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luimagines · 1 year

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Fairy Flutters in a Faraway Forest (700 Followers Raffle)

Our first prize winner was @xicarusisfallingx They asked for some Hyrule angst with a happy ending. I have no idea if I achieved that or not but it’s here!

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You didn’t think this through. That much became apparent when you realized the sun was setting and you had thoroughly lost your way through the underbrush of the forest. You weren’t even trying to walk away intentionally. The group came to a somewhat difficult terrain and you just stepped away from the trail by what could have been 3 feet and suddenly you were in the middle of nowhere with no way back from where you came.

You figured that the group would have still been traveling north by the looks of it. And if the sun sets in the west, then you just have to wait a few more minutes and then gather where the sun is going and then you can travel again and hopefully meet up with the boys once more.

That’s the plan.

A fairly solid one if you say so yourself.

That’s not what happened. Go figure.

You could slowly feel the last bit of barely restrained panic seep into your system. You had tried to remain realistic, if leaning toward optimistic for a change. You knew that the group was going one way and that you hadn’t been separated for long. If you had been going the same direction then you would have been able to meet up on the trail relatively quickly afterwards. Right?

Wrong.

The sun seemed to be going down faster than you had begun to prepare for. The shadows lengthened. Anything retaining its light appeared to be glowing and following your movements. Your footsteps carried you in silence across the twigs and dried leaves on the forest floor but not everything moved like you did.

The slightest sounds began to make you anxious and jumpy.

You had tried to go as fast as you could but it was only after you nearly tripped and ate the dirt that you realized you were running through the forest at full speed. Not that it helped. The shadows continued to consume the light, chipping away at your already limited vision.

You took a turn into a crack in the mountain rock. It was wide and dark but this might as well be the safest place for you until Wolfie could come and hopefully find you. If not, then you can continue in the morning and meet up with the rest of the group when the stars align, you supposed.

You sighed and pushed your back against the wall. You were tired. You slid down the stoney wall much to your discomfort but you couldn’t care less. You hung your head between your knees and ran your hands through your hair. What a day this has been.

When you lift your head again, you try to think of the next course of action. You crack your joints and let yourself sag.

There’s a twinkling light just further into the cave.

Your eyebrows furrow and you begin to crawl through the shrinking space. You have to get onto your hands and knees, furthering the area in which you know you will ache come sunrise. When you reach the light, you come to a small cavern but at least here you can move and stand.

It’s a fairy fountain.

You could cry with relief. You take a breath and stumble towards the edge of the pool. And by stumble, I mean stumble. You trip over yourself and fall to your knees again in your exhaustion but you continue forward in some blind desperation for comfort no matter how obtuse. Your fingers touch the water’s surface. The water ripples from your contact but it grows in rhythm and strength, soon no longer emanating from your location, but instead in the middle of the small pool. Bubbles begin to surface and the Great Fairy which resides in the fountain springs forth.

She gasps in horror and immediately lets her healing magic flow over you. “Oh you poor dear. How did you ever find this place?”

“Pure luck.” You sigh in relief. While your body no longer feels like it’s yelling at you, the muscle sag and you’re reminded that you’re incredibly tired.

“Well you certainly have enough good fortune to make it here.” She whispers, seeing your eyes begin to flutter close.

She stops, concern washing over her features.

You fall asleep before she can get any more information out of you. There’s very little she can do from here except either watch over you or go back into her pool. Neither of which are things she wants to do or thinks is morally correct.

Another stranger enters her hidden oasis.

She blinks, not expecting this many visitors so soon in succession. It’s a fairy, much like her daughters but there’s little in the magic that surrounds it that she recognizes. It must come from a very far place. She’s never felt a fairy like that one before.

It looks around for a little bit before it spots the eldest visitor before it. It seems to freeze in shock before it flies over, fluttering anxiously over the person. The Great Fairy isn’t entirely sure what to do. Do they know each other?

“Hello little one.” She says softly, calling out to the little fairy.. “Are you lost? You’re welcome here.”

“Ah-...Thank you.” The voice responds. Very peculiar. The accent is off and it certainly doesn’t sound like any of her sister’s fairies either. “...And thank you for looking after my friend. I was searching for them for hours. I had feared the worst had befallen them.”

