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boltwrites · 2 months

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I need a Logan/Wade/Reader fic where reader is dating Wade (before movie) and meets Logan, sees how he acts with Wade, and makes a ton of “just fuck already” jokes that Wade (ofc) encourages and it pisses Logan off until he does one day (reader included lol) 😏

A/N: i'm going to have to make a part 2 for this, since this is pretty much solely humor and reader making fun of wade and logan. i will be making a part 2 for the smut, though. mark my fucking words.

some things to note: reader is stated as polyamorous and LGBT (no specific label is mentioned). also, lots of sex jokes and fourth wall breaks lmao.

You were used to Wade bringing around some strange characters. Usually, they thought he had drugs or something (which he did, most of the time. Until they all mysteriously went missing right before his birthday party. Almost like his unsavory lifestyle was suddenly sanitized for wider consumption. Hm. Weird.) Sometimes they wanted money - other times it seemed more likely that Wade was holding them for ransom and relapsing into his merc days. But that wasn't really your business.

The point to your opening statement was: you didn't really want to fuck Wade's friends. Astonishing, really - you went to high school with a group of weird kids that all turned out to be some flavor of L,G,B or T and as such, you either wanted to or did fuck most of them. But Wade's friends? They just lacked a little something-something. Al was too old and too high most of the time. Yukio and her gruff girlfriend were far too young for you. Colossus was too Russian. Vanessa was Wade's ex - which would have been hot, honestly - but you weren't the biggest fan of how the two of them handled the post-breakup, and therefore she was off limits. But Peter... maybe...?

No. No, if you fucked Peter, Wade would never let you hear the end of it.

So, you were typically relegated to Wade, and Wade alone, which was more than fine by you. That insane healing factor meant the man could go all night, and he was naturally (or, unnaturally. Mutantly?) ribbed for your pleasure. Nice.

So when he came back from his most recent world-saving (multiverse saving?) adventure, you expected him to bring back maybe some kind of bright-eyed teenage sidekick, or a wacky off-the-wall team up, like Dopinder.

Ah, right, Dopinder. God, you would have fucked him. Sadly, the man was staunchly monogamous like some kind of fucking freak.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, when you walked into Wade's unbirthday party? He had company. And the company? Hot. Old. Man.

Oh no. Your fucking weakness.

You'd really never forgive Wade for evaporating Cable before you had a chance with him.

Maybe this was his make-up present.

And said present - or, man, shouldn't objectify - could not take his damn eyes off Wade. Glaring at him, huffing a little half-chuckle when Wade insulted someone with a joke, rolling his eyes as Wade recounted some story of their conquests with exaggerated arm movements and wild, unnecessary additions.

Oh my god. Oh my god? Did Wade fuck him before you could? That bitch!

You scoffed to yourself as you threw your jacket on the coat rack - or was that Peter? Who gives a shit. You were on a mission. You sauntered straight up to Wade, no greeting or preamble, and tossed your arm around his shoulders, setting your ass down right in his lap.

"Oh, hell yeah! There's my sugar ass-" Wade grinned at you, and you just rolled your eyes and planted a big kiss on his bald forehead. Thank god, he'd stopped wearing that dumbass hair. It made him look like a social studies teacher. And not a good one - like one of the ones that just took the job so that he could coach the JV boy's soccer team, and he's not even very good at that. Anyway.

Wade wrapped an arm around you, and you adjusted yourself on his lap, hazarding a glance over at the man sitting next to him. His eyes flit from Wade to you, then to Wade again, brow scrunched a little closer together than when you'd first seen him.

"Wolvie, meet my little discord kitten. And you-" he broke the fourth wall, just to look you straight in the eyes. "This, is the big bad wolf. Er-ine. Yeah. Yeah, that works."

"Wade," you replied, trying not to think about the fact that he just looked into your eyes like you were a camera on the Office. "You never told me you were bringing home a third. I would have brought the nice strap."

The man - Wolvie? Wolverine? Whatever - choked on his beer, and shot Wade a confused, accusatory glare.

"What about the-"

Wolvie gestured in the direction of Vanessa, and Wade's eyes widened, his mouth actually fell open. And this time, it wasn't fake or sarcastic shock, but actual, genuine emotion.

"Oh, no no no - that metal skull of yours really is dense, isn't it, peanut?" He knocked on Wolvie's forehead with way more force than he would use on any normal human, and the man batted Wade's hand away like a pissy tom cat, lip curled over his teeth in a growl.

That was. Hot. Ok.

Wade continued talking anyway - as he always did.

"No, Vanessa? Lovely lady, don't get me wrong - but that ship sailed loooong ago, my temporally-challenged friend," Wade sighed, squeezing the arm that was around your shoulder. "No - that relationship was, as the kids say - 'lacking in communication and emotional openness' - oh, and she made me feel like chicken shit for not being a superhero!"

"Babe, you did that to yourself," you shook your head at him. Really - Vanessa and Wade had just grown apart. She'd looked into more gainful employment, and Wade had followed, struggling to integrate into whatever the fuck "proper" society was. What really happened was that Wade blamed himself for her death and tied way too much of his self-worth to their relationship. And Vanessa - well, she just didn't feel safe with him anymore. It wasn't her fault; it was the PTSD. But it still hurt him. It was better for the both of them to part ways. You always knew Wade still held a torch for her, but you didn't mind much in a relationship sense. You were polyamorous - your man loving multiple people didn't bother you. What did matter was the fact that for Wade's mental health - or what little of it remained - he shouldn't be trying to get with that woman again.

"Yeah! I know! I was getting to that - shh," he pressed a finger to your lips and you kissed it, which made him go "aww" before returning to his rambling. "Anyway, while I was on this beautiful journey of self-discovery, I realized so many things, buttercup."

He sighed, cupping your cheek. "The Avengers are absolute booty ass - without their mainstay former drug addict, I'm afraid they lost out on the crowd of little white girls that want to fuck older men, and we all know that demographic is vital to the longevity of a franchise. Furthermore, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard, which means I have to re-examine my vehicle-related inherent biases. Oh, and also - I'm not a hero. Can't pretend to be some kind of 'normie.' So I'd rather be a freak with the rest of the rejects."

Wade gestured to the rest of the party, and your grin widened, arms wrapping tight around his neck and pulling him in for a stupid, sloppy kiss. God, that's what you'd been trying to tell him for goddamn ages. Thank fuck, the whole multiverse just had to be threatened for him to realize it. You should have expected it - that's just kind of how men are.

Wolverine cleared his throat, and you pulled away, patting Wade on the chest. The older man looked at the both of you with trepidation, like he might be interrupting something. Your heart skipped a little - he really did like Wade, didn't he? Well -

"That's great, baby," you patted Wade's cheek. "Glad you had to experience whatever is closest to death for you to realize what's really important. That's so incredibly healthy and absolutely viable in the long-term."

Wolvie chuckled, grinning at both you and your boyfriend. Oh no - not only was he hot, he was pretty. That stupid little cat ear hair wasn't helping, especially not when he was laughing at your joke.

You took the opportunity to raise your leg just enough to brush your calf along the inside of his knee, and his eyes immediately flicked to yours, smile faltering as he calculated whether to lean into it or shy away.

"Thank you, I so appreciate you, baby-boo-" Wade nuzzles his nose against your cheek and you giggled, biting your lip to quell your laugh as you tried to watch both boys. "But if I remember correctly, before we went on this plot-hole addressing rant, you said something about the good strap?"

He waggled his hairless brows, and your gaze flicked between the two of them again - Wade, eager and grinning; Wolvie, tense and most certainly blushing.

"Yeah," you sighed dramatically, waving your hand in the direction of the refreshments table. "Unfortunately, the food at this party isn't bottom friendly. Shame."

"Fuck!" Wade cursed, head snapping forward in frustration. "I knew Peter forgot something! That insensitive metrosexual!"

You snorted, shook your head as your gaze pulled to Wolverine, you dragged your leg just a little higher.

"Oh, don't worry about it. If your friend here wants, we could recreate your favorite Lonely Island music video."

Said friend's brow knit, his jaw clenched as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, as if you'd translate your Wade-speak for him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend did it for you, with an exaggerated gasp for comedic effect.

"3-Way (The Golden Rule) (Featuring Lady Gaga & Justin Timberlake)?" He cried, leaning over so that he could smush his face closer to yours. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively.

He all but squealed, kicking his feet to the point where he almost launched you straight out of his lap.

"You hear that, Logan-boy? It won't even be gay - with a honey in the middle there's some leeway," he gestured to you dramatically, jazz-hands and all.

"It might be a little gay," you whispered in Wolvie - Logan's? - direction.

Either way, it seemed like something one of you said made the poor man short-circuit. He was just looking at the two of you like Wade was regrowing a baby head.

"It is, like, a genuine offer," you clarified for him. "We're not fucking with you - well. Wade's always fucking around."

"Oh, but I am so serious about this, babygirl. Wanna find out if that 207th bone is also adamantine, let me tell you-"

"Shut your whore mouth," Logan hissed at Wade, and you heard the man's teeth click as Wade's jaw snapped shut. What?

"Hey, did he just listen to you when you told him to shut up?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, but gave you a curt nod as answer. Your head whipped from one man to the other.

"You two definitely fucked already!"

"Oh-"

"What did he tell you?" You cut in, finger raised as Wade tried to speak. His eyes widened, and his lips closed like he had no control over them. Your jaw fell open. You turned to Logan like he was some kind of evil sex magician. Which - maybe he was. Or maybe that was a different man from the same movie that no one knows how to write because someone actually gave him an accurate accent. How would you know?

"We didn't fuck," Logan clarified. "We fought. Hard."

"It was the only way around the Hays Code censor!" Wade cut in, words spilling out like he only had a few seconds before Logan shot him another look that had his mouth shutting and his pants tightening.

You rolled your eyes. "Sweetie, the Hays Code was abolished in 1968," you patted his cheek like you were talking to a child.

"Tell that to the mouse!"

"Well," you did your best to get this trainwreck back on track. "Anyway. What do you think, hmm?"

You directed your question at Logan-Wolvie-Wolverine. It was so hard to learn somebody's actual name when Wade just threw nicknames out like candy.

But still, the man frowned, lips pursed as he considered the proposition. His lips twitches as he swirled the bottle of beer in his hand, like he could find the answers in the foam that swelled there. He shook his head, then took a sip, smacking an "ah" before the bottle hit the table with a thump.

"Eh. What the hell."

Oh. Fuck. Yes.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x logan howlett x reader #mine

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nathaslosthershit · 7 months

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The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love.

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room.

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself.

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom.

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #charles leclerc

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bubbless-s · 3 months

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⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ A brushstroke of love ᝰ.ᐟ

Request: “I don’t know if you still take Harry Potter requests but can you do slytherin boys (and pansy) walking on you doing your pre shower makeup?”

Masterlist

- ʚɞ genre: fluffly, light entertainment

- ʚɞ warnings: none

Tom Riddle

✧ Gets annoyed.

✧ “Why are you wasting your make up?”

✧ Still doesn’t get why you waste time and energy doing this.

✧ You jumpscared him once because you had done a minion full face make up.

✧ it just happened that you were walking after him and he suddenly turned.

✧ Starts hating the pre shower makeup even more.

✧ Would rather die then tell anyone that he got jumpscared by your face in yellow.

Mattheo Riddle

✧ “Love what the fuck.”

✧ Will NEVER let you do it on him.

✧ You will give him kisses? No—wait kisses?

✧ Well since you will give him compensation he will sit trough it.

✧ “I look like what you would get when you search ghetto make up on google.”

✧ Likes it more if you put lipstick on and kiss his whole face.

✧ He is like a energetic 9yo who ate tons of chocolate. So in conclusion he can’t stay still for too long.

Theodore Nott

✧ Thinks its funny since he has done it too.

✧ Buys you those shitty kid make up products so you don’t waste your expensive makeup.

✧ Secretly takes pictures of you and threatens to post it.

✧ But he never will.

✧ Let’s you do his brows because he finds it hilarious how he looks with big brows drawn with a eyeliner from a kid makeup set.

✧ Takes 0,5 pictures of you and himself after the masterpiece makeup is done.

✧ Laughs everytime the dollar store lipstick snaps in half from bad quality and his pressure from applying it.

Draco Malfoy

✧ “Is this what birthday makeup is or..?”

✧ Straight up holding back tears when you force him to try it.

✧ “This is muggle activity I—“ “So is bleaching your hair Malfoy.”

✧ You made his skin match his hair. ‘Accidentally’ with water proof 24h lasting brush.

✧ He almost cried.

✧ Didn’t go to classes that day and didn’t step out of his room.

✧ Also he ‘accidentally’ smudged the makeup in your shirt. Accident happen!

Enzo Berkshire

✧ Traumatised.

✧ “Why do you look like a smurf :(.”

✧ Doesn’t want to do it. But he is supportive. Kinda.

✧ Will get you tons of micellar water so the cleaning process is easier.

✧ If you mess up your mascara and get it all over the tube he won’t also mind cleaning it.

✧ What he will mind is if you try to do it on him.

✧ “My skincare is expensive girl..💅”

Blaise Zabini

✧ Stands in the doorway with a ‘:|’ face.

✧ “Um what are you doing this late at night cupcake?”

✧ Another type to take pictures of you.

✧ Agrees when you offer to do his next.

✧ Suddenly became a professional makeup artist??

✧ And comments and how you blend things and stuff😭

✧ “Im rocking this.”

Pansy Parkinson

✧ “I thought we were doing this together?”

✧ Immediately sits next to you and DEMANDS that you do her makeup too.

✧ In the end you both have matching makeup. You’re painted in pink she is in blue. (Stitch and his gf)

✧ “I look so cute. But you’re the cutest.”

