#what is with this flare up? there’s no logical reason for it to be this bad!!!

[writingwolverina]

Burial Hymn for A Dislocated Rib

Or, an excerpt from ‘In Perpetuum’, in which Laz Atwater loses his patience.

(TW for gore and self harm)

—

Sometimes I feel like I need to start over. As though if I allow my body to grow itself from scratch, the aches and the soreness and the ways that I was forced to heal incorrectly will solve themselves and I will live without pain. I forget about the way my twitching muscles will struggle to hold my bones in their places, how my head will throb from dehydration while my veins contract around what little blood still flows through them. No, I forget the truth of the matter in favor of my fantasy where a new body will form and that body will be perfect. Then I dig my fingers under the edges of my rib cage and pry them open, letting each rib stab into my chest, puncture my lungs, restrain my breathing as my heart thunders against each cracking, concave rod. I peel my own skin back like I’m skinning a rabbit, I press my knife between the joints in my hip and i crank it, wrench it, force the tendons apart and the meat of my flesh tears as I butcher myself. It is a lapse of sanity and it is a desperate gamble to gain it back. I dismember and dismantle myself, pry out each tooth one by one, pull my entrails out hand over hand until my stomach is empty. I bleed myself like a pig. I hope it will kill me. It never does.

And it never does what I want it to, either. I am always in pain every moment of my reformation. I will never be whole — something will heal wrong, something new, some ache or pain that I never had before. A kink in my back that I have to stretch every hour where I never used to. A soreness in my shoulders when I sleep on my side, a click in my knee when I walk up the stairs. A throbbing in my knuckles, a twinge in my eye. A rotating cast of symptoms I can never outrun and never recover from.

But they will be new pains at least. The old pains will be gone. It will be refreshing, these new terrors. I hope I will be refreshed, anyway. The only reason I tear myself apart is because I cannot bear the monotonous hum of underlying ripping, tearing, stabbing pain I am in. I need it to change its tune. I need to change it even if it means digging a blade into myself and hoping I’m hitting the right nerves, the right chords, rearranging the right bones into the right place.

I take a deep breath and feel shooting pain. One of my ribs healed incorrectly. If I breathe as my instinct is to breathe, keep my breaths shallow, I don’t notice it, but if I inflate my lungs to my fullest it stabs into me, presses into the air-filled sack and threatens to puncture it, though my subconscious won’t let me get to that point.

There is the impulse to reach into my chest and snap it, move it out of the way. But I have been in enough pain today.

This will have to be an ache I tolerate until the next time I reach my limit and search for new agony in rebirth.

[cactusdodes]

.

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbors au Simon Riley/female reader

The hallway creaks under his feet. 

The floorboards talk to him, tell him stories, narrating the tread worn in the carpet, countless steps tracked up and down, past his door at all hours of the day and night. 

Past yours. 

He notices your light is on when he gets in, warm yellow glow spilling out from your back door, illuminating your hunched figure perched on your little metal chair, glow from an e-reader spilling across your face. A mix of the light from your living room, the shimmer of the moon, and the white, soft incandescence of your book bathes you in a gleam of angelic color, celestial reflection of what he believes may already be half true.

Sweet angel. 

“Up late?” He asks over the balcony divider, and you squint at him, eyes adjusting in the pale darkness. 

“Emma’s been on a weird schedule. Couldn’t go back to sleep after I put her back down an hour ago.” His hands slide into his pockets, a natural reflex, and he nods, the movement expected against the emptiness that greets his fingers. He wants a cigarette. Craves it, but intentionally left them inside. 

He doesn’t think you like it, the smoking. And for some unsettling reason, he cares what you think. 

The monitor crackles alive with the sound of hoarse cry, high pitch and sharp, and you excuse yourself, slipping inside to answer Emmaline’s distraught wails. 

He leans against his side of the railing, mind wandering to his schedule for tomorrow, an on base meeting that’s sure to be irritating, followed by a training evaluation that he’s been putting off for far too long. 

The monitor’s lights flare, picking up noise, and his mind screams to a halt when the speaker starts to vibrate with your voice. 

“Hey, little sweet. Shhh, shhh, I know. You’re such a sleepy girl, aren’t you?” You hum something, a melody of some kind that he can’t place, and Emma makes soft little noises, prompting you to talk to her every time they start to tick upwards into a cry. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mum’s here. I’m right here.” He stands, transfixed, frozen, listening, eavesdropping, to every little sound, hanging on every word like you're feeding him crumbs of your soft, soothing voice and Emmaline’s sleepy, grumpy coos. 

When you reappear back on the balcony ten minutes later, it’s with the baby against your chest, her chubby little arms and legs tucked into a blanket, wrapped up like burrito, sweet little face peeking over the fleece lining. “Someone,” you rub her back, “is not keen on going back to sleep.” She’s wide eyed, wide awake, and you step closer to his side, his hand automatically going out to rub a thumb against her cheek. 

“What’s wrong, baby girl, not goin’ let mum get any rest tonight?” You smile softly, gaze sweet and gentle when it bounces between his face and hers. 

“Afraid not.” You lean forward, brushing your lips against the crown her head. “She’s pretty unhappy unless she’s being held, lately.” He feels for you, can see how tough it must be, how tired you are, and a fire fueled yearning enflames throughout him, desire and desperation battling against his self-control, his logical mind.

You sigh, swaying slightly with her, trying to rock her into a sleepy state, and he’s content to stay outside with you, watching. Enjoying the way you lean into your instincts, your motherhood, soft edges complemented by sharp ones, your baby safe and slipping into a dream from your arms something that he can’t not marvel at. It doesn’t take long for her to be completely out, and you release a long sigh of relief. 

“Alright, time to try again.” You whisper, and he nods, catching a whiff of your shampoo as you turn to head inside with a whisper, coconut and lavender nearly making him dizzy. “Goodnight, Simon.” 

“Goodnight.”

[briefalpacashark]

~The drink~

Warning: mention of date rape drugs. Spiking of drinks. Involuntary drug consumption.

Can be triggering for anyone who had experienced anything similar.

================================================

You didn't drink much. You had your own reasons, but every now and then you would let loose. You had headed to the bar you and the 141 usually frequented, only to find that there seemed to be an event on. A bass boosting, strobe and glow lights club event. It was fuller than it usually was and with it being the only bar for miles around; it was packed. Price and Ghost didn't seem pleased with it, but Jonny and Gaz didn't mind. As you filed into the bar, the smell of sweat and drinks filled your nose. 

“Y/N!” two girls stumbled out of the crowd, practically crashing you in a hug. Other medics from the base, the ones you would call friends. There was Rosie, a gorgeous blond and Anna, the embodiment of an African Queen.

“SORRY WERE STEALING HER!” Even though the music was loud, their yell seemed louder as they practically dragged you away. You mouthed a quick apology to the guys who waved you off and moved to their regular spot. After a lot of pleading, begging and water works, the girls managed to convince you to have a few drinks. 

You were having a good time. Dancing, if you could call it that. You were just practically jumping up and down constantly. You had had three drinks, nothing too strong and nothing that would have you feeling the way you did.

Your sight was fuzzy.

Your limbs felt heavy.

The music sounded dull, and the lights started to move on their own. 

You had been drugged. A sensation you were sadly familiar with. 

“I need to go!” It was a panic that had the words forced from your throat. Only your friends were basically blind drunk. They barely heard your words. 

When did it happen? You had kept an eye on your drink. You never left it unattended. Hell you even held it in a way that you hand covered most of the top at all times. Your breath caught in your throat as someone bumped into you, shoving you away from your friends. You searched for them when you recovered, only having to hold your head as it started to spin. 

The boys.

Drink in hand you stumbled through the bodies breathing a sigh of relief as you made it out of the mosh pit. Finally able to get proper air into your lungs, your vision cleared slightly. You spotted the lads all focused on a tv screen that was playing the latest match. You practically fell into the table, the force almost knocking a few of their drinks over. You felt extremely drunk.

“Whoah!” Jonny exclaimed quickly, catching his drink as they all flinched at your sudden appearance.

“Shit sorry,” you mumbled, pushing yourself up into a standing position relying heavily on the table in front of you. You looked absolutely wasted. 

“Went a bit hard on the drinks, eh?” Price asked with a bemused smile.

“Though Australians were supposed to be good at holding their liquor,” Gaz said, earning a few laughs. You forced a nervous laugh of your own.

“You alright love?” It was Ghost that asked the question. When the boys gave him confused looks at the level of concern in his voice he simply nodded down to your hands that shook, even while they tightly gripped the table. “My uh, my drinks been spiked,” you whispered. The atmosphere did a one sixty all the boys expression suddenly turning dark. Their bodies tensed, their jaws locked as anger flared inside them. 

“The fuck?” Jonny hissed as his eyes instantly searched for the culprit.

“Sure you're not just drunk love?” Price asked. It wasn't like he didn't believe you. It was just his stupide logical captain brain. You raised your head, your fearful expression giving him all the answers he needed.

“No, I've uh, I've been spiked before. This is different, though. It's not something normal, this guy knows what he's doing,” you whispered. Jonny stood, reaching for you to offer support or comfort. He froze as you flinched away. An action all the boys took note off.

“I'm calling the police,” Gaz announced, holding his phone to his ear. 

“Come on love, let's get you out of here,” Jonny suggested gently.

“No, if I leave, he'll just do it to the next girl. We, we gotta catch him,” you muttered.

“You're in no state, love,” Jonny tried to reason with you.

“Don't baby me. I know what I can handle. What I'm going to do it I'm gonna go sit at the bar. Whoever drugged me will be looking for the opportunity to get me out of here. When he comes for me, then you guys get him alright. Restrain him till the cops come ok,” even in your state, your firm words had the boys considering them. You were right. Logically, it was the best way to draw the creep out.

“You see, who did it, love?” Price asked. You shock your head. 

“Are you sure you're ready to do this?” Ghost asked. His steady concerned gaze that locked with yours's had your breathing returning to normal. His big brown eyes anchoring you.

“I trust you guys,” you stated simply, as if it was to answer. Giving them a nod you turned on your heal and stumbled over to the bar on the far side using the furniture to aid you. When you did manage to sit down, the panic started to creep back up. It was just the drug, you tried to convince yourself. You had been in plenty more sticky situations. In unison the boys fanned out, all keeping an eye on you as they took different positions around the room. Gaz by the door, ready for the police. Price a few seats down from you and Jonny hanging around. You didn't know where Ghost was, probably hiding in the shadows somewhere. Your head dropped to the cold slightly sticky surface of the bar as you were hit with another dizzy spell.

“There you are, sweetheart,” the sickly sweet voice slid over your ears sending a disgusted shiver through your body. A voice you had never heard before. “Come on, let's get you home,” his arms wrapped around you. You wanted to fight him off, but you just felt so sluggish. Your elbow attempted a weak push. Before he could pull you out of your chair, his presence suddenly disappeared. It was a bit of a blur at that stage. You could hear sounds, a scream somewhere. You heard yelling. 

“TAKE IT OUTSIDE!” The Bar owner screamed over you. 

“Gladly,” It was Ghost voice that sounded. You pushed yourself up, turning around to see Ghost pulling a man out of the bar by the scruff of his collar. 

“Lovey, it's me Jonny,” Jonny announced his presence as he walked up to your side with Gaz in tow. After your flinch before he was being extra cautious.

“Jonny,” you forced a smile as you turned to him. When he suddenly turned into triplets.

“Come on love,” he gently helped you out of the chair tucking you protectively under his arm, and out into the cold air of the night. It was refreshing to have it in your lungs. But it stung.

Jonny helped you to a bench, setting you down. The world was spinning. With a deep breath, you dropped your head to your hands. After a bit Ghost and Price returned with the man, his arms zipped tied behind his back, his face bloody and beaten. One of his arms hung limply at the shoulder joint. Price had found the drugs he had used in his pocket shoving a few down his throat for good measure. 

“It's him alright. Confused and everything," Price announced holding the drugs up. 

“Hell yeah. Vigilante team for the win!” you wobbly pumped your fist into the air before letting it drop.

“I'm cold,” you muttered through a shiver. Almost instantly a large coat was draped over you. The scent of Ghost filled your senses as you tucked yourself into the folds of the warmth.

“Fuckin cunt,” Jonny growled in disgust as he pulled the man ruffly over to the side of the road delivering a kick for good measure. Gaz glared down at the man logging a ball of spit directly to his feet. 

“Hey,” you rose your head coming face to face with a kneeling Ghost. who placed a gentle hand on your knee his thumb rubbing it gently.

“You need to chuck ya guts. Get whatever's in ya stomach out,” he stated simply. 

“Shit, you're right. Let me just press the button that instantly activated my regurgitation feature,” although drugged out of your mind you still quipped at them. If anything, it was reassuring to hear it. 

“I can shove my fingers down your throat if ya like,” he offered jokingly.

“Promise?” The boys' eyes widened at the seductive tone your voice took. It even stuck poor Simon into a monetary freeze. Only then did they notice the blush that dusted your cheeks. Molly you thought. Something the man probably mixed with his drug.

“Oh don't get your panties in a twist Lieutenant. Just get me some tequila. A shot of that and you'll all get a pretty picture of what I had for lunch,” You chuckled half assed. Gaz quickly did as he was told. Boy you didn't even have to taste it to chuck your guts. 

Why? Simple. Schoolies, yourself, teenage confidence, a dumb bet and a bottle of tequila. You couldn't drink the stuff without emptying your guts.

Ghost patted your back as you fertilized the pot plant nearby. You briefly took in the blue and red flashing lights as the police pulled up. It was quite a scene. Your head in a pot plant. Ghost holding your hair back. Jonny and Price standing side by side with the man hung loosely between them. Gaz standing by you with a water bottle at the ready. The police officers, one male and one female approached your group with caution. 

“Officer. This guy drugged and attempted to take advantage of our friend there. Here is the drink that was spiked. The drugs we found in his pocket. And the camera footage proving he did so,” Price handed over all the items that had quickly been collected. The police officer stood taking it all, looking over the group before his eyes dropped to the man.

“The fuck happened to him?” he asked.

“We found him like that,” Price stated with an innocent smile, not bothering to hide the blood on his hand. Jonny smiled innocently and Ghost simply glared, daring the police to do something about it.

“Alright well put him in the back, is she alright to come down to the station to provide a statement?” His question was answered by the lovely melody of your insides becoming your outsides.

“Don't think that's necessary. But we can come down tomorrow to provide a blood sample for proof," Price suggested. 

“How do we know you're not the ones who drugged her?” You were grateful for the female officer's concern. But you just wanted to go home.

“Don't accuse them. These,” you pushed yourself up, gesturing wildly around you. “These are my boys. I love these fuckers.” Your words began to slur as you blinked one eye a bit more delayed than the other. You leaned against the pot putting the other hand on your hip. 

“I'd trust these cunts with my life,” you stated proudly.

“Aw she called us cunts,” Jonny cooed as he ruffly shoved the man into the back of the police car. “Accidental” knocking him harshly against the side of the door a few times.

You weren't sure how you got into the back of the car, but you did know one thing. You were fucking horney. Your eyes lazily trailed over the handsome men in the car. Your heart was beating a million beats per second as you weighed your options. Have you thought about fucking them before. Who wouldn't. They were stunning all in their own unique way. Heat was flushing all through your body. Your eyes trailed to Simon who sat next to you.

‘Fuck, I’d ride that man like a bronco,’ the dirty thought had your face turning compltley red. You couldn't believe you had just thought that. You wanted him. And by the way your body was feeling you were sure you were about to act on that want.

“Nope not doing this,” you suddenly announced. Yells of fright sounded as you opened the door, throwing yourself from the relatively slow moving car. You were back on the base you gathered. But nowhere near your barracks. You tucked and rolled with the fall popping back up immediately and high tailing it out of there. The four guys ran after you. As they rounded a building they frowned when they couldn't see you. What they did see was your shirt gently falling to the ground. Their eyes instantly snapped up to the roof of the building where you stood.

“The fuck,”Jonny wispered as they all stepped back to better see you. 

