Crucible - Ch 10

Crucible - Ch 10

Pairing: Link x Reader

Prompt: For the Bittersweet Mini Bang!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, violence, mild body horror, lots of whump, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: Link prays he’s not too late, and that his fear of not being able to protect her doesn’t come to fruition.

AO3

Link woke up a start. He jerked upright, panting as his heart hammered in his chest, his mind reeling in confusion.

Did he have another nightmare? He couldn’t remember, but his heart was beating too fast, and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. What had woken him in such a state if not another nightmare—

The mournful cry came again, and Link’s eyes went wide.

Vah Ruta.

Link rushed out of bed and yanked on his boots so fast he nearly lost his balance, stumbling to the bedroom door while tugging up one shoe. He burst through his door and the one across the hall.

“Blue!—“

Her bed was empty.

No. His heart seized in sudden fear. No, no, no.

Something was terribly wrong. Vah Ruta was awake and trumpeting in distress. He had a horrible feeling he would find Blue when he got to the beast.

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Hayden Christensen behind the scenes of Revenge of the Sith (2005), dir. George Lucas

Secret House Keeper (Link x Reader) PART THREE

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗲! 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲!  𝗶 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱!

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁! @gummy-dummy​

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

L was short for Link. That’s what he told you as soon as he woke up to the smell of you dropping off a bowl of Gourmet Meat Stew on his dresser. 

So of course, you had to stay. 

When he collapsed in front of you all those days ago, you really didn’t know what to do. Admittedly, you probably wasted a few precious seconds as you freaked out over his unconscious, bleeding-out body. Thankfully for you, the sound of your family quickly approaching over the bridge leading to his house was enough for you to pull yourself together. 

Before anything could be done, however, He had to be stripped of his shield, his sword, and his bow. The bow was new- something you didn’t recognize. The sword was obviously something Hylian. A traditional model that you had seen many times yet you learned the name. The shield was another Hunter’s Shield. Decorated with holes and dents from where it was obviously used to block arrows, it looked like it was on its last leg. It was not that different from the one that hung up on his wall right now. You wonder if he had a similar upbringing as you did with your own Hunter’s shield. The thought made your heart heavy. 

Rolling him onto his back, your parents go to work. They dressed his wounds, making sure you understood all the steps they took. While that happened, you flitted around his house for a clean pair of clothes and rags to soak up all of the blood. It was a messy process- messier than cleaning his house has ever been- but you gritted your teeth and bore it. You had involved yourself in his life already. It would be a shame to just leave so suddenly. Especially when someone is in their darkest hour of need.

An hour later, his life was no longer in immediate danger. 

Your parents had patched him up and moved him to bed up the stairs. Your dad took the liberty of changing his clothes, swapping his now dyed blood-red Hylian Tunic for an old, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that you found buried in one of the trunks in his room. His current Hylian Trousers were traded for a new pair that you estimated to be too big for his surprisingly little frame. 

At the same time, you got straight to work scrubbing the floor when he collapsed while your mother left to start on a nice, big pot of Gourmet Meat Stew. The dark red stain was hard to get out of the hardwood floors. Your fingers were starting to ache, and your knuckles turned white as you tried to buff the blood out of the floor. But eventually, you triumphed. Slowly but surely, you got your progress. And luckily for you, you had just finished cleaning up the last of the tiny blood splatters on the wall nearby right as your mother returned, stew in hand. 

Your parents sat at the freshly cleaned table, their stews in their belly as they admired all the weapons and shields on display and spoke mutely about what had just occurred. Their own little whispers about what they thought happened. You didn’t hear any of it. Not one bit. 

Instead, you found yourself sitting on the side of his bed, stew left unattended as you dabbed at his glistening skin. A bowl of his own sat next to yours, but they were both growing cold. You were fine with eating the stew when it was lukewarm, but if he didn’t stir soon, you would probably have to fix him something else. Something that wouldn’t sit in his chest if the dish was too cold. Maybe a nice, warm Meat and Rice Bowl would be a good idea. You could slice any of the leftover meat that wasn’t used in the stew into thin strips. Paired with a bowl of fluffy rice, you’re sure he’ll be able to take it down smoothly. Besides, a dish like that would be easy to prepare quickly.

