#ah he's got a scar through his eyebrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chosok-amo · 2 months

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STARS AROUND SCARS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you were just trying to draw some stars on your boyfriend, not knowing simple things could be so hard when you have two needy boyfriends.

w/c : 8k (sorry, can't stop myself :'))

warning : lots, and lots of suggestive conversation, horndog! gojo satoru and fluff.

[☆] MASTERLIST

on a crystal-clear evening with the sky a vivid shade of blue, you and gojo satoru were enjoying a rare and cherished day off. the living room was bathed in the gentle, natural light of the setting sun, casting a warm glow over everything.

you were sprawled comfortably on the soft carpet, wearing a casual outfit that perfectly matched the relaxed vibe of the day: a short denim skirt paired with a white crop top, and ankle socks completing the look. gojo lay in front of you, his one arm lying flat as a pillow beneath his head, equally casual in a pair of short blue jeans and white socks, his posture relaxed and at ease.

while you two were savoring this peaceful downtime, your other boyfriend, geto suguru, was hard at work. he was busy attending an important meeting with the jujutsu higher-ups, his mind likely consumed by the demands of his role. it was a stark contrast to your serene afternoon, but you knew how dedicated he was, and it made these moments with gojo even more special.

colorful pens and crayon marks were spread out in vibrant disarray around you. the bright, vivid hues of the art supplies had left their playful imprints on the carpet, creating a whimsical, chaotic pattern that contrasted beautifully with the serene atmosphere of your cozy living room.

“oh, look at you,” you enthusiasly said as you carefully drew tiny stars around gojo's scars on his arm, adding a burst of color. “you’re like a living piece of the blue sky,” you giggled.

gojo chuckled, his lips curving into a charming smile at your words, “ah, so you think i'm a living piece of the sky, huh? well, i can't say i dislike that comparison,” he joked, his eyes watching your every move as you added the final touches with your colorful pens.

his gaze drifted to the colorful art supplies scattered around you, and his smile turned a tad more mischievous. “you're making quite a mess here,” he teased, gesturing to the mess of color covering the carpet, “i wonder what suguru will think when he sees this.”

you can't help but grin at gojo's comment, continuing to scribble playful little stars around his scars. “oh, come on,” you reply with a lighthearted roll of your eyes, “it's not a mess it's. . . creative expression.” you raise an eyebrow at his mention of geto, imagining the slight eye roll you'll get as he walks through the door and sees your vibrant ‘creative expression’ on the carpet.

“he'll probably just shake his head in faux disapproval,” you say with a soft laugh. “but secretly he'll think it's adorable,” imagining the look on suguru's face when he walked in to see the colorful chaos you'd created. “i'm sure he'll love it,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes playfully. “he always appreciates a good splash of color.”

as you continued your whimsical artwork on gojo's arm, he couldn't help but watch you with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “you've got quite the artistic touch there,” he remarked, observing the swirling stars you'd added to his scars. “i'm starting to feel like a canvas.”

you flash him a cheeky grin, “well, you're the perfect blank canvas, with all these little scars.” your fingers move with careful precision as you artfully create tiny spirals and swirls around his scars with your pens. the way his skin was so pale and flawless made the scars stand out even more, creating a unique canvas for your colorful designs.

“and you're being such a good ’canvas’ too,” you chuckle, gently teasing. “no squirming, no complaints.” your eyes dart between the swirls and stars you've created on his arm, admiring your own work. “besides, it's not like you're complaining. you wouldn't be lying here letting me draw on you if you didn't enjoy it, would you?”

gojo chuckled, “you've got a point there. It does feel kind of nice, having a pretty girl like you drawing on me.” he glances down at his arm, observing the colorful designs you've created. “i just hope suguru doesn't get jealous,” he teases, a smirk playing upon his lips, “he might think I'm enjoying this a little too much.”

“but you do enjoy this a little too much,” you look at him for a second before looking down to where his hand lies under your chest— under your breast more likely. giving it a gentle squeeze from here and there since the start.

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as you glanced down, well aware of the hand he had placed under you. “can you blame me, really? i have a stunning woman practically straddling my hand, and she's putting on quite the colorful show on my arm.”

his fingers involuntarily flex against your skin, the warmth seeping through your crop top, sending tingles down your spine. “especially when your hands are on me... touching me in all the right places.”

he gave your breast a light squeeze once again, his thumb slowly tracing a pattern on your skin as he met your eyes, a playful twinkle visible in his. “besides, i doubt you're complaining either, considering the location of your perch. but i swear, baby it's just for the art. completely art-related enjoyment,” he gives you a wink before chuckle.

“shut up!” you swat his hand lightly, trying to hide your embarrassment. “why do you have to say it like that? it sounds so inappropriate!” you then shift slightly, guiding his hand from beneath your chest to rest flat against the carpet, a playful scowl on your face. “just keep it where it belongs, okay?”

gojo chuckles, pretending to pout as you smack his hand away from your chest. “hey, i'm just being honest,” he replies with a smirk. “and besides, you were pretty much lying on my hand.” he lets his hand fall to the side, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, “now that you've moved it, i feel strangely empty,” he making a squeeze gesture with his hand, teasing you once more.

“it was nice having a little something to hold,” he adds, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a mischievous smirk. you roll your eyes at his pitiful expression, aware of his tactics to get what he wants. “don't give me that look," you chide playfully, “you're not getting that hand back, babe.”

yet, you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the way he talks about wanting to hold something, his voice low and suggestive. “and quit being such a pervert,” you add, trying to mask the way his words affect you.

gojo feigns innocence once again, “me? a pervert? perish the thought,” he teases, the smirk never leaving his lips as he watches the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i just appreciate beautiful things,” he continues, his eyes briefly roaming over your figure. “and you, my dear, are an absolute masterpiece.” his gaze drifts to your hips, admiring the way your short skirt rides up with each subtle shift. “and it's a damn good view from down here,” he mutters under his breath.

he reaches out towards where his hand was previously, only to snatch it back when you give him a firm look. “come on, don't be mean. i miss the company down there.” he gives you puppy dog eyes, his gaze pleading. “just one hand? for old-time's sake? i'll be good, i promise.”

you can't help but chuckle at his puppy dog eyes, the way they widen ever so slightly to make him look like a pouting child. “don't you start with that look,” you scold, trying to keep your resolve despite his adorable expression.

yet, as much as you enjoy the game of cat and mouse, you can't help but feel a tinge of yearning for his touch too. you bite your lip, considering his plea. “one hand,” you finally relent, “and you better behave yourself, gojo.” a sly smile dances on his lips as he hears your reluctant but consenting response, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you now. gojo slowly slides his hand underneath you once more, this time allowing his fingers to brush against your side, tracing the smooth curve of your waist.

his touch is light, like a whisper against your skin, as if he's testing his boundaries. “you’re so soft,” he whispers, his eyes darkened. “i don’t know how you manage to feel so soft and delicate, but also so strong and feisty at the same time.”

“stop tempting me!” you exclaim with a playful huff. “let me add these little stars to your arm without distractions!” you punctuate your demand with a light bite on his arm, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “i need to focus on my artwork, not on how you’re making this way more interesting than it should be.”

gojo can't help but chuckle at your attempted bite, his arm reflexively twitching under your teeth. “ow, ow, ow,” he exclaims in fake pain, “you're really getting into your role as a fierce artist, huh?”

his hand continues to slowly explore your side, his fingers gently tracing along the hem of your crop top, the tips dipping just slightly beneath the fabric. He watches the way you shiver under his touch with a mixture of amusement and fascination. “is that how you treat your canvas?” he teases. “well, if you weren’t such an irresistible muse, maybe I’d be more gentle,” you retort with a smirk. “but since you’re clearly enjoying this little performance, i might just have to give you an encore. how’s that for art?”

gojo lets out a pleased hum, clearly enjoying your playful banter. “oh, i'm enjoying it alright,” he replies, his hand still drifting lazily along your side, inching its way up to brush against the bare skin of your stomach, “i never knew being a muse could be this much fun.”

his touch becomes a little more insistent, his fingers now outlining the contour of your hip, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch. “keep going,” he encourages, “i want to see your entire masterpiece.”

your mind is a whirl of sensations. you try to focus on your work, continuing to draw the tiny little stars around gojo's scars, but his hand is a constant presence on your body, stealing your attention once again.

you try to keep your composure, to maintain the illusion of control, but the way his fingers glide across your waist, and the heat creeping up your spine betrays you. “i can't work like this,” you halfheartedly complain, your voice a little breathier than you had intended.

“come on, babe, let me just finish this,” you pouted, looking up at your boyfriend with a mix of frustration and affection. he responded with a gentle smile and a sigh of resignation. “alright, alright, i’m sorry,” he said, pushing himself up from the floor to give you a quick, tender kiss. afterward, he eased back down onto the floor, his free arm resting comfortably behind his head as he settled in with a relax expression.

gojo watches with a relaxed smile as you continue your work, his gaze shifting between the colorful stars and spirals on his arm and your concentrated expression. occasionally, his hand would sneak beneath your shirt or stroke against your arm, as if to remind you of his presence and the effect he had on you. you could feel the heat from his skin through your thin fabric, making you shiver each time he touched you.

“you're so focused,” he remarks with a hint of teasing, “it's quite adorable.”

just as you reach for another marker, the sound of the front door opening makes you look up. geto suguru has entered the apartment, his tall, lean figure filling the doorway.

“i'm home,” he says, his footsteps entering the living room after a beat. he looks surprised to find you and gojo sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by a chaotic array of colorful pens. his gaze flicks between the artwork covering gojo's arm to your flushed face. a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“well, this is a colorful sight,” he observes, stepping closer to the carpet, his eyes drifting over the markings on gojo's arm. the white-haired boy grins up at him, his hand still resting underneath you, “well, our little artist here decided to use me as her canvas.”

geto's gaze shifts to you, raising an eyebrow in amusement, “quite the masterpiece you've created there, love,” he looks down on you before crouching beside you.

you look up, smiling at your other boyfriend before kissing him on the cheek, “how is your day, baby?” you ask, soft and gentle as you continue to lie on your stomach and draw on gojo's arm. geto smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling slightly at your affectionate greeting. he leans down to return the kiss gently, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“my day was fine, darling,” he replies, his voice smooth and soothing. he glances down at the artwork you're creating on gojo's arm, his gaze flickering over the bright, vibrant stars and spirals. “i see you've been keeping our dear satoru entertained,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

gojo chuckles, “oh, I'm very entertained, trust me.” he gives your breast a gentle squeeze for emphasis. “our little artist has quite the touch.” geto chuckles, shaking his head at gojo's antics. he crouches down beside you, his gaze lingering on your focused expression as you continue your artwork.

he reaches out and threads his fingers through your hair, gently tousling it. “and how are you doing, my love?” he asks, his voice low and affectionate. you smile, “my day is good, satoru can't stop squeezing my boobs but it was good.”

gojo lets out a laugh, feigning innocence, “hey, i can't help it. they're soft and pleasant to touch.” geto rolls his eyes affectionately, giving gojo a playful nudge. “control yourself, satoru,” he says sternly, yet there's a hint of amusement in his voice. he shifts his attention back to you, his hand still carding through your hair. “ignore this shameless man here. i'm glad your day was good, despite his. . . antics.”

gojo pouts petulantly, his hand still resting on your hip. “i can't help it, they're just. . . right there,” he defends, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

geto huffs, shaking his head again at gojo's unabashed behavior. “you're incorrigible,” he mutters, though his voice lacks any real annoyance. he gazes down at you, a tender look in his eyes, “don't let him distract you too much, dear."

geto watches as you continue to draw on ojo's arm, a small smile playing on his lips. after a minute, he turns his attention to you, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder gently.

“can i have a turn too?” he asks, his voice is soft but hopeful. gojo's eyes widen slightly in surprise, his hand pausing on your hip. “hey, hey. what's with this sudden request?” he asks, mock-jealousy in his tone. but you can tell by the flicker of interest in his eyes that he doesn't mind sharing the spotlight a bit. geto simply rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement at gojo's reaction.

“of course, babe. you can have a turn,” you reply, shifting your attention to geto without paying attention to gojo for a moment. gojo makes a mock cry of protest, but there's a hint of a grin on his face. “hey, no budging in line!”

geto chuckles at gojo's theatrics, shaking his head at his childish behavior. “oh, hush, you had your turn,” he teased. you smile at them both, enjoying the playful dynamic between the two. “don't worry, he won't take too long,” you reassure gojo, glancing over at him with a playful smirk.

gojo pouts, but there's a glimmer of enjoyment in his eyes at the sight of you interacting with both of them. as geto peels off his uniform, revealing his lean, toned body, your eyes widen in appreciation. you can't help but admire his muscular frame, and a smile spreads across your face.

gojo lets out a mock-disgusted groan, clearly annoyed at how easily he's been replaced in your affections. “oh, come on,” he whines, “you're drooling over him already?” geto chuckles at gojo's complaint, taking a moment to flex his muscles, clearly teasing both you and gojo.

you roll your eyes at gojo's pouting, “oh, shush. you just don't want to share the attention, do you?”

meanwhile, geto is thoroughly enjoying the fact that he has your undivided attention, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and affection. “come on baby, lie here and let me put stars on you,” you giggle like a teenage girl who just got her first kiss from her crush. you pat a spot in front of you. geto grins at your giggling excitement, your enthusiastic invitation making him chuckle. he obliges, settling down in front of you, placing his head on gojo's stomach.

gojo, still feigning annoyance, huffs but can't help but also secretly enjoy the sight of the two of you together and the feeling of his boyfriend on his skin. “i feel like a piece of furniture here,” he complains jokingly. you puff a laugh, “come on, baby, don't be like that. i spend hours putting all these little stars on you,” you give him a peck on the lips, “i'll let you put stars on me too if you let me do him first, hm?” you caressing his arm that is now covered in colorful stars lovingly.

gojo's expression softens as you reassure him, his annoyance melting away under your gentle touch. “well, when you put it that way. . .” he mutters, reluctantly agreeing to your suggestion. he looks down at his arm, admiring the colorful stars you've drawn on it. “alright, fine,” he concedes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “but you're not allowed to complain if the stars i draw are messy.” you shook your head, “i won't baby.” you give him another peck on the lips and arm before smiling at him, your eyes sparkling as you look at him.

“you're such a baby, toru,” geto comments before rolling his eyes.

gojo huffs at geto's comment, playfully sticking his tongue out. “i'm not a baby,” he protests, his pout reemerging. “i just happen to appreciate the work my lovely artist is doing.”

you chuckle at their banter, amused by their sibling-like rivalry. “let him pout, babe,” you say to geto, patting gojo's stomach gently, “it's endearing.”

geto shakes his head, amused by gojo's sulking, “you're such a drama queen, satoru.” gojo sticks out his tongue again, clearly reveling in the banter. “oh, shut up. i'm just adding some entertainment to this little art session.” you try to hold back a laugh, enjoying the bickering between them. “alright, you two, can you behave for a little bit so i can finish?”

“besides,” you continue, grabbing a marker and shifting your attention to geto's bare torso, “he's just jealous he's not the center of attention right now.” you begin tracing a few stars on geto's chest, your fingertips grazing over his skin as you work.

geto lets out a content sigh as you begin drawing on his chest. his muscles flex slightly under your touch, a soft hum escaping his lips. he glances over at gojo, who is watching the two of you intently. “jealous, huh?” he teases, a lazy smirk on his face. “is his giant ego feeling threatened again?”

gojo huffs, but there's a playful gleam in his eye. “hey, i'm not jealous,” he defends, “i'm just. . . observant? and i happen to notice when i'm not the center of attention,” he pout, slightly rolling his eyes, realizing how stupid he sounds.

he pokes geto's side, causing him to jump slightly, still ticklish even in his relaxed state. “don't forget who's the real star here,” he adds, giving you a wink. geto swats away gojo's hand, rolling his eyes at his friend's antics. “yeah, yeah, keep reminding us all how great you are,” he quips back, his tone affectionate yet teasing.

you can't help but chuckle at their banter, finding it endearing how they can go from flirting with you to bickering like siblings in a matter of seconds. you continue working on geto's chest, tracing swirling patterns and stars over his smooth skin. geto's gaze drifts up to you, admiring your focused expression as you draw. he smiles, enjoying the feeling of your touch on his skin.

“you really love doing this, huh?” he comments, his voice is soft and affectionate. his purple irises never leave your face, drinking every second of you drawing little stars around his scars.

you glance up at him with a mischievous smile, “oh, absolutely. it’s not every day i get to add a touch of sparkle to such a handsome canvas. besides, watching you enjoy it so much makes it even more fun.” you lean in closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you continue your artwork. “i might just make this my new favorite hobby,” you give his skin a little kiss.

gojo, sensing an opportunity to steal some of the spotlight back, pipes up, “hey, what about me? I let you paint all over me too, ‘yknow.” you glance over at gojo, a coy smile playing on your lips. “oh, don't worry, baby. i didn't forget about you for even a moment.”

you reach over and give gojo's arm a reassuring caress, your fingers tracing over the colorful stars. “and you look adorable with all these stars on you.”

gojo grins, pleased that he's regained a bit of your attention. geto rolls his eyes affectionately, commenting, “there he goes again, always needing the attention.” gojo sticks out his tongue at geto in response, before turning his gaze back to you. “hey, it's nice to be appreciated, ‘yknow,” he whines, pouting like a child.

you laugh at his childish behavior, shaking your head in amusement. “oh, you're always appreciated, you big baby,” you say, giving him another affectionate caress.

geto chuckles, commenting again, “he's such a spoiled brat.” gojo, fully embracing his bratty attitude, puffs out his chest in mock pride. “damn right i'm a spoiled brat. the brat who gets all the attention.” geto rolls his eyes again but can't help but laugh at gojo's antics. “and he's proud of it too. such a child.”

you shake your head, continuing your work on geto's chest, enjoying the friendly banter between the two. gojo rolled his eyes before drifting his eyes to your bare thigh as you were still lying on your stomach, making his face eye-level with your thigh. gojo's eyes narrow upon noticing the bare skin of your thigh, exposed as you continue working on drawing on geto's chest. he can't help but admire the sight, his gaze fixated on the soft skin.

gojo's hand slowly creeps its way over, tracing a lazy pattern on the inside of your thigh, just above behind your knee. you stop for a moment to turn your head and see what gojo were doing before looking at geto who's already looking at him at the same time.

“just let him be, at least he's quiet,” you tell the boy before he gets a chance to throw another comment. a soft laugh escaped geto's lips, chuckles at your comment as he watches gojo's hand travel farther up your thigh, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over your skin.

he can tell from the look on gojo's face that he's completely distracted and fixated on your thigh, completely entranced by the sight before him. “oh, he's definitely not quiet,” geto comments, a small smirk on his face, “he's just drooling silently.” gojo's fingers continue to trace gently over your skin, his touch becoming more purposeful as he slowly inched his way upward. his eyes are half-lidded, his attention fully focused on the exposed skin of your thigh.

he doesn't even bother to respond to geto's comment, too lost in the sight of your bare leg, his mind wandering to all the things he wants to do to you. you shook your head, a defeated sigh leave your lips, “he's such a pervert.” geto simply chuckled at your comment, his gaze flickering over to gojo's fixated expression. “that's an understatement," he quipped.

geto nodded, his eyes following gojo's movements with a mix of amusement and resignation. “that he is. always fixated on the most inappropriate things.” he watches as gojo's hand moves higher, now gently caressing the sensitive skin just above your knee. “i swear, he has the tact of a child sometimes.”

gojo, still entranced by your thigh, finally snaps out of his daze upon hearing your comment. “baby, I'm not a pervert,” he protested, almost whining, though his voice lacked any real conviction, “i'm just. . . appreciating the view.” geto couldn't help but roll his eyes at gojo's weak defense. “yeah, sure you are,” he snorted, not buying it for a second.

he watched as gojo continued to caress your thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the soft skin. “appreciating the view, my ass,” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“more like salivating over it like a starving man,” he added, shaking his head in amusement. geto rolls his eyes, “‘appreciating the view’ with his eyes all glazed over and not a single coherent thought running through his brain.“

gojo huffs, but he doesn't protest further, knowing that there's a hint of truth in geto's words. his hand continues to wander up your thigh, his touch feather-light as he slowly inches towards the hem of your skirt. geto chuckled again, shaking his head at gojo's lack of denials.

“exactly,” he agreed, a smirk on his lips, “he's just a man controlled by his primal urges. and right now, his primal urge is to cop a feeling.” gojo pouts a little, but can't argue with geto's assessment. his hand slowly travels higher up your thigh, his touch becoming bolder, his fingers tracing the edge of your skirt, gently inching under the hem. “baby it's ticklish,” you move your leg the gojo's touch slightly.

gojo pauses his movements, hearing your protest. he glances up at you, a look of innocent concern on his face. “ticklish, huh?” he says, his hand still hovering just under the hem of your skirt, his index finger tracing small circles on your thigh.

gojo feigns innocence, “oops, my bad. i was just... exploring.” geto snorts, clearly amused by the interaction. “yeah, ‘exploring.’ that's one way to put it.” gojo rolled his eyes, feeling called out, but he can't deny the truth in geto's words. his finger continues to trace small circles on your thigh, his touch a mixture of feather-light and purposeful.

“i can't help it,” he defends, his voice sounding almost whiny, “you just have such soft skin, and... well, it's right there, begging to be touched." geto laughs again, shaking his head at gojo's feeble excuse. “right, it's all my fault. my skin just magically calls out to your wandering hands,” you mock, the sarcasm in your tone clear.

despite your sarcastic remarks, your expression holds a hint of amusement, clearly enjoying the banter. you glance down at where gojo's hand is gently caressing your thigh, his touch still light and teasing. “you're like a dog with a bone, ‘toru. once you get ahold of something, you just don't know how to let go.” gojo pouts again, feigning offense at geto's dog comment. “hey, i'm not a dog,” he replies, his hand still wandering higher up your thigh, almost reaching the bare skin under your skirt.

“and i can let go... when i want to,” he adds defiantly, “i just happen to really enjoy holding onto this particular... bone.” you rolled your eyes before sighing, continue to draw a stars around geto's torso “i swear I'm gonna die young with all of this headache you two gave me.” geto chuckles at your exasperated comment, enjoying the banter between the three of you. “hey, don't blame us for the inevitable early grave,” he replies with a smirk, “we're just adding a bit of excitement to your life.”

gojo, not wanting to be outdone, chimes in with a wink, “yeah, think of us as your personal stress relievers.”

you snort a little before nodding your head, sarcastically replying, “yeah right, more like adding more stress.” geto chuckles, “aw baby, don't be like that, you know from the start we don't promise you this relationship will be stress-free,” he pushes himself upward to give you kisses before lying back.

you playfully roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you continue to draw the stars on his torso, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. “oh, i know,” you reply, shaking your head in mock resignation. “but a girl can still hope, can't she?”

“yeah, sorry to break it to you, princess,” gojo jokingly says, his hand now gently gliding from your thigh to your hip, caressing the skin just above the hem of your skirt.

“but you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date us,” he adds, his voice laced with playful confidence. you take a deep breath, “that sucks,” supporting your face with one hand as you lazily draw on geto's skin. geto smirks, enjoying your half-hearted complaint. “yeah, it's pretty rough,” he replies sarcastically, “having two handsome and charming boyfriends who love and adore you. oh, the hardships you face.”

gojo pipes up, his hand continuing to explore your hip bone under your skirt, “oh, shut up. she should feel honored to have us.” you let out a laugh, shaking your head at their banter. despite your faux complaints, you secretly loved their back-and-forth banter, finding their playful bickering amusing.

