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herstoryheaven · 2 months

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Charles Leclerc x Reader: A Fur-Ever Family

Prompt: You and Charles decide to adopt a pet together. The process of choosing, bringing home, and caring for your new furry friend brings out your nurturing sides and adds a new dimension to your relationship.

Reader: Gender Neutral

Word count: 846

Average reading time: 3 min 5 sec

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Charles and Y/N strolled hand in hand through the narrow streets of Monte Carlo, their steps in sync, their hearts light with joy. Today was a special day for them; they were about to adopt their first pet together, a long-haired cream Dachshund they had already decided to name Leo.

“Are you excited, mon amour?” Charles asked, his voice soft and filled with affection. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Y/N, the love of his life.

“More than you can imagine.” Y/N replied, squeezing his hand. “I’ve always wanted to have a dog, and now we’re doing this together. It feels perfect.”

Charles stopped walking for a moment, pulling Y/N close. He cupped her face gently in his hands, gazing into her eyes. “You make everything perfect,” he whispered before leaning in for a tender kiss. The romantic moment was briefly interrupted by a group of children running past, laughing and playing, reminding them of the lively world around them.

The couple arrived at the pet adoption center, their excitement bubbling over as they entered. The sound of playful barks and meows filled the air, and they were greeted by a friendly staff member who led them to the area where Leo was waiting.

As soon as they saw Leo, it was love at first sight. The little Dachshund wagged his tail furiously, his big brown eyes filled with curiosity and excitement. Charles knelt down and extended a hand towards Leo, who immediately trotted over and sniffed it before giving it a friendly lick.

“Look at him, Y/N,” Charles said, his voice full of awe. “He’s perfect.”

Y/N knelt beside Charles and gently petted Leo’s soft fur. “He really is. I can’t believe he’s ours.”

The adoption process was quick, and soon they were on their way home with Leo happily settled in Y/N’s arms. Charles kept his arm around your waist, occasionally glancing over at you and Leo, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of his beloved and their new furry friend.

Once home, they set about making Leo comfortable. They had prepared a cozy bed, bought toys, and filled bowls with food and water. Leo explored his new surroundings with curiosity, his little tail never stopping its wagging.

“He’s going to be so spoiled,” Charles said with a chuckle as he watched Y/N play with Leo, her laughter filling the room.

“He deserves it,” Y/N replied, smiling up at Charles. “We’re going to give him the best life.”

Over the next few days, Leo settled into their home and hearts. Charles and Y/N found themselves falling into a routine, each day filled with moments of joy and laughter brought on by Leo’s playful antics. They took turns feeding him, taking him for walks along the beach, and cuddling with him on the couch in the evenings.

One evening, as they sat on the couch with Leo nestled between them, Charles took Y/N’s hand in his. “Y/N, adopting Leo with you has made me realize something,” he said, his voice serious but filled with love. “I want to build a life with you, filled with moments like this. You, me, and Leo, forever.”

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes as she looked at Charles. “I want that too, Charles. More than anything.”

Charles leaned in and kissed Y/N, a promise of a beautiful future together. As their lips met, Leo barked happily and wriggled his way between them, pushing his little snout in an attempt to join the affection.

“Leo! You little rascal.” Charles laughed, gently pushing Leo back.

“He just wants to be part of the moment.” Y/N giggled, holding Leo close.

Charles pretended to pout. “He’s stealing my kisses now.” he teased.

“Guess you’ll have to share.” Y/N replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Charles leaned in for another kiss, but Leo jumped up, licking Y/N’s cheek instead. Y/N laughed and Charles couldn’t help but join in. “Alright, alright, you win, Leo.” Charles said, playfully rubbing the pup’s head.

Later that evening, Charles and Y/N found themselves in a playful tug-of-war with Leo. Charles would reach for a toy, only for Leo to clamp down on it and tug with surprising strength. Y/N watched, laughing, as Charles pretended to struggle.

“You’re no match for Leo, Charles.” Y/N teased.

“Oh, is that so?” Charles grinned, then lunged playfully at Y/N, tickling her sides. Y/N squealed, trying to wriggle away while holding Leo, who was now excitedly nipping at Charles’s fingers.

“Hey, hey! Not fair.” Charles laughed, pulling his hand back and shaking it. “Leo, you little biter!”

Y/N was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. “He’s defending me! Good boy, Leo!”

Charles pouted dramatically, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “You’ve both ganged up on me. What am I to do?”

Y/N leaned in, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “You love us both too much to mind.” she whispered.

Charles wrapped his arms around Y/N and Leo, pulling them both close. “You’re right about that, mon amour.” he murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N’s forehead.

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Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

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vaguesxrrow · 4 months

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Can you do prompt number 29 with the cat king please(:

tysm for the request ! ive never written for him before so i was very excited to. this is short but sweet so i hope u dont mind that <3

cat king / reader - doing something silly to cheer them up

a/n: i'm not the best at writing jokes so apologies if this sounds a bit clunky 😅 and also this is the pic of the apron thomas wears

wc: 777

tags: gender neutral reader, alive human reader

prompt 29. doing something silly to cheer them up // one time thomas does it for you, and one time you do the same for him

you stumbled into your flat, immediately dropping your bag in favour of massaging your temple, where a throbbing headache was working away at your sanity. a cat padded up to you, meowing in question. a cloud of dust formed, and before you stood thomas, slitted eyes narrowed in concern.

"headache, babe?" he asked.

you nodded. "i've had it since noon."

he tutted in sympathy, kissing you on the forehead. "let's get you to bed," he said as he snapped his fingers, transporting you to your bedroom, where the lights were already dimmed and your pillows were already arranged in the exact way you liked them. he ushered you onto your mattress, tucking you in.

"sleep," he whispered into your ear, and you felt your eyes get heavy as you relaxed into the mattress.

you only woke again to the irresistible aroma of cookies. letting your nose lead you, you trudged to the kitchen, where your eyes immediately zeroed in on the plate of gingerbread cookies on the table. when reaching for them, you realised the gingerbread men were all missing some part of their body, and had comedic frowns drawn on their faces in icing. the one you were holding right now was missing a hand, and its expression looked very clearly upset.

you laughed. "thomas, did you make these?"

he was standing at the kitchen counter, bent over what you presumed to be another batch, with a piping tube in his hand. when he whirled around, you only laughed harder. his apron - god knew where he got that from - was neon green, and had the words 'the food has weed in it' neatly embroidered on the front, surrounded by various flowers and plants... including the one mentioned in the text.

"only the best for my sweetheart," he stated simply. "don't they look positively… horrified?"

"they do," you agreed. "i didn't know you had such a talent for baking... or that you've had this very unique apron this whole time."

he kissed you chastely. "i'm glad you're smiling again."

you grinned, leaning in again for a deeper kiss. "all thanks to you."

⌦ --

"would it be bad of me to kill a disciple?" thomas asked, flopping face down onto your bed. when he had appeared at your window, clawing furiously at the glass, you barely batted an eye before letting him in. he had paced for a while in cat form, growling furiously, before he transformed and began a tangent on how problematic his cats were being these days.

"i am their king!" he said, now. "do they not realise that? or... do i not act like it?"

you awh'ed in sympathy, moving to lay shoulder to shoulder with him. both of you were stomach down. your eyes were firmly trained on thomas, who was still adamantly huffing into your bedsheets.

"honestly, thomas, i think they're just jealous," you said casually. "i bet they spend time behind gargabe cans whining about how much they wish they were you. you know that whiny one, karl? yeah, he seems like the type to throw a hissy fit and be petty."

he barked (irony unintended) a short laugh. at last, he turned around to face you. "really?" he drawled.

you nodded vigorously. "oh, yeah," you said, sounding extremely convinced. "y'know those book clubs with old, gossipy ladies? that's definitely them."

thomas bit back an amused smile. "are you calling my cats old?"

"hey!" you said defensively. "you were the one complaining about them first."

"i'm their king, i'm allowed to say that," he argued.

you ran a hand over the nape of his neck, scritching the spot where his hair began. "yeah, you are. and you're a great king. no one could doubt that."

he preened under your touch, moving closer for more contact. you smirked mischievously, your gentle touch suddenly changing to a tickle attack as you jabbed your fingers into his neck. he yelped, even as a surprised laugh burst from his throat.

"what was that for?" he gasped in betrayal.

"clearly my humour wasn't enough to make you laugh, so i resorted to more physical means." you sat up, looking at him in challenge.

he snickered. "well, you know i'm all about payback," he said as he transformed into his cat form with a playful growl. he nimbly climbed up your shoulders, weaving around your neck and licking the back of your ears as you squirmed, trying to escape. you squawked when thomas transformed back, collapsing on top of you as he chuckled.

"the things i suffer through just to cheer you up," you cried dramatically.

he nosed your cheek. "well, just know that i appreciate it.”

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives x reader #dbd #dead boy detectives fic #cat king x reader #cat king/reader #thomas the cat king x reader #cat king #thomas the cat king

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silverflqmes · 6 months

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begging for a cloud x reader fluff of reader hiring him to help her get her cat stuck out of the tree but he loves her so much thats it free of charge

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄.

notes. CLOUD HELPING A KITTY YES<3 anon you are onto something fr tysm for this request, i hope this fulfills what you had in mind, it’s a little on the shorter side.. but enjoy<3

genre. fluff

cloud strife x gn!reader.

getting a cat out of a tree was the last request cloud would have ever thought he’d receive. what was he, an animal whisperer? he could barely communicate with people as it was, and now.. he was standing at the base of a great oak, lips flattened, with mild regret weighing on his conscience.

oh, the things he did for love.

“cloud, be careful! she’s shy around people!” you warned him a few feet away, gazing up at your feline companion — who clung helplessly to a worn down branch.

the blond had to wonder what on earth possessed your fuzzy friend to go into a tree and find the worst possible branch to lay on. it was completely absurd, and downright risky??

a sigh left his lips as he grabbed onto the protruding pieces of bark, shaking his head. “it can’t any worse than getting stabbed in the same place twice.” the former infantryman muttered, scaling the tree slowly, carefully.

cats were typically.. skittish. he remembered that much at least from the time he’d helped out wedge with finding his. therefore, the spiky haired male had to be slow with his advances and quiet, as they didn’t favor loud noises or sudden movements, either.

as cloud finally reached the level the cat was on, he shifted to sit on a sturdy branch, locking eyes with sora — your calico kitty.

distress was evident on her features as she let out a meow that sounded more or less like a cry for help, but the mercenary could tell she had been on guard, too.

