#and they’re in a MUCH different position now than they were when she was first captured | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

usedpidemo · 9 months

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Parasailing (Kim Minju & Jo Yuri)

> You're lonely and feel sad because your favorite idols are gone and never upload any pictures in their Instagram. You're really missing them because Minju and Yuri are your favorite underrated ship in Izone. When you decided to drinking alone in tent bar you recognize Minju and Yuri are there having their good time. You're so shy to be at the same place with them and stealing glances. Until you realized that you're drinking with them and told them how you miss them. Because of too much drinking alcohol and being bratty Yuri, she flirt with you and shy Minju try to stop her and after that they are in your place with Yuri kissing you and Minju watching it. being shy but enjoy it. And you fuck bratty Yuri and shy Minju. After that you're kissing their forehead and tell them that your so lucky to be with them and tell them that they are so loveable - @quietfallendemon

—————

There is no other way to put it: you’ve hit rock bottom. You’re down horrendous. It’s a sorry state your family or friends can drag you out of, no matter how hard they try—and that’s if you still have any friends left. In the eyes of randoms, they see a zombie, a soulless husk of a man—one who used to be brimming with life, with nothing but anguish and despair filling his soul now. Each passerby looks on with one of two expressions: concern and pity or apathy and indifference. Some with a little disgust. They’ve got lives to live, obligations to attend to, and some divine purpose given by higher powers to fulfill. So do you, but there’s a difference: you’ve lost the will to live.

Barely functioning, everyday life has turned into a nightmarish hell. Days, then weeks, and eventually months, fly by in a loop. You slog through your office job, receive income, then you carelessly splurge on lavish drinking bursts afterward. Your liver absolutely despises your guts by now. Night after night, you drink away the ceaseless pain hurting your heart more than the alcohol you consume. It’s become too numbing at this point. The morning after, you don’t bother cleaning up the mess you unknowingly made from the day before, especially when you throw up on the floors of your apartment rather than on your toilet.

So it goes. Not a single day passes by without digging your grave a little deeper with your alcohol addiction, but Fridays were particularly special. It’s when you decide that your place shouldn’t bear the brunt of your rampant alcoholism for one day. Instead, after another monotonous shift, you head to your favorite place—your other place of solitude—a tent bar that treats you like their best friend, mainly because you’re their most loyal customer, but otherwise, you enjoy the fresh air, grilled food, and the patrons’ attempts to sing their hearts out—with hilarious results.

Of course, the drinks were also part of the experience. You usually end up passing out quicker compared to every other day.

You’re partially through your first drink when two particularly mesmerizing girls walk in holding hands. Tipsy or not, their beauty immediately captures your attention. Even dressed in all black, they’re shining, like angels descended from heaven to grace this cursed earth, sent to remind people of their higher purpose and walk in them.

Gradually, you’re staring, drooling. Your brain’s in complete shambles, unable to comprehend how divine creatures like them casually walk among mere mortals, partaking in lowly, sinful activities like drinking and hanging out at bars. They take their seats across your table; a perfect position to hold your attention in permanent captivity, without any obstruction.

A waiter approaches the two women, and he should’ve been a distraction, but instead, it becomes a showcase. The girl in the black dress, seated on the left, shoots these playful, childish stares at the waiter, basically flirting with the guy while she stating her order. Her partner is much more reserved, sharing hers in an orderly manner before they’re left to talk with themselves again. The older girl slaps her friend’s shoulder, as if correcting her, which the younger woman simply brushes off with a laugh. From just one interaction, you’re hooked. You had to have her. This night won’t end without their names etched in your head, and if you’re lucky, their number, maybe even more.

Another waiter arrives at your table, bottle in hand, asking if you want a refill, which you absentmindedly decline. You’re drinking in the sight of the two girls, even as they do casual activities while waiting. They’re exchanging conversations, hiding suppressed giggles, but it doesn’t mute the younger woman’s boisterous laughter. It should be a nuisance, but it isn’t; it’s a treat to watch her cheeky, bright personality. Even her friend, whose disposition is a complete contrast, has some charm to her reserved nature, and they bounce off each other seamlessly.

In the midst of this space between you and the girls, someone else is singing karaoke, much to the girls’ amusement. That’s their source of laughter, the very grating voice of that poor soul. Even the older girl’s starting to lighten up, despite repeatedly tapping her friend’s shoulder while she laughs along. Their waiter arrives with their drinks, and they immediately down two glasses each in rapid succession. You’re not even halfway through your first.

“Hey, you think I should try to sing and make these losers second guess about performing next time?” asks the younger girl, staring at the next patron performing on stage.

“Please don’t.” The older woman replies, face flushed bright red from embarrassment. “We shouldn’t make a scene here—”

“C’mon, no one cares. Why are you such a killjoy, Minmin?” she retorts, making a cute pout. Minmin’s dismay is your enjoyment.

“I know you want to sing so bad, Yul. Believe me, you’ll be back on stage soon, but you just have to be patient—”

“Says the loser who hasn’t gotten an acting job, actress!”

You’re amazed Minmin hasn’t tried to physically restrain her—at least, not yet. Instead, she’s dragged along by Yul to the stage so they can perform. The older woman reluctantly follows without any resistance, simply grabbing the mics without any fanfare, not even announcing who they are or what they’ll perform.

The music starts. The girls begin to sing. It’s after the first verse that the pieces begin to come together.

Somehow, this girl, Yul, with her childish attitude, flirty face, and sharp tongue, has the most soulful voice you’ve heard in a very long time. She looks effortless; she runs through each part with minimal strain and her expressions convey the emotion of the ballad very well. Minmin isn’t far off either, but her vocal does not hold a candle to Yul’s. If they were bar singers, you’d be cursing at the earth giving these two unfortunate circumstances, because such talent shouldn’t be constrained to the confines of an open bar. These two are truly angels.

When the song ends, Yul reverts to her mischievous persona, shooting winks and flying kisses at the audience as she walks off the stage, followed by her best friend, shyly bowing at every turn. After returning to their seats, the younger woman’s wearing this prideful, triumphant expression on her lips, basking in the glory, eager to gloat. Minmin’s nervously smiling, still gently bowing at everyone while cutely gesturing with her hands in a plea to make everyone stop.

Then it’s business as usual at the tent bar again. Copious drinking, out of pitch singing, and you mindlessly staring at the girls that it’s outright criminal.

Until the thought finally hits.

“Yul…Minmin…Yuri…Minju,” you silently mouth. Your eyes suddenly widen, and the realization finally dawns on you.

At first, it was a complete coincidence. They looked too similar to be truly them, that it’s a convincing impersonation or face job at best. The real evidence was in their vocals. They sounded too similar, close to a near-perfect impression. You’ve never heard such divine singing in a very long time, and now it's clear why.

Jo Yuri and Kim Minju performed for you.

The day they disappeared just so happened to be the same day your life began to fall apart. While they’re out here living their best lives and enjoying their down time, you were at your lowest, your breaking point. Some part of you understands they bear no blame; it’s fate, an inevitability of any temporary group. Yet, no matter how much you prepared for the end, you couldn’t endure the loss. The other members have successfully transitioned to their new careers, whether it be in new groups or even solo, but those two—Minju and Yuri— essentially went off the radar. They barely posted on Instagram, so you couldn’t even keep up with them on a consistent basis like their former members. Their last shared photos were eight months ago. Minimal social media messages, even fewer magazine shoots or advertisements, and no music, movie, or show to get excited about.

To see them together again not only brings nostalgia, but also revives your sense of purpose again.

Every girl in that group was special, but in your eyes, Minju and Yuri were different. Yuri had her standout vocals, Minju with her divine beauty, but you loved them beyond those traits; you loved everything about them. You promised you’d support their endeavors after disbandment, but so far, there was nothing to support. Their absence from the spotlight hurt you more than it hurt them. The worst part is the realization that you’ll likely never see them after tonight, that you can’t do anything to convince them to further their careers—to do something. After all, you wanted them both to thrive like their other members.

Of course, you can’t approach them casually. You’ll probably melt into a puddle mere steps away. So you whip out your phone and take rapid-fire photos. It’s dangerous, but fuck it, this is a once in a lifetime scene. They’re preoccupied with their drinks and conversation to notice your camera. You gather a gallery that will sustain you for months, even if they disappear from the public eye again. At first, you’re delighted, overjoyed even, but the immediate realization clouds your mood.

You sigh. You put your phone down, staring at the twosome once again, but this time, with a yearning desire. They’re within your grasp. Uncertain of the future, you slowly reach out with your hand, imagining a scenario where you pour your heart out to them—how you missed them so badly, how much their disappearance has affected you, and how you’ll wait for them till eternity, even if realistically, you’ll break long before that no matter how long it takes for them to make a song, be in a movie or show, anything. Sure, this all sounds ridiculous, alarmingly disturbing, and should be shared with a therapist instead of two celebrities, but to you, no one would understand more than Minju and Yuri can.

When you draw your hand back, Minju’s eyes are locked right at yours. She’s gently smiling and waving back. Yuri notices her gesture, recognizes you, and waves along with greater energy. The younger idol giggles at you. She catches you in a moment of weakness, cheeks puffed up and tensely flushed. The two girls exchange a brief glance, Yuri’s eyes alight with a new opportunity to cause more mischief, smirking at her, essentially screaming that no one, not even Minju, can stop her.

Yuri cocks her head to the side, shoots you a wink, a flying kiss, sticks out her tongue; she flirts with a tinge of both cuteness and sexiness that heightens her attraction—and awakens a bit of your lust. Minju facepalms, awkwardly chuckling, wanting no part in this act. You’re left frozen, in awe at how unabashedly coy she is. She was the resident brat, but now she’s taken her friskiness to a whole new level. Proving your point, she pulls the strap of her dress down, teasing, expression mocking, quietly mouthing, “I know you want it.” Just as shocked as you, her friend’s eyes widen, her hand covering her mouth before tapping Yuri’s shoulder, telling her to stop. Surprisingly, she complies obediently, pulls her thin strap back up.

Hopefully, no one else besides you saw that.

Averting their gaze for a moment, you take a moment to let the small interaction sink in. You got more than you bargained for: a serenade, a gallery’s worth of photos, and flirty fanservice from your favorite idols. Perhaps this is what you needed to finally bring yourself out of your self-inflicted funk and back to normalcy. Maybe this is what you really need all along: closure. They won’t be in your life moving forward, but your fond memories of them are always there to look back on, and you’re grateful for the joy they provided you during those difficult times.

When you look back up, Minju and Yuri have disappeared from the table across yours; they’re directly seated right in front of you. They’re carefully watching your every move, Yuri’s expression brazen as ever, constantly searching for opportunities to pick you apart, and Minju, her enabler, despite the light admonitions and warnings, shyly following her junior’s eyes. All it takes is one turn before it spirals into a car crash of disastrous proportions.

Thankfully, you’re not the one to break the ice. “Sup,” says Yuri, casually feigning innocence. Your lips move in the shape of hello, but only air comes out. They’ve seen this reaction from fans hundreds of times.

“Hello,” adds Minju, sweetly smiling, as pure as her brightly lit face. “Did you enjoy our little performance?”

It takes a minute—maybe four—before an answer forms in your head. You’ve seen them from afar, you’ve seen them up close, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine them talking to you on an intimate level. They’re patient, softly giggling over how overwhelmed and speechless you are to respond back. Anyone else in that space would react the same way; you don’t need to move your neck around to feel the jealousy from your fellow patrons. You’re not only carrying your own burdens, but the expectations of others.

“Yeah.” The word comes out natural, without second thought, while your thoughts are focused on them and them alone. Fuck, their skin looks flawless, is your sole noteworthy observation. Even if you had the full capacity to think coherently, you’d end up with this exact same answer.

“We missed performing on stage, so we felt that it would be nice to go up and—” Minju pauses, repeatedly turning to her friend, silently observing you, trying her best to look diplomatic. “Sing a little bit. We were a little nervous, but I’m glad you liked it.”

“Well, why haven’t you done that?” you ask, the nervous smile on your features gradually shifting to a frown.

“Done what?”

Leaning forward, the stare you shoot is sharp, cold. “You haven’t been on Instagram in months. Both of you. The other members have been on TV, they’ve been releasing music, they’ve been doing photoshoots, they’re in commercials. They’re being successful, but you—” You pause, aware of your surroundings, trying your hardest not to make a scene. “Where the hell have you been?”

Both girls’ reactions split down the middle as your temper flares ever slightly. Yuri leans back into her chair, turns to her friend, surprised by the sudden shift in tone, anxious of what happens now. Minju remains calm, gently rubs her hand on hers, reassuring her.

She takes a moment to formulate a response. “It’s been harder than we thought.”

“How come?”

Another pause. Minju sighs pondering the thought. “You have no idea how much we want to perform, you know. Believe us. We really tried. I’ve auditioned for a few big name projects, got a few scripts from some web dramas. They were glorified cameos at best. You don’t know how painful it is to see the news that someone else got the role in those big projects—”

Yuri nods in agreement, equally as dejected. She adds, “They promised me I’d debut soon. They never specified exactly when. They have this boy group I’ve written songs for, they debuted and made two comebacks already with another one lined up in a few months. I’ve written and recorded so many songs that I absolutely want to perform. Waiting this long, I—”

Yuri pauses, then sighs. Her eyes are glassy.

“I don’t even know if I want to do this anymore.”

The revelation pierces through your heart like an arrow. It’s heartbreaking. Unbelievable, hearing it directly from their mouths. You simply cannot believe they’re struggling when everyone else has been able to successfully continue their careers. Even shittier agencies recognize the treasure they have and at least try to make something happen, but this is completely absurd. It sounds too painful to be true.

Only one word can perfectly describe it. “How?”

“We honestly don’t know.” Minju replies, solemn, downtrodden, defeated. “We might just give up, honestly. Our management won’t do anything to help us. Maybe our time in the spotlight is just meant to be short-lived.”

You remember the rumblings from a while back, how Minju was scouted and offered a seven-figure deal to join her other members in Le sserafim. She declined. In retrospect, she could have saved her career and two months’ worth of migraines with what eventually became a disastrous debut. Fuck, even the thought of seeing her with Sakura and Chaewon together in that alternate reality sparks your imagintion.

“You should have taken that deal, Minju. You really should have.” You put it to her straight, almost mocking, very damning, as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

She sighs through the thought, completely despondent. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The mood is cold, grim. Alcohol releases your most intrusive thoughts, no matter how harsh or intimate they sound. That isn’t to say you don’t regret them; you’ll ponder the consequences in the morning, as usual. At the very least, you find common ground with your two favorite idols, drinking it up through life’s challenges as a coping mechanism.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly blurt. “I—I just really miss you both on screen.”

“It’s all right,” adds Minju, trying to form a smile through the pain. Seeing the vulnerability in her eyes makes the gesture even more heartbreaking. “I’m just glad you’re still waiting for us. That anyone still wants us.”

“God, you can’t imagine the jealousy I feel whenever I see the others nowadays and immediately wonder what are you doing. I mean, I don’t hate them, I just—”

“Oh, I understand that feeling very well,” Minju replies, her grin slowly widening, suppressing a chuckle. Yuri takes the bottle on your side to pour a drink on your cup, which she also steals. “We still keep contact and they’re also asking what the fuck are we even doing.”

“Look on the bright side, they don't have time to have fun these days, am I right?” Yuri interrupts, followed by boisterous laughter from her. Minju tries, but gloom gets in the way. You try to laugh, but it hurts to laugh right now, among a multitude of other feelings, particularly, pain, despair, and regret.

“Well, it’s not been fun for me ever since you’ve been gone,” you say.

You slip your phone concealed behind your hand, slide it across the table. The two women smile at what’s on screen; it’s memories from their past. It’s a treasure trove of funny, embarrassing, and endearing captures that border on obsession. If they didn’t know any better, you’d certainly be under a restraining order after seeing the bogus gallery saved on your phone.

“Damn, we looked quite cute,” says Yuri, scrolling between pictures. Their heads inch a little closer, while their free fingers trace around each other’s edges.

“Yeah.” Minju lightly nods. “I’m glad we still have each other, even now.”

The older woman slides the phone back to you. Two pairs of eyes gaze at you, both with piqued interest, but Yuri’s eyes widen, with much bigger intentions in mind.

“We really appreciate that you’re still waiting for us,” adds Minju, humble in tone and demeanor as ever. “Just give us your order tonight. It’s all on us.”

You’re briefly taken aback. Even with your sorry state, you feel as if you don’t deserve to be rewarded. Panickedly, you shake your head, “No—no—please don’t. It’s all right, I’ll pay for my own—”

“We insist; please let us take care of you tonight,” Minju interjects. Yuri glances at her, intrigued by her answer, as a new idea dawns upon her.

“Yeah, you should listen to her,” the younger girl adds, returning her gaze at you with a smirk. “Let us handle it.”

That was your first mistake.

—————

Actually, the first mistake was focusing on them to begin with, and the second was allowing them to close the space in your heart.

Yuri leads the way back to your apartment and is the first one in; that’s when you realize the mess you’ve gotten yourself in—both literally and figuratively. Empty food packs and spilled beer bottles make up most of the litter that fills every room in your once decent flat. It makes you look even worse than you already are. Mentally you’re apologizing, growing more flustered as your two uninvited guests explore your place. Minju’s been reserved the entire time that the expression she makes is nearly indistinguishable, even though her mouth gradually slacks seeing the shitshow you’ve been living in for a while.

“Your place is really cute!” Yuri knocks off some of the mess on the living room table before hopping on the desk, completely disregarding the wet puddle that now stains her black dress.

Minju’s mouth opens, but not a single word is uttered. It’s no longer her problem.

It’s yours.

“I hope you don’t mind us hanging out for a bit,” she says, and you’re not opposed to the notion in the slightest. Anything to liven up your place.

You and Minju leave Yuri by herself on the desk—for now. From across the table is the only piece in the apartment left untouched. Dusty, but unsullied. It’s a shelf filled with merch, albums, and group pictures.

“You took this?” She reaches her hand out to a particular photo, a framed picture of her and Yuri doing fanservice during one of their concerts. You quietly nod.

She smiles wider at the shot. “Would you like me to sign it?”

As you’re about to reply, Yuri swoops in between you both, tired of being ignored for at least five minutes.

“Hey! What are you doing—” she notices the framed picture, disrupting her train of thought. “Ooh! I remember this! We look cute here, Minmin!” Without any consideration, the younger girl snatches the framed photo from her friend.

“Can we keep this?”

“No.” Minju tries to take the photo back, but Minju brushes her away. “That’s his photo, you can’t just—”

“I’ll buy it for lots of money!”

“Stop! No amount of money can buy the sentimental value it has. Just give it back.”

“But money can’t buy this pussy though.” Yuri lifts the bottom of her dress, teasing her panties. Minju immediately pushes it back down.

“Yuri!”

“What?” Yuri asks, lips pouting, tone innocent, as if unaware of the stunt she just pulled off. “You know how horny these fanboys are.” Turning to you, she reaches the photo out for you to reclaim. “Your choice.”

There’s no resistance when you take the photo back and return it from the shelf. Yuri’s hands are itching to grab at her dress again, as if daring you to prove her point. Minju’s on edge, on the cusp of bailing, ready to take her friend with her before this messy situation leads to something worse. It’s a little tense, the mood a little suffocating, and none of you are able to make the best judgment calls.

“Sorry,” mutters Minju, now holding her friend’s hand. “I’m really sorry about that. We should leave—”

“No you’re not—” Yuri blurts out, before Minju places her other hand on her mouth, visibly irate by her malicious behavior.

“It’s all good,” you mumble, still fixated on the very notion that they’re in your apartment. One way or another, you want them to stay a little longer. And then you make your next mistake. “I mean, in all honesty, it’s about time I should get rid of these. Like I said before, I haven’t been able to move on, but you two are getting by just fine.”

“Right.” Minju’s gaze is sympathetic, enchanting, endearing—everything that reminds you of simpler times. The thought dawned on you at times, when you really considered burning it all—no, not even considering selling it to more sensible people—but actually burning the bridge connecting you and them. Though you say you want to move on, you understood it would haunt you for the rest of your life if you actually followed through with such an impulsive decision. “But you shouldn’t.”

Yuri pushes Minju’s hand off her. “I think you just need a little pussy. It’s not that deep.”

“Yuri!” Minju faces her with an even more annoyed glare.

“Maybe you’re right,” you blurt, capturing the girls’ attention. “I’m not free of sin, I do think you’re hot. Both of you.”

“Told you.” Yuri gloats, shaking her other hand free of Minju’s grip. She then approaches you, caresses your shoulders up to your cheek, lightly brushing the sides of your hair. “Tell me: am I the most fuckable member of the group?”

Knowing that Yuri has won, Minju stops trying to intervene. Admittedly, it was, in fact, Minju you thought was the most fuckable, and that’s no easy feat in such a stacked group, but to appease her, you nod.

“Come here,” murmurs Yuri, her fingertips rubbing around your chin as she drags you down for a sinful, deep kiss. Your fingers thread on her dress, the very same one she threatened to pull, now in your possession to grip. Her leg wraps around your hip as she pulls you closer, yearning for more of you, at the expense of your balance. It’s all falling into place, close to falling apart.

Then she says the two words that ultimately end you.

“Fuck me.”

And that’s when everything breaks.

You both end up in your bedroom, pushing Yuri onto the mattress, then hastily ridding yourself of your clothes: tie, coat, and shirt in that order. She kicks off her heels, smirking, tongue sticking out—teasing you with glimpses of her legs, panties, and pussy as you struggle to push down your pants. I know you want it, she mouths, and you’re inadvertently nodding in agreement. From the onset, you knew her dress wouldn’t come off on its own; she’s challenging you to rip it off her body, which you had every intention to do.

Your pants are still halfway down your legs when you join her in bed, completely removed after you shake the now useless heap off your feet. Yuri pulls you while you’re still approaching her for another passionate kiss. She recognizes your desire to undress her just as quickly, too. From lips to lips, she lightly brushes you down, your lips landing on her chin, neck, and collarbones. Your hand tries to grab a piece of her clothing; she parries your every attempt at her dress.

“You won’t make this easy, will you?” you say, aware of her daunting challenge but worked up regardless.

“Of course,” replies Yuri, visibly smug, getting amusement from riling people up. She rolls to the side and wraps her arms around your waist in a tight embrace. Kissing your forehead, she adds, “Show me how bad you wanna fuck me.”

It’s the right combination of seductive words, tone, and taunting demeanor that causes you to wrestle control over her. Reciprocating her kiss to your forehead, you return the favor, whisper an equally filthy reply that makes her squirm with excitement. “I’m gonna fuck this pussy so hard. Gonna fucking wreck you.”

“Try me.”

You slip both straps of her dress down her arms, enough to reveal her round, perky breasts without any cleavage. Without any further hesitation you keep going; nose, lips, neck, down to her chest—you leave a sloppy trail of bite marks, not even kisses in your wake. Yuri shuts her eyes, whines, folds like a deck with your arousing touch. Her body’s feeding your aching, hungry soul better than any meal ever could.

If it were up to you, and if it was in your capacity, the rest of her garment would be ripped in half through your teeth. Instead, they’re bunched up halfway around her waist, with the bottom half pushed up with your hand as you take hold of her panties. Digging your fingers between them, she winces, groans sympathetically, as your thumb presses on her folds, twisting her legs between yours uncomfortably. A single touch informs you that she’s wet at her core, aching, throbbing. She told you it wouldn’t be this easy; you’ll make sure it stays that way.

“Goddamn, Yuri. This wet already and I’m barely getting down with what I wanna do with you,” you mumble, your thumb lightly nudging against her folds. She’s trembling, breathing rapidly, fingers now gripped on the edge of your sheets, unable to keep still, her lips forming incoherent babbles. Add your other hand in the equation, take a handful of her chest, palm it around your grip for you to play with. It doesn’t do much that already overwhelms her senses, but her flesh is so squeezable, so malleable, so delicate to grasp, it becomes almost impossible to let go.

You dig your fingers around Yuri’s clit, her hips slowly grinding in tandem with your efforts to pleasure her. Her thighs involuntarily spread, providing more space for your fingers to be swallowed up by the tightness of her folds. With each pump and withdrawal, your digits are coated in copious amounts of slick. The sensations in her aching core pull your hand in like a magnet, allowing you to indulge in the erotic sight of Yuri quaking, screaming, tossing her head back beneath you.