“oh, trust me, i feel incredibly honored,” you retort with an affectionate eye roll, “having two massive, needy babies fighting for my attention all the time. it's a dream come true. now my mansion’s ballroom is a bit too crowded, and my collection of rare art pieces isn’t fitting in my oversized vault,” you sarcastically joke.

gojo and geto both roll their eyes playfully at your sarcastic comment, but they can't help but smile at your clever quip. geto laughs, shaking his head. “oh, yeah, it's such a burden having two wealthy, successful sorcerer— not to mention, the strongest in your life. your poor bank account is suffering.”

gojo chimes in with a grin, “and your poor heart must be strained from all the love and affection we shower on you.” you feign a sigh, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically. “oh, the struggles i face,” you say dramatically, your voice dripping with fake sadness. “having two handsome, charming men constantly pestering me for attention and showering me with gifts. it's absolutely terrible.”

gojo and geto exchange a knowing glance, both aware that you're laying on the sarcasm heavily. but they also know that deep down, you secretly love the attention they give you.

“oh, poor princess indeed,” geto says, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “it must be exhausting having two devoted boyfriends who worship the ground you walk on,” gojo sympatheticly said, tapping your ass. you let out a sigh, “i can't do anything about it, can i?” geto and hojo both give you playful grins, shaking their heads in unison.

“nope, not a damn thing,” gojo replies with a shrug, his hand still slowly tracing patterns on your hip under your skirt. geto chimes in, “you're stuck with us, princess. no backsies.”

“poor me,” you shook your head in defeat.

you tap geto's abs before changing your position to sitting, “now my turn,” you demand, giving the two boys a marker. pulling your crop top out of your body, leaving you on nothing but your pink bra and lying on your back on the floor. both boys stare at you with an almost predatory gleam in their eyes, clearly enjoying the sight before them. they take the markers from you, their gaze hungry and appreciative.

gojo twirls one of the markers in his hand, a sly smile on his lips, “oh, princess, you spoil us.” geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body, “you're giving us a blank canvas to work with. this should be fun.” both boys move closer to you, each taking one side of your body. gojo's hand begins tracing lines on your stomach, his touch firm and purposeful, while geto's fingers glide over your sides, drawing swirling patterns with the marker.

they work in tandem, their eyes occasionally locking with each other as they take in the sight of your body, their markers moving in perfect sync across your skin. “you're such a good canvas,” gojo murmurs, his voice low and husky.

“i know my love, now shut up and do your job,” you pinch his cheek softly. gojo and geto both chuckle at your demand, but they comply, focusing their attention back on your body, their fingers and markers gliding across your skin, their movements precise and deliberate.

“yes, ma'am,” gojo replies with mock obedience, his lips curving into a smirk. “we'll shut up and get back to work,” geto adds, his hand moving over your ribs, tracing small stars with his marker. they continue to draw on your bare skin, their eyes fixed on their task, their markers moving quickly as they fill in different areas. they occasionally glance at each other, exchanging secretive grins as they admire their work.

“you know,” gojo murmurs, his marker tracing the line of your hip bone, “we could do this every night if you wanted.” you raised your eyebrows, with a little smirk on your lips your replies, “or we could go to a tattoo shop and make this permanent,” you jokingly tells your boyfriends. gojo and geto both pause for a moment at the mention of tattoos, their eyes flickering towards each other. they exchange a glance, contemplating your suggestion.

gojo grins, the idea is clearly appealing to him. “you know, that's not a bad idea.” he says, returning his attention to drawing on your body. geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “yeah, we could mark you as ours permanently. make sure everyone knows who that gorgeous body belongs to.” they continue their work, their markers gliding across your skin, their touches becoming more possessive and claiming with every stroke.

“wouldn't it be hot?” gojo asks, his hand tracing an intricate pattern on your ribs, “you walking around covered in our marks, a permanent reminder that you're ours, body and soul.“ you chuckle, slightly amused by their reaction to your joke, “yeah, that's not gonna happen.” gojo and geto both pout playfully at your rejection of the idea, their eyes filled with mock disappointment.

“aww, come on,” gojo whines, his marker continuing to draw lines on your upper body, “why not? you'd look even hotter with a bunch of our tattoos all over you.” geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips, “yeah, imagine how jealous everyone would be, seeing all those ink marks on your body, knowing they can never touch you the same way we can.”

you snort, shaking your head while your eyes are focusing on the ceiling, “you're delusional, baby, nobody gonna feel that way.” both boys feign offense at your comment, their expressions hurt and indignant. “what do you mean, nobody's going to feel that way?” gojo protests, his marker pausing on your lower abdomen. “you're like, the most gorgeous person alive. of course, people would be jealous.”

geto nods in agreement, his fingers tracing a star on your hip, “yeah, you underestimate your own allure. you're a walking dream, princess.” you breathe a hearty laugh, ruffle your boyfriends' hair, “you guys are so sweet, you're making me feel good about myself, no wonder why i love you two so much.”

they continue their work, their markers and fingers moving in synchronized harmony, filling in the spaces on your body with their artwork. gojo glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his expression soft and loving, “you know we adore you, right? every inch of you, inside and out.”

geto nods, his gaze drifting over your body, appreciating every line and contour. “you're our world, princess. we're hopelessly smitten with you.” their words hang in the air, their sincerity and admiration for you clear in their voices. their markers continue to glide over your skin, their touch gentle and reverent.

they finish up their artwork, their markers making a few final strokes before they both sit back and admire their work. they move their gazes over your body, taking in every mark and design they've made. “there,” gojo says, a satisfied smile on his lips, “perfect.”

geto's eyes roaming over your body. “damn, you look even sexier covered in our artwork.” they both take a moment to appreciate their handiwork, their eyes roaming over your body, their expressions filled with pride and satisfaction. the artwork they've drawn on your skin is intricate and beautiful, a masterpiece of their combined effort.

“you really do look amazing,” gojo murmurs, his hand gliding over your hip. “we did a damn good job,” geto says, his gaze lingering on your stomach, “our masterpiece in the flesh."

you look down at the artwork adorning your skin, your eyes widening with genuine admiration. a playful smile spreads across your face as you turn to face them. “well, i must say, you two make quite the artistic team. if this is your idea of a masterpiece, i’d say you’ve outdone yourselves. i might have to start charging for these kinds of commissions!” you give them both a teasing wink, clearly impressed by their work.

you flash them a sly grin and say, “alright, art critics, i need you to snap a photo of your masterpiece. i’m sure you’ll want to show this off as much as i do. so, let’s get that camera ready—this level of artistry deserves to be immortalized, don’t you think?” uou strike a dramatic pose, making sure the artwork is front and center.

they both burst out laughing at your playful words, their eyes gleaming with amusement. they're both clearly pleased by your praise and appreciate your playful banter. gojo grins widely, his hands already moving to fish out his phone. “oh, princess, you have no idea. this isn't just a masterpiece, it's a work of art that should be displayed in a museum."

“damn right,” geto agrees, his eyes still wandering over your body, admiring the artwork he and gojo created. he leans over to grab his own phone, ready to capture the perfect shot of you and their masterpiece. “no need to tell us twice, we’ll document this masterpiece, alright. say cheese.”

gojo and geto both aim their phones at you, framing the artwork on your skin with the camera lenses. they snap a few shots, each from a different angle, making sure to capture every intricate detail of their masterpiece. gojo grins as he reviews the pictures on his phone, his eyes roaming over the image with approval. “damn, we've really outdone ourselves this time,” giving the boy beside him a high-five.

geto nods in agreement, admiring the pictures on his own screen. “that's an understatement. you look even hotter than i could have imagined.” they can't help but laugh as you strike a dramatic pose, clearly enjoying yourself. “that's right baby, just like that, look at you, you look like you're ready for a magazine cover,” gojo chuckles to himself, his finger hovering over the camera button.

“or the cover of a high-end art book,” geto adds, a smirk on his lips. “alright, smile pretty for the camera, princess.” you flash a radiant smile, channeling your inner supermodel as you strike a pose, knowing full well that you look absolutely fabulous.

gojo and geto both snap more pictures, clearly enjoying capturing your beauty and the artwork covering your body. “damn, you're a natural,” gojo says, studying the photos on his phone. “we should frame these and hang them up in our rooms.”

“oh? we're gonna hang it up in our rooms?” you ask, a glint of something flashing in your eyes. “well, we better make it worth it.”

so locking your eyes with them, slowly and sensually you take off your pink bra, holding it between your fingers while your other hand covers your breast. playfully, you throw your bra at them before laughing. gojo and geto's eyes widen in surprise as you seductively remove your bra and playfully throw it at them. they both can't help but grin, their gazes immediately locking onto your bare chest.

“damn, baby, you really know how to make a statement,” gojo murmurs, his eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin. geto smirks, catching your bra in his hand and hanging it around his neck, his eyes roaming over your chest. “you definitely make hanging up those pictures worth it.” you are lying on your side with your elbow kneeling on the carpet to support your head while your other hand is still covering your bare chest.

“come on, boys, take a picture of me,” you smile at them. they both raise their phones again, their gazes never leaving your form as you strike yet another provocative pose. their hands hold the camera steadily, their fingers poised over the camera button, their eyes still fixed on your body.

“fuck, you look incredible,” gojo breathes, his eyes roving over you, taking in every inch of flesh on display. geto grins, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “you’re making us want to drop these phones and pounce on you right now, princess.” they both snap a few more photos, focusing on different parts of your body, capturing every curve and contour in all its naked glory. their expressions are filled with desire and admiration as they take in the images on their screens.

“you're a goddamn goddess,” gojo murmurs, his eyes lingering on a particularly risqué photograph of you before adding, “and remember to stay just like that, princess.”

“agreed,” geto nods, his eyes roaming over the photo of you, clearly appreciating every detail. “this is something to keep in our private collection for sure.” you give them a sultry smile, “well, if you’re this impressed now, just wait until you see what i have in store for our private collection. keep those photos safe—I’m planning to give you both plenty more to admire.” you strike a playful pose, teasingly adjusting your position to give them an even better view. gojo and geto exchange a knowing look, their eyes lighting up with excitement and anticipation. they clearly love your playful attitude and the promise of more to come.

“oh, we'll be keeping these photos very safe,“ geto chuckles, his eyes never leaving your body as he continues to take pictures, “and we'll be eagerly awaiting whatever else you have in store for us.”

gojo smirks, his gaze roaming over your body once again, “you really know how to work a camera, princess.“ you look up to them, giving your boyfriends doe eyes as you remove your hand— now fully flashing them your breast. “don't stop now,” you murmur. the tip of your feet moving slowly to geto's abs, purposely open your legs knowing you are wearing nothing underneath your skirt except your pink underwear.

gojo and geto both freeze, their eyes widening as you slowly stretch your feet to press against geto's stomach, your legs opening to reveal your skimpy panties. they're both momentarily speechless, their gazes fixated on your seductive pose.

“holy hell,” gojo gasps, his hands clenching around the edge of his phone as he struggles to take more pictures. “fuck, princess, you're incredible,” geto breathes, his voice low and thick with desire as he looks down at your legs. they both start snapping more pictures, their hands shaky as they try to capture every moment of your seductive display. gojo's eyes dart down to your open legs, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he admires the sight between your thighs.

“can't believe how damn shameless you are,” he groans, his gaze still fixed on your body. geto nods in agreement, his fingers gliding over his phone screen, “you're driving us crazy, princess. you know just how to push our buttons.“ gojo's hand moves quickly, his fingers grasping the edge of your skirt and giving it a firm tug, revealing the skimpy pink fabric of your panties. he quickly raises his phone and snaps a picture, his gaze fixated on the lacy material that's barely covering your most intimate parts.

“fuck, you're a sight to behold,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

geto leans closer, his eyes locked on the photo on the phone screen as he adds, “and I didn't think you could get even hotter, but here we are.” they both can't help but admire the photo, their gazes taking in every detail of your exposed skin and the lacy underwear— already planning on their mind about making it as their home screen. gojo's fingers move over the phone screen again, zooming in to get a closer look at the delicate fabric clinging to your skin.

“you really know how to make things difficult for us, princess,” he mutters, his eyes tracing the contour of your hips and thighs outlined by the thin material. geto chuckles, a smirk on his lips as he adds, “we're not gonna be able to concentrate on anything else tonight after seeing this.”

“now, now, wanna try to make me see stars?” your toe slowly moving to the contour of geto's abs making their eyes light up at your words, their lips curving into wicked grins. they both know exactly what you're implying, and they're both more than willing to make it happen.

gojo's gaze darkens, a sly smile on his lips as he sets his phone down. “oh princess, you don't have to ask us twice,” he replies, stepping closer. geto also sets his phone down, a similar expression on his face as he moves closer to you. “we'll make you see the whole damn universe, sweetheart.”

“why don’t we take this party to the bedroom?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eye. gojo and geto both nod in agreement, their eyes filled with desire and eagerness. “i like the way you think, princess,” gojo murmurs, his hand already reaching out to take yours, his touch firm and possessive. geto brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin. “lead the way, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and suggestive.

they help you to stand from the floor. you take their hands, holding their finger before pulling them toward your shared bedroom. “come on, boys,” your voice is soft, sensual, like a siren singing for their prey. you turn around, once again flashing them your bare chest— a jeans skirt and a pair of socks are the only fabric on your body.

their gazes roam over your body as you flash them, their eyes hungrily taking in your bare chest, the exposed skin on your thighs and legs, and the soft fabric of your socks. they both make appreciative noises, their grips on your hand tightening slightly as they follow you towards the bedroom. gojo's eyes roam over your body, his voice low and gruff as he says, “you really know how to make an entrance.”

geto smirk, his gaze still fixated on your curves as he adds, “we're gonna have so much fun with you.” you reach the bedroom, and enter the room, the air thick with anticipation. the boys are right behind you, their hands still intertwined with yours, their eyes still trailing over your nearly naked body with hungry gazes.

gojo closes the door behind him, a sly smile on his lips as he locks it. “now that we're alone, princess,” he says, his voice dripping with desire, “we can focus all our attention on you.”

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fieldsofwriting · 5 months

Text

And so the stars aligned. Pt 3

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader.

Summary: After a few weeks of Azriel teaching you to read, your sisters confront you about how much time you’re spending with him.

Warnings: Some slight suggestive stuff? Nothing explicit.

Ageless and MDNI

a/n: I know that I should probably- not upload so often. However, this has been knawing at my brain all day and I really just needed to post it so I can write the next part.

Part One, Part two, Part Four Requests are open!! Masterlist

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You and Azriel walked up toward the exit of the Library after yet another reading lesson. Your arms linked, as you let your hand rest on his forearm. He always offered you a hand, an arm, something to keep you close to him. Not that you minded being closer to him. The Illyrian was tall, warm, and very easy to hold onto. His scarred hands never purposely reached for yours, but sometimes you’d brush hands as you exchanged books or he delicately took the pencil from you to help you spell. You’d have to think pure thoughts for the next few hours. Keeping your mind off of what you wanted to feel them doing.

For about two weeks you’d meet here for a few hours each day and practice your writing, spelling, reading, and anything else Azriel deemed important for you to know. Clotho had stopped him apparently from bringing in a punching bag to train you. You couldn’t help but laugh so hard tears gathered and your stomach hurt after, when you walked down to the fifth floor only to see him pouting about it. "You big Illyrian baby." You coo'd after your laughs died down. And you rubbed his shoulders a little. He hadn't looked you in the eyes that day. But the lessons were working, you could now confidently read through the stack of books he brought to every meeting.

“I think we can upgrade to chapter books soon.” He speaks up, pulling your attention away from your thoughts. His warm, honey gaze finds yours as he lets a soft smile break through that normally stoic face of his.

“You think so?” You hum, with a slight tinge of hope. Maybe you could actually read the book you toted around thanks to him.

Azriel nods, closing his eyes as he does so. “Mmh. You’ve got the foundation down. Now we expand it.” His voice is smooth and calm. He spoke with ease, and somewhere deep within you it made you feel safe, calm. You’d wondered if that’s why you learned so quickly, because the words you didn’t know- they sounded like rich, warm melty chocolate in his voice. And you’d repeat it in your head all night long as you laid there in bed recounting your day. You didn't want to admit to yourself how late you stayed up thinking about him.

Your reply to Az gets cut short however as you hear your oldest sister's voice cut through the library. “Ah! If it isn’t our one and only, y/n.” Her voice drips in condescension, and normally you could handle Nesta. She didn’t scare you, not like the others at least. You knew her and knew that tone, you knew that tone of voice all too well. She was like a lion ready to pounce. Relentless teasing awaited you as you gazed at your sister. And she knew it too, watching you with a feline smirk as her hands rested on her hips in a power pose.

“Nesta.” You nod at her, removing your arm from where it had safely rested in the crook of Azriel’s arm. Immediately feeling colder, less protected. Vulnerable in front of your sister now. You felt the cool swirling sensation of Azriel’s shadows rising to attention, aware and ready to pull you back if needed. Nesta raised an eyebrow at the two of you, a slight smirk she tried to will into nothing. “How can I help you?” It was then you noticed your other two sisters, and now your brow furrowed. Elain stood smiling dumbly, like a love sick little puppy at Azriel. Her eyes raking over him. Something in her gaze made the hair on your arms stand, and you wanted her to stop looking at him like a piece of meat. Feyre stood watching you with a quirked eyebrow and a little grin. Her blue grey eyes shinning in amusement, like she too couldn’t wait to tease you. But it wasn’t everyday your sisters came together. Had something happened? Was everything okay?

Nesta looks Azriel up and down, not in the same way Elain had been. No she was sizing him up, in a fight you’re not sure the shadowsinger would win. Squinting at him before using her chin to motion him out. “We can assist her home. Thank you.” Nesta’s tone leaves no room for argument. Azriel for the briefest moment locks eyes with you. Asking you silently if you’d be okay with that, so you give a subtle nod. His shadows swirl around him again, something that was less common when it was just you too. They always pooled around your feet like a dog. You wondered if you could pet them. Unable to help the smile that spreads, you give a small wave to see him off. Watching him hesitate as he looked at you and your sisters, but his eyes glossed over and he chuckled lowly under his breath. And gods what you wouldn’t do to hear that sound again. Feyre must have said something to him with her daemanti powers.

So with that, Azriel left your side. Albeit a little unwillingly as he pressed a kiss to your temple before glaring at Nesta as she coo'd at you. He disappeared into the shadows. Leaving you now with your sisters who were all staring at you expectantly. Suddenly you felt like you were nothing but a child in front of them. Caught with your hand in the cookie jar and chocolate smeared on your face. Subconsciously you wiped your lips. "…hello." You greeted.

Nesta continued to smirk as she watched you. Knowing what her gaze did to her youngest sister. She uses her head to motion them out, not waiting for anyone to argue with her. And the rest of the Archerons followed suit, finally, Feyre speaks up, as if she didn’t just bombard you and demand you go with her. "So, will you join us for lunch?"

"I don't think I had a choice." You jest, elbowing her playfully. Feyre looks over at you with slightly wide eyes, as if feigning hurt, before her smile breaks through. Her laughter becoming instantly contagious. “Whose idea was this?" You look over at Nesta and Elain.

"Why must there be a reason for sisters to hang out?" Elain shrugs, looking at you with an amused smile and shooting you a wink. Squinting at your sister she can’t help but just smile more. Nesta just winks at you as she leads you to Rita's, it didn't surprise you that it was Nesta's favorite restaurant. With the vibrant music that always played, sometimes accompanied with bad karaoke singers; those were your favorite nights. Rita’s was a busy place- easy for conversations to get lost amongst others. Oh, and of course, the food was delicious. You truly didn't mind going out to lunch with your sisters, it was nice to have an actual familial bond with them.

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Conversation came easy as you all discussed everything and anything. Catching up with each other like old friends, part of it made you long for this in your girlhood. It would have made those years of poverty just a little brighter. Feyre told everyone how Rhys was trying to teach Nyx to fly, except for the fact that Nyx's wings were still too floppy to work. You admired the way that she lit up talking about her family. Seeing her happy meant that maybe you’d be that happy one day too. Nesta tells everyone about Gywn and Emerie's recent book recommendations. And her words made you long for friends that could talk back, unlike the flowers in the gardens. Elain discusses her garden plans- and even asks what they think about her opening a flower shop. You wondered if she’d let you work there, it be so nice to get out of the house. To have a purpose.

And then- like the vultures that your sisters were, their eyes landed on you. Blinking owlishly at them, you noted Feyres smirk. Nesta had a raised eyebrow as she rested her head on her intertwined fingers. Elain had her hands folded neatly in front of her. This just became an interrogation. "…what?" You ask, looking around to see if there is a reason why they're looking at you like this. Your heart beating a mile a minute, and you tried to subtly wipe your now sweaty palms on your dress. “Did I do something?”

"Let's get to the real tea." Feyre grins, setting her drink down and putting a hand on yours. She knew physical touch was one way to help you calm down. She’d offended used it to help comfort you as a child. "What is going on with you and Azriel."

You blink again and suddenly- you can't help the laughter that erupts from you. They had truly thought something was going on with you and Azriel! As if it wasn't obvious that Azriel was hopelessly in love with Elain! You wave away the ridiculously thoughts coming out of your sisters mouths. “You guys are ridiculous" You laugh, sighing heavily as you continue to grin. "Nothing is going on between us."

"He meets with you every Friday for hours," Elain says sharply. Her tone catching you and your other sisters off guard. And for a second, your hurt. Hurt that she could ever use that tone with you, not believe the words you were saying. "Something is going on."

Your eyes lock onto Elain's and there's anger in hers. She's upset about it, upset that you made a friend. She had friends! She had Cerridwen, and Nuala! The was two more than you had. Ever. Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you watch how she tries to intimidate you into answering her. Was this how you looked that first night in the Library? Is that why Azriel laughed at you? Elain looked as harmless as a kitten. "Nothing like your thinking." You reply cooly, trying not to start a fight with your sister. That was the last thing you wanted to do, and Cauldron. It would ruin the friendship you and Azriel had just started to form. That hot headed, stubborn Archeron temper didn’t need to come out now. Not when there was another hardheaded and stubborn Archeron in front of you.

"So then it shouldn't be a big deal to tell us." Elain snaps back. Nesta and Feyre exchange a look at the two of you. You can feel your blood boiling at her tone. But you knew you had to stay cool, calm and level headed. So as gingerly as you can, you reply.

"It's none of your business." And you would have thought you just insulted Elain by the way her face twisted with rage. She puts her hands on the table and stands with a swift, graceful movement. The chair loudly scooting out from behind her, dragging attention to the table. But Elain didn’t seem to care. Staring at you with fire in her eyes, like logs on a campfire.

"As your sister, it is. And as someone who is in lov-"

Knowing exactly what was about to come out of her mouth, you feel the ugly green monster boiling up inside you. You couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. She had a mate. Someone who wasn't Azriel. What happened when Azriel found his mate? What then? Would she demand that he stay away? It was ridiculous. An absolute ridiculous thing to say and expect of someone else. In a less graceful, more forceful way. Your chair shoots out the same way, and you thank the mother Feyre grabbing it before it could fall. You match Elain's actions as you glower at her. Surprised by how low your voice had gotten, "You have a mate. That you claim you don't love because you simply refuse to get to know him. Lucien is a kind man, he gets you a Winter Solstice present every year and tries to make it as thoughtful as he can while knowing so little about you. He is allowing-"

"Allowing?" Elain laughs shortly, "I should be grateful for him allowing me to reject him?" Her eyes bare into yours as if she is trying to find any little thread to unravel you with.