Ah, that answers at least one of her questions. She smiles warmly and nods. “My pleasure. I’m happy to be of service. As you can imagine, I don’t get much company in my little alcove.”

The fairy nods along respectfully. “I’d wish to stay longer, Grandmother, but my other friends are also searching for this one. I’d hate to keep them waiting and it will get dark soon.”

“It would be a bit difficult to get them through the only entrance, I’m afraid.”

The little fairy hums and the magic changes in front of her eyes. The Great Fairy gasps again as her hands fly over her mouth. Well now it certainly wasn’t any of the fairies she knew of.

The boy hums and looks over the other human. “I’ll think of something.”

He hoists them over his shoulder and nearly buckles under the added weight. “I have to try at least.”

The Great Fairy frowns.”...Please be careful little one. You know where to find me should any of your friends need help or healing.”

He smiles her way, if a bit strained. “Thank you Grandmother.”

He then begins to make his way through the stone crack in the wall, dragging his friend with him as he goes.

Hyrule grunts and curses under his breath. There’s very little that can dissuade into stopping however. It takes him at least ten minutes to get through the crack while dragging you behind him. By the time he reaches the outside, he’s panting and the amount of bumps and bruises you’ve gained wake you up again.

“...Ow…” You whine and roll over.

“At least you’re alive.” Hyrule spits. He wants to take it back immediately. He’s truly thankful that he didn’t find you in any worse condition. Then again... He saw you after the fairy healed you. Who knows how bad it was before he came along and found you by sheer chance.

“...Link?” You groan and blink your eyes open.

Hyrule sighs and puts another healing spell on you. He’s about to run low on magic, but that doesn’t mean he can’t spare a few more spells. “Hi.”

You push yourself up and turn to look at him more fully. Slow recognition enters your eyes and you look around yourself. “We’re still in the forest.”

“We made it to the town.” Hyrule laments. “I thought I was bad. Why did you wander off? We thought the shadow got to you while none of us were looking. We were worried sick. We had to make a search party and everything.”

You blink away the last of your confusion and exhaustion and stare dumbly at the boy in front of you. He lets the spell drop. You at least have it in you to thank him for the magic he’s spent on making sure you’re ok. “Thanks…..How did you find me?”

Hyrule lets a look of frustration cross over his face and lets out a larger breath than you think is called for. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to. I sensed the fairy fountain nearby and went to be refreshed by the Great Fairy so I could continue looking for you. It just so happened that you were already there.”

“Oh.” You say intelligently. “Did you get refreshed, at least?”

“No.”

“Oh.” You look down. You get the vague notion that you should feel ashamed in the very least but you’re too brain fired to think of an appropriate response. You don’t want the space to lapse into an awkward silence so you rack your brain to think of a new conversation. “How far is the town from here?”

“Three hours.” Hyrule sighs again and stands up. “Come on. Let’s go.”

You take his hand and let him help you up. “Are we going to make it there?”

“Yes.” Hyrule answers without room for debate. “Because so help me, You’re sleeping in a bed tonight.”

He wants to glare at you, you can tell. But he focuses his gaze forward as he wraps your arm around his shoulders and begins to march forward.

He’s tired too, you realize and now begin to feel the smallest hints of regret. His heart is still pounding. You can feel the way it pounds against your shirt. He was afraid for you. You made him afraid that something had happened. You’re concerned about the reactions the others will no doubt give you when you arrive.

Maybe you should have stuck a little closer? Or at least tried to call out and regroup faster than you did. You’re too tired to fully feel regret though. You can admit that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want to break my ankle on the trail.”

“I would have healed you anyway. Or we could have had Epona do something or Twilight or Warrior, he’s pretty strong too.” Hyrule huffs and pulls you a little closer to his side when he feels you slipping.

You raise an eyebrow and lightly smack him by the side of his head. “And what would that have accomplished? What do they have to do with it?”

“They could have carried you.” Hyrule mumbles.

“But you’re carrying me right now.” You poke his cheek. “More or less anyway.”

“And I don’t know if I can continue to do it for as long as they would have been able to do it.” He sighs for the umteenth time. “They’re better than me at this.”

“I’ll pull my own weight in a moment, just let me wake up a bit more.” You promise and gently bonk your head against Hyrule’s. You take a moment to breathe and take your weight off of the young hero so that you both can walk easier through the dark forest. “I really didn’t mean to go off on my own.”