✧ Kisses your face anyway. Who cares if you have kilos of make up on your faces?

✧ “Babe do I have makeup smudges on my arse?” “Don’t worry the only thing I see is fifty pounds of ass😋”

✧ The removing process is another type of pain.

#harry potter x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #enzo berskshire #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson #slytherin boys x reader

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koostarcandy · 1 year

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remedy

summary: "i think, just think, if you stay here, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: jeon jungkook rotting my brain fluff

wc: 875 words (tiny baby)

a/n: lmao look who's back because she fell asleep on jungkook's live (like literally my phone was on my face) also for this story's sake, this took place in the dark of morning and not the dawn :] also, also, there's a spoiler for the pale horse by agatha christie in here :P happy 10 years everybody! here's to more ♡

"how was the book, my love?"

you trip over the soft rug placed infront of the bathroom door, startled that your boyfriend's still awake at 3:33 a.m. you figured he would fall asleep after watching spiderverse reels and coming up with tons of theories about the final movie of the trilogy. jungkook lies on your side of the bed, fluffy mop of dark hair covering his tired eyes. you take your time with your skincare routine, describing the agatha christie you've been reading for the past 2 and a half hours, knowing it was gonna be a long night anyway.

"it was thallium poisoning, koo, not witchcraft. i never knew your hair could fall out in clumps because of that." you gently massage the serum into your face, looking around from the mirror to jungkook's gaze on you, slight smile playing on his pierced lips.

"did you put this before heading to bed, koo?" he moves his head absentmindedly, eyes darting from the small bottle in your hand to your face back again. you take it as a yes, meticulously placing the bottle in its designated place. you all but rush to bed, sneaking under the covers to his side of the bed.

your beloved shifts from lying to his side to on his tummy, chin placed on his special neck pillow, cheeks getting squished from his hands holding up his head. you scoot closer to him, brushing the bangs away from his face. you finally catch the stars in his eyes, nose scrunching in delight at the impromptu head massage.

"what's on your mind, baby?" you mumble into his hair, when he finds his way to your chest, arms immediately wrapping around you tightly in the softest way possible. "dunno," you feel his shoulders go up and down when shrugs, "there's always something up there now, you know?" he practically buries his face in your neck, placing a chaste kiss here and there. his fingers trace their way all the way from your hipbone to your shoulder, fidgeting with the thin silver necklace holding the delicate pendant he had given you on your birthday.

"wanna sleep and at the same, i don't wanna," he pouts, moving away from you ever so slightly to look up at you. "and why is that?" you ask curiously, smiling at him shivering at the touch of your cold fingers at the back of his neck. jungkook gazes at your eyes boring into him like warm rays of sunshine after a sudden spring shower. your moon-like eyes turns into pretty crescents when the silence gets comfortable, your bodies blending into one for warmth, despite the sultry heat outside. jungkook flings his leg over you, practically intertwined with you like vines on a lamp-post. its like his mind has come to a standstill, in a good way. the million thoughts running in his head has suddenly ceased, all because of your firm yet tender hands on him, one playing with his hair absentmindedly and the other tracing hearts on the upper part of his tattoo sleeve.

jungkook knows, despite not answering your question, you see right through his silence. he has wondered and pondered, over countless nights and self made whiskey cocktails, what exactly plagues his mind to avoid him catching up on some shut eye. he is no stranger to insomnia, often finding himself with new hobbies to while away the time till he finally gets sleepy. he boxed, karaoke-d, cooked his way through it all, that is until, he found you.

his own personal remedy, in the form of the most emotive, sometimes amorous love. nights spent with you is new everyday, no matter the place or time. you both could be on the couch, tummies full and hearts content at 9:45 p.m and jungkook would find himself asleep within seconds, something he could rarely achieve by himself. your lingering touches are something he thought he could only dream of, often waking up to you rolled over to the other side of the bed, grumbling to himself about your adventurous sleeping habits, wondering why you could never stay in one place, knowing he's subject to your teases about the same everyday. he gently pulls you to him anyway, spooning you until he finds the warmth he was searching helplessly for so long in his dream-like state.

"i can only sleep well when you're here with me," he confesses, a whisper into the dark space you both fondly call home. you catch his doe eyes on you, the night lights from outside never failing to enhance the galaxies you wake up to and sleep to everyday. jungkook clasps the back of your shirt in his hand, a subtle sign that he's succumbing to sleep's heavy hold.

"i think, just think, if you, just for a while, play with my hair or whatever, i may fall asleep, just saying."

your hand immediately resumes it's precious job, chuckling slightly at his quiet request of a head massage. his eyelashes flutter when his eyelids betray his mind, wanting one last look at you before he sees you again. before you know it, he's snoring away to dreamland in your arms, where you trust you'll meet him soon.

taglist: @soobhyun ; @september-husband ; @snoozeagustd ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentofyourlife ; @jjkeverlast ; @nlsonsprings ; @starlight-1010 ; @swga-ficrecs ; @zharoszn

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #bts jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario

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winstonsns · 3 months

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I love ur writing so, so, so, so, so much!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Dallas x Reader where he met reader through Ponyboy and Johnny. Like both Johnny and Ponyboy are really really close friends with reader and Dallas is curious and wants to met them and Dallas develops a little puppy crush!

Only write if ur comfortable/have time! Love ya and I’m excited to see you write more in the future! 🖤🖤🖤

can’t help falling in love (request)

authors note: i have a shit ton of requests but try to post once each day, please be patient if i haven’t gotten to yours yet! i’m so glad you like my writing, i hope you enjoy! this is my first oneshot so idk if it’s good or not LMAO 💗

dally x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, bob being a bitch

dally was sitting on his bed in his room, above buck’s bar when he suddenly heard a ring from the phone on his dresser. “god damn it, who the fuck could it be…” he mumbled, grumpily walking over to the phone and picking it up.

“hey, who the hell is this?” he asked, receiving a response quickly, “it’s pony. you wanna go to the drive in with me and johnny and our other friend? she’s real tuff, i’m sure you’d like her. the movie’s at 7—“

dally looked at the wall, checking the time on the clock. it was nearly 3pm, he thought for a moment before interrupting pony, “i’ll come over now, we can get some food or something before we leave for the movie.”

“see you in a bit, dallas.” he responded, dally putting down the phone and therefore ending the call. he stared at the dresser for a couple seconds before making up his mind, pulling on the drawer handle and taking a plain black shirt out, putting it over his head. he then walked to another part of his room, picking up his shoes on the floor, putting them on and grabbing his denim jacket from a hanger. he put his arms through the sleeves and walked to the door, walking downstairs, telling buck, “hey, i’m taking your car. goin’ to a friend’s house.”

he rolled his eyes before grabbing the keys from his pocket, tossing them to dally before he was on his way to pony’s house. going into the car, he wondered what you would be like, knowing you were going to the drive in with johnny and pony. as he was on the road, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, thinking about what you could look like or if he would think you’re as tuff as ponyboy thought.

by the time he was at ponyboy’s house, it was 3:30pm. he took the keys out of his car and opened the car door, closing it behind him once he got out. he walked over to the entrance of his friend’s house, opening the door since he knew it would be unlocked. “hey dally, took you long enough.” he heard someone say, recognizing it as johnny’s voice. “hey, man, how you doin’?” he asked, walking over to the kitchen where he saw johnny and ponyboy eating some chocolate cake. both of them looking at dally and nodding.

“isn’t there gonna be some broad at the drive in with you guys? what’s that about?” he asked, johnny and pony looking at each other, johnny grinning and holding his hand out to pony. he groaned and mumbled a “gotta be kiddin’ me…” and pulled a dollar out of his pocket, giving it to the dark haired boy next to him.

dally watched the whole interaction but was still confused, only after pony explained who you were, he understood the two of them had made a bet. “how have we not told you about her, man? y/n’s been our best friend for years, one of the only nice socs, we hang out like three times every week, man. have you not seen her?” pony explained, johnny answering his question and saying, “oh she’s beautiful, dallas, you’d love her.” ponyboy nodding his head, agreeing with johnny.

all three of them talked for a while in the curtis house, ranging from you, to dally almost getting put in jail again, to some fight that pony witnessed, to johnny getting beat up by a soc, then once again, back to you. time passed by quickly and before they knew it, two hours had passed, they only had an hour before they wanted to be at the drive in.

dally couldn’t keep his mind off of you, he got curious because of how highly pony and johnny spoke of you. saying you were an academic beast, the most beautiful person someone could ever meet, the funniest and best person someone would want to be around, etc. “knew each other since we were… god, what were we? oh, i was around 7 i think, she was around 10.” pony stated, bringing dally back into the conversation after he zoned out.

the rest of the hour was spent talking about you, how you, pony and johnny met and became friends. detail by detail, dally grew more and more excited to meet you, but he tried not to show it. pony and dally continued their conversation while johnny glanced at the clock, noticing it was nearly 6:30. “hey guys, it’s close to seven. think we should start headin’ over to the drive in, yeah?” he asked, the two other boys nodding, getting up from their seats and walking out the door to the drive in.

by the time they arrived, the sky was dark even though it was still early. they looked around before getting on their knees, crawling under the fence and getting their jeans a bit dirtier than they wanted. “should be in a black mustang, i think. that’s what she has, right johnny?” pony stated, wanting to have his statement confirmed by his friend first. “yeah, pretty sure. wait— isn’t it dark blue?”

the two kept bickering back and forth, looking around even though many people were there. he glanced around, remembering how pony and johnny described your features, trying to find someone who described them. the three boys were near rows of chairs, your friends still arguing about what color your car was.

dally heard footsteps walking towards his direction and a loud voice, he recognized it as someone was yelling at another person. “god, won’t you just fucking listen to me, y/n!!? you can’t be hanging out with those— those hoods, they’ll ruin you!!” a boy with curly blond hair with an alcohol bottle in his hand yelled, dally realizing he was bob, someone that johnny had described multiple times, with his rings that cut up johnny’s face.

“look, bob. we’re not even together, why do you care so much about this? they aren’t bad people, you have to understand that!!” you argued back, trying to keep your voice steady and managing not to yell at him. even though the two of you were somewhat far away, dally lightly hit johnny’s arm and pointed at you, asking, “is that your friend?” looking back at him, seeing both of the younger boys smile.

pony and johnny started to walk towards you when he stopped them, worrying, “hey, hey… seems like she’s in an argument with that one guy over there. don’t you think we should wait?” the two of them paused, staring at you, watching you and bob continue arguing, him losing his temper and screaming at you, “you’re a fucking whore, y/n! a bitch too, leaving us for some gross hoods. what, you wanna live on the streets too, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing they didn’t really live on the streets, they just knew them better. they weren’t as fortunate as you and bob, as the socs. you continued letting him yell at you when you heard footsteps behind you, like they were from multiple people. when bob paused and looked behind you and asked, “who the hell are you? get lost.” spitting near the people behind you, you cringed and moved away from the spit and bob, looking behind you to see johnny, pony and a boy who you haven’t seen before.

the dark haired boy, who was a bit taller than pony and johnny came closer to bob’s face. asking, “why the fuck are you yelling at her, huh? you have no fucking right to do that, you piece of shit.” pushing bob’s chest, causing him to back up. he looked at you, complaining, “this ain’t worth my time,” slowly walking backwards then turning around to walk towards his friends.

dally turned around, seeing you already looking at him and smiling. “you’re dally, aren’t you? i’ve heard about you before. pony and johnny talk about you sometimes…” you added, glancing over to the two boys at the end. he responded, “yeah, it’s dally. so you’re y/n, huh? the boys talk very highly of you, it’s a big thing to meet you,” pausing, hearing you giggle, then continuing, “you’re pretty good looking, you know. should get to know each other better, yeah?” smirking when he saw you blush.

after the four of you reached the seats, you sat in a row, two behind johnny and pony. the two of you continued talking although the movie had already started, not even paying attention. you had learned dally had an insanely long criminal record while you had none, his parents were both shitty and didn’t care about him, but yours were perfect. he didn’t give a shit about school, meanwhile you would most likely be the valedictorian. but he wanted to attend school again just so he could see you.

even though the two of you didn’t notice, the movie had ended as quickly as it started. both of you kept chatting away before pony and johnny looked behind the two of you and spoke, “man, nearly everyone’s gone. i think we should all go home, right? don’t want your parents to be mad, right y/n? don’t wanna get grounded again.” johnny teased, you rolling your eyes playfully and agreeing, “yeah, we should probably get going.”

when you looked away, dally gave the two boys a look and shrugged, a gesture for, “what the hell was that for?!” so they shrugged back and got up from their seats. the three boys walked you over to your car, ponyboy asked you all, “so, what’d you guys think of the movie?”

you and dally looked at each other and grinned, he replied, “wasn’t paying attention.” and you nodded, agreeing, “yeah, i wasn’t either.” he lightly bumped your shoulder in a teasing manner, causing you to giggle. by the time you got to your car, you felt your mood start to change drastically, going from happy to a sense of sadness. you wanted to continue talking to dally, but were nervous to ask.

you fidgeted with your hands and looked worried, staring at the ground before asking dally, “can i have your number?” his face turned into a shade of red, nodding quickly and speaking, “yeah, you got a pen and paper?” you wondered for a second before stating, “maybe, let me check.” so you opened your car door slightly and frantically looking around, yet finding a pen and not a piece of paper. you grabbed it and shrugged, “i only have a pen… sorry…” feeling bad that you got your hopes up.

he took the pen from your hands, asking if you could roll up your sleeves, you nodded and he gently grabbed your arm. as he wrote his number on your arm, you looked at johnny and pony, smiling at them while they gave you a thumbs up. “this doesn’t hurt, right?” dally asked, checking up on you. you shook your head, suddenly you didn’t feel pressure on your arm and he handed the pen back to you. looking on your arm, he wrote his number and ‘dally ;)’ at the bottom.

