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andypantsx3 · 1 year ago

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𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 : 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 1.7k of unedited alien prince shouto thoughts based on this post from the other day! sfw, gender neutral reader. several elements of this universe were borrowed from my fave sci-fi novel; see end notes for deets!

he's beautiful—the todoroki prince. tall and strong in his high-collared uniform, strapped with lean muscle and handsomely humanoid. he's the first thing that snares your gaze as your party is guided into the hall of the sun—the reception dome that overlooks the rise of the star yuuei in the morning sky, used by the ruling family to receive visiting dignitaries.

it is morning, in endeavorian planetary time, and the sun has begun to rise. its light is weaker than you remember from back home—almost watery, pooling like quicksilver in the panes of the dome's ceiling.

up at the front of the hall, it catches in the strands of the white half of the prince's hair. from what izuku has told you, it's the half that indicates he's part of the himura bloodline. the himura dynasty has ruled the yuuei system from its capital planet of endeavor iv for tens of thousands of earth-years. it's the second longest line of unbroken rulers in mapped galactic history, an impressive feat.

the other half of the prince's hair is a fiery red, like that of the man who stands next to him—todoroki enji, the general of intergalactic renown, who donated half of prince shouto's genome as well as his clan name. each time a himuran royal from the main line marries, izuku had explained, talking at lightspeed in the podship, they take a branch name, typically sourced from the primary gene-donator. it helps keep inheritance lines clear.

prince shouto looks like he's inherited empress rei and todoroki enji's genes in exactly half—his coloring split down the middle, though his features are perfectly, almost hauntingly symmetrical. he wears a pin of flint at his collar that symbolizes his gender—one of yuuei's thirteen official designations. from what you understand from izuku, it most closely aligns with earth designation "man".

it's embarrassing how much you notice about the prince as you file into the hall, stationing yourself right at the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, so you can still see todoroki shouto.

"you don't think they'll reject the treaty and kill us all, do you?" denki mumurs nervously as he presses in behind you.

"no, i don't think so," izuku's gentle voice drifts back to you. he's a three-star ethnologist, studying for a command ethnology post. subsequently he's the most informed of any of the cadets that have been sent along with the treatise party. you and denki are just mechanics, sent along in case anything goes wrong.

"the alliance would be too much trouble for the yuuei," izuku explains. "they have good relations with the surrounding galaxies and tight control over a lot of resources. but the alliance is really large now, compared to the last time they approached the yuuei. they'll likely want to accept at least a loose federation with the allies."

up on the platform at the front of the hall, prince shouto blinks long and slow, like an earth cat. you realize with a start it's the first time you've seen him blink at all, and the subtle reminder that he is not just an extraordinarily handsome human man but the prince of an alien species makes your skin prickle.

"don't you think it's weird they are all this pretty?" denki asks. "it's weird, right?"

"definitely weird," you laugh, your eyes trailing over prince shouto's blade-straight nose, his pert, perfect mouth. "possibly illegal under intergalatic law."

prince shouto stills all of a sudden, and there is the tiniest tilt of his head. two heterochromatic eyes flick over your way, and you are completely embarrassed by the way your stomach swoops in response. you just manage not to grab onto tenya's uniform to steady yourself.

one of the prince's eyebrow arches almost imperceptibly, and you wonder if he's heard you from this distance—but no, that would be insane.

denki picks up his commentary, emboldened by your playing along. you think the prince's eyes linger just a little too long on the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, but then you're distracted by the reception beginning.

the alliance treaty officer strides forward, flanked by a few of the other officials your crew had ferried here. she performs an elaborate bow, as do the other officials. from izuku's muttering you gather it's some sort of ritualistic greeting, and empress rei at least looks pleased with it, waving a gentle hand to gesture the party forward.

there is some shuffling as various aides set up a table and a series of holo-tablets, along with various inks, a leathery roll of endeavorian traditional parchment, and—

"is that a knife?" you ask, peering at the long obsidian blade placed on the table in front of the officials.

izuku's fluffy head of green curls inclines. "treaties are sealed twice. once in the alliance fashion and then again in the local custom, to make it binding per both systems. blood pacts have been used in yuuei for millennia."

the brush of something over your face has your gaze turning back to the prince—to find him staring straight at you, those unblinking eyes boring into you.

"izuku, weird question. can the yuuei hear across rooms?" you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

a green eye peers back at you. "only in the event of their pair bonds—the yuuei are documented hearing their matepair across approximately ten earth-kilometers. i think we're safe over here though. why?"

matepair. the world settles strangely under your skin, as the prince's eyes brush across it.

"uh, matepair?" you echo.

tenya gives both you and izuku a quelling look, but it's not enough to deter izuku from ducking down to explain in slightly quieter tones. "the yuuei look human but they pair differently. they form a parapsychic bond with only a single partner, which they maintain and uphold for life. it's not just cultural—it's like a physical compulsion. they cannot take another pair, and they cannot be separated for long periods or they grow sick."

prince shouto is still staring straight at you, and it's not quite comforting enough to know that he cannot possibly hear you.

it's only his role in the ceremony that seems to eventually break the prince's weird focus in your direction. he steps forward to perform his duty as empress rei's chosen heir. you almost flinch as the knife draws across the pale skin of his palm, and he adds several drips of silvery blood to the parchment, symbolizing yuuei's intent to uphold the treaty across future monarchs.

the flesh of his palm knits itself back together in seconds, and another little shiver goes up your spine. those mismatched eyes flash back your way as he steps back, and the various aides and officials once again converge on the documents.

there is a brief flurry of activity, various bows and oaths, some stilted endeavorian verse. the chief treaty officer looks relieved when it's all over, and the royal family steps down from the dais to greet the rest of the visiting party, as is the customary honor granted to allies to the yuuei. tenya ushers you into the queue near the back with denki, a symbol of your lower status as mechanics.

you don't mind, as the thought of reaching prince shouto has your stomach doing what feel like backflips in your gut. the longer the delay the better.

izuku had walked everyone through the appropriate greetings on the podship, a few murmured words and a hand touch at chest-level—extremely hard to mess up, even for you. but nevertheless your pulse kicks up the closer you draw to the royal family.

there's a long line of them you greet first. offshoot branch members, then general todoroki enji, whose enormous palm burns hot against yours and who looks he'd rather take your party's hands off than touch them. then rei's unchosen heirs—the princess fuyumi, prince natsuo—and a gap where prince touya would have stood, were he not offworld.

and then you're standing in front of prince shouto, your pulse pounding in your ears. he's extremely tall up close, clearing six feet easily, broad across the shoulders and handsome in a way that almost makes your teeth ache. the yuuei look deceptively human, but this near you can see the tiny details that separate them from you—the slight double-point to their ears, the silvery undertone to their skin, the prolonged space between their breaths and their blinks.

and of course their inhuman beauty. they don't quite look like regular people, and it sparks a tiny note of wariness in the primeval part of your human hindbrain.

prince shouto's mismatched eyes pin you, silver and blue, as a sudden, silvery flush creeps across his face. you hold your hand out in greeting, trying not to wonder if you've somehow managed to offend him already—but instead of pressing his palm against yours, his long fingers suddenly grasp yours, clasping tightly.

beyond him, empress rei freezes too. all at once you can feel every single himuran noble turn to look at you, hundreds of eyes pinning on you.

reflexively, words tumble out of you. "shit did i—what did i do? were you supposed to get a different hand thingy?"

you can hear the treaty officer's horrified inhale at the terms shit and hand thingy, deployed in crass galactic standard in front of a literal prince. you immediately wish you could take them back, but from the look on the prince's face, he's already heard them.

something at the corner of his mouth twitches, like he's trying not to smile.

"y/n," he says, in a deep tone. it's crisply accented and just as beautiful as the rest of him.

it takes you a second to realize prince shouto has used your name, which he could not possibly know considering the uniform you'd been issued for the yuuei visit has no unique identifiers on it. you glance down at yourself, then back up at him, befuddled.

"how did you—? where did you—?" you garble out. "did denki put you up to this? how do you know me?"

prince shouto's fingers smooth over yours, delightfully warm, calloused and sure. "i would know you in any universe," he says, voice soft. behind you, you hear princess fuyumi make a tiny sound of delight.

you blink. "universe? what—uh, what universe? how would you—?"

but shouto leans in, tugging you closer with those deceptively strong fingers. he's so very warm up close, and so beautiful it makes your brain short circuit, especially as he lowers his face to yours. a shiver rolls down your spine as his other hand takes you gently by the chin.

and then he murmurs a single word before pressing his mouth to yours—

"matepair."

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: credits where they are due!! the idea of a space general dna donator, an overarching space alliance pursuing a treaty, & the flint pin denoting gender were taken from my fave sci-fi novel winter's orbit by everina maxwell! (if you love heartfelt gay love stories in space i am actually begging you to read it).

#todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x you #todoroki x you

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calypsocolada · 1 year ago

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how they kissed you for the first time... ft. soshiro, gen, & kafka

authors note: kaiju no. 8 is addictive. i bought the first manga then proceeded to buy the next nine. i'm obsessed with these three <3

cw: light violence

wc: 2.8k

click here for my masterlist

“Burning the midnight oil?” A familiar voice asked. You practically jumped out of your skin as you spun around in your wooden chair. Vice Captain Hoshina was comfortably leaning against the door to the library, eyes amusedly taking you in.

“Vice Captain!” You gasped, holding a hand over your heart as you quickly gathered up your things. “I-- I apologize, sir.” Hoshina chuckled playfully, pushing off the door as he approached your table.

“No need to apologize, cadet. But you do know sleeping is a part of the job too.”

“I know. I’m just… not tired. Thought I would study a bit.” You responded as Hoshina snickered slightly. He ruffled your hair.

“This late? You’re a real overachiever aren’t you?” He teases as you fix your hair, blushing slightly.

“I just like to be prepared, that's all.” You huffed slightly as Hoshina leaned against the desk beside you, he looked down at you.

“You say you’re not tired but look moments away from falling asleep.” He points out.

“Well… maybe it is getting a little late.”

Hoshina chuckled again, that same smug look on his face. He nodded, a small hint of concern in his expression. “Yeah, it is. And you should be in bed like everyone else. Besides-”

He stood up straight and pushed himself off the desk, crossing his arms and towering over you for a moment. He returned to his playful smirk and spoke. “-We have drills tomorrow and I can’t have you falling asleep during it, can I?”

No, sir.” You responded, turning and hiding the blush on your face. He chuckled softly and gave you a smug smirk, he was an observant person so of course he saw your blush before you could hide it.

“Don’t act so embarrassed, I’m just looking out for you.” He chuckled again and that damn smirk grew slightly.

“I’m going, sir.” You answered quickly, loading yourself with books. Hoshina watched you amused until you dropped one. He caught it with ease, cocking his head.

“Do you really need all of these?” He asked as you pouted slightly.

“I only have the hold on these books for two more days.” You said as he sighed softly, reaching and grabbing over half of what you were holding.

“Lead the way.” He said as you nodded your head, walking out of the library and down the dark halls of the agency. Your room was a short walk and when you arrived you quickly unlocked the door and Hoshina followed you in, placing your books on your desk.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s just us, you can call me Soshiro.” Hoshina said over his shoulder. You froze, staring at his back as he straightened, his eyes taking in your private quarters. You jumped when your door fell shut behind you and when you turned back Hoshina was looking at you. A smug and satisfied look on his devilishly handsome features. “Go on, I give you permission.” Your mouth goes dry, your lips parting but no sound comes out. He laughs then. He knew the effect he had on you, knew exactly the kind of attack he just dolled out on your nervous system. Hoshina, up to this point, had been nothing but mostly professional around you. The only thing unprofessional before was his constant joking but other than that he had been an angel. Kind of. But you on the other hand fell fast and hard. It was embarrassing and something you would try very hard to take to your grave. “Did I make you nervous?”

“What-- n-no. It’s just-- I’m tired, that's all.” You covered, albeit sloppily. Hoshina raised his head slightly, a brow quirking up.

“Well… I wouldn’t want to keep you from sleeping.” He says, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes as he walked towards you, you moved out of the way of the door and gave him a terse smile. He looked down at you. “You’re actually going to sleep, right? You won’t read those books once I leave?” He jests as you nod your head.

“I’m going to sleep.” You affirm shakily. He was standing so close. You could move your hand a few inches and you’d be touching him. You could take one step and meet his lips with ease. You looked away quickly at that thought. Ashamed of where your mind could take you.

“Good night.” He says softly, hand reaching for the door. You’re not entirely sure what came over you but he was so close. Just right there. And walked you back to your room, carrying your things, talked to you like that and you were so weak already for him. You kissed him. It was probably the quickest kiss known to man. You had just gently pressed your lips against his in a quick peck and pulled back faster than you’d ever pulled back. Your face was beat red.

“M-my apologies, sir.” You said, turning and moving away but he caught your wrist.

“You call that a kiss, Cadet?” He asked and when your wide eyes met his he pulled you back to him and lowered his lips to yours.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stopped mid walk into the doorway of your boss’s office. To call it a disaster would be an understatement. For the past week you’d been on a much needed vacation.

“Y/n?” A voice exclaimed, surprised to your right. You almost dropped your tray of tea.

“Mr. Narumi, you startled me!” You gasped, turning.

“You’re back a day early?”

“Mr. Hasegawa asked me to.” You said, walking carefully over the discarded boxes of yamazon orders to place the tea on his desk. Gen’s jaw tightened.

“He did, did he?” He asks as you nod your head.

“Yes, sir. Would you like me to clean up your office a bit-”

“No. No, I will take care of it. You should be home, enjoying your last day of vacation.”

“It’s alright, sir,” You reach and grab a trash bag but Gen reaches out, hand gracing yours to grab it away from you.

“I wanted,” He sighs. “I wanted to clean this place before you got back.” He mumbled, cheeks red in embarrassment.

“I really don’t mind, Mr. Narumi, it’s my job to help you out.” You say and Gen shakes his head.

“This is my mess, you can go home early.”

“I just got here, sir.”

“And I’m giving you the rest of the day off, as well as tomorrow. Both paid of course.” He says, crossing his arms. You stare at him for a moment, parting your lips but Gen just shakes his head. “Go on, enjoy it.” He says, turning to start cleaning up his own mess.