“How do she mange to climb all this shit?” Gaz asked searching for the path you used to get to the roof.

“Get down from there, sergeant!” Price ordered. 

“Fuck you Price!” You yelled pulling a boot off and chucking casually off the side of the building. 

“What are you doing?!” Gaz yelled.

“What does it look like? I'm undressing. It's to fucking hot!” You yelled unbuttoning your pants. For the record, it wasn't hot. It was cold. So cold that the boys could see their breaths. You just hoped that getting your temperature under control would dull the urges you were having.

“What are you doing up there? Get down come on it's not safe love!” Jonny tried to coax you down, all of them too scared to take their eyes off you in the fear that you would fall.

“Not safe for me. Bro I was just about to attack you guys,” you yelled, stomping out of your pants the boys sucking in a breath as you tilted to the side a bit more than they liked.

“What you mean love?” Price asked nodding Ghost forward who quickly made his way to look for a way up onto the roof.

“That fucker must have lased that shit with ecstasy. Cause in simple term Captain, I'm HORNEY AS FUCK!” you yelled into the open night air. All the boys paused momentarily at your words wondering if they had heard you right.

“Horney you say?” Johnny asked with a slight smirk. It was a terrible situation, no one would argue that. But the way you were acting was slightly entertaining.

“Yep!” you popped the p. 

“I was sitting in the car and I was like fuck. I could totally fuck these guys,” your shrugged casually. 

“Really?” Johnny asked.

“Oh yeah. I would have made my way thought you fuckers like a cougar that just came out of prison. I'd start with Price, cause that man knows how to fuck. Like he's probably got some real fucking skill. Just look at him,” You gestured to Price who blushed slightly at the statement.

“Then I go to Gaz. I dont know why but you look like youve got some fucking endurance,” you stated simply. 

“Id fuck Jonnys brains out cause we all know he can’t get a girl to save his life,” You had begun rambling. The boys were doing there best to keep their laughter in. Even though  you were talking about something so intimate they knew it would never happen. 

“I got with your friend Rosie didn't I?” Jonny asked.

“Yeah and so did half the fucking base. I would seriously consider getting all that checked out,” you gestured to his manly parts as Gaz laughed at his dead panned expression. 

“Oh and Simon!” You let out a low whistle.

“I'd take that poor man's innocence,” This time both Jonny and Gaz were full blown laughing. Price rubbed his mouth hiding a chuckle. And Simon, well he stepped up behind you. You didn't notice him. What you did notice was how constricting your bra felt.

“Fucking hate bras,” You muttered in once swift motion unclipping it and tossing it to the side.

“Fucking hell,” Price grumbled as they all quickly avoided there gaze. 

“Right,” you hear the mutter from behind you as you were suddenly enveloped by material. Simon used his jaket that you had discarded early to form a makeshift straight jacket. Which in three swift movements, he zipped up behind you and tired the sleeves around you. You let out a yelp as you were casually thrown over his shoulder. 

“I'm getting too old for this,” Price muttered.

After they got you checked out at the med bay they brought you back to the barracks. Simon was carrying you bridal style as you dropped in and out of sleep. Gently they set you in your bed and tucked you in still in the makeshift straight jacket. You snuggled into the warmth curling up.

“Night love,” Jonny muttered as they all moved to leave your room.

“Hey,” your back was facing towards them as they stopped at the entrance of your room. “I love you guys. You know that right?” you asked.

“Yeah we love you to lass,” Jonny smiled.

“I mean it,” you cut off his slightly joking tone. “Tonight I was really fucking scared. And you guys saved me. So thank you,” you whispered. The boys were not really sure how to respond to that. 

“Anytime love,” Price muttered.

“Good,” you nodded readjusting.

“Oh and Simon,” you called in a sing-song voice. He hummed a response.

“Offer still stands hot stuff,” you poked your head up giving him what you assumed was a seductive wink. It looked more like you were trying to get something out of your eyes.

“Sure thing love. Well, see if you remember your offer in the morning,” he stated simply shoving the chuckle Jonny out the room before closing the door. Even drugged to kingdom come you felt safe. Protected, so calm that you slipped into slumber without a second thought or a moment's worry. 

The next morning you awoke with not a single memory of the night before. You frowned at the pounding in your head, yet your confusion deepened when you tried to make sense of what you were wearing. The binds had come lose burning the night leaving you with the jacket still zipped up behind you. You could only remember the very start of the night. And the fact that your drink had been spiked. Once you managed to escape the contraption you donned some loose clothes and walked out into the rec room. Where the boys were all situated, Simon cooking breakfast, Gaz and Soap sitting watching tv and Pierce at the table reading a newspaper. At your appearance they boys all stopped what they were going and looked at you. There expression unreadable.

“Soooo,” You trailed off. “My drink got spiked,” you stated simply.

“That's Correct,” Price nodded, folding his newspaper and putting it aside.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Honestly not the worst hang over I've had,” you tried to make light of the situation with a soft-hearted chuckle.

“So, uh what happened exactly? I didn't do anything stupide did I?” you asked nervously. 

“Well,” Jonny began, only to be silenced by a wooden spoon hitting him with deadly precision.

“You came to us, asking for help. We got the guy and got you out of there. Brought you back to base where the docs checked you out, flushed the drugs out ya system the best they could and we tucked you into bed,” Price explained simply. 

“I see. And why was I nude and buried in a huge ass jacket?” you asked a deep blush creeping up into your cheeks. Millions of scenarios passed through your mind. So many possibilities that could have led you up to that point. 

“You had nicked Simon's jumper. You were moving around a bit last night from what we could hear. The doc said the drug would make you hot. Perhaps you just stripped in ya sleep,” Price gentle words gave you no reason to believe anything other than that happened. But there was a slight doubt in the back of your mind. You looked to Simon who had yet to meet your gaze. 

“So I didn't go streaking through base?” you asked. 

“Like streaking do ya?” Jonny asked with a wag of his eyebrows.

“Sober Y/N not so much. Blind drunk Y/N very much so,” you nodded. The boys chuckled, shaking their heads. If only you knew.

“Your fine love. Come sit down and eat something,” Price ordered you softly as Ghost set down the various foods. The breakfast was like any other one. The boys talked like they normally did. Once you got over the slight embarrassment of what happened, you fell back into a normal rhythm. 

Not before Price personally called you into his office to have a very serious chat about what happened. Where he suggested a visit to a syce and an offer to come to him if your ever needed anything.

Not before Jonny gifted you with a key ring taser and a graphic demonstration of where to aim for.

Not before Gaz bought you a nail polish that would change color whenever it came into contact with drugs.

Not before Ghost would sit beside you in silence his presence simply being a reassurance.

Not before the boys never pressed you again to drink when you said no.

Not before they got a glimpse into a very serious part of a woman's world.

Not before they grasped and understanding for it.

And not before they would watch your drinks like eagles whenever you would go out again. 

The most amazing thing about it was that they never once blamed you for it. The thought never crossed their minds. They never once pried if you had left your drink alone. They never once suggested that you took a drink a stranger had offered.

They were good men. And you were thankful that you had them in your life.

And little did you know that the man that drugged you would send the rest of his life in prison. Price managed to pull a few strings and get him charged with much more than he had originally done.

After he spent a month in intensive recovery.

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--COD Master List Here--

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[jazzsonly]

ꜱᴀᴅᴅᴇʀᴅᴀᴢᴇ.

pairing(s): cairo sweet x fem!reader

warning(s): stalker cairo, mentions cairo watching reader through their window, smoking, mention of reader’s mom passing away, mentions of reader having a ‘toned stomach’, minor detailed sexual content(nothing too major though).

summary: you become cairo’s newest work.

❝ sadderdays, why do they keep on using me? ❞

────────✬────────

cairo sweet didn’t believe in mistakes.

she believed there just was and there just wasn’t, and well, if you really wanted to, you could change the entirety of that was or wasn’t.

cairo also didn’t believe in much of a right or wrong, mankind was and would continue to be the most horrific thing to earth so it really all depended on what the domino effects of the things you did that made those things so ‘wrong’

or right.

in this case, watching through your window almost every night since the start of this summer wasn’t right or wrong nor was it her fault—it had to yours. what logical person, who knowingly had a window that mirrored the house right across the street wouldn’t put curtains up?

if you asked her, it was an invitation.

you prompted her, to watch you as she held a lit cigarette between her lips on most nights, letting the smoke fill her lungs and her mind full with thoughts of you.

you were tempting, all more in the ways she thought miller was. she was far more intrigued with you than she ever could be miller.

of course she wanted you, she wanted you more than anything—how could she not be (to her dismay) enflamed with you? shamelessly letting her hand slip into her pants as she watched you. again, it wasn’t her fault, it was merely yours for inviting her.

entertaining her.

though you’d never spoken, never even made eye contact with the girl she had made it clear to herself and somehow to you that you, indeed, knew all the things you were doing.

and though she felt this way, though she wanted you—her need to write you was far more important than any of that lustful bullshit.

she couldn’t just sit and stare at you forever, she needed to figure you out and figure you out fast before summer was over, though it was just mid-june. she needed something to wow yale.

her college essay needed to be perfect and you were just the target, because well, you just show up in the house that’s gone untouched for as long as she’s been trapped in her lonesome that her parents left her to all alone in this tennesse mansion.

she had a reasoning for being here, she knew her reason for being here, but what was your excuse? cause one thing is for damn sure, you were way too good looking and way too young to be up here all alone.

so cairo set out, being as bold as she’s ever been—especially after the whole miller thing, here she was standing at your door, cocky shades cover her eyes and a cigarette firm between her lips as she knocks.

she didn’t miss the red pick up that sat in your driveway, such a texas cliche, she thought.

hearing the wooden door creak as it opens, she fixes her posture, pushing her shoulders forward as she stood up straight.

“uh, hey?” you question, wiping the dirt from your hands on a faded blue rag.

the girl took a second, taking in the attire of your flared fitting jeans—they were worn out in a handy way, navy blue. she also took note to your light blue top that slightly came up, showing the edge of your, what seemed to be toned stomach.

pop’s. the shirt read in a bold fading yellow font with little things around it.

tempting but she had a mission.

“i’m cairo, i, uh, wanted to introduce myself—i live,” she pauses, pointing to the broad house placed a felid away.

“you live there? i didn’t think anyone lived there. creeps me out, the whole old victorian vibe, no offense. but, i’m y/n—i would shake your hand but uh.” you flash your hands that were scuffed with dirt.

“none taken, it’s actually quite comforting—i didn’t think anyone lived here, i mean it’s been empty for years.”

“yeah, uh, my mom recently passed and this is what she left behind…” you shrug, flapping you arms in lazy manner and let them fall back to your sides with a flat slap.

“mhm,” cairo takes a drag from the malboro.

“i’m sorry to hear that. are you fixing the place up?”

“trying to, thinking about turning it into a summer home, you know?” she didn’t miss the way your eyes flicker back and forth from the cigarette back to her face.

“you want?” she holds the stick towards you.

“if you don’t mind,” you reach up but fail to grasp the cigarette as the girl pushes her hand forward, placing it between your lips herself.

though you couldn’t tell because of the dark shades, she eyes your lips and watches closely as your purse them, taking a long drag before she retracts her fingers.

“thank you—do, uh, you wanna come in for a drink?”

“tomorrow, yeah? gotta a lot of work to do.”

“oh, work? you in high school?” she could see the slight grimace on your face at the thought of her being in high school.

“graduated. i’m in the process of apply for college. yale.”

“oh, hotshot, huh? i go to nyu, transfer from ucla—my second year.“

noted.

“but, good luck with everything, i’ll be here all summer so if you need any pointers let me know. i’m just a field away.”

also noted.

“mhm, i’ll definitely let you know.”

✬

exactly four days had passed since the encounter between you and cairo, and if she had to completely be truthful with herself, she was bored.

all she’d done was write and quickly delete the drafts she had made of you, walk to get coffee, and encounter small talk with a few distant friends from school whom seemed to be on big vacations with their closer friends.

she’d never say out loud, and she so reluctantly thought but she kind of missed winnie, in a strange way. who else to make her scandalous and yet superior at the same time?

after the whole miller thing, winnie had made it clear to stay far, far away from cairo, which of course the sweet girl didn’t take much offense to—she’d feel the same way if she were in her shoes, but she’d never so naively fall into a web like winnie had done.

with nothing better to do, and piles of shitty drafts, today would be the day she finally took up you on your offer. she needed new material for her paper anyways.

so here she was once again at your door, book-bag close on her back, dark shorts hugging her thighs with dark shades that cupped her face to match, and to top it off a white tank-top that read tennesse in fine blue print.

“finally showed up, i was afraid i scared you off.” the girl flinches, slightly, when you appear from the side of the house.

immediately she takes notices to the jean short-shorts that you occupied, along with the dirt stained, white baseball cap that took over your head of curls, brown cowgirl boots, and to top it off a plain black tank.

“i’ve been busy. told you i had a lot of work to do.”

“yeah, days worth, huh?” you tease, stepping to the house’s door, opening it and stepping aside for cairo.

“every time i see you, you got these shades on. you don’t like people looking you in your eyes or something?”

“i have my reasons.” she shrugs, letting a playful manner roll over her.

“you got magic eyes? anyone who stares into them falls in love?” you point at the girl again, this time causing her to bite back a smile, that you definitely don’t miss.

as she follows you, she can’t help but notice just how much your house resembles the aura of her’s—if not even more erie, the vacancy was very lit and yet a classic touch of old money overwhelmed the place. you had to be as loaded as she was with a house like this, and in tennesse—trust, she didn’t miss how much land you occupied.

“if you don’t mind me asking, what’d your mom do for a living?”

“ah, real estate and my dad is a lawyer—though, i don’t talk much with him.”

“huh, my parents are lawyers too and we don’t talk much either.”

you bite your lip, nodding in some form of understanding? agreement?

“make yourself at home,” you gesture to the velvet love seat.

cairo pauses for a minute, thinking, she had already made herself too at home—she was already losing sight of why she were here, she wasn’t here for your good looks and alluring aura—nor your flirty jokes.

you weren’t some seduction mission that she was going to trick herself into thinking you wanted her the way she did you, no. you weren’t going to be another mr.miller. she had learned from her mistakes.

you were her college essay and nothing more.

“i’m not a big drinker, so, pretty much all i have is some cherry wine and a little bit of gin.”

you watch at the sweet girl grimaces, “gin?”

“i know, my mom had poor taste, but i’ll take that as wine for our drink of the evening, i’ll be right back.”

why were you so tempting? how could one be so open yet she still knew nothing about you. she’d been here all of twenty minutes all she could get out of you was that your mom was a real estate agent and your dad is a lawy—

that’s it.

“here you go.” you hand her a half filled glass, fingers grazing over her skin before taking a seat across from her in the matching recliner.

“so, you’re dad is a lawyer? what’s his name? just curious if he works at the same firm as my parents.”

“y/d/n y/l/n. i doubt it, my dad owns his own firm and is very hard to work with.”

