#the final presentation of the day was someone trying to tell the rest of us the benefits of eating ass. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wannaeatramyeon · 3 months ago

Text

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 2

Please read Part 1 first! G/N. 4.6k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

As far as first impressions go, yours went terribly. Gun can count on no hands the amount of people that have spoken to him like you did and lived to tell the tale.

Make no mistake, the sum total of which is zero. Zero spoke to him like that and lived to tell the tale.

It's like you have no manners and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

But, he figures, he's finally doing his GED after the whole murderous stint and juvie and light dabbling in gang wars. Maiming a fellow classmate on the first day would leave an even worse first impression with the rest of the class than yours with him, therefore he should really try to behave himself.

Besides, he would never hear the end of it from Goo if he dropped out, or worse got kicked out, so he picked his battles and took your insults as best he could.

Somehow miraculously managed to hold back from reaching across the screen to give you a well deserved ass whooping when you asked him if he was on the verge of a mid-life crisis. He schooled his face and took a drag of his cigarette instead.

At least, if nothing else, you're entertaining.

You also reminded him that small talk was a thing when you asked what he liked to do for fun. He couldn't remember the last time anyone asked, if anyone even did, although you don't really make this sort of conversation in his line of work and it is hard for Gun to find time to make chit chat with someone as he's usually the one brutally assaulting them in a fight.

And he had such good intentions with enrolling in school again so why not tell you he likes gaming.

That's a perfectly Normal hobby, right?

Even as he says those words, they stick in his throat like he's confessing something shameful and it comes out strangled and strange.

He moves on to more familiar territory by reframing his bloodlust as training and martial arts, which also sounds very Normal to Gun's ears.

A few more things that he can barely remember are mentioned to present himself as a very Normal individual and he isn't embarrassed to admit to himself he's pleased with how this has gone.

After all, the majority of his working day is spent with Goo and Goo is, to put it politely, an unhinged dipshit, and their conversations usually also have that kind of vibe. Gun is aware enough to watch his tongue in this conversation with you, and the fact you haven't looked terrified or called the police can only work in his favour.

What piqued his curiosity most of all though, is your threat to kick his ass.

(On Tekken, but still.)

So much confidence in your own ability, so much faith in your skills.

(On Tekken, but still.)

Alas, that night he finds out it's misplaced and you have severely overestimated himself and/or underestimated him.

But still.

He remains curious about you.

You show absolutely no fear, no ulterior motive, no nothing, in the way you speak to him and seem to have latched on to him rather than anyone else in the class, and Gun is...

Charmed.

He finds you oddly endearing.

Then when he sees the back of your head as he makes his way into the classroom for the first time and decides to sit next to you, the way you blatantly check him out doesn't hurt either.

People ogling Gun isn't anything new, but what is new is how much he likes it from you.

He makes up his mind to keep his seat next to you. Even if your gaze does linger a moment too long on his hair and makes him wonder if he used enough gel on it when he styled it that morning.

And although you caught him doodling and insult his masterpieces repeatedly - you also balanced it out by helping him with Literature, which truth be told, he is extremely grateful for. He forgives your missteps and your teasing.

Over time, Gun finds that he likes your company. Traits that would be annoying as shit with other people he finds sweet with you, including your unrefined taste in coffee.

As a bonus, you also don't balk at the tidbits of his life he shares. In fact it should really be a little troubling how grey your morals are, how easily you take it in stride for someone that seems like a normal well-adjusted(ish) civilian.

All in all, this never happens. Ever.

Never has anyone held his attention like you do, and for him to test the waters like he has done.

Gun likes to think he has good judgement, takes very calculated risks. This, he decides, is worth pursuing. Exploring.

With not so much a leap of faith but maybe just a tiny hop, Gun opens up his home to you.

You think you're in love with Gun Park.

This realisation hits you at 5am, when you're lying in his bed and he has done the gentlemanly thing of taking the sofa. It hits you because only a few hours ago, he had pulled you into his lap, looked at you and held you so tenderly then didn't kiss you.

The fact that he hadn't kissed you, and you're in love with a very questionable person sends you into a mental crisis.

Fuck.

He's secretive enough, letting you in on various elements of his life and you manage to piece together that he can only be up to no good.

There's no shades of grey in his life, only copious amounts of crimson from bloodshed, and a twisted sense of morals and principles he lives by.

You know by now he hangs around far too much with someone called Goo, who sounds like the personification of a headache and annoys him to no end but also seems to be the only friend he has. Speaks too highly of a Charles that you know is shady despite never having met the guy. There's also an Eli that he mentions like he's the one that got away.

You can live with all of that and the questionable amount of hair product he uses.

What you are in fact struggling to get to grips with is:

This man lives in a junkyard. Like some kind of violent, sexy raccoon.

A voice in your head that sounds scarily like your mother, lectures you about prospects and picking a man with no future.

Well, for one - he's back in school.

See mom, you're wrong.

He also seems to do very well for himself despite literally living amongst trash (you handwave away his blood money and unscrupulous methods to earn said money) so that's another point for Gun.

And what sort of person, who lives between piles of scrap metal and discarded appliances, has such a luxurious bed.

You're sure the bedding thread count is in the thousands. Instead of researching the cure to cancer or how to travel faster than light, scientists have researched the comfiest mattress known to man and has created this that you're currently lying on.

So maybe this violent sexy raccoon is actually a prize.

Regardless.

You seem to have hitched yourself quite willingly to this wagon and now your biggest issue, that leaves you tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, is still-

Why the fuck didn't he kiss you.

And how could he, after sharing such a sweet moment, push you off his lap and kick your ass on Tekken for 5 straight rounds.

What a bastard.

At some point you must have drifted off to sleep and you awake to the smell of deliciousness.

Something is being fried and you melt thinking your raccoon king is cooking breakfast for you. Who knew he was this sweet and thoughtful.

What is even better though, somewhat masked by the sizzling, is if you listen hard enough, you think Gun might even be humming. Even the perfect bed can't keep you from pressing your ear up against the bedroom door when you connect the dots that he is humming a popular K-Pop song that you have listened to on loop 50 times the week prior.

You yank open the door with force, "A-ha!" and point in his direction, gleeful at catching him doing something so un-Gun like.

Gun, in the middle of plating 2 omelettes, whips his head to you and stills, looking like a deer caught in headlights or a raccoon caught in headlights, rather.

You ask him, with a shit eating grin, if he's a big fan of the K-Pop group but it drops at his lack of reaction when he just shrugs and responds simply with a yes.

Damnit.

Of course you know it's not really anything to be ashamed of but it's so unexpected from Gun, that would it kill him to blush a little or act a little abashed? You expected something at least a little entertaining from his initial surprise, but you suppose anyone would act like that if a deranged house guest accosted them first thing in the morning after they so kindly made breakfast too.

As a consolation, after the let-down, you double take when you realise Gun had been cooking topless and remains topless this entire time.

In all his muscled glory. Pecs and abs and everything. Delicious broad shoulders and an enticing light trail of hair from below his belly button and stretching down, down, down into his sweatpants.

You gulp, trying to calm yourself down. You know you are staring so so obviously but you can't find it in yourself to look away.

Gun clears his throat as if to say my eyes are up here, and hands you a plate.

While you still have self control and before you outstay your welcome, you say bye to Gun after breakfast mentioning you have some errands to run.

It's a poor excuse but you didn't taste a bite of that omelette, brain too fixated on the man seated opposite and wondering if what he's hiding in his trousers matches the energy he gives off.

He offers to take you home and you insist on walking by yourself. You reason to yourself the fresh air after such a heady night and all the over excitement from this morning would do you good.

You say your goodbyes at his door, him leaning against the doorway, still unbearably tantalisingly shirtless and enough to distract you from the junkyard setting, with his arms folded and a smirk on his face as you stand there-

Standing and waiting and expecting.

You're pretty sure Gun wants to kiss you. There's a challenge in his eyes and you know he is teasing you.

The fact that you stared at him before like a slack-jawed moron also indicates full well what you would like him to do.

A goodbye kiss isn't too much to ask for (not that you're going to ask) but he continues to also lean and wait and smirk shirtlessly and god, this is the most awful hair-pulling frustrating game of chicken you have played.

For a moment you consider yanking him down and kissing him, hard and desperate, and making your way back inside to the most comfortable bed that has ever existed. For an even briefer moment you consider biting his pec and leaving a ring of teeth marks.

In the end, you can only muster "bye then," and to your dismay, your voice comes out whiny.

There's no hiding your disappointment.

Gun’s smirk grows wider at your tone and he relents and gives a peace offering in the form of a kiss on your cheek.

He pulls you into his body, arm wrapped around your waist and he dips down, grazes his lips featherlight to your cheek.

It's chaste. Impossibly tender and surprisingly sweet.

Damn.

You forget how to breathe and you feel like you're on fire as he murmurs bye into your ear. Later, you'll chastise yourself for letting Gun affect you like this with something so innocent.

You untangle from him and feel your legs wobble when you step off the porch and make your way back home.

Gun chuckles but you don't hear it.

You don't form a coherent thought again until that evening, when Gun beats you on Tekken and in a fit of rage and frustration, you finally break your controller.

To make things fair, Gun’s dislike of Literature is offset by how knowledgeable he is with Biology.

The human body, to be precise, and alarmingly so. Maybe serial killer levels of knowledge, with how much he knows about organs and muscles and tissues and everything in between.

He explains that it's useful for training, as if that's any explanation at all for his extensive knowledge. However, you've seen his body and heard enough about his past and yes, including his actual training, to realise that it does make sense in a way and you let it go.

Well.

Maybe you would have fought it a bit harder if you yourself was any good with biology but you're not. If he's great at it because he's a serial killer, then fortune favours the bold and you might as well take advantage of it.

Gun is a very very good teacher, which you did not predict and in a way you didn't expect.

His jaw is tense and the grip on the textbook tightens after you get the answer wrong for the 15th time and when you think he's about to whack you with said textbook, he closes his eyes and counts to ten.

When he opens them again, he tries another method with you. Then another. And another.

Truly, you did not think he had this sort of tolerance or patience.

He explains things simply and calmly (though you've noticed he has started to grit out his words). Unfortunately you still find all this theory hard to wrap your head around.

"Are you going to hit me?" You ask.

"Yes," Gun says though he doesn't. He looks more like he's going to ram his head through a wall. Neither happens and he continues to work through the textbook with you.

Hours later, it clicks.

You feel something of a genius even if Gun’s hair resembles a bird nest from the amount of time he has ran his fingers through in exasperation.

After finding out that you broke your controller, Gun buys you a new one immediately.

He's very generous and kind, you think, and it may be the first time in existence anyone has considered Gun as kind.

Until you realise he has other reasons for doing so.

That night, and for several nights after too, Gun is merciless when he KOs you. Each match is shorter than the previous.

You register this is payback for the biology stint. It's got to be.

Nevertheless, because you're the bigger person and you take the defeats on the chin, as thanks and in an almost mirror image of Gun repaying your Literature help, you suggest taking him out for a coffee.

Getting a coffee to-go and hand delivering it would be much easier, but you can't bring yourself to order an espresso for someone even if it is their drink of choice.

You take him to one of your favourite coffeehouses. Somewhere much less lavish than the one he frequents and much more agreeable to your meagre pockets although the coffee is just as good.

"Two espressos," Gun says at the counter.

"One," you cut in firmly, holding yourself back from gagging. If you have to pay for it, you won't be drinking that bitter sludge. You rattle off your usual: a monstrosity made with double-digit syrup pumps and whipped cream and Gun flinches in your periphery.

Despite your insistence, he beats you to the punch and pays for the order anyway. Not before adding a jab that your coffee, if you can even call it a coffee, is the worst thing he has ever had the misfortune to spend money on.

"Try it," you offer, when your drink is in your hand and Gun watches every sip with mounting horror.

"No," His mouth is pressed into a thin line and he looks like he has half a mind to knock the cup out of your hand. He refrains, clenches his knuckles and rests them on his knee.

He closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You watch him, heartily enjoying your sugary drink and sucking noisily on the straw. He twitches and starts counting from one again. You feel a surge of affection.

Without any other plans, both of you amble together through the quiet streets. You window-shop as Gun smokes next to you and attempts to buy everything that you set your eye on.

You tell him thanks but no thanks and continue to look at pretty trinkets and funky decor. In the glass reflection, you notice Gun fondly looking at you.

"Hi," you smile, turning towards him. He looks more handsome than ever in the sunlight. You don't even mind the amount of gel in his hair.

"Hey," he says, low and hushed. He steps towards you, leaving only a hairbreadth of air in between and tips your chin up to face him with his fingers.

You notice his pupils are blown wide, flickering down to your lips. Gun dips down at the same time you press up onto your tiptoes, and you feel his chest against yours, his other arm winding around your waist, breath fanning over your skin-

This is it, you think, finally.

This, sadly, is not it.

"GUN!" you hear a voice screeching. You both tear your attention from each other to the shrill noise.

A blonde guy in the loudest suit you have ever cast your eyes upon is waving manically in your direction.

"Do you know him?" you ask and Gun's lips are thinner than you have ever seen.

"No."

"GUN!" The blonde yells again and you raise an eyebrow at your companion.

His face looks pained as he tells you that is Goo Kim and when you ask if you both should go over and say hi, he snaps back absolutely not with a frown.

"Let's go," he says, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you in the opposite direction. Behind you, you hear cackling and Gun hastens his footsteps as if being chased by a deranged spirit.

You don't see the blonde again for the rest of the day although Gun’s phone seems to be going off every other minute.

The moment you had is never quite recaptured. You can't bring yourself to mind too much though, as Gun never lets go of your hand.

And everytime he catches you smiling at your hand in his, he gives you a light squeeze and returns the smile.

If you thought school would be all cutesy and you would take turns in helping each other with topics you're stuck on, you're wrong.

Turns out, both you and Gun are equally bad at math.

You watch, face blank, at your screen as the teacher explains algebra. At least, you think that’s what the jumble of numbers and letters are because your ears refuse to make sense of the words.

You search the monitor for Gun to see how well he is faring and find him staring dead-eyed.

Not very, then.

In class, you see Gun's textbook with some attempt at notes in the margin before devolving into his lewd stick men doodles that he still insists are fighting stances.

"You shouldn't cover your page in smut. No wonder you're bad at this." You tease.

He doesn't look at you, doesn't rise to the bait. Simply rebukes, "Your book is blank and you're still shit."

"Asshole," you hiss and his dead eyed stare is replaced with a smirk.

As it happens, Gun can be very convincing when he wants to be.

A fellow student trails behind Gun in the library, and offers to help you and him out with your lack of mathematical comprehension.

You ignore that the student seems absolutely terrified and keeps giving fearful glances to Gun as he peers at them menacingly.

So what if the convincing involves some light threats of bodily harm or whatever Gun has so charmingly offered if that means you will pass. Didn’t you already establish that you have questionable morals? You’re too set in your ways and there's no point fighting it now.

Neither of you get any further after a few hours, and it doesn't help that the student gets more and more nervous each time you and Gun get a question wrong.

Explanations devolve into stammering and barely strung together sentences as if their life depends on you both understanding basic algebra.

They let out a petrified squeak when Gun snaps his fifth pen in half, noticing he has no more pens and may very well come for their neck.

Maybe he will.

"Leave." Gun commands, pinching his nose bridge when he realises this is futile and the student scarpers off.

"I hate this," You say, dejected, and you watch Gun close his eyes and quietly count to ten.

As it happens, Gun can be very resourceful too when he wants to be.

The following week, the teacher trails behind Gun to the library and offers to help you both out.

He seems equally afraid, eyes flickering over to Gun, and you choose not to focus on that, instead smiling brightly at his kindness.

The teacher, gripping the textbook white knuckled, breathes a sigh of relief hours later when both you and Gun start to answer the questions correctly and with accurate workings too.

In your mind, you have both learnt something and he has avoided an ass kicking so you're all winners here.

Nevermind the fact that Gun would have been the one handing out the ass kicking. There's no need to focus on such details.

From this distance, you find a figure chain smoking again. You’re now so familiar with his body language, with his mannerisms, that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s Gun and clearly there’s also something playing on his mind.

He sucks a cigarette down to the filter and lights up another one immediately after.

You worry about the poor state of his lungs and if he looks like this when he’s only 20, then mid-life will actually hit him hard. His body must be running on fumes. He really should cut down on the cigarettes and the caffeine and get a better night's sleep instead of staying up all night gaming.

Not that you’re one to talk.

Perhaps it’s due to how he’s on alert for your presence like you are to him, his eyes snap to yours the moment you start to make your way over.

“You ok?” you ask and he gives you a funny look. It’s the same look whenever you express interest in his well being, or any general interest in him at all, and you think poor guy.

“Fine,” he responds, finishing off another cigarette and flicking it onto the floor.

And another thing, he really shouldn’t litter.

You don’t hesitate to tell him so, and as your tongue unravels, you start to also mention the smoking and his health and how you’re worried about him. Yes he clearly works out but all the cigarettes and lack of sleep will take a toll on him eventually.

Gun’s eyebrows climb into his hairline at your words. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that what was supposed to come across as caring is very much coming across as a lecture though you can’t seem to stop.

As you begin to mention the obscene amount of gel he wears in his hair, his expression turns from bemused to sour and he cuts you off.

“You can nag me at mine over Tekken.”

“I’m not nagging-” you start, and then you abruptly stop as your brain kicks into gear and it sinks in that he has invited you over to his again.

Oh right. His.

The junkyard.

At some point, you’ve forgotten that you’re in love with the King of Raccoons. That this guy willingly lives in a shack in the middle of, what you can only politely describe as, garbage, and you wonder how your life has come to this.

Gun is patient as he waits for your answer and his eyes are warm. It doesn’t sway you though. You want to counter with No. Why don’t you come to mine then you remember his beautiful bed. Yes you’re getting ahead of yourself but if there’s a chance you get to experience it again, sure. You will come to his raccoon den.

You agree and he gives you the softest smile you have ever seen.

“Shit,” you say, crestfallen and hanging limply.

“Shouldn’t you be used to losing by now?” comes Gun’s voice and you want to bounce the controller off his head.

“Shut up.”

“Your combinations are weak and poorly timed. You don’t understand how to use your characters or their advantages and you have no idea how to counter my moves.”

As the killing blow to your ego and pride, he adds, "You won that time because I let you."

A part of you already knew that yet you still stare at him agape at his audacity. Sitting, manspreading, on his armchair while he casually assassinates your skills.

“I’m not wrong.” He says with a smirk.

“Shut up,” you repeat, standing up.

“I can train you.”

“Shut up,” you stalk over to him.

“Or what?” He sits back to look up at you as you hover over him. Chin lifted defiantly and his eyes daring.

“This,” you snap, gripping him by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards you. You’re sick of losing and you’re sick of waiting.

You clash your lips together and feel Gun exhale sharply in surprise at your actions. He tenses, for a split second, before he tugs you into his lap and your legs straddle his thighs. His hand reaches under your top, sliding their way across your skin as you grind down.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling away, lips glossy and gazing at you half-lidded.

He leans back to look at you properly, removing his hand as you subconsciously chase his touch, then with gentle hands, he cups your face and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

The TV screen illuminates his features, light reflecting in his eyes and you find something you only saw an inkling of during that first night, but has grown strong and steady since.

Gun looks at you like he did then - soft, like you might break. Holds you the same way he had done - tender and precious.

Only this time, there’s a steeled resolve in his face as he presses your bodies together, capturing your lips against his once more and you melt into his embrace. He’s much more gentle than you were but there’s a hunger and quiet desperation as his tongue swipes over your lips and slips in your mouth.

Your fingers run through his hair, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it soft. All this time there wasn’t too much gel at all.

Gun wakes up the next morning with you drooling into his collar bone.

You wake up after the best night sleep of your life - wrapped in Gun’s arms and in the most comfortable bed known to man.

#you people have ground me down. i never intended a part 2. I WAS DONE #lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

616 notes · View notes

loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 1 year ago

Text

Kinkmas (11)- The Grinch Who Stole Her Heart

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: When a certain witch discovers your hate for Christmas, she can't help but try her best into convincing you to love the festive season.

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings/Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow burn, Fluff, Domestic Avengers, Christmas Fluff, Flirting, Crushes, Mutual Pining, Christmas Decorating, Gingerbread houses, Ice Skating, Snowball Fights, Soft Smut, First time, Inexperienced Wanda/Experienced Reader, Fingering, Praise, Confessions, Aftercare

Kinkmas Masterlist

---

Gentle chatter and a tranquil, festive atmosphere wrapped around the common room of the compound like a warm, cosy blanket, most of the team bunched up on various sofas with snacks ready in hand, waiting for Wanda to finally press the play button to start Home Alone on the big screen.

The witch, however, was not ready to start the movie, her eyes flickering over the content and excited faces of the team, searching for one individual in particular.

You.

Where were you?

"Where's Y/n?" Wanda asked, puzzled, the soft murmur in the room going quiet, curious and confused gazes meeting one another at the brunette's question, apprehensive to tell the truth.

Natasha carefully placed down the bowl of popcorn that was in her lap, inadvertently stopping Clint from stealing more of the treat which made him grumble a little, the redhead looking between the rest of the team, not wanting to dampen the young woman's mood.

It had become abundantly clear over the last few days and since the start of December that Wanda was in love with the idea of Christmas and all the festive traditions, the team having tried their best to keep you away from her, despite the witch subconsciously seeking you out, her mind unable to explain why her heart would flutter in your presence, her mood always being lifted by you.

"Y/n isn't a 'fan' of Christmas," Natasha cautiously phrases her words, not wanting to ruin the mood that was so gratefully appreciated in the room, the uplifted mood of Christmas enabling the mighty Avengers to have some time to relax and spend together as a family.

"What?" Wanda's tone signalling her confusion at how someone could possibly not like Christmas, her head tilting in her usual manner, Pietro speeding from the sofa to stand with his sister, seemingly just as baffled.

"How can she not be a fan of Christmas?" Pietro adds, just as obsessed with the festive season as his sister, his love for it being driven by the sheer amount of food and presents though.

"She just..." Natasha trails off, thinking how to explain your lack of jolliness, her eyes flickering to Clint for a little help. The archer simply shrugs, her leg kicking back at his shin for his lack of usefulness, a small yelp escaping him as he grabs the popcorn bowl, deciding that the food would be a sufficient apology from her.

"She hates it," Tony bluntly puts it, everyone's head turning from the sofas to the billionaire in the kitchen, fixing himself a ridiculously large hot chocolate in the beautifully decorated kitchen, annoyance written across Steve and Natasha's face as they wanted to keep it a peaceful evening.

"She doesn't 'hate' it," Steve tries to reason, his blue eyes flickering towards Sam and Bucky who are disinterested in what's going on, most likely bickering between themselves over who gets more room on the sofa.

"Oh come on Capsicle," Tony teases, Steve's cheeks darkening at the nickname the man uses for him, mumbling under his breath an 'oh god' at the billionaire's mischievous tone. "She hates it. End of. We've all tried to get her to like it but she just refuses to enjoy the Christmas spirit," he says whilst placing his steaming mug down, flopping onto his section of the sofa and asking Friday to lower the lights, wanting to watch the film now. "Now, are we going to watch the film or not?" He asks, clearly not bothered by your absence.

"Not all of us have tried," Wanda says after a moment, tossing the remote to Natasha, hoping she'd somehow keep the boys in check, knowing the chaos the entire team could cause without her magic there to stop objects flying across the room. "Start the film without me," Wanda calls out, walking out of the room, determined to find your room and figure out a way to persuade you into falling in love with the magical season.

Despite not figuring out a plan, the brunette knocks on your door with purpose, waiting outside for you to open up, various thoughts flooding through her mind as she impatiently plays with the rings on her fingers.

Eventually, you open your bedroom door, your brow raising at her current outfit, a smug smirk creeping onto your lips. The Christmas themed pyjamas amused you as you let your eyes wander down the various festive items decorating the fabric, the red and green chequered pants slightly too long for her as they pooled around her ankles, the fluffy socks further entertaining you as you stood in a simple, thin shirt and joggers, a stark contrast to her holiday themed get up.

"What-"

"Why do you hate Christmas?" she asks, enticing green eyes gazing into yours curiously, your eyes widening at her forward question, a soft chuckle escaping you, Wanda unable to stop the swarm of butterflies in her stomach at the sound.

"Why do you love Christmas?" You counter, leaning against the door frame as you see various emotions flicker across her face, your features softening at her adorably annoyed state.

"Why do I love Christmas?" She repeats almost shocked, still baffled at the whole ordeal, "It's just magical," her tone laced with the love she has for the time of year. "It's a time to spend with family, to give gifts, to have fun with silly traditions," she lists, watching closely to your reactions as your soft expression remains uninterested.

"Just seems like a lot of effort to me," you casually say, her brows furrowing at your words, mouth parting and closing, unsure of what to say. "Is that all you wanted to ask? I'm currently in the middle of a mission report," your tone is annoyingly soft and calm, determination brewing in Wanda to show you how amazing Christmas was but still unsure how.

"No, I..." she trails off for a moment, tilting her head marginally to the side as she thinks hard about how to convince you. "Do you really hate it?" She asks, tone trying her best to hide the disappointment that filled her, your smile softening, body pushing yourself off the frame of the door to look at her properly, still amused at her clothing.

"It's just not for me, Wanda," your tone apologetic as you gathered how much she loved the season, your heart clenching a little at the despondent look that took over her face, wishing you could ensure a smile was always on her lips, only ever wanting her to be happy.

"Ok," she whispers, slowly nodding at your words and turning around to retreat to where the rest of the team was, a sudden idea entering her mind as she hears you shutting the door. "Give me one week," her tone desperate and rushed as your hand halted, opening the door with a confused look, laughing softly as she quickly walked back over to the door, fluffy socks sliding a little on the smooth floor.

"What?" your tone matches the curiosity engraved on your face, smile widening at the glint of hope in her eyes.

"Give me one week to show you how magical Christmas is," she explains further, her enchanting green eyes almost putting you under a spell, part of you contemplating giving into her despite your dislike for everything about December 25th. Your face shows your conflicted state, Wanda taking your delayed response as a win, her nose scrunching up in a way that has your heart beating wildly in your chest, an inexplicable onrush of affection flowing through you. "Please?" she adds, excitement creeping into he tone as you sigh out heavily, unable to resist the soft spot you had for her, a smile gracing your features.

"One week," you begrudgingly say, a smile still present on your face though as her lips stretch into a wide grin, joy filling her as various ideas flood through her mind, ready to warm you up to the season.

***

"I'm not so sure you're trying to convince me," you mutter, lifting the heavy box of decorations and trudging your way towards her room, "I feel like you're just using me for slave labour," you grumble, peaking over the box to watch your step, bumping into the corner of the door frame before dropping the box onto the floor, a rattle of baubles filling the room.

"If you stopped complaining and acting like the grinch this would be a whole lot easier," she teases, crouching down and opening the box, looking up at you with a small smirk that has you rolling your eyes, happiness taking over your chest as you follow her command.

"The grinch is an icon," you mumble, flickering your gaze away from the aesthetic decorations in the box and into her alluring green, finding them far more interesting than the shiny plastic objects.

"Yeah? And why is that?" Her tone is playful and cheerful, eliciting an involuntary smile from you as you struggle to maintain your composure near her, the crush you thought you had gotten over seeming to resurface, her brow raising expectantly as she waits for you to continue.

"He lives in a mountain with his dog, away from people, sounds like heaven to me," your tone slightly sarcastic, earning a soft laughter from her, her eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. Her gaze drifts away from you as her own heart starts to beat wildly in her chest at being able to spend time with you, her lips pulling up into a shy smile. "And he's green," you add, a humorous grin taking over your face, cracking her composure.

A giggle leaves her lips at your tone, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tries to stifle her laugh, her eyes meeting yours with an amused glimmer in them, your smile widening as warmth floods through you in a tender manner.

"What's so special about the colour green?" She manages to ask when she stops laughing, entertained by your words, reluctantly turning her back away from you as she moves towards the tree in her room with a bundle of lights, beckoning you over as she untangles them, wanting your help to decorate her room as she hadn't had time to do it yet.

It's the colour of your eyes is what you initially think of saying, a small blush appearing on your cheeks as you rethink an answer, grateful she wasn't looking at you as you thought it, her head soon looking back over her shoulder as you don't answer.

"I don't know," you unconvincingly respond, shoulders shrugging, "It's just a cool colour." Wanda chuckles, clearly not believing your vague answer as she looks at your form over her shoulder, playfully shaking her head before continuing to wrap the lights around the pine tree while you gradually make your way over to her, your attention flickering over to her desk.

"Oh my god," you laugh out, admiring the framed photograph of Wanda and Pietro dressed up for Halloween in Sokovia, chuckling at their ridiculous outfits. "Pietro looks like Fury with that eye patch," you snicker out, Wanda rushing over to you and sliding the photo out of your hands, embarrassed by her toothy grin in it, a smile still on her face as she hears your genuine laugh, her gaze moving to the photo of her and her brother that she always loved.

"He wanted to be his own version of a pirate," she explains with a nostalgic tone, placing down the photo while you just admire her features, getting lost in thought again, the feelings you tried to bury trying their best to take over you as you simply smile at her softly, a tender expression taking over her face at your enamoured gaze.

"I bet he was just as annoying as a child as he is now," you tease, making her laugh again, your heart melting at being able to hear the sound again, the brunette placing an ornament in your hand to stop you procrastinating, sensing your attempt at stalling her plans.

"Even more," she jokes, her fingers brushing over yours softly, the touch engraved in your memory as they pull away from you, Wanda snapping you out of your thoughts as she continues. "Now come on, we have a tree to decorate," her tone adding excitement to it as you let out a displeased grumble, still smiling at her though.

Maybe, just maybe, the next week wasn't going to be as bad as you thought.

***

"I hope you know I'm only here because you promised me food," you mumble whilst your hand supports your head as you sit at the kitchen island, eyes wandering around the various decorations littered around the room then towards the woman in front of you, observing how she rolls out the gingerbread.

A soft, genuine smile takes over her face in amusement, her gaze lifting to meet your form watching her attentively, chuckling softly as she continues to measure out the dimensions for the house she intended on making, a playful and teasing expression taking over her angelic features.

"Is that so?" she asks, slicing through the dough she's rolled to create the walls of the house, your eyes trained on the deft way her fingers move, gaze lifting to watch her concentrate, in awe of her working. You knew Wanda loved to cook and bake, but to watch her properly, almost intimately, made you truly appreciate her love for the hobby.

"Yep," you say while popping the 'p', smiling at the way she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, a streak of powdered sugar visible against her skin, your teeth biting down on your lip to stop yourself from laughing at her cute state.

"Well if someone wants to eat they have to help," her tone reprimanding you for not helping her at all so far.

"I've helped," you say, pretending to take offence as she uses her magic to softly push you off the stool at the kitchen island, a small groan leaving you as you eventually wander around the kitchen to stand next to her. "Does moral support not mean anything anymore?" you mutter as she hands you a spoon, your fake mood crumbling away at the way she peers up at you with a raised brow, the streak of sugar making you smile.

"What?" she laughs out when you end up staring at her forehead too long, a nervous expression on her face as you grab a cloth from the countertop and delicately wipe away the mess on her skin, her cheeks a similar colour to her magic as she tries to control her emotions, a shy smile taking over her features as you meet her gaze with an affectionate look.

"There's my contribution," you joke, tossing the cloth back onto the countertop as Wanda sees the small smear of powdered sugar on the fabric, the wave of embarrassment never coming as you continue to smile at her, her head shaking at your antics.

"You're not getting out of it that easy," she chuckles out, setting up the bowl for you to make the icing in, handing you everything you'd need before checking on the gingerbread that was in the oven, making sure everything was going to plan.

After you've made the icing and the dough is baked to perfection as well as having cooled down, Wanda starts to put together the house with your help, deciding to ask Friday to help encourage the festive spirit by getting them to play the witch's Christmas playlist, an amused glint present in your eyes as you picture her listening to the music on her own, most likely dancing to each tune.

Your fingers carefully hold the wall of gingerbread, Wanda delicately piping the icing along the edges to help stabilise the structure, the smell of the freshly made treat making your mouth yearn to taste the delicious flavours, the other woman humming the tune to the song that was playing as you assembled the house together. Quicker than you expected, you had the house made and just in need of decorating, your gaze now on Wanda who softly sang the lyrics to 'Last Christmas', a mischievous smile taking over your face.

As if sensing your gaze on her, she met your admiring stare, her smile stretching that little bit wider as she lifts the spoon from the icing bowl, using it as a microphone as she keeps her enchanting eyes on you.

"Tell me, baby, do you recognise me?" she sings, her voice angelic as you can't help but watch in awe as she subtly dances near you, walking behind your body and enticing you to follow her. "Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me," her gentle voice sounding around the room, blessing your ears as she sings the iconic song, "'Happy Christmas', I wrapped it up and sent it, with a note saying 'I love you' I meant it, now I know what a fool I've been." Her words further lure you into being amazed by her, your body turning once again to follow her movements, her body next to yours as she places the bowls she's just collected on the countertop, her eyes lifting up to meet your enamoured gaze, "But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again." Your breath hitches at the way her eyes subconsciously drift to your lips before flickering back up, the soft, loving glint evident in her eyes as the gaze lingers, her only breaking the gaze when the desire to kiss you becomes too strong.

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day-"

"You sold it on ebay," you interrupt, a teasing smile on your lips as you steal the piping bag from her, a laugh spilling from her lips at your immature behaviour. "This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to Marks and Spencers," her hand lightly slaps your arm as you 'ruined' the chorus for her, her smile almost reaching her ears though at the pure joy you managed to fill her with, your arms raising in surrender as you see wisps of magic flicker at her fingers, knowing how she could torture you with ticklish sensations like she did a couple days ago when decorating the tree. "Ok, ok," you laugh out in surrender as the red tendrils brush over your skin, "Tesco extra instead of Marks and Spencers?"

She simply smacks you lightly once again on the shoulder, her hand lingering against your body before pulling back, rolling her eyes at your amused and smug smile, cheekily squeezing a little of the icing onto your finger to taste it.

"Mhmm delicious," you softly moan at the sweet treat, exaggerating your love for the simple food you made, Wanda stealing the bag back from you and pointing it at you like it was a weapon.

"Stop eating all the decorations," she mutters, using her magic to push away the bowl full of sprinkles, laughing softly at the way your hand misses and hits the table, a small pout forming on your lips.

"Fine," you grumble as she hands you the piping bag back, letting you have full reign on decorating the gingerbread house, something she'd inevitably regret.

***

A couple hours later you're sprawled out against the sofa, a bowl of the broken gingerbread house in your lap as you tilt your head to look at Wanda, once again admiring her features while she was fully immersed in whatever was playing on the tv.

Your eyes focus on each delicate feature of her face, trailing over the slight dust of pink on her cheeks, a few strands of brunette locks framing her face perfectly and the gentle slope of her nose before spending a little more time admiring her plump lips and eventually settling on her mesmerising eyes. Your heart clenched a little at her beauty, your gaze eventually being torn away from her as you knew you shouldn't think of her as more of a friend, to get lost in fantasy of what it would feel like to be with her all over again as you remember the pain of pushing it all down.

The soft giggle that left her lips immediately knocked you out of your thoughts, the smile that seemed ever present near her emerging once again as you raised your brow at her when you met her gaze, her nose scrunching in that captivating manner as red wisps form at the tips of her fingers once again.

"I thought we were going to share the gingerbread," She teases lightly, using her magic to steal a piece from you, your hand wrapping protectively around your bowl of treats.

"Woah, this is mine Maximoff," you defensively say, using her surname playfully, addicted to the taste of the icing you used to cover most of the crisp gingerbread, the aim of your decorations to give you a sugar overload. "I decorated it," you mumble, squinting your eyes at her when she floats over a larger piece from the bowl in faux annoyance, your hands placing the bowl down as there way no way you'd be able to stop her magic, your eyes watching with interest how the red tendrils delicately flow through the air.

"And I made it," she counters, biting into the corner of the roof, a pleased noise escaping her at the taste of it, the festive spirit further consuming her as the taste brings back many memories of past Christmases, a nostalgic look taking over her face momentarily.

"I thought you were trying to convince me to like Christmas," you joke as you lean back against the sofa, eyes trained on her as she raises her brow at your relaxed manner, continuing to eat her piece of gingerbread.

"I am, is it working?" She asks, smiling at you hopefully, her enthralling green solely focused on you making it hard to think straight and come up with your usual sarcastic remark. You pause for a moment, Wanda's head tilting in curiosity as you remain silent, a small blush forming on your cheeks as you gather yourself together.

"It would be if I got to eat all the gingerbread," you tease eventually, switching your gaze to something other than her alluring beauty, eyes landing on the various sweets stuck on the white icing.

"Is it actually working though?" She asks again, voice holding a more serious and intrigued tone compared to her joking tone, her green containing a hint of nerves as she really hoped it was.