“Alright, thank you sir.” You say, leaving the tray behind as you make your way towards the door, glancing back to see Gen dutifully shoving things into a trash bag.

An hour later you knock on his door and when he opens the door you hold up take out from his favorite restaurant.

“Before you try and send me home I thought we could have lunch together.” You say and his eyes sharpen before he inevitably steps to the side and lets you in. His office is much cleaner and this time you walk with ease to his desk, he follows behind and grabs two drinks out of a fridge as you pull out the food. “It looks nice in here.”

“Can you pretend you didn’t see the mess this morning?” He asks as you smile.

“What mess?” You ask and watch his face relax as he grabs and drags his chair to sit beside you.

“I… wanted you to come back unstressed from your vacation but Eiji just had to ruin that.” He says, taking a drink before popping open the container of his food.

“I’m not stressed.” You say, popping open your own container as you feel Gen’s eyes on you.

“Would you like the rest of the week off too? Paid of course.”

“No!” You laugh, shaking your head. “Seriously, sir, I feel fine. It was a good vacation, I feel rested and relaxed. Ready to work.” You say, taking a bite of your food.

“Are you sure?” He asks as you finally meet his eyes, he looks so worried for you. You furrowed your brow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, he looks back at his food.

“You deserve better than to be my assistant.” He says and you pout slightly, tilting your head.

“What? I like being your assistant, sir.” You say as Gen sort of sighs, it was clear something heavy was weighing on him. You should’ve known he was acting strange from the first moment you talked with him.

“I don’t want you to be.” He finally says. You stare at him, shocked and slightly hurt.

“Oh.” You say, the bite of food you were about to eat paused. “I… I apologize. Did I do something to upset you?” Gen’s eyes fly up to yours.

“What! N-no of course not, Y/n.”

“I can speak with Mr. Hasegawa and have him transfer me to-”

“That’s not… I didn’t mean it like that.” Gen says, rubbing his forehead in a stressed sort of way.

“What way did you mean it, sir?” You ask. Gen looks down at his food, he then inhales deeply and turns towards you. You hadn’t noticed how close you two were sitting until right now. He was so close, his eyes soft on yours until they dipped low to your lips then snapped back up. Your stomach flipped at that little action.

“I want… more.” He says and your lips part in surprise.

“More?”

“More.” He affirms. “May I… kiss you?”

“Kiss?” You echo, eyes sort of wide. He reaches over and tucks your hair out of your face.

“Yes. May I?” You can’t wipe the shocked expression off your face. Your lips barely form the word yes and he’s leaning in, hand sliding across your cheek to pull you to meet his lips impatiently. He wanted it and needed it.

You breathed heavily, staggering to the side, hand placed on debris to keep yourself standing. You were sure you were dead. The jaws of a kaiju opened up to swallow you whole but suddenly you were on the ground, dizzy and unaware of how you got there. But then you saw it. The infamous Kaiju no. 8. You watched as it killed the kaiju that had you in its clutches moments ago. You staggered back when the kaiju turned to face you, fear jolting through you as you fumbled over debris to get away.

“Y/n! Be careful, you're injured!” The kaiju said as it ran over to you. You screamed, you didn’t know those things could talk! You scrambled to your feet, rushing and dizzily falling as you tried to get to the gun you’d dropped in your fight with the last kaiju. Strong hands gently grabbed you and when you turned you were face to face with kaiju no. 8. You screamed and threw a punch, connecting with its jaw but the creature just stared at you, seemingly hurt until its eyes connected with something behind you. “Oh… shit.” The creature grunted as you stared at it, shell shocked. It’s voice… somehow familiar. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the kaiju still had a tight hold on you as you glanced back. The creature was looking at its reflection? There was only so much strangeness you could take as your body practically shut down, the adrenaline that was fueling you moments ago drained out as your legs gave out and you fell backwards into the Kaiju’s arms. “Y/n! S-shit… we have to get you to the infirmary!” The kaiju expressed and in that moment, seconds before you lost consciousness one name left your lips.

“Kafka?” You breathed out completely dumbfounded.

When you woke up it was light, almost a blinding white. You blinked a few times, groggily yawning as you carefully sat up, your entire body ached as you gently stretched out your muscles.

“You’re awake!” A voice to your right exclaimed in a breathy whisper. You turned and there was Kafka, he dropped his coffee and dive bombed towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight bear hug. You grunted in surprise as he held you tightly, as if he was keeping you grounded from floating away and never being seen again. Your mind was still a bit foggy on things as you gently pushed Kafka back.

“How long was I out?”

“Days… at least two or three.” He answers, his face clearly worried. It was also clear he hadn’t slept, dark circles had formed beneath his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine… a bit sore.” You answered as he sat on the side of your hospital bed and sighed out in relief.

“I was worried.” He said, forcing a small smile on his face. He was still worried as you winced slightly, pushing down your blanket and inspecting the bandage across your midsection. His eyes followed your movements and when you looked up at him he had this intensely worried look on his face.

“I’m fine, Kafka.” You implored as his eyes snapped up to yours. He nodded his head and swallowed.

“Do you… remember anything? Anything at all?” He asks. You blink a few times, pursing your lips.

“I remember you… being there? Did you save me?” You ask, trying hard to recall what exactly had happened. You retraced your steps as Kafka fumbled through his words.

“I--- yes-- I was… there… technically.” You remembered a kaiju swiping at you, you lost your gun in the scuffle. You recalled it grabbing you up and tossing you towards its open mouth but you never landed in there but rather on your feet on the concrete. You blinked a few times as things started to piece together.

“I saw… kaiju no. 8.” You said and watched Kafka’s face go pale white. “It…” you trailed off when you remembered its voice, remembering it grab you as you passed out. Remember saying a name. “You…” Your eyes snapped to Kafka’s. He looked stricken, scared and caught all at once. “Kafka… you… you’re-”

“Yes.” Kafka breathes out quickly. Like he’d been dying to tell you. “Yes… that was me.. I’m-”

“A kaiju.” You finished his sentence unblinking. You swallowed as Kafka’s lip trembled and he gave you a curt nod of the head. He looked embarrassed and guilty.

“I’m a monster… I wanted-- I wanted to wait until you woke up to- to turn myself in because I wanted… no I needed to know you were going to be okay. I needed to tell you that I-”

“Kafka,” You interrupted, shocked by this revelation. He looked at you with a pained expression.

“I promise I’ll turn myself in I just need to tell you that-”

“No!” You jerked up, wincing in pain.

“C-careful!” Kafka admonished, you reached for him, barely grabbing his shirt.

“Don’t turn yourself in. I-- I don’t want you to.” You stuttered painfully. Kafka’s lips parted wordlessly.

“What? I was sure you would want me to…”

“That’s the last thing I want.” You said, trying to wrap your head around this all. You tighten the hold on his shirt and look at him. “They would… kill you and turn you into a weapon, Kafka.” You say as Kafka looks down, nodding his head.

“I know that.”

“And you think I would want that for you?” You hissed as his eyes snap back up to yours, a shocked expression on his face.

“You… hate kaiju.”

“I don’t hate you. No matter what you are.” You said, yanking his shirt towards you as you wrapped him in a tight hug. “Don’t you dare turn yourself in.” You warned, he was stiff in your arms for only a few seconds before he completely melted, the fear and anxiety of you possibly hating him kept him up for days. He wrapped you in a hug and you felt him breathe out and relax, hands sliding across your back, gently gripping your shirt as he held onto you. You could tell then that he’d really expected a different outcome. He’d expected you to tell him to turn himself in. When you pulled back to say something his mouth pressed against yours, stopping your words and your thoughts. His arms were still around you as he kissed you tentatively.

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auraisereigh · 5 months ago

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"Feather"

Oneshot

Xaden Riorson x Scribe reader Request: Hi!! I'm dying for some Xaden X scribe reader fics 😭 anything you want. but preferably ones that will give me a cavity from how sweet and fluffy they are. wc: 5.7 ☆ no direct spoilers. i hope it's fluffy enough for you, i wrote it during my free time at my intern and i swear they gave me a headache, there is one woman so freaking mean to me :/ Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Feather as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names. (New girl for a story?)

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

A Featherly Request:

Being a scribe had its perks. The archives were quiet, I didn’t have to talk to many people, and there were enough books to keep me busy.

Today, I was on duty to assist cadets from other quadrants in case they needed anything.

It was a surprisingly quiet day, considering it was Saturday. Usually, it was much busier.

I was skimming through one of the older books when a tall shadow appeared in my vision. I didn’t have to look up to know it was Xaden Riorson.

The tall, shadowy figure—handsome, as always—stopped in front of my desk.

Over the last few weeks, he’d been coming in more often. Asking for books that I’m sure of he didn’t need.

I stood up from my chair, inclining my head in a small bow. His lips quirked upward at the gesture. Every time he did that, my heart raced a little faster.

"How can I help you?" I signed fluidly. I knew he understood sign language, and that he was capable of signing himself, but he rarely spoke. That deep, rumbling voice always made me feel fuzzy inside.

"Just a few books," he said, handing me a paper. Our hands brushed for a fraction of a second, and my heart leaped. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I scanned the list.

"Take your time, Feather," he said, using the nickname he’d given me—one that referenced a feathered quill.

I hurried down the aisles, searching for the books. They were easy to find, mostly study materials used by scribes, and they were all in the same aisle.

Not even ten minutes later, I returned with the requested books. Quietly, I handed them over to Xaden. He took them with ease.

"Amazing job, Feather," he said again, the nickname rolling off his tongue. The heat from my earlier blush crept up once more.

"No need to be flustered," he mused. "Though, I have to admit, those flushed cheeks suit you."

My heart skipped a beat, and I was sure it was racing now.

With a small smile, he walked away, leaving me breathless and flustered.

♡

A book date

It took Xaden weeks to convince me to go out with him. I preferred staying inside.

Every time he returned books to Basgiath, I would put them away and find little notes tucked inside—his handwriting surprisingly neat—asking if I’d like to go out with him. For weeks and weeks, I ignored them. Until finally… I said yes. Well, I signed it.

Which brings us to the here and now.

Xaden had originally suggested a lake. Though the idea was tempting, it felt too intimate for a first date. Instead, I suggested a library. Despite the fact that I already spent most of my time in one, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when I made the suggestion, the grin he gave me told me he was already scheming.

We walked through the cobbled streets of Aretia, a stark contrast to Basgiath. The people here were friendly, warm, the town itself bursting with life. He walked close beside me, but not too close—just enough for me to be aware of his presence.

I was taken aback when we stopped in front of a small but cozy-looking building. The window display was decorated with books on nearly every subject imaginable—fantasy, romance, knowledge, history, and more.

He held the door open for me. A real gentleman.

I stepped inside, the scent of parchment and ink wrapping around me like a warm embrace. The store was small but packed with books, filling every possible space. Near the cashier, I spotted a set of colorful bookmarks. I had to refrain from showing too much excitement.

I scoured the shelves, moving from genre to genre, until I found a book about two soulmates—one cursed to kill the other in every lifetime they met. The female spent lifetime after lifetime trying to break the curse, until finally, she succeeded.

The cover was a soft pink, a gold-foiled heart pierced by an arrow.

A shadow loomed over my shoulder, and I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

"So you like fairy tales?" Xaden mused.

"Only the ones with a happy ending," I replied, my voice soft.

I could feel the warmth of him behind me.

He chuckled, plucking the book gently from my grasp. When I looked up, I caught the rarest thing of all—a small, genuine smile.

"Wait outside," he said, a little too casually.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why?"

"Go." He nudged me toward the door, barely restraining a smirk.

Suspicious, but relenting, I stepped outside into the cool evening air.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bookstore, carrying a small bag with the shop’s logo—a quill wrapped around a scroll.

He handed it to me, looking almost… shy. Something you never saw on Xaden Riorson.

I peeked inside and felt my breath hitch.

Two books.

The fairytale novel I had picked out… and another one, a poetry collection. The cover featured two foxes curled up together. Inside was a matching bookmark, decorated with the same foxes.

I looked up at him, a genuine smile breaking across my face.

"Thank you, Xay," I said softly, looking him straight in the eye.

His lips curled into a slow smile. "I’m glad you like them," he murmured.

Then, with a gentle touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, brushing against my cheek, sending warmth all the way down to my toes.

♡

Stuck in history

I had read the same sentence at least ten times.

The history tome I was studying was one of many in Aretia, part of my personal goal to read all of them—to learn, to help the revolution. The problem? Some of these books were centuries old, written in language so dead, it was like deciphering a code.

The sound of a door opening pulled me from my thoughts.

Steam drifted into the room as Xaden stepped out of the bathroom, his hair damp, a towel slung around his neck.

"You're still reading that?" he asked, moving toward where I was sprawled upside down on his bed—his very soft, very silky bed.

"Some people just write in codes," I mumbled, barely stifling a yawn.

Xaden sighed as he gathered the scattered books, stacking them neatly on his desk.

"Maybe they only look like a dead language because you've been at it all day," he countered.

I waved him off, flipping back to the page I was struggling with. "I’m almost through this. If you let me read in peace, I’ll be done faster."

He huffed, clearly unconvinced.

Then, before I could react, he plucked the book right out of my hands.

"Wait—!"

Too late. He had already moved to his desk, slipping one of his daggers between the pages I had been reading to mark my spot.

Then, he turned back toward me.

I blinked up at him, still upside down.

"You’re done," he said firmly.

I sighed dramatically, but before I could argue, he sat on the bed beside me. My head was practically resting against his legs.

His hand reached out, tracing his fingers gently along my cheek.

"Get some rest," he murmured. "I don’t have patrol tomorrow."

The words softened something in my chest.

I adjusted my position, curling up more comfortably on the bed.

Xaden leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

I felt my eyes grow heavy. Sleep pulled at me.

Somewhere in the haze of near-sleep, I felt the weight of a thick blanket being draped over me. The fabric was soft, warm against my skin.

The bed dipped beside me.

I cracked my eyes open just slightly.

Xaden had settled in next to me, lying on his stomach, an arm tucked under his pillow. His other arm reached out, pulling me in close.

The warmth of him wrapped around me like a cocoon.

