#interested in what i have to say too. we may never talk but i’ll see an rb or a like from someone and

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

Break First (1/1)

I know I owe you guys chapters on “Hell Hath No Fury” and “It Started With a Kiss.” Trust me, I know. And I would love to be writing them for you. However, as I was listening to some music, minding my own business, this idea hit me BAM! Like lightning. And now instead of writing the fics I’ve already got going, I’m writing this one-shot to get it out of my head so I can get back to my regular scheduled fic writing.

This fic takes place after “The Limey” in season 4. The fic is inspired by the song “Break First” by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. If you look it up to watch on YouTube, I recommend watching one of the versions from their live concert because their chemistry together is unreal. The words will appear in the fic, so it’s not completely necessary to look up the song…but you won’t regret it if you do. You’ll get more emotion behind the words if you listen to them with the music as opposed to if you just read them.

I do not own the song “Break First,” nor do I own Castle.

xxxxx

Standing at the bar tryin’ to get a drink

Got one I haven’t touched at the table

Somebody said you’re here, but I ain’t gonna leave

Maybe I’ll just act like you’re a stranger

Kate was sitting at the airport bar next to the handsome Scotland Yard Detective Inspector, nursing her glass of whiskey…whiskey, because after the day–well, few days–she’d had, there was no way she could settle for beer or even wine, and her only answer when Colin had asked what she wanted had been to say whatever he was drinking.

There was nothing particularly wrong with Colin. He was ridiculously handsome, sexy even…she’d snuck a peek at his body when his towel had dropped. He definitely checked off all the boxes from a physical standpoint. He was interesting enough, and even if he wasn’t, he had an accent that automatically made everything he said more interesting simply because of how it sounded coming out of his mouth. They even had things in common professionally.

So no…Colin wasn’t a bad date. But she found herself doing her best to feign interest as he talked, as her mind kept wandering. She kept replaying how Castle had pulled up to her crime scene in his Ferrari with that blonde floozy, and much as it had that night, she felt her heart clench and a sinking feeling in her gut. Lanie’s voice echoed in her head–Like you waited too long. She took a drink of her whiskey at that thought.

As if on cue, she spotted him…no, them taking an empty table across the bar. Jacinda. She was pressed against his side like she was glued there, and Kate guessed she may as well have been with the way Castle’s hand was around her waist, holding her against him. And then her damn eagle eye spotted the blonde’s hand running up along his inner thigh; a wave of jealousy,

anger, and hurt rolled through her body, and she felt almost sick…definitely like she’d just been sucker punched.

Do you know how hard it is, tryin’ to hold a conversation

Knowing you’re right there across the room

So I don’t hear a word that they’re sayin’

No I don’t hear a word that they’re sayin’

“I’m sorry, Kate; I’m boring you,” Colin apologized, realizing he’d lost her attention.

“What? No…no, you aren’t boring me,” she tore her eyes away from the scene that was breaking her heart as she finished the alcohol in her glass and ordered another. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days,” she apologized, turning to face the bar in front of her completely so she no longer had to watch Castle get a handjob from his latest squeeze underneath his table.

Colin studied her a moment before turning to look in the direction she’d been staring daggers at moments ago. Seeing Castle and a blonde woman, he turned back to her. “Must be hard working with your ex. How long ago did you break up?”

“We didn’t break up.” Seeing his confused look, she continued. “He’s not my ex,” Kate told him simply.

“Really? I could have sworn you two…”

“No,” Kate interrupted him. “Castle and I have never dated,” she exaggerated her annunciation of the word dated as the bartender placed a fresh glass in front of her, and she took a drink.

“Ah,” Colin nodded his understanding then. “But there’s something there?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I thought so.”

“But you don’t think so anymore?”

Kate offered a half-shrug and took another sip of her drink, letting the burn of the alcohol take the edge off the sting of it all. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin'?”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Castle had spotted her almost as soon as he’d entered the bar with Jacinda. He was a writer…he paid attention to the details. Even with the uncomplicated distraction of the attractive woman on his arm, there was no way he wouldn’t spot Kate. Unfortunately, he also spotted him. Of course, she was there with Scotland Yard. Just one more guy she could add to the list of men she dated. It seemed like she was willing to date anyone but him…almost as though the first criteria a man had to meet to score a date with Kate Beckett was to simply not be Richard Castle.

He watched as the other man placed his hand on her arm, earning a small smile from her in return. The Englishman stood from his seat at the bar then, and Castle was relieved it seemed like he was leaving. Only then he leaned in and placed a kiss on Beckett’s cheek, and Castle saw red. He immediately slid the hand that had been on Jacinda’s waist down to her ass, leaning in to whisper into her ear with a smile, his lips grazing the skin of her neck.

I’m dancing with a girl, got my eyes closed

Actin’ like I’m lost in the music

All I’m thinkin’ ‘bout is holdin’ you close

I don’t know how much longer I can do this

When he pulled back slightly from Jacinda and braved a glace in Kate’s direction, he was pleased to find that Scotland Yard was gone. He’d probably had to catch his flight. But Kate was still there, drinking alone now. Part of him wondered if she’d noticed him come into the bar with Jacinda. Part of him hoped she had, wanted her to see the way the blonde woman wanted him, touched him. Part of him wanted her to know that he didn’t need her.

Only…he did. Because while the flight attendant was attractive and fun and uncomplicated, she just…wasn’t Kate. She wasn’t as beautiful as Kate. She wasn’t as witty as Kate. She didn’t smile or laugh like Kate. She definitely wasn’t as brilliant or as intelligent as Kate. Her eyes weren’t the right shade…her hair wasn’t the right color. He hated himself but he still wanted her…he still wanted Kate. Jacinda was nothing more than a blonde distraction, the same way Gina had been.

He closed his eyes, letting his mind play tricks on him, letting his mind convince him that it was Kate he had his arm around; it was Kate who had her body pressed up against his, whispering seductively into his ear; it was Kate’s hand on his thigh. For as long as he kept his eyes closed, it worked. As long as he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend that she loved him too, that she was with him…finally. Kate... But when he opened his eyes, it wasn't Kate’s hazel eyes looking back at him.