Your mouth opens and closes to respond, unsure of what to say. If you were being honest, you didn't love the festive season any more, you simply enjoyed the last three days because you were with her.

"It hasn't changed my opinion on Christmas," you say softly, her face dropping a little making you continue, "But, I have had so much fun over the last few days, I... I've really enjoyed spending time with you," you fix her mood instantly, a blush taking over her face this time, her gaze flickering away from you, teeth biting down softly on her lower lip to try and contain her smile.

"Yeah?" she murmurs out a little timidly, gathering the courage to meet your softening gaze once more, the two of you smiling at each other, unaware of the swirling emotions in both of you. "Well still I've got four more days to fix that," she says, tone determined and adamant that she would persuade you, your smile growing that little bit wider at her confidence, part of you hoping she was right just to see that smile on her face.

***

"I'm not so sure about this Wanda," your voice a little shaky as your fingers grip the edge of the wall as tightly as possible, the ice skates you were wearing sliding on the ice in a manner than unnerved you, your eyes lifting to find Wanda only to see her skating off skilfully, turning back to you with a teasing look.

"Come on, I promise it's fun," she calls back, swarms of people brushing past you, further adding to your nerves as you hated how unstable you felt, her green eyes meeting yours through the crowd, sensing how uncomfortable you felt.

You watched a little embarrassed as she effortlessly skated over to you, the sound of screaming children nearby and the scratching of ice being blocked out as she comes closer to you, a different kind of anxiety flowing through you at her little smirk.

"Is the infamous Y/n, world hero and Avenger, scared of ice skating?" she teases softly, your eyes rolling at her comment. Just because you were an Avenger didn't mean you enjoyed activities like this.

"No..." you trailed off, your foot slipping slightly, Wanda watching how your body immediately tensed, knuckles bleeding white at your grip on the edge of the wall, her hand moving to your lower back to keep you stable, wanting to make sure you were alright. "Maybe just a little," you confess quietly, hoping she wouldn't find it a problem, her smile turning a little sympathetic. "It's scary ok? Steve got stuck in ice for like seventy plus years in it so it must be very dangerous," you explain, a genuine laugh slipping past her lips at your reasoning.

"It was only sixty six years," she corrects, your head shaking a little at her words, your mind processing where her hand was, a wave of butterflies taking over your body as your fingers adjust their grip on the cold edge.

"Do you trust me?" Her voice a gentle whisper, your mind focussing on her, only her as she looks at you as if you were the only thing going on in the ice rink, your head nodding as you couldn't muster any words to leave your mouth, far too nervous to not embarrass yourself any further.

Her hands gently clasp yours, her fingers intimately interlocking with yours, her soft gaze meeting your hesitant one, her feet guiding her backwards as she slides across the ice, pulling you carefully with her.

"Bend your knees a little," she instructs, trying to guide you into the best position so you wouldn't fall. You try to listen to her but the feeling of her impossibly soft hands in yours makes all common sense leave your mind, your body just about listening to her instructions. "Don't lean too far forwards if you don't want to fall," she playfully whispers, keeping you close to her as she can tell it's keeping you calm, her intoxicating perfume reaching your senses and further drowning you in the thought of her. "That's it," she praises softly, a small smile reaching your lips as you skate slightly on your own, still tightly gripping onto her, not that she minded.

The two of you did a few laps around the ring, your grip on her gradually decreasing as your confidence grew, the two of you stopping by a wall to relax for a moment, your cheeks and noses tinted pink from the cold room, smiles engraved on both of your faces.

Your smile widens when you see a child fall over, a snicker leaving your lips as you can't help it, Wanda playfully pushing you at your reaction, reprimanding your behaviour as the mother briefly looks over towards you two in annoyance, her child's face pulling into distress. Panic flashes across your face as you slip a little, your arm shooting out to wrap around hers, pulling yourself into her body, flush against her, making both of your blushes darken a little, her arm wrapping around you to keep you upright.

"Don't," you mumble when you feel her laugh against you, your body melting against hers as she keeps you stable and secure, her body also helping you keep warm.

"Don't what? Tease you?" She chuckles out, your head turning to meet her amused and mischievous gaze, breath hitching a little as you underestimated the space between you, your lips mere inches away from hers, both of your gazes drifting down to one another's mouths.

The heat that washes over you when her slightly darkened green meet yours causes you to straighten your back, pulling yourself further away from her face, your hand hesitantly reaching further down her arm to her fingers, interlocking them once again to try and keep your thoughts on anything but the longing to feel her lips on yours, a brief moment of courage washing through you when she doesn't pull back.

"I won't tease you," she whispers out once she's gotten control over her pounding heart, her cheeks still tinted pink as she smiles at your hand holding hers, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand, grateful for you being braver than her and initiating something. "But that doesn't mean I won't tell Nat," a soft laugh leaves you as you meet her eyes once more, sensing the mirth in them as she imagined the various ways the Russian would torment you.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it," you mumble, her nose scrunching at your tone, the action making you think it was worth any amount of teasing comments that Natasha could throw at you, the warmth that wrapped around your heart at her expression worth anything in the world as she drags you away from the wall again, skating with you, hand in hand.

***

A relentless pounding at your door has you reluctantly rolling out of bed, in dire need of a nap after the new workout Natasha wanted to try with you, your body ready to sink into your soft mattress and relax for just a little bit.

"You better have some more gingerbread," you mutter as you hear Wanda call your name through the door, your hand turning your door handle and opening, revealing the woman who consumed all your thoughts. "What-" A thick winter coat was thrown at you, your body not expecting the item making you take a step back, your eyes widening at Wanda in confusion as you properly took a hold of the clothing item, the coat a contrast to your oversized shirt and joggers.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" she sings in a teasing voice, a groan leaving your lips at the movie reference, a tired sigh leaving your lips.

"I just wanna sleep," you whine out as she simply walks into your room as you turn away, smiling at the way you still comply to her question, searching through your wardrobe for a thick jumper and pants, not wanting to freeze in the cold as snowflakes gracefully spilled from the sky, the grass surrounding the compound drowning in the white blanket of snow.

"You can sleep later," her tone amused at the way you shake your head at her, amazed at the way she has you wrapped around her finger as you shrug on the coat she tossed you, turning your head and sending a pointed look.

"This better be worth it," you mumble, her body coming closer to yours and fixing your hood as it was sticking out weird, her cold fingers brushing the back of your neck causing you to wake up a little more.

"Spending time with me is always worth it," she whispers, recalling how you confessed to her how you enjoyed being with her, a smile creeping onto your lips as you chuckle at her words, her eyes peering up into yours as you let her fix your outfit, unable to stop the warmth bubbling inside you.

"That is true," you murmur ever so softly, her smile widening as she lets her hands drift to your shoulders to smooth the coat out, growing in confidence near you after being together for the last four days constantly. "But sleep is pretty amazing too," you mumble, earning her signature nose scrunch, your heart beating that little bit faster at the enamoured look in her eyes.

"Come on," she sighs out, walking behind you and pushing you towards the door, struggling a little as you use your strength to keep you planted.

"Save me bed! She's trying to kidnap me," you call out dramatically, chuckling as she uses her magic to push you out of the door, you calling out of your bed once more, earning another string of laughter from her as she leads you out of the compound, walking side by side with you, letting your bodies brush.

A chill takes over your body as you trudge your way through the snow that's piling up, the sound of satisfying crunches and nearby birds filling the air as you let Wanda lead you to the best place to build her desired snowman. You watch with an affectionate gaze at her thick gloves and the scarf that's wrapped so tightly around her neck, the bobble hat that she stole from you moving with each step she takes, her head looking her shoulder at you, her smile almost reaching her ears.

You follow her until she stops, deciding this was the best location to build it, her eyes looking back at the compound and ensuring you'd be able to see it from the large window in the common room, unaware of the redhead and archer sitting peacefully together, curious as to what you two were doing, a glint of realisation flickering across Natasha's face.

Unable to stop yourself, you give into the temptation of crouching down in the snow, grabbing a handful of it and moulding it into the shape of a large snowball, trying to perfect the shape to make it easier to throw.

"Hey Wanda?" You call out innocently, lining up your shot as you wait for her to turn around, her eyes glimmering with joy before widening, unable to move out of the way as the snow crashes against her body, exploding into various fragments of white dust, a gasp leaving her lips.

You can't help but laugh wholeheartedly at her reaction, an uncontrollable laughter escaping you as happiness consumes you entirely, shock present on her face to begin with before revenge takes over, taking advantage of your distracted state and grabbing a handful of snow, ready to throw it back at you.

Your laughter is interrupted when she headshots you with the snowball, disbelief evident on your face as her smile grows smug, a dangerous chuckle leaving you making her smile slowly fade, mischief evident on your face. At your expression, Wanda starts to run, laughter spilling from her lips as she gets a head start, your legs swiftly moving to catch up with her.

"Oh no you don't," you call out, your smile engraved on your face as you chase after, using your abilities to help you catch up to her. You can't stop the genuine laughter that escapes you as you dodge the snowballs her magic throws at you blindly, your body gradually catching up to her, inching closer as the two of you trample through the snow like idiots, not caring about anything else in the world but one another. Eventually, your arm wraps around her middle, pulling her closer to your body as you grab a load of snow with your other hand, intending on dropping it on her head, your plan not working as you both go tumbling in the snow, laughter still sounding around the two of you. "Gotcha," you chuckle out as you land on top of her, her hands holding onto your shoulders as your body is flush against hers, your hand cupping the back of her head protectively and the other bracing your body above hers.

Her breath gently fans across your face as you both pant a little from the sudden running, your eyes getting lost in hers as she smiles up at you angelically, your gaze eventually drifting across her features, still stunned by her beauty. Your gaze settles on her lips, watching how she subtly wets her lower lip before her teeth gently bite down on it, your eyes flickering up to her softening green, building up to ask her the question you've wanted to for ages.

"Can.... Can I kiss you?" your voice a barely audible whisper, the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage deafening in your ears as you await a response, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering vigorously.

"Took you long enough to ask," she murmurs playfully, having heard your thoughts about her eyes all those days ago, piecing together that you may have felt the same way about her as she did towards you.

Her fingers fisted against the hem of your coat and pulled you down into her body, claiming your lips in the way you both longed for. You kissed her tenderly, her lips pressing over yours just as affectionately, the cold tip of her nose brushing against yours as you got lost in the moment together. Your eyes fluttered shut to savour the feeling of her mouth, how gentle and soft it was as you weren't guaranteed another chance, another kiss, so you forced your racing thoughts to stop for a moment as your lips moved against hers lovingly, wanting to engrave the feeling into your mind forever. The kiss was shy and timid, your lips remaining together for mere seconds, but the intimacy of it made your head spin with the thought of her. The thought of her body pressed against yours, her mouth pressed against yours, forehead leaning against yours and arms pulling you impossibly closer, it was all too much. You were utterly mesmerised by her. Everything just felt so pure, sogenuine, so... intimate that it made you sigh gently into her mouth, pulling back with nothing but love evident in your eyes as she matched your tender gaze, just as obsessed with you as you were her.

"I told you this would be worth it," she whispers against you, her lips gently brushing yours, enticing you into gently claiming hers once more, smiling into her mouth.

"It really was," you murmur lovingly against her, her head hiding against your shoulder as she can't stop the wide smile appearing on her face, her nose scrunching up once more as you melt against her body, joy coursing through you at what just happened.

She kissed you.

You actually just kissed her.

A wave of giddiness overtook you as you grinned at her when she pulled back from your body, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes as her hands left your body, your mind paying no attention to it as she looked at you in that adoring manner, consuming your thoughts.

What you didn't expect was to feel snow hitting the back of your head, an adorable laugh leaving her at her playful actions, disbelief evident on your face. The feeling of betrayal immediately left you at the heavenly noise that spills delicately from her, your head shaking to remove the snow in your hair as she cups your cheek, guiding you back down for an apologetic kiss, the two of you unable to stop smiling.

Another individual who couldn't stop smiling was Natasha who watched the scene unfold through the window with Clint, glad that you finally acted on your crush and helped her win the bet with the archer. He grumbled as he reached for his wallet, searching for the desired note as a sigh of relief left the redhead when you started to walk hand in hand through the snow, finding somewhere else to finally build the snowman.

***

Humming to yourself, you found yourself in Wanda's room again, this time sprawled out of her bed, waiting for the witch to return with the snacks for the movie night she planned for you. It was going to be a Christmas marathon, starting with Home Alone one and two, then onto the Grinch so Wanda could tease you about your 'icon' and then finally Elf as she was sure you'd be asleep by then, having discovered how much you loved to lay in bed yesterday when you fell asleep during the first attempt at the marathon, much to her amusement. This time, however, she planned to keep you awake with food and potentially a cuddle as the two of you swiftly discovered how much you both craved physical touch, even if it was something small like holding hands, a smile growing on her lips as she enters the room, remembering the various instances of you subtly reaching for her hand and interlocking your fingers.

A soft chuckle leaves her lips at the way your head raises off the bed at the sound of the door shutting, your eyes growing curious when you see the bowl in her hands, instantly perking up and eager to know what she brought. When your eyes saw the popcorn in the bowl, your smile widened, moving around on her bed so that your back was against the pillow at the headboard, arm raising to welcome her body against your side, the other woman complying to your silent request.

The feeling of her body snuggling against yours caused a grin to break out on your face, your heart unable to comprehend the sheer joy you felt over the last few days, grateful for her making such an impact on your life.

"You're incredible," you murmur softly when she places the bowl into your lap, your lips pressing to her temple, the art of being affectionate with one another natural to you both.

"Are you only saying that because I brought food?" she teases, carefully picking up a piece of the sweet and salty treat and placing it into her mouth, her head tilting to rest against your shoulder as she uses her magic to bring the remote closer to you both, her hand effortlessly grabbing it and starting the first film of the night.

"No, I'm saying that because you are the most amazing and beautiful woman I know," you whisper against her hair, earning a blush at your charming words. "Who just happens to always bring me food," you add teasingly, earning a playful pinch to your side, a small yelp leaving you.

"Shhh, just watch the film Detka," she murmurs, your smile widening at the endearment, not commenting on it as she shuffles her body closer to you, her fingers playing with whatever part of your shirt she can reach as the two of you delve into the world of Christmas cinema, content with being one another.

As the film plays on, without even realising it, your hand rests on her thigh, tracing idle patterns against the thin fabric of her pyjama pants, Wanda's cheeks a similar colour to her festive clothing as her thoughts go down a sinful route. She can't help the warmth that pools between her thighs at your actions, your hand high up on her thigh as your toned body presses into her, her mind replaying the image of you working out earlier, the way your body effortlessly showed signs of strength and stamina, her eyes having a hard time from tearing away from your hands, watching as your veins showed slightly, further adding to the arousal that started to build within her as she got lost in thought.

Hesitantly, she tilted her head to rest at the crook of your neck, her lips softly pressing a kiss there as she knew you weren't paying attention to the film, your thoughts growing louder as you replay all your memories with the brunette, the overwhelming amount of happiness and love you felt allowing the witch to hear them. To try and gain your attention, she pressed another kiss to your neck, your breath hitching at the action as your hand freezes at her thigh, her lips burning against your skin as your body grows warmer at her suggestive move.

"Detka," she sighs out, her breath fanning across your skin as she pulls back from your neck, her green eyes meeting yours, desire but also nervousness shimmering them.

"Yes?" you whisper out, gaze subconsciously drifting to her lips, remembering how addictive they are, your own eyes darkening as your gaze lingers, unable to look at anything else.

"I don't think either of us are watching the film," her voice is barely audible as she murmurs the words, tilting her head slightly, the action causing her lips to inch closer to yours, the movement subtly seductive as you wait for her to make the move, sensing a bit of indecision from her.

"I don't think we are," your tone lowering a little, patiently waiting for her, not wanting her to do anything she'd regret.

"I wonder what else we could possibly do..." she trails off, smiling a little shyly, biting down on her lower lip and fuck, you don't think you've ever felt so hot before, the sight of her intoxicating, making it impossible to think straight.

"I have no idea," you whisper back with a small smirk, tilting your head down so that your lips were brushing over hers gently, not applying enough pressure to give her what she wanted, your eyes watching how hers flutter shut, awaiting your mouth. "What do you suggest?"

"I think... I think we should kiss," she rasps out, moving her body so that she was facing you properly, your brow raising a little at her words as your smile grows, fingers moving to brush back a few stray strands of her hair back, eventually letting your hand rest on her cheek, cupping her jaw and bringing her a little closer.

Your eyes flicker over all of her features, admiring them all while waiting for her to lower her face, the brunette only doing so marginally, mirroring your actions and wanting to memorise every inch of your beauty.

It feels like you're waiting an eternity until she lowers her face even more, her lips barely putting any pressure on yours as they briefly brush over them. Your eyes flutter close when you feel her hands cup your jaw, waiting for her to kiss you, to crash her lips to yours, to do anything at this point as you just wait, wait and wait.

When she feels like she's admired you enough and savoured the moment, she kisses you. She kisses you softly and tentatively to begin with as you explore each other's mouths, her actions soon growing a little more confident as the kiss grows hungrier, Wanda seemingly starved of you. It's intimate, it's desperate, it's passionate. It's everything you dreamed it to be.

You can't do anything but give into her relentless mouth, hand clutching at her sweater to ground yourself as all you can think of is her lips moving against yours, her body pressed up against yours, her soft fingers threading through your hair, just her.

A soft moan leaves her when you guide her to straddle your lap, heat immediately taking over her body, your touch burning into her skin as arousal pools between her legs at the feeling of your body pressed against hers, strong arms wrapping around her, a sensual sigh escaping you as when she pulls back from the kiss, eyes darkening with desire as you peer up into the green, a shameless smile on your lips.

"I think we should do that again," you tease, leaning in for another kiss as she smiles against you, her confidence growing with every kiss, every peck in between laboured breaths as her hands move to your shoulders momentarily, gliding them down your back in a seductive way, a groan leaving you at the way her fingers press into the toned muscle satisfyingly.

Experimentally, you slide your tongue into her mouth, a sinful moan escaping her as she welcomes your advances, your hands toying with the hem of her jumper, not sure how far she wanted to go as your mouths move lewdly together, her back arching a little to press her body further against yours.

"Am I going too fast?" Your voice a gentle whisper as you pull back from the kiss, sensing a little bit of nerves from her, eyes gauging her reaction as your fingers had slipped beneath her clothing, feeling the warmth and softness of her bare skin, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she meets your enamoured gaze, not wanting to pressure her.

"No I just-" she cuts herself off, feeling a little embarrassed as your hands slide out of her jumper, snaking around her waist and pulling her closer to rest against your body, bringing her in for a soft embrace that she appreciates. "I never done this before," she confesses, a soft smile appearing on your lips as you guide her head back so you can meet her timid green, "I want to but I just... don't know what I'm doing."

"Do you trust me?" you ask, mimicking her words from the ice skating, your fingers raising to brush back another stray strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear affectionately as she nods. "I'll take care of you, I promise," you whisper, kissing her lips with nothing but love, conveying how gentle you'd be with her. "We can stop at any time," you reassure her, not wanting her to think she's committed to having sex with you, "Just tell me to stop and we stop. I don't care what's happening, all I want is for you to feel safe and comfortable with me." She smiles shyly at your words, tilting her head to kiss you once again, grateful for how caring and considerate you were. "We'll go at your pace, ok?"

"Ok," she murmurs back, smiling into another tender kiss as you do as you said, letting her control the way her lips move against yours, slowly building the hunger back up.

"Tell me what you want," you sigh out against her lips, feeling her hips subtly rock against your lap without her even realising it, your teeth softly nipping at her lower lip, earning a small moan as she flutters her eyes back open, meeting your patient gaze.

"I want...I just want you," she whispers, holding the intimate gaze before leaning back in, kissing you with a new sense of urgency, a small moan leaving you at her words. Your lips pull into a small smile as she slides her tongue hesitantly into your mouth, the kiss turning messy and causing a wave of arousal to flood through, Wanda's mind spinning at the intoxicating way you make her feel.

"You have me," your tone laced with love as she rests her forehead against yours, lips lingering open against one another, simply relishing in the intimacy. "Show me what you want from me," you encourage, sliding your hands from around her lower back to hers, letting her take a hold of your hands to guide them where she wants them, your lips parting from hers to pepper kisses along her jaw softly, her head lolling to the side to welcome your addictive touch.

She simply holds your hands for a moment, deciding what she wants from you, her mind freezing momentarily at the way your teeth scrape against her sensitive skin, a pleasant shiver running down her back as she curses lowly in Sokovian, the sultry sound causing a throb between your thighs.

When she's ready, she squeezes your hands softly, guiding them down her body to the hem of her sweater, hoping you understand her silent request. Your fingers slide under tentatively, feeling the way her stomach tenses and relaxes at your touch, the skin impossibly soft and enticing, your mind reminding you to wait for her as you caress the skin you can reach.

"Please," she murmurs out, one of her hands moving to your hair, threading her fingers through your silky locks and softly pulling you away from her neck, her lips pressing to yours with a hint of desperation as she grinds her hips with a little more purpose now, a wave of pleasure coursing through her.

"Off?" you mutter against her lips questioningly, her nodding into a sensual kiss as your lips meet gently, her sighing into your mouth as your hands grip the hem of her sweater, slowly, teasingly, pulling it off her body.

Her hands move off you to help you pull the item of clothing off, your gaze remaining on her face as she turns shy again, waiting for another nod before letting your gaze drift down her body, your breath hitching at her sheer beauty.

Her body is sculpted to perfection, crafted by Aphrodite herself to create the most beautiful woman you'd ever lay your eyes on, her delicate and smooth skin enticing your eyes all over her exposed body, her curves luring your hands to caress them softly, eyes flickering back up to hers, nothing but admiration and love in them.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" you whisper into a passionate kiss, her nerves immediately dissipating at the sheer honesty lacing your tone, another blush creeping onto her face at how amazed you were by her. "Any idea what you do to me?" you continue, wrapping your arms around her body and pulling her closer to hers, her bra covered chest flush against your body as she moans into your mouth, her body begging for more, needing you to touch her lower.

"Please Y/n," she sighs into your mouth, your hands creeping up her body and resting just under her bra, fingers brushing over the skin, causing goosebumps to rise. "I need you," her tone conveying how desperate she was, your worshipping touch only driving her towards madness, her body viewing them as teasing.

"Where do you need me, love?" the endearment spilling from your lips naturally, a wave of arousal flowing through her at your slightly husky voice, your lips parting from hers once more to kiss down her neck, sucking partly before moving to kiss her shoulder and collarbones, waiting for an answer.

"Here," she sighs out softly, her fingers wrapping around one of your wrists and guiding it down to meet the waistband of her pyjama pants, your head instantly leaving her body to look at her properly, the green in her eyes usually filled with love completely replaced by desire and hunger.

"Are you sure?" Your voice is full of care as your hand remains where she guided you, gazing into hers as your heart beats wildly in your chest, still stunned a little by the sight of her on top of you, the heat between your thighs incessant.

"Yes," her voice a mere whisper as she kisses you softly, deciding she wouldn't want anyone else to be her first, always having loved you without even realising it.

"Remember we can stop whenever you need to," you murmur before claiming her lips with a newfound purpose, wanting to give her everything she wants, fingers carefully sliding under her waistband.

"Fuck," she whispers out, voice a little shaky as her hands move to your back once again, clutching onto your t-shirt as your fingers brush against her core through her soaked panties, a groan leaving you at how wet she was for you. She was this desperate for you.

You move the pad of your finger against the wet fabric, teasingly sliding it up and down her core, earning a small, desperate moan from her into your mouth, her teeth biting down on your lower lip impatiently as you continue to work her body up, her hips bucking against your hand at the slightest of touches.

"Can I-"

"Please," she practically whimpers out, your lips tugging up into a smirk whilst your free hand glides up and down her back soothingly, your fingers slowly sliding under the waistband of her panties, a sensual sigh escaping her when you finally make contact with her core. "Detka," she pants out against your lips as you swallow the desperate noises that leave her lips as your finger swipes through the abundance of arousal that's pooled between her thighs, coating your digit as you explore her wet sex.

Pulling back from the kiss, your eyes observe every single reaction to your touch she offered you, drinking it up like an intoxicating substance as your finger spreads her slick around her, moving to circle her clit gently to begin with, slowly building in confidence as your touch grows firmer, intending to bring her as much as possible.

"You're so pretty like this," you mumble, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, teeth scraping the soft skin again to drive her mad, your finger sliding up and down her soaking folds before settling on teasing her entrance, a whine leaving her at your enamoured tone and taunting actions.

"Detka," she sighs out, tone conveying the sheer desperation she feels for you, needing you to bring her towards her release, her body needing your touch to satisfy her.

"Shhh, I'll take care of you," you murmur, tilting your head away from her neck to let your lips brush against her compelling ones, her breath fanning across your face as her lips part, your finger slowly sliding into her, your eyes in awe of her blissed out expression. "Tell me what feels good," you encourage, slowly curling your finger inside her beautifully, a moan spilling from her lips directly into your mouth as you claim her lips softly, slowly letting your lips slot over hers, her mind hazy with all the pleasure and heat flowing through her.

"Shit, there, right there," she groans as you curl your finger against her weak spot, the palm of your hand brushing against her clit as she rocks her hips against you, fingers gripping your shirt tightly.

"Yeah?" you husk out and the slight cockiness to your tone has her mind spinning even more with arousal, delirium taking over her as she moans against you once more, your name falling from her lips like a small chant as you thrust your finger in her a little faster, pleasure bubbling through her. "What if I do this?" your voice a teasing whisper, your thumb moving to brush over her clit, a choked moan escaping her as you move it in languid circles, doubling the pleasure fogging her mind.

"Y/n," she pants against you, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smirk at her desperate tone, the way her walls clench and spasm around you, her thighs tensing around your body as her hips buck harder when you time your movements right, a sudden wave of pleasure flowing through her. "Fuck," she sighs out sensually, parting your mouths as she's struggling to reciprocate the kiss, too busy focussing on the way you effortlessly slide in another finger, stretching her out perfectly.

"You're doing so well for me," you whisper, mouth moving to the shell of her ear and tone dropping, a slight rasp added to your voice further arouse her. One of her hands shoot up into your hair, messily tangling it into your locks as moans escape her, her hips trying to move a little faster and push her towards her nearing release, fingers gripping tightly making a dull pain wash over you, the action making you groan as the idea of how lost in pleasure she must be goes straight between your thighs.

"Detka," she sighs out, desperation and a hint of embarrassment lacing her tone, too nervous to ask you for what she wants as her hips indicate how close she is, your fingers still steadily thrusting into her and thumb occasionally brushing her clit, hips bucking harder against you. You immediately understand what she's asking for as she gently tugs your head back, lips pressing against yours passionately as she holds you close, back arching further into your body as she sighs into your mouth, a small whine escaping her as she teeters on the edge of her release.

"I've got you," you murmur gently, your free hand moving up her body and to her face, cupping her cheek intimately and deepening the kiss, a moan leaving her at the sheer amount of love you pour into the embrace. "Let go for me," you mumble between kisses, her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure threatens to take over her.

"Y/n," she whispers out sinfully for a final time, body tensing against yours while your mouths refuse to part, muffling the desperate sounds leaving her lips while pleasure wracks through her body. Her legs tense around your body once more, her hands adamant on keeping you close as she keeps your head against hers, foreheads resting against one another as you slow the kisses down, pecking her lips in between laboured breaths. Your fingers slowed inside her, letting her walls clench and spasm around you as she rode out the last waves of her release, her body eventually relaxing in your lap and melting against your comforting body.

Your gentle breath caressed her lips as she eventually opened your eyes, timidly smiling at you and claiming your lips once more in an innocent manner, her adorable expression causing you to reciprocate the action as your free hand moves to glide up and down her back soothingly, fingers pulling out of her when she was ready.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper with nothing but honesty and care in your words, her cheeks blushing at the way you tenderly gaze at her, her fingers moving to fix your ruffled hair. She smiles at you softly as she tucks a few strands behind your ear, your lips meeting her cheek lovingly as she just wants to bask in the intimate moment for a little longer, the two of you simply locked in a lovers embrace as your arm snakes around her middle.

Many soft words and gentle whispers later, you had managed to convince her into going to the bathroom to get cleaned up, not wanting her to be uncomfortable later and also wash your hands quickly, the brunette blushing at the cocky smirk on your lips as she watches you, proud of yourself for being able to make her feel good and most importantly loved and safe. You let her find herself a new pair of underwear and some new pyjama pants, opting for the pair she first came to you in before searching for a new shirt to wear.

Once she had opted for an old shirt with her favourite sitcom on it, you offered her your hoodie you took off earlier, the jumper being an oversized fit which you knew she loved, Wanda taking it with a wide smile, unable to stop the butterflies in her stomach at how caring you were. She let her nose rest against the collar of it, able to smell your perfume on it as you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind, dramatically falling onto the bed with her in your arms, eliciting an even bigger smile from her and a nose scrunch.

She turned around in your arms so she was facing you as you pulled her body impossibly closer, smiling fondly at the sight of her in your clothes, her leg sliding in between yours to find a more comfortable position to cuddle in as your fingers drew idle patterns against her back.

"Thank you for being so gentle," she whispers a little shyly, your gaze softening more somehow as she moves her fingers to play with the baby hairs at the back of your neck.

"I'll always be gentle with you," you murmur, kissing her temple and letting your lips linger for a minute, building the courage to say what you wanted to. "Thank you for the last week, I've really enjoyed spending time with you," you say, still trying to get to the three words you wanted to confess, her smile growing a little wider at your soft tone.

"Have I convinced you to love Christmas?" she asks curiously, the intimate gaze prolonged as you once again get lost in her eyes, smiling tenderly at her, thinking of how to phrase your words.

"I don't quite love Christmas yet," you whisper out, your words still giving her hope. "But, I...I know I love you," you confess, your heart beating wildly in your chest for the few seconds she doesn't reply, the way her nose scrunches once again in that adorable manner easing the worry of rejection.

"I love you too," she whispers back with fondness lacing her tone, her lips meeting yours once again for an intimate kiss as you can't help but grin into the kiss, a teasing comment finding its way to your lips.

"More than Christmas?" you whisper, earning a soft laugh from her as she moves her face to hide at the crook of your neck, your skin so warm and comfortable, lulling her into a relaxed state.

"More than Christmas," she chuckles out, wrapping her arms around your middle securely, your arms mirroring the action as your lips press a final kiss to the top of her head, the witch amazed at how you, a grinch, managed to steal her heart.

#marvel fanfiction #wanda x reader #eventual smut #wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #mommy wanda #wanda x you #smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #12 days of kinkmas #kinkmas #fluff and humor #fluff and romance #12 days of christmas #12 days of ficmas #12 days of smutmas

1K notes · View notes

nana-luvy · 23 days ago

Text

. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 / 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 .

warnings: fluff, female!reader, cocky!Luke, daughter of Hecate!reader, short mention of telekinesis (if you're not too ok with magic), double pov, use of Y/n, foul language (kinda casual swear words but still, if you don't like em..)

In which they try to find their way to the other.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

__ His type __

It hadn’t been eventful at camp in a couple years, probably since you had come to camp. You‘d never gotten sent on a quest, as much as you would’ve loved to finally go back to the rest of the world, you had never been involved in big drama around camp, had never had your life at risk from a surprise attack in the woods and had barely even been the target of a silly prank.

Your life for the past years had mostly consisted of training, eating, sleeping and praying at the most, maybe you had squealed once in excitement the day you discovered who your godly parent was, but that was it. Over the time you’d started making friends, seeing as you barely had any half-siblings, going out with people from other cabins more than from the one you lived in, the Hermes cabin. Because, apparently, you did not deserve a half-family cabin if you weren’t child of one of the major deities. Harsh.

But over the course of the past few months, you had surprised yourself being more… full of emotions that before, and all because of a silly reason. Blame it on late blooming of teenage hormones, but you were by now knees deep in a one sided crush on Luke Castellan, a crush you considered profoundly stupid when he had basically everything to himself and could just attract anyone he’d want. You had started noticing him only recently, after years of being acquaintances ; you’d first met him a few days after reaching camp, when he apparently came back from a quest, just a 16 years old teenager, short messy brown hair and almost-chubby face in comparison to the present.

But now…. you could spend tens of minutes speaking of him, even if you would afterwards brush it off as mere observance, speaking of his looks, his personality, his habits... How he had grown taller over the span of barely a trimester, how his curl started looking so defined and shiny when he had finally started taking care of his hair after you’d spent a whole 10 minutes, at a party on the beach, dissing it. How he had this determination to him whenever he did something, like he would solely focus on it just to succeed, how he took care of the newcomers ever since he got promoted to head counselor of his cabin, making sure they had everything and didn’t feel the tiniest bit alone, even going out of his way to ensure they were comfortable after the never-ending stress that was their trip to camp. How, even through his practiced mask of kindness and laid-back attitude, he had this small tick on his face and this tilt of his head when he was annoyed, how he would always rub right over his scar first when he defeated someone during sword training…

Clarisse and Silena always made fun of you whenever you would bring Luke up, knowing they were in for a ride because it was more often than not a flow of words they couldn’t stop until it did on its own.

And it was the case just this instant.

“Argh, why do I even like guys, huh ? That’s fucking bland, I swear…” you said, throwing your arms in the air in defeat.

You were all sat at a small table, no too far from the training grounds but just a little away from the path that went towards it, so there was just a little privacy. The sun was high up in the sky and you four girls, Annabeth having joined the group after lunch, were thankful for the shadow cast upon you by the large tree above the table.

“I mean, yeah, it is, but I can’t throw the first stone at you on that one..” Selina answered, shaking her head with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“And are you reaaaally that disappointed by men, huh ? Because, weirdly, something tells me otherwise, girl.” Clarisse chimed in as she put her card down and cheered a little, playing War against an Annabeth who looked clearly exasperated by her own lack of luck. “Something with curly hair and a flirty smile.”

“Ugh, don’t even start me on him…” you replied, running your hands on your face in exaggerated frustration. “I swear, he’s so.. ugh.. Like, sure, you know, he’s cute, and he’s tall and stuff, but it’s such a pain to have a crush on a boy, you get me ? And even more when the boy knows he’s good looking and plays along. Would be so much easier with a gir-”

“Not much easier with a girl.”

“Sure, Clarisse, sure, whatever you say like you have experience.” you replied, nodding your head at her like you’d do to a child while Clarisse held back from saying something else. “I just mean, guys just feel so simple-headed but- I don’t know…”

“You do know.” Annabeth only replied in a knowing tone, not tearing her eyes from the game she was loosing against Clarisse.

“Okay yeah, I do know. It’s just- He’s so infuriating! Like-” you caught a rustle in a bush nearby on your side, head snapping towards it, but came back to the conversation when you saw nothing. “-what do you mean you flirt with every single person, you know ? I don’t mean it like I’m jealous, by the way, it’s just really misleading.” The three other girls looked between themselves with a similar, shared gaze. “It’s not even like he seems to have a type, like- bro just picks up another girl at a party, they chat or a few days and sometimes she just disappears from around him like their link never existed. What a fucking jerk…”

You mumbled the last part, furrowing your brows because it didn’t feel fair sometimes, for your heart to tug when you were thinking of someone you found so… terribly not crush material. Not that he wasn’t, but you preferred lying to yourself on the matter, enjoying the feeling of being even the littlest in control over that particular emotion that just acted on its own.

“Except he has a type- Clarisse I swear to gods, you have to be cheating ! How else do you win a war game 5 times in a row ?”

“I don’t cheat, mini-girl, it’s called talent ~” Clarisse cheered, throwing her cards in the air in victory. “And as we bet, loser cleans up, thank you in advance.”

As Annabeth sighed in defeat, crouching to pick up the cards that had slipped right under the table, you spoke up again, continuing your little dragon origami. “What do you mean he has a type ? I mean, he just seems to flirt with whatever walks his way in the slightest.”

“She’s just jealous that he doesn’t flirt with her when she walks his way.” Silena whisper-yelled at the two others, poorly hiding it behind her hand in mock confession.

“Si ? Shut up, I love you.” You did a small heart gesture your friend’s way, both apologetic and purely sarcastic.

“No I mean, I know he kinda has someone in mind, you know ? I don’t even remember when he told me that…” Except she totally remembered. Annabeth had really, really wanted it to come around naturally, but she was growing tired of the unspoken situation and the relentless talks about it.

“What- how come you never told me ? Annabeth, I plead you, give me your in-tells and I’ll give you my desserts for a whole month. During every meal. Just tell me what's his type.”

“But I can get as many as I want already, technically.”

“Then I’ll get up and go get them for you. Please.”

The younger girl raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat interested by the proposition, before letting out a sigh. “Fine, as you want, I’ll tell you what I know.”

“”Beth ? I love you too.” you said in your most serious tone.

