#i KNOW midwinter is so soon. i know. i know this. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dottores · 1 year

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, reader not in the best mental state (esp in first scene).

notes: FINALLY!!! its unedited so bear with me, i dont rlly have time to go through and edit + i've been sick as hell for two weeks straight now. but i hope u guys enjoy!!!

ALEA IACTA EST

You were trapped.

You didn’t know what sort of witchcraft Pantalone used but you couldn’t leave his wing. You thought you might be going crazy, it took two days of making excuses for you to realize that something was severely wrong, and another three for the anxieties to start embedding in your head. You had your first panic attack in years on the sixth day, and now on the seventh, you were sitting in the small library alone—there was a book in your lap, but the words were swimming off the pages and your head was spinning.

How was this what he wanted?

You couldn’t understand how either of you were benefiting from this. He wasn’t getting whatever knowledge he wanted from you and you weren’t getting what you needed to know. You were just stuck here, alone and lost. Not even Pantalone was around for the past few days because he went to finalize a business deal in a Mondstadt port town, he should be coming back soon but even when he did, you knew he wouldn’t spare you much attention.

How was this what he wanted? You wondered if it was supposed to be some sick sort of torture, wear down your mental fortitude so you’d be more apt to answer the questions he wanted. If that was the case, he would be severely disappointed when you spat in his face the next time he dared to make an appearance. Another part of you wondered if this was just how it would be—he would keep you locked up and alone so he didn’t have to deal with you but he also didn’t have to fear you running off and putting yourself in danger.

The more you thought about it, the more you convinced yourself of both options, and the more you hated your own soulmate.

Seven days. It had been seven days of being trapped in this place with only Pantalone to occasionally talk to and of the few times he spoke to you, the majority were just of him going on a vicious rant about how the Tianquan of Liyue kept sidelining his proposals and how the wineries of Mondstadt were icing him out of the wine market with Liyue’s merchants. He claimed it was all some big conspiracy against him because there was no reason they should be blatantly disregarding his letters, all of his proposals were mostly targeted for their profit, which the Regrator thought was blasphemous in itself—the Jester apparently cared more for building relationships with the administrative and economic sectors of each of the nations than Pantalone’s dignity as a businessman. You, evidently, did not give him the outraged reaction he wanted and he hadn’t come back to speak with you since, leaving for his meeting across the nation without a word.

Now you were alone, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you—and you knew it was not Dottore.

You exhaled as you tried to focus again on the book laying on your lap but your head throbbed and you were forced to avert your gaze back to the ceiling, trying to quell the pain through sheer willpower alone. The Regrator’s library was filled to the brim, but with nothing that would be of use to you trying to figure out how they had trapped you in this sector. Books on economics, the aristocratic families of Snezhnaya, the history of the northern lands and all of the old traditions and folklore that noble children were brought up learning, undoubtedly so he could fine tune that mask of his, pretending that he had always been one of them in order to shear more money from them.

A part of you wanted to warn him that the more he tried to fake it, the more they would ridicule him, but you didn’t want to be totally isolated again as soon as he came back so you figured you’d just let him figure it out himself.

Regardless, even with the massive amount of books that stacked his library’s walls, not a single one could help you in figuring out this spell. You’d never seen magics like this before—it was not elemental based, it was psyche-based. Every time you got down the hall, to the eighth window from your room to the right, your head started feeling light and dizzy, you felt sick and nauseous and were forced to turn back lest you put yourself in a very, very vulnerable position in a place where you could not afford any vulnerability.

As nervous as it made you, at first, you found amusement in it. You were irritated and scared, yes, but more than that, you knew that Dottore could feel everything you did. So, you made it your mission to stay right at that eighth window for as long as you possibly could, just because you knew that you were racking your soulmate with that same nausea and dizziness and light-headedness that you were experiencing.

Now, the amusement was gone and you were just scared. You were scared that you would be trapped here forever, never again to see your mother and your half-siblings and your grandfather. You were scared that you’d disappoint your father, that you wouldn’t be able to succeed in your mission and he would never be able to rest peacefully without justice having been exacted. And as much as you hated him, you were scared that you would never see him again either, that he would just leave you here to rot, live out the rest of your miserable existence confined to a single hall with books that you would rather burn than read.

You hated that you felt so attached to him already—that even though the thought of him filled you with vile rage and agony, your body still ached for his touch, your eyes still longed for the sight of him walking through the dark doors of the library, and your bond still screamed for you to somehow end this war between the two of you so it could find peace.

Even if peace negotiations were in your hands, you would still stubbornly throw them out the window, but they weren’t because he continued to completely deny you his presence. You were at his mercy, only when he decided, would a white flag be lifted.

“Excuse me.”

You stiffened, an unwelcome chill ran down your spine as you looked over your shoulder to where an unfamiliar figure was standing in the doorframe of the library. With golden blonde curls and green eyes, no more than a decade older than you, you thought that the man might’ve been handsome were it not for that there was a dark gleam behind his eyes that reminded you a lot of your step-father, one that promised danger and deceit.

He smiled and even though his teeth were not sharpened, somehow they looked more like knives than Theta’s did. “You’re the aristocrat from Fontaine that the Regrator took in, no?”

“I am,” you said. Your voice was hoarse from days without speaking, you cleared your throat, closing the book and placing it down on the couch next to you just in case the man tried to take a seat there with you. “And you are?”

He wasn’t as unfamiliar as you originally believed. You recognized him from the event, standing with the rest of the Harbingers—immediately, you were on edge, trying to figure out what he wanted from you. He came closer to you and you bit the words that tempted to fly from your mouth as he picked up the book you had placed as a deterrent to take a seat on the couch right next to you, too close for comfort. You could feel his thigh brushing yours as he looked to the side to watch you, eyes tracing over your body once before settling on your face.

“Brighella,” he greeted, holding a hand out to you. “Tenth of the Fatui Harbingers, delighted to make your acquaintance.”

You placed your hand in his, albeit reluctantly, watching raptly as he lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently before letting go. His lips were soft and pleasant against your fingers yet it still made your skin crawl. You drew your hand back into your lap immediately, waiting for him to explain what he wanted.

“I was just curious,” he said, answering the unspoken question. “The Regrator is a very proud man, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he never responds well to help. It came as a shock to hear that he was taking in an aristocrat from Fontaine as an advisor.”

He was lying—about what, you weren’t sure, but you knew somewhere in that statement of his that there was a lie, and though you had no way of confirming it, you suspected that it had to do with his initial claim: that he was simply curious.

“He intends to expand the Northland Bank into Fontaine City,” was all you replied with, a thin smile painting your lips. “Even someone as proud and intelligent as him is not capable of such a feat alone, the Court of Fontaine is notoriously anti-Snezhnaya.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Brighella waved off your words and relaxed into the chair next to you, eyes disarmingly beseeching as he watched your reactions. “But we have our own operatives in Fontaine City, I was surprised that he didn’t just come to me for information, rather insulting, actually.”

He laid the information in front of you like meat to seduce a starving beast, all the while he lurked behind the bushes and waited for you to lunge at it so he could drive his blade across your neck as an execution. You didn’t respond, maybe for a second longer than you should have, but the sudden information had thrown you off guard.

It was him.

The words rang resounding through your head, Brighella was the one running the Fatui’s operations in Fontaine. Why had he told you? What did he expect to gain from this? There was something you were missing still, but after a week of forced isolation and no progress in your mission, this was like a feast handed to you on a silver platter.

“Perhaps your operatives are just not capable enough for such a scheme,” you said dryly, but your voice sounded vacant even to your own ears, it was clear that you were focused on something else.

Brighella raised a hand to his chest as if he’d been wounded by your words. “Oh, but the Knave and I had trained so many of them personally,” he sighed. “What use am I to this organization if my colleagues won’t even rely on me or my agents to deliver when necessary?”

It was a rhetorical question but you didn’t know what to make of it, or of him. Faux-mourning tainted his tone as he spoke, a regretful expression on his face as he turned his eyes up to the ceiling above.

What was he trying to gain from this? You asked yourself again, more desperately this time. His lips, still tilted up as they’d been this whole conversation, had a bit more of triumph in them than they’d had before and you knew that somewhere you had slipped up, revealing something you shouldn’t have. But you rewound the conversation in your head over and over and over again and you couldn’t quite place where you had. You’d been careful with your words, nothing to set off alarm bells—your cover with the Regrator’s expansion in Fontaine was true, but you were just not being quite as helpful as he would like you to be, and Pantalone was very clear in his opinions on their Fontaine plants and their inadequacy.

It had to have been your tone, the emptiness in your response to his reveal about his subordinates in Fontaine. It gave away your interest, and you could play it off as if it was just a general interest in how they’d infiltrated Fontaine, but if your stepfather truly was his agent, then he would know very well who you were and your ulterior reasons for being here—or he would at least now have confirmation.

Pantalone had told you that Pulcinella, Brighella and Tartaglia would be the three Harbingers who would be the least of your worries, but you thought that the Friar was much more dangerous than he made himself out to be.

How were you supposed to proceed? You tested words on the tip of your tongue but you could not figure out what to say—if you were suddenly interested in him, he would know it was only because of the information he revealed, but if you were cold and distant, you risked him not returning and you needed more information one way or another, even if it meant consorting with a man that made your hair stand on end.

You didn’t get the chance to speak up again though, as your lips parted to speak, Brighella rose to his feet.

“I should get going. I’d prefer not to draw the ire of my fellow Harbingers, but it was a pleasure talking to you,” he murmured, a small smile and eyes turned upward as he nodded his head down in acknowledgement. “I’ll stop by again soon, it’s cruel of the Regrator and the Doctor to leave you alone the way they have.”

Two days later, the Friar returned.

You’d spent the two days alone reeling and trying to understand where you had gone wrong and how you could compensate for it. You needed a plan of action, and a fast and efficient one at that. Freezing him out would be stupid, as much as it might be the most comforting course of action, but you also couldn’t just suddenly be trying to get closer to him because he would realize something was up.

You weren’t stupid. If he had truly just been curious about you, he would have come much sooner than he did. He waited because he wanted you to be worn down and utterly alone, so you would latch onto him like he was a buoy in the raging sea. Unfortunately for him, you were far too used to being alone. As agonizing as a week of isolation was, it was not near enough to make you that desperate.

But he had information you wanted desperately, so you wanted to let him think whatever plan he was concocting was working in hopes that he might reveal more to gain your trust and dependency. You thought it would be a slow and arduous process, not to mention agonizing, but considering neither Pantalone nor Dottore have come to see you in over a week now, you figured you had nothing better to do anyway and this was your best shot at getting what you wanted… and maybe, if you ended up being successful with this, you could free yourself too but you thought that was far less likely.

At the very least, it might force Dottore into action if he thought you were starting to get close with Brighella.

But that was a long shot anyway. Brighella was a type of beast that you were unfamiliar with. He kind of reminded you of some of the crueler members of Fontaine’s aristocracy, the ones who found entertainment in setting up trials that they knew would lead to one terrible sentencing, all the while smiling to the defendants face, but even then they were nothing like this. He was a wolf that portrayed himself as a sheep in the truest sense of the proverb and you just didn’t know what he was capable of, or what he wanted, and that was what scared you most—you didn’t like it when you didn’t know what someone’s intentions were with you.

Your stepfather was easy, all he wanted was more power in Fontaine, evidently to report back to the Fatui for a promotion—you and your father were obstacles in obtaining said power, so he removed your father from being able to influence your mother and you were certain that if you had stayed in Fontaine City, he would have gone after you too.

Dottore was somewhat frank in his intentions with you: he wanted you out of his life so that you couldn’t affect his research but he was keeping you here because he wanted information from you… and a part of you was certain that he was keeping you here also because it prevented you from going out and getting yourself hurt or killed, and that scared you because you didn’t know just how long he planned to keep you isolated here. Or if he ever even planned to release you.

Pantalone had been upfront with you: he wanted a way to get the Northland Bank into Fontaine, you had offered your help in exchange for assistance with removing your stepfather from the courts but you had no intention of giving him any help until he had pulled through on his end. And even then, you had never specified how much help you would give him—you were not going to give the Fatui more of a foothold than they already had.

Not after what they did to your father.

Brighella was an unknown. He had come to you with a goal two days ago, and whatever that goal had been, he had achieved it. You still couldn’t figure what it was, even after days of recounting your conversation to figure it out, and that unnerved you more than anything.

“You actually came back,” you said quietly, eyes flickering up to where Brighella had entered the library. He brought something with him, you couldn’t quite tell what it was but it smelled good, and familiar.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Brighella replied, amused. He came around the couch to sit next to you. He sat closer this time.

“It’s been two days, I was beginning to doubt.”

“Yes, well, the Regrator grew a bit suspicious when he saw me coming from the direction of his wing, the last thing I needed was to draw his ire. The Doctor already has it out for me even when I do no wrong.” Brighella sounded aggrieved as he spoke but your ears rang loudly at his words.

“The Regrator already returned from his meeting in Mondstadt?” you asked, keeping your voice free of all tightness but when Brighella only shot you a confused look, one that did not appear to be feigned in the slightest. “Ah, I see.”

There was no meeting in Mondstadt.

You wondered if it was by Dottore’s will or his own that he had lied and left you here in isolation. You thought it would be easier to believe it was Dottore’s, you had already made him out to be your villain, but you knew better than to assume that. Dottore was obstinate and prideful, yes, but Pantalone was the one who had clawed his way from the bottom tiers of society to the very top, his manipulation would know no bounds—he knew that you were already struggling with Dottore’s refusal to acknowledge you, and he probably thought that his disappearance, after entertaining you for a few days, would put you over the edge.

Jaw tight and trying your best to keep your emotions off of your face lest Brighella take advantage of your distressed realization, you forced yourself to turn your attention back to the Harbinger.

“Here,” Brighella said, passing the covered dish over to you. “Tartiflette, I figure you must be missing home. I hear tartiflette has been rather popular amongst the aristocrats lately.”

I hear.

Bitterly, you wanted to ask just how he managed to hear that but you refrained. Instead, you glanced down at the dish—it was covered with foil but it smelled good, just like the one you and Sylvie used to get from Cafe Lucerne before your father passed away.

You wondered if it was poisoned, or laced with something, you didn’t exactly put it past Brighella. Even if there were ulterior motives behind him bringing you the dish, it was thoughtful nonetheless. So instead of voicing your suspicions or refusing the dish, you took into your lap, letting the warmth of the bottom of the plate and the familiar scent sink in.

“Thank you.”

Brighella looked pleased, green eyes glittering. “You’re welcome.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, and you listened to the way the wind rattled the glass nearby. It was getting late already, you could see the moon rising over the trees in the distance. Nine days now with no word from Dottore at all. You were sure he was probably keeping the segments away from you too because you hadn’t seen a single one since that night.

After a few moments of silence, Brighella asked, “He told you that he had a meeting in Mondstadt?”

You didn’t respond, you supposed that was answer enough because he let out a heavy sigh.

“The Regrator does love his underhanded tactics.”