“hm, yeah never heard of him.” cairo made note to google your father later to lead her to connects with you,

and that’s exactly what she did.

after your drink, an excused rolled off her tongue to go home—she had more work to do, that you so cluelessly wished her good luck on.

one things for sure, you were right, you dad was hard man to work with. he seemed to be a lawyer who’d only worked on high profile cases in his career, how that was even possible? who knows.

he’d also been married three times, your mom being the second wife and you being his second kid.

his latest wife was way younger then him, as usual, she was maybe even your age. they had a son together, just two years old. it must be weird having an older sister in her late forties, while you’re in your earlier twenties, with a younger brother who is just two years old.

all while your dad is pushing sixty-five or so cairo read on the internet—she doesn’t exactly remember his age because she got bored and started surfing your name on google. to her surprise she’d found quite a lot on you.

a soccer star in high school, riding a scholarship for it too. not only that, but you’d been on the swim team in high school too.

you’d taken piano lessons as a kid, and noting the only social media you had was instagram, which to her trouble was private.

ugh, frustration was a minor feeling that creeped over cairo’s body. all she found was cliche background info. on you, no hard hitting stuff. no legal troubles, no mentions of some sort of addiction, no scandals.

there had to be more to you—there was, she could feel it. there was a story to you and she so ever needed it if she was going to wow yale. she had her miller story but something bigger assuredly awaited her blank google doc.

taking a slow, extended drag from her cigarette, the girl reluctantly closed the macbook. she now, once again, had a view of your unfolded window. though, you weren’t occupying it at the moment she waited in setback and anticipation as your truck had pulled into the driveway not too long ago. you’d entered the house with a woman she’d never seen before, maybe your half-sister.

if it were, it would be nice to put a face to the name considering google didn’t hold any pictures of your older sister.

but cairo couldn’t be more wrong and there would be no putting any name to any face because she would watch and smoke as you came collapsing into your room’s open window with your tongue down the random woman’s throat.

cairo couldn’t help but be taken over by a hot-blooded resentment. you were her project her, her puzzle to figure out, not some girl’s sloppy one night. and yet; through her distasteful thoughts, the girl couldn’t break her eyes from the scene that unfolded in front of her.

lewd.

that was one word to describe everything going on just in these moments. cairo’s hand wandering in her pants, letting enclosed moans falling from her lips as her eyes trained on just how…experienced (?) you’d seemed to be by the way you had been touching this woman.

her eyes were like binoculars on their own, closely she looked as your tongue ran across the woman’s lips—it was sloppy but so enamoring. your hands eagerly everywhere and nowhere at the same time on the woman’s body as you take off her clothes with the haste, the woman doing the same to you.

with you just in your lace underwear, cairo could see a tattoo on your shoulder that couldn’t make out but definitely would find a way to ask you about eventually—but right now, all she wanted to do was be the woman you were so infatuated with in this moment. the way you were shamelessly in the middle of your room, on your knees with your head hungrily between her legs, eating her out with ease. the eye contact you kept drove her even more insane.

she had underestimated you.

you were more untamed than she thought. bolder than you led onto to be.

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻potentially more parts to come.

[petertingle-yipyip]

LAST NIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 2,355

Summary: (requested) A drinking game with Monty and Co goes a bit too far. Intending to get back to your own tent, you stumble upon Bellamy and some shock revelations.

You hadn’t been on the Ground long yet it seemed like you never left the Ark. You had convinced Raven to let you stowaway with her in her rebuilt pod and now, you were among friends.

Mostly.

The only caveat - other than the alleged war with the Grounders - was Bellamy Blake.

Not quite friends, not quite enemies, but frenemies didn’t work either. It seemed like you two just couldn’t go a day without arguing or damn near punching each other in the mouth. There wasn’t really any reason to it either. He liked to instigate you and your temper had you engaging in the bickering everytime. It had been that way since you had first met, but you had to admit, it was fun for you too.

Once the flares went up and hope was in the air, liquor was being poured into cups across camp. You took a spot with Monty, Jasper, and Harper, and Jasper did not hesitate to fill your little tin cup as much as he could.

Your group started some nonsense drinking game, and you lost count of the drinks or rounds after about four. If anyone asked, you didn’t know who was winning or losing or even the premise of the game anymore. All you knew was that you had drunk way too much way too fast. When the entire forest was spinning around you, you used the bit of logical thought you had left and decided to make your way to your tent.

Harper offered to help you, but the slurring of her words told you that she was about as lucid as you were. You waved her off and reasoned that you could make it on your own since there were walls around camp now. If there was the potential of you wandering into the empty woods, then you would’ve taken her up on the offer, but you’d be fine.

As you were wandering back, you saw Octavia sneaking out. Curious, you tried to follow. You had gotten all of four steps before you tripped over your own feet and landed on your side. You laughed at yourself and rolled to your back, hands flat on your stomach. Maybe you’d just sleep there.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked, suddenly standing over you.

“Sleeping.” You answered.

“Oh, shit.” He sighed and you grinned. “Are you drunk?”

“Are you?” You tried to point a finger at him but ended up gesturing to nothing, which made you giggle.

His hand closed around your wrist and he hauled you to your feet, bringing on another round of laughter. He kept a grip on your arm and guided you through camp, despite your dragging feet and nonsense blabbering. He brought you to your tent but you refused to go in.

Surely he had you turned around. Or maybe that was the liquor buzzing in your head. Regardless. you stomped your foot and told him he was wrong. You pointed to a tent three over and said that one was yours. You could see he was trying to stay patient with you but he didn’t sign up to babysit you as a drunk.

“That’s not yours.” He complained and you squinted in suspicion. “That’s Atom’s.”

“I have an innate sense of di-rec-tion.” You pointed out, holding up a finger. “I know where I’m supposed to be.”

“Alright, Magellan.” He laughed slightly and offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

“Oh no you don’t.” You wagged your finger and hiccuped. “I know how that goes. You bring me to your tent, you play the hero, and you think I’ll sleep with you.”

“No, Y/N, I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He sighed.

“Well why not?” You stomped, now offended. “I’ll have you know I’m spectacular.”

“I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes slightly and grabbed your wrist. “But I’m not gonna sleep with you when you’re wasted like this, so come with me… Please.”

You gasped dramatically. “Bellamy Blake knows the word ‘please’? I have to-“ Hiccup. “-tell everyone.”

He sighed slightly before he leaned down and looped his other arm around the back of your leg. You made a face to yourself but before you could say anything, he threw you over his shoulders. You squealed and kicked your feet, banging your fists weakly against him.

“Put me down!” You laughed. “Damn you, Bellamy!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, but there was amusement in his voice. He carried you to a tent and dropped you on your feet.

You stumbled when your feet hit the floor and you let yourself drop to the floor. You giggled when you landed and looked up at him. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were raised, as if he expected you to say something. You huffed and crossed your arms the same way.

“You have, like, the biggest tent.” You looked around his space.

“What’s your point?” He sighed.

You threw your hands to the side which made you wobble slightly. Your eyes went big as you regained your balance before you laughed again. You looked back to Bellamy and he was already looking at you.

“You wanna know something?” You said loudly and crawled over to sit across from him.

“You’re gonna tell me anyway.” He crossed his arms again.

“I like your curly hair.” You said simply and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You always had it like slicked back on the Ark.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You thank people for compliments.”

“You’re not usually the compliment type.” He rolled his eyes. “Usually you’re the ‘kicking me in the shin’ type.”

“I could do that too.” You nodded. “But! I will not.”

“Lucky me.”

“Don’t you be mean to me again!” You thrust a finger forward and the sudden movement made you dizzy for a moment. “You’re always mean.”

“Coming from the girl who has a comment everytime I say anything to her?” He commented with a small laugh.

“Because you’re mean.” You glared. “But you’re pretty, so it’s a give and take I guess.” You shrugged.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “How much did you drink tonight?”

“I don’t like your tone, Blake!”

“And I don’t really care.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You changed the subject. You couldn’t quite remember how much you had.

“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.

“You’re mean to me.” You frowned and counted off your statements. “You don’t laugh at my jokes. You never let me do things. You used to make fun of me on the Ark and that’s why I kick your stupid shins. You always give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look! Like you’re trying to make me spontaneously combust.”

He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, I never said I didn’t like you.”

“But you’re mean.” You pouted.

He knelt down in front of you and you pursed your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna tell you this now, because you probably won’t remember it in the morning.” He said quietly, like it was a secret.

You leaned in, reaching for him to keep your steady. He caught your hands and you felt a sobering heat on your cheeks.

“I do like you, Y/N.” He said, wide eyes and a small smile. “It started as a crush when we were kids and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about you, looking for you in the crowds and trying to find an excuse to talk to you.”

“No way.” You whispered.

“I know.” His smile drew a little wider. “I never meant to be mean.”

“You’re not that mean.” You shrugged. “Let’s just say it was banter.”

“Banter.” He repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, alright.”

“Like in those books!” You announced. “Where they act like they hate each other but they’re actually madly in love.”

“Let’s go with that then.” He nodded, that small smile still playing on his lips. “Do you want me to walk you to your tent?”

“I don’t think I could make it back to my tent.” You confessed before a fit of giggles. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over as soon as I get up.”

“What happened to that innate sense of direction?” He asked as he helped you to your feet.

You shrugged. “It seems to have left me.”

“Or you never had it.”

“I still have a foot and you still have shins.” You warned, though the slurring of your words left them without any threat. “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I won’t kick the hell outta you. It’s called duality.”

He shook his head and helped you shuffle across the tent. Carefully, you two laid down and you felt the world shift as you did so. You made a noise, something like the joking sound of a ghost, and slammed a hand to the blankets. Bellamy’s hand closed over yours and you looked over at him. You broke into a grin and he returned the smile, not as wide as yours but an honest smile.

You shifted over and put your head against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm so it was draped over your chest and you two just laid there for a while. You continued to talk, about anything and everything. A butterfly you saw earlier that day. A conversation you had with Octavia. What you remembered from your earlier drinking game. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

And for the first time since you stepped foot on the ground, you truly felt safe.

When you woke up, you had no idea how late into the day it was. Bellamy was still beside you, so you doubted it was that late. Your head pounded as you pushed yourself to sit up and glanced around.

Your brows furrowed as you realized you weren’t in your own tent.

You slapped a hand over your mouth when you realized. You peeked over your shoulder again and it sunk in that you weren’t in your tent. You were in Bellamy’s.

You muttered to yourself in panic as you got up quickly. Your clothes were which both left you relieved and oddly disappointed. At least he didn’t try to hook up with you when you were drunk, but being drunk might’ve been the only way you’d be confident enough to sleep with him.

You snuck a glance outside the tent and saw there weren’t many people around. With a sigh of relief, you stepped out and immediately winced at the brightness of the sun.

“Hello Sleeping Beauty!” Jasper yelled from basically across camp and you cringed as more heads turned in your direction.

You hurried over and whacked him on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” He complained.

“For making people stare at me!” You hissed.

“What difference does it make?” He laughed. “Oh, I see. You don’t want people to see you coming out of Bellamy’s tent.”

“Shut up!”

“Why? You didn’t have any problems going into Bellamy’s tent last night.”

“Jasper, I swear I will kill you!”

He laughed and threw his arm over your shoulders. “But seriously, Y/N/N. Yesterday you were ready to tear his head off, now you’re tearing his clothes off.”

You elbowed him in the ribs.

“Lay off, Jasper.” Bellamy said, suddenly at your side.

You stiffened for a moment before you hid your face in your hands. You complained to yourself, ignoring whatever the boys were saying around you, and wished to disappear. You peeked between your fingers and saw Jasper leave. Hoping Bellamy left too, you dropped your hands.

You were wrong.

“You feel okay?” Bellamy asked.

“Mortified, actually.” You answered. “But I didn’t kill my liver last night, just a headache. I’m fine, thanks…”

He gestured for you to follow and hesitantly, you did.

“You were pretty drunk last night.” He began as you fell into stride with him.

“Well aware, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. “I do appreciate you not leaving me on the ground. Can’t say I would’ve done the same for you, but…” You shrugged.

Bellamy laughed slightly.

“What?” You asked quickly.

“You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?” He smiled at you.

You were so taken aback by it, the true delight and shine of his smile, that you tripped over your own feet. You landed on your back and groaned, more in embarrassment than anything. Bellamy knelt beside you with an amused smirk and you threw your arms over your face.

“Kill me now.” You groaned. “What did I say last night?”

You wished you could melt into the floor.

“That you’re madly in love with me.”

You could hear the smile he still wore. You sat up quickly and nearly collided with him.

“I did not say that.” You defended quickly. You may not remember much of the night before but you sure as hell would’ve remembered saying that.

“I know, I was shocked. And then you said you just had to have me. You were pretty persistent.”

You squinted in suspicion but he feigned innocence.

“It’s true.” He shrugged.

You kicked his arm since you couldn’t reach his shins, but he just laughed.

“It’s alright, though. Wanna know why?” He smirked.

“Go on and enlighten me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Cause I might be madly in love with you too.”

“Might?” You raised your eyebrows. “So you just let any girl you might be in love with sleep with you?”

“Hey now. You tell people we slept together, they might get the wrong idea.” He offered you a hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh, please.” You scoffed. “It’s gonna take more than a few drinks and those pretty curls to get me in bed with you.”

His hands were suddenly on your waist and he pulled you flush against him.

“Worked last night.” He shrugged.

“Beginner’s luck.” You rolled your eyes. “Bet it won’t happen again.”

“You’re on.”

“And when I win?”

“When I win, you’ll be in my bed. If you win, I’ll be in yours.”

[buckyalpine]

pleaseee idk if uve done this yet but can u do a fic where bucky is so afraid to be close with u. Then one faithful day an agent starts flirting with u and bucky loses it like he doesn’t understand this feeling, he gets all hot headed and all he knows is he wants u all for himself. AND SHIT GETS ALL HOT N STEAMYYYY. this was inspired by the song close by nick jonas

I. Love. This. 

18+ Jealously, possessiveness, desperate rough sex, sweet sex, horny Bucky got out of his cage. 

First of all, he really doesn't even understand the feeling of liking someone (he doesn't like most people anyway). He's been on dates. Plenty of them actually and they were all fine. Just fine. He never cared about seeing them again, figuring it was a result of how his brain was fried over and over again.

Then you came along. He doesn't understand a damn thing that's happening to him. When you smile, his heart beats a little faster. When you laugh or talk to him, his tongue stops working and all he can do is blush. When you say his name, he swears his body heat shoots up. 

This is the first time he's felt anything like this after decades.

He swore to himself it was nothing, sure you were adorable, sweet, beautiful but that was it. You were so kind to him, your voice was soothing like honey, It didn't matter that you were gorgeous, sexy, such a doll-

What was he doing.

The intensity of what he felt scared him. He didn't want to get close to you and it wasn't like he had feelings for you, something was just going on with him. It'd go away eventually. He told himself that every single day. He continued to keep his distance from you, figuring all these feelings would disappear soon.

However.

Tonight was something else. He wasn't feeling a light pitter patter in his heart. No. It was raging and thumping. His nostrils flared each time he looked over and he didn't even know why. He had 0 reason to feel like this but it was all happening on its own. 

"Fucks wrong with you" Sam snorted, watching Bucky's jaw clench, his eyes trained on the new agent that was caressing your arm while you both sat at the bar. His ears felt hot the second the agent leaned over to whisper in your ear, Bucky saw red. Whatever he was feeling was at another level, it wasn’t a cute little blush on his cheeks, his heart wasn’t lightly racing. Seeing another man try to touch what he already wanted drove him up the wall. 

You were his. 

What-

He shook his head at the rogue thought that kept intruding his mind, but only more followed.

He wanted you. 

All to himself.

He wanted every part of you, you’re pretty sweet face, soft voice, gorgeous body. 

All to himself. 

No other thoughts occupied his brain anymore, all logic out the door, he didn’t give a fuck who was trying to get near you, that was no concern of his. His body felt hot, he couldn’t just sit and watch anymore. He stalked over to the bar, disregarding the agent that was desperately flirting with you, he was going to take you and claim you. 

“James!” You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his hand grasp your wrist, tugging you off the stool, dragging you through the crowd and up to the hall of your rooms. “James, what are you-

Before you could finish speaking, he cut you off, caging you against the wall, his hands on either side of your head. 

"I want you" His chest rumbled against yours, pressing you further against wall. You squeaked, gasping when you felt his hands trail onto your waist, his nose nudging against your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Now”

"If you don't tell me to stop, I won't control myself" That was the best warning he was able to muster, using all of his will power not to rub his erection on you. You nearly felt light headed, the scent of his cologne evading your senses, his body heat warming your skin. He smelled so fucking good, his beard rubbing against your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. 

“James, I-

“Tell me to stop” He growled, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “s’getting harder for me to keep my hands to myself baby” 

“Don’t stop” You whimpered, moaning when he smashed his lips onto yours, walking you back to his room without breaking your lips apart. He kicked the door closed, nipping and kissing your skin, sucking dark bruises onto your neck until the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed. 

He panted, his forehead resting on yours, trying to collect himself, his hips rutting against your core causing your dress to ride up. You couldn't hold back your moans, feeling his length press and rub onto your clit, spreading your legs further and wrapping your thighs around his waist. 

