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robynlilyblack · 5 months ago

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Do you think I'm a monster?

Remus Lupin x fem! hufflepuff! werewolf! reader

Summary: After an eventful summer, Remus’ finds his girlfriend being distant, but it isn’t until the the next full moon he realises why

Warnings: swearing, mentions of eating, scars, greyback, violence, sex and nudity (non-sexual), kissing, established relationship, hurt/comfort

A/n: 4.1k words, I am back and taking requests, i haven’t written anything for over a year so things might be a little rusty, please bare with me as i get back into the groove of writing but I’m so happy to be back writing again, thank you so much for the request, enjoy ♡

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Remus’ leg bobbed impatiently, eyes darting to the entrance everytime someone entered hoping it was you yet he was only met with disappointment. His mood did lighten as he saw his friends enter, chuckling as he watched James walk into the table as he tried to woo Lily.

“You alright?” he asks trying not to smile to hard as James groans

“Eh it’s nothing” he cringes sitting opposite, Peter by his side, while Sirius plops himself down next to Remus “Did she laugh at least?” he ignores his pain and embarrassment, only thinking of the girl sitting little ways down from them now, giggling with Marlene and Alice

“Yeah Prongs, she laughed” he tells a little white lie, though he’s sure Lily probably did think it slightly adorable

“Where's your lovely lady?” Sirius asks, scanning the Hufflepuff table for you

Remus sighs “She hasn’t appeared yet” he knew you were probably catching up with your friends, they had both been away with their families travelling so you hadn’t seen them either…he’d never admit it but he was a tad jealous he wasn’t going to get to hug you first

“Oi” he’s pulled from his gloom by Sirius nudging him, pointing towards the door “Speak of the angel and there she shall appear” he grins, his point turning it’s a little wave at you and your friends

Remus lights up, heart warming at your shy smile and slight embarrassment when both Peter and James join in waving to you…in fact they couldn’t see but Marlene, Lily and Alice had all begun to wave as well. You grant them a small wave back as you head to find a seat, Amos joining you as he smiles at them, while Alex shoots a wink and a small salute, the former towards one particular marauder.

“Happy now?” James grins at his friend

Remus nods bringing his gaze back to you as Dumbledore starts his speech, he barely listens, doubting it’s any more interesting this year than it has been the last six. Instead he admires you, he’d missed you so much, more than he realised in fact, the boy couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze drifted across your features, while he noted your face did look a little hollow, his mind had other ideas, asking you if you had been eating properly could come later, but for now his eyes fixated on your lips as he daydreamed about kissing you, touching you, f…

“Ha…best behaviour for the youngins…” Sirius brings him back to reality, chuckling to himself “...that’ll be right?” turning his gaze to him, before he starts to grin “Moony missin’ her too eh?” he wiggles his eyebrows noting Remus’ blown pupils and guilty look

If he wasn’t already bright in the face Remus was scarlet now “Shut up” he grumbles trying to compose himself, face riddled with embarrassment but it softens as he realises your looking over

Hi, he mouths

Hi, you mouth back with a small smile before turning your attention to the front once more but somethings off, he can feel it

You felt awful, every bone in your body ached, and it didn’t help that your skirt's waistband was rubbing against last month's scar. You were grateful none were too visible, the biggest were along your waist and hips from the initial attack, though there was one other on your arm, it could easily be written off as a fall or cat scratch, the former being the one used likely use as it lined up with a real fall you had written to Remus about over summer.

Remus

You sighed as you glanced over at him, finding his attention had finally moved back to his friends, most likely plotting their first prank of the year. It was easy to pretend in your letters, thankfully he hadn’t come looking for you on the train but you knew you would have to talk to him eventually. Would he know? Would he be able to sense you were now like him? Would he see you as he saw himself? Would he think you a monster?

Am I a monster now?

“Hey…” you’re broken out of your gaze, a soft hand finding your shoulder, followed by your friend's kind smile “...are you alright?” Alex asks, knowing something is wrong, just not what

“You can tell us anything” Amos adds, smiling on your other side “You’ve been quiet” and he was right, you’d barely said two words to them since kings cross that morning

How do I tell them? you think eyes welling

“”Hey hey” Amos turns you around as you try to look away, making you face him “You don’t have to tell us…” he assures and you almost want to cry more, you had such wonderful friends “...but let us help you”

“Anything you need, sunshine” Alex’s smile grows into a smirk “We do hugs, skipping out on welcome feasts early, hexes…” that one makes you giggle causing the two boys faces to light up

“Think we could start with a group hug?” you look up at them, the welling tears dissipating as they waste no time wrapping you up in a warm embrace

“Love, wait up!”

You close your eyes, scrunching your face a little as you stop, trying to put on your best act as you turn back around to greet your boyfriend as he lightly jogs towards you

“Oh hi” you smile at him, playing dumb and pretending like you weren’t just trying to avoid him…again

Remus stops in front of you “I’ve been trying to catch you all day!” he laughs a little bit while you feel guilt swell in your stomach “Merlin I’ve missed you so much” he confesses right away

Dammit, you think, finding yourself folding as you stare up at those big brown eyes of his, it didn’t help that your new little wolfy self was acting up either

You’d noticed the heightened senses, your hearing was impeccable now, and you finally understood why Remus was so prone to irritation, you almost smacked poor Amos in potions earlier for stirring the cauldron a little too loudly. Turns out smell was no different either, Remus smelled absolutely divine, and your wolf earned for him.

“Bun?” he gently prods and your heart breaks…you weren’t his bunny anymore

The realisation causes you to crumble, almost knocking him over as you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest

He chuckles at that, oblivious to the turmoil inside “I’ll take that as you missed me too” he returns the hug, nose finding your hair

Merlin you smelled great, more so than normal, your pheromones always drove him nuts around the full moon but it was on overdrive now, so much so he finds himself gently shifting, unable to resist waiting to kiss you in a more private location as he brings one hand up to cup the back of your head, while he uses the other to guide your gaze back towards him, but as he moves in he notices the slight glisten in your eyes

“Is something wrong?” he asks, large hands finding your cheeks

You freeze, you never wanted to lie to Remus, you never thought yourself capable, and perhaps you aren’t not truely “I…I wish I could’ve spent the summer with you” it’s not a lie…because if you had, things would be just as they were and nothing would have to change

His face softens to a downturned smile, his eyes looking at you with such love “You’re too sweet to me” he brings you back into a warm embrace “I promise we will next year” he tells you, and you squeeze him tighter

You might not want me next year

The next few days went slowly for both of you, you knew Remus had figured out you were avoiding him on purpose. Never before had you been so distant, especially before a full moon. It hurt so much, every time you crossed paths you wanted nothing more than to run to him, hold him, kiss him anywhere he was hurting but you couldn’t. You knew how the full moons affected your boyfriend, in fact you could feel it yourself, that desire to be close to the one you love, if you did go to his dorm as you normally did he would see the scars, he would see the bite mark, he would know you weren’t his sweet little bunny anymore.

You fell back on your bed, eyes glancing over to the clock, you would need to leave soon if you were to get deep enough into the woods. Your eyes started to water, you didn’t want to go, this was only your second moon and it was already unbearable

You had never felt so alone…

Remus was worried, you never came by to see him, it was so unlike you. These past few days had been so strange to him, he knew something must have happened, he also knew you hadn’t spoken to your friends about it as they seemed just as confused as he did, but whatever it was he couldn’t fix right now

“That's us set up” Sirius pokes his head in averting his eyes from Remus’ unclothed figure “I’m sure she has a good reason moons”

Remus only nods, waiting until Sirius closes the door before reassuring himself “She does…” he brings his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them “...she loves us…” he gently rocks back and forth whispering “...she loves us”

Meanwhile Sirius makes it out of the willow, meeting James and Peter as they hide their bags for later “How is he?” Peter asks, looking forlorn as he notices his friend

“He’s putting on a brave face but…” Sirius shakes his head handing his and Remus’ bags to James “...he needs her” he puts simply

“I don’t understand why she didn’t come” James says, feeling genuinely confused as he reaches up to tuck away the last of the bags “Even when they’ve been in a fight she’s always shown up”

“Something must have happened” Peter looks to James “Maybe tomorrow we could go talk to her friends, surely they know” he suggests

James nods, hands finding his hips “Yeah…yeah that sounds good” he agrees, nodding a little more than was necessary in his worry “Sirius that a plan?” he and Peter look towards their friend only to find him looking somewhere between confused and concerned “Sirius?”

After a few more calls and one branch thrown at him Sirius finally responds “I…ugh…look” he can’t even form a sentence, doing a double take at his friends as he points towards the lining of the trees

James and Peter's eyes scan the area, widening with horror as they see you running towards the tree line. The trio look amongst themselves, their eyes doing the talking as they shift, they didn’t have much time to question why you were out here on tonight of all nights but they follow you into a small clearing, watching as you hang your bag on one of the branches, opening it up as you begin to take off your clothes.

Sirius makes a quiet grunt for only the boys to hear as they grasp you are fully stripping down causing them to all look at him instead of you as they give each other confused looks. However you never make it that far, it’s a scream that causes their heads to shoot back in your direction and they watch an all too familiar scene

You did have a good reason for not showing up tonight…and it shattered their hearts

They didn’t have much time to dwell. Sirius jumps into action first, attempting to distract you from clawing at yourself, while James slowly approaches behind with Peter sitting up on his back acting as a lookout for Remus as if you turned he surely couldn’t be far behind.

You seem a little startled at first before stalking towards Sirius, you seem to note he isn’t scared of you, the boys watch as you calm, your body no longer tense, nor sensing you are in danger and so you let them guide you warily through the woods. In all honesty the boys had no idea what they were doing, they figured if you could sense that Sirius wasn’t a threat then maybe you and Remus would recognise each other as such as well…hopefully

As they came towards the clearing they could hear Remus as he whined in pain but the boys had no time to react as you already bolted off. Startled, they try to catch up, but as they move past the tree line they realise you’ve already made your way to him, growling.

Shit

They’re eyes flick between one another, worried they had made the wrong choice until they watch Remus relax, the two of you sniffing around each other before you begin to lick his wounds and it dawns on them that you weren’t challenging him, you were berating him for hurting himself.

The rest of the moon went by smoothly, the best the boys had ever seen and it was all thanks to you. By the end Sirius and Peter had managed to herd you and Remus back into the willow while James headed back to get your bag

“I can’t believe it” Peter says in astonishment, sliding down the roots to sit at the entrance beside James “No wonder she’s been acting off”

James hums in agreement, fiddling with the strap of your bag “She doesn’t deserve this…neither of them do” he states, sadness washing over him “Man…this gonna break him when he wakes up, he loves her so much”

“He does…” the boys jump a little as Sirius reappears from the willow “I didn’t want to go in fully for y/n’s sake...but I’ve thrown the blanket in that general direction and well…it’s not like they haven’t seen it all before” he makes a face, chuckling softly with the other two as lowers himself to the ground to join them as they decide to try and get a little bit of sleep

At first you didn’t know where you were, eyes opening slowly to survey your surroundings, you had expected to wake up in a ditch somewhere but not…wait. Your eyes widen, jolting up with a slight hiss as you look around, you were in the shack but if you were in the shack then that meant…

“Hey…” you jump a little at his voice, slowly turning to find Remus sitting just behind you, posted up against the wall, one leg half bent with his arm wrapped around it “...how are you feeling? Any pain?” he asks, strain evident in his voice, he looks broken and it kills you

You can only shake your head, slowly bringing the blanket up to cover yourself, shivering a little from the cold draft “Rem…” you say so quietly you’re not even sure you’ve said anything at all

“You’re cold” he states, wincing a little as he moves over to you, body still aching from from his own transformation “I’m okay, don’t worry” he assures, knowing exactly what you were thinking “Here” he pulls off his jumper “Hands up sweetheart”

You do as you're told, allowing him to slip the jumper over your head. He was being so gentle with you, like you might shatter at a single touch, it shouldn’t have surprised you but it did, he must have seen the scars, he must see you differently now…he must…

“Do you think I’m a monster?” you whisper and his movements stop, eyes meeting yours in shock

He blinks at you a couple times before letting out a confused “What?”

