#he found what colors look best on him and made that his entire personality | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azrielbrainrot · 2 months

Text

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst (not that bad)

Word Count: 6680

Notes: This chapter was actually trying to fight me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3 ○ Part 5

The days were blurring together the longer you stayed in this room. You've long since memorized the golden stripes and swirls beautifully decorating the navy walls, counted the teardrop-like glittering stones hanging from the small chandelier. You've gone through every closet and box in this room as well. Unsurprisingly, the room was almost empty, but you weren't looking through it to find any information anyway, you'd really done it out of boredom, and admittedly some curiosity.

You knew you couldn't complain about your treatment in this house, you'd never heard of a prisoner being treated to home cooked meals and expensive clothes. The House had even brought you books and journals in case you wanted to read or write, and Azriel brought you little treats from the bakeries in town - things you suspect he already knew you liked. He also kept you company every chance he got, even if it meant simply sitting together in silence. You didn't go a day without seeing him. But it was hard to focus on romance novels, chocolate cupcakes or even the captivating hazel eyed male when your entire reality was shattering around you.

The day after you met the High Lord and Lady, Azriel had found you snooping through the few clothes left behind by Feyre, and that same night he dropped off what he called some of your old belongings - some clothes and jewelry so you didn't have to borrow anything else from the High Lady. Everything was neatly folded and carefully arranged, it seems Azriel was extremely meticulous about how to store his late wife's belongings. He told you he's barely allowed himself to touch them in fear of ruining anything.

The clothes had since lost your scent, even if put away in a closed box it would be impossible for it to linger after a century. Still, you knew these were your things, somehow you could feel it deep inside you. You hadn't told Azriel about this, scared of getting his hopes up.

There was nothing personal in the box, Azriel was probably reluctant in letting you see them in case it overwhelmed you and triggered any more painful reactions, but there was enough for you to get a sense of who you were before.

It was clear she lived a happier and much more fulfilled life than yours. The clothes were all beautiful, if a little outdated. They came in all sorts of colors and fabrics, but even if you still liked them now, you know you'd never buy something like this for yourself.

Working at the guild, you had to prioritize functionality. You didn't have many personal belongings, you traveled a lot for missions and had to keep hidden, never staying in the same place for longer than a couple of months at a time. Your clothes reflected this, you prefered to wear pants or even your armor since you never knew when you'd be called for a mission or attacked.

You always had to be ready to drop everything at any moment so there was no use getting attached to anything or anyone. Even your favorite dagger was simply the model you've found works best for you, and you can get it anytime from different blacksmiths. The small hoops currently in your ears are the only jewelry you actually own and it's more of a way to keep the holes open for when you have to do undercover missions in which you might need to dress up.

There was no time or place for getting pretty clothes that made you feel good or buying a nice pair of earrings for the sake of it. Even less for making friends. You were living an empty life, something you always had a hard time coming to terms with, but that seems impossible to accept now that you know what you could have had, what you used to have and was taken from you.

Not being able to even trust your own memories affected you more than you'd ever admit, knowing things you considered unquestionable facts before that night were all made up. You've had to rely on what Azriel tells you and your own intuition to try and fill in the gaps. Your body seemed to be giving you clues, nudging you in the right directions but it only left you beyond frustrated that you could feel like all the answers were on the tip of your tongue but not being able to put your finger on it.

From what you've gathered, the night you disappeared from the Night Court corresponds with the mission in which you almost died, meaning someone in the guild - your handler, if your suspicions are correct - must have found you and brought you in. It's safe to say that, aside from a few lies and omissions here and there, your memories since that night can be trusted. But everything before that was all a lie, over a century of your life was nothing more than a made up story.

A burning feeling behind your eyelids has you forcefully shaking out your thoughts. You can't let yourself get consumed before you even find out what exactly happened, before you can get your revenge. And you refuse to cry in this room where anyone, especially Azriel, could walk in at any moment and see you in such a state. If you had to pick one helpful thing the guild taught you, it was how to handle your emotions.

You knew the High Lord was making good on his promise, knew that Azriel was working to help you as well. He'd only ever left your side to look into any information you could give him about the guild, though your knowledge was limited. You weren't a high ranking member and they were more than careful. You didn't know anything about the other members, as much as they didn't know anything about you.

Still, you weren't used to waiting around while everyone else did all the work and it took them over a week to schedule a new meeting with you, where you hopefully will learn more about this whole situation and what they intend to do with you. It feels like they're keeping you in the dark, something you knew you'd also do in their place, but that has left you feeling nothing but frustrated and worthless.

That meeting was happening in less than an hour and anticipation was eating away at you. Azriel promised he was going to take you to the office, letting you use him as a safety line as you've done so often these days.

Aside from the welcome information and decisions you hope would be talked through, you were also just excited to leave this room for a few hours at least. Only being able to feel the wind through an open window was getting old, and the city below this house felt like it was almost calling to you at this point, but you were too scared of seeming too interested since you didn't know if they'd find it suspicious. Just because the High Lord left the room on a friendlier note doesn't mean he'll trust you completely after what you've done.

You were technically allowed out of the room, free to walk around the House, with Azriel's supervision of course, but after your first attempt you decided it wasn't worth the trouble.

It had been mostly a miscalculation on your part. You were so consumed with your problems and with finding some sort of distraction that you almost forgot Azriel wasn't the only one you knew before, didn't stop to think what reaction they all would have to you.

Azriel asked you to join him for breakfast downstairs as he usually did, trying to get you to move around and talk with the other residents of the House. You accepted, tired of being in the stuffy room and curious to meet the General and his mate, who you've sometimes felt around the House and heard so much about from Azriel.

The atmosphere turned painfully awkward as soon as you entered the dining room with the shadowsinger at your side, making the other residents of the house look up to meet your eyes, surprised you had left the room. It wasn't long before Cassian stormed out, barely making an excuse on his way out after getting a good look at you, his mate following right behind him.

You ended up eating breakfast alone with Azriel, the same way you would have if you'd stayed in your room like you always did instead. Except now you couldn't take the general's haunted expression out of your mind. It truly had looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maybe he did.

Azriel apologized to you on his behalf, even though it wasn't his or Cassian's fault, and you're almost positive there was some sort of fight between them, though you hope not too severe. You'd hate for Azriel to get into arguments with his family over you. He didn't invite you downstairs again after that, simply joining you in your room whenever he could. The reminder of how caring the shadowsinger has been with you almost brings a smile to your lips.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

Those words haven't left your mind since that night. You've never had anyone look at you with so much love in their eyes, and tell you something so bold with such conviction.

You're not sure you deserve it, and you're terrified you'll never remember him because you know this version of you can't ever be compared to the one in his memories. Even if you end up regaining your memories, it's impossible for things to truly go back to how they were. It's been too long and you've changed too much. The both of you know this.

You haven't actually talked about his or your feelings since that night, but it's clear that he still loves you, well he loves the female he once knew anyway, you're not so sure you're even that similar to her aside from your appearance. It doesn't feel fair to let him dote on you, knowing he's in love with a version of you that will never come back, knowing that, even with the fluttering of your heart, your feelings for him don't come close to his.

It makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him, how he's so dedicated to taking care of you and to restoring your memories, even trying to find the people who hurt you, while to you he's a stranger. Even if an extremely handsome stranger whose company you enjoy a lot, who makes you smile and even laugh despite the precarious circumstances you've found yourself in, who makes you believe you can get through this.

You can't deny you have a reaction to him either, every soft touch feels like lightning running through your veins, and every whisper of your name has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. Your body obviously still remembers how it feels to love him and to be loved by him in return, but the butterflies in your stomach don't even come close to the depth of his feelings for you. It's glaringly obvious that Azriel would do anything for you, even going as far as letting you stab him the very first night you met and brushing it off when you tried to apologize during this week.

Truthfully, falling for Azriel sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you don't think you'd ever feel like you deserve him.

The shadows in the room start shifting ever so slightly as if reading your thoughts - something Azriel has assured you they can't do - a sign that their singer is approaching.

You put down the book you never even started and hop down from the window sill you had been sitting on for most of the afternoon, waiting for him to knock softly at the door like he always did, letting you prepare for his arrival or deny his company if you so wished. Anticipation was buzzing at your skin the longer you waited so you opened the door for him as soon as his knuckles met the dark wood, catching him off guard with his hand raised.

You can't help but smile at his wide eyes. Surprising the feared Spymaster of the Night Court has to be a hard feat to accomplish and the fact that you just did it so effortlessly makes you revel in his expression for a moment. He offers you a small smile of his own but you can immediately tell something is holding him back.

He hasn't really given you any information about their research or the guild, simply letting you know that they were working as hard as they could on it. You knew the High Lord still had his reservations about your presence in his court so it only made sense for them to keep their cards close to their chest until they knew more about the situation. You suppose he also wanted to see if any of the leads you gave Azriel on the guild actually turned out to be helpful, a last test to see if you were being truthful.

So you wouldn't be surprised that the Inner Circle had a meeting among themselves before bringing you in, one it seems like Azriel just came from, but his expression is making your anticipation steadily turn into nerves.

“Are you ready?”

Even with the lump that has lodged itself in your throat, you nod and try to give him a pleasant smile. You've been waiting for answers and you're finally going to get them, even if it feels like your heart is threatening to give out.

You quickly turn back into the room to slip on your shoes, before looping your arm around the one he offers, ever the gentlemale. He guides you through the painting covered hallways, most of which you haven't walked through before.

As you approach the room your nerves get the best of you. There are a lot more people in the office than you thought there'd be, you can hear their mismatched heartbeats from here, feel their suffocating presences. One you can distinctively recognize is the General's, it reminds you of his reaction in the dining room, how it seemed to hurt him just looking at you.

You didn't think the entire Inner Circle would be in attendance, figured that it would only be the ancient one, the High Lord and Lady aside from you and Azriel. You'll likely have to reveal more about yourself than you'd be comfortable with in any other situation, including things you're not proud of, things you know they'll judge you for, they'll judge the female they once knew for.

Azriel noticed your body tensing, your steps getting slower and the apprehension rolling off you in waves as your thoughts soured. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, meeting your unfocused eyes.

Seeing the worried look on his face makes you take a deeper breath, willing your mind to focus on what's important right now and let your fears stay locked inside you. Thinking of it as another mission the guild sent you on, you've put your life on the line numerous times, you can get through a simple meeting.

You feel a familiar mask of indifference fall onto your face, the mask of a killer the guild made sure you wore almost every day of your life, but before you can rid your mind of emotion, Azriel grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and bringing it up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss on your skin, one that sends chills down your spine, though it's the look in his eyes that makes you stop.

You're not alone. For the first time in your life, at least in the life you remember, you're not alone. He's going to be next to you for every step of the way. You don't need to resort to assassin tactics. The blank mask was something you didn't have a choice but to use, to protect yourself from the things you'd seen, from the things you feel. But here you're allowed to delve into your emotions, to stay true to them.

Azriel gives you a small smile and lowers your hand away from his lips, proud of whatever determination showed on your face. He lets go of you, making you feel the absence of his warmth immediately, fingers twitching as if trying to reach out to his comfort on their own.

As soon as you walk into the room all eyes turn to you. You had been right to assume everyone was here. You let your eyes wander around the room briefly, noting the familiar and new faces, before settling back on Rhysand's, the reminder of the excruciating pain you've felt the last time you saw him an obvious weight on your mind.

You'd seen them all before except for the blonde sitting on the sofa by the window, her brown eyes were wide, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. You know that was Morrigan, the High Lord's cousin, and from what Azriel has told you, one of your once closest friends. Apparently she'd tried to come talk to you but it so happened to be on the day after you went down for breakfast and you denied it without a second thought when Azriel brough the option up. You wonder if that had been too harsh but you weren't sure you could handle a repeat of the Cassian situation.

Feyre and Morrigan are the only ones who attempt to throw a greeting smile your way but you can't bring yourself to respond, acutely aware of the tension in the air, eyes never straying from the High Lord's. Choosing to focus on the elephant in the room.

“I trust your stay has been enjoyable,” Rhysand muses as he points to the chair across from his desk, urging you to sit as if this were a simple business meeting. As ridiculous as the idea sounds, it does something to loosen your muscles and the snort that escapes Cassian lifts some of the tension.

“Yes, the House has been making sure of it,” you sit on the chair across from his desk, not daring to look away from him and the High Lady. He releases a simple hum at the answer, but you're too anxious for small talk. “Have you found a way to get my memories back?”

“In a way,” he offers, leaving you with more questions.

Thankfully, Amren fills up the silence in his place. “The spell suppressing your memories is the work of witches. Daemati can enter anyone's mind and make them forget certain memories but if someone had simply rewritten your memories then Rhys would have been able to fix them.”

“Witches?” The thought was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Witches use tools to strengthen their powers, to access magic they aren't privy to,” she continues, “It seems someone used a witch's tool to feign daemati powers and rewrite your memories, effectively warding them as well.”

“That's why you had such a strong reaction when I entered your mind.”

You were positive this had to be the work of a daemati. It had never crossed your mind that there could be something else at play.

“You can't undo the spell,” you conclude for them.

Witches have a completely different approach to magic than faeries. While your kind was gifted their magic by the Mother, witches have to resort to the kind of tools Amren mentioned. The resulting magic isn't organic and as such it comes with rules and drawbacks you don't experience as fae.

“We'll need to find the person responsible for it. They're the only one who can tell us exactly how to undo it,” Feyre says.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling with the information. You only have one suspect and the thought of not only finding him but also making him talk sounds beyond ridiculous. He also hasn't shown any hint that he could use witch magic. As far as you know he's as much high fae as you are, but you can never be too certain when it comes to one the best assassins in the world.

“Azriel says you can only identify one member of the guild,” the High Lord continues, barely giving you any time to process.

You nod. “I had direct contact with a few other assassins when I was called for backup but never knew their names or even what some of them look like without disguises.”

“Our only option is finding your handler, but Azriel hasn't been able to find any tracks even with the information you've given him,” Feyre stands closer to the desk now, her hand leaning on the dark wood.

“I'm not surprised. Norris is one of the most prominent members of the guild, I'm not sure how old he is exactly but I suspect he's been working there for close to a millenia.”

“Azriel is extremely good at his job,” Rhysand tilts his head slightly, as if offended for his Spymaster.

“I know.” From the briefings he's given you, he has spies all over the world aside from his shadows, who can listen and see things fae could never begin to imagine. Even with your hints, he's come closer to the guild in a week than entire countries have in decades, perhaps even centuries. “But we've been trained to kill and hide from people like him, like you. And Norris has been doing that successfully for a very long time.”

“We…” He taps his nails on the table, the sound echoing across the room. “So you're an assassin then,” the distaste clear on the High Lord's face.

You hadn't said the words out loud but everyone had probably guessed it the moment you walked back into their lives. The guild has made a name for themselves, and as much as some of your work consisted of spying or retrieving objects, most people came to the guild for mercenary jobs.

“Yes,” you confirm, forcing yourself to keep up the eye contact.

“An interesting career choice,” he muses, as if you had the pleasure of just choosing to become this monster.

The several pairs of eyes watching you intently were making you feel defensive, your temper rising up with it. It's easy to judge someone looking in from the outside. You'd been an assassin or training to become one ever since you could remember, which in reality wasn't your whole life like you thought before. Still, whether it was because you'd been taken in by the guild as a child or had your memories rewritten, you were thrown into it against your will and had since been stuck with no chance of an escape. Everyone has done things they're not proud of and you know fae in such important positions as these and as old as they are can definitely relate to this sentiment.

You weren't proud of it, far from it, but you didn't have a choice. And it's not your fault the female they knew before wouldn't do these things. It's not your fault that innocence and chance at being better she had were ripped away from you.

“Not everyone has the luxury of getting a court handed to them,” the venom drips out of your tongue, every word meant as a weapon.

You know this is a low blow, being aware of the circumstances in which Rhysand became High Lord, how he lost his whole family in one night. But if he wants cruelty, the assassin he keeps judging, you can certainly give it to them. Your bravado lessens when you feel the sharp intake of breaths around the room, most notably from the Illyrian by your side, where he still stands despite how tense his posture has become.

