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florencemtrash · 10 months ago

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In a year's time - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst, jealous Azriel, fluff

Masterlist of Masterlists

"But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him."

Mor narrowed her eyes at the Shadowsinger, watching as he adjusted the collar of his newly tailored suit jacket and then combined his hair back with scarred fingers.

Azriel had always been annoyingly beautiful - even during their middling years when their voices cracked and they hadn’t yet grown into their long, slender limbs - and so he’d never needed to take special care of his appearance. His hair dried in perfect waves, his skin was smooth and clean despite the scars, and his training had carved out a silhouette as strong and capable as it was alluring. So why did he keep smoothing down his waistcoat like he was nervous?

Mor darted out a tongue, cleaning up the drop of wine that threatened to fall from her ruby red lips, “Azriel? What in the Mother’s name are you doing?”

His eyes barely flicked over to where she lay sprawled out on his bed. She had no intention of attending this ball sober, and if the near empty bottle of wine balanced precariously against her knee was any indication, she would exceed her goal before they even stepped outside his bedroom.

He picked up the tie - midnight blue and hand-embroidered with silver thread - and flung it around his neck.

“Getting ready for the ball.” He answered blandly.

She rolled her eyes, “Obviously,” then continued to stare at him expectantly as he finished knotting the tie, folded his pocket square, and then slid his weapons into place as a last measure, cobalt blue siphons flashing from the backs of his hands.

It clicked all at once as he strolled for the door, forcing Mor to abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

“Oh my gods.” She said, mouth agape. Her shoes clicked along the marble floors of the River House like the beating of drums.

Azriel groaned internally. Even tipsy and wearing seven-inch heels, Mor kept up with his long strides easily, prodding his side accusingly with her wine bottle. It magically refilled itself with every jab.

“You’re trying to impress Y/n!”

Suddenly it was as obvious as the sun rising in the east. He’d chosen the tie you complimented him on last Starfall, despite his hatred of its fanciful nature. He was wearing the silver moonstone cufflinks you’d bought him for his birthday. He’d even combed his hair because he knew you’d notice and muss it up for him.

“Mor-” He warned, color beginning to dust his cheeks. His shadows darted around the hallway, climbing the velvet curtains and peering around the corners to watch for any potential eavesdropping.

“I knew it! I knew it!” She said, swatting him with a frustrated hand. Her red silk dress clung to her waist and thighs before fluttering out in a halo around her knees as she chased after him, aiming to slap him across the head.

Azriel stopped in his tracks and grabbed at her wrists, desperately hoping no one else in the house had left their rooms yet. If he was really lucky, the two mated couples would be making enough noise of their own to drown out Mor’s excitement.

“Mor, stop it. And be quiet.”

“You loooove her.” She crowed, dragging out the sound. Suddenly she straightened up, hands on her hips and frowning, “Is that why you’ve been so irritable lately? Because you miss her?”

Azriel said nothing, gave away nothing, even though Mor had hit the nail on the head in her drunken stupor.

It had been a great honor when Thesan offered to take you under his wing and train you personally. More than a favor to Rhysand, he’d seen your healing talent and wanted your expertise to be well represented in the Dawn Court. So a year ago you’d packed up your things and said your goodbyes.

“It’s only temporary.” You’d promised him, “I’ll be back before you know it. In a year’s time.”

But a lot could change in a year. You’d sent plenty of letters back and forth to each other, and Azriel would be loath to admit that he slept with them clutched against his chest every night so whispers of your scent would chase the nightmares away.

But for all he knew you could have fallen for some dashing golden warrior, or found that you preferred your shiny, new friends over him - that you’d found a quieter city full of fae that stole your heart as well as your attention away from him.

He was happy for you and had been the one to encourage you to move to Dawn. But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you terribly. You’d been missing from his side like a torn limb, and Azriel had been walking through life at a crooked angle ever since.

“I don’t-” He sighed, he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love you. He just couldn’t, “It’s none of your business, Mor.” He amended.

He released her wrists breezed past her, but she sprinted ahead of him, splaying her limbs out on the staircase to block his path.

“You need to tell her you love her. Tonight.” She commanded. Her words slurred out gently, the faerie wine finally kicking in when she’d wanted it to. “I mean it, Az.”

He shook his head, “I can’t tell her tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t seen her in a year! I can’t drop that kind of truth on her.”

“Yes you can!” She fought back. There was some muddled piece of information hanging at the edges of her mind, something important she needed to tell Az. But the wine held it back. Fuck. She cursed inwardly.

“No. I. Can’t.”

“Yes. You. Can.” She was practically seething, pearly brown eyes unfocused but unrelenting. She knows something I don’t, Azriel realized in a burst of shock.

“What is it, Mor? What did she tell you?”

She blinked, dropping her arms from the burnt umber railings. His heart quickened. Had his worst fears come true? Had you found someone else in Dawn worth staying for?

“I-” Damn it. She shouldn’t have finished the second bottle. She cradled it protectively against her chest, feeling the glass cool her hot skin, “I don’t fucking remember.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

“I mean, I’m drunk, Az. And drunk Mor doesn’t remember shit.”

His heart quickened further, a crushing sense of guilt and loss wrapping around his chest like a corset and tightening. Mor at least was saved from further useless interrogation when Rhysand and Feyre bounded out from down the hallway, tastefully disheveled and looking sinful in Night Court black.

Rhysand cleared his throat, straightening his dinner jacket and absent-mindedly straightening Feyre’s crown for her, “Everyone ready to leave?” His eyes glazed over, calling out to the last missing members of their party.

Cassian and Nesta spilled out of their room next, the braids of her coronet slipping out and spilling over her heaving chest. Azriel tipped his head to the ceiling and cursed silently. Mother have mercy…

Nesta pulled up on the strap of her lace dress, only to find that it had been torn to ribbons.

Cassian was in no better shape - the collar of his white shirt was smeared with lipstick, although he didn’t have the same sense as Nesta to look annoyed at the interruption to their… activities. A toothy grin bloomed on his face, shoulder-length hair tangled like someone had been yanking it for hours.

“Can’t make it tonight, Rhys.” He said. He glanced down at Nes, “I’m not feeling well.”

“Me neither.” Nesta said hastily, slipping back behind the door and hauling Cassian inside with her like he weighed as light as a feather. Four months after their mating ceremony and they were as insatiable as ever.

“You’re full of shit, Cass!” Rhys called out just before the door slammed shut. A muffled Fuck you! Came from within, followed by a, Tell Y/n we’ll see her at home! From Nesta.

They winnowed to the outskirts of Daybreak Hill, landing in a field of cushiony moss dotted with pink and violet heather that stirred in the breeze like the dusk-painted clouds above.

Feyre sighed deeply, breathing in the scent of lavender and rosewater. She loved Velaris and no one could hold a candle to the beauty of the Night Court… except perhaps Dawn.

It was like someone had laid a mirror flat on the earth. Periwinkle skies kissed rolling sage green hills dotted with red-roofed villages and sank into lakes of pearl and lavender until it was impossible to tell where the sky started or ended.

The Dawn Court Palace’s twisting spires of honey marble glowed brighter than the setting sun. So brightly in fact that Mor had to help shield Azriel’s eyes with her soft hands as he carried them up through low-hanging satin clouds. Dots of scarlet and midnight black soaring through cotton skies.

His hands turned clammy and the tightness in his chest felt like a giant’s fist squeezing his heart, but he convinced himself it was the thin air that was responsible, and not the raging longing in his heart for you. Still, he had to appreciate the beauty of the red-roofed villages below, tinkering hands hard at work inside chestnut workshops filled with glistening bronze and copper.

They dove through the columns into the open-air hall, any dampness from the mist magicked away by Thesan’s careful hands as he stepped down from the golden dias to greet his honored guests. His rich, copper-colored skin radiated light, melting with the darkness that rippled off Rhysand and Feyre’s shoulders as they shook hands and exchanged the usual pleasantries.

Mor stretched her silky arms above her hands, catching the eyes of a cherub-faced female reaching to grab a flute from the champagne tower. Normally, Mor would have been flattered, but with Emerie at home and a wine-drunk haze over her mind, she was feeling more anxious than anything else. What the fuck was it that she was trying to remember?

Faelights bloomed above him, tinkered in the shapes of roses that gently pulsed, fluttering petals propelling them across the room in a sway of light.

But Azriel was barely paying attention. His eyes skimmed the crowd, searching for a silhouette he knew as intimately as the ridges of his hands.

There.

You stood across the room, half-hidden in the stone archway beside Thesan’s lover, Herades. You bowed your head towards him in silent conversation, nursing a glass of champagne in your hand to try and cool your nerves. Azriel would be arriving soon, if he wasn’t already here, cradling the walls in search of dark corners like he was bound to do. You’d been imagining all the ways you’d greet him - with a joke, with a meaningful embrace, with a kiss. You shook her head, pushing the last thought out of your mind and focusing on Herades’s story again.

Your laugh was a flare of light blooming at the end of a match. Azriel stared utterly captivated. Time moved slower than syrup when you finally met his eyes and smiled with an affection more precious than gold.

“Az!” You squeezed Herades’s arm, politely excusing yourself, and then you were off. You sprang across the room in a billow of cream fabric, like milk poured into coffee. The tips of your pleated skirts were touched with blue like you’d waded out into the night sky. The color matched the ribbon in your hair, and the siphons of a certain lovestruck Shadowsinger.

“Y/n,” He breathed out. You flowed into his arms and he gathered you into them like a bouquet of wildflowers, breathing in your familiar scent of rosemary and peppermint. Gods I missed you. He whispered in his mind, hoping that somehow you’d hear it at the end of that glowing thread.

But the hug was short-lived. Too short-lived.

“Mor!” You sang in that melodic voice he loved so much, grasping for her next, then Rhys, then Feyre.

Thesan looked on humbly, sighing faintly when Herades caught up to you and immediately slid to Thesan’s side.

“Oh I’ve missed you all so much.” You said, rocking back and forth.

“We missed you,” Feyre said into your hair. She was the one to pull away, smoothing out ribbon and giving you a once-over look.

Your time had been well-spent at the Dawn Court. Extra color bronzed your cheeks and tinted your lips a pale berry shade. You stood up straighter, smiled a little wider, and walked with an extra height to your step. You’d always been beautiful and graceful, but it was like you were aware of it now - like you’d grown the last few inches into your body.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” Feyre said and Mor agreed enthusiastically, commenting on your dress and your hair and your… well everything.

“Thank you,” You said, blushing, “Thesan’s treated me very well.”

That was an understatement. He’d set you up in his personal household, paid you handsomely (even more than Rhysand paid you if that were possible), and had had the royal seamstress sew ten dresses for you to pick from for tonight’s ball alone. It was your party after all in commemoration of the advancements you’d made in child birthing practices. You��d handled twelve pregnancies alone in the past year across Dawn and Winter, all of the children delivered safely and as plump and rosy as summer cherries.

“And you’ve repaid it to my court ten-fold.” Thesan said and held up his drink. Even Herades smiled, tawny feathers flaring out with pride. You were responsible for the safety of his sister-in-law and the birth of his nephew - hawk wings and all.

It was a flurry of activity following the Night Court’s fashionably late arrival. You dragged Azriel and Mor up to the dais after Rhys and Feyre. Traditionally the table was only meant for High Lords and their partners, but Thesan was a unique and progressive leader in more ways than one.

Herades and Thesan sat in the middle with Feyre and Rhysand, leaving you, Azriel, and Mor at one end and Thesan’s sister and her husband at the other.

Azriel was eternally grateful when Mor lunged for the center-most seat, forcing you to sit between her and Azriel. You bumped knees with him, leaning close as you whispered about the Court gossip you’d managed to overhear from the cooks or discussing the progress you’d made in the Winter Court.

Course after course appeared in front of him and disappeared, hardly touched. He wasn’t hungry for anything other than you, focusing on the crease within your brows as you tried to remember all the news you couldn’t write to him about or the twist of your perfect, flushed lips as you displayed your displeasure and your joy.

If he believed himself to be worthy of your affection he would have whisked you away hours ago, disappearing into whichever room in the palace was yours and pressing you against the wall, lip-locked until the need for air forced him to stop.

“How are Kallias and Viviane doing?” Mor asked, perking up at the mention of the Winter Court.

You smiled, your cheeks flushing with color, “I’m not supposed to say, Mor, so you must promise not to tell anyone. Anyone.” Mor locked her mouth and threw away the key. Your lips brushed against the sharp curve of her ear, “She’s pregnant.”

Mor clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly upsetting the glass of wine balanced precariously on the edge of the table. One of Azriel’s shadows darted out, pushing it safely out of the way of her swaying arms.

“Stop.” She hissed in disbelief. Her golden hair seemed to brighten with her cheeks.

You nodded, “With twins.”

Tears flooded her eyes, “That wench didn’t tell me.”

“She’s been busy, if you can imagine.”

“Still!” Mor muttered under her breath, eating her food slowly and sipping on her wine quickly. She gave up on being sober the more males approached her from the base of the dais, bowing deeply with proud, puffed up chests and asking for a dance. Word had gone around about her… preferences, and far from dissuading suitors, it seemed to have been offered up as a challenge as to who could change her mind. Thank the gods Emerie had declined the invitation to join them. She would have castrated half these males in an instant, if Mor didn’t beat her to it.

Thesan, gratefully, put an end to it once he caught onto the pattern. One sharp look from him sent them scampering back, coattails between their legs.

There was one final male though who ignored the previous warnings, humbly bleeding out of the crowd as remnants of rose cake disappeared from the tables and the quartet swelled to include twelve musicians plus a singer. Full, cream-colored wings hovered above the ground, tawny-tipped and lush. Even Mor had to admit, with his olive skin, amber eyes, and warm honey curls he was stunning. Like liquid gold poured out of the setting sun.

He bowed deeply, a subtle smile on his face. Azriel went rigid, seeing you lean forward out of the corner of his eye with a blush coating your cheeks.

Mor closed her eyes and groaned. Fuuuuuuuck. That’s what she’d forgotten about. Or rather whom she’d forgotten about.

Naemon - the golden boy who’d begun to court you seven months back. You’d dropped his name only a handful of times in your letters to Mor. Not enough times to convince Mor you were actually taken with him, but enough times for her to remember the bastard’s name.

“Y/n,” His voice was silky smooth and kind, “May I have the first dance with you?” He asked politely.

Your breath caught in your throat and you risked a glance over at Azriel. He looked… bored and unaffected. He reached for his glass, looking more interested in the faerie wine than the male who’d just asked for your hand. It was stupid of you to think he would care for you as anything more than a friend, and even more foolish of you to think he might be jealous.

You pushed away from the table and floated down the dais, taking the strong and sturdy hand Naemon offered you. The first song was too spirited and quick to reveal any true feelings. It was a blur of silks and lean arms as you wove through the sea of dancers and were gently tossed from partner to partner. But the second song was slower, more intimate. Naemon flashed a look of gratitude to the singer, who winked in return, before scooping one arm around your waist, hand flat on the small of your back. You rested one hand on his shoulder, feeling the rolling of muscle beneath his crisp linen tunic, and held his free hand.

Naemon was a kind and gentle male. After the death of his parents, he’d all but raised his younger sister Namia on his own, relying on the money he earned in the Peregryn legion to make ends meet. It was his care for his sister that had first drawn him to you - any misgivings he’d had melting away as you grew close to Namia from among the other healers. You’d supported her throughout her pregnancy, become her friend, and served as a balm to his anxieties whenever his duties took him away for long stretches of time.

You looked down bashfully, apologizing for missing one of the dance steps and crushing his toe, “I’m better at the quicksteps.” You explained.

Naemon smiled brilliantly, and you couldn’t stop the faint flutter in your chest, “I can’t blame you. The slow ones can get boring. Leaves too much time for overthinking.”

“Exactly.” Too much time for overthinking about a certain Shadowsinger.

You’d never given Naemon any false pretenses about your feelings, always reminding him and Namia that your position in Dawn was temporary. But still… It felt nice to be courted by someone as open as him. With Naemon you never had to guess whether he wanted you or not - you knew he did. The flowers he often left in the healer’s temple, or the offers to take you out to dinner or to dances like this one proved it.

A curl of guilt coiled in your stomach. Maybe now was a good time to bow out and return to your seat. Surely the slow waltz would be finishing soon. The-

“You’re overthinking again.” Naemon said, his full lips brushing against the sharp curve of your ear and heating the gold cuffs you wore. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, Y/n. If you’re enjoying yourself - if you like dancing with me - keep doing it.”

“Naemon-” You began apologetically.

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” He said honestly, “I just want to dance with you tonight. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You stared into his eyes, finding nothing but truth in them. A portion of your nerves melted away and you found that when the cello began to hum out a simple tune, you were still holding onto him and letting him move you through the next movements.

Azriel was barely holding on by a thread. Wine glass now empty and clenched dangerously between shadow covered hands. Rhys shot him a look, and when his attempts to breach his brother’s mental shields were met with resistance, he turned to Mor.

What’s wrong with him? His eyes flashed the question.

He’s being an ass who can’t come to terms with his emotions. Mor grumbled back, sinking into her seat with a fling of yellow-gold waves.

Rhys’s eyes went from confused to wide open as he shot a look to you across the dance floor. Fuck.

Feyre followed her mate’s attention with a look of concern, and then traced Azriel’s steely gaze to the dance floor where you were smiling reservedly up at Naemon. You two made a handsome couple, weaving a clear path through the other dancers as they parted for his magnificent feathered wings.

Azriel stiffened. He’d never been particularly proud of his Illyrian heritage, but his wings… his wings were one of the few true beauties he possessed. But in comparison to the golden-boy warrior that smiled at you and brushed back a loose strand of hair with his soft hands, Azriel found himself lacking… once again.

Naemon was a gentle breeze where Azriel was blistering wind. He was a wide open door, every look he gave you filled with clear affection. Azriel was a dozen locked boxes, each one nestled within the other with all the keys rusted and thrown away. Naemon looked reserved and in control. Azriel felt completely out of it, and it took every inch of willpower to keep the mating bond from driving him mad enough to launch across the dancefloor and bruise Naemon’s high, perfect cheekbones.

But then the dance ended and Naemon parted from you long enough to reach behind his back and pluck a feather from his wing. A few shocked gasps scattered throughout the room. Even Thesan and Herades looked on with raised eyebrows, leaning close enough to touch.

The feather was a beauty - the length of Naemon’s forearm and such a pure white it glimmered like moonlight. You froze, staring down at the treasure he offered you with bated breath.

Peregryns were fiercely protective of their wings and rightfully so. To be allowed near them alone was a great honor. To touch them was an intimate act reserved for family members and lovers. To be offered a feather?! In some circles it was akin to being gifted a thousand roses. In other circles it was tantamount to a marriage proposal.

Both offers were completely overwhelming to you.

“Naemon-” You began carefully, backing away, “I-I can’t.”

He smiled softly, eyes flashing briefly up to the dias where the Shadowsinger had gotten up to his feet, something like desperation and longing buried deep beneath the layers of his hazel eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/n.” Naemon said resignedly, “But please, take this,” He begged, spreading open your fingers before curling them again around the feather, “For everything you’ve done for my family.”

And because I love you, even if you don’t love me back - were the words he didn’t say aloud.

“Naemon-” A shadow fell over your feet, curling around your ankles and skirts and tugging you away like a child seeking attention.

Naemon, for all his relative youth and gentle disposition, didn’t seem surprised or affected by the Shadowsinger’s presence. Azriel hovered close behind you, eyes blown open and desperate.

Please don’t. He silently begged. Please don’t say yes to him.

He almost melted with relief when Naemon only dipped his head in acknowledgement and kissed the palm of your hands. Even that innocent touch made Azriel’s stomach turn.

You turned when Naemon finally disappeared into the crowd. “Azriel, I-”

You had half a mind to hide the feather behind your back, but you couldn’t do such a cruel thing to Naemon. And it wasn’t like Azriel hadn’t watched the whole thing unfold in front of him. You clasped the feather in your hands, careful not to ruffle the delicate barbs.

Azriel was no longer bored and unaffected. In fact he seemed unnaturally flustered and nervous.

He swallowed thickly, mindful of the curious stares you were attracting. Not only had you just been proposed to, but now you were being approached by a male from your past after an ambiguous response - you’d accepted the feather, but Naemon had left alone. The court gossips would have a field day, if they weren’t already.

“Y/n,” He said, his voice thin and quiet. A mere whisper among the riff raff that was steadily building up again in a crescendo, “Can we please talk?” His wings fluttered nervously, and he shot a dangerous look at a male who came too close to you, “In private? Please?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You’d barely recovered from Naemon’s dramatic display and you were scared about what Azriel might offer next.

Still you mumbled, “Oh-um… yes.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Azriel’s hand was on your wrist, delicately leading you through the crowd towards the archway and into the hallway beyond. Fae mingled about in their finery, happy to escape the music and the sweep of dancers.

Azriel scowled. This was hardly any more private.

“My quarters are further down this hall,” You offered, pointing down a sky bridge that connected the public wings of the palace to the private ones. Azriel exhaled in relief, nodding and following you as you cut through unfamiliar halls draped in rich reds, golds, and turquoises.

You stopped at a door of solid oak, hand painted to look like it had been lifted from the pages of a storybook. Resplendent gold filigree traced the footsteps of maidens running along hills dense with colorful flora. Water trickled down from the mountain tops, so realistic that Azriel was amazed to find the handwoven carpets in your room were dry.