"Goodnight, Xay," I whispered into the quiet night.

"Goodnight, Feather," he murmured back.

Sleep claimed us both, the night bringing the kind of peace we rarely got to have.

♡

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riorsonhouse · 5 months ago

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thinking about being in the healers quadrant at Basgiath and meeting Xaden for the first time in when you're both first years because he got into a fight with some random cadet who was talking shit about the Marked Ones (he won, of course but the other cadet got him with his dagger).

when he walks into the quadrant he's almost expecting to be turned away but you usher him over to your station and try to make awkward small talk. your hands are nearly shaking as you try different tonics to help with pain and swelling. he takes it as fear for who he is, and he's getting more and more frustrated by it as the minutes tick by. really, you're nervous because you just passed your exam for this, you've never actually worked on a cadet, and and he's incredibly handsome.

he's about to speak up with some angry little quip about if you have an issue with Marked Ones or healing people in general, maybe you picked the wrong quadrant when you say something first,

"sorry i'm being so quiet i've never- this is sort of my first time healing-"

"one of us?" he cuts you off, his gaze hard. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you look up from your work to meet his gaze.

"what?"

it's then that you fully notice the relic spanning his left wrist all the way up to his neck. surprise glazes over your features.

"oh! no! that's not- i don't care about that. i just...i just meant your my first cadet i've worked on like...ever."

his eyes soften slightly, but he's still guarded.

"i follow the code of chricton, we are to aid anyone when they're in need. your relic doesn't change that."

you continue to work, forcing yourself to look away from his beautiful eyes (were those flecks of gold?). as you finish up you're quite proud of yourself because you nailed it. you bandage him up, and explain the after care to him, he listens intently.

it isn't until later that he's kicking himself because he never got your name and he has no real reason to back to the quadrant but he cannot stop thinking about you.

maybe because you're the first person he's encountered at Basgiath who doesn't look at him like he's beneath them, or maybe it's because you bit you bottom lip ever so slightly as you worked on him and it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. either way, he's 100% you're going to plague his thoughts for a very long time.

idek i think my brain has turned into nothing but fourth wing since i finished onyx storm like i cannot stop thinking about it!!!!! omg

#i love xaden riorson #like so much #fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #onyx storm #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson fanfic #xaden riorson #i don't think this counts as fanfic lol

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archivewriter1ont · 4 months ago

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Cadet Batch Incorrect Quotes

*Echo gets a call*

Hondo: Hello my friend!

Echo: HONDO?!

Hondo: Yes, that is my name! I have that information the knife guy wanted -- you know, the one he said you boys would pay quite handsomely for...

Cadet Wrecker: Who's that?

Echo: Wrecker, hold on, please, I'm talking. Okay, what Hondo?

Hondo:

Echo: Hondo...?

Hondo: That little disgustingly adorable squeaky voice -- you said that was the big guy?

Echo: Well, yes -- no -- not exactly. None of them are very big right now. Uh, what information?

Hondo: Oh, yes -- the information!! Actually... I believe it is too important for, you know, over the phone. So I shall deliver it in person!!

Kenobi: HONDO DON'T YOU --

Hondo: Kenobi! Metal Man, you are friends with my friends? Ha! I told you we are friends! I will be there within the hour! *cuts comm*

Echo:

Echo: Okay, we have one hour to either get out of here, change them back, or fake our own deaths.

Cadet Crosshair: What if we just kill the guy on the comm?

Kenobi:

Cody: *aghast* General!

Kenobi: I mean, it's not a terrible idea.

(Fic is here | Full deleted scene coming soon! In collaboration with Archivewriter99❤️)

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callsign-rogueone · 5 months ago

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unfit to serve

Sawyer Henrick x reader (peach!) words: 3.0k 🏷: no book spoilers, getting into october in the iron flame timeline. mentions of a self-inflicted wound (not described in detail / not shown "on screen"), everyone's least favorite infantry cadet makes an appearance, stalking / unhealthy obsession behaviors, sawyer to the rescue. I promise these two will figure their ish out, but today is not that day.

“There’s nothing we can do — nothing he’s done has been an explicit violation of the infantry code of conduct. I suggest you make it clear to him that you aren’t interested -- no more mixed signals. Now run along. Believe it or not, you have patients to attend to.”

“She really said that to you?” the younger healer asks, slack-jawed.

“Word for word.”

She looks both ways, leaning forward to whisper to you. “What a heinous bitch.”

You raise your hands in playful surrender. “You said it, not me. She’s the one person I won’t miss when I graduate.”

“Besides him.”

“Besides him,” you agree. “Alright. Your turn to go eat. I can hold down the fort for a while. Sawyer will be here in a bit, anyway.”

“Are you ever going to make a move on him? If I had a handsome rider boy making me jewelry in his free time, I’d definitely kiss him. And it would be so cute. It already is cute. Childhood friends to college sweethearts to cute old married couple. Just like the colonel and his wife!”

“I told you—”

“It’s just pretend,” she says, sighing, “I know. But don’t you want it to be real? Even a little bit?”

“Get out of here before I change my mind,” you say dryly, and she laughs, scampering off.

“See you in half an hour!”

Speak of the devil and he may appear. You’d hide, but it’s too late — you’ve already made eye contact. You pull your gaze away, down to the bloodied towel he’s holding around his left arm. So he’s actually injured this time — but you really don’t feel like being behind a closed door with him, and going to ask one of the senior healers to do it for you wouldn’t be a great idea. It feels like they’re already out to get you.

Thankfully there’s supplies in every room here, including the intake area.

You nod to one of the chairs, turning to wash your hands. “Have a seat.”

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he starts, sitting down. “How have you been?”

“Well, thank you.”

No details, no extra pleasantries -- no information he could use to keep the conversation going, or to be creepy about at a later date.

He lays his arm across the table, unwrapping the towel. It’s not gushing blood, thankfully, but it’s a nasty scratch that will definitely need stitches. You turn to scratch out a note, needing a break from his stare. Friday October 5th, 634 -- 11:20am. Laceration, left forearm, ≈4 inches long, ¼ in deep.

It occurs to you that all the injuries you’ve treated for him, bar the first one, have been to his left side. You flip back through the thickened folder that holds his records, confirming; left arm, left leg, left side, left leg, left arm… And the times… 9:07, 8:19, 7:45, 9:24, 8:21… always when you’re on shift. Once is an incidence, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern, but five? Five is getting toward concrete proof.

“James,” you ask gently, and he perks right up — you never call him by his name, one of the lines you’d attempted to draw that he’d breezed right past without even noticing. “Can you tell me how this happened?”

He blinks at you for a second before he makes a recovery that isn’t as smooth as he thinks it is. “I was helping some of the first years with sword fighting. They’re pretty good.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, looking back at the wound. You’ve held a sword before — not that you know how to use it — but if he was in a proper stance, using two hands, they would have come down against his right arm, not his left, and it wouldn’t have been so straight, or so deep. This wasn’t sideways pressure, but downward, into the muscle.

But he wouldn’t… Would he?

“I’m just concerned about you, is all,” you say carefully. “You’ve been in here a lot lately.” You tap the folder with a fingernail to illustrate your point.

You really don’t know where to go with this, but you’re letting him steer the conversation, to see what he’ll tell you. You’ve watched the older healers do this dozens of times; empathize with the first complaint and wait to see if they tell you something serious. You’d fallen for it yourself once as a younger cadet, having mentioned how tired you were that week — and then when Winifred asked more questions, and you told her that you’d been having dizzy spells, you were promptly whisked away for examination and given supplements to take. You felt perfectly fine again within three days.

“Occupational hazards,” he offers with a smile.

“Yeah,” you reply distantly. “Guess so.” You’re just jumping to conclusions. There’s no way that he did this to himself. It would hurt like hell, for a start. But he doesn’t show any signs of discomfort, smiling at you even as you apply the extra-strong disinfectant that you’ve seen make even the toughest riders wince. You press near the edge of the wound with a gentle fingertip — no reaction to that, either. He remains completely straight-faced, his eyes not leaving yours.

He takes advantage of the lull in the conversation, changing the subject. “Did you get my letter?” He looks genuinely eager, and for a moment you almost feel guilty for letting Sawyer have Sliseag torch it.

“I did,” you answer, regretting it immediately when you realize that you just confirmed which room you sleep in. “James… I’m sorry, but this isn’t happening. And I’ve told you before, I already have a boyfriend.”

He laughs. “That rider friend of yours? Please. You do know that he was held back a year, right? Couldn’t hack it the first time, so they made him start over again. I guess the second time’s the charm, not the third.”

Your jaw clenches, but you remain silent.

“You deserve better than some second-pick farm boy, anyway. What you need is stability,” he offers. “Someone who has enough so you won’t have to work, and who won’t be in service for the rest of their life — and won’t break their neck falling off a dragon, and leave you to raise the kids alone.”

You can’t hold it back. “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I want, because you’ve never bothered to ask, and you certainly don’t know what I need. I made my choice, and I love him. I’m sorry that you don’t understand, but you don’t have to.”

He sighs. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop playing hard to get? I’m tired of this game. And it’s such a bitch to change bandages every time I shower.”

He thinks this is all a game?

So you were right, after all.

“You did this yourself?”

“Of course I did. They were turning me away when I needed anything less than stitches, so I didn’t really have a choice.”

There’s a soft rustle from the other side of the room, and you come back to your senses just in time to see someone slip down the hallway, a blur of black and auburn. That can only be Sawyer. Did he hear all of that? If the gods haven’t forgotten about you, then he did, and he’s going to get… someone. But will the older healers even believe him, after they’d dismissed your complaints weeks ago? And what are you supposed to do in the meantime, sitting alone with him?

Finish stitching, you suppose. The bleeding has slowed to a trickle, and he’d made a clean cut, so it’ll be easy enough. You occupy yourself with preparing your supplies, hoping he won’t press you further — you still haven’t responded to his question, or expressed any reaction to what he just told you.

Thankfully he seems content to just be sitting in your presence, but the feeling of his eyes on you is incredibly unsettling — like you’re being watched by a wolf who’s ready to strike.

But a wolf would only kill out of necessity, and make it quick. Men like to play with their food.

Just breathe. The odds of someone walking in right now are pretty high, and if it’s anyone but his two infantry friends, you’ll be safe physically.

You just need to tell someone what he told you. Someone with authority.

“Cadet Lowen,” the mender greets, and you stand too quickly, hands behind your back in the position of attention.

“Colonel Colbersy,” you reply, trying not to sound too relieved. Caleb is with him. He’ll believe you. He has to.

The mender looks exhausted, and so he, but they still offer James disarming smiles. “Let's get you fixed up, son. Come back to my office.”

As soon as he’s turned away from you, you catch the healer by the elbow, signing — he did it. hurt himself.

Caleb nods. Your rider told me.

You press the file into his hands, continuing. Five times.

His eyes widen.

Because of me.

His lips part to speak, but Nolon beckons him forward, steering James through the double doors leading to the exam rooms. You hold your breath until he’s out of sight, releasing it in a soft shudder as soon as they’re gone.

You strip off the healer’s robes with trembling hands, tossing them aside carelessly and striding toward the sink. You finally start to cry, your vision blurring with tears as you lather up to your elbows, desperate to get this terrible feeling off of you.

“Peach,” Sawyer begins delicately, laying a hand on your arm to stop you from scrubbing your skin raw, and you flinch away.

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want to be touched right now,” you sniff.

He retracts his hand immediately. “I understand. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

“No,” you whisper, watching the water run, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He leans against the counter beside you, a few feet away, speaking softly. “From what I saw, you handled that incredibly well. And you did the right thing. The leadership is going to get him help.”

You nod numbly, rinsing the soap from your skin and turning the tap off. He hands you a towel, and you take it silently, drying your hands. You feel like you need a full shower after the last ten minutes, your skin still feeling unclean despite being washed thoroughly with soap and water — maybe too thoroughly. Your hands feel dry and irritated, stinging from the steaming water you’d used.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around all of this. “He was injuring himself because of me. Because he wanted an excuse to see me.”

Sawyer doesn’t hesitate with his response. “He did those things because he’s unwell. None of this was your fault, peach. I need you to understand that.”

You don’t respond, still wrestling with the guilt, wracking your brain to think of anything you could have done differently. But if he hadn’t gotten so attached to you, would he have become obsessed with another of your classmates instead? Any girl who smiled at him and listened when he spoke, like all healers are instructed to? Would another girl have accepted his advances, and unknowingly walked into his trap? What would he have done if she realized who he really was inside and decided she wanted out?

“Lowen,” the colonel says gently.

You look up at him through teary eyes, placing your hands behind your back again — regretting taking off your robe. “Yes, sir?”

“You did the right thing. He’s going to be declared unfit to serve, and he’ll get the help he needs.”

You nod quietly, not sure what to say.

“I’m grateful that your friend found me before anything else could happen. And I’m sorry that I hadn’t had a proper handle on this situation until now. I hadn’t realized how serious it was. Take tomorrow off, and get some rest. I need my best third-year in good condition,” he says warmly.

The compliment doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually would — you just feel numb, hollow except for the guilt churning in your stomach that still hasn’t gone away. “Thank you, sir.”

You remain at attention until he leaves, disappearing back down the hall to whence he came.

You look up at Sawyer. “I’ll be okay,” you say softly. “He’s right, I just need to wash it off.” Literally. You’ll take the longest shower of your life, and probably cry again, and that will help — hopefully. “Thank you. For all of this. If you hadn’t been there to see me… I’m just so relieved that this is over.”

“Of course, sweet girl.” He picks up your hastily-discarded robe, draping it over his arm. “Let’s get you out of here, hm?”

“I still need to clean up and do some paperwork,” you say softly. “You go on ahead— I don’t want you to be late for class, and I’ll be fine to walk back on my own now that he’s gone.”

“Okay,” he responds quietly.

You take the robe back from him. “Tell the others I say hi.”

“I will,” he promises, still lingering.

You offer him a sad smile, starting to clean up the supplies you’d used. You’ll need to wash your hands yet again after this, but you need to occupy yourself with something or you’re going to start crying again — and you can’t bear to watch Sawyer leave right now.

Hearing his footsteps retreat is hard enough.