Your eyes mist “Do you think I’m a monster?” you repeat, gaze never leaving his

“No” he shake his head firmly, hands finding yours “Never” he says almost harshly, stunned you would ever think such a thing

“Really?” you eyebrows lift, hope and relief in your voice

His eyes soften, confusion washing away as he finally sees it, and a bitter sense of deja vu falls over him. Almost a year ago to the day he sat in your position, looking up at you, asking if you fought him, a monster. He even remembers trying to convince you he was but you wouldn’t hear it, you refused to believe he was no matter what he said. In the end he stil didn’t believed it, but seeing you now, looking at you from the other position he realised just how stupid he had been, how much his own self hatred had made you scared to come to him, made you hate yourself the way he had all this time

“Really” he promises “Is…” he hesitates, because he’s almost certain he knows the answer “Is this why you've been avoiding me?” he asks, one hand slipping out of your own to softly cup your cheek

You lean into it, eyes fluttering as your own comes up to cup it “Yes” you confirm and he nods, looking in though “I’m so sorry…I…” he cuts you off

“Don’t you dare” he warns “You aren’t turning into me, I won’t allow it” both hands are cupping your face now “You haven’t changed, not to me, okay? You are still my girl, still my bu-” but you cut him off this time

“But I’m not I-” you try to argue but Remus isn’t having it

“Stop” he gently shakes your face to regain your attention “You know why I started to call you bunny?” you shake your head “Because whenever you get excited you would do this little bounce, you do it when you’re excited to see me, geeking out about a new book and not to mention when we…” he blushes, stopping himself

You feel heat rush to your cheeks “Remmyy!” you gently shove him as you bounce a little in faux annoyance, causing you both to let out little laughs

“There she is” he smiles at you, laughing more as you become self aware of your bounces, getting all shy before him “Nothing you could ever do would make me think you a monster. I’m so sorry bun, I never want you to talk about yourself the way I have, understood?”

You hum in agreement, nodding “...but that means you can’t be cruel to yourself either” you challenge him, holding your pinky up at him as a small smile gracing your face as you do

Remus clicks his tongue, of course you would use this as a way to help him love himself as well “Fine” he promises, taking your pinky “…now come ‘ere” he moves back to sit against the wall once more, patting his lap as he hithers for you to join him while you chew on your lip a little, shyly accepting the offer and moving to straddle his legs

“There we go” he presses a lingering kiss to your hair, hands wrapping around you while your head falls into his chest “Better?”

“Much” you hum, savouring the moment before you lift your head “I suppose you must have some questions?” you wonder, hands finding his chest, fiddling with buttons of his shirt

“I do” he confesses, it was only natural “My attack is hazy for me now because I was so young…” he softly caresses your cheek “...but it’s fresh for you and I…I don’t want to pry, I can wait until you’re ready” he assures you

You take his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm “You remember I told you about my dads case? He was representing the family that was attacked much like you were?” you begin and Remus nods, hands moving to your hips, thumbs gently brushing beneath the hem of his jumper

“Yeah, in your letters you said they got them all and your dad was taking you up north to celebrate?” he recalls but then his lips part “They didn’t get them all did they?”

You shake your head “Turns out their was a much bigger player, someone else behind the scenes who was pulling all the strings” you explain, eyes falling down to his chest, this is going to kill him

“Love…” he tries to guide you back to him “...who…” but as your eyes meet his and they tell all

“Rem” you voice trembles a little

“Say it” he begs you

“Greyback” you whisper watching as Remus’ heartbreak sinks into rage, his grip on your hips tightening “Remmy…Rem…”

He doesn’t hear you say his name, everything around him fades as his anger grows. He never wanted to hear that name again, he never wanted to see that monster again but now? All he could think about was ripping him apart, taking away his freedom like he had done to so many, making him feel as weak and powerless as Remus had felt his whole life…how you would now feel your whole life

I’ll kill him

“Rem” you gently cup his face pulling back to you “Stay with me” you kiss him softly

His hands come up to meet yours “But he hurt you, cursed us to be in pain for the rest of our lives…and the worst part is he’ll be revelling in it all…that bastard…he…” his anger sinks into sadness at your comforting touch “he…” he pleads with you

“He did and we don’t ever have to forgive him but we can't let him take away anything else from us either. He won’t ruin our lives” you watch remus’ eyes soften and you smile at him trying to lighten the mood “Besides…there's always silver linings”

“And what would those be?” he tilts his head, struggling to see it

“Well…” you move your hands downward and kiss his cheeks “...if your senses are anything like mine I smell great” you giggle and he starts to smile, a loving gaze as he looks up at you “And perhaps more importantly…” you peck his nose making it scrunch in the most perfect way “...you’ll never worry about me during a full moon…” you nudge your nose against his “...and that fantasy you have of us living in your parents old cottage can be real, because…” you lean in close, lips grazing as your foreheads kiss “...you’ll never be alone again”

Remus’ heart feels like it might burst, you were right, there were silver linings. He had no idea what his life was going to be like after Hogwarts, he knew he couldn’t rely on his friends forever, nor could he have asked you to bear that responsibility alone, instead you and he would face it together, care for each other together…heal together

“Promise” he holds up his pinky

You smile against his lips, wrapping you own pinky around it “Promise” and with that he closes the gap

Thank you for reading ♡ (I promise my writing will get smoother again with time)

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phantom-of-the-501st · 1 month ago

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Clone Headcanons

This has been sat in my phone notes for a while and I kept forgetting to actually turn it into a post. So here are some of my clone related headcanons (some of which have no explanation)

Crosshair is a nail-biter. When he was a cadet, his nails were almost non-existant and completely ragged. Once he had to start wearing blacks, he stopped because he couldn't chew his nails through the gloves, and he turned to toothpicks instead. He eventually worked himself out of the habit, but he will start biting his nails again if he goes without toothpicks for too long.

Echo talks in his sleep. Normally, it's non-sensical but he has spooked some of his brothers due to some slightly terrifying things that have been said while he's asleep.

Tup is non-binary.

Echo is aroace.

Wrecker has hearing loss in his left ear as a result of the explosion that scarred the side of his face. His brothers will talk a little louder if they are stood on his left, so that he can hear them better, and sometimes it takes them a few attempts to wake him up because he's fallen asleep on his right side and can't hear them very well.

Cody despises crying in front of people and will avoid it when he can. Rex is the only one who has actually seen Cody properly cry.

99 would tell the cadets stories when they were having nightmares and would often sacrifice his own sleep to make sure that they were okay. He would also name characters after the clones that he used to tell the stories to. One of the greatest honours was for a clone to be told that a character was named after them in one of 99's stories.

Dogma is allergic to tookas.

Echo has always run cold and would often sleep with socks on. He only stopped doing it because of his prosthetics. Fives is the opposite and will often sleep in as few clothes as possible.

Jesse has a scar on the back of his hand where Hardcase accidentally stabbed it with a fork.

Hunter is dyslexic and Tech would often help him during assessments so that the Kaminoans didn't find out.

Cody sleeps like the dead. He's very quiet and doesn't move around a lot, so much so that his brothers have panicked that he's died in his sleep on more than one occassion.

Wolffe accidentally called Plo Koon dad once. Plo actually found it very endearing but no-one is allowed to bring it up because Wolffe has very heavily implied that anyone who mentions it will never be found again.

Fox has a small scar just above his right eyebrow. If anyone asks, he just says he got it in an altercation and leaves it at that. No-one knows that said altercation was actually with a door that Fox walked into because he was too tired to pay attention.

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crystallinestars · 3 months ago

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A month had passed since the Luofu incident, and Jiaoqiu’s injuries had healed. It had been a long time since you last got to be intimate, and now that the foxian is in better shape, he’s eager to get his hands on you. This is basically just smut with an attempt at hurt/comfort. I’m not good at writing scenarios, so this may be subpar at best, but I tried. Image source. Word count: 4584

WARNING:

MAJOR spoilers for the 2.5 story quest

Content aimed at an 18+ audience

Possibly OOC Jiaoqiu

Lots of vanilla smut and affection

Jiaoqiu x Fem!Reader (reader has a vagina)

Jiaoqiu sat on the edge of the couch while you carefully wrapped a fresh roll of gauze around his chest, covering up the ugly, jagged scars running across his chest. According to Jiaoqiu, the wounds had healed and required no further medical attention, but you couldn’t feel at ease until you did everything you could to ensure he healed properly. The shock of how close he had come to death still gripped your heart with ice-cold fingers, as did the grief of how much he had changed as a result.

A month ago, you had looked forward to welcoming Jiaoqiu home from his trip to the Luofu ship. You knew he was handling an important mission to transport Hoolay—the terrifying borisin leader who was the enemy of all foxians —to the Yaoqing ship, and that complications might arise when dealing with such a dangerous monster. However, never did you imagine Jiaoqiu will return to you blind and injured. He said he ingested Tumbledust—a lethal poison—to trick Hoolay into consuming it along with his blood. You mourned his loss of sight, but Jiaoqiu only smiled and assured you that it was a small price to pay for Hoolay’s downfall and that he did not regret his actions.

“There, all done,” you said while tying a final knot to hold the gauze securely around Jiaoqiu’s torso.

“Thank you. This should be the last time this is needed,” Jiaoqiu said as he patted the couch in search of his shirt.

You fell quiet as you stood in front of him and watched him struggle to find the shirt which rested just a bit farther from where his hand was fumbling about. What Jiaoqiu could once do in seconds without much thought, now required more time and effort on his part. It pained you to see him this way.

Jiaoqiu’s ears twitched at the prolonged silence, and as if sensing your downtrodden mood, he abandoned his search for the shirt in favor of reaching his hands toward you. For a split second, he lightly traced his hands along your stomach until they reached your waist, and then he looped them around you and pulled. You fell forward with a small yelp and found yourself straddling his lap with your hands tightly grasping his shoulders.

“Jiaoqiu! What are you doing?” you asked with mild annoyance, a bit frazzled by this sudden gesture.

“Can’t a man hug his girlfriend? It’s been a while since I got to hold you like this,” the foxian innocently replied and tightened his hold on you as he hugged you close. His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt to rub small circles into the skin of your lower back, meanwhile his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his mouth beside your ear.

“I was just thinking about how much I missed your touch. You’ve been fussing over my condition ever since I returned, but I miss your intimate touches, dear,” he mused as he rubbed the tip of his nose along your neck. “Now that I’m fully recovered, I’m hungry for you, my love. Will you indulge me?”

Your breath hitched as Jiaoqiu’s hand slowly slid higher under your shirt, skimming along your ribs with his palms. You knew he wanted to have sex, and truth be told, you were craving it too. Ever since he came back injured, you abstained from sexual activity in favor of caring for your boyfriend. As a result, you were pent up and eager for some relief. Still, you worried about his physical condition.

Grasping the foxian’s wrist, you gently pulled it away from your body and held his hand in yours.

“I don’t know… it’s probably too soon,” you murmured, fixing your gaze upon his chest where several horrific scars lay hidden under the gauze.

Jiaoqiu sighed but didn’t push you. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We don’t have to do anything. But there is no need to hold back for my sake. My injuries have healed well, and I am perfectly healthy,” he admonished, his tone gentle yet firm.

You were still unconvinced. Even if his injuries were fine, there was still the issue of his blindness. Jiaoqiu could no longer do certain things with you such as cooking food for you or watching your favorite shows together. It stood to reason that sex with him would be different too, and you worried you would mess it up. What if you overwhelmed or made him uncomfortable by going too fast or rough? What if the moment felt awkward and ruined the allure of sexual intimacy for the two of you?

