#but when i came back up he was facing the corner

[shaisuki]

❝ THE WOLF I PICKED UP AS A STRAY IS A BUM.ᐟ CLINGY TOO! ❞

content warnings. hybrid toji, suggestive themes, nsfw under the cut.

wolf! toji that you picked up on one windy night. littered with cuts and one of his wolf ears are cut. probably from a fight and thus, you brought him home to take care until he's healed.

wolf! toji who took a liking to you. he never left your house and lives as a free loader who never offered to get a job to pay for the bills in exchange for living with you. he only stares at you. a mischievous glint in his eyes and a cocky smirk. “i'm guarding your house, sweetheart.” he said with a wink and you kind of wanted to slap the shit out of him.

wolf! toji that annoys the hell out of you. trying to get a rise and won't behave unless you threatened to kick him out which works but only for a certain amount of time and he's back on to you again.

wolf! toji beefy body with broad shoulders and everything about him screams big. menacing even with the scar in the corner of his mouth. his ears twitching and that sharp fangs that you knew can tear huge chunks of flesh from how he eats. his strength jaw can crush anyone with a single bite. despite all of that features of him, he didn't use it to intimidate you.

wolf! toji is a huge lazy bum. who sleeps most of the day and lays on the windows where sunlight streams and he's peacefully snoozing. who only wakes up when it's time to eat or to annoy you. messes up with your things and leave them for you to clean.

wolf! toji who can be surprisingly affectionate when you need it. his ears twitching when he senses you're in distress or particularly sad. his large palms patting your head and will sometimes hug you and let you cry on his shoulder. his huge fluffy tail gently wagging and you can hear it gently thumping.

wolf! toji who enjoys teasing you. pinching your round cheeks until they puffed out. chuckling as you slap his hand away and hears you grumbling. grabs your love handles and squeezing the supple flesh earning another rise out from you. hes careful not to scratch you up with his sharp nails.

wolf! toji who may have been slowly falling in love with his human. he didn't know where it started but he suddenly seeks your warmth in most times and starting to wonder what time will you get home from your work. repeatedly glancing at the clock and yawns from how bored he was without you. the longer you took, the more he hallucinates of you. your laugh bouncing on the walls. your presence at every corner of your home and just you.

wolf! toji who gets too possessive when you came home stinking of a male human. you didn't know cause you don't have super senses like him and you're just confused why he starts growling at you. immediately scenting you afterwards and pulling you close to his muscular body. squirming and writhing and going as far to punch him to get out of his grip didn't work. he didn't even budge.

wolf! toji growling at you from trying to move away from him. keeping a tight grip to your plush waist as he settled you on his lap. straddling him with your thick thighs and feeling the hardness of cock. rubbing between your clothed cunt. you can hear him grunting at the skin of your neck where your pulse is. “mine. you're mine.”

wolf! toji biting the skin to mark you as his. sharp canine teeth digging at your skin enough to bruise before licking it with his tongue to sooth you from the pain he had caused. nuzzling at your neck after that. inhaling your scent that without a doubt no trace of any other men beside him.

wolf! toji is grabbing your soft chin and he melts at the look in your face. the color of your eyes meeting with his own green ones and he loses at the sight of your parted lips. beckoning him to kiss you and he did. it was messy. all tongue and drool seeping on the corners of his mouth. lost in the feeling of your soft lips against his. giving you no time to reciprocate as he claimed you. grabbing the back of your head to deepen the kiss and burying yourself in the hardness of his body.

wolf! toji who breaks the kiss. licking the remnants of his spit and yours in his lips. his thumb caressing your round cheek. no words are said and it was clear that you belong to him and only him.

wolf! toji is now your partner. a clingy one and too overprotective who never left your side. acting as a guard dog whenever you two shop. growling and glaring to everyone who gets closer to you. baring his sharp canine teeth and snarls to someone who dares to approach you. he stands behind you. looking for any threats that may harm you. he can't have you being put in danger. that's what he reasoned when you scold him for being territorial and he brushes it off. he also likes his view when he's behind you.

wolf! toji who have no concept of personal space. he's almost your shadow now. follows you everywhere. in the kitchen where you cook, he standing behind you. watching you prepare a meal for him and yours. in the bathroom who insists that he should be there — what happens if you slip? no one will be there except for him. you sprayed him water once and he hates it but didn't deterred him. in the living room where either he's sprawled above you, crushing you with his weight or you on his lap while you finish a work.

wolf! toji is so handsy at you. grabbing whatever flesh he can get. kneading and squishing every part of your body especially your round belly where he grabs the malleable flesh. feeling it in his hand and loving the way it feels against his hand and then to your boobs. palming it every change he can get. you're his human-sized stressball.

wolf! toji that loves when you touch him. he may not say it but his tail says so. you teased him for it and he only grumbles. a slight blush dusting on his cheeks. he gives in when you scratch his head. his wears twitching and you hear that familiar sound of his tail wagging thumping against the floor. he gets so putty at your touch but he won't tell you.

wolf! toji who loves the closeness with your body and his. contrasting his hard ones with your softness. he likes it how feels against his and how it rubs against his skin when he fucks you senseless. plowing into your fat pussy like there's no tomorrow and being hypnotized from how your body jiggles beneath him.

wolf! toji that loves to eat your fat pussy. his tongue are perfect for it. it's wide and take your whole pussy lips in them. giving you broader and wider licks whole he catches your juices on his tongue. his tail wagging on response from how happy he is. tasting your sweet cunt of his mouth.

wolf! toji stretching you with his big, fat cock. folded you up in a mating press. drooling at the sight of your belly being squished and your fat pussy swallowing his cock whole. growling at the sensation of being buried in your wet, velvety heat.

wolf! toji who pounds in you with no tomorrow. fucking you in a wild abandon while he grabs your plush waist for better grip. the flesh spilling into his large palms. beads of blood surfacing where his sharp nails had digged into your skin. relishing into your moans and gasps.

wolf! toji who cums a lot. his thick warm cum seeping into the crevices of your awaiting womb. spurts after spurts of his cum being loaded inside of you. desperation evident from how badly he wants to fill you with his cum.

it's not the end for that not when wolf! toji who loves you very much. he ain't good, not kind either and pretty mean to you but he can be soft when he wants to. just with you though. he already claimed you, marked you. there's no running from him when he got you wrapped around his big, beefy arms. snuggling into you like there's no tomorrow and definitely not letting you go.

help your struggling writer with a coffee.

[loves0phelia]

hi! I wanted to request a cute jj fic where they’re just being cute together and he’s overprotective (can you base it off an episode in the series?)

thanksss!

Risking

Summery: Moments JJ risked his life to protect you.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: near death experiences, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm like 100% sure this is not what you meant but this is what i came up with, thank you for requesting xxx (for anyone that requested i will do them all eventually, might just take time)

JJ was always protective of his friends no matter what, whether it was in a fight, an argument or just a small altercation, he was ready to protect. But with you, it was quite different. He wasn't just protective, he was ready to kill to assure your safety. He followed behind you wherever you went like a personal guard. He would do anything to shield you from any harm.

The first time you noticed just how much he was committed to your protection, was during the Kegger at the beach. You and him had begun dating a couple of months prior and it was the first beach party of the summer, where kooks, pogues and torons met to have a good time.

“Hey, y/n! How are you doing?” Your head turns when you hear the call of your name. You notice  Topper, Rafe, and Kelce approaching. Their presence quickly becomes hard to ignore. They are always looking for trouble, even when there is none.

“Oh, uhm I'm good Rafe, thank you for asking” You began looking around for the familiar head of blond hair you loved combing your fingers through but only failing.

“Looking for someone?” It was now topper's time to speak up.

“Actually yes, I'm looking for JJ-”

“Yeah I don't actually care, you want a drink?” Topper smirked, a glint of arrogance in his eye; it was in no way comforting. It was malicious.

“No thanks, I'm not drinking tonight…” You slowly start backing up feeling cornered by the trio.

“Relax, we’re just being friendly. Have a drink with us. Unless, of course, you’re too good for that. But you won't deny a free drink, right, pogue?” Topper pushed and almost shoved the red plastic Solo cup filled with beer that tasted like pee in your face.

“What the fuck is going on here” Sighing in relief, A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you heard his voice coming up behind you. You turned to see JJ striding over, eyes hard and jaw clenched. His gaze flicked from you to the three boys, warning in his stare.

“There you are, we were just offering your little bitch of a girlfriend a drink, isn't that right y/n?” Topper laughed, feigning innocence. 

JJ didn’t back down, his voice low but clear. “The fuck did you just call her?.”

Topper took a step closer, his grin mocking. “I called her a bitch. What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?” He laughed and earned a slap on the back from Rafe.

Before anyone could process what was happening, JJ's fist was swinging toward Topper landing a solid punch across his jaw.

The air was thick with tension, and you instinctively took a step back—until Rafe's hand caught your arm, gripping tight.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, trying to pull free.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Seeing you struggle, JJ’s face darkened

JJ lunged toward Rafe as Topper troubles to stand from the sand still winded from the hit he received. Then, In a second everyone at the party began circling the fight.

Both blond boys punched and kicked around earning cheers from the crowd surrounding.

“Stop!” John B and Pope push through and quickly pull JJ off the bloodied Rafe.

“Lay a hand on her again, and you’re dead. Got it!?” He screamed at his face before getting completely pulled off.

JJ’s demeanour softened as soon as He turned to you, “Hey, you alright?” he asked, gently brushing his fingers over the red handprint on your arm.

You let out a relieved breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m fine, thank you,” you whispered, slowly raising your tippy toes to press a delicate kiss on his cheek.

His hand raised to your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you away from everyone. He couldn't wait to lay in bed close to you.

the second time you noticed was when he was ready to take a bullet for you. You and your friend hadn't expected your summer to turn into a treasure-hunting adventure but here you were with a nugget of badly melted gold in your pocket on your way to a “warehouse”.

“Is there really a warehouse out here?” Your friend, Kiara asked, confused. The route you were on only had forest and maybe a couple of cabins nearby, no place where someone could be keeping 70k in cash.

“That's what she said, hehe that's what she said” JJ smirked and you from your spot on his lap slapped his thigh and gave him a warning but playful look.

‘Shut up” Pope said unimpressed which only made JJ's smile fall into a frown.

“Sorry baby,” You said and kissed the tip of his nose and his smile was back immediately. He had already forgotten his bad joke.

“Cops? out here?” Your little make-out session was interrupted by the flashing of the red and blue lights and siren.

“Hide the gold!” All the pogues panicked and tried acting as innocent as possible, but JJ only tightened his arms across your lower stomach holding you against him.

Barry appeared, his face hidden with a skull scarf, and in his hand was a shotgun. He raised it, pointing it directly at John B. in the driver's seat. You all froze, hearts pounding.

“Why don't you get out and raise those arms in the air” Barry sneered. “Right now!”

John B stepped out of the van, hands raised high in fear.

“Come everyone get out! Let's go”  Shaking you slowly got up from your place in JJ's lap and got out of the car.

“There you go pretty girl, hurry up!” He pointed the gun in your face, the barrel touching your forehead.

“Relax bro!” JJ jumped out after you and instinctively pushed you behind him. His face was dark with anger as he screamed. Your heart jumped in your throat when the gun shifted from you to him.

“Stay back bitch!” he shouted at JJ.

“Face down in the ditch, get down on your knees” He threatened with his gun and pushed down Pope's head as you all got down in the dirt.

After a short while, Barry went into the van and went looking for the gold but as he was searching John b got up and went into his car to ambush him.

Thankfully his plan worked and as soon as John B got the gun out of his hand you all rushed to help. JJ ran and punched him in the ribs, Kie punched his face, Sarah pulled the car door on his face twice and you kicked him as hard as you could where the sun dont't shine.

Barry spat, his anger mingled with a hint of fear now. “You’re dead for this. You hear me? All of you!” You all just took what he had stolen from you and left.

Later that night in bed pressed against JJ's stomach at the chateau you thought about the situation.

“You can't jump in front of me when there's a gun involved” You whispered and JJ's rubbing movement on your back stopped.

“the hell I can't” he scoffed.

“You're gonna get hurt badly if you keep protecting me.”

“It's my job to protect you, if something happens to you I will literally die, I can't live without you” His sentence made your head shoot up.

“You mean that?”

“You're the love of my life y/n, nothing matters more to me than you.” You carefully laid your head back down on his chest where you could hear his heartbeat and hugged him tight, almost wanting to crawl into his skin.

The third time you were out in open water, nowhere to turn, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins. Sarah had gotten kidnapped by her family and you and the rest of the pogues were on a mission to save her.

The boat pitched and swayed on the ocean. JJ and you stood side by side, backs pressed to the railing, as you faced off against Renfield, an employer of Ward Cameron. 

The man grinned wildly, holding a machete with a terrifying confidence, the blade shining menacingly in his hands. 

“JJ look out!” He lunged forward, machete raised, his eyes locked on JJ. Your heart leaped in fear, but JJ ducked, narrowly dodging the swing. The machete sliced through the air, missing by an inch.

Before he could make another move, you stepped in, launching a punch right into his nose throwing him off his balance. But he quickly got back up continuing the fight.

Before JJ could fully react, Renfield rushed forward, landing a brutal punch across his jaw. The force of the blow sent JJ stumbling backward, right up against the railing. Disoriented, he struggled to regain his balance.

His vision was blurry but he didn’t miss how The blunt end of the machete in the man's hand was making a beeline for your head.

“Y/N!” He lunged from the floor and pushed you out of the way. 

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your feet as you watched JJ topple backward receiving the hit that was initially meant for you, arms flailing as he plunged into the dark, icy water below.

“JJ!” you screamed, rushing to the side, your eyes frantically scanning the water for any sign of him. The boat rocked beneath you as you leaned over, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

Without a second thought, you kicked the man and jumped in after your boyfriend.

“JJ!” You swam closer and closer until you reached his floating body, you held him and hugged him close to your body, elevating his face above the water.

“Please! John B.” You felt yourself sink further as you frantically moved your legs beneath you.

“Please, JJ I can't, I can't” You choked on the water filling your mouth.

As you sank several pairs of hands grabbed onto you and JJ pulled you onto a smaller boat when you realized your friends had saved you you rushed to JJ's side, begging, and shaking his shoulder attempting to bring him back.

“Please get up!” suddenly he began coughing up water and slowly opening his eyes.

“Oh my God” You sobbed and held his face gently with your hands.

“Sup” Everyone around you erupted in laughter and you laid your forehead on his chest giggling.   “Don’t… ever do that again,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

JJ chuckled weakly. “Can't promise anything”

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite the panic that still lingered. 

“I'm coming with you,” you argued.

“No you're not,” JJ said as he was putting his diving gear on.

“Yes, I am” You take the second wetsuit and start unzipping it.

“Hey, no” he takes it from your hands and puts it aside.

“Yes, JJ. I am going down with you whether you like it or not” Your tone hardens which took him aback, JJ rarely saw this bossy side of you, you were always soft-spoken and gentle or at least with him you were. 

After pulling on the suit and oxygen gear both you and JJ were ready to go down.

“Okay guys remember the safety stops, or else you get the bends” Pope warned and you both nodded.

The water was calm and clear. Underwater, everything was peaceful and quiet, the only sounds coming from the rhythmic hiss of your breathing through the scuba gear and the faint echo of distant waves above. It felt like a different isolated world.

He gestured to you, pointing toward a dark shape partially buried under a rocky overhang. You nodded, eyes bright under the goggles as you swam toward it, fins propelling you through the water. 

But before either of you could examine the wreckage further, a shadow passed over you, casting a sudden darkness across the sandy floor.

Just as you looked up, the unknown diver was on you. The stranger grabbed you by the shoulder, yanking you backward, forcing you to drop the small underwater flashlight you had been holding. 

“y/n!” JJ’s eyes widened as he took the spear he had brought down with him and stabbed the attacker without mercy. But that angered him. Quickly he turned and punched JJ, with his skills he swam quickly and locked JJ up in a room inside the wreck while he was disoriented, leaving you alone with the man.

“NO!” he yelled but it was muffled by the oxygen tube.

The stranger’s hands reached for you again, trying to get hold of your air tank, and when he did he cut off your oxygen supply. Your lungs burned instantly from the lack of oxygen and panic.    As soon as JJ managed his way out of the trap he was in, he shoved his regulator into your mouth, completely uncaring about his need for oxygen. He took your hand while you were taking desperate breaths and he kicked himself forward, rushing to the surface and escaping from the attacker.

As you broke through the water, you both gasped for breath and clung to each other, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Are you okay!” His hands reached for your face, and you only weakly nodded.

“Talk to me please, baby” 

“I'm okay” You swam closer to him and he held you without daring to let go until John B was near.

When you finally reached the safety of the boat you and your boyfriend sat close. You were still panting, your chest heaving but as you took another breath, you felt a sudden, sharp pain twist through your chest.

"Guys, are you okay?" Kiara asked, noticing the pained expression on your face.

You tried to respond, but winced, feeling an intense, stabbing ache radiate from your joints to his abdomen. Your head spun, and you suddenly felt nauseous as though your blood had turned to acid. Panic flashed in Pope's eyes as he watched you and his best friend struggle, the realization hitting him hard. 

"They have the bends, we need to get them to the hospital" Pope and Cleo slid their arms around JJ's back lifting him up and John B. and Sarah did the same to you. 

JJ panicked at the sudden disconnection between you too, You were so close now so far apart because of your friends separating you. 

“y/n” JJ moaned as pain shot through his side.

“We're getting you both to the hospital!” pope shouted. The ride felt like thousands of hours, the pain was unbearable. 

"Almost there, guys, just hold on," Sarah encouraged, as she tried making you both take deep breaths. 

The van rattled down the dirt road, jostling you and JJ in the back as you leaned against each other, pale and clammy, both fighting the building pressure in your heads and chests. 

“go, go, go” one of your friends screamed and tore the van door open pulling you out of the car. You struggled through the hospital door and in a second you were shoved into a small, cramped hyperbaric chamber that was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two.

After a couple of minutes of groaning, heavy breathing and twitching you both cooled down shoulders pressed against one another, his breath shallow and quick, matching your own in the tightness of the space. His fingers slid into yours sneakily.

JJ glanced over, a spark of guilt in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably now tracing his fingers on your face. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from all this” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, his face so close you could see every freckle on his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his hand brushed your cheek as he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'm glad you didn't,” you said. JJ’s hand lingered, his fingers warm against your skin, and you felt yourself leaning in, just slightly, as though pulled by a force.

“I'm glad you didn't because if you did I wouldn't be here with you ” you whispered, unable to look away.  Before you could stop yourself, you closed the gap, kissing him with a fierceness you didn’t know you had.

JJ’s lips met yours, soft and warm, and his hands found their way to your waist, pulling closer. The hum of the machine, the aching in your muscles, even the fear — all of it fell away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in this moment.

“It’s the first and last time I ever let something happen to you, got it?” You grinned and rolled your eyes. You shifted, grabbed a pillow and quickly pushed it directly in front of the circular window before climbing on his lap pressing a deep kiss to his plumped pink lips.

Only the two of you know what happened in that chamber in the minutes that followed.

[electrosuite]

bathroom sex with eddie munson pls!

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, public sex, descriptive sex, oral sex

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

You weren't sure you'd be able to pull it off, but when you finally convinced Eddie to come with you to your family reunion, you were ecstatic. You hated going to them; you always thought they were stupid and cheesy. But you knew this would be a perfect opportunity to introduce him to your whole family, saving you multiple occasions of meetings.

This year it was at your cousin's house in Carmel, Indiana, which was only about a forty minute drive. Eddie was so nervous to drive that you decided to do it, knowing the route better anyway.

"They're gonna love you."

"No, they're not."

"They're not like most people, y'know. They're not so judgmental."

"You say that."

"I know that. I promise they're gonna love you."

You could tell he still wasn't trusting of that, but you knew your family. And you knew they would love him.

But he mostly kept to himself or you. At one point, your aunt dragged you away to help set up some activity and he gave you a panicked look as you walked off.

When you came back to the table you'd left him at, he was gone. After asking around, you found him standing alone in a corner with a plastic cup full of some kind of soda.

You wrapped your arms around one of his and you could feel anxiety lift from his shoulders.

"Sorry," you said quietly. "She has the grip of an eagle. What are you doing over here?"

He shook his head. "Just standing." He dipped his head down a bit to kiss you.

You smirked at him for a moment, then looked around. When you saw that no one was looking, you grabbed the drink out of Eddie's hand and laid it on the bookshelf next to him.

"What are you-" You interrupted him by pulling him into the bathroom behind him. You locked the door behind you and leaned back against the door. "What are you doing?"

You just looked at him, putting on the face that he knew too well.

His eyes widened and he pointed at you. "I know what you're trying to do."

"What am I trying to do, exactly?" you asked coyly.

"Your family is right outside."

You were silent for a moment, and you could hear loud, muffled music begin to play through speakers all throughout the house.

"I dunno, I doubt they'd be able to even hear us talking."

"I don't wanna fuck up my first impression with your family."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just standing here." You adjusted your position so your hips pressed backwards against the door, accentuating your curves.

He stepped over to you slowly and stopped when he was only a couple of inches from your face.

"Oh, is that all you're doing?"

"All I'm doing."

He sighed teasingly, unable to hold back a smirk.

"You're such a tease."

He kissed you, his hands cupping your face. He kept you pushed against the door for a moment, not waiting long before pulling you by the face to the vanity. He scooped you up onto it and you leaned back against the mirror, his kisses following you.

You hiked your dress up to your hips and pulled your underwear to the side, Eddie crouching down and throwing your legs onto his shoulders. He immediately found your clit with his tongue and you gripped the edge of the sink, trying to be quiet even though the music outside was drowning out your voice.

Honestly, the fact that there were people — all of whom you were related to — that could hear you on the other side of the door was a bit of a turn on for you, and you weren't sure why.

Eddie seemed to be holding back a bit, and you knew why. Normally when he ate you out, he had you screaming just from that. He was incredible with his tongue, able to manipulate that sensitive little bud in ways not even you could. The combination of his tongue swirling and lips sucking was like the most intense vibrator ever, and it was all you wanted most of the time.

This orgasm wasn't even close to as intense as they normally were, because both of you knew that if they were, you'd get caught for sure. But it was still enough that you struggled to stay quiet.

"I don't have a condom with me," he whispered into your neck.

"S'alright." You leaned into his ear. "I wanted you to bust in me anyway."

He gulped at that, never fully getting used to hearing you dirty talk.

"You're disgusting," he joked. "Walking around your family reunion with my cum inside of you?"

"Mmm, yes please."

And with that, he was inside of you. His arms snaked under your knees and pressed them closer to your chest to allow himself to go deeper. He really filled you to your brim, and you didn't think you'd be able to take any more had he been even an inch bigger.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Eddie."

"Yeah?" he breathed. "How good?"

"So fucking good, Eddie. Fuck."

After a few more seconds, he pulled out of you and turned you around so you were facing the mirror.

"Look at yourself getting fucked."

You made eye contact with your reflection, seeing how lust-filled your eyes were. You felt him pull your loose hair into a ponytail with his fist, keeping a tight tension on your scalp. His other hand was on your shoulder, keeping you firmly in place where he wanted you.