Sleep doesn’t come easily to either of you that night — you both lie awake for a while in your matching beds across campus from one another, thinking about the day’s events, and wondering what this will mean for you and your little ruse of a relationship.

——————

“It’s almost eleven thirty, dude. Scoot,” Ridoc reminds, but Sawyer makes no move to leave. “Okay, something is definitely up with you. Spit.”

“James is being declared unfit to serve,” he answers tiredly, still looking at his textbook. “Turns out he was injuring himself just to have an excuse to see her.”

There’s a collective inhale from the table. “Yikes.”

Rhiannon looks at him, confused. “So he’s finally going to be out of her hair. That’s good — why are you so bummed?”

“She doesn’t need me anymore.”

Oh.

There’s a short silence before his friends jump in to help. “Did she tell you that?” Violet asks.

“She thanked me for everything, and said she’d be fine on her own. This whole thing was supposed to get him out of her hair, and now he’s getting discharged, so the logical conclusion is that it’s over.”

“So that’s a no,” Ridoc says. “Got it.”

Sawyer ignores him, continuing to scratch out notes half-heartedly.

“You don’t have to stop seeing her, you just might stop the boyfriend stuff for a while,” Violet reasons.

He finally looks up at them. “I can’t.”

Three sets of eyes blink back at him, confused.

He sighs, shutting the textbook. “You don’t get it, guys, I’m screwed. So, so screwed. I look at her and I just want to take care of her. It’s been like this ever since I saw her again at land-nav. When she told us about that infantry creep, I was ready to go over there and knock his fucking teeth out, but she looked so scared that all I wanted to do was hold her, because she is so good and pure-hearted and she doesn’t deserve to be scared or in pain, ever. And now that we started this whole fake-boyfriend thing, and I get to take her out to town and pick her flowers and all that, I can’t just stop and go back to being friends. I want to do that stuff for her forever, but I know she doesn’t want anything real with me, and even if she did, in less than a year she’s gonna graduate and leave to gods-know-where, and it’ll all be over like that, all because I wasn’t good enough to be chosen at Threshing the first time around.”

“Okay, first of all, breathe,” Rhiannon instructs, “and quit the self-deprecation thing. That’s water under the bridge. If you hadn’t repeated, you wouldn’t have seen her at land-nav, and you wouldn’t have been able to protect her from that creep, because you wouldn’t even have known about him.”

The thought makes him feel sick. What would have happened if nobody had seen you with James yesterday and gotten help? If Sliseag hadn’t protected you in the forest? Would James have hurt you for declining his advances, or hurt himself again?

“Second, did she tell you that she doesn’t want you? Or are you just assuming?”

Sawyer is quiet in a way that the table interprets as another no.

Ridoc chimes in, never one to stay silent. “Just take her out again, drop some line about wishing this was real, and boom. Instant happily-ever-after. It was so easy for you guys to click again after two years apart — you can handle a year of long distance! And then if you get married, they have to station you together for the rest of your service,” he adds. “And they pay you more.”

Sawyer doesn’t look convinced. “I can’t just pretend that this never happened. I don’t want to. She’s fragile right now. The way she looked yesterday… I haven’t seen her cry like that in years. And she didn't want me to touch her, which isn’t like her at all. It was scary, honestly.”

“Poor girl,” Rhiannon frowns. “This all must have been traumatic for her.”

“So be there for her,” their newest squadmate stresses, finally speaking. “Keep showing up, and let her talk to you about all this. She doesn’t need a boyfriend right now, or a bodyguard, but she does need someone, and that should be you.”

Everyone turns to her, having forgotten she was there — she flushes at the attention, returning to her sketch.

Sawyer sighs. “Nolon gave her the day off today, but I might go by tomorrow and see her.”

#sawyer and peach #mine #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #sawyer henrick

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gloryofroses19 · 4 months ago

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But I Wanted More

Pairing: Aaric Graycastle x healer!OC (Dinah Halliwell)

Warning: Illusions to Aaric's true identity

Some days in the Healer Quadrant were quiet. Whereas others, like challenge days, were chaotic and hectic as the Riders bled for their place in the Quadrant.

Surveying the hustle of the infirmary, Dinah took a calming breath before calling out, “Cadet Graycastle?”

A muscular sandy brown haired figure startled at her call. With his broad back still facing her, she couldn’t help but marvel at how the sight didn’t phase her anymore. How many broad handsome cadets had she seen and lost in this very infirmary?

But as her eyes met his distinctive green, she realized she could still be phased. When she saw the name on the file, she thought of him. Thought of the boy who had always been Aaric to her despite everyone else calling him by another name. Aaric since he introduced himself to her in the quiet of the royal library years ago. Aaric who now made her wonder if she conjured him from her mind.

Yet, she had no magic and here he stood before her.

Like the last time they had seen each and yet entirely different. What was once two teenagers saying goodbye to their fanciful youth, wishing that they could be led by their hearts and not duty. But instead now stood two adults steeped in blood and choices.

“Follow me, please.” She instructed, turning and leading him to a quieter space.

“Sit on the right side.” Dinah opened the curtain and gestured for him to go inside. Nodding to her fellow second year, she busied herself collecting supplies. She knew it was useless trying to maintain a physical distance, because the familiarity of him was already reblooming buds of affection.

“I’m Cadet Halliwell. Can you tell me how you sustained this injury?” She had asked the only appropriate question as a million more were running through her mind.

The weight of his stare felt as heavy as his shock of seeing her and he did nothing to lighten it. His siblings had always joked that she was his imaginary friend, his person and nobody else’s. And they weren’t wrong, because all they ever caught were glimpses and echoes of his time with her.

“During a Challenge,” His voice gave off an air of laziness, however, his eyes were alert. His gaze was watching with the hope that she would look at him again. “The other guy pinned me down and it cracked.”

Making a noise of affirmation, Dinah barely had time to process before a large warm hand wrapped around her wrist. “I won by the way.” Aaric added haughtily, as a smile spread across his lips as she finally met his gaze again.

Unimpressed, though the corner of her lip raised offering a ghost of a smile. He had always been such a braggart around her, time hadn’t changed that apparently. “Congratulations” she replied sarcastically. “I apologize but if you want Professor Nolon to heal this quickly, you’ll have to go on the list.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

‘Princes and their fragile egos’, she thought. But looking at him in his black clothing that suited him more than the royal attire, she amended her original thought. ‘Riders and their fragile egos’.

“Then I’ll need my wrist back, Cadet.” Stressing his rank, she intended to remind him of her status. That she was a second year, his elder, and not a little girl. But she would be lying if she didn’t feel like a child. Like an insecure girl who had been trying to work the nerve to touch him. “I’ll splint it and you’ll need to not do anything strenuous for a few weeks for it to heal properly.”

A comfortable silence settled across the pair as Dinah worked in setting and splinting his wrist. Aaric’s gaze never wavering from her face as if trying to memorize it with the fear that she would disappear right before his eyes again. She had once been a weekly constant in his life, a weekly solstice before his father ruined another part of his life.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” His voice broke the silence as she neared completing her job.

Taking her time, she secured the final bandage before replying flatly.“Why would I? We don't know each other, Cadet Graycastle.” She paused waiting until the other healer and patient left. Then she regarded him with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “And if we did, I would tell you that your last name is very unimaginative.”

Chuckling to himself, Aaric's chest ached with sorrow for how much he missed her all these years. “My mistake, you look like a girl I used to know.” He admitted, his voice softening with each word.

Looking into his emerald eyes, Dinah longed to spend more time with him. Longed to hear how he had been all these years and why he ended up here. But longing for more time together had always been their way. “Mmm this sounds like the start of a bad pickup line.”

“Do you want me to pick you up, Halliwell?” Aaric breathed, smirking at her.

“Keep it dry when you can and here is some salve for the pain,” Placing a ceramic jar next to his hand, Dinah leaned in and then whispered, “Your highness.”

Dinah watched as his gaze dropped to her lips realizing too late how her breath hitched. How gone was the boy who blushed when their hands brushed each other over books and tea.

“It's nice to see you too, Di.” Aaric said with a chuckle, slowly standing up. Since their parting, he sometimes did think she was his imaginary friend. That someone so warm and bright couldn't have been more than a fictious being crafted by his subconscious. That try as he might, the sound of her voice and warmth of her laughter had begun to fade. But as he looked down at the woman she had become, he knew this time together had marked him anew.

Watching him walk toward the curtain, Dinah couldn’t help but call out to him. “Shouldn’t you warn me not to blow your cover?”

Aaric leveled her a skeptical look, his emerald eyes narrowing in mockery. “Why should I? We don’t know each other, remember?”

A/N: I'm trying the OC route, so I appreciate any and all feedback! Song Inspiration: Marigolds by Andrea Bejar (acoustic version)

#aaric graycastle x oc #fourth wing fanfic #aaric graycastle x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing x you #cam tauri x reader #aaric x reader #cam tauri x you

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sentientcave · 1 year ago

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Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter Two - An Understanding

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Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”

“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”

“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.

The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.

“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”

Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”

“It wasn’t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”

The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”

Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”

“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."

"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."

"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."

Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."

Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.

"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"

A loaded question. "Well. Not really."

"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."

"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."

John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."

"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.

He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."

"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"

He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."

"I'll find a new job. I always do."

"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."

You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."

John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"

A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"

"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”

If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.

“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”

“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.

The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”

“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”

“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.

“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.

Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."

“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.

“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Isn’t she just?”

“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.

You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.

"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."

You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"

"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"

You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.

“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”

“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”

The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.

The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.

“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”

John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.

“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”

“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”

“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”

“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”

“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.

“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.

“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.

Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”

They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”

"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."

At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.

Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.

John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.

Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.

There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.

“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.

“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.

“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”

He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”

"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."

"And the student loans?"

"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"

"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.

You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"

"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"

You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.

"Can I think about it?" you ask.

"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"

You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.

Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.

“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.

“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”

“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”

“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”

“I’m not his people.”

John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”

A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.

"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”

There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.

You’re worried that he might be right.

My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Retirement Party #Chapter 2 baybeee #Doll is coming to terms with the weirdest situation she's ever been in #cod mw fanfiction #John Price x Reader #x reader #Some hints of Poly 141 (I think it'll crop up properly later on)#Gaz wearing his kiss the cook apron wondering why Doll's not kissing him ): (It's because you kidnapped her)#Johnny never change baby boy you're a dog and we love that about you

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eery-lir · 2 years ago

Text

Bounty Girl 2

Koby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Contents: soft smut

Part One

For months, Koby remains on your mind. You keep thinking about how his lips felt, and how he tasted on your tongue. You're curious about his surgery scars and if what you felt was correct. Koby being trans wouldn't affect how you feel about him, not in the slightest. He seemed so nervous about you finding out though, back in that cell block.

You had guided your crew into a port town. As your crew docks on the outskirts of the harbor, your heart skips a beat as you catch sight of a familiar Marine vessel from the corner of your eye. You see the insignia of your beloved cadet's division on the hull, and another piece of you comes back to life. A piece that you only ignited when you were alone in your cabin.

You smile to yourself, making plans to visit the bar on the waterfront that night, hoping that Koby would be there. You decide to spend time in the town without your crew for the day, wanting to see if fate will once again lead you back to your marine's embrace. As you leave the docks, you hurry over to the most popular bar, the whole port is bustling with marines and you hope to whatever God will listen that you aren't caught again.

You enter The Watering Hole, just as the sun is setting. There's a decent mix of people in the crowd. Traders, merchants, fishermen and plenty of marines. You scan the mess of people for a familiar face, and your heart stutters when I catch a glimpse of pink hair. Koby's sitting at the bar with another marine, a blonde with an awful haircut. You move to take a seat at a table in the corner where he won't notice you. Your eyes soak in his appearance, he's gotten a bit leaner in the months that have passed.

The bar is busy this time of night, but your eyes are set on your target. You watch as Koby chats with the other marine, his expression and body language relaxed. He smiles and laughs along with the man, and you feel a pang of jealousy in your stomach. You scold yourself for your childish thoughts.

You continue to admire him and notice that although he's gotten leaner, he's also grown in many ways. His eyes seem to sparkle more, and there is a confidence to his demeanor. He still looks like the same Koby that you remember, yet something about him feels... transformed.

You watch from across the room, feeling the heat in your cheeks as your heart flutters.

His tie has been loosened and he sips from a glass of what looks to be beer. He talks casually with his friend, his smile making your stomach turn. He could light up a whole room with that smile, and yet he doesn't seem to know just how handsome he is. You finally build your courage and flag down a waitress. You order Koby a drink and tell the waitress to let him know it's from you.

You keep watching him talk so excitedly with his fellow marine. It's refreshing to see him happy, and it makes your mind go back to the first day you met.

As the waitress leaves an icy cold beer in front of Koby, you watch his mouth form an expression of confusion. The waitress tells him that the drink is from you, and Koby looks around the room before his eyes find on you.

He stares wide eyed, not quite believing that you are actually here again. You give him a cheeky smile and your heart jumps.

He stares back, the look on his face a mix of confusion, disbelief, and surprise. His eyes go back to his glass of beer as he takes a sip, and you wonder what thoughts are going through his head.

He glances back, the look on his face softening slightly as he sees your expression. He slowly stands up, saying something to the marine next to him and moves across the bar to the table where you are sitting.

He stands in front of you, his gaze fixed on yours as he tries to understand the situation he is placed in. "You've... you've come back?"

"Don't look so shocked, pretty boy. I told you we'd meet again, didn't I?" You look up at him, he's as handsome as ever and you can't control the smile that spreads on your face

He stares down, his heart racing as he takes in your face again for the first time since the day you escaped. You're even more beautiful than his imagination could ever hope to conjure, and he feels the butterflies dancing in his belly.

"W-Why have you come back?" He asks, his voice no more than a whisper. "I thought... I thought that might have been the end of it."

He can't help but flush as he looks down at you, his mind racing with the possibilities. There's hope in his gaze, but also a little fear.

I shrug a bit, glancing down at the table. I can't form a proper answer, at least not one that isn't just "I wanted to"

"I'm not sure, I guess… I just wanted to see your face again."

Your words are barely audible, but they hold a world of meaning to your beloved cadet. The sound of your voice sends a thrill through his soul, and he can't help but stare as he tries to understand why you have come back.