The younger stayed silent for a little while, before parting her lips again. “Wow. You’re really love-bombing us today, huh ? Anyway, his type…” Annabeth tried her best to look like she was thinking back to find the memory, when she just had to look at the girl in front of her to find a perfect description. “He’s into girls around his age, mostly, or just barely younger, someone who doesn’t dislike fighting and even likes to put up a fight in general when she doesn’t get what she wants, dare I say kind of a lunatic-”

“Wait, what ? He’s into spoiled princesses or..?” Clarisse said, cutting Annabeth off, but it only made the latter let out a chocked out snort.

“I mean, if you say it.”

“Is there more ?” you pressed eagerly, almost gripping the side of the table without realizing.

The younger girl looked at you with raised eyebrows, but chose not to call out the obvious. “Well… he likes someone slightly crazy but still pretty nice-”

”You’re literally describing half the girls at camp.”

“Oh my gods! That’s it, I’m not helping you out. You can find out yourself if your crush likes you, girl.” she replied, trying to sound annoyed when she was totally amused by the situation. But for the sake of her sanity and her friend’s, she had to act. So she gathered the cards, threw them in her pocket, and bid her goodbyes. “See you around, and no ‘him talk’, I can’t take it anymore!”

You sat dumbfounded for a second, before looking to the two other girls who already stared at you, putting your hands up in surrender. “Yeah, alright, alright, I’ll stop…” you said, pushing yourself off the table’s bench. “See you later ?”

“See ya ~”

But the next days felt even more boring than usual, nothing happening that was out of the ordinary, so you had to entertain yourself a little. Searching for something to do while finally cleaning your bunk, which you had been meaning to do for ages, an idea popped in your mind: how about investigating to find your crush’s crush ? What could be healthier ?

You’d heard from someone who probably had heard from someone before that Luke was calmer these past few weeks, showing way less of his usual ‘flirty jock’ behavior, and many were suspecting a possible someone had been the cause. So you were decided to find out who the ‘possible someone’ was, because after all you had already come to terms with how your hopeless one-sided crush would never have a proper conclusion, and maybe this would be a way to finally get your closure.

So, pink ink pen and black notepad in hand, you went back outside to take a seat under a tree in the Cabin area, seeing campers walk around in the already hot morning, some going to the training grounds, a few Apollo kids busy with stocking back the inventory of the infirmary, a handful of demigods with their bathing suit under their camp-issued orange shirts and towels in a bag. Sitting comfortably on the soft grass, you wrote down everything Annabeth had told you the day prior, trying your best to remember her words.

“His age or a little younger, likes fighting.. stubborn, a little crazy… a girl..” you mumbled to yourself, writing it all in the bright pink ink you adored.

“Hey, Y/n! You coming to the lake with us ? Clarisse says the water is extra warm!” Chris invited, walking close to you as he got out of his cabin, a tube of sunscreen in hand. As he got closer, his eyes tried to look at the notepad before you hurriedly closed it. “What you doing ?”

“Hey- oh uh, nothing just… drawing.”

“You draw ? Since when ?” the boy continued, confused. He had known you for years now, he didn’t remember seeing you draw, you just weren’t really artsy.

“Well, since today, that’s the thing. So I’d prefer you don’t see my drawings okay ? I don’t…yeah.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I get it, totally.” Chris replied, shaking his head slowly. “Do you want to come with us to Canoe Lake though ? Clarisse and Silena are already there, and some others should be joining soon.”

The idea sounded tempting, but you were getting more and more curious as time passed, and wouldn’t want to delay you little investigation, even for hot, clean, translucent lake water. “Nah, man, sorry I’ll have to pass on that one. Maybe another day though ?”

“Yeah, sure, have a nice…drawing ~”

Chris waved before walking away, leaving you to your own mind again. You scanned over your now open notepad, trying to mentally swipe over all the people that matched the description, and writing the names down. And the names took a whole page, with a title on top of it saying “Castellan, who tf do you like (you have really generic tastes)”.

“Okay, now let’s reread it..”

‘Already dated her… they talked a while but it didn’t last.. oh maybe- no, right, already dated…’ you thought to yourself, trying to ignore the fact you had so little entertainment in life that you relied on Luke to bring the events with his misleadingly numerous relationships rumors.

After a while of crossing names out, mumbling to yourself in the shadow provided by the tall tree you were hiding under, you decided just theorizing wasn’t enough, you had to see the chemistry first hand to find the missing piece needed to unveil the answer.

So you got up, dusting the grass and dried weeds off your clothes before lightly walking towards the training ground. It felt like the boy spent most of his time there, surrounded by a swarm of little flies he did his best to keep around as he fought with all his might every time they were looking. One of your worst fear was probably to become one of said flies.

You had aimed right as you came around the training area, hearing loud cheering from a group of other girls sitting next to the wooden swords rack, Aphrodite and Apollo daughters, among others, hand in hand to cheer on their number one boy who made his personal crowd roar with a look its way.

You took a seat not too far, under a tree again, well aware that the 11am sun would burn your sensitive skin if you stayed under its rays too long, resting your back against the trunk and trying to examine the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. Luke was fighting with a boy from the Ares Cabin, his name was… Lyle ? He had been at camp for a year or so, not too bad of a fighter of course, but…

The group on the side started to loudly cheer and applause as the curly haired boy tackled his opponent to the ground, the tip of his sword right under his chin in a perfect warrior stance, and even you couldn’t help your gaze from softening in awe : you’d seen him fight and win so many times before, at training, capture the flag, all of those, but there was just something so mesmerizing in the energy he’d put in each combat and the determination in his eyes as he’d let his sword slash through the air.

From your own space, you tried to study all interactions, hoping to get anything that’d help shorten your still very long list of names: who Luke shot his flirty look too, who he’d grace with a word from his lips or a smile, as fake and empty as it may be. But you were totally taken aback when, upon barely waving at the magnificent Drew Tanaka that batted her long lashes at him, the boy started walking right your way, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Y/n, hey ~” he simply started, stopping a couple feet in front of you as you still sat on the dry grass. “What are you doing here ? I figured you’d be at the lake with the others.”

“And I figured you’d be with the others.” you quickly answered, trying to close your notepad as casually and discreetly as possible.

“Yet here you are, staring at me from afar. Who would’ve thought.”

“Yet here you are, speaking to me like this isn’t the most words we’ve ever exchanged when no friends surround us. Who would’ve thought ~” you replied, an angelic smile playing on your her lips in response.

Luke’s smile only stretched more. “Ladies and gentleman, she fights back!” he exclaimed with a laugh, talking to his imaginary crowd before crossing his arms over his chest, flexing the muscles involuntarily like it didn’t have you melting to a puddle right there in front of him. “No but seriously, what are you doing here ? Wanna spare a little ?”

“With you ? To lose with not a single hope to ever win ? No thanks, I’m g-”

“What’s this ?” the boy cut through you sentence, crouching in a second to snatch the notepad that still sat on your crossed legs, flipping through the first pages. “Waw, your commitment to living in pink is insane, hard to believe you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite sometimes.”

You heard him mutter something you couldn’t make out but brushed it off, immediately trying to catch the pages from his hands, only to fall forward on your knees as he got up and took a step back quickly. “Give me the notepad, Castellan!”

“Oh wait- That’s your special pancake recipe? I guess the peanuts really add something huh ?”

“My notepad!”

Definitely not wanting to chase after the child he was acting like, you simply used her telekinesis, the only control you had over your still weak magic granted by your goddess of a mother, sending the notepad flying from Luke’s hands right into yours. You immediately ripped the list from the little book, folding it messily and putting it in your jorts’ back-pocket. “You never act as an adult, do you ?”

“Nahhh, I still have one year of being a teenager, and I sure as Hells will make the best of it.” he said, turning around going back to you in long strides with a pout on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, turning around in direction of the Cabin Area and away from him, though you could hear him try to keep up and a small smile crept up your lips. But the smile turned upside down as the boy almost ran in front of you, raising the paper high so you could see it in his hands while he read. Your eyes widened significantly, patting your back-pockets frantically and realizing he had just swiftly took the page from you, but before you could properly react, he crumpled the paper in a ball and tossed it in his back, colliding with your head.

“You forgot the right name on that list, dumbass.” Luke started, walking away and throwing his hand up in a two-fingered peace sign. “G’luck, moonbeam ~”

After a couple seconds of standing still, dumbfounded, you roared. “Castellan! Come back here!” But the boy only let out a laugh before sprinting away, escaping your reach quickly as you were left panting, laying your back on a Cabin. “When I catch you, Luke…”

Your cheeks were heated now, probably from the running, or that’s what you told yourself, because you couldn’t help but hear it echoing in your ears. ‘Moonbeam… What the actual fuck, Castellan?’ And here you were, back to first ground, trying to convince yourself you could keep your feelings in check.

__ Her type __

The sun had been up for a while now, and Chris was doing his best to get Luke to come out of bed, but nothing would make him budge : every time the guy woke him up, the brunette would only groan, grip his pillow tighter and turn around, immediately going back to sleep.

“Dude, you’re gonna make us miss breakfast.” Chris pressed, whisper-yelling to try and avoid being too harsh, but he was slowly loosing patience.

“Shut up, ‘wanna finish my dream, go eat by yourself…” the other boy mumbled against his sheets, shuffling to get comfortable again.

But it was enough. Chris went to pick up clothes from Luke’s stuff, before throwing them right in his face. “Get out of bed right now, or I’m dunking a bucket of ice cold water on your body.” he deadpanned, and the counselor shot straight out of bed, putting a shirt on and nearly jumping in his pants.

“Ok I’m ready.”

The whole way to the Dining Pavilion, Luke was like a broken record on the verge of getting strangled by his best friend. Birds were chirping in the early morning, chatter noises were coming from further down the path and the sun already felt warm on his skin, but his mind could only think of one thing.

“Man, I can’t believe you just cut me through the best dream ever…”

“Yeah? And what was it about for you to be all whiny about it ?” Chris queried, starting to gain a forced curiosity from his best friend’s rambling.

“Uh… I...don’t remember?” The brunette said, trying to sound convincing and natural, looking straight in front of him, but the slightly unsure tone in his voice betrayed him.

Which caused a fit of laughter from his friend. “Oh-oh, man, were you seriously having a we-”

“No! No of course not! Why would you think that-”

“Yeah, sure, then about what, huh ? Because you seem very guilty of… Man, tell me you didn’t have… a romantic dream?” Chris’ smile only grew more teasing when the other boy’s face visibly heated up, not uttering a word. He put an arm around the flustered boy’s shoulders dramatically. “Well look at that, little Luke Castellan finally growing out of his heartless era ? I thought I wouldn’t live long enough to see it.”

“Awh shut up, bro…” he muttered, tearing his friend off him. “It’s not even that big of a deal…”

“Not that big of a deal? Nah, Luke, be for real. I’ve rarely seen you as… disinterested before. Like- you just wave people away instead of throwing the biggest narcissistic dickhead smile their way. And I mean it in all friendship-ness.”

“Yeah, of course you do, you little-”

“Hey, I have you seen her today? She’s so…”

Both Hermes sons turned their head in direction of a loud voice just a few feet behind them, seeing two guys from the Aphrodite Cabin walk closely behind them, deep in a conversation too.

“Who again ? Oh right, Silena’s friend. That witch girl with the…weird aura.”

Luke frowned. ‘What the hell are they talking about?’

“Yeah, gods, she just has that bod, bro… I mean, I wouldn’t even mind dating her if it means I can get her to give me some of that magic.” one of the two guys said, ending with a proud laugh, full of himself as the other joined. “Plus, I swear, she always wears those short tops and skirts, man, she’s basically asking for it at that point.”

Luke’s fists tightened as he understood who the subject of the conversation was, brows furrowing at the guy’s words, yet he knew he was in no place to say anything. Because he was one of those guys who didn’t give a crap about morals or feelings, one of those who knew the trouble they caused and played along.

He enjoyed it, the attention, having girls fawn over a practiced look, people naturally coming to him because he just had this kind of presence. But now, trying to distance himself from this persona of his, maybe he realized just how awful he might have sounded.

‘You weakling, questioning yourself because of a girl? Dumbass.’ Luke thought to himself, tousling his hair in frustration as he finally entered the dining area. Barely a few months ago, he never would’ve imagined being this kind of guy, the guy who tries to slow down his everyday life to become whatever a girl could like. But again, he knew in himself it wasn’t just any girl, because just any girl wouldn’t haunt his nights so good he’d rather sleep than do anything else.

You were… this whole deal to him: one of the most precious things he could wish to ever see, and still the one thing he rejected all he could. Because part of him was screaming that this was not the kind of guy he was, screaming that settling down at this point in life just wasn’t for him. But over time, the idea just couldn’t stop seeping into his mind, and again, you were just so…

He had first met you when he came back from his failed quest, not at his best in any possible way, when you had barely started your new life, and he just saw a part of himself in you, mirroring this feeling of being…lost. And maybe, just maybe, back then, he lacked the courage to go talk to you when he should have. But years went by, you barely interacted except for extended group hangouts and gatherings, and he forgot along the way. Yet for some reason, you had found a way back in his mind out of nowhere, like a magic so strong even you, daughter of Hecate, couldn’t conjure. It was like meeting you all over again, that one day he saw you out late at the edge of the forest, laying in the grass and watching the moon glow. He started noticing you around more after that, maybe just paying attention more, his eyes drawn to your figure in the crowds, his ears searching for the sound of you voice as you roared and fought on the training grounds during the day.

And after months of going against himself, of denying how he knew deep down he felt, he stopped fighting the feeling. And apparently, everyone around him had noticed and couldn’t stop bothering him with unpleasant questions about why, oh why, he was loosing what they called his ‘player mojo’. But he dismissed it every time, not needing anyone in his business when even him wasn’t able to take care of it.

Luke was playing with a few other guys, on their way to the training grounds while passing a ball between them all, either tossing it gently to the next or full on throwing it over their head. It was more of the second for Luke as Connor threw the ball in his direction, it landing way out of track, near the forest’s edge.

“Man, come on!”

“Hey, you could’ve tried to jump and catch it.” Travis replied with a laugh, elbowing his twin playfully.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…”

Luke wandered off the path, walking behind a row of bushes and crouching down to retrieve the ball that had rolled into them.

“…know, he’s cute, and he’s tall and stuff, but it’s such a pain to have a crush on a boy, you get me ?”

Wait, was that… you ? Luke raised his head over the bushes, forgetting all about the ball for an instant as all he registered was the voice that made his ears perk up every time he heard it. ‘What- what’s she talking about ?’ He searched for the origins of the voices for a second, before his eyes fell on a small picnic table and four girls gathered around it, some playing cards and two others just talking.

“You do know.”

“Ok yeah, I do know. It’s just- He’s so infuriating!”

Luke shifted absentmindedly as he got curious about the conversation for some reason, words echoing in his mind. ‘She likes someone ?’ But as he moved his hand, his fingers slipped over the smooth surface of the ball he hadn’t realized was there, stumbling forward into the leaves of the bush. At least the branches hadn’t scratched his skin.

He heard the girl pause for a second, probably noticing the sudden ruffle in the bushes, and he made sure to duck down as much as possible, before realizing how stupid this could’ve looked : why the Hells would he ever try this much not to be discovered over just a simple conversation between friends of his. But deep down, his mind had his answer: he needed to know more.

“-ot even like he seems to have a type, like- bro just picks up another girl at a party, they chat or a few days and sometimes she just disappears from around him like their link never existed. What a fucking jerk…”

Who was that guy? Because Luke was really starting to think that you hated your crush more than you liked him, seeing how harsh your words sounded spoken with this tone of hers. But really, what kind of jerk would that be, going around and making head spins like and leaving like it was nothing? Talk about playboy move… Who was it, really? No name had been spoken, barely a physical description… The brunette was already trying to go through all people he knew at camp that might fit the description, but-

“Luke, what the fuck are you doing ? We’ve been waiting for you forever..”

Luke snapped back to reality as Travis came up to him, his look questioning.

“Oh yeah, shoot, sorry. I couldn’t find the ball and then I just, tripped on my own leg. And here I am.” he replied, but his friend only looked at him more confused.

“Ok, whatever. Let’s just go back okay ? Because today is the day I beat your ass!”

“You wish you ever could ~”

They walked back to the rest of the small group, resuming the tossing with not much further question, before Luke spoke up.

“How much do you guys know about Y/n?”

There was a short silence, Chris keeping the ball tight between his hands as they all came to a stop, and Charles spoke first the words everyone thought.

“No fucking way. Y/n ? As in our cabin’s Y/n ? As in daughter of Hecate Y/n ?”

“Uh… Yeah? Are there other Y/n…?” Luke simply answered, not quite understanding the shock that covered his friends’ faces.

“There was another one a year ago. One you dated, by the way, you jock.” Chris threw back with a smirk. “But damn, little Y/n huh ?”

Luke mentally face palmed at the first statement. “I don’t know if I’d say little considering she’s older than you but uh- why are you so…”he started, gesturing to the surprised faces in front of him, “-expressive, all of you ? I mean, I just asked how well you knew her, I think..?”

Connor slapped his brother’s shoulder with a grin on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes. “Told ya it wasn’t an Aphrodite girl, bro!”

“Yeah, yeah, so much fuss over so little…” the other twin groaned.

As the other guys exchanged knowing looks and laughs, Luke was just standing there, confused about the whole situation. “What is happening, exactly ? I’m starting to feel a little excluded here.”

It was Charles that spoke up again. “We just can’t believe you finally admitted who you’ve been liking so much that you got off the market, bro.” The boy came closer, putting his arm over Luke’s shoulders and squeezing his arm playfully. “So, her, huh ? I mean, yeah i get it, she’s kinda-”

“Don’t finish that sentence or you’ll have to build yourself a new tongue.”

The others erupted in laughter at Luke’s threat, patting him on the back as the brunette held his face down in embarrassment, because it probably was the first time his friends could tease him on the subject, and they were catching up on all the missed opportunities.

“Would you look at that? Luke so into a girl he looses his mojo, who would’ve thought ~”

“You know what, guys ? He even stays in bed an skips breakfast just so he can dream about her for lo-” Chris started, his friend quickly shutting him up with a hand over his mouth, a reaction that only caused more laughter.

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

They were almost to the training grounds, the teasing had died down just a little bit, when Luke asked his first question again, this time the others only throwing amused looks before answering.

“Hmmm I don’t really talk to her much, y’know? I just see her around from time to time. Isn’t she lesbian though ?”

“Wha- No!” the brunette replied instantly, somewhat offended. “I’m not that stupid, thank you. At least from what I heard, she’s into a boy, so-”

“Oh so she’s into someone already ? Who ?” Chris chimed in from behind his back.

“I don’t know, I didn’t heard any name, just some tall dude that sounds like a total jerk…” Luke mumbled.

“Sounds like you to me.”

“Get back here you little-” He said, turning around to try and catch a running Chris shielding himself behind Connor. “I don’t even know why I’m asking you all, it’s not like you have anything interesting to say anyway.. Let’s just get to practice, I’m getting frustrated with all of this.” Luke continued in mock bitterness, sending them an amused smile.

Travis bolted in direction of the training grounds just ahead of them. “Race ya!”

“Morning, bro.” Chris greeted with a quick fist bump. “You doing something this morning?”

“Hmmm I got a practice this morning, and a short teaching session for some newcomers. Why ?” his friend answered, putting on his orange t-shirt.

“Ah sheep, I was gonna tell you some of us were planning on spending the morning at the lake, they say the water is particularly warm this morning. And I thought you could’ve asked you-know-who to come too, to…y’know...”

“Ha ha, you’re so fun Chris, but I’m not gonna ditch helpless kids, sorry. Also, since when do actually you censor yourself ?” Luke asked, weirded out by this change in character as he put his shoes back on.

“Well, I too am on a path to redemption, at my own level.”

The brunette let out a scoff. “Yeah, sure. See ya.”

Luke spent the next few hours on the training grounds, slashing at practice dummies in wood and straw with his dominant arm, trying to reproduce the same moves with the other and building his technique like he did almost everyday. He found a sparring partner in a younger boy, Lyle, son of Ares and at camp since barely a year but who’s blood made him a worthy opponent. Maybe not worthy enough to take Luke’s title as camp’s best swordsman nonetheless.

The Ares boy relied on brute force against the other fighter, who knew exactly how to use it against him, nimbly sliding in his back an hitting the back of his knees when Lyle lunged forward, too late to reach Luke. Falling on his knees, the brunette was quick to go back in front of him, pointing the tip of his sword right under his chin, declaring his undisputed victory while he could hear a loud clamor of shouts and applause roaring in his back. Luke extended his hand for his partner to take, offering to help him up.

“Oh shoot, who’s this ?” Lyle said in a hushed tone, speaking to Luke while he looked behind his shoulder. The curly haired boy followed his gaze, confused, before his eyes fell on your figure. You were under a tree, looking away from him and towards the small crowd on his side, the light filtering through the leaves and hitting your face like a perfect halo, enhancing your features in a way that looked surreal. “She’s ho-”

Luke instantly let go of his hand, letting the Ares boy fall back to the ground and looking down at him while he groaned in discomfort. “Yeah no, forget about her, pretty boy. She’s way out of your league.”

The blond scoffed at the advice. “And what, she’s in yours ?”

“Yeah, nice joke, Lyle, like I could ever try to compare..”

Turning his back on Lyle, Luke went towards the small wooden bench, going to dab himself with a small towel and drinking down almost all the content in his water bottle. Resting for just a second, head hanging low and elbows on his thighs, he raised his gaze just enough so he could see you, still under that tree that shielded your skin from the angry rays of the summer sun, writing away on a small black notepad. What could you be doing, ther-

“Hey ~”

Luke snapped his head up, seeing Drew standing just a few feet from him, fluttering her long lashes his way. He thought he could decipher her intentions, but if it would’ve worked just a few weeks ago, now he didn’t have any interest in whatever she could try to talk him into. So he lifted himself off the bench, barely sparring her a glance.

“Hey.” he dryly said, paired with a small wave, before starting to walk towards the tree, and more precisely the girl seated right under it. This time when he spoke up, his tone was warm, light-hearted when he said,

“Y/n, hey ~”

Luke almost jogged the last few meters, wanting to close the distance between you two quickly, before stopping a few feet away. After somewhat coming to terms with what he felt, it was almost a little weird to be close to you like that : the small fluttering in his stomach, his heart rate quickening, the warmth that was spreading through his body and plastered a smile on his face ; they were all signs so foreign to him.

“What are you doing here ? I figured you’d be at the lake with the others.”

“And I figured you’d be with the others.” you replied quickly, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see you close the notepad discreetly, your fingers seeming somewhat trembling over the cover as you nervously played with a pink pen with the other hand.

“Yet here you are, staring at me from afar. Who would’ve thought.” Luke’s eyes slightly narrowed as he joked back, subtly testing the waters to see how willing you might be to keep the conversation going, given how rarely you talked in settings like this, just the two of you.

“Yet here you are, speaking to me like this isn’t the most words we’ve ever exchanged when no friends surround us. Who would’ve thought ~” you said, and your smile, as sarcastic as it must’ve been, had Luke’s legs feel like jello all of a sudden.

His grin only widened, corners flipped up and almost displaying his pearly teeth before exclaiming, “Ladies and gentleman, she fights back!”, a laugh accompanying his statement as he threw his arms in the air theatrically. A little chuckle escaped your lips, one he could only choose to take as an invitation to more conversation, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No but seriously, what are you doing here ? Wanna spare a little ?” he continued with a more cheeky expression.

You cocked an eyebrow up, as if you were the utmost offended by the proposition, both pointer fingers coming to point at the boy in front of you. “With you ? To lose with not a single hope to ever win ? No thanks, I’m g-”

Luke took advantage of your little loss of focus to crouch down to your level and snatch the notepad from your lap, your face instantly displaying shock and.. a little look of mortification. “What’s this ? Waw, your commitment to living in pink is insane, hard to believe you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite sometimes.” he added with a little laugh as he skipped through the pages, seeing the pink scribbles and doodles adorning the pages in multiple shades. “One of the things that make me believe you are..” he mumbled, his eyes widening a little when he realized he’d said it out-loud, but you probably hadn’t heard or understood it as you didn’t bring it up.

He stood up and took a step back just before you lunged his way to reach for your belonging. “Give me the notepad, Castellan!”

But he was having too much fun, teasing you a way he wouldn’t usually try to, flipping through the pages while walking away and seeing you glowering at him in a mix of exasperation and indignation. But it was his time to be surprised when the notepad flew from his hands back to yours. ‘Right, Hecate’s kid, always so full of surprises…’

“You never act as an adult, do you ?” you asked rhetorically and Luke turned around, walking back to you with a pouty smile dancing on his mouth, seeing you slip a small piece of paper in the back-pocket of your bottoms.

“Nahhh, I still have one year of being a teenager, and I sure as Hells will make the best of it.” Luke only replied with a proud expression, faking a small bow and he couldn’t hold in a chuckle as he saw you roll your eyes. But as you started walking away, he caught up to you discreetly, nimbly getting the paper sticking out of your back-pocket before he rushed past you, starting to read the page while holding it up in the air for you to see.

But his mischievous smile faltered slightly when he read the content of the paper : “Castellan, who tf do you like (you have really generic tastes)”.

First pang to the heart, he did not have generic taste, unless you considered a witty, sweet, hard-headed, mesmerizing and all-roundly skilled demi-goddess to be generic. Second pang to the heart, all the names listed down, some crossed out, some circled to stand out… was this how you saw him ? They were all girls about his age, the removed names the ones of some he had a fling of some sort with, the names standing out being those of girls like Piper or Drew, the ones that caught most eyes at camp. But not his, not anymore, and he couldn’t see the one right name anywhere on the paper.

So he crumpled the small sheet, tossing it behind him and almost bursting out in laughter as he heard a small ‘ouch’ behind him, probably hitting you right in the face. “You forgot the right name on that list, dumbass.” Luke started, doing a peace gesture above his shoulder. “G’luck, moonbeam ~” he only said, the nickname rolling off his tongue like he’d used it all his life.

And as he heard you yell behind him, the boy quickly turned towards the cabins, hiding on the side of the Athena one. He finally let out the nervous laugh he was holding, relaxing against the cabin and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the unlikeliness of the situation. He, Luke Castellan, liked a girl he didn’t even talk to on a daily basis, with whom he was barely friends if not for their mutual ones, and that probably considered him the most obnoxious jock she knew. And just a few weeks ago, you would’ve been right to see him as such, but now that he was trying to redeem himself, a little for himself and a little for you too, he was catching you almost investigating his nonexistent love life, while putting aside any possibility of you being in the equation. How was he supposed to interpret all that ? The Gods’ design was indeed one you couldn’t predict.

“What are you laughing at like a manic ?”

The boy almost jumped in surprise, Annabeth appearing just like magic next to him, before letting out a loud exhale. “Wow, hello to you too…” he replied, dismissive.

But she appeared totally unfazed, crossing her arms over her chest in a knowing stance, like she could read all over his face what was going on in his mind when even him had a hard time deciphering his thoughts. “What’s so funny I can hear you laughing from inside the cabin? I swear it better be worth stopping me from my reading.”

“I- nothing’s funny, I’m just.. trying out laugh therapy, you know ? Stress reliever and all…” His words and his wonky smile only earned him a raised eyebrow from the younger. “Okay, what? What do you want me to say ?”

“The truth, that’d actually be pretty great.”

“The truth ? Well the truth is… I don’t even know. I told you about… you-know-who, right ?”

“Extensively, yeah.”

Luke marked a pause before continuing, throwing Annabeth an annoyed glare she chose to ignore, for his sake. “Well, I don’t know how and why, but apparently she heard that I… was interested in someone..”

“Understatement of the century.”

He did a short pause again, marking his growing frustration known. “Anyways, the problem is that now she’s literally playing Sherlock Holmes on me, Annabeth. And she’s gonna find out at some point, you know how smart she is. And then I’ll be the idiot who, out of all his very broad possibilities, likes a girl who doesn’t like him back.” As he spoke, he took his head in his hands, massaging his temples: the mere idea of this situation happening was giving him a headache, and for too much reasons.

“Ok, so, that’s very narcissistic-”

“Or does she like me? Is that why she’s writing a list? Maybe that’s the reason, yeah.. Maybe she’s trying to figure out if she has a shot.. But then why would she talk about this other guy, it doesn’t make sense-” Head low, deep in thought, Luke saw from the corner of his eyes the girl’s foot tapping on the ground, sign of her growing boredom, and he stopped his unintelligible muttering. “Annabeth do you know anything? I mean, you guys are like, really close friends, right? She talks to you about those stuff, you must know something.”

The girl scoffed, throwing her long braids over her shoulder with sass before looking up straight into Luke’s eyes, challenging him with a single gaze. “I know that you better shut up before I put my cap on and literally disappear from this conversation.” she started, getting her blue cap from her jeans’ back-pocket, dangling it around to show him how serious her threat was. “I also know that even if I knew something, I wouldn’t tell you, because seeing you struggling and at a girl’s beck and call is the gift the gods offered me, today.”

The curly head opened his mouth in disbelief, closing it as he tried to find his words. “Traitor.”

She exaggerated his reaction, openly making fun of Luke, hand hovering over her mouth in mock shock. “But but but- Desperate puppy.” she then deadpanned.

“You’re disloyal.”

“You’re stupid. Bye ~” The girl quickly waved at him, the biggest smile etched on her face, before popping her cap on and disappearing into thin air.

__ His type __

For someone who craved a day just a tad bit more eventful than the usual, now that it unfolded in front of your eyes, you just found it weird, because things just felt…off.

Maybe it was the strong heat that waved over camp since the day before, but you were finding yourself almost unable to sleep, tossing and turning, your thoughts eventually wandering to the same question: who does Luke like? And you didn’t understand why you were suddenly so obsessed with it: were you that bored of your everyday life? or… No, you were over that silly crush, you had come to terms with how it’d inevitably end, so you were obviously just bored and intrigued. But as you thought about it a couple nights in a row, you swore there was a little voice screaming at your inner monologue, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Maybe it was the heat getting to your head, but Annabeth seemed… on edge? Or maybe more mischievous than usual? She whispered with Percy when you passed by, which you clearly noticed after it happened ‘randomly’ more than half a dozen times, but you couldn’t make out any word, and it only made you more curious: why was she throwing you those side glances? What was happening?

Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks, but you could’ve sworn Luke was avoiding you. But the weirdest was that he was also completely not. Because, would it be out on the training grounds or inside the forever packed Hermes Cabin, you sometimes caught him speaking with your siblings, and by the time you got close enough to try and eavesdrop, he’d catch sight of you and flee in a hurry, and you could barely hear a faint ‘Don’t tell’ before he was gone. Sometimes, you’d go to your half-brother, who’d just answer with a small shrug and an ‘I don’t know, he just had a random question’ before throwing you a confused look and dismissing the subject. And at the same time, Luke talked to you way more than usual, it felt completely out of the ordinary: if he was not in an avoidance mood, he’d at least say hi when he was passing by, sometimes even going out of his path to just greet you, asking how you were and biding you a good day before going back to his business.

The problem was now the raging conflict inside of you, parts of yourself knowing it was just friendly, because what else could it be, and parts of yourself gaining too much hope from it, like the situation had changed and your feelings could freely full-power-resurface. But as much as you could usually be in control of your emotions, now the chaos tended to peak out, and you’d have to try not to blush like a 13 years old. Like right now.

You were simply sat at a table outside in a pretty empty area near some strawberry fields, tapping the blunt side of your pink pen against your lower lip, slightly nipping at the cap or drumming your fingers on the length of it, eyes trained to the new list in your notepad —the old one to crumpled and written on to use. But as you racked your brain for something else, you just couldn’t find it, anybody else who could make the list, you didn’t remember who you could’ve forgotten-

“Moonbeam, hey!”

You snapped your head up as you heard someone yell the unique nickname from further, coming from the cabins area towards you, and saw a head of messy curls waving their arm high up before lightly jogging your way. And as much as the more rational part of you tried to scream inside your head, you couldn’t contain a light blush : the faint idea of the boy you hopelessly liked ever running to you, a beaming smile adorning his face, was enough to make your face burn, so to see your daydreaming fantasy happening- you felt lightheaded, weak in the knees, like melting in a puddle.

__ Her type __

The last few days had been unusual for Luke, but not in the worst of ways, he just made everything he could to get used to it, because, as different from his usual self as it was, he felt like he was just in sync with himself and what he actually wanted.

But the problem was that he quickly realized that what he wanted, others wanted too.

“Hey, Cam, wait up!”

Luke jogged to the boy, after just finishing a training session he lead. He wasn’t specifically close to him, having just talked here and there since they were in the same cabin, but he knew him to be a son of Hecate, one of your half-brothers.

“Oh, hi Luke, how you doing ?” Cameron answered after turning around towards the voice, quickly fist bumping the other guy when he came closer.

“Good, I’m fine. I just had a quick question-”

“Sure, shoot.”

“I…” Luke was having a little trouble finding the right sentence, not wanting to appear as completely soft as he had gone, trying to make his intentions a little discreet, but struggling to find words. “How well would you say you know Y/n ?” Let’s just say he mentally face palmed at his words.

Cameron stifled a laugh. “Dude we’re like barely over half a dozen siblings, I would say I know her pretty well. Why ?” He marked a small pause, before saying, “You know your ears are like, bright red, right ?”

“I- no. Shut up.”

“Mmmmh, you’re very convincing.”

“Please don’t tell anyone about anything you might think you know from this conversation. Which won’t be true.” It only earned him a loud fit of laughter from the boy in front of him. “Okay whatever- Do you happen to know.. if she might like someone ? Or maybe her type ? Anything about… this field of information ?”

Cameron tried to contain his amusement, seeing the usual confident and smug Luke being so… caught up in his feels. “Nah man, sorry, I don’t know anything. I mean, I did overhear her talking about some dude but it was like, 3 months ago, easy, so not sure.”

“Really? Nothing else you might have he-” Luke cut himself short when catching the annoyed cocked brow facing him. “Yeah, okay, thanks..”

“No problem, but man, between us: I don’t think you’re the only one after her, might wanna hurry.” Cameron replied with a knowing smirk, before waving to someone behind him. “She’s coming this way, just saying.”

“Wha- who- Shit.” The boy slightly panicked, hearing your voice greeting them both, and his legs grew a mind of their own, fleeing the scene before you reached his side and turning a corner to go back to his cabin.

But as he took his post-training shower, Luke couldn’t help but wonder: what should he do? Did he even have a chance? Because, let’s face it, you two had never been more than acquaintances for years, meeting here and there by coincidence because you were following friends, and the idea that you might’ve grown the same feelings in this context was an unreachable fantasy. One he shouldn’t bring himself to hope for, even more now that he realized he might not be the only one wanting to be the one in your thoughts like you wee in his.

And yet…

There was still this spark inside of him, one that made him want to bang his head on the wall of the small shower cubicle from how stupid it made him feel. Because he knew, deep inside, he hoped that he wasn’t the only one who had taken notice so late.

So it’s in the shower, under the cold running water, that he decided that there would be no more mourning what wouldn’t happen, but rather steps in the good direction, your direction: he’d do anything if it could mean a reciprocated spark.

And Luke was a man of his words. To a certain extent. If he quickly left, tail between his legs, each time you approached close enough to hear him talking about you, asking away to anyone you knew who had their chances with you, he stood his own ground when he was the one to instigate the interaction. He greeted you each chance he’d get, going out of his way to have the most trivial conversation about whatever book you were reading he didn’t know a thing about, wishing you a good day out of nowhere or removing a speck of pollen flying in your hair while you talked to him. And his friends teasing him about it was worth any word that would pass your lips for him to hear or the blush that dusted your cheeks when his fingers brushed your skin in the lightest touch.

The brunette parted from his friends, excusing himself for what he had called ‘needed personal time after being too much with you jocks’, and they had inevitably cooed at him, telling him to spend a delightful afternoon in a certain girl’s company. And if his eyes rolled to Mount Olympus back, he couldn’t think of a clever comeback as they were totally right.

He quickly spotted you, sitting not far from the strawberry fields, the smell wafting to his nose — and yet he couldn’t help but compare it to the smell of your hair that filled him every time he passed you by —, and being who he was, he couldn’t help but yell your name from across the clearing, waving his arm in the air as he ran your way.

“Moonbeam, hey!”

Luke couldn’t help the smile that crept up his face as he came closer, seeing a fresh piece of paper covered in pink ink in front of you just before you turned the notepad facing down.

“Well, you’re that much interested, huh ?”

“I- No, I’m just bored, and-”

“And I’m so interesting you couldn’t help but do a deep dive on me ?” Luke cut you off, raising an eyebrow in the most smug demeanor you could witness, a smirk tugging at his lips;

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “And I had so little idea of what to do that I had to take the last thing left in my mind.”

“So I'm on your mind ?”