"Have you even told him you rejected him!?" You shout back at her. You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, people were usually quiet, and gentle with Elain. And here you were screaming at her in a bar…

Elain's face drops but it doesn't stop you from going in again, despite knowing you had made your point. This was about more than just her rejection of Lucien. It was about the lack of care and compassion your sister showed a man who tried to help her. "He is allowing you space- which you asked for, mind you! He could be all over you; there are horror stories of mates, Elain! But instead of trying to get to know him you instead clung onto someone else. And what? You're in love with someone else's mate? Lucien is a good, kind man. And it’s also not his fault that you were mated from the moment you stepped out of the cauldron. But he tried to be there for you. Badgered us about getting you food and sunlight. Even now! He writes you letters, but do you ever answer? Do you give him the time of day? I’m not saying you owe him your affection, but I am saying he deserves a mate who is willing to try.”

The table is silent for a moment. Letting your words hang in the air before Elain holds her head higher. "Mates do not have to be accepted."

"Elain." Nesta snaps, "Y/n has a point. You are in love with someone else's mate. You see how happy Cassian had made me, helped pick up my broken pieces! Showed me love while I healed. How happy Rhys makes Feyre! Giving her a life she could have never dreamt of. You can't so easily dismiss Lucien without at least trying."

"Oh, and you were one to so easily accept your mate?" Elain lashed out. Her eyes turning slightly misty. You quickly exchange a glance with Feyre who looks just as concerned as you. And the hurt on Nesta's face was there for just a split second before she steeled herself and opened her mouth-

"He's been teaching me how to read." You answer the first question quickly, looking down at your glass. Your reflection reminded you of your younger years again. Your sisters arguing at the table as you ate a meal you prepared. Trying to keep from your cheeks redding as your sisters turned to you. You could just imagine their expressions, shocked, disappointed and maybe a little upset you hadn’t asked one of them. Not being able to read was the last thing you wanted to admit, but you'd rather embarrass yourself than have them at each other's throats. There had been so much fighting in this world recently. There didn't need to be more. The fighting didn’t need to be between sisters. You dared to look up at them, Feyre was smiling gently as she reached out and took your hand. Giving a gentle squeeze. She understood you the most, both of you didn’t have the education that the other two did. Nesta looked at her water, frowning and contemplative. It was almost as if she looked guilty. Elain found a spot on the table interesting. The silence was too heavy, so you continued, "He realized the book I always carried around…he realized I wasn't reading it. And so he tricked me, got me down into the library, and made me try to read…ever since then he's been teaching me…"

"You know, Rhys also taught me how to read." Feyre supplies to help ease the tension. “By making me write about how handsome and charming he was.” Nesta and you snort, rolling your eyes affectionately at your brother in law. Feyre takes your hand better, giving another squeeze. “And now I can read and write just fine. And I would bet good money that Azriel is a better teacher than him." She winks. You gave her a thankful smile.

"He says we can move onto chapter books soon…" A small smile spreads across your face as you recount what had happened just a few hours earlier. "Maybe I can join your book club then, Nes." You look at your oldest sister in hopes of pulling her out of her thoughts. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel guilty about it, your father should have picked up the slack. Not her. Nesta looks up at you, smiling back at you with a softness rarely seen.

"If you can handle it." She shrugs with a half committed grin. After another beat of silence she sighs, reaching across the table to take your other hand. "I'm sorry. Like Feyre, I had no idea where your lessons started and how much you knew…"

Shaking your head, you squeeze her hand. "It wasn't your job. You were a child just like me. If anyone should have stepped up it was Dad. And besides, reading wasn't going to help us get out of poverty. We did what we could. And now, we have a life of comfort…" You give another thankful smile to Feyre. "Thanks for mating the most powerful High Lord in Prythian." You tease, your sisters laugh unexpectedly at the comment. It was a strange thing to thank Feyre for. There was so many things you could have thanked her for- and yet you chose her mate. But Feyre didn’t seem to mind, she welcomed it with open arms. Bowing her head as if to say ‘you’re welcome.’

Then, when the laughter died down, you look over at Elain, "And if you want me to stop the lessons with Azriel then I will. I'm sure we can get me a tutor now that I know the basics."

Elain raises her head to look at you and then sighs. Shaking her head, "No. You're right. I haven't been fair in demanding attention from Azriel, giving him my heart so easily when…when I haven't given my own mate the chance. Truthfully, I'm just scared. To lose someone like I lost Greyson. I thought… I thought for sure Greyson would love me no matter what. I thought our love was stronger than just some pointy ears. And,” She pauses as she purses her lips. Nesta gently rubs her back, Feyre takes her hand as you take the other. Gathering around her in support. “And i’m scared that something with happen to Lucien as well. I see how much you love your mates and I just- I just couldn’t bear to loose anyone like that again.” Elain lets out a shaky breath at her confession, squeezing you and Feyre’s hands. “Azriel would be a good partner. I know to expect him to leave at times…" She leans back into the chair and lets out a whistful sigh, "Plus he's hot."

That gets the table to erupt into laughter again, "As if Lucien isn't?" You ask playfully.

"Oh please, Illyrian men are the way to go." Nesta winks, "They don't talk about the wing spans for no reason."

"Gross!" You giggle as the conversation starts up again, becoming easier between you and your sisters. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you arrived back at the River house, laughter still surrounded you and your sisters. The four of you make your way into the living room to continue your fun night, but find it already occupied with the Inner Circle. Spread across the rooms with various wine bottles, and a few snacks scattered about.. "Hello, Feyre Darling." Rhys greets and gets up, taking her in his arms, "We couldn't let you have all the fun. Now could we?" He smirks, looking over at you and your sisters. “Did you girls have a goodnight?”

“Not as good as the one here.” You muse, crossing the room to grab some of the charcuterie board they had left. “Rita’s doesn’t have fancy meat.”

“At least not when you’re not there.” Cassian ribs, elbowing Rhys as he passes by. Rhys’s quip back gets lost in the laughter the ensues from your joke. And as Cassian always does, presses a kiss to Feyre's cheek. He ruffles your hair, causing you to make a small noise of disapproval before quickly smoothing out your hair. He kisses Elain's hand before he pulls Nesta into his arms. Kissing her swiftly, causing you to avert your eyes.

You hear some shuffling and look up to find Azriel coming closer, something you noted he only did when he wasn’t trying to sneak up on people. His footsteps so light that he want to accidentally spook anyone. You smile at him as you notice for once he wasn't in his leathers. But that didn't mean that he wasn't still insanely attractive. It was unfair how effortless it seemed to be for him. A pair of black jeans that were a bit looser than his normal pants but still hugged his thighs, a long-sleeved blue knit shirt that had the sleeves pushed up to show off his forearms. Showing off more scars, His siphon-topped hands shoved into his pockets. Even his casual dress made you feel under and over-dressed at the same time. Your sisters and you usually wore dresses- Nesta and Feyre opted for Illyrian leathers while training. But you had done none of it, so here you stood in front of him in a plain purple sundress. Smoothing out the fabric you looked up at him with a gentle smile. "Did you have a good night?"

Azriel nods, a faint smile from him almost had you trying to catch your breath. His attention focused so innately on you, that nothing else seemed to matter. "Better now that you're here. Rhys and Cass wouldn't stop complaining about how much they missed their mates." He sighs heavily, not revealing the smirk that graces his features to anyone but you. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet giggle, shaking your head at him. His beautiful hazel eyes glimmering with amusement.

"We did not!" Cassian interrupts, pulling you and Azriel from your moment. Nesta still pressed into his arms as she held onto him. "Don't let him fool you, y/n." He pouts, “We weren’t the only ones complaining!”

You raise your eyebrow and look at Elain. She shares the amusement. "Cassian, with all due respect. You are annoying about Nesta even when she's in the next room over." Elain teases and you cover your mouth to stop the bark of laughter. But it’s too late, the room is filled with it.

"Do you hear them, Nessie?" Cassian pouts and barries his face into her neck. "They're being mean to me." Nesta laughs and pats his back. Looking at the rest of you with playful exhaustion.

"You big baby, you can take it." She offers no sympathy to her mate, who only whines in her arms. Causing Nesta to roll her eyes and look over at you and Elain again. "Drama king." She mouths.

And something about the normalcy in your sister's affection, loving her mate so openly. Being held with no reservations, bantering and kissing, and….being loved. Both of them…it causes that ache in your heart again. The crippling loneliness. Even Elain had found a spot next to Mor and Amren, letting them pour her a drink. You can't bear to watch it, it hurts too much. To feel so outside, like a stranger peering through a window. You step away from Azriel, unaware of his his eyes quickly follow you, ensure you aren’t going too far. He’s about to offer an arm when you yawn and stretch. "I think it's time to head up to bed." You give a tight-mouth smile to everyone else and bid them goodnight. Ignoring the boo’s from a tipsy Mor.

Azriel follows you up though. He’d seen the sudden change in your demeanor, almost like you closed yourself off from the family. He didn’t know what was said to you tonight, but he’d assure you til dawn if anything he deemed wrong.

You hadn't noticed him until he cleared his throat, just outside your bedroom door. Causing you to startle as you looked back. "Azriel!" You hiss as you put a hand over your heart with a little laugh. Azriel looked like a kicked puppy, his beautiful hazel eyes wide, eyebrows raised in surprise. You hadn't ever expected to see that look on his face, biting your lip to stop a laugh.

"I'm sorry!" He rushes, "I thought you knew!”

You let out the laugh that you were holding back and shake your head. "Oh, Azriel." You giggle and shake your head as you pat his bicep, the sheer size of it made your hand look downright childish. So small in comparison to all that muscle. "It's alright, don't worry. Did you need something?"

He cleared his throat, in the dim faelighting you could have sworn that you saw a blush creeping up on his cheeks. You pushed away the thoughts of how adorable he was. "I, wanted to make sure that you were okay." He whispers as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, refusing to meet your gaze. Watching how it darts around like he is growing more and more anxious by the second. You had never seen the Spy Master like this- so flustered and awkward. It made you wonder what he and the rest of the Inner Circle talked about while you were gone today. Cassian mentioned someone else complaining… was it him? Was he complaining about your lessons?

You blink at his words, finally registering them, before tilting your head. "…yes? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your sisters all but kidnapped you." He says simply. His eyes finds yours again as he raises an eyebrow at you. Slightly worried that you might have forgotten. His eyes also shine with amusement as he recalls the way they'd shown up. Only for himself to be bombarded when he returned to the River House as well. No doubt Feyre, Rhys, Nesta and Cassian’s doing. Nosy fuckers. "Nesta was…" Azriel shivers as he recalls her glance. Shaking his head you laugh again at his reaction, patting his arm again. He couldn’t help but also notice the size difference between you two and it drives him up a wall.

"They just wanted to know my intentions with you Azzy." You wink, and on the Shadowsingers face was definitely a blush. "Don't worry I assured them it was nothing but evil, evil plots of learning how to read to start a coup." You continue to tease him.

Azriel glares lightly at you, but any harshness in his eyes soften the minute you giggle so hard you snort and lean into him. Resting your forehead on his chest- the closer you’d ever been to him. The way you did so in such a simple, effortless way…touching him and laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world. His heart races out of his chest as he looks down at you, shocked as he doesn’t quite know what to do, his shadows curling around your ankles and his hands on your hips to keep you from falling back as you laugh- still dazed by the pure beauty of…you and it snaps. The mating bond. You were his mate.

His.

From now until the end of time. You were his, and he was yours. And it suddenly felt like everything in this world made sense. Holding you in his arms would feel like home, never again would it feel like he didn’t have a place in this world again. Because his place was next you. Starting from this day on. Now and forever. It feels as if his entire life had been an endless storm, constantly searching for salvation only to find it in your smile. The darkness that enveloped him washed away by your laugh. The self deprecating thoughts eased by a touch of your hand…there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. The snapping of the bond felt as if though part of him had truly become complete. There was no greater honor than being yours. So holy dedicated to you.

If he were a lesser man, he would have surged forward and pressed his lips to yours. Needing to feel the touch of your skin against his. Giving in to his primal instincts. Tugging you closer as you both accept the bond and two- became one. Over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t move anymore.

But Azriel looks at you as you smile up at him. So innocent in the way only someone who had no idea what dirty thoughts were coming through his mind. Completely unaware of what you had just done to him. How you now had him wrapped around your finger forever and always. And then, like a freight train crashing he realized.

It hadn't snapped for you…

"Goodnight Az." You whisper as you lean up, one hand delicately on his chest, the other squeezing his forearm to help keep you steady, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." With that, you stepped into your room closing the door. Leaving Azriel in the hallway alone, again. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: This one was really fun to write! Also, if you guys wanna know the dress I was picturing for the reader, its this one here. If yall have anything you wanna see, or wanna be added to the taglist let me know! tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21

#azriel x reader #acotar series #acotar fanart #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #nesta acotar #pro nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #pro elain #elain archeron #elain x lucien #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #cassian acotar

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three-realms-archive · 2 months

Text

A Weak Wrist

Second oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

“You will tell me what happened, Leviathan.”

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at the scene before him. You, on the floor and clutching your wrist. Leviathan, on the other side of the room and in demon form, holding a first aid kit he had taken out of the cabinet. Lucifer had opened the door just as Leviathan had taken out a bandage and started swinging his arm, as if to throw it to you as if feeding a scared, wild animal. When Lucifer had asked, his younger brother suddenly couldn’t look him in the eye - instead, Levi looks to you for a response.

You say nothing. This is hardly new to Lucifer, who had noticed that he only tends to see you in shared classes or family dinners recently. He’d watch you joke and laugh with his brothers so easily, which was pretty good news. Finally, the human was behaving themselves. Strangely, though, Levi’s face takes an uncharacteristically serious expression. As if steeling himself for your sake.

“W-We, uh, were trying out this new video-game I got for family game night. There’s, like, a mat… A mat! With arrows you hop on. To, um, play.” Levi explains. “But they… they fell. Their wrist, they fell on it and it got hurt. Badly.”

“I’m fine, Levi. My wrist is - ah, ah - weak, anyway.” You try to respond, growling through gritted teeth when you try to roll your wrist around. Your heart softens when Levi mumbles what seems to be “… because of me.” and shake your head. You clamp your eyes shut to prepare and attempt - again - to rotate your hand about your wrist.

The pain is brutal… but at least it distracts from the even-more painful memories of a quiz with a demon; and the injury to your wrist that resulted in it being so prone to injury.

“You’re not going anywhere like that. Here.” Lucifer sighs, massaging his forehead. Weak, vulnerable humans. He doesn’t see you freeze. “Take my arm. We’ll go to the dining room, get you some water and sit you down with an ice pack.”

“…”

You don’t respond. This is hardly new to Lucifer, yet he finds himself irritated.

“MC. That’s not a request.” He raises his voice, moving closer and offering his hand to you - and you flinch. Away from him. Lucifer is confused because what had he done, other than offer you assistance?

You, frozen as solid as ice, provide little to no answer to that question. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer notices Leviathan gulp, holding his breath, eyes darting between his older brother and his best friend. His concentration flickering and one can almost see the imaginary cursor struggling to choose between two options of the visual novel scene playing in his mind.

‘Say something.’

‘Say nothing.’

Levi chooses the latter, but turns to you. He opens his arms rather awkwardly. And then, you have to make the choice instead.

Inwardly, Lucifer huffs. Levi had caused your injury then, and he had caused it now. And offering a hug, of all things? How naive. Lucifer let his eyes meet yours, not feeling the need to offer anything more than he already had.

… But Lucifer feels something foreign and unpleasant in his chest when he watches you walk across the room - and into Leviathan’s arms. He watches the third-born brother stutter in shock, taking a few minutes to process - before scrambling to meet you halfway. And why wouldn’t he need to process that? Why wouldn’t Leviathan be surprised, after being the reason for your weak wrist in the first place? After all; Lucifer had been right there, the eldest’s arm slightly bent at the elbow, ready for you to place your hand. Ready to lend you support. Irritatingly, annoyingly ready to do anything for you… and for you to do anything - anything - remotely significant to him.

Ready to receive the forgiveness you seemed to give to everyone else so damn easily over the last few months. Had you forgotten that all of his family, in one way or another, had a part to play in your hurt just as much as Belphegor?

You, Diavolo’s exchange student, had finally been behaving, ever since Belphie. Lucifer had been proud of himself for taming you, because murder was commonplace in the Devildom. He had thought that witnessing it for yourself was just the lesson you needed to stay away from danger. You never speak to him unless spoken to. You had stay in your room when he was home. You freeze when he’s near. You let yourself be cradled by demons who had almost snapped your arm in the midst of a fit of envy; and would rather that than even come within six metres of his arm. You stayed far away from danger. You stayed farther away from Lucifer. And the combination of his pride and distance from you had made admitting that impossible for him. Admitting that his brothers had been spending the past few months trying; reaching out to you.

Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, had not.

So - having met in the middle of the room - Lucifer watches as you stay with Leviathan. Levi doesn’t quite know what to do with his arms, so the two of you huddle together like penguins looking for warm, under Lucifer’s icy stare. Every now and again, you cautiously peer over Levi’s shoulder. Your knuckles turn white from gripping Levi’s hoodie fabric. Your eyes meet with those of the Avatar of Pride - you immediately look away.

Lucifer stands apart from you, still by the room’s entrance. The arm he had offered for you to is retracted, as it’s nowhere near enough to reach you. And nowhere near a hug.

A horrid, awful truth dawns on him, making his stomach drop like butterflies turning to lead inside.

His would only ever allow him to take half a step forward.

And, in return, you would take ten steps back - far, far away from him. Even farther than from the demon who had broken your wrist.

And it would be a long, long time before you would let him get close enough to reach you.

…

“… Lucifer.” You murmur; voice barely above a whisper. His eyes meet to yours faster than he would like. “C-Could you, um… Could you get me a glass of water? Please.”

He stays there, for a few seconds. His breath hitches.

He… eventually nods, turning to leave the room. He gets the water; and doesn’t realise he’s slightly rushing.

He returns a few minutes later. He sees that you’ve detached yourself from his brother and, when your eyes meet his, you take half a step forward. He glances away.

He doesn’t look at you when he makes his way across the room to where you’re standing. Nor does he realise he’s walking quicker than normal.

Suddenly, the sound of gentle scales scraping against wood echoes to break the deafening silence and Lucifer finds Levi’s tail at his feet. Right in front of you, and right in front of him. A barrier.

He glances at Levi, one of his beloved baby brothers, and sees that he’s holding his breath again. His eyes are trained on you.

And when you smile at Leviathan, your shoulders relaxing a millimetre, Lucifer realises this is as far as he goes.

… Then it happens.

He hands you the glass of water.

You take it.

He feels your fingers brush. The tiny, minuscule contact sends electricity through his gloves, down his fingertips, and the feeling surges through his arms and straight to his heart.

After a few minutes, Leviathan gradually begins to say something about new video-game suggestions for family game night. The words are hazy and unclear - Lucifer’s too busy focusing on how it felt to be near you; to touch you; to hear you speak to him without being spoken to first, for the first time in months. The first time in what had felt like millennia.

It would be a long time before you would let him get close enough to reach you.

But, as you give him the smallest of smiles as thanks for the water, he’s somehow reassured that the time would come.

The least he could do, after all he’s done, is wait.

(i know wanted to see some lucifer-centric stuff, so here it is! they specifically mentioned mammon and satan, and those will come in a later chapter since i more see them as stuff lucifer doesn’t pick up on; or, at least, stuff that doesn’t require him to face you directly, so he gets to keep his pride. all of the brothers have hurt mc in one way or another, so i wanted something clear and concrete and emotional that set lucifer apart. i figured, the phrase ‘to keep your pride’ is used often used to stop people from apologising, taking responsibility or doing something with humility - so i figured it would be the same with the avatar of pride. he won’t be the first to address it.)

(please look forward to the next chapters, as well as their accompanying headcanon chapters! some people have also asked to be tagged in the posts relating to this series, so please comment below if you’d like to be tagged too)

(finally, massive thanks to @kittylilyheart for submitting the original idea and check out Phantom Pain in the pinned masterlist post to see it! my ideas inbox is still open, so please read the rules in the pinned post and submit something obey-me related you’d like to see me write!)

Taglist:

@kittylilyheart @gallantys

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me writing #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me angst #angst #obey me lesson 16 #lesson 16 #WoundsScarsandMinorInconviniences #inspired by me spraining an ankle #and it being weak ever since

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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

Text

one last time ft. vinsmoke sanji!

a/n: continuation of my time travel series as asked by anon!! sanji, lost you when you were both 27. now, three years later, aged 30, the cook travels back in time and sees you again. *cue angst* not proofread, im so sorry for mistakes!

warnings: none!! just my crappy attempts of writing angst tbh

"it makes no sense" nami mumbled, peering down intensely at the old cook as if examining her personal lab rat. the alleged thirty year old had materialized in the main room of the going merry through thin air; and nami had almost knocked him out with her staff.

"nami-swan let me-" the man tried to speak but the red-head cut him off, "you ate a devil fruit and you traveled back in time?"

"you're so gorgeous even when you boss me around-""

"sanji." nami cocked an eyebrow.

sanji sighed lightly, trying to reason, "well, i mean i actually ate like just half a bite of it. i don't think this time travel thing is permanent. i'll be out of your gorgeous hair in just a minute"

"no, you being here isn't the issue." nami corrected herself, "i think im just surprised is all. the idea that there exists something like this is just-"

but someone barged into the room before she could finish.

"what the fuck?" the swordsman looked at sanji, taken aback by the sudden blondie appearance, "he looks awfully like the shit-cook."

"it's nice to see you too, moss-head"

"ah-" nami groaned at the swordsman appearance, "well, i guess i'll explain to everybody. out on deck, both of you"

"why are you so tall?" zoro gave the older cook a nasty look.

"zoro, out."

"why is he so tall-"

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

"so..." the younger, blonde man asked, "you're me but 30?"

the older man shrugged, "yes, pretty much."

"i cannot believe you committed to the bangs look for over a decade, sanji" you giggled, looking from the older version to the younger one.

"if you like it, then i can keep it for the rest of eternity, my love."

you laughed again, sending the cook an amused look, "sure, i like it."

while the younger cook was swooned at your words, sending you a love-struck gaze. the older was busy contemplating whether he wanted to hug you so hard till his ribs broke down and he disintegrated within you, or if he should keep his distance, saving himself all that hurt.

your hair was choppier and the strands moved gently in the wind, the tresses cashmere kisses against your sun-kissed skin. all the signs of aging were absent from your skin, all those signs of you and him together were gone, just like that. as if you and he hadn't existed at all.

there was no scar on your lips from the time you fell down in the dark while sleepy, no cuts on your arms and legs from battles long gone. every evidence of the life you and sanji had built together was gone, leaving a twenty-three year old you behind.

well, technically that life was yet to come. it would take you and his younger version another five months, 23 days and 6 hours till you both got together. atleast, if his calculations were correct.

it would take you another 9 years, 2 months and 4 days to leave him. he knew those calculations by heart.

and so, sanji held back the urge to ask you if you liked two sugars in your coffee right now too? and did you light up when the moon was out in all it's glory? did your favourite constellation stay the same as years passed you by? did you look the same when you kissed him awake? did-

instead, he said nothing and stared at you, transfixed.

when ussop shook the older cook awake, the blonde man gave the younger crew members a pained smile. and when luffy jumped up and down, asking whether the cook still cooked, sanji found himself laughing and offering to make a meal.

atleast, this way, he could resign himself to an old kitchen, boundless memories and endless suffering, away from your ghastly presence.

the door stood ajar and you slipped inside just as silently like you always did when you wanted to surprise him in the kitchen. he looked up from the chopping board, well-versed with every one of your silent exchanges.

"want some help?" you offered, walking over leisurely and standing opposite to the man on the kitchen island.

the man looked down, focusing on not cutting his fingers up, "uh- no, thanks."