Rhysand's wings tighten against his body and his eyes narrow, finally letting go of the faux relaxed look he's presented you with. He takes a moment to answer you, likely leveling his temper or receiving soothing words from his mate.

“There was a time you wouldn't even dare to hurt an innocent.” This statement lacks the same bite as before, it gives way to disappointment, and it feels like a bucket of ice poured over molting lava. It cuts deeper than any amount of judgment he could have presented you with.

You straighten yourself in the chair, trying to not let it show how much this whole conversation is affecting you. “Well,” you lick your lip, now realizing how dry your mouth felt, “The only thing left from before is my body.”

His violet gaze finally becomes too much for you to bear, allowing yourself the respite of looking down at your hands. There are too many emotions swirling in his alluring eyes, even more felt around the room, the tension has become so thick you could barely breathe, couldn't even risk a look at Azriel in fear of what you'd find written on his face, terrified that the same disappointment lingered there as well.

“It's not,” the change in tone has you looking back up at him, meeting his gaze once more to find understanding reflected on it. And I can only imagine how you've been surviving through it all.

His echoing words make you pause, not being able to look away from him. It's only when wetness gathers in your eyes that you look back down, praying the room of perceptive fae don't notice how close you are to tears. You don't even remember the last time you cried, the last time someone extended you the kindness Rhysand just did, even after all the judgment.

Shadows start crawling up your legs, tentatively moving towards you as if asking permission to comfort you. You bite back a smile, keeping your tears at bay as you wonder if they moved of their own accord or if Azriel sent them to you. You relax your body, allowing them to twist and turn over your legs, mildly surprised that you can actually feel a ghost of a touch. You didn't think you could feel shadows.

You risk a glance at the shadowsinger in question, almost regretting it as you see the fondness reflected in his beautiful eyes as he watches his own shadows move across your skin. This must have been a regular occurrence before. You look away as soon as your gazes meet, not being able to bear the intensity in them in this room full of onlookers.

Unfortunately, your escape brings you back to facing the High Lord and Lady, who seem more than amused at your interaction with Azriel. The change in atmosphere from just a few moments ago almost gives you whiplash.

“You haven't told me what you plan on doing about the guild,” you try to keep your tone leveled, but looking at their reactions you're failing miserably.

“Finding your handler seems to be our best bet,” the smile on Feyre's face only falters a bit, the tension from before has almost dissipated. “Since he's the one who sent you here he might know who hired the guild and their motives for wanting the book.”

“You said he was the one who introduced you into the guild.” You nod at Rhysand. “It's possible he's the one responsible for your… accident.”

“I think so too,” you agreed, your hand moving up to touch the scar on your neck, “I've always been told this scar was the result of a failed mission, and that Norris had been the one to find me and take me to a healer.”

“We found the attackers not long after your death,” the general finally speaks up, cringing softly at the choice of word. His mate was quick to narrow her eyes at him, as if reprimanding him for mentioning it.

“He might not have actually cut my throat,” you shrug, trying not to linger in unpleasant thoughts. “He likely saw me after the attack and decided I'd make a good addition to the guild if I survived. I'm basically a ghost, that's perfect for an agent. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done similar things before.”

“Either way, we need to find him.”

“Even if we do, I'm not sure he'll actually tell you anything.” Norris was one of the most respected members of the guild. His abilities far surpassed yours, he'd been the one to teach you most things after all. You've never been able to even sneak up on him so finding and capturing him alive already seemed hard enough, but making him cooperate and answer any of your questions was next to impossible. The Mother only knows how many fae have tried it and failed.

“He will,” Azriel stated. When you look into his eyes you can only see pure fury and determination written in them, leaving no space for any doubts. He stares into your eyes before adding, promising, “l'll make sure of it.”

Some of that confidence rubs off on you it seems, because your hesitation starts evaporating the longer you stare into his eyes. You've always been on your own, and as such you've only ever considered how you'd fare against your handler without backup. Between the famed Shadowsinger, the strongest High Lord in history, the Made Sisters, and everyone else in this room, your chances were exponentially higher. Escaping the guild doesn't feel like a pipe dream anymore.

“How do you want to find him?”

The High Lord rewards your determination with a smirk. “The only way to find someone like him is by making him search for us instead.”

“You want to use me as bait,”

“You can refuse,” Azriel assured. This explains his sour mood. You didn't think he'd agreed with this solution with the way he's been treating you so carefully, almost as if you're made of glass. You can't exactly fault him for it either, but the truth is you can't refuse. You don't know if you could ever find Norris with traditional tactics, or if the guild wouldn't send more assassins to the city, if they hadn't already.

“And keep living like this? Hiding without even knowing who I am?”

He searches your eyes, fear and vulnerability swimming in the hazel, but nods all the same. He told you he's dreamed of getting you back for a century, and thought it was something that would never come true, so it makes sense that he'd be hesitant on letting you put yourself in such a risky position. You know he understands why you need this though.

The meeting runs for a while longer, and by the time Rhysand was calling it a day the sun was already setting on the horizon, making way for the night to take over in all its glory, one that could only be fully appreciated in the Night Court.

As much as everyone seems to be warming up to you, letting go of the conflicted feelings towards having you back in these circumstances, you were extremely overwhelmed by the end. Talking to someone who knows you so intimately even though you don't have any recollection of it is a confusing experience. You could almost hear your mind screaming at you, begging for some peace and quiet.

The contrast between the Inner Circle and Azriel becomes clear in your mind. Your relationships were very different before but it's interesting to see that even when you don't have your memories, you feel so much calmer with him. That nagging feeling of being faced with something you've lost keeps rising up when they speak to you, but it doesn't come anywhere close to the myriad of emotions Azriel evokes simply by looking at you. And even if those emotions are more intense, you have a much bigger tolerance for them, as if your body would gladly accept any turmoil as long as you stayed in his company.

Just as you were about to leave the room, Rhysand invites you to join them for dinner. Everyone turns to you with expectant eyes before the words fully leave his mouth. They clearly planned it out together. This habit they have of speaking through each other's minds is one it might take a while getting used to.

You bite your lip, as you think of what to say. Cassian and Morrigan look particularly keen on the idea, it makes you feel a little relieved that the general isn't looking at you like a nightmare came true anymore, but you really don't think you can handle any more questions today, or to have them reminisce about your former relationships. You're not used to spending time with a lot of people in general, you'd go months without any sort of fae contact sometimes. You just want to go somewhere quiet, and you can only think of one person whose company would allow you to relax.

Making up your mind, you decline the invitation politely, trying to ignore the disappointment in their eyes as they bid you goodnight. This still feels like a huge improvement from where you stood with them just at the beginning of the meeting, that they'd want to keep you company when it felt like they were avoiding you this whole week. You might have gained some of their trust, and, to your immense shock, you trust them as well. It feels like a breath of fresh air after a century of not even trusting your shadow.

Maybe it's that feeling, or the immediate quiet that settles over you as soon as you walk into the empty hallway, maybe even the fact that you finally got some answers and even a plan, a chance at leaving the guild, something you never even dared to dream about, but it has you feeling a little indulgent. Your steps are noticeably lighter, and all the tension from before is now only a faint ache in your muscles.

“Azriel?” You look up at him with a smile, feeling it widen when he looks at you in answer. “Since I'm out of the room, can we go somewhere to watch the stars?”

The smile that takes over his face is blinding, it feels like it could rival the moon. It's fascinating how his beauty can still catch you off guard like this, even if you've been spending most of your time with him for an entire week.

“Of course,” he moves closer to you and takes your hand, pulling you into him, his eyes never straying from yours. It takes you longer than it should have to realize he was covering you both in shadows, too lost in his eyes to pay attention to your surroundings, how they've turned to black. He told you before that's how he winnows, though it can't be called that since he moves through shadows instead.

The light almost blinds you as his shadows disperse, giving way to a view you can't believe is real. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, stuck in the brief moments of twilight where you could still see the last rays of the sun illuminating the dark blue sky. And yet the stars were already twinkling in the sky, surrounding the full moon.

You can't help but gasp, forgetting about Azriel and moving to the edge of the roof, admiring the unforgettable view. Your eyes don't stray from it as you lean against the railing, long enough that the sun completely sets, and the streets become illuminated by faelights.

You had thought there was some sort of celebration when you first came here, but have since learned that every night is enjoyed to its fullest in the city of dreamers.

As some of your awe settles, you turn to look at Azriel as he too admires the city. His shadows had left him uncovered, choosing to scatter around what you now recognize as a training ground. You almost regret staring up at the sky for so long when you could have been reveling in his beauty this whole time.

His tan skin was glowing with the pale moonlight, eyes as bright as the stars when he looks down at you. You move closer to him almost unconsciously, as if you've been bewitched.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you sound breathless even to your ears. “The view is a lot more beautiful from up here.” Your bedroom window could never do this justice. If you looked up, it almost felt like you were walking on air, among the stars.

He turns to you fully, ignoring the captivating sight in favor of watching you. His face relaxes further as he takes you in, the smile on his lips growing and the air around you changing. He raises his scarred palm up to cup your face, whispering softly, “It can't ever compare to you.”

“That's cheesy,” you stutter, clearly taken aback by the sudden flirtatious tone.

He grins down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the increasingly warmer skin of your cheek. “You're blushing.”

Azriel has been open with his feelings for you all week, making it clear that they haven't changed over the years, even with your absence from his life, but he has never been this brazen. None of the interactions you've had can be considered anything else than platonic, and even with sweet compliments and bashful admissions, he has never looked at you like this, like he truly believed just one second of looking at you was worth more than this unbelievable view.

“You know,” you start hesitantly, “We haven't actually tried everything.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch up to your train of thought. You can feel when he does because he tenses against you, and would have let go of your face if you hadn't placed your hand around his wrist, keeping him there.

“I think I've read it in a story before,” you lick your lips, feeling like lava is pumping through your veins when his eyes follow the movement, “Sometimes a kiss can be stronger than any magic spell.”

He leans closer to you slowly, looking into your eyes to search for any sign of discomfort. You can't be entirely sure what he finds in them, you can't feel much else but desire in this moment, but it has him clearing the rest of the way, both of your eyes closing as his lips finally touch yours softly.

A sigh escapes him when you press into him harder, needing to find out what he tastes like, what he feels like. His other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, holding you against him. You can feel him losing his restraint bit by bit, hands moving from your face to hold your neck, your waist, grip getting tighter with every stroke of his tongue against yours, a century of longing and raw passion melting into the kiss. Your own arms find their way around his neck, pulling him down, finally feeling the softness of his hair around your fingers. His chest is pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

When you finally pull away from each other, you're both breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wonder how many times he's dreamed of this moment, of being able to taste you again after so long.

“Any memories resurfacing?” His voice is rough, deeper than you've ever heard it. It almost makes you hold back a moan.

“No,” you lick your lips, reveling in his taste, “but we can give it another try.”

His lips find yours as soon as the last words leave your mouth, more than happy to deliver. You might chastise yourself for giving in to temptation tomorrow, but in this moment nothing else matters. Not the guild, not your lost memories, not your mistakes. Right now there's only him, you and the stars as your witnesses.

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx @that-one-little-soybean @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @saltedcoffeescotch @astarlitsoul @bwormie @just-a-social-casualty-1 @sundayysunshine

(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled.)

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #divider by saradika

481 notes · View notes

vmpiires · 1 month

Text

﹆₊ 中毒‧₊˚ ADDICTED TO YOU, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ touch starved for 150 years. wc, 1.31K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i got this idea from a comic strip i saw on twitter by one of my fav chosoyuki ship artists. the second i saw it i knew i had to get on here and type something up. (also i finally figured out how to change the font colors by myself). hope ya enjoyyyyy. reblog to support meeee

␥ tags. modern AU [still a curse], female anatomy, fluff, no smut, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

it's been three years since you and choso started dating, but you still can't get enough of the way he reacts to your touch. whenever your soft hands brush against his body, you notice him tensing up involuntarily—almost as if it's a reflex. these small, shy gestures from him make you feel incredibly special as you know that it means he trusts you and is comfortable around you. you adore the fact that he still gets flustered around you, even after all this time.

upon your first encounter with choso, you couldn't help but notice his quiet demeanor. it became quite evident that he wasn't much of a talker, and as a result, he often found himself feeling isolated in public areas. except for his conversations with his brother, itadori, there were only one or two other individuals with whom choso conversed. this lack of social interaction left him quite lonely, and it was evident that he struggled to form connections with others.

it was quite apparent that you showed a genuine interest in him from the very beginning. despite being attractive, he always seemed to blend in with the crowd and go unnoticed. it was as if his presence never made any significant impact on anyone.

however, your keen eye picked up on his unique qualities and personality, which made him stand out amongst the rest. he was grateful for your attention, and it was evident that he appreciated it deeply. your interest in him not only boosted his confidence but also gave him a sense of purpose and belonging.

as you approached choso, he flinched and tensed up, clearly caught off guard by your sudden proximity. it was evident that he was not used to being touched outside of battle. however, as you placed your hands on his body, he visibly blushed, his cheeks redder than ever before. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. for the first time in 150 years, someone had dared to touch him outside of battle, and he was clearly taken aback by the unexpected physical contact.

choso found the entire incident quite peculiar and perplexing. it has been quite some time since that day, yet he can still vividly recall the exact spot where you placed your hand—right on his shoulder. the sensation lingers, almost as if the touch had left a mark deep within him. despite his best efforts, he is unable to shake off the feeling of unease that has settled within him ever since.

your touch is something that he would never forget, and if he said he didn't enjoy it, he'd be lying. you had an undeniable ability to leave a lasting impression on him.

you were working on an important project and stayed up until the early hours of the morning. as the clock struck four, you found yourself lying on the floor next to choso's futon. he was sleeping peacefully, his hair fanned out over the pillow beneath him.

your sleep was restless, and you moved around a lot, which could be quite annoying to others. though, choso didn't seem to mind too much, at least not tonight. suddenly, you accidentally hit the back of his head with your elbow, causing him to wake up abruptly. he looked at you with a stern expression, his lips pursed tightly together as he tried to regain his composure.

choso observed you as you slept and wondered why you hadn't been working on your project that was due soon. his eyelids narrowed into slits, and he rolled his eyes in frustration. he couldn't understand how someone could waste valuable time like this when there was important work to be done.

"hey," choso called your name. "wake-"

before choso could reprimand you for falling asleep, he could feel your arms slide underneath his and wrap around his torso, just beneath his chest. your warm breath against his neck was oddly comforting. choso lay on his futon, flustered and surprised as your grip grew tighter around his body.

the sensation that he was experiencing was completely new to him. it reminded him of the first time you had touched him gently on the shoulder. he let out a deep sigh and turned over, his face sinking slowly into the softness of his pillow. the feeling lingered, and he couldn't help but wonder what it meant. he wasn't sure if it was a sign of something new and exciting, or if it was something to be worried about. the uncertainty weighed heavily on his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

sunlight beamed brightly through the bedroom as morning approached. an alarm from your phone could be heard before instantly shutting it off. while you were sprawled out over the futon, choso was pressed up against you, his arms loosely wrapped around your body and his head buried into the crook of your neck.

as the sunlight filtered through the windows, both of you groaned in unison, your eyes squinting to shield themselves from the bright light in the bedroom. you exchanged a brief glance before you shot up from the bed, stretching your arms and letting out a loud yawn. the warmth of the sun's rays seemed to be beckoning you to start the day.

you found yourself rousing from a sudden nap, feeling disoriented and a bit groggy. you rubbed the tiredness from your eyes, trying to regain your bearings, when you noticed choso sitting beside you, his head propped up with his elbow against the pillow. it seemed that you had blacked out without realizing it.

"damn, i wasn't planning on falling asleep. i didn't even realize i went to sleep until now." you yawn again, holding your hand over your mouth to suppress how loud it is. "how come you didn't wake me up?"

as you locked eyes with him for the second time that morning, he couldn't help but feel a sudden rush of memories from the previous night flooding his mind. his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he relived those moments in his head, but those feelings quickly dissipated when he forcefully broke contact with you. he rolled his eyes, perhaps trying to shake off that awkwardness and bring himself back to the present moment.