He knew it was silly, he knew it wasn’t based on anything real, but the flicker of hope was glimmering in his chest. Flirting was second nature to him and, as arrogant as it may sound, he usually didn’t have much response on the other side other than fluttering eyelashes and shy smiles, so he enjoyed this little game. Like a cat and mouse game where you were both battling to be the cat.

“Do you know you’re actually insufferable? Just making sure you’re aware.”

“I think the word you were looking for is charming but it’s alright, we’re all dyslexic around here.”

“That’s not even- whatever.” And right after you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but Luke saw a sparkle light up in them the same instant. “By the way, call me Sherlock, I found it.”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he couldn’t help but throw in a joke to keep the light mood going. “Are you high on strawberry leaves ? What do you mean ?”

“I- unbelievable.” you huffed out, cheeks dusting in pink from confusion-fueled embarrassment. “I mean I know who ‘the fuck’ you like.” you stated, mimicking quotes with your fingers to reference the title of your list. And boy did his face fall.

You didn’t miss the flicker of annoyance that crossed his face, startling you a little: that little twitch on his face with the slight tilt of his head, an expression you’d always found pretty amusing and almost endearing, now seeing it directed your way… it was intimidating. What could’ve caused him to react like that ?

Little did you know, on his end, it wasn’t annoyance, only masked apprehension, fearful apprehension.

Your guts started to twist before Luke’s face relaxed again, and you took in a deep breath.

“Okay, shoot then, I guess…” the boy replied, awkwardly scratching his nape, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes seemed to search yours.

You let a moment of silence pass between the two of you, before scrunching your nose with a smile. “Nah, I lied. But I’m close though, I’m sure!”

There was an awkward instant where he didn’t answer anything, and you thought your enthusiasm might’ve weirded him out, but his face broke in laughter the next, nearly bending in half as you stood there, unable to tell if you should laugh with him or be utterly mortified.

“Wow, Moonbeam… You’re another breed alright!” he exclaimed, simply unable to stop laughing at your reaction, and you swore you could see a glint of something more behind his fluttering lashes. “You really wanna know, don’t you…”

“Well I- I told you, I’m bored and easily entertained…” you replied, red growing on your cheeks as you crossed your arms over your chest in defense.

“That’s really contradictory, moonbeam.”

“I- shut up, I’m tired.” Again with that stupid nickname, so stupid it sent butterflies flying in your stomach —stupid blood capillaries.

Luke only rolled his eyes in response, getting closer to you and going around the table to take a seat in front of you, swiftly snatching the notepad from your loosened grasp.

“Hey-”

“Wow, you’re really off. Guess you’re not as close as you think.” Luke couldn’t help but tease, and you threw him a glare, a mix of frustration, indignation and… maybe even a tinge of desperation. Curiosity might’ve gotten the best of you by now.

“Yeah well, who would’ve thought camp’s perfect jock would actually be hard to understand…” You rolled your eyes, tearing your gaze from his figure as you gave up on trying to conceal the piece of paper.

“Wow, getting the claws out now, are we ?” The boy only spurred you on, loving the feeling of warmth pooling in him each time you looked at him with those fiery eyes he couldn’t believe he’d noticed so late.

“You’re a frustrating person, that’s all… But how am I wrong though ? I’m fully convinced I’ve thought of nearly everyone…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared down at you fidgeting fingers on the table, trying to grasp at anything you could’ve missed.

You couldn’t see it, but the way Luke’s gaze softened was noticeable for anyone that might’ve been around, his eyes almost screaming whatever was going through his head, and Annabeth would’ve smacked the back of his head if she’d seen him, from how much he annoyed her yet said nothing when he was so obvious.

“I mean, it’s impossible I haven’t put your crush’s name on the list at one point, she’s- Or are you bi?”

If he had been drinking, Luke would’ve spat his drink immediately, coughing up a laugh at your question, unable to hide the disbelief that displayed on his face. “W-what ?”

“Yeah nah okay… Or worse, are you into… a minor?”

His laugh only doubled at your statement, properly unable to hold it in as he saw the faux horrified look grow on your face. “Dear gods no! You might not believe me when I say it, but I do still have some morals.” It took him some time to calm down, a tear threatening to fall from his eye from the amusement you brought along with your bluntness. He stopped you before you could say anything more scandalous. “You know what, just hand me your pen.”

You gave him the pen promptly, your hand reacting before you registered the question and you looked at Luke, confused as to what he’d- no way.

On the other side of the table. Luke’s head was ringing, convinced he maybe should’ve thought twice before offering to solve her investigation, his hand shaking as he took the pen between his fingers, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to think of how he could get out of the situation. But maybe it was just time, he just had to come clean, to stop the faint tugging in his chest when he saw you laugh with someone else; to stop the longing he felt when he looked at the moon out the window on sleepless nights, wondering if you were looking too when you weren’t sleeping in your bunk; to stop wondering if you’d ever catch the yearning in his eyes every time he talked to you, never wanting those moments to end.

And maybe to shut up his friends too, just maybe.

He had barely started scribbling before you laughed through the heavy tension as he let out a small ‘Fuck, forgot you actually write in pink’. But your laugh died sharply when he handed you the thin sheet of paper, your hands clutching it like it was your only thread of sanity left, eyes not leaving what he’d wrote. And he’d wrote your name.

“You’re kidding, right ?” you asked in a low whisper, eyes not straying from his messy handwriting decorating the bottom of the piece of paper, your brain almost shutting down on the spot as you read each letter, over and over again.

Luke took a deep breath in, trying to calm the pounding of the blood at his temples, his leg nervously stimming under the table. Why was it suddenly so hard to say words that used to naturally roll of his tongue like a practiced poem ? Why was it making him feel like you held his heart in your hand and could crush it with a few words ?

He let the breath out.

“Do you want to go out with me, moonbeam ?”

His heart rate picked up again —if it was even possible for a heart to beat so quickly— as he saw your expression only grow, eyes widening significantly, your lips parted without a single words going past them, looking so still he even doubt you were breathing. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t panicking him. Him, the one with not a single record of rejection, now fearing for his heart.

“I mean, I don’t want to force anything on you, of course, but… I need you to know, I now I’ve seemed like the most pretentious player, I’ve recently grown a little too aware of it. But I swear, I’m not like that anymore, or at least it’s not what I feel like I am anymore: I’m not here to toy with you, I’m not saying all this just to add a name to this, by the way, ridiculously long list of crossed out names.” Luke said it all in one breath, begrudgingly pointing at the list you clutched so hard it started to wrinkle at the edges, now feeling uneasy as he looked at it.

But what he found the weirdest in this instant was how he wasn’t feeling uneasy when sharing all of this, accepting his previous behavior and how it could’ve ever mislead you, trying to convince not with calculated sweet words but with honest thoughts, for once.

You finally look back at him, staring right in his brown eyes, brows furrowed like you were trying to gauge the trust you could put in his words, and the boy stopped you before you could speak up.

“No, please just- let me finish, I’ll be quick. I promise you, that guy you like? I can be better than him, better for you and better to you than he’d ever be, judging by how you des-”

“What guy ?” you asked, your brows only furrowing further in confusion.

Luke stopped in his tracks, seemingly taken aback by your question, while you looked at him expectantly, head tilted to the side. “Well, the guy you talked about with um…” he started hesitantly, not fond of admitting he had indeed been eavesdropping on you, “…Silena, Clarisse and Annabeth. The..tall jerk?”

“YOU SPIED ON M-” You cut yourself off, closing your eyes and breathing deeply, before shaking your head dismissively, as Luke looked down at his lap, a little guilty. “You know what, we’ll talk about that later. Luke ?” His head shot up to meet your gaze as he heard his name roll off your tongue, humming in response. “You’re the guy.”

Luke’s pupils blew wide at your deadpan, brows raised up and head brought forward like he couldn’t believe his ears. He stayed like that for a lingering second, processing every recollection he had of his eavesdropping to make sense of it all. He mouthed a ‘what’, before apparently snapping out of it. “I’m the tall jerk ?”

“You’re the tall jerk.” You tried to keep your voice steady, the realization of your own confession slowly seeping in your mind.

Chris was right, that little-

“So you like me ? There’s no other guy ?” he pressed, leaning over the table, all apprehension disappearing from his eyes to make room for the blooming sparks of hope, smile stretching over his lips he didn’t even bother to conceal.

Your could now clearly feel your cheeks burning up, the red hue probably visible over your complexion, eyes darting everywhere but the curly haired boy in front of you as you felt at loss for words. “There’s no- I mean, it’s.. I-”

You couldn’t help your eyes from trailing to his lips as you caught a movement, the tip of his tongue barely darting out and leaving his lips parted in a smile, looking so…

You had to break away as Luke swiftly moved off the table, unable to stop himself from smiling profusely after he’d caught your evident gaze, walking around to sit on the edge, right next to you.

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you, before finally speaking up.

“Ok, scratch what I said earlier, that guy you talked about seems absolutely amazing. Real boyfriend material. I could never even dream of being like him. You clearly should date him, I get it.” Your eyes rolled as you slowly understood his little speech, blush still dusting your cheeks as your smile started to match his, lightly biting your lip to hold it. “But oh, wait, what did you say? Is it me?” he asked, feigning innocence and pointing at himself. “I’m the guy? Wow, incredible, so convenient.”

But you could only smile further at his antics, feeling any fear, anticipation, hidden pent up frustration, slowly leaving your body as the boy’s own joy radiated off his, contagious energy that seeped into you.

“So, would you consider going out with a tall jerk ?”

You couldn’t hold a little chuckle. “You’re a dork.”

“Yeah well, would you consider going out with a dorky tall jerk, then ?”

“I don’t just consider, Luke,” you started, a glint of playfulness in your eyes as they bore in his, “I want to.”

You stood up at the same time as one of your hands shot up to grab the collar of his orange shirt, bringing him low enough to press your lips to his in a kiss, surprising, confusing, but oh so cathartic. And for the short moment it lasted, Luke’s hands opening and closing just short of touching you as he didn’t even know what to do anymore, to the both of you it felt like perfection.

But the passion simmered down as you pulled away. “You swear you’re not gonna play me?” you mumbled, both hands gripping the front of his shirt as the bliss started to wear off and you realized how stupid you had to be to fully believe him, given the history.

“I-” Luke let out a deep sigh, hand finally moving to push a stray strand of hair out of your face, and you shivered at the contact of his warm fingers. “I’m gonna do everything I can think off to prove t to you. I’m on a maturing path, if that’s actually an expression.” And his smile grew back as he heard you stifle a laugh, finally looking up at him.

“Can I ask you something then ?”

“Anything.” And boy did he mean it. He probably was even ready to loose a sparring match against you if it would make you beam like you did just moments before.

“Why were you talking to all my siblings ? Everytime I saw you, you just… ran away.”

The boy let out an awkward laugh, scratching his nape as he looked away from your eyes. “Well I… I was asking around if they knew who you might be interested in… Didn’t exactly want you to find out.”

You looked at him in disbelief, happily surprised that he’d actually been through almost the same thing as you. “Wow, dedication, I could never. I only asked Annabeth-”

“Annabeth knew ? And she didn’t tell me ? I feel sooo betrayed!” Luke exclaimed with a laugh, head falling back with his eyes closed as he went through everything that could’ve been simpler had she told him from the start.

“Wait, she knew about you ?” Your face displayed a matching shock now. “And you feel betrayed ? Wow, she looked at me right in the eyes and told me she barely knew your type, hence the list.”

“She really is the evil genius she thinks she is, huh ?” he asked rhetorically, his arms finding your hips and pulling you closer to him.

“Myeah, gonna have a talk with you now, little girl…” you replied, resting your head comfortably against his shoulder, the feeling almost too natural to feel new, and you could only smile absentmindedly as your own arms hugged him back.

Did i feel fully comfortable writing boys down-talking a girl for that two sentence apparition? No. But for the sake of the storyyyy :D

Future partner if you have to nickname me, let it be moonbeam. Please. And if you could cosplay nightwing on a weekly basis it’s an added bonus but hey, I won’t ask too much <3

Hope you enjoyed this heheh

Love, Nana -

#luke castellan imagine #imagine #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x you #oneshot #charlie bushnell #fanfiction #lukecastellan #nana's mind ━☆#pjo luke castellan #pjo angst #luke castellan angst

176 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 11 months ago

Text

Easy Like A Sunday morning ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

GENRE: comfort for family drama, argument between couple, established relationships, angsty, with soft ending

PAIRING: Chan x GN !Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The sun beamed through the cracks in the bedroom blinds as you lay with your head on Chan's chest, your fingers running up and down his chest softly as the two of you lay there for what felt like forever. Sundays were always the best for the two of you, neither of you had to work which meant you could spend all day in bed if you felt like it, which nine times out of ten you always did.

You'd lay in bed, tangled in the sheets enjoying the warmth of a lazy Sunday morning, doing nothing but eat and laugh together as you shared moments you couldn't wait to tell your future kids about.

"I love lazy Sundays with you," You said with a giant smile, your hands drawing invisible patterns into Chan's bare chest as he smiled and let out a content sigh.

There was nowhere else he'd rather be than with you, work had been stressful to him all week and this had been exactly what he needed to unwind from the chaos of his boss. The two of you needed this time together to just relax, sometimes it was the only thing you had to look forward to after a shitty time at work.

"Me too...No rush...No plans," He sighs happily as he stretches his legs in the bed making you giggle a little at him as he finally stopped and wrapped his arm around your waist,

"Just us, TV and lots of food." He finished as you let out a giggle. The two of you would always cook for one another, taking turns every Sunday to see who would cook for the other and this week it had been you.

So you'd made you both some breakfast wraps which had gone down a treat with Chan who'd already had three from you.

"We should do this on Saturdays too," You mumbled, turning to lay with your chin resting on your boyfriend's chest and smiling a little. Saturdays were usually reserved for spending time with your family but after the big blowout you'd had with them yesterday you were hoping you'd limit your time with them as much as humanly possible.

"I thought you were always busy on Saturdays..." Chan trailed off a little trying not to seem as hurt as he was by never getting to spend the full weekend with you but it was confusing for him. The two of you had been together for almost five months now and you'd never been free on Saturdays and whenever he asked you about it, you'd brushed it off as nothing or told him you were working.

"Turns out I might be free more often now," You smiled weakly and looked at Chan who appeared to be elsewhere in his own mind so you bit your lip and turned his head to look at you.

"I love you." You whispered before reaching across and kissing him softly. Chan's arms wrapped around you as he pulled you closer to him, his worries melting away as he shared a peaceful kiss with you. As you moved to straddle his lap something sounded downstairs and you stalled completely, your hands resting on Chan's bare chest and you frowned.

No one else had a key except for Chan - who was present and accounted for and...

"Shit!" You hissed out, rushing over to the end of the bed and throwing Chan's clothes in his direction, you looked at him to see him frowning at you.

"What?! Who is it?!" Chan sat bolt upright, panicking as you rushed to find your own clothes, you didn't have time to explain anything to him right now, all you needed to do was hurry up and get dressed before someone walked into your room.

"Yn, this would be a bad time to tell me you're secretly married with a husband." Chan chuckled lightly trying to make you talk to him but you shook your head at him, whimpering a little as you heard the front door slam shut.

"I'm not..I-I just- You need to go."

"What? Why?" The confusion was written across his face as he got dressed, grabbing his bag from your hands as you swallowed a lump that was in your throat.

"Yn! Get down here! We need to talk!" Your mother's voice screeched from down the stairs making your whole body tense up so hard you were afraid you were never gonna move again.

"Y-You need to get out of here before they see you," Your voice barely grew louder than a whisper but Chan heard you as he frowned,

"Why can't they see me?" Chan's voice came out in a whisper too and you cringed as you heard your brothers rumbling around in the kitchen,

"P-Please." Your shakey voice made Chan panic but he nodded his head, a little unsure as to where all of this was coming through.

The two of you had been going out long enough that you could easily meet one another's family, hell, you'd already met Chan's and they all adored you. Whenever Chan had asked about your family, you'd told him it was "complicated" and that you weren't that close but for them to walk into your home it seemed pretty close to him,

"Explain to me what's going on." He wasn't demanding but more concerned, your mother sounded pissed off and he wasn't going to leave you alone if you were worried about them.

"I will...later, I'll distract them and you can go out the front door." You looked out of the blinds to make sure none of them were waiting in the back and you made your way to the bedroom door, your heart racing rapidly inside of your chest.

"Yn," Chan whispered, his chest aching a little at the thought of you hiding him like he was some kind of dirty secret. All of your friends had met him, even your co-workers but you weren't introducing him to the people that mattered most and it pained him.

"I have to go. Please just leave." You barely gave him any chance to fight you on it before you walked out of the bedroom door and headed toward the living room.

"It's too late for you to still be in bed, you shouldn't sleep so much." Your mother's voice carried to the bedroom and Chan waited until he heard you shut the living room door before making a break for it.

The front door to your boyfriend's place creaked open as you stepped inside, your shoulders slumped as you let out an exasperated sigh and kicked off your shoes. You expected to see Chan waiting for you with open arms but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Chan?" You called out before walking further into the home but something felt completely off about it all. The living room felt uneasy and the air felt thick with tension as you noticed the dim lights and Chan sitting in a chair staring at you with a frustrated look on his face.

The air felt heavy as if it was carrying the weight of all the unspoken words between you and Chan from earlier in the morning.

"Chan-" You started but never got to finish,

"We've been together for five months and you've never introduced me to your family." You knew the two of you were going to talk about this tonight but you were hoping you could do it within the comfort of your boyfriend's arms.

"Chan, it's complicated." You breathed out, dropping your bag onto the floor and taking in a deep breath. You'd been trying to figure out where to start with this all day but you still didn't know how or even where to begin.

"Complicated? What seems complicated because they all seemed pretty happy to swing by your place today." He grumbled at you, you looked down at the floor before switching your gaze back to Chan who was staring daggers at you.

"They weren't invited." You mumbled a little because they weren't. They weren't supposed to use the key unless there was an emergency and after the fight you'd had the previous day you figured they'd never wanna see you again anyway.

"They're family, they come whenever they want. My family is the same." Chan reminded you and you rolled your eyes a little. Chan's family were great, they came around but announced it first, and sometimes sent a quick text to prepare him but yours weren't like that.

"Yeah, well your family is different than mine." Your family were different than most, they would drop by unannounced or call you at work demanding you leave and go to them right away.

"How?" He arched a brow at you. All day he'd been left to stew in his own thoughts and he'd come to one conclusion about everything and that was that you were ashamed to be with him and that was why you hadn't introduced him yet.

"It's-"

"Complicated," You both said at the same time before Chan let out a loud scoff at you, shaking his head before sitting down in the chair. This felt like a losing battle every single time he brought up the subject of your family,

"We've talked about it all before and you always brush it off. I feel like a dirty little secret."

"You're not a secret, Chan...It's just-"

"Just what?!" He finally yelled, losing his patience with you as tears built in his eyes. He wasn't the type to cry in front of you but he was losing his will and needed to know if there was something wrong with him that you would hide part of yourself away from him.

"They're just...They're different," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you stared at him. Your family had been one of the main reasons you swore off dating for the longest time. You'd never wanted to have to introduce anyone to your family so long as you could have helped it.

"Are you ashamed of me? Is that why we haven't been introduced?" He questioned, staring at you as you sniffled a little, you never wanted him to feel that way because of something you were doing. It had nothing to do with him and all to do with your family,

"No...Chan, it's not that," You sighed shaking your head.

"I just need some more time to figure out how to handle this." You explained, taking in deep breaths but Chan was through with waiting if it meant hiding behind closed doors and sneaking out of the house like he was a teenager.

"Time won't solve anything if we don't face it! We're supposed to be a team...Yn..." You stared at him as you felt the doubt hanging over you like a dark cloud.

You'd been taught never to depend on anyone else no matter what but Chan had been breaking that thought ever since the two of you had met. He'd been breaking every lesson your family had hammered into you over the years and you loved him for it.

"Let me in, Yn...Let me be there for you,"

"I need...time." Your voice cracked as Chan growled a little, standing up and staring at you.

"How much time do you need? Huh? This affecting our relationship and I can't just keep waiting around for you to be ready." Your eyes landed on his as you shook your head. It sounded like he was getting ready to break up with you and the whole point of hiding him from your family was to avoid that,

"Chan, please." You pleaded desperately with him, reaching out for his hands but he stepped further away from you, shaking his head.

"I love you, Chan, and I want to be with you just give me...a little time to figure things out with them." You begged, watching as Chan's eyes softened a little.

"I want to be with you too Yn but we can't keep avoiding it. It isn't fair on either of us." You sighed a little rubbing the bridge of your nose and nodding, you knew he was right but it didn't make you feel any better about all of this,

"We're not teenagers, I don't want to sneak around anymore." He finished and you looked up at him.

"My family are...They have certain beliefs." You told him plainly, sitting down on the edge of his sofa and trying to figure out the best way to approach all of this. It wasn't religion-based but your family believed that certain things had to be a certain way for families to be able to work and grow. It was safe to say you didn't share a lot of their beliefs since you'd done everything you could to get away from them ever since you were at a legal age to do so.

"They have a whole thing about dating, I'm not supposed to date anybody without them giving their approval," You scoffed a little and shook your head as you finally let it off your chest, a weight felt as though it was coming straight off you as well

"You know, it took me almost six years to convince them to let me move out."

"Let you?" Chan asked softly as he sat down on the chair, staring at you as he waited for you to elaborate on it some more,

"I wasn't allowed to work either, they stopped me working. Claiming I needed to be a homemaker for your future partner."

"But you weren't married to anyone..." Chan hoped you weren't since the two of you had been dating for so long and you laughed dryly and shook your head,

"No, but they had plans for me and I broke them down so I wouldn't have to fit in the mould that they had for me."

"Yn.." He whispered, sympathy leaking from his words as he moved to kneel on the spot in front of you, your eyes finding his as you finally let the damn break and you told him everything.

"Every Saturday is reserved for them. I have to go around there, and we talk about work and life at home it was the condition they had for letting me move out...That and no dating," You laughed dryly and Chan moved to sit beside you, holding your hand tightly.

"I hadn't told them about us yet because I didn't want them to rush me back to their place...To shield me away and I certainly don't want them to judge you." You looked at him with tears running down your cheeks.

"I'm scared I'll lose you." Chan grabbed your hand in his and squeezed them softly. There was no way on this earth that he was ever going to let you go without a great fight,

"You're not going to lose me...Ever and you're certainly not going to face it alone, Yn. I'm here for you, no matter what." He told you and you smiled weakly, you wanted to believe him but if your family were set on something they weren't just going to back down from it.

"I appreciate it, Chan, but they're difficult." You told him as he gently wiped the tears from your cheeks and shook his head, he didn't care how difficult they were he was never going to let you go through any of it alone.

"Then we can stay hidden as long as you need but sooner or later you'll have to face them...I plan on making you my future spouse and spending forever with you." Your cheeks began to heat as you looked at him,

"We're in this together, I love you." He whispered before kissing your forehead, your chest tightening a little as you nodded.,

"I love you too and I'll tell them...eventually. I just-"

"We'll tell them together whenever you're ready." He said, cutting you off and kissing your cheek softly. You thought about it and laughed a little, they were going to hate you introducing a man you'd already been dating for months.

"They won't like it."

"Then they'll have to get over it. If they try and take you from me they'll have a big fight on their hands." He winked at you before you cuddled into his chest, relaxing for the first time since that morning and letting out a small and happy sigh.

"Let's go upstairs and finish our lazy day." He told you before you kissed him softly and made your way toward the staircase.

"I'll be up, I'm going to order your favourite." He chuckled as he watched you happily jogging up the stairs to his bedroom.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #chan #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines

679 notes · View notes

heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 months ago

Text

✨All Dolled Up✨

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: After months of hard work, Lucifer finally gifted you a welcome present after joining the hotel! In return, you decide to make something of your own just for him! Your gift, however, turns out to be even more special than you intended...

This is a surprise story for my friend @rosen-und-mondlicht who gave me this very creative and fun idea for a story! Love you boo <3

Huge thanks to @canihaveacandycane and @citrusbatsandhoneybees for the help on this one!

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, p in v

Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! We're so happy to have you stay with us! We hope your time here is an enjoyable one!

-Hotel Staff

P.S. Hey there! I'm sorry this took so long to give you, I just had to make it perfect! I hope you like it!

-Lucifer

It was custom for every new resident to receive a welcome letter. Even though you've already been at the hotel for 6 months now, it was still appreciated. You walked into your room and found your very late letter sitting next to a small white box complete with a red bow resting at the foot of your bed. The gift was unexpected; however, you hadn't heard of anyone else receiving one. Once you read the card, you figured you knew the reason for its delay. Lucifer, always the perfectionist, must have stalled the whole operation.

You hadn't expected to become so close to the King of Hell himself. You were weary of him at first, I mean, who wouldn't be? Everyone knew about the fallen angel. But after a while, you started to warm up to him. It was easy to see that he was nothing like you imagined or had been told about while you were alive. He was a kind soul, a dreamer who loved his daughter dearly, and someone who was very, very lonely. You learned about his previous wife Lilith and how she had left several years ago never and hadn't been heard from since. You could tell this deeply affected Lucifer even though he did his best to hide it through his jovial persona. You two grew pretty close, he found you incredibly easy to talk to, as if he had known you his whole life. You enjoyed your time together and you found joy in listening to whatever he chose to ramble on about that day be it his latest project or reminiscing about his daughter Charlie when she was younger. You'd never admit it, but you had developed somewhat of a crush on the king. But who were you to get involved with the ruler of Hell? It wasn't your place as a mere sinner and you dared not ruin the friendship you had built with him, odd as it may be.

Curiously, you picked up the box and casually began to unwrap it. you lifted the lid to find a cute little rubber duck that resembled you! All the little details down to your hair, your eye color, and somehow it managed to capture your smile in its little orange beak. You loved it, no wonder to took him so long to complete; every detail was perfect. It was such a thoughtful gift, and you felt the burning need to return the favor! Who knows the last time Lucifer had been given a gift. Why couldn't it be from you?

You noticed something else in the box too and lifted it up gently. It was a beautiful white and red feather. You knew it must have been his, but did he mean to give this to you as well? Knowing him, he must have worked frantically to get this gift finished. A few must have fallen off during the packing process; you knew how stressed the man could get. But the feather gave you an idea. You couldn't make rubber ducks like him, that was his specialty. But you did, however, know how to make little felt dolls! You were very crafty during your life and you figured you might as well use the skills you have to do something good.

You spent most of the night sewing and stitching everything together, ignoring the many warning signs your body gave you in order to try and get you to sleep. You were stubborn, however. Once you started a project, it was almost impossible for you stop until it was complete. It was nearly dawn by the time you finally finished the little doll. Well, almost finished! Everything was perfect, from the little snake that wrapped around his little hat to the tiny golden buttons on his jacket. There was only one things left to do! You grabbed the feather that you had found your box and delicately placed it inside of the small slit you had left open on the side of the doll. You thought the feather could represent a heart, something meaningful to give the doll and make it different from anything else.

Finally, you stitched the last gap closed, cutting the strong with your teeth to finally complete your gift. You stared at the doll for a moment to admire your work. And you were happy. But something weird happened. Just then, a small flash of golden light emanated from the doll but disappeared as quickly as it came. You set it down and rubbed your eyes. You looked over the doll again for another minute, but the flash of light never returned. You chalked it up to being a trick of the light. And considering the fact that you were sleep deprived, you wouldn't put it past your brain to start pulling tricks on you. You shrugged it off, taking the doll with you to bed. You drifted off to sleep easily, your eyes growing heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. You clutched the doll close to your chest, giving it a small peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Lucifer," you whispered to it before letting your body fall unconscious.

****

You woke up with a start to the sound of your alarm blaring. It was 8:00 a.m. Not nearly enough sleep. You realized you hadn't moved all night; your body must have been too exhausted to toss and turn. You found yourself still holding the doll and smiled to yourself. You were still exhausted, but you knew Charlie would be sad if you missed breakfast, so with all of your remaining strength, you pulled yourself out of bed and begrudgingly began to get ready for the day. You decided you use a small tan paper you had from one of your shopping trips bag to hold the doll, thanking yourself for not just tossing it away like you normally would have.

You made your way to the kitchen knowing Charlie would be preparing breakfast for everyone. But to your surprise, when you entered through the kitchen door, it was not the princess you found at the stove, but her father. You heard him whistling a song you never heard before, a perfect melody. Your heart began to race as you walked a little bit closer to him, the smell of pancakes filling your senses.

"I can hear you, you know," Lucifer called out playfully as he flipped a pancake in the air. You couldn't help but giggle.

"Well, I'm glad," you retorted, now standing beside him. "I didn't really want to be scaring you when you’re working over a hot stove like that."

He gave you a small smirk without looking away from what he was doing. "Oh yeah, that truly would be terrible, wouldn't it?" he laughed. You knew he was more or less invincible, being an angel and all. Still, you didn't want to distract him.

"I thought Charlie was usually the one to prepare breakfast," you commented.

"Oh, she is!" Lucifer smiled. "But I told her I would handle the meals today. My little girl works so hard around here, you know? I thought it would be nice to take something of her plate...so to speak." He chuckled at his own joke as he laid the freshly made stack of pancakes on the neatly assembled row of plates.

"Do you need any help?" you asked, setting down the brown paper bag behind the kitchen island out of his view.

"Sure!" He turned around and pointed to the condiments he had laid out. "Could you hand me the syrup and the whipped cream over there?" You did as he asked and brought him the items. Lucifer began to smother the fluffy cakes in syrup and drawing little ducks with the whipped cream to top them all off. When he was finished, you and him delivered breakfast to the hotel residents. You came back to the kitchen to notice there were two plates of pancakes left.

"Oh, we forgot some," you commented. "Who did we forget?"

Lucifer only smiled. "Those are for us, silly! You have to eat too, don't you?"

In your effort to help, you completely forgot that you hadn't eaten. He handed you your plate and fork and you two stood there eating his delicious creation as you leaned against the countertop.

"These are amazing!" you tried to say with your mouth still half full.

Lucifer swallowed his last bite and gave you a toothy grin. "Why thank you! I'll be honest, I haven't cooked in a long time. I was afraid I had forgot how. But if you like them, then I know I succeeded!"

You set your finished plate down and crossed your arms. Lucifer seemed to be in more high spirits than usual. You liked seeing him like this; just happy. "If you don't mind me saying, Lucifer, your mood seems...different. N-Not in a bad way! Just...more full of energy."

He followed your motion and set his plate down behind him. "You think so?"

"Yeah," you continued. "It's nice to see. I like a happy Lucifer."

He smiled at you and left out a soft sigh. "Can I tell you something?" You tilted your head in confusion but nodded. "This is gonna sound a little weird, maybe a little bit crazy, but just hear me out, okay?"

"Of course! I never think you're crazy," you smiled. His hand found the back of his neck; he looked as though he was nervous about whatever he was about to tell you. Your heart started racing again.

"Last night, when I was sleeping...in the middle of the night, I felt something...I don't know how to say this...constricting me?" You furrowed your brow, not understanding what he was trying to say. "Maybe that's not the right word. Let's say...holding me. That sounds better."

"Holding you?" you questioned, "I'm not sure I get it."

"Okay uhh, let me think..." he placed his hand under his chin. "It almost felt like...cuddling?"

"So...someone was cuddling you last night?" you spoke in a hushed tone. You feared the worst when you heard him say those words. Lucifer noticed your change in demeanor and quickly back peddled.

"No, no, that's the thing! I was alone last night!" he reassured you. "I always sleep alone, ever since..." he shook his head as to move on and forget it. But you knew what he was going to say. "It was the strangest damn thing, in the middle of the night no less! And there was a voice that..."

Your brain refused to acknowledge Lucifer's last few words and were more focused on the fact that he was indeed alone last night. "That...certainly is odd. What could..."

Oh no...

Your eyes went wide with fear, your whole body froze, you couldn't bring yourself to finish your thought.

The doll.

The doll you made for him. You went to bed with it last night. You held it in your arms. You kissed it goodnight!

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

"Is everything alright?" Lucifer snapped you back to reality. "You look paler than me!"

You swallowed hard trying to muster up any sort of response. "Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm totally fine! I just...I realized I promised I would help Angel with something this morning and I completely forgot! So, I'll see you later!"

You didn't give Lucifer a chance to respond as you ran out the door and grabbed the bag you had hidden from view. You didn't let up until you reached your room and slammed the door behind you. You set the bag down carefully onto your bed and gingerly removed the doll from it, using only your nails to hoist it out. You let it lay in your hand as you stared at it with panicked eyes.

"What the hell did I do?!" you asked yourself in a berating tone. "It's just a doll, it shouldn't have - hold on..." A sudden memory came flooding back to you. You called the doll emitting a strange light the night before as soon as you finished sewing the remaining stitches. Last night, you thought it was just the trick of the light; it was late and you were beyond exhausted. But that didn't explain why Lucifer was able to feel you holding him last night. The last thing you did was add "...the feather!"

That must be it! His feather must have caused the connection. Lucifer was an angel after all, a magical being of pure light. Surely anything that was a part of him would carry those same properties. You had to get rid of it! But how? You didn't know the extent of what this doll could feel. Surely stabbing it with a knife would cause him some pain...you think. Given Lucifer was more or less indestructible, you still didn't really want to test that theory.

So, you stood there with the doll limp in your hand unsure of what to do with it next.

You couldn't bring yourself to destroy it, you put so much work into it and it would kill you to get rid of something that was meant to be an innocent gift. The best option would be to hide it, leave somewhere no one would find it and forget that it even exists. But then, the thought of Lucifer's smile crosses your mind. He was so happy this morning, happier than you've ever seen him. And it was because of you. Not that you would every dream of telling him that. But maybe...maybe it would be alright if you kept it. If you held it close to you at night. Perhaps it wasn't the most moral decision, but hey, you're in Hell, morality is not a common practice here. You brought that doll to your chest and held it tight. "I'm sorry..." you murmured to it, "If I can't tell you how I really feel, maybe this is the next best thing."

For the next several nights, you went to bed with the held tightly. And for the next several days, you couldn't bring yourself to face Lucifer. Anytime you heard him approaching or his voice getting closer, you ran the other direction. But not far enough to completely miss him. While you hid from his view, he had that same jovial expression since the day you made breakfast together. It warned your heart to know that what you were doing had a positive effect on him, even though you couldn't shake the guilt that came with that either. Sometimes he would catch you by surprise and spot you from across the hall. Lucifer would call out to you but you made it a point to get out of there as fast as possible. Strangely enough, he never sought you out after you ran, but you thought that was for the best.

One night before you went to bed, you sat up on your mattress staring at your creation resting in your palms.

"I'm a coward," you told yourself. "I should just tell him the truth. Why am I even doing this? I want him to be happy, but this isn't right. I shouldn't have put the feather in there, I should have just thrown this in my closet and not given it a second thought. But no! Now I'm avoiding him like a frightened cat because I don't have the guts to tell him..." You sighed. "One more night. Just one more. And then I'm done. I'll never think about this again." You turned off your lamp and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

****

You cracked your eyes open the next morning, the light of the red sky filling your room. You sat up and rubbed your eyes before feeling around for your doll. You couldn't find it. Your opened your eyes wider. The doll wasn't there. You leaped from the bed and quickly began turning over your covers and throwing the pillows onto the floor. Nothing. You dropped to the ground and peered under your bed to a shocking sight. You gasped.

Keekee somehow found her way into your room. And what was in her mouth other than your little Lucifer doll.

"Keekee," you called to her. "I'm gonna need that back, sweetie! That's not a toy!" Your hand reached out slowly, trying not to spook the little cat. Her tail whipped back and forth as she raised her hind legs. "Nooooooo, don't you dare Keekee, I swear I'll..." but before you could finish your threat, she bolted from under your bed and ran straight out of your room. "Damn it!"

You didn't have time to change and in that moment you didn't care. You flung the door wide open and watched Keekee turn the corner, the doll still in her tiny mouth. "Keekee, get back here!" you yelled down to her as quietly as you could. You didn't know what time it was but it was too early to be cursing at a cat. She scurried away into another hall, forcing you to chase after her. You never lost sight of her, which you thought was a little odd. Normally Keekee could disappear if she really wanted to, but at no point did she ever make an attempt to avoid you completely. It was almost like she wanted you to follow her.

After several crazy turns, you saw her duck into and open door in one of the hallways. You figured it must be a closet. She was finally trapped. You hurried over to the dark room and pushed the door shut so the cat couldn't escape easily. But now you couldn't see.

"Keekee, come here girl," you cooed. "I promise I'm not mad, I just want the doll back." You found it a little ridiculous that you were trying to barter with a cat, but it was early in the morning and your hadn't fully woken up yet. "This isn't funny anymore, you know. Please, Keekee, I need that back!"

"And why would that be?" a low voice boomed in the dark. You shrieked as the lights flashed on. After blinking a few times trying to get your eye to readjust, you realized where you ended up.