Do you know how hard it is, bein’ in this situation?

Knowing you were everything

And now havin’ to act like we’re nothing

And pretendin’ that I don’t still love you

“Who’s Kate?”

Castle froze. Shit. He hadn’t realized he’d said her name out loud, but obviously he had. “She’s nobody. Just…a character in a chapter of a book I’m writing,” he tried to cover. “I was trying to figure out how to say goodbye to her. Her chapter in my book is over.”

Jacinda wasn’t as quick or as brilliant as Kate, but she wasn’t completely dumb either. “Sounds more like an old girlfriend to me,” she stated, pulling back from him slightly.

“Well, she’s not,” he shrugged. “In fact, I can promise you that she is not now, nor has she ever been, my girlfriend.” That part was painfully true, unfortunately.

“I’ve got to go, Ricky. My flight is boarding soon,” she told him, slipping out of his grasp.

“Jacinda, wait…”

She paused and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. “When you finish working out whatever is going on with whoever Kate is, give me a call,” she told him, offering him a small smile before exiting the bar.

Castle sighed deeply. Damn it. He hadn’t ordered a drink when they’d entered because he was being nice about the fact that Jacinda couldn’t have one right before she went on duty. But now he definitely needed a drink. Only he couldn’t go up to the bar because Kate was still sitting there.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who's gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin’?”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Kate noticed the blonde leaving the bar out of the corner of her eye. She decided she had enough of this…whatever this was. Tossing back what was left of her whiskey, she placed her glass on the counter and slid out of the chair. She wasn’t drunk by any means…no, Kate Beckett could hold her liquor. But her filter was no longer operational after 3 glasses of whiskey. She marched right over to his table. She didn’t bother with pleasantries, she cut right to the chase. “What the hell are you doing?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing? I thought you said Scotland Yard…”

“His name is Colin,” Kate interrupted him angrily.

“Fine…I thought that Colin was flying back to London,” he countered, his own anger flaring.

“He did.”

“His departure for London obviously made him irresistible to you. Can’t get much more one foot out the door than a relationship with a man who is a 7-hour flight away from you,” he stated.

“Why do you care? Didn’t you have a date with Jacinda?” she practically spat her name.

“Jealous?” he smirked smugly.

“Of your flight attendant floozy? Please,” she snorted. But oh…she was jealous. Jealous of the way Castle looked at her. Jealous of the way Castle talked about her. Jealous of the way he so easily handed the keys to his Ferrari…his Ferrari…to her. Jealous of the fact that Jacinda had driven his Ferrari more in 3 days than she had in 3 years.

“You sound jealous.”

Kate clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not jealous. If you want to fuck your way through Delta’s entire fleet of flight attendants, be my guest. Just keep them the hell away from my crime scenes, and the hell away from my investigations,” she growled.

“Because you never mix business with pleasure,” he commented sarcastically.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorenson…you kissed him at the house of the kidnapped girl. Demming…you kissed him in the precinct, slept with him while you were working together too. Josh…paraded him around the precinct and couldn’t keep your hands off him. Now Colin. Only a matter of time before you sleep with him too…assuming you haven’t already. And those are just the ones I know about,” he said lowly.

She swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists as her anger flared. They were standing almost toe to toe now, staring each other down…no, more like glaring at each other. Her eyes were getting watery, and she hated, hated the fact that when she got this angry the tears came without her permission and were completely out of her control. “You’re a jackass,” she hissed lowly.

“You’re a coward and a liar,” he growled, trying to mask his hurt behind the venom in his tone.

Who’s gonna say, “What were we thinkin’?

Who’s gonna cut right through the tension?

Who’s gonna admit that they miss who worse?

Who’s gonna tell who how bad it hurts?

His words felt like a slap in the face, made her heart feel like it were being ripped apart by that bullet all over again. For a moment, she found herself wishing it had been a bullet ripping through her heart again; at least a bullet’s damage could be repaired easily by a doctor. The damage his words were causing, however, would require much more than the skilled hands of a surgeon.

Their eyes never left each other as they remained in their glare-down, standing so close they were invading each other’s personal space, neither one willing to back down. It wasn’t until she felt a couple of rogue tears slipping down her cheeks that she was finally the one to break first. “What the hell are we doing?” The words were soft when they fell from her lips, and she couldn’t hide the hurt in them. “What did I do to make you hate me?”

He simply stared hard at her for a moment before his eyes finally softened just slightly. “I don’t hate you.” He didn’t hate her. He could never hate her. But he did want to hurt her, inflict some pain the way she’d hurt him.

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it sure as hell feels like you do,” she wiped her cheeks. “I miss my partner…I miss my friend…I miss…you. So please…just…tell me what I did. Because this…” she gestured between them, “this hurts.”

“You want to talk about hurt?” he started. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to find out everything you believed in for almost a year, hoped for, were working toward for so long is nothing more than a lie from a coward too afraid to just come out and tell you it was never gonna happen?”

She shook her head. “Castle, what are you talking about?” She genuinely had no idea where all of this was coming from.

“I heard you,” he finally stated lowly.

“You heard me?” she shook her head, still not following.

He just stared at her. Did she really not know? “In interrogation. With the bombing suspect.”

She stared back at him, trying to put the pieces together. And then it clicked. Oh shit. “Castle…” she started. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not what I think?! Kate, you lied to me…this whole time you knew, you knew how I felt about you. And you said nothing!” he said lowly, the anger overruling the hurt in his tone at the moment. “And what’s worse…you made me think there was something between us, something worth waiting for. But the whole time…everything…it was all just a damn lie.”

That’s what all this was about. He’d been waiting for her…and now he thought there was nothing worth waiting for. “Castle, please…just…just let me explain…”

“Explain what, Kate? That instead of just telling me the truth you would rather lie? That you would rather just string me along for God knows what reason instead of just putting me out of my misery? That you would rather be in a relationship with literally anyone but me?”

“Castle, that’s not it!” she tried.

“I’m so tired of this dance, Kate. I’m so tired of doing this with you. Just…just tell me you don’t feel the same and let me go on with my life, let me get over you.”