you smiled at the little winking face, looking up at him to see him already grinning at you. you mumbled, “i think i have to go now… i don’t want my parents to be mad…” dally looked at you, nodding and stating, “i’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay? we should hang out tomorrow.” while you got into your car, putting the keys in.

dally bent down to the window and smiled, you beamed, “it was nice meeting you, dally… i hope we can figure out another time to hang out. thanks for inviting me, pony and johnny.” they smiled and said “we’ll see you later!!” and waved as you drove out of the drive in, going in the direction of your house.

watching your car with a bit of sadness, dally turned his head and mumbled, “let’s get you two home…” johnny and pony teased him the whole way back to ponyboy’s house, saying it was so obvious that he thought you were cute and was trying to flirt with you. “your eyes were basically like hearts, like in the cartoons when they fall in love!!” johnny chuckled, getting a playful hit on the back from dally.

by the time they reached the curtis house, johnny and pony said goodbye to dally, “we’ll talk to you later, dallas. don’t fuck it up with y/n, we don’t have to choose in between you and her!!” waving at him when he got into the car, driving to buck’s. as he walked into the bar, a girl walked up to him and said, “hey, you wanna go somewhere? there’s a bathroom over there,” she pointed, “maybe we could… bang?” she winked, dally made a disgusted face and said, “i have a girlfriend, dipshit.” and walked away, knowing he didn’t really have anyone romantically, but he wanted you.

when he was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, he was thinking about you. the way you talked, trying to keep your sweet voice in his head, the way you looked at him with interest while he talked. you had made him feel important for those two hours the both of you talked. he yearned for you, for your attention and love, but he thought he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not if it was to save his life.

when you got home and walked up to your bedroom after you took your shoes off, you smiled at the writing on your arm. walking to your vanity, you pulled out a sticky note and pencil, writing dally’s phone number with a ‘dally’ and a heart next to it, underneath the numbers themself.

you changed into your matching set of pajamas and went into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste, wetting the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it. you felt a lot different now than how you did with dallas, not even 30 minutes ago. you spit out the toothpaste once two minutes had passed, you wiped your mouth, turned the lights off and walked to your bed. you turned on the lamp that was on your nightstand, turning off your big light in the center of your room.

you and dally were both laying on your own beds, thinking about each other, both wondering “are they thinking about me too? there’s no way, it didn’t even seem like they liked me. maybe they were being nice.”

only johnny and pony knew, johnny had slept over at pony’s house while you called them, ranting to them about dally and how sweet he seemed, and when you hung up, they immediately got a call from the boy you were just talking about. he was talking about you, and for once seemed like he wanted something more than a short term relationship. he tried to make it seem like he didn’t care that much, but the two boys could tell.

authors note: yayyy my first oneshot!! i hope you liked it, sorry it was short!! ;3

#the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #the outsiders #the outsiders dally #dallas x reader #dallas winston #dally x reader #winstonsns #dally winston x reader #dallas winston oneshot #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fluff

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papaya-twinks · 13 days

Text

red hot chilli 🌶️ - l.n - part 4

Warnings: swearing, obsessions, fake account

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

other parts

Over the weeks you and Lando, or who you thought was ‘Luka’, you two had grown close and he knew a lot about you. But to just be at golf and suddenly receive a message from who you thought was a genuine friend of yours, asking not to talk anymore?

It hurt, yes. But you couldn’t be one to just…force him to come back to you. But underneath all the hurt that had built up in the few seconds as you re-read the message again, you couldn’t even deny the air of…suspicion. Carlos’ voice had filtered out into the air, your focus on just the message.

Why? Why had Luka just suddenly not wanted to talk to you anymore? That was weird. You had every right to be slightly suspicious of it, as why would he do that? It was weird. Odd. And confusing. “You good?” you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning round to see Lando.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, turning your phone off and closing the message. All Lando wanted to do right there was just pull you into a hug and tell you he was Luka. “You look…dazed,” he commented on the slightly aloof look in your eyes, your pupils slightly dilated.

“Just feeling a bit lightheaded,” you lied through your teeth as you nodded slowly, a frown on Lando’s face as you turned round fully to face him. Lando’s hand dipped off of your shoulder as you did so, falling back to his side.

“Want a drink? Like…I have some drinks in my car,” he gestured to the McLaren in the car park a good walk away, “like, um, I have Coke? You like coke, I remember,” he nodded. He…remembered? How? You’d never told him?

“Uh, yeah, okay,” you said, nodding as he left, a frown on your face. You were on high alert now, confused and a little dazed - tons of thoughts flooding your mind as you picked up your phone again. You couldn’t believe you’d never even clicked Luka’s profile before, as you did it right then. No photos. No posts. Just a profile picture. No bio. Nothing.

“Fuck…no, no, no,” Lando cursed, his eyes staring down at the phone in his hand. He knew making this stupid, dumb fake account was a bad idea. He never should’ve done it.

Y/N: Luka, who are you?

Luka: your friend! obviously :)

Y/N: are you telling the truth?

Luka: I always do, don’t I? You know I’d never lie.

There was a pause in the messages, as Lando watched the grey bubbles appear to show someone was typing, before they disappeared, only to reappear back onto the screen as Lando stood nervously by the car, waiting for your response with baited breath.

Y/N: you’re a shit liar, Lando.

The game was up. You knew. You’d busted it. He was hoping with every ounce of his body that you’d just give him that elusive little smile and laugh it off as he walked back to the spot he’d left you…nothing. Your gone.

Gone forever? Hopefully not, he thought, as the bottle slipped from his hand, his hands falling limp to his sides. Why couldn’t he just be normal? What was wrong with him?was it him, or was it you? It was your fault for being so pretty.

“You good?” Carlos asked, a hand on Lando’s shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts, “Y/N”s gone, she had revision,”. Revision. Yeah right. You just wanted to get away from Lando. Were you…scared of him? He needed to talk to you.

“Man, I need to talk to her,” Lando said, his gaze on the floor as he suddenly picked up a water bottle, your water bottle, “she left this,”. Carlos raised a brow, reaching a hand to take the bottle from Lando, only for Lando to wrench it back to his chest.

“Uh, I’ll give it to her,” Lando said, making Carlos raise a brow. “I can do it, man,” Carlos blinked, looking at his friend in both bemusement and confusion, his eyes wide. “What’s up with you and Y/N, man? You’re both acting weird,”.

Lando would rather do any thing than admit to Carlos what he had done. “Nothing, man, let’s just go back to your place,”. Carlos shook his head but relented anyways, letting Lando come with him to Carlos’ place. “Where is she?” Lando said almost immediately as soon as he stepped into the house.

“Taking a shower by the sound of it,” Carlos said simply, as Lando nodded, mumbling something about leaving the bottle on your bed. He could hear the water running in your en-suite as he laid the nitro on your bed, looking at the pile of clothes on your bed.

Your room was so…you. It suited you so well, with the perfect paint on the walls and the furniture, your outfit from gold laid out on the bed, well, more thrown. His hand almost seemed drawn to your panties, but he shook his head, he wasn’t like that.

Well, was he? After the account incident, he may as well be. “No!” Lando whispered to himself, as he heard the water stop running and he instead grabbed the ring from your cabinet, rushing downstairs. It was like he wanted you to hate him.

Oh fuck.

@cheriiepies

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #f1 #lando x reader #lando norris smut

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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months

Note

Hello, sorry from before. I am the illusionist person.

I guess Alastor, Velvett, and Emily (but only if you do her).

I apologize about before.

No problem! I just do not like the idea of taking away credit from others’ choices and picking out the characters for others’ subjects. It just doesn’t feel right. I am sorry for being so… well, I guess, annoying and picky! To be honest, not a lot can be done here so sorry, it’s going to be kinda short! Also, this is my first time handling Emily!

Alastor

Alastor almost thought you were an ordinary sinner. A lady not unbelievably special but special in your own ways. But he is mistaken when he begins seeing your illusions and asks you about it. He is so surprised, jaw-dropped, amazed… that’s incredible!

Alastor is actually really supportive towards your illusion power and eggs you on to use it more than you normally do. Use it to get what you want, use it to mislead, use it to defend yourself. He will be right there to cheer you on

Alastor finds it fascinating when you begin to use your illusions on him. Changing his clothing to 1800s, making his ears disappear, all for shits and giggles but it’s just eye tricks. Everything is still there and hasn’t done anything to you, it’s just so realistic, that it’s incredible. He is impressed and has to remind himself that everything you suddenly ‘make’ is not real at all

It can be considered minor but to your boyfriend, your illusionary power. The most powerful, hyper realistic delusions that even shatter like glass when being hit. Enables Alastor’s pride and he is happily brags about how powerful you can be. He mentioned you a ton during his broadcasts and now, he mentions you as a whole even more. He’s just so proud of you

“My dear. Your mind is quite wild and livid. I can’t help but wonder what else you can do. May I ask, how does this power work? It’s so unique and I’d love to get to know it even more, may we speak over a nice date on my room’s balcony over some tea and cookies?”

Velvette

Velvette actually would much more prefer if her harmless little sinner girlfriend was just a normal demon. Didn’t have any powers that made her override the Overlord of the pair… but boy, she is so wrong and she ends up being jumpscared by your illusion-inducing power, directly falling for it and afterwards, she can’t help but directly fall for you even more

Whilst it’s true that Velvette enjoys being the unique one of this couple, she finds herself not at all salty or jealous of your power. In-fact, she wants to see it more in action and she even asks if she can post videos or pictures of your abilities to show you off, as a way to also demonstrate to the web that you belong to her, and this power belongs to her as well

Velvette is uncontrollably disturbed and annoyed by just how hyper realistic and convincing your mind images are. They are fully seeable to everybody, it’s not just you two but she feels like it’s tricking her individually. Whilst she gets irritated with them sometimes, she has grown to support you as a whole. She does like, however, when you use your mind and dress her in 1800s era clothing. Yeah, the dresses are ugly and old but the effort behind them is adorable so she allows it

As stated before, Velvette takes pictures, videos and stills of your illusionary magic and posts them online. She doesn’t just use this as claiming you as hers, she also uses it to brag about you. You went from just beautiful to beautiful and powerful, and that’s all hers. She has your heart and she wants everybody to know you can render them useless with your illusions. She brags to even the Vees

“Yo. Bae, can you please do me a fav with your luse-power? I want to make a really good fashion runway picture for my social media accounts and this one is shit. Could you please make some accessorises for me… pleeeaase~? I promise I’ll buy ya a present~!”

Emily

Emily is a Seraphim. A powerful, higher-up ranked Angel species of the Heaven Hierarchy, so it’s quite surprising when she is as surprised to seeing the precious ordinary Angel lovely woman she calls hers form a illusion creation of her friend, Charlie Morningstar, trying to cheer her up after a bad day. She is so amazed and so proud, eyes sparkling with awe

Emily is the most supportive and encouraging being ever and she wants to rise you up, even more up above Heaven’s majestic cool clouds. She wants you to feel invincible and she wants to you feel proud of yourself so she’ll, much like a child, ask you to use more of your illusions, explore your power and get more confident with it and everytime she watches it, her mind basically explodes

Emily happily and excitedly spins out when you use your illusionary power on her to change her looks; gorgeous hair, gorgeous dress and even her wings. She feels so different yet so blessed at the same time, even if the new look is just a magical sheet covering her body. She also finds it interesting and funny that you dressed her in human 1800s era style, she wants you two to match so she basically begs you to use your magic on you too

Emily legit goes out of her way and with help from Sera, finds and brings back needed magical training items and spell books to try help you hone your already hyper-convincing Mirakinesis and your skills with that power, so you can expand your percentage and even maybe make it even more powerful, with her right besides you as your biggest cheerleader

“Sunflower! Can you make yourself invisible yet? Did the books and items help you at all? I hope they did! I also hope that you know that I am so proud of you and I love you so much! Please never keep something like this from me ever again! You’re incredible, with and without it”

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randomfoggytiger · 4 months

Note

do you happen to have any fic recs where Scully is the one to initiate msr’s first kiss? I see a lot of the opposite but scully should get to do it

Oh, yes, a ton.

Here are a few I haven't reread in a while. *ahem*

Loose chronological order below~

Little_Pumpkin_Bagel's Vive Ut Vivas

I swallow hard. Assuming by the way she’s looking at me, I’m mostly sure that whatever she’s up to will throw caution out of limits for the sake of both of us. – “And what would that be, Scully?”

She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she holds my collar and pulls me down....

Post One Breath Mulder can't quite conceal his true feelings, which leaves Scully an opening.

trustmescully's Intoxicating Darkness

"I love you too, Scully," he smiles and his eyes shine with his mouth.

S2 Mulder, depressed and suicidal, is stopped from further considerations when Scully chases after him in the freezing rain.

@danadeservesadrink/Samwritess's

Collapse (Tumblr)

But he needed her to know like she needed him to know, and there was no pretending any more.

“I know” she whispered, so quiet it was almost in her head. He nodded silently and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing, hands falling intertwined again between them.

Post Pusher Scully supports Mulder until his defeat breaks her walls.

Justin Glasser's (xphilefic) Lonely Nightmare

She brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "When are you going to start listening to me?"

Mulder felt his mouth twitch into a smile. "Scully," he said. His voice sounded like it was rubbed over sandpaper. Screaming, he thought. That's from when I was screaming.

"What, Mulder?" She was rubbing his shoulders now, trying to work the blood back into them. He was alive, so she was playing Doctor Scully, all business, rubbing their relationship back to normal as quickly as possible. Mulder wasn't sure he wanted it back to normal so quickly. Mulder wasn't sure he could handle normal right away.