Lucifer's workshop...with Lucifer sitting at his desk, Keekee snuggled in his lap.

Shit.

The first thing you could process was that you were still in your nightgown. Instinctively, you threw your hands over your chest in shock and embarrassment.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" Lucifer apologized, quickly covering his eyes with his forearm. "H-Here!" With a snap of his fingers, a giant blanket formed around you, covering you from head to toe. You gripped it tightly to keep in from falling off your shoulders. Lucifer peaked through his arm to make sure you were decent. "Sorry again, I should have realized you wouldn't have been dressed yet." You felt your cheeks burn as he spoke. He reached down to pet Keekee who had then dropped the doll into his other hand. "Such a good girl, Keekee!" he praised her, "who's a good girl? You are! Yes you are!" He looked back up at you and cleared his throat. Lucifer stood up from his chair while Keekee leaped onto the ground, curling up into a ball, and taking a little nap under his desk.

You swallowed hard before finally finding your voice to speak. "L-Lucifer, I-I can explain! I-"

"It's alright," the fallen angel smiled. "I'm sorry about all this, but you've been avoiding me lately. I knew you'd follow Keekee once you realized she stole this from you." He held out the doll in his hand. "You made this?"

You nodded your head, refusing to make any sort of eye contact. "It was meant as a gift for you. The duck you gave me was amazing, I wanted to give you something in return, but..." you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Lucifer continued to smile softly at you. This was definitely not the reaction you were expecting from him. You had so many questions and so many apologies to give him, but there was one burning question that you needed answered first. "Did you know something like this was possible?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I didn't. One of my feathers is in this, right?" You nod. "It must still contain its magic despite not being attached to me anymore."

Your eyes shifted to the ground. "How did you know it was me?"

"I heard you." You raised your eyebrow, not understanding his answer. "I heard your voice. Anytime you held the doll, I heard you, as if you were whispering in my ear. At first, I didn't recognize it. But as you kept talking, the words you were saying; it all clicked. I've been trying to get your attention these last few days but you ran as soon as you saw me. Were you...afraid that I would be angry?"

You nodded again, tears now welling up in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Lucifer, I didn't mean to...I just..."

"Hey, hey! Please don't cry! Please?" Lucifer quickly wiped away the tears that fell down your cheek. "I'm not angry, I promise! I'm the furthest thing from it!"

You sniffled a few times, trying to even out your breathing again. "You...You're not? But why?"

Lucifer looked down at the doll in his hand and sighed. "Because...I haven't felt that kind of care in a long time. " He gently ran his hands over the small striped undershirt of the tiny Lucifer. "Hehe, it feels weird when I do it..." He looked back up at you with the most needy eyes you've ever seen. "I should have talked to you immediately after I figured out what was going on. I should have made more of an effort. But I didn't. I know that's selfish of me. But...I was afraid if I did, you would stop. Every time I tried to talk to you, you ran. And I was silently grateful that you did. It meant I would get to feel that same feeling of being held again that night. When you said that last night would be the final time, I knew I had to come clean. I couldn't let you go on thinking that what you were doing was wrong. I hope you can forgive me."

He was apologizing to you? When you were the one that made this magical doll and refused to tell him about it? "You have nothing to be sorry for, I created this, and I didn't tell you what was happening when I learned what I'd done. This is my fault."

"Can I see your hand?" Lucifer asked, almost as if he was ignoring the blame you were putting on yourself. You did as he asked and outstretched your hand. He placed the doll flat in your palm. "You're very skilled, you know. You did a wonderful job capturing my good side," he chuckled. "I know this was originally meant for me, but I want you to keep it. What you do with it is up to you." You remained perfectly as he spoke. "If you want to forget that this ever happened, I would completely understand. You can put it on a shelf or hide it in a closet, and this will never be brought up again." His palms rested on top of the doll and the bottom of your hand. "But..." his grip tightened ever so slightly, his claws digging into the fabric.

"You don't want that, do you?" his thoughts leaving your mouth. Lucifer didn't respond, he didn't even look up as you asked him.

That was all the answer you needed.

You pulled away and hid the doll under your blanket, giving him a soft smile. "I'll keep it...you safe. I promise. If it's what you really want."

"I do." The king couldn't help but beam at you. He wrapped his arms around you, constricting your own. He pulled away once he realized how hard he had been squeezing you. "Sorry," he laughed lightly. "Umm, by the way, i-if you ever need me, you can use the doll to talk to me if I'm not around. It can be about anything..." he leaned in closer and closer to you until you felt the light brush of his lips against your cheek. "And I do mean anything. I don't want to, you know, assume anything, but there had to be a reason why you went to bed with the doll every night. Some of the things you said...it sounded like you had more that you wanted to say. I just don't want you to be afraid. We're friends after all, right?"

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you listened to his words. You tried to speak but only air left your lips. Lucifer only giggled as you watched his cheeks turn a pale yellow. You couldn't believe what he was inferring. it couldn't be possible. And yet here you were with Lucifer himself practically begging for more of your attention.

"I...I don't know what to say," you finally managed to choke out. "This is all a little overwhelming, Lucifer."

"Then don't say anything," Lucifer responded. "Take all the time you need. I hope to see you soon," With a snap of his fingers, you were engulfed in sparkling red flame. You shielded your eyes for a brief moment. But after opening them again, you found yourself back in your bedroom. You walked over to your open door and quietly closed it, sinking to the floor afterwards. There was a lot you needed to process. The blanket that covered you fell to the floor as you ogled at the doll in your hand.

You hugged it tighter than you ever had before.

****

The rest of the day was perfectly quiet, mostly because you did see Lucifer for the rest of it. You cautiously approached Charlie and asked about him. She let you know that her dad told her he needed his privacy today and that no one should worry. Her words didn't comfort you like you hoped they would. Was Lucifer okay? Did this whole ordeal cause him to isolate himself. Did he change his mind about it? Your heart sunk at the thought. You needed to talk to him again, but you weren't sure you could face him. But...there was another option.

Later that night, you threw on your robe to get ready for a nice long bath. After the day you had, you needed it. You glanced over at the little stuffed doll sitting on your night stand, now hearing your own heartbeat in your ears. It was now or never; you wouldn't let your nerves get the better of you anymore. You took a hold of it and sat down on your bed, now extra aware of your hand movements.

"Lucifer, can you hear me?" You asked. There was no response. "I guess that was a stupid question. Hey, umm, I wanted to thank you. For today, I mean. I was so afraid that this situation would sully our friendship so badly that you'd never want to talk to me again. I hope you're doing alright. And I hope Keekee's teeth didn't hurt you too badly. I'm rambling now, aren't I?" In that moment, you could almost hear Lucifer's laugh.

The grip on you had on it tightened ever so slightly as you gathered the courage for what you really wanted to say. "You were right before. When you thought I had more to say to you. I-I did. But I didn't know how you would take it if I ever told you. I was afraid of your reaction. And your rejection. But...I don't have the strength to tell you in person." You brought the doll closer to your face, your lips ghosting over the fabric. "I love you," you whispered before planting a small peck to its small cheek.

Silence.

Your breath heaved slightly before setting the doll back down. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. It was done. There was nothing more you can do. You stood up and headed straight for the tub. You needed that bath now more than ever.

Knock knock knock

You froze in place for a few seconds, a little bit frightened by the sudden noise that emanated from your bedroom door.

Knock knock knock knock knock

The knocking on the door became more eager. You hurried over to answer after waiting a little too long to answer. Silently, you opened the door.

Lucifer was standing there in the hallway with the brightest smile.

"I love you too. I only wish you would have told me sooner," the ruler of Hell whispered as he gripped your hands. "Because then I could have done this!"

With little warning, Lucifer brought his lips to yours. You sat there in shock, eyes wide, before quickly succumbing to his temptations. You let your eyes lids fall as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer while his hands found your waist. A delicate kiss to your soft lips, over and over he lightly parted his own as he continuously nipped at you. He pulled away, staring back with his half-lidded eyes. You could have sworn he was drunk of the kiss the way his face formed into a goofy grin. He giggled just a little before widening his eyes in shock and stepping away.

"I'm sorry! I don't know how I keep catching you at the worst times!" he exclaimed now looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. You realized what had caused him to get so flustered. You looked down and remembered that you were in your robe.

And only your robe.

You blushed hard, not being able to stop yourself from laughing. "No, no, it's okay! This one's on me, I shouldn't have called you dressed like this."

"But you didn't know I was going to pop over here! My fault, I don't wanna hear any 'buts'!" Lucifer turned his head to the side still doing his best not to look at you.

"Well, I was just getting ready for a bath..." you began.

"O-Oh, yeah, of course! No worries! I really should have thought this through, I just got really excited and I...Anyway! We can talk about this tomorrow! So, I'll just be-"

"My bath is big enough for two." You blurted out without thinking.

At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. What was only a few moments felt like an eternity of silence. Your first instinct was to shut the door and lock it as fast as possible, but your body refused to budge. You just stood there horrified at the words that had escaped your mouth.

Lucifer wasn't faring much better. You watched his whole face turn a bright yellow that spread rapidly over his painted cheeks. And...was he shaking?

"I don't know why I said that," you mumbled almost incoherently. "if you need me, I'll be drowning myself now." You began to close the door before Lucifer caught it.

"I don't want you to drown," he spoke softly with just a hint of humor in his voice. "I better stay to make sure you're safe."

His words shot threw you like an arrow and your body instinctively opened the door once more to let your visitor in. The implications of his acceptance of your accidental offer crashed over you as soon as Lucifer closed the door behind him. He gave you a sheepish smile, his face's yellow tint had yet to rescind.

"I-I'll uhh, I'll draw the bath then," you squeaked and scurried over to the bathroom without another word. You tossed a towel for him onto your bed and hid yourself in the next room as the water began to fill the tub. You felt as though you could pass out at any moment; the crushing anxiety mixed with your burning desire to be as close to him as physically possible was a terrifying yet tantalizing feeling. To counter your worry, you grabbed some bottled soap from the counter and mixed it in with the steaming water, creating thousands of little white bubbles that threatened to spill over onto the floor. You would worry about any mess made later; right now, you wanted to savor this moment as much as you possibly could. Disrobing, you stepped into the now full tub and sunk down into the soothing water. Your heart was still beating a mile a minute but the water did half a sort of calming effect on you.

Knock knock knock

Well, that didn't last long.

"May I join you now?" Lucifer's muffled voiced called out.

A few quick deep breaths later, you cleared your throat, praying your voice wouldn't reveal how utterly stressed you were. "Y-Yes, come in!" Perhaps a poor choice of words, but you didn't have time to think about that when you caught your first glimpse of a nearly naked Lucifer. His alabaster skin looked as if he had been carved from the finest marble, his shoulders were broad compared to his relatively slim physique. Your eyes trailed to his blackened arms and hands that perfectly contrasted the rest of his skin. He was the epitome of perfection. The man closed the door behind him and made his way over to you.

"H-Hi," Lucifer stuttered.

"Heeeyyyyy there..." you rolled your eyes. "Listen, we can agree this is just a little awkward, right?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Maybe just a little bit. How's the water?"

"Join me and see for yourself! I'll just umm..." you turned your head and covered the side of your face with your hand, assuring you wouldn't see anything once he removed his towel.

"I'm not shy, hon." You just knew if you turned around, he would have the most prideful smirk on his face.

"You should get in before I change my mind," you playfully shot back.

You heard his towel hit the floor immediately. A fiery heat burned your core as the water shifted when he made his way in the tub. You closed your eyes for good measure so that you wouldn't be tempted to make this even more awkward than it already was. As soon as the water stopped moving, you took that as a sign that it was safe to look again. You turned your head to see Lucifer was sitting back against the other side playfully running his hands through the soapy bubbles that were floating on the surface.

"I love the bubbles, a very nice touch!" he commented.

"Thanks," you murmured. "You're sitting the wrong way though."

"Huh?"

"W-Well," you cleared your throat, "how am I supposed to clean you if you’re sitting so far away?"

"Oh...oh! Yeah, you're right!" Lucifer quickly spun his body around, his back now facing you. You spread your legs wider for him to scoot up closer to you, but he remained closer to the center of the tub. "Is this better?"

"Still a little too far..." The time for embarrassment had long gone. You grabbed a hold of Lucifer's hips and brought his body nearly flush between your thighs, earning a yelp from the startled angel. "What happened to not being shy, hmm?" you taunted. You could have sworn a little whimper escaped his throat.

Despite its frigid appearance, his body was warmer than you expected. You didn't let your hands linger on his waist for too long nor did you want to think about how his ass was mere inches away from your yearning womanhood. You forced yourself out of the trance and instead grabbed the washcloth and body soap from the small table and began to pour some of the liquid into the small towel, rubbing it between your fingers. "You promise to tell me if this becomes too much?"

Lucifer turned his head with a soft look on his face. "I promise that it won't be." You hummed, slowly bringing the cloth to his skin. He shuddered from the contact.

"Are you alright, Lucifer?"

He exhaled deeply. "I'm alright. More than alright! I'm just...really enjoying this. Thank you..."

You didn't waist anymore time scrubbing the rest of his back clean. Moving to his shoulders, down each arms, then reaching around the front to get to his chest. Without realizing, your head found its way to one of his shoulders, your chin resting comfortably. A soft sigh left your lips.

"Hey, uhh, y-you're going a little low there..." Lucifer said, his voice snapping you out of your haze. Your hand somehow drifted below the water and ended up resting on his lower stomach. Once you realized where you were heading, you pulled your arms away immediately.

"Sorry!" you nearly shouted. "I-I wasn't paying attention! Shit, I'm sorry!"

Lucifer shifted again, now facing you and gave you a small peck. "Sweetheart, it's alright, really! You don't need to apologize." Lucifer took the rag from your hand and made his way back to where he first started against the other side of the tub. "Here, let me return the favor. It's your turn now." With mild hesitation, you accepted his help wordlessly, turning your back to him as he did for you. Afraid of getting any closer, you stopped before any noticeable contact had been made. "I need you closer, dear," he whispered in your ear before pulling you against his chest with minimal effort.

You felt everything in that moment; his hands resting on your hips, his hot breath against your sensitive skin, and most distracting of all, his very noticeable hard on against the small of your back. It took everything you had to not scream like you wanted to. Knowing that this perfect creator was turned on by you made your heart flutter like a butterfly. Your body begged your to shift, if only a little bit, just to feel him rub against you. But you fought it against it furiously, digging your finger into the sides of his thighs to keep yourself grounded. The way your body tensed caused Lucifer to push you away from him slightly.

"Too much?" he asked, concerned that he may have crossed a line.

"No." you shook your head. You pushed yourself back against him, the friction sending a shiver up your spine. The low moan from Lucifer was magical, almost hypnotic. You needed to hear more. But before you could shift again, you felt the soft texture of the washcloth against your back.

"Good," his voice causing goosebumps to form on your arms, "now let's get you clean." He mimicked your movements, gliding the cloth against your soft skin, starting from the top and working his way down methodically. He moved to your shoulders, first the left and the right. Every muscle in your body just wanted to relax into him; you only wanted to float in this water with him for the rest of the night. But you were snapped out of your daydream when you noticed his movements had stopped. You looked down and saw his hand resting on your collarbone. It took only a moment to realize why the devil himself became a statue.

Lucifer swallowed hard behind you. "Am I allowed to...can I...?"

With a small giggle, you took the cloth from his hand and tossed it to the ground. Pulling your hands out of the water, you guided his own hands to your breasts. Lucifer gasped lightly but didn't pull away once your released his hands. His claws felt so nice on your bare skin that you let out a gasp of your own. "I think we're past the point of modesty, Lucifer. Go ahead, I-I want you to touch me."

Your permission was all he needed. Within a second, the king of Hell began to massage your breasts with the most delicate of touches, kneading them like fresh dough. His mouth sank down onto your pulse, sucking on it feverishly. A small whimper escaped your throat as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers. The man was intoxicated and you were the cause.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" he breathed against your skin. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you how beautiful you are? How enchanting? How irresistible?" One of his hands made its way down your side to your hip, sinking beneath the water and resting on your inner thigh. "To hold you like this is a dream come true."

"Lucifer, please..." you begged. Your hand found his once more and guided it down to where you needed him most. Once his fingers reached your folds, you couldn't help but whimper. In no time, he began circling your clit gingerly while his other hand worked at your breast. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You opened your legs as wide as your tub would allow to give him more access to your needy hole.

"Tell me what you want, love," he whispered in your ear. "Just say the word and it's yours."

"Touch me..." you pleaded.

You felt a finger slip into you effortlessly, a broken moan falling from your lips. You turned your head and crashed your lips into his, your desire for him only growing with every passing second. Another one of his fingers slid into you, his digits gliding in and out of your pussy with ease. He moaned into your mouth as he continued to pump his digits into your cunt, his pace increasing slowly with every movement.

"Need more of you..." he pleaded. "Please..." His fingers refused to let up. The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter. You cried out in pure elation when you felt the coil finally give way, cumming hard and pulsing around his fingers that had yet to slow down. Once you could breathe normally against, he at last retreated his fingers from you, giving you a small peck on your forehead.

"T-Thank you," you mumbled out. "I think we're both pretty clean now, wouldn't you say."

"I'd say your right," Lucifer agreed. In a flash, Lucifer managed to stand up and scoop you up effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small yelp when he picked you up and set you down on the bathroom floor, retrieving a towel from the nearby rack and sliding it up and down your body before using it on himself. "But I think this is all for naught," he continued as he guided you back to your bed, "because I think we may need another bath, I'm afraid."

He laid you down and quickly shoved his heads between your legs. You realized what he was about to do and sat up before he could go any further. "Wait, wait, hold on now!" Lucifer's eyes looked back at you with concern. "I don't think this is fair! What about you? I haven't even touched you yet!"

Lucifer gaze softened. "Oh, hon, I appreciate it but you don't have to worry about me! I-I'm fine, really! I just...I really need to taste you... Please, I'll do anything!"

You closed your legs and folded your arms over your chest, earning a tiny whimper from the man in front of you. "I seem to recall that I could have anything I wanted," you teased. Lucifer nodded and stuck out his lower lip to pout. You rolled your eyes and smiled, crawling over to him. "I have an idea. But you need to lay down for me. Can you do that?"

He did as you said almost instantly, his head hitting the back of the pillows with a soft thud. At this point you couldn't help but stare at his twitching cock. It was beautiful; thicker and longer than you might have expected from someone of his stature. Not that you would ever complain. You had to hold yourself back from letting out a whine that threatened to make you sound even more pathetic. You closed your eyes and crawled over the devil beneath you. You leaned down to kiss him again, his tongue not holding back from pushing through your lips and entangling it with yours. You pulled away and smiled unabashedly at him, admiring his perfect face and his insanely adorable blush. Without a word, you turned your body so your pussy hovered inches away from his mouth.

"S-Shit..." you heard Lucifer mutter under his breath. Knowing you had this much of an effect on him gave you the confidence you needed to grab ahold of his aching member. Lucifer couldn't help but cry out.

"This way we both get what we want," you told him before giving his tip a tiny little kitten lick. The precum from his shaft had already begun spilling onto your hand; you couldn't help but grin. "Someone is needyyyyYYYY F-FUCK!"

Lucifer pulled your hips down onto his face without warning, his tongue working at your slick cunt like a man starved. HIs claws dug into the sides of your body, the pain mixing with the undeniable pleasure his mouth gave you. Not to be outdone, you sunk your mouth down on his cock, licking and sucking at the tip. Lucifer moaned into your pussy at the feeling of your tongue. Both of your lust-filled sounds filled your room as you each sought to bring the other to their climax. You wouldn't let him win. You couldn't.

Your head bobbed up and down his girthy shaft over and over, taking in as much of him as you could. But with your growing pace came Lucifer's own counter move as his forked tongue pushed even further into you than you thought possible. You were both coming undone impossibly fast. Even with your head fuzzy from the tantalizing feeling of his mouth, your hand and mouth worked together in tandem to push him over the edge. Lucifer cursed against your skin as you felt his hot cum finally fill your waiting mouth. But it only took him a few seconds more to bring you to another orgasm after he begun to tease your clit over and over and over, refusing to give you any sort of reprieve.

You swallowed as much of his as you could before letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop with some of his release dripping down towards your chin. You wiped your fingers against the remains and made sure he watched as you licked them clean. Something in Lucifer must have snapped because the next thing you knew, you had been flipped down onto the mattress with your wrists pinned at your sides. You blinked and stared up into Lucifer now glowing red eyes; his. His demonic horns had burst from his temple, his angelic wings appeared and began flapping behind him, and his tail whipped back and forth before coiling itself around your waist. You gulped, your pussy begging to be filled by the man above you.

"Sorry," Lucifer apologized. "I got a little too excited there." He freed your hands and brought them down to your hips. "D-Do you want to keep going? We can stop if this is too much and-"

You cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips. "It's alright, Luci. I want this. I want you."

Lucifer smiled and kissed you again, stroking his still hard cock in the process. When he pulled away, you felt the tip graze your slick folds. That feeling alone was enough to make you shudder with anticipation. With final nod from you, Lucifer at last began to sink into you. You winced at the pain you felt as your body forced itself to stretch for him until he finally bottomed out inside of you. The pain slowly faded as he waited patiently, smiling at you the entire time.

"Y-You can move now," you squeaked out.

Lucifer nodded, shifting his hips just enough to pull out of you almost all the way before thrusting back in, earning a wanton moan from you. He started slow for you, knowing his size was a bit much to handle. But as your body relaxed, his picked up the pace. Faster and faster until both of you were complete and utter moaning messes.

"F-Fuck...feel so good, love," Lucifer sighed as his wings began to twitch. "S-So good. So perfect...I'm really happy y-you made that doll. I-I know everything didn't go exactly as planned but...GAAHHH FFFFUCK...I think it all turned out f-for the better, don't you think?"

Your moans turned into giggles as he continued to rut into you relentlessly. "You're s-such a dork," you laughed as your legs wrapped around him to force him to keep him as deep inside you as possible.

"B-But I'm your dork," he joked back. "Sorry love, but you're stuck with m-me now!"

"G-Good," you responded breathlessly, his hips thrusting into you even faster than before. "Then we c-can be dorks together!"

"P-Perfect!" Your cunt sucked in his cock as you felt the coil in your stomach tightening again. By the noises he was making, you can only assume Lucifer was almost at his limit too. "Darling...c-can't...I'm close...f-fuck...where-"

"Inside!" you screamed. "FuckfuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!" Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your wanton cries echoing off the corners of your room. It only took a few more thrusts for Lucifer to follow suit and spill his seed inside of you, his cum painting your walls a pearlescent white was he pulled you in close for another passionate kiss.

The king crashed on top of you after pulling out of you, his unearthly features retreating except for his tail which remained firmly wrapped around you. You smiled as he laid his head on your chest, his breathing labored and shaky. You stroked his soft blond hair as he hummed in approval. He looked up at you with adoring eyes and stuck out his snake-like tongue.

"What's that look for?" you asked him.

"Oh nothing," Lucifer sighed, "I'm just looking at the prettiest woman in all of Hell is all!"

You pushed his face away and laughed. "Yep, still a dork."

"But you love me!" he said gleefully, rolling onto the bed and pulling you into a tight embrace.

"I do, I really do. I wish I would have told you sooner."

Lucifer kissed the top of your forehead. "Don't worry, hon, I know now. And that's all that matters. Besides, I finally get to hold you now! And wow, does it feel like heaven!"

You buried your face in his chest and squeezed him tight. "Well, I can say for certain that you feel much better than the doll. Would you...like to stay over tonight?"