“you’re doing great cloud!” you cheered from the ground, stepping closer in case your friend decided to jump down rather than accept your lover’s assistance. “almost there!”

his lips pursed together at the praise, cheeks tinting with pink as he lowered himself, almost hugging the bough he sat atop. “pspspspsps..” ugh, this is so embarrassing. “over here, sora.. gonna need you to inch closer.” he mumbled to the cat, outstretching his hand as far as it could go — which.. was just barely out of reach.

meaning, your feline friend would have to find it in herself to not only put her trust in him, but risk the wood snapping beneath her in an attempt at moving in on him.

a tough decision, indeed.

a frown ghosted the blond’s lips as he curled his fingers toward himself, a gesture to urge the cat to follow. “this is so stupid.. come on, please? y/n’s worried about you.” he pressed, scooting forward, only for the cat to scoot back. just.. great.

cloud let out a groan, nearly tossing his head back, but he didn’t want to risk scaring her. “they’re expecting me to save you, and you’re very important to them — which..” he grumbled, looking away. “means you’re important to me, too.. pay or not.”

something almost seemed to change in sora’s ivy orbs as she blinked up slowly at the other, considering his words — from what he could tell, at least.

you found difficulty in making out their conversation, or well, whatever cloud was trying to tell your cat. it seemed he wanted it kept between her and him.

despite the current situation, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh into your hand. and he said he wasn’t an animal whisperer.

feeling the tips of his ears redden at the intense stare he was given, the owner of strife delivery service let out a low exhale before reaching his hand out one last time. “come on, y/n has treats waiting for you and somewhere way more comfortable to hang out than.. whatever spot you found here.” he added awkwardly, closing his eyes to receive his rejection once more, only.. it never came.

a low crunching noise filled his ears and his sapphire-mako eyes shot open, finding that sora had shifted closer.. at the expense of the branch she held onto.

panic flooded cloud’s system as lunged forward for the multi-colored cat, stretching one hand out to retrieve her while the other grasped onto the limb he previously sat atop.

the gasp that entered his ears was expected, followed by the noise of surprise you’d let out when he safely caught sora.

when aquamarine met olive, cloud shook his head at the cat in his hands before bringing her close to his chest and allowing himself to drop. “you need to be more careful. you may have nine lives, but i don’t..”

a confused meow, as though the feline was feigning ignorance ( most likely ), had been the only response cloud earned in return for his doings as he felt her cheek nuzzle into his chest. were cats always this bipolar?

with the danger gone, you ran up to your boyfriend, panting in relief at the sight of your furry companion clinging him. “geez, — that nearly gave me a heart attack. you just had to wait till the last minute.. you’re lucky cloud was there!”

sora seemed to lower her ears into something akin to the wings of an airplane before she leaned into her savior more, purring quietly.

the action had you gasping, appalled and yet.. touched at the same time that she had taken a liking to your partner.. unless it was just her being defiant.

still, it made cloud blink, not used to being favored by animals as he sheepishly placed a gloved hand to pet her gently. “um.. maybe just stick to cat condos from now on..” he offered quietly when you peered over at him expectantly.

notes. cloud with kitties will never not be cute — i wish he picked up wedge’s cat like tifa did during the plate fall😭 but it’s fine, edits and art exists.. anyways, i hope you enjoyed anon<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) final fantasy vii fics.#cloud x you #cloud x reader #cloud x y/n #cloud strife x y/n #cloud strife x reader #ffvii #cloud strife x you #cloud strife #cloud strife imagine #ff7 #cloud ffvii #cloud ff7 #final fantasy vii x reader #final fantasy 7 x reader #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy cloud #cloud strife fluff

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

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Hello again 🙋🏻‍♀️! I couldn't stay away from your blog much longer, treating myself a full binge of your beautiful work on my evening off 😋.

So, I come with another meow meow Daemon thingy, where he's betrothed to a sharp Stark lady who's ruthless with him and he's like 😍; So he's geting "ahem" impatient at the wedding, losing control and trying to touch her. I'll leave the rest to you as I trust in this vivid imagination 😄.

Thanks for being the amazing creator you are, have a lovely day 💐

A Ring is Merely Jewelry and Marriage a Contract

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You had a lot to say to your father about his plans to marry you off to house Targaryen. And though you thought the prince was as appalled by the match as you are, something rewired his brain when he saw you. Direwolf against dragon anyone? Dare to place your bet on who wins?

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Misogyny, arranged/forced marriage, fem!reader, snarky!reader, annoying!Daemon, enemies to lovers(?), father's reader is sick and coughs every other moment, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THIS IN MY INBOX!!!!! '... couldn't stay away from your blog much longer' begs the question why were you staying away in the first place 🤨 I'm so glad you think im amazing <3 SLAY yuh. my heart goes boom but i have to admit, the prompt stumped me a bit. so hopefully you enjoy what I made. i enjoyed writing it myself Also, I don't know much about game of thrones lore so im just making stuff up as i go SKSKASKFA:SF I LOVE LONG HAIRED DAEMON GAAH LOOK AT HIM ALL PETTY AND PATHETIC WITH THAT DRAGON EGG Part 2 anyone "Fire & Havoc"

I slam my hands on the table, "I WILL NOT GO, FATHER!"

He is unfazed by the ruckus I cause and only proceeds to eat his breakfast.

"You told me I could choose whom I marry," I whine, "you swore it. I-"

"But that was before," he speaks plainly, offering me a mere look after.

I scoff, twice as wronged because I knew exactly what he meant. "Cregan!" I call to my older and only other sibling, "surely you do not-"

"This matter does not concern your brother," my father dismisses.

"Oh," I stand from my seat and glare at my father, "does it not" I scoff yet again, "when he will surely benefit from the marriage you are suggesting with that horrid prince-"

"Silence!" my father takes his turn slamming his hand on the table. For a moment, the two of us glare at each other. He continues after taking a deep breath, "you are to pack, leave your wolf and-"

"Leave my wolf?!"

"-to travel to King's Landing at once, with not a single complaint."

My jaw slacks in utter disbelief. My fists tighten in rage.

Cregan, who had been spectating silently the entire time, finally drops his fork and swallows the food in his mouth, "father, don't you think making her leave without Ha-"

"ENOUGH!"

Both Cregan and I stiffen at the echo of our father's voice. However, his body proceeds to rattle with an intense cough.

The anger in me fades into concern when his ragged barks do not cease. Before I could gather my skirts and go to him, he raises his hand and forces him breath to even, "enough."

Rickon looks back to me and the hollowness of his face is suddenly apparent, "I will not argue over this any further, daughter."

"But, fa-"

"You are a Stark," he sighs, "cunning, strong, and capable, but when I die, all that I have will pass to your brother," he leans against his chair, "and even though I know he would not abandon you, the fool will surely not remember you enough to keep you safe."

"But I don't need him to be safe, I-"

"The world will not allow it," he manages before choking into another cough.

As Cregan gives the old man a drink, I feel tears glass my eyes out of spite.

Rickon does not accept the cup upon seeing my expression.

"It is not fair," I mutter under a jagged breath.

He sighs, "if it were up to me, I would-"

"You cannot make me leave my wolf," I point accusingly, "you cannot make me go to him, as though I am a subservient entity with no mind and no desires."

My father speaks my name, but I am not having it.

"If you are so hellbent on me marrying that insolent younger Targaryen that you waste your dying wish on him," I seethe, anger leaving me in a form of bitter of tears, "then I will do as my Lord Stark commands," I offer a fake curtsy.

My father calls me again, another cough takes possession of him.

"But know this," I say as I straighten myself up, "if he dares lay a finger on me, I will slit his throat. And if he is a good enough warrior to survive my blade, then he will slit my throat for my treason," I move away from my seat, "and when my blood waters the earth, father, it will be because of your dying wish."

"ENOUGH!" Cregan demands, pointing at me angrily.

By the time my the coughs reverberating in the dining room dampens, I've already made my way out.

There was a part of me that regrets leaving home like that. But it was precisely Rickon Stark who imparted his great pride upon me. I could not even bring myself to look at him before I left, though Cregan bribed me with my own wolf to have me speak to our father.

She new I was leaving, Havoc. I nearly jumped out of my carriage when I heard her desperate howls. I found that my door was locked from the outside and the idea enraged me enough that I nearly broke the window open.

But then it dawned to me that it was pointless.

Even if I managed to get out of my prison, I would be shipped to King's Landing either way, only this time, I would have worn everyone's patience thinner.

You could only imagine the state of my own patience when I arrived at my horrid destination.

It was unbelievably sweltering and unimaginably cold all at once.

Him, tenfold, that Daemon Targaryen.

Not only did he place no efforts in welcoming me, it seems he ordered my chambers to be at the opposite of his, to make things more annoying and more difficult for everyone.

Fine.

It seems he did not want me, and I did not want him. We at least had something in common we could work on.

Today marked the 10th day of my stay in this wretched place. Each morn, I would seek audience with my betrothed and yet his handmaiden would curtsy to me and say, "the Prince is not here, my lady."

I chuckle dryly in disbelief and make an effort not to snap at the woman, for I knew she was not at fault, "and have you expressed my tenacity to seek audience with him. I-- Lady Stark, who has defeated my Lord suitors in combat, and would gladly attack him for less if he continues ignoring my existence-- seek his audience" I nod feverously, "have you expressed this to him?"

My words are visibly unsavory to her ears, "I have, your grace."

My face twitches as I avert my gaze away from the woman. But not even the sight of the blue sky halts the way my chest vibrates in annoyed laughter, "then he is more insolent than I could have ever hoped," I release a sharp shudder, "and I am to be wed to him in two days time."

I turn back to the perturbed maid, "what jovial news, don't you agree-- Bethany, was it?"

She nods her head as her face twists in fear.

I take deep breaths to calm myself and screw my eyes shut at the feel of sweat dripping down my nape because of the fucking climate of this wretched place.

I rub the back of my neck roughly as I open my eyes and force a smile, "then shall you lead me to the training grounds?"

"As you command," she shakes her head, "but I am sure the prince is not-"

"Not for him," I blurt, "for me."