“Yes, yes, yes—keep going—fuck—” Yuri makes her blissful cries loud and clear, enough for your neighbors to hear, way past any subtlety. Maintaining a steady rhythm fingering the mewling woman, you move your other hand back and forth between her shapely breasts, squeezing and kneading them, your eyes inching closer with each ripple, bounce, and jiggle. Something about the way she melts with every move you make on her slowly drives you wild, your mind racing with countless sinful desires you’ve been quietly suppressing ever since you first laid your eyes on them.

If not for how addicting it is to feel her soft flesh in your hand, it’d be hardening your cock right now. Doesn’t matter; you’ve been slowly gliding your legs, positioning yourself directly atop her, your bulge aching against her thighs, yearning for her skin. Can’t grow too comfortable, even as she squirms, yelps, writhes beneath your grasp. She adjusts, becomes acclimated to your fingers as it draws more slick, airily begging for more. Even before she considers the thought, you’re one step ahead of her, quickening your pace, generating a sloppy, satisfying sound while she leaks on your sheets.

You’re losing it, reveling in this newfound power you have over Yuri, that her orgasmic screams of pain and pleasure go overlooked. It isn’t clear whether she wants you to keep going or to stop. Your fingers never relent, even while she makes a quivering mess of your bedsheets and wetting your thigh and boxers. Eventually, you withdraw your digits from her torrentially drenched cunt. Another sticky waterfall drips on already inundated sheets. She can’t stop cumming. She doesn’t want to stop, body willing.

Yuri tosses her legs around, weak legs still violently trembling from her orgasm. The room returns to its usually quiet setting—except the gentle sound of sloppy flesh lingers. A bit quieter, more subdued, but your ears recognize a familiar sound.

Oh, right.

Somehow, you completely overlooked Minju’s presence. While you were focused on pleasuring Yuri, she had quietly leaned against the bedroom door, one of her hands following yours to that same pleasurable spot, watching with glazed eyes, enjoying the sight of her friend getting her rightful punishment. An unforgivable offense, but anyone else in your position would have done the same thing, especially when a half naked Yuri’s offering herself up on your bed.

“I was expecting you to go all the way,” she drawls, breathing heavily between words. She doesn’t care that your eyes are looking down, following her hand deep between her underwear hypnotically. “I hate to say it, but I was feeling a little jealous of her.”

Without a word, you quickly slide down her already unzipped jeans, her panties to follow. Holding her active hand, you draw it away from her core, your eyes intertwined in a passionate gaze. Time slows to a crawl. Your lips inches apart from sparking another fire. The whole time you’ve known her, she’s been quiet, reserved, nervous to make a move—that she’d ask you seven times before finally going for whatever move she wants to make.

She pulls you for a deep kiss, her other hand tugging down your wet boxers. Pressing your weight against hers, she strokes your hard cock, rubs it against her aching core, moans seductively in your ear. You’re biting down on her neck, collarbones, anything that marks her, tells the world you fucked her. Your hands latch onto her hourglass shaped waist, lightly pushing her on the bedroom door, lightly taking her off the ground without any grace, her skin another addiction to ruin your life.

Kissing down her clothed chest, you make quick work of her off-shoulder shirt before you dive back into her perfect body. Minju whimpers and whines,her nails digging into your back as you peck your way toward her core. She feels so right in your grasp; her ridiculous proportions, her slender legs, her unreal navel that warrants a prolonged kiss—everything about Kim Minju’s body was meant to be worshiped. She brings you to your knees, down to your lowest. It was easy to ruin Yuri, but this is something far beyond your level.

How do you deserve something like this?

Looking between her spread legs, you contemplate the thought. Minju’s achingly wet, just like her younger friend. She regains a little composure and realizes you’re on your knees, frozen in place. The graceful and patient woman she is, she gently caresses your cheek, forcing you to meet her gentle gaze. “Take me. Even just for tonight, I’m yours.”

Her lips draw yours like a magnet. Minju breaks eye contact at the first touch, moaning as your tongue familiarizes itself with her deliciously soft folds. Her head repeatedly thumps against the door with a thud, Digging your hands on her thighs, you’ve got Minju exactly where you want her to be: wrapped around your head in a suffocating lock. It doesn’t matter that your words come out as corrupted babble; your tongue is doing all the talking, and it loves her pussy.

“That’s it, that feels so good.” She rubs her hands on your hair, gradually shifting into a grip of the back of your skull as you acclimate to her velvety walls. “Doesn’t fucking me feel better than Yuri does?”

You’ll make your final comparison when you’re done with them both. For now, you’re focused on devouring Minju’s cunt, or dying by thigh asphyxiation—whichever comes first. Her approving moans encourage you, as if you needed any further motivation, and even if you lacked the desire, which is a completely absurd thought, her legs are there to make sure you drink up till she has nothing left.

Her juices taste so sweet, so divine, that even if your tongue dries up, you'd still be relentlessly eating her out. Soon enough, your tongue digs through every sensitive nerve and spot, setting every nerve in Minju’s body on fire. Little by little, you’re chipping away at her dainty facade. Her volume and pitch rises and rises; her grip on your hair and face tightens further. She’s exactly like her friend: a screaming mess that loves getting fucked.

There’s no tempo, no constant pace in the manner you take Minju—only a need to devour. Her patience knows only one thing too: the reward of an inevitable climax. She’s slowly grinding her hips against your face, pulling you further into her wrecked folds. It’s too fast and too sudden; you’re amazed at how she’s this alarmingly drenched—

“Fuck!”

Minju cries out, pulling you harshly by the hair, turning your face into a canvas of sticky nectar. From your vantage point, her eyes are slammed shut, mouth agape, stuck in suspended animation while her body violently trembles, even shaking your foundations. She’s completely lost in the high of her release, basking in the powerful sensations washing over her. As the lewd scene plays out, your tongue eagerly gathers up her juices. It overflows, drips down your chest and spills all over the floor even when you carry her to bed, flippantly tossing her beside her freshly fucked friend.

You take a breather to taste them both at once. Euphoric.

—————

The sight in front of you is enough to make you cum. Your two favorite members splayed on your bed, at their barest, in a state of coming undone because of your handiwork. And you still haven’t put your dick inside either of them. Deciding which one to slide your cock in first is a life or death decision. You’ll make your choice after you flip them on their backs.

You’re stroking your cock as you join the two girls on the bed, your other hand caressing Minju and Yuri’s skin back and forth, grabbing a pair of handfuls of ass. Time is a nonfactor; you’ve got all night to do every fantasy you’ve imagined with them, yet they’re still reeling from their initial orgasms, taking longer to recover.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” you whisper against Minju’s back, adding emphasis with each word, send a shiver all over her spine. Yuri feels every word too. “I dream about this exact scenario often. You, completely naked on your back, as I fuck you and cum all over this hot pussy from behind—” you follow, before you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her shoulder. It’s better than whatever dreams you’ve conjured up, because it’s real. You rub your cock against Minju’s folds, and it’s an immaculate sensation that not even your imagination can conjure up.

The tension hardly stretches for more than a few precious moments. Even without words, you understood they were impatient, and so were you. Deep in your gut, there’s a fear that if you wasted a little more time, this once in a lifetime opportunity will disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Fuck.” Minju’s pussy feels so incredibly tight, you never want to pull out from the uncertainties of tomorrow. It’s all the more intense when you draw yourself out, then thrust back in, watch as your cock enters and exits her cunt at a steady tempo. The bed gently rocks in harmony with your motion, moving like the ticks of a clock. The longer you fuck her, the longer the fantasy remains.

You grab her by the shoulder, by the waist, by her hair. Any part you haven’t marked red, you see red. Minju remains motionless, body lightly rippling, reduced to a groaning heap with each stroke. In this prone position, she’s nothing but a toy for your pleasures. You’re dominating her. You can tell she hasn’t taken dick this hard in a long time by her rising tone. You have plenty of filthy things to say, but you’ll let your hips do all the talking for you.

She feels so fucking good, so fucking hot.

It only seems appropriate that you almost lose yourself in Minju’s heat when suddenly, Yuri cries out for you. “Please.”

You don’t relent. Instead, by instinct, your pace quickens. Snaking your hand on her shoulder, you inch closer to Minju’s head, gently nibbling her ear. “God, Minju, you’re such a delightful fucktoy. So much easier to handle than your friend.”

Yuri’s hand reaches out to yours, and it snaps you from your lust-fueled haze. Her eyes sparkle under the dim light, cutely whimpering, “Fuck me please.”

Can’t hide the smirk on your face after she pleads. You face her, relentlessly pounding into Minju’s pussy, to prove a point. Assert control. You know she has no power over you. You’re threatening to undo yourself before she even gets a hint of mercy.

“I’m yours too,” says Yuri, looking penitent, even though in reality, this was her plan. “You said you were my favorite too, right? Please.”

Something about cutie Yuri tugs at your heartstrings. Cruel as you are, you’ve still got a soft spot. Maybe you fold this easily for cute girls like her. Maybe you’re not as assertive as you’ve projected yourself.

Your shadow hovers atop her. You have a hand gripped on her throat, your wet, hard cock lining against her slick folds. “Brat.”

There’s a subtle smile when you say the word. Her title. Her claim to fame. No matter how submissive she may act, deep down she’s a true brat and prides herself as one. A point made deeper when you impale her pussy with your cock. She screams—a sharp contrast to the subdued Minju. A way to make her point.

“Deeper! Harder! Fuck me hard!” Her voice comes out strained due to your palm firmly pressed on her neck. You lift her slightly upward, snake your suffocating hand down to her breast. Soft, pillowy flesh you squeeze, claim as yours. You’re crooning against her neck while adjusting to her equally hot tightness. Her pleasured-wracked face sticks a rebellious tongue out, darting in your direction as her hand frisks your torso. “You know deep down I’m a better fuck than her—fuck!”

She yelps, falls down to earth without grace. Her hands press on the sheets as you fuck her—ravage her pretty little cunt. No tempo, no slow burn, only raw, unadulterated pounding. Your palm tightly presses her tit, twists her face into even more lewd, unbearable pleasure. The words she has are lost, turned into deafening screams that echo throughout the room. “So! Fucking! Deep!”

It’s sinful, it’s hot, it’s perfect. You have her exactly where you want, propped on all fours as you mindlessly fuck her into submission, hands roaming her chest, her waist, her ass, lips kissing her shoulders and neck. She’s reduced to nothing but a high pitched mess; God, you’re sure everyone knows you’ve got Jo Yuri in bed now. Oh well. You’ve got a story to tell over coffee break on Monday.

It’s only when you force yourself to stop—and this is no easy feat—that she quiets down. Your cock is upset; you’ve edged yourself inside their hot pussy twice now, you can’t keep yourself in limbo forever, among other possible implications. The thought of protection never really bubbled up until this point, but you’re so far gone, far past the point of no return.

You’ll play with fate a little more before leaving yourself in its unpredictable hands.

The tango goes back and forth; Minju then Yuri, in that order, a few minutes at a time, which stretches into hours. You’ve twisted them in positions you fantasized and beyond your imagination, fucking both former idols till your cock can no longer bear with you. So when you have to make that fateful decision, it’s merely an illusion. Even as they make their deepest pleas for you to claim what’s rightfully yours, you reject the notion and take your own path.

It only seems right that the share of warm load is spread over their toned stomachs. In the aftermath of your long overdue orgasm, you fall back and wonder if it was the right decision. Initially, their faces are shaken with disbelief, utterly shocked that for once, the fan never came inside either of them, before all three of you eventually succumbed to their soreness and exhaustion.

—————

By some miracle, you’re standing on your two feet, holding onto Minju’s shoulders as she turns on the shower. Running water gushes over all three of you as it flows down your bodies without moving with the intended purpose of cleaning yourselves up. The older woman tilts her head at an angle where your lips find solace in her collarbones, gently pecking her skin—not the rough, sloppy lovemaking you’d been doing for the past hour, but intimate, sentimental love. She eventually turns around to rub her hand across your entangled arm, sharing in your warmth. Yuri hugs you from behind, her arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling her head against your back like her favorite pillow. It’s your innermost desires at its most raw, fully realized.

You feel content. You feel grateful.

The same three words repeat in your mouth over and over, spaced between the occasional kiss to both idols, deeply imprinting how much they mean to you. “I love you. I love you.”

You barely scrub each other for over ten minutes before you leave the shower. The two girls crash back into your bed after a rushed effort to dry up, completely overlooking their wet hair. You quietly follow, putting yourself in the center as your two biases instinctively wrap an arm around you, the now quiet mood in the room a far cry from the loud mess it was when you first entered. The last image saved in your head is Yuri’s gentle smile, her finger reaching out to brush away a little strand of hair before you all eventually pass out from exhaustion.

You’ve never been in a better position to die happier.

—————

The morning after is the first after a long time that you don’t feel like complete shit.

The room reeks of sex—a smell that will permeate for a long, long time. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you’re in no rush to put on your typical office wear. Minju and Yuri are long gone, and so is any trace of their presence in your apartment, except the lingering scent of last night’s activities. Just like that, life goes on.

Mostly.

The day after, you’ve tidied up most of your apartment. By Monday, to the surprise of your employer, you start working past the usual 9-to-5. He makes a little comment about your sudden change of heart walking past your cubicle. “You’re usually the first one out.”

The snarky remark goes overlooked, mostly because you’re preoccupied with thoughts of Minju and Yuri, as usual. You drown yourself in monotonous officework with the purpose of collapsing once you go home. It works. You’d rather be anywhere but home or holding a bottle.

A week passes. Rumblings of your character development spread like wildfire around the workplace, but you pay no heed to it. Friday arrives, and it pains you to hear that you’re not allowed to work overtime hours because of their employee friendly policy. Your mates invite you for a night at some club downtown, but you decline. Some part of you clings to the little hope that they might be there tonight.

The place is mostly empty, save for a few early patrons. You’ve got all night and the weekend, but you didn’t have to wait very long.

As soon as you put your menu down, ready for dinner, the two women have taken seats right in front of you. No words necessary, only warm, easy smiles.

You smile back. “Is this going to be our thing now?”

Now armed with dangerously alluring blonde hair, Yuri briefly kisses you, followed by an inviting smirk shared with Minju that tells you everything you need to know. “We hope your weekend schedule is empty. We have so much in store for you.”

—————

(A/N: I really love fan x idol stories, so this particular one hits all the right notes for me. Apologies once again for taking too long, this was supposed to be done when Taxi dropped (great comeback, go stream!). It's amazing to see Yuri potentially hitting it big globally with her Squid Game 2 casting news, here's hoping Minjobless can find big roles in movies and dramas as well! She deserves it. Thank you for reading!)

(PS: College started up again and I'm drowning in intensive research and assignments, oof. Currently, the only day I have free time is Sunday, since I have school stuff six of the seven days of the week. Expect more lengthy gaps of this magnitude between fics. Additionally, the Pokémon DLC is coming out real soon, which definitely will occupy my spare time more. However, this will change sometime around mid-to-late September, so here's hoping I can get a few more fics out for you. Appreciate you as always <3)

#smut #kpop smut #jo yuri #kim minju #minju #yuri

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foreversandalways · 8 months

Text

unpopular synastry opinions

as someone who studies ancient hellenistic astrology and as someone who’s been genuinely enthused by astrology/synastry for a long time now.

- there is no perfect synastry. synastry is relative to the people involved; it informs us about a dynamic, but doesn’t in and of itself make a statement about the longevity, success, or even health of a relationship. you’re much better off asking a horary astrologer a specific outcome based questions about a certain relationship to get a definitive answer. a “successful” (using that word relatively, because what constitutes success differs greatly between people) relationship largely depends on two people and their karma. synastry just informs a dynamic.

- conjunctions are not positive aspects to have. ancient astrologers didn’t even consider the conjunction an aspect. it’s a blending of energy, and the “goodness” you get from it depends on the planets involved.

for example, moon conjunct mercury can be nice for telepathy but I’ve seen it play out where the moon person doesn’t let the mercury person get a word in where they’re talking.

if venus is conjunct mercury, that’s positive because venus is a benefic, not because the the conjunction itself is positive. even venus/mercury squares can make for a pleasant dynamic because VENUS as a planetary archetype promotes harmony no matter what aspect she’s in. conversely, venus conjunct saturn would be more difficult because Venus’s pleasantness is inextricably tied to Saturn’s cold, dry nature, which over time can weight her down. especially if the Saturn person is a night chart. which leads me to my next point.

- SECT MATTERS. whether one person is a day chart or a night chart matters tremendously. For people with day charts (you were born during the day, or your sun falls in houses 7-12 in the whole sign house system) your most positive planets are the sun, jupiter, and saturn. for people with night charts (you were born during the night, or your sun falls in houses 1-6 in the whole signs house system) the moon, venus, and mars are your most positive planets. mars is more troublesome in a day chart, saturn is less troublesome and more helpful. saturn is more troublesome in a night chart, mars is less troublesome and more productive.

venus conjunct saturn in the synastry where the saturn person is a night chart is going to be way more difficult than if it was a day chart. venus trine jupiter in a chart where the jupiter person is a day chart is going to be felt more positively than if they were a night chart.

- which leads me to my next point. i like venus/mars aspects waaay better when the two people are both night charts, because venus and mars are both part of the night sect. i find them hotter, there’s less bickering and more passion. yes, even the squares and oppositions. in fact i prefer them.

- a bunch of trines and sextiles in synastry are boring, and i’d even go as far as saying those are the real synastry red flags. oppositions and squares bring tension, but tension is a part of growth and life. tension sparks creativity. think about the sexual tension it takes for two people to have sex and create a child. think about how the moon cycle is brought to manifestation via squares and oppositions. we have our new moon (conjunction) first quarter moon (square) so on and so forth until we reach the full moon (opposition) where things come to fruition.

trines and sextiles are nice and do have their value and place, but they’re just that. nice. not dynamic. i barely felt it when pluto trined my sun, but when it squared my mars it spurred me to action for the better. souls need growth and that’s what the hard aspects provide.

- someone’s planet conjunct your angles isn’t necessarily good, just loud.

lemme say it again: SOMEONE’S PLANET CONJUNCTING YOUR ANGLES ISN’T NECESSARILY GOOD, JUST LOUD. that goes for the degrees of the AC, IC, DC, and MC. it can signify them being an important figure in your life, but important doesn’t always mean good, or lasting. just prominent. the angular houses (1, 4, 7, 10) are the anchors of the chart with the most important life themes, so planets here are LOUD, but loud doesn’t mean GOOD.

case in point: sophie turner and joe jonas. her venus sits right on his descendant. you’d think that would mean soulmate, true love, and it very well was for them at some point, but now it’s nasty divorce in the press (the descendant also being the place of opposition, and things seen in the public)

- synastry also isn’t static. what worked and was lovely one day could suffocate you tomorrow depending on your own souls growth. venus conjunct saturn can mean lovely stability and dependability between you two one day, and then three years later it means you feel like your partner gets colder and colder towards you, dampening your spark.

- saturn square venus in synastry does not work. spare yourself the heartache, it’s the most blatant omen of cosmic NO I’ve ever seen and experienced. the universe does not want y’all together.

- the 8th house is not about sex. I see this so much on tumblr and it makes me want to SCREAM. the 8th house is NOT. ABOUT. SEX. it is about the consequences of merging with someone. in the 8th house you take on their benefits and their baggage. the 8th house in the ancient tradition was associated with the esteem of others, i.e being beholden to what other people have and can provide you with. speaking as an 8th house venus myself, that isn’t always fun. it’s also a place associated with death, anxiety, and avoiding the inevitable. the 5th and even 7th house are much better places to look for sex. modern astrology has such a misconstrued view of the 8th house as some deep, intense sexy soul bearing place and that’s not what it is at all. i PROMISE you that if you become competent enough you’ll find intensity in some other aspect or placement in your synastry.

- 12th HOUSE SYNASTRY IS NOT SOULMATE SYNASTRY. I don’t even like speaking in absolute terms, I know a happily married couple where her aries stellium falls into his 12th (trining his leo venus, but i digress) but it’s more so the romanticizing of the 12th that drives me crazy. the 12th house is a place of mental anguish, suffering, isolation, and losing yourself. it is called the joy of Saturn, the greater evil-doer. it is a place of hidden enemies, and people who secretly sabotage you. if the ruler of the 7th is in the 12th, the partner can undermine you in some way. if the fourth house ruler is in the 12th, your parents or family could keep some secret from you. it is considered a bad house. the ancients called it “bad spirit” for a reason. tread carefully.

- sign affinity works! when all else fails keep it simple! you’re going to get along with people whose moon sign is in the same element as yours. if you’re a taurus venus, you just “get” other taurus placements, regardless of the house it falls in in your natal chart.

- 11th house synastry is good, and it’s not just cause you’d feel friendly feelings towards each other or whatever. the 11th house is called “good spirit” in ancient astrology, it’s the joy of jupiter. planets here are uplifting and supportive, so someone else’s planets falling here would have a similar effect. it’s warm. i especially like the moon here in synastry.

- nothing beats 7th house synastry. I don’t care, it’s the true house of merging and intimacy and closeness. the seventh house is where you find close bonds. 1st and 5th house are close second and thirds.

- don’t sleep on love asteroids! don’t make them the end all be all, planets will always tell the story best, but i’m currently obsessed with them at the moment. i could make a whole separate post on them.

- juno trines/squares/oppositions >>> juno conjunctions. i’ve seen the trines function much better than the conjunctions. goes back to my point about conjunctions being neutral. i have literally seen venus conjunct juno and saturn conjunct juno relationships fall apart while saturn trine juno, or jupiter square juno relationships thrive over years.

- the asteroid person is the one who feels it in synastry. they play out the myth/meaning through the planet person. this is what i’ve seen on an overarching level. if someone’s cupido conjuncts one of your planets, they have a crush/infatuation and you feel it, and may or may not reciprocate.

i think i’ll cap it here!

#astrology #synastry #astro observations #astrology observations #synastry overlays #zodiac #asteroid synastry #astrology community #astro notes #juno synastry

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foxglovebells · 1 year

Text

The Winter Writer

Azriel x Reader

Summary: One day Mor brings her best friend to the house of wind for game night with the inner circle. Azriel takes immediate interest, as well as Nesta, Feyre, and Gwyn when they find out she’s the author to their favorite smutty romances.

Warnings: None

Notes: My first fic! This is just the first part and there will me much more to come (😏)

****************************************************

“They’re going to love you” Mor squeals excitedly as she finishes up your makeup. “You have no idea.”

You and Mor had been best friends for centuries. You both knew absolutely everything about each other. Even after all these years you had still never met her family. Though, you weren’t very adamant on pushing it because they made you very nervous. She didn’t want them to scare you away, she had said, when you brought them up once.

You take a deep breath to gather your nerves before replying, “I don’t know Mor, I feel like I’m intruding on your inner circle.” You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the vanity in your apartment. Mor stands and looks down on you as she roles her eyes.

“I don’t think anyone could hate you, you’re like the most likable person I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve been alive for a long time.”

You moved to Velaris from the winter court half a century ago. Mor had said she would feel more secure knowing that her best friend was safe and not being caught up in the Amarantha drama. Having parents that had high positions in the Winter court put you too close to danger for Mor’s liking.

While you had never met the inner circle, you had heard almost everything about each one of them. Rhysand was the almighty, powerful high lord who had the biggest soft spot for everyone he loved and cared about. Feyre was kind, selfless, and had a touch for art. Cassian was an Illyrian who was cocky and funny but also gave the best hugs. Amren was a little scary and fierce, but she would always stand up and fight for her friends. Nesta was a tough shell to crack, but she still managed to be the best to talk to when you need advice. Elain was quiet but kind and nurturing. And Azriel, oh Azriel, you had never met him, but Mor always described him as silent, observant, kind, and so many more things. Was it possible to have a crush on someone you’d never met? You based a couple of your book characters on what you had heard of him. Of course, he could be completely different than what you imagined, in that case, you would be severely disappointed.

But even having heard all these things, you’ve yet to meet a single one of them, and because of this you were freaking the fuck out.

“I promise, hun.” She places her hands on either side of your face and looks straight into your eyes, “Plus, I know for a fact that the girls will like you. They have a little book club that has read every single one of your books.” A mischievous expression takes over her face.

“No way, Mor.” Your eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me they’ve read my books.” You shoot up from the vanity chair and pace through the room with your hands twirling a piece of hair to occupy yourself. “Cauldron, Mor, that would have been nice to know.”

Mor throws her head back in laughter, “They haven’t just read them darling, you’re a common talk amongst the library, you’re their favorite.” She walks up and boops you on the nose, you swat her hand away. “Nesta and Feyre are always talking about how sexy they are, I’ve even seen Amren reading one from time to time.”

“Is it too late to back out now?” You sigh in exasperation.

“Even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t let you.”