"Of course I would love," he spoke softly. "I have you in my arms now, and I don't intend on ever letting you go."

~~~~

THIS TOOK WAY TOO FUCKING LONG, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj

@bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps

@ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @pvppybun

@seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht

@heavenlyraindrops @ronniesgonerogue @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @meesachan

@rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @godsent69 @yourmom132 @liveontelevision

@luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @nayomi247 @la-undercover-latina

@yve-barr @literallurker @leviskittywh0re @thornwolfy235 @qu1cks1lversb1tch

@lauruoriii @annybah @jayyyayaysblog @sweet-radio @diffidentphantom

@sunflower-reaper @6esiree @writteninlunarlight-years

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #my writing #FUCK ME WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG #ENJOY!!!

363 notes · View notes

themeraldee · 4 months ago

Note

So the gif set of Homelander trying to surprise Stormfront got me thinking: in the same vein, what if you & Homie were in a secret relationship and while working at the tower he finds you and tells you he has a surprise for you…but unlike SF you get all giddy and go along with him, excited and touched that he wanted to surprise you with something sweet. Imagine his dumb little happy face when he sees how happy he made you. The sweet moment between you would then turn into something spicy as you thanked him for being romantic 🥵😈 that is all 😁

I love this!! you know even if she did come with him at first Stormfront would totally not appreciate the gesture as much as all of us would... just saying. But I love how much of a sap he is!!!! If he found someone who would genuinely love him and someone he would respect he'd be such a giddy, romantic cutie.

I totally wanted to write this because I need to see his gestures appreciated!!! However it turned out a little stiff - hopefully you still enjoy my humble attempt at recreating this beautiful image you painted!! (Also I focused on the romance of it so much the smut suddenly felt out of nowhere so have a smut-free fic from me for once, something I didn't think I was capable of 😂)

[Masterlist]

| 1.4k | Homelander x female!Reader | Established Relationship. Fluff.

This meeting couldn’t get any longer. You spend the entire hour taking notes, actually paying attention to what the Marketing team presents so you can implement any changes they request. That part is easy.

What’s not easy is the way you can constantly feel Homelander’s gaze on you, as if he’s undressing you with his eyes. And knowing him, that’s exactly what he’s been doing the entire meeting. Suddenly you’re glad for the matching set you chose to wear under your professional get-up.

Each day that you keep your relationship a secret he pushes the boundary, seeing how much you can take until you crack and just go public with him. Though it’s not as if he’s not been thoroughly enjoying this little secret affair you two have going on.

Normally it’s a graze of his gloved hand down your side, or he places it on your lower back as he moves past you. Plus he always gives your waist a squeeze anytime he ‘innocently’ manages to get his hands on you. He’s waiting for someone to notice. Not that anyone would dare call him out on anything. So instead he keeps on toeing the line of what’s appropriate for coworkers to see and what would border on sexual harassment, with them not knowing your relationship history.

You throw him back a few glances as if to say cut it out, but he just sends you a sly smirk. God, he’s insufferable. Strangely, a quality of his you vehemently love.

The meeting finally concludes and the rest of the attendees slip out of the room. Now that you two are the last ones in he stands behind you, hands gliding up and down your sides.

“Stop, you’re untucking my blouse.” It’s a weak complaint, your tone coloured with glee at just having his hands on you.

He leans his head forward nuzzling into the juncture of your neck, inhaling the scent of you. Tailored perfectly to his senses as it’s the same perfume he’s gifted you two weeks ago.

“Come with me, I’ve got a surprise for you.” He murmurs into your skin, the heat of his breath and the subtle vibration of his words makes your stomach flip. A surprise?

“Really? I love surprises!” You can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across your lips, pure delight filling you at the thought of him going out of his way to prepare a surprise for you.

“Good. You’re gonna love this one. Come.” He pulls away, instead wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can tug you behind him. As if you wouldn’t follow him anyway. Again, it’s just another one of his little ways to show everyone else a hint of his true claim on you.

Your office is on the same floor as the meeting room so your journey there is quick. He gently urges you in while having you face him and with a click he locks the door behind you both.

Before you even get a chance to say anything he pulls you in for a kiss. Both of his hands on your jaw, cradling you as close as he can. He kisses you like he’s been starving for it. With the way he whimpers into the kiss the one hour may as well have been a year. You’re no less enthusiastic but it always makes your knees weak at how eager he is to kiss you.

Just as you’re pulling away with a giggle, he captures your lips with a few more kisses, peppering them all over.

“You’re crazy.”

“Mhm, crazy in love maybe.” Unable to resist the redness he kissed into your lips he leans in again. This kiss is less hungry, more focused on showcasing his love for you with a tender touch.

“If this is the surprise, I am definitely not complaining.”

“Charming. But not quite.” He gives your body a little spin, facing you towards the desk in your office.

You gasp at the sight of a bursting bouquet of rich red roses already propped up and arranged in a vase. “Oh my god!” Comes out of you in surprise and with a few steps you’re right in front of them eagerly inhaling the fresh scent. Your eyes immediately flicker back up to him. “Thank you, these are so gorgeous!” You’re so excited and overtaken by the sight of the gorgeous blooms you totally miss the little card embedded towards the back of the bouquet.

You pluck it out. Your finger smooths over the nice feel of the paper as you read the note.

The pre-printed text says With Love. But right underneath there’s an added note in a very recognizable handwriting.

Happy one month anniversary.

Homelander, xo

If you told anyone how much of a romantic sap Homelander could be, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. Yet nothing fills your heart with more fondness than the ways he shows his love for you. Your eyes turn a little glassy as you softly touch where he wrote his name.

Looking up at him you notice just how unlike himself he’s turned. He’s all boyish and bashful while you take in his gift. Clearly pleased it’s having such an effect on you.

You all but run back to him throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Anything for my girl.” He’s smiling just as brightly as you did before, preening at how good of a job he’s done at making you happy.

“However, that’s not all.” He says with a mischievous raise of his eyebrows as he steps closer to your desk, retrieving a long sleek box from the first drawer. Clearly planted there by him for this exact moment.

“What? Oh no, you shouldn’t have!” You coo at the sweet gesture. He’s every bit the perfect Valentine’s ad and you’re eating it right up. You don’t care for the opulence he brings into your life, albeit it’s a very nice benefit, but you understand it’s the one way he knows how to show his love. So instead of protesting the costs you let him shower you in extravagant gifts. You’re sure at this point that the monetary value of said gifts easily exceeds your life savings.

He passes you the luxurious box for you to open up and in the meanwhile already he’s pinching the fingertips of his gloves, pulling them off.

You crack the box open, your jaw dropping at the reveal of the bracelet he got for you. It’s not just ridiculously expensive, it’s also personalized. In a cursive font, the back of the gold plate is engraved. With love, Homelander. Just like the card. Part of you wonders which one came first.

Your jaw is still dropped as you sputter in surprise and awe, eyes flickering in between the gift and him. “I have no words. Wow. I mean—for one it’s beautiful!” You’re mesmerized by how the embedded diamonds on the front of the bracelet reflect the artificial light of your office.

“I’m glad you like it. May I?” He asks but without waiting for an answer he plucks the bracelet from its cushion, discarding the box on your desk.

Nodding you put your arm out, pulling a little at your sleeve to expose your wrist better. With his bare hands he puts the two ends of the bracelet around your wrist. Clasping the dainty chain that holds the slim engraved plate together.

You stare at it in reverence but it’s not the glittering diamonds that have your attention. No. It’s the cold metal pressing against your wrist. His engraved name sits against your skin like a brand. Now you can carry him with you wherever you want. A physical reminder that you’re his. Right against your wrist. You don’t even realize what face you’re pulling. But from the way he’s looking back at you it’s gotta be a good one. The look on his face just tells you that he’d buy the entire store if it meant you’d crack a smile half as bright as the one you’re gracing him with now.

You let out a stuttered little breath. “I love it. I love you.” You say with such honesty and rawness it catches him off guard. You’re the first person who’s ever been so genuine with their feelings towards him. There’s never been any hidden agenda. You’re not trying to butter him up just to get a favor out of him. You’re as genuine as it gets. A quality of yours he finds invaluable.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing them against your soft skin. He places a second kiss right next to where the bracelet sits.

No matter what he knows that for him you wear your heart on your sleeve and now his name on your wrist.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss @hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood

#been struggling to get into the writing mindset recently so this ain't great but I'm trying to get those writing muscles working again!!!#so this was good practice #I need to write more fluff #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction #asks!#fic request

304 notes · View notes

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 9 months ago

Text

Thinking about bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara who was assigned to watch over you from your manager after finally getting your big break with the last movie you starred in. Despite not being the main character, people still adored yours. Your name trending on twitter along with the rest of the cast.

Bodyguard!Miguel who intimidated the ever living shit out of you. Towering over you and your manager at 6’9 as he introduced him to you for the first time. Miguel staring straight ahead as your manager told you his experience, hands clasped behind his back, no emotion present on his face. Not even a crack of a smile when you joked about having scary dog privileges now, just an unassumed grunt and a deadpan glance at you.

Bodyguard!Miguel who would follow you everywhere when you would step out of the house. Never saying anything more than a handful of words, grunting and tsking more than talking, using his body language to communicate instead. Raising a brow is a silent ask if someone is bothering you, scrunching his nose as a way to decline your offer to get him something every time you get a coffee at the studio lot’s cafe. (You’ll still ask him every time despite him always saying no.) The first time he spoke a full sentence to you, you had to resist letting out a gasp.

Bodyguard!Miguel who wouldn’t admit it, but he almost let a smirk surface on his lips when he saw you freaking out over the phone when you were both out. Your manager Jake had called you during your daily walk when he dropped the bomb that you were going to get the female lead for a new movie you auditioned for a few weeks ago. Finding it endearing how you were practically buzzing with excitement on the rest of your walk.

Bodyguard!Miguel who almost beat up some random intern who kept hitting on you, despite you making it very clear you weren’t interested when you had arrived on your first day on set for the table read/ first cast meet up.

—

“Here’s your script, I’ll show you towards the reading room.” Said the young twenty-something old, as he handed you the script before nodding towards the corridor of the backlot, you thanked him and followed behind him, Miguel trailing along as well. Not missing the way the guy had eyed you up and down.

“I really liked you in your last movie, you're really funny.” He quipped as he turned to look over his shoulder to look at you, slowing down his steps until he was matching your pace. You just gave him another smile and took a sip of your iced coffee before speaking.

“Oh, thank you! That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah, um… hey if you weren’t busy after this, I was wondering if you wanted to go get lunch.”

“Oh… um, I’m good, thank you though.” You wanted to be nice, but you weren’t really looking for anything at the moment, wanting to focus on your career. Your response didn’t seem to satisfy the intern though. You can tell by the way his brows scrunched together for a second in irritation before the expression fell back to a nonchalant one.

“Come onnn, I know this really good burger spot downtown-“

“I’m okay-“

“Do you not want burgers? We can get sushi or-“

“Umm-“

“She said she’s good.” Miguel’s hardened voice always sent a shiver down your spine, having to take a step back when he put himself between you and the shorter male, if looks could kill…

“Lo-look man… I-I’m not trying to cause any trouble.” The cocky attitude immediately vanished from the intern, his hands now shaky as they were raised in a defensive manner.

“How about you just show her where she has to go hmm?” It wasn’t a suggestion.

Needless to say he didn’t speak another peep to you the rest of the walk.

—

Part 2<

Not proofread.

Word count: 600

taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf (if you want to be added for part two, click here)

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel ohara blurb #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 blurb #bodyguard!Miguel #Miguel O’Hara x reader

701 notes · View notes

littlerequiem · 3 months ago

Text

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 2

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Descriptions of the Rumbling (WC: 7k)

( Previous chapter / Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

It’s past curfew when you catch a glimpse of Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary. He's been coming up here this past week, though this is the first time you approach him.

“You gonna tell anyone?” Levi asks. He’s playing with a small pocket knife, twirling it in his hand.

You consider his question. No doubt Erwin would want to know about his new gamble sneaking away from the barracks every evening. Then again, knowing Erwin, he might already know and chooses to just let it slide anyway.

You lean your weight over the edge of the window sill, gazing at the way moonlight crowns Levi's hair. “Are you going to hurt anyone with that knife?”

Levi's eyes twinkle in the night. “What, just because I’m from the Underground means I’m gonna stab someone?”

“Actually,” you say carefully, “I was more worried about you hurting yourself.”

His eyes lose their fire; he focuses back on his knife. “I won’t.”

Freedom—it is the ability to glimpse at endless blue skies; it is horse riding until dusk; it is choices and opinions and being able to voice them.

These days, Levi takes it for granted, his freedom. He’s an ungrateful asshole like that.

If the people from his childhood would hear him now, they would spit in his face. Try to beat him to a pulp. Here he is, lacking gratitude, when some poor lowlife was born and died in that shit hole that was the Underground.

Levi hears that the Underground doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve told him that the Rumbling caused earthquakes to fracture the ground, that much of the subterranean city has been buried under. There were some casualties, of course, but the worst could be avoided since Queen Historia had ordered a gradual evacuation years prior.

Levi wonders if the people now discovering life above ground still have violence in their blood the way he once did when he first saw the sun.

“Levi, where is your secret tea stash?”

Your question muffles over the sound of the kettle groaning awake on the gas stove, blending with the sound of waves crashing outside. It tears him right out of his thoughts and away from the headline he'd been reading: 'More than 75% of refugees in Marley now rehoused, much work still remains in the mental aftermath of the war'.

Levi has been up for several hours now, breakfast long since consumed. You, on the other hand, just got up, the whisks of sleep still present in your cadence, in the corners of your eyes. An anomaly to be sure—Levi remembers you being an early riser, but he supposes that habits, just like people, change.

“Why would I have a secret tea stash?”

You yawn, a hand covering your mouth. “Well... you always had a secret tea stash, didn't you?”

“To hide from cadets and their grubby fingers. I’m all alone here.”

“Mm." You shrug, words a little slurred. "You could still want to hide a thing or two from me.”

“Then I wouldn’t tell ya where it was, would I?” Levi leans one elbow over the kitchen table, chin lazily resting on the center of his palm. His index finally pokes out to give directions. “S’on the left side, second cupboard.”

Your gaze follows his directive, only to look at him with a slightly more straight posture. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You stick your tongue out, like a damn child. “Words. They help.”

Levi refrains from rolling his eyes. He watches you open the cupboard, grabbing the tin of loose tea leaves.

On the chair next to him, Scout is curled up and fast asleep. The kitten's muzzle scrunches as she dreams.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to drink this?”

Levi's eyes flicker back towards you. You're facing him, looking uncertainly at the tea.

“Yeah," he says.

"But isn't this special? Isn't this tea from Paradis?"

It is tea from Paradis, courtesy of Armin. It's one of Levi's last boxes, in fact. He knows he'll eventually run out of it, and while he supposes he could ask for more of it, he thinks his taste buds will just need to adapt to something else. That's just the way life goes.

"You know," he mutters, "if you’re gonna be like this about every little thing around the house, it's gonna get tiring real fast.”

You focus on the tea preparation, turning away from him. “I’m just being polite."

“Why? You never bothered before."

"Ouch. Harsh.”

"S'not," Levi mumbles, running a hand through his hair. It’s freshly washed, still a bit damp. "I mean, no need to act all fake and shit."

"Okay... but this isn't like life in the Survey Corps. This is your house."

His house. Levi doesn't know if he should be more possessive about these things, the way he's seen some townspeople be with their possessions, but Levi's just never been one to care about these things. He never has.

Levi flips his newspaper to the next page. "So long as you keep the place clean, I don’t care about the rest."

“You don’t care?”

You've turned back in his direction, and his eyes meet yours. There's a spark in your gaze.

Oh you’re taunting him.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. "Drill this into your head, Adler: anything that’s mine is yours, so just treat this place as such.”

That seems to shut you right up. You blink with a dumbfounded expression, apparently startled by his (accidental, Levi swears it was accidental) turn of phrasing. It’s soon replaced by words uttered beneath your breath, words Levi doesn’t quite grasp because his own ears are whistling. He returns his attention back to the newspaper, attempting to shrug off the weight of the innuendo.

Anything that’s mine is yours. What a stupid thing to say. That almost sounded like a confession or some shit. One day in, and Levi's already screwing up with his words.

For the next minute, Levi tries his damn best to focus on his newspaper.

“Getting her beauty rest, huh?” Levi looks up; you're placing two cups of tea on the table, one pushed towards him, along with a plate for the infusers. You're eying Scout. “She seems glued to your side,” you muse, sitting down.

“Kittens sleep a lot,” Levi supplies lamely.

“In any case, it’s cute to see the two of you together.”

Levi turns the handle of his cup to his left side. “Please.”

“Can you imagine what everyone would say? The fearless Captain Levi, succumbing to a cat—”

"Quit talking and just drink your tea, would you?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “Aye, aye, captain."

For a moment, silence does fall, and his peripheral catches your chest rising and falling, something oddly quaint and peaceful about witnessing your breathing. You take to staring outside the window, looking at the view of the sea glimmering in the distance. He follows your line of sight, noting that there’s a buildup of crusted salt around the windows; Levi should really clean it off before summer ends.

“Hey, so,” you interrupt after a while, “I was thinking of going to the market today. Get a few things. Maybe find a job.”

Levi locks eyes with you. “A job?”

“Mm. Yeah. Something that makes sense for me...”

You want to get back to the medical field, already? You just got here.

“Why the hurry?"

“Well…" you say, "I don’t want to leech off you forever—”

“You're not.”

“Still, it'd be good for me, right?” You shoot a bright smile—something too bright about it. Levi's eyes narrow. “Anyway, you wanna join or what? You know... I’d love to meet all the nosy people you’ve told me about.”

Levi purses his lips, feeling as though you glossed over that subject much too quickly. A part of him wants to nudge you a bit, though his usual habit to just let you be kicks in. Whatever you're hiding, you have your reasons.

Levi considers your proposal. He knows it would be better if he didn’t join, seeing how damn foolish he’s already acting around you. He should try to set clear boundaries with you.

And yet—

“Sure,” comes out of him all the same.

Well, so much for that, anyway.

“You flew.”

You stand there, staring at the sight of the man as he finishes his round of training.

Levi shoots you a look, grappling with the hand grips. “I’m just using the ODM gear correctly.”

You take a step towards him. “No, but you’re amazing. You must know that, right? I’m not a soldier, but… I know talent when I see it.”

He gives you an odd look then, and before you have a chance to say anything else, propels himself in the air and disappears into the shadows of the forest.

At the market, Levi follows you around like a brooding shadow.

He’s in his wheelchair today. Behind him, you’re pushing him and asking questions about the scenery and the people and all sorts of trivial things.

(“Look, look there, all these teas. Have you tried any of them?”

“Some.”)

(“I'm gonna buy some flowers to plant in the gardens. Is that alright?”

“Do what you want.”)

(“Is the sea always as pretty?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, there's shit that gets carried in.”

"How poetic.")

(“Look, Levi! A car.”

“It looks dangerous.”

“I think I’d like to try driving. Get over my fear, you know?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Hey, give me some credit! S’not so different from riding a horse, right?”

“You’ve got a few screws loose up there, you know that?”)

Well, Levi was never great at talking. Not that you seem to mind; you’ve always liked to ask him questions and fill in the blanks when needed. Most of the time, it’s the silence that sits comfortably between the two of you that Levi appreciates so much anyway. It just is, like a soft cloud fills the sky with shapes.

You're now moving next to him, calmly taking in the sight of the buzzing market. It's a little too busy for Levi's liking, but the sight of you distracts him: you’re wearing a sunhat with ribbons, coupled with your cotton overalls. Levi’s never seen you wear a hat like this one before, but he thinks it suits you.

“You should protect your skin from the sun,” you said earlier. “That’s why I wear a hat.”

“I didn’t come to the surface to run away from the sun,” he grumbled back, even if he did notice how warm summers in Marley truly are (and yes, he’d gotten sunburned on several occasions, and also yes, his injured eye stings every time the sun shines too brightly... but, still, Levi wouldn’t budge).

“Good morning, dear boy! What a surprise to see you here!” someone says, tearing Levi out of the thoughts.

Attached to that booming voice is none other than Levi's boss, Adam Jakowski.

Originally an Eldian from Marley, Mr Jakowski was one of the first residents that settled here in Mare. He quickly opened his carpentry shop, and when Levi moved in, he found a job there.

Today, however, Mr Jakowski isn't here for any carpentry-related trades. Every week-end, the man likes to come here and share the goods his wife makes.

"What brings you here?" Mr Jakowski asks.

“I was dragged out, believe it or not,” Levi answers, head bobbing towards you.

Next to him, he hears you snort.

“And who might this pretty young lady be? Are you the missus Ackerman, perchance?” Mr Jakowski asks, his tone carrying a curiosity only people genuinely interested in others are capable of mustering.

Levi feels his cheeks burn at the idea, but you just chuckle, swatting a hand in the air to dispel the notion. “No such thing, sir. But I am new to town and it pleases me all the same to make your acquaintance. Miss Adler, charmed to meet you.”

Levi’s thin brows knit together. It’s the first time he hears you introduce yourself without your profession tied in.

Miss Adler. Not Dr Adler.

Strange.

“Well met, Miss Adler… Well met, indeed! Ah, it is a pleasure to see new faces in Mare, especially a lovely one such as yours. Will you be staying here for a while?”

“Mm. Who knows?” You smile. “I can’t quite say yet, to tell the truth.”

Levi’s throat suddenly feels a little thick.

“Anyway, what are you selling here, sir?” you ask, peering over the stall of the merchant, gazing at all the products and zeroing on a particular one: a red paste.

“The one you're eying is a paste from the eastern part of Marley, ma'am. It’s made with paprika and bell-peppers, you see. Great for inflammations and stomach issues,” the old man explains. He makes you smell it, then turns around to sprinkle it onto something. “You can coat it like so,” he raises a piece of bread that he smears with the red paste, “or add it to your cooking.”

He hands you the toast.

You bite into it, chewing for several moments as you raise a hand over your mouth. “Walls! It does have such a particular taste. It’s the aftertaste, right? Spicy.”

Your eyes wander to meet Levi’s, and you raise the bread slightly in his direction as if to inquire if he wants to taste it as well. Levi shakes his head, and you shoot him a smile, gulping down the rest of the food.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, drumming his left index in a series of five taps over his forearm—tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Next to him, he hears the way you engage in easy conversation, talking about the weather, how the region has adjusted to the influx of settlers, how you're looking for a job and how, yes, you’d love to meet his wife and daughter!

The rest flies over his head. Instead, Levi looks up at your sunhat again, admiring the way it hugs the shape of your skull, the way the ribbons flow gently with the breeze.

Levi wonders if he could buy you a hat. Or sew you a new ribbon. Would you accept his gifts?

At last, you seem convinced of the product and order three jars. This is the moment when Levi comes back to his senses, seeing you rummage through your pockets to find coins to pay for your purchase.

No such luck.

Levi beats you to it, slinging out the leather pouch his first squad gifted him many years ago, placing the change in Mr Jakowski's hands.

You blink, mouth parted, but Levi just plops the jars he receives into your bag, wheeling himself back.

He hears you fumble your goodbyes to Mr Jakowski, thanking him for his help, and at once, your voice is in his ears.

“Levi, why did you just pay?” you ask, tone bewildered.

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

“I’m not." You stop in front of him, all stern-looking, hands on your hips. "You didn’t have to do that.”

Levi raises a defiant brow. “But I did, and it’s done.”

“Don’t make it sound so simple. You’re already letting me stay in your house for free. I intend to pay my dues, you know. I have money.”

“I'm sure you do.”

“You—”

“Complain again and I won’t let you pay for a damn thing.”

You close your mouth, glaring at him.

Levi swears he hears something along the lines of ‘I’ll just sneak it back into your pockets later’ whispered under your breath, but when he narrows his eyes in your direction, you feign a look of innocence.

After purchasing everything you wanted to purchase—a book on art, flower beds for the garden—you finally settle in a cozy little café on the town’s square. You order some pastries, while Levi takes his usual tea, the closest thing that resembles the tea from back home. You watch people from everywhere bustle by while Levi sips on his drink.

“Hey, look!” you point out suddenly. “I’ve never seen those birds before.”

You've pointed to a flock of birds of all colors, no larger than a fist. They’re hopping on the ground, scavenging for food. You get up, asking for some seeds from a waiter to feed them.

“Why did they migrate to this part of the world?” you wonder as you lay out food for them.

Levi doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the birds, nibbling the seeds, admiring the way their feathers seem foreign in this strange land.

Maybe, Levi thinks to himself, just like all the rest of this town, the birds were looking for a new home.

“You know, you should try to teach them.”

Levi’s bored expression swerves in your direction. You’re back to leaning on the window sill, while he sits on the rooftop. A routine, these last weeks.

“What?” Levi mutters.

“Your combat skills. I saw you at training again. I’ve never seen anything quite like the way you handle yourself. You should teach the other cadets.”

His eyes narrow. “Why would I do that?”

“You’ve been out there, right? Seen what the titans are like? You could save their lives.”

The square of Mare is quiet at this time of the evening. A half-moon hangs lazily over the black sky, casting its silver glow over Mare.

You’ve both been drinking. Cheap, bubbly, acidic. Cremant, a drink native to Marley. It was given to you by a shopkeeper when you picked up bread earlier—all it took was seeing you by his side and hearing you were new in town. The woman practically threw the bottle at you, offering it as a welcome gift. You tried to refuse, many times over, but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer (“We need young blood around, so anythin’ to convince younglings like yourself to settle down!”).

Now, here you are, finishing the bottle together in a park. Levi sits with you on a bench, his wheelchair tucked behind it.

Silence.

Levi thinks there’s something on your mind. You’ve never been easy to read; you’ve got a tendency to hide and scheme, to play it off like it’s no big deal, but it’s always your lips that give you away. You bite them when you’re worried, you pout when you’re deep in thoughts.

“Hey.” Levi raises your attention, only to find gentle eagerness on your face. It makes him frown for some reason. “Say something.”

You seem a little taken aback by his directive. It’s rare for Levi to actually seek conversation after all, much less to be the one initiating it.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask.

Levi shrugs. “I don’t know, just anything.”

“Like… what?”

Levi mulls it over. If it were him, he’d hate to be put on the spot and asked outright what to say. So he decides to try a tactic he’s seen you use on others—starting with something light before finding the right angle to tackle the actual subject.

“What was your favorite sight?” he inquires. “On your travels.”

“My… favorite sight?”

Levi gives you a look that makes it clear he’s not gonna repeat himself.

“The sea, of course.” You raise your feet on the bench, hugging your knees as you stare off pensively. “It’s funny, really. With every nation we visited, we saw mountains, deserts and forests… but I kept coming back to the sea.”

Levi remembers the first time he saw the sea. The water, glimmering like thousands of silver gems. The blue sky, coming to meet its shine. The 104th brats, with awestruck wonder. Hange and their brazen curiosity.

And you, the way you’d looked at him…

If ever there was a moment of peace during Levi’s years as a soldier, it was those blissful hours spent by the sea. It felt like the world had grown so big, and that there was only wonder to be discovered.

Of course, reality had caught up.

“I’m glad you’ve picked a place like this one to settle down,” you say. "It kind of feels like a homecoming, you know?"

"Yeah."

“The stars are so bright out here.”

Levi follows your line of sight.

This past year, Levi has rediscovered an admiration for stars. Back inside the Walls, they reminded him of Isabel and Furlan, of his dreams from another life. This past year, they’ve started making him think of you, too.

All because of one of your letters: 'Levi, do you ever think about the fact that, despite the distance that separates us, every night, when we look at the sky, we see the same stars?'

“What else,” he finds himself asking, “what else do you have to say about your travels?”

“Hmm… what do you want to know exactly? I wrote so much in my letters, I’d have thought you’d be tired of hearing about that topic.”

“Yeah, but you only described random shit. What was it like?”

What was it like without me?

That thought hangs on his tongue, begs for relief, but Levi bites it down. It’s not right for him to ask; it's none of his business.

And yet, your answer still takes him by surprise, “It was… hard.”

At that, Levi does raise a brow. He finds your gaze already on him.

“The sights were... nice, of course,” you explain. “I got to witness all manners of landscapes. Those were the photographs I sent you in my letters. But then, well, the rest came.”

You swallow loudly. Levi finds his heart squeezing, though he doesn’t fully understand why.

“Seeing the aftermath of the Rumbling…” Your lower lip quivers as the volume of your tone decreases. “It was horrifying. The emptiness was the worst. It’s not like murdering someone in cold blood, see. There, you have to deal with bodies. But, what Eren did…”

You shudder. Levi thinks you’re trying to even out your breathing, and a part of him wants to reach out to you and squeeze your hand. And yet, he knows there’s nothing he can do to really alleviate those images flashing in your brain. That nothing he does can make it right again, that the pain you feel is the cost both of you need to bear for the rest of your lives.

“After that, I went with Armin because I knew he would need help, because I always believed in diplomacy… because I still believe in it. Even now," you say. "But many nations hate the Eldians from Paradis. They hate us and maybe they have every right to hate us.”

You stop talking and close your eyes. For a while, the lull in conversation allows Levi to stare at you unabashedly, to commit your features to memory.

“Why did you never say any of this in your letters?” he asks mid-silence.

“I guess it felt easier not to mention it. I don’t know. I wanted you to hear hopeful things in my letters.”

“I’ve seen how shitty the world can be.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why.” Your eyes somehow find his own again. “That’s why I didn’t want you to know it’s still the same out there.”

It makes Levi’s blood rush, like he was some breakable thing that needed to be protected. “You don’t need to coddle me.”

And yet, you don’t even seem to notice the snap in his tone, your crossed arms tightening around your knees.

“I know, Levi,” you whisper. “But that doesn’t mean that my pain is your burden to bear.”

Seeing your deflated expression, dipped chin resting over your knees as you lose yourself to your thoughts, Levi’s defense mechanism fizzles away.

That’s the thing about you.

No matter how harshly he reacts, you never seem to rise to the same level as him, the way others did in the military, and it might be why Levi always found it easier to stay by your side.

“You dumbass,” he says with a sigh. Despite telling himself to hone it back, Levi can’t help but raise a hand to the back of your skull, ruffling your head gently—the only comfort he knows how to hand out right now. “Of course that’s my burden.”

The knot in your throat bobs. “Levi, you don’t—”

“Don’t give me that.” He pauses, the words heavy on his tongue. “Even I no longer have the rank to prove it… what does it matter? Nothing’s changed.”

Your voice comes out grated. “Nothing’s changed?”

Levi hesitates. So much hangs on this question. Of course, things have changed.

And yet…

Levi retreats his hand, patting his stiff leg. “Some things did.”

“Oh... does it still hurt a lot?”

“Some days more than others. The doctor has helped.”

“I’m glad. Are you still seeing him every other week?”

He nods.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

Levi's eyes narrow. “You said that already.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He sighs, shaking his head. “Anyway, you gonna tell me why you stopped calling yourself a doctor?”

Different degrees of surprise flash across your face. Your eyes are wide as saucers, while your mouth stays slightly open.

Levi waits... and waits.

“Hey, you’re not trying to catch flies, are you?” he says, lifting a finger to poke at your chin.

His physical reminder seems to bring you back to the present.

At once, a pout forms on your lips. “How did you know I no longer want to be a doctor?”

Levi shrugs with one arm, pressing his back against the bench. “I guessed, and you just confirmed it.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly." You let out a wry snort, shaking your head. "Should have known; you’re always so perceptive.”

“And you’re beating around the bush.”

“Indeed, I am. It’s just… I’m scared of your judgment.”

At that, Levi has to frown.

“Don’t give me that look, Levi Ackerman. Your judgment, yes. You’re a very scary man, just not for all the reasons people think you are.”

In the distance, the sound of seagulls drifts from the skies.

“When I asked you if I could come here…” you say after a moment, “I kept on thinking to myself: What will Levi think of me?” You raise one hand to your face, glancing at the scar that runs from your index to the lower part of your palm—a memento left by the Yaegerists. “What will he think of this hand?”

Levi stays silent.

Your smile turns bitter. “You always said my hands were made for healing. But after everything that happened, everything we did, they’re not anymore. They can’t be.”

“Hey—”

“—and the question kept playing in a loop in my head. Will Levi think I’m a coward? Will he think less of me for giving up on this? Is he gonna be done with me?”

Levi ignores all the ways you seem to include him in your insecurities and focuses on one thing only: “You’re a lot of things but a coward isn’t one of them.”

You shake your head. “But I am a coward. I don’t have it in me to heal people, not like that anymore.”

Levi doesn’t know why, but there’s suddenly a sense of dread forming in his pit of his stomach. “Is that why you’re here?”

Your eyes fire back on him. “No, I didn’t come here to escape, or as a last resort.” You glance away. “But I do feel… lost.”

That makes Levi backtrack. You? Lost? The doctor who blazed through the Survey Corps’ ranks, making her demands known to the Interior and Erwin like it was no big deal, who pushed for changes to save soldiers' lives?

That doesn’t align with the person he knows.

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, the path I chose.” Your tone is suddenly more frail, more vulnerable. “The first three years after the Rumbling, it felt like the right thing to do, giving my skills in helping others but now… Now I feel like a fraud. To arrive here, I had to end lives.”

Levi’s throat is heavy. “We all did.”

You ignore his words. “The attack in Trost, the one in Liberio, and so many others…. I killed people there. I did. And I remember your words, Levi, about it being us or them but I… now, whenever I look at my hands, all I see is the stain of blood. After all of that, I just don’t think I’m fit to call myself a doctor anymore.”

“You shouldn’t regret the past.”

“Maybe. But it's easier said than done.”

“Is that why you’re now calling yourself Miss Adler?”

You nod.

Levi purses his lips. He cannot understand your perspective, not truly, because his own moral compass has never been set right. To him, killing was always about survival and there was never good or bad. There simply was the act and the aftermath. There was the fact that he needed to keep on pushing, for humanity.

Despite this, Levi wants to understand. He wants to tell you that your hands did heal, that they continue to heal in invisible ways. He wants to tell you that however you want to become want, it’s all fine to him.

“Then start over,” he declares, throwing an arm to the back of the bench.

“Yeah.” You snort, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric of your overalls. “It’s not that easy, starting over, is it?”

“Never said it was.” Levi would know. It’s not like he’s here to preach the moral high ground. “But if you want to, you’re the only one that can make it happen.”

“Yeah, I know.” You raise a hand to press against your right eye. Levi has the strange urge to tuck it away, to take it in between his own, but he holds himself back. “It’s just… hard. You know, when we were fighting titans, then humans, then nations… I just never considered who I would be after all of it. And when I found myself trying, I found I wasn’t the person I once was, that I couldn’t do what I would have done any more. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“Old me would have kept on going. Old me would have continued to heal people and traveled and helped Armin with peace negotiations. And I tried. Walls, I tried, Levi. But at the end of the day, I just find myself… tired. I’m just so tired.”

Something heavy fills Levi’s chest. He understands, to a degree, what you’re going through. He knew his role was over the moment that the fighting stopped, but for you, the war hasn’t stopped raging—conflicted on where your place should be.

“Sorry," you say, "I know I’m wallowing here, that I’m throwing my own pity party. But, shit, it’s hard, you know?”

“Yeah. But it’s fine, to wallow. No one expects you not to have setbacks.”

“You don’t mean that. Weren’t you always telling soldiers not to linger and look back? Besides, I don’t get to say any of this in front of you. Not with everything you went through.”

Levi’s jaw clenches. “Hey. It’s not a competition.”

This time, he reaches for your hand and unclasps it, noticing you digging your nails into your skin. He forces you to squeeze his hand instead—only, now, you treat him with such care, not even applying pressure.

Levi takes it as his cue to drive his point home, “I only said what I said because a Scout’s life was a battlefield every day. But we’re not soldiers anymore.”

He sucks in a breath at those words; he realizes it’s the first time he acknowledges it out loud: We're not soldiers anymore. Levi's a hypocrite, saying these things, when he himself hasn’t let go completely. And yet, for your sake, he wants to pretend—he wants to pretend that there’s a way out for the both of you.

“So I’ve told you, the offer still stands," he adds. "You can stay here for as long as you want."

“Careful what you promise, Levi." You snort. "I’m going to be a real burden to you.”

“Only when you don’t clean.”

Your weak snicker turns into laughter. It might be the most enchanting of sounds Levi’s heard in a long while.

Levi lets go of your hand, despite the fact that he wishes he could hold on, but he tells himself that friends don’t hold each other’s hands for prolonged moments. And that's what the two of you are. Friends.

“You know, when it came down to it… after months of introspection,” you say, voice soft, “all I knew is that I wanted to be near you.”

Oh.

“I stayed away for a year, thinking I could prove to myself, to you, that I wasn’t the needy person I once was," you say. "That I could, I don’t know, manage on my own. But all I got was… how much I missed you.”

Levi thinks his breathing might have stopped entirely.

“Levi, you’re… you’re important to me. You know that, right?” Your eyes find his own, glimmering under the moonlight. “I think… I just don’t want to not have you in my life anymore. Is that a strange thing to say?”

Levi is speechless. He stares at your lips, how plump and lovely they seem, glistening with moisture. He feels sweat on his back—damn this hellish warm weather—and he thinks perhaps he should act.

He forces his mouth open but instead of words—

Bang.

An explosion blasts in his ears.

Levi screws his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact. There’s screams echoing in the back of his skull, bullets ricocheting against concrete. He smells the charred scent of bodies, sweet and off-putting.

But the fighting never comes. When he evens out his breathing, leaning his weight onto the bench, he notices—

You’re on the floor.

Your hands are covering your ears, your lower lip wobbling. You’re muttering things under your breath, things Levi can’t recognize, but there’s tears brimming the corner of your eyes, and Levi realizes then what happened.

You’re hyperventilating.

At once, Levi is by your side, bending down. The action causes his legs to scream in pain, but he promptly ignores it. He sees you and only you.

You, on the other hand, are unable to look at him; you whimper erratically.

Levi can deduce the source of your panic, because he’s had his own moments like this. It’s the way certain noises, smells, and others pull him back into the past. It must be the same for you.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice comes low and clear, trying to muster it all for you, “take a deep breath. It's not guns. Just fireworks some teenagers are toying with.”

But you seem unable to follow his advice, shaken as you are. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears clumping, streaming thick down the valleys of your cheeks. He sees your fingers pull at the strands of your hair.

Before he can think about it, his arms reach out of you, looping around the small of your back, where he draws you in. He presses you firmly against him. At first, you attempt to fight him back, muttering “no, no, no,” beneath your breath, but when Levi finally manages to smooth over your words with his own, you stop fighting.

Your head slumps down into the crest of his shoulder, like you were just a ragdoll gone limp. Levi tries to ignore the way his worry doubles down.

“Adler, listen to my voice,” he urges, trying to use things that have helped him during his worst panic attacks, during his worst episodes. Of course, Levi never allowed anyone to see him like this, but if he had, he thinks this would have helped. “Your ear’s pressed against my heart right now. Do you hear my heartbeat?”

“Y-yeah,” you answer, voice barely a raw whisper. The sound is enough to shatter something in Levi. It’s so small, so fragile.

“Focus on it," he says. "Focus on me speaking. Pretend that it’s the only sound in the world.”

You seem to attempt to laugh, but it comes across as another nervous sob, hiccups strangling your words. “S-someone thinks h-ighly of his v-voice.”

Levi just clicks his tongue, tightening his hold on you.

Your hands interweave with the collar of his shirt, and you bury your face deeper into his neck. It takes several moments, but he feels the tension in your spine untangle, vertebrate by vertebrate.

“Steady,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You’re alright.”

Your warm lips, drenched with tears, move against his neck. “I just can’t do it, ‘Vi… I just can’t.”

“You can.”

“I’m fucking stuck and I feel so guilty there’s always noises in my brain…” A sob cracks out of you. “I’m so fucking lost.”

“But you’re not alone.”

Your knuckles tighten, but your breath falters.

“You’re not alone,” Levi repeats. His three-fingered hand weaves through the hair at the back of your skull, mingling between your locks. He’s reminded of another time, long ago, when he did this after Nanaba died. “Even if you feel lost right now.”

“I just—I don’t want to be a bother. I don't want to overstay my w-welcome.”

“You’re not. You can stay as long as you want.” Until you grow tired of me. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You’re still hiccuping for air as you draw away from him. You seem to be searching for something, dazed and blurry.

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask.

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

"I... I guess not."

For a while, neither Levi nor you say anything else. He watches as your eyes cast down, eyelashes still full of tears. Your breath is back to being steady, though no less frail.

Eventually, your digits settle over his forearms, looking back at him with puffy eyes.

He offers you his clean handkerchief from his breast pocket.

You take it with a crooked smile, staring down at the white cloth. “Thank you, Levi. I mean it.”

Levi looks away; he doesn't think he's done much.

“Walls.” You hiccup, lifting the handkerchief to your eyes. “I’ve made a scene, haven’t I? It’s the alcohol, I s-swear. I barely d-drink these days.”

“You were always a lightweight.”

“Pff, don’t remind me.”

“Well, judging by the brats walking towards us," he looks over your shoulders, "they’ve come to apologize.”

Sure enough, moments later, as you help Levi up and you both sit back down on the bench, three snotty kids approach the scene with a look of apology plastered on their faces.

One of them, a boy with vibrant ginger hair, takes the lead. “Ma’am… are you alright?”

You sniffle, eyes still red. “Fine—”

“She’s not fine, brat,” Levi interjects. “Don’t light this shit up in public.”

The boy grimaces with the kind of juvenile innocence only kids can muster.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say, giving Levi a look. “But hey, do try to be careful, ‘kay? Don’t light up things like this all on your own. Fireworks are dangerous, not to mention they’re scary when they’re up so close.”

“I... I won't do it no more, ma’am…" the boy says. "I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s alright. You couldn’t have known.”