You peered down the hall before closing the door with a gentle whisper. Only the songbirds nesting in the high crevices bore witness to your activities.

You hesitated and then tucked the feather into one of the empty jewelry boxes on the vanity. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

Azriel stood motionless by the door, watching as you closed the box and slid it back against the mirror.

“Did you say yes?” He whispered, hating the way his voice caught in his throat, “Do you love him?”

You turned around quickly, the length of ribbon in your hair rippling through the air to land on your collarbone. Azriel was upon you in an instant close enough for you to feel his shallow breathing, but all he did was trace the blue ribbon with his fingers and then push it back over your shoulder.

“I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered and your face burned with feeling. Azriel had asked you for privacy so he could ask you about Naemon?

Azriel clenched his fists once. Twice. “The male you were dancing with. The feather-”

You blushed deeply, turning your face away to hide your embarrassment. You had hoped he didn’t know about that Peregryn custom.

He gently gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling your gaze back to him. You blinked in surprise. For once Azriel looked… scared.

“Did you say yes to him? Please. Tell me.”

If you had said yes he might just shrivel up into nothing on the spot. Why had he waited so long to tell you his feelings? Why had he waited so long to tell you about the bond? But if he did it now it would just be terrible timing all around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You shook your head and Azriel’s wings dropped in relief, eyes closing as he murmured a quiet thanks to the Mother beneath his breath.

“He-it wasn’t even a real proposal. He gave it to me as thanks for helping his sister. That’s all.”

He gave you a pointed look like he knew you were lying. There was no questioning Naemon’s feelings for you. No questioning at all.

“You never answered my second question.”

You crumpled under his gaze. Gods, he looked beautiful tonight. Torturously so. It wasn’t fair. Naemon had loved you openly, never given you cause to doubt his intentions nor made you feel guilty for not returning his feelings. And yet here you were, still pining after the male who’d never seen you as more than a friend. A male whose intentions were never clear. A male who always made you question how well you knew him, and whether those small touches and reserved smiles and affectionate letters were just a polite kindness or something more.

“No.” It felt wrong of you to admit it so callously, even if it was the truth, “No I don’t love him.”

Azriel looked ready to kiss the ground and something about that set a fire within you. Leave it to Azriel to ignore any romantic advances from you, to chase after other females left and right for literal centuries, and then get upset the moment another male found you appealing.

You huffed, pushing him away harshly and crossing your arms over your chest, “It’s none of your business anyhow. I’m allowed to have my lovers and my almost lovers. And if you truly thought Naemon was proposing to me, I don’t know why you’d want to fucking interrupt it!”

Azriel flinched at the coldness in your voice, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, Az?” You exclaimed, clearly irritated now, “Gods, you never just say what you mean.”

Azriel tried again, grasping at straws. “I would never judge you for your choices, even if you said yes to him or-I just-fuck.”

On any other day you’d be laughing. Azriel was a male of few words, but the words he did say were always perfect and calculated. Nothing about this was calculated or thought out.

“I… you’re my best friend, Y/n. And I haven’t seen you in over a year. I just…” He cringed. Hard. Cauldron boil him. He was doing this terribly, “I was scared.” He finally admitted, and rather pathetically.

“Scared?” You dropped your arms. That wasn’t the answer you’d been expecting, “Scared of what? You’re hardly ever afraid of anything.”

He shrank away, hands clasped tightly behind his back, “That you’d leave me-us. That you’d find a reason to stay here instead of returning to Velaris. And when I saw you dancing with him tonight - the way he was looking at you and the way you were looking at him - I thought… I thought Naemon would be that reason.”

Now you were confused and even more irate than before.

You stalked up to him, jabbing his chest with an accusatory finger, “You were the one who encouraged me to do this. You were the one constantly writing to me about the importance of making friends and “putting myself out there.” You were the one who practically shoved me out the door when I left-”

“Because I thought you wanted this!”

“I did! I-I do!”

“Then what was I supposed to do, Y/n?!” He cried out. His shadows, which had been held back so tightly on a leash throughout the night, exploded outward, coating the bright colors of your bedspread and the rugs and the curtains in inky black. They swirled there, as agitated and timid as their master.

“What was I supposed to do?” He whispered again. He sounded tired. Defeated. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold you back from what you wanted. From the happiness and opportunities you deserve.”

“You could’ve at least said something! You could’ve at least told me that you were upset with me leaving. That you were going to miss me and that you-you-”

That you love me and that you wanted me to stay. You shoved the thought out of your mind, slamming the door and turning the lock. Useless, lovestruck pipedreams would do you no good now.

“Instead you just pushed me out the door and it’s been nothing but empty letters from you since.”

“They weren’t empty.” Azriel said weakly. He’d never been a man of words or poetry, but in that moment he desperately wished he was. “And I did miss you. Y/n, I missed you so much some days it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

You deflated, your anger slowly ebbing away like the ocean during low tide. Sometimes you forgot that beneath all those hard-won layers of shadow and muscle, Azriel was still that little boy that had been abandoned in a cellar and taught to believe he was worthless. A waste of time and a waste of space. Nothing more than an inconvenient bastard.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were all doing fine. That I’d come back and it would be like nothing had ever changed. I would’ve-I would’ve made time to visit. Or-or come back sooner.”

Azriel chuckled without humour. He had not been “doing fine” without you. He hadn’t been “doing fine” since the moment you’d stepped across the doorway and winnowed out of Velaris.

“You make it sound like I was going away forever.” You added softly.

“It felt like it.” Azriel admitted quietly, “I always worried there was a chance you’d decide you liked things better in Dawn. That you liked the people better. So when I saw you with Naemon I just…” His voice trailed off and he slowly backed up to your bed, sinking down into the pillowy comforter. Even the beds seemed softer and kinder here. Softer and kinder than him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

He felt the bed dip beside him, your knee pressing against his in a burst of warmth. The blue tipped pleats of your dress slowly waved with his shadows as they once again curled around your feet, inching up your dress and closer and closer to your hands. Now that he was looking down he noticed the shoes you were wearing - cobalt blue with matching velvet ribbons tied up your calf. Same as your dress. Same as the ribbon in your hair.

“I wanted to believe you wore those colors for me tonight.” He said quietly, aching for your touch. Your hands were so close to his he could almost imagine that-

You covered his hands with your own, smoothing the rough skin with gentle caresses, “I did.”

It had seemed like such a stupidly hopeful choice at the time - some not-so-subtle declaration of love for all the months you’d spent apart - but when the seamstress had laid out all the dresses, you’d taken one look at the cobalt blue accents and the shoes and snatched them up in a heartbeat.

Azriel’s eyes were wider, more open, than the moon, shimmering with disbelief and hope, “You did?” He whispered.

“I did. They reminded me of you.” You stopped looking him in the eyes. It felt like too much. Too much emotion. Too much feeling. “I missed you too, you know.”

Azriel stayed quiet for a long while, sorting out the myriad of feelings roiling in his chest and trying to latch onto a single coherent thought. Finally he murmured, “I guess we could both work on saying things outright.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and wiping at the corners of your eyes, “Yes. I guess we could.”

“We could start now.” Azriel offered hesitantly. His heart hammered away in his chest like a blacksmith at his anvil until he was sure his sternum would crack.

You raised your eyebrows. Curious.

“The next five minutes. We say everything honestly. No holding back.”

“I don’t know, Az. I-”

“Please.” He begged, holding onto your hands a little tighter. His shadows had traveled all the way up to your waist now, ghosting over flesh that he didn’t dare touch. He didn’t want to lose you. He’d thought he could handle being apart from you physically - that it would be no different from the decades he’d spent quietly loving you from right by your side - but he’d been horribly wrong. And he didn’t want to risk another, better male than Naemon coming to whisk you away before he had the chance to do things properly. To do things honestly.

His hands were shaking now, gripping your hands like you were the anchor to his ship trapped in raging waters, “I’ll start.”

“Ok.” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

Azriel swallowed and tried to stop the trembling in his hands and in his voice. In this he managed quite well, falling into a rigid, flat silence.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years now, actually.” He dared to look at you. Your lips were parted in shock and he wished he could taste them, “Is that…is that ok?”

“Is that ok?” You repeated dumbly. “Is that ok?” You repeated a little louder, “Are you serious, Azriel?”

“Y-Yes?” He was trembling again, face open and terrified. He was offering you up his heart on a platter and praying to the Mother you wouldn’t crush it beneath those velvet blue shoes. Even if you did, he would find some solace in knowing you were the one to destroy him. He loved you so dearly that it was only within your right to do so.

Your lips broke in a stuttered smile, opening and closing like you didn’t quite know what to do. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. I’d hoped you might feel that way but I… I was never sure. I…” You cradled his face in your hands, tracing the curve of his jaw and his cheekbones with your fingertips, “I love you too, Azriel. I love you so much.” Your voice cracked, silver gathering in your eyes no matter how fiercely you tried to blink them away, “Gods, Az, you don’t even know.”

He gripped you close enough enough to bruise, arms locked around your waist and hands laid flat on your back. It was a sweet pain that grew even sweeter when you kissed him, searching for breath like you’d find it in his lungs. Azriel was just as desperate, ravenous even as he tugged at your clothes and flipped you flat on the bed. He wanted your lips again. You tasted like strawberries and cream, and he was starving.

He climbed on top, slotting himself between your legs as you yanked him close.

“Your hair,” You muttered, “It’s too neat.” The next minute was all teeth from Azriel as you mussed up his hair and he grinned wildly against your lips.

“Five-” He groaned, sinking further into you when you wrapped your legs around his waist, “Five minutes aren’t-” He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at your flushed face as you gasped for breath and finally untangled your hands from his hair, “Five minutes aren’t up yet.”

“You’ve been keeping track?” You dropped your head back on the bed with a disgruntled hmph. Had he been counting the whole time he’d been kissing you?

He kissed your chest, then the sensitive skin of your neck. But there wasn’t any expectation in the brush of his lips, just quiet, honest love.

You raised your head, finding that Azriel once again looked scared. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He said seriously. “Before… before anything else.”

You drew yourself onto your elbows, craning your neck for one more kiss, “You can tell me, Az. You can tell me anything.”

The bond sang in his chest like a songbird in a cage. It wanted to be released. To be acknowledged in words if it couldn’t be acknowledged through feeling at this moment. Because Azriel knew you didn’t feel it yet. You didn’t feel the burning he felt in his chest that made it hard to breathe when you weren’t around.

What if she doesn’t want this? What if she doesn’t want me? Azriel swallowed thickly, tears springing into his eyes. He wanted so desperately to be worthy of you - to be the kind and gentle lover and mate that you deserved. He’d been born crooked even before he’d been tossed into that cellar, before his half-brothers had set his hands on fire. But… but he was yours completely. He’d offer whatever meager, broken shards of himself that he could in hopes it might be enough.

“Az,” You whispered his name lovingly and slid a wayward curl behind his ear so gently he thought he might break apart into a million pieces, “Tell me. Please. Tell me.”

“You’re my mate.” He confessed.

The words hung in the air, unaccepted, unrejected, and you went preternaturally still.

He had no feathers to pluck out and present to you. But he had his shadows. You tipped your head curiously to the side when Azriel knelt on the ground, holding your hand in his.

“I don’t have any pure white feathers. I don’t even have a ring on me right now-”

“Az, you don’t need to-” You stilled when a shadow flickered down Azriel’s wrist onto yours. It was a small, delicate thing. Willful too. You could tell by the way it traveled confidently down your ring finger, curling there tastefully like a castle spire reaching towards the sky.

It hovered over your skin like mist hanging over wetlands. A proposal in and of itself.

“Yes.” You said before Azriel could open his mouth again. He hesitated, afraid to believe he’d heard you correctly, “Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” He teased weakly.

But this time you knew exactly what he meant, even if he didn’t say it out loud.

The bond burst to life in your chest as the shadow sank into your skin, settling there like a tattoo. Like a promise.

Azriel stumbled, actually stumbled, clenching at his chest at the wildness growing within him. He chased after you, hurtling down the bond and finding you wide open on the other side. You were anxious and surprised and so so so happy. So happy you felt like you might just die from it, and Azriel felt it all.

Hello, Y/n. He called out.

Hello, Azriel. You responded. My mate.

Azriel groaned, slamming his lips and his body against yours. You held steady as you always did, letting him press against you as if you could keep him there forever.

I am yours and you are mine. You gripped his hair again, feeling the silky strands caress your skin. With one smooth motion he pulled out the ribbon and started to undo the buttons of your dress.

Promise?

You grinned. Promise.

___________

Author's note:

Nothing like a declaration of love after a year spent apart to make my heart swoon.

But honestly I would have fallen in love with Naemon... sorry Az...

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar azriel #azriel fic #jealous azriel #fluff #angst #azriel x reader angst #acotar #acotar oneshot #acotar fanfic

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roseworth · 4 months ago

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what direction do you think they should have gone in with jason? as in where should he be now in terms of people and what he's doing

i think winick had it exactly right green arrow #69-72 and batman & robin #23-25. he was a villain but he had a Method and a Purpose. and usually that purpose was just to fuck with batman. i loooove it when hes a villain and hes very clearly doing bad things, but hes not just indiscriminately killing people. hes doing it for a reason, hes still doing the same thing he was doing in utrh by controlling the drug trade, and even when hes doing the right thing hes being an asshole about it

i especially love the ga issues because jason doesnt even talk to batman but bruce KNOWS what hes doing and he knows its about him. i love the bruce & jason post-utrh dynamic where they've both pretty much said everything they have to say and neither of them is changing their position, so now jason is just starting fires to get attention. "ok bruce you dont want to talk to me? thats fine. ill just follow you to star city then psychologically torture a teenage girl then blow her up in front of you" icon! i forgive him! i think its so fun when red hood is a member of batman's rogues gallery and bruce feels bad every time he fights him but also he kinda cant stand him since he knows jason is only doing it to mess with him and its working. but also jason is a Greater Good person so he DOES end up working with the bats sometimes just because theyre also working on the good side

anyways the ideal bruce & jason dynamic to me is "the love was there and it made everything so much worse" because jason is doing everything for bruces attention because he loves him and wants him to care about him but hes not willing to budge on his own morals and neither is bruce. and bruce loves jason so he doesnt want to arrest him or put him in danger but also hes killing people and doing terrible things and bruce is batman so he feels obligated to. yk. stop him. and as much as they both love each other they do not like each other at all

in my mind jason doesnt really care about any of the other bats besides dick & babs just because he knew them before he died so hes willing to hang out with them but they Do Not want to see him. like in brothers in blood when jason goes hiiiii dick <3 lets hang out <3333 and dick is constantly suppressing the cain instinct. he never really talks to babs pre52 i think theyre interactions would be very similar in that jason goes hey babs ur so cool <33 and she says jason get the fuck away from me or im activating the bomb in your helmet <3

but also with steph even though he didnt know her pre-death,, i think he would like her. i can imagine him doing something very similar to what he did with mia, basically finding her and going "quit your vigilante career. join my emo band" but i think she would end up being a lot more receptive to it than mia was ! like im thinking batgirl 2009 era steph so she would not be on board with the idea of joining him since things were going well with team batgirl, but i also think that any interaction between the two of them in that era would go well and end with them getting along :)

as for everyone else. i dont think he would care about any of them. theyre just kinda collateral damage in his war with bruce. like he gets involved with them sometimes just because of their proximity to bruce, or like i said earlier that he works with them sometimes because he cares about the greater good so is willing to help them when necessary. also honorable mention to aoifa's headcanon that jason doesnt actually know tims name because he just does not care. thats canon to me

so yeah in conclusion: he should be a morally grey villain that does what he does either for the greater good, or to fuck with batman, or both. and he has complicated relationships with all of them bc he likes bruce dick and babs but also kinda hates all of them and they like but also hate him too. and the rest of them he doesn't really give a shit about

#im a defender of winick's b&r jason until the day i die #the state of jason at that point was in SHAMBLES he was working with what he had #jason todd #dc

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years ago

Text

Eyes On Me

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Flirting, pining, size difference, mentions and descriptions of injury, mentions of battle, dirty talk, praise, dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex

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Summary: Ghost gets a life-threatening injury, and it’s your job to make sure he returns to full-health.

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A/N: I rarely do summaries on one-shots, but since I’m introducing a character I figured I would (: I loooove this character, and I’m really hoping to write more one-shots with her and Ghost in the future!

Part Two: Lucky

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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Working on them was easy, they took everything you gave them like champs. Splints, stitches, cleanings, anything they had, you took care of. They’d bite their tongues, ball up their fists if they had to, but for the most part, that was it. Vargas wouldn’t whine, but Gaz would. Price was nearly silent and in all honesty, Soap whimpered like a baby. But Ghost, he didn’t ever make a sound.

It wasn’t always like this, you weren’t always 141’s go-to medic. Before, you were here for everyone. Whoever needed you, that’s who you tended to. You got so good at it that at one point, you’d been promoted to a rescue mission position. Daily helicopter rides became your usual. Freezing temperatures and smoke-filled air met your exterior shell on a weekly basis. You’ve even been dropped into open fields full of bullets and bloody cries. The training you received was minimal, but enough for you to take it and run. You had talent, that talent growing into expertise. You knew how to defend yourself, your reflexes were good. You could shoot a gun and if need be, hold your own. That’s what got you to 141.

They impressed you, they still do. The team worked like a well oiled machine. And when you first saw them, you immediately questioned him.

“What’s with the mask?” You’d asked him, straight to his face. He tilted his head. “Is it still Halloween?”

The boys laughed, but Ghost didn’t. His fingers curled, and he sucked in a breath. You were brand new; not a good way to start off with him. Hey, it’s not your fault he took it the wrong way. You love Halloween. Sometimes you even find the scary things sexy.

Eventually you learned the real reasoning behind his mask, behind the skeleton head that hid his face. Honestly, you were intrigued by it, his anonymity. But sometimes, it got in the way.

“Blood type?” You’d asked, going through each soldier’s file as you became acquainted, some months ago now.

“Unknown.” Your colleague responded.

“What? What do you mean?”

“We have little to no information on Ghost’s background.”

“What if he starts to bleed out? Or needs a blood transfusion?”

“Guess I’ll die.” Came his gruff response.

Spinning around in your small and circular wheeled chair, you saw his bulky body taking up the majority on the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest while leaning against the frame.

Why is she so interested in me? He’d wondered, suspicious of you. What he should’ve been asking himself is, why am I so interested in her?

He’d seen you work on his team, you were efficient and clean. He’d even go so far as to call you fearless. And surprisingly, he finds himself liking that. You were a bit of a brat, but at the heart of your teasing jokes, there was a sense of playful familiarity. And overall, having you around was good for his men. He didn’t know how vital you were to his team, though, until you had to be flown in to rescue him.

Pressing into his wound, you didn’t even feel him flinch. The gauze was soaked in the red stain seeping from the cut in his skin, and you were running out of supplies - you were running out of time. And apparently, your frantic nature showed.

“Hey,” You direct your sternest voice at him. “Ghost - Simon, eyes on me.”

He’s spiraling; body feeling light and his consciousness leaving you quickly. His eyelids are fluttering.

“You worried about me, love?” He was out of it, losing blood and flirting while in his hazy state. It was the first time he’d ever been nice to you.

But really, he wasn’t just being nice because his body was going into shock and losing his grip on reality. He was talking to you this way because he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to after this.

Giggling, you shook your head, happy that he was now responding to you. “Nah, big boy like you?” Patting his shoulder, you said, “You’ll be just fine.”

Even if he didn’t show it, Simon was worried, too.

“But I bet you wish you’d told me your blood type now.”

He wasn’t happy. Simon didn’t ever seem that happy, but right now, he definitely wasn’t happy. All he’s ever known is a military lifestyle, training and being out in the field. Having his team’s back, contributing to the work effort, that’s what he was best at. And now, he can’t do any of that. At least, not for the next couple weeks.

“I’m not a child.”

“Never said you were.” Rolling your eyes, you openly sass him. “It’s just a blanket.”

It was the first day of him being in your mini infirmary, just the two took up the room. Each of the boys came in to give him a pat on the shoulder, make sure he was doing alright. But in all honesty, Ghost hated this kind of attention. Being coddled and cared for. He could take care of himself.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” He grunts, looking away almost childishly.

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go get some pizza.”

At this, he perks up a bit, groaning. “Can you bring me back a box?” Mumbling, he’s still looking away.

Before you leave, you turn back around with a grin. “Sure thing, big boy.”

Once you’re finally gone, he sighs, his emotions contradicting each other inside. Frustration doesn’t even come close to what he’s feeling. He never gets injured in the field. Is he losing his touch? Surely not, he’s still in his glory years. For him, it’s embarrassing to be seen like this, not just in front of the boys but in front of you, though he’d never admit it. You make him feel nervous inside, like he has to heighten the man he already knows himself to be. He has to be tougher around you; he can’t show any weakness. The only problem with that, was that he did have a weakness, a major one. That gaping hole in his chest.

“Alright,” Coming back with two boxes of pizza, you set them on your desk, moving them to the side. “Let’s clean you up.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Okay, look.” Wiping your hands off of your pants, you turn to face him. “This is my job. Would you get angry at Soap for clearing a room before you? Or Price for conducting an infiltration route?”

This makes him stop, closing his mouth for a moment, although you can’t see it.