"i was asleep, how could i wake you up?" choso replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "and how did you end up next to my futon?"

as you sat beside the futon next to choso, you couldn't help but notice his attempts to seem annoyed with your behavior. though, as the night wore on, it became clear that he was struggling to stay awake. eventually, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep, his bare torso exposed to the cool air of the room. seeing him shiver, you gently pulled the sheets over him, tucking him in with care. he had been hugging his own body to keep warm.

"don't know...i was so bored that i didn't know what to do with myself," you replied as you finally stood up, giving yourself another good stretch and kissing choso on his head, gently tugging his jet black locks as you did.

the experience of being hugged after a prolonged period of 150 years was a truly transformative one for him. the male had initially feigned irritation at you succumbing to your sleepiness and falling asleep, but in truth, he was struggling to contain his desire to prolong the embrace.

it wasn't because he was trying to be helpful or responsible in any way, but rather because he simply wanted to bask in the warmth and comfort of the embrace for just a little bit longer. the sensation of having his body hugged after such a long time had shifted his perspective on many things, leaving him feeling a sense of awe and wonder at the power of human connection.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

527 notes · View notes

simpingland · 9 months

Text

The rumors// Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader.

Requ: May I request a piece with Aemond x Blackwood!Reader? Was thinking that the oldest daughter of the Blackwoods gets betrothed to Aemond in order for the Greens to gain their support, Aemond is not ecstatic about it but he finds that lady Blackwood is fascinating person, very intelligent and very much..like him.So of course he slowly falls for her and in spite of her cold/sarcastic demeanour she truly sees Aemond for who he is and falls for him at first glance (but of course he doesn't have to know that:).

Summary: Aemond is forced to marry a woman he was more than happy to ignore. But her sarcasm, brain skills and a knee injury makes him feel a bit too passionate for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your father had quickly changed his colors as soon as the largest dragon in existence landed on the mountain closest to his castle. Of course, Aemond showed no threat; he knew he had to get an army that was willing to defend Aegon, not hate him. So he passively aggressively asked for the army of Lord Samwell Blackwood, who ruled a considerable part of the Riverlands, in exchange for something else. And of course, the lord had you, a daughter of appropriate age, hard to marry and smart enough to know how to grow the Blackwood power at court. So he asked for a marriage. You could see the Prince let out a sigh from your hiding place, but he agreed. It was a conscious decision that you found yourself "indisposed" in the days leading up to your wedding. In these, you spent your time wandering the corridors in the shadows, following the Prince at a distance and meeting the women with reliable sources who told you what Aemond Targaryen was like. Best of all, you knew he knew nothing of you. That was an advantage.

The wedding was rushed, held in your own home, making it clear to the Tullys and Bracken that their support for Aegon was expected. If they did not support your House, you were likely to be the victim of a mysterious death, and the Brackens would be happy with the news, but the Tullys would not. You were dressed in red, the black was entirely removed from your dress, and your jewels and veil silvered. Under the veil you could see him watching you with that blue eye, and when he withdrew it, you could see an indecipherable change in his face. Whether he was happy or not didn't matter to you, because he was surprised, and that was interesting. You exchanged vows, touching his hand for the first time, as cold as you expected, and he could hear your voice. He only looked away when you looked at him, but the rest of the time you were sure he was following you. He kissed your hand courteously at the end of the ceremony.

"Does your wine not please you, my lady?" His voice surprised you, his gaze resting on your glass, still full.

"It pleases me as much as it surely pleases you, my Prince," you replied. He hadn't had a drop either.

"I'm tryingto keep a clear mind."

"Some men drink their fill precisely to clear their heads. Besides, you shouldn't be nervous, I'll tell you which hole is the right one."

The sly grin that appeared on your face made him clench his jaw in frustration. Perhaps, a dragon rider, such a fearful prince, would react with fists and shouts at the taunt. But Aemond decided to pick up his goblet and take a good swallow.

"It's going to be a long night, I'm afraid," he said it as a kind of threat, but to you it sounded as if it was more of a nightmare.

And he stared at his failure to scare you, as you continued to eat with glee.

The bedding was not public thanks to your father, but you did spend the night with Aemond. He was reluctant to undress, so neither did you. He sat in front of the fire in your room while you watched Vhagar from your balcony.

"Are you going to force me to ride on the dragon to King's Landing?" You asked without turning around.

"If you prefer, go on horseback. But by the time you reach the castle I will have marched off to war." He sounded serious.

"It doesn't sound as bad as you think it does."

You heard him rise from the chair, and then you were a little afraid. He walked quickly towards you, placing his face inches from yours, his hands grasping and squeezing your arms.

"Then you will enjoy an extremely lonely time, my dear. No one will know who you are and neither they would want to find out. And if I die in battle, with no heirs, no one will ever care for you. They'll send you back here and you'll become old and a burden. And if we lose the war, there will be no one to protect you." His soft voice spoke calmly despite the venom they gave off.

"I never said I didn't want to ride in Vhagar, my Prince." Your reassurance surprised him, as did your hands resting on his chest gently. "I'd rather ride and stay there with you...I'm sure it's much more fun."

And without further ado, you turned away and set about sleeping, or pretending to. Aemond never got to lie in bed with you. But soon he would, you needed time. The flight to King's Landing was quick, in silence and quite impressive. Clinging more to the chair than to Aemond, you didn't tell him how impressed you were with the sensation. He didn't want to ask you any questions, but looked at you in search for something to make him feel satisfied, but it was hard to impress you. When you landed, he helped you off the beast and you decided not to let go of his hand. And so the Dowager Queen Alicent saw you.

"Did you enjoy your flight?" she asked politely.

"The truth is, yes. Now I understand why children are willing to lose precious things in exchange for flying with them..." they both looked at you quizzically. Of course, the source of the loss of Aemond's eye was just a rumour, a rumour you had heard. You smiled, noting the tension in both of them. "Like little Ronnel Arryn when Visenya asked him to surrender."

Your explanation was enough for Alicent, but Aemond could tell it was a trick answer, that you had someone else in mind. And when you reached your chambers, the one you would share for the rest of your lives, Aemond did not hesitate to corner you against the wall in one of his graceful moves. His hands rested on your cheeks, squeezing hard enough to keep you quiet and your gaze locked with his.

"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I don't like a single tone in your voice." His voice was laden with anger, anger at not knowing. "You think by smiling at the end of every sentence people forget how irritating you are."

"You barely know me..." you tried to say with his fingers so tightly pressed to your face. "But I'm glad to see I was right to bet that I was going to have a good time with you."

"I'm not a buffoon." His face was so close to yours that you had to turn your own away.

"I know better, my Prince. With that hair and that dragon there is no doubt about it. It must bother you that there are people in the kingdom who don't see Jacaerys and Lucerys for what they really are...mustn't it?"

His hand loosened slightly, and Aemond seemed to calm down. He waited for you to draw another smirk again, watching your lips slowly. But that smile did not come, for you knew you had hit the nail on the head. Your bad luck was that Aemond was almost as smart as you, and only trusted you for those brief seconds. Then he squeezed your face again before releasing it abruptly.

Even though Aemond was constantly wandering, Helaena was the best company. She was the one who explained to you everything that was really going on in that castle, even though it was hard to understand her. Her words were never clear, and she got lost in the middle of conversations. What reassured you most was that Aemond was a tender brother, caring for the children Aegon had neglected from the beginning. And if Aemond was patient with a girl like Helaena, it indicated that there must be something good in the prince everyone feared. Now all that remained was to keep him more than a few minutes at your side.

Then came the opportunity to visit Oldtown, to meet Daeron and make sure that the Hightower would support the Greens and how good that support was. On this dragon ride, you decided to put your hands on his waist, consciously moving them all over his abdomen, trying to unnerve him. And at your attempts, Aemond commanded Vhagar to fly in a brute and exaggerated way. A bad idea, for although she managed to scare you, the dragon was very old and hurt herself, brushing against the mountains as you passed Horn Hill. Had they been higher, you would have been killed, but Aemond controlled the situation before it got worse, and the fall only resulted in a rough landing in the mountains.

"Why did you do that?" you shouted as soon as you saw that Aemond was still alive, a few metres away. He was able to get up and approach you, putting on the patch before you could see him without it. "We could have died!"

"You were the one triying to to piss me off!" You were still lying on the ground, your leg felt sore, and you didn't want to move it.

"Is that why you asked Vhagar to shake himself in the air?" You were indignant, somewhat flattered, but mostly indignant.

"You were trying to distract me!" he justified himself, looking down at you from above.

"You should have told me to stop!"

"And would you have stopped?"

He watched as you fell silent. Obviously you wouldn't have, you would have ended up finding some other way to irritate him. Then Aemond offered you a hand to help you up, and you took it. But a pain in your leg made you grunt and fall back down. It was sharp, but not exaggerated. Aemond bent down to check your wound, and without any embarrassment, lifted your skirt.

"Wow, you can do that and I can't hold on to your chest?" Even in pain, you still laughed at him. And Aemond's gaze commanded you to shut up.

His hands gently touched your knee, and the pain returned. You saw Aemond quickly pull his hands away and cover you again.

"Good thing it's not broken," he said, standing up again.

"What a joy... Now you're just going to leave me lying here?"

With another deep sigh of his own, he lifted you up without difficulty, careful not to move your knee too much. And it took you a while to mount Vhagar again.

This time you would not be behind, but in front of Aemond, both legs to one side, and Aemond's arms as a barrier. He placed your hands firmly on the collar of his coat and your legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his. Your face was basically buried in his neck and his scent clouded any other scent.

"Don't move" he whispered in your ear. And you didn't, also, you didn't wanted to. The rest of the flight was quiet and pleasant, and you could watch Aemond's face as much as you wished to. The arrival in Oldtown was rushed to say the least, Aemond wanted to leave you with the Maesters while he met with the more important lords.

"But I want to be present," you demanded, still in his arms.

"Your leg must be checked," he justified.

"I want to know everything, I refuse to have made this journey to stay locked up in my room.

"You simply can't."

He spoke to you as if you were stupid, but when you grabbed his coat tightly, you surprised him with your change of tone.

"Take me with you right now, Aemond, or I swear you will lose the support of the Rivelands with one word from me."

He could barely attend to the meeting, seeing you sitting with dignity in the chair, attentive to the words of the lords and maesters, and disguising the pain in your leg. He felt rather guilty, for besides, Aemond had gained nothing, for you continued to impress everyone who came across you. You knew by heart all the information you had received, you knew what your father was planning, and what Otto was planning. You looked like the Princess, not Aemond. And when the meeting was over, he saw you stand up with a grimace, and ran to hold you, letting you lean your full weight on him slyly.

"Now you're really going to see a Maester, wife."

"About time, this is all your fault."

He was going to argue, but as he turned he saw that smile again. Something in him melted and he knew he had to surrender to you, for he was losing that futile battle.

In the room, with your knee smeared with a medicated cream and covered with care, Aemond saw you reposition yourself on the bed, now comfortable.

"I didn't know you liked politics," Aemond said, watching you from across the room.

"I don't. But I want to survive."

"You don't trust us to win this war?"

"I trust nothing, ever. You have to be prepared for anything."

"I agree," he moved closer to the bed. He brushed your sore knee gently. "Does that mean you'll never trust me?"

"For starters, you tried to shake me off your dragon."

Aemond's gaze softened, moving his hand away from your knee but sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry. You made me nervous."

"And to continue," you interrupted him, "you won't let me get to know you. And I remind you that you are now my husband."

"I've never met a woman who wants to be so involved with her husband's affairs." He smiled slightly, wryly.

"That's because you don't know many women...as the rumours say."

"The rumours?" you nodded. "Do you listen to the rumours?"

"No, I just listen and wait. You'd be surprised how many times I've seen them confirmed. Just now was one of them."

"You think I haven't been with a lot of women?" Aemond slowly bent down to close the distance, and his breath circled over your face. You had to hide your nervousness, for he didn't seem angry this time.

"You don't like my touch... But I assumed it was because I am little more than a stranger to you. I do not think you a virgin, but I know you have loved few women. If you ever have..." His weight began to fall on top of you, covering you with his body.

"And what else do the rumours say?"

"That your eye is replaced with a diamond. Though I've also heard that it's empty dark, and that's why you cover it."

His lips landed on your neck, where he left you a soft kiss.

"And what do you think I'm wearing?" His voice sounded husky and you felt its vibration.

"I've seen your books, many of history, and many of gemstones, an incredible boring reading... But not to look like a diamond man." You turned your face to him, forcing him to look at you, and saw his blue eye with the pupil dilated, glittering. "It's a stone, but not a diamond."

"And what stone do you think it is, wife?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking more about other things. And I have little interest in what's behind a patch. You covered your eye for a reason and I will respect that."

He seemed surprised, your tone was, for the first time, serious and cutting. And he liked that better than he expected.

"Everything I've heard about you is that you were a hard woman to marry."

"That's because no one delivered what I asked for. I have not been so obedient to my father's orders when offering my hand to a random lord."

"And what is it you ask, my lady?"

"I am no longer a lady."

"True, my princess." He couldn't help but smile when he saw the pride appear on your face.

"What I ask, my prince...is that my marriage will bring change to House Blackwood. It is because of us that The Riverland is so powerful. And the Tullys and Brackens get all the credit. We were kings once. And we can be kings again. Just one dragon can be incredible powerfull."

Aemond stroked your hair, then your lips with his thumb. You let your husband touch you tenderly for the first time. You caressed that face too, and Aemond kissed your fingers.

"I find it hard to believe that my wife seems tailor-made for me," he said at last. "We may die as Princes, but I swear to you our children will be kings."

"But that requires some irritating and distracting...Touches."

"I will have to make the sacrifice then of-" Aemond tried to joke, but you cut him off, kissing him at last on those lips.

They were warmer than you had expected, perhaps, in the comfort of the bed, with the lust stirring and the fantasy of creating a family, Aemond's body had been comforted by the feel of yours so close. And he fell surrendered in your arms, eagerly receiving and sharing that kiss that ended in something much bigger. That day, without rumours, without theories, you got to know Aemond completely, as a prince, as a husband, as a lover, as a man. He was all your, as you were all his, maybe, and just maybe, because he trusted you as much as you trusted him.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye

1K notes · View notes

koifsssh · 10 months

Text

The Greaser Au!

(oh goodie! it's here!)

bwah, where to start?

long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)

Wally! I'll start with Wally!

As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)

Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)

Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!

At least, that what he believes anyway!

Speaking of a certain beagle...

Barnaby!

Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)

it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)

Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.

Julie!

Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.

Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!

Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!

Frank!

Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!

It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...

how mortifying.

However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!

Sally!

Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!

Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!

They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!

When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"

She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!

---

whew! im done!

(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)

im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!

I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)

Poppy's Diner!

additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!

2K notes · View notes

kaleldobrev · 9 months

Text

Mutual Pining

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you are in love with each other, and it's obvious to everyone but the two of you

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Cursing (10x), Mutual Pining, Fluff

Authors Note: Switches between reader and Deans “POV” but still written in the third person | This came out a lot longer than I thought, but I loved the way it turned out! I hope you guys do too! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

For as long as you’ve known Dean, he has always been incredibly nice to you, which initially surprised you given his gruff exterior. Growing up, you were always told to never judge a book by its cover, and things aren’t always what they seem to be; and you had felt that this truly applied to Dean. Despite his appearance (although a very attractive one you had to admit) and his very I don’t give a fuck attitude he sometimes gave off, he was genuinely one of the nicest, funniest, charismatic, loving, and selfless people that you have ever met in your entire life. He was just someone that wanted more than anything to love someone (to be loved by someone) – and craved touch.

He was a catch in all senses of the word: he was smart, sexy, cute, he could sing (well not good, but at least he liked doing karaoke!), he could cook and bake (you were teaching him a lot about baking lately, even though he did already know a thing or two), he was handy (both when it came to cars and household maintenance), and he was a nerd (Star Wars, horror movies, Star Trek, cartoons, you name it). For as long as you had known him, it amazed you that someone hadn’t snatched him up yet. Well, you knew about some of these instances (Cassie or Lisa for example), but Dean seemed to be under the impression that the reason it never seemed to work out with these women is because of the job, or he would blame himself. “I just don’t think you found the right woman yet.” You had told him. This had earned you a weird look from Dean, and since then, you hadn’t given your two cents into his love life, despite being one of his closest confidants.