“And you don’t?” you couldn’t help but press, eyeing him curiously.

“I do.” At least he didn’t bother hiding it, shooting you a deceptively friendly smile as he relaxed back into the chair. “But it’s different, my underhanded tactics are for the greater good.”

“Many men have claimed to do terrible things for the greater good,” you murmured. “What makes you different?”

Your subordinate killed my father, you were saying, tell me how that was for the greater good?

Brighella watched you for a second and then said, “Perhaps you’re right, but I’d like to believe otherwise.”

You hummed, looking away but you could feel that he was still looking at you and it was making you feel antsy, like a cornered animal.

Finally, Brighella spoke up again. This time, his voice was far more quiet, as if he didn’t want someone listening in. “I wish we had more time to talk instead of rushing straight to business, but I fear that I’m testing many boundaries and patiences by coming to visit you and I’d like for you to understand why I am.” Curiously, your eyes focused onto him, he was still staring at you, watching your reactions. “The Regrator cannot give you what you want. He has no power in Fontaine, nor jurisdiction over any of the subordinates there, that is why he’s coming to you and trying to get your assistance. He does not want to use me as an intermediary for his business.”

There it was. You raised your chin a bit in surprise as Brighella’s words reached your ears and his motives became clearer. You didn’t doubt that there were other ulterior ones that he was keeping to himself, but this one was enough for you to get some clarity on the situation: Brighella and Pantalone were playing a game of chess for Fontaine, and both thought that you would be the piece that would win them the game.

You realized, slowly, that you might just have a bit more power than you realized, and that Pantalone had been trying to keep you ignorant to it.

It also gave you more insight on the Fatui itself, and more specifically, the relationship between the Harbingers. You had a feeling that the camaraderie shown during the event was just a show but you hadn’t thought the rivalry ran so deep as to having Harbingers competing for power through using outside sources.

You wondered if Brighella realized just how much he had revealed to you. From the steady look in his eyes as he watched you, he very much did. You wondered then why, because it had to be something beyond just trying to get you to not help Pantalone—unless he was that desperate to keep Fontaine in his grasp. But you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you finally responded with, pointedly meeting his eyes.

He was studying you carefully and finally, he nodded, rising to his feet. “It’s alright. I’ll come back soon and give you some time to think. Just remember, what the Regrator promised you is not something he is able to give at this point and time. He’s making you think that you are the one dependent on him but without your cooperation, he doesn’t have a foothold in Fontaine, which is what he desperately wants.”

You didn’t respond as he walked out of the room, but before he stepped through the door, he turned to look at you one last time, “Enjoy the tartiflette—perhaps next time, I’ll bring you an even grander gift.”

You were not in the library the next time Brighella came to visit. You were lounging in your room preparing for bed when the knock came at your door. For a second, just a second, you might’ve hoped that it was Dottore, finally ending the war between the two of you—but as you called for the person to come in, and a head of curly blonde hair and green eyes peeked from around the door, the bit of hope that had sprung up withered in an instant.

“May I?” Brighella asked, motioning for him to come into your room.

How improper, you thought to yourself, trying to force away the heat that rose to your cheeks. But you needed to keep talking to him, milk him for all that he knew before you made a decision about what you were going to do.

“Of course,” you responded with, watching him carefully as he slipped into the room and made his way over to where you were sitting. He sat on the window nook next to where you were sitting at your vanity, leaning back on his hands as he studied you carefully.

“Have you thought about my proposal yet?” Brighella murmured, his eyes were intense as he watched you, you could barely even hold his gaze and you had never had trouble holding anyone’s gaze before.

You had. Of course, you had. With the newfound knowledge of Pantalone’s inability to actually get you what you want without you giving him what he wanted first, everything changed. Your whole position in this situation changed. You were still a prisoner, naturally, but you were a prisoner with power right now. You had two different Harbingers vying to acquire your support. It could change in a second, you knew that, you couldn’t get ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t just disregard the opportunity this presented.

You also could not take everything Brighella said at face value.

You remembered the look in his eyes when you first met him, the skeevy one that reminded you of your stepfather and all of the other men and women in your life who had done terrible, terrible things without remorse.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied instead, and Brighella sighed, disappointed but not surprised.

“Ah, I see,” Brighella said. “I haven’t quite gained your trust yet—well, perhaps this will change that.”

From his pocket, Brighella pulled out a piece of parchment, sealed with a wax Fatui insignia. He held it out to you and you reached out cautiously, taking it into your hands and turning it over to view the blank back of the parchment. You had no way of knowing the contents of it without breaking the wax seal, you looked up at Brighella, questioningly. He looked pleased, a small smile teasing at his lips.

“This is a letter I have addressed to a particular subordinate of mine stationed down in Fontaine,” Brighella explained, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow propped up on his knee as he watched you. You could only barely bite back the sharp intake of breath as you looked down at the parchment again. “Yes, yes, I know, you don’t know what I’m talking about. But hypothetically, if you did, I was willing to gift you one of two options.”

“What are these hypothetical options?” you asked, your knuckles just a bit too tight around the parchment to pass it off as normal.

“You can keep that letter, and we can work together as partners. I can work with the Knave to set up a mission with the Jester and the Tsaritsa to have you head back to Fontaine, where you can use the letter as evidence to put said subordinate on trial before the Hydro Archon and Chief Justice,” Brighella said, your throat felt tight and swollen, your lips on the verge of trembling.

Everything you wanted, but there had to be a catch. You knew better. For all you knew, the contents of the letter was empty, he could let you go down to Fontaine only to make you look like a fool when you presented the letter as evidence.

“The second option?” you asked, proud that your voice remained steady and void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you.

“I will send it south and summon him back to Snezhnaya. You can exact your own justice here.”

What was the catch?

There had to be a catch, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out. You knew it was something more than just preventing Pantalone from stepping into his territory but Brighella was impossible to read and far more unpredictable than you expected. You were baffled that he would go to this length to try to get you to trust him.

“You can hold onto the letter until you’ve made your decision, I-”

“My, my,” a familiar, smooth voice drawled. “What is this?”

At once, your blood ran cold as you looked up to see a familiar figure standing in your doorframe, violet eyes cold and cruel as he stared at where you were sitting with Brighella. Brighella only smiled thinly, mocking, as he looked at Pantalone and said: “Regrator, I hope you don’t mind me spending time with your new advisor, she’s quite the lovely little thing. I’m rather fond of her.”

“Is that meant to mean much?” Pantalone asked dryly, the smile on his lips tightening at the corners and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say. “You’re fond of everything with two legs that will open for you.”

Your face felt hot, fingers tightening around the parchment as his words registered. Two legs that will open?

How dare he?

Who does he think he is?

The barrage of livid questions battered your head, begging to be let loose but you bit your tongue, sharpening it as you instead responded with: “How crude, I know you had an unfortunate upbringing but I thought you’d learned better by now than to speak every vile word that crosses through that repulsive mind of yours.”

Next to you, Brighella hid his smile behind his hand and you at least felt a little validated even as Pantalone’s eyes bore down into you, you could see the promise for bloodshed barely veiled beneath his calm expression.

“I’ll take my leave.” Brighella rose to his feet and to your horror, he leaned in close to you, taking both of your hands in his and you wanted to pull away, ask him what the hell he was thinking, but the words died on your tongue as he took the parchment from your hand before Pantalone could catch sight of it, subtly letting it drop to the floor before using his foot to slip it beneath the bed. His lips flickered upward. “Think about what I said. I’ll come by again.”

“No, you will not,” Pantalone interjected coolly. “I believe I have mentioned before that you are not welcome in my wing of the palace, Friar.”

“Then I will send one of my subordinates to fetch her to bring her to mine.” Brighella waved off the comment. “It’s no bother.”

He directed a faux-smile toward Pantalone as he slipped past the other Harbinger and left the room, leaving you alone with him. Pantalone stared after Brighella for a moment before turning his attention on you.

You raised your chin and asked sweetly, “How did your business deal down in Mondstadt fare?” knowing damn well that there was no business deal down in Mondstadt.

He very clearly understood what you were getting at, the sweet smile on his lips just as fake as your tone as he said, “Very well.”

“I’m sure.”

The mockery in his eyes slowly slipped away the longer he stared at you—he wanted to say something, that was for sure, but he either didn’t know how to say it or he couldn’t, and you had a distinct feeling that Pantalone spoke more than he breathed so finding a way to say it was not the problem, he felt that he couldn’t.

“The Friar is not to be trusted,” he finally decided.

“There is not a single soul within this palace that is to be trusted,” you countered icily.

He smiled, but the smile did not meet his eyes. “Fair enough.”

There was a quiet tone to his voice, you wondered if any of Brighella’s statements held any truth to them, if he was worried that you would side with the Tenth instead of him, and he would lose his shot at expanding the Northland Bank into Fontaine.

Something wicked swam in his eyes as his gaze cast over where you were sitting once more, voice more scathing now. “I do wonder how the Doctor will feel about your newfound relationship with the Friar,” and you realized that the Regrator did not fret over anything. And if he was backed into a corner like a wounded animal, he would lash out ten times as deadly.

He was threatening to tell Dottore if you did not speak to his liking, if you did not dismiss Brighella’s option.

Your eyes widened, just a bit—you knew there was nothing wrong with what you’d been talking about with the Friar. Dottore knew that you were here for one thing, and one thing alone: obtaining the evidence to convict your stepfather of your father’s murder. But you had a feeling that Pantalone would be spiteful and describe what he had walked in on as not what really happened, he’d put it in the worst light possible and blow the slim chance you had for Dottore ever showing up…

Or, it would finally force him into action.

It was a risky gamble—one that you weren’t sure if you should take. Dottore was prideful and stubborn and you didn’t know how far it extended. It could blow up in your face, or it could finally get you what you wanted: the upperhand.

You had never been a gambling woman before, but ever since you got to Snezhnaya, you were being put into situations forcing you to change and adapt just so you could survive, so you could bring justice to your father.

You didn’t think you liked the person who you were becoming, but you didn’t think you had a choice.

You smiled at Pantalone, but the smile was as empty as you felt.

“I don’t particularly care what the Doctor feels concerning my relationship with Brighella. Tell him whatever you please, do pass on my regards to the younger segments though.”

“I must say your soulmate truly is a little spitfire, she has proven it time and time again.”

Dottore sighed as he looked up from his vial, heavy eyes focusing on Pantalone as the man slunk into his labs as if he owned them. His smile was tight and his eyes were not in the typical upturn they usually turned up whenever he was amused—whatever you had said to him had severely pissed him off, it nearly made his own lips twitch upward, wondering what exactly you had said to get under his skin so badly.

“And what did she say this time?” Dottore drawled, not even bothering to feign curiosity, placing the vial back down on the burner as he looked up at Pantalone, whose eye twitched at the question.

“It’s about time you stop playing this game with her, Doctor.” Was all Pantalone said in response, observing a failed, burnt test subject disdainfully, poking at it with a long, gloved finger before drawing his gaze back up to Dottore.

“And here I thought you were playing the same game,” Dottore dismissed, although he would beg to differ that it was not a game, but the last thing he wanted was to get into a battle of semantics with Pantalone. “Was that not why you’ve been loitering around my labs this past week?”

“Yes, I was,” Pantalone agreed, but there was an edge to his voice that made Dottore suspicious, “and it backfired. A certain snake rose from the grasses to take advantage.”

“Hm?” Dottore tilted his head to the side, red eyes narrowing as Pantalone’s words registered.

“Now is not the time for your stubbornness, Doctor,” the banker warned. “Continue to disregard her and she will turn to someone else… or I suppose, she already has. I caught her acting rather intimately with the Friar in her quarters just before I came here.”

Dottore’s lips flattened and his eyes went cold, Pantalone caught the physical reaction, eyebrows shooting upward, mockingly. But Pantalone could only see the physical reaction, he could not feel how Dottore’s blood somehow felt like it was burning and freezing at the same time, he could not see how his vision tunneled and he could not hear how his ears were ringing.

Intimately?

There it was again—that prideful and possessive feeling rearing its ugly head. You were his, only by fate and by chance, but you were his nonetheless, even if he was loathe to admit it. He ignored the hypocrisy of his thoughts, you were his and yet he had ignored you for over a week? He was laying claim to you after all of his denial and anger?

He had been doing what was right, separating himself from you to prevent the bond from getting any stronger. He wasn’t playing the same game that Pantalone was, isolating you to try to make you more malleable to his requests when he finally came back around; Dottore did not play games, not with anyone, much less with you.

But was he okay with you turning your attention elsewhere with his absence?

No. No, he was not. The thought filled him with an emotion he hadn’t felt in over four hundred years, not since his years as a Fatui recruit before he’d learned to separate himself from his emotions.

“She asked for me to pass on my regards to the younger segments.” Pantalone smiled as he spoke, knowing that the words were bound to set Dottore off even more because how dare you send your regards to the children as you let another man into your quarters. “I’ll be heading to my office now. I have some paperwork to finish filling out. Do think on what I said, I expected a branch of the Northland Bank in Fontaine to come out of this arrangement. If it does not, you will have to make up for it.”

“Your expectations are not my responsibility,” Dottore said, voice clipped and icy and far more strained than he meant for it to be.

Pantalone only let out a huff of laughter as he spun on his heel, shooting Dottore one last long look that had Dottore’s body begging for violence as a response. Nearly twenty years of him being forced into a corner because of you, and it was only getting worse.

“It is in this situation,” he said as he made his way out of the lab as quickly as he had come, leaving Dottore there alone with raging thoughts and turbulent emotions.

The Friar.

Brighella.

Lip curled up in a type of rage he hadn’t felt in a long, long time, he finished putting his equipment away and reached for his mask, intent on heading to your quarters himself to understand just what was going on between you and the Tenth.

It was the first time you’d been in Snezhnaya where there hadn’t been a storm battering the night. Once the Regrator had left you to your business, and you were finally able to finish getting ready for bed, you curled up at the window nook to look outside, where the air was still bitter and cold but the harsh winds had subsided and the moon was reflecting prettily over the frozen lake north of the palace.

It looked calm and peaceful—you thought there was a beauty to Snezhnaya that was unique. The Hydro Archon and her acolytes liked to frame the nation as one big frozen wasteland but the more time you spent there, the more you realized that it was just not true. It was frozen, yes, but there were towering trees and massive lakes, the snow sparkled beneath the sun and moon in a way you’d never seen before.

You pressed the pad of your finger against the glass, a longing feeling sweeping over you as your eyes focused on the line of trees on the opposite side of the frozen lake. You thought that this might be your chance—the storms had subsided, you could make a break for it, but you knew deep down that the lack of storm was a deception you couldn’t afford to fall for. Just because the winds had died and the snow and ice had stopped falling, it didn’t mean that it was safe enough to travel through. You would still freeze. Perhaps if you had a pyro vision, it would be different but your hydro vision would do nothing to protect you against the cold.

You sighed, laying your forehead against the window and letting the chilly feeling spread through you, a stark contrast from the warmth of the fireplace emanating throughout your room.