Hyrule bonks his head against yours in return. “I know I know. Just don’t do it again. I actually had to witness everyone freak out and let me tell you it’s not pretty.”

You grimace. “How much trouble do you think I’m going to be in when we meet up with everyone again?”

Hyrule actually takes a moment to think about it and smiles. “Lots.”

“Fun.” You groan. “What do you think they’ll do to me?”

“Punishment probably.”

“Like what?”

“Chaperone. Making sure someone is walking next to you at all times.”

“Well that’s a given.”

“Or a lecture and leave it at that.”

“That’s worse!” You cry.

#linked unverse #linked universe x reader #lu hyrule #linkeduniverse

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raeofsky · 1 year

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How old do you think Time is, both physically and mentally?

#rae asks #linked unverse #linkeduniverse #lu time #post your answer in the comments #I think it’s an interesting question #you have to wonder how many times he changed time #I’d say what I think but I wanna see your guys’ thoughts first

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taddy-cat · 3 months

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The Wimdy boi found a Kiwi bird. He's very happy about this. His new bird friend is just eepy

(I'm too tired right now to blend out the shadows or add highlights. So you guys get it as is)

#linked universe #legend of zelda #loz #taddy drew a thing #lu #loz lu #legend of zelda linked universe #lu wind #linked unverse wind

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captain-krow-drozdov · 3 months

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I Need A Crossover Fic Where Totk!Link (Tears? Kingdom?) Meets Aoc!Link.

I Need Totk!Link To Be Tired Feral, Not Quite Domesticated (He Can Still Frequently Be Found In The Wild In Nothing But His Boxers Throwing Hands With Monsters) But Like He Seems Like A Totally Chill Guy Who Just Really Likes Cooking But The Second You Look Away From Him Totk!Link (Imma Just Call Him Kingdom) Has Already Set Something On Fire And Built His Own Devine Beast Out Of Random Scraps.

Kingdom/Totk!Link: Castles Haunted.

Age/Aoc!Link, Confused And Signing Back: What?

Kingdom, Grabbing Age By The Shoulders: Castles Haunted.

Aoc!Purah, Side Eyeing Kingdoms Scars From Literally Dying Plus The Prosthetic Arm Situation: I'm Sensing There's A Story There?

Kingdom, Waggles Around Rauru's Arm With A Shit Eating Grin: Demon King Ate My Arm. I Got This One From A Dead Guy.

Aoc!Purah, Who Was Already Confused By A Link That Talks Slowly Pulling Out A Notebook And Pen: I Wish To Study You.

I Need To Know How The Aoc!Champions Would React To Totk!Link/Kingdom In All Their Scarred Missing Arm Glory Absolutely Destroying Monster Hoards In A Blue Backless Dress And Some Bloody White Thigh High Boots (Frostbite Top + Royal Guard Trousers).

Not To Mention Totk!Link/Kingdom Pulling Out The Fuckin Earthquake Technique While Fighting Only To Find Out That The Yiga Are Actually Chill Here???

They Either First Meet Kingdom Via Him Just Vibing In Gerudo Town Enjoying Being Drinking Age Decked Out In The Frostbite Armour Or They Witness Totk Engineering Atrocities During An Unusual Monster Hoard.

#captain's posts #age of calamity #tears of the kingdom #aoc link #totk link #im a sucker for link meet link fics i blame linked unverse fics #i need totk link to get tossed into aoc hyrule #i spose this could count as linked universe but idk

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daily-linkclick · 2 years

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daily link click: 5/16/22

#shiguang #sgdlr #link click #cheng xiaoshi #cxs #lu guang #lg #this is more of my actual art style than the semi realistic one i go for here #honestly my style goes weep woop idk what it even is #but its this avatar-esque kinda art ig!!#lmk if you prefer this :)#also this is unversity era gang heehee #this was supposed to be a doodle but then .#a whole piece maybe idk lets see

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highhhfiveee · 6 months

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please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,

okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]

sangria

tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]

link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸

okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.

you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.

the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.

you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.

you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.

you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.

he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.

you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.

mukrrrrrrrrrrrr

molwwwwwwwwww

gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL

exhibit a.

y/n are you drunk

….

………..