For as long as Dean has known you, you’ve always been incredibly nice to him; even when he knew he didn’t deserve it. When he had met you years ago, it took him by surprise to find out that you were a hunter given your exterior and extremely bubbling personality and positive energy that you radiated (he would later come to start calling you Sunshine as he considered you the light of his life in his ever so present and consistent cloudy days he called his life). “Just because you’re a hunter, doesn’t mean you have to be depressed all the time.” You had said to him. “But we’ve all witnessed and endured horrible things. Don’t know how you can still be so happy.” He had said back to you. You had simply shrugged stating, “You have your way of coping, and I have mine.” What Dean had initially thought that he hated about you (you being that Ray of Sunshine) had actually grown into something that he would love and appreciate about you.

Something that he always tended to carry in the back of his mind is quote that you had frequently said: Never judge a book by its cover, and things aren’t always what they seem to be; and he felt that your quote really did apply to you. Despite the type of energy that you give off, and despite your colorful array of clothing, you were genuinely one of the best hunters that he has ever met or worked with in his life.

You were a catch in all senses of the word. You were smart, cunning, funny, cute, sexy (even when you weren’t even remotely trying to be). You knew how to cook and bake (he was particularly fond of your peach and apple pies that you had made), you could sing (despite you saying how awful you were, your voice had sounded like honey to him), and you knew how to shoot a gun almost as good as him (in reality, you were probably a much better shot, but he would never admit that). It amazed him that you hadn’t settled down yet, even though he knew that was something that you had wanted to do at some point in your life. “I guess I just haven’t found the right yet guy. Just like how you haven’t found the right woman yet.” You had told him. “He’s sitting right in front of you Sunshine,” he had desperately wanted to say to you.

It was a lazy Sunday at the Bunker, and since there was no cases you had decided that you were going to do some baking today. You had promised Dean that you would him your famous peach and apple pie sometime this week, and since that was something you promised him last Tuesday, you were getting near close to almost falling through with your promise – something that you didn’t want to do, especially when it came to Dean.

Dean didn’t ask for much. So when he asked ever so politely if you could make this for him adding “no rush of course” at the end of his request, you were more than happy to oblige. This man has saved your ass more times than you could possibly count, and never asked for anything in return. So, the least you could do for the man was bake him a pie right?

Walking into the kitchen you were wearing your comfy clothes which consisted of a very faded AC/DC shirt that Dean had lent you they you had never given back (to be fair, he never asked for it back), a plain hot pink sweatshirt, black sweatpants and hot pink fuzzy socks.

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked over to the cabinet to grab everything they you would need in order to make the pie for Dean. Technically speaking, you were making the pie for everyone to enjoy, but you knew the second Dean for a whiff of the peachy and appley goodness, he would most likely hoard this (not that you had a problem with that, you were happy that he enjoyed your cooking and baking that much).

Placing your phone on the counter, you decided to play some music, picking the playlist you had rightfully named “Baking/Cooking Jams” (pun intended), so the quietness didn’t seem so eerie to you. You didn’t like the quiet at times, but you had such fond memories of singing along and dancing along to the music when you were a little girl in the kitchen with your mom or grandma.

One of the things that you appreciated, was the fact that none of the boys made fun of you while you did this (not that it would have bothered you if they did), but you half expected one of them to say something. The closest any of them had gotten to “making fun” of or commenting on your dance moves or singing had come from Dean, and his comments which very complimentary. You were so thrown off, that at first you thought he was fucking with you.

It’s been almost a week since Dean had requested you make your famous peach and apple pie, and there was a part of him that was starting to get just a tad disappointed when you hadn’t made it yet. But one of the things that was holding him together, was the fact that you always kept your promises and followed through with them (it was one of the things that he loved about you. He had asked for the pie on Tuesday, and it was now Sunday. He had wanted to re-ask you, but decided against it because he didn’t want to seem pushy and he didn’t want to bother you with what he seemed to be a silly request. “You could never bother her Dean. Trust me.” Sam had told him numerous times.

As Dean walked down the hallway of the Bunker, he could hear the quiet sounds of your music coming from the kitchen. The only reason he knew that it was your music is because he recognized the current song that was playing as a part of “Baking/Cooking Jams” playlist (pun intended). He smiled, hoping that since you were listening to this playlist it meant that you were baking something - specifically, baking the pie that you had promised him.

Dean peaked his head into the kitchen and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him. You were bopping your head, quietly singing along, and shaking your shoulders to the music as you were lining a tin with your homemade pie crust. You were wearing your hot pink sweatshirt (something that he loved always seeing you wear) and your fuzzy socks (another thing that he secretly loved). Wonder what’s underneath. Hope it’s one of my shirts…or nothing at all…He thought to himself. No Dean, don’t think that way.

Almost as if you could read his mind (which he knew you couldn’t do and was extremely thankful that you couldn’t) you stopped your dancing and looked at him, giving him the biggest smile you could muster up. “Hey you!” Your voice sounded so cheerful, so inviting, it practically made him melt.

“Hey Sunshine.” He said, walking into the kitchen and making his way to the island. “Whatcha making?” He asked, as if he couldn’t tell from the fresh cut apples and peaches on the counter in front of him.

“Your favorite.” You smiled, alternating between placing the peaches and apples into the pie tin. “Sorry it took so long Dean.”

Your apology surprised him. “Why are you saying sorry?” He questioned; you literally had no reason to be apologizing to him right now.

“Well, I know you asked for this Tuesday and it’s Sunday now.” Your voice that was once full of joy, was now sounding almost slightly sad and embarrassed, almost as if you were disappointed in yourself. “I swear I didn’t forget. Got a bit sidetracked with research this week.” You looked down just then, finishing up with the filling.

“Hey.” He began to say and you looked up at him. “Please don’t apologize for something like that okay?” You nodded. “Need any help?”

You shook your head. “I’m good Dean. But thanks for the offer.” You said, placing the pie into the oven.

“It’ll be ready soonish.” You gave him a smile. He could sense that you were trying to go back to your joyful voice, but you seemed still slightly upset, despite you having no reason to be.

Although you said you didn’t need the help, Dean started to gather all of the dirty dishes that you had made while you were baking. “Dean, you don’t have to do that.” You said as you watched him bring all of the dishes into the sink.

He turned the faucet on and looked at you. “It’s the least I can do Y/N.”

“I would have done it.” You walked over to the sink, picking up a dish rag and started drying the dishes he was finished washing. He looked at you briefly before letting out a small chuckle. “What?”

“Sweetheart, no you wouldn’t have. You would have left the dishes in the sink and I would have come to clean them up anyway. I know you love baking and cooking, but you hate the clean up.” You had started to open your mouth to comment, but you knew what he had said to you was the truth. Yes, you didn’t mind doing dishes, but you hated doing a large amount of dishes.

“I see Y/N finally made you your pie.” Sam said, gesturing to the giant slice of pie that Dean came walking into the War Room with.

Dean walked over with the biggest smile on his face. “It’s her best one yet.” Dean said, mouth full of pie. He sat down across from Sam who was on his laptop. “I really do think the singing and dancing helps.”

“I don’t know why you just don’t tell her.” Sam said.

“She knows I like her singing and dancing.” Dean took a mouthful of pie and Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his brother.

“I mean how you feel about her.” Sam’s comment had made Dean stop chewing his pie mid bite before he gulped it down.

Dean went to open his mouth, to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything clever or snarky to say. “I’ll pass.” He decided to say.

“You’ll…pass? What does that even mean?” For as long as Sam had been around you and Dean, it seemed completely obvious to everyone that you two had feelings for each other, but for some reason, it seemed like neither of you understood that you two had feelings for each other.

“I said, I’ll pass.” Dean repeated. “What about that can’t you wrap your head around?”

“Dean, you’ve been in love with Y/N since you’ve met her. Which, honestly, is quite a record.” Sam had never seen his brother be so in love with someone before, let alone being in love with someone for as long as he had been in love with you.

“Look Sam, she doesn’t like me in the way okay? I’ve made my peace with that. Why would I tell her that I love her if she doesn’t feel the same way? Sounds very silly to me.” Dean got up from his chair and walked out of the room with this now empty plate.

You were lying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you researching. You weren’t really researching anything in particular, just random things that had peaked your interest. As you were typing away, a small knock came from the other side of your door. “Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s Sam.”

“Come in!” You called back, the door opening and quickly shutting just as fast. You questioned the abruptness of the door. “Everything alright?”

“Peachy.” Sam replied. He pointed to the edge of your bed. “Can I sit?” You nodded.

“Did you get to try any of the pie yet? Or did Dean finish it already?” You joked, closing your laptop.

“No, not yet. He uh, he didn’t finish it yet shockingly.” Sam’s expression looked at you more serious now. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You smiled.

“Have you ever thought about telling Dean how you feel?” His question seemed to be coming out of nowhere.

“I…No.” You had wanted to tell Dean more than anything how you felt about him, but you knew that he didn’t feel the same way about you. “Why would I tell Dean that I love him when I know for a fact that he doesn’t feel the same way? It’s a little silly don’t you think?” Sam couldn’t help but almost let out a laugh. You two really are meant for each other. Sam thought to himself.

“But what if, there actually is a chance that he loves you too?” Sam asked.

You laughed. “Don’t you think he would have told me by now?”

“What if he’s afraid of the same thing you are?”

“Meaning…?” You weren’t completely sure of the point that Sam was trying to make to you.

“Meaning, what if he loves you too but thinks that you don’t love him back?” You furrowed your brow at Sam’s question.

“Dean afraid of telling me how he feels?” You laughed. “He doesn’t love me Sammy, trust me. I know what he looks like when he’s in love, and that ain’t the same way he looks at me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sam challenged.

Dean and you both were laying awake at night, thinking about the comments that Sam had said to the both of you. The both of you had similar thoughts in your minds: Does Dean really love me? Does Y/N really love me? Have I been reading the signals all wrong?

“Sam wouldn’t just bring that up if he didn’t say something right?” You said quietly aloud to yourself.

“Did Y/N say something to him?” Dean said quietly aloud to himself.

“I could easily ask him.” You said.

“No, no. I can’t just ask her.” Dean said.

“Sam’s fucking with me.” You and Dean said in unison.

“No…Sam wouldn’t do that.” You rationalized with yourself.

“No, Sam wouldn’t fuck with me like that.” Dean rationalized with himself.

“He’s literally right down the fucking hall. I could just…be hypothetical?” You questioned.

“It’s three in the morning. She’s probably sleeping.” He said.

“Fuck it.” You two said in unison, both practically jumping out of your beds.

You opened your door and started making your way down the hall. As you were walking, you were trying to keep your composure despite how nervous you were in that moment. “Don’t chicken out now Y/N.” You mumbled.

“Alright. You got this. You got this.” Dean mumbled. “Don’t be a pussy now.”

Your head was down, but just up enough to catch yourself if someone else was in the hallway. As you were walking you noticed Dean coming down the hallway, he seemed nervous and you wondered why.

“Fuck I can’t do this.” You whispered and started turning around back toward your room.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice had made you stop in your tracks, making you turn back toward him.

“Hey.” You tried to make your breath even. “What are…What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“I asked you first.” You said.

“I…Wanted to talk to you.” He sounded so nervous.

“At three in the morning?” You questioned.

“Yeah I uh…You know what, this can wait till later.” He said, starting to turn back into the direction of his room.

For some reason you had found yourself running after him, like you were in some cheesy romcom that you both secretly loved. “Wait.” You grabbed his arm, and he almost spun back in your direction.

Dean looked at you before looking at your hand. It amazed him each and every time how soft they had felt whenever you touched him. God, what I’d do to feel your hands all over. He thought to himself. “What’s up?”

“Dean…” He watched you take a deep breath. You were nervous and he could tell. He had known you long enough to know what you were feeling by just your body language.

You removed your hand from his arm, and he already missed the contact. “Y/N?” He asked.

“I uh…Can we talk in your room?” You asked, and he found himself automatically nodding.

“Of course.” He gave you a smile, hoping that would comfort you in some way.

You didn’t realize how nervous you truly were until you had made your way into Dean’s room. You had been in his room numerous of times (even spending the night in here) and it always strangely gave you comfort, but not in this moment. It was one of the rare occurrences in which even the calmness his room usually gave you, ceased to help you.

Dean shut the door behind you, something that made you even more nervous. You weren’t afraid that the door was shut, a majority of the time you and him had been in your room or his room, the door was usually shut. “I can, I can leave it open if you want?” He almost questioned, gesturing toward the door.

“No. No. It’s fine.” You said. “Can I…Mind if I sit on your bed?” You asked. It felt strange asking to sit on his bed. In normal circumstances, you would have just walked into his room and just sat down, never asking if you could first. Something that you were now realizing, was that you were the only person that never had to ask if you could sit down on his bed - everyone else had to ask him.

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Dean sat down on the edge of his bed and patted the spot next to him, in which you hesitantly sat down.

Dean looked into your eyes as you sat down next to him, placing your hands on your thighs. You rubbed them up and down. It kills me to see how nervous you are. He thought to himself, so badly wanting to say it out loud to you. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m nervous.” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. It made his heart ache.

“I’m nervous too.” He said, hoping that it would make you somehow less nervous.

“Why are you nervous?” You asked. Crap. How do I answer that? He thought to himself.

“Probably for the same reason you are.” He looked at your face, looking for some kind of hint of what you possibly could be thinking.

“I highly doubt that.” You looked away, and folded your hands as if you were back in school, patiently waiting for the teacher to give you instructions.

It started to seem very evident to Dean now, that you were either nervous because Sam was right - you did in fact love him, or you were nervous because you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him that you didn’t feel the same way that he did about you. Either way, it scared him.

“I…I thought this would be easier somehow.” You admitted, after what seemed like a forever amount of silence between the two of you.

“I feel like I friggin teenager.” Dean joked, you knew he was trying his best to lighten the mood.

“Same here.” You gave him a nervous smile. “Um…Dean…” You took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to tell him, while at the same time, talking yourself out of telling him. “You know you’re my best friend right?”

“You know you’re my best friend right?” There is was, the sentence that he didn’t want to hear.

“Yeah.” He said, feeling his heart quickly sinking into the pit of his stomach.

“And you know I appreciate you more than anything.” You couldn’t even look at him; he wasn’t sure if that was better or worse somehow.

He reached out for your arm, gently grabbing it. “I appreciate you too Sweetheart. And I know I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Don’t be silly. You show me plenty.” Your statement was true, he may not have realized it, but there were plenty of times when he had found himself doing things to show you how much he truly cared and appreciated you, even when he didn’t outright tell you - you were the same way. You sighed. “Dean –”

“Before you say anything, I just want to tell you that whatever you say to me, our friendship is never gonna change. I won’t hate you. I could never hate you, okay?” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you, or reassure himself in that moment.

“Here it goes then.” You took yet another deep breath.

“Fuck it.” You heard Dean mumble. Not even getting a second to react, his lips were suddenly on yours. His lips were just as soft as you had thought that they would be. Despite wanting to kiss him for as long as you had known him, you never thought that this is how your first kiss with him was going to go.

The kiss was quick, and not nearly as long as you had wanted it to be. He released his lips from yours and he stared at you blankly, almost embarrassed. “Sorry.” Dean said. “I uh…” He was actually speechless. “Shit.” He let go of your arms.

“Sammy was right.” He hears you mumble.

“What did my brother tell you?” He needed to know how badly the damage control was going to be, and how much he was going to kill his brother.

“He…He asked me if I um…If I ever thought about telling you how I feel.” So Sammy got to you too huh, Dean thought. “I told him that it would be silly of me to tell you how I felt because I knew you didn’t feel the same way.” You chuckled, nervously. “I guess…I guess I was wrong.”

“I told Sammy the same thing earlier.” He admitted. “As much as I wanted to tell you…” He trailed off, unsure of what he had wanted to say next, because there was so much he had wanted to say to you.

“You didn’t want to ruin our friendship in case I didn’t feel the same way.” You said, practically finishing his sentence for him. “I felt the same way. I mean, you know just as well as I do how hard it is to find people you can trust and rely on. I love both of you, and I didn’t want to say or do anything that would of fucked my relationship up with you guys.”