"damn, did you change?"

"hm?"

"where's the added "my love", "mon cheri" or "darling" at the end?" you cocked up an eyebrow, giving him a confused look, "don't tell me you lost those with time, that'll be a real shame."

sanji looked up, dumbstruck at you.

ofcourse he didn't. how could he? how could he when you were all that and more to him. under breathy whispers, loud declarations of love and silent hums in the dark of the night, you were every stringed syllable in every language to him.

he must have been silent for too long cause you shook your palm in front of him, paranoia sewn into your skin, "i mean it's okay if you lost it. like, it's not that big of a deal-"

and sanji laughed.

"excuse me? it's not nice to laugh at a lady."

"you looked so adorable like that." he looked down at the chopped vegetables, hands skillfully adding the veggies to the heated pan. then he looked up through his eyebrows, skillfully avoiding your gaze fully, "you're quite cute, love."

"uh-" your ears went red and you looked away, "thanks? y-you too."

"how have you been, yn?" he looked back at the food, his voice was tender. every hitch of the breath was audible against the backdrop of distant laughs from the crew.

"oh?" you replied shocked. then you smiled, "good. i'm good."

"good?" he repeated, ever so slowly as if turning the word on the tip of his tongue to remember the way you said it.

"yeah, i've been good, sanji."

"i'm glad." he pursed his lips, turning his back to you under the lie of fetching bowls from the cabinet.

"what are you cooking?" you asked, leaning over and peering at the vessel on the stove.

even without turning, he said, "you'd lose balance, careful now."

you marveled at the simmering dish, looking at his back and smiling real big, "you're cooking hand-pulled noodles with broth?! i think its my new favourite dish! i tasted it like a few days ago and i've been dying to eat it againn"

sanji smiled, still turned away from you, "is that so?"

as much as sanji prided himself at his ability to identify you from lightyears apart, at his ability to hear you in the noisiest room, he must have not been paying attention.

because you had sneaked up behind him and pressed yourself against his back, giving him a hug. you smiled gummy against his back muscles, "thankyou! thankyou! thankyouuu!!"

sanji froze under your casual touch. after a second, mindlessly, he lay his bigger hands on top of yours, relishing in the way you felt under him. he closed his eyes, trying to etch the moment in his memories. then he smiled again, promising against the thin air, "i will make you this as many times as you ask me."

"really?" you beamed again, letting go and standing beside him, "promise me?"

"i promise you." he gave you curt nod, melting under every one of your happy dance moves.

"now i would bother you for the rest of our lives." you stuck out your tongue at the blonde man.

"i would rather not be bothered by anyone but you, my love."

"aww-"

"hey geezer." the younger cook stood at the door, eyeing the negligible distance between you and the older man, "get away from yn-chan, you fucking pervert."

"rich coming from you, mr. nosebleed" the older man gave the younger a dirty look.

"HEY THATS NOT MY FAULT"

"SAAAANJI" luffy whined from outside, "ARE YOU DONEEE? WE'RE STARVINGGGG-"

vinsmoke sanji, aged thirty, yelled back "YEAH LEARN TO WAIT SOME MORE."

"YOU'RE SO MEAN SANJI! I MEAN- OLDER SANJI? I MEAN SANJI??- alee? I MEAN THE COOK OF MY SHIP?? NO, THE COOK OF MY FUTURE SHIP-"

"JUST SHUT UP LUFFY." the two blondes yelled in unison and you laughed one last time, lighting up the kitchen on fire.

oh wait, no. that is just the smoke due to the burning veggies in the pan.

well, fuck.

atleast you were laughing. and sanji would have killed entire nations to see that sight again, so, what were a few vegetables for the sacrifice?

#one piece #opla #op #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji angst #one piece angst #one piece fanfic #sanji fic #x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji #sanji imagines

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sixpennydame · 2 months

Text

Part One: The Feint

Pairing: Boxer!Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader [Jujutsu Kaisen]

Word count: 4.5k

Summary:

Choso's life is simple: eat, sleep, train, fight. But everything changes when a mysterious doctor comes into his life.

Author's notes: This is me, branching out and writing for something other than Attack on Titan! But I just love me a dark-haired, misunderstood man. Thank you to my beloved @littlerequiem for beta reading.

Series content/warnings: No curses AU, bare knuckle boxing, violence (in the boxing ring and out), mentions of blood and broken bones, eventual smut

AO3 | Playlist

Line dividers: @saradika-graphics

The first time you meet Choso, he’s covered in blood.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’re a doctor.

Or rather, you used to be. It was all taken away from you. Now you’re forced to treat fighters in an underground fighting ring, patching up broken bones and open wounds.

This was your life now, and you’d resigned yourself to that.

You hear your door slide open. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” you say, your back turned.

“Ok...” you hear a low voice respond, “but can I sit down? I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

You look over your shoulder to see a tall man, blood oozing from a wound to his head, the rag he has pressed against it drenched.

“Oh - yes, of course! Let me just...”

You grab sterile gauze and your other instruments from the cabinet and run over to him as he sits down. He looks lethargic, and a little disoriented. You remove the soaked rag, assessing the large gash along his eyebrow.

“That’s deep,” you remark, “you must have been hit pretty hard.”

“Wasn’t too bad. I just bleed a lot,” he answers nonchalantly.

The blood from his head runs down and mingles with blood on his chest.

He notices your downward glance. “That isn’t all my blood.”

“Ah,” is all you can think to say.

You’d hate to see what the other guy looks like.

“Well, let’s get you stitched up then.”

He follows you to your examination table and sits down. You start by cleaning off the blood around the wound, gently dabbing the area while keeping pressure on it. His eyelid is already starting to swell, the deep purple bruising spreading under his eye and to his cheekbone. As you clean his face, you notice that he has a long, dark scar that goes across the bridge of his nose.

“Have you had any blurred vision? Vomiting?” you ask, going through the checklist of a concussion.

He shakes his head. “Nope. I just need you to stitch me up and then I’ll be out of here.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that. I need to check that you’re ok.” You turn on your examination light and he squints, then you prepare a needle with local anesthesia.

“This might sting a bit,” you warn, and when the needle goes in, he winces for a moment, but his stoic expression soon returns.

You get right to work on the wound, silently putting in one stitch, then two, then another, concentrating on mending the skin together.

“I haven’t seen you before. You new?” His voice breaks the silence and your concentration.

“Yeah…I’m just here for a little while.”

He hums a response, and you can feel his eyes glance up at you.

“That’s good. Nobody should stay around here for too long.”

“And how long have you been fighting here?”

He sighs. “Too damn long. But fighting is all I’ve ever known….I can’t really do anything else.”

There’s a tinge of sadness in his voice. You know what it feels like to be trapped, to not have any other recourse. It’s what got you here, afterall.

You make the final stitch, tie the knot, and cut the thread.

He makes to stand up, but your hand on his shoulder stops him.

“I need to check for any signs of a concussion,” you say.

He sighs, but with a nod, he settles himself back down. You put your hands on each side of his head, turning it from side to side gently.

“Any pain?”

“N-no..” His dark brown eyes are looking everywhere but at you.

You go through the rest of the list, checking his vision, coordination, and balance—-he passes it all without a hitch.

This guy can really take a punch, you think to yourself.

“Am I good, Doc?”

“It would seem so, but you need to let that wound heal for a week or two before you fight again.”

“Nope, can’t do. I don’t get paid if I don’t fight.”

He jumps down off the exam table and walks towards the door.

But you grab his arm, pulling the man towards you.

“Hey. You might not care what happens to your body, but I do. And if you’re going to be under my care then you’re going to follow my instructions. No fighting until you get the all-clear from me.” Your voice is forceful and authoritative, and the surprise in his eyes shows that it was not what he was expecting from you.

“Yes…ma’am…er, doctor…” His phrasing is suddenly polite. “I understand. No fighting.”

At that, you let go of his arm. “Good. Come by next week and I’ll see if I can take out those stitches.”

“Next week. Will do, Doc,” he says before walking out the door.

But the following evening, he’s back in your office, straddling one of your chairs and leaning on its back.

“I’m bored...” his low voice whines.

“And so you decided to come here,” you reply dryly while wiping down your examination area.

He doesn’t take the hint, merely watching you as you do your work. Last night, his hair was up in two pigtails that spiked at the top of his head; today, his black hair flows down, almost touching his shoulders. Cleaned up, he’s handsome, even with the swelling from the black eye.

You walk over to him with a small bag of ice. “Here. If you're gonna just hang around here, we might as well take care of that swelling.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He takes the bag, putting it on his still tender bruise.

“I’m not a doctor.”

He furrows his brow at your statement.

“Not fully, anyway. I’m a doctor in residence.”

Was a doctor in residence, but you leave that part out. It’s better not to tell him too much.

Your words seem to be an acceptable explanation. He leans his arms on the back of the chair, then his head. “Well then…what’s your name?”

You tell him. There’s an awkward silence.

“And what’s yours?”

“Choso. Choso Kamo.”

Normally, you don’t bother learning the fighters’ names, or even asking. What would be the point? They’re either too punch drunk to answer you, or they’re in and out of your office without a backwards glance.

But it wouldn’t hurt to get to know this guy a little more, right? The night’s been slow, and it doesn’t seem like he means to leave any time soon.

“And you said you’ve been fighting for a while?” you ask while attempting to grab a jar of cotton balls on a high shelf.

“Yeah. A couple years. I’m paying for my brothers to go to a boarding school outside the city. The public schools are shit here, and I want them to have better opportunities than I did.” He suddenly becomes quiet, contemplative. “I don’t want them to end up like me.”

That was not the answer you were expecting from him. You’d assumed all the fighters here were adrenaline junkies or extreme pain addicts, with overinflated egos to match. But Choso didn’t seem to fit any of your preconceived notions. He’s fighting for his family because he feels he has to.

So you’re not the only one who feels trapped in their circumstances.

He walks over to you, looking down and smiling. “Don’t feel sorry for me, though. I chose this life.”

There’s a silent energy between the both of you as you meet his gaze, but it’s gone in an instant when he looks away, reaching up and getting the jar.

“Did you need this?” he asks, his voice suddenly low and sweet.

“Yeah.... thanks.”

Your fingers graze his as you take the jar and there’s a flutter in your stomach. For someone so beat up and bruised, there’s a gentleness about him; you can see it in his eyes.

The moment between the two of you, however, is cut short when the door is kicked open and a bloodied and bruised fighter is rushed into the room.

By the time you get them bandaged and stitched, and your workspace clean, Choso is gone.

Ah well, you think, better not to get too attached anyway.

But the next evening, he’s back in your office, just like clockwork, leaning in a chair or sitting on a counter, just ever so slightly in your personal space. You use it as an opportunity to check his wound, reprimanding him for not regularly putting on antiseptic ointment.

Your leg brushes his as you dab the ointment on, attempting to ignore that he’s once again watching you silently.

You clear your throat. “You need to take better care of your wounds, Choso, or the scar isn’t going to heal properly. Or worse, it’ll get infected.”

”I don’t really care about scars. I’ve always had them, it seems.”

You look into his eyes, then down at the scar across his nose.

”How’d you get that one?”

“That?” He points to his nose. “That was an unfortunate incident with my father and a metal baton.”

He then tells you about his life, about having an abusive father and an absent mother, and about raising his younger brothers practically on his own. As a teenager he’d given up on school but had found an aptitude for fighting, first in back alleys and parks, and now, in his early twenties, in the underground bare knuckle boxing matches run by various shady gambling organizations.

The gambling here was somewhat legal, but the matches were anything but, pitting fighter against fighter in a bloody free-for-all where the only rule was don’t hit them hard enough to kill them. The fact that Choso was still alive and fighting after all these years was impressive.

Slightly masochistic, but impressive.

From here on, every evening, Choso would come like clockwork. He’d find his way to your office, where you’d assess his wound, put on more ointment (he would always forget), give him some ice for his bruising and just listen to him talk. The man was an open book to you, and after a few days, you felt you had a good idea of who Choso was and what made him tick.

Like how he hates confined spaces but has no problem with heights; that if he’d gone to college, he would have been a preschool teacher because he loves kids; how he likes board games but gets too competitive.

He was odd but sweet, carrying himself in an unassuming way that contrasted vastly from the other fighters that passed through your door. Even though he was part of such a cruel world, he seemed so… innocent, as if he was experiencing life for the first time.

You, on the other hand, kept information about yourself general and brief during your talks with Choso. To tell him about yourself and your life would mean that you trusted him; that he was more than just another fighter coming through your door.

Even moreso, you were afraid of what he’d think if you told him what got you here in the first place.

And so every question Choso asked was met with a quick answer or total silence; that didn’t seem to stop him from asking questions, however; the man was as relentless with curiosity as he was with fighting stamina.

And when seven evenings had passed, you could tell the man was aching to get back into the ring.

“It’s itchy,” he said, gently patting the healing wound with his fingers, just like you’d taught him to do when he felt the urge to scratch it.

The bruising and swelling around his eye and the side of his face had gone down considerably in the past week, faster than you were even expecting.

Something else you didn’t expect was the fact that you really enjoyed his presence in your office every night, so much so that you felt a small pang of longing every time he left.

“Come here, then. Let’s have a look at it.”

He walks toward you, reaching up to pull his hair back into a ponytail, his shirt raising just enough to show his toned stomach. You quickly turn away to reach for your glasses.

There’s a crinkling sound behind you as he sits on the tissue paper covering the examination table. You can feel his eyes on you and you take a few breaths before turning around, avoiding his gaze.

You’ve been this close to him countless times, but why does it suddenly feel different now?

There’s cheers coming from the arena down the hall, and that usually brings commentary from Choso about the fighters, but right now, he’s quiet. You wonder what he’s thinking about.

“You look cute in your glasses,” he says in a low voice that sends vibrations to your core.

“Stop it. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“But it’s true.”

”Shhh...” you command, but his comment has you visibly flustered. You clear your throat as you assess Choso’s wound.

“I’m going to take out the sutures now. It shouldn’t hurt.”

Your examination light clicks on above the two of you and you tilt his head up slightly. He smiles boyishly before looking away.

Realizing it’s pointless to ignore whatever is happening between the two of you, you prod, “Was that your way of flirting?”

”I’ve never been very good at that,” he confesses. “Just stating the facts. One of my many observations of you this week.”

”Oh yeah? And what else have you observed?”

”You purse your lips when you concentrate.”

You suddenly relax your lips as you start cutting the threads of his suture. “I don’t do that.”

He smiles. “And you do this little throat clearing sound when you’re nervous.”

As if on cue, you clear your throat. He smirks triumphantly.

”See?”

”So you’ve discovered every one of my physical ticks. You have them too, you know.”

His eyes glance up to you. “And they are?”

”Well…you...” you snip a few sutures, pausing to pull them out and put on a tray, “...sigh loudly.”

”I… sigh loudly?”

”Yeah…as if you’re bored or tired or something.” Snip goes another suture. “And you have the most expressive face I’ve ever seen. I don’t think you’re physically capable of hiding any of your emotions.”

”Unlike you. You’re like a stone wall. You get defensive and distant every time I ask a personal question.”

“I do -” your words come out clipped and harsh, and he gives you a knowing look, “-not..”

Snip.

Silence.

“Ok, fine. What do you want to know?”

“You’re not wearing a ring, so you’re not married. Boyfriend?”

“No.” You want to leave it at that, but that would just prove him right. “I don’t really have time for…relationships.”

Desperately wanting to deflect, you ask, “What about you? I’m sure you have a hoard of fangirls.”

“Me? Fangirls?” He laughs at that and you give him a reprimanding look to keep still before you continue your work. “You clearly haven’t been to any of the matches. It’s mainly old men drunk off their asses. And I don’t really talk to…girls.”

You take out the last suture and dab at the slight bleeding.

“I’m a girl.”

“Yeah, but you’re different.”

Your brow furrows at that, and so he adds, “I want to talk to you. And it’s a challenge.”

“A challenge? In what way?”

“No matter what I ask, you’ve barely told me a thing about you. But there’s some things I can tell.”

His hand reaches out and pauses for a moment, before his fingertips caress your face.

“You seem sad,” he says gently, “and alone.”

“What does that mean, alone?” You back away from him. “I’m perfectly fine, and I don’t need you to pity me.”

“That’s not what I meant -”

He walks toward you, but you turn away.

“Your wound is healed and your bruising has gone down. You should be fine to fight now, so there’s no more reason to come here.”

You can feel his presence right behind you. He says your name but you don’t turn around.

It’s time to stop this. There’s no use in letting someone into your life.

There’s a loud sigh, and then you hear the door to your office open and close.

——

“Goddammit, Choso, why are your hands not taped? Where’s your head been lately?”

Choso stays silent. Was he really gonna tell his trainer that he’s been sidetracked all week because he was thinking about you every moment?

That would get him a slap across the face, and he’d like to avoid that.

This is the first time he’s been back to the arena since that last night he saw you. And every day he’s thought about whether he’ll catch a glimpse of you walking to your office, or in the hallway. After things fell apart so terribly, he wonders if he’d even have the nerve to talk to you again.

Choso’s trainer pushes him out the door. ”Go to the doctor and ask to borrow their tape. Surely she has some.”

Shit.

The cheers and boos of another fight echo against the brick and metal of the hallway as Choso makes his way to your office, each step making his heart beat just a little bit faster.

Would you even want to talk to him? Maybe you’ll turn him away.

(Of course, if he got injured tonight, you’d have no choice but to treat him, that thought had crossed his mind.)

Just as he makes it to your door, it flings open, nearly hitting him in the face. He stops it right as a man with long blue hair slinks out.

”Oh! Sorrrry man!” His voice is innocent, child-like. “You almost got knocked out before you could even fight.” He smirks while holding open the door ceremoniously. “The doctor will see you now.”

Confused, Choso watches as the man practically skips down the hall but his concern quickly changes when he sees you slumped over your counter.

”Doc…”

He cautiously walks towards you.

”Go away.” The words are harsh but your voice is weak and defeated.

Choso gently puts a hand on your shoulder to turn you towards him, but you refuse to look him in the eyes. He lifts your chin up to look at him.”What happened?”

That’s when he sees it. Your bottom lip is split and bleeding.

Choso’s eye squint, studying the wound. “Who did this to you?”

You say nothing, but with the freshness of the wound, he puts it together. And suddenly, he’s seeing red.

He turns on his heels, ready to burst out the door and catch that blue haired bastard who hit you, but you grab his arm, pulling him back to your side.

”Don’t, Choso!” You plead. “Please...”

Your eyes well up with tears and Choso’s hand instantly cups your face.

“What happened?”

You hesitate, as usual, but then, “…I’m in trouble...”

”What kind of trouble?”

You look down, grabbing some gauze on the counter to put on your lip. Once again, Choso is met with silence to his questions.

”Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

”Why do you keep coming here, Choso? No matter what I do…you just keep coming back. I don’t get it.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I like you.” The words come out of his mouth so naturally, words he’s wanted to tell you for days. “You are one of the only people here who is kind to me. I could tell that you really cared. I don’t get that often, if ever.”

He moves closer, placing his hand on top of yours. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

Outside the doors of the office, the voices of the gamblers in the arena raise to a crescendo. A muffled sound announces the next fighters.

But here, it feels as if time has stopped. Choso can’t hear anything but the pounding of his own heart in his ears getting louder and louder. His focus becomes completely on you, as if the rest of the world has melted away. It’s the same feeling he gets right before a fight, but this time he’s not looking to conquer anything.

Or maybe he is.

He brings your hand off your face and leans down, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

“Let me in.”

Your breath is ragged and uneven and if he closed his eyes, he swears he’d be able to hear your heart beating as well. But after a few seconds, when neither of you move, he begins to doubt himself.

Then your voice - your sad, soft voice - breaks the silence.

”Choso...”

That’s all he needs to hear to have his lips crashing into yours. It’s a desperate kiss, a hunger arising in him that he’s never felt before. Your arms wrap around his neck and he lifts you up and onto the counter, pressing himself between your legs. He can taste the blood from your lip and it seems to spur a deeper want of you inside of him. His hands roam under your shirt and you moan into his mouth. He wants to touch you, taste you, know everything about you -

“Choso!” A loud voice resonates outside the office.

Both of you break away from the kiss, breathless.

“Shit. I’ve gotta go.” He looks at the door, expecting his coach to barge in any second; when he doesn’t, he looks back at you. You look so vulnerable right now, he doesn’t want to leave you. He wants to see how much further this can go, how much more you’ll open up to him, but he knows he can’t miss a fight.

“Wait for me. It’s not safe for you to leave by yourself tonight. I’ve just gotta.…go do this real quick.”

This. As if his livelihood doesn’t depend on it.

“Alright,” is your answer.

And with that, it feels like Choso has been hit with a shot of adrenaline. He kisses you again, maybe a little bit too enthusiastically, because he hears you suck in a breath.

“I’ll be right back.” He looks down and sees some medical tape on the counter. “And I’ll return this.”

He runs out the door and down the hall, the tape in his mouth as he winds it around his palms and knuckles.

You’re gonna wait for him.

He’s never wanted a fight to finish so fast.

”Choso! Where the hell have you been? You’re up!”

He ignores his coach and starts warming up, jumping a bit and then throwing a few punches. Just outside the door beyond are the lights, the cheers, and his opponent.

But right now, all he wants is you.

”And weighing in at 187 pounds….the man who always brings a bloodbath…CHOOOOSOOOOO!!”

——

You hear the announcer scream Choso’s name and the cheers that follow.

Let me in… he’d said.

You’re not sure if you’re shaking from being hit in the face or from the intense kisses that you shared with Choso just moments before. Maybe it’s a little of both.

You wring your hands and pace the floor, your mind racing, trying to understand everything that just happened. Sooner or later, you knew the people you agreed to work for would come to collect - but no matter what you did, it never seemed to be enough. They take and take and take…

And that man with the blue hair - it seemed like he’d taken such joy in hitting you, seeing the fear in your eyes when he made his threats.

Maybe you should just leave, right now. Pack up your stuff and get out of the city, leave everything behind.

But it would be no use, you knew they’d eventually find you.

And Choso…he told you to wait for him. It felt so good to be in his arms, touching you, kissing you. He made you feel wanted and safe, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You’ve never been interested in watching the matches before, but now you find yourself walking down the hall and into the dark and crowded arena. The crowd is lively, throwing out words of praise and curses at both the fighters. You stay in the back, and through the clouds of cigarette smoke, you see him.

It’s only been a few minutes since the fight started, but Choso’s body is already coated in a layer of sweat. There’s a wild look in his eyes but his face is serious, almost calm. He weaves and bobs in between his opponent’s punches, getting his own punch across his cheek, then one to his chin. Choso takes a few steps back as the man ambles forward, shaking his head a few times while his trainer yells something to him from the ropes.

The opponent lunges toward Choso but he puts him in a headlock and starts punching his face repeatedly. In an ordinary fight, a referee would break them up, but there are no referees that you can see. The man eventually works himself free from Choso’s grasp, his nose bloody and more than likely broken. He attempts a jab but Choso counters; he hits him hard across the cheek and the man falls to the ground.

”Finish him off!” “Beat him to a pulp!”

”Choso! Choso! Choso!”

The voices raise higher and higher, egging the victor on. But Choso merely walks to his corner, drinks some water, spits it out, and leaves the ring.

In a matter of minutes, it’s all over, the loser in a pool of blood.

You rush back to your office, knowing you’re going to have to set that man’s nose.

——

True to his word, Choso comes to your office at the end of the night.

You’ve just finished treating his opponent and stitching up a cut on his right cheek before sending him away with his trainer and crew. You’d also noticed that the bruising on the man’s knuckles was deep purple and swelling fast; no broken bones, but it looked as if he’d hit something hard and immovable, not another human body.