…………………………….

y/n

4 F R E E dwinks

downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH

pArTyz rool xp

mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?

"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"

mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."

he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.

harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...

he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.

your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.

you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.

you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.

he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.

"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.

he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.

you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"

"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."

"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"

mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.

"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."

"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.

"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.

you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."

"y/n..."

"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"

"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”

"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"

mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.

"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“

"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."

your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,

"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."

you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.

you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."

"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."

"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."

"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”

"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.

he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.

there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.

"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."

he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.

you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.

"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."

he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.

"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."

mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.

"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."

your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.

"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.

"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.

the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"

"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.

it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.

your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.

you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.

"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...

"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.

he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?

"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.

it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.

he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.

he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".

you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.

when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.

you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.

this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.

"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?

"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."

you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.

"me too, y/n. me too."

this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #faire's mike schmidt <3 #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson #faire answers asks #this man is sweet and gross and that's hot tbh #like...to ruin someone so close to you....having to keep it secret #lord jesus christ

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aqricus · 11 months

Text

SAY MY NAME ! feat. xiao

V SAYS . . . “who knew that giving you one little gift would open xiao’s eyes to how he feels about you? but, is it enough to convince him to act on it?”

+ WC . . . 3.6k

+ sfw material. female reader. angst. fluff.

!! this was supposed to be nsfw, but i made it into two parts for the sake of making the plot fit in a way that feels comfortable and fluid to me. the NEXT part will contain nsfw material !!

“if you ever find yourself in danger, or if you cannot bring yourself to do what is necessary, speak my name, and i will appear to you.”

in xiao’s mind, it was but a trivial blessing, a privilege well within his sphere of work and achieved without significant effort. but, as appealing as it may seem to be deemed worthy of wielding his name like a baleful curse, he believes that it is all he can give you. he is clumsy and unversed in matters of human relationships, and he does not serve much benefit in the way of offering applicable advice or the types of elegant, lyrical compliments he occasionally hears pour from the lips of poets and performers entertaining audiences near the boundaries of the city.

it doesn’t help that you hardly ever find yourself in sticky situations or toeing the line between safety and peril; because, although he is grateful for your security and the lack of harm you face, he simply wishes that he could offer you more. when he first relinquished such a power to you, it was nothing more than a precaution. you’ve never been one to gamble with your life or plunge headlong into potential danger on a whim, instead avoiding trouble within the walls of your picturesque cottage.

in fact, the only reason you even encountered him at all was due to the fact that a band of lawlichurls abandoned their usual routine and began chipping away at the outskirts of the city. you merely happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

he could tell you weren’t an adventurer with a single glance as you thanked him profusely for his intervention. you were frazzled and in clear disarray as you fluttered anxiously around him, hands gripped with a noticeable tremor as you awkwardly attempted to gather the collection of wildflowers and meticulously snipped mint plants that had been stripped from your grasp and scattered about the area during the mayhem. your explanation of the purpose of your whereabouts was linked together into one unbroken, jumbled stream of vowels and consonant. you were tense, movements rigid and tight like the string on a bow drawn taut.

however, it wasn’t until you finally began to mellow out and he dared to step closer, fist stuffed full of stems he managed to snag before the wind could whisk them away, that he noticed how captivating you appeared that night. despite your dress being rumpled and creased beyond simple adjustment, there was no mistaking the charming cascade of the violet fabric around your figure, loose enough for the hem to swirl around your ankles with each gust of wind yet tailored to inconspicuously highlight even the slightest curves embellishing your physique, right down to the gentle bend of your knee as you shifted your weight.

it reminded him of a sculpture he’d once stumbled upon among the ruins of a forgotten town sunken into the earth—a woman seated upon a pedestal with her head lifted toward the cracked ceiling, draped in overgrown vines and stained with moss yet carved with such care that every smooth edge and shape appeared soft to the touch.

you stood tall, even as the material draped over your body rippled beneath the force of the breeze. you radiated goodwill—your profuse expressions of gratitude, the benevolence that twinkled in eyes far more unguarded than any he’s had the pleasure of meeting in a long time, and especially the kind voice that fussed over blood that didn’t even belong to him until the words of rejection brewing on his tongue withered.