You wondered if you made a mistake. You had antagonized Pantalone, and he had likely antagonized Dottore on your behalf. It had felt good in the moment—a sharp jab that relieved some of the heavy pressure that isolation had put on you, but now the pressure was back and worse than before.

You were not wondering. You knew it had been a mistake.

Even if Brighella had been telling the truth and you held more power than Pantalone was leading you to believe, you couldn’t afford to isolate yourself from the option he presented. Dottore clearly trusted him enough to trust him with you, which you thought was about the biggest show of trust anyone could get from the Second.

And neither of them trusted Brighella.

Your pride and anger had gotten the best of you—they had gotten the best of you when you had thought you had been in control. You laid everything out logically, convinced yourself that the option Brighella posed was just as appealing as Pantalone, forgetting that at the very least, Dottore and Pantalone were known threats to you. That yes, Pantalone wanted to use you and Dottore wanted nothing to do with you, but neither of them would risk your safety. Brighella was an unknown, just a charming and manipulative one that knew precisely when and how to strike.

You weren’t cut out for this. You let your eyes slide shut as you tried to force away the tears building in them. Frustration, anger, desperation, they were all becoming too much for you to handle. You didn’t know what to do. If Brighella was telling the truth, he really was the key to getting what you want, but you couldn’t trust him, you didn’t know what his motives were. Behind the pretty eyes and glittering smile was a snake with venomous fangs that could clamp down at any moment.

You thought the courts of Fontaine had prepared you for this but the Snezhnayan court and the heart of the Fatui was a beast that you were not equipped to deal with. The courts of Fontaine were a beast, you would never think otherwise, but you’d been foolish enough to let yourself believe that they were similar enough to Snezhnaya’s that you’d be able to handle it.

In Fontaine, your name had power and words were as sharp and lethal as daggers—as long as you put on a pretty mask and an entertaining performance, you would survive, but the aristocrats and observers of justice would eat alive anyone who could not put on a convincing and beguiling show.

In Snezhnaya, your name meant nothing and the only coat of protection you could place over yourself was Dottore’s position in the Fatui, and his forced bond to you. Your mask was shattering the longer you were stuck in the cold, and the entertaining performances you were so adept at putting on were becoming more pathetic than anything else. Danger lurked around every corner, not even just those who wanted to kill you as a means to weaken the Doctor, but also those who hated you for the country you come from. You had seen the way one of the Harbingers had looked at you during the event, and having even one Harbinger against you meant that you had hundreds of subordinates out for your throat to try to gain her approval.

You were well beyond your depth. A vast ocean all around you and the currents were dragging you under, water filling your lungs as you tried to thrash your way back to the surface but there was an anchor chained to your ankle that you simply couldn’t fight against.

You took in a deep, shuddered breath. You thought back to the old prophecy, the one that whispered that one day Fontaine and all of its citizens would be washed away by the rising waters, drowned by that which is supposed to protect them, finding their eternal rest in the sands until they became one with the sea.

Sometimes you wondered if it was a literal or metaphorical fate, you had always taken it as literal and dismissed it as an old wives’ tale, but now you were questioning everything you held as true: you felt like you were drowning, your identity dissolving as the water closed in around you, and you felt helpless to it, just like how the ancient prophecy threatened.

Finally, you raised your head and looked back outside, eyes widening when you caught sight of a figure standing in the frame of your door through the reflection of the window, tall and imposing. You hadn’t even heard the door open. Even with the mask, you could feel the coldness behind his gaze.

He only spoke one word:

“Come.”

reblogs appreciated!

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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darthgloris · 1 year

Text

Adorable

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!Jedi!bi!reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N have had a special bond since she first found him unconscious on the Jundland wastes; however, their friendly thoughts about each other turn into deeper feelings soon enough, feelings that seem obvious to everyone but each other. Princess Leia has had enough of their obliviousness and, with the help of her counterpart Han Solo, decides to give them a little push in the right direction.

Warnings: set between A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back so SPOILERS, fluff, romantic tension, sexual tension, Luke being a shy and rambling mess, bi!reader

A/N: I'm writing this fic for @c4m3r4m4n, who fell in love with an idea drafted up by @dailydragon08 (to whom I give credit for the plot of the fic, thank you very much). I hope you like it :) also it's been a while since I've published, I feel like the ancient one has been awoken 💀💀

☆☆☆

"I won't go easy on you, Skywalker." Y/N taunted, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"I'm not asking you to." Luke countered with a smile, followed by the hum of his igniting weapon.

She smirked at his response, hoping that the duel would take his focus off her burning cheeks. The two bowed to each other and she didn't hesitate to deliver the first blow, raising her brows in surprise at how readily he lifted the weapon in front of him to block her. Y/N smiled as her green lightsaber clashed against her sparring partner's blue one, watching him deflect every strike with a look of concentration etched onto his face.

She was proud of how far Luke had come since he first held his father's lightsaber in his hands, nearly losing a limb to inexperience. He had made staggering progress in the last few months of training: looking back at the farm boy who almost chopped his arm off on accident, she noticed how he was slowly starting to rely on the Force as well as on his abilities, how he was starting to get out of his head and stop overthinking every single movement, every action and reaction.

Her gaze moved from their lightsabers to his face, the face that she adored so much. She adored his eyes that reminded her of the midwinter sky, holding the innocence of a young boy and an ever-present mischievous twinkle; his sandy blonde hair that drooped over his eyes when he looked down in shyness, a small smile playing at his lips; and most importantly, his heart of gold, his kindness, gentleness, and selflessness-

"Maker, are you all right?!" Luke exclaimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Just then the pain in her hand registered in her brain, and she looked down to see a cut across her palm. It wasn't serious, just a small wound, but she found it cute that he worried so much.

"Luke, it's okay, it's just a cut," she said in an attempt to calm him. "I've hurt myself dozens of times before."

"But... but I'm the one who hurt you..." he mumbled, his sad puppy eyes looking up at her. "Come here, let me clean it."

"Really, Luke, it's fine-" she started.

"Please?" He pouted with genuine guilt in his eyes.

She couldn't say no to him. It just wasn't in her. "Okay."

He walked across the room while she sat down and he came back with a medikit. He knelt down in front of her, making her breath hitch in her throat. He started to tend to her wound carefully, holding her hand with a gentleness she had never been touched or treated with before. He dabbed a piece of cloth on her hand, looking at her in guilt whenever she flinched.

"Sorry about this," he mumbled, grabbing the disinfectant. "This is going to sting a bit."

She hissed as the chemicals dropped into her open skin while Luke mumbled apologies and soothing words.

"Oh, come on. It happens." She dismissed.

"Still, I feel bad. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right? Physically or otherwise." He stated.

She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the statement, the hope of her feelings towards him being reciprocated warming her heart. She mumbled an "I know" and looked at him, focused on the task at hand, his blonde locks flopping over his eyes. When he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her through his eyelashes, smiling softly at her to let her know he caught her staring. He shifted his gaze to her hand, hoping to hide the rosy blush creeping up on the apples of his cheeks, although he did so quick enough to miss her doing the same.

It was often that Luke got flustered when he was near her, and, even if he was very skilled at hiding it (at least from her), he never seemed to notice that she nearly always did the exact same thing. Every time he caught her staring, he felt his heart jump a little: it pleased him to know that she admired him, that she trusted him, that she cared for him. Whenever she would display any sort of affection towards him, he would feel a warm and tingly sensation spreading from his heart and tummy all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Luke was hopeful; most of the time he thought he was naive for believing a girl as wonderful and headstrong as Y/N could ever want a guy like him, so fragile and sensitive. He thought, no, he knew, that she was truly gorgeous, intelligent and strong-willed, and he also knew that she deserved much better than him, but he still wanted to make her happy and never once doubted his feelings for her.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, sensing his mind wandering.

"Not much. Just..." He hesitated to finish his sentence. "...thinking about Ben. I wish I could have done something about it."

"Believe me, I do, too," she said sadly, apparently not seeing through his lie. "I miss him a lot. I can't believe I was so stupid to lose him right after I had found him again."

"Yeah, I know. He was important to you, wasn't he?" He asked tentatively, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the uninjured areas of her hand.

"He really was. When I was a child, I adored him. When I got in trouble, I always ran to hide behind his robes, and he smiled down at me a fondness that my parents had never looked at me with. I wanted nothing more than to be his Padawan," she sighed. "But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it?"

"I'm so sorry... I wish I had known," Luke said, smiling sympathetically. "But Obi-Wan or not, you turned out a better Jedi than I could ever be."

She smiled sincerely at him, appreciating the compliment that came from his heart, "You're really sweet, Luke. I bet you'll make a wonderful Jedi knight, too."

He giggled shyly, averting his gaze from her once again. He thanked her in a soft, shy voice that she found so adorable she could have melted into a puddle. "There, you're all set." He said as he bandaged her hand, tying up the loose end of the gauze on her palm.

"Thanks, Luke." She said, ruffling his hair.

"You're always welcome." He replied, hiding the blush rising to his face.

In a bout of courage, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing their cheeks together. He froze for a split second before wrapping his own around her waist, pulling her closer to him and inhaling her signature coconut scent. He could get drunk on her sweet smell that made him feel at peace. As she felt him get more comfortable, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She began to tickle his open armpits, making him yelp and squirm beneath her.

"Y/N, stop!" He laughed as she straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor with one hand and using the other to tickle his stomach. He squealed and giggled, trying to get out of her grip, and as soon as she loosened her hold on his wrists, he flipped them on the sparring mat, landing her with a soft 'thump'. He threw one leg over the other side of her waist and pinned her wrists over her head in the same fashion as her. He aimed for her sides and she squealed, turning into a giggling, squirmy mess.

"Luke! You copycat!" She shrieked through her laughter.

He laughed, too, drinking in the pure joy of the moment, and noticed her face was red from happiness and laughter, as well as his, he assumed.

"Luke, Y/N, I need you to- oh..." Leia stumbled in, cutting herself off as she saw her two friends sharing an intimate moment. "Am I interrupting something?" She smirked.

Suddenly, they were both very aware of their position. Luke's eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat, messily getting up and fixing his hair. He helped Y/N off the ground and she dusted herself off, looking to Leia, who still had that knowing smile plastered on her face. "No! No, you're not."

"Yeah... anyway," she dragged the first word out in suspicion. "We have an impromptu meeting to be at in fifteen minutes, just enough time for you to get changed."

"All right, we'll see you there." Luke said, smiling politely at his friend and leaving the room. Y/N soon followed suit, as their rooms were fairly close, in fact opposite each other.

Leia rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. It was clear as day that the two of them were enamoured with one another, everyone could see it except them. She could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other, in how gentle they were with each other. They'd share so many little moments like this, yet they'd never make a move. It was infuriating, to say the least.

Leia walked out of the room and through the halls of the rebel base. She bumped into someone on her way.

"Woah, Your Highness, what's got you so upset?" Han asked, nearly sarcastically, but she chose to answer honestly.

"I just walked in on Luke and Y/N having a tickle fight," she said. "It annoys the life out of me when they act like a couple but they don't even see that they actually like each other."

"Ugh, I know. It's painfully obvious to everyone but them." He agreed.

"Hang on. Are you agreeing with me, Han Solo?" She said, not waiting for his response. "Since this is the first thing we actually agree about, care to do something about it?"

He raised his eyebrows, interested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, nothing too serious, just a bit of messing with them. Maybe they'll stop being so dense." She said.

"Good idea," he nodded, giving her credit. "We start after the meeting."

"Deal."

...

Y/N smiled softly at Luke and closed the door behind her, exhausted from the meeting. She huffed a breath and looked for a shirt and pants in her wardrobe, but couldn't find a sweater for the life of her. She looked through all of her room for her favorite green sweater, under the bed, behind the door, even beneath her covers, but there was no trace of it.

She hated that it disappeared, but she decided she was going to look for it after she's had a proper rest after a two-hour-long meeting. She knocked on Luke's door, who opened it and smiled softly at her. "Hi."

"Hi. I can't find my green sweater, do you have one I could borrow?" She dared to ask. It was an intimate gesture, surely, but she wanted that nap, and the only thing that was more comfy to sleep in than her favorite sweater was a warm sweater with Luke's soothing smell all over it. "Assuming you don't need it, of course."

"Um, sure," he said, rummaging through his clothes. "Here."

He handed her a white hoodie with no zipper. It was so soft and warm, it made her cheeks flush in anticipation. She pulled it over her head and sighed at the feeling. The sleeves were a bit bigger on her, and she loved it. It felt like a warm and loving embrace. It felt like his embrace.

"Thank you, Luke, you're a sweetheart," she said and he blushed furiously, but she didn't have the energy to notice. "I'll be taking a nap now, but if you need a favor, ask me, okay?"

"Okay," his voice cracked. "Have a good nap."

She left his room with a thankful smile.

She snuggled up in her bed, wrapping her arms around herself, as if it was Luke hugging her. She breathed in his smell, making her sigh in content. The warm feeling and the soothing scent lulled her to sleep quickly enough, with the image of Luke holding her and warming her up with his body heat.

...

After letting her borrow his hoodie, Luke felt much closer to her. He fell harder for her, if that was even possible. And when he saw her snuggled up in his clothes, his brain went blank and he forgot his own name for a moment. He wanted to hug her, to warm her up and fall asleep beside her, then to wake up next to her and wake her with a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.

He pushed the thought to the back of his head as he saw her heading for the same closet he was. "Hi."

"Hi. How was your nap?"

"Best nap I've ever had. Your hoodie is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. I'll give it back right after I grab some stuff here."

"No, no, you keep it."

She felt her heart warm at his offer. "Luke, you love this hoodie..."

But I love you more. "But you're happy. And that makes me happy."

She smiled lovingly at him, "Thank you so much. Really."

"You're always welcome..." He said, hesitant to finish his sentence. "...starflower."

She turned to him and her smile widened at the nickname, a blush rising to her cheeks. She got on her tip-toes to try to reach an old book on the highest shelf, straining to try to grab it. Luke noticed her struggle and moved up to her, and with a little jump, he caught the book and handed it to her. She smiled thankfully at him and kissed his cheek softly, making him blush.

Their sweet moment was interrupted by the lock clicking. "Oh, damn it!"

Luke tried to force the door open but failed, and when he turned around to face her, he noticed how incredibly close they were. His chest nearly touched hers, and he could feel her breathing pattern as whenever her chest expanded, he could feel it brush his own.

"This is... convenient." She said, making him chuckle.

"Yeah... sorry I didn't pay more attention."

"It's not your fault."

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Y/N shifted into a more comfortable position, accidentally brushing over Luke's hips. He blushed and bit his lip at the contact. "Sorry!"

"It's- it's fine..." His voice cracked. He felt his pants tighten and he blushed a dark red, sweating a copious amount. He was already super embarrassed and ashamed about accidentally getting a hard-on, and he was fairly sure he'd die if she saw.