When you look at Choso, who’s freshly showered and wearing a grey hoodie over a white t-shirt, leaning against your office door, he looks as if he’s just had a walk in the park.

You put on your jacket and grab your things before making your way toward him.

”Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

His hand, that just moments before had beaten someone to a bloody pulp, was now outstretched toward you.

An offering. And a surrender.

You decide to accept.

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prettygrltatum · 7 months

Text

Warm Blankets!

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Bimbo!reader

a/n: it's time for me to throw my hat into the ring and finally post for my favorite type of reader! >.< def will show off my oc for this one >:)

synopsis: you and your buff manz(pluz pets!) just kinda lay there and do nothing all day ╰(▔∀▔)╯

tags: fluff, cuddling, simon proposing in a personal space because he doesn't take me as a person who'd propose in public, just overral being cute (´｡• ω •｡`)

wrds:

it was a lazy sunday. finally simon came back from his missions this week and had a lot of time to be with you. stood at the door, awaiting him. you could hear simon's loud and strong combat boots at the steps, the keys jiggling. you were basically a puppy waiting for her owner to come home. meanwhile the actually puppy wags her tail and yaps.

'shh! riley quiet! he can hear you!' you whispered at the pup, turning her head at you with confusion. 'I can already hear 'yer through the door sweets." simon chuckled through the door. you gasped, picking up riley and scooting behind the couch.

when simon stepped through the door, he saw your little my melody onesies and it's ears. 'baby i can see you.' he laughed, moving over to see you holding riley in your arms as you pout. 'simmy? HIII!!' you squealed. you set riley down as she moved forwards and leaped on his legs. he picked you up and kissed you plush lips.

oh to be home with you. a place of comfort and warmth. 'oh! wait! I have a gift for you!' you jumped off of simon as he furrowed his eyebrow. he took off his mask, scars covering his face as he smiled. riley left his side and followed you upstairs with a yap.

the both of you came back with a blanket of silks and blankets. 'okay! so, i got you a cute..wait for it! kuromi onesie! so we can match. you, me, and riley! she can be pompompurin.'

simon laughed at your adorable mind. so pliant and cute. 'you got this for me?' you nodded as you squealed and handed him the suit. usually, he'll shout at you and cut the poor thing into pieces. but just for you, and only you will he wear something like that.

'this thing? oh god..'

a few minutes later, you see the buffest and burliest kuromi ever seen. you screamed and ran up to simon as he chuckled. god forbid any of his teammates see him like this. 'is this what you wanted?' he asked.

you nodded. 'yes! ah! you look so cute! I got you kuromi because I knew you like black so I got this one for you!' how nice of you! always looking after him. never ending. 'thank you lovie, what are your plans tonight?' your eyes looked up and hummed. 'i dunno! wait! we can watch scary movies! and make like a fort pillow!'

'pillow fort hunny?' you nodded, 'yup! lemme warm up the blankets!' you swiftly left to go to the laundry room, your little slippers tapping and riley following after you as she yapped.

simon shook his head with a crooked smile as he started to pull out some chairs and nearby pillows. he couldn't wait to give you your new gift. a pretty little ring with a nice hot pink rock on top. he can't think of anyone else to come home to but you. his little angel. you were basically made for him. and he wanted to keep you forever.

'okay! i'm back! i have the blankets I want to use for the building process and others are drying okay! so! place the chairs here and-'

he wasn't listening to you. not because you were boring. more like he was just admiring you. he does it everyday. no matter where he's at. on base, duty or even at home. sleeping in the comfort of your arms and warmth, he's always thinking and admiring you.

though your brain is small, your heart was big and ready to share your love with others. you still couldnt do long division and even though keep asking and calling how the ish washer works even though you've been living on your own for years now. sometimes it scares and surprises simon how you lived so long on your own.

'are you even listening babe?' you huffed at him. he stammered and looked up at you. 'y-yeah i am.'

'good! now help me!' you moved one chair to the side and another to the back and give it a little friend as you like to call it. and simon lifted onto the other side of the fort. he drapped over a soft fuzzy white comforter and set the pillows inside, having a beautiful floor decor with a hello kitty blanket. you shoved some stuffies and a chew toy for the pup.

'oh! the blankets are done!' you swoop yourself across the house, again riley still following only lagging behind due to you being a lot faster and bigger than her. simon took out the ring, looking over his shoulder to see if you were still there. no? great. he tucked it under the pillows. he knew your dumb little brain wouldn't figure out where he placed his gift.

'simon! I need help please!' you shouted across the house. simon lifted himself up with a grunt. signally that he was coming to your rescue. when he arrived at the laundry room, he found his sweet girlfriend overwhelmed by huge pink and black blankets. riley was gnawing on one of the blankets and trying all her might to drag it back to the living room.

'I gotcha' ' simon took the weight off of you and carried the warm and fluffy blankets. he started to place some on top of the chairs and fluff them out. you were sti struggling, they were weighted blankets, you came back to see a nicely made fort by your boyfriend.

'ooh! so warm! what are we watching?' you plopped down under the fort, hugging your boyfriend's beefy arm. simon's other hand held the remote, scrolling through the catalog. 'maybe legally blonde eh? you're just like her. smart in your own way, but still a little silly' he said as he slightly tapped your head as you squished up. riley laid in between you and him. her nose was deep into the blanket, barking and growling at it. simon was starting to get worried. his smart little pup might spoil the surprise!

'riley! no! not on my clean sheets! no!' you scolded her as you picked up her small body and moved her to your right side. simon sighed, mentally of course. he was so thankful that you were dumb. if you had any sense, you'd at least ask or try to figure out what's under that pillow. 'well, yeah! i'll watch it.'

simon played the movie, the intro quickly grabbing your attention. you were basically drooling over the early to late 2000's fashion. the pink. the fits,the way they speak. gosh you just wanted to jump into ellie's world and just kiss her and be her best friend. all that going on, simon couldn't take his eyes off. your sweet smell and smile, your rosy and soft cheeks. the way you pointed out everything in that movie.

he remembers when he asked for soap how he should propose to you. he only has 10 minutes before the movie ends. maybe 30? he wasn't paying too much attention to it. soap said, ' I dunno. im single, why the hell are you askin' me?'

not much help, should've asked price before he left. damnnit. he couldn't let this soft moment go by. he needed you to be in his bed with a rock on your finger. nothing else. so maybe now? maybe after the movie? maybe-

'simon. something's poking my side can you see what's under there?' well shit..

might as well get it over with..

'okay. listen to me (reader).' you started to get worried. you knew what simon did as a job. you called it his pew pew job. very accurate if you will. 'simon you're scarin' me..' you whimpered. simon sat up, sneakily pushing the box behind his back. 'nothin' to be scared of.' he assured. 'you know I love you very much right?' you nodded, small tears swelling in your eyes, 'yeah?'

he softly placed the box in your hand. the tears started to flow even more. 'what's this?' you asked, holding the velvet box in your hand. 'I want you to be mine.' he hushed to you, his cheeks getting warm and softer, even with all the scars all over his pale face. 'what do you mean? I am yours!' you squealed.

'I want you to marry me doll..' he mumbled. your eyes opened wide, exposing the tears that have been spilling out. and all of a sudden your eyes are a fountain. you crashed your body into his chest, shaking your head yes as you wailed into his body. ' is that's a yes-'

'YES!'

a/n:it's a series now, gimme gimme GIMME YOUR IDEAS!!!!

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ellie dreams!✎ೃ⁀➷#ellie speaks!!#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x bimbo!reader #bimbo!reader #cute #fluff #soft #fanfic

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awkwardauthorwrites · 1 year

Text

Wildest Dreams - Part Two

Word Count: 4.1k

Themes: fluff, pining, tension

Summary: Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate.

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 25/26 years old

Find Part One here

Sebastian apparted them to a quiet hillside with a beautiful, large cottage resting at the top. Although it was dark out, the faint light coming from the full moon allowed Y/N to see the intricate stonework of the L-shaped house and the garden that lay outside that was obviously well taken care of. She couldn’t see it, but she could hear the gentle swell of the ocean and smell the salt in the air.

“Where are we?”

“Ominis and Anne’s house.” He turned to hold his hand out for hers before guiding them forward slowly. “I moved in so I could help Anne with her pregnancy and the first few months with the baby. They live in that section of the house, but they’re hopefully fast asleep.”

“Trying to sneak me in like a late night conquest?”

“First, you would never be a conquest to me.” The look Sebastian sent her sent a flash of heat through Y/N’s body that warmed her all the way to her toes. “Second, is it that bad I want you to myself for a while before my sister steals you from me?”

“Ah yes, the infamous Sallow charm,” she gave him a teasing smile as he led her inside, a hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the dark interior and into the kitchen. With a slight wave of his hand the lamps that were dotted around the room came to life, revealing a figure sitting at the table.

“Fuck - Ominis!” Sebastian glared at his brother-in-law. “What have I told you about sitting around in the dark?”

“Is it dark?” Ominis tilted his head to the side. “I couldn’t tell.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his words despite her heart still racing and he turned his head in her direction curiously. “Y/N? Is that you?” He stood up and made his way over to them, one hand skirting along the table to help him navigate.

“It’s good to see you again, Ominis.” Y/N pulled him into a tight hug before releasing him and taking a step back so she stood next to Sebastian again.

“I’d say the same but…” He chucked at his own poor joke and held his hands out to her, a silent request to trace her features. Y/N took his hands and placed them on her face, her eyes slipping closed as his fingers moved over the scar on her temple. “Still starting fights?”

“Does it really matter who started it as long as I finish them?”

“No, I suppose not.” Ominis released her face and took a small step back. “Why are you back so early?”

“It got boring,” Sebastian shrugged and leant against the kitchen wall, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

“So you decided to steal the guest of honour as you left?”

“I’ve got to be a bad influence on her somehow for old times sake.”

“Hm.” Ominis didn’t exactly sound pleased, but Y/N could see the smile on his face. “I’m going to head to bed. I assume you’ll be spending the night, so I’ll see you at breakfast, Y/N.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Ominis offered her a wry smile before making his way up the staircase located in the back corner of the kitchen. Y/N heard a soft click as a door closed and Sebastian came to stand behind her.

“Do you want to get out of this dress?” Y/N turned to look up at him with raised eyebrows and watched his face turn red. “I didn’t - I mean, I wouldn’t mind but that’s not…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What I meant was, do you want me to lend you something to wear?”

“Yes, please.” Sebastian stopped to grab a bottle of firewhiskey from the cupboard, as well as two glasses, before leading her out of the kitchen and to the right, through what Y/N assumed was the living room. There was another staircase on this side of the house and Sebastian ushered her up and pointed her in the direction of his room. Y/N closed the door behind them as he walked over to his dresser and set their drinks down before rummaging through one of the drawers.

“I can’t give you anything of Anne’s without waking her up, is this alright?” Sebastian pulled out a long sleeved shirt and some pyjama bottoms for her.

“Only if you help me out of this dress,” Y/N watched as Sebastian visibly gulped and his face and neck turned a brilliant shade of red. She turned her back to him and brushed her hair out of the way to show him the small buttons that ran up the back of the dress. “Please?”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Save the theatrics for when I’m in your clothes.”

“Darling,” Sebastian groaned, his hands coming to rest on her waist from behind. “When I asked you to flirt with me I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“Like what?” Y/N brought her hands up to hold the bodice of her dress in place as Sebastian began to undo her buttons, his fingers brushing against every inch of exposed skin in a way that set Y/N’s nerves on fire.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

“I did warn you,” Y/N laughed quietly as she felt him undo the last of the buttons.

“You did,” he agreed, voice low as he trailed a finger down her spine softly. “Is it later?”

“Give a girl the chance to get dressed first, Sallow.”

“Oh right. Yes. I’ll - hallway?” Sebastian stammered, one finger pointing at the door behind them. Y/N bit her lower lip to hold back a smile as she took in how flustered he was. It was a rare sight (in fact, she didn’t think she had ever seen it before) and it brought a sense of gratification knowing she was the one who had turned the charming man into a stuttering mess.

“Just turn around.” Sebastian nodded once before turning his back to her, resting his head on the wall gently. Y/N quickly shed the dress and pulled on Sebastian’s clothes, pulling a face as she tried to hitch the pants up as far as she could. “I feel like a child playing dress up.” Sebastian chuckled and turned back around to face her, his eyes darkening as they roamed over her. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look ravishing.”

“Oh shush,” Y/N turned her back to him so he couldn’t see her blush and poured out two drinks for them while he quickly changed as well. She picked the pins out of her hair while she waited for him and took a sip of the firewhiskey to steady her hands as she listened to him shuffle out of his clothing. She didn’t dare move until he came to stand behind her, his hand resting on her waist gently as he leant over to grab his glass. Y/N grabbed the bottle and her own glass before taking a seat on the bed and crossing her legs so she could face him.

“To us,” Sebastian toasted.

“To later,” Y/N clicked her glass against his and took another sip of the drink. The liquid burned the back of her throat, but warmed the rest of her body and gave her the surge of confidence she needed. “You said earlier you always wanted to kiss me. How long have you felt that way?”

“Since fifth year.”

“Sebastian, that was ten years ago!”

“What can I say? I’ve always known what I wanted.” The look he gave her offered more heat than the drink and Y/N found herself drinking a little more to calm her nerves.

“Am I just a want to you?”

“No. Definitely not.” He brushed some hair from her eyes. “You are everything to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“How long have you felt the same?”

“Since fifth year,” Y/N murmured shyly. She had assumed all of the under-the-radar flirting he had done back in school was just a part of his charm and that he was the same with all the other girls, but that hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him all the time. It had only gotten worse the more time she spent with him and she started to realise that not only was he charming to a fault, but he was also kind and smart and funny and flawed.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Touché.” They sat in a comfortable silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. “I wouldn’t mind either, by the way.”

“Mind what?” he asked. Y/N gave him a look and waited for the sickle to drop. It took him a moment to recall the words he had said in the kitchen, how he wouldn’t mind getting her out of her dress in a less than pure sense. “Oh. Oh.” He tilted her chin up gently, his fingers brushing along her jaw in a way that made it feel like every inch of her was on fire. “While I would love nothing more, we have all the time in the world for that later, darling. Plus, it would probably be better to wait until we don’t have to be quiet because my sister and best friend are sleeping a few doors down.”

“Silencing charms were invented for a reason.”

“And you call me the rake.” He took her empty glass and set it on the bedside table next to his, turning back around just in time to catch her stifling a yawn. “Oh I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Y/N nudged him and looked like she was about to snap back at him but instead let out another yawn before groaning dramatically and flopping onto the bed so she was laying down. Sebastian brushed some hair from her forehead, his fingers lingering on the mark on her temple gently. “Do you want me to leave you to sleep?”

“No, stay. Please?” The look on her face melted his heart and he couldn’t find it in him to say no. Instead he lay down himself and covered them both with the blanket before rolling over to face Y/N and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.

“Get some sleep, darling. I’m right here.”

*~*~*~*~*

Sebastian woke up to the sunlight streaming in through a small gap in his curtains and looked down at Y/N, who was still fast asleep beside him. At some point in the night she had curled up to his side, her head nearly resting on his shoulder as she slept peacefully. He gently brushed some hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek for longer than necessary. He watched as she began to stir and her eyes fluttered open to look at him.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Y/N smiled shyly and Sebastian was delighted to notice a faint flush on her face. He brushed her cheek gently, a teasing smirk on his face as her blush deepened.

“I could get used to this,” Sebastian trailed his fingers up her jaw slowly, moving round to the back of her neck before lightly running down her back.

“Get used to what?”

“Waking up beside you.” He rested his hand on her lower back and gently pulled her closer. Y/N buried her face into the pillow and pulled the blanket up to cover her face. “Where have you gone?” he laughed, trying to tug the duvet away from her.

“It’s too early for you to be this charming.”

“I’m always charming.” He succeeded in getting the blanket away from her and was rewarded by her demure smile. “You, on the other hand, could do with being a lot less gorgeous first thing in the morning. How is that fair?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his response, her hand hesitantly trailing over his bicep. She watched his throat bob as she lightly traced her way over his collarbone and came to rest over his thundering heart.

“Nervous?” she asked innocently, a coy smile playing on the edge of her mouth. “Pretty woman in your bed, and all that?”

“Darling,” his voice was considerably lower and he reluctantly removed his hand from her back to hold hers against his chest. “I thought we cleared up last night that you’re the only woman I want in my bed.”

“All you said was you wanted to kiss me since fifth year.”

“I’m pretty sure I followed that with telling you that you mean everything to me.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully and tugged her closer, her body pressed against his in a way that set every nerve ending on edge. “Were you not listening to me?”

“My mind was occupied.”

“With what?” he asked. Her answering grin and raised eyebrow was nothing short of wicked and Sebastian felt his heart stutter in his chest. Y/N laughed quietly and wound her hand up his chest to play with the hair on the back of his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’d say I’m sorry but - ”

“Sebastian, are you awake?” There was a gentle knock on his door. Y/N froze, her eyes going wide as Sebastian groaned quietly, his eyes sliding shut.

“I’m up, Anne. I’ll be out in a moment.” His forehead came to rest on her shoulder and she could hear him mutter about his sister’s poor timing.

“I’m about to do the washing, do you need anything cleaned?” Anne tried to open his door. “Why is your door locked?” Sebastian rolled out of bed, moving faster than Y/N had seen him before, waving his wand to unlock the door.

“Must have just been stuck,” he opened the door to greet his sister, his frame blocking her view of the room, and more importantly her still in his bed. “Nothing needs cleaning, I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Why are you being strange?”

“I’ve not long woken up, Anne, give me a break.”

“Is there someone in your room, Sebastian?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Morning everyone.” Y/N felt herself physically cringe as Ominis joined the twins in the hallway. “Is everything alright?”

“Sebastian has someone in his room.”

“Anne,” he groaned and lightly banged his head on the doorframe, “no I don’t.” Y/N didn’t need to be able to see through doors to know Ominis was tilting his head to the side.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Morning,” she grimaced and climbed out of the bed to stand by Sebastian, attempting to tame her hair as she did so. Anne looked surprised to see her and although Ominis was looking slightly to her right, she could still see the smirk on his features that was meant for her. “It’s good to see you both again.”

“A bit presumptuous, was I?” Ominis chuckled and placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “Come, my love, Sebastian can show Y/N where she can freshen up for breakfast before we accost them.” He pulled her back down the hall gently, shooting a glance at the pair before they both went down the stairs.

“Well,” Sebastian let out a breath. “There goes my plan to pretend I asked you round for breakfast this morning.” His face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No harm, no foul. Although, I feel like Anne is currently assuming the worst of me.”

“She would never.” Sebastian’s voice was full of conviction, as if it was a ridiculous notion that Anne would ever think of her poorly. “By the time we make it downstairs she’ll be over the shock and will probably be telling me I told you so over breakfast.” He led her down the hall, showing her where she could freshen up before shutting the door quietly behind her. Y/N moved as quick as she could, splashing water on her face to remove the traces of makeup she had forgotten to remove the night before and tying her hair in a simple braid. She made her way back to Sebastian’s room when she was done and walked in without knocking, her eyes going wide at the sight in front of her.

“Sorry!” Y/N’s face burned as she turned around and pressed her forehead to the cool wall as she covered her eyes. Sebastian laughed from behind her and stepped close, his finger running down her spine gently before he turned her back around.

“All of those flirtatious remarks last night and you go the colour of a Gryffindor’s robes when you see me without a shirt on?” Sebastian teased, grasping her chin gently so he could angle her face towards his. “You’ve seen me like this before.” Y/N couldn’t help but look back down at his bare torso, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging from his shoulders. The fluttering in her stomach that seemed to appear whenever Sebastian was around had turned into a full-fledged swarm as a kaleidoscope of butterflies ran amok within her.

“No I haven’t.” She made herself look back up and above his head so she wouldn’t have to see the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Yes you have,” Sebastian chuckled and tried to meet her eyes again. “Or do you not remember the day I saved your life in the lake?” The confidence he exuded with the sentence made Y/N eyes snap back to his, a glare on her features as she flicked him in the arm.

“I think we remember that day very differently, considering I wouldn’t have needed saving if you had just trusted me.”

“You were swimming into a whirlpool in the middle of the lake, you’re lucky you didn’t drown.”

“There was a cave there! If anything, what nearly made me drown was some buffoon clinging onto me as we both went under.”

“This buffoon pulled you out into said cave.”

“And right into a spider den,” Y/N laughed as he shuddered at the memory and belatedly noticed that her hand was on Sebastian’s chest, her fingers tracing over a raised mark on his right pectoral. “What’s this?”

“Oh,” Sebastian chuckled nervously and placed his hand over hers, hiding the mark from view. “You’re going to laugh.”

“Probably.” She swatted his hand away and stood a little closer, her finger moving along the curved line slowly. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” he sighed in defeat and gave her a sheepish smile. “Ominis and I thought it would be fun to try and give each other tattoos when we turned eighteen after leaving school. You can probably tell we didn’t do a very good job of it.” That was the understatement of the year. The mark held no ink, and if anything, it looked more like an old faded scar than a tattoo. Y/N tilted her head as she traced the shape again, a sly smile on her face.

“So you both decided that out of all the things you wanted permanently etched to your skin you wanted the snake from the Slytherin crest?” Her lip twitched as Sebastian nodded bashfully and she repressed the urge to laugh.

“Does Ominis have a matching one?”

“His took a little better because of his pale skin - the prick - but yes, he does. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

“What did Anne have to say about this?”

“Oh, she was furious. Kept telling us how only criminals and people in the circus marked themselves like this.” Y/N finally let the laughter bubble out as she imagined Anne reprimanding the pair and they both more than likely stood there and took it like scolded school boys. Sebastian’s features softened at her laugh, his heartbeat picking up speed as Y/N began to subconsciously trace shapes between the freckles that covered his chest.

“You know, I’ve always wondered how far that blush goes,” Y/N commented innocently, her finger winding its way down his chest slowly. Sebastian gulped as she came to a stop at the bottom of his sternum and gave him a demure smile. “I didn’t think it would be here.”

“Where did you think it would stop?”

“I’ve always pictured you with a full-body blush.”

“You’ve pictured me?”

“Mhm.” The light movement of her fingers on his bare skin burned as she slowly trailed between each freckle on his chest. He knew she could feel how embarrassingly fast his heart was beating in his chest but he didn’t care. He was enamoured by her and he didn’t care who knew it. He brought a hand up to rest on the back of her neck, gently pulling her forward until there was little space left between them as he tangled his fingers through her hair. “Seb?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?”

“Would you like it if I did?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” He laughed as she rolled her eyes at him and wound an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Y/N cocked her head to the side, remembering that smile on his face from their fifth year. More often than not it meant trouble, but sometimes, like right now, he paired it with the same look on his face that he had right now. One that was almost soft.

“Use your words, darling. What do you want?” He brushed his thumb across her lower lip as he leant towards her, his forehead resting on hers. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and tried to close the gap between them to kiss him, but Sebastian pulled back fractionally, amusement sparkling in his eye as her frown deepened and a gorgeous pout fell on her lips. “Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?”

“Apart from earlier when you had me in your bed?”

“I believe the word I used then was gorgeous.”

“Well, if you want to be pedantic about it. Not since last night.”

“You did look beautiful last night,” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, his nose bumping hers softly, “I think this version of you is my favourite, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, first thing in the morning. Barely awake and tucked to my side…” Y/N brought both of her hands up to rest on his chest as Sebastian’s grip tightened on her waist, her fingers brushing his collarbone delicately. “I meant what I said earlier. I could get used to waking up beside you. Every day.”

“For how long?”