“You gonna let me have you?” He mumbled against your lips, groaning when you tugged at his shirt. His mind was all over the place, usually when it came to you, he thought of softness and sweetness. After seeing you tonight, he needed you to be covered in him, filled with him, fucking smell like him. “Baby, m’telling you, if you don’t tell me to stop, m’gonna fucking ruin you” 

“Don’t hold back James”

That was all he had to hear. 

He stripped his clothes off, throwing them aside, giving his cock a few tugs before pulling you up to take your dress off. 

“I need you naked baby, wanna see all of you” He didn’t waste any time pulling the straps down, along with your tiny panties, throwing it aside before crawling on top of you. He trailed kisses down your body, licking and nipping your skin, smirking each time you whimpered, his arms spreading your legs apart. You felt your body heat up, wanting to cover yourself up but he wasn’t having any of that. He spread them further apart, loving the way you squirmed, biting your lip while he nearly drooled at the sight of your dripping cunt. 

“S’pretty baby” He looked mesmerized, licking his lips, “So wet” 

“Jamess” You whined, your thighs flinching under his hold, wanting to close your legs so badly but he held them apart firmly, tossing them over his shoulders. 

“All shy for me pretty baby?” He groaned at your perfect scent, his cock leaking onto the sheets. His fingers spread your pussy apart, getting the perfect view of your needy clit and fluttering entrance. He licked a thick stripe through your folds, lapping your wetness before getting to his absolutely favorite part. He started off with soft kisses onto your clit, his cock growing harder with your whiny moans needing more. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, suckling you making you cry out, grabbing his hair, back arching off the bed. He moaned around your clit, softly sucking while grinding his cock against the mattress, his hands digging into your thigs.

“You taste-” He sucked your clit again, his eyes rolling back “So sweet baby” He let his tongue move in circles, flicking and teasing it repeatedly, loving the way you gushed and soaked his beard. “Go a head, cum on my face doll” He pushed two fingers in you, pumping and curling them to stroke that spongy spot making you cry out. “Cum baby, fucking cum, soak my face doll”

“JAMESJAMESFUCK-” Your thighs closed on his head, tugging his hair making him groan, his balls throbbing as he felt your juices soak his face further. He kissed your sensitive clit before crawling on top of you, stroking his cock, rubbing it through your wetness.  

“Can’t wait any longer, need to be inside you” You brought your legs to wrap around you, your arms gripping onto his tight biceps, waiting for him to stretch you. You moaned, feeling his cock nudge against your entrance, his thick swollen tip making your stomach flutter. 

“Fuck James” You cried out as he started to fill you inch by inch, his hands fisting the sheets already, your pussy clenching around him. “Fuck me baby” Your nails dug into his shoulders making him groan. He didn’t bother with warming you up first, bringing his knees up slightly, and fucking you hard and fast without holding back, his balls slapping your ass with each stroke. 

“I want you” He grunted, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go with each thrust, desperate to be all the way inside you. “Fuck, I want you” He let his body fall onto you, legs nearly slipping against the sheets, his hips rocking and grinding against you while he gripped onto your wrist with one hand, the other grabbing onto the head board. 

“You have me baby” You cupped his cheeks, stroking his face while he groaned, fucking you harder. 

“Not enough, fuck, I want you all to myself, wanna be the only one to have you like this, only one to touch you, fuck you, make love to you” He wrapped his arms around your body, panting against your neck, his cock starting to twitch. 

“You already do Bucky” You kissed his lips, rubbing yours hands all over his body, his skin hot, “M’all yours baby, just yours” 

“Yeah?” He grunted, bringing his knee up to fuck you even deeper making you scream, his cock swelling, balls growing heavy. “You’re mine?”

“FUCK JAMES I-” You couldn’t formulate words, your legs shaking as he slammed into you, “YOUR COCK-S’DEEP” You claws onto his back, your juices squirting and dripping onto the sheets, your pussy clenching around him. 

“C’mon baby, I want your cum” He moaned, fucking you harder, desperate for you to make a mess all over his bed, “Give me your cum angel, cream on my dick, it’s your cock baby, go on, make a mess on it baby, make a mess on this cock” 

“OH GOD FUCKKK” You sobbed, feeling your orgasm rip through you, “pleasepleaseplease- “ You let out a silent scream and he continued to fuck you through your high. 

“That’s it sweetheart, look baby” Bucky cupping the back of your head, making you look at where you were both connected, his cock nearly white covered in your slick. “My cock’s all covered in your cum baby, would stroke myself with your cum if I could” 

You gave him a dazed look, a smirk flashing across his face, pulling out of you for a moment, moving up so his cock was hovering above your face. 

“See what a mess you made on me baby?” He wrapped around his soaked cock, giving himself long slow strokes, moaning at how wet and silky his length felt covered in your slick. “Feel’s so fuckin’ good baby, I’d be touching myself way more if it always felt this good” He threw his head back, letting his metal hand come down to cup his balls, moaning. You sat up slightly, pulling his cock into your mouth, catching him off guard.

“OH Shittt- He nearly came on the spot, feeling your plush lips wrap around the head of his cock, your tongue working in circles. “My hungry greedy baby” He smirked, letting you lick the tip of his cock clean before pulling you off” I wanna cum inside you baby, s’too sensitive right now” 

He pushed his cock back inside you, moaning at the way you wrapped your body around him, kissing his skin, cupping his face, your eyes glassy and hazy. 

“Can feel your cock throbbing baby” You cooed, kissing his nose, licking up his neck, “Feel’s so good Bucky, cum in me baby, let me feel you” His pace grew sloppy, clinging onto you, he’s starved his orgasm for as long as he could. 

“Oh fuck, you’re all mine, you belong to me baby, not gonna ever let you go” He grew more desperate, his cock throbbing, your tight heat fluttering and clenching around him. “I’m gonna cum” 

“Cum for me Bucky”

“M’gonna cum so fucking hard for you angel-I-SHIT-I-M FUCK M’ cumminggg” He moaned into your neck, giving you three hard thrusts, spilling his load into you. “This is all for you baby, all just for you” He couldn't help himself, nearly rolling around the bed with you, rutting his softening cock into your soaked cunt, making sure he gave you every single drop. “S’all for you sweet girl” 

You both laid down, wrapped in the sheets, sweating and panting, bodies still convulsing with post orgasmic shocks. You gasped, feeling his arm wrap around your waist pulling you over to cuddle, his fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. 

“Y/n?” You blinked, looking up to meet his soft blue eyes looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek. “I meant what I said baby, I want you all to myself”

“You-you like me?” You whispered, your heart soaring. You’d liked Bucky for ages but you were certain he wouldn’t be interested. You were prepared for him to kick you out at the end of the night, indulging in a one night fantasy if that was all you could get. But now..

“You’re such a darling baby, how can you expect me not to fall for you” He brought you closer to kiss your lips, biting his lip nervously, wondering if you wanted that with him, “If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay I-

You cut him off, kissing his deeply, only pulling away for air. 

“You promise?”

“I promise baby doll” He nodded, cradling your body to his, the soft pitter patter returning, and cheeks blushing. “M’all yours doll” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @carrotfantasimp

[powchakko]

THE WORDS WE DIDN'T MEAN ‧₊˚

#SYNOPSIS. . . you get into an argument with him

#WORD COUNT. . . 883 words

#NOTES. . . chuuya x gn!reader, angst to fluff, established relationship, not proofread T^T

arguments with chuuya are the worst.

you find yourself exhausted after nearly thirty minutes of back and forth, his words jabbing at your weak spots and your arguments being countered with much more logical reasoning. you were never good at arguments to begin with. it’s a miracle how you still desperately hang onto your ideals despite ending up fighting with your lover.

you wish to give up right then and there. the longer you fought, the harsher his words became. you know continuing would only hurt both of you even further.

alright. enough’s enough.

“chuuya,” you interrupt in between his words, reaching out to him in an attempt to calm him down. “let’s talk about this tomorr–”

he’s too agitated to hear you, however. “how much more stupid can this be?! i keep explaining to you over and over again, and yet you never seem to get it! honestly, y/n–” he turns angrily to face you, and abruptly falls silent upon noticing the silent tears rolling down your cheeks. 

you don’t even get to process the feeling of them burning against your skin.

you shift your gaze away from him, not allowing him to see this pathetic state you’re in. “i–i’m sorry… i didn’t…” you stammer, your throat tightening as a sob threatens to escape.

the realization hit him. he had gone too far this time.

“no, no…” a gasp slips through his mouth. before any of you realize, he takes a step towards you and envelops your body in his arms, your head buried under his neck. “no, sweetheart, you don’t have anything to apologize for, i’m so sorry.” 

he hates to see you cry. much more so when he’s the reason for your tears. guilt gnaws at his heart when he feels your fingers clutching onto his back, your shoulders shaking from the force of your sobs. he holds you tighter as he fights his own urge to cry at your sorrow.

“forgive me, y/n,” he mutters into your ear instead. “i went too far. i shouldn’t have said those things.”

he pulls away slightly, a gloved hand lifting to cup your cheek and tilt your face towards his. he feels his heart breaking at the sight of your tear-stained face, how empty your eyes look, and the fact that you still refuse to look at him. 

did he scare you?

you know he’d never hurt you (right?). he always treated you with such gentleness; you were the key to his heart, after all. you could break it and smash it into pieces, betray him and hurt him as many times as you want, even kill him if you desire. he’ll still love you in the end.

and yet the thing that made him love you most was the truth that you chose to pick up the remnants of what he once called a heart and taught him how to love once more. you cradled his face in the depths of the night and whispered sweet nothings into his ears. you gave him a reason to smile and laugh and be happy again. you never feared his power, and even called his corruption beautiful once.

he does not deserve you or your kindness.

how could he allow himself to be the one who hurt you when all you’ve done is nothing but heal him?

chuuya curses at himself. you feel him press a lingering kiss on your forehead and whisper against your skin, “i vow to never be the reason for your tears ever again. and if i ever do…” he swallows. “...leave me.”

you stiffen at the words, not missing the way his voice breaks at the end of the sentence. for the first time in what felt like hours, your eyes finally meet his ocean ones, and chuuya flinches when he sees the anger flaring in them.

“i will never, and i mean never,” you hiss, your voice steady. “leave you. don’t ever forget that, chuuya.”

he opens his mouth to protest – that you deserve a much better love than his, that he will never be able to repay the deeds you’ve done for him – when the feeling of your lips against his scatters the words he prepared. the kiss is fleeting, much shorter than chuuya prefers, yet it perfectly communicates your thoughts. 

chuuya can feel the death grip on his heart loosen once he sees you smile at him once more. your eyes are still red, and your breath still hitches every few words you utter, yet you couldn’t have looked more beautiful in his eyes.

“i love you.” he blurts before his mind finds a better response. he fears you will soon forget if he doesn’t reaffirm. he needs you to know.

you look at him, your lips breaking into a small, genuine smile. “i know,” you nod, and he melts at the words.

what’s more, he realises you could still be his for the night, perhaps even longer, if you would let him have you.

“c’mon, it’s late.” you intertwine your fingers in between his as you start to lead him towards your shared bedroom. “we can talk things out tomorrow.”

as he slowly follows you from behind, chuuya can’t help but think how lucky he is to be loved by someone like you.

©POWCHAKKO 2024, do not copy, modify, or repost my works onto other platforms.

[theotherbuckley]

Hi hello I am here to request many sentences

🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵

A whole heap of words just for you 😘

🦵 - Buck and Tommy Meet at Physio

Buck keeps eagerly scrolling through wikipedia articles about sharks before his phone dings again beside him. 

Tommy: Did you get the hot bag?

Oh yeah, that’s what he was supposed to do. 

A little shyly, he types back.

Buck: Uhhhhh

Tommy: …

Buck: On it 🫡🫡

Tommy:  Dork

Buck grins to himself, lifting out of his seat and hobbling over to the kitchen to microwave the wheat bag. Walking was slowly getting easier, he could make his way around most of the apartment unaided now, though he was still constantly side-eyeing the stairs. Thankfully, after Maddie had a strongly-worded conversation with the building manager, the elevator was back up and running, meaning Buck could leave his apartment without fear, if he needed to. Sadly that means Tommy wouldn't need to carry him up a flight of stairs either, but that wasn’t something he was thinking too hard about.

The 118 had all collectively come over a few weeks back, when Buck had finally relented and let them move his bed down the stairs. His back was very grateful, but he couldn’t help the flare of jealousy that swirled around in his gut seeing them all so easily manoeuvre his bed down the stairs without even breaking a sweat. 

It isn’t fair that Buck can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without wishing the ground would open below him and swallow his leg whole, taking away the pain with it. He should be happy that he can walk at all now, it’s just he thought it would have happened sooner.

He’s already far behind the schedule he set himself to recover. 

The microwave beeps before he has time to scold himself for that. 

He gets himself settled back on the couch, stretching out his leg in front of him and sighing in relief when the warmth of his hot bag seeps into his leg, soothing away the uncomfortable ache that constantly clings to his calf. He takes out his phone, ready to send a photo to Tommy as evidence that he is, in fact, taking care of himself. But as he looks through his camera, the jagged scars of his leg seem to scream through the phone. The lines are a harsh red, a stark contrast to the pale, sun-starved skin of his leg. 

A cold wave of grief sweeps through him, his body feeling numb and raw despite the heat bag resting on top. He sighs, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. He hates this. Hates the way his body doesn’t feel like his own anymore. Hates that he can’t outrun what happened to him because there will always be evidence of his broken leg tattooed across the limb. It’s ugly and broken, a lot like how he feels, which he supposes is fitting. 

Most days, he is too focused on his recovery to care about the state of his skin. On days when he feels particularly vulnerable, he wears his sweats, letting the material rub across the tender skin, unpleasant but bearable. Today it just hits him hard, for no reason that he can articulate. He just doesn’t want Tommy to see how broken he really is, even if logically he knows it wouldn’t make a difference.

As if summoned by his thought, his phone vibrates in his palm, Tommy’s name flashing briefly.

Tommy: Hot bag acquired?

Buck smiles softly, the message alone helping to dispel some of the negative thoughts swirling around in his head. He takes the bag off of his leg for a moment, taking a selfie with a big thumbs up and the hot pack clearly in view.

Buck: [image attached]

Got it :)

[shizuturnspages]

Hii Love your yan works!! Wondering if I could request a scenario where darling(gender neutral would be great<3) , utterly frustrated, just snaps. Angry, maybe a bit violent (telling the yan/char off too) and their reactions to this. the sumeru boys if you could :) (sethos included ofc) tysm!!

(alsoo can I be 🐲anon :D, if u don't have like an anon system it's finee)

Ofccc

I tried my best to portray a frustrated darling. Here it is:

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is never caught off guard—until now. He’s always so sure of his logic, so convinced that his calm reasoning will sway you. And yet, here you are, snapping like a live wire, anger blazing as you tell him off for treating you like some part of a research project he’s working on.

“I am not one of your little experiments, Alhaitham!” You slam your hands on the desk, making every paper, every precious note he keeps meticulously organized, scatter.

Alhaitham’s reaction? He raises an eyebrow, that usual collected look faltering for a second. “Your outburst is…unexpected,” he says slowly, like he’s still processing this glorious rage you’re unleashing on him.

But you’re not backing down. “You think you know everything about me, huh? As if watching me like some science project gives you the right to dictate my life! Well, newsflash, it doesn’t.”

He just blinks at you, taking in the harsh words. And—damn it—he seems intrigued. Almost like he’s analysing you, savouring every bit of this rare outburst. When you’re done, breathing heavily, he gives a soft chuckle, leaning closer. “If I didn’t care about you,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with something dark, “I wouldn’t bother trying to understand you so thoroughly. But, please, go on… I’m listening.”

The soft, gentle way Tighnari usually approaches everything takes a sharp turn when you finally reach your boiling point. He’s been hovering again, watching you like a hawk, questioning your every move, worrying over every detail. You’ve had enough.