"I can't believe you're here," he whispers, "I thought that I would never get to see you again."

His gaze sweeps over your features as if making sure you're real. You realize that you didn't actually say goodbye, but you also haven't said hello again either. Your relationship feels as if it hangs in the balance.

You reach your hand up and grab his wrist, you notice a few marines staring, and you quickly turn away from the crowd. Hiding your face with your hair.

"I'd love to keep chatting, but your coworkers seem to have noticed us. If I book a hotel room, do you promise to meet me there?" You let go of his wrist and looked up at Koby with pleading eyes. You feel so childish for being so enthralled with this man you barely know and met in a prison cell.

Koby looks down at you with a mix of surprise and shock. "You want me to meet you at a hotel?"

His voice is filled with excitement, and he seems more than willing to leave the bar. His face warms as he realizes the situation he is in, and he can't hide his excitement from you.

"Of course, I'll meet you there as soon as I can get away," he says, his tone almost as a whisper as his cheeks turn pink.

"Perfect, I'll be at the Blue Moon hotel, room number 60." You grin at him, feeling your stomach fluttering. You quickly get up, brushing past the cadet and making your way out of the bar, rushing to the hotel to book the room.

You get the key card from the desk clerk and once you're in the room, the weight of what could happen crashes against your girlish fantasies. Koby could reject you, he could turn you back over to the marines, he could betray your trust. Or, he could give you the best night of your life.

You hurry inside the room, feeling the excitement build as you realize the possibilities of the night ahead. You take in the details of the room, and notice the double bed with the freshly changed sheets.

Your body fills with nervousness as you imagine yourself in that bed with Koby, his arms wrapped around you. Your mind is flooded with a rush of hormones, and you struggle to keep your thoughts at bay.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Your heart races as you go to open the door, swallowing down your nervousness. As the wood creaks, you're greeted by Koby. He looks just as apprehensive as you feel, but he smiles as he sees you.

His heart falters in his chest, and his cheeks fill with blush as he looks at you. He stares, his body frozen by a mixture of shock and arousal. Koby's eyes drift down toward your neck, and he sees the slight flush of color there. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

You back into the room as he enters, you can't help but reach out and pull him by his tie, just like before. You tug his body against yours, and look up at him. Your eyes fill with mischief, silently daring him to kiss you first this time.

He can feel your breath on his neck. His thoughts go back to the kiss in the jail cell, and his body begins to respond.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and then his lips find yours. His kiss is filled with passion and desire, and he holds you close as he melts into your touch.

Your hands instinctively cup his jaw, then move to tangle in his hair. You lick his lips, and Koby obediently opens his mouth. Your tongue fills his mouth, and each sensation sends a rush of heat through his body. He pulls you closer, holding you tightly and embracing the heat of your bodies together. The sound of your kissing fills the room, the feeling of your wet lips taking him over the edge. He feels your fingernails scratching the back of his head, and he reaches a hand up to touch the curves of your body. His free hand runs down your back, and his fingers make their way to the hem of your shirt.

You pull back from the kiss, reaching up to pluck his glasses from his face. He goes to say something, but closes his mouth just as soon as it opens. You gently place the glasses on the dresser next to you and take his hand to lead him to the bed. You push him down by his shoulders so he's sitting at the edge, his body relaxes against the soft sheets and he looks up at you. Your hands run over his chest, and you feel those scars through the fabric of his shirt again. Koby tenses up as you trace them, you look down at him and his eyes go wide as he feels you trace the lines, he tenses and waits for the worst.

But your kiss comes, and he is filled with a sense of relief. He lets himself melt into you, and he pulls you close as he returns the kiss with fervor. Fingers still playing with the hem of your shirt, unsure of himself.

Your hands move to work at trying to undo his tie. You maneuver yourself to straddle him, caging him against the bed. You get more and more frustrated as you fiddle with his stupid tie.

Your frustration grows, and your body begins to heat up. You wriggle yourself close to his body, and he can feel the warmth of your skin. Your lips move down to where his tie is, your mouth finding his collar as you use your teeth to help with the stubborn knot.

Koby stutters, the feeling of your hot breath on his throat sends shivers up his spine. You finally get the knot loose and pull his tie off, throwing it to the floor triumphantly. Your hands start to unbutton his uniform, and lean closer to trace your lips against his jaw. Koby's heart flutters as you speak "You're so pretty you know that? You're more handsome than any man I've ever seen."

His breath catches in his throat when you call him "pretty". He has never been described as such before, and he feels a rush of emotions.

"I..." He struggles to find the right words, his thoughts and senses overwhelmed by your presence. "You're... you're beautiful beyond compare."

His words have your heart trembling and lighting something even lower. You finally get the last button of his shirt undone and push the fabric off his narrow shoulders. You can't help but blush as you rake your eyes over his pale skin. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel a throbbing sensation in your cunt. Koby doesn't meet your eyes, the wall behind seems much more interesting to him as he waits for you to reject him. He's worried that the revelation of his past will drive you away.

But you don't care. It doesn't change your feelings for him, or how you see him. In fact, it makes him even more endearing in your eyes. He's something new, something softer, and kinder than traditional men.

As your fingers brush against his scars, you lean in and kiss one of them, your lips grazing lightly against the raised pink skin. The scars are jagged, and seem to have been poorly cut. Your heart aches at the pain he must have gone through.

You slowly push him back against the bed, his back hits the mattress with a soft thud. His breath catches in his chest and you can almost hear his heartbeat. Your lips find his neck, and you begin to suck bruises into his soft skin. His hands tug at your shirt, and he whimpers helplessly.

"Not so high.. I don't– I don't want to get in trouble."

You smile and move lower, he trembles as you nip the skin on his collarbone. His hands tug at your shirt again, his desperation becoming more and more clear. He can't handle the sensations racing through his body, and he whimpers as he can feel your teeth digging into him. You can hear his breath coming in short, rapid bursts as his body responds to you.

Your hands move down his torso to explore his scars, and your fingers begin to lightly caress them. You can feel the tension in him grow stronger with your touch, and you can tell that it's making a difference.

You ghost your fingers over his nipples, teasing and circling them as you feel his reaction to your touch. His breath comes out in a sharp hiss, his body trembling slightly as he fights for control. You drink in his moans, then shift to press your thigh between his legs. Koby jumps as feels the friction, a whine rumbling in his throat. He pulls your shirt up, and his soft fingers rub at the skin over your ribs.

He wants your shirt off, and you know it, but you want to see how far you can push him before he takes a bit of control. Your legs settle on either side of his thigh, and the weight of your body makes him moan. He can feel the heat of your arousal, and he shudders with the intense sensation of it.

Koby looks up at you, making soft and quiet little sounds as the tension leaves his body. You begin to sink down, sliding off his thigh and kneeling on the floor in front of Koby. You glance up at him, his whole torso is flushed pink and the color accentuates the deep purple bruises on his chest.

"Can I make you feel good sweetheart?" You smirk, your own arousal growing as you stare into his eyes. Your hands grip the outside of his thighs, and you eagerly wait for him to tell you yes.

His heart is threatening to beat out of his chest, he lets out a shaky sigh and looks away from you.

"I'm- I'm not. I don't-" Koby stutters trying to find the words to explain what you already know.

"I know, baby. I don't care. I wanna make you feel good, and I know you can make me feel good too." You rub circles into his thighs and smile softly at him.

He's still a nervous wreck, but he finally looks at you again. "I don't know how."

"I'll teach you. Just tell me if you want to stop." Your words are soothing, and he nods lightly.

"Can you- can… I want to see you- Your body. I want to see your body too." Koby gets a stride of confidence with his last sentence and your gentle smile stretches into a wicked smirk.

"Of course, sweet boy."

You stand up, and his eyes follow you. Your shirt comes off first, meeting Koby's on the floor. Then you work your way out of your bra, his eyes burning with desire as familiarizes himself with your skin.

Koby bites his bottom lip and can't help but stare at your tits as you throw your bra to the floor. He swallows hard and props himself up on his elbows.

"Like what you see?" You tease a bit and push your tits up before letting them fall with a bounce.

"Yes." He says with no hesitation, eyes flicking up to yours. You lean over him, placing your hands on either side of his waist and start to crawl up his body.

Using your hand, you push him back down on the bed. His eyes move from yours and stare at your exposed skin once more. You straddle his hips and grab his wrists, he seems so fragile underneath you.

Koby allows you to guide his hands over your boobs, he trembles as his soft palms meet your skin.

"Squeeze them a little." your voice is just above a whisper and he obeys. He kneads the skin in his hands, entranced with the feeling. You sigh as his touch sends sparks through your body. Your hands relax against his, allowing him to have free reign over his movements.

He uses his thumbs to rub over your nipples, watching them pebble at the attention they're getting. Koby seems completely entranced with the feeling of your tits in his hands.

You lean down and kiss him again, rocking your hips against his. He whimpers at the friction on his cunt, and you smile.

"Can I take your clothes off?" You cup his cheek in one hand, and your words are gentle. He nods nervously, and you peck his lips in reassurance before sliding down his body.

You hook your fingers into the hem of his pants and boxers then slide them down his thighs, they meet with the rest of your clothes on the floor. He watches cautiously, and as his pretty pussy is exposed, you feel your own ache.

"Fuck baby, you're so pretty." You whisper and his whole body heats up at your words. "Can I touch you?"

"Please." He whimpers, barely a second after your words.

Your fingers trace his thighs and he tenses, you rub soothing circles and practically gawk at his drooling cunt. You press a finger between his folds and collect his slick. Koby's whole body jolts as if he was shocked, a loud gasp emitting from his throat.

"It's okay baby, let me take care of you." You suck his slick from your finger and he whines. You can almost see his clit throb at your actions.

The room is soon filled with moans, the sticky sounds of slick, and wet kisses. Your fingers open him up, and curl inside his cunt, then he's cumming on them soon enough. You soothe his body and kiss him until he's done twitching.

Koby begs you to teach him how to touch you.

You guide his hand, show him how to rub your clit, and how to dip his fingers into your needy pussy. He watches with fascination as he experiments with his fingers. He's a fast learner and quickly notes how your body reacts.

It isn't long before your back arches and short gasps leave your mouth, Koby rubs fast circles on your clit as his fingers work overtime on your sweet spot. You gush onto his fingers with a long whine, and he watches in awe as you come down from you high.

You lay next to each other, both of you breathless and exhausted. Your bodies are pressed together, still feeling the after effects of the night before.

At that moment, it feels like time has stood still. The two of you are alone together, and the world outside the four walls of the room might as well not even exist.

You feel satisfied, your body exhausted but the feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins. The sound of his breathing makes you feel safe, the smell of his skin the sweetest perfume you've ever known.

After a long pause of silence, both of your heartbeats even out and your breathing slows. Koby moves to get out of bed, and you grab his wrist, not wanting him to go.

"Where are you going?" you whisper in the silence as he prepares to leave. You can't bear to let go of him, not yet.

He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes causes you to shudder, the feeling of his gaze almost too much to bear.

He doesn't move to get out of bed, instead choosing to sit down beside you and pull you close. He wraps his arms around your waist, his breath tickling your ear.

"I don't want you to leave. I just got you back." You whisper against his neck. You know he has to go, he has to get back to the marine ship, he can't stay even if you weren't a pirate.

Your words fill him with the tiniest flicker of hope, but he knows it would be impossible for him to stay.

"I... I have to go," he says, his voice soft and almost a whisper. His arms hold you tight, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer.

"The ship is going back to the base, I can't just not show up," he says, his words filled with conflict. He wants to stay, but he can't ignore his responsibilities either.

You whine a bit, then pull back to look into his eyes. You stare as though you'll never see him again, and for all you know that might be true. You absorb his features, drinking him in, admiring his soft skin, blue eyes and plush lips. Your hand moves to brush through his pink hair. "What if... What if you came with me?"

His heart melts as you stare into his eyes, studying them as if he were an exotic and rare creature.

"W-what if I came with you?" he whispers. The notion sends a jolt of panic through him, but there's also a slight flicker of hope. "Y-you want me to come with you?"

A wave of emotions crashes through him, and he takes in your expression in the dim light. You want him to come with you? He can't believe his ears.

A look of uncertainty crosses his face, as he worries that he's somehow misinterpreting your words. "W-what about the marines? I... I can't abandon them," he says in an unsure tone.

He looks at you, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. He's clearly torn between his duty and his desire.

You look down at the sheets, you know it's too much to ask of him. "You're right.. I'm sorry."

"It's...it's fine," he says softly. You can tell that his response is a bit half-hearted, that he wants to be with you but knows that he can't put you before his duties.

He gives your hand a squeeze, trying to offer you what comfort he can. And in that moment, he realizes just how strong his feelings for you are. He can't believe how much he hurt at the thought of refusing you.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks softly after a moment. You nod, looking up at him. "Mhm?"

He looks at you intently. "Do...do you love me?"

It's a loaded question, and you can tell that he's struggling to find the words. He looks down at you, the desire in his eyes making his words feel all the more important. He can't bear the thought of leaving you, not after everything you've shared tonight. And if you love him, maybe there might be a way.

"If you love me, maybe I can stay.. I don't want to leave you so soon... and not when we're like this," he whispers.

Your heart wrenches at his words, and you ponder for a moment. "Koby, I-.." You pause, searching for the words. You met him once, months ago, this is the first night you've shared together, perhaps the only one you'll get. You want to say yes, you want to tell him that you love him and live in the fairytale you've made in your head. You know you can't though, he's a marine and you're a pirate. You need to put your girlish dreams aside and look at the bigger picture. "Koby, I don't know."

His heart breaks when you speak, but he can't say he truly expected anything else. He feels empty in this moment, his body frozen and unable to say, or do anything.

"I understand... it's okay," he says softly. You can tell that his words are half hearted, and the disappointment in his expression is written all over his face. "What... what will happen to us now?" he asks after a moment. "Did this all mean nothing to you?"

"It meant everything to me. That's the problem." a sob racks through your body. "I can't have you, without one of us leaving the life we want to live." Your tears begin to fall hot and heavy down your cheeks

His eyes go wide when he sees your tears, and his lips curl downwards in sadness. He didn't want to get your hopes up, but he can't help but feel saddened by your response.