He shifted away to try to put some distance between them, but accidentally stepped on her foot. She flinched backwards and fell over. Luke swiftly caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. He pulled her up gently and his forehead was nearly touching hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the closeness between them. He wanted to brush the hair away from her face and kiss her until she was breathless, but he just didn't have the courage.

How ironic: Luke Skywalker, the man who destroyed the Death Star, couldn't strap on a pair and make a move on a girl. It was laughable, really.

He decided to test the waters by sliding his hands down to her hips in a featherlight touch. She felt something brushing her thigh and her eyes widened as she realized Luke was turned on by the situation, and decided to tease him a bit.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this your lightsaber or are you just really happy to see me?" She asked, a teasing edge to her voice as he tried to stutter out a response.

"I- I- I... uh, um... I..." He stammered, trying to think of a way to explain himself without sounding like a pervert. "I'm so, so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to, it was an accident... I really hope you could forgive me but if you don't want to talk to me ever again, I understand, I..."

He looked so cute, flustered about something that simple. She couldn't really see him all that well, but she was sure he was blushing the darkest red possible.

"Relax, Luke, I'm just teasing you," she giggled. "It's normal. It could have happened to any guy."

"Wha..? Really?"

"Of course. Honestly, I'm a little flattered." She smiled slyly, making him whimper in embarrassment.

"Could you do me a favor?" He asked. "Could you maybe... not tell anyone about this?"

"I'd never, Luke," she cupped his cheek and gently moved his face to make him meet her eyes. "It's going to be our secret."

He smiled softly at her. "Thanks for being so understanding."

Bravely, she leaned up and kissed his nose. "No problem."

Just as Luke started to gather enough courage to lean down to kiss her, the lock started rattling. The two snapped their heads in the direction of the door as it opened to reveal Han and Chewbacca on the other side.

"What in the Maker's name are you two doing in here?"

Chewie growled suggestively.

"Shush, Fuzzball, someone locked us in here." Luke dismissed.

He growled again in an attempt to sass Luke.

...

Y/N thought back to her moment with Luke as she sat with her friends on the Falcon. The hopes of him feeling the same way about her rekindled when he got aroused, but she was almost sure that any guy would have been turned on by the closeness in that sort of situation.

Luke surprised himself at how comfortable he was with her after that awkward situation. Maybe if he was braver and not that hopeless, his arousal could have taken the status quo to the next level. After all, if there was anyone he wanted to be touched by, kissed by and held by, it was her. Everything from her soulful eyes to her intelligence, and even her plush lips made him melt-

"Kid, snap out of it!" Han called, making Luke do a double-take on the controls of the Falcon.

"Huh- what?" He blubbered, blushing.

"Could you scooch, please?" Leia asked and Luke complied, sliding onto the chair next to Y/N. He gave her a shining smile and looked at the controls. "Thanks."

Y/N reciprocated his grin, thinking back on the cuddly feeling of his hoodie cocooning her and lulling her to sleep.

"Excuse me..." Leia said and leaned over to Y/N's area to pull a lever. Luke leaned to the side and felt the back of his head rest against a soft cushioning.

"Um, Luke..." Y/N said hesitantly and Luke's eyes widened when he realized he had leaned his head on her breasts.

"Oh, stars-" he said and swiftly got up from his seat, red as a tomato and paced back and forth. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose! I would never do anything like this to you on purpose! Not that I don't find you attractive enough to- I need to lie down..."

"Kid, for fuck's sake, stop talking." Han said and Y/N chuckled at Luke's antics, shaking her head fondly. She was certainly flustered to have his head on her chest, but him trying to explain himself was too funny not to laugh at.

Meanwhile, Leia watched the scene unfold, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She gave Han a side eye, to which he shook his head in exasperation. They had set him up so perfectly and he still managed to screw it up. "All right, I'm going to go lie down. And make sure Luke didn't die of self-loathing." She waved goodbye to her friends and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Leia looked at Han, clenching her jaw.

"This isn't working. Why isn't this working?" She asked.

"I have no idea. They can't even seem to acknowledge that they both enjoyed the closest thing they ever had to sexual contact." He rolled his eyes.

"I think it's time to pull out the big guns." Leia said and Han tilted his head in curiosity.

"What do you suggest?"

"You have to come on to Y/N. And don't you stop until Luke is red with anger and wants to hit you."

"All right." He patronized, laughing at the thought of Luke trying to punch him.

...

Luke always got along with Han, but right now every word that came out of his mouth made him clench his fists, knuckles turning white.

He couldn't believe he was actually flirting with Y/N.

After encouraging him to make a move all this time, he felt betrayed and fairly angry that he was going after the love of his life even if he clearly had a thing for Leia. He didn't care if he was doing it to prove a point or he was sincerely into her, but he hated it nonetheless.

It started out small, with innocent touches paired with "trouble never looked so goddamn fine", or "I'd do anything for a woman with a knife", all of which made Luke more confused than jealous. But as it escalated into more blunt compliments and pick-up lines, he could barely holding together. At first maybe he chewed on his cheek and pretended not to listen, then he started avoiding eye contact with either of them, and he currently grumbled or growled lowly at everything he said. He was a little relieved to see her sass him in response to his comments, though, his grip on the arm of the chair faltering slightly whenever she responded in a sarcastic way.

Until he had had enough.

"Smile is the second best thing you can do with your lips."

Luke clenched his jaw so hard it could have snapped clean. He struggled to control his angry, shaky breathing as he got up and grabbed Han's arm to pull him to another room.

"Okay, what the fuck, Han!?"

"What?" He said, trying his best to hide the smirk of satisfaction that threatened to creep up on his lips.

"Cut it out. You know I like her, why are you doing this?!" He snapped.

"Maybe I recently saw the light," he shrugged. "Look, you're clearly nowhere close to making a move, so why shouldn't others take a shot?"

Luke opened his mouth to retort, and then closed it. He had a point. If he didn't do something about it, he was going to lose her. And he couldn't afford to lose her to Han. If she was going to end up with someone other than him, he'd prefer that she end up with Leia.

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the room.

He rushed to open a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of alcohol, chugging a questionable amount of it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm clearly not drunk enough to do this," he said, pulling away from the bottle. "Yum, mouthwash that burns."

Han bit back a laugh as Luke clumsily walked to Y/N and pulled her away to speak in private.

"Luke? What's going on?" She asked, not even pointing out his apparent intoxication.

"I can't- I can't do this anymore, Y/N!" He said and her brows furrowed with confusion. "I can't stand to see Han treat you like this so forgive me for going to such drastic measures to prove a point!"

"What are you-" she was cut off by Luke storming over and crashing his lips on hers with such force that she stumbled back. As his action registered in her brain, she melted into the heavenly sensation. She ran a hand through his blonde locks, earning a small gasp from him into the kiss.

As she pulled away, he chased her lips for a split second before slowly opening his eyes, half-lidded gaze shifting to the string of saliva still connecting them. "I'm sorry, I- it was a momentary lapse. But I like you. I like you a lot. And I can't stand the thought of you being with Han. And I just wanted to tell you before you make a choice."

"Oh, Luke..." she said, smiling brightly as she caressed his cheek lovingly. "I don't like Han. He's a great friend but all those pickup lines were scaring the living Force out of me."

He giggled softly, though his face dropped at her lack of response. "I... I get it." He said quietly, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'll leave you alone."

He turned around and walked to the door, shoulders slouched in defeat and she shook her head in fondness, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "Luke, you adorable, oblivious idiot."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled their noses together before giving him a softer, sweeter kiss. This time there was no desperation, no urge, no rush. Just the need to make him feel loved and make him see that she doesn't want anyone else but him.

"I, um-" he cleared his throat. "I liked that very much."

"I like you very much." She said, pecking his cheek repeatedly. He giggled like a little boy, blushing. "You seriously thought I'd pick anyone over you? And that the first person would be Han?"

"No, I thought the first person would be Leia," he said and Y/N laughed loudly. "But, yeah, pretty much."

"Normally I'd say that's not true but Leia is gorgeous," she joked and Luke laughed softly, proud to have made her laugh. "And by the way, the list goes you, Leia, literally anyone in the world, and then Han."

He smiled at her, moved by the comment and amused by the joke, and brought her closer to him.

"Why am I after Leia?"

"Because she's so much hotter than you!" She defended.

"Thanks, Y/N!" The princess called, making Luke laugh and Y/N join in.

"You wound me, Y/N." Han said in mock offense.

"Are you guys together yet?" Leia asked, walking in. Luke wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, smiling proudly as he pulled her closer. She smiled too, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You are?!"

They both nodded, happiness flooding every single inch of them.

"That's amazing! I'm so happy for you!" She said, hugging Y/N and pecking her cheek. "Took you long enough. The way you looked at her without doing anything was becoming very frustrating." She hugged Luke and ruffled his hair.

He rolled his eyes and turned to his new girlfriend, pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm glad I did."

#star wars #star wars x reader #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker #han solo #princess leia

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

Note

Hi I loved your Pretty when you cry series read it twice already and you did a amazing job 🥰 I was wondering if you could write the reader from that series being catcalled by some creep and dark biker Bucky witnesses it and completely losing it and defending her and maybe it ends with some fluff I hope you have a lovely day or night ❤️

knight in leather armor

pretty when you cry series masterlist

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: harassment. violence. not much else. this blog and all of my fics are always 18+ only.

words: 2.3k

notes: thank you so much for sending this in, sorry it's taken so long! i hope you like it. 🖤 and thank you so much for your kind words!! 🥰🥹

as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. thank you in advance for reading!

You huffed as you pushed out past the crowd of drunken people gathered by the door of the bar. You were exhausted and ready to get home as soon as you could. Your car was at the shop so you didn't have a ride of your own, but Bucky assured you he would be there to get you right at midnight.. It was now half past twelve and he had yet to show up.

But you couldn't wait inside anymore, the air was stifling and you were overheated as the bar was nearing full capacity.

Though you were annoyed, a part of you was also starting to get worried. He hadn't called or texted to let you know he was running late, so where the hell else could he be.

Walking out into the cold of the midwinter night, you were only greeted by more bodies crowding the streets. You rolled your eyes as someone bumped into you, not a care in the world in their drunken state. You walked down a bit to get away from the groups taking up space in front of the entrance and pulled out your phone to call Bucky and see what was up.

As you held your phone and picked your head up to look around you, you felt eyes on you. A man with a buzzcut and dark blue eyes was leering at you from maybe 10 feet away. He was tall and though you couldn't be sure with the way his clothes concealed his physique, he seemed to be a bit burly. You didn't like the way he was looking at you and walked further down, pushing aside the wave of anxiety that was beginning to rise. As your eyes darted down the other side of the street, they landed on the familiar sleek black SUV parked down the way and then found Bucky as he stood next to it, a scowl on his face while he was listening to someone on the other end of his phone. When you saw him, you immediately let out a sigh of relief. But when you saw him open his mouth to respond to whoever it was he was talking to, you realized why he hadn't called or texted. He was clearly in an argument over the phone and you wondered how long he had been there.

You briefly considered giving him another minute or so, but you were so tired and the weight of that guy's stare was still on you as you stood under the last light on the street. You looked back quickly and when you met the man's eye, you decided you didn't want to wait and started walking down the darkened street to get to Bucky.

"Hey," the stranger called from behind you. You almost stopped in your step but kept yourself walking and acted like you didn't hear him.

Your heart rate picked up when you realized the guy was now following behind you. He wasn't necessarily close, but close enough to make you uncomfortable.

"Hey, where you goin'?"

He was closer now as you silently cursed the rows of cars lining the streets that had forced Bucky to park so far down.

"Home," you answered shortly without looking back at the man. The very slight slur of his words let you know he was probably drunk.

"Home?" he questioned. You weren't too far from Bucky now, but he still hadn't seen you as he was snarking at whoever was on the phone. "You need a ride, baby?"

You swallowed the response that was sitting at the tip of your tongue and kept moving. You were coming up on Bucky, all you had to do was walk just a little further and then cross the street. Right when you were about to step off the curb and sidle between the small space between the parked cars lining the sidewalk to cross the street, the man behind you grabbed your arm roughly.

You instinctively pushed his hand off of you as you turned to him incredulously. His large hand then landed on your ass as he groped you. "What the fuck are you doing?! Don't touch me!" you seethed as you tried to shove him away from you. His voice was deep and rough as he spoke, leaning closer to you and attempting to grab at you again.

"Stay away from me," you seethed as you backed up into the street.

"You need a ride, I'll give you the ride of your life, babe."

"What the fuck did you just say to her?" Bucky snarled as he was suddenly behind you, startling you as he pulled you away from the man and stepped in front of you. You could literally feel the rage rolling off of him as his eyes burned into the drunken stranger, his jaw set and nostrils flaring.

"Hey, man, I was just offering her a ride," the man slurred, his hands raised up in the air in faux innocence. You grabbed Bucky's hand and tried to pull him away but he didn't budge.

"Let's just go, come on," you tugged at him but instead of listening to you, he handed you the keys instead.

"Get in the car,"

"Bucky,"

"Did he touch you?" he spoke through grit teeth, his eyes never leaving the man.

"...Buck-"

"Did he touch you," he reiterated sharply.

"Yes," you breathed quietly as you could. You saw him pull his arm back and grabbed onto it tightly to stop him before he swung at the guy, "Bucky! I'm fine. He's drunk, he's being stupid. Let's just go."

You could feel the tension running through him as he stared down the man. If looks could kill...

It took a second but he finally let his arm lax just the slightest as you pulled him back.

"You're gettin' real fuckin' lucky tonight, you piece of shit."

Bucky finally turned around to face the same direction as you as you walked toward the car. You were relieved you wouldn't be witness to whatever Bucky was about to do as you unlocked the door with the key fob as you got closer. Thankful you were able to get Bucky to walk away, especially when he was already fuming, you let out a breath of relief for the second time that night. All you wanted to do was get home and relax with him until you feel asleep, all too eager to push past the encounter and pretend it didn't happen. You could already see yourself melting into his embrace and the stress you were just feeling was easing at the thought. Bucky was here and you were safe and that's all you wanted to focus on. You were already deciding your questions about who he was talking to and your complaints about having to wait around the overly crowded bar for half an hour would wait until tomorrow.

But as you approached the car, walking around to get in the passenger's seat, the sound of the man's voice from across the street had you stopping in your tracks, eyes squeezing shut as you exhaled heavily, not needing to look behind you to know Bucky was already walking back over the second the man opened his mouth. There was literally nothing you could do. He'd brought Bucky's wrath upon himself.

"If you're so worried about the slut you shouldn't be letting her walk the streets like that anyway. We can all see that ass and those tits on full display, she's just asking for attention. Bitch is begging to be touched."

Bucky didn't say a word as he walked straight to him, each word leaving the guy's mouth only adding to Bucky's ire. All he could see was red. It had taken nearly everything in him to walk away when you were holding onto him but he wasn't going to be able to stop himself now.

The stranger watched as Bucky approached him and didn't seem the slightest bit worried. Either he was too drunk to realize what was about to happen, or just stupidly confident Bucky wasn't actually going to do anything. You pitied the guy just a bit as you shook your head. The second he was close enough, Bucky swung his fist directly at the guy's face.