You glare at her, “I know.”

“Come on, sugar plum, we gotta get going.” Before you can protest she takes your hand and winnows you out of your apartment.

***

“Do we even know if she’s real?” Cassian mutters as he nurses a glass of whiskey. “I mean, Mor said she’s lived here for nearly 50 years—and been friends with her for longer—but we’ve never met her.”

“Probably because she didn’t want your horny ass to hit on her.” Azriel buts in as Rhys lets out a laugh in agreement.

“Your not much better, brother.” Cassian shoots him an amused glare but it’s ignored as Az takes a sip from his glass.

“I can’t say I’m not curious, though.” Rhys starts, “Mor said she was trustworthy enough to know about Velaris, and that she knew her for centuries before she moved here.”

“And yet we’ve never met her and when ever she comes up Mor shuts the subject down.” Cassian replies.

It did make Azriel wonder, he could send his shadows to get information on her, but she’s coming tonight so he might as well just wait and ask her—like a normal person.

All at once the 3 brothers perked up as soon and the felt someone winnow into the house.

“Guess it’s time to finally meet the mystery girl.” Rhys says before sauntering off and going to the main living area where the girls were already there drinking wine and gossiping about the latest book by their favorite author—Y/n Y/l/n.

***

When they enter the room Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, and Emerie are all sitting in front of the fire, drinking wine and giggling quietly.

“Where’s Nyx, darling?” Was the first thing Rhys asks as he makes his way to Feyre’s side and places a loving kiss on her cheek.

Azriel always envied their mating bond, Cassian’s too. He had waited so long to feel the love of a mate, but he would wait as long as it took. He often tried to occupy his heart with harmless relationships to fill the void that hopefully would one day be filled with his mate. But even after centuries of waiting he had yet to even suspect someone. It made him insecure sometimes, how could anyone love someone as scared and broken as him? So to refrain from thinking these thoughts he buried himself into other activities, spying, reading, training. Anything that could take his mind off of the restless thoughts that invaded his brain.

“He ran off to greet Mor.” She replied while leaning into his kiss.

All the males looked slightly of put as they recalled the new unknown guest around around Nyx. Rhys stood straight and was about to go seek them out when they heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards them from the hall.

They all stood and watched as Mor entered the room followed by someone who was still out of view behind Mor.

Mor moved to the side and revealed the most beautiful female Azriel had even seen in his life. You were wearing a silky slip style dress in a deep midnight blue, it contrasted beautifully to the long white waves cascading down to your waist. Winter court, Azriel thought. What caught his attention the most was the small Illyrian at your side with his hand in yours.

“Daddy I found a girl!” Nyx shouts as he tries to drag you towards his father.

You have a small nervous smile on your face and you allow yourself to be dragged towards Rhysand.

“Nyx!” Feyre shoots up from her seat on the chaise and rushes over to snatch up Nyx, releasing your hand in the process. “I’m so sorry.” She says turning to you.

Mor makes her way back up to your side and you look over to her for reassurance. She nods at you and you look back to Feyre with a sweet smile. “That’s all right, nothing to be sorry about” you reply. “I’m Y/n, you must be Feyre.” Rhysand takes Nyx out of his mates arms and you hold out your hand to shake hers. She shakes her head at your hand and instead wraps her arms around you in a hug. You freeze slightly in surprise but quickly relax and return the hug.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Y/n. Mor is awfully protective.” Feyre sends a playful glare to your best friend and she returns it with a sheepish smile. You simply laugh at the exchange.

Mor takes your arm and walks you to the seating area and you take a seat on an armchair close to the fire.

“Y/n,” Mor starts, “This is Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, Emerie and you’ve already met Feyre.” She takes her time pointing to each female around the room. Gwyn and Nesta are sat beside each other on a two seater lounge while Elain sits on the arm chair across from you. Mor walks over to Emerie and lays a hand on her shoulder. You try to hide your smirk behind your hand as you glance between the two of them. The look she gives you is a mix between shut the fuck up and she’s hot isn’t she. It became clear to you that her family doesn’t know about her sexually orientation, that became more clear when you caught the confusion in the eyes of a couple of the others.

“Anyway,” she claps her hands together and walks back to where Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were standing. “This is Rhysand—“

“Call me Rhys, please, any friend of Mor’s is a friends of mine.” You smile at him before Mor continues.

“Then my most favorite nephew, Nyx, whom you’ve already met.” She walks up and pinched the little boys cheeks, who squirms in his dads arms, resulting in him putting Nyx down. Nyx does something no one expects—especially not you—when he runs up to you, climbs onto your chair, and settles into your lap as if nothing was wrong in the world. Every one stares in shock while you just let it has happen, chuckling slightly.

Azriel watches you along with everyone else, but the thought churning in his mind aren’t ones that revolve around Nyx, no, the only thing he can think about is how, beautiful and sweet you are, he might not be able to forgive Mor for keeping you from him. Of course, not literally, but he had never felt to drawn to someone, especially not someone he had never met in his life.

“Sorry.” You say with a small laugh. “Is he normally this friendly?” You look up to see Feyre snickering and Rhys shaking his head in amusement. Mor just looks as if she’s having a proud mother moment.

“Not usually, but he doesn’t meet new people often.” Rhys supplies. “But if he’s bothering you feel free to tell us, we won’t be offended.”

“Oh no, he’s perfect.” You look to the little boy in your lap who’s the split image of his father. His big violet eyes are looking up at you as you smile down at him.

You remember that you hadn’t been introduced to everyone yet. “And I’m guessing these two are Cassian and Azriel.” You gesture to each of them.

Cassian beamed at you, “The one and only, nice to meet you Y/n.”

“You too, Cassian.”

Azriel kept silent but he gave you a forced tight lipped smile, that made your stomach drop a little. He didn’t like you, you concluded.

You looked over to Mor who noticed the interaction and noticed that slightly devastated look on your face. She was quick to change the subject.

“Nice going, asshole.” Cassian says to Azriel out of your ear shot, “She thinks you hate her.”

“What?” Azriel heart sinks, “Why would she think that?” He could never hate you, he knew it the minute he saw you. He wanted to talk to you but he didn’t know what to say.

“You gave her the same obviously fake smile that you give every female that any of us try to set you up with.” Cassian sends him a looks that screams could you be any more oblivious, “Didn’t you see her smile drop slightly and her look to Mor for reassurance?”

No, he did not, and now he feels like a dick. “I didn’t mean too.” He replies solemnly.

“Y/n’s from the winter court. We became friends the first time a visited when I was a child.” Mor smiled at you cheekily before continuing, “I wanted her to move here a few decades ago—“

“—because you’re like an overprotective mother hen.” You cut her off with a laugh but she shushes you playfully.

“No,” she asserts firmly with a glare in your direction, “Well, yes I guess a little.” The group around you laughs.

“If she’s lived here for decades why have we never met her?” Cassian asks and Mor roles her eyes at the questions.

“Did you not hear Y/n, Cass, protective mother hen.” She gestures to herself while you along with everyone else smiles at the interaction. “She needed protecting from the like of you, all of you and your corrupt sense of humor. Now, drinks.”

“Ugh, Yes please” and other mutters of agreement are heard from all around. Rhysand snaps his fingers and wine appears atop the coffee table at the center of the seating.

Elain pours you a glass and hands it to you, you smile gratefully. Nyx has since fallen asleep on your lap, his face tucked into your neck and you run your hand over his head while paying attention to conversation around you.

“So Y/n, you want to tell everyone what you do for a living?” Mor says, bringing everyone’s attention to you once more, though, you couldn’t help but notice that one particular person attention had been on you the whole time.

You glare at Mor, a real glare this time, no playfulness in your stare. “Morrigan, what did we talk about.” You say to her while everyone listens with interest. She doesn’t reply, but instead hold your stare with a challenging look. Eventually giving up you cave. “I’m an author.”

“I expected something completely different from the way you two were looking at each other.” Nesta laughs as she finished her glass of wine.

“Me too.” Pipes Gwyn who was sitting on the lounge where Feyre had once been. Feyre was now curled up in the lap of the high lord. “Are you published.”

“Um—” you hesitate.

“Yes, she is.” Mor states simply once she’s decided that you’re taking far to long to answer such an easy question.

“Do you think we’d know any?” Gwyn asks curiously. “The girls and I are in a book club, I’m sure we’ve had to at least heard of it.”

“Oh I write under pseudonym, you probably haven’t heard of me.” You attempt to laugh it off, but Nesta and Gwyn seem keen on getting the answer out of you.

“Try us.” Nesta pushes.

“Sellyn Drake.” You say quietly with a slight embarrassed chuckle. Please tell me they haven’t read my books, please, please, ple—

“Fucking shit!” Nesta shoots up, her refilled glass of wine spilling over the lip of the glass. Every female in the room seems to sit up, even Feyre from where she was comfortably tucked into Rhysand.

“You’re kidding, right?” Gwyn shrieks with an excited smile on her face.

“You’ve heard of me?” You say sheepishly.

“Heard of you!” Nesta snaps her fingers and every single book that you’ve ever published appears directly in front of you. You reach for a book, trying not to jostle the sleeping Illyrian in your arms. Opening the book you’re surprised to see annotations on every page, highlighted words and thoughts fill each blank space.

“Um wow, I didn’t expect this.” You laugh as you flip through the pages coming across and especially spicy scene before slamming the book shut and placing it back on the pile.

“Would it be weird if I asked you to sign them?”

“Not at all, how about we meet for coffee sometime, I can even bring the manuscript for my next book, I’ve been looking for some insight on it.” You suggest, a little bit nervous that she might turn you down.

“Holy shit, of course!” She looks over to Feyre, Gwyn, and Emerie. “You know what? What do you think about coming to our next book club meeting?”

You return her excitement at that, “That sounds perfect.”

Nesta excitedly goes to Cassian and plops in his lap. His arms wrap around her waist and kisses her neck.

“You’re the smutty romance author, eh.” Cassian guesses in response to his mates excitement.

Your face burns red and you attempt to hide it by looking away. Azriel watched the exchange with a barely there smirk on his face. Ah maybe he could use that as a conversation starter, he thought. He would only have to get you alone first. He observed that you weren’t to comfortable talking about your occupation in a large group like this with new people. Though, he didn’t understand why an extremely successful author wouldn’t want to flaunt her talents.

“Y/n?” Starts Rhys. “Are you comfortable talking about your family?” He didn’t want to pry, but he was curious, something about you was just so familiar.

“Oh, of course.” You loved your family dearly and enjoyed any excuse to talk about them, especially your sister. “My sister is the lady of the winter court.”

“Viviane?” Feyre asks and you nod in response.

“Yes, we’re fraternal twins.” You smile as you think about your twin sister who was such a talented warrior.

“She’s amazing, and so is my niece, Seely, who was born 3 years ago, about the same age as Nyx actually.” You gesture to the sleeping form wrapped in your arms.

“I hadn’t realized you had such useful connections—” Rhys starts.

“—No.” Mor cuts him off before he can continue. “You are not using my best friend for a winter court alliance. You want an alliance, figure out how to get it without using her as pawn.”

Rhys looked apologetic, “She’s right, I apologize Y/n.”

“No harm done, if it’s any reassurance Kallias and Vivian are rather fond of your inner circle. I’m sure if you ever did want an alliance you wouldn’t have trouble achieving it, with or without my assistance.” You reply, you truly didn’t mind, you actually found it quite comforting that he was willing to talk politics with you, even if it was an odd situation to do so.

A new voice speaks up, surprising everyone in the room. “So you can fight?” Azriel kicks off from his place in the shadows against the wall, finally stepping into the light of the fire and taking the empty seat to your left.

“What do you mean?” You ask him to specify.

“We’ll Viviane is a highly trained warrior, and I’ve seen how well trained the winter court army is. I was wondering if you were trained similarly.”

“Yes, Viviane and I were trained by our father from the moment we could walk.” You smile in remembrance, your father was such a good teacher and was kind and gave you advice on how to improve rather than yelling. Many of your favorite memories were training beside him and your sister. “It’s been several years though, I probably a bit rusty.”

“I could always help.” He rushes out, as if he didn’t really mean to say that. He clears his throat. “I mean, if you ever wanted to train again I would be happy to be your partner.” Azriel cursed himself for not controlling his words, he hoped you wouldn’t turn him down.

“I would love that Azriel, thank you.” You smile widely at him and you look back to the group.

Feyre stands up and begins to make her way towards you. “As much fun as this has been I really need to get Nyx into his bed.”

“Of course, do you want to take him or I would be happy to walk up with you so he doesn’t wake.” You offer, cradling Nyx against your chest in preparation for her answer.

“That would be amazing, Y/n.” She smiles graciously at you. You stand from the comfy armchair and follow Feyre out of the room and through a series of hallways. She comes to a bedroom and you both go in and put Nyx to bed. “I’ve never seen him act so attached to someone new before. He really likes you.”

“I’m glad, I really like him too.” You both make your way back to the sitting room as you yawn.

“I’ve had so much fun, but I really should get going before I become too tired to winnow home.” You stay standing up instead of sitting back down. You were sure that if you sat back down you would surely fall asleep.

“Stay the night, please.” Rhys offers, “you could join us tomorrow for breakfast and training.”

“And a book club meeting, the girls and I have one in the library tomorrow.” Nesta adds while each of the girls agrees.

“I don’t know,” you start to reply “I don’t want to intrude—”

“Y/n! How many times do I have to repeat myself before you process it in you thick skull.” Mor throws her hand up, exasperated. “You. Are. Not. Intruding.”

You fidget with a strand of your snowy white hair before replying. “Just because you feel that way doesn’t mean the others do. You’re biased Mor.”

“Oh Mother.” She pinches the bridge of her nose as if you are a insulant child.

“If you fear that you are intruding I can guarantee that you are not.” Feyre tells you kindly, a much kinder approach than Mor’s.

You’re still hesitant, but you make up your mind. “Alright, I guess I’ll stay.”

Everyone looks content with your response. But it’s Nesta who’s the first to talk. “Perfect. Training starts at sunrise.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x you #mor #Rhysand #Feyre #Nyx #Acotar #night court #winter court #author #sellyn drake #books #foxglovebells

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miniwheat77 · 3 months

Text

Blood. (141 x Reader.)

!sexual assault, groping, violence, blood, THIS IS SENSITIVE MATERIAL YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

The first time it happened, you brushed it off like it was an accident.

He’d finished talking to you, sent you on your way and where he was standing. His hand brushing over your backside.

In your gut it felt wrong, but you brushed it off.

The second time. It was much different.

He was scolding you for something stupid, a new recruit had messed something up under your watch and he’d reached out, groping you through your shirt. You shoved his hand away, mortified. But he only moved closer. “It’s okay. You’ll learn to be good.”

Just as you were getting ready to bolt away, he gripped your wrist and forced you closer. His lips right near your ear. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll have your job. And you don’t want that right? Be a good girl.” He breathes. Breathing in the scent of your hair. You trembled as you left his office that day.

The commander was hungry to be higher than everyone else, and why it was you he chose to harass you’d never understand.

You were making your way out of his office. Trembling. Tears pooling at your waterline. You made your way to your friends car. She told you she’d take you off base for the day. When you asked for the day off, you payed the price. Just as you reached her car, your phone rang. You lifted it up, seeing his name flash across the screen. You took a deep breath, answering it. “I’ve got a gift for you when you come back tonight darling. Don’t be afraid when you come into your room.”

You hang up the phone. Resting your arm on the top of the car. Burying your face into your elbow and letting out a sob. Your friend looks at you sympathetically. “Y/N..” she breathes. She’s the only other person who knows. She’s tried to convince you to tell others plenty of times, but you won’t budge. Scared of what he could do. Knowing what he’s capable of. “Hey, everything alright?” You hear Gaz’s voice. But keep your face buried in your arm. You hear her sigh. “No. No nothing is alright.” She answers for you. “What’s going on?”

Gaz and Soap had just gotten off of watch. “It’s the commander.” She crosses her arms. You wipe your eyes, looking up at her. “Just.. don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

Soap moves closer. Seeing just how distraught you are. “He.. he’s been…” she freezes.

Gaz looks up. “Is he touching you?” He looks at you.

You drop your head again. Gaz and Soap exchange glances. Soaps jawline hardens as he grits his teeth. “For a couple months now.” She answers for you. “Take her off base. We’ve got it.” Soap pats the top of the car. “Wait- what are you going to do?” She asks. “Don’t worry, he won’t do anything anymore.” He’s answers. “Just.. take her out.” He nods.

The both of you get into the car.

“What do you think they’re going to do?” She looks at you. You turn your head to the window.

“Don’t know. Hopefully kill him.”

“What are we going to do?” Gaz asks Soap. “We’re going to get Ghost and Price first.” He opens up the door to Captain Price’s office, thankful when Ghost is sitting there. “Boys?” Captain Price raises an eyebrow. “Commander Mason has been assaulting Y/N.”

Soap crosses his arms. Price’s face hardens immediately. “What?”

“We seen her out in the parking lot. Fucking distraught.” Gaz answers. “Are you sure?”

“About positive sir. Said it’s been going on a couple months now. Assuming he’s been threatening her rank.” Price nods his head. “Alright. Come on.” He stands up from his chair, and the four of them walk down the hallway together. Price goes in first and the others wait outside.

He knocks at the door. “Come in!” He calls. Price steps inside, being sure to leave the door open. “Ah, Captain. What brings you in here?”

“I’ve just been informed that you’ve been inappropriately touching people on my base.”

Price can see him stiffen up immediately. “What?”

“Y/N is lying.” The words leave his lips before John can answer. “Weird… I didn’t say who told me, did I?”

His eyes are wide. He’s just sold himself out and he knows it. “This has nothing to do with you, Price. I suggest you stay out of this. This discussion is over.” He goes to walk out the door, but Soap steps into the doorway, leaning up against the frame.

He’s got a knife in his hand and he’s moving it back and fourth. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere, buddy.” Soap smiles. “Tell the truth.” John crosses his arms, leaning up against the desk. “I.. I don’t know what she told you but it’s not true.” He backs up into the wall behind him. “See… that’s where you’ve got it wrong. Because she didn’t tell us anything. Someone else did. But since you jumped to conclusions, you’ve just incriminated yourself so much more.” Gaz shakes his head. “You’re supposed to be someone girls can trust. How many women have you done this to hm?” Soap has moved and the other two men have walked in, Ghost still blocking the door. “You’ve got it all wrong. Look.. we can call Y/N in and she’ll clear this whole thing up.”

John shakes his head. “No. She’s… out. And.. you’re never gonna see her again. Not ever.”

“Yes I will.”

“No. You won’t.” John draws his gun. Seeing the panic flare in his eyes. “Let’s take a walk.”

———

When you got back to base, you got out of her car and made your way back inside, dread in your chest. He probably talked them down. Probably told them you were lying and they believed him. So he’ll be waiting for you in your room, like usual. He’s probably going to hurt you this time.

You open up your door, but it’s quiet. You take a deep breath.

“Y/N.”

You spin around, seeing Captain Price standing there. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Come with me?” He asks. You nod your head. Following him. You follow right along side him. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner, darling?”

You look at your feet as you walk. “I was scared.”

He nods his head. “I’ll always believe you, you know that?” He sighs. “I want you to know that I’ve got your back and I’d NEVER let anyone do that to you. None of us would.” You follow him outside, it’s starting to get dark. The sun has disappeared behind the mountains around you. He leads you out to the garage, where he opens the door of the Humvee for you.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you something.”

He reaches across the center of the Humvee, slowly resting his hand on your thigh. He’s trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry about what he’s done to you. And I want you to know it’s not going to happen anymore.” You rest your hand on top of his. Squeezing it slightly. You’re not scared of him. He never scared you. He’d never do anything to hurt you. Nobody in this task force would.

He pulls up to pretty much the middle of nowhere. Getting out and moving around the other side to open your door for you. You follow him up to what looks like disturbed ground.

“What is this?”

“It’s a promise I’m making you.” He turns to look at you. “What?”

“Nobody is going to hurt you ever again, not as long I’m around. No matter what they say to you, they can’t hurt you. They can’t fire you. Can’t get you into trouble, if something happens, you come straight to me.” He looks at you. You nod your head. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Because if they do.” He turns to look at the ground.

“They’ll end up here.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what he means.

“Thank you Captain Price.” You breathe. “I’m just.. so glad that it’s over.” You sigh.

“Us too. Now let’s get back. I’m going to help you move your room. I know you’ve got some bad memories in the last.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told us everything.” He turns away from you. Bile growing at the back of his throat.

“You’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish

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badgerbl00d · 1 year

Text

one piece boys falling in love at first sight

☆ characters: ace, rayleigh, marco

☆ up next: one piece characters with a jealous gf

☆ a/n: my last post generated a lot of new followers and requests! i'm so happy and am excited to start working on all the requests. i also will be posting a master list soon so thank u for being patient with me on that front haha. enjoy! <3

ace

1k words

“Welcome aboard!!”

Cheers erupted from the crew, as they all swarmed the deck.

Joining the Whitebeard Pirates was always celebrated with an enormous party.

The sun had started to set but it still beat down relentlessly on the ship and Ace craned his neck to try and get a better view.

You were all the crew had been talking about for weeks.

Some thief who had managed to steal from the Whitebeard Pirates and get away with it.

He remembers how Whitebeard laughed when Izo and Thatch came moping back from inventory, nearly pissing themselves when they were forced to admit they’d been got by an amateur.

Whitebeard had ordered that you be tracked down immediately because anyone who stole from him with that much skill and audacity deserved a spot on his crew.

After a few weeks of searching, Izo came back with you.

From what he’d heard you weren’t easy to convince.

There was alcohol being passed around and the spray of champagne bottles being opened left and right misted his neck.

He pushed through everyone and began making his way toward the front.

He eventually bumped into Marco who’d secured a front-row seat, downing beer as your fellow pirates all came to get a look at you.

“What’s the big fuss? Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” he groaned.

Marco laughed, “Jealous that you’re not the shiny new toy anymore?”

“Barely.”

Both men had given up on trying to get a look at you and decided they’d wait for everything to die down.

“Want a beer?”

Ace nodded and readily accepted the cool can, chugging it within seconds.

“It’s hot as hell out here.”

Marco took another sip of his drink, “If you feel hot how do you think I feel.”

“Well you’re kind of fire too, you know, like- the whole phoenix thing is-”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s different though.”

“I mean, you could argue that the blue fire is hotter than the red part.”

“Yeah, dumbass, but the point of my devil fruit isn’t fire.”

“Okay well, they’re close enough.”

The heat got the better of the both of them and they gave up their argument, both fairly moody at the heat and the noise.

“When’s the food part starting.”

“Soon probably, apparently Thatch has the hots for the kid.”

Ace choked a bit on his drink.

“What do you mean? Like he thinks he’s hot?”

“She.”

This caught Ace even more off-guard.

“She!?”

Now he really wanted to get a look at you.

After another few minutes, the crowd relented, and people started making their way back to the rest of the ship.

As the group of cheering pirates around you thinned, you felt relief flooding your senses.

You took a deep breath and walked on board the Moby Dick.

It was massive. Now that you could actually see it, you realized just how intimidating of a ship this really was. Of course, you’d had a general idea since you did rob it blind, but still. It was different when you were a welcome guest.

Ace took his chance now, and as the last of your welcoming party dissipated he made his way over to you.

As if on cue, you turned to look at him.

The sun was positioned perfectly behind your head and framed you in a sort of angelic light, it poured up and over your frame from behind you, casting golden hues through your h/c hair.

He stopped in his tracks, one foot still caught mid-step, trailing behind the other.

You were… pretty.

The slight breeze that had been brought with sunset, swept through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open.

Your lips were slightly parted, had you been saying something?

He didn’t know, he was too enraptured with everything else.

You stood tall, it was clear you had pride to spare.

Your tan skin glimmered with the same regal hue as your hair, and never in his life had Ace felt that something- someone had commanded his attention so thoroughly with just their presence.

You walked toward him, Oh my god she’s walking toward me.

He was proud and he had abundant confidence in his worth but if he’d ever doubted that, it was now that he did.

You extended a hand towards Ace, and as if moving through honey your movement was gentle and smooth, but certain.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I think I’ve seen your wanted posters before. You-”

Whatever else you said wasn’t registered by the freckled boy in front of you.

His cheeks were red and his eyes set.

He was breathing deeply, hanging onto everything you did, drinking in the magnificent sight of you.

He instinctively reached his hand up toward his head to take off his hat and hold it against his chest.

Your voice was silky and hung in the air like cigarette smoke.

The way you looked at him, your eyes intensely focused and direct, had his knees feeling shaky.