He squeezes your hand and then brings his up to your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "It meant everything to you, too?"

"I... I know... I want to say that I could give up the marines, the life that I've wanted for so long," he says with a sigh. "But I know it wouldn't be right…"

"Then don't.. What's the harm in having a little fun when you're off duty?" Your eyes trail his body, then flick back to his eyes.

You continue speaking, "When in bed with you, I'm not a pirate and you're not a marine. You're a man, and I'm a woman and we're two people having sex and loving one another." You bring your arm up to hold his hand on your cheek.

Your words cause his heart to pick up speed, and he looks deeply into your eyes. "You're… you're right," he whispers softly. "When we're here, when the world outside is gone, we're not a marine and a pirate. We're just two people together... having fun."

His body relaxes into you, his hand squeezing tightly against your cheek. In that moment, he doesn't want to ever leave your side. He wants to stay with you where the outside world can't exist.

If it's illegal for him and against the pirate code for you, then so be it. This feels too damn good to let go.

You begin to lay back down on the bed, pulling his wrist as you do. He goes along with you, laying back and you lay your head on his chest with your arms around him. You can feel the heat of his body, and his breathing slows down as the tension within him eases.

You nuzzle into his skin, your body pressed close against his. He feels safe in your arms, and you can feel his heart beating softly underneath your ear. You press your head against him, and he wraps his arms around you to hold you close.

Koby opens his eyes the next morning, the sun dances through the curtain and across his skin. He reaches next to him, the bed is empty. He stares at the empty space next to him, and his stomach drops when the realization hits him. You're gone.

He glances around the room, prepared to get dressed and have his walk of shame back to the ship. He goes to grab his glasses from the desk and notices a note beneath them. Koby smiles softly as he sees the lipstick stain you've so delicately signed it with.

His eyes skim the letter as he reads your words, and a slight blush creeps across his face. You didn't want to leave him so soon either, but you had your own path in life to follow. You hoped that maybe your paths would cross again in the future.

He reads the letter again and again, each time savoring the words.

Koby,

I'm not ready to let you go. We can still just be a man and woman, every few weeks. Your marine ship plans on docking in Mocha City, two weeks from today.

What a coincidence, since my crew plans on doing some trading there around the same time.

Meet me at the Sundae Inn, the same night you dock. If you don't want anything to do with me, disregard this letter.

Bounty Girl

He stares at the letter, the words hitting him with a strange mix of excitement and concern. What has he gotten himself into?

He knows that the Marines would never allow for something like this. He's supposed to be hunting pirates, not sleeping with one. And yet...

He smiles, knowing that he can't let you go either. It's too soon, and perhaps there's still a chance that there's more for you in this unlikely future.

Koby folds the letter up and puts it in his pocket as he prepares to go back to the marine ship.

#op koby #koby smut #koby x reader #captain koby #koby one piece #koby #One piece smut #One piece x reader #One piece #op x reader #op smut #opla #opla x reader #opla smut #Smut

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colonel-calebs-wife · 3 months ago

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🔞Minors do NOT INTERACT! 🔞

Themes: Jealousy, dominate MC, submissive Caleb, oral, P in V, married MC x Caleb, unprotected sex, Pet names- Pip-squeak, Miss Enforcer, Lovely Enforcer, use of curse words like whore

Prompt: Mc x colonel Caleb but they're married and Mc is jealous bc he's been receiving alot of attention from the new cadets. Mc claims him and she has control over him to show them that he belongs to her. + submissive Caleb

—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—

Caleb’s new cadets were celebrating their first successful mission. It perfectly coincided with the autumn banquet that Caleb invites you to every year. All the military officers were allowed to bring their spouses on the airship for their celebration. You were excited to meet his new cadets and see old friends.

You arrive earlier than expected, excited to surprise Caleb you don’t announce your arrival. You drop off your things in his room, and head down to the cafeteria. You see him at the table where the other high rank officers are on the other side of the cafeteria, you decide to sneak around the outskirts of the tables to avoid being spotted. While walking over you overhear some new cadets and hear “Ugh Colonel Caleb is so handsome”.

Curiosity, and a bit of jealously, get the best of you. So you decide to sit in a vacant seat one table over.

“It’s a shame he’s married.” Cadet one huffs.

Cadet two exclaimed “That doesn’t mean anything! You know how many officers are on their second marriages? And to their former cadets!”

Cadet one warns“I think it’s a bad idea, I can’t lie.”

“Bad ideas are how memories are made! I can’t get him out of my mind. I can just imagine what he’s like in the bedroom, dominate just like he is on the base! He doesn’t take orders from anyone, it’s so sexy.” Gushes Cadet two.

“So are you really gonna do it???” Cadet one excitedly ask.

“Yes! After he leaves to the banquet I am going to sneak into his office and put my confession on his desk!” Cadet two exclaims.

Well that won’t do. You think to yourself. I think I need to teach this little Cadet a lesson about disrespecting a marriage.

After meeting up with Caleb and his friends and chatting for a bit, Caleb returns to his office, to finish up some paperwork. He comes out the office to find you wait for him down the hall.

Caleb walks toward you and says“I hope you weren’t waiting too long Pip-squeak”before leaning in and giving you a kiss. Out of the corner of your eyes you see that little Cadet going into his office.

You grab Caleb’s arm, and pull him towards his office. “Woah! What’s going on Pip-squeak?”

“I missed you and I can’t wait another second” you tell him while slowly opening up the door of his office. You can hear the Cadet scurrying under his desk.

You look at Caleb and command him,“Lock the door”

Caleb imminently reply’s “Yes Miss Enforcer” while latching the door shut.

A mischievous grin forms on your face, looking at Caleb and praising him “Good boy.”

You come over and sit on-top of the desk, you can only imagine the panic that the young cadet must feel at this moment.

“Eat” you command, as you open your legs to reveal your bare cunt underneath your dress.

“At your command my Lovely Enforcer” Caleb gets on his knees, and uses his tongue to circle your clit. The warmth of his tongue feels so good, you grip his hair, pushing his head deeper into your cunt. The sensation of his tongue, spelling out your name. Sucking on your clit. It feels so good you almost cum on the spot, you grab his head and pull him away.

You instruct Caleb to “Open up your pants and go sit on your chair.”

Caleb walks toward his desk, and pulls out the chair. He opens up his pants to reveal his fully erect cock. Pre-cum already dripping out the tip, it’s obvious how much sexual pleasure he got from eating you out. He sits down eyes locked on you.

You make your way over to him, grabbing his throbbing cock, and slowly stroking it. Without breaking eye contact, you instruct him to“Keep it hard so I can cum, you’re not allowed to cum until I tell you, and that’s only after I cum first. Do you understand Colonel?”

Caleb is hardly able to breath, the sensation of your warm soft hands wrapped around his cock, was heavenly. He forces himself to answer“Yes… Miss Enforcer, please use me to cum… My… my body is yours.”

“I know it is. Do as you’re told and I’ll make sure you feel good too.”

“Thank you Miss Enforcer.” Caleb’s eyes lit up after hearing this.

You make sure to position yourself perfectly so that the little whore hiding under the desk can see you. Mounting Caleb’s erect cock. Slowly sliding down it inch by inch, hearing Caleb moan the deeper he goes inside of you.

The feeling of his cock filling you up, makes you moan too. You grind on him, to stimulate your clit. You grab his hands and place them on your ass, Caleb grips them, knowing this was your way of telling him to grope and slap your ass just the way you liked it.

You move up and down his cock, arms wrapped around his shoulder. His moans muffled by your hungry kisses, bitting his lower lip whenever you pulled away for a breath. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you. Only amplified by the ripples of shock sent up your body every time he slapped your ass. The sound only making you wetter, and mixing with the obscene noises produced by your love making.

The stimulation becoming too much for you to handle, your head jerking back as you moan his name “Caleb, ugh… cum with me! Fill me up!”

At your command, you feel Caleb’s hot semen filling your womb. The sweet sensation amplifies your own orgasm, drenching him in your juices.

“You were such a good boy today Colonel, here’s your reward.” You get up and collect the mixture of both of your fluids from your cunt. “Open up”

Caleb opens his mouth and you stick your fingers in. His eyes looking up at you as his tongue dances circles around your fingers. Making sure to suck up every drop of his reward. You remove your fingers and look at the sloppy mess of a colonel sitting in front of you.

Between pants, Caleb looks at you with his big purple puppy dog eyes and says “Thank you Miss Enforcer, I only serve you.”

You can only image the face that that stupid little Cadet must be making having watched and heard all of this. You can’t help but smile, grabbing Caleb’s face and kissing him once more before getting ready to leave. You lead him out, turning the corner. Then tell him “I forgot my purse wait here.”

You head back to see the poor little Cadet walking down the hallway. Her head down and tears dripping from her eyes. Holding a ripped envelope that you only can assume was her confession. You walk pass her, and can’t help but chuckle.

—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—

#love and deepspace #caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #lads #lads caleb #lads mc #caleb fanfic #caleb smut #🍎

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slytherin-pen · 22 days ago

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Not Like This

pairing: Liam Mairi x Reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: some drinking

tags: fem!reader, no use of y/n, Liam is the best boyfriend, reader cries but i think it’s still fluffy

a/n: my brain has been trying to switch to present tense for a while now so i’m embracing it. written for Liam Week day 1 @empyreanevents

The gathering hall is livelier than ever as riders dance, drink, and laugh. Your squad is packed together at one of the long tables, telling jokes and stories, and allowing yourselves to plan for the future—even if it is only a week in advance.

You’re not entirely sure how many lavender lemonades you’ve had. Three? Five? All you know is that Ridoc’s jokes sound a lot funnier than usual. Liam is glued to your side, his arm around the back of your chair, and every time you lean closer to him, his chest brushes your shoulder, sending little sparks skittering down your spine.

He’s had a few sips of his drink but he’s not letting go tonight. You’re disappointed but not surprised by this fact. Liam always has to remain on guard, even during his own graduation party.

Gods, he looks so good tonight. He’s wearing his fitted black uniform jacket, the two silver stars on his shoulder catching in the light. His hair is a little messy like he’s run his fingers through it a few too many times, and his scent of a sunny afternoon and salty breeze wraps around you in a heady haze.

“Liam,” you mumble, pressing closer to him, fingers skating across the edge of his jacket. “You’re so handsome tonight.”

He chuckles, low and warm. “Am I only handsome tonight?”

“You’re always handsome,” you insist, poking at his chest. “But tonight… even more so. Probably because I’ve had a lot of these.” You lift your empty cup, eyes wide and innocent.

He gives you one of his easy smiles and your stomach flips. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes locked on his lips. You want to kiss him, but your head is swimming, your thoughts moving like syrup through your mind. So you just lean in, tucking yourself under his arm, getting as close to him as you can without crawling under his skin.

“You’re so warm,” you sigh.

He presses his lips to your hair. “And you’re drunk,” he says, amusement dancing in his voice. “How many of those have you had, sweet girl?”

“Don’t know,” you say, nestling closer, your hand sliding over his thigh. “Enough to make me question if I really care about us having an audience.”

He just laughs, low and rough, and you feel the vibration of it under your ear. “Behave,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long he lets you cling to him, letting the overwhelming chatter wash over you both. Ridoc tells another ridiculous story about sparring with Imogen, this time with dramatic flourishes that have your head thrown back in laughter.

But then Ridoc stands up and grabs your hand, pulling you up. “Dance with me!” he cheers, already climbing onto the nearest empty table.

You’re laughing too hard to say no. “Okay!” you squeal, your balance wobbly as you let Ridoc haul you up beside him. There isn’t any real music, but a few cadets have grabbed some pots and spoons from the kitchen, and others have taken it upon themselves to sing an old song. You start dancing in time with the beat, Ridoc’s hands bracing you lightly.

You’re lost in the moment, the singing, the buzz of the alcohol—until your foot slips on a spilled drink, your body pitching forward. A yelp tears from your throat as you feel gravity take over, the table suddenly a mile below you.

But you never hit it.

Liam’s hands are at your hips in an instant, steady and strong, pulling you back against his chest. “Easy,” he says, voice low in your ear, but there’s a sharp edge there. “Enough of that.”

Your breath is coming fast, your hands gripping his arms as he eases you down to the floor. Ridoc just laughs, offering a sheepish shrug. “Sorry, Liam.”

“She’s done,” Liam says simply, not even looking at Ridoc as he keeps his hold on you.

You’re pouting up at him, lips parted. “Liam—”

He just shakes his head, brushing your hair back from your face. “No arguments,” he says, his voice gentling. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t wait for your agreement. He turns to your squad, who are all wearing varying expressions of amusement and concern. “Have fun,” he says, voice tight. “We’re calling it a night.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay longer, Liam?” Rhiannon teases, raising a brow.

Liam’s lips twitch, but his hand tightens around your waist. “I think we’ve had enough fun for one night,” he says, eyes softening as he looks at you. “It’s time to get someone to bed.”

You’re too drunk to argue, too lost in the warmth of his gaze. You lean into him as he leads you out of the gathering hall, your steps weaving a little. The commotion fades behind you the further away you get. Liam doesn’t speak as he guides you through the halls, one hand firm at your back. You’re aware of the way he smells, of the heat radiating from his body, and all you can think about is how much you want him. Every step, every breath, it’s like your entire body is tuned to the rhythm of his.

When you finally reach his room, he opens the door with a twist of his wrist and then kicks it closed behind you. The silence is immediate, the only sound is your panting breaths and the steps of his boots as he moves.

“Sit,” he says gently, guiding you to the edge of his bed. You comply, though your hands are already reaching for him. Grasping at his belt, his waistband, anything to pull him closer.

“Liam,” you murmur, your voice low and needy. “Want you.”

He kneels in front of you, cupping your face in his warm hands. “I know,” he says softly. “But let’s get you out of this uniform, yeah?”

You nod, a wave of dizziness washing over you, but you let him work. His fingers are deft as he unfastens your jacket, pulling it off your shoulders. He sets it aside neatly, then unbuttons your pants, his eyes never leaving yours.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear, the cool air of the room brushing against your flushed skin. You shiver, but not from the cold.