"If you kiss me again, I promise not to shout."

Post Never Again Mulder and Scully slowly bridge the distance between them during an intense case of missing teens and bonfires.

@mollybecameanengineer/Sareki's My Beloved (Tumblr)

He started to rise, to apologize and leave the room, but she stopped him. “What things?” she whispered.

Her face was open, her eyes bright. She knew what he was going to say, and it didn’t look like she was afraid of it.

Post Kaddish Mulder can't sleep, slipping into Scully's motel room for a late-night conversation.

@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys's

Max 2.0

Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”

Post Max Mulder drives Scully out of the city where they stargaze while she tries to reassure and motivate him to keep fighting.

The Warmest Thing I Own

He saw her suddenly blink, head shake, both signs she was just waking up, “what? Mulder?”

Knowing she didn’t recall anything because there was no embarrassment turning her red, no heat in her cheeks, eyes innocently confused, “nothing...."

Cancer arc Mulder and Scully skip work, spending the day together as he prepares the best gourmet steak and mushrooms he can for her. (The sequels Fancy Paper Napkins, End of the Road, and Post Moments are excellent reads, too.)

Miles to Go

"Mulder ..."

"Yeah?"

"Smile."

The camera flashed in his face, "I think this one should be labeled 'Before'."

Mulder gulped down the last of his hot dog, "before what?"

"Before I kissed you."

Post FTF Mulder and Scully take the remains of their burnt office home, falling asleep and waking to a storm outside. Scully bucks the expected in a few unexpected ways.

206 Bones

Chocking up her growing feeling of dread to exhaustion, anger and lack of any type of proper vitamin or mineral, she helped her partner search, track and eventually corner Parsons in an abandoned building fifteen minutes away, half demolished and dangerous to any and all who set foot inside.

Only seconds before getting the final word to take the building, Scully’s fear got the better of her and she turned Mulder to face her, pulling him down to her....

Scully gives Mulder a good luck kiss before they attempt to flush their suspect from a rotten building... and ends up the one worse for wear.

Anne Haynes's (xf-redux.com)

Sonnet

The kiss was sweet. Simple. Breathtaking.

Redux II Mulder is afraid Scully is dying, at last, only for his world to be turned right-side up in a multitude of ways.

Package Deal (txt)

But she ran her thumb beneath his chin, tipping his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes spoke a thousand sweet promises and then there was no more hesitation, no lingering gaze, no more silent questions passed back and forth between them.

Post FTF Scully is overjoyed: she and Mulder are still partnered, their story was believed, and the files are getting expanded. So overjoyed, in fact, she moves their relationship to the next level.

nabokoves's Unwritten Hymns

She mumbled his name into his shoulder, foggy with confusion. She wanted to know if he was okay. He pulled back to look at her, struggling to find something to say. He brimmed with words so corny they would make even the poets puke.

Post Redux II Mulder may hate God-- chalking up Scully's remission to science instead of his angry prayers-- but but he in no way hates God's believer, Scully.

@nowwhateinstein's (Ao3) Fic: Seeking Warmth/Seeking Warmth

I look at him. He’s regarding me with a gaze that is both familiar and thrilling. Tenderness and desire are present in his eyes. It’s the same look, I realize, he had moments before he went to kiss me in the hallway outside his apartment - a moment that seems like a lifetime ago. Then, I found myself hesitating, afraid to reciprocate his acknowledgement of a truth we’d both known. Now, however, in light of everything that’s happened in the past week, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to lean over and kiss him.

Post FTF Scully picks up where she and Mulder left off, despite her slowly recovering body and patched-up snowsuit.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's ice crystals (Ao3)

He pulls her hand up and kisses the back of it in relief. Her forehead furrows and she pulls her hand out of his. Something inside him thunks.

But the next thing he knows, she is leaning across the space between them and cupping her face in his.

Post Tithonus Mulder and Scully flesh out their frustrations and feelings as they (almost) freeze to death.

@purrykat/mylifeinshadow's

How about M&S in Boston

She joins you next to the desk, a murmured noise of acknowledgment at the ‘CANCELLED’ notice that appears next to your flight number. You brace yourself for thinly veiled frustration, but when you risk a glance, there’s a funny little twinkle in her eye instead. You’re instantly taken back to the week prior—

Post IVF Mulder mulls over the brief kiss Scully gave him after the procedure failed.

Sending you number 20 for the kiss prompts.

I think it’s safe to say that it’s not Skinner that I’m interested in.”

And there it is. You’ve been steadily climbing toward this moment for the better part of the month, neither willing to take that final leap. It’s as if the absence of height difference gives her a burst of confidence, even as it turns you into a fumbling idiot.

Mulder, very late for a meeting with Skinner, is intercepted on the stairway by Scully.

effywho's Astra Inclinant

"I say...I say we stop talking." Scully replies.

It's his turn to look down, crumbling. "Sure, I understand."

He feels her breath on his hair as she leans closer. "I'm not sure you do."

Post IVF Mulder is shocked by not only their success but also Scully's follow up after his declaration.

EvanBlack's WHITEOUT

'You have a beautiful face Mulder.'

...There was an awkward silence, then he shifted and propped his cheek on his hand.

'That's the Evening Blush talking Scully.' He smiled with his lips, but she could see his eyes were serious - and nervous.

His nerves gave her sudden courage.

A plane crashes Mulder and Scully in the snowy mountains; and their petty squabbles become small in comparison to starvation, necessary cannibalism, and the increasing odds of death.

Xequinn's (Ao3) Playing Hookie

“Yeah let's do this” “On a count of three” she says” “One,” he responds On “Two” they adjust suddenly sweaty hands “Three!” Scully leaps off, pulling Mulder behind her

Scully has fun dragging Mulder around on her slightly manic beachside adventures.

The Trouble with Expectations - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

“Scully of course I showed. Why did you think I hadn’t?” She didn’t answer. Just let more tears fall. He grabbed for her hand again, and she let him. “Scully I’ll always come get you”

She didn’t answer. Just lunged forward and grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as she could.

Scully, assuming Mulder forgot to pick her up from the airport, is heartbroken... until Mulder wanders over from the bathroom.

@this-is-surely-tru/yours_truly's If the Fates Allow

“Tactile evidence only increases the anticipation, Mulder. It doesn’t diminish it.”

The slightly concussed look on her partner’s face was undeniably adorable, and he shook his head slightly as if to clear it while they both relaxed again into the carriage seat. “Far be it from me to argue with that, Scully.”

Mulder, stuck in New York for Christmas, surprises his partner with a rented carriage ride; and she, in turn, surprises him as well.

@alabama-metal-man's Unnamed

She pulls back, runs her hand along his cheek, and turns away to take a long drag of her coffee. She closes her eyes, sighing contentedly.

“What was that for?” She can hear the hint of teasing, the lingering smile.

Scully is having a rotten morning until Mulder remembers her coffee order.

@admiralty-xfd/admiralty's Up in your arms - Chapter 1

He stared at her with a look she couldn’t figure out, but it wasn’t a look that said don’t. It was the furthest thing from that look she could discern. So she leaned into him, all the way in, and she felt him inhale ever so slightly as she took the biggest risk of her life.

Post Closure Mulder contemplates his new life. Scully answers at least one question for him.

And just for fun, I grabbed a few of my baronessblixen rereads:

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3)

Temporary Insanity (Ao3)

How many times has she cheated death this year? Two times? Three? She’s come so close that she’s stopped counting. Every time, she just picked herself up, bought a new blouse if it was torn or bloody, threw away shoes that weren’t as lucky as she was, and calmed herself down when a nightmare tried to take her under. She’s done. She feels it in her fingertips. She feels it like a current running through her body. She needs something. Something to make her feel alive.

Paper Clip Scully is spurned by her anger into more-than-professional overtures.

The Day After (Ao3)

“Kiss and make up?” Mulder says with a grin, biting his bottom lip. He at least has to try. Scully stares at him for a moment, the way she sometimes does before she tells him how crazy he is. He knows that look. But this time it’s different.

Wetwired Mulder and Scully's discussion leads to decisive action on her part.

Never Cold With You By My Side

Feeling bold, she lets her hand wander behind his neck to play with the hair there. If he doesn’t want this – her – he can stop her before this even starts. But he doesn’t. So she pulls him to her, pressing her lips to his.

One Son Mulder and Scully spend the night locked up in Fort Marlene while she is hurt, jealous, and angry.

Dreams Are Made of This

Scully gets on her tiptoes and kisses Mulder. On the lips, just like that. Just like she’s been thinking about. It’s a quick kiss, but thorough. Like you’d kiss your husband. The person you love. All those thoughts fly through her head as she steps out the door. She stops there, realizing what she just did.

Scully, in the midst of a hopeful IVF daydream, accidentally kisses Mulder.

Five Minutes - Chapter 2 (Tumblr)

He returns with them, one in each hand, and when Scully reaches out to take hers, he shakes his head. Seeing him like this, her knight in crinkled Armani, his hands full, she can’t wait another second. She gets on tiptoes, careful not to topple over, and presses her lips to his. He tastes like coffee and the chocolate chip cookie they shared on the plane. They’ve waited long enough for this.

“We have?” Mulder, his eyes glazed over, grinning stupidly, sounds amused.

Will never not include this post IVF success story.

Candlelight Moments With You

You look like you're gonna faint. Eat something." She holds a chip up to his mouth and he accepts it, his lips closing over her finger. He can't tell what flavor the chips are, but he knows he wants more.

"More?" he asks in a whisper. She smiles at him and nods. But he doesn't get another chip. Instead, he gets a kiss.

Mulder tries to give Scully a good enough Christmas while both are practically stranded in a motel.

#asks #anon #Scully initiates the first move #Collector's Edition #Scully Makin' Moves #Part I #anyone interested in a part ii?#txf #fic

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vanishedinvain · 3 months

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 !!

hi all i finally got around to trying to make a taglist! for anyone unfamiliar, perfect all-american bitch is a benedict bridgerton x reader fic i've been working on:

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

—the second son is stumbling in shoes two sizes too large, and everyone in the ton can see it. nothing could make things worse right now, not even the american nouveau riche girl dragging him across the cobblestones.

or: an AU where anthony and simon's duel ends in bloodshed, benedict becomes the viscount, and an american girl might just help him see in color again.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐞

—benedict's last moment of contentment before the storm that marooned his dreams.

𝐜𝐡. 𝐢. 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐦

—the gaudy, new money american girls make a splash while benedict tries desperately to keep his head above water.

𝐜𝐡. 𝐢𝐢. 𝐢 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 -- coming soon!

—benedict might be getting dragged across the cobblestones right now, but at least his captor is an angel.

if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic, interact with this post somehow (reblog, like, comment). you may also send me a message if you're more comfortable with that! you can always ask to be removed at any time. do not interact if you don't wanna be added OR if you are under 18, no minors allowed

here's a quick sneak peek under the cut of chapter ii. i scream inside to deal with it:

Benedict began downing his drink as he walked away in large strides. He weaved through half-dressed partiers, painters with armfuls of supplies, and women dragging silk chiffon through the air. The whiskey filled his body with warmth, and clouded his mind pleasantly.

He thought for a second that he was going to get the last word. And then he heard the clacking of boots behind him, and almost smiled at his wrongness. It would be amusing if he were not trying to distance himself for her own good.

She had lost him briefly in the smoke clouds before spotting him around the corner. “Hey!”

“You should find your friends.”

“Slow down!” Whether she was referring to his pace of walking or drinking, she did not even know herself.

“It is honestly remarkable that nobody has burst in here looking for any of you yet.”

“Benedict, I’m sorry!”

They had come up to the front door now when he stopped and whirled around on her, bewildered. “Whatever for, Dovie?” He was the one who dumped all his baggage on her.

“I should not have asked about…that.”

“You have no reason to be sorry. I was the one who kept going on and on.”

“I would have stopped if I knew it was going to cause this much distress! I would have never even touched the subject. I wanted us to have a good night—”

He suddenly grabbed her face, firm but not forceful, stopping her rambling in its tracks. He was being too familiar with someone who was a stranger hours ago, but he needed to calm her mind and he was too far gone to realize just how intimate this was. “Hey. I’m alright,” he implored.

if this piqued your interest, interact with this post or send me a message/ask to be added to the taglist!

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fic #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix

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enchantedflameandflower · 2 months

Text

Gavin Magary x reader!

co-written with the bestie CheshireCatSmile

Warnings: none for this chapter but there will be smut, and tons of it!

Summary: When you started working at the lumber mill, you couldn't help but instantly fall in lust with the strong, quiet younger brother. But you're determined to keep it professional, until one work trip suddenly changes it all.

Notes: I'm actually terrified to post this so if you can drop a like or have a kind word, it would mean the entire world! Thank you to @jdms-kus-babygirl for encouraging me to post! @shirley-girly @billybutcherxyou @burntsaltsblog

notes: we have more than 22k words of this already written but it's an editing mess so I will be posting as I can get each part edited, let me know if you want tagged! Always lusting for Karl...

Karl Urban Masterlist

part 1

The early morning sun is just beginning to shine into the little dusty windows of the office of Magary Lumber Mill, when you hear Gavin’s big boots thudding up the wooden stairs outside. When he opens the door to the little office, he heads straight to your desk without thinking.

"Good morning,” he smiles at you. His hazel eyes seem to linger for a moment, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “I um,” his gaze sweeps over you again, warming you from the inside, “I like that top...it brings out your eyes…”

You blink up at him for a moment, taken aback by his compliment, but he changes the subject before you can think of how to answer. “How're things looking this morning? My brother in yet?"