“For the rest of our lives.” Y/N’s breathing stilled at his words, at the raw emotion and sincerity on his face as he spoke. She felt the back of her eyes burn and tried to look away but he held her in place and kissed her cheek gently. “Do you know what you do to me? How completely and hopelessly you enrapture me? You’re bewitching.”

“Was that a pun?”

“Shall I use a different word?” he murmured. His thumb stroked her cheeks gently, her skin burning in its path. “You’re exquisite, flawless, downright ethereal.”

“Seb…”

“From that very first day you smiled at me, you had me. I fell for you harder and faster than anyone I’ve ever met before. My heart was yours before I knew nothing more than your name.”

“My heart is yours too, you walnut. It’s only ever been yours. From the very first moment.”

“I adore you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

He finally closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers so gently that Y/N thought her heart would burst out of her chest. She wound her hands up and into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as she kissed him back and he nipped at her lower lip. His grip on her waist tightened pleasantly, holding her body against his so every inch of them was touching, and Sebastian swore he had died when she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and ran her fingers down his back. They broke away as Ominis called for them from downstairs, both of their faces tinged pink as they took in each other’s swollen lips and tousled hair. Sebastian leant back in to press one more sweet, toe-curling kiss on her lips.

“I’m going to marry you one day,” he muttered against her lips, his mouth curling into a smile as he heard her breath hitch.

“I’ll be the one in white.”

Epilogue

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x fem!reader #hogwarts game #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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shirefantasies · 7 months

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Hello again! I have another request that came to me as I was submitting a different one. How do you think Thorin's or the LOTR companies would react to reader having a buzzcut. Especially for dwarves who pride themselves in long intricately done hair and braids. Would they think something bad must've happened to the reader for them to have short hair. Cue misunderstandings and fluff, with maybe hair petting(buzzcuts are super soft!) Hope this sounds interesting enough to do, have a good day again! :)

(I literally lied on my last post THIS is my last pre-op post by the 45 minutes left before my operation appointment)

Heck yeah friend I love this! I don’t quite have a buzzcut but my hair’s far shorter than the average lady’s & definitely so for a dwarf, so I wonder about this too 😁 hope you enjoy 🥰 Warnings: a little violence in one reaction, injury mention in another

Thorin’s Company When You Have a Buzzcut

Balin

“You’re causing quite a stir with everyone, you know that?” Giving a chuckle at Balin’s cheeky look, you lean forward with your chin upon your hand. “And why is that?” “At risk of offense,” the older dwarf answered, ��they all want to know what happened to your hair.” “Yourself included,” you shot back with a grin, “or else you’d not be asking.” Taken aback, Balin stutters a bit. “Ah, well, I confess I am a bit curious, after all. Reminds me of when my brother first took all his off. What a stir over something so silly. Do what you like, I was just wondering if Dwalin was trying to get you all painted up too.” “Not yet,” your smile softens and you give him a wink, “but if he does you’ll be the first to know. Ahead of all the sensation.”

Dwalin

You start the conversation on this one, seeing that Dwalin is the other company member with little to no hair upon his head and considering it a bonding opportunity. “Well, I’ve got a reason,” he shoots back to your comment of similarity, arms crossed but expression teasing, “what’s yours? You need some tattoos up there at least.” “No thank you,” you tell him, “if I’m adding any tattoos it won’t be on top of my head! Feel how soft it is up here.” Dwalin looks at you, prompting you to take his hand and put it on top of your head, his eyebrows raising at the sensation. And perhaps because touching one’s hair is a much closer and more intimate thing for him than perhaps you realize. You are quite forward, aren’t you?

Thorin

Pays little mind to how you wear your hair…or lack thereof. In fact, by your appearance he gauges you to be a warrior of some kind, thus taking command of your actions in a fight and seeking proof of your prowess. Before your first encounter with a threat the king’s questions are more along the lines of “What is your weapon of choice?” and “From where in these lands do you hail?” The day the company fights a pack of orcs, you manage to take down more than Thorin expected and at one point, you even jump in front of Dori to parry before a potentially deadly strike takes him off guard. Rising from the struggle of battle, black blood splattered across your layers and even your shaven head, you feel a hand upon your shoulder. Thorin. "It can be hard for us to look beyond our own kin," he tells you, "but you have well proven yourself today. We may not always understand each other, but there is a beauty in that, too, I see."

Oin

Wincing despite your gratitude, you shifted in your seated position while Oin packed the poultice into the wound your side had suffered. "Don't worry, you'll go numb in a bit. If it stings, that is quite alright, that simply means you are getting clean again." Thanking him through heavy breaths, you watched as the dwarf reached a hand up toward your head, running a hand over the soft, shorn little bit of cover it had. "And this one's healing quite nicely, quite nicely indeed. Why, I cannot even see the scar!" The sting in your bloody side faded down a bit as you tilted your head to fix Oin right in the eyes. "What scar?" "Did they not have to sew up your head at some point? Figured that's why they shaved you down," he answered, finally removing his hand from your head. You giggled at that, regretted stretching yourself at a new, though much smaller, arc of pain. "No, my dear Oin, I am afraid the only thing my head has suffered is my typical madness," you teased, waving your hands mystically and grinning at the way the healer laughed.

Gloin

"Pardon me, my dear," your name rolled smoothly off Gloin's tongue as he shuffled forth, hands folded in front of him in the picture of innocence. Oh, this was going to be good. "Yes?" You indulged him, swiveling to give your full attention. The auburn-haired dwarf pointed to his head, his own flowing locks. "What happened t'yer hair?" Perhaps sheepishly, his voice suddenly quickened. Feeling your eyebrows involuntarily raise, you tilted your head- this was not exactly what you’d expected, after all. “I cut it,” you shrugged, “got tired of how it was before. Simply wanted a new beginning, you could say.” Gloin’s eyes never left yours. “So no accident?” “No.” “Ha!” The dwarf bellowed, waggling a hand at his brother and a small scattering of company members a ways back. “I was right! By choice! Now pay up and remember I told ya it was worth the risk!” Shaking your head, you playfully smack him on the shoulder. “I’d better get a cut from this, you ol’ scallywag!”

Bifur

Catching Bifur signing, you turn his way, seeing the motions he performs by his head. “Did you cut your hair yourself?” You realize he is asking. “No,” you sign back, “another did it for me.” “You must trust them a great deal.” Simple enough words signed and yet there is something in the way his eyes shine, the fond inquisition in his smile, that brings a little shock of joy to you. Barring royal dressings, it was far more common for one to do their own hair or entrust it to a loved one, and you could see intimacy in the act. It almost brought a pang of regret that it was just some small-town hairdresser that sheared it at your asking and payment. Your hands freeze for a moment as your eyes search Bifur before you finally sign a response. “I suppose. Perhaps if you ever want to do something different with your hair, I could help you, too.”

Bofur

A mix between caring and teasing, he offers you cover! “Your head looks cold. Need to borrow my hat?” Thinks he’s so funny he laughs at his own joke whether you roll your eyes or joke back. “But really, any particular reason you took it all off?” "It was uncomfortable having it long," you admit, "I was tired of it all being in my face." The way everyone spoke of dwarven culture, you half expect disapproval, but this is Bofur you speak of. Instead he nods acceptingly, smiling in that way that always has you feeling seen and reassured. "I understand that." "You do?" "Sure I do! Why do you think I keep mine braided out to the sides like this?" At that, you smile back. "Besides," he continues, "helps me see all the best sights. The trees, the flowers, that smile of yours..."

Bombur

“Singe all your hair off?” Bombur nods sagely despite the fact that he couldn’t be more wrong. “I’ve been there. Burned my beard leaning too far over the stove.” You can’t even correct him right away because you’re too busy laughing. Finally, though, you explain to him that your hair was simply so unhealthy it needed to start over. “Ah, I see, I see! Trying to take better care of it, then?” At that, you nod. He looks at you with new interest, eyes shining eagerly. “So what would you like to do with it next? I’ve got some things you might like to put in it, and I think it would look mighty nice if you wanted to try…”

Dori

"Sometimes I wish I could do that, too," Dori remarks one day, rolling blue eyes illuminated beneath the sun that peeked between the branches. Shifting carefully so as to not disturb your pony, you turned back to face him. "Do what?" "Cut all my hair off just to save some time in the morning!" He replied with a wave of a hand in your general direction. Chuckling, you gave a conceding nod. "I suppose you would gain back an hour, wouldn't you?" At that, it was Dori's turn to laugh. "But then again," you continued, "then you couldn't wear as many of those nice clips and cases. That is one thing I miss about having it all." Puffing up like a proud little bird, Dori smiled. "They are quite nice, aren't they? You know, if you ever get so bored you're tempted to let it all come back, I could make you some of your own."

Nori

Abrasive as it was, Nori's question found you in a way that raised such amusement you forgot to be upset with him entirely, instead simply falling back with a bark of laughter before you answered. "Looks like you're tryin' to hide your identity. You on the run from someone?" He continued musing, in fact, as you laughed. "Law somewhere? A scorned lover? Simply run off with something too valuable not to do that?" Finally, your voice returned. "All this because I've sheared my head down?" You burst out incredulously. "Ever consider," you gasped in mock-scandal, "I like it like this?" "Sure, but that's not exciting," Nori shot back with a smirk, "I like a good story." "Well," you crossed your arms, "perhaps I still have some of those, too."

Ori

Shuffling up to you was the youngest dwarf in the company, sweet Ori; Ori was one of the dwarves who accepted outsiders most readily, and you spent plenty of time at his side watching his drawings and records come to life. That day, though, what was in his hand was not his book, rather a bundle of fabric. "I made this for you." Eyes widening, you extend your hands to accept the soft knitting, peering back at Ori. "I thought your head must get cold," he explained his craft as you unfolded it, revealing a thick, sturdy cap you immediately began pulling onto your head, "does it fit?" Yarn hugging your head perfectly, you nodded. "It's just my size. Thank you." Before he could speak again, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. "This is the kindest thing anyone has done for me in some time. Thank you."

Fili

“One of my braids came undone. Kili?” The younger Durin prince seemingly did not hear the request for his presence, so you stepped forward. “I can help.” Goggling at you, Fili posed a question. “Do you even know how?” Hand falling to your hip, you shot him a look. “Though I may not possess them myself, I am quite capable of doing them up.” The golden-haired dwarf looked sheepish, a bit of the mischief fading from his blue eyes. “Suppose I assumed you didn’t much enjoy doing them either,” he told you with a nod toward your head. “Well,” a teasing smile drifted across your face, “I certainly would…unless you are scared.” You were no fool. You knew how the Durins were with challenges. And if you remembered correctly, you knew how dwarves were with braids…

Kili

He cares some of the least out of the dwarves being the least traditionally presenting himself. He’s sort of the type to be a little attracted to everyone, enjoying the unique traits of all types of people. You still cannot help being a bit surprised when he flirts with you, though, not expecting someone with a cut like yours to catch his eye or draw his teasing. “Not one for a courting braid, I see? No one worthy of putting one on you, no doubt.” For all his jesting questions, he never actually demands an answer, though. Instead he simply launches into a story about a haircut prank he pulled with his older brother once to keep light conversation flowing. “Well, by the end of it our uncle looked quite like you! Except he didn’t pull it off half as well.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins | Let me know if you'd like to join!

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starsomens · 2 months

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 9 • 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓵…

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Warnings: language, reader, inactive situation, reader is drugged at one point, reader is assaulted by getting slapped, mentions of blood, betrayal, (this is like a part 1)

Reference: When I say Noah gears up PLEASE Picture this!

Your head is spinning as he finally come to. Your head was pounding as you could only see the ground. Trying to move your hands you realize that you are bound to where you sat. Trying to move your legs was futile as well as you found yourself strap to chair by rope. Raise your head and try to look around

Didn’t recognize where you were. You couldn’t even see outside from where you were. For all you know, it could be the next morning and you would have no idea.

You turn your head as best as you could to take a good look at your surroundings. There wasn’t anything in the room, except for a dimly lit lightbulb overhead. There were no windows, and it was eerily, quiet, the type of silence to drive someone crazy if they were there long enough. And Alfred…that bastard!

You start to struggle against your streams just a bit trying to see if you can find any kind of wiggle room to get out. You wiggle around the chair, making it lean from side to side. You start going back-and-forth groans, frustration, escape your lips wanting to break free from the ropes. You unfortunately, move a bit too much and causes air to fall over onto its side, causing you to shriek as you slam onto the cold floor

“Fuck….” You say a bit out of breath as you rest your head on the cold floor hating that you were now in a worse situation than it was when you were sitting just open with a heavy scraping along the floor. In steps to armed in masked men while another man walks in. He wore a black suit. With a scar going down his face from the left corner of his eyebrow down to the right corner of his lip.

“Looks like you’re finally awake,” a gruff and deep voice comes from the character in front of you. This must’ve been easy. You remember him vividly from the picture Noah has showed you. “ Listen whenever these things involve ladies such as yourself I hate to see things and messy, so let’s make this nice and simple huh?” he said coming over and picking up the chair off of the floor sitting back up right

"I need you to leave Sebastian, go back to your little family and forget all this bullshit, got it?" Sebastian?

"leave...Noah?"

"Ah, you got it, smart girl," he gives you the fakest smile possible. "you didn't actually think of staying with him did you?" he chuckled

"Well....I wasn't exactly planning on leaving either," you answer

"Right now you take way more than you can chew, my advice, back up, step down, find some kid who's willing to kiss your feet. This matter isn't up to you," he says lighting a cigar and taking a long puff, the smoke surrounding his head

"See I either need him unattached or married to Denise, you on the other hand, are dragging him down,"

"Denise?" You ask with a smirk

"Yea...Denise, something funny?" he asks stepping closer to you

"Oh it's nothing....just last time I checked Noah couldn't stand her," something in you wanted him to know exactly who you were and where Noah stood with you. "and if anyone was on heir knees for me...it was Noah, wanting ME to come home.."

Lucian glared at you through his nose as his jaw clenches

"So, why don't you try and stick your bratty daughter with some other other poor-" a sharp pain comes across your face, his large hand leaving your right cheek stinging. You were sure that was going to bruise. He says nothing as he sneers at you and walks away, he stands in the door way and says

"you're lucky I need you alive....maybe he can convince you otherwise," another figure comes into frame as Lucien shoves him into the room. The heavy door shuts and you find yourself with a familiar face

"....Mathew?...."

(Noah)

"Get all the dogs out and tracking, I need a scan of every dock we have-and where the fuck is Nick?!"

Noah was on a rampage. He was at his office pressuring his workers to find you faster, any clues, any signs, ANYTHING. He had gotten no sleep while he drove around the city to find you. Now back in his office having his men try and track you down.

You were gone, with no phone, and nothing left behind. Luckily Koda had gotten some DNA in his mouth and Nick was currently processing it. However, it's been about 5 hours now and Noah wanted answers 3 hours ago. But Nick had to get any kind of DNA possible that was in the mouth of a dog for some time. He was determined to find who took you and personally deal with them.

"Keep your pants on I'm here," he said handing him the file "You're not going to like the results" Noah raises his brow as he opens the file, his eyes going wife

"WHAT?! That piece of shit!" Alfred of all people, the one he assigned to you, to drive, "FUCK!.....how's Vilma doing?" he asked running his hand over his face. While looking around the mansion he had found Vilma tied and sedated in her room. Probably just an hour before everything happened

"Vilma is recovering, she can't recall anything past the time you left. The cameras were cut, security was tapped into and told to leave post, everything was thought through," Nick tells him everything he needs to know "But I don't think it was all Alred..."

"who would you-" "Sir," someone interupts Noah

"Not no-,"

"But sir it's Lucien..." he stops talking and turns to his man, taking the phone he puts it to his ear and walks out into the hallway to speak with him

"Lucien,"

"Noah my, how are ya'?" he asked knowing damn well what the answer was

"Shit, Y/N is missing, fucking Alfred took her," he stresses "Listen, did you need something? I'm a little busy right now..."

"Oh don't worry you can call off the little treasure hunt, I've got all your answers,"

"Call of the- what the hell are you......Lucien...what the fuck do you mean you have my answers?"

"Don't worry she's safe, no wounds, no broken bones no split lip, but she has a mouth on her, don't know how you put up with hat shit,"

"...." Noah was silent. He either mouthed off and something happened to you, or he shut up and thought of his next move

"Look you want this girl back right? Or for the most part alive and free right?" he took a pause knowing Noah would just listen to him "leave the broad, get Denise, and it's over"

"This is still about Denise?-"

"Damn right it is, point is I need YOU to stay in fucking line. Marry her, take your place and forget this ever happened...got it?"

"I'm coming for Y/N." was all Noah said

"What? Listen you fucking-hello? Hello?!"

he hung up, drops the phone on the desk and leans into Nicks ear and says

"Get everyone in the garage, we're heading to Lucien,"

"Lucien!? But Noah-" the door closes to the room before Nick could stop him. As Noah walks down the hall he could feel was...numbness, he felt a hole in his chest...but he felt that hole being filled by something. Something vengeful and violent. He was getting you back and he was taking down ANYONE who stood in his way. He goes into his private closet and readies himself (see linked image at top). Signature ski mask, his gun, ammo, gloves, some smoke bombs and some sedatives. Looking himself over in the mirror to make sure he didn't forget anything, he sees a small picture of you in the frame. It was a candid picture that was taken on the day you had gone shopping. You were relaxed and at ease, and even had a soft smile. That was the first day Noah looked at you and thought of you as his....his wife, his girl....his.

A knock comes to the door

“Come in,” Noah says as he’s checking his gun for ammo. As he looks a PCs jolly and her. The tall, long haired man was also armed and ready to go at a word.

“Just say the word we’re good to go…”

“Good, I hope they all know we’re not leaving until we bring her back alive”

“Oh we are well aware of that one….Noah,” jolly rests his hand on Noah’s shoulder “we’re getting her back…knowing you, you’ll kill Lucian yourself if it means getting her back”

“…..” Noah didn’t know what to say. There were many times he would go to Jolly looking for someone to trust in someone to give him advice.

“I know you love her…” that statement made no turn around

“But-“

“Oh come on noah,” he chuckles “I see the way you look at her, and when was the last time you bought that many flowers for a single girl? Let alone someone you were in a relationship with,”

Oh cracked a smile “you got me there…”

It was true you were the first girl he had ever been that way with. Even in relationships or affairs he show little to no emotion or interest. You however, had gotten this man onto his knees, bought flowers that cost him thousands, he would kiss your feet if you asked him to. You were his wife....you were his girl....

"get the trucks fueled up, we're leaving in 5."

(Y/N)

"Mathew....what the fuck...."

"...." he was quiet as he looked at you and then down to his feet

"Mathew fucking answer me why are you here!? Get me lose!"

"I...I can't....Lucien he-"

"Oh whatever he's your boss and? I'm your sister-"

"Y/N..." he rubbed at his eyes as he started swaying in his spot

"No, don't shut me up! Why the fuck are you here?"

"Because I asked him to!" he revealed, it couldn't have been what you were thinking right?

"Asked him....to what?...."

"To fucking bring you here what else? Like did you actually think it would work between you guys?"

"Oh please you don't even-"

"This man kills people with his bare fucking hands, he's slept and ditched women left and right! You didn't even want this so why are you fighting this so hard?" He barks, he couldn't grasp why this was so important to you, "Just sign the papers, I'll take you home and none of this happened....that's final."

"So what you take dad's place and suddenly your on a power drive?" you roll your eyes

"Remember when I had gone to visit you? How you asked if I was doing okay?," that was the day after you had slept with Noah "I was going to tell you how I found a way to bring you home, where you wanted to be," he said as he paced in the small space "Do you know how much money, the shit I had to do, the blood I lost so I could bring you out of your misery?! Just so you can go and fuck him?!"

"You don't get to dictate my life!" you snap back "What if I don't want to go back? What if I want to stay? What if shit changed?!" Mathew had a puzzled look on his face and suddenly his face comes to a realization

"...you like him...don't you?" it was quiet, you could hear the buzz of the naked bulb in the room

"....." you blink at him

"In fact you fucking love him don't you?" he gives a breathy scoff "All of this shit for nothing.....and you love him-"

"I don't!"

"Don't give me that bullshit! You fucking slept with him, and went back after you came home!,"

...What if he was right? What if...you did love him...and wanted to be with him

"Mathew....please, you need to understand....I-I..."

"You don't have to explain," he turns his back to you and starts leaving

"Mathew! Wait Ple-" he shut the door cutting you off, you could only slouch over yourself as you felt tears well up in your eyes. You cry in your pitiful state. You were always so close with your brother and now this?? You were kidnapped, tied up, betrayed and now alone in this stupid fucking cell.....all you could really do was cry....and Noah....did you.....

As you sat there thinking about what Mathew had said you couldn't help but think back to all this time you had been together. All those nights together, dinners, shopping, morning hours wrapped in his arms, soft kisses int he shower. Those nights he would come home with blood on his hands, and those same hands would hold and caress you like the most fragile thing in the world....and you missed it. You missed his scent, his smile, his big figure shielding you....you missed Noah

Mathew POV:

I couldn’t believe it. My own sister, fell in love with a bastard like Noah….Do all this for her just so she can say she doesn't want to...

I knock on Lucian's door and wait for his guards to open up for me. The dark double doors open with a moan as I see him sitting at his desk, cigar between his lips, and a glass of some expensive brand of whiskey. He seemed almost staged, like the mafia bosses you see in movies. I stop a few feet from his desk

"She won't do it..."

"Make her. I don't got time to fuck around, kid." he said grabbing a wad of cash with his big hands hand , his finger flicking through the bills

"I can't! She won't budge, look we can just call this off and he goes back and-oof!" one of his guards comes and gets a hit in my stomach with his knee. The hit knocking the air out of my lungs, knocking me on to my knees

"I invested too much of my time into your bullshit! You're gonna fucking make her or I will," as I stare at the ground in front of me, his shiny shoes stopping in front of me "either Denise is in the picture and that bitch is out, or I'll make sure you both disappear off the face of this city......got it?"

I mumbled something under my breath, knowing I'd say it to his face but I wasn't trying to get killed on the spot

"Fuck you say to me ya lil pussy?" he voice was low but threatening, I could feel his hand in my hair as he pulls on it to make me look up at him "You wanna say that shit again?!"

My chest rises and falls as i stare him in the eye "Fuck. You." he pushes me back on to the floor and let's go of my hair

"mm aight..aight..." he said slightly slurred, he paced in front of my as he rubbed his chin thinking to himself "everyone out, gotta teach 'em myself. kid aint never learn his place,"

the muffled sound of feet on the carpet fades out as the door closed and I'm left alone with Lucien.

"You know why I got red carpets in here...don't you?" he asked opening one of the drawers on his desk, setting something heavy down on the wood furniture "it's so I'm not reminded of the useless scumbag blood left on my floor,"

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

[Taglist🥃] @millie-aubs @daylightlvrs @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @artificialstardust @lizzyanthony3 @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @lust-for-sacher @missduffsblog @thecartelqueen @twyftwyt @thenoahsebastianfiles @sorrowsofsilence @chemicallady @chemicaltendancies @shilohrosechicken @thefallennightmare @crimson-calligraphyx @calleyx13 @iknownothingpeople @lilhobgobbler @niicoleleigh @badomensls @ladispo0p @skulliecadaver-blog @malixxxmizer @kageyasma @samanthasgone @the-ancient-fae @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @thebadchic @badomensbabe @dsireland86 @ebechnasheim @somewhere-diamond @hayleylatour @raydenrrobertson @sundamariis @red-ace-in-space @rosebushjhj

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #the contract by star✨#the contract #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x reader mafia au #mafia au

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cynicalrosebud · 1 month

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Rumor Has It (2)

Part 1 Part 3

Hey folks! Welcome back to another installment of Rumor Has It. Before we start, reminder that this is a poly!141 x oc(ish) reader fic. There is sex, swearing, and violence, so MDNI. Sorry kiddos. Anywho, this is based right before CodMWII and takes place in early 2022. The boys are off on some made up mission when they meet Rumor. Warning that I will be heavily modifying the actual timeline for my own amusement. Ok, that’s all for now! -Cyn 🌹

Location: A remote village safehouse, Eastern Europe, just after dusk.