The man fell back instantly as Bucky stayed on him. He was dazed, but Bucky slapped his face harshly and forced him to meet his eye.

"Look at me," he growled, "you say one more goddamn thing about her, you so much as look in her direction ever fucking again, I will fucking kill you, do you understand me?"

Bucky shook the man as he blinked up at him in apparent shock.

"I said do you fucking understand me?" he bellowed.

The man nodded his head weakly as Bucky let go of his face, his head hitting the cement as he groaned. You thought that'd be the end of it, but instead, Bucky delivered another punch to the man's face as you cringed away, not wanting to see it. You pulled the door open and got inside the car, keeping an eye on Bucky from the tinted windows to make sure he was going to walk away. He stood up, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, the aggression and anger still pouring off of him as he crossed back over to the car, leaving the man dazed and bloody on the ground.

Instead of getting into the driver's seat, he walked to your door and opened it, his eyes scanning you up and down quickly as his hand found your face. He searched your eyes before speaking.

"Are you okay?"

You placed your hand over his as you pulled it away from your cheek. "Are you?" you asked as you lightly ran your thumb over his split knuckles.

"Answer me," he said sharply. When your eyes narrowed at his tone, he instantly softened as he squeezed your hand. "Are you okay?"

"I told you, I'm fine. More than I can say for that guy,"

"Deserved a hell of a lot worse,"

"Can we go, please," you asked. He was clearly still agitated and you wanted to get him home, or at least just away from the bar, before anything else could happen.

He let go of you and shut your door, walking around the hood of the car before he got in and took off.

"I'm sorry I was late. Got caught up on the phone with Stark, didn't realize how much time had passed. I was gonna go inside and get you."

"You don't have to apologize," you shook your head, "you were still there."

You saw his fingers tighten against the wheel as he drove, his jaw clenched in irritation. You reached your hand over and held it out as you stared at him expectantly. He looked over at you and his gaze softened as he gave you his right hand, continuing to steer with just his left.

Bucky didn't so much as flinch as you gently prodded at his hand. "Does it hurt?" you asked.

"'M fine, sweetheart."

You accepted that and turned his hand over, beginning to lightly trace the lines of his palm with your fingers as you leaned back into the seat, turning your body so you were facing him more. You could feel the tension leaving him as you touched him.

"Thank you," you said softly, looking up from your intertwined hands to him. "For defending my honor," you smirked teasingly.

He huffed a laugh, a crooked smile forming on his lips.

"Always, princess."

"You think the top is too revealing?" you questioned as you looked down at the black v neck long sleeve you wore. It showed a hint of cleavage, but it wasn't crazy - at least you hadn't thought it was.

"You could've been walking down the street without a shirt at all - he shouldn't have put his hands on you - he shouldn't have said a single fucking word to you," he snipped. "But no, it's not."

"Yeah, I didn't think it was," you mused, still playing with his hand in yours. It was as much a comfort to you as it was to him.

----------------------------------------

You finally got home and immediately went upstairs to change into your pajamas. Soon as you were comfy, you wandered back downstairs. You found Bucky in the kitchen and came up behind him, wrapping your arms around him as you pressed your face against his solid back.

"I love you," you murmured against him. He turned around in your embrace and wrapped his arms around you in return, leaning down to place a kiss on your head.

"I love you, too," he said.

"Thank you for being there,"

"You don't have to thank me, doll,"

"I want to," you said pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him. "You're always there, looking out for me. I feel...safe. When you're around. Even tonight, I was obviously freaked by that guy, but I knew you were close and I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me. So, thank you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips gently to your own, kissing you softly as you squeezed him closer.

"I'll never let anything happen to," he spoke against your lips. "If I'd been paying attention, he'd never have even gotten so close to you."

"Stop," you admonished. "I'm okay...tired. It was a long night I'd rather forget about. I really just wanna lay down with you," you said as you tugged him to walk with you back upstairs.

"Yeah?" he questioned, earning a demure nod from you in return. He smirked as he picked you up effortlessly while you squealed lightly in surprise, arms winding around his neck. You smiled as he held you tightly, breathing him in as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "To bed we go, then. I'll help you forget all about tonight, sweetheart.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #pwyc series #soft!dark bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky x curvy!reader #biker!bucky x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #biker!bucky x plus size!reader #pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader #dark!biker bucky #bucky barnes drabble #vllowe #asks

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weaveandwood · 4 months

Note

Writing prompt - You and Gale are in the markets - What happens next.

I'm sorry if these annoy you.

These never annoy me! I love writing them. I've had some pretty intense writer's block this week, and I think this one helped me work through it. Happy Saturday!

NSFW 18+ Word Count: 2200 CN: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Gale x Named Female Tav

“What do you think? The sweet roll stand next?” Ora asked, her hands full of boxes and bags from the shopping they had just finished up at the Waterdeep market. She had been home for a month, a whole glorious month, and they had settled into something comfortable. She hadn’t gotten that far off look in her eye at all this extended break, and Gale’s anxieties about waking up to find her gone without a trace had disappeared.

It was an unseasonably warm fall day - not that Gale was complaining. His wife flourished in the sunshine, and though she was never really one to show a lot of her skin in public, when she got warm she tended to wear a top without sleeves. This one had thin straps and was deliciously low cut, showing off one of his favorite parts of her body - though if he were being honest, everything about her body was his favorite. It was all he could do not to stare, and she had caught him more than once in just the last hour. Gale, eyes up here, she had said, playfully bumping into him as they walked down the crowded street. I’m sorry, you are just so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off of you. You can’t blame a husband for admiring his wife, he had replied in an attempt to save himself from further teasing.

He held some of the boxes and watched her make small talk with the vendor, who had become fast friends with her once she was home more regularly. She asked about her latest adventure, how her poor husband was faring without her, if she had tasted any better rolls in any of her travels. “Never, I always look forward to getting these ones, best in Faerun!” Ora responded with her sincere smile that lit up her face and made Gale fall deeper in love, if that was even possible. Still, it was impossible to not notice from his vantage point behind her how her leggings hugged every curve, the years of adventuring honing her body into a masterpiece. One that he was finding he needed to get his hands on. Soon.

Ora turned around then, a small box of rolls in hand and caught Gale with a dark look in his eyes. One she recognized well, one she loved being on the receiving end of.

“See something you like, sir?” She smiled at him as he moved his eyes slowly up her body, taking her in, committing her to memory just as he did every single time he looked at her. He closed the distance between them, leaning down and whispering in her ear.

“It is taking all my self control right now not to take you into a dark side street and take these maddening clothes off of you and show you just how much I like what I see.”

A sharp intake of breath. She liked when he spoke to her like this, detailing the things he wanted to do to her. “Hmm, it’s really too bad Waterdeep doesn’t really have dark side streets at midday, I would be quite willing to go along with your request. You know, it’s a shame I don’t wear dresses really, I see how they can be convenient for this kind of activity. What are you going to do about this problem?” She smiled, a devilish look on her face.

Gods, he loved her.

“The tower is much closer than the cabin from here…” he trailed off. They hadn’t spent much time in the tower since that third Midwinter Festival when everything went wrong. Still, they were almost at the end of the market. “Or there’s the inn a street over that we could rent for the night. Repeat our second Midwinter?” He remembered that night fondly - the night with the glowing rabbits. The night he was so nervous she wouldn’t show up. The night she did, and made him believe that they could be real again.

“Let’s go to the corner and then you can cast Dimension Door to get us to the tower?” she said, surprising Gale who completely forgot in his desire that he could essentially get them anywhere he could see. Usually, he preferred to take a leisurely stroll through his beloved city. “Quickly,” she added. This was not the occasion for a leisurely stroll.

A short, dizzying time later, they stood in front of the tower, Gale unlocking the warded door. As it opened, he let Ora enter first. He shut the door behind them and put the boxes on the entry table before grabbing her hand, spinning her around and kissing her deeply.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since we walked into the market.” He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. “You are addictive.” He reached down to her top, untying the lace keeping it tight against her body, loosening it slowly. He trailed kisses from her lips, to her cheek, to her neck. He felt her breathing pick up as he ran his fingers along them hem of her top, slipping under it and lifting it over her head. He stepped back, looking at her - this woman who was so beautiful, so fearless, so sexy, and somehow his. She made eye contact with him as she kicked off her boots, then quickly pulled down her leggings and underwear, leaving her naked in the entryway of the tower.

He pounced.

His hands were everywhere. He honestly needed more hands, his desire to feel every inch of her skin was so great he contemplated conjuring a few before deciding against it. For now. He pressed her against the wall, kissing her with a fervor reminiscent of when he was a younger man, an apprentice at Blackstaff, eager to impress, eager to bed equally eager classmates.Their tongues slid against each other as Ora reached between them to unbutton his linen shirt. He quickly shrugged it off, tossing it across the room.

“Gods, you’re so...perfect” she said, looking at him in wonder as though it was her first time seeing him. As though she didn’t say the exact same thing the night before as they made love in front of the fireplace in the cabin. His lean, athletic build, though not as muscular as he once was when they met, the fine smattering of hair across his chest, down his stomach, leading even further down his body, and his gorgeous skin tone ticked all her boxes. He was everything she desired. She kissed his neck and he unbuttoned his linen pants and quickly let them pool to the floor along with his underwear before kicking them out of the way.

He reached up to her breasts, the objects of his desire all morning. He paid them proper attention with his hands before bending down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it lightly, feeling it get hard before moving to the other one. He flicked his tongue over them, her soft moans only steering him onward as he kissed his way down her body as he got on his knees in front of her. He stopped at each small scar on her stomach - some from her times as a Scout, some from their own adventure, some newer. Each scar was given reverence and appreciation for healing and not taking her from him. She looked down at him, his own personal goddess, and he was here to worship.

She gasped as he placed one hand on her stomach, the other lifting her leg to drape over his shoulder. He looked up at her and with a flattened tongue, licked her from her entrance to her swollen bundle of nerves. She laid her hands on his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she adjusted her angle, using both him and the wall for support. He continued licking, tasting her, humming softly against her soft skin, slick with her own arousal as she moaned softly, faint echoes reverberating through the entryway with its high ceiling. She sounded like music.

“You taste so sweet, my love,” he said as he looked up at her, leaning his head against her thigh that was resting on his shoulder. He gently lowered her thigh from his shoulder, kissing it gently. He kissed her hip bone, then back up her stomach. His tongue dragged a path from her breasts up to her neck, and she felt him pressing against her, hard with want. “But now, I need to feel you around me,” he said softly into her ear, his warm breath sending tingles through her body. “Shall we pretend we’re in that dark side street now, my love?” He whispered the spell for darkness near her ear, a faint purple glow emanated from his hands as he channeled the Weave, his movements confident and assured as the light disappeared from the entryway.

“You do know I can still see, right?” Ora laughed as kissed him, the elven side of her heritage giving her darkvision, able to make out Gale as if he was bathed in a dim grey light.

“Well, we will have to remedy that,” he said, his hand caressing her face lightly, feeling the shape of it. Running the pad of his thumb over her soft cheek, tracing its way down the deep scar he loved, though she had been a little self conscious about it when their relationship had transitioned from flirtations to something more. She was so fierce. He put his hands on her waist, turning her around to face the wall. He kissed the back of her neck, hearing her breath catch. He pressed against her, his hardness pressed into her delicious curves.

“I need you, Gale. Now,” she moaned as he flicked the tip of her ear with his tongue, driving her mad. She arched her back, pressing her hips back against him as his hands roamed over her backside. He kissed her shoulder as he wrapped one hand around himself, pulling her hips back slightly with the other to get a good angle as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Then you shall have me,” he whispered as he pressed into her, slowly at first - he always loved the feeling of her giving around him as he entered her, her warm body enveloping him. He moaned as she took him as far as he would go, fully seated inside her. “Gods, Ora, you…” he lost his train of thought as he pulled his hips back and thrusted into her again. And again. And again.

“Have I made…the verbose Gale Dekarios…speechless?” She panted as he pressed her into the wall, her chest flat against it. Her hands braced against the wall to give them both a little leverage and support. She was completely his for the taking.

His arm wrapped around her waist, his hand pressing flat against her stomach to hold her close to him, his chest against her back. He preferred being able to see her face while fucking her, but holding her body tight against his was nearly as good. He moved his hips faster, the sound of their pants and moans echoing through the high ceilings of the entryway.

“You take the words from my mouth whenever I am inside you. You render me quite incapable of coherent thought.” He held on to her tighter, one of his hands lowering down her stomach, reaching between her legs to rub her sensitive clit, to help her find her release as he felt his own approaching. “I love you,” he moaned as he kissed her shoulder, sucking it lightly.

She called out his name, her breathing labored as her knees buckled slightly. He dug his fingers into the soft skin of her abdomen to support her better as he felt her starting to tighten around him. “That’s it, Ora, come for me. Please, let me feel you come around me,” he panted, fucking her hard, his hips snapping against her with each deep thrust, a fire pooling low in his abdomen.

“Gods!” she cried out, arching her back more as she reached her peak. He felt her pulse and flutter around him, sending him crashing over his own precipice. He closed his eyes and threw his head back as he felt himself fill her up, his own cries joining with hers to form a beautiful chorus.

Spent, he pulled out of her, kissing the back of her neck, her earlobe, her shoulders. He turned her around and pressed her back against the wall again before kissing her deeply.

“I love you,” he said before he channeled the Weave again, bringing light back into the entryway so he could look upon his love. He tucked a strand of hair that had worked its way loose behind her ear, smiling as he did. She smiled back at him, and his heart swelled.

“I love you, too.”

He kissed her deeply, then took her hand, leading her up the stairs to the bedroom, to the bed they once shared. They stayed there all night, making love in it twice more before the sun rose the next morning and they went back to their cabin.

#my writing #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #gale fanfiction #woodweave #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria

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ladamedusoif · 9 months

Text

Christmas Market

A Merry Fic-Mas: December 18

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow @ladameecrit for my writing updates!

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader

Word Count: 450

Warnings: References to smut; limited strong language; no use of Y/N; no physical references to Reader.

Rating: Mature

A/N: This is intended as a follow-up to Hot Chocolate, earlier in the series.

The steam rising off his hot spiced cider fogs Marcus’s glasses, and you laugh as he wipes the lenses clean with a gloved finger.

“You know that’s liable to scratch the glass, right?”

He shrugs and bats his eyelashes, the picture of innocence. “And what if I just couldn’t bear to go without seeing you, even for a moment?”

You roll your eyes affectionately, sipping from your own mug. “You’re such a charmer, Marcus Pike.”

***

You never thought you’d thank the universe for a snowstorm that stranded you in the city and forced you to accept your colleague’s offer of a place to sleep.

That said, the colleague in question was an extremely handsome, brown-eyed man with a smile that never failed to make you melt. And he’d made you the best hot chocolate you’d ever had in your life, that night.

And then, after making out on his couch, you’d had the best sex of your life.

Thank you, snowstorm.