Her brows knit, "... your grace, I-"

"And I do not mean the royal training grounds. It's utterly boring there. I mean the area where those Gold Cloaks train. Do you know what I speak of?"

Bethany quickly nods.

"Yes, that's the one. I am fucking sick of doing nothing all day, and so I might as well entertain myself before I end up killing someone."

I do not have enough patience to explain the light jest in my tone after hearing how roughly she gulps.

Bethany wordlessly escorts me to the training grounds, where I then see about a dozen men, sweaty and loud, as they spar and practice together.

I find myself releasing a sigh of relief at the sight before me, and promptly dismiss Bethany with a nod.

The moment she goes on her way, however, I call out to her, remembering my own poor handmaiden, "might I ask one last favor before you leave?"

Bethany nods, "of course, my lady."

"Please inform Belidea of my whereabouts. She is a terrible worry wart and I cannot stand the sound of her high pitched nags."

"Of course, my lady," she repeats more urgently.

I nod, "very good. You have my thanks."

Once she is gone, I make my way to the training grounds, and my mere presence commands the attention of the soldiers.

"My lady," a man with brown hair and a long beard nods, walking over to me with his golden cloak swaying behind him.

I nod back at him, "who is the commander of this training session?"

"That would be me, my lady."

I smile at him and introduce myself, "you are welcome to call me simply by my name."

"I do not wish to offend Prince Daemon," he says, then adding, "Ser Phineas, at your service, Lady Stark."

"A pleasure," I say, "though I must correct you in your belief that your beloved prince even knows of my existence."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head, "his head is heavy with thoughts of your marriage."

I snort, "you don't say? You are acquainted with his insolence well then?"

Phineas lets out an uncomfortable cough, My lips curve at it.

"I would not myself assume to be well-acquainted with our prince at all."

"Hmm," I cross my arms, "very well then, ser Phineas. I wonder then if you would allow me the warm regard your dragon born did not when I arrived to King's Landing."

The man bows in response.

"I would like to spar with your finest swordsman."

He lifts his face to me.

"I am terribly bored and quite frankly annoyed by the continuous absence of my beloved," I suck in a deep breath, "and so I should like to relieve my stress rather than allow it to fester within me."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, square shoulders relaxing, "Ah. I would gladly instruct the lady in the art of-"

I raise a finger at him, "I did not ask to be taught," I cut him off, "and if it is you who you believe to the best amongst your peers, then I shall warn you not to twist my words and delude yourself to be better than I, simply because you are a man."

I see how his expression shifts at my words. Phineas sucks in a a breath from his nostrils, "Lady Stark, I do not wish to harm you, nor do I think it would be wise for you to rile up the prince, if that is-"

"Bold of you to think you could harm me, first of all," I say walking off to the circle him, "second of all, if you bring up the prince again, I will rip your cloak off and use it as a towel," I rub my forehead, "the heat of this place is unbearable."

"It must be polar opposite to the frost up North," he says, turning to me when I make it back in front of him.

"It is," I state, "now. Will you let me spar, or will I have to provoke you even more?"

He is unable to control the curl of amusement from his lips.

The whole training ground clears and crowds around us as we make it its center. Phineas turns to his brothers-at-arms and then back to me as he twists his sword in his hands for show, "I will go-"

"Easy on me?" I roll my eyes and finish for him, stabbing my sword on the ground before me so that I can stretch, "I would advise you otherwise, since I am as adept with the blade in a skirt, as I am without." I roll my shoulder back as I smirk, "it would hurt your fragile ego too much if you should lose to me too quickly."

The crowd mumbles at my haughty remark.

Phineas chuckles but shows no trace of annoyance or anger.

I smile at his composure and pull my sword up, pointing it to him, "enough chat."

"MY LADY, NO!" the frantic voice of my handmaiden calls out. All eyes turn to her as she makes her way through the crowd and makes herself visible to me.

"Belidea," I call, "just in time for the show."

"Please," she catches her breath, adding lowly, "do not make a spectacle of yourself."

I roll my eyes, "then would you like to spar with him?"

Belidea only continues to heave as I offer her the weapon in my hand.

I raise a brow at her and go back to my stance, "then be still and silent."

Phineas readies himself, "you can still-" but the sound of my steel crashing against his effectively shut him up.

It seems, finally, after all this time, I have finally merited the attention of the prince.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Daemon barks, beholding his beloved Gold Cloaks, worn out, battered and beaten, with several injured.

Having taken a moment to drink some water, I see the long silver hair on his back and find my brows raising at the sight of it.

The man I was drinking with, Elias, chokes on his water and wipes his lips quickly with his wrist. He leans and mutters to me, "that's the prince, my lady."

"Yes," I shift on my leg, "it is obvious, it is not?"

Faced with frantic faces, Daemon is still with rage at the lack of answers.

"Betrothed," I call from behind him the moment I am near. With my hair wild out of its original hairstyle, and my skirt ripped short out of my own rage towards it, I curtsy at him with my hands behind my back.

My eyes do not leave the Targaryen's face as he examines the cuts on my arm and thighs. There was blood on my clothes that was indistinguishable if it were mine or not, but there was a sure darkness behind my eyes. I rise when I speak, "it is a wonder to finally meet you face to face."

Belidea, who was quick to run to my side, shrinks as not to meet the prince's gaze. She quickly makes an effort to wrap the golden cloak I took as my prize to mask my indecency, but I merely push the cloak of me.

"Were you captured?" he quickly interrogates, as if he is concerned.

I scoff and roll my eyes, "as your men are ashamed to admit," I turn to Phineas, who was missing his cloak, "I amused myself by winning all the matches against them."

The man shifts to face me, grabbing the fabric of what used to be part of my sleeve, "and this looks like winning to you?"

I rip the fabric off me using I had in my palms and step forward, motioning to the side, "does that?"

He bares his profile to me as he examines his battered men. A curve forms on his lips and it makes my eyes narrow in anger.

"All of you morons lost to the lady?" he calls loudly, ending his words with a chuckle.

I fidget with the dagger in my hand.

Upon catching this, Phineas places a hand on my arm. I turn to him with a dirty look that immediately makes him withdraw.

"Is it so hard to believe, Prince Daemon?"

Daemon turns back to me, eyes bright, matching his grin, "no, I am impressed."

I scoff, "because you do not believe my might."

He steps closer to me, eyes flickering to the dagger I was still playing with, "perhaps you would grace me with a demonstration-"

"Go fuck yourself," I blurt, throwing the dagger off to the side before storming off.

And as shocked as he was, Daemon was more so excited than anything.

It seems he was so moved by my performance that he finally came to me instead of the other way around. He, however, lacked the decency I had and came to me in the darkness of night.

It took everything in my not to ram into him and strike him with the comb I was using when he rudely walked in my chambers. I controlled myself for the sake of the poor servants that would behold my massacre.

"What do you want?" I blurt, eyeing him from my vanity.

Daemon, who was in his own sleeping attire it seems, smiles softly as he places his hands behind his back, "my lady wife has been seeking my audience."

I slam my comb on my vanity and cause my maids to gasp. I march in front of the seemingly further amused prince and clench my jaw at the sight of him, "the mere fact you are referring to me as your wife tells me that I should not seek your audience at all."

He chuckles at my words, linking his hands in front of him. Daemon hums, "I see. You do not wish to wed me."

I scoff, "and a few hours ago, you shared the same sentiment." I tilt my head up at him in annoyance, but it seems the sight of the blood on my clothes has made you change your fickle mind."

He chuckles more loudly this time, "that was because I was fed lies about marrying an obedient wife that wanted nothing but to sire me strong heirs with the will of Starks and Targaryens."

"And what pig shat out that crap?"

"That would be the lords of the council," he smiles, "but clearly they have not met you."

I lick my teeth at his expression, "do not act so pleased, as though you have won me over."

"Worry not, my dear, the dragon in me so burns at the challenge."

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him, "do not speak to me of your dragon," I step away from him, "it does not entice me."

I catch sight of my servants as Daemon laughs. I promptly dismiss them as the prince makes his way to my bed and sits on the side, "ah yes. I was wondering why I had yet to behold your famous direwolves."

I cross my arms as he presses his lips into a pleased smile, "would they not fare well in this weather? Is that why you did not bring yours?"

"Are you quite comfortable, my prince?"

His shoulders shake in amusement, "I am."

"Then do not be surprised if you do not make it out of here alive," I say as I stalk towards him.

Daemon give me a lopsided smirk, "they did not allow you any weapons, as your brother warned."

"A comb would be a good weapon as any," I blurt, grabbing the said object from my vanity and pointing it to him as I stand before him.

I am surprised that he does not laugh at my words. He is wise not to anger me any further.

"You must admit it is better that you and I end up with each other."

"And why would I ever admit that," I whisper through grit teeth.

"Because you and I are the same," he says, standing.

"We are not the same."

Daemon turns to the comb still pointed at him as he walks closer, "I too would make a weapon out of anything I could get my hands on."

I lean towards him, dropping my comb, to grab his collar, "that does not make us the same."

He releases a hot breath that hits my face. As I glare at him, his hands land on my sides, making me jolt. I promptly shove him off when I feel his unwelcome touch, "fuck off."

He reels back, but does not fall on my bed. I gaze upon him with anger and wrap my arms around myself, annoyed by the goosebumps that form on my skin.

"If you shall call to me again, I will hastily answer."

I grunt, "Fuck. Off."

He offers me one last chuckle as he nods, "I look forward to our wedding."

I do not.

The hour comes swiftly despite this.

We were now in the dining hall on either side of the king. The two brothers were making merry, yet I was making no effort to hide my distaste.

"I heard that you made a spectacle of the Gold Cloaks, sister," Queen Aemma spoke, making me turn to her as she caressed the bump of her belly.

I looked at her smile and pitied how she was reduced to nothing but a baby maker.

"Uncle went from denying your existence to praising the very ground you walked on," Rhaenyra adds, mischief written all over her face. Her mother to scolds her, to which she responds, "what, it's true?"

"I so would like to know how good you are with blades. It is not everyday that we hear of a woman warrior," King Viserys chuckles, and it makes me snap.

"Well it is not everyday that a father allows his daughter to practice her strength," I coldly remark, turning from him to Rhaenyra, "I heard you dissuade the princess from going on dragonback though it is in her very nature to be drawn to it."