“Castle…”

“Tell me!” he insisted.

“I love you, okay!” she finally practically yelled at him. Only the fact that the bar was busy kept her confession from being overheard by more than just a few of the closer patrons who, thankfully, didn’t seem to pay them much attention outside of a wayward look at the commotion.

He was frozen at her words. So was she. The look of panic in her eyes told him that she had no more meant to say those words than he had expected to hear them from her. But they were out now. “What?”

She was still frozen, like a deer in headlights. She could feel her heart racing as the walls seemed to be closing in. She could feel the grip of panic rising in her throat. And like a deer in headlights, she turned and ran.

“Kate!” he called after her. But she had caught him off guard with her words and her sudden movement, and it took him a few seconds to get his body to move to chase after her. By the time he made it out to the main terminal, he couldn’t spot her through the crowd of people heading for baggage claim at JFK. Damn it! But he knew where she was going. It was late, she didn’t have a case…she’d go home. And he’d meet her there. This was not over.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin’?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

“Kate!” he stood outside her apartment, banging on her door. When she didn’t open it, he kept banging. “Kate! I’m not leaving until you open the door and talk to me!” He banged on the door again to reiterate his point.

She stood on the other side of the door, her back leaning against it as she wrestled with herself over what to do. She could test him…let him keep banging and yelling and maybe he would get tired and just leave…but she would have angry neighbors. Or she could just open the damn door and face him. She’d rather have the angry neighbors. After a few moments of his continuous banging, she finally opened the door, ready to yell at him.

Only before she was able to say anything, he pushed into her apartment, took her face in his hands, and kissed her hard. The way he moved was so determined and swift that she had to grip his shirt to keep from falling backward. It took several moments for her to get past the shock of his action, but she finally gave herself over to the kiss, the grip on his shirt loosening slightly, her mouth softening under his lips.

His kiss was demanding and thorough. He’d loved her, wanted her, thought he would finally have her…only to have it ripped away because he thought she didn’t feel the same…to then have her admit, albeit accidentally, she did feel the same…and then run away from him. He was making it clear, there was no way she was getting out of this yet…they were going to work this out now. She wouldn’t be able to run from this.

When he finally pulled away, they both stared at each other breathing heavily for a few moments. Kate finally broke the eye contact and moved past him to close the door. “Castle…” she started, only to have him interrupt her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed softly, leaning her forehead against the door for a moment before finally turning to face him. “At first I didn’t know what parts were true, what things actually happened, when they happened. Castle…there were so many flashes of things…I didn’t know which ones were real, which ones I’d hallucinated, or which ones were drug-induced. I was a mess…I had to work through so many issues…” she tried to explain. “By the time I actually remembered and knew it was real…there were so many other issues I needed to work through. I didn’t know how to deal with everything. But I never lied to you about what I wanted.”

“So the relationship you mentioned wanting to have…”

“It was with you. I should have just said that…I shouldn’t have expected you to understand what I meant…” she shook her head. “I’ve been seeing a therapist, Castle. He helped me work through my shooting, my PTSD…he’s helped me with my wall. He’s still helping me,” she told him quietly. “I see him once a week.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he found himself asking her again.

She shrugged. “I just wanted to show up and put in the work without making any excuses,” she answered.

“So this therapist…he’s helped?”

She nodded. “He has.” She was quiet for a few moments. “I need you to understand that me not telling you I remember has nothing to do with how I feel about you. It is and was about me...it never had anything to do with you,” she told him softly. “And I’m sorry…I never meant for you to find out the way you did. I was going to tell you…”

“When?”

She was quiet for another few moments. “After this case, actually. When I asked if you had a minute to talk.”

“Only I didn’t…” he realized, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, Kate…about Jacinda…I just, I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” she held up her hand to stop him. “Did you sleep with her?” she asked quietly after a few moments. She needed to know.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m not going to lie…I tried. I wanted to. But every time we got close I…I couldn’t,” he admitted quietly. “I felt like I was cheating on you, and I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Castle…” she murmured, moving into his arms, burying her face in his chest and just inhaling him.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, resting his head on top of hers as he held her tightly. “I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…” he murmured.

Her arms tightened around him as well as she turned her head to look up at him. “Me too,” she

murmured. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “Are we…okay?” she asked nervously.

He looked down at her. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, considering?” he asked softly.

“We’re ok,” she nodded, resting her head back against his chest.

He released a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t messed this up. “We’re ok,” he repeated with a smile.

She felt a weight lift off her chest as he repeated her words. She hadn’t messed this up. “Castle…” she looked up at him. “That wall I told you about? It’s coming down,” she told him.

“I’d like to be here when it does,” he told her seriously.

She bit her lip again as she smiled slightly. “Maybe…we can knock the rest of it down together?”

“You mean…?” he trailed off with his question, wanting to make sure they were understanding each other since they seemed to have issues actually communicating with anything beyond subtext.

“I mean together,” she nodded. “I’m tired of waiting. We’ve both waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Her words brought a smile to his face. “Together…” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her, this one much slower and more gentle than the last.

She smiled against his lips, her hands sliding up his back to pull him closer as she returned his kiss. "So...can I drive your Ferrari now?" she asked softly with a smile.

He chuckled at that. "Kate, you can drive my Ferrari whenever you want," he promised, kissing her again.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna break?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

xxxxx

So this fic didn’t exactly go way I had envisioned it when the idea struck me, but I’m still pretty pleased with how it turned out.

And now I can go back to writing the newest chapters for Hell Hath No Fury and It

Started With a Kiss.

I hope you all enjoyed this little angsty piece. I look forward to your comments!