Any ounce of ego left in his body from the first sight of you, drained out of him as you spoke.

His brain was flushed with sudden anxieties.

Had he come across as a creep? What if you took to the other guys? He was young and maybe you wanted something else? Maybe you didn’t even want a guy at all and your ambitions involving piracy had nothing to do with men!

You looked at him with a puzzled look, your nose wrinkled slightly.

“Are you okay?”

Fuck, she’s so cute.

If he had been less out of it, he would have heard Marco’s cackling in the background.

“Real smooth, Ace!” Thatch yelled from the balcony outside the kitchen.

You laughed, She laughed!

Ace blinked back the muddled thoughts and premature anxieties that had started fuzzing his thoughts.

You were giggling to yourself and seemed nearly ready to try and introduce yourself to the next person.

Ace had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he had time. You both had all the time in the world.

So he instead opted to tip his hat and flash you a smile.

“Hi.”

rayleigh

1k words

A quick stop, Roger had promised.

No more than two days, he’d said.

Everyone knew he was lying, and that they’d be landbound for at least a week, but no one was going to complain.

Almost no one.

“Roger, we should get going,” Rayleigh urged, but the Captain was three beers and ฿3,000 into a game of poker. They wouldn’t be leaving until morning.

Roger laughed loudly, earning stares from the bar's patrons.

“What’re you in such a rush for?! There’re women and booze all over the island, go find some to your liking and quit complainin’!” He laughed again and Rayleigh gave up and decided he’d just head back to the ship for now. He’d send someone to pick up the captain in the morning.

He didn’t mind the island itself. It was a spring island, and the clime sat at a gentle temperature, with easy-going winds. Tall grass covered the majority of the island and flowers were in bloom all over.

Yellow daffodils and pink tulips littered the island, dotting the hills and fields with spots of color.

He made his way slowly back toward the ship, taking more time than usual to enjoy the scenery. If he was going to be stuck here he may as well enjoy it.

The sun was just about the set, and vibrant hues of orange colored the sky and with his hands in his pockets, he wandered through the hills back to sea.

The island had no real port, there was just a bay where ships parked. There weren’t any walkways or built-in passages from which to disembark from the ship, you simply had to drop the anchor and paddle or swim to the rocky shore. The grass grew right up to the edge of the ocean, and he sat down in it, deciding he’d wait until it got dark.

A soft rustling to his left caught his attention.

Tucked in the grass, was a girl sleeping, a book in her hands.

She was wearing a white dress, and it moved together with the grass, back and forth, pushed by the wind.

A cool breeze ran through your body and with a slight shiver, you slowly blinked your eyes open, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, rolling onto your stomach.

You flipped through the pages of your book, going back and forth a few times before deciding to close it altogether.

You sat up, stretching your arms out over your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders.

Rayleigh was, for lack of a better term, entranced.

He was completely hypnotized by the sight of you.

He felt as though you’d materialized before him, a beautiful fairy or something similar.

He’d heard stories of sailors coming across women whose beauty stopped them in their tracks. Women that they thought about every night after those initial encounters, held a complete hold on their minds.

He thought that now he felt something similar.

He felt awkward just sitting and watching you, and thought he might say something.

A tug in his chest urged him to stand up and try and present himself, but he felt an irritating nervousness spread throughout his body.

C’mon, Rayleigh.

He was usually so… good at this.

If he saw a pretty girl at a bar or a port or an island he would just talk to her.

Everything after that came naturally.

He was a Roger pirate for god’s sake, people around the globe feared him and revered him, and yet… and yet with every breath, he took to try and start a sentence he came up blank.

The thirty seconds he’d spent trying to speak to you felt like an hour and he thought his heart might stop when you’d turned around to look at him.

“Oh! Hello!”

He drew in a breath.

The colored sunset light fell on your face and illuminated your features in soft hues.

Your eyes widened slightly at the man standing before you and you gave him an awkward smile.

“Have you been standing there a long time?”

An accusatory look settled on your face, and your lips settled into a frustrated pout.

“I, um, yes,” he admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, “I wasn’t- I mean- I had just sat here to enjoy the, um-”

“Yeah, yeah, you creep, I get it.”

You laughed as you said this, and he relaxed a little.

“You’re not from around here are you?” you asked.

“What gave it away?”

“You seem surprised that someone was sleeping outside. It’s normal here, I swear I’m not some weirdo or anything. Our grass is known for being soft.”

He sat back down, slightly closer to you this time.

“What’s that?”

You sat closer to him, pointing to the log pose on his wrist.

“It’s a compass. Pirates use it on the Grand Line, it works by using the magnetism from each island to route the way toward the next one.”

“You’re a pirate! You don’t look like one! Or act like one.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

You giggled, and he felt completely swept up by your presence. How quickly you started trusting him, the curiosity in your voice that only grew with each question he answered.

You continued asking him questions, what being a pirate was like, why he was a pirate, and who else did he know that was a pirate. Had he killed anybody?

The more you talked, the more he started feeling like himself. His wittiness and sarcasm started slowly coming back to him, he was able to put aside his awe for your beauty in exchange for his usual flirtiness.

The dynamic between you seemed to shift back and forth between who felt bold and who felt shy.

“Do you drink?”

“Do I look like I drink?”

Rayleigh laughed, and you joined him.

Night had set hours ago, yet you kept talking as though you had all the time in the world.

You inched even closer to him, he sat with his legs crossed, and you sat on your knees, feet tucked underneath you.

You were facing each other and you leaned forward, bringing your lips closer to his.

“When do you leave?”

He tucked some stray pieces of hair behind your ear, trailing a hand down your face.

You rested your head against his palm, looking up at him.

“Soon.”

“That’s too bad. I like you a lot. You’re more than a pretty face.”

Rayleigh smiled at that, “I haven’t heard that one before!”

In a burst of energy and eagerness you pressed your lips to his, and just as quickly retracted.

He smiled again, bigger this time, and brought his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

You pressed another kiss to his lips, still too quickly for him to reciprocate.

He laughed and you felt proud at the blush you saw coloring his cheeks.

“Tell me, pirate, are you busy tonight?”

“Not at all, pretty.”

“Would you like to be?”

“Very much.

marco

1.2k words

“Why can’t you send Ace to do it?”

“‘Cause I sent ‘im to go get fish from the market,” Thatch explained, “And before you ask, I can’t go either ‘cause I’ll be here. Cooking.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back soon.”

Marco threw on a sweater and made his way into the town they were staying in. Thatch was all worked up and excited since they’re known for their produce and food quality.

Naturally, everyone had been sent out to get different ingredients for him.

Marco looked down at the short list he was given, ‘Apples’.

‘Very concise,’ he thought to himself.

It was midday and the sun was shining. It was fairly warm on the island, and it was covered in trees.

There were several signs that pointed him towards the location of the apple farm your family owned.

He found it with ease and walked around for a bit when he didn’t see anyone out front.

Every tree was teaming with ripe apples of all kinds. Overripe ones littered the floor and there were some chickens walking around.

He had been walking for no more than five minutes before he saw you.

You were reaching up to try and grab the apples that were up on the higher branches of the tree.

You strained your arms upward, using the trunk of the tree as support, your long legs balancing on the tips of your toes.

Your short dress slid up against your thighs, revealing a soft tan line.

A few beads of sweat formed on your forehead and after your third reach with no success, you gave up.

He could feel the pace of his heartbeat start to pick up slightly.

You looked so calm and at ease. The line of your body as you stretched upward was tantalizing and he couldn’t look away.

He didn’t want to scare you so he gently cleared his throat.

You turned around in a panic, knocking over a few of the apples in the full baskets that were on the floor next to you.

“Oh! Welcome! Sorry! Sorry- I’m the only one in today and I was trying to get a few more baskets full,” you explained to him.

“No worries,” Marco said. His voice was deep and he sounded so laid back.

You were still a bit too far to converse at a normal volume so you walked to him, caught off-guard by how handsome he was.

He wasn’t wearing anything surprising, nor was he doing anything that was out of the ordinary but you could tell that he wasn’t from around here.

His hands were calloused and he had a few visible scars spread across the visible parts of his skin.

“What can I get for you today,” you smiled at him.

“I was sent out for apples! I suppose I’ll take two baskets pleas-”

Marco’s voice trailed off and he cut off his own sentence as he looked and actually made eye contact with you.

Oh, god.

He knew you’d probably be hot based on what he’d seen earlier but you were… unspeakably beautiful.

Your cheeks were full and bright.

Your lips were a lively pink and your eyes caught the shifting glimmers of sunlight in them.

Your hair was pulled back into two messy braids and your loose strands of hair swept back and forth over your face.

You were unbelievably flattered.

Naive as you were to love and its complications, you knew what a tempted man looked like.

An unfamiliar sensation tugged at your chest. You felt like the tendons and muscles around your heart were opening and contracting wildly.

Your breath hitched in your throat and settled itself right on your vocal cords, you couldn’t say anything.

You both held a hilariously awkward form of eye contact for several moments.

Marco swallowed and cleared his mind, regaining his composure to the best of his ability.

“Two of these,” he said again, blinking his gaze down toward the floor as he gestured down toward the basket.

You took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing another basket for him.

They were heavier than they looked and after watching your two failed tries at lifting the baskets, Marco offered some help. “Oh, y-yes, please! Thanks,” you said, stepping back as he walked over and picked up the baskets with ease.

“How much do I owe ya?”

“Um.. j-just ฿15.”

“Fifteen?! That’s it?”

“We have, um, a discount going on right now... For handsome travelers.”

Why would I say that? Oh my god, why would I say that!? your cheeks started to rapidly heat up and you shuffled your feet nervously.

Your heart started beating faster against your chest when Marco responded, “How sweet. Take this as a tip then.”

He had a devilishly handsome smile on his face, and you looked at the money he was handing you. “Oh fifty is way too much- I can’t accept that, that’s more than the two baskets would normally be anyway.”

“Well, this is what I always tip beautiful girls.”

You laughed, trying to ignore the rising temperature of your face.

How embarrassing to be this easily flustered.

He smiled at you, clearly enjoying himself.

“C’mon, I insist,” he closed your hand around the money and gently guided your hand back toward your chest.

You pouted, feeling guilty that he gave you so much money.

“You’re sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pirate,” he said, “There’s a lot more where this came from.”

His voice was full of confidence but he was so relaxed.

It made your stomach twist.

The way he carried himself- you could tell he was dangerous, but he was so laid back.

“A pirate?”

He nodded.

You put the money away, and played with the ends of your braids, unsure of what to say to him.

He bent down, one arm on each side of you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you stood frozen still.

He picked up the baskets, one in each hand, from your sides.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day here, I’m afraid I have to report back soon.”

You nodded, sheepishly looking down at the floor.

He smiled at you again, winking this time.

He turned and started walking back toward the entrance.

You knew you’d probably never see him again and a kind of unknown anxiety made its way to your chest.

“Wait!” you called out, running after him.

He turned around.

“Will... Will I see you again?”

This time a less nonchalant smile spread across the Commander’s face.

“Oh, absolutely,” he teased, “I’ve got wanted posters in every town from here to North Blue.”

You pouted again.

So cute! Marco thought to himself.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can work something out.”

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Marco,” he answered, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face.”

You smiled.

He couldn’t help but stare.

It suddenly dawned on Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, that he was positively, undoubtedly fucked.

You stood in front of him, waiting for him to say something else.

“You’ll see me again,” he said, this time with unwavering certainty,

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6. Don’t make plans for the next morning.”

2K notes · View notes

backwzzds · 11 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ body party, sensei!zoro (nsfw)

lora’s note: so ghetto 🙄 repost for kazuha 🤍 @roronoaswifey

thinking about sensei!zoro, a master swordsman who taught weekend classes to whoever wanted to learn the art and craft of swordsmanship. roronoa zoro, renowned the nation’s best swordsman. almost no one knew what he did during his free time, except that he ran a secret and private martial arts gym to a select few of individuals in his class—all joined by some referral of a past member.

you were his newest addition. invited by your friend, she knew how much you needed to destress from all the problems in your life. you’d signed up on the very last day zoro was still accepting members, being the last and final one to walk through the door of the underground gym.

from the way you tried to quietly sneak in the back of the class, already twenty minutes late from being lost, zoro never missed the way you struggled to keep up with the other women who mirrored his stance almost as good as his. first were the stretches. he took a lot of time to make sure no one caught cramps mid-training, so he always spent at least an hour on it every session.

you’re caught in the back, too busy trying to see his tall figure behind all the moving women demonstrate the next move, but get confused when there’s nobody up front anymore.

“make sure to extend your limbs, you wanna feel your muscles stretch in your body,” his voice startles you as you try your hardest to mirror the women in front of you.

you laugh nervously. “i’m not so flexible,” you weren’t so good at your balance either, you didn’t miss the way the other women laughed at your inability to keep up. they were much more fit, able to stand in heinous positions for long amounts of times. a large hand is placed on your abdomen and another on your back.

“don’t look at them,” sensei!zoro instructs. “just breathe.” with a nod of your head, you do as told with his hands supporting you up. “you’re new to the class. i don’t expect you to master something like armament so easily, especially not on the first day.” his voice is supportive and soothing; it makes your nerves ease just a little bit.

but in your peripheral, you see the way two women beside you gave you small glares. you weren’t sure if a lot of the girls here took the class because they actually wanted to learn swordsmanship or just flex their petite bodies for the incredibly hot sensei. you were different though.

you didn’t have a skinny body or long legs—you had curves filling out your sweatpants tightly, and you couldn’t move too much or else your heavy breasts would bounce painfully—of course you had to navigate the course differently than them. but you weren’t gonna let a little weight on you stop you from trying a new (and healthy) coping mechanism to get away from your problems.

after stretches, came sparring. everyone had gone over to the sword rack and chose their weapon of choice, while you took the time to hold each one, measuring out which one was the perfect weight for you.

“that’s a good one,” sensei!zoro interrupts your thoughts. “seems light enough for you to hold. lemme see your swing.” doing as told, you demonstrate a quick swing away from his body, and he nods in approval. “that’s your sword now. look at it, remember it, and come here.”

you follow his to a corner of the room, away from everyone else. “they’re a few steps ahead. i’ll catch you up on what we’ve learned so far.”

you frown before bowing. “sorry, you shouldn’t have to—woah!” you’re caught off guard by a sudden swing of a very sharp sword.

“rule one,” zoro eyes you with a smirk. “once we get on these mats—it’s battle only. i’ll go easy on you today.”

you firmly nod your head and get into stance. “yes sir.”

four hours later, the class finally ends, and everyone is preparing to go home, tired and sweaty. you’re resting your bag on your shoulder about to follow out the exit when your name is heard through the large gym.

“y/n,” sensei!zoro calls. your classmates all turn around to look at him with hopeful eyes. with an amused smile, the young teacher gestures his head to the exit. “the rest of you are dismissed. see you next week. y/n, c’mere.”

you furrow your eyebrows and slowly gravitatetoward the green-haired man, trying to ignore the slick comments being muttered under the breaths of your classmates.

“how come she gets to stay back? she can literally learn on her own.”

your voice is nervous as you grip onto the handle of your bag. “yes sensei?”

“zoro. you can call me zoro after class hours,” he tells you. “you did well today. best new student i’ve seen in a while,” he crosses his arms as he leans back against his desk.

surprise is etched in your throat. “r-really? i didn’t think so, i was struggling on some of the balance positions. i’m not exactly the most flexible, so it’s a bit hard for me to start off at least.” you admit. “literally all i can do is the splits, and i haven’t even done that in a while.”

“that’s alright, practice makes perfect,” your handsome teacher assures you. “over time, if you decide to stay in the class, balance and flexibility will come to you like muscle memory. you’ll be surprised how much your body can accomplish when you give it a chance. trust me, you’ll be able to put your legs behind your ears by the time i’m done with you.”

your brown cheeks flush at his comment. you were sure he didn’t have any hidden innuendo behind his words, but you still can’t help but heat up at his nasty words. his voice is naturally flirty as he smiles over at you.

zoro can’t help but be amused at your natural reaction. he’d clearly been eyeing you all day, the way your beautiful body actually looked damn-near perfect as it mirrored his own movements. sure, your balance wasn’t exactly the best; but you kept trying till you got it right. and because of that, sparring with him was much easier than it should have and would have been with anyone else. on top of being a fast learner, he liked your determination; it was something he admired in his students, especially one as beautiful as you.

you shift your weight from one leg to another in an attempt to at least relieve the tingling feeling between your thighs. “thank you sensei—i mean zoro. i really had fun during this class. sorry again for coming late, i got lost trying to find the building underground.”

“‘s no problem, don’t worry about it. i have a hard time finding my way around too sometimes.” zoro chuckled at your fluster. “next class though, you better be here bright and early. that’s an order too.”

“i will! hopefully i don’t get lost again. in the mean time, i’ll keep practicing my stretches at home. i would not wanna catch a cramp in the middle of sparring, especially with you,” you scoff ironically with a small laugh but once you realize what you’d actually said, you quickly correct yourself. “o-or anyone else that i’d be training with.”

zoro leans up off his desk and walks over to your body. “no worries. it’s my job to teach you the art of swordsmanship. how to take it seriously to the point where’s not just a side hobby—but a lifestyle as well,” his voice lowers as he looks down at you. “i can tell you’re not confident in your skills yet. you should be. you did well for a first day beginner.��

“well, it’s really just the flexibility and balance i’m worried about,” you admit, gesturing to yourself. “i’m kinda different than everyone else in the class so i wasn’t sure if i was even doing it right. at least, based on the comments from the others.” you roll your eyes. “i’ll keep trying though. flexibility shouldn’t be too hard to learn.”

you’re caught by surprise at your sensei’s next words. his large hand grabs at your chin, and lightly tilts your head back to face him. he leans in and nearly touches his nose with yours, breathing out, “let me teach you.”

and that was exactly how you ended up with your ankles right behind your ears at this very moment.

“this isn’t flexible?” sensei!zoro’s rough voice teases as he pounds into you mercilessly. his large fingers comes down to pull back the hood of your pussy and show love to your clit, rubbing the small nub in between his fingers and stimulating you even more. “look how you got your ankles behind your ears for me like a filthy girl. what i’d say? pretty flexible to me.”

the green-haired man looked down at your connecting bodies in amazement as he watched his fat tip slip in and out of your pussy successfully swallowing him whole with every hungry thrust he gave you. suddenly, a long dribble of spit fell from his glossy lips as he spat on your pussy, already creamy from your previous orgasms against him. zoro nastily uses the new source of lube as an excuse to touch up all on you, spreading the lips of your cunt apart to reveal all of you to him.

tears fell from your eyes as you cried for more, running your manicured fingers across his scarred chest. “you like that princess?” like the way i’m fucking you so good?” zoro engulfs your lips in his, swallowing your cries into his mouth. “tell me how you feel.”

“yes, so good sir,” you babble. you couldn’t even speak properly, not with the feeling of his pretty cockhead hitting each inch of your gummy walls. your legs were so far behind your head, this position allowed zoro to hit nothing but your aching cervix. you’d broken your celibacy for your martial arts teacher whom you’d met barely six hours ago, and you didn’t feel an ounce of regret for one bit. “please more, ‘m gonna cum, zoro!”

sensei!zoro would smirk down at you with dark eyes, debating on denying you your fourth orgasm for the night. deciding to tease you a bit more, he resorted to a harsh smack to the fat of your tit, watching the recoil bounce to easily. your skin gains red undertones as that part of your breast grows warm. “not my name pretty. c’mon say it.”

throwing your head back, you rolled your hips against his. you loved the way the curtains indeed matched the drapes as small moss green pubic hairs were covered in nothing but your slick from zoro thrusting into you forcefully. “i’m gonna cum, sensei. please let me cum.”

you’re turning to putty in his hands as he keeps you in a damn-near mating press. you were nervous that the abstract position would have caused you pain, not having been folded like this in a very long time, but zoro completely made sure you were comfortable if he was gonna fuck you to tears. the jewelry pierced in your navel dangled around as the pudge of your stomach rolled up against you tightly, completely helpless as the large strong man held you in this heavenly position, never once letting go of your flesh.

“no objections here. go on and cum.” with a smirk of completion, the young instructor sped up his pace as he helped you reach your high, leading you to completely soak his torso, squirting for the very first time in your entire sex life. you let out loud cries mixed with whines as you feel your body spasm under your instructor’s hot touch, who stood above you watching in complete amazement.

as you finished, you breathed out heavily as you stared at the mess you just made in near horror. “that your first time?” zoro teased, slowly rubbing at your clit, making sure you got every last drop out. you nod your head shyly, too admit that your past boyfriends were never able to get you to cum no matter how hard you tried. “you did a good job. turn around and bend over for me.” you don’t object as you scoot off the wet surface of his desk and bend over, pressing your ass on complete display for him.

zoro slips back into you with complete ease as he rubs his hand all along the terrain of your globes, mentally preparing himself for the best nut of his life. “fuck,” he groans, heading back to his earlier pace. “can’t believe all this was hidden beneath those damn clothes.”

the sensei’s eyes trail onto your back, and he swears he feels himself grow hard inside you all over again when they trail to the large butterfly tattoo on the spine of your back. the beautiful wings fluttered open and closed with each backshot he gave you, and he couldn’t hold his composure anymore.

you nearly shudder when you feel his cold hands rub along your blue tattoo. with sex clouding your mind, you find half the energy to thrust back into him, hopefully throwing some pleasure for him as well. this sudden change in rhythm catches zoro by surprise. you’re breathing heavily as your plump cheeks move graciously against his pelvis, each thrust giving excellent recoil as he feels himself about to cum again soon. “fuck, just like that, keep going.”

it’s been a while since sensei!zoro’s had sex, and all based on his personal preference, but hell, did you make him feel like he was fucking for the first time ever again. the way your walls welcomed him and held onto him tight every time he entered and exited you took him by amazement. who knew such a shy person could fuck him so good like this?

“such a good girl,” zoro mutters, running his hand all along your body. it was unusual for him to touch someone this much during sex. he usually partook in quick hookups, not really interested in relationships in the past few years, but you were different. he found himself wanting to touch you, caress you, and even hold you, all within seven hours of meeting you.

the green haired man feels his stomach tighten up as he holds onto your waist tightly for support. anything less and he might have collapsed on top of you. “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” he breathes out. “where do you want it baby?”

you don’t even think twice about your words before you’re begging, “please, inside me, sensei. want all of it.” though you’ve been celibate for a while now, you continued taking your birth control to prevent your intolerable period pains during your cycles.

zoro smirks and abides by your wishes, eventually reaching his own peak, and fucking his hot and fresh semen into you. you two let out a string of curses as you feel him fill you up. “fucking shit, baby. so good,” he whispers, completely emptying everything he had into your womb. as he started to come down, his thrusts slowed, making sure your abused cunt caught every drop.

you’re breathing heavily against the table as your vision spins. “good girl. good fucking girl.” by the time he fully stopped, zoro rubbed down your back and ass soothingly, bringing you down from your high as well. “gonna pull out, okay?”

you nod your head, completely exhausted against his table. you winced when you felt him pull out. you’re about to stand up, but are taken aback when you feel zoro lean over to grab something and rest his hand back on your spine, lightly pushing you back down. “hold on, lemme clean you up first.” he mutters.

you don’t respond as you feel your eyes shut. you let the man take care of you as sleep nearly overcomes your vision. zoro cleans between your legs with baby wipes, occasionally pressing small kisses against the cellulite of your thighs before heading into his locker and pulling out a spare set of clothes.

you give him a small smile in appreciation, and are surprised when it fits you perfectly. zoro did like his clothes two sizes bigger than his normal. you gladly take a bottle of water from him and indulge in a few sips as he slips on his sweatpants and grabs his keys.

pressing a small kiss to your complete sweat-out edges, he pats your ass lightly before gesturing to the exit. “come on, lemme drive you home.”

923 notes · View notes

skyward-floored · 1 year

Text

Different, Yet Similar

I woke up a few days ago with this fic in my head and for some reason I was able to write it out really quick, I don’t know how that happened XD I also decided it was the perfect opportunity to try out a slightly different writing style, and while I don’t think I’ll stick with it, it was an interesting experiment anyways :)

————————————————————

“So... how did you guys all meet your Zeldas?”

Wind is the one to pose the question, said while looking around with curious eyes at the rest of the Links. Most of who now have varying expressions of surprise on their faces, the question unexpected.

“Why do you ask, sailor?” Time asks, his single eye watching him curiously. Wind shrugs, fiddling with one of the power bracelets that has taken permanent residence on his wrists. They’re good for fidgeting with, he’s found.