As if sensing your anxious thoughts, Jiaoqiu let out a soft hum and traced his hands up your arms and shoulders, following their path to your face. His palms tenderly cupped your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“I’m a doctor, dear. I know how much I can handle and how far to push myself,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss you. However, his lips missed the mark, and he kissed the corner of your mouth instead.

“Oops. I’m still not used to this yet,” he chuckled as he pulled away, laughing off the little mishap, but you could still feel the lingering warmth of his lips on your skin, slightly off from where he wanted them to land, and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you cradled his face and lightly trailed your thumbs along the corners of his eyes, getting him used to being touched there, before placing two kisses on the outer corners of his eyes.

Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked.

“Your eyes…” you started in a whisper as you pressed your forehead to his, feeling a little emotional. It still pained you to see how much Jiaoqiu lost from swallowing that poison.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jiaoqiu said, his voice even and gentle. Slowly, one hand came to rest upon your head in a comforting gesture and the words you’ve heard several times over were said to you again: “It’s a small price to pay for Hoolay’s demise. I have no grievances, dear. I am content.”

I am content.

Jiaoqiu often repeated those words to remind you that he was happy with how things turned out in the end. The result may not be perfect, but for Jiaoqiu, it’s the best outcome he could have hoped for. Hoolay was gone, Feixiao had hope for a cure, and countless innocent lives were saved. In the grand scheme of things, those were all very positive outcomes, so the loss of his sight was insignificant by comparison. He could live just fine without it.

“Besides, you pity me too much, love. I’m not a fragile kit. These eyes of mine may not be of much use anymore, but I am still me. And right now, what I am is a man craving for his girlfriend’s affection,” he mused and ran a hand up the length of your spine in a feather-light caress.

Your breath hitched and you arched your back when Jiaoqiu’s hand trailed up your spine in the exact way he knew you liked. His touch sent tingles of pleasure through your back, causing you to shiver in delight.

A pleased smile tugged on his lips when he heard your breath catch and felt your body shudder on his lap. The healer traced your spine again, eager to feel and hear you react to his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? If you let me, I’ll make you feel even better,” he purred against your ear and gave it a gentle nibble.

Overcome with lust and an intense craving for your boyfriend’s touch, you succumbed to his seduction. Taking hold of his chin, you guided Jiaoqiu’s mouth to meet yours. The kiss started out tender and sweet, full of the love you harbored for one another, but as your hands explored each other, the kiss became imbued with lust. Teeth nipped at lips and tongues met in a heated dance until your breaths ran short and you were forced to part for air.

Jiaoqiu’s hands mapped out the curves and dips of your body, slowly tracing the contours as if studying learning them for the very first time. Now that he no longer had his eyesight, his sense of touch served to teach him the look of your body. Though he had seen your bare figure many times before, now he was taking his time to truly familiarize himself with it. His palms glided over your shoulders and arms, the swells of your breasts, and the dips in your back, memorizing how you felt and reacted to every touch.

As you broke the kiss, a string of saliva joining you to Jiaoqiu’s mouth pulled back with you in a lewd display of desire, until it finally broke. A soft whisper of his name fell from your lips, and the foxian’s ears rotated in response to the sound. Their movement caught your attention.

Reaching your right hand up, you placed it on his head before slowly making your way toward the base of his ear so as to let him know what you wanted to do. Catching on to your intentions, Jiaoqiu chuckled and lowered his head so you could pet his ear more easily.

Your thumb rubbed gentle circles into the fluffiest part of his ear where you knew Jiaoqiu liked being touched. Sure enough, a subtle purr rumbled in the back of his throat. Encouraged by his response, you placed your left hand on his other ear and mirrored the process, rubbing both of his ears simultaneously. The foxian let out a shaky breath and tightened his grip on your hips, feeling your touch stronger than usual since the loss of his sight heightened his other senses.

You shifted to sit more comfortably on Jiaoqiu’s lap while petting his ears and felt a distinct hardness poke at you between your thighs. Even without looking down, you knew Jiaoqiu was pitching a tent. He wasn’t the only one feeling horny, however, and while still playing with his ears, you pressed your hips firmly against the bulge. A low, guttural groan tore from Jiaoqiu’s throat, and he leaned forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck, giving the skin a playful nip. You ground your hips again in response and reveled in the sharp hiss that motion elicited from the healer.

Growing a bit impatient from the teasing, Jiaoqiu tugged at your shirt in a silent message for you to take it off. You complied and shed your clothing, tossing it to the side as you exposed your body to him, save for a pair of panties. Once you were back on his lap, Jiaoqiu’s hands eagerly explored your bare skin, unhindered by pesky clothing.

Your hands traveled across his broad shoulders and down to his chest still covered by the gauze. The feeling of his warm skin transitioning into the coarse material sent a pang through your heart, and you leaned down to kiss the skin above the gauze. In response, Jiaoqiu breathed a soft sigh in and traced his hands up to your breasts before cupping them in his palms and flicking your nipples with his thumbs. Biting back a moan, you ground your hips against his once more and continued to dry hump against his groin at a slow and steady pace.

With each slow yet firm swivel of your hips, your clothed pussy rubbed against his erection, sending sparks of pleasure through your body each time your clit grazed against his hardness.

The tip of Jiaoqiu’s tail thumped against the couch with impatience.

“You’re being quite the tease,” Jiaoqiu rasped, smile strained as he tried to control his desire to buck against your pussy. The amount of friction you provided felt good, but it was not enough.

“Am I? And here I was just trying to make you feel good,” you teased, but relented, wanting to be nice to Jiaoqiu. Reaching a hand between your bodies, you undid his pants and fished out his erection. His cock was stiff and hot, the mushroom tip leaking beads of precum. Jiaoqiu groaned and swished his tail when you gave his dick an experimental pump.

“Be gentle,” he reminded, already feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of your hand grasping his aching length. You hummed in acknowledgment and lubricated your palm with his precum and your saliva, before wrapping it around his cock. As your hand pumped the hard flesh at a slow and gentle pace, Jiaoqiu’s body tensed, and you heard his breath hitch.

“Does this feel good?” you asked, hoping this wasn’t too overwhelming for your boyfriend.

“Yes. Just keep going,” he groaned and leaned his forehead against your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist in an almost desperate grip.

With his encouragement, you continued to pump his cock, going faster and gripping tighter when he said you could. Occasionally, you would switch to rubbing his tip with your palm or circling your thumb over the slit in the cockhead, smiling when you felt Jiaoqiu shiver in response to the stimulation.

Soft gasps and strained groans spilled from his lips, and his ears and tail twitched each time you stimulated a particularly sensitive spot on his cock. To enhance his pleasure, you used your free hand to rub circles on the skin around the base of his tail and trailed kisses along his neck, sucking marks into the areas you knew he liked. Pretty soon, Jiaoqiu was panting and rocking his hips into your hand, chasing after his release.

“Hah… Ah! Don’t stop—I’m close,” he moaned, voice coming out strained as he tried to hold back his sounds of pleasure.

Wanting to push your beloved over the edge, you kissed him hard and deep while jerking his cock at a steady pace and massaging the base of his tail. Jiaoqiu moaned into your mouth, and after a few seconds, you felt his cock twitch as ropes of cum covered your hand. Breaking the kiss, you pulled back and gave his dick a few more slow pumps, milking as much pleasure from his orgasm as you could, before finally letting go and wiping your hand on your thigh.

Jiaoqiu looked like a disheveled mess, ears askew and cheeks flushed as he sat there, gasping for breath.

“That felt way better than I remember,” he rasped with a weak smile.

Chuckling, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and pulled him in for a hug, letting Jiaoqiu recover from his orgasm.

“I’m glad it did. I had almost forgotten how good you look, all flushed like this,” you teased, earning a light pinch to your nipple from Jiaoqiu.

“I still haven’t forgotten how you look when you fall apart under my touch,” he said, turning the tables as he slid a hand between your legs. His fingers carefully traced over your crotch, feeling the outlines of your labia before cupping your clothed pussy.

“If there’s one thing I miss seeing, it’s that lovely face of yours when you orgasm,” he teased and laughed when you playfully slapped at his arm in retaliation.

Whatever barbed comments you wanted to send his way quickly died on your tongue as a surprised moan tore from your throat when Jiaoqiu found your clit and pressed his thumb against it. A molten knot of pleasure tightened in your abdomen when his thumb circled your clit over your drenched panties, eliciting another moan from you.

“What a lovely sound. I want to hear it again,” he purred. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good. Let's get you nice and wet for me, shall we?”

Jiaoqiu pushed aside your panties and slipped a single digit inside your soaking pussy, making you groan as your walls sucked it deeper inside.

“You’re so tight and wet,” he said in a husky whisper, slowly moving his finger in and out of your cunt, creating a lewd, wet noise with each pump. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Jiaoqiu adjusted the angle of his hand and slid a second finger into you. His thumb teased your clit in languid circles while his fingers slowly scissored you open, prepping you for his cock. You moaned and bucked your hips into his hand, wanting more stimulation.

Jiaoqiu chuckled but doubled down his efforts to please you. His thumb pressed harder against your nub, and he curled his fingers inside you, searching for that one spot on the upper wall of your vagina that made you see stars. When he found it, he pressed on it over and over again with each thrust of his fingers, smirking at how you keened and clutched his shoulders in response.

“Feels good, does it?” he mused, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yeah, but you talk too much,” you huffed and kissed Jiaoqiu to shut him up. The foxian only laughed into the kiss, but let his tongue play with yours while he sped up the thrusts of his fingers.

He broke the kiss and carefully leaned his head forward to touch his forehead against yours, your warm breaths mingling together as you rutted against his hand. The knot in your belly grew tighter and tighter, your climax steadily approaching as the healer worked to send you over the edge.

Once you were sufficiently relaxed, Jiaoqiu plunged a third finger into your core and switched to rubbing your clit with the heel of his palm. You groaned at the stretch and clung to his shoulders, instinctively bucking your hips against his hand, trying to take the digits deeper. Soft moans of his name slipped past your lips as you moved your hips in time with his hand, feeling the knot in your belly slowly tighten.

Jiaoqiu’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and he gently kissed your neck and shoulders, whispering praises about how lovely you sounded to encourage you to let more of your voice out. His other hand trailed along your side, reaching up to squeeze your breast and tease your nipple, or reaching behind to run along your spine in that same teasing manner, smiling when he felt your pussy flutter around his fingers in response.

“Are you close?” Jiaoqiu asked, keeping that same steady rhythm as he fingered you, hitting your g-spot.

“Y-Yeah… I’m close,” you answered, your voice wavering as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax.

“Then let go. Let me feel you come all over my fingers,” he whispered into your ear and gave it a nip.

As if by command, your body convulsed and you were hurled into an orgasm, hips desperately bucking into Jiaoqiu’s hand while your walls squeezed his digits. You stifled your moans against his shoulder, and Jiaoqiu continued to thrust his fingers into you, helping you ride out your orgasm until you stopped trembling. The foxian gently pulled his fingers out of your pussy, drenched and slick with your essence, before licking them clean.

“I missed your taste…” Jiaoqiu murmured, savoring your flavor, making you blush at this erotic display. The foxian gently pulled you against his chest, and you slumped against him, breathing heavily as you regained your senses.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, lightly stroking your head.

“Good. Very good,” you replied with a breathless chuckle. “I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while.”

Jiaoqiu smiled, pleased that he had such an effect on you.

Though the healer didn’t say anything, you felt his erection poke at your abdomen and knew that his body wanted more than the one orgasm you gave him earlier.

“Do you want to keep going?” you asked him as you traced a finger along the slimy mushroom tip. Jiaoqiu flinched at the unexpected touch and hissed.

“I wouldn’t mind if we kept going, but only if you want to, love.”

Smiling, you leaned in and gave him a light peck on the lips. “I do want to,” you said. “I’ve gone way too long without feeling you inside me. Just let me know if you need to stop.”