Gavin picks up a sheaf of papers and mail you had set aside for him, sorting through them casually. He has on his usual button-up shirt, but it’s already warm and he has the sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscled forearms, tanned from his work outside. A couple of the top buttons are undone, and you can see a glimpse of his broad chest underneath.

“Um yes,” you answer, trying not to sound flustered. “He called this morning and said something’s come up. He wants you to get ahold of him as soon as you got in.”

Gavin replies with a non-committal hum as he continues to sort through the forms and contracts he has and you watch him for a moment, gathering your courage. “Do you really like this shirt or are you just trying to get me to finish your paperwork for you again?” you tease playfully.

Gavin looks up at you grinning again. "No, I really do like it darlin'. When do I ever try to get you to do my extra paperwork?” He winks at you and his grin widens, showing his dimple.

His smile and his compliment make your heart skip a beat but you’re at work so you clear your throat putting it out of you mind, even though you can’t deny how good he looks when he does smile. He hasn’t smiled very much since you started working here. “Well I would list all the times you have but you should probably go call Jack.”

"Okay, I'm on it. Are the kids okay? Or did he say?" Gavin shuffles through a few more papers and looks up at you with concern in his eyes. He pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He always shows how much he cares for his niece and adopted nephew, you can’t help but wonder why he’s still so alone himself but you push the thought away. “He didn’t say, but he didn’t sound too concerned, so I’m sure the kids are okay. Something about Grace needing to stay home until she has the baby, I think.”

"Oh yeah...he mentioned she might be lookin’ at bedrest. Somethin’ about one of the labs and another ultrasound I think." He sits on the edge of his desk and connects with his brother and you try not to eavesdrop but it sounds like they have to delay a project if they don't look at that old logging road in the forest out toward the north.

You bite your lip as you give up on being discreet and listen to his side of the conversation. If that trip gets pushed back, it’s going to push everything else back as well and the schedule will be a mess. There’ll be no way to keep all the upcoming jobs for summer. He thumbs off the phone with a heavy sigh.

“Jack can’t go out to Morrow County with you?” you ask, turning in your chair.

He looks up, his dark hazel eyes studying you as though he’s debating something. "No. I...I was wondering...nah, it's too much to ask," he says but you can see the wheels turning in his head.

You sit up a little straighter, realizing what he’s about to say. You won’t miss this chance. “I can go with you.” He looks surprised, but it’s the perfect solution. It’s too much for him to go alone and you’d love to get away, out into nature again.

“Are you sure?” He lifts a brow. “It’ll be almost a week. You don’t have anyone…?”

You grin at him. “No, it’s just me. I’m all alone. No pregnant wife at home.”

He chuckles a little, but chews his lip before he smiles at you again. "Well if you're sure it wouldn't be too much of an imposition I would really appreciate your help. We just can't afford to put this off. Do you have a backpack you can throw a few things into at home? I already have my gear with me but I can run you home to pack?"

“Yes, absolutely. I used to love going hiking out in the middle of nowhere but I haven’t had time since I’ve been on my own. Just work, you know.” You clear you throat again, a little embarrassed about having shared that with him. Your jobs before had been awful but this one was amazing and paid well and you didn’t want him to think otherwise. “Are we camping, or…?”

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind. Then, quite a ways in there's an old loggers' cabin I want to check out. See what kind of repairs it might need so it can hold a few of the men on their shifts without having to go back and forth every day." He walks over to your desk and looks down at you a moment. "Y'know I probably shouldn't say this but...I’m glad your free without any ties at home…but I can't believe some guy hasn't snapped you up ages ago. Their loss." He clears his throat. "Anyway, um...we should probably head out."

Your stomach flutters wildly at his implication…there can’t be any way…does he like you?

“Yeah. Yes,” I swallow. “I love camping. It’s been too long. And I’d love to see that cabin.”

Suddenly you’re more than a little excited. You were down about the upcoming week, expecting it to be dull and awful, all alone in the office, but now… He is so handsome…in his well-fitting jeans (he literally has the best ass you’d ever laid eyes on) and his hard hat, when he gets all serious and hard working. You wonder if this might be your chance to really get to know him better. Yes, he could be a little arrogant at times, and impatient, but you couldn’t help but see the times he thought of his brother or family, or his men first, above all. You know there was some incident and there are people in town that hate him. He pretends not to care but you know it hurts him sometimes.

“Let’s go,” you agree. He opens the door for you and locks it behind you.

part 2

#gavin magary #karl urban #gavin magary x you #gavin magary x reader #smut is coming #karl urban brainrot go brrr #karl urban fanfiction #karl urban fanfic #karl urban is the man of my fucking dreams #pete's dragon

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genz420 · 3 months

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Beauty of Scars & Flowers - Chapter 7: Gift and Embraces.

Master List

Previous Part - Next Part

The morning air was crisp, and the chill nipped at the exposed skin of Lyanna’s neck and chest. When she heard the Southern ladies complain about the cold, she should have understood that her definition of cold and theirs were two completely different things.

Lyanna liked the cold. She preferred it much more than the heat of the sun. She enjoyed the feeling of the wind kissing her skin and the warmth that spread from her chest. Yet as she stood in the courtyard, watching all the ladies being fussed over, she regarded every listening to the unknown ladies.

Her attendance at the outing was not her idea but her uncle's. It seemed that, with each passing day, Larys was more eager to give her away to any man who gave her the slightest attention. She was unsure who was hosting the event but knew of the people that would be in attendance.

Lyanna was determined to find out if Ser Alan was serious in their courting dance or if she was just another pretty thing for him to play with. She had thought that Ser Alan would have been a good match for her when she had first met him, but with each passing day and the presence of a certain prince, her confidence that he was serious about his attenuation shrunk.

She watched from beside the horse that was assigned for the day as the ladies of the court gathered together, laughing and whispering with one another. The fact only reminded Lyanna that she was an outsider among the people of the Crownlands.

Perhaps she should start to assimilate herself more with the customs here. She is sure Helaena would happily have her company during the masses that the Sept holds on the holy day. Or she could change her yellow and blue wardrobe to green. It seemed like she was going to be there for the long run.

Lyanna continued to run her bare hand over the horse's mane as she watched longingly at the ladies. Not paying attention to the words that her uncle was saying.

She had not paid attention to the words since he insisted she spend her day outside the Keep, choosing to act childless and pretend that her uncle did not exist. Larys would have been offended, but Lyanna always acted childishly when forced to do something she did not want to do.

Aemond watched from his post within the threshold of the courtyard as Lyanna petted the horse in front of her. The second he took the step out of the keep, he could not turn back once he was spotted.

The prince took a deep breath before straightening his back and making his way toward the two Strongs within the courtyard. The sword at his hip felt like it suddenly weighed a ton, and the gloves in his hand became as hot as Vhagar's wither skin.

Larys noticed him first. The cripple bowed his head to the prince and stepped away from his niece, allowing the two young adults a moment to themselves. Aemond should have known that Larys had heard of the blossoming friendship between him and Lyanna; it always seemed that Larys knew the things happening around the keep before anyone else.

“My Lady Strong,” Aemond broke the silence between them, his hands gripping the gloves in his hand to the point his knuckles turned as white as them.

The prince's voice was enough for Lyanna to tear her gaze away from the ladies. As Lyanna turned to face the prince, she quickly curtsied to him before offering a kind smile. Before Lyanna could return the greeting, Aemond held out the pair of gloves in his hand.

They were cloth, Lyanna noted, as white as fresh winter snow with a few different colour flowers embroidered along the cuff. They were beautiful, yet she made no move to accept them, just looking at them as if they were made of fire.

Aemond waited for Lyanna to move to accept them, making a slight shift of his weight. He had spent the last few days reading about the culture of the first men, and he knew the significant meaning of a gift of gloves, but maybe this was too soon. Perhaps he should have started with letters and not moved straight to a piece of clothing.

Larys stood to the side, leaning on his cane as he watched the duo with narrow eyes.

“These are for you, My Lady Strong,” Aemond said again. His voice made Lyanna look away from the gloves and toward his face.

He could see the slightest tint of pink on Lyanna's cheeks. So faint that if he did not have her face committed to memory, he could not notice a difference. Aemond watched as Lyanna swallowed and smacked her lips together before she pulled her eyebrows together.

“You did not have to, my prince,” Lyanna finally spoke up, taking a deep breath after she finished speaking.

Lyanna took a step away from the horse she had been petting and toward the prince. So close that Aemond could smell the floral perfume that she was wearing. It was so intoxicating that Aemond could not help himself from stepping toward her, closing the gap between them even more.

“I insist,” He told her, his voice slightly softer and quieter than before.

Lyanna looked back down to the gloves, one hand gently moving toward grasp one of them. Aemond could only watch as her fingers moved along the embroidery, waiting to see the reaction she would have.

But before Lyanna could speak up, Larys joined the two of them. The clubfoot looked between his niece and the prince and the gloves that he was holding. Larys might have spent most of his life in the crownlands, but he remembered the customs and traditions of his people.

“Say thank you, Lyanna,” Larys told her, and for the first time, it seemed like his niece did not fight his words.

“Thank you,” she said as she took the gloves and looked back up at Aemond. She held them against her stomach, tracing her fingers over the embroidery while offering him a smile.

“Will you be joining us today, Ser Larys?” Aemond turned his attention away from Lyanna, not fighting the smile on his face.

“I am afraid not. My foot prevents me from riding. I trust you will after my beloved niece?” Larys asked Aemond as he taped his cane against the cobblestone.

Lyanna could not help but snicker at her uncle's words as she looked down at her shoes and tried to bite away the smile on her face. Beloved niece was the most humorous statement that her uncle had said so far.

“Of course,” Aemond assured Larys, who quickly gave the two of them a curt nod before leaving them.

Lyanna watched as her uncle left, feeling like she could breathe again as he left her presence. She felt as if she could act like her true self without the nagging feeling that every move she made was the wrong one in her uncle's eyes. Lyanna looked back to Aemond, gently playing with her new gloves.

“I did not know you would be joining us,” She told him as she returned to the horse.

Aemond rested his hand on the pommel of his sword as he mirrored her movements. Standing not even an arm's length away from her, he patted the horse's rump.

Helaena had been the one to inform him that Lyanna would be spending the day away from the keep with the rest of the young courtiers. Revealing to him, she planned to find out Alan's true intentions. It just so happens that his training season had been cancelled, and he had the day free to do whatever he pleased.

“I thought it would be fun to spend the day with my fellow young courtiers,” He answered as he looked around the courtyard.

Lyanna did not stop the laugh that escaped her.

She knew that Aemond held an interest in the lives of the courtiers. Only enjoying hearing the gossip about their lives but never socializing with them.

“You think spending the day with Ser Alan will be fun?” She asked as she looked at Aemond; her words and smile were one of jest.

That smile made Aemonds stomach feel warm.

The morning sun made her skin glow, and Aemond wished he could thank whatever handmaid had dressed Lyanna. For the dress she wore hung off her shoulders. The skin of her shoulders and collarbones were free to soak up the sun's rays, and Aemond could feel his mouth drying at the thought of what it might feel like against his skin, against his lips.

He pulled his eye away from the freckled skin and back toward Lyanna’s face. A tight smile was on his face, and any on-looker would assume that the prince was in a sour mood.

“I think spending the day with you in the King’s Wood will be fun,” He whispered to her, not wanting the people around them to hear such tender words.

“You honour me,” She whispered back, not hiding the smile that came on her face at his words.

– –

The ride to the Kingswood was filled with jokes shared between the prince and the soon-to-be lady of Harrenhal. The two of them were within their own world, not caring about the glances that were shot toward them by the other courtiers or side glances of Ser Arryk Cargyll.

The two simply enjoyed the ride toward the wilderness, with Aemond pointing out different features of architecture to Lyanna. She had enjoyed listening to the prince and his knowledge about the city he had lived in his whole life. She didn’t focus her attention anywhere else but on him as they rode through the city and eventually the King’s Road to get to the camp.

Once the group of courtiers arrived at the camp, Aemond could not help but slightly judge the scale of the camp. It all seemed rather intimate, with men and women all drinking and laughing loudly.

But maybe this is what this kind of event was like.

Part of Aemond suddenly realizes that he was not invited, that he had invited himself, but he could not care. He wanted to spend the day with Lyanna.

Aemond, still looking around, dismounted his horse first before handing the reins to Ser Arraky. He moved his neck around until he heard a satisfying crack. He then set his gaze on Lyanna, who was still atop her horse.

Aemond, being the gentleman that he is, moved toward Lyanna. Instead of taking hold of the reins, he offered her a hand, which she gladly accepted.

With one hand holding on hers, Aemond moved his other hand to rest against where he assumed her hip bone was. He relished in the moment of helping her dismount the horse and settling onto the ground.

Even once Lyanna had her bearings, Aemond did waver from her side. He watched as she pulled her hair over one shoulder, exposing the bare skin of the other. His eyes stayed lingering on her chest and how, with each breath she took, her chest would almost spill out of her chest.

The hand that Aemond had used to help Lyanna off her horse still rested against the dip of her hip. The feeling of her dress against his hand made his head hurt, knowing that only a few barriers separated them.

He quickly removed his hand and stepped away as the unmistakable sound of the most annoying knight of the seven kingdoms sounded behind him.

“Lyanna! You look beautiful, and with the flowers I have gifted you in your hair,” Alan broke the silence between Lyanna and Aemond. The knight’s arms were open wide in greeting, and a smile on his face.

Even Aemond could not deny that the soon-to-be lord of Horn Hill was handsome. His face was free of scars and a typical man of descent of the first man. A common trait he shared with Lyanna was that Alan properly did not have to learn the dance of customers that is shared between two lovers like Aemond had to.