Marcus wraps his arm around your waist and you reciprocate the gesture, feeling the texture of his favourite navy woollen pea coat, enjoying the solidness of his torso under the layers, feeling safe and content as you wander together through the holiday market in the large square near his apartment.

“It’s a year today,” Marcus says quietly as you admire a stall selling handmade candles.

“A year?”

“Since the snowstorm. Right?”

You smile coyly. “That’s right. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to mark this as our anniversary, though, or the day we decided this was more than just a one-off…”

He tilts his head in surprise, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “That was like, a week later, wasn’t it?”

As you nod, he leans in to kiss you slowly and softly, breaking away and making you whine at the loss of his plush, pink lips.

“So let’s take this date for our anniversary. Maybe this is embarrassing, but I kinda knew it was going to be more than a one-off as soon as I kissed you.”

You laugh and pull him flush to you with the lapels of his coat. “Same, baby. And if it had been a one-off, after the sex we had that night? I’d have been so angry.”

Marcus chuckles and reaches for your hand before resuming your carefree path through the market. The wood of the stalls is warm and homely, and the twinkling lights overhead lend the square a magical atmosphere. The air in the marketplace is heavy with the smell of cider, of hot chocolate, of sweet baked goods, mulled wine, grilled sausages, and roasting chestnuts. Overhead, the clear, midnight-blue sky crackles with midwinter frostiness - and a sense that anything was possible.

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

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rabbitenn · 11 months

Note

Hello. Can I request a Ryunosuke Tsunashi x reader where Ryu realizes his feelings and admits to them.. Thank you in advance!!!

P.S. I am very grateful to you for your work. I look forward to your new post with great joy every time.

TOUCH TOUCH TOUCH I WANT TO TELL YOU.

Because the words he speaks to you, are the very thoughts you haven’t voiced to him just yet.

ft. Tsunashi Ryunosuke x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

hello anony ! I’m so sorry this took so long, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you so much for requesting and for your kind words, I hope to keep writing stories you can continue to look forward to, mwah !

The realization hits him as icy snowflakes graze his skin.

Under the city lights of winter, you shine the brightest to him

Skipping along ahead of him you call out:

“Ryu… Come on!” You giggle, running up to him, your gloved hand tugging on his. “There’s food stalls over there!” You excitedly announce. “We should get some hot chocolate!” You smile up at him.

He regards you, those soft amber eyes of his catching the starlight hidden by the urban illumination.

A lovestruck smile curls up on his lips, shades of demure carmine tinting the idol’s tan cheeks.

You tilt your head to the side when he doesn’t move.

So cute. He thinks

“Ryu?” You call him, reaching up to cradle his face in between your palms. “Are you alright? Are you feeling cold?”

Certainly not with you holding his face like this.

He can’t tell you that now, however. You’re friends, for him to just blurt out the way you’ve become more than that…

He can’t risk it.

At least not yet.

So Ryunosuke clears his throat, trying to look as composed and relaxed as humanly possible with you looking at him with that expression full of tender concern.

“I-I’m alright.” He beams, warmth in the heart of a midwinter’s night. “Yes, let’s get you some of that chocolate.” He smiles.

You chuckle, holding onto his arm as you lead the way.

“You’re cute Ryu…” You let out, trailing off, perhaps more to yourself than to him.

As you make your way in between the multiple groups of friends and couples, he wonders, how long will he be able to keep his feelings to himself?

Little does he know, you feel the exact same way.

—

The rest of the night goes by with idle chatter and soft laughter, your building coming into view all too soon as you walk by Ryu’s side.

He wishes this was a real date, and that the good night he utters to you with a smile could be replaced by a gentle kiss instead.

But he can’t do that.

Ryunosuke lets out a sigh after your smile has disappeared behind your apartment’s door.

For how long can his heart endure this eternal dilemma?

Inside, you lean against the other side of the door, your heartbeat loud.

You called him cute.

You called your friend, who you very obviously have a crush on, cute.

Did you mess up? Does he think you’re weird now?

‘Calm down, [Y/n].’ You try telling yourself, taking in deep breaths. ‘You two had a good time, tasty food and the night was beautiful. Everything's okay…’

This could have very well been a date if you were brave enough to make your feelings more clear.

Heaving out a breath, you slide to the floor, sitting down against its warm wood.

As you text your friend Tsumugi about tonight, you can’t wait to meet up with Ryunosuke again.

—

“You’re late tonight.”

Is the statement that greets Ryu when he returns to his shared home.

The remark is laced with amusement, which shifts to a more serious tone when the owner of the voice adds: “You better not be exhausted at tomorrow’s practise.”

“Tenn, what are you? His mom?” A deeper tone chides TRIGGER’s center, the latter’s protests dying down as their leader continues the conversation. “So, how did your date go, Ryu?” Gaku asks, a brow raised knowingly.

“It wasn’t a date… Not yet at least…” Is Ryu’s response.

Tenn and Gaku look at each other knowingly, then at his friend.

“It’s true, guys… [Y/n] and I are just friends…” He hesitates for a moment, then goes on. “Well, at least I’m sure that’s the best… I realized…” A dusting of pink blooms across the idol’s cheeks. “Maybe… No. I do like them. More than a friend…”

His two friends regard him with matching grins.

“Have you told them that, Ryu?” Gaku questions.

Ryunosuke sighs.

“I haven’t… I’m not sure… What if they don’t feel the same?”

“Just don’t take advice from the guy who got rejected twice in the span of five minutes.” Tenn lets out.

“Hey!” Gaku glowers at him, but Tenn goes on.

“You should tell them, Ryu. At the very least, they deserve to know your true feelings, no? Even if they don’t reciprocate, they don’t seem like the type to not remain as friends afterwards.”

“You’re right.” The brown haired man smiles. “I’ll think of something, thank you guys.”

That night, as he lays in bed, Ryunosuke’s mind works a mile a minute, thinking up of a nice spot to take you when he makes his feelings known.

—

A glittery blue expanse extends by your side, the end of it merging into the cerulean and powder white of a clear afternoon’s stray clouds.

Waves gently lap against the light sand, their sound calming beneath the hustle and bustle of people walking by the boulevard parallel to the coastline.

If you didn’t know better, you would think you’re in early summer, with the sun high up and color and light filling everywhere you look.

Then again, when you were with Ryu, warmth had a habit of finding its way to your chest and cheeks.

You feel… so happy right now. As if things could only keep getting better from now on.

He feels at ease too.

Tranquil skies and gentle oceans always managed to encourage him, after all.

He has to tell you. How he feels. Today he has to tell you.

Molten sunshine eyes flit towards you, just to find your own stealing glances towards his hand.

A balmy salty breeze blows by, and with it, a warm sensation caresses Ryu’s skin when your hands brush against each other.

His own smile mirrors your own, neither of you intending to pull away when your hands touch again, and again, and one last time, before your pinky entwines with his.

You walk in silence, but, despite the anticipation your friend feels, it’s comfortable, as all things were with you.

The dazzling daylight takes on a warmer gilded hue as the sun begins descending from its zenith, the crowd beginning to dissipate as lunchtime nears.

You two reach a set of benches overlooking the sea, perennial leaves hanging from the brambles casting translucent shadows over them.

The both of you decide to take a moment to admire the scenery, leaning against the railing.

The gentleness of his baritone almost merges with the sunlit waves when he calls your name.

You turn towards him, facing him.

Those eyes of his, the color of autumnal equinoxes, sunbeams and golden leaves dancing in tune with the love songs Ryunosuke wishes could sing to you, dance with you.

“Can I… Can I tell you something?” Comes his question, shades of a sunset that’s still hours away beginning to tint around his cheekbones.

You give him a soft smile.

“Always, Ryu.” You utter.

“Okay…” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “I’ve realized that I…” He faces you, fully. If he’s confessing to you, he must do it properly. “[Y/n]. I like you. Not just as a friend. I like you romantically… And if you’d let me, I'd love to take you on a date, a proper one, as your boyfriend this time.”

Your gaze widens as you stand there, staring at him.

Did he just say he likes you? In the same way you like him?

So he returns your feelings, then.

A smile makes it to your face as you recall the conversation you had with Tsumugi over text the last time you and Ryu went out.

She was right, it seems. He really does like you.

“Ryu, aren’t we on a proper date right now, though?” Your eyes are bright when you look up at him, your hand finding his.

With a tender expression that rivals the cotton candy clouds gathering in the faraway horizon, he closes his eyes for a fleeting instant, focusing them on you when his eyelids flutter open again.

“I suppose we are.” He agrees, tone soft, barely above a whisper.

You scoot closer to him, head leaning against his chest, as his arms wrap around you comfortingly.

The sun begins its descent towards the glittering skyline.

It smiles as it watches the couple.

#idolish7 x reader #idolish7 imagines #idolish7 #idolish7 scenarios #idolish7 hadcanons #ainana #idolish7 x you #idolish7 fluff #idolish7 x y/n #tsunashi ryunosuke #ainana x reader #tsunashi ryunosuke x reader #idolish seven #idolish 7 #anime x reader #anime imagines #anime fluff

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umbracirrus · 8 months

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WIP Whenever 💛

Losing track of days this week, it has certainly been... something, to say the least. I've also not really had much chance to write this week until today, so it's certainly not my best but that's the nature of a work in progress, isn't it? It'll change, and it'll get better! 😊

With the excerpt I'm posting today, I've jumped ahead a few chapters in The Perfect Storm to the events of a festival in Whiterun - as for which one... Well, I've not made my mind up on it yet. Probably something like New Life... something winter-y or based around new year/midwinter at least!

Tagged by @thequeenofthewinter and @oblivions-dawn 💛

--------

Balgruuf frowned at the display of treats, not through dislike of the selection but rather through his inability to make a decision. Even then, his decision was not about what he wanted – his mind was set upon spiced fruit tarts following on from the earlier recommendation – but rather about what he would do afterwards. And just how many he would buy.

For a time, he pondered, going through his different options in his mind… at least until he realised that he was starting to receive concerned looks from passersby, both resident and visitors alike, for how he had been standing. Fortunately, his mind was made up by then.

An exchange of seven hundred (to be adjusted!) septims later – a price which he had no doubt was driven by the war across Skyrim – he found himself with two of the tarts, the sugar which dusted the top of them already getting all over his hands as a smile crept onto his face. The festival had been enjoyable, but it felt about the right time for him to go home. Whilst the city could be afforded the opportunity to make merry into the early hours, the same such luxury was not extended to its Jarl whose schedule the next day began before sunrise. That, and he had something which he wanted to do before he went to bed for the night.

Weaving in and out of the crowds filling the marketplace, he was glancing across all the people on the lookout for somebody in particular. He soon enough spotted her, though that was not after having to stop as he heard chanting from the direction of the Bannered Mare, and caught sight of Hrongar and one of the twins of the Companions having what appeared to be a drinking competition whilst an audience goaded them on. He rolled his eyes yet let out a chuckle as he shook his head, before approaching where Irileth was sat on a wall, her hand firmly placed upon a bow.

The housecarl acknowledged him with a quick glance, before her eyes darted back towards the chanting. "Yes?"

"I need you to keep an eye on my children for me until it is time for them to leave the festival, Irileth. Hrongar too, if possible. I'm returning to Dragonsreach. Keep them safe for me."

"But what about your safety, Balgruuf?" She called out, her full attention finally on him as he briskly walked away from her. He didn't respond. He didn't hear her over the cheer of a victor being declared for the contest. "Balgruuf?!"

He had a one-track mind as he made his way through the streets, following a path he had followed so many times before that it was a surprise that the stone had not worn thin beneath his feet or the wood give way to splinters on the bridge leading into Dragonsreach. It was only when indoors though that he exhaled quietly, and began to slow his pace into something more relaxed.

Soon enough, he made his way into the private quarters, then slowly approached a door which at first glance was closed, but upon knocking, creaked open. He didn't fully step inside, not knowing if he was entirely welcomed by its occupant, but made his presence known through clearing his throat.

"Are you still awake?" He asked, taking a deep breath as he thought on what say. "I… felt bad that you weren't able to visit the festival, so I brought you something that I think that you would like. May I come in?"

There was silence for a moment, before there was a quiet creaking of floorboards followed by the door opening fully. "Y… Yeah. You can."

#meg has done some writing #skyrim fanfiction #fic - the perfect storm #hmmm I wonder who Balgruuf has bought a tart for.................#and it was originally going to be hrongar having a drinking contest with lydia or uthgerd but then I thought 'ok but what about farkas'

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ink-bunny-blue · 7 months

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Find The Word tag game

Tagged by @blind-the-winds . Your excerpts were so much fun! I'm in love with the concept of demon summoning in a mall. The chosen words were Gold, Green, Great, Glass, and Give.

I tag @sparrow-orion-writes @attemptingwriter @the-down-upside-finch and your words will be Leaves, Letter, Smile, Strange, and Broken

As always, excerpts are from A Pocket Of Moons, since its currently the only wip that's fit for human consumption.

Gold

Her panic began to smoulder, but the dread still burned close to her heart. When her breaths levelled out, Madeline looked around the room, the silhouettes of the clocks gathering around her like sympathetic strangers, all ticking back and forth to one another in a language she couldn't understand. Rising up, she took the candle and held it to the face of the tall clock to her right. Its hands glistened a thousand shades of gold, and a low heartbeat sounded within its chest.

Green

“We both are alone out here. Whether beast or man, I want you to show yourself to me. Please. I want to know you.” Outside, the moon came out from beneath the clouds, and a single ribbon of light fluttered through a window above, illuminating a pair of eyes right in front of her own. He had been standing in front of her the whole time. Instead of recoiling in terror, Madeline smiled. The eyes across from hers had the same green wisdom as the wolf’s eyes, framed with long lashes and pale eyelids. They held her own gaze as they had done before, then wandered down to the book in her hand. He spoke in a voice just above a whisper: “Can you read to me?”

Great

Athena hushed him and spoke to him like the child she remembered him as. “Let's get you inside. There's no use standing here in the cold, is there?” She led Enoch into the front room and brought him to the couch to rest, draping a blanket over his shoulders. Though his head was hung, his eyes scanned the room as he remembered all the years he had spent in it. The wide mantelpiece where the family had told ghost stories on Midwinter night, the cameo portraits hung on the wall, the great Persian rug which spanned the room. But then he closed his eyes and shut the memories out. He couldn’t bear to think of the past when the present hurt enough already. “Well…what a surprise.” Athena said, nestling on the couch opposite. “I am glad to see you again- so so glad."

Glass

Soon, the sky opened and poured out the first of November’s rain, dotting the marble headstones with dark wet spots. Madeline packed her materials into the wooden box as Enoch led her into a mausoleum behind the yew, pulling up his hood again. The names on the marble vaults had long since faded, and the colours of the small stained-glass window were dulled by the rain. Outside, the drops fell in diagonal chrome shafts, drumming the roof, and dissolving the world in its haze. Both friends smiled wide, eyes soft, as they sat beneath the low ceiling, waiting for the rain to pass.