“So, what do we do now?” You asked, unsure of what was going to happen next. Just because the two of you had admitted your feelings for each other, doesn’t mean that you would actually do anything about it. As much as you had wanted to try out a relationship with Dean, you knew that he wasn’t much of the relationship type – then again, maybe it was because he hadn’t found the right person?

Dean looked over at the clock, noticing that it was almost 4:30 in the morning. He looked back over to you, almost looking too tired. “You spend the night in here with me. Or, morning in here with me.”

“And do what Dean?” You asked, curious as there could be a million things on his mind.

“Just lay here together…” He began to say, slightly pulling you in close. “Maybe cuddle…” He continued, leaning in slightly, inches away from your lips.

“Do some more kissing maybe…?” You whispered, slightly questioning. “Or are you too tired?”

“Hmmm, don’t think I’d ever be tired enough to not kiss you Sunshine.” He smiled tiredly, leaning in and kissing you again.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you would like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #reader insert #female reader #mutual pining the fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader

585 notes · View notes

rachalixie · 1 year

Text

the best man - part I

your best friend's getting married, and you're the maid of honor. minho is the best man. you're just trying your best to not let him get under your skin. pt II

warnings: lee minho x she/her!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 1.4k

one could say that lee minho was a thorn in your side, but he wasn’t enough for that. he’s maybe a bump. a small bump in the road you’ve been driving on, a constant presence but not enough to make a difference to your wheels if you drive over it. enough for you to notice but not enough for you to swerve to avoid.

he’s friends with your friends, so naturally, he’s around a lot. ever since your best friend got engaged to his best friend, jisung, he’s been around even more. in a few short months he’s gone from someone you nod at from the bar at group outings to the person you bump shoulders with when wedding planning in a tiny kitchen. from a person who’s number you didn’t have saved in groupchats to having a personalized contact complete with emojis. with him as jisung’s best man and you as the maid of honor, you’ve frequently been on opposing sides of friendly arguments about the cake, the flowers, the music that should be played. you’re convinced that he disagrees with you just to rile you up, he’s never passionate about his side and always sways to what you and your friend want in the end, he just does it for the entertainment.

you wish you found it annoying instead of endearing. that would make things simpler.

but it was in planning their surprise bachelor-slash-bachelorette party (you knew those two would never be able to separate enough for an entire night) that you got to know him well. in between choosing the types of shots you want to serve and the perfect cheesy crowns for them to wear, you learn that he has three cats that he loves more than himself, he’s really sweet underneath his teasing exterior, and that he’s a gentleman that always opens doors for you and gives you his jacket when he sends you home at night after being there for longer than you planned for. he likes to cook and he’s a dancer who once had big dreams but found his true passion in teaching it. he likes to work out but complains about it every time and he’s kind of the biggest dork you’ve ever met.

he grows on you like moss, the healthy green squishy kind, slowly taking over your roots until he’s become a part of your day to day life. you’ve come to expect daily weather updates, selfies with his cats, and mindless banter from the time you wake up until the time your head hits your pillow at night.

the actual night of the party goes off without a hitch, with drinks flowing and sappy speeches that have you wiping your tears discreetly to not ruin your makeup. you’ve both curated the perfect playlist, invited only the essential people you know the almost-married couple would want there, and made an entire table of snacks that got devoured before you can blink. you meet minho’s eyes from across the room several times throughout the night, a hidden meaning you can’t place hiding in his gaze before he looks away every time. it leaves you with a feeling of longing that you don’t let yourself think about for too long. the maid of honor and the best man? that’s too cliche, even for you.

you don’t see him again until the day of the wedding, where you both leave your respective dressing rooms at the same time to get ready to walk down the aisle and take your places at the altar.

“you clean up well,” you tease, running a finger down the lapel of his tuxedo. it’s midnight blue, the color that jisung has chosen to compliment the flushed pink of the bridesmaid’s dresses. it compliments his honeyed skin almost too well, the contrast making him look like he’s about to walk a red carpet instead of the off-white runner lining the wedding hall floor. the flower buttoned to his chest matches the ones in your bouquet.

“it’s been known to happen from time to time,” his tone is teasing but his smile is soft as he takes you in, winking at you when you raise an eyebrow at him. “you don’t look so bad, yourself.”

you look down at your flowers with a small smile, still not knowing how to take his compliments after all these months.

“shall we?” he holds his arm out to you and you take it, calming your nerves before stepping through the doors to the sea of people in the room. he walks you down the aisle, steps in line with yours despite his legs being longer, and it feels right, being there with him.

he drops you off at your designated spot and you’re glad; you’re not sure if you would have remembered where to stand otherwise. you’re both beaming as jisung walks down the aisle, steps a little too eager and smile a little too wide. it warms your heart how happy he is to be married to your best friend. the same best friend who next glides down the aisle in a show of practiced elegance, steps timed perfectly to the wedding march playing.

you meet eyes with minho once they’re situated, blown away again by him in the new warm lighting that he’s shrouded under. his hair is glinting in the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling, and his smile despite being on display for everyone feels like it’s just for you. you’re so distracted by him in his damn tuxedo that you almost miss when your friend starts her vows. by the time she’s done, both the bride and groom are nearly sobbing, and jisung has to choke out his own vows before dragging her into a watery kiss before the officiant can tell him to. the whole room breaks into laughter, softening into awh’s when he pulls back with a heart shaped smile.

the rest of the day is a blur. you take photos, make speeches at the reception, change into comfortable shoes, eat the cake that’s just been cut, and by the time you finally sit down to watch the first dance you feel like you’ve been standing for days. is this what it’s like to get married? doesn’t seem like it’s worth the trouble.

“dance with me?” minho says, interrupting your internal monologue and making the smile return to your face. his hand is held out towards you, palm up, and you take it in yours without a second thought. a chance to dance with the most handsome guy in the room? no way you’re going to pass that up, even if your feet feel like they’re on fire.

he guides you to the dance floor, stopping a few feet from the happy couple and bumping his free fist against jisung’s shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. you twine your hands together behind his neck and smile at him.

“all this planning and i never learned how to slow dance,” you say, voice low as you try not to let the embarrassment wash over you.

“don’t worry, darling,” he tugs you closer, the name he calls you bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i can lead you.”

and lead he does. he twirls you around the dance floor, the bottom of your dress swinging around your feet as he gracefully makes it look like you know what you’re doing. you let him move you, your limbs pliant as he sways your hips in his grip. the two of you somehow look like the most practiced couple there because of him.

the song switches to something faster and more upbeat, but he doesn’t let you go. in fact, he pulls you in even closer, whispering in your ear about how he loves the song before guiding you to dance with him again.

the night ends with the two of you in the hotel elevator, on the way up to your respective rooms on the same floor. without warning, his hand goes to hit the stop button and the elevator jerks to a still, making your heart beat race.

“what the hell?” you almost yell, too shocked to be mad. he moves into your space, placing warm hands on your cheeks.

“am i reading this wrong?” he whispers, eyes flickering between your own and your lips. it falls into place like jenga bricks, messy and out of your control but not completely unexpected - this attraction between you? he feels it too.

“no,” you whisper back, melting as he finally seals his lips against yours.

turns out the maid of honor with the best man isn’t too cliche after all.

part II

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids scenarios

1K notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 3 months

Text

fic rec friday 61

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Autistic Lance (Voltron) [series] by dontthinkiwont

"Look, okay, I get it, I like peanut butter, you like sharks. It's a thing, whatever. But seriously, dude - what the fuck?" - Or, Lance has Autism Spectrum Disorder and this can cause him to fixate on some things. Like, maybe, for instance, great white sharks. For example.

yes i like this series for projection reasons. whatever. it was also one of the first autistic lance fics out there!! and its v heavy in platonic relationships yall are gonna love it

2. Revelations and Reactions by @azapofinspiration

Keith couldn't believe it. He was part Galra. That was hard enough to deal with... But then he realized that he would have to tell the rest of the team. He couldn't help but fear how they would react. In which Keith reveals that he's part Galra after facing the Blade of Marmora's trials.

azap truly never misses. they KNOWWWW how to do found family like a CHAMP and i will never get tired of reading canon corrections where keith is like. loved and accepted lol

3. A Memory Like a Snapshot by MemeKonVLD

Pidge is still close —closer than is entirely comfortable if he has to be honest— giving him an evaluating glance. Lance doesn’t really know where to look, other than up her nose— but that grows old pretty fast. So he looks at himself in the reflection of her glasses. And squints. He touches his own face for the first time since waking up— and feels the roughness of his chin. “I have stubble,” he says, and the words are as alarmed as they can be even though they still sound slightly slurred, slightly off. Pidge blinks a couple of times at him, and finally retracts into a more comfortable distance. “Well, yeah,” she says. “You are like, what? 22? 23 in a couple of months?” “I’m feeling— I’m feeling a little queasy,” he says then, with bright spots of color dancing in front of his eyes as he thinks 22. Suddenly, a bucket gets shoved against his face. He takes hold of it with clammy fingers and he leans on his side so he can... use it. Thoroughly. “I’m having Garrison flashbacks,” he hears Pidge say. (Or: Lance is stung by an alien bug, loses his memories temporarily and makes assumptions about his and Keith's relationship. Also, Pidge cheats at Uno.)

losing your memories. and waking up. and someone treats you so kindly and lovingly that you know, immediately, in the bones of you, that they love you. and the feeling in your chest even if your brain doesnt remember of love for them tells you clearly that this person is your soulmate. i am going to LOSE IT

4. Love in the Times of (Intergalactic) War by MemeKonVLD

Lance: Oh, man. [I see him grow visibly excited here, leaning forward and putting his hands up— he’s big on gesticulating, as anyone who’s watched the pilots of Voltron host SNL a couple of months ago knows.] Space is vast. I know that’s not groundbreaking knowledge there, and everyone’s somewhat aware of it, but— being up there? traveling around space for years, and knowing we never even— we never even came near to touching upon a tenth of what’s out there? That’s cool, weird and scary all in one.

WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT 2016 FICS. HUH. ICONIQUE?? AMAZING??? SHOWSTOPPING?? INCREDIBLE??? bc pov outsider is the BEST and watching how much lance SHINES to anyone who looks at him...yeah

5. Skin by MemeKonVLD

He’s aware of Lance talking to him, but he’s still too asleep to try to decipher whatever it is he’s blabbering about. He only starts paying attention when one of Lance’s hands goes to the drawstring of his pajama pants. “Whoa, what are you doing?” He asks, slapping Lance’s hand away, cheeks warm. “You,” Lance starts, pointing at him (and Keith notices that for all he’s made fun of him for the last forever for them, he’s wearing his fingerless gloves), “are not screwing up my skin care routine, man.” (AKA: the one where Keith and Lance switch bodies.)

suave keith and flustered lance my BELOVED. swapped bodies truly has to be one of the top ten tropes of all time. love watching them be in love and also stupid

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#making these makes me sad now 😭😭#vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #getting together #established klance #autistic lance #galra keith #keith angst #fic rec #FRF #longpost

180 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start?

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle #the punisher #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #daredevil #charlie cox #from the vault #bonus fic #inspired by: now that we don't talk

251 notes · View notes

lonely-cowboy · 2 months

Note

hi!! how are you? i just wanted to tell you that i am obsessed with your writings omg :’((( i can’t even put into words how happy i am to find your account, the way you write connor is just <33

i was wondering if it’s okay to request something where connor is being protective over fem!reader?maybe some hurt/comfort with fluff in the end <3 I don’t have a specific scenario in my head, so it’s totally up to you, and i would love anything you decide to write for this request!!! also, you are totally free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired enough by this request, it’s absolutely okay! ♡

thank you! have an amazing day and please sorry for my english, it’s not my first language

ugh thank you my love this is so sweet to hear!! i'm so sorry it took me so long to post, midterms have not been fun my friends. i fear this is not my best work, but i hope you can still enjoy our silly android boy <3 you have an amazing day too!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

helping hand

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: connor comes to help you when you don't need him. again.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: graphic(?) violence (connor shoots a guy oops)

author's note: i write way too many first kisses and this is no exception. prepare for silly goofy domestic married fluff in the future bc that's what i live for

masterlist ⟡ requests

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You could’ve handled it all perfectly fine on your own. You didn’t need Connor’s help, you didn’t want Connor’s help. You were entirely capable of taking down a runaway vigilante on your own.

Sure, maybe it was stupid of you to run off on your own to the crook’s last known location the second the call was made. But he had been only three blocks away from you. What were you supposed to do, wait for backup? Of course not. You had the opportunity to catch a known criminal, so you took the risk. It was all part of the job.

You found yourself at an empty construction site with your gun drawn and pointed at the runaway criminal. You inched closer to your target– some crazy, murderous, anti-android protestor, there were a lot of those these days– slowly drawing your cuffs. You reached forward to restrain his wrists, fingertips brushing against his skin.

And then you were on the ground. You had been practically tackled, your temple striking the rocky earth hard enough that it looked like the world was spinning.

You sat up uneasily as you tried to orient yourself. Who in the world would have shoved you like that? The only indicator was your attacker’s quick “Sorry, Detective.”

You grunted in frustration as your vision cleared, focusing on the one person you did not want to see: Connor.

In all the time it took you to readjust, Connor had taken the vigilante to the ground. He stood overtop the criminal who groaned between crazed laughter. Connor’s foot pressed firmly into the criminal’s chest, a gun– that certainly did not belong to the android– pointed directly at the laughing man’s face.

You moved slowly from the ground, holding your surely bruised side. Your gaze was locked on Connor’s trigger finger, anxiously anticipating gunfire. You feared what it could mean if Connor pulled the trigger.

“Connor,” you warned quietly, your voice steadier than expected.

As you approached, you noticed the twitch of his finger. His LED was cycling through every color imaginable, his brows furrowing and unfurrowing as he held the criminal’s gaze.

“Never even think about touching her again,” Connor spit, his voice so cold that it frightened even you.

The pinned criminal only laughed, an ugly wheezing sound as Connor’s foot dug deeper into his chest. “An android in love, huh? Never thought I’d see–”

Connor’s foot rose quickly, stomping hard on the crook’s face until he was knocked out cold. From the impassive look on Connor’s face, you could tell he was practically seething. But that didn’t matter. Now was not the time to comfort him because you were equally as angry.

With an agitated huff, you shoved Connor by the shoulders as hard as possible. He barely moved at all, only adding fuel to your fire.

It was then that Connor seemed to snap out of his daze and remember you were there. He turned to you abruptly and discarded the gun, his hands finding their place on your biceps with a firm grip. His eyes immediately scanned over your frame, analyzing you for any damage. The only damage he found was what he had done.

The crease between his brows returned as he reached up to touch your throbbing temple. When he pulled his hand back, his elegant fingers were tipped with your blood.

“Did he do this?” Connor questioned, an edge of doubt in his voice.

“No, Connor,” you snapped, shaking off his hands. “You did this! And it wouldn’t have happened if you had just let me do my job for once!”

His LED blinked a steady red. Funny how it matched the blood on your temple.

“Detective, I was only trying to help,” he reasoned feebly.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Connor! I was handling this just fine on my own! And then here you come to save the day yet again, all knight in shining armor! Acting like I’m your damsel in distress, in need of saving!”

“Did you know he was armed?” Connor asked dismissively, quizzically cocking his head in a way that usually enamored you but only seemed to irritate you now.

You opened your mouth to retort, but nothing came out as you processed Connor’s words. Armed? No, you hadn’t known he was armed. But if you admitted that then you would’ve looked stupid, like you needed Connor’s help. Like you were some damsel in distress.

When you didn’t answer, Connor gestured to his forgotten gun. “That was his. He was preparing to shoot you.”

“I could’ve easily disarmed him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms arrogantly. “I’m a trained professional.”

“The probability of success was 29%,” Connor stated matter-of-factually. “A majority of outcomes would have resulted in your death, Detective. I couldn’t take that risk.”

“Then maybe you’re not cut out for this job,” you growled. “This job is all about taking risks, Connor. I knew that when I signed up, and you should too.”

Your harsh tone made Connor pause, though he was quick to recover. He was determined for you to understand.

“If I can prevent your death, then I will. I won’t let your pride stop me,” he said.