Lyanna moved away from Aemond and toward the knight as she offered him a small smile. Aemond had not noticed the white flowers in Lyanna's hair, yet his gift cost significantly more than a few flowers. He’s held more meaning and commitment than some stupid flowers.

Yet Aemond knew she probably cherished the flowers.

“I thought I should make use of them before they wither away, Ser Alan,” Lyanna greeted back as she allowed the knight to take her hands.

“No need for the formalities today; it will simply be us,” He spoke sweetly to her, his voice like honey and Lyanna now remembered why she tolerated the man.

“I think that Lord Larys would appreciate it if the formalities stayed,” Aemond said as he moved to stand beside Lyanna. He did not break his gaze away from Alan, instead straightening his posture.

The moment the prince spoke up, the joy on Alan’s face left and was replaced with distaste. It seemed that the two men held the same feeling for one another.

“Prince Aemond,” Alan greeted with the bow of his head, letting go of Lyanna’s hands and stepping away from her.

Lyanna looked back at Aemond, a slight pout on her face, before looking back to Alan with a smile.

“The prince is to be my chaperone for the day,” she told him as she tried to uplift the mood and situation.

“How gracious of him,” He agreed, not looking at Lyanna but keeping eye contact with Aemond.

The soon-to-be Lord's tone was only joyous, and it became clear to Lyanna and Alan that their plans for the day would not go according to plan. Yet the prince could not be happier.

Lyanna grasped Alan's hands, pulling his attention back onto her and putting a warm smile on her face. She knew she had to charm a man who had been taught just like the rest of the daughters of nobility.

“I have read a great deal about the wildlife in this area. Ser Alan, would you like to accompany me while I try to forage for some flowers,” Lyanna proposed, but her smile vanished as Alan ripped away his hands from hers and took another step away from her.

“After I finish welcoming the rest of the ladies,” he told her curtly. Before Lyanna or Aemond could wish him a farewell, he was already moving toward another smaller group of ladies.

Lyanna nodded to herself as she took a deep breath. Smoothing out of the front of the dress, she was unaware of the longing gaze of the prince standing behind her.

“I will accompany you,” Aemond spoke once he was sure that Alan was far enough away from them, offering Lyanna his arm, which she gladly accepted.

“Thank my prince,” she thanked, giving him a small smile as they moved toward the tree line.

With one wave of his hand, Aemond dismissed Ser Arryk as he and Lyanna left the group and ventured into the woods.

–

“My prince?” Lyanna spoke up as she took Aemond’s arm once again.

The only response she got from Aemond was a low hum as he guided the two along the riverbed.

Lyanna kept glancing between him and the shrubbery around them, weighing the pros and cons of bringing up the topic she wished to talk about.

The gift that Aemond had given her was the main thing she wished to ask about, but she feared that she might come off as rude and ungrateful for the prince's generosity. But the meaning behind it weighed heavy on her mind.

If Aemond knew the significance or if it was just a friend gifting something to a friend like she had been doing with Helaena.

“Why the gift?” Lyanna finally asked as she kept her eyes away from him so as not to see how he reacted.

Aemond took his gaze off the greenery before them and glanced at Lyanna. He could see the slightest build-up of sweat on the side of her neck and that the bright sun was hurting her eyes. Could tell that she was slightly nervous when she asked her question.

Aemond looked back before them as they entered a fall clearing of tall grass and wildflowers. The sound of birds and the buzz of insects were slightly overwhelming, but the smell was divine. He understood now why Lyanna yearned for nature and if this was what she was giving up while residing within the Keep.

“Do I need a reason to give a dear friend of mine a gift?” Aemond simply asked as he tried to avoid answering the question.

He kept his back straight as Lyanna unlinked their arms and moved to look at the flowers in front of them. She had taken out the small white flowers in her hair when they first entered the tree line, mumbling what he assumed were cruses in a foreign language as she did so.

“I am your friend?” Lyanna asked as she picked a wildflower and handed it over to Aemond. The prince gladly took the flower from her as he nodded his head.

“I consider you one,” he answered as he followed her through the tall grass. It seemed like Lyanna knew where she was going, but a small part of Aemond worried about the safety of the land they were on.

“It’s just that to me, that kind of gift means something,” she told him, not stopping to look back at him.

It was easier for her to focus on the nature around her than the heavy gaze of the prince.

Aemond smiled as he noticed the slightest blush on the back of Lyanna’s neck. He would bet that her face held the same fairness of pink. A gift as simple as gloves had her flustered and confused, and that fact made Aemond proud of himself.

“I did not know; my apologies,” He apologized as he sped up his pace to keep stride with Lyanna.

Aemond knew what it meant. Knew that gloves were only given when serious interest was there. He had confirmed it not only with the maesters but also with two knights that were from the north.

Ser Criston had almost overheard the conversation he had to have. Gods know that the Kingsguard would have run to his mother and told her. The headache from that would not have been worth it.

“Perhaps you could tell my uncle such,” Lyanna proposes, worried about the future of their relationship if her uncle gets the wrong idea. “The gift of gloves is often a late courting gift between betrotheds. I fear that my uncle will think it is you showing interest,”

Aemond hummed for her to continue; part of him wanted to keep listening to Lyanna, and the other wanted to ensure he had gotten the right information.

“It symbolizes a man asking for the woman's hand. It is also a type of clothing,” She told him as she turned to look back at him.

Lyanna stepped back and leaned against what she knew to be an oak tree. She could feel the roughness of the bark against the soft skin of her back, and she was sure her hair would be intertwined with the bark.

She put her hands behind her back as she watched Aemond move closer to her as if a predator stalking its prey.

Aemond moved to stand before Lyanna, one of his feet almost next to her as he leaned his weight against one leg. The prince crossed his arms behind his back, looking over Lyanna once. The humidity of the air caused her hair to become slightly frizzy, and a few strands had stuck themselves onto her temples.

“What does clothing have to do with courting,” He asked as if he didn’t already know. But he wanted to hear her say it, needed to hear her say it.

Lyanna could feel her chest become hot as Aemond's gaze remained on her. She had nowhere to run, not that she wanted to.

She swallowed the saliva in her mouth before looking Aemond up and down. She did not know how he could look so flawlessly and perfectly put together.

Lyanna took a breath before straightening herself.

“You can not touch each other, so giving a gift that you have both had against your skin becomes the closest thing to it. Gloves, shirts, and garters,” she answered, her voice trailed off at the last word.

The prince had asked her a question, and who was she to deny him an answer.

The sides of his mouth perked slightly up at her words. Part of him thought that Lyanna would not tell him the whole truth, but he was glad she did. Aemond took another step toward the trapped Lyanna. They were so close to one another that their chests were almost touching.

Only one breath separated them from one another.

And at that, Lyanna could not help but slightly lick her lips as she forced herself to keep his gaze.

“Garters?” he asked, and his voice had a slight tone of jest.

Both of them knew that they should not be talking about this.

Should not be so close to one another.

Should not even be left alone with one another.

All it took was one onlooker for there to be repercussions of this conversation.

But that was part of the thrill for both of them.

“It’s scandalous. Erotic even, the intimacy of giving something that will hold up a woman's stockings so close...I’ve heard men even have messages in silk embroidered in them,” Lyanna continued, and she did not waver as she saw Aemonds hand move to touch a loose curl of her hair.

She did not move as she felt his knuckle gently graze against her ear or when one of his hands gently clasped around her waist.

She did not move as the prince leaned him to the other side of her face, cheek against cheek, as he whispered in her ear.

“What kind of messages?” he asked her before he moved his lips to ghost against the skin of her cheek and jawline.

“I have yet to have such kind of gift, so I can not say,” Lyanna answered as she carefully moved her head to the side, yet she worried that any movement she made would scare away the prince.

Aemond smiled as he gently planted a kiss against her jaw, moving his free hand to hold the other side of her neck; Lyanna moved to grab his wrist as she shifted on her feet.

Aemond carefully moved his thumb along the side of her jaw as his lips made their way to the underside of her jaw.

Everywhere he touched, he left a trail of waking fire along her skin. He could tell how his actions affected her by how her breathing deepened, and she leaned into him.

She could feel the blush that was on her face and chest. Yet she did not want the overwhelming feeling to end.

She wanted to feel his lips against all the skin of her body. She wanted to feel his hands against her skin. She wanted him.

She could take in here in the woods if he allowed. Fuck dignity and tradition. She now understood why lust dedicated people's actions.

“Maybe I could change that,” Aemond whispered against her skin as he planned another kiss against her skin.

Lyanna was about to nod before a lady's scream pulled them out of their haze. The two moved just far enough away to look each other in the eyes.

The sound of laughter of both men and women quickly followed the scream.

She was the first to move as she pulled herself away from Aemond and the tree. Not caring about the pain of her hair being stuck within the tree's bark. Lyanna moved her hand over the skin of her neck where Aemonds lips were.

She cleared her throat and turned to look at the prince, who was already watching her. For once, Lyanna could not read his face.

“It seems that the ladies are having fun. “We should rejoin the party, should we not?” Lyanna asked, and Aemond nodded. He started back toward the group, leaving Lyanna to follow after him.

– –

Lyanna was knelt before the Heart Tree. She could feel the wet dirt against her knees as it seeped through the fabric of her stocking, probably staining both the fabric and her skin with each second she stayed. The corset of her dress felt tight against her chest with each breath she took, and the pins in her hair felt like they were stabbing her scalp.

But through her pain, the only movement was those of her lips as she whispered her prayer.

She had made a beeline for the Godswood when she and Aemond arrived back at the keep, not stopping when she heard the prince call out to her. And once she arrived at the holy place, she had planted herself before the tree and had yet to leave it.

The sun had long left the sky, but Lyanna remained.

She prayed through the pain of hunger that came from her stomach—prayed through the bite of the chill of night. Her eyes closed so she did not have to see the red weeping tears of the tree judging her. Yet even with her eyes closed, she could still feel the eyes of the nameless gods judging her as she prayed and repented.

Whenever she thought she had prayed for enough forgiveness, her skin would burn where Aemond’s lips had once ghosted against her neck and lips, and then she would start the prayers again.

It seemed like any self-dignity and preservation that Lyanna thought she had would burn to ash the second the prince joined her side. No, whenever the prince was in eyesight, they would become as if the flames of desire burned inside her. Lyanna knew what would happen if anyone were to discover the events today: she would be sent back to Harrenhal, and the title she fought so hard for would be given to her uncle.

Lyanna could not allow that. Could not let all the sacrifices be for nothing.

Larys could not help but compare his niece to a child asking for forgiveness from a parent as he watched her pray. The moon's light casted a shadow of her body against the ground, and Larys was reminded of how young Lyanna was. He was sure that if her parents had survived the fire, they would fight to keep her locked away in Harrenhal and away from any man she might be able to marry.

The language of her prayers was now foreign to him, but he knew that his niece would not spend hours before her gods praying for a simple mistake. She had been raised by devout worshipers of the old ways, and every decision she made was with them in mind. Larys knew that much about his estranged niece.

“Care to say why you missed our dinner,” Larys broke the silence of the night.

He waited for Lyanna to respond to him, yet as he watched her kneeling figure, she made no movement to get up or answer him. Larys tapped his cane against the ground and cleared his throat, waiting for a response from the girl deep in prayer.

“No. I’m praying, so go away,” she answered him, her voice coarse, and it was clear that she needed a drink to soothe it.

Lyanna did not want to face her uncle. Even if he was a cripple, she was sure that he would be able to see through her lies and know precisely what she had done. That he would punish her for her harlot actions and desires.

So Lyanna remained knelt. She would stay before the tree until she could move past her improper behaviour and thoughts. The gods would tell her when she was done.

“You have been praying for hours,” His tone was one of authority, yet Lyanna could only choke down a snicker at it.

He might be her elder, but Larys held little true authority over her when they were in private. He could not physically punish her, nor would the rest of their family be okay with any humiliation that Larys might put her through as a punishment. She was sure her aunts would ride to the Keep themselves if he did so.

“I have been neglecting the gods since I arrived in the south; I just wish to show devotion once again,” Her voice was louder this time as if with each moment Larys spent in her presence, she was coming out of her trance of prayer.

“Lying before that tree is a sin, Lyanna. That is much I remember,” Larys told her, hoping to use her faith to gain the truth from her.

Her words were not lies and, therefore, not sin. She tried to tell herself.

Lyanna sighed to herself. She knew that Larys would not be leaving her alone. With shaky legs, she stood up. The sound of her knee popping raised slight concern, but the stiffness in her legs and throbbing pain in her head raised more.

Maybe she shouldn’t have skipped her dinner.

Lyanna's hands moved to rest on her hips as she took a deep breath and turned to face her uncle. Rolling her shoulders as she moved toward her henched man.

“Is praying to the old gods forbidden now? Do I need to go to the Stept and light a candle?” Her tone had a bit of bitterness and venom that the sweet girl here a second ago did not usually possess, but it was reminded of a woman he had long since forgotten.

Or tried to forget. She often plagued his dreams, and sometimes, when he was awake, he could swear that he saw her within the darkness of the corridors.

“It is time to retire for the day, Lyanna,” He calmly told her. He did not want to alert her of how her voice truly shivered his bones.

The darkness of the night made her hair look almost black; her soft features were suddenly sharp, and he could see a sparkle of green in the brown of her eyes. As Lyanna stood before Larys, it was as if her face was transforming into hers.

As he spoke, Lyanna could not help but roll her eyes. She knew that it was of no use to fight now. She was tired, and her bed was calling for her.

She let her arms fall and began to move toward the exit of the Godswood. But as she moved past her uncle, he quickly wrapped a hand around her arm, stopping her from moving further.

Larys debated whether or not he should press the issue further. He might be able to gain the truth from Lyanna if he continued to annoy her with his questions.