“I’m just curious if any of us met ours similarly or not.” His mouth turns up into a grin. “I mean, I met Tetra after she got dropped by a giant bird and got stuck in a tree. I’d bet none of you guys met yours quite like that.”

Snickers ring through the camp, though a few of the Links give the sailor mildly concerned looks as well. The nonchalance with which Wind speaks of the antics he and his princess get up to sometimes worries them.

“Was she okay?” Hyrule asks in concern, and Wind nods, waving him off with a small flick of his wrist.

“Totally fine. Tetra’s tough, it would take more than a fall from a giant bird to rattle her.”

“A giant bird?” Sky asks eagerly, perking up a little. Wind doesn’t perk up in return though, rather he cringes at the excitement in Sky’s voice.

This isn’t a giant bird like the kind Sky is used to.

“Not a nice one,” he replies, thinking back to the crimson bird that was Sky’s best friend. “Ganondorf was using the bird to kidnap girls he thought might’ve been Zelda. Tetra had been grabbed, but she got dropped because her pirate crew managed to score a hit on the bird... the Helmarok king. He wasn’t nice,” Wind finishes more quietly, an unusual dark thread of anger in his voice.

Then he sighs, and shakes off the memories, looking around at the other Links in curiosity.

“So? How’d you guys meet your Zeldas?”

“Um... which one?” Hyrule asks hesitantly, scratching his neck. He’s in the rather unique position of knowing two princesses by the name of Zelda, a fact which often confuses his traveling companions. “I kinda have two...”

“Do both,” Wild says from where he’s seated nearby, and Hyrule nods.

“Okay. Well... there’s not really much to tell, honestly. For the first Zelda, I just met her after I defeated Ganon. He’d captured her, and after I defeated him I got her out and took her back to the castle.”

Hyrule laughs a little then, and looks up at the sky, constellations just starting to come into view.

“We were both a mess when I got into the place where he’d been keeping her; I was dirty and bleeding in multiple places, and Zelda had basically been living in a dungeon for a few weeks. It wasn’t exactly polite company,” he chuckles.

The others laugh a little at Hyrule’s story, though some of them wince in sympathy at the mention of his wounds. Fights with Ganon were never easy.

They’re all aware of how powerful their greatest foe is.

“How about your other Zelda? How did you meet her?” Sky asks, and Hyrule suddenly blushes for some reason, fidgeting with his bracers.

“Well um, she’d been cursed into a long sleep by an evil wizard, so when I first saw her she wasn’t even awake,” he admits. “But after I woke her up, that’s when I actually met her.”

“And what happened then?” Legend asks with a teasing smirk, having noticed Hyrule was still blushing.

The traveler’s cheeks darken a little, but he admits to nothing. “She said thank you for waking her up.”

“And how did she say thank you?” Wind asks with a mischievous look in his storm-tossed eyes.

Hyrule blushes even darker, but still admits to nothing— though the face he’s making says an awful lot. The others really don’t need to know about the kiss he received in thanks for waking the second Zelda: he knows he’ll never hear the end of it if they do.

Hyrule manages to meet Wind’s gaze without faltering, crossing his arms with a firm look.

“With her mouth, of course. How else would she say thanks?” he says a bit haughtily, and Time decides to intervene before poor Hyrule’s face turns any redder.

“I met my Zelda in a fairly simple way,” he says, and the other Links turn to look at him, abandoning their pursuit of getting an answer out of Hyrule in favor of listening to what Time has to say. Their unofficial leader rarely gives them details of his adventures, no less his version of the princess they’re all so familiar with. “I was... about nine, I believe, maybe ten.”

He sighs, shaking his head as he thinks back to when so much of his life had abruptly changed.

“I was instructed to go see her, but they didn’t want to let a mere child in at the gate. So I snuck into the castle to talk to her, and succeeded, more than once. The guards hated that a ten-year-old could get past them without being seen,” he says with a chuckle. “They weren’t terribly good at their jobs.”

“That’s a little like how I met my version of the princess,” Twilight says thoughtfully, a hand on his chin. “‘Course I didn’t sneak into the castle, I was trying to sneak out.”

“Why, were you in the dungeon?” Legend scoffs, and Twilight smirks.

“That’s exactly it, actually.”

Legend’s face turns to one of surprise, and more laughter rings out from the Links, especially from Wild.

“I was wondering when you were gonna tell them you’re an escaped convict,” he grins at his mentor, and Twilight swats at him with a look both fond and annoyed.

“I’m not an escaped convict,” he says with an eye roll. “The enemy had overtaken the castle, they’re the ones who threw me in there. I committed no crime.”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure some of the stuff you’ve done counts as crime,” Wild cuts in again, a grin twitching at his lips. “What about the time you blew up that old—”

“Somebody else’s turn,” Twilight interrupts, putting a hand over Wild’s mouth, much to his annoyance. He’d rather wanted to be the one to tell the others about that particular incident.

“Smithy? How about you? You’re pretty good friends with your Zelda, right?” Twilight asks, ignoring the clamor of the others to elaborate.

Four nods, and a bright smile stretches across his face at the reminder of his closest friend.

“You’re right, I’ve known Zelda as long as I can remember,” Four begins as he sets aside the dagger he’d been sharpening, eyes warm. They suddenly dim a little though, and he clears his throat. “I think the first true memory I have of her was at my... a family member’s funeral.”

The other Links still as the smithy speaks, Twilight relinquishing his hold on Wild so they can both better hear. Four looks down at his hands as he thinks back to that day, but then a bit of a smile returns to his lips.

“She came because the family member knew the crown fairly well. We were the only kids there, so we ended up talking a lot... That’s when I really got to know her, and we’ve been close ever since,” he finishes quietly.

“That was similarly to how I met mine,” Sky says after a moment of silence, his voice soft. Four nods at him to continue, and Sky returns it with a bit of a smile. “I knew Zelda a little before, it was impossible not to on Skyloft. There’s not all that much space... but that was the problem when the sickness went through...”

He trails off, then shakes his head as if to clear it, hair falling in his face as he takes a steadying breath.

The memory of the death of his parents isn’t one he likes to linger on, even if it inadvertently led to him becoming friends with Zelda.

“Anyways,” Sky continues, clearing his throat, “I ended up living in the Knight’s academy before I was old enough to attend, and since Zelda lived there with her father as well, we played together all the time. It was inevitable we’d at least become friends.”

“You became a bit more than just friends though, or so I’ve heard,” Warriors says slyly, and Sky blushes as the laughter returns. The captain’s attempt at lightening the mood has succeeded.

“We... haven’t officially become anything,” Sky says simply, and the rest of them shoot each other knowing looks. It’s no secret that Sky is head-over-heels for his Zelda. It’s only a matter of time before something becomes official.

Sky looks back at Warriors then, the captain still chuckling a little over the reaction to his comment.

“You haven’t told us how you met your Zelda, captain,” he points out, and Warriors’ laughter peters off, a fond look replacing the mirth in his eyes.

“Ah, you caught me. Mine is complicated though,” he says with a slightly distant tone in his voice, and the others settle in to listen again. Warriors has mentioned more of his Zelda than some of the others, but not everything they’ve done or been through.

And while he speaks of her with nothing but professionalism, there’s a fondness in his eyes that a few of the Links have picked up on, one that speaks of a deeper bond.

One that nobody’s called him out on yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.

“I only sort of met her the first time,” Warriors begins, leaning back on the log where he’s seated. “The war had just started, and things were... complicated, to say the least. Messy. She disguised herself to keep her identity safe, so I didn’t truly meet Zelda for quite some time.”

“But when you did?” Wind asks eagerly, and Warriors chuckles.

“It was worth the wait. But I got to know her while she was disguised, so in a way... I already knew her,” he says with a bit of mystery, and Time smiles from the opposite side of the fire.

Time still remembers the day Sheik shed her disguise and revealed herself to be the princess. Warriors was so shocked he’d said something rather idiotic, and Artemis had laughed at him a bit nervously, and then the two of them had gone off to have a long overdue conversation about her true identitiy.

Time won’t bring it up though. He’ll let Warriors keep a few of his secrets yet.

“That leaves... Wild and Legend left who haven’t said anything,” Wind says after a moment, counting off on his fingers.

The two look up at their nicknames, but Wild has a slightly uncertain look in his eyes, and Legend seems oddly stone-faced. Wind looks between the two, and debates for a moment which one to ask first.

Hyrule beats him to it.

“Champion, do you... remember meeting your Zelda the first time?” Hyrule asks a bit hesitantly. The others quiet at the question, and look as one over at Wild.

They’re all aware of Wild’s memory problems, but nobody except for maybe Twilight is truly aware of the extent they reach their blank grip into the champion’s mind. He still doesn’t remember much of his old life, merely a handful of memories recovered here and there that snatch him out of the life he’s currently living, then return him just as abruptly.

But meeting Princess Zelda is not one of these.

“Nope,” Wild says lightly, somewhat in opposition to the serious mood that has fallen over the heroes. “Not at all. I have no clue how we first met... knowing what she thought of me, I probably accidentally insulted her.”

The heroes chuckle good-naturedly, and Wild waits for the sound of their laughter to fade before continuing.

“No, I don’t remember how we originally met. My first true memory of Zelda isn’t when I met her... whenever that must have been.”

A soft smile parts his lips.

“It... was her voice. Back when I was still asleep. Calling to me, urging me awake once the shrine had finally finished healing me. She guided me when there was nobody else, told me my name, and though I didn’t even remember hers... that was when I first met Zelda.”

Twilight gives his shoulder a squeeze, and Wild lets him, a look full of several conflicting emotions settling on his face.

Warmth is the one that shows itself the most though, and a ghost of a smile flits across Twilight’s face when he sees it.

“How about you, Legend? You’ve been pretty quiet,” Four asks, changing the focus to give Wild some privacy. The prickly veteran tugs his cap tighter over his hair in response, hiding a few more strands of the pink that’s still fading away.

“She called to me too,” he says, voice oddly emotionless. “Woke me up in the dead of night and asked for help, with nothing but her voice.”

Something flickers in his gaze, but it’s gone so quickly nobody can quite catch what it is.

“She guided me to the castle, and I managed to find my way to where she’d been imprisoned in her own dungeon by the forces of darkness. I freed her, and that’s where I met her,” he finishes.

“That’s it?” Wind asks in confusion, a slight tilt to his head, and Legend nods.

“That’s it.”

It’s short and to the point, and while some of the heroes nod, the others that are more aware of how their veteran works pick up on the holes in the story.

The Hero of Legend may seem sharp and fearless, but even he has weak points, moments where he has felt neither like a hero nor strong enough to ever be one. These moments he’s purposefully left out of this story, important though they may be.

These are not moments he shares freely. And especially not during what’s supposed to be a lighthearted answer to the boundless curiosity of the youngest member of their group.

“See sailor? None of us met our Zeldas the same way you did,” Legend says with a smirk, easily changing the subject, and Wind hums, looking around at the heroes as he fidgets with his bracelets again.

“That’s true. But there’s similarities between all of them,” he points out, “and some of them are really similar, like yours and Wild’s.”

“Hyrule’s second one was a bit like Wild’s too,” Twilight points out. “Just reversed.”

“And Twilight’s was kind of like the old man’s,” Hyrule mentions with a bit of wonder to his voice, and that sends the group into a flurry of comparing and contrasting the differences, debating the finer points and wondering if the similarities mean anything.

Four though, hangs back from the conversation, not as willing to discuss things. As he looks around the clearing, he notices he’s not the only one either, and he slips around the fire to where the veteran has retreated, watching the others in silence.

Sky sees him go, but doesn’t comment. He knows what the smithy is doing.

“Hey,” Four greets as he settles down, and Legend doesn’t look at him.

“You need something?” the veteran asks with a sharpness in his voice that threatens to slice Four into pieces. The smithy ignores it, well used to Legend’s prickliness, and continues to sit, watching the others keep on with their loud discussion.

“No. I just didn’t want to keep listening to... all of that,” Four says with a slight smile, watching as Wind lunges across Warriors’ lap to grab at Wild for some reason.

Legend doesn’t reply, face still stony.

Four doesn’t directly look at him, but he watches the veteran from the corner of his eyes, seeing how tightly he’s wound, how his expression is set in a way that seems to be solely for the purpose of keeping it from cracking into something vulnerable.

It’s a familiar look, one that Four’s seen on his own face. There’s a part of him that’s like that, sometimes, but that just means he knows somewhat of how to deal with it... whether Legend wants him to or not.

“It was my mother,” Four says suddenly, breaking the silence.

Legend looks over at him, a flicker of surprise joining the crease on his brow. He appears rather taken aback, and Four waits for his reply.

“What was?” the veteran asks. Four looks up at the sky for what feels like a long, long time before replying, and Legend almost wonders if he’s ever going to speak.

“The funeral where I met Zelda,” Four continues, voice full of a bittersweet pain. “It was my mother’s.”

Legend stares at him a moment, unsure of how to reply.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Four continues, still looking up. His eyes are a reddish color, hints of green and blue peeking through that allude to the emotions he’s keeping a steady control of. “I just wanted you to know... you’re not the only one who didn’t meet Zelda under the... best circumstances.”

Four continues to watch the stars, and Legend swallows, his stony indifference cracking despite his best efforts.

Legend doesn’t like to admit it, but despite how carefully he closes himself off, sometimes he’s just as expressive as Wind— what he doesn’t say actually saying more than anything he admits to. And it looks like Four, dealing with a similar pain, has seen right through him.

The veteran is silent for a long time, listening to the others laugh and carry on, and Four sits beside him in equal silence, waiting for as long as Legend needs.

“My uncle,” he whispers finally, and Four squeezes his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything more. And he doesn’t need to.

#weird ending but everything else I tried was worse XD #linkeduniverse #linked universe #all the links #lu legend #lu four #linked universe fanfic #lu fic #writing from the floor #hurt/comfort #I hate naming fics YEECH #legend angst snuck in here it wasn’t originally about him

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espiepuffs · 4 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Ortega/Kieran × "Delinquent" GN! Reader? (Delinquent with a heart of gold) 🫶

Heart of gold ♡

Pairing: Kieran x GN! Reader, Ortega x GN! Reader

Notes: Hello anon! Thank you for requesting and sorry it took so long to write up! I had so many different ideas in mind but I couldn’t figure out how to write it just the way I wanted. Nevertheless, this was a super fun idea and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Kieran

Your and Kieran’s relationship could be perfectly described as a dog owner straining to hold its feisty dog.

And Kieran’s friends (and sister) were surprised. Out of everyone Kieran could’ve possibly gotten with, you?!

See, you were infamous over at BB Academy for your violent and reckless behaviour, causing trouble for both teachers and students alike with the amount of fights you’d take part in.

But Kieran doesn’t mind that a bit! He’ll try prevent you from picking fights with people, but that can only do so much :’)

He actually looks up to you in a way, he admires you for your confidence and bravery.

Carmine was incredibly wary of you at first and would do just about anything and everything to make sure you wouldn’t harm Kieran.

She was proven wrong in so many ways though!

You were always so sweet and attentive, checking up on him and making sure he wasn’t overworking himself.

Compared to how you’d yell at others in the hallways, your voice was uncharacteristically soft spoken around him.

You’d always share your snacks with him, sometimes even bringing him food you’d made to share!

He was so much happier than before, and his eye-bags were close to non-existent at that point! Give yourself a pat on the back, you’ve done incredibly well.

(And earned Carmine’s trust, that’s even harder to do!)

He tends to be the one to patch you up after fights if you do get injured at all!

He tries to make sure you attend classes more often, if you don’t he’s disappointed.

“S/o, you need to attend classes more, otherwise you won’t learn anything and you’ll get held back like Drayton >:(”

There was a time that some students were talking bad about Kieran, picking on him for how he’d acted while he was champion.

Of course he knew that how he’d behaved wasn’t okay in the slightest, but he really was trying to change :c

When you’re with him next, you notice how downcast he is. After getting him to tell you what happened, you managed to track down and have a ‘friendly chat’ with said students!

Next thing you know, they’re profusely apologising to him the next day, and they stay out of his hair from then on.

(He isn’t completely dumb, he knows you had something to do with it, but he didn’t say anything about it, since it did benefit him in the end.)

The school also takes note of the fact that you’re involved in less fights, and you attend classes more often now!

Kieran has as much of a positive impact on you as you do on him <3

Ortega

I think that you and Ortega would go way back, even before the creation of team star. The two of you were childhood friends.

You and Ortega would be bullied by others, however you would always snap back.

Being insulted by Ortega would definitely sting, but you know what would hurt more? One of your punches <33

When you were young, your personality was hot headed and confrontational, whilst being compassionate and standing up for what you believed in.

You were incredibly good at fighting, and you’d cause a ruckus for anyone that’d do wrong.

Vandalism, violence and threats were things you weren’t afraid to do if people had decided to bully.

You’d only go so far however, knowing that two wrongs don’t make a right, to a certain extent.

You two were each other’s flint and steel, you needed each other to make sparks.

(So The rest of team star was not surprised in the slightest when you two started dating!)

It’s also no surprise that you yourself are in team star. The group aren’t really a bunch of delinquents like you may be, they’re more misunderstood.

But any companion (or partner) of Ortega’s is an immediate friend of theirs!

Also, you can pretty much skip school whenever, it’s pretty much a load off your back and you don’t have to deal with bullies at school-

(Not that there really are any left there anyways…)

Moving onto the present, seeing the two of you interact is the biggest sort of visual whiplash there is.

Ortega is known for his snide remarks, and you’re just the walking and talking form of chaos, so seeing the two of you together so calm is incredibly uncanny.

The two of you walking hand in hand, smiling and talking about fairy types could make anyone pull a double take!

With you, the boy feels very protected, it’s as if you’ve cast an aromatic mist over him!

Sometimes, Ortega does worry about your violent tendencies getting out of hand, and does try to make sure you reel it in just a tad bit, just to keep yourself out of trouble!

You would bring a lot of comfort to Ortega. He finds you to be quite a soothing person, always open to listening to what he has to say.

You don’t care about the same things people would nitpick and bully him for, you would always stand up for him in those situations, even if it meant you getting in trouble.

Over the years, the two have you have been super supportive of each other.

He’s happy that he’s the one that gets to be on the receiving end of your kindness!

The two of you are just absolutely perfect for each other- that’s one thing any and everyone in team star can agree on.

Even if you’re a violent troublemaker, and Ortega is a snarky and snappy guy, the two of you bring the best out of each other, and that’s as plain as day!

#pokémon #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #pokemon scarvi #pokemon kieran x reader #kieran x reader #pokemon kieran #ortega x reader #pokemon ortega

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Note

Do simon and bones ever get that night where they don’t have to be quiet?? And maybe simon loses himself and goes completely feral trying to pull as many noises from her as possible that make his brain melt?? 🥺

Ohhh anon. Yes, yes they do.

Love Is a Sin (Part One)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

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Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Smoking, mention of war and military lifestyle, use of weaponry, dirty talk, mask kink, size kink, tiny praise kink, cockwarming (kinda?), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, fluffies and vulnerability, secrecy, protective Ghost (I yearn). Lmk if I missed anything!

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A/N: Enjoy part one my babies! Part two gets a little darker... I'm so excited.

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

It’s not often that you find yourself here, this is actually your first genuine invitation. Any other reason was to simply grab materials for a craft or files from a desk. And whenever you did that, it was by yourself. Because when the boys were in here, those doors were locked tight, their voices a muted drone in the halls. No one was allowed access into the debriefing room unless given specific clearance from Price.

“Grab a seat.” The man of the hour speaks, motioning toward the table.

They’re already gathered around the captain’s spread of plans, all three of them. And when Price speaks to you, each and every one of their heads turn, eyes and brows moving with bewilderment. None of them knew you were attending this meeting, not even Ghost.

His eyes, above anyone else’s, widen. No one moves for a moment, not until Simon stands. Rising to his feet, he towers over every man, brows narrowing before he turns, grabbing one of the folding chairs leaning against the wall. With a quick jerk of his hand, the chair unfolds into its natural position. And then, he’s setting it down beside his own seat, lowering himself once again.

Johnny cocks an eye at his somewhat gentlemanly act, and although it’s done with sweet intention, you can practically feel Simon’s aversion to your presence. You knew this would upset him.

“Uncharted territory.” Price declares, a single, thick finger slamming down onto the map. “And that’s why we need her.” That finger is then directed at you. And as each man turns their head, you don’t feel intimidation, but pride, swelling within you.

But your partner, on the other hand, finds his insides rotting with disapproval. They knew where they’d be going, they knew what they’d be risking, but they had no idea they’d have to bring you. But aside from Simon, everyone there seemed thrilled.

“Finally get to see what yer all about.” Soap grins, giving you a rather rough pat on the back.

Gaz smiles, leaning onto the table with his forearms. “She knows what she’s doing.”

“Damn right.” And when you look up, Price is beaming with pride. He brought you to the base for a reason; he always knew you’d be a reliable member. “She’s the best we’ve got, and we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

All this talk and Simon’s head hasn’t turned once, his eyes fixed completely on you. His stare is almost blank, lost, void of emotion as he begins to dissociate from this. Before you, only his family had gotten so close to him. And even now, you’re more important to him than they ever were. He’s never let himself get so wrapped up in this type of thing, an actual relationship. And now he’s going to be bringing you with him? He’s never even so much as trained with you. You’re not ready for this, and neither is he. But your unpreparedness is clearly developing in different ways.

“Ghost.”

Snapping his gaze toward the captain, he jostles his head. “Yeah?”

“We’re gonna need your head in the game for this one.”

“Always.”

And just like that, you’re running through the plans. No man’s land, disputed ground between your team and the enemy. Many squadrons have been deployed and just as many have died. With the team specializing in infiltration, counter-terrorism and covert assignment, they were the next group to be tasked with the mission. This wasn’t going to be a simple assignment.

But honestly, you’re not here for any of that. You don’t specialize in any type of infiltration or counter-terrosim techniques. Right now, you’re a medic, and with the zone they’re invading, Price wants you on deck in case anyone gets hurt. They have a better chance of making it through if they have someone that can quickly wrap up a wound. It also helps that you have experience in the field, but both physically and mentally. Before becoming a medic, and now lead medic at the base, you specialize in close quarter combat and weapons tactics, traits Price found just as valuable. He knows you won’t hold them back.

Simon knows all of this, he knows better than anyone just how good you are at this. But you’ve never experienced this kind of warfare, and he doesn’t want you to witness it. He also doesn't want you to witness the kind of man he is during it.

“We’re due to set off tomorrow evening. We’ll use the cover of night to be dropped in over the mountains, where we’ll then hike. It’s about a twenty kilometer trek from there to the safe house. There, we’ll get our rest, reconvene and set out for the building.”

Sliding his finger to one portion of the map, he displays the safe house’s location. Continuing to move, he then shows just how close the targeted building is.

Price’s voice dips dangerously low when he explains, “Only eight kilometers away.”

“How is it a safe house if it’s that close to enemy lines?” Soap asks, twisting his face in confusion.

“The enemy has yet to infiltrate that forest, they know nothing of its ground or the layout. They wouldn’t risk crossing uncharted territory just to explore a piece of land they aren’t interested in. Besides, the house is surrounded by landmines and snares, something we’ll need to pay attention to and avoid.”

With emphasis on his last word, those deep baby blues then drift to Gaz, who’s trying to duck away like some embarrassed tortoise. “I know, I know.” The team remembers Gaz’s mistake far too well, tossing a rock to test the space before nearly blowing himself to bits.

“Any other questions?”

About a million, though he doesn’t say it. They all revolve around you, anyway.

“Right.” Slapping a hand against the table, he then stands. “We’re clear to move out tomorrow evening, eighteen hundred hours. Am I clear?”

“Clear.” The three men proclaim in unison, prompting you to jump slightly in your seat. And Ghost chuckles.

“C-Clear.” You repeat, feeling foolish doing so by yourself.

Price grins, giving you a cheeky wink. He knows you’ll fit in given the right amount of time. “Night lads.” Your captain then states, giving you a nod. “And lass.”

Everything feels thick and heavy - your clothes, the air, the shaft invading your most intimate space. His sighs are full of spearmint and tobacco, hints of his cologne floating up to your nose. Every sense feels invigorated, the emotions of embarrassment and exposure melting away just from being in his presence. Simon calms you, he grounds you.

“Christ,” His breaths come out in humid puffs, seeping out through the top crack of the window. It intermingles with the nighttime air, the darkening atmosphere as it fades to dusk. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Bulky arms wrap around your midsection, one hand dipping down to fist your ass. It’s then that you feel him pulse against your walls, prompting a delighted sigh from your throat.