#castle #caskett #kate beckett #richard castle #castle fanfiction

[wibble-wobbegong]

tag rant on more mutualism stuff

#im still stuck on the whole idea of mutuals #like as a concept it’s just so interesting. people who aren’t quite friends but like to see into the world of another and maybe interact #with it #like for me i’ve never been in a discord or had any real conversations with my mutuals. idk why but it just hasn’t really happened #but like for me im looking at these people who say they want to be a part of my world too even if we don’t really know each other and that’s #one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard of #like. okay i learned that mutual circles are a thing but im not really in one of those #im mutuals with mike a couple people from a few different mutual circles #which mutual circles kinda confuse me because that just sounds like a friend group but I’ve also never been in one so idk #ANYWAY i get the pleasure of seeing into so many different spaces and seeing so many different people with the knowledge that they’re #interested in what i have to say too. we may never talk but i’ll see an rb or a like from someone and #it’s just so sick to know that there are people out there who would want to interact with my stuff #and it’s different from a non-mutual because you know that that feeling of interest is mutual #i have two or three mutuals i semi converse with through posts and the way that spread to mutual in laws #there are so many worlds overlapping in so many different ways when it comes to mutuals #and obviously everyone has their own definition of this concept and what a mutual actually is #im not always sure where i stand with people and how im supposed to interact with them if we’ve barely interacted beyond likes and stuff #but it’s still so cool????? #and then some of you guys are actually talking and having conversations and you create these massive conversative posts and im kinda just in #awe of the fact that that happens. people find each other and create things like that constantly and it’s fucking amazing #i don’t really know how to or if im even supposed to be making connections like that but im definitely stunned by it #having someone to share your ideas with and bouncing off each other? it’s insane to watch #i cannot fathom what that’s like but it just seems so so cool #and that’s not me begging for pity points but i literally just don’t know if i’d be capable of doing that so it’s cool to see #and im being ALLOWED to see that. encouraged to see it even #im not a part of it but im allowed to exist in that space too #mutuals man. fucking wild as hell #you guys have no idea how cool i think you all are

[lyssasdrafts]

ENCHANTED — azriel x reader

includes: strangers to lovers, love at first sight, autumn court!reader, lucien and eris being protective brothers

“i’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, i was enchanted to meet you.”

azriel felt out of place. he knew he didn’t belong here, trying not to give it away as he kept adjusting his new coat. he didn’t know what to think of being dragged to this formal event — a party at the autumn court.

he wasn’t here to make friends, he needed to come with rhys to gather information, to be allowed to sneak into the autumn court’s palace. no one here needed to know about his upbringing or what he’s done, though it was hard to ignore the way people stared at his illyrian wings.

rhys would be here too, but he was busy keeping track of eris and the high lord to help azriel navigate this. this was his job, he was a spy.

the autumn court felt lifeless, even if it was your home. sometimes you’d wondered what it was like outside these four castle walls. a part of you was excited for this ball, even if you’d been told they were typically boring. it had took a lot of convincing for them to let you out, and you still had your older brother by your side. “stay close to me, y/n,” lucien insisted, “and tell me if you need anything.”

azriel’s eyes had met yours once he walked into the room. he let himself stare for a moment too long at how graceful you’d looked. he suddenly starts to hear his own heartbeat before he starts thinking about the person standing next to you, it clicked after he heard the way you were addressed and how you called lucien your brother.

rhys whispered in his ear, “there’s another vanserra?” and azriel shook his head. how come he’d never heard of you? or worse, had the chance to meet you? with rhysand’s nod of approval and the wink his friend gave, he approached you.

“i didn’t know you had another sibling, lucien.” his shadows seemed excited, and he tried to keep them quiet. he looked right into your eyes, ignoring the person he was even addressing. “i didn’t know beron had another child…”

“he’s not fond of me,” you say to break the tension. you blinked a few times, taking in the figure of the man in front of you.

you’d never left the autumn court. you watched as your older brothers were allowed to leave to wherever they wanted, how lucien would run off to the spring court with tamlin, while you had to stay and tend to the castle.

if this is what people looked like in the other courts, you were missing out.

azriel reached his hand out to you, his voice softened, “then may i have this dance with you?” you looked at your brother, pleading in your eyes to let you have this night, and he nodded. something felt like he’d trusted that azriel was a good person. he mouthed something about being careful and to go.

you thanked the mother, knowing that your father or anyone else from the court would’ve turned azriel away immediately. you took his hand and smiled before he lead you away.

locking your fingers together, his other hand reaches your waist before the music starts again. you were impressed; you could tell he wasn’t experienced with dancing in a ballroom, he didn’t have the same training you did, his movements were stiff and his steps were careless. but you could see that he was trying his best to move along with the music, his shadows dancing around too.

“so,” he began to talk over the music, “tell me, why haven’t we met before?” the question he’s really been wondering.

he had to pull you in closer for the dance, not missing the opportunity despite his nervousness. you responded, “i’ve never left the autumn court, unfortunately. where are you from?”

“that’s a shame,” he says quietly. “i’m from the night court, here on our behalf. you should pay us a visit.” he spins you around and you’re caught off guard by the last part.

he catches you, though, and holds you by the waist. “i promise we’re more interesting,” he chuckles.

you almost laugh at him, except you give him sidelong glance instead. “i highly doubt that,” you defend, but your tone says otherwise.

“then let me show you,” he mutters. “what’s your name, beautiful?”

you freeze again, taking a moment just to stare at him. the way his hair was parted but got in the way of his face, how his gaze felt like he wanted more than just to look at you, how he his hands were around you, making you drawn to someone in a way you haven’t been before. and he was calling you the beautiful one?

you cleared your throat, “it’s y/n,” before you add a smile.

he nods at you, the secret autumn heir. he repeats your name and watches your reaction, seeming amused when you look up at him again. you can feel rhysand and your brother’s eyes on you, they were watching you thoughtfully from a distance. did you seem interested in azriel? were you getting close with him?

he notices you tensing up, grabbing your hand again and continuing where you’d left off with the music. azriel twirls you around once more, except this time he missteps, stepping on your foot instead. you winced, “do they not give you dance lessons at the night court?”

“i’m so sorry for that,” he stops, standing still in front of you. “you could probably tell it was my first time…” he softens again, “are you hurt?”

“your foot barely touched mine, it’s okay,” you laugh. you’ve definitely seen worse princes and suitors. “i should talk to your high lord about those lessons, then.”

“they do offer them…” he starts. “it’s just… not part of my responsibilities.”

you blink at him. someone with a connection to the royal line who hasn’t gone to these parties? “what is your job there?”