It came as no surprise to yourself that you had already decided on being the one to nurse him back to health. Getting him wrapped up and off the floor was the first challenge. Even now, as he laid underneath his covers, unconscious but alive, you knew he couldn’t be left alone. You were probably the only one in your family with enough free time to tend to such a wounded patient. Not to mention, not knowing what had happened to him scared you. Stranger or not, you weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of putting him in someone else’s care. Especially when the very boy you wanted to meet almost had his life slip away in front of you.  

 And with that, his recovery was another item on your To-Do list. A more fragile, delicate item, but another item nonetheless. It’s the least you could do. For invading his home. Just to clean it. Unannounced…

Anyways-

The hours began to blur after that. You sat by his side for a long time, watching the sun disappear and the moon rises into the sky. Your parents left after speaking to each other for a little while, coming up to see you before they turned in for the night. You managed to convince your dad to bring you a blanket as well as the ingredients for the Meal and Rice bowl while they were cleaning your empty bowl and L’s untouched stew. You spent hours tending to him, watching for any sign of a problem- discomfort, infections, anything. Luckily, you were met with nothing but a relaxed face and quiet puffs of air passing from his lips. All was well. 

Eventually, he did stir.

It was late at night when he did, and you had already turned off all but one lamp in his house for the night. His eyes were barely open, and his eyelashes fluttered as he tried to focus his eyes. Soft noises erupted from his throat as made quick work of steaming your rice and cooking the leftover, now sliced meat. You realized he was barely lucid when you returned to his side. You thought that would be a problem at first considering how he couldn’t feed himself in such a state.

Thankfully, you came up with the idea of spoon-feeding him- an idea that surprisingly worked. All you had to do was prop him up a little against the headboard of his bed. A gentle prod of your spoon against his lips was enough for his brain to recognize what needed to happen, even while he was in such a fuzzy state. It was a slow, slow process of feeding him, and the silence was only broken by your murmured words of comfort and encouragement. You eventually got him to finish close to half of the rice bowl and the majority of the meat before he turned his head away and his eyes fluttered shut. Near-silent snores filled the air after that. He had gone to sleep.

This process continued for six more meals over the course of the next two days. You would spoon-feed him. The first four meals were still Meat and Rice bowls. Always freshly cooked. Always nice and hot from the kitchen. You would blow on it gently before feeding it to him, and he would slowly eat your cooking in the same daze from the day before. He was slowly eating more and more as each mealtime went by. During the last two meals, he started to become present enough to handle something a little different. Your father had started a fresh pot of Gourmet Beef Stew for lunch on the second day after L had collapsed so you decided to bring a bowl for him. You focused on feeding him the broth mostly and were able to feed him some of the smaller chunks of meat while slipping in some veggies here and there. 

You were able to do that one more time before he woke up. 

“W-where..?” His whisper was hoarse, yet it rang out in the early morning air. “W-what happen-”

His words cut off with a harsh cough as he sits up. You sucked in a sharp breath, surprised to see him up so suddenly, but you instantly rushed to his side. In seconds you were reaching for the pitcher of water you had sitting out on the bedside table and pouring him a glass of water. His cheeks flush as he struggles to gain his breath again while you spend a couple extra moments rubbing his back softly and balancing a glass of water in your free hand. 

Eventually, the coughs stop, and he accepts the glass of water from your hand. He drinks it greedily, downing the whole thing in seconds before letting his hands fall to his side. Silence settles between the two of you as you eye him carefully, watching for any problems. You had been at his side for so long- only leaving to wash up or let your father change his clothes, so he was allowed privacy. The first night you had slept at the foot of his bed, just in case he turned too suddenly and ended up hurting himself further. Every night after that, you slept minimal hours in your own bed at home. And you always made sure to rush back to L’s house, never wanting to leave him alone for long. You’d be damned if anything happened to him now. 