Daemon chuckles as his older brother goes quiet.

I catch sight of my impeding doom's amusement, and turn away from him. That very moment, the dining hall's doors open and I find myself shooting up from my seat.

No matter ho much of a solid fortress I convinced myself to, the moment I saw my brother walk in with my father being carried by two of our men in a litter, I was crumbling at the very seams.

I feel the Targaryens burn their eyes on me but I do not care.

The moment my family is before me, I clench my jaw.

"My King, My Queen, My Prince, My Princess," Cregan smiles between the royal faces then turns to me, "dear sister."

"Lord Rickon," Viserys greets, "Lord Cregan."

"I hope you have taken kindly to my daughter, Prince Daemon," my father mutters with a strained voice.

I do not tear my gaze from my father, whose illness was clearly getting the better of him.

"She was surely the pride of your house," Daemon says, "and now she will be the pride of mine."

The old fool nods at the prince's words, and I feel bitterness coat my tongue. My father seemingly wanted to say something, but his cough decides he won't before he can even open his mouth.

Cregan takes it as a cue to take him away. He gives me a look, "father wished to tell you that you are the perfect bride."

I watch as they make their way to their spot.

I cannot bring myself to move an inch from where I was standing as tears coat my cheeks. It was all a betrayal. It was all so much colder than the Northern snow I find myself yearning for. How could they allow this to happen to me? How could my-

"Go to him."

I turn to my side, finding Daemon's face as he repeats, "go to him."

Before I know it, I am standing behind my father who had just caught his breath from the coughs he started.

Cregan calls my name once he notices me, and this causes Rickon to turn over his shoulder and make me grind my teeth.

"You fool," I mutter bitterly, "you old, fucking fool."

Cregan places a hand on me. My father calls my name, and it brings me to my knees. I grab onto his cold and thin arm, thinking how it felt nothing like the hand that guided me in my youth.

"Do not waste your tears on this old, fucking fool, daughter."

I look up to him and see tears on his face. I shake my head, "papa," I whine, "don't do this to me. You can still take back your word."

"Sister, that is enough," Cregan hushes.

Rickon places his other hand on my head and sighs, "he does not deserve you," he inhales, "that much I agree."

"Then make this right! Release me-"

"So make him deserve you," he catches my chin, "make him as loyal as your wolf," he coughs twice, "or feed him to Havoc yourself."

Our father rattles out into another fit out coughs.

Cregan pulls me to my feet and sighs. He pulls me to the side yet the sound of coughing does not fade. "He has only worsened since you've gone."

I suck in a breath and will my tears away.

"I pray you release your grudges, before it's too late."

I scoff, "easy for you to say when everything is easy for you, brother," I push his hand off me, "you are the heir, you are in charge."

He calls my name in frustration, "you know damn well that is not what I meant."

"Worry not," I scoff in annoyance, "I will do as our father instructs," I turn to the said man, "as always. I will make him as loyal as Havoc," I gulp, turning to the prince who was already looking at me, "or feed him to her myself."

Cregan watches as I storm all the way back to my seat.

The rest of the events are a blur, the toast, the ceremony, the merrymaking I was clearly not a part of.

But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I could now feel Havoc's warmth against me. She had nearly tackled me to the ground when we were reunited. She felt my heartache and whined with me as I emptied my sorrows on her fur.

Though she spoke no words to me, she provided the best comfort I could ever ask for. Havoc and I have been bonded ever since she was born. She knew nothing but me and I knew nothing but her.

And so when she began to snarl, I felt her protectiveness in my bones.

I turn to the direction of her anger and see my husband still in his spot.

"You are wise not to tread any nearer," I mutter to him as I stand to my feet. Havoc stands beside me. I command her to stand down and lie on her belly. She is reluctant but obedient.

Daemon places his hands behind his back, "I hope you know that it was a mistake for them to bring her to the dragon pit."

"I am not a fool, I would not bring Havoc anywhere near your-"

"I will introduce Caraxes to her slowly," he cuts me off, "though I confess, I do not know how he would react."

I tilt my head to him and measure his words, "and why would you do that?"

"Because she belongs to wife," he spokes as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

When he stretches his hand out to me, Havoc reacts with another snarl.

"Enough, Havoc," I command her, placing a hand on her snout, making her soften her warning sounds.

"Would you introduce me to her?" the prince asks, hand reaching out to me.

I feel a pit in my stomach. There a loud voice was screaming loudly in disagreement, screaming to allow Havoc her carnal desire. Yet the voice of my father rings in my mind, 'make him loyal'. At the same time, the feeling of Daemon's gentle touch as he kissed me after our vows plays in my head.

I turn to Havoc, back to Daemon, and step once so I could reach the prince's palm. Once I have him in my grip, Havoc begins to snarl loudly again. I scold her and pull Daemon behind me. I ignore the way my stomach drops when his other hand rests on my waist. Though the touch is uninvited, I do not fight him off for the sake of keeping Havoc calm.

I place my hand atop Daemon's and link my fingers in his then place his palm on my wolf's large, furry head.

Havoc does not appreciate it, I can feel it. And yet, she does nothing but snarl as she feels Daemon's hand on her.

"He is my husband, sweet girl," I hush her, placing my other hand on her back, "you will not eat him."

Daemon chuckles, then presses closer behind me. I feel my body ignite when his chest meets my back.

He proceeds to speak in another tongue, and to my surprise, Havoc tilts her head at him and dampens her threats.

"How did you do that?" I mutter, turning to him as well.

Our faces nearly touch when I do, and I make sure not to start, lest I trigger the direwolf.

"My blood runs with magic she recognizes," Daemon mutters, violet eyes peering down at me. My breath hitches when his hand brushes to my belly, "I do not doubt Caraxes will recognize the same in yours."

I turn away from him and pull my hand out of his. I then push him away just as Havoc finally ceases her growls altogether and begins to pant.

I release a sigh and turn to my beloved wolf, "good girl," I praise, grabbing her large face.

Daemon chuckles behind me, "you treat her like she is merely an overgrown pup."

"Well, she is," I say, turning over, finding the prince's soft expression, "and yours is an overgrown lizard."

He tilts his head, "I have not met a lizard who breathes fire."

"I wonder why you look any further," I pull away from Havoc to look at the vast chamber, "so, tell me. If not here, where then shall I keep her?"

He shifts on his legs, "your chambers would be large enough, would it not?"

I narrow my brows, "my chambers?"

He chuckles, "well I cannot force it to be our chambers in the face of your beast now, can I?"

I scoff at this and whistle, making Havoc stand.

Daemon does not break eye contact with me as I walk over to him. I move past him though and beckon my wolf to follow, "I appreciate your candor, prince husband. Perhaps I shall not commit treason after all."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon fluff #daemon x stark!reader #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic

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missuswalker · 1 year

Note

DUDE ALL OF UR WRITINGS ARE SO GOOD u literally make Stan sound like a loser AND HE IS!!!! AND I EAT IT UP ITS SO FUNNY AGAIAHJAHQIA THE JUMPSCARE TOO😭😭😭

Could I req hcs of Stan (the slimy. The STINK.) and Kyle (I feel like he always has a prominent forehead vein from all the rage he has in his body) separate with some mutual pining w a f!reader that’s suuuuuper flirty n zesty w her friends like saying some out of pocket goofy shit like barking n meowing or “I’m hard” or like “I need u carnally.” LOL but also gets easily flustered when flirted back with??? I will kiss the ground u walk upon btw (thank you sm I’m literally up at 3:37 giggling thinking of when u post a response to this)

i'm in love with you for this YOU GUYS THINK UP THE GOOD SHIT

stan and kyle with a flirty reader

✮ summary: stan and kyle crushing on a flirty reader (who gets flustered when flirted back with)

✮ warnings: sexual jokes LMAO

kyle broflovski

i can't imagine him getting all "omg i- i- i- i- 😱😱" over it

like thats not happening

his face will get red, yes

but he's not gonna get super flustered over it

he'll be like "🫥😧" and side eye the hell out of you

it's funny to him sometimes, but also, if he's already pissed off, it's just annoying

"damn, tryna take it to the temple? 😏" "y/n, shut the fuck up."

but that only encourages you to do it more

but it makes him think he's not special since you flirt with your friends, too

"bebe, you can be my baybay if you know what i mean 😏😏 just call me mommy 😁"

and then gets upset and hopes you come flirt with him

the first time he flirted back, it was like you shut down

"why ask for my number when you can just call me a good girl" "i bet you'd like that wouldn't you"

IT WOULD SIMPLY BE THAT, NOT EVEN THAT INTENSE

you'd almost start doing the butters foot kick thing like in the episode where he had to partner up with cartman

"what 😁 huh 🥰 say that again? 😊"

he'd think it was so funny

his rizz isn't bad either so it's even worse

would pull the "you don't have anything to say, huh"

he'd start calling you petnames to make it worse

"come sit over here, babe"

just shit like that

realizes he's the only one you get super flustered over, so he makes his move

after a couple more days of torturing you

his ego just expands

thinks he's the shit

pulls out the black tshirt

stan marsh

oh my god he literally is a loser

"hey stan-ley, wanna give me that stan-d?" "woah."

brags about it

"y/n said she'd gobble me up yesterday 😏" "dude, what the flip" "kenny, you just don't get it."

but when he's around you he says the stupidest shit

"looking good, marshy poo" "oh, thanks 😰😁"

when he flirts back, it's all mid

"nice shirt, stanley" "nice face, y/n"

but when it still flusters you, he's like "yeah, she likes me"

"would you be interested in going out with me 🤓"

and then would be all like "uhhh i mean, uh, would you, let's go on a date"

thought he ate the girls up

standing there like "😏"

"yeah, sure"

AND IS SHOCKED

pretends he's not shocked

"oh, sweet 🥱" "like this pussy" "😦"

a/n: i love this so much

not proofread because im lazy (sexy facial expression)

#south park #x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle brovlofski #south park x reader headcanons #south park x reader #stan marsh headcanons #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #kyle broflovski headcanons

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bubuslutty · 1 year

Text

Day 4: baked salmon

this is part 4, all parts

pairing: demon/angel!fem reader x 141

word count: 2.3k

tags: no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warnings: none

summary: Angel accidently falls asleep under the sun and gets saved by a knight in shining armor, or an angel, it's the same thing in her head, both glowing and glorious. + imagine getting cockblocked by potatoes 🧍‍♀️

a/n: I know the chapters are called day 2, day 3, ect but it doesn't necessarily mean they happen one right after the other, it's just days of her interacting with the boys.