“i’m the night court’s spymaster.”

“spymaster?” you repeat in a whisper, tilting your head.

his shadows surround the both of you, almost trying to make this moment feel more intimate. you thought about the excitement he must feel, being able to sneak off and go wherever he wanted. you know it wasn’t an easy job, but a part of you envied that his life was probably full of mysteries and exploits. perhaps that was how azriel already came across your brother before you’d met.

you wanted him to stay in the desolate and empty autumn court for longer. you wanted him for yourself. a possibility sparked in your eyes and you looked at him with some kind of disappointment. did he have someone waiting for him at the night court? was he already taken?

in that moment, you wished to the mother and the cauldron for nothing else, but for you to be able to have this. even just a moment of freedom and openness with this… stranger.

he’d slowly felt entranced by you too, wanting to learn everything about you. how did you feel being kept a secret? did you want to see the night court… with him? he wanted to hold onto you tighter, as if beron decided he’d had enough and wanted to take you away.

“my brother… he’s probably waiting,” your voice sounds flat. azriel hadn’t realized how much time passed, how many steps you’d travelled around the ballroom during your conversation before you had stopped.

“y/n,” you hear a sharper voice calling for you. it wasn’t lucien, who you could try to convince with a pleading gaze and sulk, it was eris. he had stepped in to cut your night with azriel short.

“i think they want me to go back,” you say. “and your own high lord is probably waiting too.”

“will i see you again?” you try not to sound desperate. this feeling had been one that you’d never thought of before in all your sheltered years living at your family’s expense, a puppet for the autumn court. you’d felt flustered, like you were a child again, for the first time. there was an eagerness, like the thought of romance had brought back your hope.

azriel’s frown matched yours, you noticed the flash of disappointment in his eyes. he hesitantly pulled his hand away, “thank you for dancing with me, it was a pleasure, y/n. i hope you know you’re always invited to the night court. i will talk to rhysand to—” he stops himself. “i really hope i can see you again, too.”

his shadows were dispirited, looking sad as they left you. azriel he bowed his head at you, grabbing your hand and placing a last kiss.

you stop him before he walks away. “i never asked—” you say. “what’s your name?”

“azriel,” he gives you one last wink. “azriel shadowsinger. i hope i’ll see you around.” a smile at the thought of you escaped from him.

“shadowsinger,” his name leaves your lips. you whisper it, recalling the image of him in your mind. you didn’t know how long it would take for you to see it again, or if you ever would, but mother-blessed you wished to.

“it was enchanting to meet you.”

#— love lyssa #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar azriel #night court x reader #inner circle x reader #inner circle x you

[cozage]

May i ask a headcanon list for Luffy, Sanji and Zoro reaction to their s/o being a cp0 agent?

A/N: I am just now noticing as I finish up this work that you asked for a headcanon LIST. Forgive me for the mix-up!

Characters: female reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro Cw: betrayal, angst with no happy ending  Total word count: 1.6k

Double Agent

Luffy

“It can’t be,” Luffy muttered from the doorway.  

Shit. You had been compromised. Luffy was supposed to be off in the jungle. How had he tracked you to this abandoned building?

“Luffy!” you hissed, stepping in front of the other agent. “What are you doing here?”

“I left that emergency steak with you,” he said, his eyes wide. You had promised him your lunch and forgotten to give it to him. Of course he followed the scent here. 

“We have to get rid of him,” the agent behind you said, reaching for his weapon. You didn’t even know his name, but you couldn’t let him kill the captain of the Stawhats. 

“Absolutely not!” you reached for your own weapon, glaring at him. “You know our orders.”

“If you’re position is compromised-”

“Then killing the captain isn’t going to help much!”

The other agent raised his brow. “Getting soft? They’re pirates. It’s reckless to let him live.”

You scoffed. “You’re the one being reckless. Leave him be. We can still watch from afar.”

“This is a joke, right?” Luffy’s shaky voice came from the doorway again, full of uncertainty. 

You steeled yourself and faced him, putting on a bored face. “It is no joke. I’m afraid I’ve just been sloppy in covering my tracks.”

“You can’t be CP-0.” His face slowly turned to rage. “You would never-”

“Apparently you’ve sparked the interest of some very important people.”

The man behind you clicked his tongue in disapproval. You were saying too much. But you needed Luffy to leave here. He had to leave alive. 

Luffy stared into your eyes, and you swore he was staring into your soul. “I refuse to believe this is the real you. I know you. I love you. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me at all, Monkey D. Luffy.” You put an extra taunt in his full name. “You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of.” You gave him a wicked grin, letting the worst parts of yourself out into the open for him to see. 

“Come back to the Sunny,” he begged, unphased by the wickedness on your face. “We can figure it out together.”

“I have no reason to return there. Besides, you would just make me a prisoner when I set foot on deck.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed. “I would never restrain you-”

“Leave, Luffy.” You tried your hardest to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Leave now, or don’t leave at all.”

“Permission to terminate, then?” The Agent took a step towards Luffy, and it took everything in you to remain where you stood. 

You pulled out your weapon and threw all of your hate into the stare you gave Luffy. “Leave.”

“This isn’t over until we talk-”

You fired a warning shot, missing his head by a centimeter. “Leave.”

“I’ll get you back. This isn’t over,” Luffy promised, and then he walked out the door. 

Sanji

“This is an interesting place for a picnic, my love!” Sanji’s kind voice rang out amongst the trees. “Where are you hiding?”

The other agent’s eyes widened. “You left a trail?” she hissed.

“Never,” you whispered back. “I-”

“There you are!” Sanji launched himself toward you, wrapping you in a hug. “And who is this fine young woman with you? Did you bring company?”

The agent’s hand moved to her gun, and you gave one quick shake, trying to prevent her from blowing your cover.

“Just a friend,” you said between gritted teeth. “We were just saying goodbye. Could you give us a moment, Sanji?”

“The lady can stay if she’d like!” Sanji quickly said. “I have plenty-”

“I would never sully myself with such company,” the woman snapped. She looked at you. “You’re being called back in.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“Come on,” the woman said. “No more use for appearance. We’ll leave him alive for now.”