there he was, soaked in cerise and sharp gaze piercing you to your core as if your flesh were as delicate as gossamer, yet not once did the warmth in your gaze waver. you were afraid, of course you were, he could see it in your eyes, plain as day. but you approached him, regardless.

still to this day, he wonders why.

at the time, when you insisted that he allow you to repay him in some way, he became painstakingly aware of how rough—how calloused and hardened—his hands were compared to yours, which he was positive had never clutched anything sharper than a kitchen knife. he had half a mind to withdraw from your touch; but beneath the silver wash of moonlight, you appeared so serene that he wondered if such an action would be enough to upset you, so he stilled instead. he paid no heed to the figure veiled by your attire or really anything regarding your features. all he could focus on was the manner in which you gazed upon him without judgment, as if he hadn’t just effortlessly terminated an entire band of monsters within seconds, as if his awkward silence and uncertainty when speaking to you didn’t exist, as if his conspicuous appearance didn't deviate from the city's normalcy . . .

as if he was just like you.

you weren’t keen on allowing him to slip away so easily, either—at least, not without learning his name, which evolved into his favorite treat, which then developed into an invitation to meet the following day so that you could give him said favorite treat as a proper show of your gratitude. he didn’t quite understand what prompted him to take you up on your offer. perhaps it was because of how swiftly the chill of loneliness sank back in as soon as you vanished down the hillside with a secretive grin. maybe it had something to do with how the prospect of being able to ascertain whether or not the uncritical sincerity he’d seen from you the day prior was actually real made the corners of his lips quirk upward.

he may not have accepted an outright wish to meet you, but you piqued his interest. and, if nothing else, he knew that he wouldn’t be entirely adverse to seeing you just one more time before your paths would diverge once more.

but, you clearly had no intention of allowing it to be just “one more time.” time and time again, you would either stumble across him in a stroke of fortune or scrape together a reason to cross paths with him. he could not understand why you were so adamant about being in his presence if not for the need for protection or guidance pertaining to the land. even for the most mundane activities, like filling wooden basins with water near the edge of the river or assisting you with carrying something you clearly could manage on your own, you found pleasure in simply having him by your side, undaunted by and comfortable in even the longest stretches of silence that would settle between you.

he didn’t find it troublesome by any means. rather, he quite enjoyed being in your company, even if his attempts at reciprocating were poor at best. there is no history between you—no bloodstained, fractured past where you’ve witnessed his behavior at his worst or the horrific extent of his capabilities as a warrior. he was simply xiao, an enchanting individual who’s never had the pleasure of tasting a strawberry tart or experiencing lantern decorating but also happens to be your knight in shining armor.

you made him feel welcome, valued beyond his physical prowess, yearned for in his entirety. and in return, he’d grown to care for you deeply, craving a level of intimacy he’s had yet to explore.

even now, you don’t shy away from him, eyes wide and glimmering with excitement as the weight of his gift to you settles in. “really?” xiao remains rooted to his spot in the grass even as you step closer, close enough for him to count the individual fragments of rose quartz adorning the gold chain hooked around your throat—close enough to touch him, if you so pleased. “so, that means i’ll be able to call you whenever i want?”

he should have anticipated that you would completely bypass the fine details, your brain’s processing capacity reduced to nearly tunnel vision as you zero in on the overarching meaning instead: no more having to hope that you both are in the right place at the right time, no more wondering whether or not he’ll make the first move, and no more having to trek through the wilderness alone.

he nods and loosely folds his arms over his chest. “correct, but—”

before he can finish speaking, a dazzling smile blooms on your features, and your hand darts toward him without warning. he falls silent at the sensation of your fingers clasping his, drawing his hand into the space between you and cradling it within your own. he can detect a floral fragrance wafting from your skin . . . wisteria. it envelops his senses, intertwining with the comforting presence of your touch to send a ticklish, tingling sensation dispersing through his stomach. he swallows.

“this is so cool!” you squeeze his hand. “thank you, xiao.” the corners of his lips tilt upward into a small smile, and his muscles relax.

but, just as quickly as your grin appeared, it vanishes, along with your touch as you release him without warning. wait. his widen a fraction as he witnesses the warm gleam in your eyes dim into a muted reluctance. you withdraw from him, and in one fell swoop, the candlelight flickering in his chest is extinguished, reduced to nothing more than a cold whisper of smoke. wait. he’s never witnessed this behavior—this uncertainty—from you before. did he accidentally squeeze your hand? did you see something?