The boy nods before finally fleeting up and meeting Levi's glare. The child instantly cowers back.

“Mistakes happen," Levi grumbles with a softer tone. "Just be more careful.”

“Y-yeah, mister. Won’t happen again.”

"Good."

Erwin finds you in the stables one day. “Levi is integrating with the squad.”

You stop cleaning your horse, raising a brow at the man. “Is he now?”

“Mm." There's wistful amusement on Erwin's face. "He's giving advice to his comrades.”

"Is that right?"

That night, when you greet Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary, you don't say a thing about this exchange, but you'll smile just a bit brighter at him anyway.

Levi comes back from his evening shower to find something waiting for him in his bedroom. A piece of paper, carefully folded in three, is placed on his cabinet. Next to it is a medium-sized, black pouch.

Levi first unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find that it’s a letter and that it’s from you.

Levi, You’ll excuse me for coming in without asking, but you insinuated I should make myself comfortable, so… Here I am. You know, if you're going to let me pay for things, then it’s decided: I’m going to bribe you with new tea! No, you can’t fight me on that. As you know, I’m a force of nature—unstoppable. Here’s a new blend for you. I know for certain you haven’t tried this one because it’s straight from my travels. I don’t know why I waited a week to give it to you, but I hope you like it. Your amazing new roomie, - A.

Levi’s lips twitch. He can just picture you scribbling those words in your room, a grin on your face, waiting for him to take a shower just so you can place this handout in secret.

He briefly puts the letter back down, moving to open the gift. The black pouch hides a tea tin of simple design, with an etiquette that’s handwritten. White pu-erh tea. He slowly unscrews the sealed top, bringing it close to his nose to inhale its potent fragrant. Tea aromas, rich in citrus, fill his brain with a lovely buzzing effect. It smells nice, unlike anything he’s encountered before and Levi thinks its taste will be to his liking—that you picked it knowing it would.

His eyes stray back to the letter, picking it back up. He loves the way you write his name, the way you loop the letters together. It's elegant.

With his heart just a bit lighter than usual, Levi adds your letter to the chest under his bed, filled with the rest of your correspondence.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I was really touched by all the engagement the first chapter got, truly, so thank you for that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hey, if you have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts in any shape or form! Take care <3

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

264 notes · View notes

poemsforchan · 10 months ago

Text

DO IT LIKE THAT

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you live a cliché with your coworker and you just happened to have a crush on him. luckily he seems to feel the same.

requested: by anon -> Is it possible to get a coworker! Chan smut?where he and the reader have to share a bed and he’s really nervous because he likes her. He’s definitely a sub for her and asks her to choke him because it’s one of his fantasies.

warnings: NSFW, oral (male receiving), choking but nothing too serious, chan is a tiny bit submissive but not much, afab reader but no use of female pronouns

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You are stressed.

Stress is a feeling you are used to and is very much present in your day to day life but you don’t know the last time you felt it to this intensity.

The company you worked at had asked you and another employee to go to a meeting a few cities away. Driving back would be too tiring so you were tasked with getting two hotel rooms for the night, something you had to do multiple times in the past. You assured Chris, your coworker, that everything would be taken care of. You scheduled the entirety of the trip from the second you stepped out of your apartment to the moment you got back the day after. Everything seemed fine.

It wasn't.

After a long drive - in which Chris refused to let you switch places and drive for a bit so he could rest - and a boring meeting, you finally reach the hotel; just to find out you only had booked one room. Apparently, your sleep-deprived self forgot to change the room numbers from one to two when booking on the website and you had been so busy that you didn't stop once to confirm if everything was okay before the trip. Because of some concert happening in town, there weren't available rooms and you were presented with a choice: you either suck it up and share a bed with your attractive coworker or you deal with a long car ride back, meaning you would get home by dawn. Objectively, you should choose the second option. You are not working tomorrow so you could simply sleep all day. Going home would prevent having the awkward “do you want me to sleep on the floor?” discussion and it would most definitely keep your feelings in check. You are not a high school girl that needs an excuse to get close with her crush. Absolutely not.

“Well, I don’t mind sharing for a night.” Chan says, that big, stupid, pretty smile displaying his teeth and the perfect dimples. “Unless you don't feel comfortable, which is absolutely fine. I can just drive back and send someone to pick you up tomorrow?”

Maybe you do need an excuse to be near your crush. “I couldn't do that to you. We can just share a room.”

So, together, you make your way to the room. Like a good cliché, there was only one bed in the room but it was big enough to let you sleep without needing to be pressed against Chan’s body. It bummed you out a little. Now there wasn't an excuse to feel his warmth, maybe have your legs touch while trying to fall asleep, his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath…

You sigh, maybe a bit too loud since it has Chris turning to look at you. “Everything ok?” he asks but you can only nod as you drop your backpack on the bed and question every life decision you made that led you to this moment. You open your backpack to get your pajamas and almost whine when you remember that you packed the ugliest pieces you got. You were just being dramatic, of course. Your pajamas were simply a pair of old shorts (it had been kind of hot the past couple of days and you didn’t want to risk getting too warm because of pants) and an even older t-shirt with a band logo that was mostly faded. ‘Normal pajamas’, you tell yourself, but you just lost the opportunity to seduce your very handsome coworker with a sexy set.

“So unprofessional, shut up.” you murmur to yourself.

“Did you say something?”

Your head snaps in his direction and you laugh a bit awkwardly. “I said I was gonna change in the bathroom.” You say, lying through your teeth, as you gather the things you need in your arms and speed walk to the bathroom. You feel like you can breathe again when you lock the bathroom door and look at yourself in the mirror. A shower is everything you need right now and you can only hope you come out of it with a clearer mind and one less crush.

You remove your clothes and take a very cold shower so your mind can focus on your shivering figure rather than your coworker’s extremely hot body. It doesn't work. You leave the tub shaking and still thinking about Chris’ arms around you. You brush your teeth thinking about his body. Unfortunately, you can’t really come up with a plan B before you’re walking out the door. Fortunately, you’re glad you didn’t waste more time thinking of a plan B because your mind goes blank as soon as your eyes focus on Chris sitting on the bed. He’s looking at his phone, still wearing his suit and obviously waiting for you to be done so he can shower. You feel like screaming at the sight of his shirt unbuttoned almost all the way, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair messy from running his fingers through it.

At the sound of your steps, Chris looks up from his phone. You notice the way his eyes travel up your legs a bit too slowly until they settle on your face. You wished there was more noise outside because you’re not sure if Chan can hear your heavy breathing or your loud thoughts. You walk to the bed, trying not to stare too much at the man sitting next to your backpack. Carefully, you put your dirty clothes inside a plastic bag before shoving it inside the backpack. Chan still hasn't moved from his place and you can feel his intense stare. Once again, you can’t help but think this is unprofessional. Ok sure - there wasn't anything forbidding a hookup with your coworker. Your contract didn't specify anything about relationships of any kind but you still viewed it as improper.

You look again at Chris and his eyes are now on yours. You watch as his tongue licks his lips and think you don't mind being improper when the object of your dirty thoughts looks this good.

You move until you’re standing in front of him. Chris looks up at you with hooded eyes and shiny lips and something tells you he wants this as much as you.

“See something you like?” you say to the man, his legs spreading to accommodate you in between them.

“Definitely.” He replies, his ears already getting a bit red. You take off your shirt, basking in the attention Chan is giving you and your naked breasts. You slowly fall to your knees, looking up at the man through your eyelashes. This was most definitely a bad idea but how were you going to stop when Chris is looking down at you with those eyes? “I’ve been imagining you like this for so long.” He breathes out, his voice trembling a bit.

“Oh?” You finish unbuttoning his shirt. “You’ve been thinking about me on my knees? You’re sounding like a perv Channie.” You tease.

“N-no, I didn't mean it like that.” He stutters. With his help, you pull his pants and boxers down to his knees so you eye the dick standing tall and proud against his stomach. “I just… think about you.”

“Yeah? I think about you a lot too.” You admit, laying your head on his thigh as you look at him. “You always walk around the office with those tight shirts and pretty smiles. Makes me so weak.” You confess, holding the base of his cock with your hand. Chan hisses at the contact and his hand goes to your head, automatically pushing you closer.

You slightly part your lips to give an open-mouth kiss on the red-ish tip. You look up at Chris when your mouth fits his cock inside and he curses before throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. Moving your head up and down, you watch as the man above you crumbles under your touch. He curses and squeezes between his fingers the fabric underneath him. Your free hand sneaks past your shorts to touch yourself. Chris pushes your head down further when you whine around his dick as you insert a finger inside you. You gag around him and your coworker seems to like it by the way his hips start moving to fuck your face. Tears fill your waterline but Chris isn't even looking at you to see the damage, too focused on the sensations your mouth gives him.

His dick twitches inside your mouth and he immediately stops. Chan looks at you, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His lips are red, probably from biting it to keep his moans to himself. He looks good - too good for your own good, to be honest. You remove your hand from your shorts and his hand leaves your hair to settle on your cheek, a silent request for you to get up. Your knees hurt but you don't mind it. Chris moves to sit up against the headboard and you take off your remaining clothes before sitting on his thighs. His hands find a place on your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin as he now looks up at you with those intense eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers. You simply nod, leaning down to meet him halfway. His lips are soft and he tastes just like the mint he offered you after dinner. His kisses are slow and so sweet - you might actually fall in love.

“Do you have a condom?” You murmur against his lips.

“My wallet.” He replies. You get up to search for his wallet and, after following his instructions, you grab the condom. Chris had laid further down, his head now placed on the soft pillows. You go back to sitting on his thighs, opening the package before rolling the condom down his length.

“Are you sure?” You question. Chan nods as he says a small ‘yes’ and it’s enough for you to lead his tip to your entrance before sinking down on it slowly. “I need a minute…”

Chris is understanding. He stays still even if his dick is twitching like crazy inside you. He doesn't move even if you’re squeezing him like crazy. He waits for your signal before he’s moving his hips to meet yours. You place your hands on his chest for support and Chris is so focused on the way you move that he thinks that was the moment he fell in love with you. You bounce on his lap, head thrown back while you moan so sweetly, caring only about your pleasure. Seeing you like that is enough for Chris though. You look down at him, hands squeezing the flesh of his chest and arms as your moans grow a bit louder, needier. “I th-ink I’m gonna cum.” Chan manages to say.

You stop your movements immediately. “You can’t cum until I do.” Maybe it’s the authoritative voice you used (the same one you use when you’re ordering around people at the company that always has his pants tightening) or the hand that slips to his throat and squeezes just a tiny bit to make your point. Chan doesn't know, perhaps it was a mix of both. What he does know is that it has him spilling inside the condom with a strangled moan and a gasp. “You have got to be kidding me.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know why that happened!” Chan starts rambling, saying everything that comes to mind without even thinking. You roll your eyes, get up and pull out his condom to throw away. You thank a higher entity that he had another one in his wallet or it would be a shame that your night ended like this. “I mean I’ve been thinking about- Well not with you obviously! Ok maybe with you, god I’m such a pervert and…”

“It’s not a big deal.” You interrupt his rambling. “It’s hot really.” You murmur under your breath. “Do you want me to choke you Channie?”

Chan looks like he’s about to cry, the tips of his ears a vivid red. “Yeah? Only if you’re ok with it.”

You go back to bed and repeat the same process you did a few minutes ago, except you’re now holding a softer cock. Chris’ eyes widen and he’s about to ask for a little break but then you're sinking down on him again and his dick seems to come back to life. Your hand now finds a place on his neck, fingers squeezing the sides just enough that he feels it but not enough that he struggles breathing. Chan likes the pressure there, mixed with you bouncing on his lap and moaning his name so desperately. You like the image of Chan under you, mouth parted while he whines at the stimulation and pleas to go faster. You apply a bit more pressure and Chris’ eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to say something. The words don't come out but you still understand the warning. You keep the pressure, watching Chan suck in a breath before he’s spilling inside the condom once again. You don’t stop, set on reaching your orgasm as well. You let go of his neck to touch your clit, moving your fingers in circles while you get closer with each thrust. Chris squeezes your waist, helps you lift yourself up a few more times until you reach your high again.

You let yourself fall to his side, laying next to him on your back while breathing heavily. “Are you ok?” You hear Chris ask.

“More than ok.” You turn your head to look at him. “I’m so glad I fucked up the booking.”

“I’m glad you did too.” He sits down on the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “Let's go, we can shower together this time.”

With weak legs and a big smile, you let yourself get dragged by Chris to the bathroom. Today, you will enjoy whatever this is. Tomorrow, you will figure it out.

#poemsforchan post #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz x you #skz x y/n

427 notes · View notes

em-ontv · 4 months ago

Text

Hit and fall.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

Summary: Stiles has been pining after you for years now, and this was his chance to woo you, at a lacrosse game, but nothing ever really goes his way, does it?

Content: no use of y/n, Stiles being clumsy and messing up, he's kind of down bad

Author's note: I cannot believe I haven't written anything for him yet, he's so UGH, the single best thing in the show. Not proof-read, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, apologies beforehand :)

Word count: 786

Stiles had a problem. A big, heart-pounding, gut-wrenching problem. And that was you.

For years, he had harbored a crush on you, he sank so deep that it had basically become a third party in all of his conversations. He had known you since middle school, when you shared a science class together and he lent you a pen — only for you to reveal that you had your own pen all along.

"Just wanted to see if you were a good guy," you had said with a small smirk.

And that was it.

Stiles was hooked.

But tonight was different. Tonight was the night he was finally going to do something about it. Not some grand, fancy, caviar stuff, no. He had a simpler plan: impress you with his lacrosse skills at tonight's big game.

He had everything set up already, making sure to ask your friend to convince you to come since you didn't really go to any sports games. He figured if he showed you that he could be athletic and charming, maybe you'd finally see him as someone who's more than just the goofy guy from history class.

The problem though? Stiles wasn't exactly known for his athletic skills. Sure, he was on the lacrosse team, but, uh, he was mostly on the bench… yeah, it took some convincing for Coach Finstock to let him play tonight.

Still, Stiles was determined. He practiced, maybe not as much as he should have, but he practiced. And he had been psyching himself up all day, telling himself that tonight was the night he'd finally make his move.

You agreed to your friend's invitation to come to the game. All the stars are aligning, this was his shot.

And then he saw you.

You were in the stands, cheering with the rest of the students, an excited grin on your face. His heart leapt into his throat. His palms started to sweat. This wasn't good. He hadn't planned for this. He hadn't planned for you to be here — well, he had — but not for you to look so radiant and supportive and just so… you.

"Stiles. You okay, man?" Scott called from the field.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good!" Stiles called back, but he wasn't. Not even close. His mind was scrambling, a mess of everything that all led to one point: You were here. Watching him. Right Now.

The game started, and for the first few minutes, he managed to hold it together, he did pretty good, actually. But then he made the mistake of looking up at the stands again, and there you were, waving at him with that smile that made his insides twist up in knots, his legs felt like they were giving out right then and there.

And that's when things started to go very, very wrong.

He missed a pass. Then another. He tripped over his own stick, stumbled into Matt, and accidentally whacked Isaac in the shins with his lacrosse stick.

"Stilinski!" Coach Finstock bellowed from the sidelines. "Are you trying to lose us this game single-handedly?!"

"Sorry, Coach!" Stiles shouted back, trying to regain his focus. But it was useless. His nerves were twisted, his concentration shattered.

And then, just to add salt to the open wound, a well-aimed shot from the other team's captain hit him square in the chest.

Stiles went down like a sack of potatoes.

The world blurred around him, gasps and murmurs from the crowd filling his ears. But all that was on his mind was, Great. Just great. I'm finally gonna get her attention, and it's because I'm flat on my back like a total idiot.

When he finally managed to sit up, he saw you in the stands, your eyes filled with concern and shock. Perfect. Just perfect. He had managed to embarrass himself in front of you in the most spectacular way possible.

Stiles limped over to the bench at the sound of a whistle being blown, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his chest and the throbbing embarrassment in his soul, trying to grapple onto the last of his dignity while he sank down onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

He could already hear the teasing he was going to get from Scott and the rest of the team. But the worst part? He had blown his chance with you.

As he sat there, wallowing in his misery, he finally peeked through his fingers to see you in the stands, laughing with your friend — were you laughing at him? Did you think he was an idiot now? Well, to be fair, the fall to the ground was a little ridiculous.

Great.

Just great.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine

402 notes · View notes

themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 4 months ago

Text

In Love and War (Pt 5)

Summary: Seducing a Warlord is harder than Reader anticipated, especially when he seems so keen on taking care of her, but what happens when the past starts catching up with the present?

Content Warnings: SMUT (Porn with Feelings, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex); Mentions of Past Abuse; Drinking.

Previous Chapter/ Masterlist

-------------

I thought years of hiding my true feelings and desires from my father and subsequently Tamlin would prepare me for this sort of thing. I’ve spent my entire life delaying my wants and needs, shoving aside personal feelings for the sake of duty. I’ve become a master of shoving my needs aside to tend to everyone else’s without ever letting it slip that this isn’t what I want. So why the hell is it suddenly so hard?

Why, when given an opportunity to finally see the encampment and take stock of supplies and fighting men, did I all but beg to go back to Rhysand’s tent? There’s suddenly this needy, desperate thing that lives inside me and one touch is not enough to satisfy the roaring in my blood. As soon as lunch was finished, I’d all but dragged a freaking Illyrian Warlord into my bed.

Hell, it’s not even my bed! It’s his!

I should be better than this, yet, as soon as the tent flap shuts behind us, I toss my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss like my life depends on it. His lips are so damn soft! Plush and full against my own, parting as I slide my tongue behind his teeth, trying to take in more of him. His lips are such a contrast to the rest of him, all hard muscle and fighting leathers and some irrational part of me feels like it might die if I do not feel that firmness between my legs again.

He wraps an arm around my waist keeping me flush against his chest and this top is so damn thin I can practically feel the scrape of leather against my peeked nipples. There's still too little friction; I reach a hand down to pull at the fabric, trying to maneuver myself around enough to get it off in hopes that he’ll touch me like he had last night.

“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckles against my lips.

“Please,” I whimper, trying to go in for another kiss, but missing in my haste, lips brushing over his chin. I’m not even sure what I’m begging for more. I need him to touch me, kiss me, fill me. Every one feels like it’s at war within me, fighting for dominance. I could cry at the understimulation, need pulsing through my veins like he might be the only thing keeping me alive.

I hate it! I don’t know how I’ve ended up here. I’ve gone years without sex. Have denied my desires and tried to be the good, demure little thing my father wanted so he could pawn me off. I played my part until I couldn’t take it anymore and found someone to scratch the itch who wouldn’t be brave enough to tell anyone what we’d done. But even then I hadn’t felt like this.

His hands slowly inch up my waist, his eyes glinting playfully as I squirm under his careful ministrations. “Didn’t you just fall apart on my hand?”

That might as well have been days ago, at the point.

My body feels like it’s on fire, every breath an effort as his callused hands scrape over my breasts. I want the motion repeated on my bare skin, thumbs circling and teasing my sensitive nipples.

“Please, Rhys.” I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to, I’ll do anything to ease this frenzied feeling beneath my skin.

His fingers skim the top of my shirt, barely brushing my flushed skin. It’s too cold out for me to feel this hot. Am I getting sick? Do I have a fever? Why am I sweating?

He purses his lips, now pink and swollen from how forcefully I’d been kissing him, “Since you asked so sweetly.” He doesn’t bother pulling the top over my head, just grabs the collar and yanks, the material splitting evenly down the center before he hurls it behind me.

The ease in which he does that makes heat pool in my core, and I clench my thighs together. A move that doesn’t go unnoticed, especially in this skirt, as he lifts me up into his arms, setting my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed.

I put my lips on his throat, nipping and sucking marks into his skin as I grind my hips against his waist. More more more. How is this still not enough? I want these leathers off him. Want to run my hands over his tattooed chest, drag my nails over his shoulders and back; want to touch and claim as he does the same to me.

Claim. The word makes my stomach twist in a bad way as he lays me down in the center of the bed, surrounded once again by all these pelts and furs that linger with the jasmine and citrus scent of him. I shouldn’t want to claim anything of his. Yet, as soon as I’m sat against the mattress, I push myself up enough to reach for the ties of his leathers, cinched tight beneath his left arm.

My body roars for more, despite all rational thought and protest. I need him like I need air, so desperate my hands are practically shaking around the ties.

He chuckles as he presses another quick kiss to my lips. “Do you want help, mate?” His voice is lower here, a deep caress that feels like it wraps itself around my body. I shiver under the heat of it, trying not to acknowledge that I’m the only person I’ve heard him use this voice on.

“Want you out of these. Now!” I hiss, moving myself onto my knees to get a better angle.

He moves my hands lower, showing me an easier place to start unlacing them, and as soon as I get them untied, I push the leather off him and the bed, letting it clatter to the floor as I lean forward and place my lips to where his shoulder meets his neck. It’s a quick scrape of teeth, leaving a little mark before I follow the trail of his tattoos down his pectorals, nipping and biting as I go.

I’m royally fucked, but I can’t stop. My hands are everywhere, tracing the plains of his body, until I get low enough to reach for the ties on his pants. There’s a little patch of dark hair beneath his navel, trailing down beneath his waistband and I head that direction with my lips.

My lips brush the tip of that matching scar on his side, but I don’t stop to ask how he got it or who gave it to him. I know. And I don’t care. I don’t care what my father would have said if he knew what I was doing.

I scrape my teeth over the little strip of skin visible above his waistband, my hands already reaching for the ties on his pants and he groans, a hand threading into my hair. He whispers my name like it’s a prayer, like this is something holy and divine, not this twisted sin I’ve made it out to be in my head. It certainly doesn’t feel like sin now.

These laces are easier, not cinched as tight as his chest piece, and I start pushing the leather down his hips, following the trail of them with my lips until the hand in my hair gives a little tug, halting me in place.

“Might be a little easier if I just…” a flick of his wrist and the rest of his clothes disappear entirely. A curious magic I’d like to see more of, later, when I can think clearly again. Even now it occurs to me that it would have been kind of hard to get him out of his pants while he was still wearing his boots. I’m not even entirely sure how I got the chest piece off without catching them in his wings in the first place.

All questions for later. I’m sure a people with wings have made creative ways to put on and take off clothing, and maybe that would be something useful to know in terms of weak points in their armor, but I’m too far gone to ask as I drink in Rhysand’s fully naked form. I certainly hadn’t appreciated it enough last night. I could spend a very, very long time appreciating it now. He is miles of long, lean muscle and bronze skin, the sliver of light coming in beneath the tent enough to make him look like he’s glowing. Every bit of him has me itching to trace my hands over him, from the curl that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes all the way down to his very hard and heavy cock, now at attention against his abs. Gods he’s a lot bigger than I realized.

I get my hand around him as the hand in my hair yanks me up for another searing kiss, his lips hungry against my own. Beads of pre-cum dribble from his tip and I swirl my thumb over it as I get a better grip on his shaft and give him a testing pump. The moan he makes into my mouth, his eyes squeezing shut, chest heaving makes me think I’m not the only one that feels like they're on fire.

I repeat the motion, just to hear that glorious sound come out of him again.

The hand in my hair slides down my cheek until he can get a firm grasp on my throat, fingers tight enough to make me gasp a little but not enough to restrict my airway. “Keep that up,” he rasps, lips brushing mine. “And I’m not going to last very long.”

It is a heady sort of glee that spurs me into doing it a third time, knowing that I hold even a modicum of power over this male. Everybody fears him. His prowess is legendary in both battle and in magic. Yet he sits here on his knees, pupils blown so wide I almost can’t see the violet, swollen lips parted in a gasp as I struggle to wrap a hand around his cock, completely at my mercy.

“Maybe I don’t want you to last very long,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper around the hand that holds my throat. Not because it hurts, I could pull free if I wanted to, but I don’t. The heat of him makes the burning beneath my skin feel like it’s lessening, soothed now by just the touch of his skin alone. “Maybe I want to see you come undone with just my hands.”

He catches my wrist with speed I forgot he was capable of, before I can move on him again. “When I cum, I want it to be inside you.”

I clench my thighs together as wetness pools between them. “Death Incarnate only has one round in him, hm?” I manage to tease.

His eyes narrow, teeth flashing in a snarl as he pulls me off him and pushes me down onto my back against the mattress. His body is hot and heavy over mine as he slots himself between my legs. “Hardly,” his lips meet mine in a searing kiss that makes the room spin. “But we leave in thirty minutes and that’s simply not enough time to do everything I want to you.”

“We?” The word turns into a squeal as he gets his lips around my nipple and swirls his tongue over it. I pinch my eyes shut, back arching like I could push myself any farther into his mouth.

“I meant what I said about you riding with me,” he says, hot breath over my now damp nipple making me shiver. He brushes his lips over my other one, teasingly. “And now that I have a taste of you, why would I leave you alone in our bed?”

Ours.

I whimper as he runs his tongue over me. He’s too good to be true. This has to be a wild dream. No male could feel this good.

He slides a hand beneath my back, arching my body so he can kiss his way down my stomach without having to bend down. I’m somehow still wearing a skirt, but only for a moment before he yanks it off my hips and tosses it over his shoulder. My whole body shakes when he runs his tongue up my center. I’d thought the under stimulation might kill me before, but this feels somehow like too much, even as my body begs for more.

“Rhys,” I beg like a sinner at the altar of an ancient deity in desperate need of salvation.

He hums approvingly as he kisses his way back up my body and my legs instinctively open wider so he can settle between them. I’ve never been this pliant with anyone, nothing has ever felt this natural. His rightful place is between my legs, chest to chest, lips brushing over my skin as his callused hands settle on my thighs and drag me into whatever position he sees fit.

He teases the tip of his cock against my entrance and if there was any chance I had a thought in my head aside from him before, it’s certainly gone now. I am not whole if he is not inside me.

“Mate,” the word slips out of me as I babble and plead and get a hand around the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him into me.

That’s really all it takes for him to tighten his grip on my hips and sheath himself inside me, a growl rumbling through his chest as he buries his face in my neck and nips at my tender skin.

The stretch of him inside me is too much and yet not enough and I rake my nails down the sharp contours of his back, even as my legs wrap around his waist to take him deeper. I have no idea what I’m doing any more, only that I need him everywhere all at once.

“Say it again,” he whispers in my ear, voice so low and husky the muscles in my core twitch. He hasn’t moved an inch, like he’s letting me adjust to the sheer size of him, and I am grateful for it but it’s also the worst kind of torture because I need more.

“Please?” he continues, lips pressing a lingering kiss beneath my ear. “Sounds so pretty coming from your lips.”

It’s just a word, and I’ll say anything to get him to start moving. “Please,” I brush my nose along the side of his throat, taking in the full, rich scent of him. “Need you, mate.”

His movements are impossibly slow for someone who claims we have to leave in half an hour, the drag of his hips as he slides out of me an even worse torture than him not moving because I can feel every empty space inside me.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and I think my eyes might actually roll back into my skull as he slides back in a little more forcefully this time, his lips meeting mine as he rocks down to meet me.

My whole body chases him, hips rolling to match his thrusts, nails still sliding down his back. There is no beginning and end to us, just the motion of our bodies and the pleasure that licks its way so intensely up my spine I think it might rip right out of my skin if it’s not released soon.

“Rhys.” He keeps hitting a spot inside me that makes stars spin across my vision and I’m all too aware that I’m babbling nonsense as I lose myself beneath him, but I’m too far gone to notice the tears that slip from my eyes from the overstimulation until he reaches out to brush them away.

“Do I need to stop?”

I’d rather gouge out my own eyes!

I’d sooner crawl across hot coals then ask him to stop.

“No!” It comes out like a squeak, my voice cracking and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more vulnerable than I do right now. “Please don’t stop!”

His lips brush my damp cheeks, his motions slowing, and my heart clenches in my chest. We’re too vulnerable again. This is just supposed to be sex, just scratching an itch, I’m not supposed to feel anything, but when he looks at me like he is now, like I’m something worthwhile, I feel my heart stutter in my chest. I want more of that too.

“I’m not hurting you?” He asks.

“No,” I assure. “Feels good. So good.”

His lips find mine in a gentle kiss. “You’ll tell me if it doesn’t.” Not a question, but a demand.

I nod as I thread my fingers through his hair and kiss him again, body arching into his next thrust. Pleasure licks white hot up my spine and I’d squeeze my eyes shut and fall into it if the sight of him above me wasn’t such a spectacular one. His wings flare out behind him, filling the tent, dark hair sweat dampened and tousled from my fingertips, lazily falling across his forehead. The muscles in his arms and shoulder ripple as he holds himself upright just enough to not crush me with the full weight of him, but when he rocks into me again I arch my back so our chests brush, just to get another feel of his warm skin on mine. He’s every bit a dark angel above me and I don’t know if I want to trace the patterns of his wings or keep running my nails down his back until I’m familiar with every ridge and plane more.

I want this to last forever. Dangerous territory, I know, but I am too blissed out to care. He’s good at this. Good at making me feel good. I’ve never been with a male this attentive to my body; I’m convinced it's an experience more addictive than any drug.

He slides a hand between my legs, deft fingers finding my clit. “Later, when the wards are settled, I’ll take my time with you, see what other pretty noises I can drag out of you.”

I’m pretty sure the noise I just made at the circular motion of his fingers and the driving pace of his cock is as lewd as I can get, but I also thought I was more in control of this situation than I truly am, so who’s to say?

“But right now,” he purrs in my ear. “Right now I want you to cum for me.” Each word is punctuated with a thrust of his hips.

And who am I to deny him when he speaks like that? When his hands and body move inside me like that? One more thrust and an expert flick of his fingers and I’m gone, careening over the edge so fast I scream.

He follows right after me, spilling so hot and heavy inside me I can feel some of his release dripping out between my legs.

Fuck. For all my plans to ruin his life, he very well might just ruin any other male for me in the process.

Even worse, I’m here driven by this aching need to be filled and even though he’s finished, he still peppers feather light kisses over my neck and jaw as he slides out. He’s impossibly gentle as he rolls both of us onto our sides, his large hands soothing down my back as he tucks me beneath his chin, holding me tight as I come down from this new high.

My heart aches like it’s a separate, living, breathing thing outside of my head and all its plans for revenge.

Damn him!

“Are you ok?” He rasps, still catching his breath.

I let myself listen to my heart for a moment, burying my nose in the crook of his neck and letting my eyes fall shut. I cannot remember a time I’ve ever felt this content. “Perfect.”

One of his wings settles over us like a blanket, creating a little cocoon of warmth as the heat that had consumed me starts to finally fade.

He kisses the top of my head, hands still tracing patterns in my skin.

“Your wings are a lot lighter than they look,” I murmur into his shoulder. I should move, should pull away and put as much distance between us before my heart gets any more ideas about what has to happen here, but my body refuses to.

“We don’t typically let people close enough to realize how delicate they are,” he admits. “The right cut can make it damn near impossible to ever fly again, we are trained as children to protect them at all costs.”

The urge to touch them is damn near overwhelming, so I run my fingers over his tattoos instead. “So why do you need horses if you can just fly?”

“My people did the most damage to Hybern’s armies in the War,” he explains, stretching his wings out and settling them again. “The Night Court’s aerial forces were unmatched, until he got his hands on the Cauldron and blasted most of us out of the sky. After his victory, he used the Cauldron’s power to create a barrier in the sky. Fly too close and it zaps you with enough energy to fry your wings right off your back.”

I shutter at the thought.

“It’s high enough that we can glide, but never enough space to really fly. We still train our fighters, here in the canyon, but save for a few elders, there’s no one here who’s ever been able to follow the siren call of the wind and really fly.”

“Not even you?” I tilt my head back to look at him and he places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

“I’m not that old!” He returns.

“That must be hard,” I muse.

Rhysand finally unfurls himself from around me and sits up. At this angle I can see all the scratch marks I left on his skin, but beneath them is a network of scars over the same swirling tattoos on his chest and arms.

“I dream of a day it’s not like this,” he says as he leans over the edge of the bed to find wherever he tossed his pants. “A day where we’re all free.”

I stretch my stiff muscles. It’s a pretty dream, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s all it’ll ever be. No one has ever beaten Amarantha, let alone Hybern.

“Are you the only one fighting Amarantha?” Knowing who his allies are might be useful information. I have to keep telling myself that’s what I’m here for, that I need to keep asking the right questions when the opportunity presents itself.

“For now,” he returns as he pulls his pants on and climbs from the bed.

A moment later, he returns with a damp towel and grabs me by the ankle and drags me to the edge of the bed to clean up the mess he made between my legs. “I had some clothes sent over for you.”

His hands are nothing but gentle as he cleans me up, no teasing or amusement, like he might really just care about getting me cleaned up and not getting anything in return for it. This time, my whole body freezes at the contact; I don’t know what to do with this. There is no purpose here, no goal to be reached with this kind of touching.

“Maybe while we’re out you can find some way for me to pay you back for them,” I say instinctively. It’s habitual; no one gives anyone anything for free.

But he’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “They’re a gift.”

I’m gonna start clawing at my skin! He has to stop this! I need him to show me who he really is, because this version of him is starting to freak me out. He’s not supposed to be anything like this!

He slides an arm around my waist and lifts me onto my feet. “What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

My hands might actually be shaking. My legs certainly are, but that’s a matter of what we’d just done and not the unease that swirls itself around in circles in my stomach. “But you barely know me.”

“I know enough,” he assures.

A flick of his wrist and a new pair of clothes appears in his hands, including a new set of boots. “I hope they fit, I made a guess of your measurements. We can get you fitted better when we return in a couple days.”

I take them numbly, my head still spinning. None of this is how I anticipated this going. “Thank you.”

“You were gonna catch your death in your old ones,” he says as he moves away to let me change.

My gaze lands on my old boots by the edge of the bed, the holes I’d worn into them from years of use painfully visible. I’d asked Tam for months to help me get new ones, he’d always said I hadn’t done enough to earn them.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I hurry into the dark pants and matching sweater. They’re both heavy and warm, if not a little too long. I have to roll up the sleeves on the sweater and the hem of the pants to keep them off the ground, but they’re both in one, solid piece-- save for the slits in the arms of the sweater, baring that fresh swatch of ink across my bicep--keeping the chill out. And the boots have fur! I could have climbed back into my old clothes and still been warmer with just these boots alone.

Rhys comes back to my side a moment later, holding a sheath and a dagger as long as my forearm. “I’m gonna assume you know how to use one of these?”

My mother had taught me the weak points to aim for, had secretly shown me how to hold my wrist and step into a thrust. My father would have left me defenseless otherwise, and neither my mom or I had ever mentioned how many times those simple lessons had saved my life. But I would never say I had formal training. I was not allowed to train with the males. I only knew how to shoot a bow out of necessity and my own secret efforts of watching other people do it.

“Well enough.”

He frowns at that. Taking the dagger by the blade, he holds it out to me, watching with rapt attention the way my fingers wrap around the hilt. The frown doesn’t leave until his hand covers mine, adjusting the grip, then his free hand bends my arm at the elbow, showing me a position I’ve held a thousand times, but he pushes his weight against me, testing the grip.

“Good.” His hand comes to my wrist and brings the blade to the left side of his chest. “Here if they’re not wearing armor, right between the fourth and fifth rib.” Another quick pull and he has the blade between the gap where his chest piece meets his shoulder. ��Under the armpit if they are wearing armor. If you can’t get that angle…” the last stop of the blade is at his throat.

“I did try this on you,” I remind.

The frown finally turns into a grin. “I haven’t forgotten, Darling, but it never hurts to make sure.”

He slides the blade effortlessly from my hand, and before I can ask him what he’s doing, he’s kneeling at my feet and sliding the straps for the baldric around my thigh. It’s not even the casual intimacy of the action that has my brain short circuiting, but the fact that Death Incarnate is on his knees for me that makes all rational thought fly from my head.

“It’s not too tight?” He asks.

“No, it’s good,” I mutter.

His hands slide up my thighs, holding my hips as he tilts his head back to look at me. “Do you like the sight of me kneeling before you, mate?”

My treacherous heart thunders in my ears. “Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, heat already pooling between my legs again, as if he hadn’t just been inside me.

He gives my hips a little squeeze before standing. “Something to try another time, I think.” Rhysand leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear before his full lips press a lingering kiss against my jaw. “I think I’d very much like to watch you fall apart on my tongue from that position.”

It is an effort to swallow. An effort not to grab him for another kiss, pull him back into the bed and back on top of me. It’s like the last time didn’t happen five minutes ago, it might as well have been days ago. My blood is starting to feel like it’s on fire again and I can’t seem to get a handle on it like I usually do.

A cough in the doorway spares me from acting on my newfound impulses. It’s Cassian, smirking in the doorway, his long hair pulled back away from his face. His own fighting leathers gleam with a new polish, a giant broadsword sheathed between his massive wings. I shiver at the sight of him; these are the Illyrians from our stories.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he says with a smirk.

“You say that as if we didn’t use to bed females in the same tent when we were younger,” Rhysand returns.

I glance back and forth between them. It’s not unheard of, especially when sleeping spaces are tight, but the thought of having an audience for what we’d just done makes me clench my thighs together. I never thought I’d be much of an exhibitionist, but I also came on this male’s hand in a room full of people not that long ago either.

Cassian smirks like he knows what I’m thinking of, hazel eyes roaming over me in my new clothes. “Shared a few too, if I recall.”

Rhys flashes his teeth at him, a growl rumbling through his chest. “Choose those next words carefully!” Shadows drift from his shoulders, slithering out from underneath his wings.

But Cassian doesn’t balk, he laughs. “Mating bond chafing a bit?”

Rhysand curses something in Illyrian at him as he goes to one of the chests and starts rifling around. “Did you bring what I asked for or are you just here to be a pain in my ass, like usual?”

Cassian holds out what looks like a twin chest piece to theirs, only smaller. “Both.”

Rhysand finishes pulling things out of the chest and snatches it from him. “Horses ready?”

“Saddled and waiting. Most of the men too.”

“Good. We’ll be out in a minute.” Rhysand says in dismal.

Cassian looks my way and winks, “Only lasting a minute these days, huh?”

A wave of dark, glittering powers hurls Cassian out of the tent so hard I hear the thwack of his body landing in the mud, even though he’s too far away for me to see it.

“Bastard,” Rhysand snarls, more to himself than anyone, as he stalks back over to me.

“They’re not fighting leathers, but they’ll be an extra layer of protection, just in case,” his tone immediately softens, shadows retreating as he steps back into my space to strap me into the chest piece. It’s lightweight and durable, the leather thickest in the front and back, with a lot of ties on either side. Not complete coverage, but coverage enough to save me if someone attacks me with a knife. He laces it for me, taking his time to assure the pieces are all in place.

“Thank you.”

Next is my bow and arrows, and as if in apology for the way he’d ripped them off of me last time, he slides the strap over my head and under my arm. Though I don’t miss the way the worn leather strap has been replaced with a new, sturdier one.

“Didn’t want you to lose these,” he says, fiddling with the belt.

I feel guilty. All these gifts and this obvious affection are starting to press against me like lead weights. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You don’t have to keep giving me things.”

“I’d hardly call basic necessities gifts,” he retorts.

“I haven’t done anything to earn them,” I say, looking anywhere but at him.

His hand comes to cup my cheek, turning my head back to look at him. “Who told you that you had to?”

The words catch in my throat. I already said too much to Mor yesterday, I don’t need to start running my mouth here and give away too much to Rhysand now. I am here to get information, not give it. “No one,” I mumble.

“No one is going to hurt you,” he says gently. “You can trust me, you know?”

“That’s just how we did things back home,” I say.

His wings twitch behind him. “Not here.”

I nod and he presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “We should get going.”

Please, before my guilt starts getting so loud that I admit something stupid or lose my nerve. Maybe going on this ride is the safest thing to do. Sleeping with him is starting to feel like it’s getting too many emotions involved. Maybe I made a terrible mistake starting this way instead of another.

---

We ride out with thirty other males. Only three of them bring a companion with them, everybody else is heavily cloaked and armed to the teeth, supplies for several days' journey strapped to their saddlebags. Cassian, Mor and Azriel among them. Rhysand and I, atop his midnight black mount, lead the way back out the canyon, with the others on our flank. The rest follow behind in a somber procession. While the execution and following meal had been boisterous, this feels like everyone is holding their breath, expecting war to be knocking on the wards.

My body feels full of nervous energy, fingers ticking against my thigh the closer we get to those giant winged statues that guard the pass. It looks even more treacherous in daylight than it had at night, yet these horses are as sure footed now as they were then.

Rhys rides stiffly behind me, one hand on the reins, the other loose against my waist. He has that star flecked cloak on again, the long folds of fur lined fabric enough to keep both of us warm. I’d almost forgotten about it until he’d slid back into it right before we mounted.