You'd never done doggystyle with both of you standing. Usually you were on your knees on the edge of the bed and he was standing on the floor to keep better control, but this — your back arched, your head pulled slightly back, and your tits bouncing in the mirror — this was different.

It was better. Maybe you'd have to incorporate a mirror into sex every time from now on.

"Y/N, I'm already close."

"Already?" you moaned. "What, can't even last three minutes today?"

He yanked you back by your hair, your back flush against his chest. The hand in your hair was now around your neck, his other hand reaching down to finger you.

"Maybe I would if your whole family wasn't outside."

"Turning you on?"

He grunted and laughed as you moaned from the extra friction. It was literal seconds later that he had to clamp his hand on your mouth to keep you from screaming at your second orgasm.

And once it had ended, you felt his warm cum fill your hole, gushing out onto your thighs. That feeling alone could've made you cum again if he hadn't have stopped.

You both stood standing for a moment, your legs trembling slightly.

"Shit," he whispered, pressing kisses to your neck. When he pulled out, you felt cum dripping down your legs and you rushed over to the toilet, cleaning yourself up a bit. "Maybe we should fuck in public more."

[inkedinshadows]

The Path To Healing

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: A glimpse into different moments of Azriel's life: from his childhood trauma to the physical healing, from his struggles and his acceptance to the beginning of his mental healing journey.

Warnings: angst, self-hate, self-consciousness, violence and blood, mentions of torture, language, fingering (brief)

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: I might or might not have cried while writing some parts of this. I focused only on Azriel's hands, and I'm sure I only scratched the surface of what his trauma is. I'm nowhere close to an expert on any of this, but I tried my best and hopefully did it justice. @azrielappreciationweek

Pain was all he knew.

His eyes hurt from crying, and he desperately wanted to rub them, but he couldn't. He couldn't, because his hands… His hands…

More tears poured down his already puffed cheeks, and his cries turned into a choked sound—sobs that tore through his chest and shook his little body, his wings a dead weight on his back.

“Shh,” his mother murmured, her voice soothing, her touch gentle as she cupped his face. “It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay, baby.”

Azriel didn't know how to believe her. It seemed to him like nothing could ever be okay again. He couldn't feel his hands anymore—they had been replaced by a blinding pain that reached up to his elbows. All he could see when he looked down was a red splotch, too red to be normal.

When his father had heard his screams, he’d called the healers. By then, it was too late, and the damage was already done. But his father had merely given his half-brothers a disappointed look and dumped Azriel in his mother's care, as if he had become even more of a burden than before. He didn't know what he had done to deserve it.

His mom began to hum a lullaby, but Azriel could barely hear it over his sobs and whimpers. She took one of his shaking hands in hers as gently as she could, touching his marred skin when strictly necessary, but even that drew a shriek from him.

“I know, baby,” his mother whispered as she began wrapping his hand in new strips of clean fabric. “I know it hurts. But I need to bandage it so it can get better, okay?”

Azriel tried to hold back his cries of pain as she worked. He tried to focus on her face and the lullaby instead, but he kept praying through it all—to the Cauldron, to the Mother, to whoever was listening—that it would be over soon. Just like he had begged and prayed while his half-brothers had burned him, but no one had come then.

Now, though, his silent prayers were answered.

“There you go, my love,” his mom said softly, placing a kiss on his forehead. “All done. See? Does it hurt a bit less now?”

He looked down to find his hands covered in white linen. The tight bandages applied just enough pressure to reduce the pain, even if only by just a fraction. He met his mother's concerned gaze and nodded weakly, watching as the corner of her lips twitched upward. It didn't help much, though, and tears still streamed down his face.

“Come here,” she whispered, gathering his shaking body in her arms and holding him close to her chest. “My precious boy. You'll get through this, Az. I promise.”

Azriel buried his face in her neck and cried until he was too exhausted to do even that. But his mom never stopped singing him an old Illyrian lullaby, rocking him back and forth as if he were a newborn baby.

She kept going long after he fell asleep.

~~~~~~

Azriel was staring at his hands, at the ridges of his new scars. He knew he should be practicing, but he could only stare.

“What is it, sweetie?”

His mother came up beside him. His father had allowed her to see him a bit more over the last few months, not wanting to spend money on healers more than once every other week when they came to check on him and his progress.

Azriel turned his hands over, now looking at the backs of them. He still wasn’t used to seeing them like this. How much time had he spent looking at them? During those long hours in his cell with no light, he had thought about them endlessly.

Sometimes, he could swear the darkness whispered in his ear, soothing his mind until he finally fell asleep.

“They're ugly,” he said. His voice was flat, as if he was simply stating a fact. Because that's what they were to him—ugly, ruined, useless. Always shaking and itching.

His mother's soft hands enveloped his smaller ones in a gentle hold. “Look at me.”

He obeyed, meeting her tender, reassuring gaze. Even at his young age, he knew she loved him. His stepmother never looked at him like that, on the rare occasions she even bothered to acknowledge his existence.

“Your hands are not ugly, my child,” his mom assured him. Her tone was calm, but there was a new resolution etched onto her features. “They've just been through a lot.”

Azriel shook his head. “They're ugly,” he insisted. “No one else has hands that look like this. They're full of scars and cuts and…”

His voice trailed off as his mom extended her wings behind her. A twinge of pain crossed her face, and she could only unfold them a few inches, but it was enough for Azriel to see the twin long scars running down their length. He didn't know how she got them, but she once told him she couldn't fly because of them. He’d felt an odd sense of relief at that, knowing his mom couldn't fly either—that her blood, like his, urged her to take off and roam the skies, yet neither of them could.

“Do you think my wings are ugly, Az?” she asked. She still spoke with that soft tone, but it was now tinged with firmness.

Azriel immediately shook his head. “No,” he answered. “No, they're not ugly.”

“But they have scars. They're ruined and useless.” How had she known those were the words he used for his own hands? Had he said them out loud? “What are wings for, if not for flying? Yet I can't fly anymore.”

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. “Mom, no,” he said, decisive and unyielding. “Your wings are beautiful. You're beautiful.”

Her face softened, a smile blooming on her lips as she gently squeezed his hands. “Then your hands are beautiful too.” She lifted them to her lips, kissing each one. “Think of them not as reminders of pain, but of strength. You've suffered a lot, but you're stronger. You're healing. And one day, it won't even hurt anymore.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment. “Is it really like that?”

“Of course, baby,” she reassured him, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair.

He knew she was lying. He saw the pain on her face when she moved her wings. They still hurt sometimes. But he believed her anyway, because he needed to.

His mother let go of his hands and picked up the pen he had discarded just a few minutes ago. “Do you think you can practice a little longer?”

Azriel didn't want to. His fingers had gone stiff earlier, the constant itching even stronger now. But he didn't want his hands to be useless, so he took the pen from her.

Almost two sheets of paper were covered with just one word, repeated over and over. His own name. Easy enough to write, yet the letters were crooked and shaky, the ink smeared where his hand had accidentally trailed over it.

With a sigh, Azriel set the pen on the paper and tried his best to keep his hand steady as he resumed the exercise.

~~~~~~

Azriel really wanted to get laid.

There was no other way to say it. Every time he heard Cassian and Rhysand talk about a new girl they had slept with, he felt a pang of jealousy. He wanted to experience it too—to know what it felt like to have that kind of connection with someone and not have to resort to his own hand whenever he couldn't ignore his need.

But he had always been too shy to approach the pretty girls his brothers chatted up so easily. His hands did nothing to help his confidence.

Tonight, though, was bonfire night. Organized twice a year, it was held on the Spring and Autumn Equinox to celebrate the new season. And this year, Azriel had every intention of going home with a girl.

His brothers were laughing and pushing each other as they walked through the muddy streets of Windhaven. He wasn’t paying much attention to what they were saying—something about their earlier fight during training. No, Azriel’s mind was already focused on his plan.

He would keep a safe distance from the fire, where no incidents could happen. But he would scan the crowd of Illyrians for a female who caught his interest, and when he found her, he would approach her, talk a little, and then ask if she wanted to go somewhere more private.

Simple enough.

He was a warrior in training, after all. He had seven Siphons. He was a Shadowsinger.

He had nothing to fear from interacting with girls.

Yet, he couldn't recall the last time he’d started a conversation with a female. In the ten years he'd been at Windhaven, it had probably happened only with Rhys's mother. But she didn't count.

Someone bumped into Azriel, and, lost in his thoughts as he was, he almost fell to the ground. He managed to flare his wings to steady himself, glaring at Cassian as he regained his balance.

“Sorry about that,” Cassian said, though his snicker didn't make him sound particularly sincere. “I've been talking to you for two minutes, but you didn't hear a single word. What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Azriel mumbled, folding his wings behind him again. “Maybe you're just not worth listening to.”

Cassian gasped audibly, clutching his chest in mock heartache as a group of children sprinted by, headed for the square where the first booms of laughter and echoes of chattering rang out.

“Don't worry, Az,” Rhys chimed in before their brother could come up with a retort. “You'll get your first taste of sex tonight.”

Azriel shrugged off the hand Rhysand had placed on his shoulder. “Don't look in my mind,” he nearly growled, checking his mental shields just to be sure.

Both his brothers halted their steps and stared at him, twin shit-eating grins on their faces.

“I didn't,” Rhys said. “But thank you for confirming my suspicions.”

Cassian nudged him with an elbow, already teasing him about girls and first times and wingspans. With a snort, Azriel shoved him away and continued toward the bonfire, leaving the other two behind to push each other around, their chuckles chasing him down the street.

How they had guessed what he was up to, he didn't know. He’d been careful not to tell them, knowing their reaction would consist of snickers and jabs that he was in no mood for.

As he turned the corner, the square came into view. Just like every year, the bonfire stood in its center, rising several feet high and adorned with little homemade trinkets meant to bring good luck and a prosperous season when burned.

They would light it soon.

The square was already packed with people when Azriel reached it. Children ran around chasing each other, their laughs and screams echoing into the night. Warriors gathered in small groups, swords on their back and knives at their thighs or hips, not letting their guard down even during a festivity.

And then there were the females. Most sat together in a corner, chatting idly and glancing at the children from time to time. But some of them—the younger ones, the ones around Azriel's age—strolled in groups of two or three.

How was he supposed to approach them if they were always together? It was difficult enough when they were alone.

Azriel spotted Cassian and Rhys from the corner of his eye and moved deeper into the crowd, choosing to stand on the opposite side of the square from them. The last thing he needed was for his brothers to make fun of him.

Someone shouted a warning, and a moment later, the pyre was lit. Azriel flinched as flames erupted, pressing himself closer to the wall behind him. Even from this distance, he could feel the heat of the fire, warming his skin and casting a flickering glow all around.

He shut it out. He shut out the memory of what fire could do to flesh, the smell of burned skin, the screams and cries of a terrified eight-year-old boy. The shadows suddenly swirled around him, brushing against his arms and neck.

Past. Gone. Gone. Just memories.

Azriel closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, letting the truth they whispered calm his racing heart.

He sensed the girl before even the darkness could murmur of her approach.

He let his shoulders slump a little and slid his hands into his pockets, assuming a more casual stance. When he opened his eyes, she was watching him from a few feet away. Her head snapped around to stare at the bonfire as soon as she realized she'd been caught staring.

Azriel couldn't suppress his smirk. He had grown accustomed to females looking his way from the moment he’d hit puberty, but it still made him feel smug every time. Never mind that they didn't approach him—or that he never approached them.

But now, though. Now he would.

Taking one last deep breath, he took a nervous step toward her. And then another. She glanced in his direction, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, but one more step and Azriel was standing in front of her.

A few inches shorter than him, she didn't back away, her big brown eyes meeting his hazel ones. Her delicate face was framed by strands of wavy black hair that flowed past her shoulders, and he stopped himself before his eyes could travel downward to the curves shaping her slim body. She was pretty. Beautiful, even.

“Hi,” he said, attempting a smile. He wasn't sure it looked right.

The girl offered a small smile back. “I'm, uh… I didn't mean to stare. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It's alright.”

For a brief, awkward moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. Then Azriel realized she was waiting for him to say something more. Right.

“What's your name?” he finally asked, silently thanking the little shadow that had curled around his ear to whisper the suggestion.

“I'm Teagan.” The girl's smile widened. “And you're Azriel.”

Caught off guard, he blinked. “You know me?”

Teagan chuckled, a clear and crystalline sound that eased some of the tension in Azriel's body.

Some of it.

“I've seen you around,” she answered with a shrug. Firelight danced on her features. “There aren't many Shadowsingers here, you know. None, in fact. You're one of a kind.”

Her initial shyness seemed completely gone now. Good. That made one of them, at least. Because if her words were meant as flattery, they didn't work. Instead, they only made Azriel more nervous.

What if she had expectations? What if she started asking questions about his powers? What if she would be disappointed now that she was talking to him? What if she—

Azriel cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind at the same time. “Thank you,” he said.

Too stiff. Too short. Not an acceptable answer. But he didn't know what else to say. How was he supposed to talk to a girl when he’d barely had any social interaction for the first eleven years of his life?

But Teagan must have found his awkwardness endearing, because she smiled, amusement shining in her eyes. “Aren't you going to offer me some food?”

A blush crept up his cheeks as he glanced over to the few tables laid with food in one corner of the square. People were already gathering around them and filling their dishes. Cassian was there too, shamelessly flirting with a girl whose hands were already wandering over his chest.

Azriel turned back to Teagan and nodded, a shy smile forming on his face. “I am, actually.” He cleared his throat—as if it could help him sound more confident—then gestured to the tables with his head. His hands remained buried in the pockets of his coat. “Would you like to get some food?”

It came out too formal, and his posture was too rigid. And simply nodding toward the tables? Rude. How could Rhys do this so smoothly? How could Cassian be so bold and smug?

Teagan chuckled again, though. She looped her arm through Azriel's and steered him toward the food. “You've never done this before, have you?”

He almost choked. It was worse than he'd feared, then.

“No, not really… I…” His voice trailed off, and he had no idea how to recover.

She leaned in closer as they walked, and Azriel became acutely aware of just how close she was. Her body pressed against his side, and he could feel her breath on his neck now. He wanted to take her hand, or maybe even slide his arm around her waist. If only he had worn gloves, maybe he would have dared. Though he'd need to find the courage first.

“Am I the first girl you try to flirt with?” she asked, her tone teasing.

Try. Not just flirt, but try to flirt. He was failing so miserably. Maybe he should just give up and leave.

Azriel could only nod, his face a deeper shade of red than Cassian’s siphons.

“I think it's cute,” Teagan said, her big smile lighting up her pretty face. “I'm glad you chose me to be your first.”

If only she knew what kind of first Azriel hoped she would be… but judging by how things were going, he suspected they wouldn’t get that far.

“I… don't really know what I'm doing,” he admitted, unsure why he was even saying that. It probably wasn't a smart move to reveal it, but it was too late to take it back.

As they weaved through the crowd, Teagan stepped even closer to him, and in doing so, her wing brushed against Azriel’s. They both gasped, and though she smiled sheepishly, he didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “I just wanted to be closer to you. I really think you're cute. And I appreciate your honesty.”

Azriel smiled warmly, his heart thumping in his chest. He could still salvage this, maybe, so that his first interaction with a girl wouldn’t be a total failure.

As they stopped in front of the tables, he stepped back slightly to face her. “I think you’re cute too,” he said, meeting her gaze. He did his best not to sound shy or awkward. “You're very pretty.”

Her face lit up. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He was about to offer her some food when a group of kids suddenly weaved through the crowd and ran by. Azriel heard them coming and tucked his wings tightly, but Teagan either noticed them too late or couldn't fold her clipped wings any further.

The children bumped into her as they sprinted past, and she sucked in a sharp breath when one of them brushed her wing. Azriel was quick to grab her elbow to steady her, and something fluttered in his chest when she smiled in thanks. But then her gaze moved to his hand, still on her arm, and her eyes widened—in horror or shock, he couldn't tell.

He pulled his hand back as fast as he could, tucking it back into his pocket.

Too late.

Teagan swallowed, and the silence that stretched between them hit Azriel as painfully as a punch to the jaw.

“So,” he said eventually, feeling beyond awkward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “What kind of food would—”

“I'm sorry,” she interrupted, already taking a small step back. Her eyes darted to the pocket where he’d hidden his hand before looking at him again. No warmth shone in them now. “But I forgot I had to… do something very important with my friend. Maybe another time.”

Azriel stood there, watching her turn and walk away without another glance. The rejection left him reeling. His mother could say whatever she wanted about his scars not being ugly or horrifying, but he now knew better than to believe her.

His hands balled into fists, and he took a deep breath, flexing his fingers. Without bothering to inform his brothers—who were probably on their way to sleep with yet another girl, since their hands were perfectly normal and unscarred—Azriel left the square. He put a few buildings between himself and the ongoing festivities before taking off to the skies.

He didn't return until long after the sun had set over the horizon.

~~~~~~

Azriel wished he could say he felt at least a bit bad for his half-brothers as Rhys and Cass threw punch after punch at their jaw and stomach. But all he felt while watching the scene unfold was a deep sense of satisfaction, which only grew with every new groan.

When Rhys had told him he needed to talk to his father for court matters, Azriel had refused to go. He had no interest in seeing his father or the rest of his family again, and Rhys had understood, asking Cassian to accompany him instead.

But Azriel had followed them. There was no reason for Cass to be there too, not when he was no good at playing courtier. He doubted Rhysand's father had told him to bring Cassian along.

Hidden in the shadows in the corner of the room, Azriel watched in silence as his brothers—his real ones, the only ones who mattered, as far as he was concerned—landed blow after blow. He knew now this was the real reason they'd come here.

Cassian had been itching for a fight from the moment they arrived and he didn't do a good job at hiding it. Azriel wasn't sure Cassian even tried to hide it. Rhys looked more composed, the perfect picture of the future High Lord dealing with minor problems of his Court. But as soon as Azriel's father had left, both of them had turned to his half-brothers with pure rage in their eyes.

One of them had been either bold or stupid enough to smirk. “How's our bastard brother doing?”

Rhysand and Cassian had both snapped. Despite being a few years older, his half-brothers didn't stand a chance. A warm feeling of affection was the only thing filling his chest as Azriel watched the two Illyrians who had taken him in, taught him how to fly, and showed him what a real family looked like, beat the shit out of whom was supposed to be his actual family.

He didn't make a sound, using his shadows to conceal even his scent. They were all too busy to pick up on it, even more so now that the metallic scent of blood filled the air, but he preferred to be careful.

Azriel didn't know exactly how much time had passed when Rhys and Cass finally relented, their chests heaving and their knuckles smeared with red. They straightened their backs, Cassian’s wings still spread in a fighting stance. Rhys, on the other hand, looked more relaxed, but his cold expression betrayed him.

“Don't you dare speak of him like that again,” Cassian snarled. His voice was just slightly breathless despite the beating he'd just given. “Especially after what you did to him.”

Azriel fought the urge to look down at his scarred hands. Being back in his father's keep was enough to stir memories he had long tried to forget. Instead, he focused on his brothers, on how much they must love him to risk hurting and threatening the sons of an Illyrian lord because of what they'd done to him.

Rhys exchanged a knowing glance with Cassian, and they turned to leave, abandoning his half-brothers on the floor. But they stood with a groan, battered and bloodied, still as arrogant as before. If not more so, now that they needed to make up for their bruised ego after being beaten so easily by a half-Illyrian and a low-born bastard.

One of them, the oldest, flared his wings as if trying to appear more intimidating. “He deserved it,” he spat.

Azriel had to stop himself from lunging forward and burying his own fist in his half-brother's stomach. He wanted to make him understand, to wave his hands in front of his face and yell at him. See this? This is what you did to me. I was eight! How could I have deserved it?

But he remained still, standing in the corner with his hands balled into fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms.

Rhysand held back Cassian as he tried to pounce on Azriel’s half-brothers. Cassian looked outraged, as if he couldn't understand why he suddenly wasn't allowed to fight. But Azriel could see the expression on Rhys's face and knew his brother had something different in mind.

“You think Azriel deserved it?” he asked, his voice unnervingly calm. He looked a lot like his father now—aware that he didn't need to raise his voice or his fists for people to obey.

“Well, fortunately for you, I can't show you exactly what I think you two deserve,” Rhys continued, slowly slipping his hands into his pockets. “But I can at least give you a taste of it.”

Before anyone could move, a crack pierced the air, immediately followed by a sharp cry of pain as his half-brothers both collapsed to the ground once more. Their legs lay beneath them at strange angles, the bone of one protruding where it had pierced the skin. The scent of blood grew stronger as the white tiles turned red.

His mother would have disapproved, Azriel knew that. She believed vengeance should not be sought out, and that living well in spite of what had happened was more than enough. Perhaps she was right, and Azriel was as bad and cruel as his half-brothers, after all. But as he stood there, watching them bleed and whine and scream for a healer who didn't come, all he felt was a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing that they now felt a fraction of the helplessness he had felt when they burned him.

Cassian crossed his arms, a feral grin spreading across his face. “Stop crying, boys,” he taunted. “It's not like you won't heal.”

The corner of Rhys's lips curled into a smirk. “I put a shield around the room. No one can hear you or smell the blood. I think I'll leave it in place and let you crawl out to ask for help.”

With a glance to Cassian, Rhys gestured toward the door in a silent command, and they walked out without sparing the two Illyrians another glance.

But Azriel stayed a few more moments. Just long enough to see his half-brothers try to rise, fail miserably, and fall back on the floor. When they began to crawl, using their hands to drag themselves across the floor, smearing their blood over the tiles and their clothes, Azriel smiled.

He didn't care if they were spouting insults at him and his brothers. He didn't care what kind of person that made him. The sight of his half-brothers crawling and bleeding delighted him.

With one last look at them, Azriel winnowed away, his heart full of love for the two brothers the Cauldron had blessed him with.

~~~~~~

It felt like centuries had passed since Azriel had last been this nervous around a girl. It had likely been over a hundred years, if not more, since he couldn't recall the last time he went on a date. Even longer since he’d had a genuine crush. Normally, he just approached girls, or they approached him, and things quickly escalated into a night of sex. But it was nothing more than that—just fucking.

With you, it was different.

He met you a couple of weeks ago when he walked into your little bookstore to buy a present for Nesta's birthday. You were so nice and radiant that he couldn't stop thinking about you, and he lost count of how many times he came, buying books he didn't need and asking for recommendations only to listen to you talk. And then he had finally asked you out, and your smile had lit up the whole shop as you said yes.

He was standing on the other side of the street, watching as you closed up the store for the day. Your dress flew around your legs in the evening breeze, and your hair was styled in a simple bun on your head.

Azriel smiled as you crossed the street. As usual, he had to hold back his shadows as they swirled excitedly around him. “You look lovely,” he said when you stopped in front of him.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, lowering your gaze for a second before looking at him with a smile. “You're not too bad either.”

He chuckled softly. “Thank you.” Offering his arm, he gestured to the street. “Shall we?”

You looped your arm through his, and together you strolled along the Sidra, your steps unhurried.

Conversation flowed easily, and Azriel relaxed more as you talked about everything from your job to his preference for flying over winnowing. His shadows, which had lingered around his wings, vanished completely. But then you got to the little restaurant where he had reserved a table, and he grew nervous once more.

Even with your arms linked, your focus never drifted to his hands during the walk. Your eyes were either on him or your surroundings, making it easy to forget his marred skin.