“I think I know.” Your sultry voice responds, hips moving gracefully over his pelvis. But your breaths are still heavy, enjoying the cool breeze that occasionally drifts in. And those heavy wafts of air soak into his neck when you lean in, running your lips over his ear. “I think I know exactly what I do to you.”

Those sweetly sinful words give the allusion of rough and quick sex, all teeth and tongue and torn clothes. But that’s not what this is about, not right now, not at all. It’s passionate, sensual, but slow and needy, too. Your motions are relaxed, Simon’s hands encouraging the gradual roll of your hips. And when you’re not speaking to him, or him to you, you’re lifting yourself up to his mouth. Here, the tips of your tongues touch, just barely dancing together as you tease one another, before inevitably falling back down to mouth tenderly at his neck.

“You’re so fucking good,” He praises, thick fingers pressing into your backside as he pants briefly. “Give me more, oh, god… more.”

Rocking his hips upward, he meets your sensual rolls, finding unison with you. From the moment you crawled onto his lap in the backseat of his Jeep, his eyes were on you, on your pretty face and every expression you make. Even now, he reaches out, cupping your cheek and bringing you down to him with a gentle force that screams Simon.

His mouth consumes your own, his entire tongue sliding inside while his moan vibrates down your throat. It’s then that he twitches against your delicate channel, gasping into your mouth, breathing in your air. Holding you down on his lap, he forces you to still, now choosing to thrust up.

“Simon,”

“God,” He groans, shoving himself up into your center over and over again. And at this point, it’s a familiar feeling, the sensation of being overly full, stretched to your limit and still wanting more. “Love it when you say my name.”

Leaning backward against the seat, he urges you to put your weight on his chest, planting his feet on the floor of the car to gain better leverage. Here, he punches himself into your sex, reveling in the way it squeezes hotly around him.

“Fucking C-Christ.”

The Jeep rocks from the force of it, your collective moans spilling out into the nighttime air. But neither of you are worried. You’d found this spot to be particularly secluded, even from the constant patrols. Parked amongst the trees with the car off, at nearly midnight, seemed to be your new routine. It was the closest you could get to feeling free.

“Take it off.” Your Lieutenant then requests, one hand lifting to your chest.

He palms you roughly, slowing the action down as he then decides on a tender rub; he wants to show you how gentle he can be. So, while considering both his actions and words, he moves carefully, speaks gently. “Can I see?”

“Mhm,” With a wide grin, you nod, glancing down to undo the front of your quarter zip. The easiest way to give him access is to guide your sports bra up and over the tops of your breasts, exposing yourself to him.

“Oh,” Ghost groans, ducking his head into the crook of your neck. “Lovely.” He says it as his hand returns, doing his best to not let the material of his glove scratch you too rough.

Your lover’s touch has grown quite accustomed to your feminine features, your smooth skin, your most delicate places. Instead of running over it with quick motions, his thumb touches your nipple gently, just barely rubbing tiny circles into it. And he listens to your breath, too. The lungs give everything away.

“Baby, please…”

“What d’you want, love?” Mumbling into your neck, he kisses it, loosening his grip and allowing you to move again. And instantly, you do, wrapping your arms around his neck and bouncing down onto him.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Now that your shirt is open, it leaves you vulnerable to the roughness of his tac vest. And it scratches you harshly, zippers and velcro scraping across your sensitive skin. But in truth, you like it. It’s almost like another mark he can give.

“Fuck, those whimpers… that’s gonna make me bust right inside.”

Regardless of your place in the woods, you still have to keep yourself quiet. You and Simon have yet to have a night where you can fully be yourselves, where you can fully indulge in each other. This has been the closest thing to it.

“S-Simon,” Your voice is light, airy and shaky. And you’re clinging to him for dear fucking life, because not only has he matched your fervent pace, he’s exceeded it. “Baby.”

“Take it,” He nearly growls, “Take it in your tight cunt.”

The muscles lining your insides flutter from his words, from his brute force. Sex with Simon was always so passionate, so intimate; it was a different type of experience. And you’ve fully leaned into it since the first night you got to experience him.

“Fucking hell, princess, I can feel it. You’re gonna cum on me.” And he really can; your velvety center pulsing around him, around the thick intrusion repeatedly splitting you open.

But the way he says it almost embarasses you, and he chuckles when you duck down to hide your face from him. Smooshing your cheeks against his neck, your quiet grunts come with his every thrust.

“C’mon, baby.” He coos with a grin, encouraging you. And something about Simon using the word baby makes you absolutely swoon. “Like it when you cum on me… you know that.”

It’s then that you finally give in, a sense of pleasure bursting from your lower pelvis and reaching into every limb. The entire sensation is a true release, mentally and physically. Both of his hands find your backside as he rides you through it, squeezing harshly while your pelvis ruts over him, your entire body trembling.

“That’s it…” Eyes rolling back, he drops his head against the seat’s headrest. But his hold on you hasn’t given up just yet.

His own euphoria shoots from his insides when your fingernails find him, digging into his skin. Your slender digits scratch at his neck, at the tendons between his throat and shoulder, and it just fucking sends him.

Ghost has gotten quite comfortable releasing inside you. The two of you had forgone condoms fairly quickly. And in the beginning, it was due to the rush of things, the need to have the other right then and there, or at least, as soon as you could. But now, it’s for the feeling, the intimacy. There’s really nothing else like it. In truth, he always hated the latex barrier when it came to you.

Shivering briefly, you release an affectionate breath, a shaky inhale before cuddling into him. Used to this reaction by now, both of those bulky arms wrap around your back, holding you against his chest. He finds it endearing, your need for closeness, especially as the two of you come down.

Smoothing a hand over your head, he kisses the top of it, rumbling to you in that deep, entrancing voice, “You’re so good for me.”

And he means it in more ways than this. Truly, you bring out the niceness in him, whatever amount of it he has left. The longer you and Simon stayed together, the more you connected, the more you felt like you could really do this. Your relationship could be sustainable, and you could be vulnerable.

Every chance Simon got, he took to your side. In the training yard, he’d lift weights adjacent to your station. In the cafeteria, he always saved you a seat next to him. And in the debriefing room, he pulled up a chair for you beside him. And while the two of you were busy gravitating towards each other, your teammates were busy with eyeing your movements. It was starting to look suspicious.

“You alright, love?”

Even when he’s done, and his breaths have steadied, he rests inside you. He did this often, especially when you rode him. While your need for closeness was expressed with words, his was expressed with actions. And this action, was one of his favorites.

“Mhm,” Grinning, your eyes shut, your body weight resting comfortably on his chest. Removing your arms from around his neck, they instead loop around his wide midsection, hugging him.

He’d been trying to ignore the issue at hand, the issue that’s only an issue to him. And while you riding him was more than a good enough distraction, now, he was now in his head again. Feeling you wrap your arms around him softens something inside his heart, and now more than ever, he wants to keep you protected.

With a small grunt, he shifts, arms lifting behind your back. Listening closely, you can hear the velcro separating on his hand, and then the drop of a single glove onto the seat to your left. Simon’s warmth then envelopes your chest, the slow drag of his naked hand across your breasts. He caresses them fondly, before focusing on the right.

“Didn’t get to enjoy these much.” Your soldier murmurs, cupping your tit and pushing it up toward his waiting mouth.

Lips, warm and wet, wrap around your nipple, sucking softly on it. His palm is warm, fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. It’s his favorite part of you, after all. He knew it before even seeing their bare skin.

“Hm…” Reaching up to the back of his head, you release a relaxing breath. Your head drops back as you cradle him against your chest, feeling the passionate massage he begins to give them. “Love this, Si…”

“Mm,” He moans in response, eyes closing as he enjoys you.

He feels surrounded by you, and you by him. Resting like this together feels so special, almost sacred. You crave it. A profound sense of longing fills you, and you feel foolish, because he’s right here. He’s here with you and still, you can’t get enough.

Sliding your hands around to his cheeks, your head turns as you lean in. Lips press sweetly to his second skin, the black fabric covering his temple. And it makes him chuckle quietly, kissing the slope of your breast.

“Like my mask?”

“Mhm,” Your lips curl into a devilish grin while pressing against him, holding his head even closer to you.

“Do you…” With a deep breath, he lifts his head, eyes finding you. “Do you ever wish you could see my face?”

With this question, you still, looking at him with a quietly shocked expression. Swallowing, you think before speaking, knowing that your words need to be respectful and calculated. But it only takes one for a decent response that can also be truthful.

“Yes.”

Just barely nodding, Simon’s heart pounds inside his chest. Now that he knows this, he feels like he’s disappointed you.

“But I know you don’t want to show me.” You continue, surprising him. “And that’s okay.”

And you think this is the most innocent those deep brown eyes have ever looked. His brows raise beneath the mask, taken aback by your reaction.

“It really is, Si.” And your sweet smile capitalizes on your sentiment.

Your presence in Simon’s life, the grace you give him, it all still astounds him. Some six months later and still, you continue to bring purpose to his life every single day. He hasn’t quite realized it, but that’s exactly how he sees it.

Without another word spoken, his hand rises to the back of your head, bringing you down for a passionate kiss. Your own hands slide down to his jaw, petting lightly at the blonde stubble he has. And you count yourself lucky he’s even let you see that.

“Want a smoke with me?” Simon asks against your lip, nipping at your lower one when you grin.

“Sure, baby.”

Shifting onto one side of his hip, he grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket before settling back onto the seat. With one item going to his lips, the other is held up to you, quick to be taken by one of your hands. It’s endearing when he does this, silently asking for a bit of help, even if it’s as small as this.

His face, the features you’ve been allowed to see, light up from the small fire. The quiet sizzle of the joint hums in this small lull before he takes a breath in, fingers grabbing the end. Turning, he releases the smoke into the air, feeling your hand drop the lighter onto the seat beside him. And while this hushed pause should resemble a sense of peacefulness, it prompts a certain worry inside you.

“Si?”

“Yeah?” When his eyes return to you, they’re squinted slightly, eyebrows furrowed. But not in anger or annoyance. What’s bothering him?

“Are you okay?” Lifting your hand, you lay it over his cheek, fingertips brushing over that black mask. “You seem…quiet. Quieter than normal.” And your small poke at him makes both of you grin.

With a sigh, he lifts the cig, offering it to you and then watching you take it. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes when he says, “Don’t know how I feel about you tagging along, sweets.”

Without meaning to, he questions your abilities, the same abilities you’ve trained for years to gain. But you take his comment better than he expected.

“Yeah?” You chuckle, raising a brow as you tease, “Afraid I’ll show you up?” Another puff and you’re handing it back to him, curious about what’s going on inside that skull.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that.” Casually, he shakes his head, inhaling on his pass. “Place we’re going is… it’s not a place for you to be.”

“I know it’s dangerous, Si. That’s why I’m going, so I can help you guys.” You knew it, you fucking knew he’d have an issue with you coming. You just weren’t sure how deep that worry was.

And now, he’s silent for a minute, a long minute. Looking away from your gaze, those deep eyes wander to the window, searching for the right words to say. Something along the lines of… “Just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Awe…” Again, you’re teasing, poking fun to avoid the real conflict. Neither of you want to have a serious conversation, not when your entire life is one giant critical discussion. But you have to admit, you like seeing this side of him.

Leaning in, you nuzzle his temple, your voice turning quiet and sweet. “I like it when you’re soft with me, big boy. Makes me feel like you care.”

“‘Course I do.”

And when you snuggle even further into him, his eyes close, a heavy breath released from his nose. It’s a silent response, his body reacting to your genuine adoration for him. He makes sure to keep his head still, wanting you to continue the loving motion. And you do, reveling in the way his arm returns to circle around you.

It’s not about him doubting you, it’s about him protecting you. He knows you can handle yourself, and he found that incredibly attractive when you first met. But now? He just wants to keep you safe, make sure you stay on base and never have to see combat again. But Price was the one to call the shot this time.

On the other hand, Ghost is also worried about the team. Specifically, he’s worried about them discovering your relationship. No one knows about the two of you except for Johnny, and neither of you want anyone else to find out. And if you somehow get hurt out there, his emotions are sure to expose themselves. There’s not a single chance his affection for you won’t show, his angry and possessive nature sure to shine through. After that, they’re bound to figure it out.

“I’ll be with you,” Comes your gentle response. “How could I ever get hurt when I’m with you?”

Sweet, he thinks. But it’s not enough to reassure him.

The helo ride is easy, nothing that gives you jitters in any sort of way. The only thing you wish was different, was the view - there isn’t one. The entire ride is done with complete cover, not a window in sight as you all sit in the far back, strapped to your seats and waiting to be told otherwise.

Johnny had insisted you hunker down with him, he honestly wants to get to know you a bit more. Especially now that you’re dating his best friend. He also wanted to distract said friend; Simon needs to keep his head on straight. But Ghost wasn’t having any of that. Not because he was worried Soap would make a move, but because he promised himself you wouldn’t be leaving his side for even a second throughout this trip.

While sitting beside each other, you find yourself wanting him, yearning for his touch, to lean against his shoulder or even hold his hand. But the closest you two settle for is the touching of your knees. Around the boys, you manspread just like them. So, while leaning back in your seat, you do just that. And of course, Simon doesn’t move an inch. He likes your need for touch, it matches his quite nicely. It might even make him smile beneath his mask.

“Drop point,” Price announces, “Comin’ up fast.”

And upon command, the four of you release your buckles, standing to correct your straps. Simon eyes you from his peripheral as you adjust your vest, leaning down to check the pistol in your thigh holster and then the one secured to your stomach. He finds it attractive, watching you train your knowledge of weapons. But he shakes those thoughts out of his head. Right now, he’s making sure the way you’re loading them is correct.

Hovering above the designated location, each of you approaches the sliding door. Once Price tosses the rope down, he’s the first one on it, landing on the ground with a firm thud and immediately securing the area. Then, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. You’re last, and it’s for your best interest. It gives you the advantage of watching them, taking notes on how to do this. And when you finally secure your gloves and grab hold of the rope, you look to them on the ground. But it’s not the team you find. Grinning, your eyes immediately lock, his trained on you beneath that stoic mask. He’s standing at the bottom, staring up and waiting for you. And all he wants to do is tell you to stay, or at the very least, catch you. But all he can do is watch as you slide down, restraining himself from wrapping his arm around you once you’re on the ground.

His Reckoner gear is menacing, though his attire usually is. The black jacket matches the shawl slung loosely around his neck, draping down onto his chest. Shielding him from the rapidly growing winds is his outfit’s hood, tight around his head and mask. You find yourself favoring this look, so dark and mysterious. It’s how you first saw him when you met. And you’re dressed similarly, your entire outfit made up of black and gray canvas, a scarf around your neck and gloves on your hands, with your own hood up, too.

Only a small part of you tries to separate yourself from him, but it doesn't reach surface level, not even close. Regardless of wanting to hide your relationship, you stick to each other like glue. Taking his position at the rear of the group, he makes sure to keep his strides in line with you, matching your pace expertly as you continue forward.

The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, and again, you find yourself longing for him. With a devious thought creeping into your mind, you let your hand fall to your side, wandering further enough to swipe your pinky across his thumb.

“Think you’re ready for this?” A deep, Scottish accent suddenly asks.

Jumping sharply, your hand instantly flinches away from your lieutenant. “W-What?”

“Bit jumpy, there?”

Smirking, you roll your eyes, hands grabbing the straps of your vest. “I’m just fine, Johnny.” And then, you nod, feigning an air of smugness. “What about you?”

“Born ready, sweetheart.”

Ghost huffs. “Born a pretty boy.” But even he’s grinning as he says it.

“Fuckin’ grump,” Soap teases, walking backward and just ahead of you two so he can continue talking. “We’re only an hour in.”

“And still needing to secure our position.” Dad - Price, snaps, reminding Soap to keep his voice down.

At this, Johnny’s eyes widen, his body jerking around before jogging forward to catch up with the rest of the group. You chuckle at his reaction, but Ghost doesn’t make another sound as you continue. He’s too busy with his own thoughts to converse with you.

Flurries of snow buzz around your covered heads, sticking to the fabric of your scarves, the hairs of your eyelashes and the scruff on the boys’ chins. It brings about a certain childlike bliss, a winter wonderland in the midst. Smiling innocently at the beautiful landscape around you, those joyful emotions soon dissipate alongside your captain’s voice.

“Ice ahead.” He declares, signaling for the rest of you to ready yourselves. And with a deep breath, that’s just what you attempt to do.

“Grab your ice axe.” Simon murmurs, twisting around to grab his own.

“I know.” You sass, reaching back for the tools in your pack.

Easily, he dismisses your attitude. All he wants is for you to be prepared, adding on, “A bundle of rope, too.

Approaching the mountain, you ready yourself. Almost as if staring a beast in the eye, you stand flat on your feet, staring up at the vast landscape. It’s intimidating, this imposing piece of nature. Familiar winds sweep across the rocky edges, brushing the snow from its various levels. And beneath it lay thick layers of ice, sheet after sheet sliding down the summit’s side.

“You and I can go first, get to the top fast as we can.” Simon decides, planting a hand on your lower back and ushering you toward the front of the group.

“Why?”

“Let’s go.” Easily, Simon pushes his way forward, right beside you.

His added attention to your every move is noticeable within the group. And honestly, it’s starting to irritate you. To an extent, it’s insulting, especially in front of the other men. But you need to focus on the task at hand, and that doesn’t include any of your emotions about him.

Reaching up, a small grunt is released as you swing your pick, digging it into the ice. And once Simon is sure you have your footing, he starts up right alongside you. He’s below your stance and slightly to your right, watching your steps while trying to keep his own in check. But to his surprise, you’re doing fairly well for your first time. The burn in your muscles is nothing compared to the determination to prove Price right. He won’t regret bringing you on this mission.

However, repeatedly hoisting your body up while trying to find your footing is becoming increasingly difficult as you go on, gravity beginning to weigh heavy against your body. Every step is met with a disgruntled groan or grunt, with Ghost’s echoing below you. Eventually, you start to hear the rest of the team’s noises, each man climbing up at their own pace.

“You alright, lass?”

“Ye-ah,” Comes your breathy response, releasing an airy laugh. “This isn’t so h–hard.”

You’re speaking as you climb, with every other word coming out between some type of guttural noise. And further beneath your feet, Johnny laughs in return.

“McTavish, watch your footing.” Price chides, his voice hurried and a bit frantic. It startles you. “McTavish!”

Breaking open your seemingly sound world is the sudden cracking of ice, your eyes going wide. The sound of frozen water splitting between the five of you echoes along the summit’s climb, and soon after, your teammates’ yells, too.

“Soap!”

Glancing down, you barely have time to react before Ghost is barking at you. “Head up!”

Instantly, your head snaps upward, breaths labored as worry consumes you. Your ears ring with the sudden spike of adrenaline forcing blood through your veins, heart pumping from the appearance of your base instincts.

“Keep going!” He continues to shout, “That’s an order, Bones!”

With everything in you, you want to look down, especially when you hear the boys’ continuation of panicked shouts. But beside you, Ghost’s movements pick up, your own now excelling forward, too.

Simon’s chest heaves beside you as he scrambles up the side of the mountain, your movements now just as fast. Stab after stab, you hurl your arms upward against the ice, forcing the axe into the thick sheets.

“S-Simon.”

“Keep going.” Is all he says, all he’s able to say.

And in the blink of an eye, you’re at the top curve. Simon hauls himself over the side, immediately leaning over the cliff’s edge to reach for your hand.

“Take it! Take it now!”

“Price!” Gaz yells in the distance, a heavy thud heard at the bottom of the cliff.

“John.” You barely whimper, thinking the worst has come.

The firm grip of your lieutenant’s hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, yanking you up and over the edge. You land on your stomach with a hard unff, Simon’s hand now settling over your lower back. He can’t see anything, a thick dusting of snow covering the lower half of their climb. For a moment, he thinks about yelling, but chooses to flick on his comms instead.

“Price?” He questions into the mic, eyes searching frantically for any one of them. “Soap?”

“We’re here.”

“What the bloody hell happened?”

“Wrong, wrong move.” Johnny huffs through the link. “Ice cracked, Price fell. Me shortly after; Gaz was still close to the ground.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Just a bit.” Price finally answers, and this is when you move to sit up. But Simon’s firm hand on your back keeps you down. “I’ll be fine, just a sore back.”

“Orders?” Now that he knows no one is severely injured, he needs to know the team’s next moves. He is second in command, after all.

“Simon?” Again, you try to push yourself up, but the pressure he applies becomes firmer, his fingers curling into your jacket.

“Stay.” He demands, his voice dark and stern. If you were anyone else, you’d think it was a warning.

“We’ll have to trek around, but…” Trailing off for a moment, the captain finishes with, “It’ll add a day to our hike.”

A moment of silence passes, and Simon leans away from the cliff, settling beside you. Finally, he lets you up, turning his head as he watches you gather your bearings beside him.

“Hike on,” Price decides. “Secure the safe house, we’ll be a day behind. This path is lost.”

“No reconvene?” Ghost clarifies, wondering if the team should get their heads on straight after being separated like this. And upon this suggestion, Price grows silent in thought.

“Setting up camp would be smart. Give us a rest, some time to calm down and gather ourselves.” He finally agrees, then declaring, “We’ll stay for the night; right thinking, Ghost. We’re to be up and moving no later than dawn, am I clear?”

“Clear. I’ll expect your comms in twenty-four.”

“Affirmative. Bravo Six, out.”

With that, Simon stands, your eyes trailing up his large figure while he adjusts his gear. Labored breaths continue to form within your lungs, now stung from the harsh winter air.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re heading off on our own.” Your partner confirms, brushing the snow from his pants.

“How are they? Is anyone hurt?” The comms transferred to his earpiece, you were only able to hear his responses.

“Nothing severe, they’re choosing a different path. It’ll add a day, but Price wants us to continue on.” Tilting your head, your curious expression prompts further information from him. “We’ll make camp for the night though, give us time to rest.”

“And then what?”

“We’ll locate and secure the safehouse, wait for them to arrive.” Leaning down, he holds a hand out, helping you up once you take it. “You alright?”

Now that you’re alone, he grabs your shoulders, rubbing them for both comfort and warmth. “You’re shivering.”

“Just cold.” Shrugging, you brush it off as just that, feeling chilly. Though, it’s partially due to shock, and Simon knows it. It’s been more than five years since you were last in the field; maybe you weren’t fully ready for this.

“You’re alright, love.” Guiding you to his chest, he sighs, holding the back of your head. “No one’s hurt.”

All you do is nod against him, pulling up your big girl pants and shoving aside your emotions. He’s right, everything’s fine, just a small bump in the road.

“We should make camp.” He suggests, the surrounding scenery darkening as he speaks.

Your current location is far enough away to make a small fire and not draw any attention from the targeted enemy. So naturally, it’s the first thing Simon does, right after finding a small patch of brush for you to set the tent. It’s a small thing, just barely big enough to fit one man. But neither of you mind squeezing inside together. You don’t have sleeping bags, but what you do have are Mylar thermal blankets. Which will have to do, and are actually useful in these situations.

“Bones.” Ghost quietly calls, and when you look over your shoulder, you find him huddled near the fire. He then jerks his head to the side, beckoning for you. “Cm’over here.”

While rubbing your hands together, you make your way over to him, sitting down by the little fire he’s built. It’s enough to bring you warmth, though, the pulsing embers doing wonders for your frozen appendages.

“Any better?”

“A little better.” With your hands outstretched toward the flames, you nod, eyes trained on the wispy bits of fire floating through the wind.

Upon your response, he scooches closer, positioning himself behind you. Here, he spreads his legs, laying them on either side of your own and pulling you in between them, right up against his chest. You smile as he drags you back, allowing him to hold you between his legs. His cold, covered chin then finds your shoulder, both arms wrapping around your midsection.

Rumbling to you quietly, he asks again, “Any better?”

The smile on your face burns brighter than the fire. “A lot better.”

Shifting slightly, you relax into his body, basking in the fact that you can so openly cuddle up together. And when he feels your entire weight fall into him, he hums, kissing your shoulder through the mask. He’s become such an affectionate man around you.

Inside, your heart beats for him. Thinking back to the scenario on the cliff, you replay Simon’s protective acts in your head. His verbal directions, both before and during the event, his physical motions of pulling you up to safety and then keeping a hand on your back.

“Si?”

“Hm?” He returns, mouth full of a protein bar. While you ponder your question, he hands you one, too.

“Why did you hold me down? By my back?”

He chews his food much slower now, thinking. Never before has he thought through his responses so thoroughly before meeting you. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing; he’s quite frightened of it, actually.