“wait, so . . .” you begin hesitantly, and xiao’s hand sinks back down to his side. he feels . . . he doesn’t know. he can’t quite place it, but it leaves his stomach roiling with malaise all the same. “all i have to say is your name, right? just ‘xiao’ and that’s it?”

“uh . . . yeah.”

rejection. he recalls the sting of it in the pit of his stomach, not quite foreign and not quite familiar, but never rendering him as defenseless as he is now. he’s become used to the solitude, accustomed to most regarding him with suspicion or fear. but to be subjected to such kindness from the first encounter, only to then have such a luxury slip from his fingertips without as much as a hint—this is new.

the swelling of your chest beneath your blouse as you inhale is barely noticeable. “have you always been able to hear when i say your name?” you question.

that’s probably the issue, his shoulders square. from what he’s learned from observing humanity, disregard for an individual’s privacy has never been taken kindly. “no, no,” he rushes to placate you. “i can only hear it if i establish a link between our consciences, which would allow for minimal communication.”

“oh . . .” your eyebrows furrow as you mull over his explanation, only for your easy smile to return a moment later. “oh!” the sight alleviates the coil of tension constricting around his chest, and he exhales slowly, with it expelling the besetting pessimism clouding his psyche. you laugh, and xiao relaxes. “sorry, that got a bit tense.” you dismiss with a breezy wave of your hand. “so, what about in conversation? can you hear that? like if i just mention your name.”

he shakes his head once more. “not quite. it’s more complicated than that. so far, i’ve only been able to hear it in times of desperation or fear . . . or, really just when you need me.” he explains. “let’s say you get attacked or get lost in the woods. you call me, and i’ll hear you. but, if you mention my name in conversation, i won’t.”

“oh, that’s a relief,” you shift your weight onto your right leg. a relief? does that mean she talks about me? xiao can’t help but search your eyes in question, seeking any kind of emotion to hint at the circumstances you may have mentioned his name in. why would you? do you speak highly of him? who do you speak about him to? how do you really feel about him?

almost as if his inquiries were spoken aloud, you shake your head. “i’ve mentioned you to ying’er in the past, but it’s only her, so you don’t have to worry—that is, if you don’t want people finding out about how much time we spend together. i told her all about how you saved me that one day, and ever since then, she’d ask about you whenever i came back late.” still not convinced by the hesitation shadowing his expression, you continue with a quiet chuckle. “it’s nothing bad, i promise. all good things.”

xiao’s chest warms at the confirmation. “oh . . . i see.” a tacit question lingers between the two of you; it rests on his tongue, cumbersome and thick, and manifests in your gaze as buoyant twinkles of anticipation as you await his next words. what do you tell her? it sears the tip of his tongue, dances behind twin rows of teeth welded together. you both feel it, he can tell. but, even as your gaze yields nothing but an earnest clarity, he pensively tucks his forefinger beneath his thumb and presses down, popping his knuckle. he never truly realized how easy it was to be deprived of the comfort of having you by his side. it could happen at any moment; one wrong word, one wrong move, and he could chase you off for good. he’s only just begun to find his place among the outskirts of society—to find his place with someone. perhaps at the moment, it’s better to play it safe and admire from a distance, he reasons, just as he has been up until this point.

“that’s . . . nice. i’m glad.” the delivery is awkward, as well as his words, but he figures it’s better than unnerving you.

wrong choice. his lips part when you wilt subtly at his lackluster response, shoulders deflating the tiniest bit and smile now tinged with a twist of dry amusement. you don’t seem shocked by his decision to avoid the question, but your disappointment is palpable regardless. “oh, uh . . .”

but, before he can scrape together something else to say, you silence him with a gentle shake of your head. “you know, xiao,” despite your despondency, he can still sense the same warmth in your voice. “i like hearing your thoughts, even if they aren’t anything profound. i just like talking to you.” your eyes meet his. “i ask you questions all the time—far too many, probably,” you huff a small laugh, “and you answer them all. it’s not weird to have questions for me, too.”

but when will i know when i am toeing the line between acceptable and unacceptable? once again, his thoughts remain unspoken. “. . . you would be correct.”