Until you sat across from him and the food arrived. There was no way now you wouldn't notice his scars, which normally wasn't a problem—he'd stopped caring about strangers' opinions years ago. But you weren't a stranger, and you weren't just another girl he wanted to fuck.

You were sweet and beautiful, and he was drawn to you in a way he hadn't experienced in decades. He didn't want you to run away from him.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken you out to dinner on the first date, because now it was probably going to be the last one too.

Yet you didn't stare at his hands. You acted as if everything was normal, never commenting or asking what had happened to him. You carried on the conversation just like before, and when Azriel, hiding his distress behind a carefully crafted mask, asked you about a theater play you'd just mentioned, you launched into a passionate description of its plot and themes. His uneasiness slowly faded as he watched your eyes light up. You leaned closer over the table, so engaged in your story that Azriel found himself smiling and nodding along, only half listening, his worries about his hands momentarily forgotten.

Your voice suddenly trailed off mid-sentence, and you leaned back in your chair, tilting your head to the side. “What?” you asked with a soft smile. Before he could answer, you tensed and added, “I've done it again, haven't I? Rambling on about something you don't care about.”

Azriel shook his head, his hand itching to reach across the table and brush yours, though he held back. “Y/N,” he said, his voice quiet and reassuring. “I do care. I asked you that question. You just had that look on your face.”

Your brow furrowed. “What look?”

“The one you have when you talk about something you like,” he answered, watching your expression grow confused for a second. “You have it when you talk about books too.”

You were quiet for a moment, and then your eyes narrowed slightly. “Azriel,” you said slowly, but your lips twitched up in a smirk. “Did you ask for all those recommendations just to hear me talk?”

“Maybe,” he conceded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. His heart fluttered as your eyes met, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

He’d forgotten having a crush could feel like this—like being a boy again. Only now he knew what to do.

He’d never been much of a talker, preferring to listen and chime in occasionally, but with you, it was easy. You had your own way of involving him, asking questions or simply waiting for him to share his thoughts. Even though you barely paused, Azriel never felt like you were hogging the attention. On the contrary, you made him more at ease.

After you left the restaurant, you went strolling through the streets of Velaris. Azriel was just about to answer your question about how fast, exactly, an Illyrian could fly when you let out a delighted squeal, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward a small bakery.

“Oh, I was waiting for this place to open!” You stopped in front of the window with a dreamy sigh before turning to look up at him. “I forgot it was today. Can we go in? Please, tell me you like pastries!”

Your enthusiasm was endearing, but Azriel couldn’t help glancing down at your hand still holding his larger, scarred one. You didn't seem to notice—or if you did, you didn’t care.

Your grip loosened slightly as you noticed the shift in his attention, but you didn't let go. “Sorry,” you said quietly, your eyes searching his face. “I got a bit carried away. Is this alright?”

He wasn't sure what to say. The lump in his throat made it hard to speak. That you had grabbed his hand without thinking was enough to leave him speechless, but what you were asking now… it wasn’t just that you weren't bothered by his scars. It was that you wanted to keep holding his hand. Azriel couldn't wrap his mind around it.

You probably misunderstood his silence because you started to pull back. He immediately held your hand tighter, gently squeezing it, as if to silently reassure you. “No, it’s okay,” he said quickly, his voice softer than usual. “I’m just…” Not used to it. “You caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

“I caught the spymaster off guard?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be worried? Do we need to inform the High Lord?” 

Azriel shook his head with a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on you before he gestured toward the bakery. “Would you still like those pastries?”

Your eyes lit up, and Azriel made a mental note of how much you liked sweets. “Oh, yes, please!”

“Then let’s get you some, shall we?”

You walked past him as he held the door open for you, a grateful smile lighting up your face. Your hand remained entwined with his, and for once, Azriel didn’t feel the need to hide it.

You did not let go until he walked you home and you closed the front door behind you, and Azriel had never felt such lightness as he flew back to the House of Wind.

~~~~~~

Azriel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands with a grimace on his face.

Someone had tried to infiltrate Velaris, likely sent from the Hewn City, and Azriel had been called to find out why. He could still recall the blood and the pleading whimpers. But in the end, he got the information he wanted. He always did.

At a cost.

He had long since learned to keep a cold expression, even in the face of the suffering he caused. He was used to it after centuries, and as long as it kept his city and family safe, he didn't care how cruel he had to become. Maybe it made him a horrible person, but his soul wasn't the cost.

The cost was his hands.

Even after all this time, being in the cells beneath the Hewn City was like being back in the cell in his father's mansion. He had to shut down every part of him that felt, bury those memories deep down in his mind, and remind himself that he wasn't a helpless child anymore.

He was a five-hundred-year-old warrior, and he had a job to do.

But once the job was done, and Rhys decided how to deal with the prisoner and the consequences, Azriel would go back to his room knowing he didn't have much time.

He would wash his bloodied hands, though he knew no matter how much he washed, he could never cleanse them completely. He had five centuries worth of blood on them. After they were clean, if he was lucky, like today, he had time to peel off his leathers before the inevitable happened.

The pain.

No matter how many times he’d been in those dungeons, no matter how many years had passed since he’d last been locked in his father’s cell, he still didn’t know how to stop the pain from returning.

It wasn’t as bad as it had been the first few times, and it was nothing compared to what he had felt while his hands were being burned and in the days after. But Azriel still gritted his teeth, a low hiss escaping from him.

He tried clenching them into fists, but the relief lasted only a few seconds before he had to relax them again. His fingers were stiff as he reached for the drawer, a fresh surge of stinging pain hitting him when he pulled it open. Shadows dove in before he could and quickly whisked up a small jar of white cream. They undid the lid, and Azriel felt grateful for the dark companions that had never once left his side now more than ever.

Willing his hands to cooperate, he scooped up some of the soothing balm a healer had made for him. It always took a little while for its effect to show, but pain was an old friend he had learned to live with.

The herbal scent filled the room as Azriel did his best to spread the balm over every inch of his hands, trying to ignore the stinging itch. Scratching would only make it worse, reddening his already scarred skin until it threatened to bleed again.

He shifted to lie on the bed, wings spread beneath him. He just had to endure the ache for a few more minutes before the balm took effect, and then he could try to sleep. He needed some rest after such a long day, if only to have a clear mind when he met you the next afternoon.

As his shadows hummed in his ear the Illyrian lullaby his mother used to sing him as a child, Azriel let his eyes drift close, flexing his aching fingers every few seconds, hoping for a faster relief.

~~~~~~

Things moved slowly with you.

Neither of you wanted to rush into anything and potentially ruin what you both knew could be the beginning of something great.

You went on several dates, and some ended with him spending the night at your apartment, snuggled up in your bed, which was too small for an Illyrian. Azriel didn’t care as long as he got to fall asleep with you in his arms.

But things had never gone this far.

When he came to your bookshop earlier, he had only planned to walk you home. You were tired from a long day dealing with customers, and he had to wake up early the next morning to leave for Illyria for a few days. Maybe it was the thought of not seeing you—even if only for a week—or the fact that you looked stunning in your simple dress, with strands of hair escaping from your messy bun. Whatever it was, Azriel wanted you. He needed you.

His lips parted from yours, both of you already breathing heavily. “I don't want to go home,” he murmured, his hands on your hips, twisting the thin fabric of your dress, wishing it weren't there.

“What do you want to do then?” you asked, amusement clear in your eyes. But there was desire there too, mirroring his own.

“I want to take off your dress,” he whispered, his fingers already moving to the straps on your shoulders. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Take it off.”

With deft fingers, he slid the straps down your arms, and the fabric slipped off your body, pooling around your feet. You stepped out of it, and Azriel swallowed at the sight of you clad only in your cream underwear.

“If I had known we'd be doing this, I would have worn something more enticing,” you said quietly. There was no shyness or embarrassment in your voice, as if you were simply stating a fact. You did have a point—your lingerie was simple, something you wore every day. It didn't matter to Azriel.

He shook his head, stepping closer to you. “You don't need to,” he murmured. His hands cupped your face, tilting your head up to kiss you tenderly. “You're always stunning, sweetheart, no matter what you wear.”

You hummed, a smile playing on your lips. “Now I want to know what you think when I'm not wearing anything.”

Azriel chuckled, even as desire coiled in his groin. A part of him wanted to toss you on the bed and fuck you senseless. But most of all, he wanted to take his time exploring your body, finding every spot that made you squirm and sigh. Only after he'd thoroughly tasted you would he bury himself inside you.

“Let's find out,” he replied with a smirk, already knowing that, no matter what, you'd always be perfect in his eyes.

He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, and as he tossed it on the chair, he felt himself harden. Your breasts were full and supple, your pink nipples so inviting that he wanted to wrap his lips around them. Yet as he lifted a hand to touch you, he hesitated.

The stark contrast between your soft, smooth skin and his scarred fingers made him pause. He had touched you before, but never so intimately. How could he do that? His hands had so much blood on them. With how they looked, it felt only fitting he would use them for horrible things—to hurt people. Not to touch the wonderful girl he was falling for. How could he be so selfish as to sully you like that? You deserved so much better than him. Someone who didn’t torture and kill for a living, who didn’t have a dark past still haunting him.

Someone good.

He took a step back, lowering his hand.

“Azriel,” you called gently. There was no sign of judgment or disappointment in your voice. You just wanted him to look at you.

Slowly, his eyes met yours. To his astonishment, a soft smile bloomed on your lips.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, taking his hands in yours. He fought the urge to pull away. “You can touch me. I want you to touch me.”

He wanted to. More than anything. He wished he could.

“I shouldn’t,” he whispered.

“Why?”

How could he explain? He never told you what had happened to him. He didn’t want you to pity him or, even worse, to drive you away. Selfishly, he wanted to keep you in his life.

When he didn’t answer, your fingers slid around his wrists. Neither of you spoke as you lifted his hands to your mouth and kissed each scarred palm. Azriel’s throat worked, his heart pounding in his chest. Without a word, you placed his hands on your breasts. You let go of his wrists, giving him the freedom to pull away if he wanted to. But your eyes never left his, and that soft smile never faltered.

Azriel swallowed hard. For a moment, he just stood there, not pulling away but not moving either. Your face was open and serene, as if his scars didn’t bother you, even now that they were touching such an intimate part of your body.

Seeing you like this, so calm and accepting, so soft and warm under his palms… his thumbs moved, brushing over your nipples. You shivered, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing it again, feeling the small buds harden under his touch.

As if sensing his impending question, you nodded slightly. “You can touch me, Az.”

Though he knew it was wrong and still didn’t understand how you could want his bloodied, scarred hands on you, he gave you what you wanted—what you both wanted.

He slid one hand behind your neck, pulling you closer and kissing you again. The other remained on your breast, kneading the soft flesh, savoring every small sigh that escaped your lips. You leaned into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss until Azriel’s control hung only by a thin thread.

When you pulled back, you didn’t give him time to lower his mouth to your neck. You grasped his hand, gently moving it away from your chest, and a wave of fear tightened in Azriel’s stomach. You had changed your mind. Of course you had. He should have seen it coming.

But instead of stepping away, you guided his hand down. Between your legs.

His breath caught as his fingers brushed against your panties, feeling the already damp fabric beneath his touch.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. “Are you sure?”

You were smiling again. “Yes. Please, Az.”

He didn’t know how to say no. He knew he should have, that he was unworthy of touching someone so pure and lovely. But you had already pushed the fabric aside, and he groaned as your slick arousal coated his fingertips. Before he even realized what he was doing, his fingers found your clit, drawing a soft moan from you.

The thin thread holding his control snapped at the sound, and Azriel let himself give in.

He pulled you closer, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers explored what they shouldn’t. At the first sign of hesitation or revulsion, he was ready to stop. But pleasure was the only emotion etched across your face, and he could see the desire for more burning in your eyes. Yet you were letting him set the pace, giving him time to accept your permission to touch you.

He slipped a finger between your folds, teasing your entrance before tentatively easing it inside, just a little.

Your hips bucked, and your voice came out as a needy whisper. “Please…”

Azriel hesitated for only a split second before pushing his finger all the way in. You were soft and warm, and you both groaned as your walls clenched around it. He couldn’t believe you were letting him do this, but he couldn’t stop now.

As he slowly pumped it in and out, your hips began to rock against his hand to match his movements. He watched in contemplation as your eyes fluttered close and your lips parted slightly, a breathy moan slipping out when he couldn’t resist the urge to add a second finger.

“Azriel…” you murmured. “Feels so good…”

The sound of his name on your lips sent a wave of heat through his body. His wings rustled quietly behind him, and his cock throbbed in his pants. He pulled his hand away, relishing your disappointed whimper.

You hadn’t run away from him. You didn’t let his scars intimidate you, or shape your opinion of him. You weren’t bothered by his marred fingers touching you; on the contrary, you craved them inside you. So why, despite the voice in his head whispering that he wasn’t worthy of it, should he deny you something you both wanted so badly? He wanted to taste you, to make you come on his fingers, and see how much pleasure they could bring you.

“I want to do this properly,” he murmured, gently guiding you to the bed. “Will you lie down for me, sweetheart?”

Your face lit up with a smile, and you slipped out of your panties. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you spread your legs, baring yourself to his hungry gaze.