Sanji, somehow, kept up a smile. He had no idea what was occurring, but you could tell that he was nervous. 

“My love?” He asked, looking at you with a forced smile and worry in his eyes.

“I have to go, Sanji.” You shouldered your backpack with everything you had collected. 

“No,” he said softly. “You can stay. I don’t know who this woman is but-”

“This woman is your lover’s superior,” the woman said. “And she never loved you. She was just using you for intel.”

“No. Tell them, my love. Tell them what a mistake they have made.”

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. He was a pirate. You were a government agent. It was supposed to be easier than this. You were used to betraying people, and yet this created a strange ache in your chest. 

“I work for CP-0,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was tasked to infiltrate your crew and obtain records. Watch you all from the inside.”

“Impossible-” Sanji said

But you had to keep going. You had to break him so he would never come looking for you. “I chose you because it was the easiest. You had access to everything. And when I needed to look for specific things, I added sleeping medicine to the tea you served everyone. It was too easy. 

“I don’t believe you.” Sanji had tears in his eyes now. “It wasn’t all fake.”

You sneered at him. “You were so desperate for love, you accepted the bare minimum of affection without a second thought.”

He slumped to his knees, his eyes getting a far-away look in them. Your heart cracked, but your face showed no emotion as you looked down at him. “I’m only letting you live now so you have to live with this failure. But I will come for you one day. And I will kill you.”

He gave a single nod of acknowledgement, as if he had expected this; as if he deserved it. 

He didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve him. But if you showed an ounce of weakness, you knew the agent next to you would kill him. So you turned and left, knowing that his empty stare would haunt your dreams forever. 

Zoro

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Zoro shouted. “Who the hell is that guy?”

The agent next to you fired a bullet before you could react, and you cried out in warning. But the bullet only met steel. Zoro had sliced right through it. 

“I knew you were getting weak. No wonder they wanted to pull you from this mission,” the agent chuckled. He kept his gun aimed at Zoro, but was watching you carefully. 

No. No. How had Zoro found you? He was the last person who should be here right now. He always got lost. How on earth had he found you?

Zoro was still staring at you, waiting for an answer. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the man or the weapons he had. 

“Stand down,” you growled between clenched teeth. 

“I do not take orders from you,” the agent snarled back. 

Zoro was still watching. Hell, how could you play this to get him out alive? You couldn’t have him getting hurt. You had already said your goodbyes in letters to the crew. You had made up some reason to leave. But Zoro, of all people, had managed to find you. 

“I’m leaving the crew!” you shouted to him. 

A trace of hurt passed over Zoro’s face. “You’re taking some government recruitment position over us? You can’t be serious.”

“Not recruitment,” the agent next to you purred, and you froze. “Have you ever heard of CP-0, Roronoa Zoro? Of course you have. You were at Enies Lobby, weren’t you?”

You stiffened at his words. You could see Zoro trying to figure out the secret meaning the man was taunting home with. 

Just leave, you begged silently. Please leave. 

But the agent sent to retrieve you was not finished burning bridges for you. “Your “crewmate” here isn’t a new recruit. No, they’re a seasoned veteran of the organization.”

Zoro stilled. Only his fingers twitched, itching to reach for his blade as he watched you with predator-like senses. 

“Zoro,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what to say, but you had to say something to him.

“Go. Get out of my sight.” You could see him shaking. From rage, most likely. From betrayal. 

The agent next to you gave a humorous laugh. “Do you think we are going to let you live?”

“We are letting him live,” you said, too quiet for Zoro to hear. “That was the agreement.”

The agent gave you a wicked smile. “He brought this upon himself, following you out here.”

“Let him go,” you snarled softly. “Or you will not leave this island.”

You had been baited. You knew it the moment his eyes lit up. Proof that your allegiance was to the Strawhats over CP-0. Proof that you needed to be reprogrammed in some capacity. 

He waved a hand lazily at Zoro. “You may go. We have to go as well. We have some work to do.”

You gave Zoro one last look, trying to convey how sorry you were about everything. He should’ve just stayed on the ship, read the damn letter, and accepted that you had left the crew.  

Your eyes met Zoro’s just for a moment, and then you turned away and followed the agent down the path. And as much as you wanted to, you didn’t look back. 

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #sanji x y/n #roronoa zoro #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #cozage #✧˚luffy✧˚ #✧˚sanji✧˚ #✧˚zoro✧˚

[mcondance]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 17+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear you go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

#this was so hot #love u nonny #stu macher smut #stu matcher x reader #stu macher x you #stu macher x black!reader #stu macher x black reader #scream 1996 smut #scream smut #stu smut #[manipulative stu]

[gloomwitchwrites]

A Clone's Future

CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance

Word Count: 4.1k

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”

Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.

“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.

The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”

Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”

Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”

Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”

Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”

“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.

Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”

What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.

“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.

“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.

Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.

Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?

“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”

Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”

“Fives—”

“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”

Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”

Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”

Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.

Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”

The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.

Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.

Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.

This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.

Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.

Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.

Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.

Tries is the key word.

Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.

He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.

The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?

Or is she something else entirely?

Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?

These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.

The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.

With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.

But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.

Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.

It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.

These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.

His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.

This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.

The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.

Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.

He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.

“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.

His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.

Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.

Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.

There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”

Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.

“In here. Quickly.”

Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.

Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.

Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.

He finds…you.

And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.

There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.

The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.

When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.

But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?

“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”

Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”

Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”

Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”

Friend, then.

Rex can work with that.

You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.

“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.

What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?

Rex knows but stifles the thought again.

“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.

The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.

“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”

You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.

You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.

Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.

“May I take a look?”

Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.

He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.

This isn’t.

You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.

Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?

“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.

What the kriffing hell is going on with him?

You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.

“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”

“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”

Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”

“Oh—”

“But if you want—”

“It’s—”

“I can cut it.”

“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.

With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.

“It’ll be cold.”

“I know,” answers Rex quickly.

Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”

Kriff me.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.

Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.

The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.

“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.

Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.

It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.

“You can move your hand now.”

“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.

Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.

“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”

We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.

You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.

Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.

He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.

But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.

But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.

The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.

“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.

“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.

“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”

“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”

You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.

“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.