Tighnari

“Stop! Just stop!” you shout, pacing in frustration as you wave your arms in the air. “I don’t need your constant surveillance, Tighnari! I’m not some fragile thing you have to keep an eye on every second!”

Tighnari blinks in surprise, his typically calm expression faltering. He doesn’t know how to respond at first, clearly caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “I… I was only trying to help. You’ve been acting strange lately, and I—”

“Strange?” you cut him off, glaring at him. “I’m not strange, I’m frustrated! You make me feel like I’m one step away from breaking at any given moment, always hovering, always watching. I’m fine, Tighnari! Stop treating me like I’m about to fall apart!”

His ears twitch as he processes your words, the warmth in his eyes turning into something more intense. His lips part, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to apologize, but then his eyes narrow, a defensive streak flaring up.

“Maybe I’m just trying to care for you,” he says quietly, but there’s an edge to his tone now. “If you’d let me, I could help you. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I don’t need your help, Tighnari!” you snap, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I’m not some project for you to fix! You don’t get to decide what’s best for me!”

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temple with one hand. “I get it, okay? But you’re not leaving me any choice, are you?” His voice softens, but there's a steely undertone now. "I won't stop looking out for you, whether you want it or not."

Your frustration with Kaveh’s relentless, overbearing affection reaches a boiling point. He’s been fussing, hovering over you like you’re some delicate object that needs his constant attention.

Kaveh

“Back off, Kaveh! I’m not some fragile doll you can keep wrapped around your finger!" You yell at the top of your lungs as you shove him away from you.

Kaveh stumbles back, taken aback by the force in your words, his usual confident swagger faltering for the first time. His eyes widen in shock, and his lips part as if he's about to apologize—but then the sheer intensity of your anger seems to hit him like a wave.

"Wait, what?" he stammers, trying to make sense of your outburst. He looks around, as if hoping the room itself will offer some kind of explanation. "I—I thought I was doing the right thing! I just... I care about you! I didn’t think you’d—"

“Care about me?!” you interrupt, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think coddling me, making every decision for me, is love? You’re just trying to keep me on a leash, Kaveh. That’s not love, that’s control!”

Kaveh’s expression falters, hurt flashing across his features before it’s replaced with frustration. He takes a step forward, voice trembling slightly but with a hint of defensiveness. “I never meant it like that! I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I never—”

“You never thought!” you retort, your chest heaving as you struggle to contain the rage. “You never thought about what I want, what I need! You just assumed you know best. You’re suffocating me!”

Kaveh’s face softens, the hurt in his eyes giving way to guilt, but there’s still a spark of stubbornness left. “I... I never wanted to hurt you,” he mutters quietly, looking down, his shoulders slumping. “I just wanted to protect you from... from the world.”

But you’re done being patient. “I don’t need your protection, Kaveh! I need my freedom. And if you can’t give that to me, then maybe we shouldn’t be doing this at all.”

He looks crushed, but there’s something behind his eyes now—regret, yes, but also a deeper, more possessive undercurrent. He takes a slow breath, standing straighter, as if bracing himself. “If it comes to that… I guess I’ll just have to remind you how much you need me,” he says quietly, almost dangerously. His words hang in the air, a silent threat, but for a brief second, you see the raw emotion behind them.

For all Cyno’s jokes and smirks, you finally reach your limit. He’s always around, hovering like a shadow with that damn teasing grin. And for once, you just want him gone.

Cyno

“I’m done, Cyno!” you yell, voice thick with anger. “Just stop with the jokes, stop with the games, and stop watching me like a hawk! I don’t need a babysitter.”

He freezes mid-step, his grin gone, replaced by a serious expression that’s almost unreadable. “It was never about babysitting,” he says quietly, his eyes narrowing. But you’re past the point of caring. “No, it’s about you wanting control, Cyno. You need to know everything—where I am, who I’m with—you don’t own me!”

The tension in the room rises, and he watches you carefully. “Control isn’t the issue,” he finally says, his voice softer than you expect. “But I won’t apologize for making sure you’re safe.” He steps closer, his hand lingering by your shoulder, almost hesitant. “But,” he adds, leaning down to meet your gaze, “if you really feel that strongly about it, make me leave.”

With Sethos, it’s not just overprotection; it’s the possessive need to have you near, almost like a shadow clinging too close. He’s silent, watching, trailing after you with that unnerving devotion that makes it impossible to breathe sometimes. And today, you’ve had enough.

Sethos

“Will you just… back off for one damn minute, Sethos!” you shout, your patience snapping like a twig.

Sethos, unbothered, simply tilts his head, that cryptic, soft smile unfaltering. “Why should I? If I give you space, you’ll just wander off where I can’t protect you.”

You can feel yourself shake with frustration. “I don’t need protecting! And I sure as hell don’t need you lurking around every corner!” You take a step forward, jabbing a finger at him, your voice dangerously low. “Do you even get how suffocating you are?”

His smile wavers—just a flicker—and his eyes darken. He steps closer, a shadow casting over his expression. “Suffocating?” he whispers. “No, love… I’m keeping you safe. But if it’s suffocating you… well, that’s just unfortunate.” His fingers brush your cheek, cold, and possessive. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

❛ your fascination with me will be your death. ❜ - Jacelaena!

well i couldn't not do it

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x helaena tagaryen

rating: E

words: 3k

Helaena watched as he circled the long table, abandoning his chair at the opposite end. Though he did not possess the height of her younger brother, nor his uncle and grandsire, Jace still seemed to take up space with his mere presence. There was a surprising amount of strength in the determined set of his jaw, in the taut way he held his shoulders as he approached her, in the large hands curled into fists at his side.

She wondered, not for the first time, the sort of king he’d be if her father got his way, if her mother and grandsire’s plans for the future dissipated like smoke through a thurible. How would those curls look beneath the gold of Viserys’ crown? Would he buckle beneath the weight of all that iron that made up Aegon I’s crown? Which would he choose? Which would suit him? Would Baela wear the other?

‘They will be quite the pair,’ she could not help but acknowledge, though a flash of jealousy as hot as Dreamfyre’s flame flared through her at the notion. ‘Not like Aegon and I, bound only by duty and mother’s fears.’

Those large hands of his were no longer fists as he rested them on the arms of the chair she sat in, and his jaw slackened as he loomed over her, his nose nearly brushing against hers, their matching lavender eyes meeting in a near identical hooded gaze. 

“Your fascination with me will be your death,” she said, arching up toward him, his shaky exhale ghosting over her face. She had no idea why she said it, though surely her mother would call for his head if they were caught, a replacement for the eye her desperate bid for justice could not procure. ‘Kiss me,’ she thought, despite logic and reason. ‘Kiss me so that I might remember, so that I might have this to hold on to when the cold night comes.’

His smile was not cruel like Aemond’s might have been, was not lopsided and weighed down by wine as Aegon’s was; it was altogether different, like the sun parting the smoke and fog that hung so heavily over Dragonstone. The dinner that night had been nothing short of a disaster and now Jace boasted a bruise that was already turning black around the edges, the ridge of his cheekbone slightly swollen where Aemond’s shove had sent him to the floor. She did not stop herself from reaching forward, from trailing her fingertips over the discoloration that marred his skin. When he did not flinch, Helaena pressed harder - just the barest pressure against his face to see if he would wince. 

He smiled once more and nuzzled against her hand. “Then I will gladly meet my maker.” That was all the warning she got before he pressed his mouth to hers, capturing whatever response sat on the tip of her tongue. He did not kiss like he danced. Where that moment had been light, full of a distracting sort of buoyancy, this was heavier, firmer, more intense. A hand came to cradle the back of her head as he leaned into her, bowing her back as her own hands came to rest against his chest, fingers curling into his doublet. She wanted to tear it from his body, to rake hands like claws over the skin of his chest, to leave marks that would remind him after he had gone that she had been there. 

“Why?” The word was more an exhale than a true question, and he did not answer immediately, instead gathering her into his arms and pulling her to her feet. She felt pliant beneath his touch, a feeling almost wholly unfamiliar to her as he set her on the edge of the great table that had been the centerpiece to the evening’s earlier charade. Nudging her knees apart to step between them, Jace raised his hands to cup her jaw, sliding his tongue along her lower lip.

“Why what?” he asked, his voice faraway though he stood so close, the lengths of their chests and torsos pressed tightly together; one could not draw breath without the other feeling it, a push and pull of their lungs with each inhale and exhale. 

Helaena broke away to pepper kisses to his jaw and neck, her teeth finding purchase in nipping little bites that made him shudder. “Why are you doing this?” She knew why she was doing this, but why would he take such a risk? She knew how men were, how he would likely be able to escape back to Dragonstone relatively unscathed by accusations of adultery, facing only the impotent rage of her mother and the apathy of her father. Though she could hardly imagine that he would simply abandon her to whatever fate awaited them should they be caught. No, Jace did not strike her as the type; her fate would be his own.

“I…I look at you and I can't breathe.” He kissed her temple, his hands grasping at her hips, his fingertips digging in in a way she hadn't realized she craved. “Your laughter is so rare and it is the only sound I want to hear.” He kissed the shell of her ear, warm breath fluttering at her hair. “When I look at you all I can think of is each and every way I would make you mine.” He kissed her on the mouth and again her fingers ached to claw beneath his skin to hold him even closer to her. She licked into his mouth and blinked back the burn at the edges of her eyes. “Do you remember when the scorpion stung me and my attempt at bravery failed and I could not help but cry out?” 

Helaena nodded, smiling against his lips.

Reaching forward, she brought his hand closer to her face, running a finger over the small red scar where the maester had excised the wound to release the poison. She pressed a kiss to the mark, and more to his knuckles before wrapping her lips around his thumb, her tongue curling around the tip. This time Jace did not cry out. Instead, he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against hers. His free hand tangled in her hair, suddenly jerking her back with more force than she expected. But he swallowed her sound of surprise, his teeth catching on her lower lip. Helaena moaned, yanking at the front of his doublet, no care for the way the little buttons that held it closed scattered around her on the table. His skin was so warm beneath the thin linen of his undershirt and she shoved her hands beneath it, finally feeling the hard muscle that lay over his stomach. 

Jace made a low noise somewhere low in his throat and the sound reminded her of ones she had heard in the depths of the dragon pit, the timbre of it settling low in her belly as he yanked at her skirts. 

“Helaena.”

It was so simple. Just her name, a name she had not given much thought to except for that it was hers. But on his tongue it sounded like a name revered and she wanted more. She licked a stripe up his neck, savoring the taste of him and the feeling of gooseflesh rising beneath her tongue before sinking her teeth in like the dragon she sometimes was in her dreams. Trembling fingers found her bare of her small clothes and his whine was a choked thing.

“Where are -.”

She cut him off with a shrug. “They're cumbersome and I do not like the feeling.”

Jace growled at that and sucked a biting bruise against her shoulder. But then he was standing, backing away before extending a hand and pulling her to her feet. Her brows drew together, confusion settling uncomfortably over her skin, the feeling of rejection like pins and needles over all her sensitive parts. He chased it away before it could truly take form with another kiss, turning and backing her into the shadows. Helaena grinned as her back hit the wall beside the window, just out of view from the door, and it was her turn to tangle her fingers in his dark curls, like ink against her pale skin. 

He dragged his nose over the curve of her cheek, goosebumps left in its wake, and she sighed at the feeling. So few things came with a sense of rightness for her, and Helaena basked in the utter calm that descended upon her with his hands grasping tightly at her waist. As children, Jace had always been her favorite companion, the small joy they found in one another’s company enough to keep the rising tension and fear of their mothers at bay. She found this joy once more here, now, standing in the dark with him, and her heart ached with it. 

“I would do this differently,” he breathed against her ear, his tongue tracing the outline and sending butterflies blooming in her belly. “I would lay you out over my bed at Dragonstone and take my time with you.” His hand fisted in her skirts, dragging them once again over her legs. “I would keep you there for days and feast on you.” For a moment, she wondered just how many feasts her nephew had partaken in, but his lips against her neck chased the thought away. “I would keep you spoiled in the tribute you deserve. I would kiss you until you were breathless. I would take you until you were ruined for anyone else.” His hand found the juncture of her thighs and Helaena dropped her head against the stone wall, the radiating ache of the impact grounding her in the moment when she feared she would simply break apart and float away. 

She reached up and traced a finger over his top lip, enamored by the way he held his mouth just so. His tongue flicked out, licking the salt from her skin as he gently drew her finger between his teeth. His own hand nudged inside of her, his hips forward to press against her belly. She groaned at the feeling, grinding herself down against him as he watched, his lavender eyes darting over her shadowed face as he memorized each flutter and sigh and fleeting expression.

Tucking her fingers under his waistband, Helaena pulled him forward, relishing his huff of surprise as he crashed against her chest.

"Kiss me," she demanded. It was a whisper in the dark, a soft command, and she gasped when a second finger joined his first. His mouth found hers and she wasted no time tugging open the ties at the front of his pants, reaching in and taking him in hand. He throbbed in her palm, long and just thick enough.

He moaned her name as she stroked him, his forehead coming to rest against hers once more. She bucked against his hand, his slender fingers making her dizzy with a new sort of need. That first peak snuck up on her, quick and sharp and snapping through her very bones with a soft pant of his name. 

He kissed her through it, biting down on her bottom lip as she swiped her thumb over the bead of precum that leaked from his tip. “I want you for longer than this night, Helaena.”

The words came sharply into focus as the aftershocks of her pleasure still danced over her skin. She pushed the hair from his face with both hands. “Yes,” she answered, and suddenly it seemed so clear that she would go with him anywhere, that if she was to look over her shoulder, she would find him following her, a shadow at her back, and she had never felt safer, even as the danger of their current position lingered over them. “I want you for longer than this night.”

It was then that he hitched her leg over his hip and pushed inside, so slowly she thought she might scream as she stretched around him. She cried out at the feeling of fullness and Jace clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

“I want nothing more than to hear you, but you must be quiet.” His voice was ragged in the shadows, pulling her apart at the seams.

Helaena leaned forward, her lips at his ear. “I cannot help it,” she whispered, her fingers digging in sharply where she held his shoulders. “Jace, I -.”

He kissed her, swallowing down the words as he began to thrust in earnest, slow, long drags of his length within her, and that heat in her belly began to build once more, flame licking at her limbs and through her veins. She dropped her hands to curl against his stomach, the muscles jumping beneath her fingers, and he moaned against her neck, burying his face in her hair to stifle the sound.

“Hel.” It was just a soft breath against her throat before he bit down, his tongue soothing what she hoped would be a mark come morning. Let him brand her, let him claim her, and maybe, just maybe, let him take her away from here. They could figure out the rest, she knew that, her thoughts and plans typically neatly organized and easy to execute. They needn’t go to Dragonstone, needn’t set themselves down on either side of the war that it seemed only she could see coming; they could take her children and flee to Pentos or Lys or even Myr on the backs of their dragons and be free of the dreams that haunted her, dreams of centipedes and flame and eyeless boys taking to the skies. Let her be free of everything but him.

But Jace would never leave his mother, not when it was all so precarious, not when she hid to lick her wounds at Dragonstone, her family growing ever happier as Helaena’s own grew brittle under the strain. Could she truly leave her brother’s behind? Her mother? Even as Alicent’s hands grew talons to keep her children near, tearing at their skin and clothes, Helaena could not imagine leaving her.

Jace clutched tightly at her thigh and she raked her nails over the ridges of his abdomen, meeting his mouth with her own and falling back into the moment. His other hand cradled her jaw and she leaned into the touch, gripping roughly at his curls. He whimpered at that, a sound she had not expected, and now she wanted to bottle it and keep it near forever. Stepping back, he shuddered and Helaena blinked up at him, her mouth parting to question him through the haze of her impending release.

“I can’t - We must be careful.”

She took his meaning and discarded it, pulling his head back by his hair and baring his throat to her. Licking up the column of his throat, she whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

His mouth parted and he panted her name. “Please, I - Helaena.” Hips stuttering, she felt him lose his pace, his movements becoming erratic as he found his end within her. She felt that too, hot and wet in a way that would normally bother her, but here and now she could not be upset by it, too content to hold him close as he trembled in her arms, his forehead coming to rest where her neck and shoulder met. She tumbled over after him, her body falling apart over those last deep thrusts. His breath came in damp puffs of air and slowly, so slowly, he came back to himself, a shy boy once more. “I don’t know what to say.”