You made Jiaoqiu agree to tell you if he felt discomfort at any point before adjusting yourself on his lap. Lifting your hips, you lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance, taking a moment to tease it over your opening and coat it with your slick. Jiaoqiu stifled a groan and tightened his grip on your hips, restraining the urge to thrust his hips up and bury his aching cock in your slick warmth.

Once the tip was pressed against your entrance, you slowly sank down, taking Jiaoqiu’s length inch by inch. You both moaned once he bottomed out and basked in the familiar feeling of being joined together.

“I missed this,” Jiaoqiu said, resting his forehead against your shoulder while he breathed deeply to try and acclimate to the snug squeeze of your pussy. The sensation felt more intense than he remembered. “You feel so good around me, dear.”

“I missed this too,” you murmured, hugging Jiaoqiu and stroking his head.

“I wish I could see your face right now. I bet you look really cute,” he added in a low voice and traced a hand up your body until he felt the familiar curve of your jaw. His index finger lightly traced your cheek, causing your heart to squeeze in your chest. Taking his hand, you leaned your cheek into his palm and kissed the inside of his wrist. Jiaoqiu tensed at the sensation at first but quickly relaxed and smiled.

When both of you had grown accustomed to the sensations, you started moving. Gripping Jiaoqiu’s shoulders, you ground against him by slowly rotating your hips. His cock pleasantly rubbed along your walls, stoking the fire in your belly. Jiaoqiu let out another low moan and hugged you close, pressing your bodies flush together.

After a few minutes of this slow, gentle grinding, Jiaoqiu adjusted his hold on your waist and bucked upwards, driving himself deeper inside you. You moaned in surprise and stopped.

“You can move faster, I’m not going to break,” he reminded you, a hint of pleading in his voice. He wasn’t satisfied with this gentle pace.

“Fine. You’re so impatient,” you playfully chided him, but complied. Getting into a more comfortable position, you lifted off his lap before lowering back down again, biting back a moan at how his cock dragged against your walls. Over and over, you gently bounced on his dick, slowly picking up speed and angling your hips so his tip hit that sweet spot deep inside, sending jolts of pleasure through you with each thrust.

Jiaoqiu groaned and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking more marks into the skin while his tail swished side to side in excitement. One of his hands roamed along your back, nails lightly raking down your spine and causing you to moan and shiver with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around his member, eliciting another throaty noise of pleasure from the foxian.

The sharp sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with your heady moans of pleasure echoed in the room as you rode Jiaoqiu’s length. The knot in your belly tightened even more as you felt your climax slowly approach, but the tired aching in your thighs made you slow down. Your slowed pace alerted Jiaoqiu to your tiredness, and he skimmed a hand between your bodies until his fingers found your clit. He pressed hard on it and rubbed tight circles with the pad of his thumb, causing you to jolt and moan in response.

“Just a little more, dear. Hang in there for a little longer,” he encouraged, voice hoarse with pleasure. The stimulation against your clit motivated you to keep moving, chasing after your release that was now within reach.

“Jiaoqiu, I’m gonna cum,” you slurred, pressing your torso firmly against his as you spend up your thrusts. The foxian looped an arm around your waist, holding you close while still working on your clit.

“Go on, dear, cum for me. I’m also close,” he said in a strained voice, desperately trying to hold out to come together with you.

After a few more eager thrusts and rubs against your clit, you came with a loud cry. Your hands dug into Jiaoqiu’s shoulders as you rode out the high, hips eagerly grinding against his as your pussy pulsed around his cock. Jiaoqiu followed after you and climaxed while groaning your name, bucking his hips up into yours, forcing himself deeper into your cunt as he spilled inside your warmth.

With a shudder, you came down from your orgasm and slumped against Jiaoqiu’s torso, feeling completely spent. You were out of breath and your legs ached, but you were satisfied in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. Not since Jiaoqiu left for the Luofu over a month ago.

The feeling of the foxian’s hands gently massaging your thighs brought you back to reality, and you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were curled into a serene and sincere smile, an expression of true happiness adorning his face.

“How do you feel?” he asked that familiar question, one he always asked after each session of sex you had with him. As a doctor and your partner, he felt it was his duty to make sure you were alright afterward.

“Tired but thoroughly satisfied,” you said with a contented hum. Jiaoqiu’s smile widened.

“I’m glad. You did well,” he said and kissed your forehead.

After the two of you regained your strength, Jiaoqiu pulled out of you but kept you on his lap, hugging you close while still massaging the soreness out of your thighs. His head lay on your shoulder, tail lazily swaying from side to side while you absentmindedly rubbed one of his ears. He appeared to be at peace, a state you haven’t seen him in for weeks. After all, it’s hard to be at ease when you suddenly lose the functionality of your eyes and have to learn how to navigate the world without eyesight.

“One day, we’ll heal your eyes,” you whispered with determination. “I promise.”

Jiaoqiu let out a small hum, his tail pausing in its movements.

“I know you will. You and Feixiao will make it happen, one way or another,” he said with a hint of amusement. “But even if you don’t, I’ll be happy as long as I have you and everyone else by my side.”

He leaned in for a kiss, but his lips landed on your chin. Chuckling at his awkward targeting, the healer gently gripped your chin and tilted your head up for a proper kiss.

Jiaoqiu was still your beloved Jiaoqiu through and through. He was content to live a life where his loved ones were safe and happy, but you wanted to at least try to search for a solution to his blindness. Whether you had to scour through heaps of ancient records or travel to the other side of the universe, you wanted to help and heal Jiaoqiu the way he had helped and healed so many others.

But if by some misfortune there was no cure for his ailment, you will remain by his side no matter what. Jiaoqiu is devoted to you and you to him, and that will never change.

#Honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x reader smut #jiaoqiu x female reader

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pressureplus · 4 months ago

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Various Dating Sebastian Solace Headcannons

Warnings: Mild Suggestive Content, Intersex Sebastian

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He loves to kiss you more than anything, loves to be loved honestly

Please touch him, he hasn’t been touched in so long

He’s got a fascination with scars, any old scars that you let him see he will absolutely trace with his fingers

Mildly obsessive, 100% possessive, he doesn’t really like the idea of sharing you or letting other people flirt with you

Insecurity is the root of it mostly, who would choose a massive fish monster over any average human? Let alone an attractive one.

He tries to make light of his insecurities with jokes but know that he is genuinely concerned he isn’t attractive enough for you. He plays it up like he thinks he’s the hottest man alive…

He doesn’t.

Very playful and makes tons of jokes about lots of things, dark humor to cope included

Once asked if you were a monster fucker, leaned in real close so you could look into his eyes properly

Grinned because he already knew the answer

He doesn’t like being flirted with by other people unless this means he’s getting something out of them, flirting to get more data is not above him

He knows some of the sick freaks down here look at him funny, and though he doesn’t know why, he wont stop them if it gets him something he needs

Never be scared of him leaving you, he’s got attachment issues and trust issues. You’re practically half his heart.

You better be able to handle being pawed at. Maybe not a ton but he likes to grab at thigh, chest, hip, anywhere that has the most meat. He’s got favorites depending on exactly how you’re built

If you’re on the thin side, he wants to squeeze your hips or waist to feel like he’s got a firm grip on you

If you’re on the average side, he prefers anywhere he can see the most pudge, stomach included

If you’re on the chubby side, he absolutely loves your thighs as it’s the easiest thing to grab for

He only squeezes and bites you when he’s fully comfortable, and would be happy to accept the same

Leave marks. He’d like that.

He doesn’t grab things off shelves for you unless he’s in a hurry or in front of other people

He prefers to pick you up and lift you to whatever you’re trying to grab…he has a habit of not letting you go after though so be careful

He does have a sex drive, he’s just not super open about it…again, insecurities

He doesn’t exactly have a human dick anymore you know

He’s got female anglerfish DNA too…so he also has pussy just cuz I feel like he should.

Yes he struggles with the idea of you being disgusted by that, he had some body issues for a while over it too

Honestly thinks you’d be disgusted with him if you wanted to sleep with him, so he’ll never bring it up and he’ll be nervously avoidant about the topic

Plus, he’s practically twice your size! That probably wouldn’t be fun for you at all anyway

All in all, insecure but loyal and quietly loving. He’s still rude and honestly? Most people would probably tell you to leave that guy. Definitely not the brand of man you wanna bring home to mama

But he’s in love with you. Genuinely. Hopefully that’s all you need from him

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silverflameataraxia · 2 months ago

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My favorite Az moments in this entire series have been with Nesta and Gwyn 🥰

Az calmly asking Nesta why she isn't training. Not as a means to insult her, but just asking because he cares about her and her feelings. Nesta being so worried about Az in the Bog of Oorid that she demands that Cassian leave her in a tree so he can go back to rescue Az. Az being absolutely frantic when they can't find Nesta in the Bog. Nesta and Az dancing together. Nesta going up to talk to Az, and comfort him, when she notices him being more aloof than usual at Winter Solstice. Az buying her a present specifically for her, knowing she wasn't able to buy him a gift in return, and giving it to her in front of everyone. Nesta being so excited that she jumps up and flings her arms around Az. Az chuckling and squeezing her gently. Nesta trying so hard to get Az to smile at her. Az and Nesta going back-to-back to fight the Middengard Wyrm. Az coaxing the Mask off of Nesta, grabbing her as she falls and bringing her to his chest, stroking her hair gently. Nesta and Az walking side by side after that ordeal, not wanting to be too far from each other. Nesta sticking up for Az when Bryce calls him a creep. Az boasting about Nesta spectacularly beheading the King of Hybern. Az saying Nesta is someone he loves and asking for her forgiveness, to which she says that there's nothing to forgive. Az quickly flinging his arm in front of Nesta to protect her when the door to the chamber starts to open. Nesta using her magic to let Az through the wards, which he walks through without a shred of fear. Az and Nesta working in perfect tandom to distract Bryce and to try and gain an advantage over Vesperus. Injured Nesta leaning against Az for support.

Az wrapping Gwyn in his cloak after she endures an incredibly traumatic event. Az originally wanting to be alone, but staying with Gwyn, even after she gives him an out. Gwyn teasing Az. Gwyn is comfortable around Az enough to practice cutting the ribbon with him watching. Az showing her how to properly rotate her blade and not once thinking of his scarred hands, even though she's staring right at them. Gwyn is absolutely irreverent to Az being a shadowsinger. Gwyn causing Az's shadows to sing and dance. Az, who normally has an unreadable face, has admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face while watching Gwyn prepare to cut the ribbon. Gwyn challenging Az.

And then, of course, there's the fact that Az is rarely surprised by people... and both Gwyn and Nesta surprise him within days of each other. Gwyn surprises him by asking if he sings, and then Nesta surprises him a few days later by laughing 😍

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innerfare · 2 months ago

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Eustass Kid NSFW // Smut Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Eustass Kid smut from my multi character posts (Kisses, Going Down On You, Sex Toys, Threesome Headcanons, Blowjobs, Playing With Your Nipples, Mirror Sex).

Genre: Pure Smut

CW: NSFW // mean dom Kid, oral (receiving and giving), sloppy kisses and sex, threesomes with Killer, toys, bondage, exhibitionism

———

Kisses: So messy, so sloppy, will definitely bite your lips and tongue. He’s everywhere all at once, going down to your neck to replace any of your hickies that have faded before going back to your swollen lips. What people don’t know (and he’d kill you if you told anyone) is that, when he falls into bed late at night, completely exhausted and smelling of sweat and motor oil (basically his cologne), he gives you the sweetest, softest kisses, pulling back to gently brush his thumb over your lips before leaning in to give you another. He has also, on very late, drunken nights, allowed you to kiss his most sensitive scars.

Going Down On You:

Prefers to eat you out from behind. There’s no division between eating ass and eating pussy as far as this man is concerned, either. He does both or neither, and putting you on all fours or bending you over something is the easiest way for him to get what he wants.