Give

Then slowly, he turned his head, and over his shoulder was a figure raised above the rest, sat up and watching him with eyes reflecting the moonlight. Enoch was sure his legs would give from under him. But as his vision cleared, he made out the auburn curls of the chorister. He stood, unsure what to do as his face burned with panic. But very slowly, very gently, Saxifraga raised a single finger to his lips, bringing a rush of relief to Enoch’s mind. I won't tell. He nodded in return. And turning back, he made the final few steps then passed the treeline, before bolting into the dark, leaving the cruel hounds sleeping behind him.

#tag games #excerpts #a pocket of moons

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naradivision · 9 months

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Special Blessing from Miraitabi!

Second part: Fairytale 🐈‍⬛

The glimmering white snow was quietly falling down in the town and so was the color of this dull indoors where life and death could become no stranger to each other at anytime.

…White walls and the faint smells of antiseptic, not much signs of liveliness can be sensed around here at this time except for the soldiers in green who were strenuously moving here and there to carry out the duty of their own.

However, amidst this seemingly colorless environment, there was a figure of someone half sitting and half lying on a couch. His silky smooth and a bit wavy hair was vivid like a dye derived from alkanet roots with a few locks sloppily falling over one side of his face. While keeping himself up close in the range of the warmth from heater just like a cat snuggling around the fireplace in midwinter, the man with a messy ponytail lazily peered through his shades to observe the achromatic scenery outside of a window.

...Time sure flies, because this year too, is going to pass by in the wink of an eye.

But since no story really had an end, the ‘Happy Ever After’ soon turned invalid —It was just something new that was going to take place.

The “journey” had already set off.

And with the fact that nothing just happened without a cause, the reason why something became the way it was until today was might as well being parts of his fault. So, at very least he made his ever fickle mind to do something about it sooner or later.

Slowly breathing in and out as he mentally counting the ticks of the clock for some way to kill time, he was certain that with this much chill of the night, his breath would gonna turn into a white fog if he was still out there wandering with no direction to go on the street. In fact, he did think the snow looked somehow fascinating but the cold was nowhere near appealing to him.

—That was what he idly thought until a hoard of spirited and mischievous little creatures gathered around him and started wrecking some noises.

“What’s up kiddies~? Do you have anything to do with this poor nii-san at this late?”

A few books were shoved right in front of him with pairs of several pleading eyes.

Oh, great. He caught a glimpse of their caretaker standing not far away from them with a quite worn-out look and a pair of thick bags under her eyes. Ho~ Not even those trained souls can keep up with the energy of these young buds?

“Hmm~ Reading you guys some books before bedtime? Ya know, if this wasn’t this late, I thought there were a heap lot of people who enjoy doing this better than me.”

Actually, this place usually had some regular visitors such as the writer friend of his who always dress like an actor from some period drama, or even that clown prick who seemed to be so good at handling children, and lately there was one tall lady with a proud look that she could seduce anyone in her gaze. However, this time was unfortunately a holiday night, so that was the main reason why there was no one around at the present.

“Alrighty~ Let me see which kind of stories you want this nii-san to read~”

Taking a glimpse of the cover on each book and he somehow had a sudden urge to turn them away.

…‘Snow White’ and ‘Sleeping Princess’, weren’t they?

What kind of thoughts filled in the heads of those authors when they decided to publish these kinds of stories for children? Especially when the stories featured their heroines to be just a damsel in distress who only waited for their princes to come rescue them or when the moral of stories became to be just ‘a kiss from true love’ can solve anything blah blah blah —Hello? Hey, do they even know that the crippled fantasy of theirs can shape up what children will think in the future?

But still, despite his subtle protest, the kids wouldn’t give up on their choices. They firmly insisted that they wanted to listen to some ‘heartwarming’ stories before bed so that they could have a good dream on the last night of this year.

…Dammit. And you little kids just ask a shameless player who had sworn to love no one like him for an unbelievable lovey-dovey tale? Talking about irony, yet he didn’t have the nerve to turn down their innocent plea.

At that moment, one idea popped up in his mind. If there was no favorable choice available then you had to create a new one, wasn’t it?

“Well then, how about nii-san telling you a story that you guys might never know before?”

After setting a bait on the hook, the big bad cat revealed a wide grin as he saw the school of fish easily falling into his trap.

“Shh...This story may neither have princes nor princesses to entertain you guys, but it’s not like angels and fairies doesn’t exist. Because believe me… Even something that is unable to be seen or even touched doesn’t mean it never exists.”

—And here we go, the fairytale as pure as white as snow, something that seemed too far innocent to be told by him started pouring out.

“...Once upon a time as the winter’s snow had fallen on the town, an unlikely encounter was somehow bound to take place.”

❆ Snow Fairy Story

youtube

“In the new future to come, it’ll once more become that glimmering snow...”

Song Title: Snow Fairy Story Covered by: 奏音69 (KANON69) Original by: 40mP Fun Fact: This song was officially featured in [SNOW MIKU LIVE! 2015] and as for the the flower depicted in the video is called “Lily of the Valley” which its flower language meaning “The return of happiness” Guess who in my stories has been named after this flower?

(Credit for the picture: picrew created by @saya_TRPG)

Acoustic version by Osamuraisan if someone want the gentle version ;)

—Farewell 2023 …2024 is up ahead!

And now Mr. Cheshire’ voice claim has finally been checked! But what role is he in my stories? Anyway, the next guest for the next (and the final) part will be quite a case ...Curious for who is next?

▶︎ Third part: Nengajo★ (…Now loading)

#hypmic oc #hypnosis microphone oc #nara division #miraitabi #secret guest #a.k.a. mr. cheshire #christmas 2023 #farewell 2023 #special blessing mixtape #album #Spotify #reveal of the first secret character and also his vc #I wonder whom is this meow meow related to?#the next part will be a bit late due to my vacation though…

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bleachbleachbleach · 8 months

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A meeting got put on my work calendar a week ago for 3pm today with no explanation about what it was, then several days later got changed to 2pm with also no explanation. I actually directly asked what the meeting was for and whether I should be, you know, preparing something for it, and my boss was like, oh yeah! I'll email you about it! And of course he didn't.

Just now this meeting was moved to 12pm (which is in 1.5hrs) and I still don't actually know what it's for, beyond my best guess based on the email addresses of those invited, but I DO now know that it has to be at 12 instead of 2 because now there's a midwinter ceremony that begins at 1 and I'm saying all of this because I'm pretty sure this is just big "I'm a Vice Captain in the Soul Society Arc" energy so I can expect my special wartime exception in the mail soon yeah?

#no brain just bleach #bleach larp

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runnerk · 9 months

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Hello @crazyspookies ! I was your ZR Secret Santa! I want to tell you that you were my PERFECT match - Stam/5tam is my *favorite* pairing. And I know it wasn't a requirement to put in every single thing you asked for, but I tried to include everyone on your list: Sam, Five, Steve, Simon, Janine, Amelia, and a Radio Cabel cameo.

This story is a Christmas Tree Farm AU. Title, "In the Bleak Midwinter" from the Christmas song of the same name. Sam has inherited the Yao family tree farm business. It's December 23d, closing day, and one last VERY PARTICULAR customer comes in demanding a tree. But when the closed sign goes up, the Christmas spirit (spirits?) take over and the lines of friendship get a little blurry.

Will post on AO3 eventually, but I wanted it to be here, for you, first. 🤶 Enjoy. Merry Everything.

Story under the cut. AU so no spoilers. Hints at NSFW material.

Thank you @notforconsumption and @delucadarling !

“If I were a wise man, I would do my part. But what can I give him? Give him my heart.” Quote from "In The Bleak Midwinter"

In The Bleak Midwinter

Five threw a log into the pot bellied wood stove and willed its hot breath to defrost her toes. She slammed the door closed and sighed as the wood popped and groaned.

The smell of burning wood.

It used to be one of her favorite smells.

It turned her stomach a little now. Since that one day - The Day - the day everything changed. .

She shivered despite the warmth wafting her way.

The door to the little shack flew open and Sam walked in, brushing snow from his hair, stark white falling from jet black. Sam grinned.

“Thanks for covering for me, Five. My alarm didn’t go off and-” Five cut him off with a shake of her head and a loud cough

“Janine knows about your car trouble.” She winked. Sam nodded his appreciation.

Sam never asked for this life. Heir to a Christmas Tree Farm. He expected his parents to grow old and die safe in their beds, hearts gently coming to a natural stop. He would also be old and would sell the farm to the highest bidder as he went on with whatever life he had chosen for himself.

But fate had other plans.

And now here he was, barely 30, owner of Abel Christmas Tree Farm. Even after all these years, he still had no idea how to run a business. Which is why he used the majority of any inheritance money (there wasn’t much) to hire Janine DeLuca as the farm manager. She was organized and..well…a little mean, if he was honest. She knew how to get things done.

“It’s okay, Sam.” Five continued, reassuring him. “It’s December 23rd. It will be a quiet day except for a few frazzled last minute tree getters.”

“It will be nice to close this place up and not have to think about it for a few months.” Sam sighed and made his way behind the register tucked away a corner of the little cabin.

“You still coming over to my place for Christmas? My parents are looking forward to seeing you.” Five grew up next door to the tree farm and spent most of her childhood chasing Sam through the trees. In the spring, racing between the saplings. The Yaos shouting reminders to watch their steps. Summers lying in the shade of the taller trees. Reading. Listening to music. Always in each other’s company. Then the fall would come and the cheerful holiday paths would be temporarily lined with skeletons, ghosts, and zombies. Haunted trails brought in money when finances were at their tightest. As soon as they were old enough, Five took on the job of acting as a zombie hunter. Sam would ride on the hay wagon and narrate stories. It was Five’s favorite time of year. As soon as the last zombie head was taken down, the farm once again became a magical winter wonderland.

Five and Sam had been the best of friends for as long as she could remember.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s just…” He stopped. Thought. “I’ll be there.”

Five smiled. “You’d better. I’m making that cornbread stuffing you like. And I think Steve is stopping by with some shortcake.”

As if on cue, Steve threw open the door and entered with a bang.

“Happy closing day!” He stomped the snow off his boots.

“Close the door.” A voice came from a dark back corner. “We aren’t paying to heat the outside.”

“Merry Christmas, Janine.”

“Same to you, Mr. Sissay. Again, I ask you to please close the door.”

Steve turned to Five and raised his eyebrows before flicking the door and letting it slam closed.

“At least she said please.” He shrugged. He made his way to where Sam was tangled in receipt paper in an attempt to replace the spool in the register. “Merry Christmas, Sam.”

Sam looked like he was overheating.

“Uh, yeah. Same to you, Steve.”

Five turned away to organize the few ornaments they had left in the small sales section of the cabin. Truth be told, the little cabin was one of her favorite places in the world. It was the size of a garden shed, but there was a wall of sparkling ornaments for sale, a wood stove along the back wall to keep warm despite the lack of insulation, and in the front corner sat the register, a little stool, and an electric kettle for hot chocolate. The most recent addition was a janky folding card table in the darkest back corner, which Janine called her “office.”

It wasn’t much. But it felt like home.

“Where is Simon?” Janine muttered from her corner. Sam and Five often referred to her as Scrooge, but never to her face.

“He’s outside. I passed him on the way in.” Steve answered, continuing to look at Sam. “He’s just getting one last smoke in before he’s officially on the clock.”

Janine sighed, irritation evident.

A few minutes of silence passed. Five continued straightening ornaments, Janine shuffled paper. Steve had finally grabbed the roll of receipt paper from Sam and swiftly placed it in the machine.

“You can tell me I’m your hero. It’s okay.” Steve chuckled. Sam just looked at him with his mouth open. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words, but Steve somehow managed to tie his tongue with a single glance.

There used to be a team of people working at Abel Tree Farm. They stayed for a few years after…well, AFTER…but each year a few more would find reasons not to return. And the year before Janine was hired, Sam had to let any remaining staff members go. There was no money to pay for help.

Janine saved the farm within the year. She agreed to hire a few new people, but there wasn’t much interest in tree farm work. Sam was able to find two interested parties. One guy, Steve, was a pyrotechnician who spent summers working at a local amusement park in charge of their fireworks shows. The other, Simon, was a personal trainer at a local gym with a flexible schedule. And flexible…everything.

Janine hired them because their schedules were flexible.

Sam approved the hiring because he liked how they both looked like burly lumberjacks.

Simon burst through the door moments later, smelling of cigarettes and pine.

“Little things!” He sang, obnoxiously loud. Five watched Janine’s head fall into her hands. “Like that happy noise. As a brand new day is dawning on this lovely Christmas morning!” He barreled through the little shack over to Five and cradled her neck in his strong arm. He dug his knuckles into the crown of her head as she struggled to get away.

“I didn’t know ABBA had a Christmas song.” She joked.

“ABBA has a song for everything.” He replied, and flexed his bicep, keeping her in place. “Little things,” Simon continued singing. “Like your naughty eyes. You’d consider bringing me a breakfast tray, but there’s a price.” He let Five go and she kicked him in the shin. He winked at her. “Go on. Guess the price for bringing me a breakfast tray.”

“Stop being gross, Simon.” Five scolded, but she couldn’t contain her laughter.

“Mr. Lauchlan, this is a professional environment. If you can’t behave-”

“Aw, don’t be jealous Jenny. Come on, it’s almost Christmas.” He walked over to her with such long strides Five could swear it only took him two steps to cross the entire floor. “You know everyone has been calling you Scrooge?”

“Simon!” Sam yelled, a blush bursting across his cheeks.

“I do not care about how others feel about me. I wasn’t brought here to be popular. I was brought here to run a tree farm.”

Janine sounded stern enough, but Five noticed that Simon had begun rubbing her shoulders and she wasn’t shaking him off. In fact, she seemed to sink a bit lower in her chair and…was she relaxing?

That was new.

A Christmas miracle, almost.

Seems Sam wasn’t the only one who liked his lumberjacky-ness.

The rest of the morning went by in a lazy haze. Between small talk about holiday plans and organizing the store for closing, a peaceful calmness filled the shack.

Five sighed.

She was going to miss this.

There was something so unbelievably comforting about these people.

It was just-

“I need a tree.”

Nobody heard the door open, but a cold breeze wafted in with the most striking woman Five had ever seen. The room froze.

“This is a tree farm, is it not?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Simon spoke first, tripping over his own feet to get to her and take her hand. He grasped it and shook it wildly. “I can help you find something thick and sprucy.”

The woman’s face twisted in disgust and she took her own hand back. She shook it as if it were contaminated.

“A standard thickness will do. I need one that is tall and has all of its branches perfectly balanced.”

“One well-balanced tree coming right up.” Simon was at the door and gestured her out first.

“Simon.” Janine called after him. “Behave."

Simon smiled and winked.

“There is no chance of him behaving, is there?” Sam asked. Steve laughed.

“Not the slightest.”

They were back in minutes.

“Amy, I’m sorry! You can’t call a tree ‘perfectly erect’ and not expect a comment!”

“The name is Amelia and as a customer I have a reasonable expectation of professionalism no matter what words I choose to use.”