Liam stands, moving to his armoire. He pulls out one of his big, soft shirts that you love. He helps you into it, pulling it over your head and tugging it down to your thighs. It’s so big on you, and you bury your nose in the fabric, inhaling his scent.

“There,” he says softly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “Comfy?”

You nod, though your eyes are dark with want. “Comfy,” you echo, your hand sliding down to the waistband of his pants, fingers skimming the hard line of muscle there. “I need you, Liam.”

He stills, his breath hitching as your hand moves lower, cupping him through his pants. “Baby,” he says quietly, his voice suddenly taut. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” you whisper, your lip wobbling. “You don’t want me?”

His eyes soften instantly, his hands wrapping around your wrist, stilling your touch. “You know that’s not true,” he says, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I always want you.”

“Then why—?” The words break on a sob, the alcohol making your emotions burn too hot and too bright. Tears slip down your cheeks, your lip trembling.

“Because you’re drunk,” he says gently, his forehead dropping to yours. “And I won’t touch you like that when you can’t consent.”

“But I am consenting,” you protest, your voice small and broken. “I love you, I want you—”

He hushes you, brushing your tears away with the pad of his thumb. “I know, sweet girl. I know. And I love you. But you’re too drunk, and just because I’m your boyfriend doesn’t mean I can just ignore that.”

You sniffle, tears still slipping free as you look up at him. “You don’t want me,” you say again, your voice a soft accusation.

He shakes his head firmly, cupping your face. “I do. More than anything,” he says, his voice rough with the force of it. “But not like this. Not when you can barely walk straight. I’m just going to hold you tonight, okay?”

You hiccup, more tears slipping down. But there’s something in his eyes, something fierce and unwavering, that soothes the ache in your chest. You nod, though your lip is still trembling.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He leans in and kisses you slowly, his lips gentle as they move against yours. When he pulls back, his hands drop to your hips, guiding you to crawl up the bed. You sink into his sheets, pulling the covers up around you as you watch him strip down to his boxers.

You can’t help but let your eyes roam over his body. Broad shoulders, defined abs, sun-kissed skin, and relics you wouldn’t mind licking right about now. You want to touch him, but you force your hands to stay tucked under your chin, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your tears.

He slides in beside you, flicks off the mage lights, and pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. You melt into him, your face pressed into the curve of his throat, breathing him in.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hair. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You nod, your breath hitching as you cling to him. “Promise?”

He tightens his hold, his voice low in the dark. “Promise.”

You let your eyes flutter shut after that. Liam’s palm runs up and down your back in soothing motions, and you sigh as you snuggle further into him. Tomorrow you’ll appreciate how much of a gentleman he is. How honorable he is. But for now, you try to ignore your brief sadness and focus on the sound of your boyfriend’s heartbeat as sleep claims you.

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #rebecca yarros #liamweek2025 #liam mairi #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fic #liam x reader

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nahoney22 · 4 months ago

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Liar Liar (Part 4/?)

🫧 Part Four - Meadow // <<< Part Three

🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female Reader

🫧 word count: 3k

🫧Chapter Summary: When you reveal a painful memory to ‘Whisky’ after opening up to him, Fox’s deceit weighs heavily on his mind.

🫧Chapter Warnings: Safe for work, flirty messages, mentions of cheating by ex partner (gender neutral pronouns used), Fox feeling guilty, female reader wearing minimal makeup.

Hound’s words played on a loop in Fox’s mind, an unrelenting echo that refused to let him rest: “You have to tell her the truth.”

And he knew it. He really did.

What he didn’t quite understand was why it so difficult to do so.

He was a straight-talking, no-nonsense kind of Commander and had always had a deep authority that oozed from his behaviour. Yet, here he was, almost paralysed at the thought of coming clean to you. Every time he tried to imagine the words, they got tangled up in his throat, choking on the fear of what your reaction might be. Kriff, he wouldn’t even blame you if you were to sock him one.

So, instead, he sat behind his desk, arms folded and brow furrowed behind his helmet as he watched you from the corner of his eye. You were focused, lost in whatever reports Thorn had burdened you with today. But he could see the slight smile on your lips, that little curve that made his heart stumble, and it tore at him because he knew exactly why you were smiling.

You were thinking about him—or rather, you were thinking about Whisky . A man who didn’t even exist.

And that was the part that drove him crazy. He was sitting right here, a few feet away, and you were smiling because of him but didn’t even realise it.

He needed to tell you the truth. Tomorrow, when you both go on that walk. He’d lay it all out, come clean, and then… well, he’d have to deal with whatever fallout came next.

From across the room, he caught sight of Hound leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face. The silent message was clear: Hurry up. Rip it off like a medpatch.

Yeah, he was going to have to tell you. If not, Hound said he would.

Later that night, when everyone had retreated to earn some rest, Fox sat alone at his desk, the office bathed in the dim glow of his holoscreen. He drummed his fingers against the cold metal surface, his mind churning with anxiety.

He realised then that he’d never actually told you where to meet tomorrow. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t use his own comm link to send you a message—it’d raise too many questions.

With a sigh, he started setting up a new comm code under the name ‘Whisky.’ It was a stupid plan, really. This entire scheme was a disaster waiting to happen. But the alternative was far worse.

As the new comm link activated, Fox hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keypad. What should he say? Should he be casual? Confident? Playful? Kriff, he wasn’t used to this.

He typed out the first message: Sorry for the late message… it’s Whisky. Just wanted to make sure you knew where to meet tomorrow.

He stared at it for a moment before quickly hitting send, his heart already hammering in his chest. It was out there now. No turning back.

Setting the device down on his desk, he ran a hand through his hair, nerves prickling under his skin and then his comm link beeped, and Fox nearly jumped out of his chair. He fumbled to pick it up, his fingers suddenly clumsy.

Hey handsome, sounds good! What should I wear?

Fox’s eyes widened, his heart pounding so hard he was sure it was echoing off the durasteel walls. Handsome. You called him handsome . Again.

He felt a dopey grin stretch across his face before he could stop it, smiling like a love-sick cadet.

He paused for a moment when he heard some shuffling outside the office, his head shot up, eyes narrowing, but it was only two shinies standing outside, whispering to each other.

One nudged the other, both peeking through one of the windows as if Fox could not obviously see him. “What do you think he’s smiling at?” one asked.

“Not a clue,” the other muttered back. “Didn’t think the Commander could even smile.”

Fox’s eyes narrowed. He could hear them, the idiots. But his annoyance was short-lived.

He quickly typed out a response: Hope I didn’t wake you, beautiful. And anything will be fine, I’m sure you’d look good in anything.

He hit send before he could overthink it, then sat back, releasing a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. When you didn’t reply immediately, he busied himself with tidying up his desk, shuffling reports that didn’t need organising because you had already done it for him. But the moment his comm beeped again, he abandoned it without a second thought.

Anything? I don’t think you’d like me showing up in my birthday suit.

Fox choked on his own breath, his cheeks burning. His fingers hovered, his mind racing with a million responses before he finally settled on one: I wouldn’t say no to that.

He hit send and immediately regretted it, his eyes widening. Had he gone too far? Was that too forward? Kriff, what was wrong with him? He was a Commander of the Coruscant Guard, for kark’s sake! He wasn’t supposed to be flustered this.

The shinies were still outside, now watching with unabashed curiosity.

“Is he… blushing?” one asked, his voice low with disbelief.

“Nah,” the other scoffed. “He must’ve eaten something bad. Can’t be what I’m thinking.”

Fox shot a glare, his mouth twisting in irritation. He’d deal with them later. Right now, his comm buzzed again, and all his attention went right back to the screen.

Let’s see how this date tomorrow goes first, hm?

He felt his chest tighten, excitement flooding him as he read the message. Date. You called it a date.

Fox leaned back in his chair, grinning like a fool as his mind wandered to tomorrow despite the twisted anxiety.

Maybe, just maybe, this might work out after all.

⋅───⊱༺  🦊 ༻⊰───⋅

You woke up feeling excited, a fluttery sensation in your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. It had been ages since you’d ventured back into the dating pool, but there was something about Whisky that just seemed worth it.

Lying in bed, you found yourself re-reading the messages from last night, your smile widening at his flirtatious replies. It felt silly, but your heart raced at his words, especially when he called you beautiful.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you jumped into the refresher, the warm water doing little to calm your nerves. You spent far too long fussing with your hair, trying out different styles before settling on one that looked effortlessly put together. Then came the makeup—just enough to accentuate your features without overdoing it.

But the real battle was deciding what to wear. The forecast predicted mild weather, so a coat was unnecessary, but it wasn’t quite warm enough for a dress or skirt. Eventually, you settled on a nice pair of trousers and a fitted top that compliments your figure just enough. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

You could do this. It was just a date. A date with a guy who seemed charming, kind, and who—if his messages were anything to go by—knew exactly how to make you feel good.

The coordinates he sent led you to the lower levels of Coruscant. You hesitated at first, glancing around at the dim, bustling streets. It wasn’t exactly the most desirable location, but Whisky said he knew a nice spot, and… well, you wanted to trust him.

Standing at the rendezvous point, you double-checked the coordinates, just to be sure you were in the right place. As you looked up from the screen, you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

You turned and immediately felt a warmth spread through you. Whisky stood there, dressed in civvies, a hood pulled over his head that cast a faint shadow over his eyes, but his smile was unmistakable.

“Hey,” you greeted, your hands tucking behind your back shyly. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” he chuckled, his voice soft and warm. “For some reason, I woke up thinking you might not show.”

You pulled a face, shaking your head. “Definitely not! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

His smile widened, relief washing over his features. “In that case,” he extended his hand toward you, “shall we?”

Your heart did a little flip as you slipped your hand into his, his grip firm yet gentle. A warmth crept up your cheeks when he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, his lips lingering for just a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with playful mischief.

You walked beside him, his hand still holding yours. “So,” you began, giving him a sideways glance, “where are you taking me?”

He grinned, his hood shifting as he looked over at you. “That’s a surprise.”

You arched a brow, a teasing lilt in your voice. “A surprise, huh? Should I be worried?”

“Of course not. You can trust me.”

“Can I?” you continued playfully, “you are being pretty secretive.”

There’s a glimmer of unease in your teasing but he shakes it off quickly as he looks at you, his gaze softening. “Trust me,” he repeated, his voice lower. “I promise it’s worth it.”

There was something in his tone, a sincerity that makes your chest tighten. You squeezed his hand gently, a smile playing on your lips. “Alright, I’ll trust you… for now.”

His grin returned, brighter than before. “Good. Because I think you’re going to love it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Well, if it’s half as charming as you, then I’m sure I will.”

Whisky’s cheeks warm. He looked away quickly, his fingers tightening around yours. “You’re a dangerous flirt, you know that?”

As you continued walking, at one point Whisky glanced at you and asked, “Did you eat or drink anything today?”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic but shook your head. “I was too excited. Barely managed to get my caf down before rushing out the door.”

His brows furrowed with concern. “You know, you won’t have any energy if you don’t eat.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, a little giddy that he was tentative about these types of things. “Besides, I was too busy deciding what to wear.” You gave a playful twirl, letting him get a good look. “Worth the trouble?”

His gaze lingered on you, his eyes tracing your figure before he cleared his throat, “Definitely worth it.”

After navigating a few more backstreets and climbing a series of concealed staircases, you suddenly noticed that the light was getting brighter. You hadn’t realised just how many levels you’d ascended.

When you finally stepped out, you were greeted by the most breathtaking sight. It was an open expanse, a hidden meadow perched high above the bustling cityscape. Soft, green grass dances in the gentle breeze, and delicate flowers of every colour dotted the landscape. Your jaw dropped. “I… I didn’t even know a place like this existed.”

Whisky released your hand, watching your awe-struck expression with a satisfied smirk. “Told you that you could trust me.”

You turned to him, your eyes wide with wonder. “How did you even find this place?”

“Stumbled on it during an assignment,” he explained. “Got curious, went exploring, and… well, here it was.” He hesitated, his eyes flicking away. “Technically, nobody’s supposed to be here. It’s an abandoned part of the old levels. But I figured it was too beautiful to keep to myself.”

A playful smirk danced on his lips. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we won’t get caught.”

You shook your head in disbelief, a laugh bubbling from your chest. “Breaking the rules, are we?”

He grinned, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “Only a little. Worth it, though, right?”

You looked back at the meadow, the serene beauty taking your breath away. “Yeah,” you whispered, “definitely worth it.”

His expression softened as he watched you take it all in. “I knew you’d like it.”

You turned back to him, your heart thudding in your chest. “I don’t just like it, I love it. It’s like a dream.” You say in awe. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Whisky’s smile was soft, almost shy. “You’re welcome.”

You continued walking side by side through the hidden meadow, your steps slow and leisurely as you took in the beauty around you. A gentle breeze carried the faint scent of blooming flowers. Everything about this place felt like a dream, untouched and tranquil.

You both chatted casually, light conversations flowing easily between you. He had a knack for making you laugh, his playful remarks and teasing making you feel a type of way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

As you continued walking, you spotted a lovely patch of grass beneath a tree. The ground was soft and inviting, offering the perfect place to rest and take in the stunning view. “How about there?” you suggested, pointing to the spot.

Whisky followed your gaze and nodded, “Yeah, looks good.”

You both made your way over, settling down on the grass. You stretched out your legs, leaning back on your hands as you looked out at the expanse of green, the city’s skyline just visible in the distance. It was quiet here, peaceful, like the world had paused just for the two of you.

For a while, neither of you spoke, simply taking in the view. But as you glanced over at Whisky, you noticed a distant look in his eyes, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. There was a flicker of conflict in his gaze.

“Hey, you say softly as you nudge his shoulder, “where did you go?”

His head turned slowly, his eyes locking with yours. For a moment, he looked as if he were about to speak—really speak, to spill the truth right there and then. But the words tangled on his tongue, heavy and painful. He saw you, radiant under the sun, the light catching in your eyes as you looked at him with nothing but trust. Trust he didn’t deserve.

His chest tightened, guilt clawing at him, but his voice came out steady. “I’m just happy you came today.”

Your eyes crinkled with amusement, a bright laugh escaping your lips. “And here I thought you were going to stand me up,” you teased, stretching out and letting the sun warm your face. “This place really is beautiful. You, uh, ever brought anyone else here?”