The scent of overripe fruit reaches us as we draw closer to the edge of wards, and we pause briefly here to let a scout pass ahead of us. Only when the rider returns do we all pass through, the heavy press of power making my hair stand on end until it's once again sealed shut behind us. It is strange to be outside of it now. I am used to always moving, never planting roots because I had always been told no such places existed after the War, but now that I’ve had a taste, I strangely miss it.

If the others feel the same, they don’t say so. We continue to ride for hours in silence, until we finally come out of the canyon into the grassy plain beyond the Mountain Regions. When the path is no longer narrow, the procession fans out around us, the sound of shifting hooves and riders no longer an echo in the open space.

“I half expected an army,” Cassian admits to our left. Mor rides with him, her own cloak shrouding her face, but there are wisps of blonde hair peeking out from underneath the cowl.

I feel rather than see Rhysand shifting around behind me as he looks around. “Split off. Take half the men and strengthen the wards to the left. The rest will handle the right.”

“Last attack came from the north, she won’t be foolish enough to use the same approach twice,” Azriel cautions.

“So be prepared,” Rhysand says to Cassian. “Half your group on lookout, other half on repairs. I don’t want any gaps.”

Cassian nods, his horse dancing beneath him in response to his own nervous energy. “We can do it, but I think it’s smarter to stick together.”

“Keep a scout ready, check in at dusk and again at dawn. If we need to regroup we will. I’d rather not leave multiple blind spots if we can help it.”

Cassian barks out the orders and half the men split off without a word, leaving the rest of us standing there, monitoring the grass until they pass out of sight. Rhysand waits, mount turned towards where they disappeared around a bend, following the base of the mountain, to ensure there is no sound of scuffle before leading us the opposite direction.

“How do you repair a ward?” I ask as he guides the horse to the base of this side of the mountain. I can’t feel the wards here like I could in the canyon; I’m not even sure they’re intact here.

“Think of it like weaving a tapestry,” he explains, the hand around my waist leaving so he can stretch out his arm. Where his gloved hands should meet air, I see the faintest ripple, like he brushed a very transparent curtain. “You have to weave all the strands together in the correct pattern and order to make a cohesive picture. Sometimes, the thread gets tangled, or frayed, and you have to pluck out the thread and start over.”

“But you use magic instead of thread?”

A glitter of stars trails from his fingertips, dancing and swirling in the air like they might braid themselves together. “Yes. My ancestors used a ward stone in the heart of the mountains as a cornerstone, then used their magic to pull its powers out and form a hedge of sorts.”

A ward stone.

Was that something I could steal? Or break maybe?

“I thought Hybern used the Cauldron to destroy such things?” I can’t sound too eager, but I’m finally getting somewhere and I can’t waste this opportunity.

“Not all of them,” Rhysand explains. “There are a few in existence that were buried or were hidden from his sight.”

“And they’re powerful enough to shield a whole region?” If so, it’s probably not something I can move out of here, but maybe it can be damaged. Its very existence gives me options. Tamlin would kill to even know Rhysand was using one.

“With regular maintenance,” he says. “That’s why we regularly do stuff like this.”

“Will we get to see it?”

His shadows drift off him, poking at the rippling power that makes up the shield, looking for weak spots. “No, not for this.”

I try not to let my disappointment show. At least the knowledge of how it works is something profitable to take back, I draw comfort in that, but still, the doubt that it’s not enough to let me get back home gnaws at me. I need more. I need enough to have this ink on my arm forgiven.

“Does it hurt you?” I ask. “To use this much power?”

“It’s taxing, but it’s not painful,” he assures. “Not usually anyway. If there is a fight to be had, then maybe the strain of both things at once would cause some discomfort.”

I put a hand on his thigh, “Good.” To my dismay, I think I actually mean it.

----

We make it a fourth of the way around the mountain before we stop to make camp for the night. By this time, the sun has long since set. Nighttime is a sight to behold out here, the sea of stars and full moon are enough to make me wonder how much better it could have possibly looked if the Night Court had remained intact after the War.

I make myself useful and set up the tent from the supplies Rhysand packed while he finishes dolling out guard duty to the men. At least I am not totally useless. I even manage to get the mat for us to sleep on all set up by the time he comes back, the single layer of fur a harsh contrast to the amount that adorns his bed, but it’ll do. It’s still more comfortable than what I had waiting for me back in the Grasslands.

He looks tired by the time he kicks off his boots, a bit of red streaking his eyes from the strain of weaving the wards for hours on end. He hadn’t lied about it being taxing then.

Azriel lets himself into the tent a moment later. “Cass checked in. Nothing amiss on their end. Wards are looking good, Mor got nearly as far as we did before they made camp.”

“Good,” Rhysand rolls his shoulders and neck, wings flaring behind him as best he can in the confines of this much smaller tent. Both he and Azriel have to stoop when they stand. “Guard duties have been assigned, everything looks normal so far.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Azriel replies, his gaze flicking momentarily to me. “We’ll cross over where we ran into them last time. Even knowing they won’t strike the same way twice is enough to put me on edge.”

“You’re always on edge, Az,” Rhysand replies. “You should sleep.”

Azriel huffs and disappears as quickly as he’d come, a bit of shadow trailing after him.

With camp set up, there’s not much left to do other than dole out some of the rations that had been packed and settle in for the night, but I do wish I’d had anything to pack that would have given me something to do with my hands. Going to bed with threats knocking on our door has never been anything new, but it never gets any easier either.

“Do you think we’ll run into Amarantha’s men again?” I ask as I split some bread, hard cheese, and dried meat between the two of us.

He produces what I initially thought to be a waterskin from the supplies, but it turns out to be wine instead, a bit of the red liquid dribbling down his chin as he takes a long drink. It has been a long day, riding has not lessened the soreness in my muscles from our earlier escapades, if anything I should want to stretch out on the mat and sleep for a very long time. Instead, the path that little bead of wine makes down his chin makes me want to climb into his lap and lick it away. It is an effort to focus on the food in my hands and eat instead. We got a little too vulnerable last time, I need to be better about how and when I offer up my body if I want to make it out of this with some semblance of my soul intact.

“She is vindictive, but she is patient,” he muses, leaning back on his elbows. “If not now, then in a few weeks. She will not take our little gift kindly.”

“Why poke her at all?” I blurt. “You have all this, why risk it?”

“This is a fraction of what we used to be,” he says, but his eyes grow distant, like he’s looking somewhere far, far away. “And she and I have unfinished business, I will not be satisfied until I have her head on a pike.”

I’m glad he is too distracted to see the shiver that works its way up my spine. It’s a good reminder of who he really is. I will need it to keep my wits about me.

I take a bite of bread, weighing my options. I should ask what kind of business would prompt such a response, but that conversation with Mor stops me. He’d loved someone else and she was gone, given what I knew of him, that seemed like enough, and I didn’t have it in me to talk to him about lost loves. That was too vulnerable.

He gives himself a little shake after a few minutes, clearing whatever cloud was in his head, and takes another long drink of wine before passing it over to me. I should stay as far away from the wine as I am his body to preserve some semblance of self-control, but I can’t think up a good excuse to not if he were to ask why. There are too many things in my head tonight. One sip can’t be too bad, right?

The warmth that spreads through me is addictive, helps the stale bread and the guilt that’s been sitting in my chest all day go down easier. The next sip is more of a very long drink, until the bitterness of the grapes doesn’t taste so terrible.

Silence stretches out between us, nothing but the sounds of our chewing and the quiet passing back and forth of the wineskin. There’s only a single lantern for light, swaying in the breeze of the open tent door. Beyond us, the camp rustles as it gets ready to sleep, but someone in the distance is singing a song in Illyrian.

“Can I ask you a question?” Rhysand asks a moment later, the silence stretching between us bordering on uncomfortable now.

It’s my turn to have the wineskin again and it freezes halfway to my lips. Shit!

I force my voice to be even as I say, “I’ve been asking you questions all day, it’s only fair.”

He sits up, dusting some crumbs off his chest. “How trained are your powers?”

I don’t know what question I thought he was going to ask, but it was most certainly not that. “There’s…” I flex my fingers, thinking of the way Tam’s claws slide in and out at will. I’d only ever summoned my own twice. The first was an accident, when I was twelve or thirteen. I’d had my first cycle and my hormones were all over the place, I’d been trying to scrub a persistent blood stain out of my skirts and when it wouldn’t come out I’d gotten so pissed off the claws had come out to tear the fabric to ribbons. The second… the second had been the night my parents died. “There’s not enough to train.”

Which makes this whole mate thing make even less sense, because how am I supposed to be this male’s equal? If he sits still for too long darkness starts leaking out his skin like it’s trying to escape the confines of his body. Sometimes if he steps down too hard I can feel the power of him rattle the earth. He is called Death Incarnate for a reason. And I somehow barely have enough for a few party tricks.

He inclines his head to study me as I take another long drink of wine. My head is starting to feel a little fuzzy with how much I’ve drank and I pass the skin back over before I lose my last shred of self-control.

“But your mother’s power surpassed your father’s and it certainly didn’t pass to Tamlin,” he muses.

The warmth of the wine leaves me in a rush, only the cold mountain air in its place. He’s wrong. Wrong about their power levels, wrong about Tam, wrong for even mentioning them in the first place when their blood is on his hands.

“We never talked about it,” I grind out through my teeth. There are too many things on my tongue and I feel my control quickly spiraling out of reach. “And nothing ever manifested.”

“I only ask because I haven’t seen you expel any magic, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. It’s fine if you don’t have any, as long as you’re not hurting yourself trying to hold it in, is all I meant.”

I shiver, arms wrapping around myself as a gust of wind whips through the tent in a ghostly howl. “It can hurt?”

“It can drive you mad,” he replies, standing and offering me his hand.

My legs wobble a bit, the room spinning and he keeps a hand on my waist to steady me. Only when he’s sure my footing is sure does he let go enough to help me untie my chestplate. I should have drank a lot less than I had.

We climb silently onto the mat, nestled under the fur, and I fully expect to go back to sleeping back to back now that our moment of horniness has passed, but he wraps himself around me, wing once again draped over us. It’s like our own little pocket of warmth.

“My mother used to say the trees talked to her,” I whisper, his words clinging to me as tightly as he is now. It’s probably the wine, but I can’t get the nagging feeling that I’m seeing the wrong picture as memory after memory drags itself to the surface. My mother had bouts where she wouldn’t talk for weeks, just staring off into the distance. I remember being a kid, holding her hands and talking for hours, making up stories like the ones she’d tell me at night, trying to get a reaction out of her.

“She’d wander off into the woods, rambling about it and I…” Those bouts always ended with her having slipped out of the tent, searching for things she insisted were calling to her. “I learned to track by following her footprints and helping her get home.” She never remembered leaving. And I’d get her back home, helping clean the mud and leaves out of her hair, braiding it out of her way and making her presentable before my father returned to see her missing. There came a point where I’d stopped sleeping to make sure I could catch her before she got too far out.

“I’m sorry,” he says gently, warm breath ghosting over my neck.

I shiver despite the heat of him. My father couldn’t have known, right? He would have helped her if had thought it was her own magic not being released. He wasn’t that cruel.

He wasn’t!

“I know a lot of males who chase after power so they can breed it in their sons,” he continues.

I want to put my hands over my ears.

I want my lungs to stop feeling like they might cave in on themselves; my heart to stop feeling like it might just beat right out my chest. He. Is. Wrong. He has to be!

“My father was like that too,” he admits.

I don’t know where the words come from, or why my mouth moves without me thinking about it. “I guess we’re all just products of our fathers.”

I’m prepared for the consequences of such a truth, but I’m definitely not ready for him to say, “Guess it’s a good thing they killed each other then.”

-----------

Tag List:

@judig92, @randomperson1234sblog, @nyxbranwenn, @lilah-asteria, @barb00235, @landofpetrichor, @hjgdhghoe, @buttermilktea11, @yourforeveryoungblog, @sassyn, @zoeisdreaming6, @minnieoo, @girl-math-aint-mathing, @raisam, @inloveallthetime

Thank you all for your patience! <3 Please let me know if you also want to be added to the taglist or if the tags didn't work, I'm still working out why sometimes they don't.

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhys x reader smut #acotar rhys #acotar smut #acotar fic #rhysand fic #warlord!rhys #warlord!Rhys x reader #my writing #my fanfic #in Love and War fic

151 notes · View notes

dandylovesturtles · 6 months ago

Text

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #sidelined au #rise leo #rise raph #rise mikey #rise donnie #whumperless whump event #day 4 #once again there is minimal proofreading on this one haha

219 notes · View notes

heliads · 1 year ago

Text

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things: either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him: he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top.

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily.

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer.

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

522 notes · View notes

kisses-for-you · 3 months ago

Text

oblivious - e. diaz

eddie diaz x fem!reader

summary: eddie struggles with his growing feelings for you while his friends encourage him to confess.

w/c: 2.4k

Eddie Diaz stood near one of the fire trucks, his hands resting on the warm metal as he wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been a long day filled with calls, but the laughter of his friends filled the air, momentarily pushing away the stress of the job. However, Eddie's mind was somewhere else entirely — on you.

You had become a regular presence at the station since you started volunteering with the local community program. Your infectious laughter and compassionate heart drew everyone in, but for Eddie, you were something more. He admired your kindness, your determination, and the way you could make everyone smile, even on the toughest days. Yet, as he watched you joke with the others, Eddie felt the familiar knot in his stomach. He hadn't told you how he felt yet and it was becoming harder to keep it to himself.

"Hey, Eddie!" Buck's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "You with us, buddy?"

Eddie looked up, trying to shake off the thoughts that had enveloped him. "Yeah, sorry. What's up?"

Buck exchanged a knowing look with Chimney and Hen. "We were just talking about how you've been looking at Y/N lately. You sure you're not in love with her or something?" Buck teased, a wide grin on his face.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of you. "I'm not in love with her," he said a little too quickly. "I mean, I like her, but…"

"But what?" Hen leaned forward. "You're saying that like it's a bad thing. She's amazing!"

"Exactly," Chimney chimed in. "You should go for it! Tell her how you feel."

Eddie felt trapped under their gaze, glancing over to where you were chatting with Bobby. You seemed completely oblivious to the attention you were receiving. "I don't know, guys. It's not that easy," he muttered.

"Why not?" Buck pressed. "You're a firefighter! You run into burning buildings for a living. How hard can it be to talk to a girl you like?"

"Have you ever tried talking to a girl you really like?" Eddie shot back. "It's not the same as saving someone from a fire."

"Fair point," Buck admitted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But still, you've got to give it a shot."

Just then, you turned toward them, your bright smile lighting up the room. "What's going on over here? You all look like you're plotting something."

"Just trying to convince Eddie to make a move," Hen said with a wink, her voice low but playful. Eddie felt his stomach drop. "Hen!" he hissed, but it was too late.

Your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Make a move?" you echoed, tilting your head slightly. "On who?"

"Oh, you know… just some hypothetical situation," Eddie stammered, scrambling for a plausible excuse. "Like, uh, if someone were to have a crush on a certain volunteer… not that I do!"

The others snickered, and Eddie shot them a warning look. You, still oblivious, laughed lightly. "Well, if that someone needs any advice, I'm all ears," you said with a playful smile before returning to Bobby, leaving Eddie flustered.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"C'mon, Eddie! Just talk to her!" Buck encouraged.

"Yeah, otherwise, you're just going to keep suffering in silence," Chimney added, clapping him on the back.

Eddie took a deep breath, his heart racing at the thought of confessing his feelings. Maybe it was time he finally told you. He glanced back at you, now once again chatting with Bobby, your eyes sparkling with laughter. If only you could see how much he cared for you.

The teasing continued throughout the evening, with Buck taking the lead. "So, Eddie, do you have any grand plans for your 'hypothetical crush'? A romantic dinner? A moonlit walk? A firehouse dinner date?"

Eddie groaned. "I don't know, Buck! Maybe I'll just write her a letter or something."

"Now you're talking!" Hen exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "You could even leave it in her car or something! Super romantic."

"Yeah, just like in the movies," Chimney agreed, clearly enjoying teasing Eddie.

Eddie was torn between embarrassment and amusement. "You guys are ridiculous," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

The night wore on but Eddie's mind was elsewhere. As they wrapped up their dinner, he watched you as you helped Bobby clean up. He genuinely thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, and he felt a wave of longing wash over him.

"Okay, Eddie. We're heading out for the night," Buck said. "You coming with us?"

"I think I'm going to stick around for a bit," Eddie replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and dread. "I want to talk to Y/N."

"Good luck, Romeo," Chimney teased as he and Buck grabbed their things then headed for the door.

As the station quieted down, Eddie approached you as you were wiping down the counter. "Hey," he said, his voice low.

"Hey, Eddie!" you said, looking up with that warm smile that made his heart flutter. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to… um…" Eddie stumbled over his words, suddenly remembering all of his friends' teasing, making him even more nervous. "I wanted to thank you for everything you do around here. You make this place so much better."

You blinked in surprise, your smile widening. "That's so sweet of you to say! I really enjoy being here. You guys are like family."

Eddie chuckled softly at your words, giving a small nod. "And I really appreciate it. You've made a difference in my life."

You looked down for a moment, a hint of shyness creeping into your expression. "You know, I was thinking about how much fun we all have together. It's nice to have such good friends, especially with everything going on recently."

"Yeah," he agreed, his heart pounding. "I've been thinking about that too."

You looked back up at him, your brows slightly furrowed in thought. "Eddie, is something on your mind?"

This was it. Eddie took a deep breath, his heart racing as he prepared to finally tell you how he felt. "Y/N, I-"

Just then, the door swung open, and Bobby stepped in, interrupting Eddie. "Hey, guys! Did I miss anything?"

Eddie felt his chance slip away, frustration boiling under the surface. "No, just- nothing," he muttered, trying to regain his composure.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension. "You okay, Eddie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Eddie replied, forcing a smile. "Just talking."

You looked between the two men, your brows once again furrowed, but this time in confusion. "We were just talking about how much I enjoy being here," you said, your tone light.

Bobby nodded, not knowing he had just interrupted and ruined Eddie's confession. "That's great! The more, the merrier. We're lucky to have you."

As the conversation shifted to a different topic, Eddie felt a sense of defeat wash over him. He couldn’t believe he had lost his chance. Maybe he should just give up. After all, you didn't even seem to notice his feelings. But as the night went on, he realised that he couldn't give up that easily. He had to find a way to express himself, no matter how hard it was. Maybe he would take the advice of his friends and write you a letter. It seemed like a good way to get his feelings out without the immediate pressure of a face-to-face conversation.

A few days later, Eddie decided to act on his plan. He spent his lunch break writing a heartfelt letter, pouring out all the emotions he had bottled up for so long. He wrote about how much you meant to him, how you brightened his days, and how he admired your strength and compassion. Once the letter was finished, he folded it neatly and slipped it into an envelope. He sat for a moment, contemplating whether he should really go through with it. But then he thought about his friends’ words and your smile, and he knew he had to try.

Later that evening, as you were leaving the station, Eddie took a deep breath and approached you. "Hey, Y/N! Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course!" you replied, eyes lighting up with curiosity.

Eddie fumbled with the envelope in his pocket, his heart racing. "I… I wanted to give you something." He pulled out the envelope and handed it to her.

You looked surprised, your eyebrows raising slightly. "Oh! What is it?"

"Just read it," Eddie said, trying to keep his voice steady.

You nodded, your fingers trembling slightly as you opened the envelope. As you unfolded the letter, Eddie held his breath, watching your expression shift from curiosity to surprise, then finally to something softer. Your eyes scanned the paper and Eddie could almost hear the rapid thumping of his own heart echoing in his ears.

"Eddie…" you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze flickered from the letter to his face, and he could see the mix of emotions swirling in your eyes — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something else he hoped was excitement.

"Do you really mean all of this?" you asked as you folded the letter carefully.

Eddie nodded, his throat dry. "Yeah. Every word. I know I haven't been great at showing it, but I care about you a lot, Y/N. You make this place — and my life — better just by being in it."

A soft blush crept up your cheeks, and you looked down at the letter again, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile. "I had no idea you felt this way," you replied, your tone sincere. "I thought you were just being friendly."

"I was trying to be," Eddie admitted, his nerves easing slightly. "But it's hard to ignore how perfect you are."

Your smile widened and you took a small step closer to him. "Eddie, this means a lot to me. I can't believe you were brave enough to write all of this. It's beautiful."

His heart soared at your words. "I just felt like I had to say it. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I didn't want to miss my chance."

Your expression softened and Eddie could see you processing everything. "You know, I've always thought you were incredible too. You're kind, dedicated, and you care about everyone around you. I just didn't know if you'd ever see me as more than a friend.”

"Trust me, I do," Eddie said, taking a step closer. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you for weeks."

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling. "Well, I'm glad you finally did. I just wish I'd noticed sooner. I do tend to be a little.. oblivious sometimes."

"You're not the only one," he replied, a smile spreading across his face. You both chuckled at that.

“So, where do we go from here?” You asked, your gaze landing on his face, searching for answers.

Eddie’s heart raced as he contemplated the question. "How about we start with a date? Just you and me. I'd love to take you out to dinner — somewhere nice, where we can actually talk."

"I'd like that," you said, your expression brightening.

Eddie grinned, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Great! I'll plan something special. Just tell me anything that I should avoid."

"Definitely seafood," you said with a small laugh. "I'm not necessarily a fan of fish."

"Noted!" Eddie replied, a warm smile on his face. "No seafood. I can work with that."

Later that evening, Eddie joined his friends in the common area. They were scattered around the table and he felt a sudden surge of confidence. "Hey, everyone!" Eddie called out, catching their attention. "I have an announcement."

Buck leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What’s up? You finally figured out how to ask Y/N out?"

Eddie chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. "Actually, I did. We're going on a date!" The place erupted in cheers, and Eddie felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement wash over him. Buck jumped up, clapping him on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

The following days you and Eddie exchanged texts, planning your date. He learned about your favorite foods, your love for your hobby, and your aspirations for the future. Every conversation brought him closer to you, making him fall head over heels.

Finally, the day of the date arrived. Eddie found himself pacing around his apartment, checking the time and making sure he looked just right. He had opted for a casual but nice outfit — dark jeans and a fitted shirt.

When he arrived at the restaurant, Eddie felt a rush of nerves. But as soon as you walked through the door, looking gorgeous in the outfit you had picked out, all his anxiety melted away. You greeted him with a smile, and in that moment, he knew he had made the right choice.

"Wow, you look amazing," he said, his breath catching in his throat.

You blushed, your cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Thank you!" you respond, suddenly feeling too shy to say anything else.

You were seated at a cozy table with soft lighting, and as you began to chat over dinner, Eddie found himself captivated by your stories. You spoke all about your recent volunteering activities and your dreams. Eddie felt lighter than he had in a long time, as if the weight of his nervousness had lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence.

As you left the restaurant, Eddie reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You looked up at him, surprise lighting your features before you smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked, searching your eyes.

"More than okay," you replied softly, your cheeks flushing.

Walking side by side, you talked and laughed, enjoying the cool night air. Eddie felt a sense of happiness he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and as you neared your car, he knew he wanted to see you again soon.

"Let's do this again," he said, feeling a rush of determination. "I'd love to take you out again. Maybe next week?"

"Definitely," you responded, your eyes sparkling. "I'd love that."

As you reached your car, you turned to face him and he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss that left both of you breathless. Pulling away, Eddie smiled, the warmth of the moment lingering between them. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Eddie," you replied, a smile on your face.

911 masterlist

#eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #911 fic #911 abc #911 fox #911 x reader #911 #imagine #edmundo diaz #edmundo eddie diaz

123 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year ago

Text

Your Mark On Me, Part 11

Summary: can Steve be honest with himself, with you, and with his best friend?

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of markings, mentions of biting, bruises, unprotected sex, PIV sex, degradation, manhandling, creampie, cockwarming in public, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*tattoo edit by @randomagnes0210

Steve smiles as he looks over your sleeping body. A warm comfort fills his entire insides up. You look more beautiful now, in this state of sprawled out mess than he has ever seen you. Perfect. No one could ever compare to you. And seeing you like this he takes the time to think about all that had happened between the two of you. Of how he’s never spent the time on anyone that he has on you. You’ve surpassed his every fantasy he’s had.

Picking up his phone, he scrolls through his messages. Having to scroll down further than he ever has for this contact before clicking it. His hand hovers over the keyboard a moment. Fingers tapping over the glass, before he erases everything he had just typed. He didn’t know what to say.

Laying his phone down he stares at you. Chuckling to himself because even asleep, you knew what you were doing. Turned on your side, and giving him the sweetest sneaky peek of your cunt. Your lips swollen and puffy from the pounding he had been giving you. Glistening in the early morning light, and ready to take him again. You really are his little slut.

Bruises and marks splattered over various parts of your skin. If you didn’t show that you did in fact like it, he would hate himself. He’s amazed at himself for how many different places his mouth had left their mark on your body. Reddened bruises and even teeth marks. Having to bit you for the amount of pleasure that overwhelmed his body.

He wants to hate himself for causing you any bit of pain or discomfort, and then you sigh in your sleep. Your body stretches out even more, and pushes the blankets down your body. You are a work of art. That little grin that pulls up your mouth. You’re, for now, satiated. You had proven to be just as much of a fend as him.

If you were awake, you were filled with him. So now he sits quietly, and hopes you can actually rest. You hadn’t gotten used to his size. And he coos at you with every wince when he stretches you open. It’s adorable, and he can tell you hate how he goes a bit softer as he’s entering you. Steve is a bit of a contradictory roller coaster, but especially during sex.

Steve hears a little tap on his bedroom door, and he pulls the covers back over you. He got the alert that Sam was driving up here, so it wasn’t a surprise. “Come in,” Steve whispers, and presses his hand on your bum when you stir. He wants you to sleep for a few hours this time. No more naps.

Sam waits in the doorway, watching the two of you. Noting how Steve can’t turn away. He rolls his eyes as he leans against the doorframe, “You get it now?”

“Get what?”

Steve still never stops to look at Sam. In the few days you have been holed up in the cabin, Sam sees a real change in Steve. There isn’t that hardness that’s usually present. “You finally understand caring for someone more than yourself,” Steve looks up at his friend, and responds by nodding his head.

”Dove looks exhausted.”

”I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to. She is worse than me,” you weren’t quite there. But it wouldn’t take much. You were experimental with sex. Willing to try whatever Steve wanted to.

”I’m doubtful of that,” Steve huffs out a laugh, and turns to look back at you. You are too soft for him, and yet there’s this devil that lurks under your top layer of sweetness. “You need to call Bucky.”

”Why?”

“Because, you get why he was angry. Why he needed to leave. Why he knew you needed to protect Dove. Bucky knew before you did that you had found your person, and he didn’t want you to scare her away. And then you insulted his fiance,” feeling a bit of shame makes Steve unable to look up at Sam. But his eyes flick towards his phone. he’s tried a few times to text Bucky since you two hadn’t left this cabin. Barely even ate.

“Imagine someone calling Dove a basket case,” his heart feels like someone is squeezing it, and he has to watch you sleep to center himself. “Bucky and Shy deserve your respect. The things Bucky has done for Dove were for you. Call him. I think Shy would do Dove some good. Maybe she can soften your darkened Dove. I can’t believe she was this sweet little innocent girl. And now…”

“Sam, I’m going to marry her, and make her the mother of my children.”

“Then call Bucky. My wife sent me with a basket of food. Feed her.”

Steve didn’t have to tell Sam that he had been thinking of calling, well texting, Bucky. Sam had this ability to just know. It’s why he completed their friendship. He is the steady one. The one that helps keep them in line. And the one that isn’t afraid to call either of them out. And if he was letting it be known that Steve needed to talk to Bucky it was time.

But first, he was going to enjoy you again. But going back into the real world was looming ever closer. He couldn’t keep you here, even if he wanted to. Make you just take him whenever he feels like it. Work had to be done. He had an empire. And he needed his other part to join back in with the business.

”Mmm,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. “Captain, why isn’t your cock deep in my cunt, and fucking me awake?”

“And why is my pretty little bird saying fuck when I’m not inside her?”

“What is my captain going to do about it?” He gives you an evil grin, before ripping your legs apart. Positioning you more on your knees, lifting you up to get the perfect angle. He spits into his hand, and you mewl. Turning your head back to look at him as his thick hand runs through your folds.

“You’re drenched.”

“Because I need you to fuck me,” he draws his hand back, and quickly slaps over your bare center. “Fucking destroy me. Just…mmm,” moaning when he gets to his knees and his monstrous cock springs up to life. Dripping in precum as he presses hard in between your shoulder blades, and pushing you into the mattress. “You gonna fuck me, Captain.”

“Nope,” he chuckles as he lines himself up, he roams his silky steel rod between your lips. Coating Clarence in your juices, while you whimper into the sheets. “I’m going to murder your pussy,” he says, and with the next breath his hips push him through your sensitive cunt.

It stings, and you’re tender, but the fact you can hear Steve groan in pleasure behind you sets your soul soaring. His hands grope hard over your hips as he pistons deep inside of you. Becoming one with him again, and you start to sink into the bed with his force.

Stabbing into you with no remorse, until you’re flat on the bed, and still he jams himself deeper. “Is that what it takes to keep my little bird happy? Dovey, you need me to treat you like my little slut that bad?”

“Uh huh. Mmm,” your knuckles change color with how tight you cling to the sheets, and still you want more. Would be completely satisfied with Steve's entire weight pushing himself into you. The pleasure is just too much as you feel your body go into a different place. This was heaven. And Steve reminded you of this beautiful place multiple times a day.

He wants himself to be your religion. Needs you to desire nothing more than him. Like all you needed to survive was Steve Rogers. Your body acts on its own accord, and keeps your ass pointed up, so he can get extra deep. Could feel him all the way in your throat as he rearranges your insides. Accommodating him in a way no one ever has. Letting him use you as his little sex doll.

Manhandling you into whatever position he wanted. You couldn’t make up your mind on what feels the best because you just need him inside of you. Need to feel the way his piercing drags onto your skin as he pulls himself out, and then stabs right back into you. You were no longer human. Or yourself. You are just his.

“Steve!” You scream, muttering out gibberish. Speaking in tongues as you soar high with pleasured pain.

”You’re so fucking dumb for my cock, aren’t ya, Dovey? Sweet little Dove getting herself turned inside out for Steve Rogers’ cock. And she looks so pretty taking every bit of me. Doesn’t matter that it hurts a bit. We make it fit, huh?”

“Yeah. Yes! Steve, I’m coming. I’m coming!”

“My god, yes, you are. Got me in a fucking vice grip. Fuck, Dovey. You feel how deep I am?” You feel me flowing through your veins?” He reset everything in your body. You were the worst addict. You need a hit of him constantly. You would let this man treat you like a fucking rag doll, thanking him, and begging him to do it again.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! So fucking tight. So fucking warm. Dovey, you got me coated in your pretty cum. Are you ready to feel me? Ready for me to paint the insides of you?”

“Please, Captain. Want you inside of me all day.”

”You fucking whore. You sweet fucking slut of mine! Ahh!” He screams as his load shoots into your belly. Your brows raise in satisfaction as your walls milk every bit of his warmth. Swallowing his essence to keep inside of you for the times he couldn’t be. “You like that, baby?”

“It feels so good,” you sigh. Ready to cry as he starts to pull out of you. “But I hate when you do that.”

”I know, sweet Dovey,” leaning forward he leaves the sweetest kisses down your slit. Finishing on your clit, before righting himself, and staring at his handy work. “I love seeing you wide open because of me. Your cunt swollen, and would you look at that. Mmmm,” he moans as his cum starts to seep out. “Never miss a drop, hmm? You my sweet cum slut?”

”I’m whatever you want me to be.”

”And I want you filled, and leaking of my cum today. We got to go into the real world.”

”But Steve,” you start to protest, but he pushes three fingers into your gaping hole. Stopping all your thoughts because he just feels that damn good.

”You are only quiet when you’re stuffed. Shh, I’m talking, you listen. As much as I would love to fuck you like the little slut you are, we have to be adults. We have a life. I have a business. We can’t…Dove, you’ve got that look on your face. What do you want?”

“Can…no one has to know, but can I keep you warm today? We both get what we want,” he promised to make you sit and take him while he conducted business. And now you want to collect on that promise. You didn’t know who knew that you were full of Steve. It was your silent way of claiming him for everyone to see. He belonged to you.

”You’re killing me.”

”And I feel empty. You don’t want me to feel empty, do you? Steve? Captain? Please, can I keep your cock warm? I’ll sleep,” honestly, sleeping with him inside of you sounded peaceful. You knew that you could rest as long as he was there.

You are a menace to him. You broke down most of his walls, and made him want to do nothing more but to spoil you and give you whatever you want. “You better actually sleep,” just your smile, and the wiggle of your ass is enough for him to know that he made the right decision. You are his, and everyone needs to understand that they will respect you. Only he can degrade you. And he will. Later.

He never tires of watching you. Even now with his cock nestled inside of you, and your eyes gently closed, a soft snore of exhaustion hums off your lips, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t care when everyone walks into the meeting room to see you sitting atop his lap, with your legs lazily dangling beside him.

Sure they could know that he is stretching you out. They can see you snuggled up against his disgusting burn mark. Able to watch your lips pucker out and kiss his mark. Your little sleepy sigh is the loudest noise in the otherwise silent meeting room.

This room is supposed to be his safe space. Everyone here should respect not only you, but will be willing to protect you at all cost. It’s an understood thing. Nobody here should take stock of how even when Steve speaks, his voice is softer. Whispering so he doesn’t wake you.

While everyone is listening to Steve, Sam’s eyes roam around the room. He can multitask. He isn’t quite as trusting as Steve. He thinks showing Steve’s weakness and vulnerability is a risky move. Sam doesn’t care that you’re here. It’s the intimacy of your position, and how he is just letting you be.

Steve has fucked many a woman in front of people. Humiliated them, and treated them as nothing more than a way to get his dick wet. But this is care. Steve couldn’t say the word, but it was love. Pulling down your skirt so no one could see any part of your exposed skin.

And then without thinking Steve kisses your cheek. Giving a nod to everyone at the table, and letting them know what their territories are. Sending them on their way, while Sam taps a finger on the table.

“What, Samuel?”

“You’re getting sloppy in love, Steven,” his blue eyes turn up to look at Sam, shaking his head. “Your vulnerability is putting the biggest target on her.”

”I’ll kill anyone that tries to hurt her.”

”Some people don’t just try. Some will do anything to destroy you, and you’ve allowed everyone to see what will kill you. Losing her.”

”Ready a car,” Steve says as he looks up at Sam. “I’m going to take her to see Bucky and Shy,” he looks back at you when you giggle. Swishing your body around when you peek to look at him. “You rotten brat.”

”I like Bucky, Captain,” trying to move again, he holds tightly to your hips, holding you steady.

Sam nods his head, and goes to make sure a car is ready for the two of you. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper as your hands smooth up his chest.

”For what, Dovey? What could you possibly have to thank me for?”

“For letting me go see Bucky. But I’m not the only one that misses him, am I?” Steve rarely admits when he’s wrong. This time he does, but just barely he gives a single nod. “I knew it. You need him. He’s a part of you. Just like me, huh?”

“You are definitely a part of me, my sweet Dove. You mean more to me than you’ll ever realize. And yes, just like Bucky and Sam.”

”Then it’s time for you to accept that they have a special someone. Just. Like. You,” you’re so rotten with your little grin. Tapping on his chest to emphasize every word.

”Yes, darling. You are so smart when it comes to my feelings. I’ll let you handle those from now on,” with a sweet laugh, you lean up to give him a chaste kiss. Getting a bit of a growl from him. “Dovey, you have been keeping me warm for awhile, and to finally feel some friction is making me want to fuck you so hard on this table.”

”Do it then,” rolling his eyes he stands up, letting you drop onto the table with a bit more force than you were expecting, and he pulls himself out of the depths of your body. Hands behind your knees, he lifts your legs, pinning them on the table.

Cocking up an eyebrow, he lets a string of saliva drip down to your entrance, “You really are a slutty brat, did you know?”

“Maybe you need to make me behave. Cap—tain,” you screech as he enters back into you. Slamming your hands above your head, he sets a feral pace. They two of you needy for this. An hour of feeling him was a slight torture, and now he needs you in an animalistic way.

“Dove, I…” he growls, shaking his head. “I fucking love feeling you.”

”And I love feeling you,” he’s such an ass sometimes. Let him have his fun shoving himself into you balls deep. Let him hear the squelching sounds echoing in the room, and the table legs scratching across the floor with every thrust.

“Steve, it’s enough for now,” tears of pleasure fill your eyes as you stare up at him. You’d break him. He is getting there, even if it is slowly. You could feel it from him. And it was enough for now.

Leaning forward he captures your lips with his own. You love feeling his weight on you. Able to feel every bit of him on every inch of your body. He truly is the perfect fit. The two of you soak each other up. Never even pulling apart when euphoria spreads through both of your bodies. Sharing your pleasure as he spurts his cum into you.

Kisses continue, and you’re too wrapped up in each other to notice cold blue eyes stare at the two of you. Steve truly is a fool.

“Stop fidgeting,” Steve says softly, while your eyes stare at the ever passing trees. You couldn’t stop. It had been so long since you saw Bucky. And the last time Steve did, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. “Dove. Dovey! Little bird,” he coos over to you.

You finally look at him, your eyes shining with confusion. “Tell me what’s wrong,” this isn’t a question. It is a command, and you feel overly compelled to tell him everything. All that you have been thinking about during this drive.

“What if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me? What if Bucky doesn’t want to see me? What if…?”

“What if you just breathe, sweetheart? Bucky likes you, and I don’t think that will change. From my understanding his Shy girl is a bit backwards. She observes more than she reacts. So she might not say much. And if she does, that is just her opinion. What about mine? And I love…spending time with you,” you narrow your eyes at him, and look back out the front windshield. He could be so infuriating at times. You’re hoping that he would just make a mistake, and say it. It seems to be right on the tip of his tongue.

“I want her to like me though. Because Bucky loves her. Even asked her to marry him. Isn’t that something?”

“Yes, so romantic to finally propose after years of being together.”

“Don’t put a timeline on people’s relationship, Steve.”

“Then don’t put one on ours,” his hand moves to your thigh. Giving your soft skin a bit of a squeeze. “Just live in the moment, honey. Ahh, there’s their home.”

“Is it a necessary thing to have your homes be out in the middle of nowhere?” You bite at your lip, looking up at their home. It was bigger than you had expected. Much too big for two people. Even bigger than Steve’s cabin which was nothing to scoff at.

“Shy doesn’t like people. She’s a bit of a recluse. And they built this home together. Designed it for what they wanted out of life, and she has no intentions of leaving. This is their forever home, the cabin is not my forever home. Let’s go, little bird. Stand up straight and smile when the door opens. Don’t make me have to get onto you. Be a brat when it’s the two of us. Do you understand?”

You do. With a sweet smile, you reach for the door, but Steve clears his throat, opening his, and your hands fall to your lap. Watching as he jogs to your side of the door. You can’t help but to beam up at him when he opens your door, extending his arm down for you to take.

He keeps a firm grip on your waist as he walks up to the house. Knocking on the door, his hand goes to your chin, and he lifts your face to look up. Despising when you don’t exude confidence. And then the door opens to the cutest woman, and your eyes fall to her stomach.

“Oh my god! You’re having a baby!” Steve looks over at you confused, and your hands reach forward before retreating. “Can I?” She giggles, but nods her head yes, and you press your hands against her belly. “How far along are you? Steve! I felt the baby.”

“We’re twenty-seven weeks. Bucky and Alpine are spoiling me rotten.”

“Alpine?” Shy points down to her leg, and you see the fluffy cat circling her body. Squatting down you hold a hand out to her, and she leans into you without hesitation. “Are you protecting your mama and baby during this time? Making biscuits on your baby’s home? I bet you are the best kitty in the entire world, huh, pretty girl?”

“Steve, you’re drooling,” Bucky whispers to his friend. “You look different, buddy. Must be…well, Dove is making a good man out of you. Grab her up, let’s come inside, or we can go to the backyard. Shy has almost got it perfect. She’s got her an English garden look out there. Something she’s always wanted since she was a kid. The Secret Garden is her favorite.”

Steve pulls at your arm, and you stand up. Giving a big smile to your former guard. “Come on, Dove, Shy won’t bite if you give me a hug. I’d be more worried about your idiot boyfriend,” giggling, you jump into his arms. Squeezing around his neck so tight, you worry he can’t breathe.

“I missed you, too, ya heathen. Come on, I think all four of us need to talk,” and you did. Lots of talk. So much time was missed. And you knew that there was a part of this relationship that would never be the same. Bucky had three things right here that meant more to him than his own life. He wasn’t risking his life to save yours and Steve’s anymore. The only risks he would be taking would be to keep him alive to see his family one more day.

While you might not ever be Shy’s favorite, you can see her curiosity towards you is real. She keeps her eyes on you, but smiles since her cat is so familiar with you. Alpine bounces between walking in front of you to walking in front of her. Ultimately choosing her family. It’s as it should be. Bucky is doing the same. And with a look up at Steve, you understood. You understood all too well.

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloski @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @lyndys @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeyhoneylovelylove

#your mark on me #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fics #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #chris evans #chris evans character #tattoo

389 notes · View notes