The safehouse was an old, dilapidated cottage nestled deep in the woods, far from prying eyes and enemy patrols. The windows were grimy with age, and the wooden beams creaked under the weight of time, but it was secure and off the grid—perfect for Task Force 141 to regroup and debrief after their latest mission.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the lingering tension of battle. The only light came from a single, dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long shadows across the room. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and the sharp tang of gunpowder, remnants of the fight they’d narrowly escaped.

Price was the first to break the silence. He removed his cap and ran a hand through his short, graying hair, the lines on his face deepening with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he settled into one of the old wooden chairs at the scarred table in the center of the room. The others followed, each man carrying the weight of the day’s events in their eyes.

“Alright, Rumor,” Price began, his voice a low rumble that commanded attention, even in the quiet of the room. “Time to finally put a face to that cheeky voice. Show yourself.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the safehouse generator, the silence stretching as the team waited. Then, from the shadows near the far wall, a figure emerged.

Rumor stepped into the light with an easy confidence that belied the tension in the room, helmet removed. He had a good build, with sharp features that seemed to always be on the verge of a smirk. His eyes, piercing, sparkled with a mischievous glint as he took in the sight of Task Force 141 sizing him up.

“Didn’t think you’d be this eager t’ see me again, Captain,” Rumor said, his Welsh accent smooth and lilting, with a hint of playfulness that didn’t quite match the severity of the situation.

Soap raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a skeptical grin. The Scot’s accent was thick as he spoke, the words tinged with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “So, this is the infamous Rumor? Thought ye’d be taller, mate.”

Rumor chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly as he let his gaze sweep across the room. “Ah, but isn’t that the beauty of a rumor? They’re always bigger than the truth.”

Ghost, who had been watching Rumor with his usual inscrutable expression, crossed his arms over his broad chest. His voice was low, almost a growl, as he spoke through his balaclava. “You’ve got a lot of answers, haven’t you?”

Rumor’s grin widened, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. “Depends on the question, doesn’t it? Ask the right one, and I might even give you a straight answer, ysbryd.”

Gaz leaned forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. The youngest of the group, his London accent gave his words a quick, clipped edge. “How d’you know Price? You sound like you two go way back.”

Rumor glanced at Price, and for a moment, something passed between them—an unspoken history, perhaps. “We’ve had our fair share of adventures,” Rumor replied, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “Back in the day, he was my superior. We didn’t always see eye t’ eye, though. I liked t’… color outside the lines.”

Price let out a low grunt, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s puttin’ it lightly,” he said, his accent softened but still carrying the weight of authority. “Rumor here was always more interested in breakin’ the rules than followin’ ‘em.”

Soap laughed, nudging Ghost with his elbow, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Sounds like someone I know.”

Ghost shot him a side-eye but didn’t respond, his gaze still fixed on Rumor.

Gaz leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he continued to probe. “So why’d you leave the military? Got tired of orders?”

Rumor’s smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of something almost like regret passing over his features. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual cheeky demeanor. “Something like that. The military’s great for some people, but me? I’m more of a ‘get the job done by any means necessary’ kind of guy. Didn’t always fit within the neat little box they wanted t’ put me in.”

Soap smirked, his rough Scottish brogue filling the room with a teasing lilt. “You’re a loose cannon, then.”

Rumor shrugged again, his grin returning full force. “Cannon, missile, grenade – depends on the day.”

Ghost, still watching him closely, finally nodded, his tone begrudgingly respectful. “And now you’re here, helpin’ us. Why?”

For the first time, Rumor’s expression softened, sincerity creeping into his voice despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s just say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for the old man.” He nodded towards Price, then added, “Besides, I don’t like the way things are goin’. Figured it’s time t’ put my skills t’ good use.”

Price looked at Rumor with a mix of respect and exasperation, shaking his head slightly. “Still the same stubborn bastard. But I’ll give you this – you’ve always had a knack for gettin’ results.”

Rumor’s grin widened, his confidence shining through. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

Soap leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a challenge. “Alright then, Mister Talented. How ‘bout ye show us what ye’ve got in the field? See if ye can keep up.”

Rumor laughed, a sound full of genuine amusement. “Oh, you’re on, mate. Just don’t cry when I leave you in the dust.”

Ghost, who had been quietly assessing Rumor’s every move, finally nodded, a hint of approval in his voice. “We’ll see about that.”

Gaz grinned, feeling the tension in the room ease slightly as the banter continued. “Welcome t’ the team, Rumor. Just don’t get too cheeky with us, yeah?”

Rumor winked, his smirk firmly in place. “No promises, mate.”

As the night wore on, the safehouse began to feel less like a place of refuge and more like a gathering of comrades. The shadows still lingered, but they were less oppressive, softened by the growing camaraderie between the men.

But despite the laughter and the teasing, there was still a sense of uncertainty in the air. Rumor was a wildcard, a man who played by his own rules. The rest of Task Force 141 couldn’t quite figure him out, and that made him both an asset and a potential threat.

As they settled in for the night, each man carried his own thoughts about their new ally. Rumor had proven himself useful, even invaluable, during the mission. But trust was earned, not given, and the team would be watching him closely.

For now, though, they were all on the same side, fighting the same fight.

#x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #rumor has it #fanfic #18+ mdni

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jellieland · 11 months

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It's just like them, thinks Martyn, miserably, To want to make these things stick.

He's always been an "act first, weasel your way out of any potential consequences later," kind of guy, so immediate, painful and permanent consequences to his recklessness strike him as unfair, unwarranted, and quite possibly a personal attack.

But, well. Here he still is anyway. What's he going to do about it?

His ankle burns where the baby zombie clawed at it. His legs ache from the dripstone, and the dripstone, and, yes, the dripstone again, and also walking off Mumbo's house and perhaps slightly misjudging his landing.

His ear keeps ringing and most of his right side stings from the creeper that decided, quite rudely, to sneak up on him and then blow up directly in his face about half a second before he could raise his shield. And the gravel later on, that he'd seen falling but still not managed to avoid, hadn't helped with any of that either.

He can feel blood dripping down his back in no less then five separate places, along with his arm, his shoulder, and the side of his head—that last one bled a lot and got onto his bandanna which was pretty annoying, actually—all from his many encounters with what he thinks were probably, at a conservative estimate, about a billion skeletons.

He doesn't quite glare up at the Secret Keeper. The healing they'd given him had been too much of a relief for that; his vision had stopped swimming, that head wound had stopped bleeding so much, and it was significantly less painful to walk. But the look he gives them is certainly glare-adjacent.

"You do know injuries aren't supposed to stick around like this, don't you?" he mutters, bitterly. "I know you like twisting stuff, but this is ridiculous. It's unnatural, is what it is!"

Someone snorts behind him.

He turns, and he sees Cleo. Neat, meticulous stitches are visible across their skin. Martyn hasn't met many people with scars before, but she's one of them.

The only new one is what looks, ironically enough, like a zombie bite on their arm, entirely healed over.

"It's really not that hard to deal with if you're just patient," she says.

"Ah," he says. "Well. That's my problem right there, then, isn't it?"

"It certainly looks like it," they say, amused. They're laughing at him again. He can't even be mad, since all in all, he totally deserves it.

"Yeah, alright," he says, a bit indignant just for the sake of what remains of his pride. "No need to rub it in! I hope you realize that if healing just worked normally, I'd be doing really well, actually."

"Hmm. Right, you do tend to throw yourself off of cliffs, and then try and work out how you'll save yourself on the way down, don't you?" She gives him a knowing look. "But look on the bright side—when you do die, you'll get to be perfectly healthy again for... I give it ten seconds. After that, you'll start making decisions."

"Hey, I'll have you know I went to the Nether for ages, and got out without a scratch on me that I didn't have when I arrived!" he retorts.

"Oh, so you can be careful, you just choose not to be?" They raise a judgemental eyebrow.

"Well... I mean." He half-shrugs, then winces. "I mean. Yeah. Yes. You know this about me."

There is a brief pause. She gives him an unreadable look, eyes catching on the blood seeping through his shirt. "...Yeah. I guess I do."

He glances over at the Secret Keeper again, bold and unmoving against the unnaturally darkened sky.

When he looks back, Cleo is still watching him. "You didn't even bandage those, did you?" they ask, with a touch of what most people would think was disdain. "Let alone stitch them up."

"I mean, no? It's not like it'll do anything, is it?" he asks, taken aback. "The good old 'Powers That Be' want us to bleed, and they want us to keep bleeding! Who am I to argue?"

She narrows her eyes as though she doesn't quite understand his point. "I'm not saying that would fix it. I don't think any of us are going to live long enough for that method of healing to work." They shrug. "Would make it hurt less, though."

Now it's his turn to narrow his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "At least, so I've heard. For me, it's mostly about making sure I don't start physically falling apart, because it's really inconvenient when that does start happening."

He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, maybe I'll give it a go if I have the time." It all sounds a bit far-fetched to him. Much better to spend time working towards completing the next secret task he gets, or persuading people to give him the healing they have to spare, rather than losing hours on something that wouldn't actually help him in the long run.

(Maybe it's an echo, maybe it's just who he is, but Martyn's time is precious, and he is not giving it up for something so monotonous. Who would find that interesting?)

"Alright," they say. "If you're sure. But no one else is going to do it for you, you know."

He snorts. "Cleo," he says. "You're funny." She, of all people, should know he's already well aware of that.

"Right," they say, dryly. "Well, unless you want anything else I think I'm done here."

"Nah, not really." he says, then pauses. Frowns.

As unconvinced as he is, she really didn't have to say that to him. She deserves at least something in return.

"I will say," he says delicately, "if that advice really does help. You should probably keep it to yourself. You know. Death game, and all that."

All at once, their expression turns cold. "I think it's my business what I choose to give up, actually," she snaps.

Martyn's eyes briefly flick over to the Secret Keeper. "I mean..."

"No. I meant what I said." They cross their arms. "It's up to other people what they choose to do with it. But what I give them is up to me." She glances at the Secret Keeper, and then back to him. "No one's ever been able to tell me what I owe, or don't owe, to anyone." They smirk, and give him a piercing look. "You know this about me."

"...Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."

There is a short silence.

"Well!" He claps abruptly. "I won't keep you!"

"No, you won't," she says. "I'd best be off. This might come as a surprise, but I do actually have better things to do than hang out around Grian's creepy rock all day."

"Fair, fair." He chuckles, and raises a hand in farewell as they leave. "See you around."

Once she's out of sight, he goes back to staring at the Secret Keeper.

It's quiet.

"They're doing pretty well this time, huh?" he says. "If she keeps going like this, she probably won't get another happy ending, will she."

The air is very still, here. It's as though the place is trapped in night, even when he can see the sun in the sky.

The Secret Keeper does not answer him.

"I know you, though," he says. "You won't let it be all about being careful. That would be boring."

The thought nags at him that Cleo hasn't sounded as though they'd found any of this boring. Surely there had to be more to it than what she'd said? There had to be.

If there wasn't, then what was the point of all this pain?

He shifts, and his shoulder twinges, and he hisses quietly with frustration.

"Things already stuck," he says, unhappily. "They already stayed. I thought that was obvious."

The rock just stands there.

Judgemental. Impartial. It's impressive how it can manage to be both.

Martyn sighs heavily, and winces, and turns away. He looks towards his extremely small, entirely copied base, and a place where the sky is capable of letting in the light.

He pokes gingerly at his head wound. It's shallow, but painful.

"Maybe just this one," he mutters. "Could repurpose my bandanna. Although I guess I should probably wash it first. That would be smart." He wipes at his face. "If I don't then blood's going to start getting in my eyes. But not in a cool way, just in a way where I'll fall in a ravine by accident or something."

Nobody responds. That's ok. He hasn't exactly endeared himself to anyone, recently.

In a game that's even more about trust than usual, there's a part of him that doesn't mind being a lone wolf, as it were. At least for now. Harder to stab someone in the back if you don't let them get behind you, right?

He can make this work. He'll just have to adapt. He's good at that, usually! He just has to find the angle.

After all, he may not be patient, but he is persistent.

And he suspects being a liar will come in handy, for this one.

#secret life #secret life smp #martyn inthelittlewood #zombiecleo #my writing #i really like just how polar opposite their first episodes were #and how much it says about how they play these games.#and then there's the way that all damage sort of sticks #every heart you lose is a resource you will not get back. not really.

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natashaslesbian · 2 months

Note

Scar x kid reader the reader is learning how to talk properly and is in the stage of repeating everything and Scarlett had to leave the reader with some of her cast members and the reader hear some of them swearing and later on repeats them to Scarlett

Copy Cat

Word Count: 698

————

It was a beautiful day on the set of Avengers Endgame the cast had a small break in the day and Scarlett used this time so run a few errands. You were sitting comfortably on your mamas hip as she said goodbye to her cast mates, you had met the original 6 cast when they were filming Infinity War so Scarlett was comfortable leaving you in their care. “I shouldn’t be too long” your mom said as she passed you to Jeremy “toe lon” you mumbled happily, smiling widely when the people around you giggled softly. You hadn’t quite got the hang of speaking yet, a few words were audible but most of your speech was a jumbled mess. “That’s right baby too long” Scarlett laughed “mommy will be back soon okay I love you” she said as she kissed your forehead. “Baksun” you babbled making your mom smile proudly.

With a final wave Scarlett was off out, you turned to Jeremy and lifted your arms high in the air “mama bon!” You said. “She has gone hasn’t she!” Jeremy said as he twisted you in his arms “she won’t be long though, why don’t we play eye spy to pass the time?” He asked. “Ey pie!” You cheered, the cast knew it was your favourite game and was sure to keep you entertained while Scarlett was gone. You played happily with Jeremy, Mark, Chris Evans and Robert while Hemsworth went to grab some snacks. “Eye spy with my little eye” Mark said “something beginning with R” you thought hard for a few seconds looking around you to see what began with the letter R. Your eyes lit up when you saw Robert smiling towards you “Robbie Robbie!” You said pointing at him “wav it Robbie?” You asked, looking back at Mark.

You continued to play your game and eventually Chris made his way back to the group, a mountain of snacks in his arms. Walking through the door, Chris bumped into the other Chris, causing Hemsworth to drop the pile of snacks. “Ah Shit!” He exclaimed, bending down to retrieve the fallen food. “Shit” came a small voice from the corner, your voice. The guys were all frozen in their place, surprised by your happiness at saying a curse word. “Shit” you said again, smiling wildly at all the faces staring back at you. “Oh um y/n no don’t say that word it’s naughty and mommy won’t like it” RDJ said, covering his laugh. “Shit!” You said with a frown, attempting to cross your arms. Evan’s rubbed at his forehead before saying “well we’re defiantly gonna be in…” he paused, “shit?” You questioned cutely. “Yeah” Chris sighed.

A little while later, Scarlett returned with a few shopping items and a Starbucks muffin for you. “Hi baby!” She said as she came to pick you up from where you were standing with Mark “mommy!” You exclaimed as you ran to her. “Did you have fun with the boys?” Scarlett asked “I pay ey pie!” You mumbled quickly, wanting to tell your mom all about what you had gotten up to. “You played eye spy! Did you win?” Scarlett said as she placed you back on the floor “mhm” you whispered. Your mom placed down the items she had returned with, “I got you a choccy muffin from buckbucks” Scarlett said, helping you onto the couch. Your mommy came to squeeze herself next to you on the small couch, overestimating how much space there was. Scarlett huffed under her breath when she accidentally sat down on the pile of shopping “oh dear!” She said, thinking you would copy her words. “Uh shit!” You said proudly. The room fell silent as Scarlett turned towards her cast mates “I left her with you for one hour” she said with a raised eyebrow. “It was lady Hemsworth!” Robert said with an outstretched pointed finger. “Shit?” You questioned, wondering why your mom seemed so angry “thanks Chris” Scarlett said as she rolled her eyes. The group burst out laughing as you shouted out your new favourite word once again. It was safe to say Scarlett wouldn’t be leaving you with Hemsworth anytime soon.

————

Taglist<3 (will be updated with new @ soon)

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

#marvel #scarlett johansson #robert downey jr #mark ruffalo #jeremy renner #chris evans #chris hemsworth

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moonselune · 3 months

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Inspired by the latest ask, how about romanced companions not being able to react to a shifter trying to seduce Tav in their form but Tav seeing right through them because they know their partner and a cheap copy cannot indeed replace them.

I'd just like a romanced companion to go "how did you know it wasn't me?" 😍😍😍 Especially Shadowheart. ❤️

I only managed to do the Karlach, Astarion, Wyll and Shadowheart for this as I ran out of inspo but I hope everyone enjoys it!

Karlach:

The shapeshifter approached, taking on Karlach's fiery visage. They strutted towards you, attempting to mimic her confident swagger and warm grin.

"Hey there, love," the imposter purred, trying to sound like Karlach. "Miss me?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest, overall just unimpressed. "Nice try, but Karlach's horns aren't that crooked, and she doesn't call me 'love' in that tone. Also, your smile doesn’t have that same warmth."

The imposter's expression faltered for a moment, but they quickly tried to regain their composure. Before they could respond, the real Karlach's booming laughter filled the air. She stepped forward, her presence commanding and intimidating.

"Nice one! You really thought you could fool my sweetheart? Pathetic," Karlach said, her voice dripping with disdain.

The shapeshifter's confidence wavered further under Karlach's intense gaze. "I-I can be what they want," they stammered.

Karlach's eyes narrowed, her broad shoulders and impressive height making her an even more imposing figure. You leaned against her form in slight glee, oh how you loved it when your girlfriend got scary. "You were just making a big fucking mistake, love" she growled.

The shapeshifter, clearly rattled, quickly fled the scene. Karlach turned to you, her expression softening as she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a warm hug.

You smiled, feeling safe in her embrace. "I knew it wasn't you the moment they spoke."

Karlach chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Good. Because no one can replace the real me."

"And I wouldn't want them to."

Astarion:

The imposter slinked towards you, adopting Astarion's elegant posture and mischievous smirk.

"Darling, it's been too long," they purred, reaching out to caress your cheek.

You smirked, tilting your head. "Astarion's voice doesn't tremble like that, and his eyes sparkle more. Also, he wouldn't be caught dead wearing those boots. And, he doesn’t call me ‘darling’ with such obvious desperation."

Astarion appeared from behind a tree, chuckling as he approached. "Oh dear, did you really think you could pull that off? My darling knows me far too well."

The shapeshifter stammered, clearly taken aback. "B-but I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Astarion interrupted, pressing his dagger to the shapeshifter’s throat. His voice was dangerously sweet. "Flattery will get you nowhere, darling, and to be clear your attempt is nowhere near flattering."

The impostor blinked, taken aback by Astarion’s swift and threatening demeanor. "I-I can be what they want," they tried again.

Astarion’s eyes flashed with irritation. "And yet you will never be me," he hissed. "Leave now, before I ruin my favourite shirt."

The shapeshifter, clearly outmatched, quickly fled under Astarion's fierce gaze. He turned to you, his expression softening.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, his voice now gentle. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I knew it wasn't you the moment they spoke. No one can replace the real Astarion. No one could possibly be that dramatic."

"Oh really?" Astarion's smirk returned, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "Let me show you how dramatic I can really be."

Wyll:

The shapeshifter morphed into Wyll, complete with his charming smile and confident stance.

"Ah, there you are, my love," they said smoothly. "I've missed you."

You snorted, shaking your head and stepping away from the crude imitation. "Wyll has a scar over his eye, not under it. And he doesn't call me 'my love' with that much bravado. Also, he would never wear that shade of red."

The imposter's smile faltered slightly, but they tried to recover. "What do you mean, my love? It's me." they insisted.

Wyll emerged from the shadows, his rapier gleaming in the moonlight. "You heard them. A poor imitation at best," he said, his voice icy and mocking.

The shapeshifter blinked, startled by Wyll's sudden appearance. "B-but I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Wyll interrupted, his rapier now pointed at the impostor. "There is only one Blade of Frontiers, and it’s certainly not you, not with that lack of style." With a swift motion, he stepped between you and the shapeshifter, his eyes narrowing. "Leave now, or face the consequences."

The impostor, clearly outmatched, quickly fled under Wyll's stern gaze. He sheathed his rapier and turned to you, his expression softening.You smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I knew it wasn't you the moment they spoke. No one can replace the real Wyll."

Wyll's smile returned, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Good, my love. Because I'm here to stay."

Gale:

The shapeshifter transformed into Gale, complete with his intricate magical tattoos and confident demeanor.

"My dear, it's been far too long," they said, extending a hand.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Gale never extends his hand to me, it's not like I'm an old buddy of his and his tattoos glow a bit more. And he'd definitely start with a more elaborate greeting. Also, he wouldn’t wear such plain robes. He has much more style than that."

The imposter's confident facade cracked slightly, but they tried to maintain their composure. "I-I can be what you want," they insisted.

Gale approached, a smirk playing on his lips as he conjured a ball of fire. "Indeed. Did you truly think such a rudimentary imitation would fool my darling partner?"

The shapeshifter blinked, clearly startled. "B-but I thought—"

"You thought wrong, evidently" Gale interrupted, his voice laced with authority. "There is only one Gale of Waterdeep, and you are not him."

With a wave of his hand, Gale sent a blast of fire towards the shapeshifter, sending them fleeing. He dispelled the magic and turned to you, his expression softening.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked gently. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I knew it wasn't you the moment they spoke. No one can replace the real Gale. Besides they were far too modest"

"Oh wow, too modest?" Gale's smile returned, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'm sure that is not what you were saying last night."

You slapped his chest and he drew you into a more passionate kiss, as if he was affirming his claim on you. He made sure that the kiss was anything but modest.

Shadowheart:

The shapeshifter approached, adopting Shadowheart's cautious demeanor and cool expression.

"Come, we need to talk," they said softly, reaching out a hand.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Shadowheart's voice is smoother, and she doesn't initiate contact like that. Also, she'd never say 'we need to talk' without a reason."

The imposter's calm exterior cracked slightly, but they tried to maintain their composure. "I-I can be what you need, dearest, just trust me," they insisted.

Shadowheart stepped out from behind a tent, her eyes narrowing. "You heard them. You're nothing but a cheap imitation," she said coldly.

With a swift motion, she drew her weapon and pointed it at the impostor. "Leave, before I decide to end you," she hissed.

The impostor, clearly outmatched, quickly fled under Shadowheart's intense glare. She sheathed her weapon and turned to you, her expression softening.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently. "I won't let anyone come between us."

You smiled, reaching up to touch her cheek. "I knew it wasn't you, silly. the moment they spoke. No one could ever fool me. Though I can't lie, it would have been kinda hot to see the two of you fight over me."

"Well thank god I know a mirror spell or two then." Shadowheart laughed and pulled you into her embrace, beginning to feverently kiss up your neck. You shrieked but happily allowed her assault.

Love you all mes chers - Seluney xoxox

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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Lol, been awhile I have talk or ask.

Reading childhood "friend" Goo x reader made me want Gun reacting Goo on the giving y/n a discount and finding it odd.

Wonder if Gun would tease him lol.

Hey Sam! The timeline of the childhood friend fic doesn't quite match up as it would be pre meeting Gun and then you become a couple so that asshole is money hungry but maybe not that much!