It was your turn to pause, lips pursing into a thin line at the reality of Connor’s words. You knew he was right. He was right, he was right, he was right. But you refused to acknowledge that.

When you opened your mouth to speak, nothing came out besides a yelp.

So quickly you could barely process what happened, Connor’s grip on your arms tightened as he spun you around. One arm wrapped around your shoulders to pull you into his chest protectively while his other hand moved to your holstered gun.

A single shot was fired. And an accurate shot, you guessed, by the sound of a slumping body.

Peeking past Connor, you found the body of your runaway criminal, a bullethole pierced right through his skull. You made note of the gun beside his fallen body, the same gun Connor had carelessly discarded.

You felt Connor return your gun to its holster before his hand moved to your chin. He turned your attention away from the dead body, forcing you to focus on him instead.

“I know you’re capable, Detective,” Connor murmured, his voice full of a fondness you hadn’t noticed before. “But that doesn't mean I can’t help. I feel better knowing you’re safe than assuming you are.”

You swallowed hard as you held Connor’s steady gaze. His free hand moved to brush your aching temple. His touch was so gentle you could barely feel it as he wiped away the blood with a frown.

“I only wanted to keep you safe,” Connor explained, his voice holding a tinge of– was that regret? “And I only managed to hurt you myself. Maybe you’re right, Detective. You don’t need me. I’m sorry.”

Your hand moved to tug Connor’s hand away from your temple, holding him in your warm grip. His thumb rubbed against your knuckles soothingly as if it was second nature to him.

“I do. I do need you,” you insisted suddenly, surprising even yourself. One minute, you’re practically yelling at Connor for helping. The next, you’re reassuring him that you’ll always need him. You were confusing even yourself, you couldn’t imagine how confused Connor, the poor android. “I… I do. But… not all the time.”

Again, that crease between Connor’s brows returned, your lips forming a smile at the sight.

“I don’t appreciate you enough,” you continued with a defeated sigh. “I do need you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d already be dead, you’re right. You’ve saved me twice today. But that doesn’t mean I need you to swoop in and save me every single time. I can still handle myself.”

“I know… I know…,” Connor whispered, his eyes unfocused as if lost in thought.

You let a beat of silence pass, watching Connor expectantly. There was something he wanted to say, it was on the tip of his tongue. So you patiently waited until he found the words.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

An android in love.

The criminal’s words replayed in your mind as they suddenly came back to you. At the time, you hadn’t completely processed what he said, your anger outweighing any thoughts of reason.

An android in love.

“Was he… was he right?” you asked after a beat to which Connor tilted his head with a puzzled look. Damn him for not being able to read your mind and immediately know what you were struggling to say. “The guy. What he said… He said that you…”

“Are in love,” Connor finished, his tone flat and conveying not a single sense of love.

“Yeah…,” you shrugged.

“If love can be defined by a desire to keep you safe, then yes, I would say I’m in love with you.”

With you.

He was in love with you.

You couldn’t hide your wide grin, ignoring the warmth that had suddenly spread to your cheeks. Seeing your grin, the corners of Connor’s lips quirked into a small smile too. Your faces naturally moved closer together until your noses were brushing, the warmth of each other’s breath against your lips.

Connor leaned closer. Closer, closer…

He was going to kiss you, and you were going to ruin it.

“You know,” you interrupted, pulling back no more than an inch. But it was enough to make Connor frown. “I’d rather not kiss next to the dead guy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Connor’s smile returned, an affection glint in his eyes. His hand found yours, pulling you away from the scene.

“Backup is on the way,” he said. “They can handle this on their own.”

With his hand in yours, Connor led you away. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. It was a reassurance. A sign that you were safe with him, that he would do whatever it took to protect you. You returned his firm squeeze. Because you would do the same for him.

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

255 notes · View notes

layla4567 · 3 months

Text

Sanji with a reader who loves to collect trinkets (headcanons)

Pairing: Sanji x GN!reader Warnings: slight mention of bullying, beta read A/N: this is entirely inspired in tinkerbell lol

❀ You recently joined the straw hat crew but still became friends with all its members. You were a very curious person and you saw the world through a kaleidoscope of colors, you appreciated the small things that life gave you. And that caught Sanji's attention.

✿ You had boarded that ship for the first time with a large brown shoulder bag, it was hand-woven and had some colored patches all made by you since sewing was also one of your hobbies. You clung to your bag as if it were a life preserver, no one knew what you kept in there but everyone sensed that it must be something of important value to you.

❀ Everyone was very kind to you, respecting your space, secrets and belongings (well, Luffy not so much since he doesn't understand what personal space is). Ussop was very funny and told the best jokes, Luffy was an adventurous captain who liked to give hugs, Nami was a girl with an excellent gift for drawing maps, Zoro was a silent and serious individual but with a beautiful interior and finally there was Sanji. the ship's cook, a blonde with blue eyes with a tongue dipped in honey every time he spoke. Shameless but sweet flirtations slipped from his lips every time he spoke to you. At first you felt a little self-conscious because of his pet names or compliments, but he never crossed the line and would stop if he sensed that you were uncomfortable.

✿ Little by little you became close to him and you realized that, very contrary to what you thought at first, Sanji was not the typical womanizer who flirted with women to feel more virile and then leave them hanging, no, he was a gentleman. He always offered a helping hand, asked how you were doing and if you liked your new home. You weren't sure if he was like that with all the crew members but something inside told you that he was even sweeter with you.

❀ Your room on the ship was comforting, at first you were offered to share a room with Nami but even though you found her very nice you preferred to be alone. When you entered you saw a large wooden trunk like a treasure chest, and you would definitely place several treasures there, but not the ones that people imagine. For you, your best treasures are those you found in the sand, under a rock, hidden in the grass and in the ground, or even what you found near the seashore. You collected small relics of nature and treasured them as if they were diamonds in the rough. You opened your shoulder bag and delicately and lovingly placed what you were carrying: Sea shells, a piece of old paper that seemed to have something written on it, a stone that shone and seemed to be nacre, etc. Many people would think that you only kept rubbish and collected dirt, but you couldn't explain the value that those objects had and the satisfaction you felt when finding something new.

✿ Your room was forbidden to others, no one could enter and if they wanted to talk to you they had to knock on the door. It's not that you were a grumpy hermit, but you were so afraid of someone finding your treasure chest that you didn't want anyone to even come and look. You had a feeling they wouldn't understand you and would make fun of you like everyone else. Although now the straw hats were your friends and seemed like kind people, doubt always remained installed inside you, you were tired of the mockery and prejudices. You couldn't stand even a mean look

❀ Luffy was the most difficult to convince, with Nami and Zoro you had not had much problem since the first had understood that you had your secrets and the second was not interested in entering your room much. Ussop hadn't been a problem either and Sanji, well, after making some flirtatious jokes about "Why would I come into your room, love? Do you even want me to come in?" He respected you and didn't put a single toe near your door. But Luffy… holy crap that boy moved faster like a squirrel, always from here to there. And when you told him that he couldn't enter your room he started to ask why? like a little boy. You didn't want to give him explanations, so since you couldn't muster patience and you were starting to get frustrated, you exclaimed: "DON'T COME INTO MY ROOM AND THAT'S IT" and you walked away stomping.

✿ Poor Luffy, he was sometimes a little intense but he had no bad intentions, he was simply a slightly impulsive person who expressed his emotions eruptively like a volcano. So he didn't understand why you had gotten so angry if he had simply asked you something normal. Ok, maybe he had insisted too much and should have stopped, but he doesn't know when to shut up. After this little "discussion" things had gotten tense and Sanji, like a good Samaritan, had gently approached you to ask if you were okay: "What's wrong, sweetheart? Is everything okay?" His delicacy and tact when speaking made you smile again and you had almost forgotten why you were angry.

❀ When you returned to your room you opened your chest and caressed the objects, a soft green parrot feather you held in your hands. Your fingers brushed the furry part of the feather and soon you felt better. Those objects were all you had, they were everything to you. Every thing you collected had life and told you a story. They held memories and history.

✿ Apparently the captain of the straw hats was somewhat forgetful because one morning while you were sleeping comfortably in your hammock, Pel thought it would be a good idea to enter your room and wake you up with a smile like he usually did with the others. Luffy thought that the problem had already passed but when you finally felt the fine rays of sun on your face you slowly opened your eyes a little sleepy and when you saw him standing there next to you with a happy face you almost fell out of your hammock. Your eyes widened in horror and you jumped up, shouting for him to leave. Luffy got a little scared and looked at you confused. Your screams were heard throughout the ship and soon the other members were standing in front of your closed door, resting their ears on the wood to hear better. Angry and worried that Luffy had seen your chest, you got off the hammock and pushed him towards the door without giving him time to say anything. You opened it and kicked him out roughly while the others quickly walked away from the door and looked at Luffy in surprise.

❀ After that you locked yourself in your room and didn't come out for anything in the world. You felt angry but also ashamed and then sadness followed. The others looked at the captain with disapproval, they knew him and knew that he was a good person but sometimes he did not mediate his impulses and unintentionally hurt others. At dinner you didn't go out or eat anything, Sanji couldn't allow others to go hungry so after everyone had left the table he went to your room and knocked on the door twice: "Hey sweetie, you're not hungry?" "You haven't eaten or gone out all day." You were surprised to hear the cook's sweet voice through the wood, but you didn't want to leave, not yet. Despite your efforts to keep him away, he wouldn't give up: "Come on dove, I promise I won't come in but if you come with me to the kitchen I'll prepare whatever you want." Reluctantly you wiped away your tears and opened the door, quickly closing it behind you.

✿ Sanji noticed your moist and slightly red eyes and couldn't help but worry: "Oh my love, come here, don't cry anymore" He said while hugging you and caressing your hair "I promise to cook your favorite dish or dessert." You smiled shyly against his clothes and you both headed to the kitchen. The cook loved two things in life: cooking for others and helping people, and he did both things perfectly. He went out of his way to care for the crew and that made him happy. You sat on a stool with a downcast face watching what Sanji was cooking. He concentrated on his task but he didn't take his eye off you either, from time to time he looked at you trying to know what was going on in your mind. "Listen, I know Luffy can be very stubborn sometimes, but he really wouldn't hurt anyone, you have to forgive him," Sanji said. You just shrugged your shoulders, "I understand that you don't want to talk about what happened, sweetheart, and I respect it, but if at any time you feel like talking, I'll always be here" Sanji looked at you lovingly and you saw compassion and understanding in his eyes.

❀ When he finished cooking, he gave you the plate and you ate vigorously, you knew it was rude to eat so quickly and put large portions in your mouth (like Luffy) but you hadn't eaten in a while and what Sanji cooked was delicious. He just looked at you funny and more than delighted that you like his food so much. When you finished eating you felt much better and had the strength to tell what was bothering you so much, you felt that you could trust him and that he would not judge you. An atmosphere so trustworthy and healthy had settled between you that you decided to tell him the truth about your treasures. Sanji listened to you attentively and did not take his eyes off you, sometimes he nodded his head, understanding more about you. When you finished speaking you looked at him worried, afraid that he would say some hurtful comment, but that didn't happen. Sanji smiled warmly at you: "You don't have to fear my petal, your hobby is charming in my opinion, I would love to know more" You were pleasantly surprised by his words, the blonde boy had not only said that he liked your hobby but had listened to you without laughing and now looked at you with what could be said to be… love?

✿ The next day your little conversation with Sanji was a well-kept secret in your heart and his. He felt full knowing that you had trusted him and you were happy to have taken a weight off your shoulders. Of course the others looked at you two strangely since sometimes you smiled or gave each other knowing looks. No one had overlooked the fact that you and Sanji were now closer, some had by chance seen the cook wink at you, place a hand on your back when he pulled out the chair for you to sit down, or even flirt more with you.

❀ Yes, you became closer. Sanji had a positive influence on you. One day he approached you and asked you to give Luffy another chance. His voice near your ear tickled you but you decided to follow his advice. Sanji had become a kind of keeper of your secret and you were happy about it. He had proven himself trustworthy. So you decided to "reward" him in some way, you knew it wasn't necessary but that was what your heart told you. One night when everyone was in their rooms you went to the kitchen knowing that Sanji would be there, he smiled at you like he always did and asked you what you needed. You told him you had a surprise for him in your room. You thought you saw a rosy color on his cheeks but you were distracted by his teasing flirtations. Still he followed you behind. When he entered he felt like he was stepping on sacred ground, he didn't even know what your room looked like. A little hesitant, he stood there not knowing whether to walk or not, but you smilingly grabbed his hand and led him to the chest. You crouched down and he imitated you. You solemnly opened the chest and showed them your most precious treasures. Sanji looked at everything with admiration, you showed him a bottle covered with a cork and inside it there were different types of sand. Then he grabbed an old diary that was damaged by humidity, it was missing pages and had a worn spine. You explained to him that you had found it on the beach one day, you asked everywhere for its owner but you couldn't find it and you decided to keep the object. Everything you found, whether old or new, broken or not always given a new use.

✿ While you spoke with true passion, Sanji looked at you smiling, biting his lip from time to time, happy to hear you speak so animatedly and open up more. You were so focused that you didn't realize his proximity until you looked up and saw his face a few centimeters from yours. Your shoulders bumped into his. You felt his gaze on your lips and you pursed them somewhat blushing. He laughed and said "Thank you for sharing this with me, now I also have a treasure to take with me" and immediately kissed your cheek and then left your room. You still felt that heat on your cheek where he had kissed you. Now I also have a treasure to take with me… you didn't know if he was referring to this moment you two had… or to you.

173 notes · View notes

bookishdream · 11 months

Text

Underwater

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader Description: Kaz and reader are in an established realtionship and when they think they succeeded in the Heist, something goes wrong. Genre: Angst/Fluff Word count: 1,8k

To Kaz, loving her was like drowning. His head would spin, his palms would sweat under his leather gloves, he would be confused. But it also felt like a first mouthful of air after he broke the surface. His heart would skip a beat and he would let out a first, shaky gasp of relief that he finally was able to get out from under the water. She didn’t make it easy to love her, her own traumas, her own nightmares and demons that couldn’t let her rest, her own vengefulness and personal vendetta against the world. But Kaz couldn’t and didn’t resist when he realized what all of those weaknesses meant. He was taken aback when he realized that he had a heart to give her. And she was happy to nurture and keep it safe.

When the Crows got the job to do they knew they might not come out alive from this. All seven of them were aware of the fact that death might be lurking behind the corner. So when Inej got injured y/n felt death on her shoulder, creeping closer and closer, making itself known in her every thought.

“Saints, Inej,” y/n exclaimed when she noticed that the Suli girl finally opened her dark eyes. Her brown face looked worn out and the remains of her blood could still be seen on her pants. Y/n delicately helped her friend up and propped her tensed body up the wall. The ship was swaying, the light bulbs weren’t giving much light, but she could see how Inej was grimacing when she moved her limbs. “You scared us all.”

“I scared myself,” Suli replied, touching her thigh. She hissed when her finger made contact with a scratch. Nina was a decent healer but even her powers were limited. “Are we safe?”

“As safe as we can be with this lunatic,” y/n smirked, leaning against the wall beside her friend. She tried to make a light out of the situation, but it was hard when she had been helping Nina bring colors to Inej’s face. She didn’t think she had taken a full breath in since Inej got attacked. “Somehow he figured we would be ambushed.”

“One would think he’d done it himself just to prove his point,”

“It’s Kaz, I think he himself doesn’t entirely know what is in his own head,”

“I reckon you would know best, y/n,” Inej smirked in her direction, her eyes glowing when she noticed how y/n’s cheeks grew redder. The girl rolled her eyes and got up.

“I will go fetch Nina, she’ll be thrilled you’re awake,” y/n smiled at Inej, taking her in once more to make sure she could be left alone.

“Coward,” Suli sing-songed.

“Stay still and do not go anywhere, you unbearable creature,”

“You and I will have this talk one day, I hope you know,”

“Dear Ghezen, have mercy,” after this she left and went to look for the Heartrender. She found Nina walking around the dock, Jesper keeping her company. They looked anxious and Nina’s palms were slightly shaking.

“Y/n!” Jesper exclaimed, “Is Inej okay?”

“She woke up, actually,” the girl said, sitting on one of the wooden steps. “I think you should take a look at her wound, it opened up a bit.”