She panted and lowered her leg back to the ground, needing to stand on her own two feet. Sliding a hand over his mouth, her grin grew mischievous. “Then say nothing.” Their matching eyes met and she memorized the deeper fleck of violet that sparked in them like shooting stars. She memorized the curve of his nose and the bow of his pouting mouth. Dropping her hand to his chest, she pushed him back a step. “I will find you on the morrow, Jacaerys.”

He shook his head, grazing his nose against hers, his hands grasping possessively at her hips. “You heard my mother, we leave tonight for Dragonstone.”

Helaena ignored the crack that began to splinter in her chest. “Then I will find you in your dreams.”

—

It was still dark when stone ground against stone and Helaena was roused from sleep. Jace bled through the shadows of her room, his face coming into perfect clarity before her blurry eyes. He was speaking but she did not follow, did not catch the words that spilled forth from him.

“Helaena!”

She blinked at the bark of her name, drawing back. “What?”

“Come with me. Come with me to Dragonstone and find happiness - find it with me.” His mouth opened and closed as he searched for the words he wanted to say to convince her. Her stomach felt filled with moths, fluttering and flying and trying to choke her. She could not leave, could she? Run off like some thief in the night, leave her husband and her children.

“My children…” She say their faces then, so small and trusting, eyes the same shade as Aegon’s. 

He smiled then and her heart ached for a new reason as she reached forward to trace the line of his cheek. “Wake them. Bring them. I would never think to part you from them.”

She drew her hand back, something black and oily replacing the moths in her belly as years and years of warnings reverberated through her skull, her mother’s voice like smoke between her ears. “Rhaenyra…”

“My mother will not harm you. She will not harm your children. Helaena, please. Trust me. Let me protect you.” He kissed her too hard then, their teeth clacking together before he eased off and peppered his lips against her cheeks, her eyes. “Let me love you, let us have more than this night.”

‘If you don’t go now, you will never go, and you will regret it always,’ a voice in the back of her mind said softly, timidly, as if used to being snuffed out in the harsh light of logic and danger. A long moment passed, visions of each imagined future playing behind her eyes as she struggled to keep up, to make sense of any of it. Through it all though, she saw Jacaerys, saw his eyes like twilight staring back at her. Nodding, she sat up. “Yes. Yes, alright.”

Jace pushed himself from the bed, his smile so beautiful as to break her heart. He held out a hand and for a long moment Helaena could only look at it. 

Finally, she rose, taking the hand offered to her.

[tokyo-debunker-idk]

Crushed | 03

Summary: He's tried to convince Leo that you're a cool person, to which the former just scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

Pairing: Haizono Sho x Reader x Kurosagi Leo

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, slowish burn, no real plot, Leo bullying

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

"Besides, what are a few nobodies compared to the shit you've been dealing with anyway? You can handle it."

You finally realize what's been bothering you since you confronted Leo at the Vagastrom dorms (outside of the usual annoyance of Leo's general existence).

His response, despite his condescending tone… had been worded suspiciously like a compliment. Which, since it's Leo, means it probably wasn't.

"YoU cAn hAndLe iT," you mutter quietly to yourself, imitating the TikTok asshole's haughty tone. "Fuck off."

It makes you even more annoyed about the stupid sympathy that flared up when Leo mentioned death threats. He doesn't deserve your consideration, but your empathetic ass doesn't care about logical little details like that.

Sure, you've seen horrible comments and exchanges online in fan wars, but it's always been as a spectator. Receiving such disturbing messages personally, ranging from unhinged fans who call you ugly (whatever) to those that wish vile things upon you (less whatever) to others that send inappropriate pictures you wish you could unsee (your eyes, your poor non-quite-virgin eyes)… it's affected you much more than you would have expected.

For you it's mostly a weird blip in your life, and you can just deactivate an account you rarely used in the first place. Since you're stuck at Darkwick, it's not like your social life in the "real" world is exactly popping off, anyway. Despite logically knowing that nothing will happen to you, that the vitriol is being spewed by complete strangers who don't know you at all, you still feel shaken at the reminder that regular humans can be even worse than many of the anomalies you've experienced.

Even the sparse comments about you being cute together (which are repulsive in their own way, for obvious reasons) feel weird and invasive, as if you're their friend. It's like they think they know you, and that their opinion matters enough for you to hear it.

Leo deals with all of that constantly? Sure, he basically signed up for it and is apparently completely fine, but it still just… doesn't feel right.

Yeah, you dislike him, but he's not exactly evil. He's a douche who cares more about himself than anyone else, which is not a rare trait in the world. He just also happens to have brains and guts, without the morals that would keep him from using those around him.

So, a shitty guy, but not the absolute worst. At least, not evil enough for the insane hostility you received firsthand.

Then again, he's gotten those types of messages and was more than willing to put you in the line of fire. So maybe he is a little evil.

Why did he even post you to his TikTok as his girlfriend, anyway? For all his apparent dismissiveness of your capabilities, the guy is definitely way too vain to choose any random passerby, even if he later reveals it to be a joke. In its own fucked up little way, it's almost a compliment that he seems to think you're objectively attractive enough to be a believable partner to his audience.

Not that you're flattered.

Well… a small, petty part of you kind of is, because while Leo acts like a steaming pile of garbage, he's a steaming pile of garbage with taste.

Huh, then maybe he did actually mean what he said about you being able to handle it?

Nah, that can't be right.

Whatever. You have more important things to worry about than a toxic, twink-shaped gremlin. Like your new assignment with the Jabberwock ghouls. That should be your current number-one priority. You should probably go over the investigation notes right now, actually.

SHOulders: Hey Y/N, u free?

You're a strong independent woman who can prioritize important, life-altering tasks over silly crushes. You are, you can resist–

You: Yeah! What's up?

~~~~~

"So? What do you think of the sign?"

"It's amazing! It's even more impressive than it was in the photo."

Sho grins at your compliments, though he tries not to show just how pleased he is about your heartfelt praise.

"Didn't I say flattery'll get you nowhere?"

He's lying, of course. Flattery from you is always welcome, because he can tell you mean it. It's also why he's asked you to look at his menu and signboard before officializing the food truck – you'll give him your honest thoughts. Leo would have opinions on things that are trending, but Sho doesn't really want to rely on gimmicks. For all his irritation with the restrictions at Darkwick (and having to deal with his annoying ass brother), this food truck is something he's actually excited about.

Sho doesn't tend to take most things seriously… he's naturally intelligent and athletic, so he's never really had to try hard to get by. Not wanting anything badly means he'll never be disappointed if something doesn't pan out. Besides, Leo's the type of best friend to make fun of any endeavor or interest he doesn't deem worthy.

But you're different.

You work so hard every day to make up for the qualities you believe you lack, from struggling through workouts to staying up late to catch up on the classwork you miss due to being sent on missions. Maybe once he would have scoffed at your efforts, but instead, it gives him the courage to try something new.

It's safe to show you how much the food truck actually means to him. You're the one who constantly raves about his food, whose encouragement and support has helped his tiny idea grow into an actual dream. He trusts you.

"Do you have a date?"

Huh? A date for what? Why do you want to know about his love life? Or is this your way of asking him to –

You hand back the menu you were looking at, and Sho realizes you mean for his food truck opening.

Right. Thank goodness, because you guys have a good friendship that does not need to be complicated by anything like that.

"By next week, I guess? So long as no one gets in my way."

"I'm really looking forward to it!"

Yeah, the sensation in his chest is most definitely relief, not disappointment.

~~~~~

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Kurokawa," you reply drily as you put down your heavy bag, unsurprised by Leo's unwelcoming greeting. He's lounging on a couch in the common area, and you suppress an internal sigh.

It's not surprising to run into him at the Vagastrom dorm, but you had hoped he was out turning princes into frogs, forcing poor parents to exchange their firstborn for vegetables, or whatever it is he does for fun.

"It's Kurosagi."

You ignore his correction, because you know it pisses him off.

You sometimes wonder why Sho bothers with Leo when you've never seen Leo do anything nice for his so-called best friend, but it's not your place to judge. You're mature enough to understand that there's a history there you're not aware of, and that you've only known them for a very short period of time.

"Maybe I'm here to see my darling influencer boyfriend," you say sarcastically, giving him the fakest smile you can manage as you plop down next to him. You know he doesn't like you, so it's another easy way to annoy him (if at your own expense). "How could I go a day without seeing that pretty face?"

You're mature enough to understand. That doesn't mean you're mature enough to not hate it. If you can't avoid Leo, you're going to do your best to be as annoying as possible when you do have to interact with him.

"Ugh, don't sit so close," Leo grumbles, despite not making a single move to move away like the lazy little princess he is. He does smell nice though, probably some trendy cologne that he uses to cover up the stench of his rotten personality. "Have you even showered today?"

Wow. You know you smell nice because you did, in fact, shower today. Right before coming here, to be exact, because despite Sho's knowledge of your sweaty form after training sessions, you want his memories to be of you fresh and perfumed.

There is really no need for Leo to be so fucking rude all the fucking time. Especially when you've done nothing to deserve it but apparently have the audacity to exist in his presence. If anything, you've been downright charitable in never bringing up "the incident" at the Pit. Though if you're being honest, it's also something you don't want to remember, because the knowledge that you willingly ground up against his dick – even if it was out of spite – is too embarrassing to think about.

Sure, he's pretty, but you have your standards.

Why are you even thinking about this right now? Clearly you have been spending way too much time either studying, doing odd jobs for the ghouls, and daydreaming about Sho if you're even thinking of Leo in any sexual-adjacent light. You don't even really want to think about him at all.

You know that being ignored is one of the things that bothers him most of all (an attention-seeking diva, truly), so you grab a textbook out of your bag and begin to read.

~~~~~

Leo knows he's an asshole.

He's perfectly fine with it. Sometimes, it even sparks joy.

Such as now, when you're scowling at him in a way that makes him want to antagonize you even further. You're always so nice and friendly to everyone that it's satisfying to be the one to elicit a different reaction out of you. It's a matter of pride that he's the only one that can make you lose your temper.

Besides, it's not his fault you look so cute when you're pissed off.

Leo freezes when he realizes what just crossed his mind, but before he can figure out exactly where that ridiculous thought came from, you're pulling a textbook out of your bag.

… Are you seriously about to study while sitting so close to Leo he can smell your flowery shampoo?

"Can I help you, Kurohagi?"

His eyebrow twitches, and he realizes he's been staring at you. And that you fucked up his last name, again.

"You're getting very comfortable, aren't you?" he replies in a scornfully, wondering why exactly you're even visiting when Leo's the only one here.

Unless… you came to see him. Maybe you're just playing it off as if you weren't, to save face. Why else would you even sit so close to him, anyway?

"I'm just waiting for Sho to get back, he said he'd be here soon," you reply with a shrug that annoys Leo for reasons he can't explain. Your answer makes far more sense, and yet that just pisses him off even more. So he does what he does best.

"It's cute how you're being such a good little gofer for Sho," he says mildly, pretending not to care one way or the other. "He's always been good at getting people to do things for him."

You stiffen, and uncertainty flits across your face before you straighten your expression. Though you're obviously trying to hide it, the way you shift away from him reveals that he hit a nerve.

It was exactly what he was going for, but the usual satisfaction feels hollow, as if the words have left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. You don't snap back with your usual fire the way he expected. Instead you just look back at your book, and the sour feeling magnifies.

An oppressive silence blankets the two of you while unfamiliar pressure weighs down his chest, and Leo is almost relieved when the tell-tale sound of a rumbling engine signals Sho's arrival.

His friend's face brightens instantly when his eyes land on you, which irritates Leo in a way he can't explain. You smile back, though it's more subdued than usual.

"I brought the rest of the stuff from the diner," you call out, and the way Sho jogs to greet you seems to restore some of the sparkle in your eyes. It does not alleviate some of the heaviness Leo is feeling.

"Awesome, thanks," Sho replies with a grin. "You know you didn't have to, right?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to."

Barf. Are you guys fucking serious? It's nauseating, the way Sho is smiling at you like a lovesick puppy. Does he have no pride at all?

"Oh, Leo," Sho calls. Great, he's finally been noticed.

"What?" Leo replies a little petulantly, crossing his arms. Everything about this situation is pissing him off, and he doesn't even understand why.

"Stop pouting and help me out, I was able to pick up some liquor when I went on my grocery run."

"Ugh, fine," he grumbles, mollified by the promise of a night of drinking. It's sadly the closest they can get to clubbing when Darkwick watches their every move.

Leo stands to help grab some of Sho's bags and notices that you're hanging back with an uncertain look on your face. Are you stupid enough to actually take Leo's words to heart when it's obvious you have his best friend wrapped around your pretty little finger?

"Are you coming or not?" he asks testily, shoving a few bags in your direction. "We're not sharing if you don't help."

Your eyes widen at the implied invitation, and even Sho makes a sound of surprise.

"I… uh… yeah," you stammer, hurrying up from the couch to take the bag Leo is holding out. "Thanks?"

You still look and sound confused, but the smile you give him is genuine. It's the first time he's been on the receiving end of that particular expression of yours, and sunlight eases the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It's similarly disconcerting, and Leo has no idea what to make of it.

"Whatever, just hurry up."

~~~~~

Prev | Masterlist | Next

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Unbound

Part 7 - Putting on a Brave Face

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 6.2k

Warnings - general angst/anxiety, light swearing, canon typical fighting, memory loss.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Celeste stared pointedly at Nesta. The breakfast tray that Elain had just brought up was laying over her outstretched legs in the bed. The taste of the bile from last night still lingered even after brushing her teeth. Her stomach gave a needy rumble and Celeste knew she should eat something. 

“Celeste, honey. I’m so, so sorry.” Nesta started from her position in the chair at the bedside. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I promise. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon after waking up. You were so terrified and we didn’t want to scare you even more.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Celeste asked with a narrowed glare, the piece of toast she had been nibbling now abandoned. Nesta sounded genuinely upset at the thought of hurting Celeste by withholding information but she couldn’t let go of that nagging suspicion. 

“Well, all of us. Everyone who cares about you.” Nesta dropped her gaze from Celeste’s face and started down and her hands in her lap. “This is all new to us too, you know. We were just trying to do what we thought was best.”

Celeste tried to hide the annoyance from her face. 

New to them? They aren’t the ones who woke up with no knowledge of their life.

Another look at Nesta and she calmed her flare of anger. It was obvious she was trying to be a good friend here and there was genuine worry written across her face. She had been nothing but kind to Celeste since she woke up.

“Is there a reason that knowing Azriel is my husband should scare me?” She asked.

Nesta’s chin shot up to look at Celeste once more. “What?”

“You said that you didn’t want to scare me more. Is there a reason I should be afraid of him?”

“No. No, of course not.” Nesta’s countenance softened, her mouth quirking at the corner. “But you did wake up thinking that he and Cassian were guards here to haul you off. I didn’t think  breaking the news that one of them was your husband would go over very well.”

The explanation sounded perfectly logical. Celeste was sure that she would have indeed taken it badly finding that out so soon after waking up. She didn’t exactly take it well when she found out last night either. 

“We weren’t trying to actively keep you from knowing.” Nesta continued when Celeste remained quiet. “I just hadn’t exactly discussed with Az how to go about doing it yet.”

“Do you need his permission to tell me things?” That ugly suspicion rose up again full force.

This time Nesta scoffed. “I don’t need his permission to do anything,” she said seriously. “His or anyone else's. And neither do you.”

Reaching over the bedspread to grasp Celeste’s hand she carried on. “I know why you are thinking the things you are, Celeste, but it’s not like that here. That isn’t your life any longer. You are safe here. Safe and loved and free to do whatever you want. No one is going to punish you for anything you do, I promise.”

“What do you know of my life before?” There was no malice in her question.