“I’m part of your team, you have to acknowledge that. Your job is to kill bad guys, and my job,” Taking a few steps toward him, you point to his chest. “Is to fix the mess the bad guys make.”

Ghost shifts his shoulders, looking away from you for just a second. And after a moment, his eyes return to yours, and he nods.

Reaching down, he cracks the knuckles on his hands, and it takes everything in you not to break his eye contact. Every movement of his muscles makes you sweat, the ripples of them more than a beautiful sight. He’s impressive. All he has on right now are a pair of shorts and a bandage wrapped around his upper chest. Other than that, he’s bare. You can see the muscles in his abdomen, the impressive form and firmness of them, the bulges of his biceps and the chorded muscle in his forearms. His legs are thick, huge, sturdy enough to hold his entire weight along with two other men, if need be. Again, impressive.

Satisfied with his nonverbal response, you turn to grab the essentials. Pulling over a small, wheeled tray, you begin your work. Ghost sits up off the back of the bed for you, allowing you to remove the bandages around his chest. He maneuvers himself to sit cross-legged while you do it, his head tilted down to watch you work.

Truthfully, Simon thought you were attractive the moment he saw you. And then you made fun of him. But when he balled up his fists, when he inhaled that sharp breath as a reaction, it wasn’t because he was mad at you. It was because right then and there, he was attracted to you.

“You ever been stabbed like this before?”

He doesn’t answer for a minute, not really wanting to admit it. But then he shakes his head. “No.”

This tells you something, it tells you that you’re tending to the worst injury he’s ever had. And you’re shocked by his answer, you would’ve assumed he’s had worse. But a stab to the chest that just barely misses the heart? Yeah, that’s pretty bad.

He doesn’t budge when you apply the antiseptic, allowing you to work in peace. Once you’ve cleaned the wound, he’s surprised to feel your hands. His eyes widen while keeping his gaze on you, watching as your fingertips explore him. They move across his chest, just barely gliding over his skin.

“Doesn’t look too bad.” You murmur to him, eyes trained on his chest.

Ghost is undeniably the fittest out of the entire team. He’s huge, and not just in height. You haven’t seen his naked torso since the day he was stabbed, and when you were tending to him then, you definitely weren’t thinking about how attracted you were to him. You were working to save his life. But now, you have time to let your thoughts wander, to let yourself experience what he feels like.

Trailing down a bit, your fingers graze over his abdominal muscles, your tongue briefly sliding across your lower lip. His muscles are firm, smooth, and warm. Your touch makes him feel uncertain; he doesn’t know what you’re doing, but it’s making him nervous. Well, not nervous, necessarily but… excited.

“What happened to you being nice to me, huh?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. And the smile you offer is pretty. “Thought you’d be my best friend after I saved your life.”

This makes him laugh, a small grunt coming out toward the end from his injury. You’re right, he should be nicer to you considering the circumstance. He should also be nicer to you because, well… he fancies you.

“I’m sorry.” He finally acknowledges, albeit quietly. “I know I’ve been acting… standoffish.”

“It’s okay,” Shrugging, you reach for the clean bandages. “I get it, you’re embarrassed.”

Sighing, he looks down at your nimble hands again. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get your blood pressure before you eat.” You then tell him, changing the topic while retrieving your tools. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” Glancing up at him, you grin. “I promise.”

Right now, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone. You’re nice company.

Attaching the cuff over his bicep is a feat in and of itself. His muscles stretch the fabric, but it ends up securing around him adequately. You then take your stethoscope, applying it to his inner elbow while you begin pumping the meter. Glancing up at the machine, you focus on the readings, and absentmindedly, your hand wanders. While continuing to record his data, your free hand slides down his arm and into his palm as you steady yourself beside him.

Widening those pretty brown eyes, he releases a breath, now looking further down. He’s surprised, but honestly, it feels nice. Makes him relax. And while staring at your smaller hand now resting in his, he inhales deeply, curling his fingers slightly around your hand. This makes your head snap to the side, having not fully realized what you’d done. But Ghost doesn’t move when you look at him; he does stare at you though, right into your eyes. And while keeping your gaze, he lightly squeezes your hand. He really is sorry. He’s grateful.

The days following the first are actually pretty nice. With your main focus on Ghost, the rest of the crew seem to leave you alone for the time being.

“You’ve been a big help lately.”

“What?” Comes that thick, English accent. “I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass.”

“Yeah, but it keeps them,” Pointing out into the training yard, you finish, “Off my ass.”

Turning, he stretches, watching his team run around and lift weights on the field behind him, only a window separating them.

“It’s like I told you, sweetheart.” His head then moves, returning his gaze to you. “You’re the finest thing they’ve seen in months.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tease. “What about you?”

Since he’s been nicer, you’ve been spending more time at his side. You didn’t need to sleep here, he was fine by himself, but after that first night, you did. You couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about him all alone in the infirmary while you lay cozied up in bed made you sad. You didn’t want him to get lonely. So, you slept on the small loveseat in the corner, the one the boys usually sit on to smoke. And your sleepovers were starting to make you close, that sweet little nickname being evidence of that.

“What about me?” Under his mask, his face heats up. He knows what you’re asking.

“Am I the finest thing you’ve seen in months?”

Under that skull-painted cover, he grins, giving you a single nod. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, Ghost,” Walking over to him, you lean into his bicep, clutching it. “I knew you’d eventually fall in love with me.”

Rolling his eyes, he grumbles with an amused tone, “A pretty big pain in my ass.”

After he says this, you laugh, pushing yourself off of him.

“Bones?” Your comm link buzzes slightly, a bit of static coming through.

Pressing your button, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s up?”

“Searg. is calling a meeting.”

“Time?”

“Eighteen hundred.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Bones?”

Once your conversation has ended, another one promptly begins. Lifting your head to face him, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”

Ghost tilts his head to the side slightly, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Never heard anyone call you that.”

“Yeah, well you’re not on my med. team.”

“Well, you’re on my team, aren’t you?”

Giving him a thoughtful pout, you eventually answer with, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Then we should know your cover.” His voice is stern and gritty, deep and rumbling. It’s like how he talks out in the field.

“Well, now you do.” Giving him a quick wink, you turn away, intent on doing some paperwork before your meeting.

“What’s the meaning of it?” When you don’t immediately answer, he calls for you. “Bones?”

Something about him using your code name makes you grin.

“I’m known for breaking them.” Turning, you face him once again, a smile plastered across your smooth lips.

“Known for breaking bones?” He clarifies, sounding skeptical.

“Yep.”

“Huh,” He scoffs, “That’s not exactly something to boast about, is it?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be if they were mine.”

Oh, now he gets it.

“I did a lot more than sew up wounds before I came here.” With a heavy sigh, you reminisce on your time in the field. But you made a choice to be here. “I used to break them, now I heal them.”

He never knew. And honestly, this new information only makes him more attracted to you. A badass soldier with a gentle touch? Sounds like his kind of woman.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You emphasize, “I’ve got some paperwork to do.”

“Fine.” He returns flatly, and you giggle. He really sounds upset about that abrupt ending.

“Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Won’t be a problem.” He grunts, shimmying to lay back down. “I’ll just sleep.”

Throughout your hours spent together, you’ve discovered that he’s quite the fan of naps. He takes one every day around three in the afternoon, and you wonder if he’s finally enjoying his rest. It doesn’t help that you often have to leave him while he’s sleeping, though. You’ve liked being by his side lately, it’s comforting. His presence has begun to grow quite kind, and even in the quiet times, it’s nice. But you still have meetings and other duties to tend to. Which include the one you’d been called to.

Ghost’s gentle snore is what prompts you to look up, your eyes searching for his own. But they’re closed, one arm propped behind his head with his other hand laying over his stomach. He’s fully laying on the bed, the blanket only covering up to his waist. He’s still shirtless, and right now, he looks practically naked. Aside from the mask. Eyes trailing up his form, you take in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the light-colored hairs scattering his pectorals, and even further down, leading from his belly button to the hem of his pants. It makes you sigh, he looks peaceful. You’ve never seen him so relaxed.

You don’t like the thought of him waking up to a room empty of you, so to make up for it, you head to the cafeteria. As quietly as you can, you return with a large pizza, one with his favorite toppings on it. Steak, mushrooms, onions, and two kinds of cheese, specifically provolone and American - strange and lengthy details, but ones you memorized, nonetheless. And after you set the box down, taking in another look of him, you turn to leave.

Eventually, the smell wakes him up. How could it not? It’s his absolute favorite thing to eat. But he has to be careful, he needs to keep himself in shape over these couple of weeks, or he’ll need more training than originally planned. Sighing, he props himself up, the realization now setting in.

She did this for me.

He knows it was you and not the boys because of the little note on top of the box.

Ghost,

I’m at a meeting until six tonight, I’m sorry I probably won’t be around when you wake up. Here’s some pizza to make up for it. Hopefully you still love me <3

Bones

He rolls his eyes at that last part, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. You can be so sarcastic sometimes. But he likes it. You make him laugh.

While you’re gone, Simon thinks about the way you take care of him. You’re so gentle with him when changing his bandages and cleaning his wound. Your smaller hands touch him so softly that it makes him feel things for you. He wonders, is he just interested in you because you’re the only woman around? Or is he interested in you because you’re funny? Because you’re nice? It’s because you’re such a tender caretaker and you remind him of all the love he never got in life.

Looking back at the note, he reads it again. It sounds like you’d regretted leaving him, even for something as important as a medical staff meeting. Maybe you’ve been enjoying his company, too.

When night rolls around, you snuggle up on the couch, pulling the blanket you’d grabbed from your cot over your shoulders. Ghost just stares at you, one leg laying flat on his bed with the other up, the sole of his foot planted on the mattress.

“How the hell do you fit on that?”

Shrugging, you answer with, “It’s easy to fit in places when you’re not an enormous tank.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” Smirking, you can just barely see his eyes in the darkness. Those nearly black orbs find your own, and it makes your chest tighten. “I like the way you’re built.”

He chuckles, amused. “Yeah?” And then he reaches for a pack of cigarettes next to his bed, lifting the edge of his mask. “Why’s that, love?” That word makes the skin on your face burn.

You get a small flash of his face when he lights the end of his cig with a match, and you notice something you’ve never seen before.

“What’s that scar from?” It just comes out on its own. He knows you’re talking about the one on his jaw.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He points out, taking a puff. And for some reason, you find that so hot.

“I’ll answer it if you answer mine.”

Sometimes, you aggravate him. Sighing, he speaks through the darkness, telling you, “Fine.”

A sly grin crosses your face on the other side of the room, and you wonder if he can see it. He can.

“I like men with muscles.” And he likes that answer. “Makes me feel like they can take care of me.”

He exhales calmly into the nighttime air between the two of you, pressing his lips to the cigarette and then inhaling once again. Ghost knows he could take care of you.

And then he thinks about his own response, settling with, “It came from a knife.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “You gotta tell me more than that.”

Flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a tray, he lays back a little on the bed. “It was a mission in the Middle East. Bloody heat was killing me, I had to lift my mask up.”

Oh, wow. Honestly, you were just kidding. You never thought he’d actually tell you anything more. But you take this chance and run with it, listening intently so you don’t miss a single piece of his story.

“We were ambushed,” He continues, shaking his head. “Price never saw it coming.”

Truly, you can’t even imagine. Sure, you had your time in the field, but it was nothing compared to what he’s gone through.

“We took them out, but not before one of them got to me with a knife. Sliced up my jaw.” Ghost exhales a puff of smoke, watching it billow into the air. Then he gently shakes his head. “Didn’t let him get any further ‘n that.”

By the end of the story, his voice has grown flat. Maybe he doesn’t like thinking about his scars. Maybe it’s why he keeps the mask on.

“Could I… could I see?”

“My scar?” Comes his instant response. “What for?”

“I dunno,” Shrugging in the dimly lit light, you glance down at the floor. A timid gesture that he again sees.

After a moment of silence, he figures, what the hell? Having you be close to his face didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Besides, he likes getting a good look at you. Finishing off his cigarette and rubbing the butt of it down into the tray beside him, he says, “Why not?”

Looking up, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I don't have to. I don’t even know why I asked.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Come over here, doll.”

Almost giddily, you do, shoving your blanket to the side and popping up onto your feet. He chuckles deeply upon seeing your reaction, watching you scamper over to him.

“You’re excited about this, huh?”

Shrugging, you grin, standing right next to his bed. “Maybe.”

You don’t give a single shit about his scar. You want to see him. Being close to Ghost gives you a good feeling.

Leaning over, you turn on your desk lamp, illuminating this corner of the room. And when you come back to him, you’re met with the incredible sight of his eyes. They’re dark brown in shade, but in the dim light, they're a dazzling pool of honey. But what really catches your eye is the lower half of his face. His mask is still pulled up, revealing his mouth, chin, and jaw.

“Can I touch?” You then ask, keeping your voice quiet.

He eyes you up and down while your gaze is fixated on his mouth. His lips curl, and he nods. “Sure.”

Lifting your hands, they fall to either side of his face. When you make contact with him, he closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, accepting your touch. He can’t remember the last time he let someone do this.

“Hm…” You don’t mean to, but you hum, fingers trailing along his jawline and chin. He has stubble here, just barely. It seems like when he’s crept away to the showers at night, he’s shaved.

Ghost’s eyes trail across your face, feeling your breath on his skin. You’re closer than you ever have been before, and it makes the muscles in his chest tighten, makes his pulse quicken. Licking his lower lip, he whispers, “How’s that feel?”

“Good.” You respond, nodding, your eyes not once leaving his mouth. “I like it.”

“Why’d you want to feel it?” He then wonders aloud, and he wishes you would look up at him. He wants to look into your sweet eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough scars in your lifetime?”

“I don’t really care about scars.”

What the hell?

Scrunching his brow, he then asks, “Then why the hell did you want to see mine?”

Now, you do look up into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you work up the nerve to say what’s floating through your mind. “Because it’s on you.”

Immediately, he swallows. His gaze falls to your mouth for the first time since you’ve been this close, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your now slightly parted lips. And all at once, he sits up a bit straighter, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.

As if you’re expecting it, you melt into him, letting him press you to his body. The fingertips on his jaw slide along his cheeks as you move to fully hold his face in your hands, Ghost’s lips easily meeting your own. One large arm slides around your back, hand securing to your waist as he pulls you further into him.

Heartbeat pounding in your veins, you gasp quietly against him, molding your mouth to his as you return his enthusiasm. Your hands hold onto him tightly, sliding down to the back of his neck. But then he stops, releasing a rough sigh and opening his eyes to look at you.

“Come here,” He whispers hurriedly, his other hand reaching out and tugging on you.

“Ghost, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” His lips are moving over your jaw, his hands still pulling on you.

“You’re healing.”

Scoffing, he leans over the side of the bed, hands securing themselves to your lower back and upper thigh. He then hauls you forward, leaning down so he can hoist you up onto his lap.

“Oh!”

“I go back into the field next week.” He grunts out, now looking up at you. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

“Ghost, I -”

“You know my name?” He asks, his rough, baritone voice demanding your attention.

And suddenly, you feel extremely fucking small. Your legs slide forward and down, straddling him. Quietly, you squeak out, “Yes.”

“Say it.”

Leaning forward, you embrace the excitement of being on top of him. Your hands return to hold his face, and he lets you. Bringing yourself in close, you look into his eyes.

“Simon.”

“That’s right.” Comes his breathy exhale, leaning in to close the small gap between the two of you.

And then Simon’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you further into him. His other lands on your hip, fingers curling around your flesh. He smells like cigarettes and cologne, tastes like mint and tobacco. And you overtly, eagerly, wholeheartedly, welcome him.

“Closer to me,” Simon grumbles, the hand on your hip curling around your lower back. He pulls you until you’re flush against his chest, your breasts pushing up against his clean bandages.

“Simon,”

He groans into your mouth when you use his name, repeatedly moving his lips over your own. Your legs press tightly to the outsides of his thighs, holding him close to your body. And when he feels your hips shift against him, when he hears your soft, delicate moan, he decides to slide his tongue into your mouth. He licks inside, rubbing the wet muscle over your own. Moaning wantonly, it echoes into his throat, the hand on your head sliding down to hold your jaw open. The way he moves against your mouth is almost overwhelming, full of passion and lust and a particular sense of need.

“You wanna take this off for me?” His accent is making you melt. “Can you do that for me, love?”

Tugging impatiently on your shirt, those frosty eyes look into your own with a look of utter desperation. But also control. Ghost was always in control.

Nodding, you reach down, finding the edges of your longsleeve shirt and slipping it up and over your head.

“Oh…” He moans - Ghost fucking moans. His head immediately dips down to the luscious space between your breasts, mouth finding your skin.

“Oh,” It comes as a complete surprise, him surging down to kiss you here. “Simon…”

Fuck, you’ve wanted to do this since you met him. You both have.

His mouth drags along the curves of your chest, and you’re surprised when they’re followed by tender kisses. And then his hands drop, groping your ass.

“I want you.” He growls against your breasts, nipping at the soft slopes of them. “What do you want, love?”

“I want you, Simon.” Nodding quickly, your hands slide back up to his face. In your hurried state you accidentally move the fabric of his mask just a bit, and his hands come flying up to your forearms as soon as it happens.

“Don’t take it off.” It’s a firm boundary, a stern warning. His head lifts, too, eyes staring menacingly into you.

“I wouldn’t, I won’t.” He looks at you almost skeptically. “I respect your privacy.”

When he doesn’t budge, you wiggle on top of him. “Please. Simon, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”

Slowly, his hands leave your forearms, loosening their grasp. He’s deciding to trust you.

One of those meaty hands falls to your chest, still holding your gaze while he cups you. The other rises to your neck, fingers curling around the back to pull you in again. This time, though, he doesn’t return to your lips. This time, he goes to your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you let him, feeling Simon’s teeth scrape along your skin. He’s feeling every inch of you that he can, hands falling to your ass when he feels you move over him. With a firm grasp, he urges you forward and back, grinding your covered crotch over his own. And while he’s busy exploring you, you take this opportunity to explore him.

Delicately, your fingertips slide down his face, down the chorded muscles along his neck, landing on his sculpted shoulders and then moving to his biceps. When you squeeze the thick meat of his arms, he groans, smirking mischievously against you. With your nails scraping lightly over his taut skin, they quickly find his back, gently scratching him. His muscles are flexing, damn near all of them. He’s so worked up with you like this on top of him. And he’s still moving you, shoving your hips over his crotch and manhandling you in the softest way he knows how. He’s strong, but he’s gentle with you.

The length of him is palpable beneath his thin shorts, settling right into your covered folds. And it makes you moan, makes your breaths pick up and your center pulse. The air is thick with arousal, the room lit dimly in the soft, yellow hue of your small lamp. His breaths are hot, fanning across your face in humid and heavy wafts. But then he stops, taking a breath. And for some reason, your sass decides to fill this brief, empty space.

“So,” Sighing, you’re also working to catch your breath. “Does this mean you think I’m pretty?”

He chuckles, that beautiful smile making itself known. “Does this mean you like my muscles?”

“I love your muscles.” Wiggling even closer to him, you grin, sucking in a tight and excited breath. Your one hand then slides down his chest, his abs, curling around to hold his hip, your thumb just barely brushing his pelvis.

“Yeah? Even when you’re sewing ‘em up?” He asks, that deliciously rich accent making you flutter inside.

“You can’t do that again.” Shaking your head, your hands move to hold his face. It’s a tender act. “You can’t scare us like that again.”

That night, you swear you started to see the light fade out of his eyes, and that, well… that was a first for you. You saved Simon’s life.

“You care about me, eh?” He replies in the cockiest voice.

“Your team cares about you.” Eyes flickering down to the bandages on his chest, you then say, “And yeah, maybe I do, too.”

Simon’s body flexes beneath you, hips rutting up into your own. And now, it’s his turn to hold your face in his hands. He lifts your jaw, making you look at him.

“Hey, don’t worry about that now.”

“Are you okay?” Eyes darting back up to his, they’re filled with concern from the memories of that day. “With me sitting like this on you?”

He gives you a cocky grin. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big boy, remember?”

This makes you smirk, one hand finding its way to his pelvis with much more confidence than before. “Is that right?”

“That’s right.” He nods, keeping that gorgeous grin. “Think you wanna take it?”

Breathing out a small laugh, you give your head a single shake. “I never knew you wanted to fuck me so bad.”

“You never noticed the things I’ve said to you?”

“No, I noticed. I just thought… maybe it was harmless flirting.”

At this, his head tilts, eyes boring into your kind orbs. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me harmless in my entire life.”

“Yeah, you’re one scary motherfucker.” Leaning in to kiss him, he accepts it with a heated moan. “And I find that sexy as hell.”

“Well, you said you like fixing bones.” He’s feeling desperate for you at this point; it’s like you won’t stop teasing him “Hop on this one, then.”

“Oh my god, you really are like every other fucking guy.” But you’re already reaching for the bottom of your sports bra, slipping it off your torso in one go.

“God damn.” Large hands instantly return to your breasts, cupping and weighing your tits in his palms. His chest dips dramatically from releasing such a heavy breath, leaning in to kiss one of your delicate peaks. It’s firm and wet, the repeated press of his lips. And it wouldn’t be so overwhelming if he wasn’t practically making out with your tits.

Seeing your naked form for the first time sets his own alight. He always knew you were a sexy little thing, and now, he’s got first hand proof. Your curves look delicious, and if he weren’t in a tiny medical bed, he’d lay you down to lick them.