“Didn’t know if anyone was hurt.” He eventually returns, and you’re confused until he finishes his statement. “Didn’t want you seeing something like that.”

And while you appreciate the meaning behind his actions, it prompts a certain fear within you. He can’t continue to fight your battles for you, not when you’re out in the field. He has to be himself, not a modified version just because you’re here. He can’t be Simon, he has to be Ghost. And still, you can’t help but feel grateful for him, all of him.

“Thank you.”

The day was cold but the night was frigid, your thermal blankets doing little to shield you from the frozen hell you were in. What helped build heat beneath the metallic blankets, though, were your bodies. It was Simon who suggested it, and you didn’t think twice once he did. There was nothing sexual behind it, only concern and genuine care.

As soon as you were at his side, huddled within the tent, his arms snaked tightly around your stomach. Naked beneath the crinkly cover, Simon hugged you to his body, not only for heat but for comfort. His masked face easily found its way to your neck, body curling around yours like a protective outer shell. And in this way, he warmed you, inside and out.

Feeling Simon’s naked body served to bring you a sense of relaxation you didn’t think you’d find on this mission. Being able to sleep beside him was also an incredibly relieving act you didn't think you’d get to experience while deployed. Now that it’s just the two of you, you’re free to bask in each other’s company, reveling in the sweet way your souls connect. It’s not just about physical attraction for you two, not anymore. What you have is chemical. You’ve become each other’s best friend - companions; it’s just natural for you to be together. Even like this, pressed against each other in complete nakedness without an ounce of sexual intention in the air, it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, not for either of you. Those bulky forearms nestled right beneath your breasts, feeling the smooth curves lay against him. And his flaccid length pressed against your backside, his strong hold keeping you nice and close throughout the night. Neither of you cared. There wasn’t room for insecurity between the two of you, not after all you’ve been through.

“You’re my girl.” Simon whispered to you, mask lifted just enough for him to kiss your ear.

His eyes were closed as he spoke, body tired and sore and lulling him to sleep. But not before murmuring, “You’re mine; mine to keep.”

But that was last night. This morning isn’t so sweet.

While Simon continued to display his ever-growing and extremely doting personality, the weather was still acting like a petty bitch. Wild winds surged through your small camp when you awoke, gathering your things once dawn hit the sky. Simon stamped out the fire, you packed up the tent, and off you went.

“How much farther is it again?”

“About twelve kilometers.”

The dramatic groan you exude makes his lips curl beneath the mask, eyes turning to witness your adorably irritated face.

“C’mon,” He teases, that smirk revealed through his tone. “You can make it.”

“Can I borrow your mask?” You then ask, a grin curling on your lips.

Rolling his eyes, they land on you, an unamused expression swirling within them.

“Look, you’re being stingy with it.” Continuing with your charade, you then add, “It’s freezing out here. My cheeks are getting all chapped.”

At this, he huffs out a single laugh. “Looks pretty damn cute to me.”

It’s interesting, you think. All of this started with you making fun of his mask, and now, you adore it. You adore him.

Both of you are thankful for the common knowledge of swift and silent movement as you trek on through the harsh, mountainous terrain. The quicker you get there, the quicker you’re able to rest. Price mentioned that the cabin even had heat and running water, a true reprieve for you all. At least, for the time being. Besides, you can’t get too carried away just yet. You still have to secure the area before enjoying it.

“Looks to be a bit easier from here.” Ghost announces, coming to stand on top of a ridge you haven’t yet arrived at. But when you do, you’re met with flat, snowy terrain.

“Thank god.”

“C’mon, hasn’t been that hard.”

And he’s right. Aside from that icy cliff incident, this hike has been a piece of cake. Nothing to complain about on your end, really; messing with Simon was just fun sometimes. He always fell for your antics, too. Something about you acting weak and frail just made him want to care for you. And that’s something you’d never protest.

Walking with you was nice and easy; you understood him and his preference for silence. It’s a trait you both shared. Why speak if there’s nothing to be said?

“Have we got a plan?” Simon then says, deciding this is something that should definitely be said.

“About?”

“The safe house, how we’re going to secure it.”

“Well, I don’t really have any experience in searching for and disarming traps. I think that’s on you, buddy.”

“Yeah?” Buddy, it makes him chuckle. “And what will you do?”

“Cover your six?” It’s a suggestion; you can still be helpful. “I can scope out the treeline, make sure Price was right about enemies not crossing over the lines.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.”

And what a good plan it was. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine as soon as you arrived at the safe house, finally reaching your destination in the early evening. Either you just work well together, or you were simply eager for some rest. Likely both.

“Scanning.” Keeping your eye on the surrounding treeline, you speak into your comms, listening to Ghost rustle through the brush not too far off in the distance. “Movement.”

“Friendlies?” Ghost immediately returns, fidgeting with something on his head. You can hear it through your small speaker, assuming he’s handling a trip-wire.

Upon further inspection, you release the tight breath you’d been holding. “Deer.”

“Copy.” He returns, going about his given task.

Knowing you have his back makes his job that much easier. And if he’s being completely honest, seeing you with a gun in your hand, your expert eye skimming the treeline, it was attractive. Turned him on, actually, as much as he needed to focus he just couldn’t help it. He admires your work ethic. Even when he had watched your body climb up the sheets of ice, he admired it, eyeing the way your muscles twisted and flexed beneath the canvas of your pants, the way he could see right up between your legs. It’s a wonder he didn’t get even a semi while climbing. But he’s thankful you hadn’t distracted him to that extent.

“Clear.” Simon grumbles into the comms, “Moving south.”

Shifting in the trees, you stay adjacent to him, watching his figure from behind. You’re ready to face any possible enemies, but are thrilled to find this portion of the job has been just as easy as the rest.

“Clear.” He then repeats, finalizing his task. “Moving in.”

Desperately, he wants to relax, find his way inside and just be for a moment. Price said there’d be heat and running water, and Christ, is he looking forward to that.

“Bones?”

“Copy.”

“You following?”

“Coming in.” You confirm, walking up from behind, your position still crouched and eyes zeroed in on the treeline.

Walking into the clearing toward the small home, you almost feel naked, exposed. Every step you make is in Ghost’s footprint, following his every movement to avoid the traps. And once Ghost is on the wooden steps at the front, you glance over your shoulder, taking one last look at the perimeter.

“C’mon,” Simon almost coos, fatigue seeping into his voice. “We’re clear, love.”

Typing in the code Price had given him, Simon unlocks the door and with a harsh nudge, makes his way in. The house is made up of one central room, a side bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen space. In the living area is a single couch, and further in the bedroom you see a mattress. Hopefully something to help Simon’s back.

“Might hear a bit of noise,” Simon says, walking off toward the kitchen. “I’m kicking on the furnace.”

“That is fine by me.” Breathing out a sigh of relief, you let your body fall onto the couch, dropping your pack to the floor. “I could use some warmth.”

An abrupt thud rattles the baseboards as the rusty furnace burns to life, a small whoosh of dust fluttering from the vents. The soot briefly filling the air disturbs your lungs, a small bout of coughs overcoming you. But for Simon, it does nothing, his mask guarding him from any of the pollen-like pollution.

Casually, he strides your way, plopping down beside you on the couch. He sits alongside a long and raspy sigh, his body right against yours as he wraps his arms around you. Apparently, one of his favorite things to do.

“C’mere,” He says quietly, pulling you to lean back against his chest. And he enjoys it when you snuggle into him, resting against his firmness.

Placing his fingers beneath your chin, he lifts your head, and when you turn to meet him you discover his bare lips. They’re dry and chapped, both of your mouths as they press together, but neither of you really care. You’re yearning for each other, and very suddenly aware that you have an entire cabin to yourselves. And as Simon holds your face with his gloved hand, his kisses become sweet, sensual slides and meetings that make your heart beat.

“How are you?” He asks in that deep, rumbly tone, still full of genuine care.

“Tired,” You breathe out with a short laugh. “Sore.”

“Mm,” Your love nods, gifting you with another small kiss. It’s short and sweet, the gentle stamp of his lips. “Why don’t you have a shower with me?” He’d eyed the bed in the backroom, too, thinking about how wonderful it might feel to lay down in it after washing yourselves clean. But in this moment, that’s not at all what you’re thinking about.

Is he going to let me see his face?

You’re shocked he even asked, you never thought you’d get an opportunity like this with him. And so, with your eyes flickering up to meet his, you nod. “Okay.”

“Won’t be too luxurious,” His voice rumbles across your skin, dark eyes staring down at your charming little face. “Grimy shower, no soap. Just enough water to wash the sweat off our skin.”

Sleepily, you smile. “That’s good enough for me.”

The strength he continues to use even beneath the weight of fatigue is astounding. You’re not quite sure how he has it in him, but he holds you up from behind, cradling your body in his arms. And it’s not like you weigh much, but it still impresses you. There’s not much Simon does that hasn’t impressed you.

Warmly, the water cascades down your body, droplets rolling over the hills and valleys of your skin. And it’s so pleasurable that you moan, eyes closing as your head tilts back to rest against him. Briefly, it frightens him, his eyes dipping down to your relaxed face. He’s reassured by the small flutter of your lashes, a display of respect for him. Before getting in, Simon told you not to look at his face. And while it made your heart sink, you really should’ve known better than to expect that from him.

On his end, this is just as nice, if not even more. With his mask off, he uses one hand to run down his face, then ruffling it through his short hair.

“Simon?” You ask, feeling him reach up, brushing water through his locks.

“Mm?”

Still temporarily blind, you ask him, “What color is your hair?”

That deep laugh bounces off the tile walls, and it makes you smile, heart beating with a certain affection you’re not yet ready to admit to him.

“What color do you think it is?”

“Well, your stubble is blonde, and your happy trail…” Grinning, you reach behind you, fingers petting at the damp patch of hairs leading down to his groin.

“Blonde.” Simon repeats, both hands returning to your hips.

Leaning down, his head tilts, lips brushing your cheek as he says, “That’s what I am.”

For a moment, when you feel his hands roam, you assume it to be sexual. But it isn’t, not at first anyways. While you bask in this new knowledge, Simon washes your body, hands running over your shoulders and arms, your stomach, your hips and thighs.

“You’re tense.” That grumbling voice says, rubbing your shoulders. “Give you a proper rub when I bring you back to base.” And the way he says it makes you swoon, something about his wording making you feel cared for, protected.

“You’d do that for me?”

For a flash, you consider the danger of your situation. You’re both living in a fantasy right now, showering together for the first time, enjoying each other’s company while you’re supposed to be guarding the safe house. But apparently, Simon’s quite sure of the absence of any danger.

Shifting slightly, your Ghost’s broad palms rise to cup your tits, groaning softly into your ear as his head dips down to your neck. Here, his lips work over you, kissing you sensually beneath the warm spray.

“‘Course I would.”

When you sigh, your head falls back a bit further, truly exposing your neck. And this gives him the perfect opportunity for his dominant hand to lift a little higher, fingers encircling your neck. A spike of adrenaline hits your blood, your pulse jumping when it happens. You keep your eyes from flashing open, instead flashing him your grin.

“I want you, sweetheart.” Simon openly admits, his firmly toned body pressing against your back. “While there’s no one around… no one here but you and me…”

“Baby,” Reaching back, you use one arm to wrap around his neck, fingers combing up through his hair. It sends a tingle down your entire spine, feeling his full head of hair for the first time. “I want you.”

“Just us, alone…” He’s trailing off, voice murmuring beneath the shower’s loud stream. “Pull as many pretty sounds from you as I like.”

Chuckling, you return with, “How are you not exhausted?”

“I’m never too tired for you.” He easily responds, “Cheesy, but it’s true. I want every second I can get with you.”

It’s really strange to you, seeing your relationship now versus the start of it. At the beginning, Simon was cold, completely cut off from any outside communication, and that’s how he liked it. He didn’t have anyone close to him, and so, he didn’t have anyone to lose. A man free of commitment, free of any domestic responsibility; tied to his military base, and nothing more. But then you showed up, and made him feel things he never wanted to experience. It was something he blocked out, but his defenses weren’t strong enough to daunt you. And now, instead of avoiding your affections, he returned them tenfold every time he could.

Another pull in your chest, muscles tightening, stomach fluttering. You want to tell him, be open and honest just as he’s pushed himself to be with you. But you don’t know if this is the right time, you don’t know if there will ever be a ‘right time’ with him.

But before you can fully process that, Simon finishes washing your body and his, wiping away the sweat and grime of the past couple days. He even snakes a hand down between your legs, bringing water to rinse you while pressing his lips to your ear.

“Turn it off.” Gentle breath brushes over your skin, both broad palms on your hips as you bend over to do it. “Stay here.”

There aren’t any towels in the cabin, there isn’t much of anything, really. But he moves out into the living room to grab a random blanket from the couch, returning to wrap you in it.

“All we have.”

“That’s okay.” Your smile is sweet as you stare up at him, now with his mask on again. He’d dried himself briefly before coming back to you, and now, he guides you to the bedroom.

“C’mere,” Turning you around to face him, Simon sighs, lifting his mask. “Give me those lips.”

Easily, he pushes forward, guiding you down to the bed as he distracts you with his mouth. The blanket lays open around you as it happens, revealing your naked body to him once again. And on either side of your head, those strong forearms hold your soldier up, his mouth delicate as he begins to consume you.

One large hand finds its way to your thigh, parting your legs. With gentle eagerness, he settles between them, lowering himself to kiss your neck.

“So beautiful,” He murmurs, eyes closed as he shakes his head. “Even through all this, through the hike and weather.”

“Shut up.” You return, laughing playfully at his words.

“I mean it.” Simon instantly responds, voice gruff as he speaks to you in that lowered tone. “You’re the only woman to ever do this to me.”

Your loving lieutenant speaks with a sense of urgency, voice breathy and raspy and full of the deep accent you adore so completely. Truthfully, it’s the most emotional confession he’s ever given, and it stuns you to your core. In your eyes, he might as well have told you he loves you. It’s likely the closest you’ll ever get to it.

“Simon…” Reaching up, your hands cup his cheeks, wishing now more than ever to see more.

“You mean something to me…” He admits, slowly moving down your body.

As he creeps down your frame, your hands pull away from his face, feeling his own explore you in the most intimate way. Both of them secure to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before his lips find them. He’s soft with it, mouthing at the delicate bends of your body.

“A perfect treat,” Ghost grins, lips curling over your skin. “All for me.”

That devilish smirk only grows wider when you spread your legs for him, watching with bated breath. Simon always made this such an event, laying you out on any surface or bed and making you wait for his every move.

“Just look at that,” Your sharp inhale makes him hum in admiration, using his thickest digit to thumb at your glistening lips. “Those creamy juices just leaking out of your cunt…”

“Simooonnn,” Thrusting your hips up, you huff dramatically, tossing your head back onto the bed. “Please.”

Usually, he’d laugh, but he doesn’t want to drag it out this time. He wants to indulge in you while he can, before anyone else shows up. And so, he fully parts your lips, tongue laying out to swipe through them. His breaths waft heavily across your center, smooth lips engulfing your sex. He sucks on you, already slurping up the combination of your slick and his spit. Steadily, he strokes you with his tongue, digging it deep inside your warmth. But then he’s pulling himself back, using both hands to spread your legs, pulling apart your sticky lips.

“Christ, I love this.” His voice is thick, eyes unwavering from the space between your thighs. Licking through these delicate petals… right down into that hole.”

Lifting himself ever so slightly, he laps at your clit, tongue circling the hood as he toys with it. The way your hips quiver gifts him with encouragement, with confidence. He knows your body, and he’s going to use that knowledge against you.

“Come on, babe. Make those beautiful noises for me.” Reaching forward, he grabs onto the meat of your ass, squeezing it in hand. “There’s no one here to listen but me, just me…”

“Ngh,” Arching your back, you cry out for him, both from the force of his hand and the way his tongue flicks against the peak of your sex. “Fuck.”

“Come on.” His breathy encouragements continue to flow, his lips soft and wet as he licks through you. “Moan for me.”

“B-Baby, yes…”

He’s sucking on you, lips smacking against the wetness of your cunt as he basks in its taste. The more you writhe beneath his face, the firmer his grip on you becomes, until you’re unable to move yourself at all. Your hips still, crushed comfortably beneath his weight as both of those veiny forearms settle overtop them.

“Yes.” Reaching out, you wish so desperately to be met with the wonderful sensation of his golden hair. But alas, it’s that goddamn mask. Fingers curling tightly into the fabric, you cling to him, chest puffing out sultry gasps into the dusty cabin air. “I, I ca…”

“More.”

“Simon,”

While mumbling against your skin, Simon’s deep, dark eyes flutter up to your gorgeous face. His hands dig into your hips, fingers pressing into the muscles that make you so delicious. Every time you’re near, whether it’s sexual or otherwise, he adores the way you say his name. The way you call for him, reaching out for protection, for friendship, for love. You reach out to him for love, he knows it.

Massaging you with his hands, Simon’s grunts vibrate through your legs and hips, his mouth insistent. And when you meet his eyes, meet that possessive, predatory gaze, you’re done for. The entire sensation of it rushes through your body, opening up and completely letting go. Your back arches, jaw dropping as you listen to him mouth at your quivering cunt like it’s a feast. Heavy grunts and humid breaths, the wet sound of your juices mixing with his spit. Your hips shake from it, lungs constricting from the euphoria tightening your veins.

“Si-imon!” Eyes pinching shut, you revel in it, hands pressing to the back of his head as you reach out for more of his touch. But it’s as if you can’t bring him any closer than he already is.

He lets you hold him, lets your body roll through the motions. But it takes everything in him not to immediately crawl over your body and capture your lips. So, he continues to lick you, letting himself get lost in the taste of it, the smell of it. Shoving his tongue inside, he can feel your hole quiver around him, can feel the way his taste buds react to your cum.

“Baby, baby.” Simon’s tongue swirls around your clit, menacing orbs trained directly on you once again. “Baby…”

And all at once, he’s on you again, lifting himself from between your legs and reaching out to wrench your jaw open.

“Give me those fucking lips.”

Crashing his mouth to your own comes alongside his heated moan, the sound of wet gasps and hot breaths instantly filling the air. He’s pressing himself into you, crushing you comfortably beneath his weight. And the hand he has on your cheek only further secures its grip, keeping your mouth open for him.

“You want me?” He always loved to hear you say it.

“Yes, yes baby, please.” When he pulls away enough to speak, your hands shoot up to his cheeks. “Simon, please.” But then you see him pause, the glimmer of a smirk pulling on his lips. Those deep, mocha orbs stare down at you as he waits. He wants to hear you say it, and you know it.

“I want you.”

If it were any other situation, Simon might’ve held back, might’ve made you repeat a few more words just to really get himself going. But he’s already throbbing against your leg, precum leaking onto your skin since the moment he laid you on the bed. The rest of them could be here any moment, likely in the morning but you never know with Price. He has to take advantage of this while he can.

Leaning on that decorated forearm, Simon’s free hand lowers to his shaft, gripping the base. With his eyes dipping down, he takes a beat to lick his lips and catch his breath. He’s hot, swollen, his pleasure pulsing as it slides across your outer lips. And you pull him in while he does it, mouthing at his neck and trying your damnedest to keep his skin free of any visible sin.

“Such a perfect pussy…” He whispers, sliding his entire length in.

It stretches you, prompting your legs to widen as you take him. The sight of this makes the corner of his lips quirk, a devilish glint in his eye twinkling from your submissiveness.

“That’s it,” A rough sigh is punched from his chest when he’s fully seated, when the firm drag of his cock slows to a dull throb between your legs.

Through the carnal desire clawing through his chest, he pauses, heart beating fondly from the way you nuzzle against his skin. It’s intimate, it isn’t just lust. And as soon as he comes down a bit from that blind passion and excitement, his arms encase your head, cradling you in them.

“Sweetheart,” Brushing the tip of his nose across your own, he draws your attention. Your soft breaths make you seem so small, and in contrast, him so large. You put so much trust into his hands.

Dipping down, Simon kisses you, distracting you with the sweet press of his lips while retracting his hips. Driving his pelvis forward again, he listens to your shrill gasp as it escapes your throat, fingernails already digging into his skin. Repeatedly, he seeks your warmth, pleasure flowing through his system as you give him this tempting sin. That’s really what it is to him; love is a sin.

But he takes every bit of it like a man that’s been promised to hell.

Steady and continuous is the pace of his hips, pelvis slapping between your open thighs. Repeatedly, he breaches your entrance with a girth you’ve desperately missed, his entire body pressing into you. And now that he’s inside, that free hand lifts, eyes watching your bouncing chest before grabbing at it. He paws at your seductive curves like it’s the first time he’s ever touched them, mouth finding the slope of your shoulder and neck as he kisses your skin with wet, parted lips.

“This is just what I need,” Simon groans, growls. “You’re just what I want. You know that, don’t you?”

The moans you once kept silent now burst from your lips, grinding your hips up in time with his thrusts as best you can. Grasping for his shoulders, you feel yourself go weak, the fat head of his cock hitting you deep.

“You know that, right?” He repeats, fondling your chest with firm grabs. But when you still don’t answer, he grunts out his disapproval, head lifting to dig his covered nose into your cheek. And you know better than to not answer him.

“Yes, Simon…” It comes out as a sigh, eyes fluttering open to see those deep, endlessly brown eyes.

And it makes him grin, chuckling breathily. You’re drunk on him.

“Good.” He mumbles against your lips, the hand on your chest now sliding down your side. It follows the dip of your waist and hips, smoothing over the side of your ass until he reaches your thigh. And then he’s grabbing you, hauling your leg further up on his waist, and in turn giving him access for a harsh smack.

“Pretty girl… you’re mine.”

“Simon.”

“Look at me.” Grabbing your jaw, he turns your head in his direction. And the force of it snaps your eyes open, staring up at your enormous soldier. “Look at me when you say my name.”

“Simon…”

Emotion swirls inside your chest until you feel like it’s about to burst, dire need and complete infatuation taking over your body. He’s all consuming, something you can't and wouldn’t ever want to run away from. It’s clawing at you from the inside out, your care for him, your genuine adoration. And you don’t want to say it because you’re sure he won’t react too nicely, he won’t accept it, but you can’t help it. You really can’t, and all at once, you’re saying it.

“Simon, Si, I love,”

Briefly, he stutters, both his hips and lungs. But he keeps going, he’s sure that’s not what you’re saying. It’s not what you should be saying.

“I love you, Si.”

The embrace you hold with him couldn’t be more intense, your chests pressed together as your arms loop tightly around his neck. Something inside him feels like it’s breaking, cold heart cracking with something akin to warmth. If he had the chance, he would’ve begged you not to say it. You don’t need to fall for him like that, not in this way, not in this lifetime. It hasn’t been kind to him, and he, in turn, hasn’t been a kind man. Any semblance of good intention left in his body has been given to you and… he figures that’s it, isn’t it? Is that what love is? Giving someone everything you have? Every piece of good you’ve been made with?

“Bones,” Simon eventually returns, hips slowing until he stills. Resting in this lull with you, he can practically feel your anxiety, your vulnerability. You’ve given him everything you have, too. “I… do.”

“You don’t have to say it.” Comes your instant, tiny squeak.

Out of either vulnerability or insecurity, his head finds your neck, stuffing its way into concealment. “I do.” He says again, squeezing you with his entire body. “I do.”

With a firm sigh, he decides to give this to you; you deserve this - he’s going to give this to you.

“I love you… too.”

“Baby, you really don’t have to say it.” You can practically feel the uncertainty seeping through his skin as he clings to you, seeking security. Stroking the back of his head, you hold him, wrapping your legs around his waist, too.

“I do.” He continues to repeat, now nodding. “I love you.”

“Are you joking me?” Soap practically scoffs, a look of disgust crawling across his face.

“Sorry?” Ghost returns, generally unphased as he inhales another drag of his cig.

“Could you be more obvious?”

At this, Simon’s face turns stern, snuffing out the joint on the couch’s arm before dropping his hand to your leg. A simple gesture of yes, yes I can.

You’d woken up in Simon’s arms, limbs tangled together beneath a worn and tattered scrap of fabric one might call a blanket. Counting yourselves lucky, you opened your eyes to an empty cabin once again. The team hadn’t arrived just yet.

It took some convincing, but you finally got Simon out of bed and dressed. You didn’t want to draw any suspicion should they walk in on you like this. And so, you settled together on the couch. While you laid down, snuggling your feet onto his lap, Simon pulled out another cigarette. It was relaxing, not only being alone but sharing this habit.