As Azriel knelt between your parted thighs, he pushed every thought about his hands out of his mind, focusing only on the beautiful girl before him and the warmth settling in his heart.

~~~~~~

Azriel jolted awake, his chest heaving. He lifted his hands in front of him, the dim light of the moon casting shadows across them.

They were fine. Scarred as always, but fine.

He took a deep breath as he lay back down. It was just a nightmare—memories coming back to haunt him in his sleep every now and then. Even after centuries.

“Az?”

He cursed silently as you stirred beside him, turning to face him. He could see your struggle to open your eyes, your voice a sleepy mumble.

“Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah,” he whispered back, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It's alright.”

It always was with you. You never complained when his nightmares disrupted your sleep. He didn't have them as often since you'd moved in together, fortunately. Sleeping next to you helped, but it wasn't a cure.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you asked quietly. With your head resting on his chest, you could probably hear the rapid thumping of his heart. He willed it to slow.

“It's fine, sweetheart,” he sighed. He pressed a kiss to your hair, and his tone was softer when he spoke again. “Go back to sleep.”

You curled up against him, and he thought you might let it go. But instead, you continued to look up at him. “You know you can talk to me if you want.”

“I know,” he murmured. You’d always been there for him when he needed it. You had been since the moment you met a year ago, and he was grateful for it every single day. He couldn't wait for your mating ceremony in two weeks and prove once more how much you meant to him.

You shifted in his arms, and then your head was on the pillow next to his, your face only inches away from his. You reached for his hand and lifted it up to your lips, kissing his palm, his fingers, his knuckles.

Azriel watched in silence, a lump in his throat. His heart still raced, and he felt the sudden urge to cry. He didn't even need to tell you what he needed, what burdened him. You always knew. Even before the bond snapped, you'd understood him effortlessly.

“Your hands are fine,” you murmured against his marred skin. “And so are you. You're fine. They can't hurt you anymore.”

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. He buried his face in your neck, freeing his hand from your gentle grasp so that he could hold you tighter and press his body against yours. He draped his wings over you, unwilling to let go.

Your fingers stroke through his black curls. “I'm here, my love.” Your voice was soothing and soft, and Azriel felt like the helpless child he'd been five hundred years ago—needing reassurance, care, love. Maybe he would always need those things.

“You're here with me. You're safe now.”

He couldn't stop them, then. Tears slipped past his eyelids, rolling down his cheeks and dampening the skin of your neck. But your gentle caresses and soothing words never faltered.

“It's alright,” you whispered. Your warmth seeped into him, and he felt so cared for that even the last of his walls began to crumble. A broken sob tore through him.

“You're safe, my love.” You cradled his head against your neck, lips brushing his hair. “You can let it all out.”

Azriel did. You'd helped him through difficult moments before, but he had always held back because he didn't want to feel weak. He didn't want you to think he was weak. But if he’d learned anything from you, it was that crying didn't make him weak. That letting his feelings pour out through tears was better than burying them deep down for centuries.

So, he let them rise to the surface. The pain, the anger, the grief for the childhood he’d never had, the bitterness and frustration.

He had never cried about it before, but as he did, he could see it, for the first time in his life—a small light, a way out of the endless cycle of self-pity and hate he'd fallen into.

Maybe his mother had been right all those years ago. He was still healing, even after five centuries. He didn't know how much longer it would take, but maybe he’d reach a point when the nightmares stopped, his hands didn't hurt, and he could accept his scars. And maybe, one day, he wouldn't need his mother or his mate to remind him that his hands weren't ugly.

Azriel had no idea for how long you let him cry and sob in your arms. He had so many pent-up emotions, so much he still couldn't express, words he couldn't voice. But it was a start. And as exhaustion dragged him back to sleep, the weight on his chest, on his heart and soul, felt a little lighter.

Yet you still held him close, stroking his black curls long after he fell asleep.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[maybanksprincess]

toys with jj!

warnings: smut, rough jj, spitting in mouth, kissing, choking, hair pulling, squirting.

requested by my love @jjmaybankssurfergf , hope you like it baby. 💋

jj had a particularly rough day. kooks, and the hot summer sun blazing down on him all day while he worked. he came home in a sour mood, immediately unbuckling his belt and shoving you down onto the bed as if you were a ragdoll.

when he got in these moods, you were more than happy to oblige with anything he said because you just wanted to make him happy.

"y' gonna sit here and take me, i don't wanna hear no complaining. got it?" he said, with a stern look in his eyes, as he never stopped working to get your panties off.

all you could do is nod, you were resisting the urge to press your thighs together from the way he spat in your face when he yelled at you.

he grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders, pulling his boxers down just enough to reveal his thick, red cock, leaking with precum.

without warning, he nudges his tip at your entrance and slides himself in, causing you to yelp in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

he wraps his ringed hand around your throat, squeezing enough to cut off some of your circulation. "shh. be a good girl and jus' take it, hm?" he says as he snaps his hips into yours.

you couldn't contain the whimpers that escaped past your throat, as he squeezes down on it, the pleasure becoming all too much, your vision hazy.

"j- please." you say with a hoarse voice, one of your hands moving to try and push his hand away.

he abruptly pulls out of you, his dick coated in your juices. he flips you over onto your stomach, pushing your face down into the pillow.

the bed dips as jj stands up from it, walking to a corner of the room. your too nervous to speak at the moment, so you just lay there, hoping he comes back. after a few moments you can hear muffled sounds of drawers opening and closing.

after about 30 seconds, he comes back with something in hand, your face still pushed down into the pillow, your eyes met with nothing but darkness.

after a few moments, you stop biting down on your lip nervously, and speak up, curiosity getting the best of you. "jay, what are u holding?" you ask in a soft, muffled voice.

"since you cant listen, im gonna stretch both of your little holes out." he says, leaving no room for an argument.

he grabs a bottle of lubricant, coating one of his fingers in the liquid, then pushing it into your ass, moving it in and out of your tight hole.

"y' see this mama?" he says, pulling you up by your hair roughly, holding the thick dildo in front of your face.

your eyes go wide, seeing the thick silicone toy in his grasp. you open your mouth to protest, but you knew better than to protest when he gets in this mood, knowing it wouldn't end well for you.

when you shut up and nod, a devilish smirk forms on his face. "good girl." he reaches around and presses a quick kiss to your lips, pulling his finger out of your ass.

"see, all you had to do was listen." he says, before pushing his own veiny cock in your pussy from behind, stretching your hole deliciously.

a few moments later, you can feel the silicone toy line up with your asshole, sliding inside with ease, thanks to the lubricant he used beforehand.

he pushes the toy and his dick in both of your holes at the same time, drawing a moan from his lips. he watches the way your pussy and ass clench around both dicks, it was almost enough to make him bust in that moment.

you could feel all your control and self restraint slip away at that moment, letting him take complete control of you, submitting to him as you close your eyes and moan into the pillow.

as both dicks penetrated you, all you could think about was the sounds jj were making behind you, the way his hand was gripping your hair roughly, and it only served to make you wetter than before.

you could feel a overwhelming pressure in your abdomen that was begging to be released.

"jay...'m gonna cum." you say, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, drool falling from the corner of your mouth.

he grunts from behind you "no, you cum when i tell you to."

he lets go of your hair, and grabs you by your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. "who do you belong to, hm?" he says, chasing his orgasm

you try your best to hold back, but the pressure was becoming way too much, "you, jayj. only you." you assure him

"thats good mama." he grabs your cheek roughly, and pries your lips open with his thumb, spitting into your mouth. "swallow." he demands.

you swallow his spit with a whimper, and you clench around him

"you like that shit, huh?" he says, picking up the pace with both of the dicks. "cum f' me mama."

he pushes your head down again, and rubs figure 8's on your clit, coaxing your orgasm.

you immediately let out a loud moan as the pressure band in your stomach snaps, your orgasm ripping through you. your too lost in your pleasure to realize that you soaked jj from behind.

he groans loudly and pulls the silicone toy and his own dick out of you with a popping noise. he bends down to admire the sight of your squirting pussy.

"oh fuck, ma," he groans "your finna do that shit again f' me." he says, flipping you over.

[darktrashsoulbear]

Exploring Local Treasures

Ewan Mitchell x new girlfriend!reader

Summary: Ewan takes his new girlfriend on a tour of his hometown Derby, on her insistence, and scrambles to find things to do while also just being so incredibly in love.

This was a request sent in by the lovely Freyja @endless-ineffabilities who persuaded me to share a fic that showcased my insider knowledge of Derby!

Actors Masterlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2019

A big thank you to @gwaynesprincess for beta reading this!

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

A/N: The rucksack is filled with your favourite drinks and snacks as well as extra hair bobbles and his own shopping bags to carry whatever the two of you collect during the day!

The sun was nowhere to be seen, instead the sky was littered with grey clouds and the odd pigeon here and there. Many would describe it as bleak, a fitting description for his location. The streets of the city centre were filled with the sounds of construction which would make you think perhaps it’s preparing for the upcoming Christmas Markets, wrong. There aren’t any Christmas Markets over here, only an ice rink if you’re lucky that year. With a grimace plastered across his face he sighed “I still have no idea why you’d want a tour of this place, love, there’s nothing to see. How about I take you to Nottingham tomorrow where they actually do have a Christmas Market hm?”

“Ewan, babe, I’ve come here to see where you grew up which is right here in Derby not half an hour away in Nottingham!” she refuted, eagerly dragging him along – to where, she wasn’t sure.

“Darling, there’s really nothing to see here, only a few pubs and there’s a decent milkshake place over there,” he fired back ready to head back to the lifts to the car park.

Grinning she manoeuvred herself, so she was before him, walking backwards, dragging him by both hands, “excellent, I’m absolutely parched and besides, aren’t you supposed to be calling me duck here baby?”

Letting out yet another sigh, Ewan resigned himself to his fate and a day of boredom before finally giving in and walking with his girl, pulling out his wallet “unless you’d like for us to get the attention of every girl within earshot then I won’t be calling you duck, my love its almost too common here”

“What and my love isn’t,” she teased leaning in to peck him on the cheek and he quickly took the chance to turn his head, earning himself a peck on the lips promptly followed by a reprimanding pat on the chest.

As they ordered their milkshakes Ewan racked his brain on what on earth he was going to do and how he was expected to provide an entertaining day when it was only three o’clock. Don’t get him wrong, Ewan didn’t hate Derby, but he had long made peace with the fact that it offered very little in terms of entertainment when compared to other bigger cities – sure there were still bowling alleys, escape rooms and a pub on every corner but that’s not exactly revolutionary anymore. This usually suited Ewan just fine when he came home from long shoots away from home and all he wanted was the comfort of doing mostly nothing but in this circumstance, it was a nightmare. Because this was her, his girl, the one. Yes, they had only been together for a few months, but things were going great, phenomenally even. She ticked every box of his and every night he’d send a prayer up to the sky that she felt the same about him. They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet but he sure as hell felt it and if the way she looked at him was any inclination, then she did too. Which is why he wanted today to be perfect, he had to say it today – he feared he would combust if he didn’t.

His thoughts were interrupted by another soft tug on this hand as his girl led him over to collect their milkshakes, hers a combination of white chocolate and raspberry and his, a plain dairy milk – he was far too preoccupied to be adventurous today. After checking yet again that she was absolutely sure she wanted to stay, he reluctantly led her towards the pub that was a favourite of his brothers and had become the go to pub ever since he’d first been taken their by his parents when he was twelve ‘The Bless”, ensuring he went the long way to give them enough time for them to drink their milkshake, and for her to change her mind.

Stepping into the warmth of the pub after walking around the city centre was welcomed but he received it with a hint of annoyance due to it meaning that his girl unfurled herself from her position wrapped around his arm, body pressed against his. Although the blinding grin she flashed him as they walked to an available table in a corner towards the back made up for it, her opting to sit next to him on the booth, body leaning against his rather than on the chair opposite certainly did. The pub was relatively quiet due to it being a random Wednesday at three-thirty which Ewan was thankful for as it meant he was able to bury his face in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her skin as he responded to her questions without any shame.

Their drinks arrived, a water for his darling and an apple juice for him – a decision made after he advised her that it may be best to stay completely sober for what he has planned later, to which she excitedly probed him with questions and general triumphant remarks at her getting him to co-operate. As they sipped their drinks and made general conversation – gossiped – about anything and everything, Ewan couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous girl next to him, glancing over the eyes he so easily finds himself getting lost in, the slope of her nose and the lips that entice him in without even realising. He glances down to where her body meets his, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other switches between taking sips of her drink and wrapping around his, fingers dancing across his own as she plays with the cool metal of the ring on one of his digits.

“So, then I looked at her like yeah, I completely get it but honestly I have no idea what she was talking... mmph,” she was abruptly cut off by Ewan’s lips finding home and colliding with hers. After recovering from her shock, she eagerly responded thankful for the booth standing tall and curling around them as the arm Ewan wrapped around her shoulders tightened and near enough pulled her onto his lap. Believing she’d indulged him enough, his love pulled away as his hand had begun to snake its way up her soft brown knitted sweater.

Between refilling her lungs with air, she wondered where that had come from, his response came with a smirk that painted his angular face “well if you agree to end our little excursion, I’d be happy to give you the full package.”

To which she responded with a breathy laugh and a simple “as if I wouldn’t get it anyway”, rendering him momentarily speechless – because she wasn’t wrong – and she used the opportunity to pull him up by the lapels of his green coat, perfect for the chill in the air, and guided him back outside before demanding he take her to the next place.

With the thousandth sigh of the day, he did just that wrapping his arm around her waist this time and guiding her back into the centre’s main building to the car park, when he quickly explained they’d have to drive to the next location to narrowly avoid the shove coming his way as she believed he was yet again hoping to end their fun early. Reluctantly she agreed to get in the car but not before making him pinkie promise he wasn’t lying.

As Ewan parked up in what he can only assume is an actual parking spot – the car park was so run down he couldn’t really be sure – he took a quick look around, due to the fact that while this was shared between the ‘Rollerworld’ and the Indian restaurant next door ‘Slice of India’ that was its secondary use especially now that it had started getting dark sooner this time of year. With a light jog, he made his way around the front of the car to open the door for his love before she could even think about doing it herself – chivalry to him was not dead – and he happily accepted the “Cheers, Mitchell” and peck on the cheek, that actually landed on his cheek, he got in return.

Grasping her hand in his own (more like engulfing) he quickly led her around from the back of the building where the car park is to the front entrance, making quick work of paying for their entry before making their way up the steps that were far too steep to have a place so close to where people are roller skating. After giving their sizes to the guy behind the counter, Ewan and his love took a chance to survey the place. He again is thankful that it is a Wednesday and its less busy meaning fewer kids for him to accidentally run over or trample, he looks back over at her and sees she’s yet again grinning from ear to ear and has decided that while this certainly wasn’t how he’d have initially opted to spend the day, every second was worth it to see her so happy and he hopes she looks at him that way every day for the rest of their lives.

He was yet again snapped out of his musings by her dragging him over to the seats to put the skates on practically vibrating with excitement and he takes a moment to hope that his lack of roller skating over the past few years doesn’t catch up to him. Which, of course, it did. Multiple times. Any time he believed he had it, the universe sniggered and proved that he, in fact, did not. He wishes he was able to say that it was made worth it by his sweet girl being there aiding and reassuring him but well, if you looked at her any time he was reacquainted with the floor it would seem as though she had front row tickets to a Ricky Gervais comedy show – although she at least had the decency to attempt to ask if he was alright through her cackles.

Eventually, his legs started co-operating, his girl no longer laughed at him (mostly due to the pain her stomach was in for laughing all that time) and they embarked on a shared rhythm around the rink. Neither would admit to it under questioning due to the major cliché of it all, but they did indeed hold hands as they went – once she was sure he wouldn’t drag her down with him. About an hour after their arrival, they both gravitated towards the exit of the rink deciding to grab food on their way back home. As they debated where to go once they’d walked down the too steep stairs, Ewan suggested just popping over to the Indian buffet next door with the promise that the Chinese styled noodles were to die for. This caused her to softly chuckle while looking up at him through her lashes teasing about how “out of everything at the Indian food buffet his highlight was a different cuisine” and just as he was about to defend himself, he looked down at her. Really looked. He looked at the way she looked at him with the softest gaze he’d ever seen, the way she lightly bit her lip while waiting for a response and at the way the hints of her beautiful smile remained in her eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself.

He dipped his head making direct eye contact and said the easiest three words of his life. Her face went from shocked, to happy, to elated as she responded with an “I love you” of her own in earnest. The tension that he didn’t even realise was there escaped his shoulders as he grasped the lapels of his own green coat wrapped around her and met her lips in a kiss that had him seeing spots of white behind his eyelids. A minute or five later, they pulled away from one another, took each other’s hands and walked into the restaurant, where the Chinese style noodles were indeed to die for.

Notes:

As I've said, likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated

As is constructive criticism, this is my first time writing so some kind pointers are welcome!

Thank you so much for reading!

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — A STARRY SKY AND HOPEFUL EYE

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : nightly routines revolve around keeping watch with zoro, but today is extra special as you get to start his birthday off right with an intimate moment and a special gift.

꒰ contents ꒱ : zoro roronoa x reader ; alcohol mention. elements of hurt/comfort, tooth rotting fluff + filled with love. — WC : 1133

happy birthday zoro ♥︎

“I'm here, don’t be afraid. I won't let anything happen to you.” A familiar, gravelly tone pierces through the thick fog of fear that was slowly consuming you. Zoro’s voice was every bit of him as ever — strong, driven, confident, protective.

It serves as a reassuring melody that tugs on your delicate heartstrings, commanding the attention that you so readily give. A gentle reminder that you’re secure in his arms and safely tucked away from the winds of change and everything else that the Sunny is drifting past.

But it held a serene tenderness that would only surface when the two of you were alone and under the stars, sailing across the open sea where the only witness to your love was the pearly moon that dreamily hung overhead.

You hum softly as you begin to fully wake, feeling the words rumble from his chest and caress your back, soothing all of your fleeting worries away. Zoro had a gift when it came to chasing away demons, a renowned hunter that would protect you from anything that dare brought you harm.

“‘m sorry.” You pivot a little, readjusting yourself to nestle into him better. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“What did I say about apologizing?” He roughly gruffs out, a direct juxtaposition to the careful way he was cradling you. “Another nightmare?”

“They come and they go.” The fear of the dream subsides as you take in the night that beautifully envelops you both. 

The stars begin to unveil themselves, gleams of hope scattered across the inky black sky. The sun had long since gone to rest but the night prevails as the two of you keep a watchful eye.

The vibrant colors that once bathed the sky in orange and pink hues were now stripped back without the comfort of the sun. 

Keeping watch was a task you and Zoro would often face together. The norm was that each person would take two hours to complete their shift but overtime, yours had blended together. From the birth of midnight into the early cusps of the morning, this little cozy corner of the world was yours.

Countless times you’ve found solace in each other’s quiet wakes. Words would come far and few in between in favor of soaking up the comforting presence that bloomed whenever you were together. 

Even still, the whispered exchanges were something that never failed to fill you with warmth in spite of the desolate chill of night.

“Get some rest. I'll make sure they don’t come back.” Zoro’s lips faintly brush against your temple in an attempt to ease your troubled mind. Everyone fell victim to the darkness that plagues dreams and he knew all too well the toll they could take.

“I wanna stay up with you.” The looming winter breeze glazes over your face, kissing along your skin in such a way that has you huddling to the source of warmth that surrounds you. “It's your birthday so I want to savor as much time with you as I can before the others wake up.” A pause. “Besides, I got you a little present.”

Zoro shifts a little so he has a clear view of your face, sharp gaze set on you. Mirth swims in his steely eye as he makes contact, lips twitching heavenward.

“A present, huh? Is that why you locked yourself in the crows nest yesterday?” It was true, you had shooed everyone away from the room under the guise of training. But Zoro knew better — you’d never deny him the chance to train with you but he didn’t push it, opting to train on the deck instead.

“Maybe….” You trail off, smiling sheepishly before sliding off of his lap to reach for the gift you had stowed away earlier. The shimmering moon provided enough light for you to see, casting a luminous glow that blankets you both in a loving embrace, glittering with an ethereal magic that only the depths of night could merit.

“You gonna show me or what?” He smirks, his face closer to yours as you settle back in front of him. You nuzzle his nose with the tip of your own, an act of affection he’s grown used to over the time you’ve been together.

Silently, you hand him the small box and your heart thumps viciously against your chest. He opens the tiny, yet neat packaging and is quiet for a moment as he examines what lays within. 

In the box was a carefully leather braided bracelet with a singular bead woven in.

“You like it?” You falter for a moment. Before he can answer, you begin to nervously ramble. “I tucked my vivre card in the bead. That way if we’re ever apart, we can always find each other again.”

There's another pause and the only thing you can hear is your heart screaming for relief as it pounds against the cage of your ribs. Like clockwork, it eases back down as Zoro's face glimmers with an expression you hardly see, one that’s reserved for you during your most intimate moments.

“Hell yeah I like it.” Zoro's cheeks blossom into a soft pink, calloused thumb gliding over the textured leather. His voice becomes nothing but a fresh breath of air. “This is special.”

“It’s…” The word ‘nothing’ escapes you because it couldn’t be further from the truth. It means everything to you. Plus, he’d only chastise you for downplaying such a thing. “Good, I'm glad you do.”

“Put it on me.” Zoro demands, pulling you up into his lap. You hold onto his hand and gently wrap the bracelet around, the pads of your fingers trailing along his skin and he has to hold back a shudder. With a few simple motions, you tighten it so it’s secure and snug but not too much. 

The sunless sky shines again as Zoro smiles at the gift, the light warming you from the inside out and chasing away the chill of night.

“Thank you.” Zoro wraps his arm around your waist, nuzzling his face against your cheek and leaving a kiss there in his wake.

“Of course.” Tension rolls off of your shoulders with the acceptance he so readily gives you. All day, anxiety flooded your veins and took the breath from your lungs as you tried your best to make the perfect gift for him. You even went as far as — “Oh! I almost forgot. I got you something in case you didn’t like it.”

Zoro makes a noise of protest but it almost immediately dies out as he sees you pull his favorite brand of sake out from where you hid it — comically wrapped up in a pink bow.

“Well I'd never say no to this.” He lets out a puff of amusement, taking the bottle from your hand and opening it with ease. “What do you say? Up to share a little drink with the birthday boy?”

“Duh.” A giggle spills from your lips as you watch him hide his smirk with the neck of the bottle, taking a healthy swig. Some of the sake drips down from the corner of his mouth in which you easily scoop it up with your finger, bringing it to your own lips to clean it off. 

He leans in to give you a sweet, sake infused kiss. The slight burn of the alcohol dies down as his eager tongue swipes along your bottom lip, soothing the flames away and drenching you in adoration.

In a few hours, the rest of the crew would wake and who knows what they had planned for Zoro. But right now, with the stars as your only witnesses, this moment was for just the two of you. 

And Zoro couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day than having his favorite person in his lap, a bottle of sake in his hand, and the warmth of love that buries itself into his heart when he looks at the gift you made him.

thank you so much for reading ( ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩) i hope you enjoyed ! ♥︎

[zepskies]

Restless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending… 

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

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[calitears]

Guitar Hero

“well my boyfriend’s in a band…

…he plays guitar while i sing lou reed”

Guitarist!Megumi Fushiguro x FEM!Reader

9.32 k words (oopsies)

Summary: Megumi Fushiguro finds himself at the local arcade a few hours before his band's show. However what was supposed to be just a one time game of guitar hero with a stranger might develop into something more.

warnings/notes ~ alcohol consumption/implied sexual themes/fluff/cursing/no directly written smut but implied/might be corny in sum parts but i promise it’s cutesy!

optional playlist: 🎧 (listen in any order you’d like, it just has the songs refrenced and a few extra!!)

{non-curse au}

masterlist

<fic below the cut>

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

His hands were gradually getting colder as the soft thumping of his fingers against his chilled phone screen slowed, looking over the latest message sent in his band’s group chat. He could only find himself able to sigh at yet another schedule change, having their set pushed back another hour.

He could have chosen to head back to meet with his bandmates, they were all just piled up near the backstage entrance anyway, and it’s not like he didn't enjoy watching other bands play. Yet as he shut off his phone, the tinted blue light that illuminated his face faded, only leaving the vibrant colors of the arcade in front to cast different shades of neon lights over him. He looked up, the three fourths of his face showing that was left uncovered by his scarf the most vibrant under the iridescent lights. With a sigh he stood up, and walked the few feet of distance between the previous bench he sat on and the glass doors of the front arcade entrance. 

Megumi would never admit it, but it was in fact the nerves that pushed him to avoid heading directly to the concert area. It was far from his first time performing in front of a public, however this was the largest crowd they’d gathered, and he’d be trying something new tonight. He wasn't doubtful of his skills, he had been playing guitar since elementary, it would be stupid of him to feel unprepared. But insecurity came at strange times for him, at least that’s what he thought to himself. It wasn't necessarily rare for people to feel nervous before performing, and still the world would have to end first before Megumi would ever admit out loud that he was growing anxious. 

He wandered around the arcade for a bit, taking a glance at the variety of games. He’d concluded it was always a hit or miss with arcades nowadays, they’d either be packed with an assortment of machines, or have a few lonely boring games, whose only purpose would be to continue making whoever was behind the establishment a quick buck. In this case, he would consider himself lucky. As he looked around he was met with a few arcade classics, like the variations of ball rolling games, mock “gambling” machines (as he’d refer to them in his head, he found it funny), air hockey, and whatever versions of racing games were available. The place itself wasn’t packed, but did seem to have a decent clientele. What really made him come to the conclusion that this place was on the higher end of his arcade spectrum would be the games such as DDR, an actual vintage pacman game, Street fighter, Tetris, and the one that really caught his eye, Guitar Hero. 

It brought back memories of his earlier elementary days and early middle school, when instead of going home he’d wander into some corner store establishment with Tsumiki that existed right before reaching their street. They’d grab some snacks, Tsumiki would glance around at the magazines, and he’d walk over to what looked to be an old large storage closet, turned into a makeshift ‘arcade’ (if you could call it that). When Gojo finally took them in a year later, he’d join them in their afterschool stop. When he saw a pattern of Megumi always picking up that plastic guitar to entertain himself, he made sure to make a mental note of that.

 That year, Megumi found his first ever birthday present from Gojo to be an acoustic guitar, poorly wrapped in some shiny candy cane pattern wrapping paper. After that, the stop on the way home became shorter.

Could be a good form of practice, he excused, and with one more second of contemplation, he gave in and went over to some machine to buy himself tokens. Classic. Mindlessly walking over and reaching for the plastic guitar, he was getting ready to play solo, that is until he saw the ‘player 2’ control guitar be picked up out of the corner of his eye. 

“Would you mind if I played?” 

Would he mind? He processed the words, as if they were waking him up from a nap. In truth he hadn’t really been all there anyway.

“That’s fine…”

He observed the person next to him, watching as she flashed him a small smile then turned her attention to the screen. She was pretty, he could say that much.

“What song?”

He blinked, he knew what song he wanted after he had seen the machine had already had some customes added. So why was he just staring at her? He’d seen pretty girls, boys, people before, so why was he staring like some dumb dog right now? Well truth be told, it had nothing to do with her looks, just the fact that she was wearing one of his band’s cheap shirts. He thought they sold thrown away them at their last show. Unless she had been there. Was she a fan-

“Hey?”

Oh god he was really out of it tonight. 

“Today… the Smashing Pumpkins.” he mumbled. She just smiled and looked back at the game, ready whenever he was. He needed to get it together. Turning back to the screen himself, he pressed a few buttons on the controller, and after getting through the start menu, he heard music play through the, surprisingly, decent quality speakers.

The sound of clacking from pressing down on the plastic keys kept going the longer the song went on, and it was the last vibrant memory he had that night, before they slowly quieted down in his mind and transitioned to the sound of sheets shuffling next to him. Megumi glanced over, and saw the same girl from before, except this time instead of being slightly exhausted after a game of Guitar Hero, it had been a much more intense activity. 

How the hell did he get here?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“You’re… really good…” you had said while placing the guitar back in its holder. You never thought an arcade game would ever work you out. Then again, it had been a few rounds with this handsome stranger. Megumi copied your actions, not looking at you again yet, but nodded. “Thanks… lots of practice.”

“Yeah no, I can tell. You play right? Like… real guitar?”

Oh he played, but were you just acting dumb, or did you actually not recognize him?

“Yeah, in a band.” To that you just hummed in response, before continuing, wanting to keep the conversation flowing. “Same one Nobara used to be in, right?”

Nobara? You know Nobara? That makes sense, and the shirt… Megumi ran through his thoughts, searching in his collection of memories if he had ever heard the girl mention anything about you.

“Yeah, that band… is that why you’re wearing the shirt?” 

“Oh- oh yeah… I went with her to go watch your guys’ last show, said she still wanted to cheer you guys on.” Megumi listened, glancing over to meet your eyes again. “Yeah, glad she could put that much effort in after ditching us.” 

It was supposed to be sarcastic, an attempt at humor. Yet you still had to examine his face, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. There was a few seconds of awkward silence, before you choose to try and just go along with him, sharing a slight polite smile. Megumi noticed, yet he knew it wasn’t in response to his comment. You were just being nice. He really needed to work on his execution of things.

“...So you recognized me?” he questioned, hoping to brush over his last failed attempt at a joke. 

“Well yeah, I mean not at first, but you seemed familiar... Originally I just assumed you were someone I had met at a show before or something.” He studied your way of talking, the expression you made, looking at you almost fascinated. 

Don’t take it the wrong way though, that glimpse in his eye he gives to anyone he’s curious about, it’s just his nature. He focuses on the details of your words, committing any piece of conversation you shared with him to his memory, again, not something unique to you, just part of having a good memory. Or at least he told himself that when he realized he had been almost captivated by you.

And yet he found himself walking backstage with you. 

After your encounter in the arcade, Megumi found out you were heading to the same show. He figured out you had basically been there all day, watching any band that caught your interest. That is, until you needed a break from the constant energetic and emotional atmosphere rock concerts brought. You had ended up leaving and getting something to eat, going to the arcade after to waste more time. 

He got that out of you while sharing nothing about himself in return, other than the fact he played guitar and used to do back up vocals. Now he was stuck basically being the new frontman, contrary to his own belief that he was not marketable as one. 

He had the looks, he knew he wasn't ugly. His singing and playing were more than fine, he would end up as one of the best if he continued playing with this much emotion (the same emotion he seemed to lack in literally anything else), and yet he wasn’t social off or on stage. He wasn’t a performer, he told himself. He could write, he could create art, but the last thing he ever thought himself possible of would be executing it in the way that would capture a crowd. His voice had emotion, his actions filled with meaning and an actual want to be there, but he couldn’t get himself to be anything even close to extravagant. Not like Nobara used to anyway.