“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”

“Just Rex.”

“Okay, Just Rex.”

He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”

“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.

Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.

You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”

Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.

The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.

“Sleeping, Rex?”

Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.

In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.

He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”

General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.

He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.

“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”

Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.

“Can you walk?”

Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”

Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”

Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.

At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”

The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.

“What?” asks Rex, flustered.

“You like her,” says Skywalker.

“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”

General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”

“Sir. That explains nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.

Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”

General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.

“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”

“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”

After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.

Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.

With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”

Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.

The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.

The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex fic #captain rex fluff #tcw rex x reader #ct 7567 #clone captain rex #the clone wars #tcw fanfic #tcw rex #star wars fluff #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #rex x reader #rex x you #star wars clone wars #clone fluff #sw fluff #sw fic #sw fanfic #tcw fanfiction #star wars fanfics #clone wars fic #captain rex x fem!reader #captain rex x female reader #captain rex x f!reader #tcw fic

[walesfootball]

She - Alexia Putellas x Reader (PART 1)

To celebrate me going to see Harry Styles tonight I wanted to post this Alexia fic I've been writing. I kinda forgot that I'd written this so here ya go! I'll try to get the next parts out quick (if you like it), haven't planned where it's going but we shall see. Let me know what you think!

You and Alexia have been friends for a few years. You’d met when you worked a summer job in Barcelona’s kit department. You’d get everyone’s kit ready and clean everything from their kits, training kits, and their boots. The both of you started talking one day, and have been close friends ever since.

You were sat sprawled out on Alexia’s sofa, as the latter was in the kitchen making the both of you a drink. All week, Alexia seemed stressed out, which was unlike her. You had asked her every day if she was okay, but nothing back. A simple ‘fine’ or ‘of course’ and she’d change the subject. You knew there wasn’t much you could do when Alexia got like this. Just to leave her alone and she’d open up when she’s ready. That didn’t help your frustration.

Alexia came into the living room, putting the drinks on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and grabbed your legs to sit them on top of her lap.

“Um… I’ve been wanting to ask, but… I don’t know how to say it properly.” Alexia started. You propped up on your elbows, eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“What is it?” You impatiently said.

“You see. It’s complicated.”

You waited for her to continue, but Alexia said nothing. She played with her fingers, while her eyes were fixed on the drinks on the coffee table.

“Hey, look at me,” You tapped her gently on her forearm to get her attention, “whatever it is, however complicated it may be, everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. And you’re really scaring me.”

Alexia finally looked towards you, now propped up on your hands to get a better look at Alexia’s face.

“I have a wedding to go to next week.”

“Is that it?”

“You didn’t let me finish!” Alexia joked, chuckling a little at your impatience.

“Sorry, sorry. So you’ve been invited to a wedding. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But… I might’ve told my mother that I have a date to go with me.”

“You didn’t tell me you’ve been dating someone!” You said, a little hurt that Alexia would keep something like this from you.

“That’s the thing… I haven’t. But I told my mother I have because she says it’s been too long since I’ve found someone.”

You looked at Alexia’s nervous disposition. It’s fair to say that over the past few years that you’ve known each other, you had developed some feelings for Alexia. Ingrid always told you to tell Alexia how you felt. You’d made good friends with the Norwegian while working at the kit department in Barcelona too. She was the one who coaxed the crush out of you, telling you she had a feeling it was Alexia with the way you'd blushed when Alexia even looked at you.

To think Alexia was dating someone else without telling you broke your heart. But losing Alexia as a friend because you couldn’t control how you felt, now that hurt more. So you’d never told her.

“Okay, so you’re looking for a date? How about you ask Patri?”

“They’ve met Patri and know she’s dating someone else.”

“Alright, well how about Jenni?”

“Why would I ask my ex to be my fake girlfriend to a wedding?” Alexia asks incredulously.

“I mean, it would be kinda believable. They’ll just think you got back together.”

“She’s in Mexico. And I’m not asking Jenni!”

“What about-?” You were stopped in your tracks as a pillow crashed into your face.

“I was going to ask you!”

“What? Really?” This shocked you. ‘Fuck! She likes me too,’ you thought! 'Yes! I don’t need to say anything.’

“Well, my family have never met you. You know me very well. I’ll just say we’ve been dating for a while, but I wanted to make sure it was serious,” You realised what Alexia was saying. She wanted to pretend you were dating, “I can’t find someone in a week to go with me to a wedding. And my family knows the team.”

“This is absolutely insane, you know that right? I’m a really bad liar, Ale. I can’t pull this off!” You had always been the worst liar, your anxiety crept up and the truth needed to be said.

“I know but you’re the only one I trust to do this! Por favor, Y/N. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“Have you tried maybe being honest?” You knew it sounded harsh, but you didn’t think acting like a couple and everyone else thinking you were a couple was a good idea, especially when you fancied the pants off Alexia. Who wouldn’t? Alexia is the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of when you go to sleep. You’re constantly thinking of what Alexia is doing if she’s eaten, if she’s okay. All of the cliches to do with liking and loving someone, you’ve been there.

“I can’t be honest with my family now, they think I’m really happy with this girl! The only person in my life who I can do this with is you.” Alexia pleaded with you. You looked at her for a few seconds, thinking about how bad of an idea this was. You then saw the look of desperation in her eyes and knew you had to do it.

“Well, aren’t you in luck that I’m available next week?” Alexia pounced on you, her arms around your neck and her legs on either side of your body. You held her back with your arms around her waist, nervously.

Alexia pulled back to look at you, with a coy smile on her face, “Gracias. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Anytime. So who’s wedding is it?”

———

Over the next week, you and Alexia went shopping for new outfits for Alexia’s cousin Maria’s wedding. Alexia always found a way of thanking you for going with her as a date. This never settled your nerves.

“I just don’t know what to do, or how to act. I can barely talk without sounding like an idiot.”

“You’re overthinking this. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just told her?” You looked at Ingrid in disgust. This was the irony of being a bad liar, you kept her biggest secret from one of her best friends, and you don’t know how.

You and Ingrid had met up in a nearby cafe in Barcelona. It was mainly Ingrid laughing at your inevitable breakdown about going to a wedding with your crush and having to act like a couple.