The morning was cold but comfortable enough for you to fall back asleep, body resting easily on his sturdy lap. It humored him, seeing just how tired this mission has made you; and you’re only halfway through. But while you were fine spending your time getting some shut eye, Simon was having difficulty fighting his natural instincts. Now that you’ve said it, admitted it, he’s worried. The place you’re in is dangerous and admitting something so precious makes the situation that much more stressful. It also makes him that much more protective.

And so, while you laid resting against him, Simon pulled out his pistol, resting it against his knee with the barrel pointed towards the front door. If anyone were to come in here, they’d have to go through him first.

Lucky for him, though, it turned out to be the boys.

“Lieutenant.” Price nodded, watching Ghost return the gesture.

Lowering the gun, Simon watched as Price and Gaz made their way into the bedroom to set their things down, leaving Soap with the two of you. And that’s when he voiced his concerns, that deep Scottish scoff making itself known.

“Real discrete.” He comments before hearing the captain shout from the room.

“Bit messy in here.” Price remarks, “Messier than I’d last left it. You two do some good sleeping in here?”

“Nah,” Ghost returns with a grin only Johnny can see. “Slept out here, Cap.”

When you hear Simon’s booming voice, you finally wake again, meeting the azure eyes of your friendly sergeant. “Hey, Soap.”

And he can’t bring himself to be any bit annoyed with you. “Hey, gorgeous.”

It’s meant as a friendly compliment, of course, but Ghost squeezes your calf, nonetheless.

“Alright,” Price booms, stomping into the room. “Let’s circle up. We’ve got plans to discuss.”

Already, he hates this. The entire atmosphere has shifted from light and lazy to dark and perilous. Simon can feel his heart rate increasing, his breaths deep and dragging. The mere thought of you in the field makes him want to jump up and wrap you in his arms, drag you away and hide you somewhere safe. What he hates even more than the possibility of that happening is the fact that he allowed it, he’s allowed this to happen. It wasn’t exactly his call to make, but he would’ve made it, and he didn't.

He’s made his bed, and this time, he’s got to lay in it.

So, without much choice, he watches his men regroup in front of him, with his partner sitting up to join in. Price tosses out the maps, Gaz whips out the compass, and Johnny’s already pulling out snacks. Pulling down his mask, Simon releases a harsh sigh, nothing that really draws anyone’s attention, though. He’s pretty much always cranky, and with you here, that trait has grown tenfold.

When Simon reaches for your hand on the couch, your eyes widen. What the hell is he doing? But before you can react, and before anyone else has a chance to see, Johnny tosses a protein bar at the lieutenant.

“Johnny, what the fuck?”

“Don’t be dumb.” Johnny scolds outwardly, scowling at his closest friend.

Price can feel something lingering in the air, an awkward silence, a secret. But he pushes it away. Glancing between his teammates, he clasps his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then.”

Here we go.

#oooohhhh baby #I love you #I do #Simon Riley #Simon Ghost Riley #Ghost cod #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x reader #Simon Riley x female reader #Simon Riley smut #Simon Riley fluff #cod fanfiction #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty #cod mw2

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sanjisboyfie · 3 months

Text

๑ mummified [name] (29)

one piece x male reader

oh, the boy's a slag,

the best you've ever had

『 prev 』

nami covered her mouth at the sight.

it was truly gruesome. how did [name] end up in such a severely worse state than both sanji and usopp, even though they suffered the same attack? nami didn’t have any idea why, nor did she find herself caring for a reason.

not when she was reminded of how [name] was no longer breathing.

she turned him onto his back, grimacing at the sound the blood mad underneath the movement of his body. she took a couple of deep breaths before performing basic cpr.

“come on! [name], you can’t die here!” she shouted, frantically repeating the compressions with a steady rhythm. her arms were straight, in proper positioning, and she huffed with the motion of her body weight pressing down onto the area above [name]’s heart. “wake up!!!”

she debated on whether or not to give the breaths to [name] before shaking her head and committing herself to the routine. if it was life or death, then giving two breaths of air mouth to mouth wasn’t even a big deal. she wouldn’t hesitate if it meant the difference of [name] dying or living.

but just as she tilted his head back, to open his airway, there was a cough of blood that erupted from his mouth. she flinched away immediately to avoid the liquid splattering on her and also in shock. she looked at [name]’s chest and realized it was moving, very, very slowly, but it was moving.

“[name]!!!” she shouted, turning him to his side so that the blood could escape his mouth, instead of suffocating his airway. in a panic, she slapped his back a couple of times to urge the liquid to come out — not really thinking the action through in terms of bodily harm. but she didn’t have time to seriously evaluate her actions, not when she was just so frantic in seeing [name] stay alive.

he continued coughing out blood, the liquid dribbling out of his mouth and forming a puddle near his cheek. nami felt tears spring to her eyes as she saw how weak and fragile he really was.

his eyes were barely open, his jaw ajar, and his body was twitching every now and then.

“so much…blood,” nami breathed out, looking at the expanse of [name]’s body and her eyes becoming dull at the sight and reality. [name] had lost too much blood for it to be normal, for him to even be alive.

but she wasn’t going to question how he survived, she would just do everything in her power to ensure he stayed alive. she stood upright and was about to run to grab chopper’s spare bandages, gritting her teeth as she willed her legs to run forward.

but now, her and the weird knight had to be dealing with these two random circular people that had invaded their ship. they were spewing some irrelevant information about how usopp and sanji killed their brother, but nami could care less.

when they both started throttling her crew’s body around, she felt nothing but anger surge in her core.

“don’t touch them!!” she shouted, taking apart her clima tact and shooting two bars of it forward, the blue weapon forming an “x” shape as it was thrown towards the duo. “they’re already unconscious! can’t you see?! he’s going to die of blood loss, stop it!!!”

the two people obviously didn’t care for her pleading, which only made her more aggravated.

the weird knight and her made quick work in dealing with the two, nami filled with a new sense of urgency when she saw how beaten up and bloodied [name] really was. her eyes almost welled with tears, but she blinked them away and forced herself to focus on attacking.

after a joint effort in defeating the two, the ship and crew were finally safe again. nami threw off the gauntlet she was forced to use, rushing over to [name]’s side and holding her hand over his heart. a wave of relief came over her when she felt it was still beating.

“i need to do first aid quickly,” she reminded herself, running to grab the bandages from chopper’s quarters and then coming back onto the deck and hastily treating [name].

she apologized briefly to the unconscious sanji and usopp, but considering that they were not in as terrible condition as [name], she didn’t feel all that bad treating [name] first.

“old man!! where do you think you’re going?!” she shouted from [name]’s side, seeing that the old man was now adorning his metallic fear. “you can’t just leave us here?!”

“i apologize, but i must follow where enel went,” gan fall spoke, eyeing the injured [name] with immense pity, “please, treat him quickly and the other two so that you all can make it out of here alive,”

before nami could further argue with him, the sky night and his bird took off. she grit her teeth in annoyance, angrily wrapping the bandages around [name]’s bloodied form.

just as she thought she was at least half way done in treating him, there was a sudden blast of music that was heard from behind merry.

she fully expected to see some sort of enemy attacking them once again, but insteaad was confused when she saw a little ship being steered by conis and her father.

“nami-san! heso!” conis greeted, making nami tilt her head in confusion.

pagaya parked the vehicle behind merry and the two climbed aboard, a new face in tow.

“this is aisa-san, we had agreed to-”

“stay away blue sea people! i am a warrior of shandora and i will eliminate you!!”

pagaya’s explanation of who the girl was was cut off by the child herself, who was waving around a “weapon” in nami’s face. the woman could only look at her with an unimpressed expression, push her aside by using her elbow to get her out of the way, and looking up at conis.

“help me treat them, all of them are in really bad shape, but [name], i think he’s in the worst conditon,” conis and her father looked at the man in shock. the tall man that was comfortably eating at their home only hours before was now boiled down to a completely bloodied mess.

conis jumped to action, retrieving her first aid bag from their own personal ship and then immediately getting to work on treating him. nami assisted her, wiping [name] down clean of any blood and then immediately plastering a healing balm over his wounds.

the most obvious signs of damage were near his face, such as his eyes and ears, as well as his chest. conis worked as calmly as she could whilst nami kept a hardened expression the entire time she was treating [name].

‘if you even think about dying, [name], i’ll make sure to give you an earful in hell! there’s no way you’re dying today!’ the navigator thought to herself, watching conis’ finger expertly navigate the roll of bandage around [name]’s body.

“he should be completely covered now,” conis sighed after a strenous couple of minutes of work.

[name] was dressed head to toe in bandages. his eyes, nose, and mouth were the only uncovered parts of his face since he, obviously, needed to see and breathe. nami had covered him up with his shorts, but didn’t bother with his shirt since she didn’t want to move him around all that much.

“the healing balm underneath the bandages act as a cooling agent as well as an antibacterial, so it should target the possible burns he might have suffered from enel’s attack as well as fight infection,” conis informed nami, who only nodded her head in understanding. the skypiean noticed the other woman’s worried gaze lingering on [name], so she offered her comfort by rubbing up and down her back, “i will treat the other two, please stay by his side to keep him company.”

nami nodded, muttering a thank you, and positioned herself to be as close as possible to [name]’s resting body. her hand rested on top of his chest, right above his heart and it was a comfort to feel the faint beating against her own skin.

“i hope the others are doing alright,” she said to herself, looking down at [name]’s body with deep regret evident on her face. “seriously, you’re always getting into life threatening danger…for what, you idiot?”

she grit her teeth in annoyance, thinking back to alabasta. they were lucky to have vivi and chopper both on the scene to treat him quickly. and nami feels thankful to have conis help her out with the first aid. but her worry and anxiety over his wellbeing still hadn’t been quenched at all. without chopper here to treat him, he may as well be closer to being a dead man than walking this off like he did in alabasta.

when caused [name] to wake from his knocked out state was the giant beam of lightening that had shot straight down from the sky. he coughed blood up as the electricity hit the island beside them, making the water underneath merry rock back and forth.

he stabilized his breathing before taking in his surroundings. they were below deck of merry and beside him, usopp and sanji were bandaged up to treat their own wounds. and that was when he noticed he was wrapped head to toe in white bandages, some parts of the white surface blotted with red blood.

he groaned, feeling fatigue and pain wash over his entire body. of course, the god had to have the ability linked to electricity, he cursed in his head. he rolled over, trying to urge his legs in stepping forward. it took a couple of tries, like a baby deer walking for the first time, but then he was finally able to make it to the door.

when he slammed it open, the first thing he heard were the cries of someone. he searched the deck and saw a familiar head of blonde hair and a pair of white wings on their back. he walked forward, eyes softening as he saw that she was the source of crying.

seeing as he was unable to speak properly, the bandages around his face secured rather tight, all he could do was kneel down beside her and offer him his arms.

”[name]?” she breathed out in shock, surprised to see that he was even conscious so soon. when she saw the gesture he was offering, his arms spread open and his torso awaiting, she bit her lip and tried to muffle her cries. she collapsed into his arms, crying into the bandages around his chest as he hugged her tight.

she had just witnessed her father die, all thanks to enel and his lightening powers. she feels nothing but grief and anger. how could enel do this to her father? and while [name] didn’t even know the gravity of their current situation, he held her for as long as she needed with a stoic expression underneath his bandaged face.

“[name]! enel is going to-” she cut herself off, not wanting the same fate of her father to befall [name] and herself, “no, i can’t! i have to go, [name], i can’t explain further.”

[name] blinked at her sudden change in demeanor, tilting his head to the side in confusion. seeing the fire in her eyes and hearing her determination, though, he let her go and stood upright.

”for our safety, i can’t say what i have heard, but please tend the other two while i relay the message to the people. i can’t allow for this to happen without warning the others!” whatever “this” was, [name] didn’t know, but he didn’t bother trying to stop her.

instead, he only attempted a smile and threw her a thumbs up.

conis faltered at the sight, rushing forward and hugging him with the lightest touch and then backing away, “thank you for understanding! i really wish i didn’t have to leave the three of you without aid, but i must! i’m sorry! [name], please be safe!”

he waved her comment off, rolling his eyes at her apology, and shooing her away. she weakly laughed at his behavior, running off the deck of the ship and onto the miniature boat that she and her father had brought.

the only plan of action was to bring merry to the original meeting point. unfortunately, he would just have to hope that he was steering merry in the right direction. after getting everything in order, he walked to the room where sanji and usopp were resting and went to take care of them.

the two rags that were resting on their heads was set on the rim of the pail of water, so he first went to set them back in place. after wringing the water out, he placed the two rags on their foreheads. he continued to silently work in making sure they were comfortable, covering them with the thick blankets and fluffing their pillow.

in the midst of him treating them, sanji began muttering in his sleep. he wasn’t really listening, blocking out the noise and just focusing on how to speed up their healing process.

as he was redoing the bandages around sanji’s arms, though, the blonde unconsciously grabbed his own and pathetically called out, “nami-san~” to which [name] very abruptly dropped sanji’s hand with a grimace.

the action made sanji’s eyes open and when he saw the mummified version of [name] staring at him, he scurried away and wrapped himself in the blanket for protection, “no way i just held your hand!” he shouted, pointing a finger at [name].

seeing as he was bandaged up and unable to talk, [name] just went to flip him off before turning around and tending to usopp.

“where is nami-san?!” sanji cried out, rocking back and forth like a baby throwing a tantrum, “oh, i hope she is safe!”

as he was crying those mock tears, [name] stood up and went to throw out the old bandages. the movement made sanji look up from his wallowing and observe [name]’s form. he was moving well, all things considered, but he noticed that his actions were sluggish and lazy. as if he barely had enough energy to even be moving.

then sanji remembered everything up until this point. [name] was having really bad reactions prior to the god even showing up, overheating and sweating bullets. then he was attacked head on by the supposed god, making everything else that happened after become unknown.

using context clues, he could assume the condition [name] was in was also due to the god striking him. sanji grit his teeth, looking at the man’s bandaged body and recognizing the fact that the blame could be put onto him. he ran a hand through his blonde hair, looking aside as he mentally beat himself up.

[name] is so injured because of me, he thought to himself, and now nami-san is nowhere to be seen! i’ve failed as a crewmate and as a man! his thoughts were going rampant, ranting on and on about nami’s safety.

then he was knocked on the head by [name]’s knuckle. he was going to shout at him for being annoying, but when he looked up and noticed that every inch of [name]’s body was covered with bandages, he bit his tongue.

“we better wake up usopp,” sanji commanded, standing up and putting the cigarette back into his mouth, “we have to go and save nami-san,” then he shoved [name]’s shoulder with a glare, “you’re in no condition to do anything, though, so just stick behind with merry,”

[name] immediately refused, shoving sanji’s shoulder with an equal amount of force. sanji shook his head, “i won’t let you come, you’d only slow us down. be more considerate on this mission and stay back!”

if [name] could speak, he’d definitely curse sanji out, the blonde knew that. the glare he was sporting spoke for itself. but the chef really didn’t want [name] joining them.

they had to run across the island’s terrain, get to a high vantage point, somehow get on board of the massive flying ship that was above their heads and then probably fight the god that was behind this entire mess. [name] would only get hurt even more.

”you’ll just get even more hurt and slow us down,” sanji said, walking away and not leaving [name] anymore room to argue — as if the man could in the first place.

[name] felt furious at sanji for underestimating him so much. he already knew that there was no way that he was going to stay back while usopp and sanji got to face enel. over his dead body would he let those two go into such an intense fight alone.

but all he could do was simmer in his anger in silence, wincing as he crossed his arms over his chest in said anger.

“usopp, let’s go! we have nami-san to rescue!” sanji shouted, tugging usopp to the railing, “[name], don’t even think about-”

“too late,” usopp drawled out, seeing that the h/c haired man had already jumped off of the railing and onto the island before either of them could react.

“shit for brains, get back here!” sanji shouted, jumping ahead too and running to be side by side with [name], “go back to the ship, i won’t repeat myself!”

[name] flipped him off and continued running ahead.

“you’re only going to slow us down!” sanji argued, but his words were easily proven false as [name] was running the fastest among the three. usopp was running a couple of feet behind.

“sanji, are we seriously going up there?!” usopp cried out, legs wobbly as he tried catching up with the two.

“yeah, after i kick this asshole back to merry!”

[name] suddenly halted in his running, catching sanji in his arms and bracing for impact when usopp ran into his torso as well. with an iron strong grip, he had his arms wrapped around sanji and usopp’s waist and were carrying them at his waist height — as if they were rag dolls.

“put me down, shit for brains!”

“ah, how relaxing this is, to just rest in [name]’s arms like this~”

usopp and sanji had two very different reactions, obviously.

and [name] furrowed his brows in concentration, getting into position as if he were about to start running. but what shocked the two in his arms was that instead of him running, it appeared as if he was flying through the air.

they were still on the ground, the two confirmed that when they looked down and saw the grass so close to [name]’s feet. so he wasn’t actually flying, but the speed in which he was “running”, it was as if he was soaring through the air.

and before they knew it, they were standing on a rock that was a couple meters tall and gave them more leverage in reaching the gigantic ship that nami was apparently harbored on. after she was kidnapped by enel. all according to sanji’s theory.

[name] set usopp and sanji down, giving them a couple of seconds to get used to their lack of motion. using soru when it’s just your body in transport is fine, the body has been trained for it. but when you used soru with other in tow, it was hard to estimate how their bodies would react to the action.

sanji was reacting better than usopp, simply putting a hand on his chest to calm his heart and stabilize his breathing. the sniper, on the other hand, was off to the side puking his guts out.

[name] walked over when he was finished and roughly hit the belt that was around usopp’s waist. sanji perked up, seemingly ready to get their rescue mission into play, and joined [name]’s side. and speaking for him, he exclaimed, “usopp, get ready, we’re gonna use that stupid rope thing you have to get up there!”

“what?! why me?!” usopp cried out, not liking the way the two were ganging up on him. he couldn’t even rely on [name] to cower behind because the man himself looked rather unbothered by his fear.

“that rope of yours can reach up there! shoot it up and i’ll kick it in the direction of the ship to make sure it latches on! from there, we’ll climb it and save nami-san!”

usopp’s knees shook where he stood and he was about to beg [name] to let him not participate, but the male was still glaring at the belt around his waist with determination.

there was no way [name] would listen to his pleas now, usopp thought with a stream of tears going down his face.

“if this ends up ending terribly, i won’t be responsible!” is the last thing usopp shouts before releasing the hooked rope from his belt. it’s trajectory is set towards sanji, who kicks it at the last second to send it flying towards the ship.

when the hook at the end finally latched onto the ship, sanji and [name] threw themselves onto the rope while usopp just waited for it to take him off of the ground. now all that was left was to climb.

[name] grit his teeth at the immense pain he was going through. the closer they got to the deck of the massive ship flying through the sky, the more pain he was in. regardless of the fact, though, he continued on climbing and toughed out the pain.

when they finally were able to get onto some surface of rest, sanji was more amped up to save nami than he was before. he ran ahead, shouting about how they had to split up and use this time as resourcefully as they could. before he disappeared from their line of sight, though, he shouted once more, “and [name], don’t be a fucking idiot! it’s not just your life on the line, it’s usopp’s too!!”

“who said i can’t fend for myself?!” usopp cried out in offense, making [name] turn to him with an unimpressed look on his face.

obviously, [name] couldn’t verbalize anything so all he did was roughly tug usopp in a random direction and hope that that was the path that led them to enel. usopp continued crying out for him to stop, not wanting to actually fight the god, but he had no choice when it was [name] pulling him along.

[name] was bulldozing through wooden doors with not a care in the world, eager to find nami and get everyone to safety. he could see that with each door and wall that he smashed to pieces, she was getting closer. it only encouraged him to move faster.

usopp was tightly gripping his slingshot in anticipation, keen on how the farther they were traveling in on the ship, the louder the sounds of fighting were. nami was probably in a lot of trouble and that was what encouraged the sniper to move onward with [name] with some sense of courage.

but when the door [name] slammed open and revealed the actual god, usopp felt nothing but fear. he looked to [name] to gauge his reaction, but when he looked to where he was supposed to be standing, he was no longer there. and when usopp turned his head back into the direction of enel, he almost pissed himself when he saw the god was looking directly at him.

“special attack : exploding star!” he shouted with a mixture of courage and fear. when he opened his eyes, he saw that the god was glaring right back at him. where the hell did [name] go?! usopp screamed in his head, looking at the god and feeling himself tremble, “i-i’m sorry,”

the god didn’t look impressed.

”oi! nami, is sanji here yet?!”

“sanji? he’s here?!” nami exclaimed in shock. she was wondering if her eyes were deceiving her before or if it really was [name] that she saw standing beside usopp earlier. but, considering he was now missing, it must’ve been a trick of the light. that or she was going crazy.

“what do you mean he’s not here yet?! plus that asshole abandoned me! what are we going to do?!” usopp shouted in worry, running out of the way of one of enel’s attacks and tumbling towards nami.

“what do you mean?! you’re the one that’s supposed to be saving me?!”

“what?! no way, you save me!”

“screw that, save me!!”

the two bantered back and forth until enel shot another electric beam towards them. they dispersed and dodged the attack, crying to their heart’s content when they realized they were so close to getting hit.

“what the hell?! where’s [name] when you need him?!”

“savior [name]! save us!!!” usopp shouted, but when he saw zero movement from their surrounding area of the said man, he kicked his feet into the ground, “you asshole! how could you abandon us?!”

“you mean he was really here?!” nami shouted in confusion, “he’s in no condition to even be moving, what the hell were you guys thinking bringing him up here?!”

“he insisted, we can’t stop him! that’s like trying to stop a hungry luffy from eating all the food we have — it’s impossible! im-poss-ible!!” usopp drawled out, a shriek escaping his lips as he dodged another attack. “but that doesn’t matter, he’s left us here for some reason! so now, we have to be the ones to take care of this situation!”

nami grit her teeth, “he’s gonna die if he fights enel! i’m serious, usopp, where did he go?!”

“how the hell am i supposed to know?! i’m the one telling you he ran away!”

“that’s bullshit, [name] wouldn’t run away!” nami defended, looking around and clenching her fists in frustration, “[name]! come here right now, or else we’re leaving you here!”

“you have an escape plan?!” usopp asked with stars in his eyes, eager to get out of the immediate line of danger.

“the waver — if we time our jumping right, we could land in the cloud island below and be saved by the clouds! that’s our only shot of getting out of here alive!”

“roger, i’ll distract him and you make sure it’s ready!”

the two nodded in understanding, running in separate directions to get their plan in motion. usopp’s plan to distract god enel didn’t work that well considering he only just put a target on himself and made enel focus on him entirely.

usopp thought that he was going to be done for, kneeling before enel with a firghtened look on his face. the god didn’t even flinch as he charged up an attack that would surely knock him out.

just as the beam was going to be shot out straight onto usopp’s torso, there was a squelching sound that echoed through the ship. it was quieter than the electricity bumbling on the end of enel’s fingertips, but usopp had heard it.

and enel was the one that felt it.

he looked down and saw the tip of a dagger sticking through his abdomen. the electricity he had charged up immediately died down and he coughed out blood, nothing but surprise painting his features.

“and who do you think you’re going to attack, god?”

usopp almost cried out to rejoice if he wasn’t scared out of his mind. that was [name]’s voice, no doubt. but the image of him was truly terrifying.

his shadow almost seemed bigger than it usually was, the way he was intimidatingly hovering behind enel. he was carrying a large bag behind him, making his figure seem even larger. the bandages that were tightly wound around every crevice of his body were now painted more red than white. the ones that were around his face were ripped off, revealing portions of his features. but most importantly, his mouth was unrestricted and his smirking canines were on display for them to see.

[name] was standing behind enel, a dagger in his clenched fist and buried deep into enel’s lower stomach. with a scowl on his face, he twisted the dagger and pushed it in deeper into his flesh.

“hey, i’m asking you a question, it’d be polite of you to answer,” he taunted, his knee nudging the back of enel’s and forcing him to kneel, “huh, never thought a god would look so befitting in this position. it’s kind of fuelling my ego. having a big, mighty man such as yourself kneeling before me,”

enel grit his teeth, a million questions running through his mind. how did such a feeble weapon manage to pierce his skin? that wasn’t supposed to be possible. it should’ve went straight through.

“i’m your god, now, enel,” [name] grinned, pulling the dagger out with a satisfied look on his face with the way the blood splattered across the deck, “say your prayers and i might be merciful,”

—

[ .ᐟ ] mc getting saved by the power of medical knowlede iktr but also if u think about it, it's the mosy realistic thung that could've happened thats all im gonna say

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