“She was… definitely something, it’s like she was made to perform, which is why I totally understand why she chose to take up this acting gig… but I think you’re being too hard on yourself too.”

What. What were you saying? You were responding to his thoughts? No. Megumi blinked, realizing he actually had been talking to you. He had ended up sharing his own insecurities with you. The reason he had been so anxious for this show. He should shut himself up now before he slips up even more, but the truth is, he couldn’t find himself to care.

“You actually think I could take on being the frontman?” He continued walking by your side. At this point you both were back in the venue area, now just wandering around before the next set of shows started, the one including his band.

“Yeah, just loosen up a bit… but if you really don’t wanna be the face of it, why not let Itadori or Maki takeover?” 

“Neither of them sing, god especially not Itadori.” You laughed at that, and it made him feel redemption from his earlier failed try at humor. “Why not get a new member then?” He thought about it, letting out a quiet hum in response. “I don’t wanna scout around for one… energetic people like that don’t usually stick to me, if anything I got the chance to even be in this band because Maki dragged me in…”

“You’re really crushing on yourself dude, have some faith in yourself!”

Megumi watched you smile, and you in return watched his dark blue eyes travel over your face.

“You’ve seen me play then, be honest and sincerely tell me you think I could pull through.”

You only blinked at him in response, racking your brain for memory of his previous performance. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as bold as Nobara, but oh he was talented. More than any other guitar player you’d seen that night. His vocals were nothing short of impressive either, you wanted him to know that-

“And I’m not a girl.” You were caught off guard by his statement. He’s worried about… not being a girl? But you couldn’t see the relation between those two at all. Before you could scavenge your mind for another explanation, Megumi went ahead and answered your confusion. “People were excited to see Nobara’s image. She was a girl leading a noisy rock band, she was spontaneous and out there, if I was the band’s image it wouldn’t have the same effect, we’d just be like almost every other semi-popular band…”

He took a breath, before adding on, “It was her voice and character that distinguished us. Anyone could name at least ten different bands with guys like me leading them, but barely any with the same vibe she brought.”

You lingered over his explanation. He was an artist, he wanted to make something new, and besides his rather stoic outside you’d notice so far, he was more than happy to be part of something different. 

If only he had enough confidence to make himself into the character he wanted to be, because he definitely wasn’t shy either.

“...Just get up there and do it, at least for tonight. Try it.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

You could only watch in awe from the crowd. Megumi was majestic. His voice was hypnotizing, the way his bangs fell over his face, the light causing small reflections in his eyes, his hands moved gracefully over his black, beaten up guitar.

The instrument was something that could easily be overlooked, like a spare tossed back stage for an emergency. Yet in Megumi’s arms, he made it seem like the thing was a precious relic, capable of much more than it led on. The colored stage lights caused a halo glow around his silhouette, almost as if he was a saint. 

It could be an in the moment thing, the emotion of the crowd, the fact you were so close to him. Maybe it was the whiplash you got from seeing him just half an hour before as a quiet, mostly reserved guy, to a model worthy shot currently in front of you. But oh, he was the most handsome rockstar you’d ever seen. 

And still, you sadly understood what he meant earlier about the band. Megumi was special to you right now because you knew he was different on stage then off it. He was nowhere near bad, but also such a contrast from the atmosphere the band previously brought. His vocals ringing through your ears produced by the speakers was enough proof he was an insanely talented person, but it wasn’t as heavenly as it had been paired with a raspier, yet higher and emotion filled tone Nobara had brought. 

Megumi still stood out in other ways though. Instead of the ‘basic’ look most guys wore around this scene, which consisted of baggy jeans or japanese denim paired with an ironic graphic tee or vintage band one, Megumi took on more of a V-kei style inspiration. You could guess he probably put more effort into it when he had shows, but if someone showed you a picture of him and told you he was a member of a band like Luna Sea or X Japan before you had properly met him, you wouldn’t have doubted it.

He couldn’t be overlooked on stage, not in appearance at least, but besides that, what really made them stand out more than the other band that had previously gone up before? Even bands with other female leads lacked what they used to have. Loud, bold, mean lead singer, even if it was just a stage personality. A true diva you could say.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“That was ass…” Megumi mumbled, tossing his guitar case into the back of Maki’s black SUV. “What are you saying man? For a three person band we played great live!” Itadori announced, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Maki was already sitting in the driver's seat, clearly just wanting to go home at this point, considering Nobara wasn’t the only one that recently left the band. Their old fifth member had left a week ago for some exchange program. And now she was stuck around her strangely close to her age nephew and his chattery best friend. Megumi just scoffed and shut the trunk, dragging Itadori along to the car’s side door. “I missed a shit ton of notes because I focused too much on singing, my voice cracked like a hundred times-”

“Shut up! You were great, we were great!” Yuji cheered, just happy he had fun honestly. But he didn’t get it. As emo as it sounded, Megumi knew he was being a prick and just nitpicking, nonetheless, he couldn’t let go of the closest thing to perfect he had had. Music was more than just a stress reliever for him, he’d give up anything to be able to make this his career instead of working whatever lame corporate job he could settle for. Since he was little, even through his motivation loss of anything (and almost everything), he never let go of playing music, he never once left the house without his worn down red headphones, and he never planned on quitting his art. He never considered himself as a perfect person, that role belonged to his sister and his overly cheery best friend.

Megumi knew he could be a selfish man, and meeting you again that night proved it in more ways than one. 

He and Maki let Yuji drag them to a bar to meet up with Nobara as a celebration. Apparently it had karaoke, a detail he picked up when he walked through the front entrance. When they entered he wasn’t surprised to see Nobara up there already singing, she probably got bored of waiting even if it was just for a few minutes and wanted to have fun. What did catch him off guard however, was you. 

There you were, next to your friend on the bar’s makeshift stage, both of you performing some improvised cover of Celebrity Skin by Hole. The way you moved, your expressions, your voice. It was like he was starstruck. 

He never would have guessed he’d really run into you again after tonight, but he suddenly remembered what you had said earlier about finding another member to become the frontman of his band. He knew he needed to make sure he stayed in contact with you, convince you his band needed you. Feeling the waves of his insecurity still lingering, the desperation to achieve his band’s perfect form again, it drove him to stick by you the rest of the night after that. You took a shot, he followed. You chatted with a group and he’d stand silently by your side. Ask him a question and he’d answer. He kept the conversation rolling with you, easier now in comparison to earlier (most likely because of the alcohol) until he finally ‘popped’ the question. Would you be in his band? And he couldn’t swallow the slight irritation that rose in him when you just laughed. 

“You’re not serious right? You want me- not just in your band… but as the front of it?” He huffed almost silently, a hurt to his ego that you weren’t taking him seriously. “What’s so hard to believe? I saw you up there with Nobara earlier-“

“Fushiguro, listen I haven’t been in a band since highschool. Even then it was some crappy thing a guy I was dating had created, it was never serious…” He leaned more towards you, shifting slightly in the booth you had both cornered yourselves in. “So why’d you quit playing then? You clearly still love the scene, you watch all these bands play, but you don’t get involved?” 

You sighed before taking a sip of whatever tropical drink you had spontaneously let his other bandmate, Itadori, pick out before he wandered off. “Just other stuff… i’m going to college now, part time job to help pay for it and stuff, there’s no time, even if I wanted-”

“I’ll pay you for it- just be in the band”

What? 

“How much does your current job pay you? It’s not a… a real commitment right? I’ll pay you to be in the band- and don’t worry, I can afford it.”

Was this guy you just barely met seriously telling you he’d pay you to be in his band? You considered ditching him and leaving to go find Nobara, but before you could excuse yourself, he continued.

“You’re talented- really talented… I don’t wanna sound desperate, but you really seem like you could be great at this… tell me what your current job pays you, i’ll give you more than that, alright?”

You just stared at him shocked, you didn’t know if you just fell in love or grew more scared of him. 

“You’re insane.”

Megumi just huffed and slightly squinted his eyes at you, while you came to the conclusion he must be more drunk than you. “You said the last time you were in a band was because of your boyfriend right? Was that really it? Didn’t you enjoy it or even… want to do it?” You thought over his words, searching your brain for an answer that you already knew.

“He taught me guitar and… well I was in choir at the time, but I've always loved being in this scene, when he started a band… I was actually the one that offered to sing for it, I just wanted to be part of something different than what I was used to, like boring choir performances and getting yelled at by our teacher for wearing the wrong uniform, as if we were some professionals instead of just a shitty highschool choir. Honestly it’s probably why he ended up being my longest relationship, why I stayed with him even though he was lowkey one of those wanna be indie guys who are actually hidden misogynists. He gave me something I needed at the time.”

Megumi listened to you ramble on about how your highschool ex and his bandmates were kind of terrible guys to be around, all while reaching his own messy conclusion in his head. He sat there next to you, letting you get it all out while he worked through his own thoughts about what you had shared. If he was able to make you feel the same way your boyfriend had back then, by showing you something you wanted to be a part of, something to make your life more interesting, if he presented himself to you like something you needed then maybe you’d join in. He needed to convince you, prove why you wanted to be a part of his band. 

Megumi was about to speak up again, when suddenly a tray of shots was practically thrown onto the table. Megumi looked up, only to find a cheeky and halfway drunk Nobara looking down at them. She narrowed her eyes at him, before she slid the tray a bit closer to the two of you before she spoke up.

“Watch these- I bought them but we can’t finish them… I'll be back, just don’t let some drunk steal them.”

With that she walked off, most likely heading towards Maki to cling to her. 

He just sighed as his eyes followed after her, knowing she wasn’t going to come back for the drinks, and instead just picked one up for himself, downing it in just a few seconds. You copied his action, then set the glass down before speaking up again. 

“Listen… I just… don’t think it’s for me, thanks for the offer though.” 

Megumi could only observe you, he watched you mess with the shot glass you had placed down, taking in how the club’s lighting made certain aspects of your makeup stick out. The highlighter on your nose hadn’t really been noticeable before to him, but now he saw the small sparkles show in the lighting. Your eyeshadow seemed to grow faded under the tinted colored lights, although he couldn’t figure out if it was due to it being this late into the night or just some color theory gimmick. 

“...Just try it out with us at least, I won’t force you into this, if you really don’t want to… but seriously, think about it.” You exhaled, and let the exhaustion and alcohol take over you for a moment, just laying your head down on his shoulder. It was almost cute how he immediately tensed up, seeming to grow stiff at the unexpected physical contact. If he had pushed you off you wouldn’t be offended, but it surprised you when instead he hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting his hand hold onto your upper arm. 

You reached for another shot glass in front of you, sitting up slightly but still being in his embrace. You drank the alcohol, before turning your head to face him again.

“Why do you even want me in your band so badly?” you questioned him. Megumi held eye contact with you, tilting his head only slightly. “You’ve just... you have talent, it’s not hard to understand why. I want this band to go far, I wanna make something of my music... that includes trying to do what’s best for the band.”

“Does doing ‘what’s best for the band’ include cuddling up with some girl to try and persuade her to join your band?” 

To that, he just gave you a pointed look, seeming almost offended you’d accuse him of that. You let out a small laugh at his reaction, taking one of the few remaining shot glasses on the table, and in a state of tipsy braveness, putting it up to his lips. He understood the gesture, softening his expression and parting his lips, letting you tilt the drink into his mouth. You watched almost hypnotized as neither of you ever broke away from the other’s gaze. 

Megumi didn’t understand why he was letting you be so close to him, why he wasn’t pulling away. He chose to believe it was because he was desperate to have some sort of approval from you, the kind that would help you agree to his proposal, but another part of him couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you beyond that. So as the night played on, he let himself loosen up for the first time in a while. You were easy to get along with, at least in his eyes. You tried to understand his weird sarcastic jokes, even making him laugh with your own when you started to match his humor. And maybe it was the fact that he had been severely lacking any intimate form of affection that led him to so easily make such an out there decision. 

He soon found himself exhausted, laying next to you in his own bed, between his black silk sheets and cotton navy blue bed covers. Yet he didn’t regret any of it as he slowly let his memory catch up to his thoughts. Megumi turned on his side, glancing over your shoulder to watch what you were doing, the light on your phone illuminating your face, letting him clearly see your screen as well in the almost pitch black room. He almost let out a laugh when he saw you feeding and caring for some sort of digital pet you had on your phone. 

When Megumi felt comfortable enough with someone, he stopped overthinking his actions and just went with whatever his brain told him too in the moment. For him, what you had just done was not something meaningless and superficial, but if it happened with someone he wasn’t official with, he still believed there was an emotional connection there. And so he didn’t hesitate to drape an arm over your body, and tuck you in close, kissing the side of your neck. You didn’t dare push him away, even if it had only been less than half a day you’d spent with him, you could understand so far that he wasn’t the type to do something without any feeling behind it. You let him cuddle with you, let him hold you, because at the end of the day, you didn’t mind it at all either. 

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Megumi sat with you in his apartment’s living room. His taste for decor was definitely more vintage, most of the furniture seeming antique, most likely thrifted or bought from garage sales. Through lazy morning conversations he had convinced you to try playing at their next show with the band, he said he’d bring you to the practices if you needed a ride, and give you copies of their songs along with any videos of live performances he had saved. Now you just sat next to him on the couch, reading over lyrics of his band’s songs while he mindlessly tuned his guitar, trying to get it to his preferences after wearing it out last night. Some random cheesy drama playing on his TV on low volume became background noise after the movie you had both been previously watching on the channel ended.

Taking a break from reading lyrics, you turned your attention to watch his movements, seeing as he fidgeted with the strings in his guitar.

“…How long have you been playing?”

Megumi took his attention off the strings as he replied to you, “…Since I was still in grade school… my… guardian… gave me my first years ago, and I just kept playing from there.”

You noticed his slight hesitation when he mentioned who he had received his first instrument from, and so you chose to not focus on that. You figured he probably didn’t want to talk about that right now, and so you chose to ask a different question. 

“When did you know you wanted to go into music, as a career I mean?”

He strung the E string on his guitar one more time, before he sighed and just moved to gently lay it down on the empty spot next to him.

“Since I saw the college application requirements sophomore year of Highschool.” 

You smiled at his comment, just slightly shaking your head. 

“Seriously?” 

“No, well kind of… community college was always a choice, not a bad option either… but I never liked the idea of working on someone else’s schedule… I wanted to do something I actually enjoyed… not just because everyone else was doing it.” He took a pause and picked up his black coffee he had made earlier that morning with you. 

“Truth is, I wasn’t even bad at school, but nothing really gave me a calling… and then one day Maki asked me to join the band she was in… well that seemed interesting enough, then we needed a drummer, so I hesitantly got Yuji involved… and it just went from there.” He took a sip out of his drink, before placing it back down. You just hummed in response to his explanation, while Megumi directed his look towards you. “What are you in college for anyway?”

“Like why did I go to college?”

He blinked, before shaking his head slightly. “No… I mean your major.” 

“Oh, well I’m actually double majoring… in English and Visual Arts.” He gave you a short nod in reply. 

“Cool…”

“Yeah cool…”

There was a brief moment of silence while you returned back to reading the lyrics, however you both noticed how Megumi hadn’t taken his eyes off you. You were about to look back up, before being surprised when he moved to try and cuddle you into his side. He was an awkward guy, you could tell he wasn’t quite used to this type of ‘relationship’, but you didn’t pull away, maybe if you let him unwind in his own way he’d get the hang of it.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“He looks like a dead dog that had been thrown overboard, oh god, get him out of the pit now.”

You laughed at Maki’s insults of Nobara’s latest talking stage, having already had a fit after just seeing the picture of some scrawny guy with thick eyebrows trying to crawl his way out of a crowd at a show apparently. Megumi who was sitting next to you just cocked an eyebrow at the picture, observing how this guy had apparently gotten his limbs tangled with the people around him.

“Have you ever seen a rat king?” And his statement only caused you more laughter. Nobara just sighed and put her head in her hands, having given up on defending this guy. 

“Okay whatever, how about you guys just focus on training y/n again!”

Maki let out a scoff, while Megumi just rolled his eyes. Nobara sighed and looked at you, “How are you feeling by the way? One week before the next show… you think you’re ready?” You blinked, before letting a small smile form on your expression. “Yeah… I think so, I’ve got the setlist memorized, you and Maki helped me pick the cutest outfit yesterday… that’s everything right?” 

She smirked and leaned back a bit, clapping her hands together. “It’s perf, just remember to be extra, people wanna see a performance, get them in the mood.” You nodded, feeling excitement bubbling at the thought of Friday night this week.

Just then you all turned your attention to the front door of Maki’s house opening, seeing Yuji happily walk in with boba and smoothies in a drink carrier along with bags full of carryout hanging from both his arms. 

“Food’s here!” 

Nobara was the first to jump up, helping him carry it all quicker to the kitchen table, not out of courtesy, but actual hunger. Maki let out a quiet laugh at her reaction, before moving with you and Megumi towards the kitchen. 

Soon enough practice had come to a break as you all ate the food you’d ordered from the nearby Tawainese place. And while you busied yourself finishing up your side, you saw Nobara lean in from her seat next to you, a suspicious smile on her face. You could already guess what she was going to say. 

“So… you and Fushiguro?” You sighed and rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hold back the smile spreading on your face. “What about it?” She still looked at you with that same teasing smile, “Was he that good, it converted you into a prototype of Nana Osaki?” You just slapped her shoulder and shook your head. “Shut up… don’t even manifest that life on me, and he also had nothing to do with my decision… it seemed fun, and I wanted to try it.” She just giggled and stole a bite of your food, before sighing. “He’s too quiet to be attractive in my eyes… oh and he can definitely come off as pretentious at times, but… I guess he’s good enough for you.”

“Good enough?” You looked up at her statement. After finishing his food, he and Yuji wandered back into the living room, and based off his current flushed and annoyed expression, you figured they were having their version of you and Nobara’s conversation. 

“Well, we’ll just see where it goes…”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Oh, this was exciting. You had forgotten how freeing it felt to be up here, to be performing on stage. 

You weren’t going to lie, just an hour earlier you had been basically clinging to Megumi from nerves. What if you blanked and forgot all the lyrics? What if you sounded terrible? What if you were boring to watch? What if-

But your thoughts were soon cut off, when Megumi chose to gently kiss you, distracting you from the doubts plaguing your head. He pulled away only less than a centimeter, mumbling against your lips, “You’ll be great… you practiced enough for this, don’t stress.” You hummed in understanding, before giving him a chaste peck again, and then fully pulling away this time. “Thanks Megs…”

And you swore to always believe Megumi after that. It was so freeing. When you had been in a band back in highschool, it was exciting, made you feel like you could be this daring persona, even if you only played at packed basement and underground shows. This was like that, except multiplied by ten. 

Between the music, the movement and personality of the crowd, you had forgotten how much you enjoyed singing, until now.

You felt as if you owed Megumi half of your soul, after all, he was the reason you were up here right now. So as a sign of thank you, during the outro of the last song on your guys’ set, you ran over to him, slamming your lips against his, the action motivated by a wave of confidence the crowd's atmosphere had brought you. To say this was definitely the right move to finish would be an understatement. 

When the sounds around you faded, you found yourself backstage with Megumi after. Sheepishly apologizing to him for catching him so off guard. It was quite the contrast to how you carried yourself not even twenty minutes earlier, but all he did was shake his head and smile. 

“It’s fine… not like it was bad… actually, I had something to ask you.” You met his eyes, feeling your face cool down from the slight embarrassment you just faced. 

“Yeah?”

Megumi let there be another second of silence between you two, before finally asking it.

“We’ve been… hanging around each other a lot… and done some… stuff… together, so… I know this might not be the most romantic or correct setting to do this in but, would you wanna go on an actual date? Not just band practice or me taking you home… like… actually go out?”

Your eyes widened slightly, the flush that had previously left your face now returned, but you couldn’t deny the excitement that had risen up in you. 

“...Yes- I mean really… that’d be great Megs…” He let out a small breath of relief, and gave you a shy smile.

“Cool… thank you.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

You sat at your vanity, checking your makeup one more time before sighing and moving back, satisfied with the look. Currently wearing one of your favorite more ‘fancier’ outfits, your choice of music playing in the background. You mentally went over the list in your head, making sure you had everything done while grabbing your purse and throwing the last few extra items in. Letting out a sigh, you glanced at the time and sat down in the living room of your apartment, reading over Megumi’s last text, letting you know he was on his way. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to start dating the guitarist of the band you were now a part of, most stories don’t end well when they go like this, but that was just the cliche way things went. Screw the movies, they all lied about highschool, they’re probably lying about this. 

And besides, it wasn’t like Megumi was anything like the romance interests in the movies. He was an awkward, silent guy, and the more you thought about his way of being, the more you felt honored he had actually taken his focus onto trying to pursue you and off his music, which seemed to be his decided on life’s purpose. 

Lost in thought, you almost missed the knock on your door, you guessed signaling your date’s arrival. You made your way over, smiling when you had seen him standing awkwardly on the other side of your door through the peephole. He looked handsome, wearing a black button up and black denim, which just looked expensive on him. You could see the small bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

“Hey… you look great.”

You saw the smile form on Megumi’s face at the small compliment. “Thanks… I like.. The color of your dress, you look very pretty.” He looked over to the side, before stepping back from the door a bit, and finally handing you the flowers. “Nobara said these were your favorites… so if she got them wrong blame her, but i’ll get you the right ones next time.”

You felt a sense of fondness as you watched him there, knowing he had made an effort to find and bring them to you, this was definitely earning him some sort of brownie points. 

“Thank you Megs, really… don’t worry, these are my favorites,” you said as you took them from him, observing the petals and color for another second before moving to find a place to set them down, making a note to put them in a vase when you came back.

After making sure to properly lock your door, you took his hand on the way out. Leading him to the elevator, letting him press the button to the lobby.

“You’re still okay trying the place I told you about? It’s a new teppanyaki style place, and after that there's still that Jazz bar we can go to.” A ding of the elevator interrupts, and you hear the doors open at the second floor of the building. A girl walked in and you saw her look over you and Megumi, her gaze lingering on him for an extra moment before she just silently fits herself into the other corner of the elevator when she sees the lobby button had already been pressed. You just return to your conversation with Megumi, choosing not to ponder on her presence. 

“I would’ve just taken you straight to the bar, but besides their music, their food’s not that good…” he scrunched his nose a bit just at the reminder of it, and you just let out a short giggle. “Sounds perfect. I’m excited.” He seemed happy with your reassurance, and just tightened his hold on your hand, lightly rubbing his thumb in a circle on your skin. 

Soon enough you were both making your way outside of your apartment building and to where his car had been parked. With how alternative his image had been, you weren’t surprised to see him driving an older car. In fact you kind of predicted his personal car would’ve been more on the vintage side, but to find the gorgeous 1960’s impala almost made you go into shock. You knew he took good care of it just based on its exterior condition, and as he led you to the passenger seat’s door and opened it for you, you came to the conclusion this man was not real, and in fact a figment of your imagination. You gave his hand a tight squeeze as if to confirm his existence, before moving completely into the seat, and he only gave you a small questioning look, before shrugging it off and moving to get into his driver’s seat.

Based on the lyrics he wrote and ideals he discussed in his songs, you could tell he didn’t really care for tradition, but even then he was a gentleman. 

Megumi started the car and moved out of his previous parking spot, glancing over to make sure you seemed comfortable still, before speaking up, “I’ve got an aux cord… and some CD’s put away in front of you… whatever you're into.” Nodding in response you moved to turn on the radio, scared to leave even the smallest scratch or insignificant imprint anywhere. When you pressed the button, his previous CD that he had left in there started playing, and you decided not to remove it, liking the sound of whatever he had been playing before. He of course noticed, and took the opportunity to ask. “You're not gonna change it?” You looked over to him softly smiling, before returning your gaze back to the front of the road, watching the streetlights pass you by. “I like it, think I've heard it before…”

He hummed in response, keeping his eyes on the road, “It’s Depeche Mode.”

“They’re… Goth?”

There was a slight tug at his lips, before nodding, yet still not removing his eyes from the road.

“Something like that…”

The rest of the way went by with the radio on, and Megumi occasionally breaking the silence by asking you small talk questions. Spending time with Megumi had made you realize he was more of a ‘silent type’. He would ask you questions and answer you whenever you spoke to him, but he never said more than he had too. It’s like he ‘enjoyed the silence’, and preferred to show his emotions through actions rather than words. Physical touch and quality time were definitely more of his love language, and you didn’t mind that at all, because one way or another, he showed he cared, and showed he had genuine interest in you. You’d rather have evidence of that than empty words afterall.

Finally arriving at the restaurant, Megumi parked and got out of the car, and you didn’t miss the fast paced walk he did to get over to your side of the door to open it for you before you beat him to it. 

He took your hand again after you had gotten out of the car, leading you inside the restaurant, and all the way to your table. Megumi, besides his stoic and sort of intimidating exterior, was gentle when he wanted to be. When you both sat at the large table with a few other separate parties, he didn’t let go of your hand, not until the drinks had been set at the table. And even then he chose to push his chair in closer to yours than the stranger that set to the left of him. 

There were small signs he gave, actions of attraction, but it did catch you off guard when he suddenly became more protective of you the minute your table’s chef seemed to take a liking towards you. You could assume that part of his job was to be charismatic, complimenting the women that sat at their table and picking fun or joking with the men, but a specific compliment thrown towards you made Megumi tense up. Then when he ‘jokingly’ made a small heart with the cooking oil and fire and dedicated it to you, no one missed the glare Megumi threw at him. You didn’t ponder too much on it, but it oh so amused you how your previously quiet date suddenly became more interested in verbal interaction with you. When the chef made another glance towards you, Megumi quickly acted to suddenly have something to tell you. You became even more surprised when he seemed to run out of quick comments to spout out and started telling you short stories of his life. 

Soon his distraction had worked, and the two of you fell into your own conversations, not missing the few tricks the chef did while preparing the rice and your other choice of food, but definitely more submerged in your own world than whatever the rest of the table was up to. 

Even after Megumi’s… passive aggressiveness, the chef still smiled at the two of you, and you gave him a thank you, while Megumi only gave him a quick nod. The food having been served in front of the two of you still hot from just recently coming off the grill, you turned to Megumi when he started talking again.

“Have you ever eaten at places like this before?”

Thinking for a moment, before you responded to him, “Once or twice, with some friends… but this one’s different, the aesthetic of the place looks fancier…”

“Really?”

“Yeah… think it’s the lighting honestly… it’s more… I don’t know, romantic almost.”

“Well… that would be the point.”

You huffed and nudged him, before finally trying the food in front of you. You savored the taste, before making your opinion on it. “Oh… it’s really good, honestly, the cook did a good job.” 

Megumi just hummed in response, looking over your plate after taking a bite of his own meal. “It’s alright… nothing special…” You heard him mutter that last part, and almost giggled at his lingering jealousy.

“Could you cook like this?”

He continued eating, before pausing for a moment.

“Definitely… Gojo couldn’t cook growing up, and no offense to Tsumiki, she could definitely cook, but I think I was the best chef to come out of that household.”

“Oh, cocky are we?”

Megumi gave you a look at your sentence, he saw the teasing smile on your face, and it couldn’t help but be contagious.

“...It’s the truth, her food wasn’t bad, but it was always sweet in some way…”

“Not a fan of sweets?”

He shook his head a bit, finishing the food in his mouth before speaking. “Not really… it over-stimulates my mouth, I don’t know how anyone handles overly sweet stuff, like cotton candy or those giant cookies… it’s just unhealthy too, and expensive. It’s a waste of money.”

“Well yeah… but when you're in the mood, some money spent on a little sweet treat never hurts anyone…”

“A gambling addict has said some variation of that sentence before too, and look at those guys…”

You scoffed and shook your head, yet your smile still hadn’t disappeared. “Those are nowhere near the same thing…”

“If you like them, I won’t judge you, but I’m letting you know now.” You watched as he then took another bite of his food, clearly enjoying it despite his earlier one sided beef with the chef. 

“If I got one after this would you share it with me?”

He thought about it for a moment, before sighing. “Well… I guess it’d be rude to deny my date’s request…”

And he almost regretted his decision the moment he took his third bite of the overly sweet cake you had decided to order after your dinner. You laughed at his expression, as he let the spoon fall a little too dramatically on the plate, while he turned his face away. He knew he wouldn’t like it on the first bite, he pushed down the second bite, and just gave up on the last one. 

“Didn’t like it ‘gumi?”

“...You can finish it.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

The atmosphere of the romantically lit, elegant Jazz bar offered a much warmer ambience than what the chilly sidewalk you and Megumi had previously been walking down had. You loosely held onto his arm while Megumi led you to a small table with only two seats. A simple but darling candlelit centerpiece decorated your table, along with a cotton tablecloth. 

Once you had situated yourself at the table, Megumi hesitated for a second before moving to sit down, you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“...Do you want a drink?”

You glanced at the bar along one side of the room, before nodding and telling him your drink order. He then made his way over to the bar, and you observed his familiarity with the place, the way he spoke more casually to the bartender as if he knew him, which he probably did. However you noticed the way the bartender seemed surprised when he looked over and saw you at a table. He turned his attention back to Megumi and it looked like he made a teasing comment, to which your date just rolled his eyes at. 

After a few more minutes, he made his way back to you holding both your drinks. Placing them down in front of you, he settled into the chair next to you.

“Do you often come watch people play here?”

Megumi trailed his gaze to the front of the room, the small and stylish stage lit up with a warm toned spotlight, along with its polished wood floor.

“I’m not just a rockstar… what’s the point of liking music if you only limit yourself to one genre?” 

“That’s true… I mean, there's something good from every type of music…”

Megumi hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on one of the instruments propped on the back wall of the stage. “Exactly…”

You’d guess around ten minutes passed by, before you saw a beautifully dressed woman make herself on stage, she carried herself with an atmosphere of elegance yet friendliness, and introduced the first performer of the night. A few seconds after she walked off and you saw a man behind her start to play.

You were immediately mesmerized, and the enchantment only intensified as he continued playing. His music was beautiful, you could say he had a bit of modern influence, but still much respect for the classics. There were a few other people in the background helping create background instrumentals, but the saxophone the main performer played really stole the show. 

You and Megumi continued watching the whole performance, and at the end when the man said his goodbye’s to the crowd, Megumi turned to you.

“...What would you think of adding any sort of Jazz influence to rock music?”

You blinked in response, trailing your eyes over his face, noticing a glimmer in his eyes that seemed to contain inspiration.

“Like.. a rock-jazz band?”

He shook his head slightly, before answering, “No… not really but, a few musical influences from it, there’s a possibility there for a few great songs…”

You hummed in response, “Well, I think there’s definitely a way to turn it into something, switch some guitar harmonics…”

He tilted his head slightly, picking up his drink and sipping from it, “Definitely…”

You smiled and shook your head. “You’re such a music nerd…” 