“You want me?” He doesn’t expect this sort of response, his surprise going tenfold when he feels you reach down between your bodies.

“Oh,” He releases a tight breath, feeling you run a finger over his erection.

Staring into your eyes, he gives you an almost predatory gaze. “You know I do.”

Easily, you slide your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your delicate sex to him, though he can only barely see it. And then you’re reaching down, fingers curling over the band of his shorts to pull him out. When you do, he releases a sound you’ve never heard from him before, his jaw hanging low. He’s long and firm, crimson at the head and already leaking. The pulsations rocking through his cock are, at this point, an almost painful sensation; and when you look down, you grin. Letting the length of him rest on his lower abdomen, you move yourself so you can slide your glistening lips over him.

Simon hisses at the contact, strong hands cementing themselves to your hips. But he doesn’t stop you from moving. If anything, he only encourages you to.

“You get off on this?” He suddenly asks, the feeling of your slippery center sliding against him making his head spin and his insides tense. “Fucking your superior?”

“Baby,” You laugh, shaking your head while continuing to move over him. “I’m on the med. team, you’re not my superior.” Taking a breath, you reach out, grabbing his jaw and lowering your voice to speak. “But you did get one thing right. I do want to fuck you.”

Before he can say anything, you’re lifting yourself, his throbbing tip prodding at your entrance. You hold his gaze, an unexpected moan drifting from your lips when you finally begin to feel him.

“Fuck,” He grits out, fingers digging into your sides and urging you down. “Come on, precious. You can take it.”

Sliding down only a few mere inches, you wince. Holding onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into his skin, scratching harshly at the firm muscles all along him. He’s bigger than you’d imagined him to be. His girth is wider than you’ve ever had, and when you reach down to feel him you quickly discover he also isn’t lacking in length.

His military voice then comes out, that stern, commanding tone. “Focus - hey, eyes on me.” Irises snapping up to his, you do as you’re told. “That’s a good girl.” Jesus Christ, you didn’t expect a single ounce of praise to come from him.

Simon’s dominant hand then slides down, the pad of his thumb finding the reddened nub at the peak of your sex. Your hips jolt when he presses the thick digit against you, but with his free hand on your back, he brings you in. He applies pressure, prompting you to lean on him, his mouth seeking out your nipples once again. Slipping his tongue out and over your skin, it forces you to whine, feeling your hips rock involuntarily against him. With the stimulation coming from his thumb and tongue, you find yourself relaxing, resting on the weight of him.

“Feels good, yeah?”

Your fingers find the back of his head, your own dropping back. “Yes…”

It’s overwhelming and sexy as all fucking hell. Simon can see the marks he’s left on your neck, shoulder and chest, and he grins, knowing they’ll be there in the morning even if he won’t be able to see them. He doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb, keeping the same amount of pressure as he swirls little circles over your sensitive clit. His mouth is sucking on you, too, his tongue running over your nipples in wet and passionate swipes. And altogether, it works like a charm, lubing you up enough for him to slide entirely inside.

“Simon.”

“You’ve got it, yeah… there we go…” The only hand that moves is the one that was touching your clit, fingers now attaching themselves to your hip once you’re entirely seated on him.

“Fuck me,” You’re clinging to his shoulders, both arms wrapping around his neck. He’s removed himself from your tits, resting his face in the slope of your shoulder, just beside your throat.

He’s searing hot and filling you completely, his tip seated deep in your guts as you pulse around him violently. And Simon’s aware of his size, so he waits for you to make the first move. And he snuggles into you while he does, resting in this brief lull.

Feeling another person surrounding his body like this brings out a sensation from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in genuine years, decades, even. He feels like he can relax in your embrace, like he can let go with you.

“Oh, god.” Head dropping back, you shift slightly, beginning to move.

“Yes,” He encourages you, reaching up to hold your neck. “That’s it.” And then he pulls, bringing you down to him. Your lips meet in a small clash, tongues colliding as soon as you make contact.

This entire event awakens something inside of you. It’s like he’s consuming you, taking over your body and every part of your mind. And you’ve felt like this for weeks, months; you’ve ached for him. At night you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, and during the day, you’ve dreamt about him. It was so hard to be in his presence, knowing you couldn’t have him, that he probably didn’t even want you in the first place. But he does; he wants you just as badly as you want him.

Simon sways his body with you, leaning back against the head of the bed. He uses this slight change in position as leverage to shove his hips up into you, giving you small and shallow thrusts. But he lets you do most of the work, grinning while admiring the way in which you find your pace.

“You’re a tight thing, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, eyes lowering to stare at the space where you’re repeatedly connecting. And then they furrow, mouth dropping open when he finally witnesses you lifting and lowering your hips. “And look how well you’re taking me…”

“You’re… so fucking big.” Lowering your head, you then offer a half smirk, shaking your head at him. “Guess you really do have reason to be cocky, huh?”

“Damn right, and I’m glad you know it.”

“Jesus - fuck!” The first word is said through a scoff, the second through a high yelp.

“You feel like makin’ fun of me again?” Simon then challenges, having lifted his feet and planted them directly on the edge of the bed. He uses this leverage to punch himself up into you, huffing out a sharp breath when he feels you fall onto his chest.

“Fuck, baby - I’m sorry.” You immediately lift yourself up, looking down at his bandages. “Are you alright?”

The fact that you’ve so easily been able to call him baby makes Simon smile, his teeth even showing for the first time that you’ve ever seen.

“You need to stop asking me that.” He says in that deeply, gritty tone. And then he shoves you forward again, knees high in the air as he lets you rest over his chest.

Your arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as he begins to shove himself up into you. Sucking in a deep breath, he grunts out beside your face, his arms wrapping around your naked torso. He’s starting to feel sweaty, sticky, his skin warm and glistening. And at this point he’s bouncing you on his cock, your ass slapping down onto his pelvis with every move. He let you have your fun; now, he’s fucking you.

“Oh my fucking god,” You’re trying desperately to keep up to move yourself back against him, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s punching the breath from your lungs, one hand sliding up your back to hold your head.

He lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you alright?”

“S-Shut up, Ghost.” Comes your stuttered response, now gasping from how deep he’s hitting.

“Uh-uh,” He tuts, “Say my name, sweetheart. Sounds so good comin’ outta that pretty little mouth.”

This makes you laugh, a small hiccup of a sound due to his intense movements beneath you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, wanna hear you say it when we fuck.”

“Oh, so this is going to happen again?” You tease, feeling his groans vibrate through his chest. Jesus, he’s so sturdy.

Leaning forward, he grabs a fistful of your ass, growling into your ear, “I damn sure want it to.”

You take advantage of his closeness, turning your head to capture his lips. “You’re so fucking deep.”

“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He whispers in return against your lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

At this point, he’s panting beneath you, sliding down a little further on the bed. You move with him, still holding onto his firm body with a wild desperation. And he keeps your lips on him, shoving his tongue inside your mouth while keeping his brutal pace.

If you were dripping before it’s nothing compared to now. You’re leaking down his shaft, the creaminess of your arousal coating him entirely. And he can feel it; it’s making his eyes roll back into his head.

“You’re gonna make me cum, squeezin’ around me like that.”

One of your hands lowers, moving down to hold onto his bicep, and then his forearm. Turning your head to the side, you smile, ignoring his comment while you breathe out lightly, “I love your tattoos, baby.”

“You just love praisin’ me, don’t you?” In two seconds, that tattooed forearm rises, hand grabbing your face. “Bring those pretty eyes back to me.” And when you look into those endlessly deep eyes of his, he grits out sternly, “Eyes. On. Me.”

“Simon,” It’s a small whine, one uttered when you feel him strike gold inside. “Please make me cum.” Your head drops to his shoulder, and what he does neck surprises you. He kisses your fucking cheek.

“I can do that for you.”

As if things couldn’t become more intense, he takes it up a notch, ramming into you and forcing your face into the crook of his neck. His hand on the back of your head holds you there, and when you bite into his neck, he groans into the nighttime air.

“Yesss, baby, don’t stop. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” He’s so big beneath you, his muscles bulging against your naked chest. And he revels in the feeling of your soft tits pressing against him, your beautiful body bouncing as it gets fucked by him.

“Fuck me,” Comes his gasped out curse, muttering, “Such a good pussy.”

“Fu-uck,”

He’s pounding against that delicate spot that’s making you go dumb, your arms and thighs beginning to shake around him.

“G-Ghost, I’m…”

“Say my name, say it again.” His voice is deep and thick, stuttering a bit. “One more time for me.” His thighs are flexing beneath your ass, one arm wrapped around your back and the other gripping the flesh on your hip.

It’s overwhelming, the feeling shoving its way through your body, coursing through your veins. The excitement of it all is something you haven’t felt in too long of a time, if ever before. Swallowing, you gather yourself enough to do as he says, once again, uttering his name.

Immediately after, he’s cumming, hips breaking their pace and length throbbing inside you. His forceful shoves against your g-spot make you crumble above him, onto him, your body shaking. The way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he can do anything, makes him think you feel safe with him. And you do. The world could be crumbling and still, you’d cling to him, knowing he’d hold you in his arms.

Quivering limbs press against him, your body going a bit numb from the intensity of it all. Your center pulses around his girth, squeezing him tightly while you wash him in your arousal. You can feel his, too, the milky ropes shooting into you, and you revel in the fact that your body has made his feel this good. He’s breathing harshly beside you, pectorals flexing against your naked chest. You’ve never heard him groan so forcefully, not even when he’s out working. And that makes you smile, knowing you bring those noises out of him. A blissful smile crosses your face, body rolling in waves as you experience your own high above him.

“Fuck me,” His accent is thick, coating the shell of your ear. He’s petting at your hair, body beginning to slump down on the mattress beneath him. “You okay there, princess?”

You’re quiet, still trying desperately to find your breath. Swallowing, you nod, turning your head to kiss his throat, breathing heavily against him. And while his body relaxes, he holds yours above him, urging you to do the same.

“Maybe I should get hurt a little more often,” He looks over, pointer finger curling under your chin, gently lifting you to look at him. “If it means seein’ you.”

Part Two

#Jesus Christ #I need him #Simon baby I love you #I really do #you're my big beefy man #Simon Riley #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x reader #Simon Ghost Riley #Simon Ghost Riley x you #Simon Ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley smut #Simon Ghost Riley smut #Ghost cod #Ghost Call of Duty

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luvzshy · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! Could you please do one where reader meets Billie at the Grammys or something and like their love story

a/n: love love loooove thissss✨💕

Love among the stars

The excitement was palpable as you stepped onto the red carpet at the Grammys, flashes of cameras capturing every moment. You tried to soak in the experience, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight would be more memorable than just another industry event.

Inside the venue, the atmosphere was buzzing. You found yourself starstruck, glancing around at all the familiar faces. As you made your way through the crowd to your seat, you spotted Billie Eilish. She was talking to someone, laughing softly, her brown hair framing her face in soft waves. Her blue eyes caught the light in a way that made it impossible to look away.

And then, somehow, she looked up and caught you staring. Your heart jumped in your chest as she held your gaze for a beat longer than expected. A soft, genuine smile tugged at her lips, and before you knew it, you smiled back, feeling that strange connection that can’t quite be explained.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. When it was finally her turn to accept a Grammy, she walked to the stage with an easy confidence, thanking everyone in that humble, low-key way she’s known for. It was surreal seeing her up close, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d noticed you, even just for a second.

After the show, at the after-party, things were more relaxed. You were standing near the bar, taking a break from the small talk when someone nudged your arm. You turned to see Billie standing there, just as casually as if you’d known each other forever.

“Hey,” she said, her voice calm but friendly, as if this wasn’t the first time she was meeting you.

Your nerves kicked in, but you played it cool. “Hey. Congrats on the wins tonight. You really killed it up there.”

“Thanks,” she replied, her blue eyes softening as she looked at you. “It’s a wild night, huh? I feel like I’ve been running on autopilot.” She chuckled lightly, glancing around. “Saw you earlier, though. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”

Your mind raced, but you managed to keep it together. “Yeah, I noticed. I didn’t want to bother you, though.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Billie said with a shrug. “Honestly, these things get kinda overwhelming after a while. You wanna get out of here? There’s a quieter spot by the balcony. Could use some fresh air.”

Surprised, but not about to turn down the offer, you nodded. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

The two of you slipped away from the noise and headed to the balcony, where the cool night air hit you, offering a much-needed breather from the chaos inside. You leaned against the railing, side by side, the city lights glowing in the distance.

“So,” she started, glancing at you with a half-smile, “how’s your night been?”

You laughed softly, relaxing a little more. “Honestly, it’s been kind of surreal. First Grammys, so it’s all a bit much. But meeting you? Definitely the highlight.”

She raised an eyebrow, amusement playing on her lips. “Meeting me, huh? I don’t know about that, but I’m glad I didn’t freak you out.”

You shook your head, smiling. “No, not at all. Actually, it’s kinda nice to just talk without all the noise and cameras.”

Billie nodded, her gaze softening again. “Yeah, I get that. I don’t always vibe with all the glitz and glam, but moments like this? They’re real.”

The conversation flowed naturally from there, as if you’d known each other for years. Time passed quickly as you talked about everything from music to random life moments, and for once, neither of you felt the weight of the world watching.

That night on the balcony was the start of something special. In the weeks that followed, you and Billie found yourselves texting, meeting up in quiet cafes, and slowly building something more. Fame never got in the way of what felt real between you. It was the little moments that mattered—the ones away from the cameras and the chaos.

And every time you thought back to that first night at the Grammys, you smiled, knowing it was the start of a love story that was just as real as it was unexpected.

#billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine

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the-s1lly-corner · 9 months ago

Note

Fluff Alphabet with Angel Dust

J , K, R and X 🙏🙏

J K X WITH ANGEL DUST

Sorry for knocking down a letter, my personal maximum is 3!!

Need to do a character study on angel so I can better understand him and his behaviors

Obviously reader is a dude LMAO

JEALOUSY:

He does not handle jealousy well at all. Hes likely to over compensate to try to get your attention, or on the flip side he might sulk away and get a drink. Really it depends on the day. Neither are particularly.. good.. although this is in response of you spending time with others or trying to test him.. do not test him. Actually dont test anyone. When someone flirts with you or tries to make moves and you're not reciprocreating, that's an entirely different story. He makes a show to the other person that you're taken; usually through kissing you.. sloppily.

KISS:

Looooves kissing you hard and with tongue, though over time he comes to appreciate smaller more innocent displays of affectiong that are sweeter. Definitely something he needs to get used to but hes hooked, besides seeing your face light up and go red is worth it. Loves kissing you on the mouth. He loves being kissed on the mouth, neck, and cheeks

XRAY:

He can read you fairly well but theres a good chance he might not reach out if you're upset. Personally basing this on the pilot when he sees charlie upset, and decides to walk away instead of checking on her... over time he might get better at that, but it's definitely not something he's exactly.. used to or feels equipped for.. though hes good at hyping you up and raising you when you're already in high spirits!

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x you #angel dust x reader #angel dust imagine

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icypenguin · 7 months ago

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★~ Pirate!kaeya headcanons

HEY EVERYONEE i know i haven’t post much huehue but ihope you’ll like this one! i’ve decided to make other character since i realised the characters i’ve made fanfics for are the same T-T but anyway i hope you like the idea of thsi one so please enjoyyyy!

notes! the reader’s and kaeya relationship here will be seen as romantic and reader is supposedly female.

- we all know he’s a flirty type, he won’t be that strict nor relaxed. like if he gets a mission then it becomes his priority but it’s not like he’s desperate to get whatever reward he will get. besides, isn’t his top priority you?

- i can sense that he looooves treasures, to be specific.. moras. He will buy his darling anything they want. literally spoiling them with gold, diamonds, whatever you want!

- i feel like he would atleast have 3 piercings… im thinking on ears, eyebrows, and tongue. what do we think about lips though hmmmuehehehehe

- no cuz you guys be holding hands anytime anywhere. PDA are no problem for him like you could possibly makeout with him in the center of the ship and noone will mind???

- okay but when i said he likes treasures- his favourite and most cherished is you. he will be super protective of you when there’s enemies around. it’s not like he doesn’t trust your fighting skills- he just doesn’t want his treasure to be dirty by a fool’s hand.

- he’s so often seen with you on the helm, helping you learn how to steer the wheel. he’s got his hand on your waist and the other guiding your hand to spin the wheel.

- pet names: treasure, darling, love, birdie, doll, pretty, gorgeous.

~small drabble~

the sea was filled with soft waves, the sky was in a yellow hue, the sun was setting down, and the wind was flowing through your hair. your beloved boyfriend was steering the wheel, making sure the path was right and there were no rocks ahead. “love..” you walked to him, admiring his focus gaze upon the ocean. “well, well, well, if it isn’t my darling who’s here for her boyfriend…”. kaeya turned around to look at you with a smirk on his face. his hand soon forgotten the wheel as it finds it way to your waist, pulling you closer to him till no space was in between. you chuckled when he kissed your cheek so lovingly. “need anything?” he asked “no.. just missing you” “can’t stand being without me for just an hour? my, my what a greedy woman..” his tone was playful and teasing. your cheeks gone to a pink shade, knowing that you really can’t stand being without him… “are you opposite on the idea?” you teased back. “oh no, ofcourse not…” he raised his other hand from the wheel to your hair and tuck it at the back of your ear.

“how’s it looking? good?” “well.. we’re supposed to be challenged by a stormy night.. but fortunately there won’t be any rocks or anything blocking our way” “ah that’s nice to hear.. i guess tight cuddles tonight?” getting a chuckle for response, your cheeks gone red at the music-like voice. “i suppose so…” he shifts for a bit, taking off his pirate hat and bringing it to your head. “care to help?” you smiled at the offer and put your hands on the steering wheel “aye aye captain!”. you span the wheel to the left, following the way on the map. soon, you had to turn right but you span it too much, leaving the ship to do a harsh turn. “whoa, easy there..” kaeya guided your hand by spinning the wheel to where it should be. “no need to rush, sweet thing. got the night for us.” he smirked while looking at you. “s-sorry.. might gone too nervous..” “oh hoho, are you nervous ‘cause i’m here?”. you blushed in embarrassment while nodding your head. “no need to be, gorgeous. it’s not like i’m challenging you” he smirked once again as your cheeks gone redder and redder. a puff was heard from you before he speaks again, “wel let’s enjoy the night, shall we?” he took your hand lead you to the bow, where you laid your head on his shoulder and watched as the dolphins went by and the stars shine.

TYSM FOR READINGGG! reblogs, likes, and follows are appreciated! advices are accepted as well! once again, thankyou and have a good dayyy!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya #kaeya fluff #kaeya x you

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago

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stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 7, “i’m drunk in the back of the car and i cried like a baby coming home from the bar. said, ‘I'm fine,’ but it wasn't true.”

a/n: sad, but gets hopeful! one more part after this, i think :)

“i’m glad i never ended up having a party at my house.”

danny fell into step beside y/n, their shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. they had to park all the way down the street from jack’s house because there were so many other people here. because it was so late at night, the air in beacon hills was cool. y/n hugged her arms around herself, wishing she hadn’t worn a tank top beneath her jacket. her breath came out like a fog as she spoke.

danny made a face at the thought, “too much work. imagine the clean up.”

“yeah, no thanks,” she shivered.

the music coming from the house ahead of them got louder as they neared it. some popular radio song reverberated in their ears. y/n felt her heart beat in her throat, thumping along to the bass. danny lit up once they reached the door, excited to drink, dance.

he always was the party type. he had so much fun moving to the music, losing himself in the crowd.

on the other hand, there was y/n, who didn’t normally drink at parties. she was a go-to for being the designated driver, choosing to watch out for her friends and play with whatever animal the owner of the house had sniffing around.

tonight, however, she wanted to let loose. needed to, more so.there was nothing better after a heartbreak than getting messy-drunk at a high school party.

it had been a week. a whole week since her and stiles’ fall out. a week since she’d seen his face. sure, she saw his figure in the hallways sometimes, but she would run the other way. he’d start to chase her down, but danny was usually close by and he’d shoot stiles a glaring look. it turned him away. he’d texted her nonstop, called her about a million times. but, after the fourth day, when he realized she just wouldn’t be responding, he stopped. all lines of communication fell out. any hope of fixing what was broken was squashed out.

when y/n thought about it too much, she felt sick. nausea tumbled through her stomach. her head became fuzzy. stupid, naive girl, she’d think to herself. it’s all your fault. so, every single time her mind started to wander, she’d shove her nose into her homework, pick up a shift at work, get so high out of her mind that reality felt like a television show.

tonight, her choice of thought erasure was getting wasted at a high school party.

y/n squeezed her hand around danny’s bicep once they walked in. in response, he kept her close to his side as they wormed through jack’s house, in search of their friend group. eventually, they found leo, megan, jack, and a few others. they were in the kitchen, standing around the island counter. glasses were scattered around the house already, though the party had just started barely an hour or so ago. the group cheered when y/n and danny came through the door, holding up some of the red solo cups.

megan came to y/n’s side, her tipsy stature morphing her usually quiet attitude into something more sentimental. she clutched onto y/n’s arm. she touched y/n’s cheek and gushed over the curls swinging over her shoulders. “i loooove the hair, girl. you look so pretty with it like that. you’re always pretty, though. oh, my god, you know we haven’t hung out in forever and it makes me so sad. please, please say we’ll hang out soon.”

y/n giggled at megan’s state, wrapping a securely protective arm around megan’s waist. “i promise, okay?”

y/n was the first to admit that she’d been so caught up with boys over the last few months. she hadn’t exactly pushed away her friends, but she hadn’t prioritized them, either. she was in her head with her own issues, and didn’t make the time others. it made her feel a little guilty. but, before that feeling could snowball into the depressive heartbreak she’d been plagued with, megan continued.