“Yes! Yes, of course,” Nina shot to her feet, running to the room where Inej was sitting.

“Is Kaz okay?” y/n asked the Zemeni boy, his eyes were locked on the newest addition to the Crows. Wylan, on the other hand, was fidgeting. The boy couldn’t sit still and he was looking guilty, as if he had betrayed himself. Y/n wasn’t surprised regarding his upbringing. She hoped he would get used to it, being disappointed with himself that is.

“Go and ask him yourself, he nearly threw me overboard when I asked if he wanted to change his shirt, I’m not risking anything,”

Y/n nodded and made her way to the bow, where the Dirtyhands was standing. He looked lost in his mind, his hand clenched on the railing. His hair was disheveled and the wind didn’t seem to be helping with that. Not like he paid any mind to it, anyway.

“How are you holding on? I heard you were the one that carried Inej onto the ship,” she started, trying to come as close to him as she could, but still give him his space. “She’s alive thanks to you, Kaz.”

“I know,” he remarked. Y/n breathed a laugh, of course, she didn’t expect no other answer. “But I can still feel the wetness of her blood,” he started, his breath heavy and voice no louder than the sound of the wind. “I really tried not to drop her.”

“But you didn’t, Kaz, she’s alive and what’s most important she’s okay,” she smiled at him, she put her own palm on the railing, so that he could feel her closeness, but not close enough to overwhelm him.

After this night everything was left to the fortune. Inej prayed to her Saints everynight, Jesper worshiped his revolvers, Matthias was brooding and making faces whenever one of them so much as mentioned their destination, which was often enough that y/n was afraid that his face would stay in that way, Nina sang some old, Ravkan songs, Wylan and Kaz were going through the maps all over again and y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling of certain energy creeping from behind the corner.

So when they somehow succeeded in their plan, after many, many close encounters with death, she was relieved to feel every bone, every muscle, every hair on her body. She was sore from head to toes and for the majority of the journey to Ketterdam she was sleeping. She felt like she was on fire.

However, when they eventually docked to the Fifth Harbor and were ready to receive their payment everything went to shit.

“The deal is the deal, Van Eck,” Kaz said, the first signs of the storm were in the air. Y/n shivered looking around her friends’ faces. Everyone seemed confused, including her, and tired.

“Not much of a deal if no one besides us knows about it,” the merchant’s voice was filled with pride, his face full of arrogance. “I didn’t know you were so naive, Mister Brekker. Fortunately, none of you leaves the island alive, so no one will hold me accountable.”

“You’re wrong,” Jesper countered, his hands ready to take out his guns.

“Am I?” Two things happened at the same time, the ship behind them, the same one that they’d arrived on, blew up and Van Eck’s people started shooting. The force of the explosion was so big that y/n couldn’t keep her balance. She fell on her palms and knees feeling the hard concrete underneath her. She looked around her making sure that everyone was okay. Her eyes stopped at the silhouette of Kaz and Van Eck. She tried to warn Kaz, but to no avail. Y/n felt a pair of arms lifting her up, Jesper’s scent hit her nostrils. She got up as quickly as she could with his help and she found a box to hide behind.

“Jesper, cover me,” she whispered, the Zemeni looked at her, perplexed.

“Always,”

Whatever she wanted to do, it was stupid. Probably the most stupid thing she had ever done. She left her shelter and tried to get closer to the place where Kaz was still having a conversation with the merchant. She carefully went along the dock’s line so as not to fall into the canal. She kept the pistol hidden to prevent the guards from shooting. She creeped closer and closer and she could hear their words as clear as the storm over her head was allowing, still minding how close to the canal she was.

“You have too many weaknesses, Brekker. She for instance is one of them,” Van Eck motioned to his man. “Take care of her.”

Then the hell broke loose. Y/n didn’t know where she was supposed to look, everything happened so abruptly. Both her and the guard lifted their guns, aiming. Y/n fired but even with Jesper’s help, her shot wasn’t good or quick. She felt the knifr hitting her and hot, white, flashing pain radiated in her shoulder. Tears shot to her eyes but she didn’t let herself scream. She swayed on her legs, then a second knife hit her. She fell and kept falling. She hit the water.

She realized that the feeling of death she had experienced was inevitable. She was meant to die on this trip and once she had managed to escape its arms, but this time it looked her straight into the eyes. She tried to swim back to the surface, however her arms felt as if they were made from the lead. On top of that she was losing too much blood, too quickly. She prayed even though she wasn’t religious. Eventually, after what felt like hours, she closed her eyes, expecting death soon.

Unexpectedly, she felt two arms pulling her out of her slumber, she opened her eyes noticing Kaz. Kaz, who almost drowned himself. Kaz, who dove right after her. Y/n let herself smile at the thought that he cared so much for a person who might die in a few minutes. They hit the surface, taking big gulps of air. Kaz screamed at Jesper to help him, but y/n understood only every other word. Jesper and Matthias helped Kaz to put y/n on the dock and then helped him get out of the water. Kaz took off his gloves and his heavy coat. He put the latter over his girl’s body and he let her lean against his own body.

“Nina,” he barked, “I need you to take out those blades.”

“She lost too much blood, Kaz,”

“She will heal herself, pull them out,” he hissed, trying to bring y/n around. She was pale, but her lips still had their pinkish color. “Don’t die on me, y/n.”

“Matthias, give me a cloth, until she’s conscious she won’t be able to do anything with her power,” Nina ordered, kneeling beside y/n. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

When the Grisha pulled out the first knife, the wounded girl hissed through her teeth. “Do not move,” Kaz said, his voice calm, but everyone could hear a hint of relief. “You’ve lost so much blood.”

“You jumped after me,” she whispered, her words only loud enough for him to hear. “Kaz–,”

“Shh, love,” his eyes softened, but he didn’t dare to touch her. “I couldn’t have lost you the same way I’ve lost him.”

Y/n gasped, touching his palm.

“I didn’t know Kaz had feelings,” Nina commented, getting up. “We need to patch y/n up and then we can take our revenge, so you’d better heal fast.”

#crooked kingdom #six of crows #six of crows one shot #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #grishasworld #grishaverse #jesper fahey #kaz brekker one shot #nina zenik #soc inej #soc jesper #soc fanfic #kaz soc

658 notes · View notes

a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 25 days

Text

Goodbyes pt.2: cbf!soap x f!reader

Warnings: nothing happy happens in this chapter you've been warned, sexual themes so mdni (18+)

Six months.

That was how long it had been since you had last seen and spoke to Johnny. He had told you that he wasn't sure how long it was going to be and you weren't going to fault him for that but it didn't mean you weren't any less hurt.

It seemed like every time he went away you grew further and further apart. After last time you thought that maybe things would change, that things would start to go back to the way they were but you were wrong.

You tried your best to go along with it. You waited everyday for him to call when you knew he wouldn't, you forced yourself to not get upset by the silence and tried to count down the days until he might come back.

The days blurred together and before you knew it you were starting your next semester in classes. You tried hard to not let his absence get to you, you had done this already, but something about this time just made it so much worse.

You were failing two of your classes and could hardly focus enough to get your assignments done in time.

It bothered you. Everything bothered you. It was like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the slightest breeze threatening to push you over and bring you to a complete breakdown.

Then he came back.

Johnny didn't surprise you this time, he couldn't because he could hardly keep his mouth shut or his excitement down because the adrenaline from his first mission still pumped through him.

He felt like a whole new person and though he hadn't changed his appearance he looked like a new person.

It didn't matter to you though, not when he was finally back. You were just happy to finally feel his arms wrapped around you again.

"Let me take you out somewhere." Johnny offered with a grin as he squeezed your hips. "Go get drunk or something-"

You accidentally cut him off with a passionate kiss to his lips. You had been so overcome with emotions that you couldn't stop yourself.

He was surprised and unable to reciprocate fast enough before you pulled away with wide eyes.

You found yourself strangely shy and you nervously tried to step away from him but he wouldn't let go of you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Johnny grabbed your face and smashed his lips against yours. It turned heated immediately, all of the excess emotions that you both had melted into each other as he stuck his tongue inside your mouth to taste you for the first time in months.

You whined when his hands groped your body and held him close as he placed hot kisses on your neck. You gasped when he roughly picked you up and dropped you on the bed with desparation.

He threw his shirt off and you wrapped your arms around him. He attacked your neck and you dig your fingertips into his back, causing him to flinch and grunt out in pain.

"Sorry." You were a little confused since you didn't think you had pressed that hard until you spotted a bruise on his ribs that made your heart drop. "Johnny, what the fuck?"

He pulled back from you with out of breath and confused until he saw where you were looking. He got a little sheepish but didn't shy away as he revealed more of the bruise on his ribs.

"Ah, it's nothin'. You know me, I'm always gettin' roughed up."

The bruise was large and differently colored across his skin. It spanned from his ribs to his back and you couldn't help the horror that spread across your face as you gently moved him to get a better look at it. It was across his spine and that made your heart begin to race when you had the horrible thought of what could've happened.

The more you looked, the more you noticed that a lot of his body had bruises and that was when you noticed a couple small cuts on his face as well.

Johnny was always getting roughed up but this was entirely new. He never got hurt this bad.

"Did you get hit? How are you moving right now?" You barely touched him now as you frantically searched for any other wounds. "What happened?"

"I fell." He shrugged nonchalantly and you gave him an incredulous look. "It's just a little sore, nothing I cannae handle."

His face slowly fell when he was met with your scared face. He quickly grabbed a hold of you when you tried to get up and tried to give you a reassuring smile.

"You need ice-"

"I'm fine, I promise."

You shook your head. Your tired mind was already racing, your nerves having been fried for months now, and this was just the very thing you needed to be pushed off the edge.

"This isn't something you can just say you're fine to." You tried your hardest to stay calm but your voice shook. "You could've died."

"C'mon, bonnie, be serious-"

"I am being serious!"

Johnny gave you a look, a scowl falling across his face while you struggled breathe. He huffed and grabbed his shirt, putting it back on while he tried to continue to tell you that he was okay. When you weren't being able to be convinced he huffed and clenched his jaw.

"Why are you acting like this?" He asked and your mouth fell open with shock.

"How am I supposed to act about this, John?" You snapped and his eyes narrowed. "You show up with massive bruise on places that could've killed you."

"Okay, but I'm alive. This is normal, I'm not sitting at a desk, I'm out in the field-"

"You're actually deployed?"

Johnny couldn't help but glare at you. Deep down he knew it wasn't personal but the way you said struck something in him. It was if you had expected him to be some pencil pusher, someone who wasn't good enough for the job he actually had.

"I didn't think that'd be an issue." He said and you gaped at him.

"Why wouldn't it be an issue? You're risking your life and you expected me to just be okay with it?" You yelled at him as tears welled up in your eyes.

"Yeah, because this is the reality of the job and this is how it's going to be."

"You're not seriously staying-"

"I didn't work this hard to quit now!"

A few tears fell and you placed your hands over your face. You tried hard to control your breathing but you were so worked up you could feel the signs of a panic attack coming along.

It was too much for you. The months without him and now the looming threat that he could die and you wouldn't know. You couldn't handle that.

"I'm alive, just let it go." He said and you glared at him.

"You're a fucking prick, I can't just let it go." You yelled and he averted his eyes from you. "I spent the last six months waiting for you and you're telling me that you could've died, that I could've lost you and might lose you in the future and I'm supposed to let it go?"

You began to shake and hyperventilate. You felt like you were going to pass out, you felt like you needed to run away as you shot up from the bed unable to contain yourself. Tears streamed down your face and you let out a strained sob.

Johnny's heart dropped and he watched you with concern. He suddenly became all too aware of just how badly he had been acting just now and how he had completely ignored your current state.

He had noticed how sick you looked, how stressed you had been but thought that it was just school but he was wrong, especially now as you fought a panic attack.

It was because of him. He knew you would only get this upset because of the circumstances and for it to get to this point he knew it had been bad.

Guilt surged through him and he rushed up to you.

"Bonnie" He tried to wrap his arms around you but you weakly pushed him away. "Let me help you, you gotta let me help."

You let him wrap his arms around you tightly, enough to help ground you before he brought you to sit on the ground. You sobbed into his shoulder as he rocked you back and forth, shushing you quietly while he tried to sooth you.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into your ear. "It's scary, but I'm okay. I'm right here, I'm not gonna die. I'm always gonna come back to ya."

It was a long time before either of you let go of each other. He whispered as many apologies as he could while you let out the last six months of stress into him before you finally exhausted yourself.

Johnny couldn't sleep.

His mind was too active to let him, especially as you subconsciously cuddle in closer to him in your sleep.

This had been a wake up call.

He hadn't meant to be so dismissive of your feelings. He had been too stuck in the mindset he had when he was working to give you the proper care you needed. In the field he had to suppress his emotions if he wanted to stay alive but he was home now, he was with you now. He should've been kinder, anyone normal would've been scared seeing the bruises and he should've expected it from you but stupidly he thought you'd just go along with it.

He wished he could take back what he did but he couldn't. In hindsight, maybe it was better he had acted the way he did because it brought to light an issue he had been avoiding since he visited you the last time.

You couldn't handle this.

It was obvious that you were miserable when he was gone, to the point that you were failing your classes and putting off you responsibilities because of him. You were too stubborn to admit it to him for whatever reason, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that if he just continued things would get better.

He knew he'd continue to hurt you. It wasn't on purpose and you wouldn't blame him for it but regardless he would be the cause of so much pain for you because of his job.

Eventually you'd get sick of it. Eventually things would fall apart.

He knew what he had to do.

Tears streamed down Johnny's face as he pulled you closer into him. His chest began to hurt and he shook as he stared into the darkness of your bedroom. He had never felt so scared before in his life but he knew that if he didn't do it then he would ruin your life, he would hurt you way worse.

When he eventually got called back to work, he held onto you tightly while you cried. The words got stuck in his throat and he couldn't say anything to you while he avoided your eyes.

That was the last time the two of you saw each other.

a/n: oops

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023 @blush-haze @xxshadowbabexx @infpt-zylith @sadsackssss @fandomsfanficsfantasize

#cbf!soap #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish

141 notes · View notes

queenscodex · 1 year

Text

❣ Kiss the year away ~ !