He’s so mean about it, too. “Poor little thing. You can’t function properly until you’ve been tongue fucked by your man, can you?”

He’ll chew your nipples raw and snap at you to stop whining about it, you brat. He’ll pull back to spit directly onto your folds, doing it quite loudly because he knows it embarrasses you and makes your hole clench, you adorable fuck bunny. He’ll flick your clit and laugh when you squeal, and he’ll make fun of you when you cum, you needy slut. If you cream or squirt, you’ll never live it down, you pathetic whore. He’ll hold it over your head, but don’t take that to mean he doesn’t like it- he’s obsessed with your cream.

He’ll spank you, but he prefers to bite. Your ass will be covered in bite marks and hickeys before he ever plunges his tongue into one of your holes. He’s feral when he does, growling and grunting the entire time. And when he’s finished, he’ll place a few sweet kisses on your cunt and ass, give you a light spank, and tell you to get yourself cleaned up. Unless, of course, he wants to fuck you after, in which case you’re in for a long night. If he eats his cum out of you, he'll most definitely be fucking another load into you.

His Favorite Place:

By far, his favorite place to fuck you is the deck of the Victoria Punk. Whether the crew are out drinking or they’re asleep below deck, the knowledge that they could catch you in such a compromising position has him fucking you against the mast, eating you out on the stairs to the upper deck, pushing your head between his legs while he leans against a canon, etc. He’s also bent you over the front railing before and eaten you out while you clutched the wheel. It’s not just about the thrill of getting caught, though. Fucking you on his ship makes him feel like the most powerful captain sailing the seas.

Threesome Headcanons 1:

Kid sneaking into your marine base to fuck you, finding your roommate is still in the room when he gets there. He expects her to sound the alarm, but instead, he ends up fucking you both. You and your roommate were never attracted to each other before, but the pirate’s cock is like an aphrodisiac, one you’d probably be kicked out of the navy for indulging in but you just can’t help yourselves. Kid fucking you first since he was there for you, after all, and eating his cum out of you while he fucks your roommate.

Threesome Headcanons 2:

Kid and Killer arguing over who gets to have you before realizing they both can if they just stop arguing for five minutes. Kid and Killer stripping you of your clothes and inspecting every inch of you, so very pleased with themselves. Kid lifting you off the ground and opening your legs with his big hands so Killer can see your exposed pussy, Killer holding you against his rigid chest and holding your legs open so Kid can bury his face in your cunt and ass, the two of them tag teaming you like a pair of feral animals, though stopping every few minutes to make sure you’re still doing alright because they know their cocks are massive (smug bastards). Afterward, Killer making you something to eat and Kid telling you that you did such a good job for them, the three of you might need to make it a more permanent arrangement.

Sex Toys:

Puts metal bracelets/anklets on you, uses his devil fruit ability to hold your limbs wherever he wants them, has most definitely used this to practice the range of his devil fruit ability by leaving you bound and naked somewhere on the ship and seeing how far away he can get with the metal remaining magnetized. When he uses a vibrator on you, it's a wand- none of that little bullet shit. Anytime he doesn’t have your nipples between his teeth, he has them in nipple clamps for sure. Definitely the type to put a collar on you if you’re willing, would prefer something that could pass as a choker necklace so you can wear it in public; would really like one with a bell. Literally down for any type of toy. But he does have times when he wants no toys at all, just the two of you, skin to skin.

Blowjobs:

Basically can’t function without a blowjob. That being said, he understands that a man of his size can be difficult to suck off, so he’s very patient. The bully you often have sex with rarely, if ever, makes an appearance when you’re going down on him. He’ll stroke your hair and offer you sweet words of encouragement, biting back a devilish grin when you choke on his length. “I know it’s big, but you can handle it. Nice and slow, just like that. Make sure to breathe.” He’ll even help you out by stroking his cock or playing with his balls. His eyes are glued to you the entire time for fear he’ll miss his favorite part: when you tear up a little bit. He’s happy to cum anywhere, but your chest is by far his favorite place. You learn quickly to take your shirt off when you go down on him because he won’t aim away, even if you’re wearing a new top or have somewhere to be afterward.

Playing With Your Nipples:

Feral in general, but especially when it comes to your nipples. He’ll chew them raw if you let him, saliva running down your tits and abdomen because he’s so ridiculously messy about it. And when he’s done a number on your nipples with his teeth, he insists you allow him to suck on them to make them feel better (don’t let him, it won’t work). Has pierced them and takes it upon himself to decide which barbells you wear. Will definitely magnetize the barbells to pull you into his lap.

Mirror Sex:

He’s pretty kinky, and there are very few things he hasn’t tried. But mirror sex is new for him. It all started because there was a very pretty mirror you said you liked, but the frame was disastrously broken (or rather, you and Killer broke it when you tried to lift it from some poor soul’s house as you were stealing it). Kid said he’d fix it for you, so there it sits in his workshop when you come in late at night like you normally do to get fucked before going to bed, and then it clicks in Kid’s head. It becomes one of his new favorite things, because he normally gets so wrapped up in what he’s doing to you it’s difficult to pay attention to how you look when he’s doing it. The mirror helps with that. He can see how read your tits get when he kneads them while railing you from behind, just how massive his cock looks next to you, the way it slides in and out of your mouth and cunt while tears well in your eyes. Needless to say, the mirror is a keeper.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece smut #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #eustass kid #eustass x reader #one piece x reader #Kidd x reader

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moonstruckme · 7 months ago

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babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters.

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you.

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it.

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?”

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?”

“I—I don’t think so.”

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?”

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?”

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?”

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?”

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?”

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze.

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.”

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands.

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound.

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.”

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.”

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly.

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

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chainelunaire · 1 year ago

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hands hands hands

gojo satoru

light easy touches, almost innocent (sometimes not). very touchy, you probably know his hands better than your own. feeling everything with the tips of his fingers. pats on your head and making a mess of your hair, then tying it up nicely. hand around your shoulder, when he says something directly in your ear. playing with a pen while pretending to listen. hands big and warm everywhere but his fingertips. hands of a man who has a lot of love to give but doesn't know how to show it properly.

geto suguru

long slender hands, slightly cold but not much. surprisingly rough skin, but the gentlest touch of all. deadly, deadly hands, capable of ending someone's life bare. playing piano or with a knife with the same ease. the beauty of just touching someone without saying a word. folding hands in prayer, worshipping a cruel god, made by people themselves. tender palm caressing your head, touch as warm as it is motherly. hands so loved by the kids, because they never ever let anyone hurt them again. relatively long nails, always perfectly manicured. hands of a man who knows how to love, but chose otherwise.

nanami kento

very moderate, very predictable, right in the middle. not so warm, not so cold, skin not rough not soft. hands smell like rich black tea, because of how often he made it for you. the feeling you get when someone writes something by hand in front of you for quite some time. knuckle cracking, even though he himself despises to do it, he does it out of habit. hand that always guides you throw the crowd. fingers trembling when he's too tired. hands of a man who always wanted to love, but never had the chance to.

fushiguro toji

confident hands of a dangerous man. you can never recall the feeling of the skin, because of how rarely he touches you. hands closing before his face on autopilot, because of how severely he was beaten in his own household. calloused fingers, clecnhing fists out of sudden bursts of anger. grip firm, it's impossible to get out. careful playing with dangling toys above small bed, laugher of a child filling the room. sound of cracking bones and the smell of blood everywhere. hands of a man who once knew love, but it was so long ago, the feeling long forgotten.

ryomen sukuna

hands covered in blood, brutal hands of a violent, non-human creature. they hold no love, no joy, not anything. touch not warm, but insted hot, painful. skillful hands, which know how to turn anything into a weapon by the touch. a big talent for craftmanship. short but strong squeeze on your shoulder, commanding you to continue the battle. big cruel hands holding a small ancient poetry book with so much care and respect. so many scars, yet only so much still do hurt. hands of a man who knew no love and therefore chose to love no one but himself.

itadori yuji

warm hands, strong hold. always dry and rough, to the point they bleed sometimes. he blushes when you put bandages on them. clean short nails. playing basketball with ease. olive-toned veins, warm toned skin, smells like something sweet and almost sunny. clenching fists when he's angry. hands oh so tender when they hold something or someone dear to him. palms kindly cupping your cheeks when he says you with a smile that everything will be okay. hold so strong, he's able to catch you, no matter how fast you fall. hands of a friend who does not love himself enough, but instead loves you more than you deserve.

fushiguro megumi

long slim fingers, gentle touches. always so cautious, as if he's not allowed to touch anything or anyone. detailed handwork with magic sealing, so precise and smooth. putting a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips cold, but soft. strong yet careful hold on your shoulder, comforting touches to soothe you and bring you some relief. hands that every dog and any other animal loves, because of how gentle and caring they are. hands of someone who was loved, despite everything that happened to him, and who wants to give that love back.

yuta okkotsu

cold cold cold hands of a man with a dead soul behind his back. boney and slim, they look fragile and weak, and you could not be more wrong. pale skin, borderline bluish, lots of bruises. hands more of a musician, not a swordsman. hold so strong, it almost scares you, and he didn't even try. sweet tight hugs, feeling safe with every muscle and bone. fears of his own strength, the hold of a man who earns for love and fears to break it with his own hands.

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exactlyyoungchaos · 8 months ago

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Loss of my Life.

Husband Simon X Reader.

My first time writing here!!! Please don't mind the mistakes as I'm writing this at 5 in the morning. enjoy!!!

TW: loss of a relationship, hurt, angst, little comfort, cursing, trauma(loss of family, mention of miscarriage), "its not you, its me bullshit" let me know if i missed something!

You used be a medic working with TF141 for years before you retired. that's how you met your now husband Simon Riley. he was the most loving, attentive and responsible partner you could've asked for, he was ghost to everyone but not you, never you. But something's changed recently.

ever since his last mission eight months ago, he's been detached, not talking to you properly, coming home extremely late and drunk. he hasn't even touched you since he came back and its saying something for a guy who used to be attached to your hips whenever he could.

you tried talking to him, tried asking what's wrong but you always got the same answer, " you're thinkin too much lovie, nothings wrong."

but you know your husband so you start digging, and that's the biggest mistake you have made.

you found a note in his vest pocket, where he keeps his wedding ring during missions that read " be safe and come back to me" in a handwriting you knew by heart but it wasn't yours.

it was of his childhood best friend. she was in the special forces as well, and recently worked with Simon's team on the last mission.

you knew then and there, the reason of the detachment, the curt responses. your husband was in love with the woman he told you not to worry about.

your eyes blur with the realization that the life you once knew is soon going to come to an end, the man you're in love with , who's ring you have been wearing for years is not yours anymore or maybe he never was.

you sat there in your closet, tears streaming down your face, gut wrenching sobs coming out of you mouth. he isn't home, like usual so there is no one to witness the loss of your life.

your brain conjure up all the good times you had with him but now all of it is tainted by the realization that none of it was true.

you remember every time you caught both of them looking at each other, the friendly adoration in Simon's eyes now looked like longing, with his hands still around your waist.

every time he said to you "you're the love of my life" with his lips on yours, was he wishing it was her? all these years, you were so in love, so blinded by the rose tinted glasses you had over your eyes that you never saw it?

you sat there for hours, mulling over your whole life. how the one person you thought was yours forever was never yours. so you got up, eyes hollow, bloodshot and puffy, your form trembling. you put the note back where it was and go lay on your bed.

you stare at the wall for hours, around three am, your front door opened and closed. you felt him as he walked in the bedroom and slipped under the sheets next to you.

for the first time in weeks, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you towards himself, " you awake love?" he murmured in your neck.

all that came out of your mouth was, " Am I not enough?" in a rough whisper.

his arms tense around you, he knows that you know. before he could say something, you turn to face him, still in his arms.

you look at his face, and trace his scars with your fingers as tears fell from your eyes on your pillow.

his expression is tortured, " Its not what you-" but you cut him off with a soft shush and a finger on his lips. the lips you called home for as long as you remember.

you don't want him to lie to you anymore so you smile, the same smile Simon has witnessed when you lost your whole family in an accident as he stood next to your shaking form during the funeral, the same smile you gave him when you had a miscarriage as he stood next to you on the hospital bed holding your hand, grieving with you.

his heart was breaking, he was cursing himself for doing this to you. but you don't blame him, you haven't said anything to him except "will you hold me for the last time? please?" and you bury your face in his chest, taking in his scent for the last time. feeling his erratic heartbeat for the last time.