“what’s new with you? what have you been up to? i hope you’re not still sad about sam. you should know you’re so much fucking better than him. you deserve so much fucking better than him. he’s such a whore. fuck him.”

“no, i’m over that,” y/n said, confidently waving megan off through a giggle. and she was telling the truth. “i’ve just been…hanging out. ya know. working.” her gaze became distant, words slow as stiles’ face flashes through her memories. y/n didn’t say what she had been really doing. it was embarrassing to admit that she’d gotten herself into another shitty situation with a guy.

though, megan squinted her eyes, analyzing her friend’s words. she knew, “oh, no. oh, no, no, no. fucking stilinksi. i fucking knew once danny told us- okay. listen- you don’t even have to say anything, kay? tonight, we’re just gonna have fun. here, jack, pour us some shots!”

y/n couldn’t help but grin in response. there wasn’t time to imagine stiles- to envision his lips ghosting the curve of her skin, to try to remember what it felt like when he’d draw out movement from her body. because, next thing she knew, megan was shoving two to three red solo shot cups into y/n’s hand- all in a row. and y/n didn’t let herself hesitate. she swallowed them easily, ignoring the burn in her throat, her heart, her chest, and head.

jack cracked a smirnoff open for her. danny caught y/n’s eyes as she took a sip and gave her a thumbs up. when she waved him off, he winked, then wandered his way into the living room, where people were dancing. he’d mentioned something about ethan being there. y/n looped her arm through megan’s, pointed in that direction. megan nodded excitedly and pulled them to the makeshift dance floor.

they danced for what felt like hours but, really, was only maybe forty five minutes. jack and leo, avid partiers, continued shoving shots into their friend’s hands, traveling between the bar in the kitchen and the dance floor. y/n losing track of time turned into her losing track of how much she was drinking. one smirnoff turned into numerous empty glasses that she’d abandon on the coffee table beside her.

she had to take her jacket off after a while, sweating too much in the jean material. y/n tossed it, absentmindedly, on the couch. she probably wouldn’t remember it there later. she’d probably have jack in a frenzy, texting everyone tomorrow about random articles of clothing in his living room. she’d probably lose the 20 stuffed into the pocket to some wandering hands. but it didn’t matter.

nothing really mattered. not when her favorite song played, not when megan spun her around, when danny would yell lyrics into her face and ruffle her hair. y/n just kept throwing her head back, giggling like a mad woman.

it didn’t matter. it did not matter to her. the entire, fucked up situation with stiles. it didn’t matter that he had used her, that he had been seeing lydia the whole time. it did not matter that he had kept so many secrets from her. it did not matter that she broke her own rules, that she let him get beneath her skin, that she fell in love with hi

it did not really matter if she loved him.

y/n turned on her heel, dancing around in circles with megan, both girls holding each other’s hands like they were schoolgirls. her hair whipped over her shoulders, in waves behind her back. her eyes couldn’t focus on the blurred, bright lights passing her vision as they spun. the bodies surrounding them turned into smudges against her vision. she couldn’t tell who was who.

but she thought she saw stiles standing in the doorway to the kitchen, clear as day.

y/n stalled in her tracks. she nearly fell over from how quickly she stopped. megan bumped into her shoulder, grabbed y/n’s arm to steady herself.

y/n couldn’t breathe. she squinted her eyes, rubbed at them, smudging her mascara.

her sight cleared and there was nobody there.

megan laughed loudly in y/n’s ear, tugging on her arm, “why’d you stop?! keep going! spin, spin!”

y/n took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the spot where she had pictured stiles. “i need air,” she mumbled.

megan yelled, “what are you saying?”

y/n pulled her arm out of megan’s, “i’m going outside,” she barely looked at her friend. this is why she didn’t like to drink.

y/n stumbled through the house, being shoved left and right by the sweaty, dancing teenagers suffocating her. she didn’t know when she’d started crying, but her face was slick was tears. she wiped her hands across her cheeks, smearing more mascara and eyeliner, blackening her palms. she couldn’t focus her thoughts, nor did she feel like herself. this is why she didn’t like to drink. because she wasn’t logical, she was out of control.

y/n found the side door, the one that led to jack’s garage, and slammed it shut behind her. once she reached the garage floor, she slowly lowered herself to the bottom step, hugged her knees to her chest. she didn’t know if she was having a panic attack or a full mental breakdown. but she couldn’t breathe. and she just wanted to be sober so she could figure out her shit.

y/n pressed a hand to her chest, hoping the pressure would do something: ground her, snap her back to reality. all she could do was sob, rock back and forth like a baby. as she did so, her phone fell out of her back pocket. somehow, her camera roll was open on the screen. staring up at her. a picture of stiles and winnie was there, taunting her.

y/n didn’t have any inhibitions, too far gone to know what crossed the line of boundaries she’d made when she was sober. so, she picked up her phone, her hands shaking.

and she hit the little telephone next to his contact. she stared at the picture as it rung.

she needed him. she needed him to hold her, bare-naked under his bedsheets, warm against his chest. needed him to rake his fingers through her hair and to kiss her forehead, call her baby again. even just say her name. she’d even pretend, like she did a dozen times, just for him, that she didn’t notice his lips linger there. she’d pretend it never happened.

anything for him. if he wanted her and lydia- that was fine. he could have her. she was his, completely, fully. all of his. every inch of her skin that he had laid eyes, that he had touched his with fingertips, every inch of skin that he had nipped at with his teeth- it was his.

he picked up immediately.

“y/n? oh, my god, i’m so fucking- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what i did-“

“stiles,” she cut him off, voice barely above a whisper.

his tone instantly softened. a soothing one replaced his usually hectic vocal demeanor, “oh, baby.” he knew, from just the smallest whimper barely uttered between her lips, he knew that she didn’t want to fight. she didn’t call to argue. she didn’t call to make up, either. she just called to hear him, to talk to him. she needed him.

she’d never know how much he needed her, too.

his voice, breathy in her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. y/n sniffled, knuckles white on the hand which held her phone. her head lolled down, chin hiding into her chest.

“what’s wrong?” he asked.

y/n chewed on her lip for a moment, willing it to stop wobbling, “i mis-“ she stopped herself, jamming a different word onto what she was saying to cover it up, “i mistake. i-um, didn’t mean to call you.

it took him a second to reply, “oh. ok.” he knew it wasn’t true, but he didn’t know what else to say. he didn’t want to press her into a conversation she didn’t want to have. but he didn’t want to end the call. he wanted to be whatever she needed in this moment.

they sat there in silence for a good two minutes, not even the sound of their own ragged, anticipatory breaths making any noise in the other’s ear. y/n’s hand was shaking. she loosened her tight grip on her knees and stretched her legs out in front of her. the shift in position helped her breath a little bit better.

she sniffled again, tilted her head back. as she stared at the ceiling, she suddenly laughed. “i didn’t make a fucking mistake, stiles. god, i meant to call you.”

“oh, good,” his tone remained still and flat. he was focused on reading her words. there was meaning between the lines that he couldn’t read. and she was acting strange. he was decoding everything.

“i mean to call you because every single second that i’m not with you, i feel like i’m going to die!” she exclaimed, tossing her other hand in the air.

stiles rubbed his lips together, brows furrowed, “i’m glad that you called.” he, also, felt like he was going to die without her. but, he didn’t know if he should tell.

if only stiles knew that if he would have just told her, honestly, how he felt, as soon as he felt it, months ago, this entire situation could have been avoided. alas, it was a lesson he was still learning.

“good,” y/n huffed. hearing him calmed her down. knowing he was there coaxed her off the edge of anxiety. now, her drunken self took back over her body. and drunk y/n wanted to dance, “okay. i’m going back to the party-“

“party?” stiles interrupted her, his concerned tone back. she was annoyed that he cared where she was at. he didn’t have any right to that feeling- though, also, it made her feel good, that jealousy, that toxicity.

drunk y/n was feeling a lot.

she nodded, though he couldn’t see her, stating matter of factly, “party. i’m at a party, stiles. i’m drunk, and i’m having a blast. well, i was having a blast until you popped into my mind. god, do you know how badly i want to punch you in the face? i just wanna give you, like, a knuckle sandwich, ya know? maybe being hit will make you figure your shit out. okay, whatever. like i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, i’m going back to the party. i’m going to go dance with my friends-“

stiles had just left the animal clinic, where he, lydia, allison, and scott had met to discuss plans to combat the killer still in beacon hills. chills were lingering on his skin, thinking about all of the photographs stolen from the station, picturing dead students cut at the throat. every time they’d pull another out of the beige manila folder, y/n’s face would appear in his head, attached to a battered, beaten corpse. he’d been worried sick about her the last week, especially since the murderous rampages had slowly spread, closer to home. and, they were more vicious as every day passed. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t stay outside her house every night, parked in his jeep down the road, barely able to sleep.

her, drunk at a party, was the last situation stiles needed her to be in. it was dangerous. he didn’t want to show up to a crime scene with her corpse lying within a body bag. he couldn’t lose her.

of course, she didn’t know that that was a possible ending to her night. everyone knew about the serial killer, but average citizens of beacon hills didn’t really seem concern themselves with something that seemed so out of reach. teenagers, especially, were naive and vulnerable to things like that.

“who’s with you?” he interceded her words, again. y/n groaned in response and went to complain about how he always did shit like that. but, he spoke again, more firmly this time, “y/n, who’s with you?”

“my friends, just danny, megan, jack, leo. a bunch of other people i don’t know,” she listed off, staring into space. “why do you care?”

“where is it?” stiles demanded. sure, he didn’t have claws, fangs, or anything that would stop a literal supernatural serial killer besides a beat-up baseball ball and his annoying attitude which would eventually drive the creature even more insane. but, he needed to be there. heather had died at a party. the ending scene of a slasher film always happened at a party. parties were breeding grounds for death, as if they were the tenth circle of dante’s inferno or something.

y/n, danny, leo, megan- they were all sitting ducks. targets for something really bad yet to happen.

so, he needed to be there. convince her to leave, if he could. if she wouldn’t leave, he’d stay. he’d stay for her.

anything for her.

y/n hung up on the phone once he said he was on the way. she’d scoffed and said, “yeah, fucking right. danny will beat the shit out of you.”

the beeping tone of a hung up line hit stiles like a truck. he still didn’t quite understand what he had done. if he did, he’d had fixed it by now. he was always good at fixing things. maybe he didn’t have glowing red eyes, or the ability to predict death, but he always was able to fix the jeep. he pulled his dad out of his alcoholic pit after his mom’s death. he was a problem solver. he was good at it.

but, he didn’t what was broken.

tonight, he intended to find out. he didn’t care if danny beat the shit out of him, or if y/n wouldn’t listen. he’d wait for her to open her ears to his incessant bickering, holding an ice pack to whatever bruises danny had left. he knew she’d break eventually.

if she really was done with him, if she really didn’t want to hear him out, why else had she called him?

–

stiles broke about a billion traffic laws. but he managed to get there, quickly, in one piece.

he couldn’t locate y/n anywhere inside the house, but did find all of her friends dancing in the living room. had they been there the whole time? did they even know y/n was on her own? probably not. you’d think, with a serial killer on the loose, they’d care more about each other’s safety.

his jaw dropped at the sight of them, carelessly floating through the crowd while one of their friends was drunk and alone, in some dark corner of this house. it pissed him off, as did all of the people pushing against him, alcohol sloshing over the rims of their cups and onto his shoes, the smell of sweat, and the sight of teenagers making out against walls, doors, other couples.

he had always hated people, but parties reminded him just how much of that hatred existed within his chest.

stiles checked the upstairs bedrooms, bathrooms, called her name out, down the basement steps, peeked into the empty garage, and even looked inside a pantry in case she’d stuffed herself somewhere like that.

stiles was grateful to, eventually, find her, outside, on the edge of the pool. her sneakers and socks were flung into the yard behind her. she swung her bare feet in the chlorinated water, completely soaking the bottoms of her jeans. y/n’s palms were planted on the concrete beside her thighs, her head thrown back, eyes closed as she swayed to the music. she didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

stiles huffed when he saw her, the deep, worried breath rattling in his chest. “y/n,” he said, hoping to garner her attention. his hands flung about him, as they normally did when he spoke.

she didn’t seem to care that he was there, but she definitely heard him. he knew she had because he watched y/n’s shoulders flinch, ever so slightly, at the sound of her own name.

stiles squatted down beside her, curling a soft hand around her bicep, “y/n, hey-“

she pulled her arm away, as if his hand was made of lava. “go away, stiles.” his hand stilled in the air where she’d pushed it, fingers flexing at the rejection.

stiles then pressed the hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration, impatience. “y/n, please-“

she looked up at him, jaw slack from her drunken state. her eyes looked darkened, the deadly stare enhanced by her ruined makeup. “what the fuck do you want?”

stiles met her eyes. his face softened, concern overwhelmingly her features. just seeing her face, though it was a wreck- it sent goosebumps across his skin. she was so fucking pretty, even though she’d been crying. why had she been crying?

“i want to talk to you-“

“go away,” she waved him off. y/n then pulled her legs from the pool, dripping water all over the concrete. stiles’ eyes moved down her body, ensuring she was in one piece. he noticed the goosebumps all over her bare arms. she was freezing cold.

he stood with her, following her quick feet. “where’s your jacket?” stiles began to pull off his zip up jacket while she grabbed her shoes. he reached out for her arm again. his fingertips on her shoulder felt like a zap of electricity.

y/n flinched away again. she whipped her head back towards him, a deep frown enlisted on her features, “fuck off, stiles! don’t even try pretend like you care about that shit right now! seriously, go the fuck home! i told you not to come!”

stiles took a step away from her. he wished he knew what he had done so fucking badly. he wanted to kiss her eyelids. he wanted to clean off her makeup, wrap her up in his bedsheets, rub circles into her back until she fell asleep, soundly in his hood.

but, all of that couldn’t really be at the forefront of his mind right now. it couldn’t matter. he was here to protect, whether she wanted him there or not. and, she very obviously did not want him at this party. well, too damn bad. he pushed the thoughts aside.

“i’m not going anywhere,” stiles threw his hands up, as if to challenge her. if she wanted him gone, she’d have to drag him out of there. he continued to follow her. she found a chair and sat down in order to put her shoes on. he continued, “look, i don’t know what i did, but you don’t even understand what’s happening in this town. i have to protect-“

“bro, get the fuck away from her!”

stiles felt a pressure against his chest as someone’s abnormally strong had pushed him away from y/n’s presence. she looked up from her shoe laces that she was struggling to tie, brows furrowing at the sound of stiles’ grunt. she watched as stiles stumbled over his feet. he straightened up, quick, and met the eye of his assailant.

“oh, fuck off, dude,” stiles tilted his head to the side, slowly shaking it in annoyance. his jaw clenched, fists flexed at his sides. he took an intimidating step forward.

y/n glanced between stiles and sam owens, taking a deep, shuddering breath. sam puffed out his chest, towering over stiles by a couple of inches. although he was buffer, taller, a couple years older, he didn’t seem nearly as threatening as stiles did. the devilish qualities to his features seemed to heighten themselves in defiance to sam’s presence.

the black haired boy glared his eyes at sam, pupils blown out out with a stormy darkness. she knew it was wrong, but seeing him so angry at sam- y/n couldn’t help but admit that it made her stomach twirl.

they’d never really had the sam talk, at least she hadn’t told him every single thing. she’d mentioned sam, once, when she and stiles were talking about something else. it was offhanded, when she brought him up. danny, however, had spilled his guts to stiles about the short situationship y/n and that “douchebag” had been in all summer.

and stiles was pissed the fuck off. he knew about sam’s girlfriend at college. he knew sam had used y/n for sex over the summer. he knew that sam had told her he loved her right before breaking up with her.

oh, was stiles angry.

that was, after all, his girl now. and nobody was gonna fuck with stiles’ girl. nobody was gonna fuck with stiles.

he stepped forward, now nearly chest to chest with sam, who replied, “who the fuck are you? y/n told you to leave! want me to show you the door, kid?”

“who the fuck am i? watch your mouth, dickhead. you have no fucking business here-“

y/n quickly stood, wary hands before herself, “stiles, it’s not worth it, i promise.” she stalled his words, but stiles wouldn’t even look over at her. his dark eyes bore a hole through sam, and she knew he was probably going to hit him.

y/n, who was now feeling quite sobered up, glanced to the house. she knew that if they started fighting, stiles would get his ass handed to him. sam was a wrestler in college, the best in his weight class. he was a fucking state champion.

so, she needed to get to danny, who was definitely stronger than stiles, at least. he’d probably be able to keep them apart long enough for her to calm stiles down.

but, she didn’t have any time, because sam was mouthing stiles off again. and stiles really was the best at banter. so, he was getting himself into a lot of trouble.

“you put your fucking hands on her, and she told you to stop. makes it my goddamn business-“

“oh, my god, shut the fuck up!” stiles rolled his eyes at sam. he opened his mouth to shoot off some other sarcastic remark when sam reared back a fist and clipped the side of stiles’ face. stiles nearly fall back on the concrete alongside the pool, but he caught himself. having a werewolf as a best friend had taught him a thing or two. so, he was ready to fight.

stiles hit sam in return, most likely breaking his hand- definitely breaking his hand, he knew it. but the punch tossed sam onto the lounge chair behind him. it surprised both stiles and y/n, who had to jump out of the way. she nearly getting taken out by sam’s thrown body.

stiles met her eye and the sight of her, standing there, scared, softened him. he reached for her, closing the distance between then within two long strides. he set his hands on her biceps, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left one. blood dripped from his cracked knuckles, bleeding onto her skin. she clutched onto his elbows in response, any anger for him washed away by fear and worry.

“shit, are you okay? i’m so-“

before he could continue, y/n was shoved to the ground. she scraped her palms, cut her elbow open, and busted her tailbone, hard, on the concrete. she thought she hit her chin, too, but she couldn’t really tell, because y/n’s vision blurred from the fall.

sam tackled stiles to the ground with another punch. they landed in the grass, and went at each other. it took y/n a second to clear her pained head, but she managed to push herself up on her feet. some of their classmates continued partying around them, most just ignoring the fight. but a small crowd gathered to watch it, like it was something exciting, something fun to do. the bystanders made y/n feel sick. nobody was doing anything.

she didn’t even take a second to look at stiles, knowing that seeing him like that would stall her in her tracks. instead, she turned towards jack’s house, danny’s name screeching out of her throat.

she ran inside, feeling like she was pushing through thick, slow jello. she continued to yell out his name. luckily, she found him, on the dance floor still. ethan was there, too. good- he could help.

ethan was already meeting her, setting a kind hand on her arm. “what’s wrong?” his eyes glazed over, and he looked to the side, as though he could hear the fight. he ran outside.

danny shoved through the crowd, towards her. he caught her chin in his hand examining her wounds, “what the fuck happened? what’s going on?”

y/n, breathing heavily, sobbing again, stumbled out, “sam and stiles!”

danny pushed aside as he fell into a run. y/n followed, though the burning of her cuts and scrapes became more intense on her nerves. she seethed a breath between her teeth, stumbling over her feet, but pushed on.

ethan had shoved sam to the grass, though he was getting back up, again. danny immediately lunged in between them before sam could get to stiles. danny sent a harsh punch to sam’s gut, forcing him backwards again. danny then grabbed stiles by the shirt, helped him become balanced on his feet, before danny pushed him away, too. ethan came back in, grabbing stiles around the chest to hold him back, though stiles fought against the tight hold. sam somehow got up, again, clutching his stomach, and jumped towards stiles. danny punched him again and shook out his fist after. the look on his face was annoyed, but also, somehow, vengeful. he had been waiting all summer, all of fall, to punch this motherfucker.

“fuck you guys!” sam spat at danny and stiles from his knees, more blood trailing down his already slick chin.

stiles grunted, fighting against ethan’s hold. “you’re a piece of fucking shit! pussy ass bitch-“

“shut the fuck up-“ sam cut him off, then added, “i don’t even give a fuck about that bitch!“

danny shook his head at the words spitting from sam’s mouth. stiles looked angrier, if at all possible. ethan’s hold loosened on him, shocked by the insults sam threw at y/n. ethan did care for her, too, even if he barely knew her. she was everything to danny.

all three boys were seething with anger. sam had called her a bitch, and they did not like that.

sam simply smirked up at them, his words and expression challenging them. he went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but he didn’t get a chance to even take another breath because danny had lunged after him again.

ethan let go of stiles, purposefully, and the boy followed suit. ethan, a little more controlled- even though the situation pissed him off, too- grabbed danny, but not before allowing him to get a few punches in.

y/n ran forward and tried to grab stiles’ arm. she failed, and instead tripped over his shoe. she tumbled into the grass. she quickly pulled herself up, again. when she looked for stiles, she saw him being restricted again, this time by scott’s arm. she didn’t know when he had arrived, but she was glad for the extra help.

it made her heart swell that all of these men cared about her so much to fight sam like they were, but it really needed to end already. it shouldn’t have even gotten out of hand in the first place. she was nauseous, hurting in all of the places she’d been wounded, and extremely tired from the alcohol still coursing through her system.

y/n stood up. scott was rushing out words to his friend, “hey! stiles! stiles, cmon, dude! calm down! stiles!”