“Our apologies, Ms…”

“Spens.”

“Apologies, Ms. Spens. Our other associate, Mr. Sissay, will bring you the finest tree we have. AND he’ll be quick about it.”

“On it.” Steve disappeared outside as both Janine and Amelia glared at Simon, who, for his part, looked completely unashamed.

“Would anyone like cocoa?” Sam asked.

“Yes, please.” Five grinned. Of course Sam would know how to break the tension.

“I’ll take some, Sammy.”

“Oh no you won’t, Mr. Lauchlan.” Janine said. “I would like to see you out back.”

Five and Sam gasped. Out back was the wood storage shed. It was cold and dark and had a potent woodsy smell. Five had once compared it to the feeling of being buried six feet under in a pine box and since then…nobody wanted to go out back.

But Simon looked oddly intrigued.

“Have I been a bad boy, Jenny?” Janine’s cheeks flushed and she shook her head.

“Actually, yes. And I need to speak with you urgently.”

Five thought they left a little eagerly, but it was really none of her business.

“Anything for you, Amelia?” Sam pushed the button for the electric kettle and started setting out mugs.

“From an electric kettle? And is that…powdered mix?” She shuddered. “I’ll pass.”

“Please have a seat near the fire while you wait. I’m sure Steve will be back momentarily.”

“He does seem quite strong. Those biceps are certainly impressive.”

An awkward silence filled the room until the kettle began to boil. Sam poured two mugs of hot chocolate for himself and Five and offered Amelia a cup one final time.

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head. “Horrifying.”

Five took a sip, slurping loudly.

Sam immediately looked away. Five never slurped anything in her life. He knew if he looked over he’d see a devilish look in her eye and she would only double down on trying to annoy their only customer of the day.

Amelia was browsing their selection of ornaments.

“Some of these are quite beautiful.” She picked up a miniature snow globe hanging on a string. Five smiled.

“Oh, that’s a great one. It was handmade by-”

“This is the ugliest snowglobe I have ever seen.” Amelia squinted as she examined it. “I mean, really. As I was saying, some of these are beautiful, but this is not one of them.”

Five looked over at Sam, who was still facing the wall. She knew even without seeing his face that he was holding back laughter. Five, on the other hand, was not feeling overly playful with this terrible woman.

“Listen, I don’t know who you think you are-”

“Here you go, ma’am. The perfect tree. It’s almost 200 centimeters tall, blue spruce. She’s an absolute stunner.” Steve announced from the doorway.

“Do you commonly equate women with trees?” Amelia asked. Steve didn’t miss a beat. He leaned on the counter, making sure his arm muscles rippled under his flannel shirt, which was at least two sizes too small.

“No, ma’am.” Steve said. He seemed to be remembering that Simon was currently out back for his attempt at innuendo. “I rotate pronouns with trees so all sexes are represented equally through the…whole forest. Out of respect. For nature.”

Five winced.

“Hmm. Very well then.” Amelia walked over to Sam and leaned on the counter, gently bumping Steve with her backside.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Uh - no charge. Because of the - uh - trouble.” Five watched Sam die a little inside.

It was definitely a weird day.

“I guess this place isn’t as bad as I assumed it was. Happy Christmas, workers.” Then, to Steve, “You’ll be tying this to the roof of my car?” It was a question but also - not.

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.” Steve grinned and followed her out.

Five and Sam stood frozen for a solid minute before Sam finally burst with laughter.

“What the hell was that?”

“That woman was a real piece of work. We need to hang up a picture with her face and never let her back in here again.”

“Aw, come on, Five. At least she didn’t take any of Simon’s nonsense.”

“Yeah, but she insulted the ornament that the children’s hospital made.”

Sam made his way across the little shack and folded Five into a hug.

“She couldn’t have known that. But I’m sorry she didn’t let you explain.”

“And she insulted your hot chocolate.”

“Well that was definitely out of line. You’re right. We should ban her.” Five giggled into Sam’s shoulder.

“See? I told you. She was terrible.” Five felt Sam start to let go but pulled him closer. “How are you Sam? Honestly?”

Sam paused and Five felt him tense up in the hug. He took a long breath, considering his answer carefully.

“I’m…okay. It’s been a long time but…some days are lonelier than others. Christmas still stings quite a bit. Which is inconvenient, you know? Since I pretty much sell Christmas.”

When silence and sadness fill the space between words, it’s hard not to fill it. Five fought the urge to say something encouraging like, “It will get better” or “Your parents are so proud of you for carrying on” because truly there was no way to know either of those things. She wasn’t in the business of making empty promises. Not to anyone, but especially not to Sam. Never to Sam.

“Which is why you shouldn’t have to wake up alone on Christmas. Why don’t you-”

Sam pulled back to look at her.

“Wha-”

“Oh! Am I interrupting?” Five and Sam both jumped. Neither one had heard Steve come back in.

“Nope. No. Not at all. Just - normal friendly conversation.” Sam stammered. Five laughed.

“You’re fine, Steve. Hey, listen. I’m not the owner of this place or anything, but I’m thinking that was probably our last customer. She was the only person all day looking for a tree and it’s getting late. What do we say to closing an hour early?”

“Also not in charge but I say that’s a great idea.”

“As the person who IS in charge, I’m calling it.” Sam walked to the small, frost covered window in the front and flipped the open sign. “Closed for the season.” He sighed.

“So I’m no longer an employee here until next season, right?” Steve asked.

“Right.”

“Then I can’t be fired, right?”

“Ummm, right.” There was a hint of a question in Sam’s voice.

“And, since we’re closed…” He pulled a flask from his pocket. “This isn’t drinking on the job, right?”

Sam shrugged. “I suppose it isn’t.”

“But only if you share.”

“Five, darling. I wouldn’t ever whip out whiskey and not offer it to a lady.”

“I’ll warm up more water for hot cocoa. Whiskey would be great in cocoa.” Sam added more water to the kettle and clicked it on. Five chuckled. She knew Sam wasn’t a fan of straight alcohol. Five on the other hand-

“I’ll take it straight from the flask.” She waited patiently for Steve to finish swallowing and grabbed it from his hand.

She took a long pull and the whiskey burned her throat on the way down. She felt the warm liquid sit in her belly and run through her veins. It was a feeling not much different than getting a hug from Sam.

She couldn’t remember exactly when she met Sam. Somehow it seemed like they had been together since the day they were born. The best of friends. There was never a question. Except lately something was changing. Something felt …more. She took another swig and handed it back to Steve.

He seemed to sense that she had been thinking about other things and gave her a questioning look. She smiled to reassure him that she was okay.

“Do you still have that little radio?” He asked. Sam, still behind the counter, reached down and pulled out a tiny radio. He turned it on and static blared through the shack. He adjusted the signal until he heard a voice break through.

“Today, Cit-i-zens, everyone here at Radio Cabel will be sharing our favorite holiday traditions!” Phil Cheeseman’s voice blared from the speakers. “You start, Zoe.”

“I like to start the day by making a nice breakfast and eating it in front of Christmas specials with my cats.” Zoe paused. “Later in the day I go see family and it’s busy and crazy, so I like having the time to myself to prepare for all of that.”

“That sounds kind of lonely.”

“It’s actually not. I like a balance of quiet and loud.”

“Not us.” Jack cut in. “Since Eugene and I have been together, we started a new tradition of blasting Christmas music and dancing in front of the tree while we open gifts.”

“No,” corrected Eugene. “Jack blasts music in front of the tree and dances. I try to get in as much coffee as I can to keep up with him all day.” Eugene let out a gentle laugh.

“And you love it.” Jack chuckled. “This next song is one of my favorites to annoy Gene with.”

The water was boiling and Sam mixed another cup of hot chocolate before joining Five and Steve in the middle of the cabin.

“You didn’t drink it all, did you?”

Steve winked and poured a large quantity of alcohol into his mug. Sam raised his glass as if to say ‘cheers’ and took a large gulp. He coughed and sputtered a bit but managed to play it cool.

“Yum.” He managed to squeak out. Steve laughed.

“Don’t worry. If we finish this, I have one or two backup flasks in my coat pocket.”

“Of course you do.”

The next song came on the radio. Over the intro, Phil gently spoke of how this song sparked memories of his childhood traditions.

Five found herself wrapping her arms around Sam, who responded in kind. They began some kind of involuntary swaying that she supposed could have been dancing.

Another set of strong arms wrapped around them.

The song ended with the three of them huddled together. They each took another drink - Five and Steve from the flask and Sam from his mug - and sat on the ground.

Sam leaned toward the merchandise for sale and pulled over a few tree skirts and some bags of cotton, sprinkled with glitter to look like snow. They wiggled around, arranging the items to make pillows and blankets. They cuddled together for warmth.

“Come on, loves. Tell me. Are you really best friends or is there something else happening here?”

“Yes.” Five said, while Sam stammered something incomprehensible next to her. The drink had loosened Five’s tongue and she continued without thinking. “We were always friends but since his parents died and his sister skipped out on him, I guess I want to be his family now. But not in a gross way. In a way that, like, I just want to be there for him all the time. I want to be the person who…” She trailed off, realizing that Sam had now propped himself up on an elbow and was staring at her. “Well…it’s true.”

“What happened?” Steve asked. Five, apparently a chatterbox when drunk, opened her mouth to answer. Sam never spoke about The Day. But he took a deep breath and launched into it.

“It … it’s going to be sad.” Sam warned. Nobody spoke. He shrugged and continued. “It was Christmas Eve. Everyone was home - my parents, my sister, and me. I had moved out into my little apartment down the road and my sister lived on her University campus. But as it was Christmas - this was the first time since the summer we were all under one roof. We had a fire going in the fireplace that morning, feeling festive and whatnot, and for just a few minutes - that was all it took - everyone was distracted. I don’t know where they were. I was upstairs in my room, wrapping some last minute presents when the fire alarm started blaring. I tried running downstairs but there was already so much smoke. The house - that damn house - we only had one working alarm. It was something my dad always said we needed to fix. But we never got to it. So anyway, by the time the smoke set off the alarm, it was already a pretty big fire. I don’t know what happened, but my parents never made it out of the house. Maybe they went to go get our dog? I don’t know. Maybe the downstairs just filled with smoke too fast? It doesn’t matter. The doctors tried explaining some theories but honestly I didn’t care enough to listen. What did it matter how it happened? My sister and I both made it out by jumping out the second floor windows. There were big trees around the house. Both of us could climb down. We got outside and it was just - the whole house. Flames out of every window. I don’t know. I can’t quite remember much. But I made two phone calls that morning. One to the fire department. The other…” His voice trailed off.

“Was me.” Five finished, quietly. “You called me. I ran over from my house as fast as I could. It was…awful.”

“Where is your sister now?” Steve asked cautiously.

“She didn’t stick around. Right after the funeral she took off with her boyfriend - his family is rich - and finished her schooling in some tropical location. I don’t even know where she is. She didn’t leave an address. She just said she wanted no part in the tree farm business and just - left.”

The room was quiet save for everyone taking a few gulps of their drink.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. I really had no idea.” Steve said eventually.

“Yeah. I don’t like to talk about it. I can’t bring them back. But it is why…it’s why I don’t go out to the tree field much. I like to stay in here. If I go too far back, to the last row of trees, I can see the foundation of the old house. They tore it down, but…they left that part.”

“Yikes. I’ve seen that before. I just figured it was torn down to make room for the tree farm.”

“Nope. Just the shattered remains of my old life.” Five patted his shoulder. “Anyway, it’s okay. I mean, no. Not okay. My therapist keeps reminding me that I don’t have to say it’s okay. Because it’s not. It’s just…thank you. Thanks for your…uh…concern. And stuff. I’m dealing with it.”

Steve leaned over and took Sam’s face in his hands.

“You’re doing really well, love. This is a great business you’ve got here. Everyone who comes here feels welcome and has a great time. Well, everyone except for Amelia.” They laughed. Despite his laughter, Sam squirmed a bit.

“Your face is..uh…close.” Sam licked his lips and winced, suddenly realizing how suggestive that was.

“You’re adorable.” Steve said and kissed him gently. Five raised her eyebrows.

“Well, that wasn’t on my list of things I thought I’d see today.”

“Oh, darling. You should always expect the unexpected. Especially when Christmas magic is in the air.”

“And whiskey is in the glass.” Five raised the flask and took another swig.

Sam remained still and silent as Steve backed up to give him space.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Five laughed, but Steve just whispered,

“You’re welcome.”

The radio played another slow song, long gentle lyrics about bleak midwinters and moaning wind. “Snow had fallen, snow on snow on snow.” Caught up in the music, in the warmth, in the closeness, a shirt was discarded. Hands grasping. Not quite sure what belonged to who. Lips on lips on lips. Skin on skin on skin.

If anyone had approached the little tree farm shack that night, they would have had a hard time seeing through the windows, steamed with heat and want. Three bodies silhouetted in the light of the wood stove. Friends and passion and love.

It was close to midnight by the time Steve left. The drink long gone, a few hours of sleep, the fire snuffed. And then it was Sam and Five, closing the door to the shop. Closing the door on the season. Closing the door on the only closeness he still felt to his parents.

Five kissed Sam long and deep, knowing there was no returning to “just friends.”

“Don’t go home.”

“Where - what?”

“Don’t go home. Ever. Forget your little apartment. I want you with me.” She held him close but pitched her head back to look him in the eye. “Stay with me.”

“Five, you’re all caught up in the - whatever…”

“Christmas magic.” Five grinned. “Yes. But also, no. Sam - I have loved you for a long time. I’m your family. I’m your love. Stay with me.”

Sam was quiet, contemplative.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. But…I’m not giving up my apartment yet. Just in case.”

“You won’t need it.”

“It’s just…it’s hard to believe things can be permanent. Awful things can happen, Five. I don’t want anything to happen but I know -”

“We’re going to be great, Sam.”

“How do you know?”

Five stopped and thought. How could she possibly know? She didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Just like she didn’t know that Sam would be okay or that his parents would be proud. But this didn’t feel like a lie.

“Sam, I don’t know. I have no idea if things will work. And I could be ruining the best friendship in the world. But here’s what I do know. I don’t want to spend another minute without you. You are my whole heart. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. We’ve wasted so many years treading so carefully. Without great risk, there can’t be great rewards. And Sam…a lifetime with you would be the greatest reward I could ever imagine. It’s worth the risk.”

Sam stared at her, mouth gaping.

“Okay.”

“Okay? I gave you all that and you’re giving me okay?”

Sam chuckled.

“I love you. So much. And I owe Steve my whole life for getting us over this friendship hump.”

“Wow. Poetic. And don’t get me started on how much Simon would love the use of the word hump.”

“Let’s go home.” Sam said. “To your place. I’ll move my toothbrush in tomorrow and it will be home.”

With that, Sam and Five started down a long, winding path. Winters are a lot less bleak with someone you love by your side.

#runner five #zombies run #sam yao #simon lauchlan #5tam #Zombies Run Secret Santa 2023 #ZRSS23

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