When he turns to you, you’re met with a beautiful sight. You had admired his features while he was asleep sure, but now that he was awake, you couldn’t help but stare in awe. His eyes were big, round, and a gorgeous shade of blue. They were like fresh water from a stream or a clear sky. His eyebrows were thick and full, and for some reason, you could just tell they were almost always furrowed. His nose was small but fit his face perfectly. Coupled that with his long, messy, dirty blonde hair and you couldn’t help but be impressed by how cute and boyish he looked.

Before you started cleaning his house, you had always caught glimpses of him from afar. Judging by how he lived alone and would always be outdoing Goddesses know what, you figured he’d be a lot older. But despite how young you thought he looked physically, you knew deep down his age didn’t change the fact that he must be a seasoned adventurer. A fighter, an explorer- perhaps even a soldier in his past life.

When he had collapsed in front of you, that was just a mere moment of weakness. The L in front of you now doesn’t have the same appearance as the L you’ve been nursing all this time. He looked guarded. Tense even, as if he was ready to run at the first sign of a predator. Those beautiful, round blue eyes of his didn’t carry the innocence that most people usually came to associate blue eyes with. They were not as soft as a babbling brook or as dainty as the summer sky at noon. They were hard. They were walled up. And they were looking at you as if you were a threat. Who knew that someone so young could look so old? So experienced? Despite looking close to your age, you have never met someone who seemed so un-

“-like me…” Your thought finishes itself out loud before you’re able to realize what happened. Despite the words coming out as a whisper, L’s eyes narrow at you. The look he gives you is intense. It feels angry, almost. It’s obvious that he heard you. And it’s even more obvious that you have to now pick up the pieces and explain yourself. “Um- I wanted to apologize for coming into your home uninvited! When you collapsed, I knew I couldn’t just leave you there so I-”

“You’re the housekeeper.” 

L’s voice is firm, yet gentle as he cuts you off. There’s no question mark that follows his words. It’s a statement. Pure and simple. He sounds confident and completely sure of himself. When you look in his eyes again, you realize that it’s not anger that you spotted. His gaze is still cloudy from recovery, and his eyes look like he’s deep in thought as he speaks to you. It’s as if he’s trying to recognize you from someplace. You doubt he’s in much of a position to do anything but rest, but you couldn’t help but ask:

“How did you know I was the ‘housekeeper’?”

It feels odd calling yourself that since there was no initial formal agreement between the two of you. Despite this, being called the housekeeper so casually helped you feel like he doesn’t see you as much as a threat. Hopefully, at least. 

“I saw you.” He states simply. When you blink at him owlishly, tilting your head in confusion, he starts by clearing his throat and explains himself further. “Before I- before I fell, I mean. I saw you cleaning. So, I figured…”

A red hue appears of L’s face as he trails off, eyes casting off to the side. You hold in your giggle at his sudden bashful behavior. The aged look of anger and experience doesn’t suit him as well as this childish pout of his. It’s a rather cute look on him. 

“Is that so? Well then, you really must be the infamous L, huh?” You hum, a small smile gracing your face. “I’m glad we were able to patch you up in time. I was really worried.”

“I’m sorry about all that. Normally, I’m not that careless…so thank you…” Link murmurs, scratching the back of his neck absently. Your heart aches with the thought of just how many times he had to patch himself up while he was close to death when suddenly, his eyes snap back to yours and you’re floored with just how alive he looked for a second. “And, you…you don’t have to call me L…if you don’t want to, of course. It was just my signature. My name is Link, actually…”

“Link?” You try the name out on your tongue. It flows out perfectly, and you recall it was once the name of a legendary Hero of Hyrule from a long, long time ago. It suits him, you think. It suits him perfectly. “…what a pretty name. It’s nice to finally meet you, Link.”