Simon's hand tightened around you, he doesn't want to let you go. the only good thing that happened to him. he destroyed you, like he always does to anything he touches.

he knows he cant fix this, nothing he could say would fix this. so he held you, with all his might, for the last time.

part 2?

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #angst #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #first time writing

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aquaquadrant · 10 months ago

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Philophobia

Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.

A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.

So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

Philophobia

~*~

“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.

The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.

Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.

… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing.

Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”

“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”

The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.

“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”

He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.

“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”

Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”

“From murder?” Scar gasps.

Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”

Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.

“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”

“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”

“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”

They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.

But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.

And his name is Scar.

Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…

… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.

So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.

(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)

So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.

But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.

“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”

Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.

It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.

Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.

“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”

A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”

Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”

Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”

“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”

Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”

Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.

Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.

It means that they’re Up To Something.

… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.

“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”

Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”

Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

~*~

“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”

“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”

Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…

“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…”

Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.

The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’.

In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…

“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”

Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”

“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”

Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”

“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Grian gives them a warning Look.

They give him a cheeky Look back.

“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”

“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”

Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.

It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.

See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.

The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.

Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. ��We should take some pictures for her.”

“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”

Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.

“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”

Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”

“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”

“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”

Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.

Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”

I’m close.

Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.

Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”

“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.

After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.”

Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”

Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”

Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”

“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”

The front door slams shut.

That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-

The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.

Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.

There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.

Footsteps.

They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.

Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-

The footsteps stop.

Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-

Bye-bye!

The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.

It’s over.

Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.

A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-

“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”

Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.

Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.

This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.

Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.

Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.

Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.

Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”

No way.

“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”

“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”

“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”

He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-

Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.

Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”

Wait. Wait just a second.

Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it?

Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.

“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”

Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”

“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”

Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”

“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.

“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”

Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.

And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.

He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”

Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-

“... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”

It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”

“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”

That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”

“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”

Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”

Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”

“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”

Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.

Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.

In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.

Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is.

Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.

Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.

“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”

Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.

“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”

“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”

“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”

“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”

“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”

“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”

“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”

“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”

Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”

“Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.

The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.

“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”

Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”

“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”

Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.

Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”

“Scar!”

~*~

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #scarian #my writing #listen i am only a casual phasmo enjoyer and idk anything about architecture school pls don't come for me abt any inaccuracies #just here for a good gay spooky time #wanted to see if i'd be any good at writing commissions (ie. solely based off someone else's idea) and i had FUN #but it's always easy to be inspired by mel <3

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inkedinshadows · 4 months ago

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Azriel headcanons

Since I'm working on too many fics and not finishing even one, here's a list of random headcanons I have about our favorite shadowsinger. Seriously, they're very random.

I have so many more, but I didn't want this to be too long lol. Let me know if I should write more of them.

If it weren't for his scars that make it impossible for him (it'd probably be really uncomfortable), Azriel would wear rings. And I mean a lot of them, on both hands. Very slutty of him if you ask me. This is how I imagine it to look like:

And necklaces as well. Like silver little chains and similar.

Azriel is 100% a cat person. I don't think I need to say more, we can all agree on this, right?

The shadowsinger can sing, we all know that. But my current obsession is him playing the piano. He probably learned while healing his hands when he was a child because it helped with coordination. He's really good at it, but he doesn't play in front of people. Only for you. (I wrote a fic about this: Play It For Me)

He has a very neat handwriting. Again, he had to practice a lot after his hands were burned to use them properly again. I picture something like this:

He's the kind of "monster" that eats pizza with a knife and fork instead of just cutting slices and using his hands (I'm Italian, I'm allowed to say this). He would also always stick to the same pizza, never changing the topping too much (relatable). He'd probably keep it simple, with mozzarella, black olives, and maybe anchovies if he feels extra.

Since we're talking food, if you are out on a date or just eating at a restaurant or whatever and you order something you end up not liking, he's swapping your dishes and giving you his. If you do like it but you also like his a lot, then he asks you if you want to share and eat half of each.

He's not a cocktail guy. Here as well, he likes to keep it simple: whiskey, brandy, wine if he's eating, and beer if he's hanging out with Cassian. If he does drink a cocktail, his go-to choices are Black Russian, gin and tonic, Old Fashioned, Manhattan, and Negroni (which might be an Italian cocktail, I'm not sure).

Oh, and he loves coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Mostly espresso, but also full mugs of it, especially in the morning.

Azriel loves turtleneck sweaters. Leather jackets are another favorite. When he's out, he mostly wears black or dark jeans, but at home? Sweatpants. Those infamous grey sweatpants we all love. Again, very slutty. He bought them without thinking too much about it, but once he saw your reaction to him wearing them, they became his favorite piece of clothing out of everything he had ever owned.

On the topic of clothing, we know he mostly wears black, but we also know he loves Winter Solstice. He could be easily convinced to wear one of those ugly Christmas sweaters, especially if you bat your eyelashes at him. He can never say no when you give him doe eyes. He'll complain about it, but he secretly loves it, even more so if you're wearing a matching one. The first three are nice and simple and cute, the other two if you want to embarrass him a little (but he still wouldn't say no):

Same goes for Halloween. Couple costumes? He's down. Would he admit he likes it? Probably not. Would he refuse to do it until you're begging him to, just so he can see your cute pout? Absolutely. And of course, he lets you do his make-up.

He smokes. Not much, just 2/3 cigarettes throughout the day, but it can be more if he's stressed or nervous. (Just imagine the hand in the first picture with a cigarette, it's just the perfect position already. I don't smoke and I can't even stand the smell, but I would honestly let Azriel blow the smoke in my face fr)

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel headcanons #acotar headcanons #acotar #sjm #headcanon

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lay-z · 14 days ago

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💒 Day 9 – Separated

A continuation to 🎁 Day 1 – All I want for Christmas (is you), which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: Happily married for several months now, you and John spend your first Christmas as newlyweds in Glasgow with his family.

Pairing: John Soap MacTavish x fem!Reader Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; domesticity; married life/established relationship; humour; fluff; cussing; male masturbation; oral sex; hurt/comfort; angst with a happy ending (Yay!)

Word count: 3.6k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

You shiver despite your warm layers of clothing and stifle another yawn as you wait for the front door to the MacTavish's home to open. The large house is adorned with bright lights and decorations, even in the front yard, and a traditional Christmas wreath has been hung up at the old, heavy door.

The noise inside is muffled, but you can already hear the music, chatter and overall chaos.

Next to you, your husband glances over, a crease of concern between his dark brows as soon as he notices the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders slouch with fatigue.

"Ye alright, luv? Ye're no’ gettin' sick on me, eh?" He reaches over to rub your back over your thick winter coat, trying to shield you from the freezing gusts of snow-speckled wind.

"Nah, 'm fine," you reply, yawning this time and smacking your lips before smiling over at him, "Just tired again."

John nods, curling his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer into his side, leaning in to kiss your temple – and discreetly check if you might have a fever as his lips linger.

"Aye, hen, t’was a long drive here." He remarks, muttering against your skin before pulling back with an exasperated sigh as he lifts his fist to knock once more.

It’s your first Christmas as a married couple and while the both of you intitially wanted to spend it alone together, his family kept nagging and begging him to come back to Glasgow to celebrate the holidays properly with the whole MacTavish clan, like in the old days. Cue your own family giving you hell for choosing your husband’s side of the family over them.

Needless to say, the past couple of weeks have been rather stressful, with your responsibilities serving in the military and being part of the 141 breathing down your neck, too, along with John’s own reintroduction into his military service, which caused you two to have less time for each other than you both expected.

“I’ll give ye a massage later,” John says, his voice dropping to a promising murmur, “How does that sound?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you huff a laugh as you lean in to hug him back and rest your cheek against his chest, limbs feeling heavy already.

“Doesn’t sound too bad.” You glance up at him, admiring his handsome face with a soft smile, and your heart gives a sudden flutter like it did when you first started fooling around in secret, back when you first joined the task force after him.

The door cracks open eventually, and a wave of warmth embraces you immediately, making you shudder as you cling to John. His mother pokes her head out and her bright blue eyes immediately light up.

“Well, if it isn’t my handsome son and his bonnie bride.” She smiles warmly, eyes crinkling in the corners as she pulls her only son into a hug, “We’ve been wonderin’ where ye are!”

“Hello, ma.” John mutters while his mother, always the overly affectionate one, cuddles him tightly and ruffles his short dark hair; the hair he’s been growing out and grooming differently since getting rid of his Mohawk and trying to hide the gnarly scar on the side of his head.

Then, you’re attacked next, but as you go in to reciprocate her welcoming hug, she keeps you at arm's length instead, her hands planted on your shoulders as she looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly.

Meanwhile, your gaze flickers in confusion between John’s and hers while she keeps scrutinizing you, grasping your chin and tilting your face as she hums to herself.

“Uhm, Rosemary... Good–Good to see you again,” you try tentatively, offering an awkward smile as your arms drop and hang loosely at your sides.

John takes your hand, chuckling nervously, “Ma, dinnae be weird now.”

“Och, dinnae be silly, John! Let yer mum check on her bonnie daughter-in-law.” Rosemary pulls back, her blue eyes sparkling strangely as she flashes a beaming smile before waving her son off dismissively and stepping to the side to usher you both inside.

When John picks up your luggage again, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

The atmosphere inside the big, old house is welcoming and warm, loud and chaotic, as usual. All of John’s four sisters are present with their partners and children, and even some uncles and aunts have been invited with their spouses.

At some point after the sumptuous dinner, when wine, scotch and eggnog flow steadily, and the language barrier between you and your in-law family becomes more apparent again once they all keep slipping into Gaelic, you swiftly find a corner in the living room where you’re able to take a much-needed breather while John is busy entertaining his young nieces and nephews.

Taking a few slow and deep breaths, you try to get rid of the queasy feeling in your stomach that caught you off guard since sitting down at the long dinner table earlier.

Perhaps you are overworked and definitely overwhelmed, unable to relax and unwind after the past couple of months of round-the-clock action; whether it was helping John with his ongoing rehabilitation, the wedding, the following honeymoon, or the countless deployments and field trainings, all while trying to adjust to married life.

You’re happier than you’ve ever been in your life, there is no doubt about that, but it’s been... tough. Even you must admit that to yourself; you’re exhausted.

As you glance down into your half-empty wine glass, you swivel the ruby liquid inside a bit while you feel your mouth suddenly fill with saliva at the lingering sour taste on your tongue. It’s an odd reaction and you swallow thickly, wrinkling your nose before setting the glass on the small side table next to the armchair you’re lounging in.

Suddenly, John appears from the crowd, crouching down in front of the armchair. His stubbly cheeks flushed a pinkish hue from the alcohol, his cerulean eyes gleaming with love as he gazes up at you like a devoted puppy yearning for some praise, “Everythin’ alright, my love?”

You cup his jaw and caress your thumb over the apple of his cheek, giving a curt nod, a small smile playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with half-lidded eyes.

“Just tired, baby.” You repeat the words for the umpteenth time in the past few days it feels.

“Mhm,” John rests his cheek on your knee as you rake your manicured fingers through his short hair and his eyelids flutter briefly as he sighs deeply, “Aye, could take a nap, too.”

John leads you to one of the guest bedrooms upstairs where he’d previously carried the luggage. However, as he switches the light on, you’re met with a peculiar sight.