“stiles!” y/n called. she crouched down in front of him, reaching for his face.

stiles finally met her eyes and a steady rhythm graciously caught his breath. she cupped his jaw in her delicate fingers. his blood smeared across his face, all over her hands.

a few tears ran down his face, falling into her palms. she didn’t know why he was crying, if it was because of his injuries or his anger. but she wiped them away with her thumbs.

“it’s okay, baby,” she whispered, for only him to hear. “i’m okay, it’s okay. please, just calm down.”

scott, who had let go of stiles, turned to sam, who was standing up from the ground. scott was charismatic, and could usually easily demand people. he put out a cautious hand towards sam, “leave it, buddy. just leave it, trust me,” scott warned him.

stiles slumped forward, on his knees. y/n squatted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. she used all of her strength to stand them up, brushing the sweaty, bloody hair from his face. sam watched her tenderness as she cared for stiles, feeling a surge of jealousy. sam knew he didn’t want her. he knew he had willingly given her up. but, that didn’t mean he wanted anybody else to get to have her.

so, just when it seemed like it was over, sam scoffed, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll leave it. she’s not worth it. she’s just an easy fuck and a cheap ass date-“

now, scott was angry. he roared, and y/n thought she saw his eyes flash a bright red. he went after sam, just to shut his stupid fucking mouth. he swept past y/n and stiles, who clutched onto her waistline protectively. he tried to duck them out of the way, but his foot skidded over the concrete, and they tripped towards the water.

she yelped, clutching onto his neck, as they fell into the pool. the water enveloped them, but tore them from one another. y/n kicked her feet sporadically, shocked by the cold, by the alarming fall they’d taken. she grabbed for stiles’ shirt and gratefully felt his hands fluttering for her hips.

she blew out a lot of bubbles, struggling to hold her breath from all of the shock. stiles tugged her tightly against him, again, and swam them to the surface. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched onto his shoulders. she was shaking, with fear, with pain, from the cold water nipping at her skin. it was all so much all at once that she just laughed.

stiles stared at her as she tossed her head back, giggling like a maniac. he furrowed hit brows, jutted his chin out, “what are you laughing about?”

y/n barely met his eye, continuing to laugh at the fucked up situation. “this is just so stupid!”

he remembered she was drunk and tapped her hip, “okay, let’s get you out of here-“

“it’s stupid, stiles!” she slapped a hand down onto his shoulder. “you’re stupid! that fight was fucking stupid! sam’s stupid! this night is stupid! i’m stupid!”

“why am i- why are you stupid?” he didn’t want to make it all about him. she was clearly grappling with something, something she needed to talk out.

she couldn’t continue to push everything away, including him. “i’m stupid! i let you and that stupid boy fuck up everything! i let it happen not once, but twice! what is it- fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? i’m a fool! you and sam are, like- oh, my god, im just stupid. and that was so fucking stupid- you and sam fighting over me! you guys fought over me, but both of you are the reason im so fucked up in the first place! it’s your guys’ fault and you just had some stupid pissing contest-!”

“me and sam?” stiles sounded out his words carefully, working through her rambles in his fuzzy head.

the night she’d ran out of his house, in a craze, a mess because of his phone blowing up- what had triggered that?

who had called stiles that night? who had been blowing up his phone? was it-

it was lydia.

lydia, the girl everyone at beacon hills high knew he’d had a major crush on for, like basically, ever.

y/n must have looked at his phone. she must have put together, based off of the texts he’d been sent, based off all of the context clues laying right in front of him, that he and lydia were together.

meanwhile, am had had a girlfriend the entire time he and y/n had gone out. every day, he’d see his girlfriend. then, usually on the weekends, when it was dark, he’d bring y/n out like a toy.

y/n thought stiles was just like sam. y/n thought stiles was using her.

she had no clue that she was everything and the sun to him. she had no clue that he needed her like water, that he craved her like wine. she didn’t know that he spent every night rereading their texts, analyzing their conversations, going over their interactions, decoding everything to find a way for her to love him despite her hurt, despite what they agreed on.

she was used to being broken by people who claimed to love her, and stiles was just another part of that system.

so, he needed to tell. right now.

stiles gripped onto her hips, shaking her body just once so she’d meet his eyes. “listen-“

“no, just- get me out-“

“y/n, you beautiful, gorgeous, sweet woman- just listen to me! okay? just listen!” stiles demanded, “i’m not with lydia, alright? i’ve never been with her. i don’t want her- i’m in-“

“stiles!” scott called his name from above, standing at the edge of the pool. his eyes still glowed red, his face was still morphed into that of a wolf. scott’s chest puffed out, in, heavily, with deep, ragged breaths.

stiles knew something was wrong based off of his friend’s demeanor.

“we have to get to the school. lydia’s in trouble.”

stiles looked to y/n, who’s face had lit up from the possibility of stiles’ words. her expression morphed into confusion. he wanted to say something, to say sorry. but, he couldn’t. he couldn’t focus.

so, y/n took her turn to speak, graciously replying with, “stiles, i know there’s so much that you’re still hiding from me-“ she glanced up at scott, who tilted his head with shame, “so, i’m coming with you. if you want me to trust you, i have to come with you. i have to know.”

stiles knew she was right.

so he drug her, head first, into the world of the supernatural.

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

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grievedeeply · 2 years ago

Note

I saw you want requests after playing Survivor

👁👄👁

One shot of Cal running across fem reader that he knew when he was a padiwan (assumed dead)? And realizing why he was always so flustered and agitated by her 🤭🤭

this is so cute i loooove these reunion prompts i'm getting!!

fem!reader (no pronouns used) | tws/tags: death, sorta in depth order 66, use of y/n

JOIN MY NEW TAGLIST!!

they never left — cal kestis

you remembered the day clear in your mind as though it had happened yesterday. the purge. the clones tore through your master as though they were never even there. their last words to you ring true in your mind even ten years later, "run," and you did. you ran, using the force to reach into places they couldn't. you snuck past those who used to be your friends. you thought they cared for you. why had they all had a sudden change of heart? whatever the reason was, you knew you couldn't dwell. it wouldn't do you any good to be miserable.. even if that's all you wanted to do, sometimes.

over the years, you hid your abilities and tucked away your lightsaber for good. you swore to never use the force ever again. your family was gone. the order was gone, your master was gone.. and you couldn't reach out into the force to attempt to sense anyone. it was too risky.

cal. was he gone, too? he was another padawan under the tutelage of jedi master jaro tapal, a kind but intimidating lasat who you had met a few times. but cal.. cal was warm. he was inviting, he was friendly. he was everything an introverted child like yourself needed in a friend. the two of you quickly became rule breakers, sneaking out past curfews and past the temple guards who— looking back on it now— definitely saw you. you snuck out so often to spend time together, knowing that the likelihood of being assigned together on a mission was slim to none, it was the next best thing. maybe even better. at least there wasn't a risk of death, now.

you managed to get on each others nerves often, too. disagreeing and arguing and avoiding each other until you both forgot what happened. though, as you grew older, cal found himself getting more and more.. flustered.. when you were around. his face was constantly red, his palms were sweaty, his chest so tight it practically hurt to breath, and it irritated him. you irritated him. was it your fault? he didn't know. it only happened around you, so it had to be your fault, so he tried to avoid you.

it wasn't as though he treated you poorly. he could never do that. his heart and soul were too kind, too gentle. he didn't have a mean bone in his body.. but he wished you would just go away sometimes, to get that sinking feeling in his stomach to fade as it always did when you left.

now, cal knows what that feeling was. it was the beginnings of a crush. attachment and relationships were forbidden in the order. attachment made you selfish. it lead to jealousy, anger and resentment. a path to the dark side of the force. but now.. the jedi order was no more. it was destroyed years ago, but you hadn't lived to see it.

he heard your name. whispered in hushed voices by people on every planet he visited. your name, and the names of plenty of other jedi. plo koon, aayla secura.. anakin skywalker. but he focused on solely on you. you were killed alongside your master during the purge. you died, and he wasn't there to protect you. he reached into the force over and over, desperately trying to find a trace of you throughout it as time went on, but he found nothing. your death was confirmed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

you were glad word of your death spread fast. it was much easier to hide, and you had to move less often. your life proved more relaxed.. or as relaxed as it could be. despite your supposed death, your world would never be safe as long as you were force sensitive.

this time, kohbo was the world of choice. it was a nice, relatively backwater world in the outer rim. imperial presence, but as long as you kept your head down, you would fit in well. people from all sorts of backgrounds flocked to it. it wasn't like you would be out of place, and that fact was a relief. you'd stick to yourself as you always did, and everything would be well.

you stood, back pressed against the cold stone of the wall as you stared up towards the landing platform. a ship, a S-161 'stinger' XL, sat on the dock. you'd heard that it'd crashed out in the gorge a little ways away from rambler's reach. whoever piloted it knew greez in some way or another, and he'd managed to fix it, along with someone else you didn't know the name of. you didn't much care for their name, anyway. keeping your head down, staying out of trouble, that was the main goal.

until turgle fell off of the platform, screaming as he hurtled towards the ground. before you could even think, you reached out your hand and looked deep into the force, watching as he floated to the ground. his eyes were still closed and he yelped as you caught him, but other than that, he looked confused until his eyes landed on you, your hand extended out in his direction. he might be clumsy, but he wasn't exactly stupid.

you cringed, awkwardly sinking in on yourself as you turned around, ready to go back to your ship and leave koboh and everyone else on this planet behind.. until you heard turgle's voice call out your name.

"you," you heard him come up behind you, out of breath and looking red in the face, "you saved me!" he exclaimed, "with your.. your force magic." he said, eyes wide in disbelief. he stared you down, and you pursed your lips as you stared right back at him. "you're a jedi, aren't you?" he spoke up again, and all you could do was roll your eyes. "ha, of course not. you're just seeing things." you insisted to him with a simple shrug of your shoulders, turning on your heel to leave once again. by now, greez was hot on turgle's tail, his expression wide eyed and excited.

"oh, come on! i saw you," he retorted, "you saved me from imminent death.. and i am in your debt." he told you with a nod of his head, and you sighed. "you don't owe me anything, okay? just keep this quiet and we're even." you responded, and he nodded once again, eagerly. he stood there for a few moments until you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to leave. finally taking the hint, he skipped away from you and into the cantina.

you let out a groan. turgle could barely be trusted. he would blabber about you eventually, and you didn't want to be around when he did. this place wasn't safe anymore. once more, you turned to leave, but heard the sound of greez clearing his throat. you weren't out of the woods, yet.

you shut your eyes, but glanced over your shoulder at him. his arms were crossed over his chest, but he wore a smile.

"there's someone i think you should meet, kid."

you furrowed your brow. you couldn't exactly say no, could you?

greez led you into the cantina through the back entrance, clambering up the steps through heavy breaths. who could he possibly want you to meet? a million questions ran through your mind as you came out into the main area of the cantina, and he gestured for you to take a seat next to him at the bar. you did so after a moment's hesitation, and you sat there, hunched over in your seat, feeling completely exposed. still, no one looked at you any differently as they did before.

"what am i doing here?" you asked, letting your elbow rest uncomfortably against the bar. greez spared you a glance, but kept at his drink. "someone i want you to meet, s'all." he reassured you, finally turning his chair to face you. you blinked a few times. his words did nothing to reassure you, for all you knew, he could be turning you in to the raiders or even the empire. you sighed, but decided to keep your mouth shut.

you watched the door as people entered and exited, waving goodbye to moran as he left for the night. over the few months you'd been staying on koboh, he was the only one you spoke to regularly. he came off as prickly, but the truth was, he was a sad, lonely man who needed a friend. even if making connections, getting attached, wad a bad idea.. moran was there for you when you needed someone, even if he didn't know it. he returned your wave with a smile, and the door slid shut behind him.

"it's been hours, who am i waiting for?" you spoke up again for the first time since you'd arrived. "any minute now," he reassured you, a knowing grin spread across his lips. what was he even talking abou-

the door slid open.. red hair. you froze in your seat, your hands suddenly felt sweaty and your heart fell into your stomach. the boy you once knew was now a man, but you would recognize his face anywhere. cal. he was alive. you practically jumped out of your seat and rushed into him without thinking, arms wrapped around his midsection in a tight hug. "cal.." you muttered his name under your breath, finally finding your voice as you pulled away to get a better look at him.

he had matured, grown into his features. he carried a newly fashioned saber on his belt, and on his shoulders was a cute BD unit. his cheeks were covered in freckles, his eyes still that same beautiful green, splattered with specks of blue.

"i thought.. i thought you were-" cal said, his voice barely a whisper. "i'm sorry," you told him, "i.. wish i knew you were alive." you continued after a pause, still taking in his new look. he looked.. handsome.

"i tried to find you," he swallowed, "through the force."

that feeling was back. the feeling from ten years ago. his palms were sweaty, and his heart pounded against his ribcage. a crush that never faded, that only grew once he saw how you'd grown. you were incredible then.. but now? you were stunning. his breath hitched in his throat, but he lifted his hand to your face. "i.. i'm so glad you're okay." he whispered to you, and you nodded, a small smile on your lips.

"okay, kids. break it up. you can.. make out later, or whatever." greez cut into the moment, his grating voice ringing unpleasantly in cal's ears. he chuckled awkwardly under his breath but took a few steps away from you. still, his eyes never left your face.

"we aren't.. we weren't-" you said, cheeks flushed in embarrassment at his suggestion. "uhuh.. whatever." he responded, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you, and you felt as though he saw right through you. for a man as strange as he was, he read people incredibly well. "figured you'd get along. glad i was right." he continued before you had the chance to dig yourself further into the hole in your mind you were forming.

"i'll leave you two alone," he laughed, glancing knowingly between you and cal, a smirk on his face. still, he stayed true to his word and climbed out of his chair, walking out of the front entrance with a skip in his step.

you watched as he left, only turning back to cal once the door closed behind him. your mouth felt dry, and you licked your lips. "you.. um, you have a new lightsaber?" you asked, glancing down at the weapon hanging from his hip. he nodded, "my.. my first one, i lost it during the purge." you didn't reply to his words verbally, but sat your hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"and who's this?" you asked, a smile on your features as you glanced at the BD unit. "oh," cal said, matching your expression even though it seemed as though he forgot the droid was there at all. "this is BD-1," he told you, and you directed your grin at him, "you've been taking care of cal while i've been gone?" you teased, but the droid replied in completely serious beeps, much to his dismay.

"how long have you been here?" cal asked you after a pause, and you glanced around at your surroundings. the cantina needed some work.. and a deep cleaning. you turned your attention back to him, but a sigh fell from your lips. "a couple of months now." his gaze was soft as he stared into your eyes, and he took your hands into his own, grounding himself into this moment. "i heard you were dead, y/n." he muttered. "i.. i know." you spoke, your heart aching at the thought of him mourning for you. "the force.. i couldn't.. i couldn't feel you." he told you, and you said nothing in response, averting your gaze to his hands in your own.

this.. this moment reminded you of your childhood, running around the gardens of the temple with your hands entwined, completely ignoring your assigned training to play for awhile. except now, cal's hands were rough, and so were yours.

"i cut myself off from the force." you explained to him, "i had to hide. i've been hiding.. up until today." you could hear his breathing through the silence of the empty cantina, and he didn't say anything else. instead, he dropped your hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"i love you." cal whispered into your neck, and you swore your breathing stopped. "what?" your arms fell to your sides, but he didn't pull away. "i love you." he repeated himself, pulling away to look into your eyes. his face was red, but the expression he wore was serious. "how could you.. how could you say that?" you asked, brows furrowed. his hands gripped your shoulders, and he let out a breathless chuckle.

"i've known it for years. when we were kids.. i had the biggest crush on you, and it bothered me. it bothered me how flustered i'd get around you even when you did.. absolutely nothing but smile." he explained, a growing smile forming across his face. "and irritated me. so i stayed away from you, thinking you were the one who bothered me all along." he said.

"but now the order doesn't exist anymore. the code is gone. but my.. my feelings for you- they never left." cal's voice fell to a whisper, "and seeing you now, it just makes me realize it all.. all over again." he took in a deep breath, but kept his eyes trained on your face. "so.."

"cal," you shut your eyes, shaking your head, "you actually felt that way that entire time when i thought you just started hating me for no reason?" you sighed, his lack of response telling you everything you needed to know.

you took a step closer to him, pressing your lips to his for a few seconds before pulling away. to cal, it wasn't nearly long enough. he leaned after your lips, eyes already completely closed as he'd relaxed into your touch. "i love you too. i always have." you told him, the feeling of his lips burned into your memory. they were chapped and dry.. but they fit against yours perfectly.

"really?"

"really."

he grinned, and kissed you again.

tags: @starwalkerwriting @war-in-time

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x reader headcanons #star wars x y/n #star wars x reader imagines #star wars x you #reader x cal kestis #cal kestis #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you

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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 year ago

Text

Finding out you have a womb tattoo - Tokyo Rev Headcannons

Mikey

Doesn't understand the appeal really

He thinks it's a pretty unique tattoo placement, but it's not something that turns him on

Still loves it because it's on you, and he loves you sooo :)

Asks if he'd look good with one too

Honestly I think he might get one if you convinced him enough, or if you offered to get matching ones?

Takemichi

*blush emoji x 10*

You have a tattoo WHERE?!

That's a little uh 😳

If you want to really fluster him, take his hand and make him touch it

Touching somewhere so intimate will have his whole face red in an instant

Mitsuya

He acts very chill about it

He's very sweet and helps you with healing and caring for it

When you're both alone though? He's going to tease you and try to rile you up

He'll lift up your shirt just to look at it, brush his fingertips against your skin, and tell you how much it suits you

Hanma

If you expect him to be chill in any way, you are sorely mistaken

He can't keep his hands off of you

If it's a new tattoo then he'll let you heal first, but once it's all healed up he's going to touch and tease you constantly

When you're cuddling with him he'll slide down until his face is hovering above your stomach and kiss your tattoo

And if he's feeling more submissive, he'll drop to his knees in front of you to plant a kiss there too 💛

Kokonoi

As much of a tease as Hanma is

He looooves looking at it. He's always asking you to lift your shirt up or take it off

He's definitely thought about getting a matching one many times 👀

I think he's the type to like stuff like that. Like tramp stamps and nipple piercings too ;)

Taiju

As if he didn't tease you enough already

Loves brushing his hands against it, just feeling you squirm and arch your back... that really does something for him

Also loves placing a hand over your tattoo and pulling you against his chest

Also also loves kissing you there and biting the skin around it, leaving little bruises down there

Yuzuha

She gets the appeal, but it's not really a turn-on for her

She does think it's neat though!

If you get a real cutesy design or one in pink ink, she'll coo about how cute it is

She sometimes asks to touch it, not because she finds it hot or anything...no definitely not... she's just uh, curious about how tattoos feel?

*coughs* Anyways you definitely didn't see her blush while she was feeling it... absolutely not

Hakkai

Hakkai.exe has stopped working

It's called a whAT tattoo?!

Bless this poor man, he's so easily flustered

If you're shirtless or have it on display for any reason, he's not going to be able to look you in the eyes...

If you take his hand and place it on your tattoo, he will combust

You tease him constantly with it

Your hand dips under the waistband of his boxers as you tell him how pretty he'd look with one of his own and he has to cover his face with his hands

He canNOT look at you right now 🫣

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yutofia · 3 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/yutofia/757914222960181248/his-venus-is-in-gemini-he-mustve-like-intelligent

I would like to point out everything I say is obvi just how I read his chart and is a actual reflection on him as none is us actually know him . Also this ain’t to make he out as a bad person/partner he is still a fun/nice guy to be around he just might have more problems then others possibly lol

Yes ! You’re correct which is why I would assume he would end up with a professional career such as a doctor/teacher/ or a student . I say student because his charts aligns with having more control over his partner and relationship and leads him to wanting to seeking out a younger partner for a long term relationship. But it’s contradicts what we’ve seen him go for in the past because he is very into have structure in every day life to which he sees having a more mature “ older “ woman as a plus but it won’t work out fully because he won’t be able to have control over a older partner so it will fizzle out or cause a underlying tension in the relationship . With his moon in Leo though he tends to not fully vocalize these emotions because he doesn’t want to come off as insecure so he bottles up all his jealously until he basically snaps . But his chart is kind of a red flag if he doesn’t have a partner who will help him with his emotions personally I think he would best with a Leo , Gemini or cancer . He loves deeply and has extreme loyalty when in love which causes him to harbor a possessive/controlling nature . And when I mean controlling everything coming together it’s like he will have your location and will be checking it if you’re not answering him fast enough . Wants to know who where and why like he really needs a partner who makes him feel secure so he can evolve into a better partner and version of himself . Which makes sense bc when he was April he constantly had her at his side . Which is what he is looking for in a long term partner . He wants them to be smart and successful but he needs them to rely on him in some capacity more then a normal relationship dynamic . Also his chart seems to point out he very much will enjoy begin the breadwinner and want to fully financially take care of his partner because he loves them but it also feeds into his sense of control . Basically him begin in love with you isn’t for the weak . You will have to stand up for yourself/boundaries without upsetting him if you want to keep him . Because obviously ladies you should not let a man control you and your life no matter who he is . Also him begin the one to end things and go back to the same old hookups just feeds his nature to control what happens. He’s basically controlling the on and offs of hookups .