Two days in the office as a sex therapist wasn't too bad. Angel actually likes working with clients because she gets to see humans and how they react to their environment and relationships, with others and themselves. Of course, she had to do a bit of homework and study to be qualified, but it’s nothing a couple of days of intense learning and superhuman intelligence couldn’t fix. All she had was to tap into her powers and suddenly, she knew everything she had to know.

How convenient it was to be an angel, or a demon in her case.

Angel’s usual wish assignments are more often than not related to earthly desires such as money, fame and lust, maybe love too, but she always had to realise wishes that were considered a sin in many religions. Greed, gluttony, lust. She has worked with all of them. And whether those wishes were good or evil, it doesn’t matter to her, because fate takes care of that, her job is to realise the wish and nothing else.

By human standards, she would definitely be considered a demon, a succubus even, especially now.

“I should get a tattoo…” Angel mumbled, lounging on her messy bed, laptop on her stomach, looking at images of succubus womb tattoos. Kuromi meowed, removing the woman’s attention from her laptop’s screen.

“Hm?” Angel hummed, looking at her cat, standing by her bedroom door. Kuromi meowed again, making Angel gasp, “Yes! You’re so right!”

The woman immediately closed her laptop and ran to her phone, checking the weather. It looked like today was going to be hot and nice, even though it was cold as shit the day before.

That’s typical British weather for you.

“You’re so smart, Kuromi.” Angel said and sent a flying kiss to the cat, who lifted her tail and walked out, completely unbothered. Angel opened one of her drawers that had multiple bikinis and swimsuits. She started getting naked on the spot, excited to change and go downstairs to sunbathe in her garden. When she changed into one of her bikini sets, she dug for one of her hats and got a random green bucket hat for the sun, shades and a bottle of suncream.

If there’s one thing she’ll never forget while being in this realm, is that the sun is unforgiving and harsh, unless you want to look like a baked salmon or get skin cancer, you have to protect yourself.

Angel hummed while walking down her stairs, going straight for the fridge and getting herself a small water bottle and a Coke in case she got thirsty, and then a random magazine that was left on her counter, a Bluetooth speaker and a yoga mat.

She happily started getting settled in the middle of her garden, where there was no shade. Angel could hear some of her neighbours hanging out in their gardens too, low music, people chatting, children giggling and dogs barking and elderly people complaining about the noise. She sat on her yoga mat and started rubbing sun cream all over her skin, making sure to not miss a spot, and struggled to get her back but ended up giving up, “I’ll do it later when I turn around…” She grumbled.

After setting up her music and lowering the volume, she laid down on her back, sunglasses and bucket hat on. Angel took a deep breath, loving the heat of the sun and closed her eyes.

“I’ll do it later when I turn around…” She, in fact, did not turn around.

Angel ended up falling asleep with her mouth open, right under the sun, in the process of baking. However, earlier, the sky was not the only thing that witnessed her stupidity in real-time.

Her very sexy neighbours all decided to hang out outside, to enjoy the sun like normal people when they saw her asleep in the middle of her garden. John came out in shorts and sandals, wearing his very stylish bucket hat and sunglasses, a book in hand when he saw her. Of course, he saw her, they literally had the shittiest, lowest fence ever, and it practically gave no one much privacy. But it’s not like they're going to complain when they get to see her looking like that.

“Steaming Jesus…” Johnny said, lowering his sunglasses so he can get a better look.

“What sort of shitty cliché film are we in?” Gaz laughed in disbelief. Not only did they have a nice house (minus the shitty garden fence), but a very hot, very friendly, smart and funny neighbour.

“Are you complaining?” Soap asked the man.

“Me? Hell no, that’s one beautiful woman.” Gaz said with a nod.

“Stop staring, you creeps.” Ghost came up from behind them and grabbed both of their necks, lowering their heads. Both Soap and Gaz whined at their superior, turning around and sitting in their garden lounge chairs, doing their own thing.

John already had his nose buried in his book while Ghost closed his eyes and covered his face with a cap. Gaz was playing music through a Bluetooth speaker and was knitting at the same time, humming to the lyrics of whatever song was playing, and Soap was doodling in a sketchbook, bopping his head to Gaz’s music.

20 minutes passed peacefully until John closed his book and checked his watch. His change in demeanour was immediately noticed by his men, even Ghost lifted the cap and peeked at his captain with one eye. “It’s been 20 minutes and she hasn’t moved an inch, how long has she been sleeping there for?” He said with a frown.

“That woman is literally going to bake under the sun,” Gaz said, looking at Soap.

“She will if we dinnae wake ‘er up.” Soap agreed.

“Why do you even care?” Ghost asked, surprising Price.

“Because we’re not shite neighbours, Simon.” Soap said in that annoying voice he thinks drives Ghost up the wall, but Ghost secretly thinks it’s cute.

“Yeah, don’t be a dickhead, Simon,” Gaz said, batting his eyelashes at the soldier, hiding his annoying grin behind the scarf he was knitting.

“Enough, go wake her up, Gaz.” John said, and Gaz placed his unfinished scarf in his chair and walked up to the fence, and cleared his throat loudly.

Angel didn’t move an inch and he turned around, to look at the others.

“Call ‘er name!” Soap whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Ghost side-eyed Soap, who absolutely ignored him.

“Angel, wake up, please?” Gaz tried again, squinting his eyes to try to see if her chest was moving up and down. Call him paranoid but she wasn’t moving, and he couldn’t for the life of him see if she was breathing or not from his position.

Gaz immediately jumped over the fence and rushed to her side and placed two fingers on her pulse, at the side of her neck. Soap, Ghost and Price were all up now, standing next to the fence, and all sighed in relief when Gaz turned around and gave them a thumbs-up.

Gaz scanned her lax face and decided to lift her head with one hand and used the other to gently tap one of her cheeks, “Angel, wake up.”

Angel woke up with a gasp as if she was holding her breath the whole time, maybe she was, who knows, her body can do freaky stuff when it forgets it's wearing the skin of a human. When she opened her eyes, Angel was so confused, was she in heaven?? Because what the shit, this is a real angel right there.

“What time is it?” She groggily said, her hand going up by itself to cup Gaz’s cheek.

“Half past one. You were knocked out and we got worried you’d bake under the sun.” Gaz said with a chuckle, and reality finally hit her. Angel abruptly sat up and Gaz grabbed both of her shoulders, “Hey, slow down.”

“Water, Gaz.” Price reminded the man and Gaz immediately grabbed the now warm water bottle next to her, unscrewed the cap and poured a bit in his palm and patted her hot cheeks.

“Oh, that feels good.” Angel moaned, not realising how hot she truly was.

“That was dangerous, you know that right? Sleeping under the sun with no shade.” Gaz said, wiping his wet hand on his naked chest.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” Angel sheepishly said, glancing at the other three men looking at her.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, and thank you for waking me up, Gaz.” Angel said, placing a hand on his, which was on her yoga mat, next to her thigh. Gaz’s eyes widened, looking at her hand on his and looked back up again. She was smiling at him, and his heartbeat sped up. Gaz could feel his guys looking at him, at them, but he couldn’t look away from her eyes and lips. Especially her lips.

“You don’t, uh” he choked out then cleared his throat, “You don’t have to apologise…”

“Okay.” Angel whispered, those big beautiful eyes staring at him like he was the sun and the sky, and Gaz felt like he was going to fucking die.

“Who fancies a barbeque? I feel like grilling, today.” Price spoke, breaking the spell. Gaz retrieved his hand and stood up, stretching his arms behind his head, trying to hide his flustered state.

“Oh yeah!” Soap grinned.

“That sounds really nice, enjoy your barbeque, guys.” Angel said, collecting her phone and Bluetooth to get inside, she had enough sun for today. Maybe she’ll watch a show on her laptop, or read a book.

“Where are you going?” Price frowned, stopping her in her tracks, all of her stuff clutched in her arms.

“What?”

“You’re invited, Angel.” Price said.

“Am I?”

“Of course, lass! What type of neighbours would we be if we didnae invite our favourite neighbour?” Soap said with a huge grin.

“Soap, I’m the only neighbour you’ve spoken to since moving in.” Angel deadpanned and Soap shrugged with his arms crossed, the dog tags glinting over his hairy chest under the sun.

“I’ll go get the grill ready.” Ghost said, walking towards their shed.

“Hi, Ghost!” Angel quickly greeted him.

“Hi, Angel.” He replied, without looking back.

Gaz slowly walked up to the fence, “I’ll go prep the meat.” he mumbled and jumped over, glad to escape her hypnotising eyes and lips.

“Wait, I don’t know what to bring!” Angel’s smile fell when she realised she has never been invited to a barbeque before and has no idea what to bring, she has seen humans having barbeques but she doesn’t know what they would like her to bring.

“You don’t have to bring anything, honey.” Angel was now right in front of her fence, knees touching the scratchy wood and watching Price move the chairs around to make space for the grill.

“Uhm, Soap! Please come over and get stuff you guys don’t have.” Angel quickly said and grabbed for the man’s arm as if he’d run away. She really didn’t want to be rude and not bring anything to the barbeque, and she knows that Soap loves food and knows so much more about cooking than she does.

This is absolutely pathetic for someone with her powers, but she never claimed to be perfect, has she?

And how could Soap ever say no to that face?

“Of course, hun.” Soap grinned and jumped over the fence, taking the water bottle and unopened can of Coke away from her. “And these are going in the trash.” He said, walking inside her house and straight to the kitchen as if he always lived there.

“For how long are they supposed to boil?” Angel asked, frowning down at a pot with boiling water and whole potatoes.

“Leave the potatoes alone and come chop the chives.” Soap said, glancing up at the woman with amusement. Angel was still wearing her bikini and her cute green bucket hat, standing there in the kitchen with him.

Angel sighed and stood next to Johnny, grabbing the knife and starting to chop the chives. Soap watched the woman try to chop the chives and get frustrated that it was hard even though the chives were thin and small. Soap had to admit, she might be PhD smart and hot as fuck but she was actually useless with a knife.