“Seriously?” You snort, peeking up at John with a raised eyebrow while he rubs the back of his neck, smirking sheepishly and giving a shrug.

“First come, first serve, I guess,” he chuckles, “At least we don’t gotta share our bathroom with anyone.”

You hum, pursing your lips as you nod, “Don’t have to share a bed, either.” You quip, making a vague gesture at the two single beds with Christmas themed bed sheets, separated by a wide bedside table.

“Och, we’ll make do,” John snickers, pulling you into his side and grabbing a handful of your left ass cheek over the wool dress you’re wearing before leaning down to bury his nose in your neck, “Jus’ like the good ol’ days back at the barracks, baby.”

He nips at your neck, making you giggle as you tilt your head and lift your shoulder, trying to shield yourself from his playful ministrations.

“You mean the days when you’d begged me to let you into my bed?”

John lets out a mock scoff, straightening up and rolling his broad shoulders after letting go of your ass cheek with one last squeeze, “I never had to beg ye.”

The both of you know that it's a blatant lie.

He clears his throat, “Wanna bet it’s gonna be ye who asks ta move the beds together? Whining for cuddles an’ kisses from yer man like a wee lassie?”

You pout at him, brows setting in a feigned frown as you sidestep him with your arms crossed over your chest petulantly, “You’re on, MacTavish,” you huff, “–and you’re so gonna lose this bet.”

“Winner gets a nice treat, aye?” He suggests with a boyish grin, following you into the bedroom.

After unpacking together and settling in, John leaves you to have one more drink with his father downstairs while the rest of his family is either leaving and bidding their goodbyes or retreating to the other guest bedrooms.

And while you can barely keep your eyes open as you change into your pyjamas, brush your teeth and go through your nightly routine in the adjacent bathroom, you feel simultaneously too exhausted and unable to find sleep as you finally lay in your assigned single bed.

This restlessness feels strange, and you must actively keep yourself from tossing and turning on the mattress as you lay in the darkness alone. You even go through the various sleeping techniques which you’ve learned on duty, the ones that have helped you catch some shuteye on missions in the past, though to no avail.

Your eyes are burning behind your eyelids whenever you shut them, and your mind can’t seem to quiet. You’re terribly aware of your heartbeat, the soreness of your limbs and the queasiness in your gut, and in this moment, you can’t help but yearn for your husband’s presence; for him to slip under the covers behind you and his large, strong hands to roam and touch your body in a way that distracts you from this discomfort you find yourself in.

Time passes, and while you’re still unable to fall asleep, you’ve manage to turn your mind off by focusing on the various sounds in the house; deep voices engaged in conversation downstairs, the flushing of toilets, the dull footsteps of someone walking up or down the stairs–

You’re lying on your side, facing the wall, the pillow hugged to your chest with your head flat on the mattress, and your eyes shut as you’re simply dozing, when the door to the bedroom creaks open and John staggers inside clumsily.

There’s a pause before the door clicks and locks again, and you know he’s checking if you’re asleep, so you play along and stay still. You expect him to fold, to come crawling into your bed and lose the bet, and the thought of him desperately pawing at your flimsy pyjamas to get to your goodies, makes your lower tummy flutter with excitement and anticipation.

So, you listen as he disappears into the bathroom, how the toilet flushes after he takes a comically long piss, the running of the faucet when he washes his hands and brushes his teeth, all while your heart keeps thudding against your ribcage while you suppress a wicked grin.

When John emerges from the bathroom, he smacks his hand against the light switch, unnecessarily forceful like he always does, and–

Your eyes blink open, eyebrows furrowing, when he walks past your bed to slip into his with a low grunt. The single mattress creaks under his weight, the covers rustle as gets comfortable, sniffling and smacking his lips like a dog getting ready for the best sleep in his life.

And just when you want to turn around to make your wakefulness known, your breath stutters in your chest as you hear him spitting – presumably into his palm.

You don’t know how long you’ve been holding your breath for, frozen in place as you listen to the slick sound of his hand stroking his cock, but it’s been long enough to have your own body react to it as your thighs squeeze together discreetly, wetness spreading between your folds as you try to get friction on your pulsating clit while your heart feels heavy in your chest.

Suddenly, you’re going through a myriad of emotions and it’s something you haven’t experienced before. You feel aroused, excited, betrayed, sad, angry, frustrated, disappointed – and it’s all too much when the sound of John’s husky groan and shallow breaths reach your ears.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me – John.” You mutter, saying his name louder as you perk up in your bed, glancing over your shoulder at him in the darkness and barely able to make out his silhouette.

“Are you seriously jerking off right now?”

John sputters, his movements stilling before he has the audacity to bark out a laugh, “Ah, I didnae ken ye’re awake.” His Scottish brogue is more apparent now, his deep voice a little breathless.

“Yeah, well... I am!” You hiss, sitting up fully and leaning against the headboard of your bed, blood boiling and heating up your cheeks with agitation and before you know it, your eyes start stinging and welling up with fat tears while your bottom lip wobbles.

“Woah, wait–” He chuckles, though more in confusing than disbelief as he tries to interpret your reaction, “Are ye... mad at me for havin’ a lil’ wank?” His thick brows draw together as he listens intently, his cock still throbbing in his fist.

You sniffle, shoulders trembling with restraint as you wipe furiously at your eyes and cheeks, though the first tears have already slipped and stained your sleepshirt. It’s so out of character for you. Normally, you would simply tease him for this. Hell, you have a great sex life together; have rubbed one out next to him just to rile him up in the past. This should be nothing to you, but for no other apparent reason than a matter of principle, it is, and you can’t stop your mouth from blurting out more words.

“Y’know, it’s just funny to me that–that you actually seem to be enjoying this bet and ugh separation between–between us,” you babble, ignoring logic in favour of the cocktail of raging emotions wreaking havoc inside you.

“What? No! Baby, please, I–” John stammers, becoming more confused and overwhelmed with each hiccup and sob coming from your bed from the other side of the room, “Ye’re the love of my life, please–” He tucks his still semi-hard cock back into his boxer briefs before scrambling on his mattress to turn on the lamp on the bedside table.

When the bedroom is illuminated by the lamp’s warm light, John immediately sobers up as he assesses the strange situation, and his stomach drops as he spots you curled up on the single bed, hugging your knees and muffling your sobs. He can’t count on one hand the times he’s seen you cry, so this is more than alerting.

“Ach, fuck this bloody bet.” John huffs and in an instant, he’s up on his feet and nearly flinging himself onto your bed; strong arms cooping you up in an embrace as he shifts you around until he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, cradling your shivering form against his chest.

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye’re really scarin’ me right now,” he mutters against the crown of your head, nuzzling your hair as he rocks you gently, “Can ye tell me what’s goin’ on, hm? Please?”

“Fuck, I–I don’t know,” you wail and whine into his bare chest, coarse dark hair scratching against your face as you try to burrow deeper into his embrace, all while his bulky arms tighten around you like steel rods, “I just... I need you.”

And then, when you shift and climb into his lap to hump and grind your clothed pussy against his upper thigh, John gets really confused.

He blinks dumbly, “So... ye’re not mad at me? Ye’re jus’... horny?” His cock twitches in his briefs when you bite your puffy bottom lip and choke back a keening moan.

“Shut up,” you whinge, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as he surveys your odd behavior with a mixture of amusement and concern, once he’s sure you’re not sick or hurt.

John chuckles huskily, his hands trailing down to grasp your hips, “Should’a said some, hen.” He purrs as he tugs on the hem of your sleepshirt teasingly before pulling it up over your head when you lift your arms up obediently.

His pupils dilate as soon as his eyes drink in the sight of your pretty tits. When his hands trace up your stomach, he can feel your skin pebble with goosebumps, and when his thumbs trace the underside of your naked breasts, he notices your slight wince while your cute nipples stiffen instantly, making his mouth water at the sight like Pavlov’s trained mutt.

“Sensitive tonight, are we?”

You swat at his biceps meekly, letting out the most pathetic little whine that has John’s heart thudding and his cock chuff to full mast. This is so unlike you, and it makes him reel internally.

“Fuckin’ hell, ye’re killin’ me here. I need a taste of ye, love.” He mutters under his breath and leans in to kiss you deeply, all teeth and tongue, before he picks you up and manhandles you like some ragdoll until you’re lying on your back underneath him, gazing up with a desperate, pleading look in your glossy, bright doe-eyes.

You help him take off your pyjama pants next, movements sluggish as you burn up with desire and need while John nudges your legs apart before settling between your thighs, getting in position like a sniper on a mission.

John holds your upper thighs in a firm grip, keeping them spread for him as he drags his nose from your crack up your wet slit, parting your folds and inhaling the familiar scent of your arousal deeply as he goes, though it somehow seems more intoxicating as ever. And the first taste of your cunt has his mind go berserk, synapsis firing in the most primal part in his brain as he swallows hard and growls against your folds.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your whimpers, “Oh...god... Johnny.”

You taste absolutely divine and you’re practically gushing from your little hole like never before as John drapes your legs over his shoulders, spreads your velvety folds with his fingers and starts licking and suckling on your clit like a madman; completely and utterly possessed by you as he slurps and laps up your slick arousal, making sure not a drop goes to waste.

The first orgasm hits you hard and leaves your pussy convulsing almost painfully as white-hot pleasure wrecks through your flushed body; making your toes curl and your back arch off the mattress while those dull throbs of pleasure-pain have you begging for Johnny’s thick fingers to fill you up. And he eagerly complies by plunging both middle and ring finger into your dripping cunt while the feeling of his thick, golden wedding band stimulating your entrance has your eyes roll back into your skull.

Your doting husband eats you out for what feels like hours, way past the soreness of his own jaw, until you’re nothing but a limp, twitching mess on the narrow mattress, and even then, he doesn’t let up.

“Can’t stop, baby,” he grunts against your swollen clit, his voice muffled by your slick flesh as he pumps and curls his fingers inside your fluttering channel, “Ye taste too fuckin’ good.”

Clutching the steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee between your palms, you stifle another yawn as you sit at the kitchen table before you catch the significant glance John shoots in your direction, a prideful smirk tugging at his lips and his chest puffed out even more than usual as he converses with one of his brothers-in-law.

Yes, you’re tired, but at least you know why today. Smiling to yourself, you hide it by taking a sip of your coffee.

“Havin�� a good mornin’, Mrs. MacTavish?”

Your eyes flicker up when John’s mother sets a full plate of breakfast in front of you. An array of bacon and eggs, sausage, baked beans, toast and fried mushrooms – a sight that had your mouth water in the past but your nose wrinkle in the present.

“Cannae stand the smell, eh?” The older woman chuckles, patting your back affectionately, “Jus’ wait fer the morning sickness, lass.”

As you gaze up at her in confusion, you catch that same strange and gleeful twinkle from yesterday in her eyes. Your eyes narrow slightly, “I’m sorry, Rosemary, but what are you talking about? You’ve been dropping hints like that since last night.”

Rosemary clicks her tongue and raises a dark eyebrow as if surprised you haven’t caught on yet before she reaches into the pocket of her apron and then takes one of your wrists to shove something that feels like a pencil into your palm.

“I kept them around when my daughters got married,” she explains softly, though it confuses you even more until you look down at the object in your palm, “I ken this would be the biggest Christmas present for Johnny... and for all of us, too.”

Your stomach drops and your eyes widen as you stare at the pregnancy test.

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap #tf 141 #cod:mw #cod advent calendar 2024 #johnny mactavish #reader insert

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mockerycrow · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request just some comfort Fluff with soap? Maybe him just being at home with the reader and finally being about to fully relax

— love your writing 🤍

MINE, OH MINE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist — 808 words

a/n: I had actually gotten two of this request, so 🐤 anon, this is for you, too!!! i apologize for my slowness lol this is also short </3

[WARNINGS: None, domestic fluff!]