DAMN ANON I FEEL LIKE MY FRONTAL LOBE JUST DEVELOPED BY READING THIS, THANK YOU

Everything you've mentioned makes soooo much sense. I always felt like he would be so clingy, and a control freak in a relationship. He deffo wants his girl to be by his side and would loooove to take care of her financially. Like to have her rely on him is like the best, most masculine thing for him

#asks #steph answers #ruben dias thoughts #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #rúben dias #ruben dias astrology

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mybiasisexo · 1 year ago

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Entangled - Part 8

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Language Word Count: 5k Author Notes: okay, I feel like this is lowkey a filler chapter 😭. but I like it so idk lmao. so much has happened since I last updated. I quit my old job, got a new one (that's kicking my ass. pray for me) had my bday and saw Beyonce 3 times!! but yeah as always sorry for the delay, hope you like the chapter and feel free to lmk what you thought!!! I loooove feedback and y'alls commentary!!! makes my damn day!! have fuuuuuun~!

You come to the following morning from what is possibly the best sleep you’ve gotten in years. A yawn escapes you as you stretch your tender body.

The action has you aware of something not moving around you, and you glance down to see a heavy arm thrown over your waist. As if the owner of the limb can sense your attention, it constricts, pulling you closer to a heat behind you.

Startled, you tense up, not even daring to breathe as you carefully roll onto your back and then turn your head the rest of the way until you’re knocking your nose gently against Chanyeol’s.

He’s in a deep slumber. Gentle snores leave his slightly parted lips, and his features are relaxed. He looks so peaceful, so serene, so…content. It melts your heart. You can’t help but stare at him, noticing the way his silky tawny hair falls across his pillow and the stubble poking out of his chin that grew in from the night before.

The night before….

Your eyes widen at the reminder and you’re sitting straight up, causing Chanyeol’s arm to fall limply on your lap.

Oh, you’ve really done it now.

Chanyeol stirs, and you think you’ve woken him, but he just rolls onto his other side, revealing his naked back to you.

Harsh rows of red raised skin catch your attention–the proof of how good a lover he is. Even though you know to some men, Chanyeol included, the scratches are a badge of honor, you only feel remorse from causing him pain.

His lack of clothing has you aware of your current state of undress and you quickly pull the thin sheet over your chest. It’s a silly action. Chanyeol’s sleeping, but even if he was awake, he’s seen your breasts plenty of times, had them in his goddamn mouth last night for christ’s sake.

Still, you must at least try to preserve some dignity.

You dare another glance at the man beside you, as if he’s a figment of your imagination that will vanish once you’re in your right mind. He doesn’t go away, so you must be really out of it.

Groaning, you drop your head, hitting your forehead repeatedly with the palm of your hand.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Fucking your ex fiance was the last thing you had planned to do on this trip. Getting closure? Sure. Making peace? The least you could have done. Now? Things have become even more complicated. Which is pretty impressive given everything that has transpired over the last couple days. And Yerim…. God, Yerim. She hasn’t even been gone twenty-four hours and you’ve already jumped her man’s bones. Sure, he was yours first, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Shit, maybe you are the problem.

As if you aren’t already about to dive in a pool of panic, a memory from the night before decides to reveal itself. The knowledge has you gasping, staring unseeingly ahead of you in terror.

Did you tell Chanyeol you loved him?

Oh, god. Oh, fuck.

Yeah, you gotta get out of here.

Feeling nauseous, you stumble out of the bed, crumbling to the ground the minute you put weight on your legs. Your bambi legs are a byproduct of Chanyeol’s pleasurable menstrations, having you literally weak in the knees. You shake your head and push through the slight throbbing of your core, standing carefully on shaky legs. Chanyeol chooses this moment to toss back around so that he’s facing you again. The arm that was around you earlier flops forward to reclaim its position, but lands on egyptian cotton instead. His eyebrows scrunch together as his hand idly runs over the empty space–searching for you. Feeling bad, you pull down a pillow. His fingers find it and yank it towards him, curling into it like a toddler with his favorite teddy bear. Your name leaves his mouth in a content breath, and all the turmoil in you dissipates for a moment. Maybe you’re overreacting? Yerim won’t be too mad, right? And Chanyeol still wants you, right? Last night meant something to him?

Did it mean something to you?

You can’t even think about that right now. Truth is you have no idea where you stand, and are even more confused than before the wedding. You’ve blurred the lines and anything can mean anything.

What you do know is that you need to leave, and you need to do it before Chanyeol wakes up. You can’t face him right now, not before you understand your emotions and actions.

“Focus,” you order yourself. You scan the floor that is now a mess of discarded garments, and a shimmer of gold catches your eye. You snatch it up, only to find it’s Chanyeol’s tie. You stare at it, remembering the way he demanded you to undress him, and drop it like it shocked you, shivering from the memory. That is definitely not what you’re looking for.

There. A little further you find your dress and underwear. You slide them on quickly, not bothering to zip up your dress. You’re only going a few doors down, so you only hold it against your chest.

Despite telling yourself to focus, you can’t stop thinking about your confession. Obviously it was the lust speaking, the nostalgia. Yeah, that’s all that was.

Chanyeol never said it back.

The epiphany straightens your back, and you startle as you lock eyes with yourself in the floor length mirror directly in front of you. The woman before you is tragic, her hair poofy and stiff, eyes rimmed black, face puffy and nose still red from crying. You look like the clown you are.

You shudder, truly haunted, and head out. You pause by the door to slip into your shoes and grab your purse. Your heels have a buckle, but you can’t risk wasting any more time, so you don’t bother securing them.

You open the door and a choir of angels begin to sing.

Their joyous voices die with a record scratch at the sight of Byun Baekhyun standing on the opposite end, fist up as though he’s about to knock.

You can’t catch a break.

He takes you in, visibly shocked. He says your name in a dramatic loaded question and you wince at his volume, bouncing off the walls. Damn, this is not good.

“What are you doing here?” He asks accusingly.

You quickly peek over your shoulder, checking to see if your new visitor is loud enough to wake Chanyeol. He doesn’t stir, and you can’t fight the pride that blooms in you. You wore that man out!

Shaking the emotion off, you turn back to Mr. Loud Mouth in front of you.

“Hush,” you hiss, shoving him back with the arm not currently holding both your dress, and what little you have left of your sanity, together. You make sure the door closes with a gentle ‘click’ before grabbing Baekhyun’s arm, dragging him the couple doors down to your suite. He yelps and asks where you’re ‘kidnapping’ him. It’s easy to ignore his helpless cries with the obnoxious sound of your heels slapping against your feet.

Once in front of your door, you dig through your purse for your key, forgetting you didn’t secure your dress. The top half flutters down, titties basking in the breeze.

You freeze, eyes closing tightly as you bite your bottom lip so hard you think you’re going to bite it off. Your only saving grace is that Baekhyun is behind you, obscuring his view of your private bits.

You hear him huff in annoyance before he’s brushing your hair out of the way, gathering your dress, zipping it up as far as it can go with your arms not in the sleeves.

“Thank you,” you whisper, face burning in shame. Dejectedly, you find the key and get you both in. You kick your clacky shoes off, not wanting to draw unwanted attention, and lead Baekhyun to your room. You rest your forehead against the door as you close it, giving yourself a moment to just breathe.

Once you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you’re good, you turn around and face your friend. He’s taken residence in your vanity chair, searching your frazzled figure with worry. You can only imagine what you must look like from his point of view.

Finally, he musters the courage to speak. “You look….”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay…. Would you care to explain why you were running out of Chanyeol’s room like you robbed him? In your wedding clothes, no less, first thing this morning?”

You rub your eyes. To be honest, no, you didn’t want to have this conversation. Especially with Baekhyun. No offense to the guy, you adore him, but he’s not really known for taking things seriously. Except… right now it does appear he’s taking this situation very seriously. Although there is a hint of playfulness in his tone, you can’t see any of it on his face, only genuine concern.

Defeated, you sigh and march to your bed, plopping down onto the edge to bury your face in your hands.

“We had sex.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he answers sarcastically. You glare at him through your fingers. He grins in reply, but it’s soft, reassuring, letting you know that everything will be okay.

It slips from his face as a thought occurs to him. “You weren’t drunk, were you?”

You shake your head and he lets out a relieved breath.

“Quite the opposite. It was probably the most sober decision I’ve made this whole trip.”

“So, what went wrong?”

“I just….” You recall your confession and wince, stomach flipping with embarrassment. “We ended up running into each other in the elevator and went to his room. We were only supposed to talk. But, I don’t know. You know the wedding was a lot for us both. And this trip has been very stressful and tense and we haven’t been alone since we got here and maybe that was for good reason because obviously we couldn’t handle that if–”

“You’re rambling,” he interrupts.

You take a deep breath.

“I told him I loved him,” you push out before you can regret admitting it. It sounds even worse spoken out loud.

“And?” He asks, skeptically.

You blink in surprise at his reply. “And he, well, he didn’t say it back.”

You avoid his gaze and bring your knees to your chest and nibble on your thumbnail anxiously, waiting for Baekhyun’s response to the new detail. You must have rendered him speechless, because he remains silent. Either that, or he’s trying to figure out the best way to let you down on Chanyeol’s behalf. That makes you stiffen your shoulders, bracing yourself for the cold dose of reality. It never comes, and his lack of response drags until you think you’re going to explode.

Finally, you whip your head up to him exasperatedly just to see him looking at you like you’re the dumbest bitch he’s ever seen.

“What?” You snap, hating how condescending his expression is.

He rolls his eyes at your tone and lets out a laugh coated in disbelief, rubbing his forehead. “I love you, but you’re stupid.”

“I know,” you sulk, pouting as you rest your chin on your knees. “I wasn’t thinking straight, obviously. I got too caught up in the moment. Being with him like that, it brought me back to the good ol’ days, when we were falling in love. But, we’re not in college anymore. We’re not the same people we were when we were together.”

You furrow your brows, really trying to untangle your thoughts. It’s a lot easier to do with someone to look at.

“That’s what it is. I mean, how can I still love a man I don’t know? I can still have lingering feelings for the man I used to know, though. Maybe having sex was a good thing? All that leftover tension between us can finally rest. Yeah, that’s what last night was–left over tension. Now that we’ve done the deed, we should be good now. Sure, we still need to have a talk, there’s still some things we need to address to fully move on, but I think the hardest part has passed.”

You search your friend’s face for the right answer. “Right?”

His lips thin and then he’s sighing. “Do you want to know what I think?”

You nod miserably, thoughts too chaotic to decipher any logic.

Baekhyun stands up and walks over to you, reaching out to rub your arms comfortingly. In a gentle murmur he says, “I think you need some breakfast.”

A surprised chuckle leaves you as you lean forward, resting your forehead against his stomach. “You’re probably right.”

You relax under his touch, and you both stay like that. His hands go from your shoulders to your back, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. The repetitive trail makes you drowsy.

The door swings open.

“I thought I heard you co–OH MY GOD!”

Seulgi stands dumbfounded at the door, the hand not frozen on your door knob covers her hanging jaw. Shock coloring her face as she takes in the compromising sight before her.

Baekhyun stumbles quickly away from you, tripping over his feet in his haste.

“It's not what it looks like!” You defend. That’s literally the worst line you can possibly say to her.

“What the hell!” She squeaks. “What the fuck is happening right now!?”

“We were just about to get something to eat!” Baekhyun says, as if that explains anything.

“HUH?!” Seulgi starts fanning her reddening face. She turns to you, not even going to humor him. “Look, I know this weekend has been rough for you. I understand you wanting to distract yourself by getting underneath someone. But, to sleep with Baekhyun of all people–”

“Hey!” The man in question barks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seulgi, please,” you beg. Crawling off the bed, you stumble over to her. “That’s not what happened at all!”

Your words go through one ear and out the other as she glares at Baekhyun, who’s shivering in his metaphorical boots under her judging stare. “I can’t believe you would do this! Chanyeol is your best friend! Do you not care how this will affect him when he finds out?”

“We didn’t do anything,” you plead.

“Then explain what I just walked into! Explain why you look a damn mess! And are those–are those hickeys?”

“I HAD SEX WITH CHANYEOL!” You yell in her face.

“I–wait, what?” You can see the internal conversation she’s having with herself as she tries to comprehend what you just confessed to her. When your words have meaning, a look of sheer horror contorts her lovely features.

“You didn’t.” Her voice is low, threateningly so.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, even more anxious than when Baekhyun was questioning you.

Your silence is an admission and she yells your name accusingly.

“I know!” You agree. “Please, I know!”

“I don’t understand. How? Why? I thought you were over him, or at least trying to be. I–”

“Hey,” Baekhyun cuts her off, joining your little party. He rests a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s let her take a shower and get into some clothes that don’t have cum stains on them. Then we can get breakfast. She can explain everything then.”

“There’s no cum on my dress,” you mumble with a frown.

“I know Chanyeol’s kinks,” Baekhyun says. You huff in defeat.

Seulgi’s cat shaped eyes bounce back and forth between you both skeptically. You can see all the questions she has running through her pretty head.

“Alright,” she reluctantly agrees. “Hurry and get ready. I’m starving.”

You have a feeling it’s not food she’s hungry for.

Baekhyun leads her out of your room, throwing you an apologetic look, and you wonder how many more times he’s going to look at you like that.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself in a little unassuming mom and pop restaurant. Baekhyun’s grandmother lives on the island, so he knows all the local hot spots. The ajumma serving you is absolutely thrilled to see him, promising to put a bit more love in your food, which you can definitely taste upon your first bite. It is exactly what you need after the active night you’ve had.

“Yerim made it home safely,” Seulgi informs, not glancing up from her plate as she does.

Your lips thin at the mention of her sister, knowing she’s bringing her up on purpose.

You didn’t need her reminder. Yerim has been on your mind all morning.

“Yeah?” You finally answer. “Glad to hear. I’m sure she’ll hate me for good once she finds out what I did right after she left.”

“She’ll get over it,” Baekhyun is quick to dismiss.

“She’ll forgive you,” Seulgi allows. “But she’ll never forget.”

Leaning back, she finally gives you a sharp look. “What happened last night anyway?”

Luckily, you just so happen to scoop some food into your mouth when she asks that, so you take advantage and slow down your chewing. Aiming to enjoy every last bit, because you know it’s going to be the last time you’ll be able to. You swallow it down with some water, for good measure, taking your time chugging it empty.

Seulgi watches in amusement, knowing what game you’re playing.

“Well,” you start, scratching behind your ear. “As you both already know, Chanyeol and I hooked up last night.”

“Hooked up?” Seulgi clarifies incredulously. It’s an interesting choice of words to describe what the two of you did.

Beside her, Baekhyun shakes his head, but keeps his opinions to himself, allowing you the floor.

“Yeah. And I want to say, for the record, that it was spontaneous. We just so happened to bump into each other when I was on my way back to the room. He asked me if I wanted to go to his room instead and I said yes–innocently! We were planning on just talking. And I mean, we did talk a bit?”

“Did you talk about Yerim?” Seulgi asks.

“No….” You avoid her stare and sink into your chair.

“Did you talk about your breakup?”

“No….”

Her eyes narrow. “So, what did you talk about?”

“About the wedding,” you answer like it’s obvious.

“And now it all makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You pout.

“The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other all weekend. I thought it was just the awkwardness of seeing an ex–in your case, an ex dating your friend. But I misread it. Now it’s pretty obvious that if it weren’t for Yerim, you would’ve probably slept with him sooner. It wasn’t awkwardness I felt, it was tension…the sexual kind.”

Your frown deepens. Were you seriously that weak? You thought you did a pretty damn good job resisting Chanyeol, but it only took three days to fall into his sheets. That wasn’t very strong of you at all. Seulgi is right. Yerim was the main reason for you keeping your distance, not your pride or your past. She had only been gone a few hours before you gave into him.

“Does that make me a terrible person?” You quietly ask.

“I don’t think so,” Baekhyun answers simply, shrugging when you lock eyes.

“It doesn’t,” Seulgi agrees, although she lets out a tired sigh right after. “But I still don’t understand why? It’s been years, girl, and you’ve never mentioned him once in that time. It’s been a while since you got laid, and even longer since it was with Chanyeol. Old habits die hard, and you didn’t get the closure you wanted, but sleeping with your ex seems so out of character for you.”

“He’s not just some ex, Seulgi,” Baekhyun intervenes. “He’s her ex fiance, and they didn’t break up on bad terms, necessarily. There’s still love there.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you interject, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

“So, it was just an old attraction? Old habits and all that?” Seulgi asks.

“I think so,” you say and she seems to melt in relief. “I think it was just left over sexual tension, and now that we’ve got it out of our system, we can be normal. We can move on.”

Baekhyun doesn’t seem convinced. “And you’re sure Chanyeol will agree with you?”

You shrug. “I don’t see why not. It was just sex.”

“It’s never ‘just sex’ with Chanyeol, and you know that. Especially when it comes to you.”

“You’d be surprised,” you mutter, mood dampening at the memory.

He doesn’t hear you. “And I know you’re lying. Didn’t you tell him you loved him last night?”

You glare at Baekhyun and he answers it with a smug smile, knowing he just set you up.

“You did what now?” Seulgi asks deadpan.

Internally you wince. “I might have told him I loved him while in the throes of passion.”

She says your name disapprovingly.

“And you know what? He didn’t say it back. So, you see? It was nothing more than physical for him as well.”

Seulgi looks as though she has some words for you, but Baekhyun beats her to the punch.

“You both drive me insane,” he groans. “It’s obvious you both still care about each other, what’s the point of trying to talk yourself out of it? It’s never too late to try again, and trust me when I say Chanyeol wants to more than anything. He’s already asked you for a second chance. He wants this! He wants you!”

“He said all that when he was drunk off his mind, Baekhyun.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true!”

You groan and lean your head back against your chair, feeling the pressure of the world falling onto your shoulders. It hits you then, the weight of Chanyeol’s affection, and for a moment you’re back on that sidewalk, drowning in it. You remember why you left, remember the moment your love for him twisted into something dark. Chanyeol said you told him you hate him. Truth is, you had. With him back in your life, you forgot about that, forgot that there was another reason why you were trying to avoid him. Again, everything is even more confusing, and you find yourself at a total loss of what to do next.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed by that,” Seulgi reassures. She knows you way more than you give her credit far. “Everything is happening so fast. You don’t have to make a decision right now, and honestly, I don’t think it’s wise for you to.”

You lift your head back up and take in your concerned friends. With the way they’re both sitting on either side of each other before you, it’s almost like they’re the angel and devil on your shoulders. One speaks for your heart, while the other speaks for your mind. Holding onto each of your hands and yanking you back and forth like a rope in tug-o-war.

“I don’t know the right answer,” you whisper, feeling your eyes water in frustration.

“Whatever’s going to make you happy,” Baekhyun answers simply.

You cough a laugh and a tear escapes, but you’re quick to wipe it away.

“I think,” Seulgi begins, reaching over and grabbing your hand. “You should give each other space, and wait until you’re back in Seoul. It’s only a couple days, and it’ll give both of you time to figure out what exactly it is you want from each other. Do you have an idea of what that is? Is it a relationship? Closure? Or just physical connection?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit.

She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. You understand. She’s right.

“That’s probably the best idea,” you relent.

Baekhyun grunts in disgust. “Doesn’t Chanyeol deserve a say in this?”

“Of course he does,” you say.

“But that’s a conversation for later,” Seulgi intrudes. “Preferably with others around.”

You lift your hands up in defeat.

Now that your problem has been solved for now, you all go back to eating in a comfortable silence. Everything still tastes amazing, thank fuck.

Suddenly, Baekhyun straightens and turns to Seulgi. “What did you mean earlier anyways? When you said me of all people?”

She scoffs. “Besides the fact that you’re a weirdo? You’re Chanyeol’s best friend. If you had slept together, it would be the deepest betrayal to him. But, if she had slept with any of you, my reaction would be the same. The only other person I could possibly see her with is Sehun, and even then….”

“Ew,” you both finish.

“I love all of you,” you say. “But not like that.”

“It’s the same for me too!” Baekhyun admits. “I would never do that to Chanyeol, because I would never do that, period. Don’t ever put that disgusting idea in anyone’s head again!”

“No problem!” Seulgi says, resolute.

You finish breakfast soon after that and leave for the hotel. Today is the first day of your little reunion tour. Sehun figured that everyone would be too hungover to do anything that required movement, so you’re all just going to hang out at the beach and watch the sunset. Sounds like the perfect Sunday to you.

You all left your phones in the car, so the first thing you do once buckled up is check your notifications, reading the texts in the groupchat confirming some of the others were heading out to the beach and the location they chose. Baekhyun winces as he scans his device, catching your attention. When you lock eyes, he gives you that pitiful smile, almost like a warning, before turning his screen for you to read. It’s filled with texts and missed calls from Chanyeol.

“Oh boy,” is all you can muster, trying not to linger too much on the only message you can read: ‘please. I’m begging’.

“What’s up?” Seulgi asks from the backseat. Baekhyun proceeds to show her his phone and she shakes her head in dismay.

“Should I call him?” He asks.

“No,” you’re quick to reply. Avoiding his gaze, you settle into your seat, staring blindly out the windshield. You feel him watching you for a moment before sighing and starting the car, pulling out to drive you back to the hotel.