“if you want something, xiao,” you finish, “then pursue it.”

“if you want something, then pursue it.”

at the time, xiao had received your words in stride; but at this moment, as he sits alone, perched upon a low-hanging branch with his back braced against the trunk and one knee drawn up against his chest, he can’t help but consider how ludicrous of a statement it really is. a short sigh is huffed from his lips as he absently twirls the stem of an apple blossom between the pads of his thumb and index finger. the ivory petals stained with blush-pink glow beneath the gentle caress of the moonlight, protruding from the shadowy, muted backdrop of the surrounding vegetation like a sore thumb. he ghosts the tip of his middle finger over the velvety canvas of the petals.

“hey, check it out,” xiao’s eyes bounced from your face to the freshly plucked flower cradled in your palms. “the apple blossoms are blooming early this year! they smell lovely, don’t they?”

you were right. they do.

“pursuing something simply because you desire it . . . what a foolish way to live.” xiao reflects with a wry smile. no one can have everything they wish for; to believe otherwise is not only idiotic, but it also promotes greed. during his lifetime, he’s witnessed his fair share of avarice and power grabs, all spawned from people’s ideas that they were capable of achieving it all; and, just like clockwork, it would bait them into a downward spiral that would result in their own destruction. everyone is dealt their own hand of cards and is born to fulfill a certain purpose, himself serving as a prime example. to crave or demand something other than that would be . . .

but, then again, isn’t that exactly what he’s doing now? what he’s been doing?

his encounter with you that day was only supposed to be a one-time occurrence. neither of you had any business being involved in each other’s lives; he was slated to remain a finely honed weapon of mass obliteration, and you were to maintain a peaceful life separated from combat. your kind nature was in danger of being tainted by and desensitized to his misdeeds, just as your compassion threatened to dismantle his brutal, black-and-white mentality surrounding the protection of liyue that had been established within his mind longer than you have been alive.

even so, you became a staple in his life in an effort that was not one-sided. you dared to pursue him, and he returned the favor.

his forehead creases thoughtfully. pursue what you want.

what exactly do i want?

your face flickers through his mind, and his brows twitch. he wants you, he’s come to terms with that. but, what does that mean? what does he want from you? what does he want with you?

if it were as simple as he wished it was, he would find a way to keep you closer, find a way to have access to your voice first thing in the morning and last thing at night. he wants the freedom to dispose of the hesitance that restrains his fingers from brushing leaves from your clothes or from snaking around your waist to steady you whenever you trip. he wants to be able to comfortably ask you for more of that almond tofu you made him two weeks ago. he wants you to call him to accompany you whenever the sun begins to set.

he just wants . . . you. he wants more of you—all of you in your entirety.

however. . . the apple blossom slips from his fingertips, drifting to rest among the grass below. what i want does not matter. to dare to hope for a companion . . . such a desire is far too audacious for someone whose pedestal is composed of severed limbs and lifeless bodies--for a being whose soul is bound to solitude and tongue bound to silence by his karmic debt. perhaps he deserves it, perhaps he doesn’t. he doesn’t really think about it anymore.

but you certainly do not. it would only make way for misery and discontent to bleed into your soul, and he would shoulder the guilt for the remainder of his life.

he swings his legs over the side of the branch and allows himself to plummet through the air before landing nimbly upon the earth below. but none of that matters, anyway, if you do not reciprocate his feelings. without your tolerance of him being further interwoven in your life, he would never be able to completely fulfill his goal of being embraced with wholehearted acceptance. his hands seek anchorage in the fabric of his pants, porcelain fingers twisted into royal purple as he tethers himself back to reality. there are one hundred reasons for you to reject him and one hundred more that prove you deserve someone else, more familiar with affection and expressiveness, someone who isn’t only confident and willing to take charge of the situation when ensuring your safety.

the apple blossom catches his eye from its place nestled among the grass, and he picks it back up. it’s undamaged, still radiant and pure despite the thin, sanguine crescents lodged beneath his fingernails and the papery film of dirt layering his fingertips.

i’ll leave it here. he twirls the stem between his fingers. there is no reason to risk soiling it.

your smile appears in the back of his mind, nothing more than a brief flicker of a memory.

he stills, and after a moment of silence, he tucks the flower into his pocket.

#genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #xiao

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