The second time you say his name, his body loses all of its tension. His shoulders relax, and his body deflates. A smile stretches across his lips as he looks at you, eyes half-hidden by his messy bangs. It’s a quiet, gentle smiler as his eyes scan your figure, burning your image into his head It’s full of comfort, and it makes you feel safe- trusting. It doesn’t fit the look of a boy who collects swords, bows, and shields. It doesn’t fit the look of a boy whose eyes hold so many stories of fights and battles and danger at every corner. And it surely doesn’t fit the look of a boy who had almost bled out in front of you. Yet he wears it anyway. 

And he wears it well.

“You know,” Link starts, and the second he captures your eyes, the smile on his face evolves into a grin you didn’t think was possible on your sweet little patient. “It’s even prettier when you say it…”

Maybe he wears it a little too well.

daddy’s girl, part two. jason todd x reader

summary: jason will do anything to prove he’s right, especially when it comes to his suspicion of you.

warning/s: swearing, unedited, gif not mine, very minor mention of sex and drug trafficking

slater’s note: uhh the titans season 3 trailer came out and that kinda gave me motivation to write for jason (even though i don’t take curran as the f/c)

part one, part two

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new rules - part eight

word count: 1.7K

warnings: 18+ ONLY. Language, angst, spanking, D/s beginnings, vaginal fingering

king’s guard steve rogers x princess reader

amazing moodboard by @pictures-inmy-mind | divider by @firefly-graphics​

Previous: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

summary | done with his daughter’s antics, a king makes a decree that she will marry one of his king’s guards, whether she wants to or not.

Your lips still tremble from the aftermath of your training, Steve’s fingers swiping your slick over your lips gently. You lost track of time, your body surrendered to Steve as you were centered finally, your frustrations and fears culminating into tears that rolled down your cheeks with every single contact of Steve’s hand.

“You should taste how sweet you are,” Steve tells you, his palm grazing your sensitive flesh as you whimper. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Gliding your tongue over your lips and tasting your juices, Steve’s pupils are blown wide with lust before he kisses you. Not that he needs the praise but you really like the way he kisses you. It makes you forget you definitely shouldn’t be where you are at the moment.

“Good girl,” he praises, his grip on your waist tight as you try to move. “Not yet. Be still. It’s gonna hurt if you get up too fast.”

A knock at the door brings your attention back to reality. You’re in your father’s study, still over Steve’s lap with your dress pulled over your hips, your discarded panties off to the side on the floor.

“B-Brunn?” you ask, trying to make your voice authoritative. “What is it?”

“The stylist is here,” Brunnhilde says against the door. “If you’re finished arguing with each other, can you come out so that we can get this tour of the kingdom over with?”

“Tour?”

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Hate Me - Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: SMUT! This is almost pure filth. There is some angst and cursing as well.

A/N: Blame @sarcastic-bubble for the amount of pure filth in this. That is all. (Don’t forget to send in requests!!)

“Canto Bight? That’s the super fancy, rich person planet, correct?” You ask, your chin resting thoughtfully against your hand. “Correct, General. And you’ll be going on this mission with Master Skywalker.” Obi wan explains, to which you let out a strangled groan. “I know of your feelings towards Master Skywalker, but please General, for the Republic, just get along with him.” “Easier said then done, but for the Republic, I will do as I must.” You agree, prompting Obi wan to place a tender hand on your shoulder. He offers you a smile before walking away.

You make your way to the hangar, delighted to find that you were alone. You quietly made your way up into the ship, sighing contently in the silence. You take the silence as an opportunity to meditate, and to hopefully level yourself before spending maker knows how long with the narcissistic, stuck up man that is Anakin Skywalker. Anakin and you had a past, a past that remains in secrecy. You and Anakin had previously been in a romantic relationship, which was kept between you two in order to protect yourselves from the Jedi Council.

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