The elevator ride is long. You wonder if Chanyeol will be in the hallway when it opens. Baekhyun leans against the wall, rapidly firing off texts the whole way up. It takes everything in you not to ask him what he’s telling Chanyeol to calm him down.

The doors open, and you’re both relieved and crushed to enter an empty hall. Baekhyun walks you both to your room, which is polite, but you all know is a front. His room isn’t on this floor, and you don’t need him to walk you back.

“Where are you going?” You can’t help but to ask.

He grins guiltily and nudges his head towards Chanyeol’s room. “I’m going to check on him. That’s why I came up here in the first place.”

“Right….”

He pats your shoulder. “Get ready and head down to the beach. I’m sure you got Jongdae’s text in the groupchat. Both him and Jongin are already setting up camp.”

“Don’t take too long,” Seulgi says in farewell before pulling you into the suite.

As soon as the door closes, she’s holding you by the shoulders, staring deep into your eyes. “You can’t go back on your word now.”

“I’m not,” you say, cringing as the way it sounds like a lie.

Her grip on you tightens. “It’s all going to work out. Don’t get all sulky.”

“I’m not.”

She smiles. “You’re such a terrible liar. It’s kind of cute.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you sigh, grabbing her hands to hold them instead. “I’m going to take your advice. We need space.”

“Space,” she repeats approvingly, rubbing your knuckles with her thumbs.

Banging on your door causes you both to jump.

“Yeol, stop it! I already told you they’re not there!”

“I need to know for sure.”

You swallow thickly at the sound of Chanyeol’s voice.

You hear Baekhyun sigh and then Chanyeol call your name, which jerks you closer to the door. Seulgi grips your hands harder, holding you back. You lock eyes. She shakes her head in warning.

“Are you in there?” He pauses briefly, waiting for you to reply. You hold your breath, afraid in the silence he can hear your heart’s rapid beating. “Please, open the door, Mel. I just… I just need to see you.”

His voice is calm, but alarmed, as if he’s trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. He knocks again, the reps urgent, giving away the worry he’s trying to disguise.

“I just need you to tell me everything’s okay.” Now his voice cracks.

Fuck it. You can’t avoid him forever. You go to open the door, but Seulgi’s hold is surprisingly strong and you can’t break it.

“Space, remember?” She whispers.

You didn’t know that started now.

Reluctantly, you relax, leaning your head on Seulgi’s shoulder. She wraps her arms around you, rubbing your back as you wait for Baekhyun to do his job in getting Chanyeol away.

“I can’t do this again, man,” Chanyeol’s broken voice comes through the door. “I can’t lose her again. Not like this.”

“I know, Dude.” Baekhyun sounds just as helpless, and a wave of guilt washes over you from putting him in this position. “But, she’s not in there. Let’s go to my room so I can change. It won’t take long, so don’t even think of ditching me!”

A silence drags on for so long you’re sure they’ve left.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun urges.

“I–okay. Let’s go.”

You hear them retreat and let out a breath.

Seulgi whistles. “Quite the mess you’ve made.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “You can say that again.”

“Hey,” She rubs your arm. “He’s going to be fine. Let’s change. I’m sure you’re now very eager to get down there.”

You let her lead you to your room. The whole time you can’t get over the pain in Chanyeol’s voice, a pain that you caused.

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beanghostprincess · 8 months ago

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i need to know what you think about uta being ace's and sabo's sister too... like imagine a perfect world where uta existed without the mess of film red (i did enjoy it but also uhhhhhhhh there are a lot of weird things abt it bc i dont think shanks would actually take in uta like that considering he did experience piracy as a kid. so why would he put uta through that even if she'd stay put on the ship–) ANYWAY. so lets say shanks found uta after obtaining the devil fruit and takes her to the nearest island (dawn island.) then found makino and luffy and convinces her to stay w them or whatever.

i imagine that ace and uta do bicker w each other a lot. however sabo is very kind and excited to have a sister!! he's protective of her and enjoys her songs. (which brings out a surprising singing side from sabo ehe...)

i also imagine that uta is as rowdy and gluttonous as her brothers tbh. i mean, she's the only girl there so she's more than likely to be influenced by them. ALSO imagine uta being raised by dadan wheewwwww.... i think if she was raised alongside asl bros, she'd end up way different than she did in film red and well- actually become a pirate– (maybe rivaling with her brothers? that or she acts as luffy's biggest rival to be pirate king as her way of supporting his dream) (idk im just thinking as i type)

so everythings the same but uta is there with three insane brothers (shes as insane too... she is their equal). though it's lowkey clear dadan has a favorite (she loves a tough daughter) and god everything w garp would be so insane too like. before sabo was accepted and started living with the bandits, garp was happy to have a granddaughter (till she said she wanted to become a pirate too 😭) BUT he makes sure ace and luffy treats their sister right and is again being a favorite– however, she wouldn't suck up to him like that. like how the brothers would shield each other from garp, she would also shield them from garp !!

"leave my little brothers alone, old geezer!"

and yes, even if uta is a year younger than ace and sabo, she still would call herself a big sister (especially for knowing luffy longer than the other two. shes just used to being the older one)

anyway... lets say asul au is a tjing, now consider ASUL + S as we love talking about asl+s. with uta around, sanji likely thinks that all sisters are good because shes nice to him too. and how she clearly loves her brothers too. but ofc, uta surrounded by brothers while claiming to be the big sister, makes sanji incredibly jealous about their sibling relationship. it reminds him of reiju and his brothers, how they never really got along. while asul got along really well. they fight a lot but it's never with the intention to hurt each other or make the other feel worthless.

and who am i if i dont bring up sabosan at some point LOL. (also mb that this ask is so long i just love uta sm and i love aus sooo bad <<3) uta is definitely one of the first to notice her brothers' fondness of sanji. she is fond as him as well but not the same way as them lol. she tells sanji some secrets about sabo and sanji just cannot tell if shes actually serious or not because of how mischievous her smile is. and uta absolutely teases sabo about sanji, especially when hes not around like– that little song that little kids sing when it comes to someone havinf a crush.

"sabo and sanji sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g !"

and luffy definitely chimes in while sabo is beet red and begging them to shut up fkldjfldj. makino and uta Looooves gossiping about sabo and sanji. makino does ask to tone down her teasing, which she does, but she can't help but push each other's buttons.

idk theres just a lot to think about if uta was raised with asl brothers and uta growing up to be a pirate :^)

THIS IS SO CUTE !!!! Honestly, Film Red never sat right with me but not exactly because of Shanks' decision of keeping Uta. I see that pretty much in character for the guy-- What I don't like is the way they rushed the ending and the way it all ended, in general. It's just obvious they wanted to do Uta's story but in a way that didn't affect the canon and it's just- Stupid. Idk.

But let's say Shanks meets Uta and spend some years together and she does consider him her father (as I see it, because in this sibling group all of them have to have daddy issues. Except Luffy. Because more than daddy issues he just. Doesn't care-) but he leaves her with Luffy because he says it will be good for her. I think she wouldn't agree with his decision and something like in the movie would happen. Where he just... Leaves. And Uta ends up hating him or at least resenting him a bit. And it's obvious he did for her and he had good intentions but she's just a kid, so she genuinely takes it personal. So, yeah, the girl stays as Luffy's older sister, basically. At least this is how I see it.

Then Sabo and Ace appear and- It's chaotic.

Imo, she's still a diva and she still loves music because it's in her blood and also, she spent some time with Shanks so she already has a bit of her personality made. But being with them makes her learn more about protecting herself and being a bit ruthless, although I think she's more of the type to ler her brothers do the dirty work and only follow them in their shenanigans if they go "You only say that because you can't do it!!" (<- Ace, definitely) and she has to prove she can be as strong as them. So she's a diva but she's a bit more impulsive and reacts in a more violent way. Especially with food too.

I think she wouldn't get along much with Ace at first because he's a mess and she's also a mess and they're really similar when it comes to being Luffy's older siblings so they wouldn't agree on most stuff. But daddy issues are a good way of bonding and I'm pretty damn sure that if Ace ever said "Should I have been born?" in front of her, she would go insane trying to make him see that everybody deserves to live.

With Sabo, though, I think they'd get along pretty well. Sabo is still chaotic but a bit calmer than Ace and he has a strong ideology that Uta would definitely share. He wants to make a statement for freedom and Uta agrees and tbh, he's a writer and she's a singer and there's no better friendship than that one.

Her relationship with Luffy is pretty much the same, except that she now acts way more as a sister and not only as a past friend. Of course. She joins them drinking too!!

Ngl, you can hate me for this but I think the events of Red could easily happen... Again... I mean... Not exactly those events but-- Uta's dream would obviously be to reach everyone with her music. To make them feel seen and loved and making them see they should live. Because after spending so much time with her brothers, she wants to sing songs for the rest of the people that feel the same way they do. She always has them in mind when she sings and she always, always, tries to make them have fun and enjoy life. I think Uta's perception of living and freedom would clash a lot with Ace's and she'd try to make him want to live through music. Same with with freedom and Sabo/Luffy.

But then Sabo dies. And Ace dies. But Sabo comes back and-- I am sorry, and I know it partially was the mushroom's fault, but she's kind of unstable mentally (who isn't in this show tbh) and it wouldn't surprise me that her blatant optimistic views would make her want to do exactly what happens in Red again. But I think this time it should be Sabo and Luffy the ones saving her and, you know, idk, maybe Shanks is there too but this isn't about him today. Whatever. She doesn't hurt anyone and it has a good ending, but it's not the point of the post--

So Sanji is there with them! Following what we've already been saying about Sanji staying with the ASL bros but now adding Uta!!

Uta would absolutely. Adore. Sanji. He's the perfect little sibling. He's cute and knows how to cook and he's literally everything that's right in this world. She complains about Luffy crying but when Sanji does so she only says it's cute and that he deserves to cry-- Uta likes cute stuff canonically and Sanji is the cutest thing, so it makes sense. Also, Sanji just assumes every woman in the world is perfect from that very second because between his mom, Reiju and now Uta he has only had good experiences with girls. He does feel kind of left out at first remembering everything that happened with the Vinsmokes, but Uta always tries to include him in every little thing!

She really likes teasing him and Sabo, though. Uta might adore Sanji but that doesn't mean she isn't a little bit mean to him. It's obvious that they like like each other because, you know, they're kids. Look at them. It's obvious. Uta knows, Luffy knows, Ace knows... Sabo and Sanji spend so much time alone and Sabo always tries to be next to him and he looks at Sanji with like, literal heart eyes.

Uta: Do you like Sanji? Sabo: Sanji? No. No. No. Sanji's just a friend... Uta: Why are your eyes shaped like hearts? Sabo: Allergies...

Uta is an artist. A singer. She's 100% a hopeless romantic. I will die on this hill. So while Ace is extremely "ughhhh" *disgusted noises* by Sanji and Sabo's flirting and Luffy couldn't care less (he just likes teasing them because it's fun to see them panicking), Uta tries HARD to get them together. They're listening to her songs? She will sing a romantic one. They're alone? She will gently push one of them closer to the other. They eat spaghetti once and she goes all the way to try to do the thing where they eat the same one so they kiss. Etc etc etc. She won't stop being a little brat about it too, teasing both of them. And it's driving Sabo crazy. Makino asks Uta about the kids because she knows the girl is as invested as her in the relationship. Funniest thing in the world.

Now I can't stop thinking about them spearating when Sabo dies, following what we said etc etc etc And Uta becomes a famous singer. She doesn't kill anybody, okay? Let's leave it on her just- Doing a huge concert. Sanji and Sabo have already reunited but please, imagine these two not dating just yet. They're in love and pining but not dating. Everyone hates it. And then Sabo joins them for the concert, ofc, and when Uta sees them again (and sees Sabo is alive?? Because what the fuck why didn't they tell her???) one of the first thing she says is "Okay, okay... So you two are... You know?" and they don't understand what she's saying but literally all the crew is like "They're still pining. Please. It's awful". Girl makes it everyone's problem so she does this kiss cam thing to get them together finally. Like I said, good ending.

#sorry for replying so late i have like. a ton of asks and not enough time wekjjbjkrbf #but this is literally amazing i adore this #uta my absolute beloved she's the best #one piece #asl brothers #uta one piece #black leg sanji #revolutionary sabo #portgas d. ace #monkey d. luffy #sabosan

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cantdothis-nomore · 1 year ago

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Hey hey! I'm new in this neck of the woods (new to the blog AND just binged all of Demon Slayer that was on Netflix). You said you were looking for ideas sooo... Okay, how about Tanjiro falling for a girl who is a very strong Kitsune-demon (white hair, ears, and a fluffy tail)? Looks to be about his age, but is 300+ (though she still has the mind of a more mature teenager since the brain's development was frozen at her physical age and that doesn't normally finish developing until 25). Her situation is similar to Tamayo and was even altered by her so she can live without having to kill humans. She joined up with Tanjiro's group because she wanted to atone for having killed in the past by saving humans and has already been doing so on her own for the last few centuries (even raised a couple dozen human orphans over that time), but figured this was a more effective way to go about it, especially since it meant having a better shot at being able to take down Muzan once and for all. She is a very kind and nurturing type and accidentally became a big sister type figure for Nezuko before he even started to have feelings for her.

How would he handle the fact that he was a Demon Slayer falling in love with a reformed demon? How would he react to hers and Nezuko's sisterly relationship? If he decided to act on his feelings, what would he do if she confessed that she felt the same, but she doesn't feel like she deserves happiness like that because of what she had done over 200 years ago before Tamayo found her and helped her? What if she said she intended to have a Demon Slayer execute her after she felt she had atoned for her past because she would still deserve to be punished (girl's got a guilt problem)? How fascinated by those fluffy ears and tail would he be? Especially if ear scritches ended up being, like, her favorite thing, AND they were an immediate tell on how she was feeling even when she tried to deny whatever emotions she was feeling (droopy ears when sad, wagging tail when happy, ect). Lord knows I would be! What if Obanai and Sanemi are mean to/hurt her like Sanemi did with Nezuko? Anything else you want to add would be much appreciated; anything you want to remove is understood! Thanks in advance, and take all the time you need if you decide to do this! No rush at all! It's cool if you decide not to, of course! No hard feelings no matter what!

OMGGG I LOVE THIS AND I LOOOOVE YOU <333333 THIS! THIS IS THE AMOUNT OF DETAIL I LOVE! GURL I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOUUUU!!!!

Also! Welcome to the blog babes you came at the right time as I'm about to start posting every day so I hope you'll enjoy those fics! In the meanwhile take a look at some others I have already up :)

Also I know that alot of this isn't cannon especially the last bit but like let's just pretend because I really like it 😭🤣

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Tanjiro Kamado x Kitsune!Reader

Content : Tanjiro Kamado x Kitsune!Guilt ridden! 200+ year old! Reader

Tanjiro falling in love with a kitsune demon reader who eventually becomes a sister figure to Nezuko and joins Tanjiros group to atone for the killings she did in the past

Proofread? : Yes.

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Dragging your feet you forced yourself to catch up to the group, Tanjiro turning around to wait for you as Zentisu and Inosuke waited a little longer away for the both of you Inosuke screaming at you two to hurry up.

Tanjiro grabbed your hand and ran to the pair in front as to get to shelter quickly and not to irritat Inosuke further. Soon enough you were all walking at the same pace listening to Inosuke twirl an elaborate tale about his time in the mountains, suddenly you felt cold air on the palm of your right hand. You swivelled your head and realised that Tanjiro, now bright red had released the grip on your hand.

You both looked away sharpish as your faces turned red, even redder in Tanjiros case, determined not to show your embarrassment though the aggressive swishing of your tail and the twitch of your ears gave you away with not doubt.

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Soon enough the group reached shelter for the night and settled down. Tanjiro set the box containing Nezuko down and opened it so she could walk around a little. Nezuko jumped out quickly and looked around her hair whipping her face as she looked around wildly. Finally meeting your eyes, she let out a hum of happiness and dive bombed into your lap.

'NEZUKO!' Tanjiro Screeched, horrified. 'THATS BAD MANNERS VERY VERY BAD MANNERS NEZUKO YOU CANT JUST DO THST TO SOMEO-'

"It's quite alright Tanjiro' you said, your voice quiet as not to disturb Nezuko who was nestled against you.

He muttered for a little while longer about bad manners to Nezuko before falling asleep on his futon. After what seemed like an hour you picked Nezuko up and layed her onto your futon so she could re-energise. Sliding down the wall behind you, you watched Tanjiro as he slept tears gathering to your eyes as thoughts filled your head. Your tail wrapped around you as an almost fluffy peice of comfort, but almost a reminder of what you were, and your ears flattened against your head sadly.

'How could someone ever love someone like me,' you whispered looking over him, tears blurring your vision, 'someone so perfect could never love someone so broken.'

Thoughts continued to invade your head, taunting you, reminding you of what you did all those years ago before you met Lady Tamayo, before she helped you become someone better. You thought back on all the children you raised, how Nezuko reminded you of some of them, and then how they were all dead and no matter what you will be alive to experience that pain forever.

You sighed deeply, wiping off fresh tears and stray strands of white hair away from your face. Before heaving yourself up and going outside.

You sat on the porch looking up at the moon for what seemed hours before you heard the door slide open and footsteps behind you that came to rest beside you.

'Hey' came a whisper

'Hey' you greeted back voice void of all emotion.

'You feeling OK? You don't look well." Tanjiro said as he finally came into view crouching infront of you, swiping your hair back to press his palm to your forehead, 'you do feel a bit warm' He said looking at you in the way that always made you melt.

You grabbed his hands as he began to fuss over you causing him to look up confused, 'I'm OK I swear' you said not being able to hold eye contact with him for more than a couple seconds before turning away so he wouldn't see the heat rising to your face.

Tanjiro set his lips into a tight line and plopped down next to you, knowing you were withholding something from him. You both sat in silence for a little while before you let your head drop down onto his shoulder. At this point you were too tired to care and so was he.

Out of reflex Tanjiro reached up and started gently scratching your ears. Your eyes shot open as your ears dropped down onto your head, an immediate tell on how you were feeling and like Tanjiro said, you weren't well. A bright red blush coated your cheeks but you squeezed your eyes shut and let it happen as this wasn't a normal thing, and definitely not something you were going to say no to.

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You were jolted awake the next day by the squawking of a crow just above you. You jumped up looking around at your surroundings and an apparently very confused Tanjiro.

"Hashibira Inosuke, Agatsuma Zenitsu, Kamado Tanjiro and the demons L/N Y/N and Kamado Nezuko are to report to the Masters estate immediately!" It Screeched, "the hashira are waiting"

You and Tanjiro looked at each other, fear clouding your brains.

'I guess we better set off' You whispered, terrified of what is next to come.

'I suppose we should' whispered Tanjiro, equally as fearful.

No more then a half hour later you and Tanjiro bad successfully hustled everyone out the house and has started walking much to Zenitsu's complaint. After what seemed like years of Zenitsu whining you walked over to him and threw him onto your back as you walked. He flopped down and went quiet as everyone continued on the way.

As Tanjiro watched you care for Zenitsu despite being tired and unwell he realised how much harder it was becoming to suppress the feelings he had buried deep deep down in fear of them distracting him from his mission of turning Nezuko back into a human and also because he was scared you would reject him. He continued to watch you for a while as you swapped between carrying Inosuke and Zenitsu, adoration clear in his eyes, something he was glad you couldn't see.

After two hours of walking you finally reached the Masters Estate where you were rushed in by Kakushi and separated. Tanjiro was knocked out and bound, you and Nezuko dragged away and also knocked out and you bound just after Zenitsu and Inosuke were taken to the butterfly estate to check for injuries.

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You were awoken by being thrown on the ground, your tail cushioning your fall. You looked up and saw many people dressed in the same uniform as Tanjiro. As yelling from behind you reached your ears you turned around to see Tanjiro still bound like you on the ground and a man with a shock of white hair and an open chested uniform holding the box that contained Nezuko and a sword held right infront if it!

Anger clouded your senses as you realised his intentions were malicious and used your strength to break you out your bounds and leap in the air as your ears pricked up sharply as to detect any movement. You dove towards the white haired crazy man yanking away Nezukos box and kicking him hard to the other side of the estate with your power along with another crazy person who had snakes wrapped around him and also came at you with a sword. He nearly scraped you but you booted him backwards just in time. You ran past a strange man with purple on the top of his face and crouched down in the safety of the shade. You fished Nezuko out and cradled her in your arms, reaching out and grabbing Tanjiro too, breaking his bonds before shoving your foot out and kicking the crazy man once again.

You sheltered them whilst glaring at any of the people who dared look your way apart from a lady with pink and green hair who piqued your interest. You held your hand out to her and she looked at the master who in turn nodded for her to go after being told what was going on. She sat infront of you with her hand outstretched and you lent your head forward and pressed it into her waiting palm, ears twitching. She squealed and rubbed your head, you knew for certain then she was your favourite. She eventually got called back to her post and you learnt her name was 'Mitsuri'.

The moment she was gone you turned back to defending Tanjiro and Nezuko, because no matter what you were not going to let them get harmed. Not whilst you were there to protect them at all costs.

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Should i continue it and get them to confess feelings? 🤭

#anime and manga #x reader #demon slayer #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado #kimetsu tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou #tanjiro fluff #demon slayer fluff #x reader fluff

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