He only gave you a playful glare at your comment.

It amused you how he seemed to relate everything back to the band if you let him. but you knew better than anyone you admired his dedication and passion.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

After the performances had ended at the bar, Megumi had offered you to come over, and the last thing you’d consider was to turn him down. You walked into his place, already being familiar with the atmosphere of his apartment. A movie had originally been put on, but after the main plot had wandered off so far from the original story, you both concluded it wasn’t worth watching anymore. But instead of turning it off, the two of you had ended up getting distracted with short kisses, which had now escalated into a full on makeout session.

Megumi held you close to him, letting you lean onto him, as he tilted his back on the couch to some degree, letting you slowly slip more and more onto his lap. He had run one of his hands up your collarbone, and was now teasingly tugging on your bra strap under the clothes. Just when he was about to make another move, you were both interrupted by a sudden weight pouncing on him, and startled, you pulled away from feeling fur suddenly rub against you, only to laugh when realizing what had happened. 

Megumi groaned when he was caught off guard by his dog, the large white husky lapping at his face excitedly. Unbeknowningly just having ‘cockblocked’ his owner. 

“You just chose to wake up now huh?” he grumbled out, and although his expression was annoyed, the way he petted and ruffled the dog's fur gave away his true feelings. About to express your surprise, it was just added onto when you saw and felt another black husky wander past your legs. 

“You didn’t tell me you had dogs!” you announced, excited by the revelation of his pets. The white dog which had previously nudged himself between the two of you, now excitedly turned to you, smelling your face before starting to happily try to lick at your face, only to be pulled back by Megumi.

“Why didn’t I see them last time I was over?”

Successfully getting his white dog to stay back, he sighed and looked at you again. “They were asleep… like they should be right now.” Besides his obviously pointed look at the pair, they only seemed to joyfully watch their owner, clearly just happy to see him.

“There’s not a thought behind those eyes…” He muttered out, watching as the black dog now attempted to jump up on the couch and make space for himself too. 

You didn’t mind the dogs at all really, running your hands over their furs, and at the first hint of affection from you, they both focused on your presence. 

“Don’t do that… they won’t leave you alone after.” You ignored his warning and just laughed at the dogs’ clear playfulness with you. “That doesn’t sound bad at all…”

“...Yeah, until they're suffocating you in your sleep.”

Megumi watched you interact with his pets, and although he was trying to act annoyed, he couldn’t hold back the soft smile that eventually formed on his face.

“Y’know… it’s cruel if you let them get attached if you don’t come over often…”

You glanced up at Megumi, looking at him with an intrigued look. “...Are you… bribing me Megumi?” He just shrugged in response. 

“I mean… if you’re not actually gonna… make anything official… it’s cruel to lead them on no?”

You scoffed playfully, “...Are we still just talking about the dogs?” He pretended to ponder for a second, before shrugging again. “...I know we’ve only been on one official date but… we’ve spent enough time together… for me to not be considered a weirdo if I asked you out... right? 

“Like… to officially be your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, officially…”

You thought it over for a moment, watching the hopeful yet nervous look in his eyes. Megumi wanted you, more than he had thought he’d end up so. Your mind tracked back over the past month and a half since you had met him, and besides his original motive for approaching you, you couldn’t deny his clear genuine romantic interest in you. 

“That’s fine… I'd… really love that.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author’s notes

HIII GUYS!!! this is my first ever fan fic im sorry it’s like humongous, but i really hoped you enjoyed!!!

tysm so much if you read the whole thing it means so muchhhh

i’m thinking about turning this one into a series and just writing more story as the band continues to grow, so if you guys are interested pls pls pls let me know!!

did u guys catch the depche mode pun 😇

anyways, again tysm for reading, and please like & reblog if you enjoyed it!!

besos mwah 😽

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Welcome Home, Tough Guy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost Riley X Reader

Warnings: fluff, reader acting silly and get to see some humanity in Simon instead of just the soldier we know he is

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, i needed to see Simon as more of a human, so… here’s the baby boy

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The past few weeks had been long and lonely without Simon. The countdown to his return felt endless, and in the days leading up to his homecoming, you’d channeled your anticipation into planning a celebration. It was silly, maybe even a little over-the-top, but you wanted to welcome him back in a way that showed him he was loved and that he could let his guard down here.

So, after a lot of last-minute tweaks and second-guessing, you finally set up your surprise: a big “WELCOME HOME, TOUGH GUY” sign, balloons you’d blown up by hand, a lopsided banner, and a snack table packed with all his favorite treats. You knew it might be too much for Simon, who always tried to slip back home as quietly as he could, but you couldn’t resist. After all, he deserved something a little special.

When you finally heard the familiar rumble of his truck pulling up outside, your heart skipped a beat, and you practically sprinted to the door, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. Through the window, you caught sight of him as he stepped out, his tall, broad frame cutting an imposing figure in the fading light. Despite his usual guarded posture, there was something softer in his eyes as he looked up at the house.

As he made his way to the door, he froze, taking in the decorations with a raised eyebrow. His gaze lingered on the crooked banner, the balloons, and finally, the giant welcome sign on the door. His mouth twitched, the hint of a smile breaking through his usually stoic expression.

“Really?” he muttered, his tone deadpan. “A sign?”

“Oh, come on!” you teased, barely able to contain your excitement as he came up the steps. “After all this time away, you think I wouldn’t celebrate?”

He shook his head, clearly fighting back a laugh. “Didn’t peg you for the ‘welcome home party’ type.”

“Well, I’m making an exception for you,” you replied, hands on your hips. “You deserve it.”

He paused, glancing at you with an expression that was somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Deserve a good meal and a quiet night, maybe. Not… all this.” He gestured to the decor, and you could see he was a bit overwhelmed.

“Oh, please.” You gave him a playful nudge as you guided him inside. “There’s even snacks.”

“Snacks?” His eyebrow lifted again as he took in the spread of chips, sandwiches, and a few neatly arranged drinks on the table. “Didn’t know I’d be gettin’ the five-star treatment.”

“Only the best for you, big guy,” you teased, and motioned to the couch where you’d piled up every blanket and pillow you could find. “Now, sit back and let me pamper you.”

Simon sighed but didn’t argue, sinking into the mountain of blankets with a look of amused exasperation. “I feel like I’m at some kind of spa,” he muttered.

“Exactly!” You handed him a cup of iced tea with a tiny, bright pink umbrella sticking out. “A full tropical experience, just for you.”

He stared at the drink, glancing at you with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. “An umbrella?”

“Obviously,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. “Welcome to paradise.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe any of this was real. Then, with a faint shake of his head, he took a careful sip, holding the tiny umbrella off to the side. You could tell he was trying to keep his usual stoic composure, but the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was impossible to hide.

“Happy now?” he asked, glancing over at you with a smirk.

“Very,” you replied, settling in beside him with a grin. “Now, relax. Let me spoil you a bit.”

Simon gave a resigned sigh, leaning back against the cushions. But as he looked around at the makeshift decorations, you noticed a softness in his expression, a rare ease that he reserved just for moments like these.

“Missed you,” he murmured, his voice low, and reached out to take your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. The simple confession hit you like a wave, filling your heart with warmth.

“Missed you too,” you replied, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You know, you really need to take more breaks. You deserve some softness now and then.”

He let out a short chuckle, looking down at you with that rare, affectionate gaze. “Spoilin’ me with pink umbrellas and throw pillows, yeah?”

“Exactly,” you said, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “Think of it as a taste of what life could be like if you ever let yourself actually relax.”

He shook his head, but you caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d ever be the kinda man to need all this,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost too soft to hear. “Didn’t know I needed it ‘til I met you.”

The admission made your heart ache with a fierce tenderness, and you reached up to brush a hand across his cheek. “Everyone needs a little comfort, Simon. Even you.”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his gaze deep and searching, as though he was trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then, with a rare gentleness, he shifted, slipping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. You nestled into his side, feeling the steady, reassuring warmth of his presence.

In that silence, he started running his fingers through your hair, the slow, soothing rhythm lulling you into a comfortable haze. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the closeness, the softness of him in this moment. It was a side of Simon few ever got to see—the man beneath the mask, the one who craved peace just as much as you did.

After a while, you stirred, looking up at him with a playful grin. “So… what’s next? Movie? Board game? Or maybe I’ll make us some popcorn?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re just lookin’ for an excuse to beat me at somethin’, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you teased, poking his side. “Or maybe I just want an excuse to spend more time like this. With you.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You don’t need an excuse, love. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

As he held you, you felt the weight of his words settle into your heart, filling you with a deep, quiet happiness. For tonight, there were no missions, no walls between you, and no expectations—just Simon, your Simon, wrapped up in blankets and silly decorations, basking in a rare moment of pure, unguarded peace.

Here, in this cozy little bubble you’d created together, he wasn’t Ghost. He was simply Simon—the man who loved you, who let you see every part of him, even the sides he tried to hide. And for you, that was the greatest gift of all.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[cupidriki]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE — psh

PRECiS ♡ you didn’t plan to attend sunghoon’s birthday party, but you reluctantly went and ended up kissing him — the man you hate the most.

park sunghoon x fem! reader ୨୧ non idol au fluff some angst ・ implied second chance kissing mistletoe kissing exes to lovers this might be a trailer hehe skin ship parties ( wc : 1040 ) — reblogs, comments, and likes are very appreciated

ai’s love note 💌 this is for liz’s season of love event !! ^0^ (im so glad you’re back liz) sorry this is corny btw ..

You scanned the room anxiously, noticing no familiar faces as you crossed your arms in nervousness. You never enjoyed parties.

But once you noticed Sunghoon walking towards you, a sense of relief washed over you as you saw him approaching, making you sigh in relief.

Park Sunghoon - the only person who can make a lie taste so sweet. The way he can make a comment so dulcet feels like he possesses some kind of power when his words roll off his tongue.

“I’m glad you came, love.” He had a silly grin on his face. He always flirted with you, never leaving your side. You avoided his flirty remarks because why would he love you? So, you kept your distance and pushed him away.

“Hoon, how many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?” Your voice was annoyed, making Sunghoon curve into his signature grin. He was excited like a little boy hearing his nickname from you.

“But if I leave you alone, I’d have to annoy girls who are interested in me” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. He’s been continuously chasing after you like a dog and is always attached to you, scaring off any guy who dares to stare in your direction.

“Like you could ever find one” It’s clear you were lying; Sunghoon can have any girl he wants.

“See that, there! Who needs affection when you could have blind hatred” Sunghoon had a smug grin on his face, inching closer to yours. Your heart skipped a beat, but you chose to ignore it and scoffed, not wanting to feed into his trap.

“Anyways, how about a birthday kiss to make this birthday special?” The arrogant man lifted your chin to lock your gaze on his tall figure, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Whatever..” You whispered to yourself, hoping that Sunghoon hadn’t heard you.

He gently guided you to an empty corner, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a playful grin lighting up his face. The innocence of his smile was contagious, and it tugged at your lips.

Without warning, a sharp gasp pierced the air, drawing your attention. Sunghoon stood there, his eyebrows arched high in a sarcastic way, a smirk playing on his lips. He pointed at the ceiling, making you look up in curiosity.

A single sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, it glistening softly in the dim light.

Sunghoon wore a dreamy, lovesick smile that lit up his face, his eyes gleaming with hope and mischief. You couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh, disbelief washing over you.

You would be lying if you said you didn't want to kiss him and his plump lips. However, your ego was too high to admit your feelings and lose to his challenge. “See? Even Santa wants us together”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as he stepped closer, his height towering over yours. His hot breath brushed against your skin, causing a shiver to run through you. How could a man make your skin crawl while also making your heart flutter at the same time?

“Well then.. Let's make this Christmas special, shall we?” The tall man gently pressed you against the wall, placing your wrist on it. His eyes gazed down at you before moving his gaze lower to your lips, making your heart race.

Your breath hitched as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and placed his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him.

As he muttered a quiet voice of permission, you nodded without thinking before he crashed his lips onto yours. You felt his racing heartbeat that made you think for a second that maybe he was sincere about how he felt about you.

But you were wrong.

Now, snapped back to reality, you feel foolish for believing such an empty lie. Sunghoon never loved you as deeply as you loved him, and you will never see his face again. You stared at the old jacket that you forgot to give back to him, missing all the memories you two made.

Nothing about him could escape your thoughts: the scent of his Tamburins perfume, the delicate way his touch glides over your soft skin, and the way his plump, soft lips brush against yours, leaving a hint of strawberry chapstick.

Memories flood your mind as you let out a sigh, feeling a heaviness in your heart. You remember the times you spent making out in your pink, girly room, stargazing at the moon together, and laughing at your inside jokes, wishing those moments would never end. Each thought makes you miss him more, always searching for his familiar face in a crowd where he’s never present.

His sharp nose, the moles you can count all day, and his messy dark brown hair made you miss him. It seems impossible for him to leave your mind. You want to give up on him - and you know you have to.

You stared at the notification glowing on your phone screen and sighed when you saw your friends once again trying to set you up on a blind date. You thought to yourself that maybe agreeing to it could help take your mind off him, even if just for a short while. With that in mind, you picked up your phone and replied to your friends with a simple, "Fine."

You know deep down that nobody could fit your puzzle piece like Sunghoon, but you know he has never thought of you since the day you two last met - so you have to move on.

But what you couldn't see was Sunghoon lying on his large bed, staring at your photos—missing you so deeply that his heart ached.

He let out a sigh and moved his gaze to the suitcase with his clothes and items. His thoughts were racing as he doubted whether you’d give him another chance to hold you in his arms again.

He wondered how you would react when you saw him again. You probably hated him, and that was okay. All he wanted was to see your familiar face one last time, and he was determined to do that.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 9

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.5k

Note : I've been writing a lot lately because I have a week's worth of break lol. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

"Ticking Time Bomb"

Monday.

The next morning, you joined the team in the training gym. 

Bucky woke up early. When you got there, he was already there, casually leaning against a stack of weights, his ever watchful eyes tracking you across the room. He gave you a subtle smile that only you would notice, and the sweetness on his lips brought back his gentle touches and lingering kisses he gave you last night. It made your stomach flip.

You tried to focus on the training exercises.

You really did. 

You kept your stance right, threw your punches with precision, and were careful with your footwork, but Bucky’s presence remained a wonderful distraction. Every time your eyes met, you felt that same giddy rush, the kind that made it nearly impossible to keep your head straight.

It didn’t help that he was teasing you a little, too. During sparring practice, he’d tap your elbow to correct your form, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary. His hand would trail over your shoulder as he passed, a little reassuring, a little flirtatious.

Finally, after wrapping up another session with Clint and Scott, he pulled you aside to a quieter corner of the training room under the pretense of adjusting your technique. His voice was soft and he was close enough that you felt his breath against your cheek. “Need to keep that elbow higher,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to rest gently on your arm, guiding it into place.

But it was obvious neither of you was paying attention to technique.

“Right here?” you whispered, your voice playful as you met his gaze. You leaned into him a little, taking in his vanilla aftershave.

“Mmhm,” he replied, his tone softening. He leaned out of the corner quickly, seeing Clint and Scott excuse themselves from the gym to go to dinner together.

In one quick, brave moment, you leaned in and kissed him, a sweet, simple kiss that had grown frequent in the days leading up to this. Bucky’s hand came up to cradle your face as he deepened the embrace.

It was intoxicating. His lips, warm and steady against yours, had become another anchor in your life, a new memory blooming from nothingness. Every time he kissed you. everything around you started fading away.

a and you didn’t mind.

As you pulled back, still lost in his gaze, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye. 

Yelena stood in the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the dim light behind her. Arms crossed tight over her chest, looking like a storm was brewing over her head.

You studied darkened the cut above her eyebrow, a stale bruise turning her cheekbone purple beneath the skin.

You caught yourself wondering if the marks were from her last sparring session with Bucky. They were of a similar intensity, but unlike him, Yelena didn’t have the luxury of a healing factor. Every pain of hers was so devastatingly human. 

As her gaze locked onto the two of you, her spine straightened. Her eyes, cold and unblinking, struck like daggers, dissecting the scene before her. 

And it made her stomach knot.

She didn’t say a word, not yet; she simply watched. Her expression was unreadable, but you could feel the tension radiating from her like waves crashing on the hull of a ship. 

There was a hint of fierceness in her eyes— something between anger and disappointment. Then, without a single word, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving the door swinging shut behind her.

She had slammed it shut so hard that some of the weightlifting bars rattled.

You stood there in stunned silence. Your heart pounded as you glanced up at Bucky, who seemed just as tense. 

He tried forcing a calm look on his face, But you could feel the shift between you, a subtle tension lingering in the air, a crack in the heat of the moment you’d found together.

You stared again, at the door where Yelena had disappeared, a knot forming in your stomach. Her reaction lingered, simmering like a quiet echo of something you couldn’t quite place. You turned to Bucky, your tired eyes narrowing in confusion. 

You had told her how you felt about Bucky in the museum.

I’m happy for you, she had said then, you sound at peace with him.

She had not been disapproving then, why was she so disapproving now?

“Why is she so upset?” you asked. Your voice was soft, a note of worry beneath it. 

Bucky’s expression shifted so slowly, almost imperceptibly. His mouth pressed into a thin line. He was usually good at being unreadable, but in that moment, his face gave away more than he probably intended.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally said, his tone careful. It's as if he was choosing each word with precision. He reached out, his hand landing gently on your arm again. “But it’s not something you need to worry about. I’ll talk to her.”

“Bucky,” You searched his eyes, waiting for him to explain further, to give you a hint of whatever knowledge was lingering just out of reach, “if there’s something I should know…”

He shook his head, his thumb absently brushing along your forearm. “This is my responsibility,” he murmured. “You and Yelena… she’d always been protective of you. I’ll talk to her.”

His voice was steady, comforting, but the knot in your stomach didn’t ease. You trusted him, but something in your gut told you this wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. 

Still, you nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Ok.”

“She just cares about you.” His lips hesitantly curved into a small, reassuring smile. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You gave him a hopeful smile. But as he pulled away and walked down the hallway toward where Yelena had gone, the question still echoed in your mind, unanswered.

—

Bucky found Yelena down the dim hallway, her back against the wall, arms crossed. Her jaw was set, eyes colder than a December blizzard in Moscow. As soon as he stopped, she fixed him with a stare that sliced through him.

She didn’t waste a second once he approached, her voice low and sharp. “Have you told her?” she demanded, voice low and sharp.

He hesitated, a beat too long, and the silence was telling enough. 

Her laugh was quick, bitter. She shattered the illusion like breaking glass. “Of course you didn’t.”

“I—”

“You can’t just act like everything’s fine, Barnes.” Her voice, barely controlled. It sent a chill down his spine. The edges were raw, each word dipped in into her own pain.

“Yelena, listen—” he started, a warning lacing his voice. He was desperate, but she didn’t flinch.

“She deserves the truth, Barnes.” The words hissed from her, venomous and guttural. “Every time you look at her, every time you lie to her face with that perfect little smile of yours, you’re keeping her in this prison of her own head.” Her voice cracked, but her resolve did not.

A mask of defiance slipping over his darkening eyes. “It’s better this way.” He forced the words out, gaze fixed somewhere over the former Widow’s shoulder. “I’m here for her now. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.”

“Better? Better?” Yelena’s lips curled, disdain twisting her face. “You think letting her believe that you’ve always been this perfect guy is better?” Her voice had risen, words lashing out. It felt like she was striking him with another punch, the memory of her drawing blood from his lips echoing in his mind.

The accusation sliced through him, and his defenses faltered. His eyes dropped for just a moment, a flicker of shame surfacing.

“This doesn't erase how you were before,” she pressed, her voice lowering to something almost tender, almost pitying. “It doesn’t erase what you said.”

He tensed, grief flickering behind his eyes, but Yelena pushed on, relentless. 

“She told me, Barnes.” She took a step closer, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “The night before everything went to shit. She told me you said you didn’t want her around. That you felt like you couldn’t breathe when she was near you.” She let the words hang, sharp, brutal, watching each one sink in and striking the target with lethal precision.

Bucky went still, his expression cracking open as if her words had ripped the scab from an old wound he thought had healed. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he was utterly, devastatingly silent.

“I…”  he managed, “She told you that?” his voice barely a whisper. His face was haunted, raw, like she’d peeled back every layer he’d built up.

“Of course she did,” Yelena’s voice softened, saying it as if she was obvious.

“She came to me that night, shattered.” Yelena continued, but there was not a single hint of mercy in it. “She told me how she kept breaking herself apart for you, piece by piece, waiting for you to see— and then you broke her heart because you wouldn’t admit you loved her then.”

His hands clenched at his sides. His face was a mix of guilt, regret, and self-loathing. “I thought I was protecting her.” His voice was barely audible, frayed at the edges. “Keeping her safe from… from me. I didn’t know how to handle what I felt for her then.”

“You might’ve convinced yourself that you did it for her, but we both know it was for you.” Yelena let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. Her Russian accent was thicker now, her voice colder, harsher, as if she was trying to bury whatever part of herself might have sympathised with him. “You pushed her away because you were afraid, and now you’re lying to her because you’re still afraid.”

She was right, and he couldn’t deny it. Every instinct in him told him to protect you, to keep you from the truth. But each lie he told, each omission, was building a fragile illusion that he knew couldn’t last forever.

But he wasn’t ready to let go. 

Not now.

Not ever.

“One week, Barnes.” Yelena’s voice was like steel, her gaze piercing. “You have one week to tell her everything.” She took a breath, but it was laced with fury, eyes blazing with a dangerous certainty. “Or I will.”

“Yelena… don’t do this.” Bucky looked up, his eyes pleading, voice cracking. “Please—”

“One week.” She spat the words, leaving no room for negotiation. No room for debate.

There was a cold finality that seemed unbreakable. 

Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. 

Bucky now stood alone, desperate to keep what he had.

—

You cornered Bucky in the kitchen that evening, his back to you as he pretended to focus on cleaning up.

You could see the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t been himself since the conversation with Yelena; something was up.

“Bucky,” you started, gently but firmly. “What’s going on with Yelena?”

He paused for a fraction of a second, then kept scrubbing a plate that was already clean. “What do you mean?” His voice was too casual, his face too carefully neutral.

You tilted your head, studying his movements. “Did something happen when you talked to her?”

“No. Nothing happened.” He forced a shrug, his tone dismissive. “She’s just being protective. You know how she is.”

“Bucky.” You took a step closer, lowering your voice. “I know when you’re hiding something. I can tell.”

He let out a deep breath, setting the plate down. “Yelena’s just… she worries too much,” He finally turned to face you, forehead creased with tension. “She’s your friend, and she wants to make sure you’re okay. Sometimes she goes a little overboard.”

“That’s not what this is.” You crossed your arms, frustration building. “There must be something specific she’s upset about. She barely looked at me when she left. Did I do something to hurt her–”

“No, doll, of course not,” He shook his head, a hint of guilt in his eyes, but he pushed it down. “She’s just… overthinking things.”

You took a steadying breath, unwilling to let it go. “Can you please tell me if it has something to do with me?”

He looked at you, a spark across his ruggedly handsome features. For a moment, you thought he might open up. But then he quickly shut it down, his voice firm with fake conviction. 

“Yelena’s got her own stuff going on,” he said. “It doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

“Darling,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, searching for his eyes that wouldn’t yours. “Whatever it is… just tell me.”

Your eyes— loving, unwavering, filled with a warmth that wrapped around him like a promise. Your touch, it felt like a hand reaching out to pull him from the darkness he used to live in.

He couldn’t tell you. He wouldn’t. Not now, not with everything still fucked up and tangled inside him, not when the truth might shatter that beautiful, fragile trust of yours.

He held your gaze for a moment, but then he shook his head, his expression hardening. Instead, he lied, “It’s nothing you don’t know.”

He knew the lies were going to pile up, each one stacking higher, heavier, until they would threaten to crush everything he was trying so hard to protect. He’d known for a while now that things were slipping, spiraling out of control like a freight train without any breaks. What started as harmless omissions, things he told himself you didn’t need to know, had twisted into a web he’d tangled himself in.

He hadn’t meant to lie to you. 

But here he was, watching himself dig a hole so deep he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to claw his way out. With every false reassurance, every carefully hidden truth, he could feel the ground shifting beneath his feet, pulling him further into his living grave.

And you? You could feel the distance building between you, a wall he was desperately trying to keep up, and it left a hollow feeling in your chest. “I just… I feel like something’s wrong, and I can’t help but feel like you’re not telling me the whole story.”

Bucky’s whole posture tensed. He forced a smile, a half-hearted attempt to reassure you. “I told you everything, okay?” He lied again, the words stumbling over each other as he tried to reassure you. “Yelena’s just being Yelena. She’s overprotective. Don’t let it get to you.” 

He sighed, noticing how… aggressive he had been. 

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there. It was almost as if he hoped the gesture alone would somehow close the crater between you. 

“Let’s just… focus on us, alright?” he whispered, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His words sounded sweet, but they were thin, unconvincing. Even as he tried to comfort you, there was a wall you could feel but not quite see.

You could sense it— something he kept just out of reach, a small fortress of secrets he wasn’t ready to share. 

And yet, even with all the tension, all the unspoken fears, you trusted him anyway.

You loved him anyway. 

Maybe it was the way he looked at you, as if he was terrified of losing you, or the way he always reached for your hand, a silent plea to believe in him just a little bit longer. 

-To be continued

Taglist :

 @hzdhrtss @irisk12 @tayyyystan @seventeen-x @lomlbuckybarnes 

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa 

@nngkay @hiireadstuff @sapphirebarnes @thatesqcrush @bethexo07 

@florie1 @nyutasgirl @coraliix @harrysgothicbitch @jules-and-gemss

@infqnitysblog @isnow-0r-never @roofwitty779 @baw1066 @wasalreadyhere

@cjand10 @greatmistakes @winterslove1917 @calwitch @sebastians-love

@gyllord @brckenmemories @ethereal-witch24 @diffidentphantom

@avatarofthetimelords @lumidotexe @oscarissac2099 @currentfacination @pono-pura-vida

@blackbirdwitch22 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @ayayaeyato @btssaysstudy @unaxv

@otterlycanadian @lifeisbutadream444 @mostlymarvelgirl @ozwriterchick @m1cky-y-y

@ordelixx @jadeofspadesxp @generousmiraclebread @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @titasweetandsour 

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@sunnyhummingbee @onelonelybitch @angelichwv @hello-lisa1026 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 

@vickie5446 @portrait-ninja @trocaderoisyummy @walkwithfluffyangels @torntaltos

@dogtorjae

[svearehnn]

sunlight in burgundy | azriel x reader

Summary: Velaris is a place of healing, so no wonder you ended up at the House of Wind. However, you didn't expect to be welcomed by a gentle male and a leather-bound book.

a/n: i don't know what this is!!! just wanted to write and this came out. enjoy!!

Mahogany doors greeted your view, colossal and menacing, hiding anything and everything from your sight. With a deep breath and shaking hands you pushed the doors open. Sunlight greeted you, seeping in from rounded windows that seemed to take up the whole wall. They were open, their burgundy curtains fluttering in the wind. You took in the room with wide eyes, noting the shelves of books, the greenery hanging from the ceiling and winding around the furniture, the matching chairs that held a figure. A sharp breath entered your lungs as you noticed him, his hazel eyes already tracking you. 

“Hello,” he murmured, voice crackling like wood on a fire, his thin, leathery wings shifting ever so slightly as the word left him. You stood still like a deer in the eye of a hunter, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Of course, the first time you dared to leave your room since you were saved and you had to come across another soul.

“Um,” you stuttered, voice stuck within your throat. “Hi.” His lips curved up in a slight smile, thumb marking his page as he shut the book he was reading.

“How are you?” You took a miniscule step backward, your gaze never leaving his form, hackles on high alert. He wasn’t a threat, you knew that, yet your body reacted otherwise.

“Um,” fell from your lips once again. You blinked slowly, eyes darting down to the book in his hand before landing back upon his face. He followed your line of sight with a quirked brow and a gentle expression as he shifted in his seat, bringing his book up from his lap.

“Were you looking for one of these?” You nodded and swallowed the lump that had settled in your throat before taking a tentative step forward, despite your body screaming at you to run away. He became molasses as he stood, his movements smooth and still in an attempt not to spook you.

“What kind of book are you looking for?” One glance over your shoulder at the doors led you to the knowledge that they had shut behind you and that it would not be a quick escape, but for some reason, your frosted heart was starting to warm. You did want a book, after all. Maybe taking his advice wouldn’t be so bad.

“I just want a, uh, a book.” Your voice came out weaker than expected, a wince taking over your body at the softness you were displaying in front of this winged stranger. He didn’t comment on it, though. Rather, he nodded, and the shadows that seemed to surround him moved. A gasp fell from your lips without consequence, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you watched them disappear down the aisles of books. When you glanced back at him, he was still watching; observing you, looking for something, but you didn’t know what. 

“I control them.” He spoke, jolting you out of your bewilderment. “I am a Shadowsinger.” You hummed, no words slithered up your throat, just awe. You had never met a Shadowsinger before. To be fair, you had actually never met a winged fae before. There were a lot of firsts happening for you in this moment.

“W-what do they do?” You whispered after a beat, catching the shadows in the corner of your eye as they came back to their master with something in hand. He smiled softly, just a tilt of his lips as you’ve seen before, and he took the item from his shadows’ cool grasp.

“They tell me things. Intel, mostly. They also help with moments like this. Here.” He held out the item, and now with the sun shining down on his glove-clad hand, you could tell that he was holding a leather-bound book. “It’s one of my favorites.” You nodded, eyes flitting between him and his outstretched hand. 

There was still a decent amount of distance between the two of you–distance that you were afraid to make disappear. However, if you wanted that book and the safety of your room back, you would have to move forward. You took a step toward him, and then one more, heart rabbiting in your chest as you extended unfounded trust to this unknown male. He waited patiently, head bowed, but his eyes never left your face, as if he was physically unable to look away. With a quivering hand you reached out and swiftly snatched the book from his outstretched hand and cradled it to your chest. His eyes twinkled as he let his arm fall limply down by his side.

“Thank you.” You murmured, gaze downcast, picking apart the threads in the ornate carpet that adorned the rustic wooden flooring.

“You’re welcome.” He responded, his voice warm and comforting, drawing you back in. With your line of sight connected once again, his mouth opened and he uttered his name. “I’m Azriel. And you are?” 

As you took a step back, your name fell from your lips on an exhale, fingers tightening on the spine of the book almost painfully. With a nod of your head you turned and beelined it for the doors, opening one just a crack so you could slip through. The sunlight and the breeze of Velaris faded away as you hurried back to your room to begin reading your new find, however, the mysterious male seemed to occupy your mind more than the book that he had handed to you. Maybe that chance encounter was not chance at all, but rather fate that bubbled deep within the Cauldron alongside a whisper of your names.

[twirlyleafs]

“Reckless.”

Charles Leclerc x driver! Reader

TW: mention of death, fighting