But as he held her arm in his hand, her eyes only narrowed, and her mouth turned into a scowl. The more he looked, the more he saw of her.

But she was always present in Lyanna in the way she held herself—the quickness to her jabs of words.

Larys let go of her arm, resting both hands on the pommel of his cane. He offered her a small fake smile.

“You remind so much of her in this light,” He quietly whispered to her, as if the tree in front of them was listening to the words.

Lyanna's brows pulled tougher, and she swallowed the spit in her mouth. She moved slightly to face her uncle, unsure of who he was referring to.

“My mother?” She asked, her voice louder than Larys’s.

He shook his head as he responded. “The wretched witch that raised you,”

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dreaming-of-mossballs · 5 months

Text

First Date..? - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: Gepard, after becoming ill to the point of passing out, asked you to go on a tour of the Belobog History and Culture Museum with him. Today is that day!

▸ Genre(s): fluff, a sprinkling of angst

▸ Word Count: 5.5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions, mentions of domestic abuse

A/N: MY LAST POST SHOWED IN THE TAGS!!!! It brought a ton of new people in <3 hello gepard fans, this is a part of my series! You can find more in the masterlist. (Or don’t. I try to make it so you can start wherever.)

the dividers are being stupid but i decided to keep them

MASTERLIST

Gepard, the heir to the Landau name and a sworn Silvermane Guard, wasn’t sure if he had ever felt this nervous in his life.

From his first interview as a cadet to the ceremony promoting him to the position of “Captain,” his heart had never beat as loudly as it did that day. It sent tremors through his chest that traveled all the way to his throat.

He stood resting an arm on the counter of the Neverwinter Workshop reception desk, paying no mind to his sister as she milled about, rummaging through drawers of tools and combing through filing cabinets.

A heavy sigh escaped the captain’s lips as he tapped his fingers apprehensively. All he could focus on was the antique clock on the wall taunting him as it tick, tick, ticked away. Closer and closer to the time he’d be meeting you.

Serval’s voice drew him out of the thoughts weighing his mind down.

“Earthwork should be good to go,” she said, hoisting the shield device slash guitar case onto the counter with a thump.

The bronze safety goggles resting precariously on the top of her head tumbled to the floor. Those would definitely cost a pretty penny.

“Let me know if the shield deployment acts up again, alright?”

Gepard took the procedural report from her and nodded. “You have my gratitude once again, sister. The guards should send you an invoice soon,”

Suddenly, the bell in the central plaza rang. Its sound sent shivers down his spine, which he tried to shake off by glancing absentmindedly out the window. This did not go unnoticed by his sister.

“You seem a little antsy today, Geppie. What’s messing with your rhythm?”

“Ah?” Gepard responded while tucking the yellow slip of paper into his pocket. “I merely have a few affairs that need attending to. The concern is appreciated, though,”

He straightened his collar, averting his eyes. She stared at him incredulously at this pathetically conspicuous act.

“You know?” she snorted. “You are possibly one of the worst liars on Jarilo-VI,”

She dropped her wrench on the desk carelessly, and he stiffened immediately.

“You never act this distant when it comes to affairs. In fact, most of the time you’re pretty quick to pass them off to me!” Serval shook a finger at him. “I’ve had my fair share of headaches, so you better fess up right now, little brother,” she hissed.

She stomped around the counter over the unfortunate pair of goggles and leaned in a good five or so inches away from his face. Gepard mustered all the will in his body to keep his lips straight and his facade up. “Ah— um,”

“Does this, in any way, shape or form, have to do with (Y/N)?” she barked.

“N-no, I…” His eyes flickered for a second at a pot of indigo flowers behind her. Serval, like her namesake, used this as an excuse to pounce.

“It does, doesn’t it? You broke eye contact!” She accused.

“Anyone would, in that situation!” He defended himself, clenching his jaw tightly. “You need to find better methods of interrogating people than that, sister,”

“Excuse you,” Serval snapped. “I’m just curious! We DO share a lot of friends, but (Y/N) is the only one I don’t work with.” She folded her arms.

Gepard ran a hand from his chin all the way to his hair with a groan. The last time they had squabbled like this, he hadn’t yet graduated from cadet school.

He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t what I was thinking about. As for (Y/N), I happen to be seeing them at the museum today. Are you satisfied with this information?”

His sister rolled her eyes at the biting remark and wiped a hand across her brow, smearing motor oil on her forehead. “Yeah. Fine. Don’t bother telling all the juicy details of how that came to be. They’d just be wasted on me!”

Gepard’s shoulders dropped in exasperation as he stared at her. “Why are you so invested in this, sister? You hardly give a single snowflake about my personal life. What changed?”

If looks could kill, Gepard would be six feet under.

“Hey. I’m trying to help you and your hopeless love life!” His sister nearly exploded with frustration. He quickly took a step back.

“Every time you two are in the same room, your face goes pink and you’re completely paralyzed,” she said, exasperated. “At this rate, you’ll grow old before your feelings reach them!”

She stuck a finger in her mouth with a gagging noise. Gepard blushed even harder.

“My feelings have nothing to do with you, sister,” he sputtered while simultaneously going over every single time you’ve happened to be in a room together in his head.

Serval stopped for a moment, her hackles seeming to fall. Her voice dropped an octave. “They do, actually,”

Serval sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Y’know, Gepard… I’ve seen you go your entire life laying down everything you’ve ever had for Belobog. Isn’t it about time you pursue something— someone, that makes you happy?”

She paused, letting the words linger in his mind. Then she spoke again.

“Y’know, that you love,”

The air between them became thick with silence.

Serval sighed, leaning her back against the counter. Her little brother seemed to lack the words to respond.

“I’ve seen how you light up when you see them. And it hurts me seeing you stamp your feelings down each and every time,”

She searched in his eyes for any sign that her message was reaching him. But she did not find one.

“I’ve told you this before. Love isn’t something you can half-ass. You have to put your all into it—,” she twirled a pen around in her hand to blow off some steam. “—I don’t even care if you don’t want my help. I just want you to feel like you can confide in me, okay?”

She looked back at her brother, who was now staring at the floor, and smiled wistfully.

Well, Belobog wasn’t built in a day, after all.

Serval shrugged. “Anyways. You don’t have to listen to your big sis. I just think you should spend as much time with them before you’re sent away on another campaign.” Her tone became humorous. “Make sure you’re aaa-ll they think about when you’re gone,”

Gepard’s head shot up, his mouth going agape, and he quickly shut it.

“Why would I want to do that??”

“So you two can send each other looong letters about how much you love and miss each other, of course!” Serval chuckled teasingly, sticking her tongue out at her furiously blushing younger brother.

“They— they don’t feel that way about me,” he choked out.

She folded her arms at his defeated tone. “Maybe they don’t, but you two have chemistry!”

She slapped him on the shoulder heartily, which caused him to choke on the breath he was taking. “I can tell they care for you. And since when have Landaus been ones to give up?”

Gepard let out an exhale through his nose at the saying his sister would always repeat when they were kids.

“…never,”

“That’s right, little brother! Now, how long before your little date?”

He sighed again. “I’m going after I put my shield in the barracks,”

This time, it was Serval’s turn to freeze. “Right now?!” Her eyes burned holes into him.

“Yes, right now,”

She launched herself at him and dug her long nails into his shoulders. He stumbled backwards, trying to keep his balance. “NO. NO YOU CAN’T. NOT LIKE THAT,”

“Why is that?” Gepard blinked in surprise.

“You’re off duty today and you’re still in uniform? We’ve gotta get you tidied up,” she gasped.

“I sincerely doubt that they care—,” he started, remembering the time you showed up to a cafe with your gardening gloves on and dirt smudged on your face.

Serval bristled at him. He swallowed nervously.

He knew better than to keep talking.

His sister grabbed him harshly by the shoulder and yanked him out the door towards the estate.

Oh Aeons. This wasn’t going to be good.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

And finally, there you were. Gepard spotted you people watching as you waited outside of the Belobog History and Culture Museum, back rested on the handrail languidly, like a tourist.

You turned towards him with one hand gripping a pamphlet, the other shielding your eyes from the sun and—

Oh wow.

Why did he look like that?

He was taking long strides towards you, in an outfit that could only be described as way over-the-top. His hair was slicked back so you could see his forehead and (very strong) jawline, and he wore a brilliant white suit with silver accents that was most definitely meant for something more formal than a trip to the museum.

Additionally, he had on a long white cape that stopped at his ankles. With the bright sunlight shining down, it was blinding.

He looked like a foreign prince, from one of those novels Vaska liked to read. One woman’s jaw dropped as he passed by.

Oh, Aeons. Serval had definitely played a part in this one.

You, on the other hand, wore the same thing you always did. The green florist’s uniform coupled with a beret (which was rather charming, in your opinion). You shook yourself off and walked up to meet him.

“Hiya Captain!” You said as he approached.

Gepard felt something stab through his chest at the formal title, but he brushed it off.

“Glad to see you’re back in shape— and whoa, you look nice today.”

You looked him up and down keenly, and Gepard thought he felt his heart stop.

“Y-yes. I happened to have made a full recovery, thank you. Shall we go in?” He cringed inwardly at his inability to speak.

As much as he hated it, Serval was right. His heart was beating sixteenth notes as he looked at you. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t slow it down.

You nodded. But your eyes darted to the side for a second, showing a hint of uncertainty.

“Yeah! Um… Maybe lose the cape though?”

You gasped as you saw him quickly cover his face with his hand.

“N-not like it doesn’t look good on you! I was just thinking it might catch on the displays, y’know,”

“No, no. I get it.” Gepard let out a small groan, much like an arctic bear cub. “Serval insisted on dressing me up before I left. I should have told her not to.”

He grimaced, knowing all too well that it wouldn’t have made a difference either way. He then unclasped the cape and rolled it up into a tight ball, tucking it under his arm.

Whew. That was most definitely better. He looked less like a prince and more like your average rich noble. Although, if you were being honest, that wasn’t great either.

And so, he showed you into the museum with the hospitality of an attendee (he had worked there, after all). You felt like royalty. And Aeons, the lobby was absolutely perfect. It had an air of welcoming in it, and it smelled like history! Or dust. One of the two, you figured.

In true Underworld fashion, you waltzed up to the reception desk and immediately began making small talk. The blonde woman seemed startled but made nothing of it.

“How much for tickets?” You leaned your elbows on the counter. Her eyes landed on Gepard, who unbeknownst to you, was approaching from behind.

“Oh? Are you two here together?” She gasped. You whipped around, startled. “Volunteers are allowed to bring one guest for free. We appreciate your visit, Captain Gepard,”

She bowed her head respectfully and he nodded. He lightly placed a hand on your shoulder, which in turn, caused you to jump nearly half a foot in the air.

Great. Just great.

“Would you like to accompany me to the automaton section first?” He inquired. You weren’t certain, but you thought you heard a hint of shyness in his tone.

Like I’d run off without my tour guide in a building this big, you thought, glancing up at the huge arching ceilings in the main area.

“Sure! You’d better give me a tour worth a five-star review, Captain,” you chuckled.

That seemed to flip a switch. “I’ll do my utmost,” he declared.

He glanced down at you as you laughed lightly at his fiercely determined demeanor, feeling his cheeks warm at the sound of your voice. And with that, you began your tour through the museum.

First you stopped at the side parlor, which housed numerous automatons borrowed from the Robot Settlement. The models were polished and the descriptions were lengthy, which made you beam with pride. They sure knew how to treat the robots right.

Next you made your way to the main hall. It had an abundance of artifacts in sturdy glass cabinets, and beautifully intricate paintings that stole your breath away.

Gepard made sure to narrate every piece you seemed even moderately interested in. He loved how your eyes seemed to sparkle when he’d quote something he’d read in a history book, giving you a taste of the delves of information he kept stored in his brain as a Belobogian noble.

If it were up to him, you’d have access to every archive on the face of Jarilo-VI.

And you, you loved how he’d get so absorbed in explaining things that the words seemed to pour out of his mouth as he pointed at the displays. Even with the hum of the Geomarrow heaters and the constant chatter of visitors, his voice was the only one you seemed to hear.

Such simple joy it brought you. Here, staring at the photograph of the Eversummer Florists together, and chatting as if you weren’t two whole worlds apart. Gepard’s eyes took in every detail, every flower and every ray of sunlight trickling in through the windows.

You tore your gaze away from his profile to stare at your leather shoes just for a moment. Something vague flapped at the corners of your mind, but now really wasn’t the time to try and sort it out, you told yourself.

“Why don’t we tour the projector room next?” Gepard said, leaning down to look you in the eyes intently. You felt your heart leap at his voice.

Boy, were you in deep.

You mustered a smile as best you could, hoping it wasn’t too stiff.

“Sure! Lead the way,”

You had never seen such a wonderful piece of technology before. You both sat down on the velvet benches, entranced by the images flickering across the canvas.

This time, it was Gepard’s turn to stare. He’d seen it all before in his days as a volunteer. But seeing you gazing in awe at the projection as the light reflected in your eyes. That was something new.

Sitting there, shoulder to shoulder. Like equals. Watching the same screen, seeing the same things. It made his heart flutter like nothing ever had.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Wow. I am wiped!” you exclaimed after departing from the museum. “That was a great tour. Do you accept tips, Mister Volunteer Guide?” You grinned at him and Gepard let out an amused huff.

“I simply repeated what they taught me in primary school,”

“Yeah?” You inquired. “It was super immersive, though. I think you’d make a great history teacher,”

He went almost entirely pink at the compliment.

You chuckled to yourself. It wasn’t hard to make him blush, you thought.

“And also, what’s a primary school?” You piped up.