Soap sighs, standing behind her and grabbing the knife away from her hand. “Watch, that’s how you do it.” He said and she nodded, watching him hold the chives with one hand and chop them with the other with ease. “See? Easy peasy, now try again.”

Angel grabbed the knife and tried again, and she was instantly better, a bit slow but better than her mediocre previous tries. “How long does potato salad take to make?” Angel looked over her shoulder and asked, looking at Soap, who was still standing behind her.

“Like half an hour? The only long parts are boiling the potatoes and chilling the salad.” Soap said, making her nod and turn back to chopping her chives.

“Do you have someone, lass?” Soap suddenly asked, making her look up from her chives and stare at the cupboard in front of her.

“Am I dating someone?” She repeated.

“Aye.”

Angel noticed the change in Soap’s usual friendly and teasing tone, and placed her knife down on the chopping board, and slowly turned around.

“No, why?” Angel raised a brow and Soap kept looking at her with an unreadable expression.

“Just got a lad wondering.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his glorious naked and tan chest.

“Just a lad wondering…” Angel hummed, touching his dog tags with one hand, “Are you dating someone?”

“No, why?” Soap slowly grinned and took a step forward.

“Just got a lass wondering.” Angel grinned back, pulling him forward by his dog tags.

A loud hiss startled the two of them and Angel panicked, “The potatoes!”

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear

#cod mw2 #captain john price #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 ghost #captain price #call of duty #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #price x reader #john price #bubuslutty writes

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infinite-riches · 9 months

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TactiCAT

Summary: “LT…” Soap pulled his best puppy-dog eyes as he looked up at Ghost, the tiniest kitten he had ever laid eyes on cupped in his hands. As if perfectly timed, the kitten let out the sweetest meow either man had ever heard. “We cannae leave her here..”

“Johnny…” Ghost gave a defeated sigh, lowering his weapon as he looked at the kitten. She perfectly resembled Johnny. A tiny, fluffy, brown tabby, the fur on her head groomed into a mohawk. “Price will kill us if we take her home…”

Or: The boys find a kitten and fluff ensues

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word Count: 1791

Warnings: cannon typical violence (no gore)

A/N: This lovely one-shot was inspired by a prompt from a member of the CoD babygirls server, much love to her!! <3

And as always feel free to leave feedback/constructive criticism <3

AO3 Link (if you prefer): TactiCAT

“Johnny? Sit-rep?” Ghost was in the next room over, downloading any data he could scrape off the security system.

“All cl-” The sound of rustling stopped Soap in his tracks. “Got movement…”

Soap slowly approached, MK14 raised and held tight to his shoulder. His eyes rapidly scanned the dark corner of the room, looking for the cause of the rustling. It wasn’t until there was the soft sound of scratching that he leaned down, lifting a folded newspaper off the ground.

Soap could hear the featherlight sound of Ghost’s footsteps behind him as the smallest, sweetest pair of blue eyes stared up at him, a tiny squeak filling the silence. Soap slung his rifle over his shoulder, crouching down. He gently held his fingers out, the small fuzzball taking a few steps forward, sniffing his fingers before nuzzling them. With a little persuasion, the kitten climbed into his hand, claws pressing in a little to gain purchase on Soap’s calloused hand.

“LT…” Soap pulled his best puppy-dog eyes as he looked up at Ghost, the tiniest kitten he had ever laid eyes on cupped in his hands. As if perfectly timed, the kitten let out the sweetest meow either man had ever heard. “We cannae leave her here..”

“Okay… and?” It was another moment of Johnny being a total smart-ass. “I’ll hide her in my vest, you can pretend you know nothin’… please, Si?”

“Only because I love you and you’re going to do night patrol with me for the next 2 weeks. Plus you’re solely responsible for her. Understood?” Ghost couldn’t help himself, the two were a perfect pair, matching mohawks and sparkling blue eyes- so much warmth and joy radiating from the pair already.

“Aye, of course! Whatever you want!” Soap placed a gentle kiss on the kitten’s head before speaking to her, “Okay Spike, we’ve gotta get out of here so I’m gonna tuck you in my mag pouch… gonna take good care of you…”

With a gentleness Ghost had only seen used with himself or Soap’s nieces and nephews, Soap tucked the small fuzzball into one of his mag pouches, Spike’s adorable head poking out to take in the view from such great heights.

The computer from the other room chirped, signaling the drive had finished downloading the data.

“Time to exfil, Soap. Make sure you keep Spike safe.”

“Yes, Sir!” Soap called out, a giddy grin on his face as he followed his LT out of the room.

On the way out of the building, Soap kept close watch on the pouch that Spike was tucked in, a sense of relief flooding his veins every time he heard a small meow or chirp from the kitten.

They had one long corridor, dotted with doorways, between them and the hike out to exfil when a bullet whizzed past Soap’s ear, nearly nicking his helmet.

“Get down!” Soap barked, pulling his body back behind the wall, chest heaving. “You got eyes?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” Ghost was leaning around the wall, trying to catch any glimpse of movement he could. Time ticked by achingly slow as both men listened for footsteps and Ghost watched for the slightest misstep.

“Gonna throw flash, cover my six. We’ll push in hard and fast- can’t be many of ‘em if they aren't already pushing us…”

“Aye, on you, LT…” Soap gave a firm nod, hand dropping for only a second to gently push Spike down into the pouch, securing the velcro closure over her head. “Gonna get you out of here, lass…”

It was a flurry of light, sound, and motion down the hallway. But then, one shot, two shots, and a third. Ghost’s M4 didn’t make a dent in the Russian armor. They took cover, pinned down by a swarm of lead.

“You’re up,” Ghost said. Soap nodded. Soap and Spike swung around the corner, MK14 leveled. One shot, two shots, and a third. Then… silence.

“7.62 black tip doesn’t fuck around, Si.”

“Solid?” Ghost cast his glance back at Johnny, doing a quick visual check on his partner.

“All good, LT. You broken?” Soap is all teeth as he looks over his Ghost, hand absentmindedly petting at Spike through the gap in the pouch.

“I’m solid, let’s get the hell out of here so we can get this drive to Price.”

It was an arduous hike but not the worst by far. The last strength of summer meant the air was warm but not suffocating, a gentle breeze pushing through the pines as they picked their way out of the valley.

The sound of the chopper blades seemed to upset Spike, soft mewls of protest sounding from Soap’s vest.

“You’re on your own, Johnny…” Ghost warned as they pushed into the clearing, Price visible in the helo.

“Shh, shh, shh, Spike… if you’re quiet I’ll give you one of the LT’s hoodies to sleep in… you won’t believe how soft it is…” By some stroke of luck, the kitten seemed to be pleased with the trade offer, instantly settling down as they approached Price.

“It’s all yours, Captain,” Ghost called out, handing the drive over and settling in for the flight back to base.

“You boys broken?” Price tucked the drive away as Soap climbed aboard, Nik lifting the helo off the ground moments later.

“We’re all good, Sir. Just another day at the office…” Soap settled next to Ghost, trying his best to fight the sleep tugging at his eyelids.

20 minutes into the flight, as Soap leaned on Ghost deep in sleep, Soap’s mag pouch began to move. Neither Price nor Ghost noticed till the small kitten had popped its head out of the pouch, nuzzling into Soap’s chest before also falling asleep, a gentle thrum of purrs pouring from her chest.

Price gave Ghost a pointed look but the younger Brit simply shrugged and gave a look along the lines of “I have no clue, but we are talking about Johnny.”

The matching mohawk and blue eyes seemed to help Johnny and Spike out in the end, Price caving and outlining very clear rules about keeping a cat with the task force.

She quickly became the favorite member of the task force.

Gaz found a blank patch in supply, using a quick rough stitch to emblazon ‘TactiCAT’ on the black patch with white thread. He stitched it into Spike’s favorite cushion, one they had saved from an old office chair being discarded.

In the mornings, Spike accompanied Ghost to the gym, alternating between sitting on the stack of weight plates or screaming until Ghost turned the treadmill on to the lowest setting so she could go for a walk. Every afternoon you could reliably find the small ball of fuzz curled up in the oversized cushion placed in the 141 rec room, right in the patch of sun filtering in from the window. Sometimes, she would exchange her patch of sunlight for the warm space next to Gaz when he and Soap had a moment to spare on video games. Each night, Spike wandered to Soap’s room, curled up in one of Simon’s hoodies at the foot of the bed. Some nights, when Price worked especially late, Spike would wander to his office, welcoming herself into his lap as he worked into the early hours of the morning- they had only been caught a few times but it was enough for Soap to get a photo and place it on the fridge in the rec.

Spike had settled into a steady routine, loved by every member of the team, and as much as she loved all of the men there was a certain pair she favored.

It was late at night, Johnny propped up in bed, Spike lying across his legs as he sketched. The small kitten nuzzled into his shin, perking up as Simon quietly slipped into the room, tossing his mask onto Johnny’s desk. A small chirp escaped from the fuzzball, prompting a chin scratch from the Brit.

“Good evening to you too, Spike…” The sweet moment made Johnny’s heart sing as Simon leaned over to kiss his forehead.

“Long day, lover?” Johnny asked, setting his pencil between the pages and closing the sketchbook. He knew Simon had been holed up in the conference room with Price and Laswell, some important video conference eating away at the day.

“The worst kind…” Simon grumbled, perching on the edge of the bed to unlace his boots. His hoodie followed next, tossed to the foot of the bed for Spike. He swept the other hoodie, now thoroughly covered in cat hair, off the bed, and into the laundry bin. Shirt and jeans quickly followed the old hoodie before Simon all but collapsed onto the unoccupied portion of the bed. Head in his arms, he looked up at Johnny, chuckling as he felt the familiar feeling of Spike’s paws on his back- kneading the tense muscle.

Simon looks completely blissed out as Johnny tangled his fingers in the soft blonde locks, fingers massaging the Brit’s scalp. “You gonna fall asleep like this? Ya big softie…”

“Couldn’t possibly… you haven’t even kissed me good night… incredibly cruel, don’t you agree Spike?” A determined meow rang out from the kitten, leaving Johnny slightly stunned as he laughed.

“Alright, alright… let's get ready for bed, and then I’ll kiss ya all ya want…” Spike only softly protested as she was removed from the warm perch that was Simon’s back, settling as she snuggled up in the still-warm hoodie.

Eventually, the boys were back in bed, only the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the space. Just as Johnny leaned over to kiss Simon, Spike appeared, wedging herself between the chests of the two men.