~~~~

“What the hell was that?”

Charles’ angry voice cut through the hum of your garage like a whip, startling you enough to make you spin around to face him. You hadn’t expected him to be here this fast, you’d barely gotten out of the car, but then again maybe you should have. You knew he’d be angry considering the intense qualifying session where you’d wrung every last bit out of your car—and yourself. In those final two laps, you’d driven with reckless precision, pressing Alonso so hard in the corners that he’d had to back off to not risk contact. It wasn’t exactly clean racing, but it had earned you a spot on the second row. Fourth on the grid, your best start all season. The best you would probably be able to get out of your car. But as satisfying as it was, you knew that Charles would have something to say about it.

“Keep your voice down, Charles.” You muttered while unzipping the top half of your suit, hoping you could brush this off before it turned into a scene. Charles wasn’t having it. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him, jaw clenched, his hands slicing through the air as he spoke, disbelief radiating off him.

“Keep my voice—are you serious? What’s your problem? That overtake was reckless. Fernando was barely an inch away from accidentally sending you flying into the wall!”

“Calm down.” You shot him a look as you brushed past him, hoping he’d drop it if you just kept walking. But Charles scoffed, immediately following you, his tone hard and unforgiving.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I was right behind you! I saw the way you went in—God, you’re just lucky it was Alonso and not one of the rookies. That could’ve been a disaster.” Charles was relentless, his words chasing you all the way to your driver’s room. Your fists were clenched, nails digging into your palms as you worked to keep your own frustration under control. You knew his worry came from a place of love, but right now, it felt like he was questioning you as a driver, as if he didn’t trust you to know what you were doing. And that stung more than you cared to admit. Once the door shut behind you both, his words softened, though they still held an edge. “What were you thinking out there?”

You let out a heavy breath, finally turning to meet his gaze. “I was thinking about getting a decent starting position. I wanted-“

“You don’t risk everything for a good position!” he interrupted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Have you talked to Fernando? He’s probably fuming! If that had been me in his shoes, I would’ve lost it—”

“Good thing it wasn’t you, then.” You snapped, turning your back on him as you began unzipping the rest of your suit. It felt safer to face the wall, where he couldn’t see the raw mix of emotions that tightened your throat and threatened to spill over. “You don’t get it, Charles. You have a team, a car, a contract. You have a future. A name. I’m fighting for scraps, like every shot is the last one I’ll get.”

He fell silent and for a moment you thought he might back down, let you have this small victory. But his voice cut through the quiet, low and sharp. “Maybe I don’t get it. But I do get that you’re pushing yourself too far. And one day it won’t just be a scare. You’ll get hurt.”

“Yeah, well, I can handle myself.” You retorted as you turned to face him, your gaze defiant. “I knew what I was doing with Alonso. I wouldn’t have tried it with one of the rookies, I knew they couldn’t handle that.”

“Can you?” His eyes held a look you rarely saw, a mixture of frustration, fear, and maybe even doubt. “Can you handle it, Y/N? Because from where I’m standing, that looked less like confidence and more like…like desperation.” His words hit you like a slap, hurting more than you wanted to admit. Was it desperation? Maybe there was some truth in that, but you weren’t about to let him see you flinch. Not when he didn’t understand what it was like to constantly have to prove yourself, to feel every race could be your last if you didn’t show results.

“Are you calling me a bad driver Charles?” You asked, the challenge clear in your tone. He ran a hand over his face, sighing in exasperation.

“I’m calling you reckless. Stupid, even. You could be amazing, I know you’re amazing, but you keep pulling moves like this and I’m just scared it’s going to end in disaster.”

You swallowed, ignoring the sting of his words. “I can’t afford to play it safe, Charles. You wouldn’t get it, you don’t have to get it. You’re in a car that could win a championship. I’m just trying to prove I belong here.” For a moment, he looked as if he was about to argue, his eyes narrowing with the usual stubbornness you knew too well. But instead, he just shook his head, stepping back, disappointment flickering in his gaze. He lingered for a moment, his gaze softened, as if he wanted to reach out but held himself back. Then he turned, leaving the room as quickly as he’d entered, his words hanging in the air, heavy and unshakable. You stood alone, the silence pressing down on you, and no matter how much you wanted to brush it off his words kept echoing in your mind.

The hours dragged on, the buzz of qualifying still lingering as you were pulled from one interview to the next. You smiled for the cameras, deflected the sharpest questions, and managed to shrug off any mention of that heated moment with Alonso. But under the surface, your mind churned with the memory of your earlier fight with Charles. His words still echoed in your head, gnawing at you in a way you couldn’t shake. Reckless. Desperate. You’d been called a lot of things, but hearing it from him hurt like hell. It was late when you finally reached the hotel, the quiet of the lobby a stark contrast to the noisy paddock. The tension in your shoulders was nearly unbearable as you made your way up to your room, the thought of sleep the only thing keeping you moving forward. When you unlocked the door and stepped inside Charles was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze flicking up from his phone when you entered. He looked worn, the earlier fire in his eyes now replaced with something gentler, but equally intense. You felt your heart skip, torn between relief and irritation as the weight of your argument settled heavily in the air between you.

“Hey,” he said quietly, watching you as you set down your things.

“Hey.” You shrugged off your jacket, avoiding his gaze, the room feeling too small, too charged. Silence hung thickly for a moment before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” he began, a slight hesitance in his voice. “For showing up like that. I shouldn’t have come into your garage and… yelled at you. That was out of line.”

You nodded, acknowledging his apology but not yet ready to let go of the frustration simmering beneath your skin. Slowly making your way across the room you stopped by the dresser to remove your jewelry, plopping your watch and bracelet down on the cold surface before turning around to look at him again. “You still think I’m reckless? Stupid?” Your voice was calm, even as your heart pounded in your chest. Charles looked down, rubbing his hands together as he seemed to weigh his words.

“Yes. I do. I think you’re incredible out there, but sometimes…” He paused, looking up at you, his eyes soft yet resolute. “Sometimes it scares me. Seeing you push so hard, knowing one wrong move could just, you know, just end everything.”

You sighed, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the dresser. “Charles, I’m fighting for my career. Every weekend, every race—it’s not just about points or a title chance. It’s about proving that I belong here, that I’m not just some driver filling space at the back of the grid.” You hesitated, struggling to put into words what you’d felt for so long. “I don’t have the luxury of playing it safe.”

“And you think I don’t get that?” His voice rose, a hint of frustration slipping back in. “I know what it’s like to fight, to have to prove myself. You think Ferrari didn’t make me feel like I had to earn my place every damn time I got in that car?”

You scoffed, feeling a flicker of bitterness as you met his gaze. “It’s different, Charles. You still always had the team behind you. A car that can get you to the podium on strategy alone. I don’t have that. I have to be better. I have to take risks.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t fight.” His voice was softer now. “But not at the cost of your safety. There’s a difference between fighting and driving like there’s nothing left to lose.”

You felt a flash of anger, his words hitting a raw nerve. “Maybe I don’t see a difference because I don’t have anything to lose, Charles. I’m already at the back. Already being picked apart by the media trying to prove women don’t belong here. That I don’t belong here. A good result like this might be the only thing keeping me on the grid next season.” Your voice wavered as you continued, the weight of your own words settling heavy on your chest. “Maybe I can’t afford to think about what I have to lose.” At that Charles expression softened, his eyes searching your face.

“And what about me? What if I lose you? Maybe you don’t see it that way, but to me you are the most important thing in this equation.” His words struck you like a blow and for the first time you felt the edges of your anger soften, giving way to something deeper and more vulnerable. You let out a breath, your gaze dropping to the floor as the truth of it all began to settle between you. You swallowed, feeling the prick of tears in your eyes but refusing to let them fall.

“You have to let me fight. Even if it scares you. Because I can’t be the driver I need to be if I’m holding back just to make everyone else feel safe.” Even with your eyes trained on the floor you noted Charles getting up, moving across the room towards you. The ache in your chest reached its peak when his hands carefully found your arms, slowly stroking down them until he could grip your hands in his. He sighed, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“I don’t want you to hold back. I’d never ask that of you, I just-“ he paused and you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I just want you to be careful. To remember that you can get to where you wanna be without dying on the way. Baby I want you to have everything, I think you deserve everything and I’m here for you, as long as you don’t disappear on me.” The last of your frustration melted away as you let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. The second Charles noticed you moving closer he dropped your hands, wrapping his arms around you instead. Tucking your head against the crook of his neck you let out a deep sigh, nodding slowly.

“I get it. I get what you’re saying. It’s just hard to think like that when I’m out there, seeing my chances slip away.”

“I know.”

“But I’ll try.” You whispered, the words more of a promise to yourself than to him. “I’ll try to be careful. But I need you to understand that sometimes, this is just how it has to be. It’s the only way I know.” You felt Charles nod, his lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses against the top of your head. You shuffled closer, letting your arms wrap around his torso as his tightened around your frame, grounding you in the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. “You won’t lose me.” You murmured against his shoulder, the words both a promise and a hope. Charles held you close, his lips pressing gently to your temple as you both stood in the quiet of the room, letting the tension and hurt melt away. And for a while, neither of you said anything more, content just to hold each other, finding a fragile peace in the shared silence. Tomorrow, you’d be back on the track, fighting just as hard. But tonight, you were simply here, together.

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P46 | he's going to pay

You stared at the city mortuary. Gangnam in the daytime is poppy and bright, lined with riches and luxury. Gangnam at night, however, was when the devils came out to play. Gangnam nightlife is erratic and explosive, deadly and fraught with danger , the morgue was never empty because of it. Fatal overdose, beaten to death, unknown corpses, and mangled bodies. You were still desensitised to it, to your misery.

The fact that you could look at it head on without getting nauseous was a testament that you were never really meant for a life beyond Yoonsu, right?

“Kid. It’s been a while. You promised to stop smoking, remember?” Detective Do’s—Kyungsoo—voice reached your ears, making you lower your cigarette.

“I’m just going through some shit right now.” You had kept that promise, but with Yoonsu back into your life and your loved ones moving on without you, you couldn’t resist it.

Kyungsoo’s partner, Detective Lee Taeyong, tilted his head at your language.

Kyungsoo let out a huff at you, a ghost of a smile hanging on the corner of his lips. To him, you haven’t changed at all. Still rough around the edges, the same girl he had met in that godforsaken stripper joint years ago. Your gaunt face had always haunted him, in a way it’s slightly disappointing you’re still so…jaded.

“This is Detective Lee Taeyong, he’s been my partner for a year now. Still a rookie.” As if on cue, Taeyong stretched out his hand, and you shook it halfheartedly.

“Let’s get inside. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Kyungsoo gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you nodded rather stiffly.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

“That’s him. It’s Cha Yoonsu.”