“Oh?” He paused. “It’s the first school kids attend on the surface. They learn to read, write, and all the other various things required of them,”

“Really? I remember Natasha teaching us how to read and write, but then it was straight to the mines for us,” you pondered, reminiscing back on your childhood in the Great Mine.

Suddenly, Gepard’s shoulder crashed into yours, sending you reeling into the Geomarrow heater to your left with a loud bang. You hurriedly grabbed it before it crashed to the ground.

Interestingly enough, the cause of this confusion was a small but speedy child, who had rammed into Gepard’s right leg by accident.

The child with short umber hair didn’t look back once after knocking into you, shouting “sorry,” and continuing to sprint, as a gang of ten or more children trampled after him. Their footsteps echoed along the walls of the lower floor of the Administrative district, which amplified them until it really did sound like a herd of animals.

All of the kids were carrying flags and pinwheels, staple items for the upcoming Solwarm festival, but they were wearing clothes belonging to both the Overworld and the Underworld.

This sent a jolt of surprise to your core. They played together so easily, it was like the past few decades hadn’t even happened.

“Little rascals,” you snickered, pulling away from the bench and brushing yourself off. You both stood and watched the children barrel down the road, knocking unsuspecting grown-ups into the next week. At one point, they stopped in a wide-open area and began to kick around a beanbag, their laughter ringing like bells.

Gepard’s brows furrowed, a pensive look appearing on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” You tilted your head at him with a smile on your lips.

His thoughtful expression had to have been one of your favorites.

He returned your gaze from where he was staring at the children chattering, running, and playing without a care in the world. Gepard felt the pang of a familiar memory in his chest.

“I was just considering… how nice it is to see relationships between the Overworld and the Underworld lessening in tension.”

He sighed. “I know it may sound silly, but some used to discourage interactions between the two,”

The look in Gepard’s eyes became a little more distant. “My father, for instance,”

You looked at him questioningly as he drew in a deep breath.

“I remember he once threw a vase at me in a fit of anger, after discovering I’d been visiting a group of kids from the mines,”

He glanced at the ground, looking quite like a lost puppy. “I had never heard the stories that they were telling before, so I just… kept going back to listen,”

You felt your mouth fall slightly ajar. He kept speaking.

“Thankfully, I didn’t get hurt that day, but the only reason is because my sister stepped in order to protect me,”

Your eyes widened in shock. “How— how old were you?”

“I believe I was five at the time,” Gepard stated. Almost like it was nothing.

“I think that’s where I gained some of my resolve,” he continued. “My own sister stepped forward to protect me without a thought for her own safety. So I grew up wanting to be strong, like her,”

Gepard curled his hand into a fist, letting memories of his childhood wash over him in his usual manner of acceptance. But when he looked back at you, only a glimpse of your face could be seen. You stared at the ground silently, and he could very well tell that your fists and jaw were clenched tight.

Waves of frustration at the realization crashed over you and your breath went hot. You stared back up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

“He threw… a vase at you?” You said.

Hurt leaked into your voice against your will and you felt your heart had snapped in two. It seemed like both he and Serval harbored animosity toward their father.

And now you knew why. There was no way this was a one-time thing.

“That’s— wow, I don’t know what to say, Gepard,”

The captain showed little to no reaction. He looked back at the plaza with a soft exhale. One that exuded both sadness and gradual adjustment.

“He’s… always been that way. The Landaus, well, they all have their own sort of stubbornness in their values. His just tended to come out more,” he said.

“Stubborn, maybe.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “But he had no right to throw something at you. That could’ve really hurt a small child,”

You remembered being trapped in a landslide as a kid, and another child had kicked you in the face trying to escape. You were sent tumbling down the canyon where you fractured your shoulder and leg.

But to live with someone who, at any moment, could snap and hurt you? That was something else entirely.

Communities in the Underworld were based on a mutual network of trust. You couldn’t imagine having no one to turn to when you were scared. You stifled a sob.

“If I’m being honest with myself,” Gepard said softly, resting a hand on his chin. “It’s stuck with me well into my adult years. I haven’t quite dispelled all the preconceptions I’ve been raised with,”

“It doesn’t seem like he would have give you much room to, anyways,” you commented. “I think you two have both grown up to be wonderful people, even though you’ve faced so many hardships,”

He nodded solemnly, taking each and every word to heart. “But now, seeing these children at play, it gives me hope for the future… That Belobog truly can heal,”

It was at this moment you remembered, the captain was a kid too at one point. Behind the stoic exterior and steadfast resolve, there was a child that laughed and cried. One that had his own internal struggles, besides leading an army and reporting directly to the Supreme Guardian.

His childhood must have really had an impact on him. How would he have been different, if he had grown up in a happier home, you wondered. Despite the pain, you smiled.

Out of the blue, an idea popped into your brain.

“You know what I think, Gepard?” You chirped. “I think you just might be right!”

In a fit driven by inspiration, you leaped onto the nearest cafe table, offering your hand to your startled companion. He took it and carefully stepped onto the steel chair to join you.

“Overworld. Underworld. Why should it matter?” You shrugged confidently. “We’re here already, aren’t we? Look at us!”

You beamed at him and spun around with your arms outstretched on the wooden surface.

Turning to face him, you took both of his hands in yours. They felt warm. A soft kind of happiness filled Gepard’s eyes as he slotted his fingers in between your own.

“That’s right, we are.” He smiled gently.

You stood there for a moment, ignoring all the passerby and also the confused waitress calling for the shop owner.

If only you could take this sliver of time and put it in your pocket. You both held your breath, hoping that if you didn’t move, you could stay there until the world stood still.

Your eyes trailed to Gepard’s cheeks, which still had a slight blush to them, (maybe from the cold), down to the silver clasps that held his jacket together.

Glancing back up at his kind eyes, you felt something inside you chipping its way out.

—love you.

Your eyes went as round as the shield coins they exchanged at the Eversummer Florist’s.

What?

Oh no— oh no. Hold on. I knew something was, um, off, but is my brain playing tricks on me?

Was I just caught up in the moment? Why did I even think that?

Gepard stared at you quizzically, unaware of the mental battlefield you had just gotten your left arm blown off in.

Your heart began to race faster than one of those antique cars they had at the museum. His hands still clasped yours tightly, even as you tried to drop them gently.

You let out a strangled sound from your throat that sounded like “huegh” while steam poured out of your ears.

“(Y/N)?” He said, confused but seemingly unfazed.

You turned towards the closest brick wall, still holding his hands. Your eyes darted around like a cat after a loud disturbance.

No. I cant keep lying to myself like this.

You braced yourself for the realization as best you could.

I’m… in love with Gepard.

It still wasn’t enough. The sky and the ground seemed to reverse that very second as everything went upside down.

Still holding his hands, the first round of mental gymnastics began. You felt almost dizzy as thoughts flooded your brain, so you looked at your shoes to combat it.

(His were there too so it didn’t help much.)

Thoughts like:

Have… I been in love with him this whole time?

And, When did it start? And why? And, Did he notice? What if I’ve been super duper obvious??

And last but not least, Oh, Qlipoth. Please preserve my sanity—,

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about—,”

You were lifting your head again in order to make your statement seem sincere when, something that was crazier than the time you decided to go crowd surfing on a line of robots, popped into your mind.

Kiss him. A part of you whispered internally.

Every muscle in your body froze.

Do it. You know you want to, the voice spoke again.

Your eyes travelled slightly downward to his lips. All you had to do was—

You yanked your hands away from his harshly, opting to stare at his chest instead of his face in shame.

Oh. My. AEONS. You grabbed your face with both hands. Did I think that? Did I just think that??

No. I don’t think I did, you consoled yourself hurriedly. I think Serval developed a device that projects thoughts into people’s heads, and I’m her test subject!

Gepard made a slight movement. A jerk of the head, which was nothing noteworthy now that you look back on it, but with everything going on at that moment, it was enough to set you off.

You yelped. Just like a snow fox.

The next few moments were a blur. You had taken a step backward without realizing you were on a table, and the surface was in fact, finite, and ended up toppling onto the cold stone ground behind you.

You narrowly missed a stack of crates, which would have definitely left a mark, had you landed on one of the edges.

Gepard had practically leaped off the table to check if you were okay, but the shopkeeper had appeared, waving his broom furiously at the both of you.

Your companion tried his best to placate the man but he wasn’t having it.

In a rush of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and took grabbed Gepard’s hand, making a quick dash around the corner.

Hopefully the man wouldn’t recognize him. With this particular outfit, you thought Gepard might stand a chance.

In a cruel twist of fate, you both ended up huffing and puffing in a narrow alleyway behind a drugstore. All that dotted the area was a dumpster and a few posters advertising a play that was five months out of season.

“I think we lost him,” you panted, and promptly dissolved into giggles. “Did you see his face? He was all like—,” you cut off, waving your arms around with a wacky expression.

You wheezed once more and doubled over to hold your stomach as cackling erupted from your throat. Gepard was resting against the wall as well, while his chest heaved with effort.

“Ohhh!” You said, raising your head once more. “Now I remember what I was saying— I wanted to thank you for showing me around so often. I hope I’m not being too much of a burden,” you chuckled to yourself.

Gepard pulled the cape out from where it had been caught between his legs before he responded.

“Not in the slightest, (Y/N). I’m always happy to be of assistance,” he responded.

You wiped fake sweat off your brow (even though you really were sweating). “Sweet. I’m gonna go grab a drink from the vending machine, if ya don’t mind. Want one?”

“I’d appreciate it,”

You ran to the vending machine while Gepard waited, keeping a lookout while his back was pressed against the wall. He was certain his jacket would need a fair amount of dry cleaning afterward. You bounded back with two Strawberry Svarog sodas in hand and popped them open.

Gepard threw his head back and drank heartily. He let out a satisfied sigh after drinking the last drop, while you clutched your bottle tightly after only drinking it halfway.

He was almost seen. You were struck with this thought.

You grimaced. There’s no way the higher ups at the fort would appreciate whatever tomfoolery you were dragging him into.

I shouldn’t let these feelings— no, myself, get in his way.

You two were completely different people, after all. He had a job and a reputation to hold down. You were just a florist.

Maybe they’ll fade with time. You hoped. I guess… I just have to hold on until then,

Because… because there’s no way he’d feel that way about me.

For a split second, it seemed like all of your happiness had leaked out of you and disappeared down the storm drain.

You quickly swallowed the feelings that had formed a hard lump in your throat. Hoping to clear up the silence, you whipped towards Gepard with false cheer, in hopes he wouldn’t notice your mood had dampened.

“So, Captain—,”

His lip stiffened. Again with the “captain?”

“Didja hear the news about the observatory?” You chattered, kind of absentmindedly. “They’ve finally been able to repair the main telescope, and soon it’ll be open for public use again!”

“Is that so? The last time I used that telescope, I was just a boy,” he replied, slightly shocked.

“Yep! I’ve seen the sky before, but I’ve never seen it, like… up close. You know?”

He smiled as you spread your arms grandly.

“Do the guards have a telescope?” You asked with a curious look in your eyes.

Gepard thought for a second, before he replied, “I imagine we did, many hundreds of years ago. But I think the Fragmentum threat posed too great a danger on the surface that—,”

He glanced up at the small patch of sky unobscured by the walls of the alleyway. It sparkled in his eyes.

“—we could no longer afford to pay attention to the sky,”

You joined him in gazing at the clouds.

What a world that would be.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus Scene 1

After the events that had transpired, and you both had gone home, Gepard was now focused on unbuttoning the seemly endless number of clasps on his coat.

This clasp in particular was incredibly frustrating. Every time he’d get ahold of it, it would slip out from between his fingers.

The captain was considering giving up and just wearing the gaudy thing forever when numerous alerts from Serval went off on his phone.

From: Serval at 15:19

Serval: geppie

Serval: hey

Serval: howd it go

You: Well, thank you.

The captain pinched the bridge of his nose irritably. Couldn’t she have waited at least an hour or so before barging in on his affairs?

His phone dinged once more.

I suppose that’s a no.

From: Serval at 15:20

Serval: is that all?

Serval: You’re totally leaving something out

Serval: oops. im being nosy again.

Serval: Call me if u wanna talk, ok?

Gepard sighed, debated for a moment what he’d rather do, then finally gave in and hit the “call” button.

[“Geppie! You called!”] Serval’s voice crackled to life through the speaker.

He could hear her smile radiating through the phone. The corners of his lips rose slightly, much to his own surprise.

“Indeed I did, sister,”

Bonus Scene 2

Back at the scene on top of the cafe table!

To keep his hands from trembling, Gepard stayed completely and utterly still.

Probably too still.

Your hands were warm, so warm. Although standing on top of a table at a random cafe wasn’t the most romantic setting, he felt like he could bring you into his embrace right then and there.

Never before had he felt so lacking in control of his own desires. Something seemed to be tugging at your thoughts, as you were looking around anxiously.

Could it be you didn’t want him to be spotted because his face was so well known? Gepard could only guess what kind of thoughts were bouncing around your brain.

He watched as you looked, back up from your shoes, to his sheepish face. Your eyes were more beautiful than the clearest ice crystals. Warmer, too. His gaze softened as he saw your eyes flick toward his lips.

And then Gepard did the unthinkable.

He leaned in closer.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

That choice did not end well for either of you.

After checking if you had hit your head and ducking into the nearest alleyway, Gepard wanted to strangle himself mentally.

Why? Why had he made such a stupid decision?

Out of all the choices, that was the most reckless one.

He really should have known better. At this rate, he risked losing your friendship because of his own selfish feelings.

The captain rested his back against the wall in shame as you ran to get drinks from a vending machine.

A man of his caliber shouldn’t be making such mistakes. He should get his act together and court you correctly, for the love of Qlipoth.

But Aeons, he could only ask himself:

What if he had waited a single second longer?

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

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