He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. “No, this can be our secret.”

You lay back fully, fingers threading through the grass as you hummed in approval. “Sounds good to me, Whisky.”

His heart clenched at the name. Whisky. Not Fox.

He swallowed hard, his fingers strumming anxiously against his thighs as the urge to tell you the truth built within him. But the words refused to come. Especially when you were looking at him like that, with a smile so genuine that it almost made him sick.

“So,” his voice was rough, the weight of his guilt making it hard to speak. “Any prior dating history?”

You sat up slightly, giving him a playful look. “Ooh, getting personal now?”

His shoulders stiffened. For a second, he thought about backtracking, dismissing it as a joke. But then you smiled, plucking a wildflower from the ground and playing with its petals. “Nah, it’s alright. I don’t mind.”

You leaned back again, fingers toying with the flower as your eyes grew distant. “I’ve had maybe two or three partners before. Nothing serious, mostly ended as friends.” You hesitated, your smile faltering. “Except for one.”

His gaze softened as he watched your expression change. “What happened?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Promising a forever with each other for them to see someone behind my back for months.” The flower crushed under your palm, “kinda sucked.” You mutter, sucking in a deep breath as you avoid Whisky’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and genuine. Without thinking, his hand reached out, resting gently on your knee. “That’s not something anyone deserves.”

You laughed, but the sound was bitter. “Yeah, well, I just wish they’d found that person when we weren’t together. Would’ve saved me a lot of heartbreak. But as long as they’re happy I guess.”

As tears cornered the corner of your eyes, you looked away as his thumb unconsciously rubbed soothing circles against your knee. He wanted to hold you, to comfort you... but how could he?

You quickly wiped away a stray tear, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all emotional. It’s not fair to you.”

He shook his head, “No... don’t apologise. I asked.”

You looked at him then, your eyes searching his own from beneath his hood as if you were looking for something, anything. “I guess it just made it hard for me to trust people again.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

The words hit him like a blaster bolt, sharp and merciless. He felt his heart plummet, the weight of his lies crashing down on him like a crashing ship.

You trusted him.

You were opening up to him, showing him the most vulnerable parts of yourself, and he was lying straight to your face.

Whilst this felt like a dream to you, it was a nightmare for him.

His hand froze on your knee, his fingers curling into the fabric of your trousers. But oblivious to the turmoil inside him, you seem to shift your emotions effortlessly. “What about you? A handsome clone like you must’ve had some admirers, right?”

He blinked, your playful tone almost pulling him out of his thoughts. He forced a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Me? I usually keep to myself.”

Your brow arched, curiosity lighting up your features. “Is that a hint?”

The warmth of your gaze makes it hard to breathe. Or was it the lies laying on his chest? “Maybe… if I wasn’t enjoying the company so much.”

“Oh yeah? Even if I was just crying over an ex?”

“Even that,” he murmured, his voice soft.

His gaze lingered on you, memorising the way the sunlight danced across your features, the way your smile lit up your face. You were perfect.

Radiant.

And so painfully trusting.

While he was a liar.

🦊 Part Five Here

🦊 Liar Liar Masterlist

🦊 Stay up to date on AO3

Tags: @forcesavetheclones @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter r @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tentakelspektakel @stellarbit @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @greaser-wolf @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @the-bad-batch-baroness @dreamie411 @griffedeloup @501st104th212th99s @clonecyare88 @namechange-mykidfoundmyblog g @mitth-eli-vanto @cloneflo99

#commander fox #commander fox x reader #clone wars #tcw fox #liar liar series #nahoney22 writes #Corrie guard x reader #Corrie guard #fox x reader #commander fox x you #reblog to support your writers and artists ❤️

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m-jelly · 2 months ago

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Hi Jelly! Can i request reader x levi angst?

It's ok if you don't want to make it.🩷 (I'll be happy if u notice me)

(Canon world)

Reader is actually Erwin's little sister(you decide their age gap^^)!! Levi met reader when the sc went after him in the underground and he actually fell in love with her in the first sight. As years goes by Levi's feelings are strong now, he loves reader so much. (she actually look like erwin a lot). After Erwin's death the reader started to change a lot and levi helped her out. Reader was starting back on track of her life, but eventually the rumbling started and she sacrificed herself to the sc. (you decide the ending)

I'm sorry if it's too long😭, I've been a silent fan of your works since pandemic and this is my first request to you which , I'm kinda nervous ahhh. Have a good day Jelly!! I hope both of your pillows are cold both side and don't stress yourself so much, you're too glorious to be stressed 😤🫶

You are a sweet little jellytot <3

Field of flowers

Levi x fem reader

Canon world, angst, emotional pain, becoming a couple, reuniting, fluff, romance, happy ending.

The love between you and Levi was always unspoken, never admitted out loud. When the rumbling happens, it looks like the end is near. You race off and fight knowing that the chance of you dying is likely. When the war is over and his heart is full of pain, Levi doesn't know what to do with himself. After moving rooms at the hospital to heal, he sees a familiar face he didn't think he'd see again.

"You don't have to do this," Levi muttered, his heart stinging. "Please don't do this, too many people have died already."

You smiled sadly. "I want to do this."

"There has to be another way."

You cupped the side of Levi's face. "Thank you for everything you did for me."

"I..."

You released him. "Come on, Levi, smile for me. Where's that handsome smile I adore?"

He looked away from you. "Sorry."

"We'll meet again in a field of flowers on a sunny day."

He perked up a bit. "Promise?"

You hummed a laugh. "Sure." You released a long shaky sigh. "Once more into battle." You gripped your blades. "Kind of exciting."

Levi smiled a little. "Always the optimistic."

You grinned as tears ran down your cheeks. "Ah, there's that smile I adore! Thanks, Levi."

That sweet bright smile you always held meant the world to him, because it was always for him. Levi was thankful that the last thing he saw of you that day was your bright cute smile. As Levi went into his final battle, he kept thinking about your smile.

Even though he felt like the pain of his wounds was going to break him, you were always on his mind. He hoped and prayed you were alive and okay somewhere. He dreamed of seeing you again. Levi lived a life with no regrets, but he regretted so much not confessing to you what was deep in his heart.

Levi had never been in love before, he didn't understand it much and heard how it had made people act and feel. He'd watched scouts fall in love. He'd seen how Mikasa and Eren were. Levi knew he was in love with you, you were everything to him and he wished you were right by his side. He wanted to plan for the future.

Healing in the hospital was hard for him, he was left with visions of those he lost and regrets linked to you. Soon the pain left him and an emptiness was left behind, the only thing that perked him up was seeing the cadets working on a better future.

"Captain?"

He blinked a few times before looking over at the nurse. "Yes?"

She smiled softly. "I know you've had this room by yourself, but we have a new patient who's going into recovery. She'll be sharing a room with you, is that okay?"

Levi nodded. "Sure."

"Don't worry, she's a sweet thing. She's a soldier too, so maybe you might know her."

"Maybe." He picked up his book and read a few pages as the bed was wheeled in. He tried not to listen in to them chatting with the patient, but he hoped the talking would end soon so he could have peace and quiet.

"Levi?"

His eyes widened at the familiar gentle voice. He slowly looked over at the bed next to him to see you sitting up in bed wrapped up in bandages to protect burns. Tears filled his eyes, he felt like he was dreaming, he had to be dreaming for you to be alive and right next to him.

"It is you!"

There was that bright cute smile of yours. Even though you were badly wounded, you were still able to smile so perfectly for him. He was speechless, he didn't know what to say to you and it made you laugh cutely. All Levi could do was blush hard as tears ran down his cheeks.

You carefully slipped out of bed and limped over to him. "I know it's not a field of flowers I promised." You looked around the room and pointed to the vase on his table. "There's the flower I guess." You looked out the window and hummed. "I guess that's a field out there?"

Levi reached over and held your hand before softly saying your name. "I love you."

You felt your cheeks heat up at those words you longed for. You locked eyes with Levi as your heart raced. "Levi, do you mean it?"

"I do. I should have said it to you sooner."

You sat on his bed and smiled. "I..." You rubbed your tears and laughed. "I love you too." You tapped your forehead against his shoulder. "I thought this day would never come." You squeezed his hand. "I'm glad it did."

"Me too." He called your name. "May I kiss you?"

You lifted your head as you softly whined. "Please do."

He cupped your face with his right hand. He hesitated for a moment before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. Butterflies fluttered inside of you both, your hearts throbbing with happiness. He bit your lip a little and shyly flicked his tongue against you, he worried you'd reject him, but you parted your lips and accepted a passionate kiss.

You pulled back and panted a moment. "Mm."

Levi cleared his throat. "I hope that wasn't disappointing."

You hummed a laugh. "It was better than I dreamed of. You're incredible."

"You're the incredible one." He shook his head. "I can't believe you're alive."

"I can't either. It might seem weird or silly, but I swear I saw Erwin when I was close to death. He protected me, that or I imagined things."

Levi pulled you closer. "I saw them all too, every single one of them when it was over. I think you saw Erwin."

You released a long sigh. "One last goodbye."

"Yeah." He squeezed you. "So, we're healing buddies now."

"Yeah, mine are all burns."

"I've fucked up my leg...do you still love me?"

You locked eyes with Levi. "Always. Do you still love me with all my scars?"

He smiled. "Absolutely."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

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velvetlilacsdaisies · 1 year ago

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Five More Minutes | B. Durran |

Bodhi Durran x established gf! Reader

Synopsis: you wanted five more minutes to sleep

Word count: 1k

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, smuttiness, implied smut? Not proofread well probs

A/n: sorry for being horny on the main lmao, this was supposed to be fluff, I don’t how I got here 🤥 anyways this is my first published smutty blurb attempt so please be gentle! This was a bit out of my comfort zone tbh but I had fun lol. I hope you enjoy!

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding—you slapped the knob on the side of the alarm clock on the bedside for the second time that morning, snoozing it once again. Five more minutes. Going to your morning lesson was no longer the tedious feat as it was in Basigath now you were at the Riorson House. So five extra minutes wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes. Arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer into the broad warm chest you were so accustomed to. Smiling lightly, wrapping your hands around Bodhi’s forearms as he peppered small kisses to the back of your shoulder savoring the feeling of his closeness.

“Snoozing the alarm clock again?” His voice was raspy from sleep, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“And if I did?” You tilted your head to the side, feeling his lips press even more warm soft kisses up underneath your ear. The sensation sends waves of warmth through your body, and you feel the heat settle deep in your core.

His fingers rubbed small circles into your exposed waist where his sleep shirt you wore rose. “Y/n/n…” he warned.

You smirked lazily, turning in his arms to face him. You pushed his shoulder back so he was laying flat on the bed, and climbed on top of him straddling his waist. You rubbed your hands down his muscular torso softly, eliciting a sigh from his full lips. He looked so handsome when he first woke up, and your insides practically turned to molten lava at the sight of the relic that trailed up his arm to the side of his neck contrasting against his tawny skin. You could have traced the intricate patterns and swirls for hours never getting tired of doing so.

“What’s five more minutes gonna hurt?” You asked innocently. You reached up to brush a few of the dark unruly curls that laid in his face then caressing his cheek, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone.

He leaned into your touch, kissing your palm as he opened his eyes looking up at you. His own hands had found your bare thighs massaging lightly.

The light streamed into his bedroom, radiating golden rays over him and you. There was something about you on top of him in nothing but your underwear and his shirt that was angelic. With your bedhead and the watery gaze from your slumber was so sexy to him watching a small pout form on your lips.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his grip tightening the slightest on your thighs. “I’m section leader, and if they catch you—a cadet— in my room…“

You cut him off by leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his cheeks. He kissed you back, the tenderness and sweetness ebbing between you two swelled at your heart. You bit his lower lip, a soft moan leaving his mouth, and your tongue slipped into the mouth deepening the kiss even more. Your hands wrapped into his hair, and his found their way to your backside kneading the soft flesh of your ass.

As angelic as you were in the morning light, you were an evil woman, he had thought, feeling the familiar twitch of his cock.

“We’re gonna be late, Y/n.” He protested as he pulled for a breath before you kissed him again.

“So,” you panted. You wanted to lay in Bodhi’s bed forever with him, everything had a looming grey over it lately with the revolution, everything except for the sanctuary in these four walls you found with him.

“Babygirl,” he groaned, his eyes screwing shut when he felt your hand trail down his torso. “I’m sorry, but we can’t. Aetos will have my head again if I’m la—“ his words stopped short when a loud knock from the door startled the both of you.

“Section Leader Durran, I know you and Cadet Y/l/n are in there.” Garrick’s voice sounded from behind the wood, and you could hear the giggles of Imogen from beside him. “And let me tell you, Aetos is already planning some colorful punishments for the both of you.” You could hear him stifling a laugh as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes as you went back to pressing open mouth kisses on his prominent jaw line, and Bodhi tensed fighting the moan that wanted to tumble out of his mouth. He grabbed your hips to try to stop you, but you kept working your way down the column of his throat.

“We’ll be down to briefing in a second!” Bodhi called.

“Briefing starts now though, section leader!” Imogen mockingly retorted.

“Five minutes!” He called out, his teeth gritting together when he felt you start grinding slowly against him. His resolve deteriorated when it came to you. And his resolve was nonexistent as he felt your wetness seep through your panties. He mentally cursed to himself, feeling his bulge harden. You two weren’t going to even make it to the briefing at this point.

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you!” Imogen and Garrick merely laughed from behind the door as the sounds of their footsteps retreated.

You looked up at him through your lashes, and his usually honeyed brown eyes were darkened with the familiar haze of lust. His hands gripped your hips tighter as he rolled you off of him, and flipped you on to the mattress.

“This is going to be worth every punishment and more.” He growled darkly into your ear then kissed the sweet spot right under it, a small gasp escaping from you as he did so.

The five minutes turned to fifty five minutes to say the least. And when you showed up to the second lesson of the day facing an angry Dain Aetos, Bodhi couldn't help but wink at you once you two got scolded, not mad at all you were an hour late.

Eeeep!! I hope you guys enjoyed! 💞 feedback is definitely appreciated since this is my first smutty blurb! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated too 🫶

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