“Lass… you’ll get your turn…” Johnny scolded, leaning over again to kiss Simon, soft and full of love– something Simon had been craving all day. Once Johnny and Simon were well supplied with good night kisses, Simon opened his arms, Johnny and Spike both moving at once.

Spike was faster, happily nuzzling into Simon’s chest. “Sorry love, she beat ya’ to it…” Simon scooped the small fuzzball up, turning over so his back was to Johnny’s chest, Spike still snuggled against him.

“Aye, she did… it's alright though, like gettin’ to hold you like this, love…” Johnny shifted close to Simon, an arm thrown across his stomach. “Sleep well my little loves. Love you, Si.”

“Love you, Johnny…” Simon whispered, leaning over to turn the light off.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x john mactavish #ghost x soap

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prett1tini · 8 months

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When they meow/bark back I get so excited n happyyy! Makes me giggle :3

#age regression #sfw agere #age regressor #safe agere #sfw little blog #sfw little post #agere blog #agere little #sfw

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itzmnne-3-111 · 8 months

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♡ “No… no, not dearer than you” ♡

(Paragraph 3 is like a flashback to when you and Simon were at a party and he got drunk and wanted to kiss you)

“You will find moonlit night strangely empty because, when you call my name through them there will be no answer.”

Pt. 1

Drip,drip, tap, tap, was all you heard as you sat on the porch looking at the rain watered crops below. A sigh coming out of your mouth as you listen to the quiet song of rain mixed with thunder every few minutes.

Looking out onto a field with foods grown of all kinds but that’s not what’s on your mind..you got up to go back inside with that man on your mind..standing in the kitchen opening and closing the fridge and cabinet drawers looking for something to snack on so he’ll leave your mind. But to no avail

”Sm’thin’ on my mask” his deep husky voice said you gave him no response just a look in your eyes. The look of love and sadness you saw the ends of his eyes go up as if he was smiling ”you keep lookin’ at me like that I’m d have to kiss you” he said with a smile..

A kiss was all you wanted but you just stormed away kissing under the influence can lead to so many heart pounding things..his touch..his voice..god his beautiful eyes..but yet you walked away the man made just for you by god (whatever god you worship/anything if you’re atheist) and handed to you on a golden plate. yes you wanted him but not like this..not that day you thought as you walked away not that time..

The storm was stuck in your head as you paced around the kitchen once more till you heard a meow/bark and felt scraping on your left leg looking down to see your kitty/dog. getting on your knees and petting the tiny creature with a smile “Rather melodramatic aren’t I?”

An: Sorry if it’s like bad or doesn’t make sense it’s my first fic n’ I’m used to like writing poetry so if I continue this it will probably be like a poetry 3rd/1st person fluff story with ghost (maybe smut idk I’ll have to seeee) but if you have any suggestions or things to say I’d love to hear what you suggest or gotta say for feedback/ criticism 🩷🩷🩷

#ghost x reader fluff #black reader #fem reader #chubby reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x black reader #fluff #No… No #not dearer than you

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my0vershareworld · 2 years

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖

Pairing: Ulquiorra cifer x G/N human reader (with a lot of pets)

Genre: Fluff

CW: None

Note: The reader have 6 cats with 2 dogs and 3 hamsters

A/N: FIRST TIME WRITING ULQUI LES GO

he was very curious of what even is these little creatures. he keep asking questions about what it is and what it usually do and a lot of stuff since..in Hueco Mundo they don't have any of these little small pets

when you told that the creatures is 'cat hamster and a dog' he will immediately say

'but why doesn't have hamsters have ham in them?' and you have to explain that you don't even know why it named this way too.

but other than that he could not careless about the animals in your home. he quite used to loud things (Grimmjow, Nnoitra, and Yammy) so a cat meow and dog bark is nothing compared to those three at Las Noches.

he always quietly observing the little creatures and study of what it do in their day and do the animals have their daily routine. it might not seems like he care a lot but he always be looking at the little creatures whenever he gets the chance too.

he would help you take care of it if you actually help him and explain what to basically feed and do with your pets. he surprisingly fast to remember all the things and do what you exactly said. he might be holding it times to times but don't worry, it just him observing closely. but be aware because he wouldn't know when he's holding it too close or not or is he holding it the wrong way or not. so please teach this man EVERYTHING about pets.

your pets don't really like him too much because of how clueless and rough he is to them (which is all on accident)

if your pet got sick or injured..aw man. he don't even know how to help. he will do what you ordered him to do though, but most of the time he would be standing, staring at your pet with his eyes that literally have no soul in them.

overall he does not mind your pets since it don't annoy him much (because they don't like him much) but other than that he will care for it at some degree considering is YOUR pets.

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ask-the-observatory-gang · 9 months

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==> INTRODUCTION POST <==

Meet all the guys that you can ask questions, and who will be role-playing them in responses!

(All copy pasted from discord, everything under cut!)

Violet(Vi, V):

-Draws well (I had to)

-Adhd, maybe autism, CHEWS AND GNAWS ON EVERYTHING

-Actually wears her glasses

-Very silly, acts like normal V but sometimes actually genuinely happy and nice

-Totally isn’t the cause behind the bite marks on the landing pod chairs

-Aroace & lesbian flag

-Does the Dino arm thing

-Basically just a fucking cat (purrs, meows, and all that jazz)

-A broken headlight cause yummy yummy (same with crack in tail Vial and screen)

-Acts like a silly cat

-Most of the time unaware of surroundings

-She/her

==> @conniewoof

:!Stars intro!:

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- half snow leopard (somehow)

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- slightly talker than the average drone

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- workaholic

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- thinks her scars r cool

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- their pawpads and ear stars r rlly squishy :3 and if u squish her ear stars they make a squeak sound GEHE

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- she's practically a nightlight coz of how glowy they are.. but whenever she goes to sleep they stop glowing lolz

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- rlly likes bugs and studys them nonstop

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- loves analog horror n scary stuff in general,, they just find the concept of it all rlly interesting

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- gets distracted by anything cats would💀

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- rlly likes video games and can defo kick ass in them

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- has a scary ass zombie drone/solver form

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- her nose twitches when she cries shrug emoji

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ -- her tail (elliot) is actually pretty sentient, meaning he can communicate with beeps and boops (even though star can only understand them clearly)

==> @strbrypancakesxd

《☆ Nathan ☆》

<-- ADHD -->

☆▪︎▪︎ Pansexual, Transmasc ▪︎▪︎☆

==> This little man PURRS. He is a dog at heart but he PURRS.(his favorite thing to do)

==> Hehe silly feathered wings(that could still kill a man)

==> Would unironically bark at someone if they annoyed him somehow

==> Is the sweetest guy but oh my goodness does he hold a grudge

==> "Haha oh biscuts that knife right by my heart really hurts- Do you want that back?"

==> PUZZLES. Do not give this man a puzzle he will try to solve it for the next week and no-one will see him

==> Took the nanite acid out of his tail at one point(it hurt like a bitch) and now has a empty stinger as a tail tip instead

==> OBSESSED with keeping his wings clean and nice looking, he literally will put aside any other responsibilities until they're perfect

Silly little Alaskan Malamute inspired guy :3

==> @staruzi002

❦ Revel ❦

❦ Pansexual lil guy

❦ Has a weird hyperfixation on ducks, specifically lil tiny yellow ones and really loves to make random duck comments to fill a conversation.

❦ Anything that might be yellow is going to be gone in approximately 5 seconds of him spotting it

❦ Outgoing with a passion for fashion (OUJI-) and design, has a bit of sass if you by chance try to question his fashion choices. He also uses "girl" and "sis" unironically

❦ Usually passes away at the slightest compliment and will ascend with his wings into the stratosphere to hide himself

❦ Ribbons. Ribbons are the best.

❦ Don't give him any bells or things that squeak, he will indefinitely be playing with them until they break somehow and he'll go into sad lil guy mode for a week on average

❦ “Autobots! Roll out!” *rolls down an ongoing avalanche*

❦ Deathly afraid of spiders but will disintegrate an entire colony

==> @bonkadonkss

☆▪︎▪︎☆

In a mysterious alternate version of Copper-9, this fun little group all met eachother! And now they're here to answer your questions!

So ask away folks!

☆▪︎▪︎☆

RULES --

- No NSFW. For the love of God please none.

- Be nice to the sillies(and the roleplayers) we're just here to have fun!

- These are characters that are from an active rp server, so things might change about them as we go!

- Expect text for most of the answers(unless whoevers answering feels up to doing a doodle), that'll be how they're put most of the time!

#ask the observatory #intro post #murder drones #observatory violet #observatory star #observatory nathan #observatory revel

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spooksforsammy · 1 month

Note

Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow. Cat. Type with AAC Device for first time. Funny. Meow Meow Meow.

Woof woof meow woof woof . Is puppy cat. Puppy cat go bark bark meow woof

Hope you enjoy typing n using aac device, may be hard at beginning but hopefully get easier for you!! If ever want practice just send ask to me :3

#speech4amy #have good day anon!#nice anon #aac practice

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brother-genitivi · 1 year

Text

Olmayı En Sevdiğim Yer Senin Yanındır

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Mason / Aydın

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Mason helps Aydın wash the blood off his skin. He can't treat shock or the trauma that comes after a building collapses on him, but Mason can do that much.

Contains spoilers for book 3!

It’s been ten minutes since Mason burst through the warehouse doors, an unresponsive Aydın held against his chest. He had carried him to his bedroom and set him on the bed, only leaving reluctantly at Nate’s insistence. Felix sped off to find a doctor, Adam left to alert Agent Reyhan on her son’s condition, and Nate disappeared back into Aydın’s room with a plate of chopped fruits.

The second he left, Mason had to scrub his hands free of blood. Aydın’s blood. He couldn’t have cared less for the sting of the water against his skin; he needed the blood gone. Needed respite from that sickeningly sweet temptation.

Nate said Aydın was in shock. Mason can’t treat shock. What he can do is make Aydın’s favourite drink, so he paces back and forth in the warehouse’s kitchen and watches milk simmer in a pan.

It does nothing to stay his fear. His brain refuses to let himself be distracted, his thoughts replaying the scene of the building collapsing over and over.