Maybe you got too arrogant. Maybe you weren’t so desensitised anymore. That would explain the bile rising in your throat at the sight of this impostor, innocent, who’s wearing Yoonsu’s face. Your chest rose up and down rather violently, making it clear you were in distress. Kyungsoo didn’t have the chance to get a grip on you before you suddenly broke out of the lab, running all the way to the front desk and almost exiting the building altogether before Kyungsoo caught up to you.

He barked out for Taeyong to buy a bottle of water from the vending machine, guiding you to sit on the waiting chairs. He knew you preferred somewhere with more privacy, but considering the only other people at the front desk area was the receptionist, it was adequate enough. When Taeyong came back with the water, he was decent enough to offer you a piece of tissue. You took it to wipe away the few stray tears that escaped your eyes.

Kyungsoo who was sitting beside you—his knees digging into your thighs—kept his hand on your shoulder constantly.

“I thought you’d laugh and cuss at the corpse, but I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought. He’s dead now kid, he won’t hurt you anymore.”

No, if you were still who you were as a teenager, you’d do just that. If it had been the you from just a few weeks ago, Jaehyun your brother again, Mark in your close proximity after so long, you’d break down in tears—you wouldn’t have gotten so nauseous. It was because you were aware that the corpse lying on that slab wasn’t Yoonsu. He was just another one of Yoonsu’s many victims, and you can’t help but think it was you that got that poor innocent man lying on that slab, wearing the face of a monster.

This was your fault. All your fault.

But the worst thing was, you’re about to move in with Yoonsu in some podunk apartment not long after this, and leave behind the people that you yearned for.

Why did Yoonsu have to come back?

No, why was Yoonsu even borned in the first place?

Why did he have to make your life a misery? Why did he have to push you to isolate yourself from your loved ones?

You turned your head to the clear glass doors of the building, seeing Yoonsu drinking a cup of coffee from across the street, a hat covering most of his face.

You’ve had it. He’s going to pay.

You snapped your head back to the floor, focusing on gathering yourself and calming down. When you were stable enough, you stood up, Kyungsoo following suit. He looked at you weirdly, finding your emotionless face a little off putting. You didn’t look even remotely relieved with Yoonsu dead. Something was off with you, but as you turned to face him and asked if you were allowed to leave, he let you go anyway. The look behind your eyes was full of rage for some reason, and he noted you actually looked like you were gearing up for something. He watched as you walked away, a lingering feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.

Something was wrong with you, but what exactly was it?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yuno would always make sure not to be at home every time you were, and for the first time in a while, you couldn’t feel so terrible about it anymore, even though he’s probably avoiding you for that fight you had two weeks ago. It was just three days after the concert, after you ditched him and your dad.

“Why? Why am I not as important as he is? Please, I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most, Y/N, but—but I’m here now, as your brother again, so that has to mean something to you. Do you have to put that guy over me? Over Geonwoo and Woojin? When they’ve sacrificed so much for you?” Yuno never liked to raise his voice or yell, as he would seldom get so worked up enough to do so anyway.

But he can’t help it. He still remembered how it felt like when he watched you walk away from the bleachers when he was just about to perform the songs that were of his own creation. Not just covers of some other artists’ songs that he liked, but his own songs. He knew that you knew just how much that concert meant for him, so why?

Why did you have to leave and go to Junyoung? Couldn’t you have put it off just for that night and watched your brother perform and live out his lifelong dream?

“Here we are again as family, but you had to throw it all away for that guy!” He yelled out at the top of his lungs, making you wince.

“...just because you’re sorry for not being there for me doesn’t change the fact you weren’t there for me, Yuno. Seriously, what would you know about what I went through back then?” You scoffed by the end. 

Yuno began to place his palms on the kitchen area’s island, head dropped down as he took in deep breaths.

“I don’t know anything, Y/N, because I’m trying to let yourself open up to me in your own pace—”

“It’s been so fucking exhausting forcing myself to open up to you guys. It’s not like that when I’m with Junyoung, don’t you get it? Every time one of you act this way, you’d just make me regret coming clean about my past to you in the first place. God, now you’re making me wish you’d go back to treating me like a stranger again.”

—and that’s why he doesn’t want to be around you anymore. Wasn’t even phased when you said you were going to move in with your precious Junyoung. Ever since the morgue visit, every time you replayed that argument you had with Yuno, your promise to get back at Yoonsu would be whispered back to you with more conviction. You were going to make him pay, doesn’t matter the cost.

As you taped the last box of the stuff you're bringing along for the moving, that’s when you noticed Yuno had left his old phone on the living area’s coffee table. He brought a new sim card along with the new phone he brought just a few days ago, so this old phone probably had his old sim card. You took it and checked—yes, it was still inside, and intact, and functional. With Yuno’s old phone in your hand, you stared at it for a long while, until you made a silent apology to Yuno before pocketing it. You knew he probably wanted to sell it, considering he already did a factory reset on it, but you needed it more.

You could think of a good use for it.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : Y/N IN HER REVENGE ERA YUPPPPP

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

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[tayraedoll]

My Compliments to the Chef

The smutty and soft finale of the series. MDNI 18+ only

Part 1

Part 2

TW: Smut, P in V intercourse, fingering, oral-female receiving with mentions of male receiving, sensory deprivation, self-consciousness, reader is uncomfortable in her own skin, body scars, body worship, hurt/comfort, fluff

Alastor advanced on you slowly, the famished look never leaving his eyes, he reminded you of a cat that finally cornered the mouse it was hunting. For every one of his steps forward you had to take two back to keep the distance between you even. You eventually ran out of floorspace when the backs of your knees hit his bed, with you effectively trapped the demon was quick to close the distance completely.

He grabbed you by your jaw, holding your face up so he could press his lips to yours again. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him. His free hand wrapped around your waist in a vice grip like he was afraid you'd run away if he let you go. He released your lips with a 'pop' to trail his lips down the your exposed throat, nipping the skin to leave little love marks. When the hand on your waist started to dip under your shirt you violently jumped to the side to put space between you once more.

For a moment Alastor stood stock still, the position making it look like he was holding an invisible person. He blinked a couple of times before straightening up and looking at you quizzically, wondering if he had read you wrong. His head cocked to the side, carefully scrutinizing your body language.

Your heart hammered away in your chest, you bit the inside of your lip as you tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself. Being with Alastor in this way was thrilling, but even the excitement of the moment wasn't enough to quell the insecurities that were screaming at you.

When you finally composed yourself you gave him an apologetic look, "I am so sorry. I-It's just that...", you trailed of as you looked down, trying to find the right words to explain yourself.

Long fingers hooked under your chin again to make you look up at his face, "My Dear, my sincerest apologies if I overstepped-"

"No! No, it's not that. Um.. it's my scars. They don't end at at my arms, they are kind of all over. I...I'm not exactly pretty to look at", your voice trailed off, becoming a whisper at the end. You looked over at the fireplace to avoid his eyes staring down at you as tears welled up in your own.

Alastor let go of you and backed away. You had to suppress a sob; here it was, the rejection you were so terrified of.

The rustle of fabric caught your attention, Alastor was laying his coat across the his bed; he then stared right at you as he pulled at his bow tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Nimble fingers slowly started to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Al...what are you doing?", you asked completely bewildered. Part of you wanted to look away- the intense look in his eyes, how his chest fluff slowly came into view in such a sensual manner- it was almost too much, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him.

After releasing the final button of his shirt, Alastor painstakingly slowly pushed it off his shoulders and revealed his bare torso to you. You gasped, a hand flying up to your mouth as you took the sight of him in. His black arms and tawny body were littered in scars; unlike yours, his scars disfigured the skin where it ripped apart and sewn itself back together. One long gash made its way from his right hip to left shoulder- the wound Adam gave him in the battle at the hotel. Your feet carried you over to him before you were conscious of the movement, hand raised in front of you as it hovered above his chest seeking permission to touch.

His hand grasped yours before you could make contact, vulnerability flashed briefly across his face before it hardened into a more determined expression. He slowly brought your hand to the space where his heart was enclosed in his sternum, resting your palm on the mended skin of the axe wound. "We all have our insecurities Dear, not a single one of us is immune to the judgements our minds cast upon us." His eyes stared intently into yours, watching as tears formed and slowly fell down your cheeks. This wound must have been excruciating; it looked so large and deep, it was a miracle he survived it.

You finally ripped your eyes from the scar to look back up at him, his expression was a mixture of uncertainty, desperation, and primal hunger. A new determination settled in your mind, your dried your tears with your hand that was not touching him and stepped fully into his space leaving just an inch between you two. Your fingers ghosted over his skin, feather-light caresses applied to each of the scars you could see. Some were raised and rough to the touch, while others were smooth and shiny; the muscles underneath would twitch with each new blemish you stroked.

One finger remained on his body as you lazily walked around him to his back. You were met with the same myriad of cicatrices forming constellations across his dorsum. You felt braver without his eyes being able to stare you down from here, after each stroke of your finger you planted a chaste kiss to the marking.

You heard the gasp he made the first time you pressed your lips to his body, a small smile gracing your face at being able to elicit such a response from The Radio Demon with your gentle affections. After revering every scar across his being you finally came back to face him, your heart skipping a beat when he immediately close his arms around you and pulling you into a needy kiss.

Alastor's fingers grabbed your hips and he slowly spun you around so your back was to him. Opening your eyes, you were met with a mirror that had magically appeared out of nowhere. You met Alastor's eyes in the reflection as he leaned in to whisper in your ear "Allow me to show you just how transcendent you truly are."

He snapped his fingers, but your vision didn't go black as you expected it would. Instead, you were ushered into a world of total silence. Your wide eyes locked onto crimson orbs as his red claws slowly lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes never left yours even as he unclasped your bra. You struggled to resist the urge to cover your breasts, swallowing hard as every imperfection was revealed to the mirror.

His hand collected yours and raised it to his lips, tender kisses were pressed to your knuckles before he flipped your hand over to gently nip at the pulse point of your wrist. A gasp ripped out of your throat at the sensation, your eyes flying shut. His lips stilled completely, all sensation coming to an abrupt halt. You peaked an eye open, Alastor was watching you with a patient yet disapproving gaze. Once your eyes met his he slid his lips up your forearm, nipping and kissing along the borders of your reddened skin. Anytime you averted your gaze from his ministrations he would completely stop until your eyes found his again.

When he finished pecking and nipping your arm he moved across your shoulders, meeting your neck where he used his cheek to push your head to the side to grant him access. By now heat was pooling in your belly; your thighs rubbed together as subtly as you could as your abdomen clenched with every graze of his teeth on your skin. By the time he reached your other wrist you were certain your panties were ruined.

Looking in the mirror now you could barely recognize yourself; your lips parted in an "O" as soft whimpers and pants left your throat, eyes glazed over and half-lidded. You had never seen yourself look so fucked out and he hadn't even touched you in a sexual way yet.

His fingers ran down your ribs and across your abdomen, meeting right below your navel to unbutton your jeans. He pulled both your pants and panties down your legs slowly until you could step out of them. Your cheeks heated up as you stood naked in front of the mirror, the predatory eyes of the demon behind you raked over your form greedily.

One of his hands came around you again, a curious finger dipping into your folds. Your body jolted, back arching and hips pushing into his touch. You let out a mewl you could not hear as your head flew back and hit the demon's chest, your eyes closing on instinct. Just like before, Alastor's movements stilled as soon as your eyes left the mirror.

His other hand crept up the back of your head, tangling into your hair and forcing your head back up but you kept your eyes closed. Displeased, Alastor leaned forward and bit your ear just hard enough for it to sting. It elicited his desired affect as your eyes flew open once again. He subtly shook his head at you as his hand tightened in your hair- you would not be turning away from the mirror again. Just as you resigned to your fate the claw in your folds reminded you of its presence as it circled around your clit.

You bit your lip, using all your willpower to keep your attention on yourself in the mirror. The claw circled your bundle of nerves faster and faster, your wines silent to your own ears as your hips started to buck into his hand. Your eyes were now glued to the way his dexterous digits played with your nub.

A finger slipped inside of you quickly followed by a second, his thumb still applying delicious pressure to your clit. His pace picked up, fingers curling inside you to hit that spongy spot that nearly had your knees buckling under you. In the mirror you could see that your face was flushed, beads of sweat broke out across your forehead, your chest heaved with every breath. Your vision went white as you clamped down on his fingers, lips parted in a scream as Alastor watched you unravel at his hands.

A low chuckle alerted you that your hearing had been restored. When your vision re-focused the mirror was gone and you were laying in bed with Alastor hovering over you. You took the chance to allow your eyes to roam over his body- lean muscle, chiseled abdomen, a deep v-line at his hips, and a fucking monster of a cock ready to impale you. Your eyes blew wide open as he lowered himself down on you to leave love nips down the column of your throat; his member sliding through your folds and collecting your slick.

"Al-Alastor," your body trembled, "I haven't slept with anyone since I died and there is no way I will fit all of you inside me!"

"Hmm," Alastor hummed completely unconcerned, "you can, and you will My Dear." His arms reached down and hooked your knees with the crook his of elbows, effectively spreading you wide open for him and leaving no way for you to push him away from your core as he slowly sunk into you inch by inch.

You choked as the intrusion stole the air from your lungs, your nails digging into his shoulders as you instinctively tried to push him back to no avail. It stung slightly as your walls struggled to accommodate him, the full feeling overwhelming at first. He stilled once he was buried to the hilt, giving you time to get accustomed to the sensation. Your breath came in short gasps as your legs shook vigourously in his hold; it felt like he was buried in your guts, his tip pushed flush against your cervix. "Relax Mon Cher, I won't push you beyond what you can take," he peppered chaste kisses across your cheekbones as your breathing evened out, the full feeling becoming more pleasant than intrusive.

Once your walls relaxed around him the buck started to slowly rock his hips in shallow thrusts. Pain quickly gave way to pleasure and a lewd moan fell from your lips as your walls fluttered, his pelvis grinding into your nub perfectly with each thrust.

"That's it Dear, such a good girl- taking me so well. See? I knew you were an expert at handling meat", Alastor growled at you, biting down on your neck just below your ear. You whimpered, his cock catching your entrance with every thrust forward and bullying that spongy spot. His arms lifted your legs higher towards your chest, you couldn't be spread open any further. Your Overlord lover licked the bruise he gave you, it would be impossible for you to hide without a scarf.

The coil in your core tightened, your legs quivering uncontrollably as your toes curled. Your nails raked down his back desperate to ground yourself amongst the pleasure; you idly wondered if you could leave scars of your own along his spine.

His pace turned absolutely bruising as he chased your collective releases. "Tu es parfait, si délicieux, mon petit chef."

His cockhead rammed into your cervix like he was trying to bust through it. A scream of intense pleasure ripped out your throat as the coil finally snapped, sending a flood of arousal out of your cunt. Alastor watched your face contort with your orgasm and committed the stunning sight to his memory. His own release surged into your fluttering cunt with a groan, his forehead falling onto yours, your breaths mixing together as you both basked in post-coital bliss.

"La mesure de l'amour, c'est d'aimer sans mesure", he whispered before giving you one more deep and sensual kiss.

"You know I don't speak French right? I have no idea what you've been saying", you giggled when he pulled away.

"Hmm, I will teach you some day My Dear. For now, let's just enjoy this moment shall we?", he rolled over and draped you across his chest. You snuggled into his chest fluff, inhaling the smell of sex and Alastor's musky scent as you drifted off. Right before you fell into unconsciousness you heard "Je t'aime".

You smiled- you knew that one, "I love you too."

Alastor awakened with a start-something was wrong. He reached out for you only for the space you had occupied to be vacant and cold. He shot up, looking around the room but saw no sign of you. The clock on the wall read 4:30 AM, Alastor got out of bed to search for you- had you gone back to your own room? If so, why?

He snapped his fingers to quickly dress himself, only for his chest to remain bare. His shirt was not with his other clothes...your clothes were still littered across his floor however. Alastor hummed at this clue, he'd either find you in his shirt or you'd be roaming the hotel naked.

He felt secure enough to shadow travel without covering his upper body, it was so early in the morning no one would be roaming the halls at this time except the two of you. He checked your room first but quickly moved on when he found no sign you'd been there for hours- probably since you woke up the previous morning.

The next most obvious room to investigate was the kitchen. The demon cursed himself for not preparing his room for your activities, surely you woke up thirsty and had to trudge all the way to the kitchen for water if you didn't wake him up. He would correct that egregious oversight on his part promptly.

The demon stopped dead in his tracks as he manifested at the kitchen door. The radio was playing a modern "pop" song he was unfamiliar with and your sweet voice was singing along to it. Slowly, he approached the kitchen and leaned a shoulder against the door frame as he took in the scene before him.

You were practically dancing around the kitchen in nothing but his shirt (which comically came down to your knees), singing your heart out to a song about two lovers whose passion burned so intensely it was like fire on fire. You flitted between the hot stove and the various spices on the counter, so absorbed in your task you hadn't noticed the 7-foot-tall deer demon in the doorway.

Alastor watched you with a soft smile on his face, his heart swelling in his chest. He recognized the spices you had out- all the staples of a traditional cajun seasoning. When you added them to your dish he noticed that you never measured any of them, letting your sense of smell guide the spice profile of the food. A bottle of his favorite bourbon also sat on the counter, no doubt if he checked the hotel bar he'd find that Husk was missing that bottle of whiskey.

You mixed the alcohol into a pan, causing a small flame to rise that you expertly handled while spinning the bottle in your free hand like he would his cane. Alastor chuckled at your theatrics, you hadn't noticed him yet so he knew you were showing off for yourself. Soon enough, the mouth-watering aroma of cayenne, garlic, and pork wafted into the air. The Overlord's heart soared when you brought the dish together- cajun pork chops with a bourbon glaze and a vegetable medley of brussel sprouts, zucchini, and peppers. He was approaching you before was aware he was moving.

You startled at his sudden appearance, hand clutching the buttons at your chest, "Sweet Satan Al, please give me some kind of warning before you just waltz on in like that!"

"Apologies My Dear, I did not mean to scare you. However, I am curious, what brings you to the kitchen at this hour?", he stood just inches from you, heart about to beat out of his chest if his suspicions proved to be correct.

"Well-uhh," your face turned beet red and you looked down at the food bashfully, "I guess I was just feeling inspired and couldn't get this creation out of my head. So I needed to find out if I could pull it off."

"The pork chops, that's your signature dish is it not?"

You nodded your head, shyly looking back up at him, "I added a twist to it though."

He reached a hand out to cup your cheek, moving so his chest pressed to yours, "You changed your signature dish...for me? You fused our cooking together." It was not a question, the declaration sat there on a plate in front of him.

"Yes", your answering whisper was just barely audible but it was all the confirmation he needed. You squealed when his hands hooked around your thighs and sat you down on the countertop, his shirt riding up your thighs. He immediately pressed his lips to yours and demanded entry into your mouth with his tongue.

After several minutes of making out like lovesick teenagers, Alastor pulled away to inspect the plate, "It would be a shame to let this all go to waste."

He ran a claw through the glaze, but instead of bringing it to his mouth as you expected he painted it over your neck. Before you had the chance to object to having the sticky sauce on your skin he licked a wide stripe up your throat, cleaning it of all the dressing. He had to admit you did a phenomenal job of balancing the bitter bourbon with sweet brown sugar...and it complimented the taste of your skin incredibly well.

You moaned as you threw your head back, elongating your throat for him. His hands gripped onto each side of your (his) shirt and tore it apart sending buttons flying in every direction. "Alastor! Someone can come in and catch us!", you shrieked as you scrambled to cover yourself again.

Alastor was having none of it and promptly caught your wrists and pinned them against the cabinets above you. "Poppycock Darling, no one will be awake for hours yet. Now, lets enjoy this meal you so artfully crafted shall we?"

He used the glaze to paint more trails across your body- starting at your throat and going down through the valley between your breasts, down your navel, and multiple strokes on your inner thighs. "My, my Mon Cher. You are the most delectable meal I have ever laid eyes on. Care if I have a little nibble?" He didn't wait for your answer as he dove down, licking up every drop of sauce and leaving bites along the way. You bit down on your hand to stop from screaming out a moan when he bit down on your breast just hard enough to leave teeth marks.

He pushed your thighs apart to make room for himself as he settled on his knees before you. His tongue ran up each thigh as slowly as he could restrain himself to. "Your glaze was perfect my dear, but I am looking forward to tasting a different coulis from you."

He pressed the flat of his tongue to your thigh and licked all the way up to your core. The second his tongue made contact with your folds you jolted, crying out in sheer ecstasy as your legs clamped shut on his head. He tutted at you disapprovingly and summoned his shadows to hold your knees as far apart as they'd go. Satisfied with your position, he dove back in, leaving kitten licks on your clit before sucking on it harshly.

You fought to hold in a high-pitched keen, fisting one hand in his hair and using the other to hold one the top cabinets for balance. Alastor’s hands locked around your hips in a bruising grip and slid you forward so your ass was just barely on the counter anymore, the only reason you were still precariously perched there was his tight hold and his shadows holding your legs.

Alastor let go of your clit to plunge his tongue deep into your drenched hole. One hand let go of your hip to begin making tight circles around your nub as his tongue searched for that special spot that made your vision spotty. His efforts were rewarded when your body convulsed, back arching and pushing your pelvis into his face when he found it.

He didn't let up for a second, he doubled-down on his efforts- tongue bullying your spongy walls repeatedly while his thumb pressed harder and harder circles to your clit. The pressure built up quickly, tears forming in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your moans as to not wake anyone. You bit your bottom lip a little too harshly, a droplet of blood trailing down your chin.

The sight made Alastor go feral, with a guttural growl he removed his tongue from you pushed three fingers inside to take it's place, instantly setting a brutal pace. His mouth turned back to your pearl, sucking it harshly and using his upper fangs to pinch it ever so lightly.

The pleasure, the pain, the sheer ferocity sent you catapulting over the edge; you couldn't help but to let out a blood-curdling scream that a shadow quickly muffled by clamping over your mouth. Your walls squeezed his fingers like a vice, trapping him within you while his tongue soothed your bundle of nerves and helped you ride out your orgasm.

Once your body released his fingers, he brought his thumb up to capture the blood on your jaw. Keeping his eyes on yours, he made a lewd show of licking his fingers clean of your slick and blood.

"My compliments to the chef My Dear!", he chuckled to himself as you caught your breath. He gingerly set you back down on the floor, allowing you to use him for balance as your legs wobbled.

You took a look at the plate, only the glaze eaten,"Well, since you said this shouldn't go to waste I suppose I will finish it." You picked up the plate and a fork, wrapped Alastor's shirt back around yourself, and began trekking towards the staircase.

"And where do you think you are going Mon Cher?"

"Back to your room. I heard you call me an expert meat handler yesterday, figured I should show you just how well I can truly handle my meat", you made a show of pushing your fork into your mouth suggestively, giving him a wink before turning on your heal and taking off.

Alastor stood there dumbfounded for just a second before a smug smirk split his face. With a snap he melted into the shadows to chase after you; a paper fluttering to the countertop to let Charlie know that both chefs would be preoccupied for the day. All he planned to devour this day was you.

Thanks for reading! This was such as fun piece to write, I hope you enjoyed it!

Here is the song that reader was singing as she was cooking:

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