Goo Kim x Reader: Generous (feat. Gun Park)

G/N.

"You're generous with Y/N."

Gun says it like it's a statement of fact. Because it is.

An observation given freely by Gun Park is usually right on the money. He's astute and accurate as always.

And that makes Goo want to punch him.

He holds himself back and opts for casual.

"What can I say, I'm a generous guy." He gesticulates with his black card before handing it over to the store assistant. "Wrap it up nice and pretty please, sweetheart."

He gives them a grin. Tones down the wildness, aims for alluring instead of deranged and they blush. Falling hook, line, and sinker.

‘Ah, still got it.’

Goo waits patiently, rocking slightly back and forth as they put his purchase through and carefully package it up.

Goo waits patiently, ignoring Gun's eyes burning into the back of his head. Unsatisfied with his previous non-answer.

Goo waits patiently, even as the assistant is taking ages. Seriously, how long does it take to wrap something and can Gun fucking gawk at him any harder.

He whirls round.

"What."

Gun raises his eyebrow in response as if to say 'what' back, but he stays silent and staring. Goo doesn't miss the minute smirk pulling at his lips though. He reconsiders making a scene and punching him.

Goo stares back. Eyes narrowing behind his glasses with each passing second.

The quiet conversation of other customers, the rustling of tissue paper, all blurring into the background.

Goo stares and stares, lips thinning.

Thinks about the hideous scar hidden behind Gun's sunglasses. How he would like to cut it back open. Add a few more scars on that bastard's body-

"Are you and Y/N," Gun breaks the silence first. It's unusual. Just like Goo with you. The question must have had his curiosity for some time. He takes an uncharacteristic pause as he considers his phrasing, "... together?"

Goo would rather cut off his own tongue than answer Gun. Just out of principle. Yet... even though you aren't here, denying your relationship, your importance to him seems wrong somehow.

He tries again for evasive instead.

"Why do you want to know?" The blonde waggles his eyebrows at his partner. "You're not my type anyway."

Gun reads between the lines.

Thinks about the expensive (even by their standards) gift taking a painstakingly long time to wrap. Goo's urgency to rush here and buy it for you. The way he lights up responding to your calls and messages. The increasing frequency he has rejected money making opportunities due to other commitments.

The commitments being you, no doubt.

Gun decides it’s as good as confirmed.

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #lookism fic #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo #gun park #wannaeatramyeon #slimesam hits again

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rascalentertainments · 3 months

Text

Wish Granted 🌟👩🏾🎶 (Wish Reimagined)

Chapter 3: This Wish

Chapter 2

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

After all the inner lights of the Hamlet went out, the camera sweeps across the forest from an overhead shot and then zooms in slowly on a large feline running with elegant speed through the woods...

He leaps over rocks and streams making its way through the greenery as if he was on the hunt. After a few more moments, the lynx eventually approaches Rosas' gate. It slows down once it sees a slim familiar figure not far from the entrance. The lynx smiled and proudly walked over to his master, head held high.

The woman kneel down to greet the feline.

"Ah, I see your back from your trip! Took you longer than expected though. What's the matter? Did a mouse catch your attention along the way?" The queen said sarcastically with a smirk.

Sabor rolled his eyes at the assumption. He was more dignified than that...

The queen quietly chuckled and gave an affectionate rub behind her pet's ears. "Oh relax, I'm only teasing you. I raised you better than that. Now then, were you able to find where those traitors are hiding?"

The lynx nodded with a satisfied grin.

(Okay, just imagine this lynx, but he's Scar coded, and you have our Sabor. That's the inspiration behind him for this and a lot of his facial expressions reference it!)

"All right, now let me see what you've found. The spell should work since its fresh in your mind." Amaya explained. She put her hands on the temples of Sabor, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Sabor's eyes turned fully green and we get an extreme closeup of his right eyes, showing earlier events in a green tint and slightly fuzzy.

We're suddenly in Sabor's POV. The view is low to the ground and its looking at the front entrance of Rosas. He sees a young man in a cloak and aboard a horse leaving the place, then they suddenly take off in a run towards the woods. Sabor was caught by surprise but proceeded to follow the figure, picking up his own pace.

The lynx stayed only a few paces behind the horse, just to avoid being seen, but he kept up with the stranger. Whoever this guy was, he skilled on the horse and had done this many times before. Sabor got distracted for a moment by a mouse that scurried past him. He stops for a moment, the camera jerks itself quickly as Sabor regained his focus.

The feline gives chase once again and goes even faster to catch up with his real prey. Sabor finds the stranger is standing in front of a group of trees. The lynx then sprints to the other side of the path to try and get a view of the stranger's face. He says something in another language and throws something at the trees that make it move. Sabor tries to see the man's face, but its still hidden as he enters the Hamlet.

The lynx tries to enter the Hamlet, but it closes before he can get in. So returns to the bushes and starts to groom himself as he waits for the stranger to come back.

The vision quickly fades to white and Sabor's eyes stop glowing once Amaya moves her hands from his temples. "So, the rumors are true. The Hamlet indeed exists. Mi rey will be very pleased to hear this news." Her voice was cold as the night air itself.

Sabor purred as she lovingly scratched him behind the ear. "Well done, my dear." Her voice changing from cold to warm. "I'll even forgive your moment of weakness. Thanks to you, we'll not only capture the traitors, we're getting closer to having all the power we could ever want."

Amaya got up and turned around to look up at the stars shimmering in the sky, right above the castle. A moment later, the top of the tower opened up.

"It seems my dear husband is ready to try again. Best not keep him waiting, yes?" Amaya asked her lovely lynx, with a raised eyebrow.

Sabor rolled his eyes but followed her anyway. He wasn't really a fan of Magnifico, but he did make Amaya happy, so he tolerated him. The queen and her beloved pet proceeded to enter their home, heads still held high. Once a month after the wishing ceremony, the royals would attempt a feat they believe could make them the most powerful people on earth....

(Pretend that the cat is a lynx in this, okay? 😂 No hate on Charo though, he's fabulous)

"Well now, all this excitement has worn me out." Amaya said, patting her husband's arm gently. He understood the signal and helped her up.

Maginifico chuckled. "Indeed. I'm a bit tired out myself. Trying to pull that blasted star out of the sky can take a lot out of a guy." The two of them proceeded to leave the room until the king stopped in his tracks.

"I just realized something, who was the person who entered the Hamlet? I....just want to talk to him." He asked turing to his wife.

Amaya sighed. "I'm afraid that's the only information Sabor wasn't able to get. His face was covered."

Magnifico glared at the lynx. The lynx hissed back and leaped off the table in annoyance.

"Although I do have my suspicions... Someone who knows their way around this place as we do." Amaya tapped her chin as her brain already thought of the suspects.

"Well, while you ponder on that, I'll lead some of the soldiers straight into those traitors hideout tomorrow night. They won't see us coming if we come in at their most vulnerable, right? Hehehe..." Magnifico replied as he grabbed his staff and looked at his own reflection.

The man he saw in it knew they would soon be the most powerful rulers the world has ever known. His eyes glow green as his laugh and the screen fade to black. (MANIACAL LAUGHING)

After a few moments of silence on the black screen, we hear a deep male voice. "Asha. Have I ever told you about the stars above?"

The screen fades in to watercolor style animation (like the backgrounds in Lilo and Stitch, NOT SLEEPING BEAUTY) we see a large grown man and his daughter sitting on top of an olive tree, looking up at the stars above.

The father had his hand upon the girl's head. "Yeah, you told me the stars are just like us and all of them are different from each other, like people." 9 year old Asha said with wonder.

Tomas chuckled as he patted her on the head. "Yes, yes, I did, but there's something else you should know. You...shouldn't always rely on Magnifico or any one person to make your wish come true."

Asha looked at her dad confused.

Tomas gestures back to the sky, glittering with stars. "The stars are there to guide us, to inspire us, to remind us to believe in possibility. We're all connected in this great circle of life. I've gotten more wisdom from these stars than anyone I've met on Earth. I hope that one day, they could do the same for you."

"But I have you right here for that, papa!" The girl said as she hugged her dad's arm.

Tomas had a sad smile. "I have something for you, consider it an extra birthday gift." He reached in his satchel and pulled out a brown leather covered book and handed it to Asha.

Asha let out an excited gasp, thanked her father and opened the book, only to find it blank. "Aw, where's the story and pictures?"

Tomas put a pencil in front of the blank pages. "That's for you to create yourself."

Asha looked up at her dad in surprise.

"People think wishes are just ideas, but they are part of your heart. So promise me you'll draw and write whatever is in yours. Never let go of your wish." He whispered as a glimmer of hope shined in his eyes.

The little girl smiled and nodded. "I promise."

The camera pans out at the tree as the two of them embraced in a hug. The screen fades to black, but then...

The screen then lights up with green fire as men, women and children are running for their lives fleeing Rosas. Some of them were families with small children. They're feeling into the forest as fast as they can, not looking back.

12 year old Asha is running with Sakina by the hand as they catch up with Sabino who was waiting in the back of a hand made wagon pulled by a horse. He grabbed the two of them and told the rider to start going. They take off, and the last thing Asha sees is Magnifico with coming through the fire, with his own eyes and staff glowing an envious green. His face looking like a mad dog as he screamed.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN AWAY FROM YOUR KING!? I WILL FIND YOU!! YOUR WISHES WILL! BE! MINE!!"

The screen is covered in green fire, then it flashes back to 2D animation, with Asha waking up in her bed with a cold sweat. She was breathing heavily and looked frantically for Magnifico.

"Maaaa..." The noise made Asha jump, but she looked down and saw Valentino in her lap and nuzzling his head into her chest, comforting her.

She slowly smiled in relief and hugged her little friend tightly. "Thanks, Val."

The moment is interrupted when both of them hear a loud cry. It sounded like a man in pain, but there's no way...

The two them rushed outside of Asha's room and followed the sounds in the house. Valentino ran ahead of her, sniffed around and stopped in front of Sabino's door. He tried head butting it open, but it didn't work. Asha stepped in and opened for him.

They were met with a terrible sight: Sabino was in bed and grabbing his chest in pain.

"Saba! Saba! What happened!?" Asha ran to his side. She looked for any signs of bruising, or bite marks from an unknown animal, but his body looked physically untouched.

"The-the remedy- I forgot to take it-" he gritted his teeth as he struggled to sit up. He felt like he was grasping for air.

Another pair of footsteps peddled through the hall. Sakina rushed in with a candlestick and a small bottle with a red liquid. "Don't worry, I have it right here."

After Sabino took the remedy (and got a good scolding from his daughter-in-law) he explained to Asha that he had been growing weaker for the past few months and took a homemade remedy every night to ease it. Ever since he lost his wish, he's had these sharp pains that he can't explain. "Maybe my heart knows its missing something important." He said.

When things finally calmed down, the family went back to their respective rooms to sleep.

Asha couldn't even think about going back to sleep so she and Valentino decided to take a walk in the Hamlet to clear her head. They sat by the well together as Asha took out her diary and touched it gingerly, thinking about her saba. Something had to change...

And then we get our next song:

This Wish ⭐

youtube

They promised that they would set us free, give our wishes to them and they’d be safe. (Asha opens up her dairy that contains a two page drawing to the royals, happily granting wishes)

So naive, little did I know, that they had lied, that the truth was so far off...

(She turns the page, showing the two of them going from looking friendly to being cloaked in shadows and sinister smiles)

All these years, my saba cared for me, kept me safe, from vicious royalty.

(She turns to a page containing a sketch of Sabino playing his mandolin happily, with a younger Asha singing happily next to him. She smiles at the sight of it)

But now, it’s my turn to be, the shield for them all, protect my family!

(At the "protect my family" part, she stands up with a determined look in her eyes.)

So I look up at the stars to guide me And I'm throwing all caution to the side

(She proceeds up the hill as she's looking up at the sky, with one star shining brighter than the others)

If knowing what we could be is what drives me Then let me be the first to stand and shout!

So I make this wish To have something more for us than this So I make this wish To have something more for us than this

(on the last "this", the star in the sky starts flicker just a little bit)

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah, ah More than this, oh, whoa, whoa, ah

(Asha speeds up as she gets closer to the top, with Valentino trying to keep up as he looks on with concern)

I always knew I needed freedom to go, But, I did what I was told when someone told me, "No!" Now I've got all of this desire in my heart And I just can't keep the lid on, but I don't know where to start!

(Asha and Valentino make it to the top, where the Wishing Tree is slowly in view)

'Cause we've been here generations and generations, Oh, where should I even begin? I'm done keeping my thoughts in No, I won't stop, no, I'm already rushing in!

(They're at the base, looking up at tree's colorful ribbons, the wind picks up and as they start to wave, the camera pans up at the same star, and now it's begun to flicker and shine faster)

If I could just be free of this feeling of suspension, Oh, where do I go and what do I do? My heart is breaking, but my head's held high, The way you always taught me to

(Asha looks up at the star above with hope)

So I look up at the stars to guide me And I'm taking this as a sign I'm sure there will be challenges that find me But I can take them on one at a time

(The star is rapidly flickering and flucuating as the music picks up)

So I make this wish To have something more for us than this So I make this wish To have something more for us than this!

(The ribbons on tree start to glow as the wind picks up and swirls red and pink leaves around Asha as she spreads arms her arms out, and her hair blowing in the wind)

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah (so I make this wish) Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah, ah (to have something more) More than this, oh, whoa, whoa, ah

(One more look at the star and its shaking rapidly and it finally starts to grow as the music swells)

So I make this wish To have something more for us than this!

(Her eyes are closed until she finishes the song with a wide smile on her face as a small glow starts to appear as the music finishes)

Asha slowly opens her eyes once she finishes and notices one of the stars seems to be flickering rather quickly. It wasn't doing that before. At first Asha wasn't really going to pay it any mind, but then it started to get brighter. And brighter. And brigther. It got so bright that she had to shield her eyes from the light.

The animals near her feet scrambled away, except for Valentino who beleted and hid behind her legs. Asha could barely see, but she swore she could hear... laughing? She tries to look back at the sky, only to see something hurtling STRAIGHT TOWARDS HER.

"What the he-" (her eyes widened) VALENTINO, RUN!" Asha exclaimed as she and the goat tried to run down from the tree. The laughing was growing louder and louder. Seeing that it was pointless, she grabbed her little friend and the two hit the ground together. Just in time too, because that ball of light wooshed right over their heads and down the hill, still laughing along the way.

Both of them looked up and saw the bright light going down the hill, the glowing ball flying through the air until–

"Ow!"

Thump!

"Ow!"

Thump!

"Ack!"

Crack!

"Oof!"

*Cat screeches*

"Sorry! AAAAAHHH–"

BOOM! 🌠

A huge bright yellow cloud of stardust bursts and it spreads out through the Hamlet and covers Asha as she attempts to shield herself and Valentino. As the camera follows the glow, it continues to the forest, across the land and even reached Rosas itself.

In one shot we see a large sleeping teen in his bed, having a bad dream. He's groaning and tossing and turning in his sleep. Once the wave passed over him, he suddenly stopped. He sighed as a smile appeared on his face and he started to snore the night away.

In another shot we see Flazino at his home with some papers piled up. He's attempting to write out the ingredients Amaya uses in her spells to create his own plant growing formula. And on another is a list of other supplies he needed for the Hamlet next month. The teen is bent over the desk with a lit candle nearby, and he's rubbing his forehead in stress. Once the glow passes over him, his eyes popped open and suddenly got inspiration for the spell.

In one last shot, its directly over the King and Queen's castle. Inside, the wishes of the citizens are floating in the lab. They start to rattle and laughter slowly builds up in the room and echoes throughout the castle.

We cut back to the Hamlet where we see Asha running down to the bottom of the hill, Valentino not far behind. Once they reach it, they see the entire center of the Hamlet is covered in gold dust. In an overhead shot, there's a huge imprint of a five pointed yellow star where the ball of light landed, right next to the water well. But instead of them seeing that, they see red long sleeved pajamas lying in the middle of it.

Asha was hesitant to approach it, but still curious. Valentino wanted to stay the neck away from it. "Baaaah?" he asked nervously.

"I...I have no idea what that is, Val. You felt it too, right?" she asked hesitantly.

Valentino shook his head.

"It felt...electric. I could feel so much joy and hope and wonder!" She started to feel some joy herself. Joy she hadn't felt in years. "And it was all wrapped up in the most loving light...." she sighed happily and she gently held her hand over her heart.

Asha suddenly came to her senses. "Wait, can light even be loving?"

The clothes stared levitating slowly off the ground, looking like it was limp in the limbs, with only the collar area glowing.

Both of them stopped cold at the sight.

Now the clothes turned around and started to move towards Asha. The girl was frozen as it approached her. It finally stopped and the collar where the head should be raised up and looked directly in her eyes. Whatever it was, was glowing yellow, with a pair of white eyes and black pupils.

After a moment, finally Asha opened her mouth. "WHAT THE F-" A bright yellow finger emerged from the outfit and quickly booped her on the nose.

"Hold that thought!"

It spoke?!

The being flew backwards to the space it landed in raised itself in the air. As gold dust started to swirl around it, the arm that grew out of the left sleeve gained a hand and four more fingers. A close up shot of the right sleeve grew its own glowing hand and spread out fingers.

The shot goes to the pants where the pant legs shake and two bright yellow feet appears through them, then a pair black Peter Pan style slippers with gold tassels hanging from them covered the glow. Soon the entire outfit turned black as space.

The collar had glowing white pointed hair was sticking out, and the left hand reached down where the collar and struggled to pull the head up, until *POP!*

The being finally had a face, complete with a bright white smile, big round eyes and pointed ears. The look of a magical teenage boy. In a shot behind him, a yellow flash appears on the back of his collar and a long black cape emerges from it, with a bright five pointed star in the center. The underside of it was a golden yellow and it shimmered with small white stars twinkling.

Asha was speechless at what was before her.

Once his transform was complete, he immediately fell to the floor, and the music abruptly stops. With a thud, the glow faded away on the grass. "Ow." He said flatly. He got up by grabbing onto the well, pulling himself up. Once he got himself together, he took a look at his shiny reflection in the water.

"Ohohoho! It worked! I'm human! Well, kind of human, but its close enough! Hahaha!" the glowing boy exclaimed as he looked at his hands and outfit. He couldn't be happier as his voice is full of excitement. Then he looks up and realizes he's surrounded by trees and small houses. He starts turning around to see everything around him.

(Author's note: Star is voiced by Jeremy Jordan in this version, but you're free to imagine another voice if you like.)

"Look at all this! I can't believe I'm actually on-" his gaze stopped on Asha, who's been standing there in shocked silence since he came down.

Like lightning, he zipped from the well to about a couple inches from Asha's face, grinning from ear to ear. This made Asha a bit jumpy. "Hiiiiii!" 😁 the glowing boy greeted her in a friendly tone.

(Thank you to @ishadow246 for this awesome fanart, you captured the moment perfectly before I even wrote it!)

Asha nervously chuckled and quietly stepped behind, away from the boy's view. The star slowly turned his head around to face her again. "Hi again!" he replied, still smiling and gave a tiny wave.

Asha sort of waved back. "H-hi. What is even happening right now?"

The star grabbed Asha's hands in his and raises them in the air. (Asha is so confused right now. 😂)

"Wow, my first human up close! and I got lucky enough to get a beautiful one too! Hehe!"

Asha's eyes widened. "W-wait, are you talking about....me?"

(Star looks up, but before he can answer, an angry loud bleat interrupts)

"BAAAA! BAAAA! BAAAAA!"

(Both of them look down and see Valentino headbutting Star's leg a few times to make him go away. When that doesn't work, he starts growling as he's biting on the star's leg)

"VALENTINO! STOP THAT, RIGHT NOW! You don't where he's been!" Asha panicked.

The Star blinked, then laughed. "Aw! He's giving me love bites!" 😁

Valentino looks at him like he's an idiot.

Asha quickly backs away from Star. "Okay, okay, okay. Let's back up a minute. Who, or what even are you?"

"Don't you remember? You called to me here!" The star gestured to himself.

Asha's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you even talking about?" She questioned, frustrated.

"Just a moment ago you called on me up on that tree for help, I don't know with what exactly, but you sounded like you really needed it. I could feel it!" He pointed to the sky above the Wishing Tree.

The girl then realized that the star she was looking at earlier was no longer there. "Wait, are you saying that....you're....the....?" she hesitated. Though in the back of her mind, she knew the truth. The wind started to pick up as some animals began peeking out of the woods to peek at the glowing figure.

The star nodded enthusiastically. "That's right, I'm a star!" he raised his arms as if he was onstage and bright golden stardust began to swirl around the two of them, making constellations. "And I'm here to help!" He replied with a wink.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

FINAL THOUGHTS

Aaaaand that wraps up chapter 3! Yeah, it was WAY longer than I expected, but I really wanted give you'd guys something worth the wait. Plus, I want have my own animation company one day, so I write out all my future stories like they're movies waiting to be adapted. And it's the last test chapter, so I'll put up a poll to see if you want to read more of my rewrite! So for now, I'll be taking a break to work on the art, other stories my writing and to continue reading some other people's versions of Wish! Plus, ITS SO HOT WHERE I AM. Its hard to concentrate on writing in the heat, so its good timing.

Big thanks again to my bestie, @signed-sapphire, for helping with the song, cause it needed heavy changes! I wanted it to show that's Asha's reached her breaking point and wants to take Sabino's words into action. Its time to stop Magnifico. (Plus, I'm still building up the villains there, Mags has a reason (well, of them, after the clip above) he wants a star, you'll see later on. The idea is that they're more like a combination of Hades and Yzma in front of Rosas, where they're big glory hogs, love the spotlight and sort of act like big shot TV hosts to advertise making Rosas look fun to stay in. Only behind close doors does their other more cruel side appears. (Plus I'm creating a scene where they literally create their own version of a commercial starring themselves about how great their kingdom is, like how Hades advertised the underworld as a five star hotel)

Also, WE GET TO MEET STAR IN THIS!!! Since Canon!Star's appearance was.....underwhelming, I wanted Wish Granted!Star to make a big entrance! Also, a few of the actual lines left in the film ate just so questionable with the changes. Asha says she felt Star's light was full of joy, wonder, hope and LOVE. And they expected me to believe that DIDN'T sound romantic? That Starboy wasn't head over heels in love as he came to Earth? That that's more likely the REAL reason he came down instead of freaking stardust BS!?

Anyway, he's sort of referencing all those classic Disney transformations, but the twist is instead of it being graceful, he just does it all cartoony and then face plants. 😂 Plus I wanted his body language and style to represent the old classic Disney shorts, where they're very animated and smooth in their movements. I loved the idea of him being a combination of Mickey and Walt from the concept, so I did my best with that.

As for Asha, I wanted her to have more layers. She's pessimistic because one of the most inspiring and positive people in her life was taken away (she'll find out how later) and she's close to losing another one. (And since Disney started sketching at 9, I applied the same idea that she started to write and draw at the same age.) So in comes Star, who comes down full of that joy (and love) she's been missing for years, and he helps her find her joy, wonder and positivity she once lost as a kid.

Hope you all enjoyed this, and I'll start outlining Chapter 4 in case people want to see it continue. And I have to change "I'm a Star" Because many of these lyrics are a crime against music. (HERE I ARE!? WTF!?) And I'll me putting up an ask box later this week too, to answer any questions you have about Wish Granted!

Thanks for reading!

@annymation @signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @kenihewa

@emptyblog7 @spectator-zee @tumblingdownthefoxden @your-ne1ghbor

@mythartist21 @chillwildwave @emillyverse @uva124

@flicklikesstuff @lazytitans-world @hopeyarts

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