“Enough. You’ve told me a lot of it, but I’m sure there are things you haven’t told me. And that’s ok. It’s your story to tell. But I know how you were treated and the punishments that were inflicted upon you. Those things will never happen here. Not to you or me or anyone else. I wouldn’t stand for it.”

Celeste briefly thought about how easy it was for Nesta to say that. It was easy to say you wouldn’t tolerate something until it was happening to you. Until you had no choice and no way out. She knew first hand that a person would tolerate a lot of things they disagreed with if it meant staying alive. 

The room remained quiet as Celeste continued to pick at her food. Nesta didn’t push or prod any further. 

“Is he kind?” Celeste’s voice broke the silence. “You said Cassian was like a giant puppy in battle leathers. Is Azriel like that too?”

Nesta’s laugh rang through the room as she threw her head back. “No, I wouldn’t say the same thing about Az,” she gathered her breath again. “Cassian likes to joke around. He teases and pokes and tries to make people laugh. And drives me crazy most days. But Azriel is different. He’s the quiet one. Stoic. He had a rough start in life and he can be very hard to read until you know him and even then it’s not easy.”

Nesta paused as she gave Celeste’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But he is kind. He is one of the kindest males I have ever met. He has always been one to do anything to protect those that he loves.”

Celeste studied Nesta’s eyes as she relayed her answer. Her gray eyes were clear and genuine. She could tell that she believed wholeheartedly everything she was saying, but that didn’t stop that wiggle of doubt from creeping in. 

“He would do anything for you, Celeste. He loves you, truly.” Nesta’s eyes never broke contact.

Instead of the wiggle of doubt, Celeste felt a sensation she wasn’t familiar with. It was small and not insistent enough to latch on to. Just a quick flashing flicker in the middle of her gut. 

“I’m sick of this bed.” Celeste changed the subject. “I want to get up. I feel fine.”

After dressing in another pair of those impossibly soft pants and a shirt that was definitely hers this time, Nesta led her out of the bedroom into the hall. As they began making their way towards the stairs she pointed out the library Celeste had discovered last night. 

“We usually hang out in here. We could sit and read if you want.”

Celeste surveyed the room from the doorway where they stood but her attention was focused on the door just a few feet away. The entrance to the office was closed fully this time and the murmur of voices could be heard behind it. 

“Or we could sit outside.” Nesta continued when she didn’t answer. “Some fresh air maybe?”

Celeste tore her focus back to the woman next to her. “Yes, fresh air. I think I’d like that.”

They made their way down the stairs and headed for the front door. Before they could cross the entirety of the entryway a boisterous voice rang out behind them. 

“Nes,” Cassian called as he trundled down the stairs. “I’m heading out after lunch. I have to meet Rhys. Do you want me to carry you home or are you staying here?” He turned to Celeste. “Good to see you up and about. Feeling better?” A wide unfeigned smile spread across his face.

Nesta watched Celeste as she just nodded at his question with a downcast look. “No, I think I’ll stay. But carry some food with you to Feyre would you. Elain cooked enough to feed an army.”

“Or for the General Commander of an army at least.” Cassian smiled at his own joke but it fell flat on his audience.

Celeste wasn’t listening, as she had raised her gaze, she spotted another figure still making his way down the stairs. Azriel, reaching the entryway floor, didn’t approach their small gathering but instead left a wide berth as he sidled past them toward the back hallway. His eyes locked solely on Celeste.

Her heart began to pick up rapidly as the thought of stumbling upon him last night sprang forth and her body jolted into action, taking an involuntary step backwards. His eyes still hadn’t left hers, his brows furrowed inward as he flinched at her movement. 

“Are you going with Cas?” Nesta asked after him. 

“No.” he replied meekly, turning away from them.

Celeste followed his movements as he retreated, Nesta’s earlier words ringing through her mind.

Stoic.

Kind.

He loves you, truly.

The next few days progressed in much the same quiet way. Celeste normally tucked herself into a book or sat placidly outside watching people pass by out front, Nesta a constant by her side. Her interactions with Azriel were hardly more than a meal shared with others or a quick passing in the hallway. She had poked around in every room by now and even though there were signs of her presence all around, it still felt foreign in her mind. The clothes in the wardrobe were definitely hers. The official letters and correspondence in the library desk were penned in her hand. The small trinkets and style of decoration all throughout the house were definitely her taste. She hadn’t gone delving too deeply though, not wanting to find anything too damning in the presence of her friend. But so far she had found no sign of her past self in these walls. The only self she knew now. 

Nesta. My friend. 

Confusing as it was to have no memories of their friendship, it still felt right to call Nesta her friend. She had been nothing but kind and straightforward with her since her whole world had been flipped upside down, doing her best to help her navigate through. Celeste was especially relieved to find her close by at night the few times she had abruptly awakened from more dreams. They were never fully materialized, just snippets portrayed randomly in no particular order. But they were enough to get her body flooded with adrenaline and jolted from sleep. 

“Smells like Elain is at it again.” Nesta’s voice broke through her wandering thoughts. “Let’s go down before it gets cold. I’m starving.”

They settled down to eat in the dining room along with Elain, who had joined them for many of the meals since she had cooked a fair number of them. Cassian heaped his plate full across the table from them, a nod of thanks in Elain’s direction. His presence during the day was nearly as constant as Nesta’s, stopping in after training and his official duties before retiring to the House of Wind at night. The final member of their lunch party rejoined them, Azriel settling himself back into his chair after seeing Rhys out. 

“Well that’s good news then.” Cassian said referencing the news Rhys had just brought them regarding Helion’s response. “We just might have some answers tomorrow.”

Cassian’s wink in Celeste’s direction made her slightly uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as it would have a few days ago. Cassian was quick to laugh and hardly ever without a smile or a joke. His easiness in any company had done a lot to begin melting Celeste’s persistent worry.

Helion’s impending visit had a tangible tension hanging in the air however, mostly radiating from the opposite side of the table. The charged atmosphere had Celeste on edge but she didn’t quite feel the same way about the news. She wasn’t allowing herself to get her hopes up only for them to be dashed. 

“Are there always this many people in and out of here?” Celeste piped up, changing the subject. 

Cassian smirked. “You can kick us out anytime you like, you know.”

Azriel’s hard glare in his direction had him smirking at his plate instead. “Not normally this frequently, no.” Az answered as if it took some effort to keep his voice even.

“Often enough that Azriel keeps threatening to move though.” Nesta’s mouth perked up into her own smirk at the Illyrian across the table. Another hard glare in her direction didn’t break her gaze though.

“What?” she challenged. “We all know you secretly love it, Shadowsinger.”

“Enough.” Azriel snapped harshly.

The sharp change in atmosphere had Celeste freezing with her fork halfway to her mouth. She remained still as her eyes darted over the rest of their company. Elain’s eyes went wide for a split second before she straightened her napkin in her lap. Cassian and Nesta exchanged a quick look between them before Cas shoved an elbow into Azriel’s side.

“Don’t worry,” he directed at Celeste. “Nobody’s moving anywhere. I simply won’t allow it. I’d starve if that happened.”

“The house can conjure anything you want Cassian. You aren’t in danger of starving.” Nesta quipped. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t listen to me. You two have that in common.” Another smirk graced his face and with Nesta’s answering crack of a laugh the tension was broken.

For everyone but Celeste that was. She risked a glance at the figure across from her. The tension rolling off of him had his shadows flowing over his shoulders in waves. The name Nesta had called Azriel had her attention drawn to those strange wisps that she had noticed he was never without. She had caught them a few times slowly drifting over her skin whenever she was close enough, which wasn’t often. She had wondered what they were and where they came from, asking Nesta once.

“I don’t really know what they are. They just — are," she had said. “I don’t think he’s ever explained how they came to be or if he even really knows himself.”

It was Azriel’s observance that she was staring that shook her back into the present. Dipping her head towards her plate, Celeste pushed her food around with her fork, no longer hungry but not wanting to offend Elain. 

The chatter that had accompanied the meal at the start was now just a quick remark here or there, mainly between the sisters and Cassian. 

“What would I be doing now if things were normal?” She asked during a lull in the conversation. “Like during a typical day?”

The word normal seemed to rub against the already tense aura around Azriel, his wings shuffling before he pulled them in again. A scowl flashing across his face. 

“Seeing patients, I suppose,” offered Nesta. “It all depends on the needs of the day and the rotation schedule and things like that.”

“You’d be in the clinic.” Azriel spoke. His voice was much calmer now but his body and face still tense. “It’s your clinic rotation this week.”

“Clinic? Where’s that? I thought I did house calls?” Celeste hadn’t asked for a lot of information about her usual routine outside of the healer abilities she had no memory of acquiring. She had tried once or twice in secret to pull forth whatever force should be within her but found no answering magic.

“It’s downtown.” Azriel answered her again, now pushing around his own food on his plate. “You do house calls mostly, but all the healers do clinic rotations for a week at a time.”

“It’s for patients that need round the clock care or more specialized treatment.” Nesta added. 

“Could I go there? I’d like to see it. Do you think they would have something for me to do?” Celeste looked toward Nesta hoping she’d volunteer as her chaperone. “I’d like to feel useful and get out of this house for a bit.” 

The clank of Azriel’s fork dropping to his plate made everyone jump. With another uneasy ruffling of his wings, he excused himself from the table. 

“I’m sure they could always use an extra set of hands somewhere.” Nesta answered smoothly as she gave a nod to Cassian. “I can take you if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. Thanks, Nes.”

It was the first time Celeste had used her nickname since this whole ordeal had begun. The small smile she gave her friend was heartwarming and bright.

“Anytime.”

“Leave it to Az to be such a neat freak.” Cassian quipped to himself as he sifted through the wardrobe. The clothing on the hangers was precise and neat, training leathers arranged by season, shirts ordered by type and color. Even the casual loungewear pants were neatly folded into thirds and stacked by color on the bottom shelf. “I bet he folds his socks too.”

With a flick of his fingers against the handle of a drawer he gained his answer. “Yup.”

Cassian gathered the haphazard pile he had tossed behind him as he selected items and tossed everything over one arm. Marching down the hall past the stairs, he didn’t even knock on the closed door he was headed for.

“Brother. Buddy. Pal.” He said jovially as he made his way across Azriel’s office and dumped his armload on the desktop. “Get dressed. We’re going on a field trip.”

Azriel eyed the pile of leathers in front of him with his neutral stoicism. “I’m working. Something you should be doing as well.”

With a sweep of one arm, Az deposited the pile onto the floor beside his chair and made to gather the stack of papers that had been strewn across his desk. 

“I know for a fact that you have deferred everything but your daily reports until further notice. The reports can wait. Our little field trip however, can’t.” Cassian’s lighthearted voice relayed his words but his eyes carried a hint of warning.

“Not now, Cassian.” Azriel countered with a warning of his own.

“Yes. Now.” His tone was no longer light.

Holding Cassian’s stare, Azriel didn’t respond. But when he moved to grab the fountain pen from its holder and continue on with whatever task he had in mind, Cassian took action. One large palm deposited itself over top the stack of papers as he leaned in closer to his brother across the desk.

“You scared her down there today. Not as much as you could have, but you still scared her.” Cassian’s voice carried a deadly timbre that most people only associated with the Spymaster. “I know that wasn’t your intention but given her history I don’t think you want to find out how easy it would be to go too far.”

Cassian straightened himself to standing, tugging at his own leathers to adjust them. “So you can sit here and brood and deal with the consequences or you can get yourself dressed and get your ass out the door.”

A deadly rumble of a growl came straight from Azriel’s chest. It was the realization of scaring Celeste that did the trick. The thought sickened him to his core. 

“Fucking asshole.” Az grunted as he pushed himself up and bent to gather the pile from the floor.

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking asshole, Illyrian bastard, ‘Ow, Cas you’re on my hair.’ I’ve heard it all before.” Cassian smirked as he mimicked his mate, his jovial attitude returning. “Get dressed. Time’s wasting.”

Less than an hour later, the two winged warriors touched down from flight into an open clearing deep in the Night Court woods. As Azriel shuffled his wings, Cassian rounded to face him.

“Well, let’s get the ball rolling. I’d like to be back in time for dinner.” He said, cracking his knuckles in a fist and rolling his shoulders. 

Azriel’s body was taut with energy, his shoulders practically hunched to his ears with tension but the deepening glower towards Cassian was the only movement he made. 

“Don’t make me tie you up and kidnap you until you are ready to cooperate.” Cassian winked. “I’d hate to resort to such measures.”

The growl that echoed through the trees had Cassian crouching slightly into defense, prepared for the blow he was sure was about to come. But nothing followed except for the groan of leather as Azriel gripped his damaged hands into fists at his sides. 

He waited one beat, then two. The shadows were creating a small breeze with all the whipping around they were doing between them, but Azriel remained motionless. 

“It’s for your own good and you know it.”

Silence.

Azriel didn’t want to be here. He didn’t care if it was for his own good like Cassian said. He didn’t want to play this game, he just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to stew in the roiling thoughts inside his own head that he had always been prone to escaping in. That escape felt comfortable and familiar even if the thoughts themselves were eating him from the inside. 

“Take it out on me now. Or keep on like you are and you’ll have her running scared,” Cassian remarked, no tease within his tone and with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Straight into the arms of the next male to warm her bed.”

There was no warning growl this time. In the blink of an eye, Azriel lowered himself and lunged straight for Cassian’s hips in an attempt to tackle him. With a swift dodge, Cas managed to miss the grab but he wasn’t quick enough to maneuver out of the path of the wing that slammed his shoulder and spun him around. Before he could even plant his feet to defend himself, Azriel’s fist met his cheekbone, snapping his neck viciously to one side. 

A wet rattling cough sounded as Cassian spat blood into the grass. “Ok, I probably deserved that.” Without wasting another second he was immediately on the defense. Azriel was pure fury wrapped in shadow as he struck again.

“I would never hurt her.” He gritted out through clenched teeth as he snatched Cas’s leathers at the shoulders and swept his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick. Pushing even more force through his arms, he slammed Cassian on his back onto the hard ground and topped it off with a punch straight to the gut. 

Cas wheezed as all the air left his lungs. “I know,” he coughed out winded before Az landed another strike to his already swelling jaw. Kicking out with all his might, he managed to hit Az squarely in the chest, tossing him back to land on his backside. 

Azriel was on his feet again in a flash. Around and around they brawled, occasionally grappling on the ground after one of them had been pinned. No more words were needed, just the sounds of their exertion and growls of injury rang through the clearing. 

Eventually Azriel had Cassian pinned on his back, knees planted firmly on top of his shoulders. As he pulled back his arm preparing to land another blow he suddenly lost all steam and tucked in his wings as he flopped to the side, rolling onto his back. Azriel lay there, gasping for breath through a busted lip and one working nostril, the other clotted with blood and well on its way to being swollen. Cassian remained beside him sprawled out on the grass, silent.

“I scared her.” Az broke the silence, staring above him toward the sky at the tree tops. 

“It can still be fixed.” Cassian replied, still unmoving.

Even Azriel’s shadows were tired, laying perfectly still like a cloak tossed over his front. His heavy sigh had them scattering like the seeds from a wishing flower. 

Az rolled his neck to peer over at his brother. “What if it can’t be though?”

“She’ll come around. She just needs time.” Cassian swiveled his own gaze to his brother. 

“Not just that. I mean her memory – what if,” Azriel paused, gathering his shortened breath as that chasm deep inside him spasmed. “What if it can’t be fixed without a mating bond?”

Cassian pushed himself up to sit. “What? Az, brother, this didn’t happen because you two don't have a mating bond. Don’t think like that.”

“But what if it can’t be fixed without one? Remember what Feyre told us about under the mountain? When she died, she held onto that bond and that was before she even knew it was there.” Azriel’s throat felt like it was closing up and the shadows began their swirling movements once more as he pulled himself up to sit as well. “What if I were able to give Celeste her memories back with a bond?”

Cassian ran a rough hand through his disheveled hair. This wasn’t his forte. He was the Lord of Bloodshed, a slayer of enemies. The intricacies of magic wasn’t something he had the confidence in to give Az the answers he wanted. 

“Helion will be able to tell us something surely. He is the SpellCleaver after all.” He sighed.