Johnny has always loved the mornings after he arrives home to you. Of course, he loves that first near rib breaking hug you give each other—he loves the slow and thankful unsteady kiss you share at the front door with his duffel bag at your feet. Johnny loves the way you run your fingers through his messy mohawk during the sweet kiss, the way you lean and melt into him so naturally.

He loves the way you tremble; like you can’t believe he’s with you and he isn’t looking at you through a facetime call. Johnny adores the way you basically refuse to leave his side the rest of the night, barely giving him enough space for him to use the restroom by himself. He doesn’t mind though, because he knows he’s the exact same way. You are clingy the first two days whilst he is clingy all the way up until he has to leave again; neither of you mind.

Johnny loves the way you wear his clothes while he’s away, the way he sees more of his own laundry than yours in the laundry basket by the washing machine down the hall in the laundry room. Johnny loves the way it’s clear when he steps into the bedroom to put his bag away, you hog his side of the bed. He appreciates your insistence on helping him take a bath, his pajamas already in your arms. You know how to massage the knots out of his shoulders and back, you know the exact pattern on how to stroke his hair and tickle his neck to make him incredibly still. Johnny loves the way you’re concerned about his eyes when washing your hair, cupping right about his forehead to prevent any possible droplets of soap to drip down into his tear ducts. Johnny loves that you care enough to squeeze his hair at his hairline to keep it from dripping down his face.

Johnny loves the way you allow him to rub your back once he’s out of the bath and properly dressed; you’re sitting on the bed with the Scot sitting behind you, his legs crossed as his big and rough hands press against the tense muscles of your back through your his shirt. He loves the way you sigh with your lips closed from being content, the way you instinctually lean back into his touch, the way his thumbs press into your shoulder muscles and rub them in circles to relieve the tension that has most certainly built up, deep in your bones and tissue. He loves the way you tilt your head when he peppers soft kisses to your shoulder, leading up to your neck.

What Johnny loves the most, though, is waking up next to you after these nights together, after returning from deployment and missions. He loves waking up with his nose buried into your shoulder with an arm wrapped around you, the other under his own head for comfort. Johnny loves waking up with his head buried in your chest, or maybe your head is buried in his. He loves waking up to see you still sleeping, your lips parted ever so slightly in your sleep, your face devoid of stress and anxiety. If you snore, the man very much treasures every noise coming from you; it’s a sign of life, and he would fall asleep to the sound of it every night if he could.

Johnny likes to run his fingers against your brow ridge and then down your temple to your jaw, his fingertips sliding against your pulse for a moment, just feel your heart go ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. Sometimes on a rare occasion, you’ll wake before him; which is how he found out you watch him sleep. Of course Johnny isn’t upset when his eyes flutter open and the first thing they do is lock onto yours. He finds out you wait for him to wake up like he waits for you, admiring his face, his chin scar, his hair. You look at him like there’s nothing else in the world and that makes his chest so tight and gooey.

He likes it when you mumble “I can’t understand you” in the mornings, the grogginess thickening his accent. Johnny likes your little smile when his voice rumbles in the morning, the sound penetrating deep into your chest and staying there. Johnny likes it when you kiss him in the morning, despite the fact that his morning breath has always been worse than yours. He likes it when you cup the back of his head in these morning kisses—all he can think about is you, you, you. Johnny likes it when you insist on staying in bed for a bit longer, despite your alarm for work having already gone and past.

Yeah, Johnny loves coming home to you, alright.

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carefreecoffee · 28 days ago

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Hi Neighbor!: Aizawa Shouta x readerˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Word count: 1.8k, Gender neutral reader

You knew that living on your own wasn't going to be easy at first. Moving in, making friends, finishing paperwork, all of it had finally caught up to you. As the weeks eased in and the weather got warmer, you increasingly found those hardships to have become fruitless. Their meaning no longer evident as you happily walked up to your floor, fishing your keys out of your pocket.

As you lift your head, a yellow paper is seen hanging on the front of your door, bold letters harboring it.

“TENANTS!!

PLEASE REGARD THE FOLLOWING RULES AND REGULATIONS…”

You quirk a brow, reading over the lists. He was basically pitching a rant through the ink, talking about rent increases if any of the following were to continue. Noise, damage, even new utility fees.

The hell!? This was not the first time he's done this but it would be the last time you'd put up with it.

As you look over the paper once more, you can hear footsteps approaching, possibly another tenant. They stop behind you, you peek over to see what you assumed to be your neighbor across the hall holding the same yellow paper in his hand.

You had never been able to properly introduce yourself to him, he had always seemed so reserved and distant. A small grunt leaves his chest as he reads. You decide to clear your throat after a moment, facing him slightly.

“...bullshit, right?”

All he does is nod in response, folding the paper up and headinging inside of his apartment.

Quite reserved…too reserved. You knew you could crack him one of these days.

About a week goes by before that eye sore of a yellow paper seems to make it back to your door. You groan, ripping it off and staring at it intently. All you needed when getting off of work was a nice hot bath and your comfort food. No this. Apparently people had been disregarding the “rules”, Yeah right. Like a landlord could legally make you do anything listed.

In your silent frustration, it seems your neighbor had arrived at his home once more, taking off the paper and glancing at you, noticing how deep you were in your frustration.

“You were right”

You perk your head up curiously, meeting the man's gaze. You had never been able to get a good look at him until now but damn was he a sight to behold. A sharp jaw, even sharper eyes, dark hair disheveled but actually kinda suited him and a rather sizable scar under his eye. Curious..

You tilt your head, “Right about what?”

He looks down at the paper, “It's bullshit.” You stand there in silence, Did he really just quote you from days ago?? So he was listening..

You nod eagerly, “Exactly! Who does this guy think he is? Can't even come home in peace, y’know?” You make eye contact with him once more, folding the paper absentmindedly between your fingers.

You notice the slight tilt of a grin surrounded by his rough stubble. All he replies with is a quaint ‘yeah’ before returning into his apartment.

You were getting closer, you knew it. You wouldn't pressure him but would it really hurt to get to know eachother better? Maybe this landlord fiasco would be your in.

As you're making your way up your complex stairs, you notice the man from before standing there in the hall. He must've gotten there before you. You wave with a quick hello, hoping to garner his attention one way or another. He doesn't reply, it wasn't unusual but it ticked you off a bit. Looking over his shoulder slightly, you notice a blue slip now in his grasp. Low and behold, it's on your door as well.

You swipe it off, not caring of the condition. It seems that nothing has gotten better, the landlord being more like a land demon at this point reeking havoc on your paychecks. It wasn't your guys’ fault that the utilities and expenses were shitty, maybe he should take better responsibility of his complex and maybe-

“I think your slip has taken enough hits” You’re cut out of your thinking by the sound of the man's voice breaking the silence. You glance at him quizzically, “Huh?”

He nods down towards the blue paper in your tight grasp, “You’ve been staring daggers into it for a couple minutes now.” Oh god did he see that?! You quickly compose yourself. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. This land lord is gonna be the death of me though, maybe even my paycheck”

He stifles a chuckle, you immediately look over at the strictly stoic man in front of you. A small grin makes its way to your face from the sound, you’ve finally cracked him…at least to some degree.

“Seriously. This guy does not know how to back off.” He crumples the paper in his grasp, unlocking his apartment door. You hum in agreement, going to unlock your own door as well before turning to the man. “Hey, i never caught your name”

He turns around, black strands of hair slightly obscuring his face as he grumbles out, “...Aizawa”

You nod, a small smile gracing your face. “L/N, nice to finally make your acquaintance, Aizawa”

He’s silent for a moment, giving you a curt nod as he enters his home. You sighed, walking into your apartment and kicking your shoes off. It was tough, though knowing you had made some sort of progress with the rugged man gave your heart an elated sensation, and maybe one day it’ll be easier to catch his attention.

Its been a couple days, whenever you had come home it seems he was already there in his own and vice versa, like your paths were rarely meeting. The smell of the food you were preparing for dinner filled the dim air in your apartment, it had been the one day you had off of work and damnit if you weren’t going to enjoy the hell out of it.

As you turned down the heat on the stove, a pert knock was heard on your door. You set the stove down to the lowest setting and put the lid over it, “One moment, please!” Your voice rang in reference to the door, quickly cleaning off your hands and looking through the peephole.

It was.. Aizawa? Well, now this was quite unusual, he had never approached you directly before so why now?

You opened the door to be met with his face, “Hey Aizawa-Kun, something the matter?” You leaned on the doorway, taking in his usual cold demeanor. He had his arms crossed, long black tee and pants as usual; what's new?

Aizawa looks up and down the hallway before looking back at you, his hair hiding his eyes as usual. He lets out a small sigh before speaking, "Can I come in for a minute?" You nod, “Oh yeah, of course” You move out of the way, letting him in. As he enters, he immediately takes note of the smell of food coming from the kitchen. He takes a moment to look around your apartment before speaking again

"You were in the middle of cooking?"

You look over to the kitchen, waving it off. “Oh yeah, don't worry, it's just simmering.” You cross your arms and look at him curiously “Sooo, what's up?”

"Well..." He hesitates for a moment, his hand going up to his hair and gripping some strands as his eyes glance at the ground before looking back at you. "You see... I'm... I'm moving out soon..."

Your face drops slightly at the statement, taken aback by the declaration. “Oh” That's all you could muster. You weren’t too close with him but you can't lie that you were getting used to his usual small talk. He nods his head slowly and lets go of the strands of hair in his hand. "Yes... I already found another place to stay but I wanted to keep in touch with you.”

Your head perks up at that. Keep in touch with you?? After all of his one-offs and solemn demeanor, you didn't think he’d actually want to get to know you more like you did with him.

He notices how you perk up when he mentions keeping in touch with you and feels some relief. He runs a hand through his hair again and nods. "Yes. We didn't get to know each other that much since we only really spoke a few times and well...I enjoyed the little conversations we had and I was hoping we could continue talking even though I won't be living next to you anymore.."

Part of you was jumping with glee, feeling straight out of a slice of life manga- but no, you can't get ahead of yourself. You barely know him, you talked a few times and maybe he was just that interesting but…but… damnit.

“Yes! Of course! I-i mean yeah totally” You scramble over to your living room, grabbing your phone off of the table and handing it to him, contacts open. You swear you saw a hint of a smirk on his face as he took the device from you, punching in his numbers and handing it abc. You quickly made his contact and nodded. “I’ll text you in a bit so you have my number, ‘kay?”

Your eagerness was met with his usual calm and stoic demeanor, you didn't care about it now because you learned it's a part of him. There was nothing more to earn than his attention. He nods, opening the door slightly. “I’ll look out for it”

The small grin on your face never fades, holding your phone in your slightly sweaty palm, “I hope your moving goes well!” You move to hold the door open as he leaves, waving to him as he enters his almost-former apartment.

Closing the door, you couldn't help but take in the interaction. Did that just happen? Are you hallucinating? You walk back to the kitchen, taking the lid off of the food and putting the heat up.

You glance at your phone, seeing his contact ‘Aizawa’. Nope, not dreaming. You text hastily.

“Hi! It's L/N from across the hall, making sure you have my number!”

You set the phone back down as if it were on fire. Was that too straightforward? You stir the food. Was that too preppy? The food sizzles slightly on the pan. Should you have- ‘ping!’

You pick up the phone quickly, the light illuminating your eager expression.

“Got it, thank you L/N.”

“If you are wanting to, i would like to take you to the cafe just down the road.”

Now you were shitting bricks. Duh! Of course you would! You’d love nothing more!

“Sounds awesome! Let's plan it one of these days :)”

Now you felt as if you didn't have to worry about how excited you were, in this moment you could care less just knowing he was thinking about you in his own, Aizawa way. To say you ate in peace was an understatement, the prospect of hanging out with the solemn man on what could realistically be called a date made the food somehow taste 100x better. Maybe even 100,000x.

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