-> it's seconds till midnight and as the clock strikes down comes with a kiss of a new year and promise

Includes; Riddle, Deuce, Ace, Floyd, Jamil, Malleus, Lilia, Silver

Gender Neutral Reader

~~~~~~

┆彡 this is so late, I wrote this on new years but never got around to posting it so- happy late new years ! I hope this year treats you kindly and I am looking forward to the opportunities that may be presented. Love you all <33

Jamil is a little bit ooc and there are some angst in Lilias part. I hope you enjoy !!!

Riddle Rosehearts

It was truly a beautiful party. The tables were adorned in lavish fabrics with goods and silverware; wildlife trimmed and painted nicely in white paint. The members of Heartslabyul gathered around as dozens of colors exploded on the midnight sky

The clock counted a mere two mintues until the strike of the new year. A new call to a journey with unseen adventures.

As those around him chattered of there plans for the coming change, Riddle couldn't seem to focus on that. His attention was entirely absorbed by that whom sat beside him.

A strawberry tart on your plate, crumbs dusting the corners of your lips. Normally Riddle would have scolded such messy manners, but the way you smiled at him with the colors of the sky illuminating your face, Riddle felt a squeeze in his chest, a sensation that made it impossible to look away

The night would mark a new year with you. New love to be expressed, emotions to learn and to better himself on his flaws. A cause and effect chain occurred the day he fell for you, wishing to be the best version for you and striving for said goal ever since.

Riddle felt his eyes widen as you leaned forward, unbeknownst it was now 12 seconds till midnight. A blush of red layered on his cheeks- though invisible to the dark sky. " It's almost midnight Riddle" you smiled, flashing a toothy grin. The pure look of joy on your made his heart beat faster.

Around him, his dormmates- no friends started to countdown, voices echoing through the yard. Riddle smiled but instead of joining in on their chant, he closed the space between you.

Soft lips upon your own, nose brushing against skin. And before you could blink a firework exploded in the distance announcing the official arrival of the year and departure of the past.

" With this new year, I promise to present you the best version of myself. To hold my temper, learn and mend the cracks in my person. And above all, I promise to understand love and give you all of my heart, my rose."

Deuce Spade

The ravenette felt his breath get caught in his throat, his sense unable to comprehend the passing time; both from the anxiousness and bubbling admera

Whilst the rest of his dormates spent the introduction to the new year with each other in the courtyard of their lovely dormhouse, Deuce opted to take you somewhere more secluded. A moment you both could cherish together alone without Ace to spoil his plans

The picnic was plastered on a soft terrain which gave a overview of the sky, dozens of lights twinkling in the distance, Deuce can faintly make out the lights of nearby towns and villages.

Your gaze was fixated on it, eyes twinkling at each flash. A spectrum of colors before your eyes before disapaiting to speckle of light then nothing. According to your watch, it was soon approaching to midnight

Deuce found it impossible to focus on anything else other than your features. The way your hair curled around your face, the steady rhythm of your chest rising, and slight curve at the tip of your lips.

Your gaze flickered to him and hastily Deuce looked away flustered at being caught. This coaxed a laugh from your figure, your hand going to fill his empty one.

Unable to contain himself, Deuce brought the hand to his face, resting the palm against his cheek. His touch was careful as though you were constructed by porcelain. What he did said next surprised you; "Thank you for choosing me." He muttered finally having the courage to look into your eyes.

If he was being quite honest with himself, Deuce was in disbelief that someone other than his mother could love him. A struggling highschool boy with a history of brawls and bloody knuckles. That wasn't necessarily the most attractive of things.

You quirk a brow at his sentence. "Of course." And as though to make your point, you leaned forward, pressing your lips on his.

The act surprised him but he nonetheless returned the gesture, eyes closing shut as he absorbed the sounds sound him.

When the kiss broke, before you could say or do anything, Deuce beat you to it.

" Y/n, I'm still figuring out being a good boyfriend. But I promise this year I will learn to love you to the fullest. I always swore to my mother that I will be better and I want to extend that promise to you- to be better for you too. Please forgive me for any mistakes I make."

Ace Trappola

" I could have sworn it was the start of December just yesterday" Ace sighed playfully, sliding a slice of strawberry cake toward your direction.

You smiled, accepting his offer and twirled the fork pinched between your fingers as you ate a peice. "They say time can move fast when you when you're happy."

Ace mimic the grin on you're face. As the next few seconds past, his mind sliped from the current moment and into the past; dancing round the past memories created within the year.

The day of his (quite) terrible confession, the first kiss, cries and repeated adventures. That brought a smile to his face. Though his placid expressions quickly flickered away as it as his mind drove further back.

He had a past girlfriend, someone he was meant to cherish and love. He made that promise. Well a broken promise now, it's been years since he last laid eyes on her. Though perhaps for the better. Though terrible he was during those years it paved the way to eventually meeting you.

At first he thought he fell for on a whim, an itch to scratch a boredom. But as cupids arrow struck him deep within the chest, he had fallen for you. Hard. Within that moment he refused to make the same mistakes.

A mess he became. He was known as the confident Heartslabyul boy. Yet you saw a different version of him. You always saw a boy who became shy at looking in your direction. The one who handed you flowers and almost cried from the thorns breaking skin from clutching the stem so hard. The one with sweaty palms when you complimented him, beaming a shameless blush whenever you kissed.

"Ace? What's the matter?" Your voice broke him from his thoughts. With a smile he shook his head, his hands went to grab yours. Without warning he kissed the back of your hand.

" Just thinking about us." Before you could question that the chanting begun.

5... 4... 3...

As the numbers ticked down, Ace leaned forward. You could feel his breath brush against your upper lip.

2...

A searing kiss entailed as the final number echoed out. It was followed with some members teasing, acting disgusted at the pda; though Ace easily ignored there remarks as his attention was captured by the one who held his heart fully.

He left out a chuckled as your face was colored red, eyes widened at the sudden kiss. Though rather teasing you as you expected he would, you were instead surprised as a peck pressed to the corner of your mouth.

" Happy new years, babe. That's the first kiss of many to come, and I promise that among other things!... But above all I promise I won't make the same mistakes as last time."

Floyd Leech

You sat at a booth in the Monstro Lounge, resting your legs after an eventful dance of twist and turns as music echoed from the establishment.

The lounge was decorated for the great event, streamers sloping from the corners of the room, tables adorned with unending foods. And to top it off it was lighted by a lively blue illuminated from the tank.

Floyd sat beside you, head resting on the palm of his hand, eyes watching the onlookers. " I don't understand why people get so excited about a new year." He said nonchalantly, clearly not entertained by the festive party. Though that didn't quite surprise you but nonetheless his response cause a curl of your lips.

" For some, it allows them to create goals and things they want to try for the new year." You said, leaning down to mimic floyds expression.

"That's what Jade saidddd." He whined playfully. Without warning his arms went to wrap around your arm, pulling you close his figure. A yelp escaped from your lips, almost smacking your head straight into his chest.

"Butttt~ spending time with shrimpy is always a good thing~" He teased and then paused. Your face reddened at the closeness. While it was true being Floyd's partner meant dealing with a clingy eel it never failed to cause a flush. "Say~ does shrimpy have any plans for the new years~?"

You attempted to get your voice leveled as much as possible. " I suppose I would like to enforce better habits. Maybe take on a new hobby." The music around you soften, hinting the countdown was drawing near. "What about you, Floyd?"

A second paused, the countdown had started behind you. Suddenly, to your dismay, a mechious smile engulfed his face. He leaned dangerously close to your face. " I would kiss shirmpy everyday~!" He announced.

"Here!" Floyd quickly pressed a peck against your cheek, a flutter echoing from your heart. However he kept going. "Here~" neck. "Here" top of your head.

Floyd continued his musing with little hesitation even ignoring your squirming at his antics. His grin only grew wider with each darker shade of red you became.

"And finallyyy~" He teased, his words lined up with the countdown occurring behind you. You braced yourself for whatever spot he picked to torment next. "Here~!" He announced with a giggle. He almost bumped his head against your own as he closed the distance, finally giving some attention to your lips.

" I will kiss all over~ everyday and there's no way you can get rid of me shrimpy~ thats a promise"

Jamil Viper

To my understanding there was some sort of new years event? (God I haven't played the game in a long time) disregard that for now ! He might be a little ooc!

Members of Scarabia gathered around the main hall, wisps of chatter bouncing off the corridors followed by laughter. Among the dorms, Scarabia was the most festive in celebrating the introduction of a new year.

The house dorm was decorated to the fullest, and activities were plastered around the room for members to pass the time until the awaited countdown began.

Jamil looked at the playing party with a blank gaze to his eyes. Whilst everyone found celebration, Jamil failed to exhibit similar enthusiasm. This caused you to purse your lips together.

Though you had an idea to what may roam his rather mysterious mind. You weren't oblivious to Jamils distasteful attuide towards Kalim despite all efforts from the Al-Asim boy to gain his friendship.

Perhaps Jamil was making silent comments about Kalim now who sat in a nest of pillows and blankets, surrounded what can appropriately be described as a banquet of foods at his fingertips. Though unlike others who voice their thoughts on Kalim, Jamil was careful with his crude comments. That all the more made you wonder what ran through his mind, especially now on the eve of a new year.

Jamil had caught your gaze a couple of times throughout the night, he always returned it with a half genuine smile. Perhaps that's all his face muscles moved throughout that evening you'd argue.

Though any opportunity you had to investiage was struck down by the events Kalim hosted, members dragging you away to play all kinds of games all the way till midnight.

And when the awaited hour drew near, you gathered around with the dorm members when you notice Jamil slip away into the kitchen area. With a quirk brow you followed after him

" Jamil, where are you going? They say it's another couple minutes until the countdown." Jamil only made a sigh, that made you worried further. "Is something wrong?

" The new year is suppose to bring new opportunities to people. Though where I stand, it just reminds me of another year to serve Kalim and his family." He admitted his eyes unable to connect with yours, more or less staring out to the crowd of people behind you or to the kitchen appliances.

"Ah, I never thought of that." You murmured. You felt your stomach drop of those words, if only you could change something to bring a better start to the year.

" I believe they're about to begun the countdown. you should join them, y/n." He noted the time indicated on the clock, soon he will be departing from another year of being a servant only to introduce another.

"I'll stay here with you." You stated attempting to sound cheerful. That caught the former off guard. Though he would soon come to learn that love came with plenty of surprises. " I want to start the year with someone I love. Is that alright?" Your face was growing certain hue at the confession but you stood your ground nonetheless.

"I... of course." Jamil felt his heart skip a beat. Love was so different from emotions he faced before, yet he welcomed the sensation with arms open for an embrace. Your smile only grew which in turn caused the butterflies in Jamils stomach to multiply.

As though to seal the deal, you went to peck him on the lips. Muscle memory kicking in, his hand went to clasp over your hand, pressing light squeezes.

Two and a half squeezes meant 'I love you'

" Though my fate for the future has been decided already, I won't let that stop me from loving you. I may still be figuring out how to be honest with my emotions, but I know for certain I want to be by your side with each progress."

Malleus Draconia

"We're counting down?" Malleus questioned with a tilt of his head. For him, including many fae it was perhaps the first time they have celebrated a new year. As for they, years ran by like months unlike to the perception of humans.

" We count down with the clock, so when we reach zero it will be a new year." You informed him with a quirk of your lips. Your smile was full of delight, pure of any wrongs the world may have done.

It was no secret Malleus was hopelessly in love with you, it was plastered in the way he look at you. His eyes were a camera and you a sight his mind was ready to photograph.

Malleus was completely enamored by you. Even as he tore his gaze away for the nth time, his mind went back to thinking about you, replaying the images captured at that moment.

That was how the night was spent, the two of you stealing quick(though Lilia would argue both were rather obvious) glances at the other until it was time to count down to the final second the year had left to offer.

" And that's all?"

" I suppose so." You replied sheepishly. A second later an invisible light bulb went off in your head. " How about when we say zero we... kiss?" Your voice became a mere whisper by the end of it but who can blame you? It wasn't like kissing was anything forgien to you, but it was still quite intimate and awkward.

Your idea definitely piqued the fae. " I think that is lovely way to start the year and give departure to the past and all the memories of it." His words made your face flush, Malleus always had an odd grasp of words, not that you were complaining.

The countdown began. Numbers chanted around you, humans and fae alike. It ticked down like a rhythm, voices audibly growing later with each digit till the awaited zero approached.

Voices of celebration cheered out around you. Malleus was just starting to understand human traditions, he found them ood yet interesting. Though all fail in the fascination he held towards you.

Interesting how a human can capture all of his attention in desires within weeks of meeting him. He was supposingly the most power fae to be, buckled to his knees by a mere mortal.

Making good of the promise, he leaned to the capture your lips as fireworks exploded in the sky around him. A hand found its a way to cup your face as a dozen thoughts swarm him at once.

" Child of man- my treasure, I wish to enter this year always by your side. I wish to explore these traditions and learn human culture with you. You have already gifted me so many fond memories I can only recall in my dreams. I hope I do not fail to make you feel the same way, I shall dedicate this year to show how much you mean to me."

Lilia Vanrouge

Another year loss, another year spent. That's how the bat fae saw it. It was far out of the control of mortals, even those who lived past generations of human kind.

Though that wasn't to say that he didn't see the appeal humans may have towards a new years celebration. In contrast to their short life span, a year is exactly that a year. However to that of a fae, it past like seconds.

How old was the fae now? He lost count.

He forced a smile on his face as he felt your grasp on his arm tighten, beckoning him closer to your body. You looked radiant as ever, dressed in festive clothing to match the occasion of the event.

Your features showed off a grin, oblivious to the grim thoughts running through Lilias mind. As much as he desired to share those emotions of pure joy and bliss, he couldn't conceal his wince whenever the topic of passing years came into discussions.

Before long the countdown began and the thoughts only grew louder

10.. How many more years does he have with you until time became cruel and robbed him of his love? A human lifespan felt so small to what he will live

9.. Will the pain of your passing be brief? No he doubted that, no one has made him nearly buckle under the weight of his body like you did. Perhaps fate will be merciful on him. Perhaps.

8.. how many kisses, hugs, cuddles will he have until he is only left to ponder of scenarios?

7.. maybe he should have been more cautious when you first showed interest in him.

6.. Was he a fool for falling in love knowing you were a human and he a fae? He always heard the saying that one should be allow to indulge their wants. Was this one of them or merely a selfish thing that would come to haunt him later

5.. he almost chuckled to himself as he thought about it. He was a solider in the army, the queens highly regarded knight. He possesses centuries worth of knowledge and yet he is bewildered by the questions that strike his head

4.. he can not deny it. He has fallen for you harder than he possibly liked to. Fae and human. Sounds like fairytale, one he knew how it would end.

3.. his thoughts hit a pause, finally taking in the current reality around him. The soft music, the cheering, voice and most importantly your figure. You still shone that small smile that he had fell in love with

2.. the worries wouldn't leave his mind entirely. But for now, perhaps focusing on the future should be left for later. Right now you looks so radiant and happy. Lilia wanted nothing more than to hold you close and allow a smile to dance his lips. He wished to lead you in a waltz, be the one to spread joy to your heart.

1.. for a second his thoughts still. Using his strength, he leaned to capture your lips, both hands holdings the ends of your face. Despite himself, he playfully nipped at your bottom lip. He was standing precariously close to the edge but that didn't seem so dangerous anymore with how close you were to him.

0.. maybe he should have heeded the warnings, but he is a fool in love, and for you he would lose his dignity.

" Ah my love, how these months pass without mercy. Though I will not try to fret so much, this year is a introduction to new memorable bonds. And I make this promise to you as the clock strikes twelve to make fulling moments for both of us to cherish. How does that to you, hm~?"

Silver

How silver still kept his eyes at such a late hour? He wasn't able to place a finger on it. One would assume that with his curse, as soon as midnight drawn near he would have been the first to fall alseep( and be victim to Lilias marker pranks )

Yet but some outside power he managed to keep himself awake. And he wasn't upset about it either, he was able to witness your cheerful presence as the dorm celebrated the incoming new year

He was perplexed by the celebration, having been raised and taught by Lilia. New Years celebration wasn't necessarily something he looks towards, it was another day for fae. Perhaps he may take the time reflect on all that has passed, but that was what it mainly came down to.

You felt your clothes bounce around your body as you twirl and stepped around to the beat of the music. Silver led the dance, swift movements in a rhythmic playful waltz only he knew the steps to.

Your face was flushed red by the onlookers, including that of Lilia who held a playful smirk. You were sure you were never going to hear the end of it. Yet Silver looked unfazed: hadn't it been for the small curve of his lips, you would have easily assumed he was emotionless about the dance.

" It's almost midnight," you whispered breathlessly. Silvers arms went from your shoulder to wrap around the curve if you body, resulting the both of you to be closer than before.

Your face flush slightly. " I suppose so." He whispered against your ear, a shiver running through your spine.

Throughout the night, Silver has heard talk of goals the members wished to accomplish within the next year. When asked of his own goals, the boy would reply on the obvious, becoming a better knight and protector

Though as he danced this rather silly waltz with you, his mind slipped to further ideas. He was always focused on what he wanted but you looked so adorable when you blushed at his acts, heart beating agasint his chest. His focus on the future while clear added new outcomes. He couldn't stop from wondering how you may take part in his future, how much he wanted you to take part. How you fit perfectly with hik like some puzzle.

While the white haired boy found himself to be quite oblivious to the concept of love; he found a want to protect you, greater than any force had compelled him prior.

He was the knight to your fairytale and he desperately wanted to hold onto that. That was his new focus.

Before he knew, the time ticked down to the final second and without a hesitation, Silver determined his future and set in stone. Perhaps you would never hear of this goal, though whether you knew or not didn't change his ambition

As a way to seal the silent promise, Silver leaned to kiss you fully, weaving the way to a new purpose. While he would glady give his life to Malleus, he would also allow himself to indulge into the known possibility of a life with his beloved.

And of course, he couldn't deny that a kiss was good way to start the new year.

" My love, I promise to protect from any threat that dares to pierce your skin. It's a khights duty to protect, I raise my blade to you, protecting your heart before my own."

864 notes · View notes