He clenches his freckled fists. He can’t believe he was that close to losing Aydın forever. The thought of it hurts like a sledgehammer against Mason’s chest.

He grips the spatula in the pan until the handle shatters.

“Mason.”

“What?” he barks out, gathering the shards of the handle and flinging them into a bin. Mason relishes the pinpricks against his skin this time.

Nate approaches him quietly, his brows lowered with worry. Mason’s stomach twists. Things must not be good, then.

“It’s going to take a while to make the sa’alab; this is the real thing,” Nate explains. “I can take over.”

Mason’s words come out in a low hiss. “I’ve got it.”

He ends up snapping the spatula further with frustration.

“I mean,” Nate says softly, casting his eyes over the broken tool, “it’s going to take at least half an hour. You should go to him.”

Mason moves away from the stove in a flash, looking back once to see Nate retrieving a spare spatula and begin stirring. He’ll need to thank him later.

A small, furry object curls against his legs and trips him up. Mason glares down at the black cat. Lucifer stares back at him with wide green eyes, blinking slowly at him. He follows closely behind, likely as anxious to see his owner as Mason is.

They come to a halt in front of Aydın’s door. There’s a heartbeat coming from inside, too fast to be normal. Mason is glad he can hear it at all. He knocks.

There’s no answer.

Lucifer meows, scratching at the door. Mason hears a shuffle from the other side.

Still no answer.

“Aydi?” he calls.

A voice answers from within, small enough that even he with his enhanced hearing has to strain to catch the words. Mason opens the door to a dark room, blinds obscuring the windows.

Aydın sits with his knees to his chest. It’s the same position Mason left him in an hour ago. The plate of chopped fruits lies abandoned on his bedside table.

The scent of blood hits Mason’s nostrils. For a second, his mind grows utterly blank save for one desire. He shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, stepping inside.

“You still smell like blood.” Mason’s not sure why he says it. He hates it when people point out the obvious.

Aydın gradually wrenches his gaze from a spot on the wall to the rusted red lining his arms, as if only just realising it’s there. He begins to rub at his wounds, his dark eyes glazing over.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. That must be horrible for your senses.”

Mason slides his fingers over Aydın’s hand, stopping the rubbing motion. “I can handle it.”

Aydın nods. His shoulders tremble as they did when Mason found him kneeling amongst the rubble. Lucifer leaps onto the bed, watching intently over his owner.

Mason brushes a short black curl back from Aydın’s face. “What can I do?”

He needs an answer. Even if it’s a small errand. He needs to do something.

“Can you…” Aydın begins. He swallows thickly, his bloodied fingers coming to rest on the bruises on his neck. “Can you start the shower for me please? I’m so, so tired. If that’s okay.”

Mason can’t stop the relief flooding his face. He can do that.

“I can do that,” he affirms. He hesitates, not wanting to keep his eyes off of Aydın. Lucifer nudges Aydın’s knee with his damp nose, meowing as if to tell Mason to get on with his task. Mason manages a ghost of a smirk.

He tears his gaze away and strides to the bathroom. He yanks on the handle for the water, barely recoiling as it hits his arm. When the glass begins to fog, he retreats back to the bedroom.

“Thank you,” Aydın murmurs. He shuffles inside, his face tense with pain.

“I’ll wait here in case you need me,” Mason says. He sits himself in an armchair, his leg bouncing and creating a thrumming rhythm against the carpet. It's something he would normally yell at Felix for doing (the irregular sound makes him want to rip his flesh off), but he needs some kind of outlet for his anxious energy.

Not thirty seconds later, Lucifer springs off the bed, yowling outside the bathroom door. His fur sticks out at odd angles. Even before the cries of pain sound from the other side, Mason is on his feet.

A small thud has him imagine the worst.

“Aydın?” he says, unable to stop the panic creeping into his voice. “Aydi! Are you okay?”

Mason rams his fist against the door, hard. He’s ready to break it down if needs be.

The reply is strained, somewhere between a rasp and a sob. “No, I- ah, fuck! Sorry, I'm sorry. Can you come in? Please.”

Mason doesn’t mean to slam the door open. He rushes inside, finding Aydın slumped against the wall with his hands balled into tight fists. Red water swirls around him. Aydın’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut.

“What happened?” Mason demands.

Aydın rests his head against the wall before answering, his breathing shallow and rapid. “It hurts. More than I was prepared for. I got really light-headed. I just… need your help washing this blood off. If that's… okay.”

Mason enters the shower, his clothes soaked through in an instant. Without Aydın there, it would likely feel worse than it does.

Confusion briefly mingles with Mason's initial worry.

He places his hands on Aydın’s elbows, delicately hoisting him to his feet. His head rests back against Mason’s shoulder. Mason wraps an arm around Aydın’s middle, supporting the entirety of his body weight.

“I got you,” he murmurs. His fingers ghost a long but thin scratch on Aydın’s shoulder, silently asking for permission. He gets it with a soft hum.

Mason rubs at the dried blood stubbornly clinging to his skin. He tries to be as gentle as possible, wincing every time Aydın flinches.

He finds himself forgetting nowadays that humans can be so fragile. These past few months especially have helped Mason's belief that Aydın can withstand everything.

But he can't.

His fingers hover in the air over the indents on the side of Aydın's neck, marked by white scar tissue. They almost look out of place next to the bruises forming there. Mason is careful not to touch them.

He moves on to a small scratch on Aydın’s rib cage. He is extra gentle, knowing Aydın’s ribs must be tender from years of binding. The uniform, pink scars on his chest catch his eye for a moment. Mason drinks in every detail, determined not to forget.

He continues to wipe at the blood until the last remnants of it whirl down the drain. The torturous urge for a taste finally dissipates.

“That’s it,” Mason says. He can't help but feel relieved.

He tilts Aydın’s face up. This time his eyes are shut with bliss instead of pain. Mason stops the steady stream of hot water with one hand and grabs a towel with the other. He enfolds Aydın in his arms for a moment, drawing away again to properly secure the towel around him.

He says nothing about how Aydın’s heart rate increases.

“Need me to carry you?” Mason offers. It’s a short distance from the shower to the bed, but he doesn’t want Aydın moving more than he has to.

For the first time since they got back, Aydın smiles. Mason notices a slight dimple in his left cheek.

“Not if it’s going to be like that horrendous fireman’s lift you gave me one time,” Aydın says, sounding remarkably like his usual self. “But yes. Please.”

As Mason lifts him, he notes that Aydın seems more alert. He looks at Mason with a renewed clarity to his dark eyes. And something else. Something far softer. It confuses him even more.

The shock hasn't completely worn off, as evidenced by the shaking despite the overly warm room. That’s not likely to happen for a few hours, Nate had reminded him when they got back. Apparently he’s seen Aydın like this once before… after they rescued Sanja.

Mason tucks Aydın under the covers. He has half a mind to fluff his pillows, but abruptly stops himself. What the hell is he thinking?

He just wants Aydın to be comfortable. He'd do it for Nate (who loves his pillows fluffed).

He shrinks back, settling into the armchair he’s dragged to Aydın's bed.

“Mason?”

“Yeah?”

Aydın props himself onto his elbows. His face is marred by sickly purple bruises, his curls are dishevelled and he struggles to keep his eyes open, but Mason thinks he looks beautiful. Or rather, alive.

He's alive.

It truly sinks in how close to death Aydın was. It only would’ve taken one stray brick, one ill timed step as the building above him collapsed.

He's alive.

“Thank you,” Aydın says. He wrings his fingers. “No one’s ever… I mean- no one’s- you made me feel loved. That’s all. Thank you.”

His words are rushed, as if he’s reluctant to say it, to admit what he’s been missing. The simple confession threatens to rock Mason to his core.

Mason stares at him.

Loved.

It doesn’t have to mean anything. Or it does, but it doesn’t have to mean more than it needs to be. Except, what is more?

It doesn’t make sense. His lips collapse into a comfortable frown, frustration building inside of him.

You seriously confuse the fuck out of me, he thinks.

Aydın folds his arms, wincing at the exertion from the simple movement. “Now say something absolutely foul so I can stop worrying about you.”

I’m the one supposed to be worrying about you.

“I can think of a few ways for you to thank me, handsome,” Mason says. It’s forced. Maybe the pet name is a little much. But it makes Aydın laugh, a small sound that exposes his teeth in a wide grin, and Mason believes it’s worth it.

“You should get some sleep. You humans are-”

“-sickly things, I know.” Aydın rolls his eyes. He turns onto his side to look Mason in the eyes. “I’d rather not.”

Mason gets it. On the off-chance he manages to get to sleep, the nightmares are barely worth it. And from what Aydın’s been telling him, his nightmares are getting more frequent.

Mason reaches over to take the plate of fruit from Aydın’s bedside table. He wrinkles his nose, picking up a slice of watermelon and examining it.

“Eat something, at least. Nate’s making…” He pauses, thinking. “He’s making that drink you like. The Turkish one.”

Aydın lifts a brow.

Mason huffs with annoyance. “The milky one. Takes ages to make.”

“Salep?” Aydın offers. He bites down on his lip to hide a smile.

“Sure. He called it something different, but yeah.”

Aydın yawns, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. Mason watches his lashes brush his cheek and his chest aches with longing.

For what?

“I think,” Aydın mumbles, “I’m gonna sleep after all.”

Lucifer meows from the foot of the bed, stalking quietly to his owner. He manages to step on each one of Aydın’s internal organs on the way. He settles himself on Aydın’s chest, regarding Mason with a narrowed stare. The room fills with the sound of purring.

“Let me know when the doctor gets here?” Aydın asks, his voice heavy with fatigue.

“I’ll know when you do,” Mason replies. He shifts in the armchair, finding a more comfortable position.

“You will?”

Mason nods simply. “I’m not leaving you.”

Ever. Not even when you’re eighty and can’t make it up the steps anymore, he thinks.

Aydın seems to glow for a moment, euphoria lighting up his entire face. He smiles.

“Good.”

#twc book 3 spoilers #twc spoilers #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc mason #specialist agent mason #twc detective #mason x detective #twc fic #aydın çağlayan #my writing #soz the nonsexual intimacy makes me go insaaaaaneeee #'olmayı en sevdiğim yer senin yanındır' means 'together with you is my favourite place to be'#shower scene but mason's pov? i needed it so i wrote it #maydın #posted it to ao3 but may as well post here too <3

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