The birdsong had returned to the clearing after their raucous battle and the lull in conversation amplified their songs. Azriel sat hugging his knees, staring unfocused at the ground before his feet. He was trying not to pin all his hopes on the outcome of Helion’s arrival, but if he couldn’t get any information from him, Az was at a loss. He felt like he was failing his wife, his sweet Celeste. Due to her history and where her mind was stuck in time, she had woken up terrified of him. He didn’t know what to do with that. The urge to comfort her, to take her into his arms and assure her she was safe, was all he could think about. That would only terrify her more. She didn’t know him and finding out he was her husband had made the whole situation worse. He was a stranger in her eyes. 

“I think she was relieved.” Az choked out past the tightness of his throat. “When I told her there was no mating bond. I’m a stranger to her Cas.”

“She needs time.” Cas repeated his earlier sentiment. “She has had a lot of information thrown at her in a short amount of time. It’s not just you who feels like a stranger to her. It’s not just all these new faces she woke up to. She probably feels like a stranger to herself too. To find out she has a life she doesn't remember? To not have any recollection of all the choices she made that led her into that life? That’s got to be a serious mind fuck. She doesn’t know who that Celeste is.”

He had spent so much time grappling with how to reconcile the fact that they were all strangers to her that Azriel hadn’t really considered she was also a stranger to herself. He had focused so much on her fear and his grief that it didn’t click until now. 

“What if this time she chooses differently?” Az’s voice hardly above a whisper as that chasm yawned painfully, stealing his breath away. “What if this time she doesn’t choose me?”

“She hasn’t run yet.” Cassian answered with a soft smile. At his brother’s apparent confusion he continued. “Celeste could have run for the hills as soon as she realized the situation she was in. She trusts Nesta now, she could have begged her for sanctuary anytime in the past few days. She could have left that house for somewhere she felt safer already. There are a thousand choices she could have made since waking up that she didn’t make. Something inside is telling her to hold out and see where she lands even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”

Azriel contemplated his words in silence, the look on his face told Cassian he wasn’t quite convinced.

“Do you still love her?” He asked.

“Of course I do.” Az scoffed.

Cas nodded knowingly at his answer. “The Celeste you fell in love with is still there. And the Azriel she fell in love with is still here too.”

The day had progressed much faster than most of the previous ones. Probably due to the fact that Celeste had actual tasks to complete instead of roaming around the townhouse. Nesta had graciously accompanied her to the healer’s clinic earlier that morning before jetting off to do some much needed errands. Celeste felt a bit like a burden for having taken up all of Nesta’s time over the past week. She was still sleeping at Celeste’s side, although now at least she had moved from the armchair into the more than ample bed. 

She hadn’t recognized anyone upon arriving at the clinic, hoping to at least see Marin or Selah who she had been acquainted with in the couple days after waking up. The faces were all new to her however, but they all knew her considering she was their boss. The title felt strange to Celeste, the thought of managing so many people and schedules and needs was overwhelming. Quickly though she was set to task and was able to set her thoughts to the job at hand rather than her own swirling thoughts.

A positively tiny healer by the name of Elora had suggested that Celeste could start on inventory since it was due to be done in the next month or so anyway. She was provided with a list, strangely written out in her own hand, and shown to the back room. 

The walls were filled with glass fronted cabinets and open shelving of all kinds. Mismatched in color and height, they were arranged in whatever way could be fit. Deciding to start from the left most side of the room she began. By lunchtime she was no further than the third cabinet down, the depths of the shelves inside each cabinet seeming to hold a neverending assortment. It didn’t help that healers were constantly in and out of the door in search of their needed items causing Celeste to backtrack and amend her previous counts. 

Just a couple hours later, she tucked the list back into the office that she was told was hers and set herself on the bench outside to wait for Nesta. She had said she would return by now to walk her home but she was still nowhere in sight. The sun warmed Celeste’s skin and the sounds of the movements of downtown lulled in the background of her thoughts. With no task to complete now they had begun ramping back up to full swing. 

Slipping in the door once more, she found Elora and pulled her aside. “Would you please let Nesta know I headed back already.”

Elora gave her a wide eyed stare. “Are you sure? She might worry.”

“I can make it back home on my own,” Celeste answered politely. “It’s really not hard. I remember the way.”

Elora just gave her a nod and went on to her next patient.

Celeste did remember the way, at least she was pretty sure she did. Once she got out of the downtown proper she knew it was just a curving road along the outskirts until she reached her street. She eyed the posts on the corner closest to the clinic and pulled at her memory of earlier this morning. 

Yes, we definitely came from that street. And then a right at the next one I believe.

Confident in her path, Celeste set out. It wasn’t long before her thoughts began getting louder and she found it hard to block them out completely. Letting herself pick them apart a little at a time while she took in her surroundings, she carried on over the cobblestones. 

First and foremost in her mind was the incident from when she had wandered the house. Stumbling upon Azriel by surprise was bad enough, but the revelation that he was her husband still made her reel if she thought about it too long. She had not spent much time in his company outside of shared meals and so she hardly knew anything else about him other than what her friends had relayed to her. She had found that Nesta’s words still rang true. Stoic? Check. Kind? As far as she could tell, but she had spent zero time alone with him. Truly loved her? 

She shook that thought away before she could pry at it too deeply. Celeste couldn’t stomach the crawling feeling that it gave her in her gut. It wasn’t that Azriel was bad looking, he was actually quite beautiful. But love? How could anyone love someone so damaged as her? She was afraid to be alone, afraid of males in general, afraid of getting hurt. How could that attract love?

That is the old you, the you from before. You are a different person now, you just don’t remember.

Celeste shook that incessant thought from her brain once more. She didn’t feel like it was the old her. How could it be? How could she now be a different person if she didn’t remember anything about becoming that person?

That spiral of a thought made her pause before letting it slip away. Her brain was fuzzy with too much thinking and she glanced up at her surroundings once more to make sure she was still on the right path. But she wasn’t. Or at least she didn’t think so.

The building before her wasn’t once they had passed this morning, or was it? The gray stone front and full holly bushes out front were generic enough but also oddly familiar. She spun around to take in the rest of the street but before she could get enough of a look, a voice called out to her.

“Celeste!” Nesta called out breathlessly. “Gods spare me!” she gasped as she bent over, hands to knees catching her breath. “You scared me to death, I’ve been running around for three blocks looking for you.”

“Sorry, Nes.” Celeste replied sincerely. “I really thought I could get myself home. I guess I got distracted.” She flashed Nesta a lopsided smile of apology.

“It’s alright. I found you. Thankfully before I had to employ help.” She panted as she righted herself. “Azriel would have never forgiven me. Let’s keep it between us ok?”

At the mention of Azriel, Celeste’s smile faltered and she gave Nesta a quick nod. Nesta’s gaze had shifted before she could see it however, drifting up to the building they still stood in front of.

A frown of thought appeared across her face as she looked at Celeste once more. “Did you mean to come here?”

It was Celeste’s turn to frown. “No, I got distracted and I was just trying to figure out where I was.”

“Strange.” Nesta said wistfully.

“Why is it strange?”

“Just that you would end up here without meaning to. You used to live here. You don’t remember anything about that at all?”

Celeste peered at the building once more trying to unearth that earlier feeling that it looked oddly familiar, but the feeling slipped through her mind like smoke as she tried to grasp at it. 

“No. Nothing.”

“Yeah, you lived here before you and Az were married. I’m pretty sure it was the only place you lived in Velaris before you met all of us.”

Celeste remained staring at the building, trying to imagine herself walking from the lobby doors and carrying out her day to day life, but she had so little idea of what that life actually looked like.

Nesta saw the thick look of concentration on Celeste’s face. “We can go up and see your old apartment if you want. Maybe it would trigger something for you.”

They had been trying unsuccessfully over the past couple days to see if random things could pull forward any of her locked memories. Nesta had even had her read books they had finished hoping maybe even just the plots would ring a bell. 

“We can’t just go knocking on people’s doors asking to peruse their home, Nes.” Celeste giggled at the thought.

“We don’t have to,” Nesta started. “You own the building, you can do whatever you want. Besides, your old apartment is an office anyway so we wouldn’t be barging in or anything.”

“I – own the building?” Celeste stared at her, openmouthed. “And why is my apartment an office? I’m so confused.” 

“Well, technically Az bought it for you. And It’s not just an apartment building anymore. It’s a sanctuary for females escaping violence.” Nesta’s face softens. “You wanted to put it to good use. So you made it a place where they could transition safely into a new life.”

Tears sprang immediately to Celeste’s eyes. This building before her was the start of a new life for others like her. She did this.

“Did-” she choked out. “Did Azriel buy the building so I could do this?” She gestured with her hand toward the building front.

“Well, not exactly.” Nesta’s face twisted as she hesitated. “I don’t know if it's my place to tell you.”

“Whose place would it be Nes? This is my life we are talking about. I want to know.” Celeste demanded.

“I know, honey. It’s just – it feels so personal. But you are right. It’s your life.” Nesta’s face softens as she sighs. “Az bought you the building a few years after you two got together. Even after you moved in with him, you kept secretly renewing the lease on your apartment. You didn’t want to let it go. When it was sold to a buyer who was going to demolish it, Az doubled their offer and bought the building.”

The apparent look of confusion across Celeste’s face had Nesta reaching out, placing a gentle hand on her elbow. 

“You always wanted to make sure you had a place to go. If you ever wanted to leave, you didn’t want to be stuck. He knew about the apartment the whole time, so when the building was being sold he made sure you would always have it.” 

Celeste’s tears were back with a vengeance now, leaking steadily down her face. This revelation rocked against all the previous thoughts in her mind, the fear since waking, the suspicion of Azriel, the worry that her life wasn’t what it seemed. It shook her to her core. 

She turned to Nesta, eyes still glistening. “There’s one more place I want to go.”

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen @prythianpages

@weekendlusting @sarawritestories @ceoofyearning @i-am-infinite @tothestarsandwhateverend

[moltensmusings]

So I forgot to make another rambling post, we continued our Fairy Tail rewatch. We're part way through grand magic games and the fury I feel at how it was written knows no bounds. Time for a bulleted post.

Warning, I'm going to be angry and really tear into the arc:

The hatred the citizens have for fairy tail is so stupidly convoluted and done just to make the audience root for fairy tail. You're telling me the entire populace hates a guild for just kind of sucking in games and not being that great? When we had the arena hating Rebecca in one piece, it made sense because to the general public, she was from the family that slaughtered citizens and brought terror to the land. In fairy tail it was done to make us care.

Raventail had literally no reason to be competing, and everything surrounding them is contradictory and infuriating. First, it doesn't make sense for them to join a big spectacle of their goal was to get information from guild members. Why wouldn't they just kidnap laxus or one of the other characters to force them into revealing things? Also, them being a dark guild, which we are told aren't sanctioned guilds, and yet Jellal not being allowed to go after them "because of interguild conflict." No, mashima just wanted them to be there. It makes no logical sense for Jellal to be held back on the principle of not stirring guild conflict when Raventail isn't recognized as a guild. Ivan having a much more down low confrontation with Laxus and Makarov would've been so much better than us getting some dumb plotline about how "laxus beats them all because they're just weak" like we get in every single arc. They only exist to give fairy tail a rival to fight and the "cruel guild who doesn't care about it's members and only wants power" is already filled by Sabertooth. What purpose did they serve?

Why would mashima have Flare be sadistic and gleeful if she was only doing what she did to try and save herself? It makes literally no sense for her to act the way she did. It would be one thing if we got any indication in her scenes that her personality was an act put on for Ivan, but we see her laughing and jeering with her guild even when she's not the main focus so why would she be excited if she didn't actually want to do it?

I really hate how no other guild is allowed to be in anyway as strong as fairy tail once our main characters are introduced. It makes fights so insanely boring. We never get actually shown instances of characters getting stronger, the show tells us they did and we have to believe it.

Heaven forbid a woman be allowed to actually win in this show unless she's Erza Scarlet. No girl is allowed to just be a strong fighter in their own right. Lucy gets humiliated and abused constantly during the GMG for no reason other than making the audience hate enemies. Wendy isn't allowed to go into the Cheria fight and properly win or lose (don't even get me started on the forced in red herring of Cheria being evil). Cana can't have her own strength or abilities despite testing to be an S-Class wizard. Apparently none of the mermaid heel women are allowed to actually be strong wizards outside of Kagura because heaven forbid we get actually challenging match ups.

How is it that we supposedly have Lacrima watching the game and judges/guards keeping an eye on things and yet apparently no one notices Raventail cheating? And when someone does notice them he just ignores it? What is even the point of any set up and world building if we throw it out the window just to make conflict work in your story. Mashima forcibly sets up a "Fairy tail vs the world" concept for GMG and it's so stupid and badly done that I don't even get mad at the other characters. I get mad at Mashima.

I'm chosing to ignore the random fanservice fight because it was pointless and so many characters were weirdly written just to put them in skimpy outfits. If I have to think about Asuka being thrown in during the swimsuit one I think I'll go insane. Also just made me disgusted at all the grown men leering at girls they watched grow up. Such as Makarov who consistently calls guild members his children.

Bacchus deciding he wants to force Lisanna and Mirajane to sleep with him if he wins because heaven forbid we get an antagonistic dude who is written as hatable without making him a creep. Heaven forbid women have agency.

Why was Lucy the one to go back in time when we have Levy narrating? I thought Celesital Wizards couldn't go through the gates they make, or at the very least that time gates took so much energy they killed the ones that use them. Even if it wasn't levy I would've preferred a different character coming back through time to warn everyone.

Mashima flopping between Natsu not caring about naked lucy/people to Natsu suddenly wanting to see her naked within the same arc, baffles me.

The way Mashima writes Mavis makes me so uncomfortable. Another grown women with a petite body he infantalizes. This woman was in her 20s when she died and he treats her like a child.

Erza vs 100 monsters is the one good scene in this arc.

TL;DR- I actually thought I'd enjoy this arc because I loved it as a teenager. But I'm so unbelievably angry at everything happening that I actually am having a horrible time.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various crps x reader w/ anxiety

Pretend I'm yapping away here.. as a side note does anyone have any easy dinner ideas? Or just meals in general

Characters: hoodie, eyeless jack, slenderman

Notes: reader is GN, based off of admins own experience with anxiety so it's not a reflection of everyones experience

CWs: mental health stuff

SLENDERMAN

hes always around to make sure youre in good health and not in danger, he may be a little lost on why youre feeling on edge for seemingly no reason

not much of a talker, but a good listener even if he doesnt always fully understand why youre feeling unwell

something something forest creature whos learning about humans in a more complex way my beloved trope

thinks you may be physically sick, tries to lessen the work load on you and keeps you in bed until you explain whats wrong

unless your anxiety is making you feel physically sick, then hes going to keep doing that so you can take it easy

eliminates any outside stuff that can worsen how youre feeling; media, people, and so on

will make you focus on just him if he has to

HOODIE

i still adore the headcanon that hoodie is pretty touch based when it comes to his partner, so as long as you tell him youre okay with him touching you when youre in a bad state, hes going to at minimum hold your hand

comfort squeezes

on the flip side if you dont want to be touched, hes going to be respecting that and keep his hands to himself

if you have any comfort items that hes aware of hes going to give them to you

if it makes you feel better, he may even take his mask off so you can better read him- he wants you to feel safe and at ease

will take you outside to get some fresh air as long as its not storming out

actually pretty good at enforcing grounding techniques for you when you inform him of them

EYELESS JACK

hes less emotional and more.. logical... if that makes sense. he doesnt mean to be blunt or dismissive, hes just more of a reasoner than a comforter

does his best to relate to you when your anxiety flares up, tries to talk you through it to see if theres anything triggering it... and if its "just because", then he does what he can to get your mind off of it

learns what works for you and what your triggers are as time passes, reacts accordingly in order to make you feel better

if you have meds he makes sure you take them, also general hc he also makes sure youre not mixing your meds with anything that could cause issues (other meds, alcohol, ect ect ect)

has his own struggles himself, though a lot of it is internalized and/or met with rationalizing it; hence the potential coldness in that first line