“Yeah good idea, Ingrid. Hi Ale, for the last year now I’ve realised I’ve got a fat crush on you and I would love to do couple-y things with you, but I’ve been too much of a pussy to tell you and- oh, damn, okay, you don’t want to be my friend anymore because you don’t see me in that way. Oh no, I’ve lost my best friend. I’m such an idiot. I could’ve just avoided all of that by not telling her. The end.”

Ingrid sat on the opposite side of the table, with her hand holding the right side of her face, smiling at this massive idiot in front of her, “You’re so annoying sometimes.”

“Love isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. It’s very fucking difficult, Ingrid.”

“I know, but I have a feeling she likes you too.”

“You have a feeling? You know, I’m pretty sure Adolf Hitler had a feeling things would work out for him in World War 2, but look what happened there.”

“I can’t believe you just compared me to Hitler. But! My point is, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, the way she always keeps her eye on you at parties because she knows you don’t like big crowds, the way she’s always at your house or you're at hers, the way she ran after training ended because she didn’t want to be late to meet up with you. The list is endless.”

You stared at Ingrid, a look of interest yet still undecided. “A lot of friends do that though.”

“Do they?! You were 10 minutes late meeting up with me.” Ingrid countered your argument.

“I was… on the phone with Ale,” Ingrid looked at you in an ‘I-told-you-so’ way, “No! You can’t do that! I can’t tell her! This is a massive deal for her to turn up to this wedding with a date on her arm, and I’m lucky enough to pretend to be her date. I would love for it to be more, but I am not ready to lose Alexia. I can’t. I don’t want to ruin things in case she only sees me as a friend. And I hear you, she might like me too. But what if she doesn’t? I care for her too much to let her down.”

“Okay. But after you come back from this wedding, and you tell me you’re dating, I can’t wait to say I told you so.” Ingrid leaned back in her chair, with her arms and legs crossed, trying to prove a point.

“Alright, whatever.” You gave up trying to plead your case.

———

You and Alexia were out for dinner a day before meeting Alexia’s family. Alexia wanted to introduce you to her sister, Alba, and her mother, Eli, before the wedding ceremony. Both girls were nervous about the occasion; not just about you meeting Alexia’s family for the first time, but about acting and going as a couple.

“So what are the rules exactly? How are we going to make this believable?” You asked, as you took a sip of the water and placed it back down on the table.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” Alexia shrugged.

“Well, I guess we hold hands and stuff?” You said in an unsure tone, almost scared to bring some things up.

“It shouldn’t be too hard. We hug all the time and hold hands. We’ve shared the same bed a lot.”

“What about… kissing? That’s what couples do, right? They kiss. Do we… you know? Do that?”

“I think. Couples kiss, sí?” Alexia nervously played with the food on her plate, not wanting to look up at the judgment in your eyes.

If Alexia did look up at that moment, she would’ve seen a pair of eyes just as nervous as hers. If not more. Eyes that portray the amount of love you felt for this woman, and how much you wanted this to go right for Alexia, even if it meant ignoring your strong feelings.

“Have you told your mum about me?” You asked, curious to know what the woman you've heard so much about thinks of Alexia’s new girlfriend.

“Sí, I told her yesterday I’m taking you. She can’t wait to meet you.”

Alexia had decided it was going to be you she was going to take to the wedding, even before she asked her friend. She wanted more than ever for you to agree to this, not only to get her mother off her back on dating but as a way of trying to pick up the courage to tell you that she’s liked you ever since she saw you folding up her training kit. Alexia will never forget the day you met. Y/N folding everyone’s kit while singing along to ‘Sign Of The Times' by Harry Styles… very loudly. Alexia had stopped in the door as soon as she heard the massive crescendo of a voice, filling up the room as if an audience was watching. Your earphones clearly on full blast. Alexia stood there with a smile on her face, waiting until the song had finished. After a pause, the Spaniard thought it was safe to enter the room to ask you a question about her kit. Until you had started singing another Harry Styles song, ‘Carolina’, very loudly again. Clearly a massive Harry Styles fan, a thought she had while watching you sing and dance. She remembers you jumping in surprise as you turned around to find an entertained look on the other girl’s face and then bursting out laughing. And the rest, as they say, is history.

“Ale, are you sure you want to do this? If it’s too much-”

“It’s not too much! I’m just nervous about everything.” Alexia had turned pale at the thought of lying to her mum and sister, people who she too considers her best friends. Alexia had always been very close to her family, but her mum wanted to see her happy with someone.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’ll all work out. We’ll meet your family, go to the wedding, and come back. It’s done.” You explained, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world, even if in both your minds it was the hardest.

“You make it sound so easy. I know they’ll love you as much as I do, it’ll be hard for anyone to dislike you.”

You blushed, masking it by taking a sip of your drink. Alexia saw the way she had affected you, and smiled down at her feet, proud of herself.

———

The next morning, Alexia drove the both of you to her mum’s house. After dinner last night, she felt ready for the day ahead. The both of you knew each other very well, how could this go wrong? You didn’t sleep at all after dinner on the other hand. You thought you’d do something wrong or say the wrong thing. Something had to go wrong during your time of fake dating. Something!

As the car stopped in front of the house, Alexia grabbed your hand which was sitting in your own lap, nervously fidgeting with the hole in your jeans.

“You’re okay. I’m here. I won’t leave your side.”

You nodded, Alexia giving you the confidence to open the door and get your and Alexia’s bags from the boot. Alexia opens the door of her childhood home, her sister almost sprinting out to greet her.

“Lexia! Where is she? Where is this girl you’ve been hiding from us?!” Alexia went red from the attention as Alba shook her with annoyance at not having met her new girlfriend.

“Nice to see you too. She’s getting the bags.” Alexia smiled at her sister, almost excited at the way Alba called you her girlfriend.

“Charming. I like it.”

You rounded the car with two bags in your hands, smiling at the siblings. Your cheeks flushed from the heat.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Alba. We’ve heard so much about you!” Alba hugged you straight away, not giving you a second to breathe as the bags dropped to the floor in surprise.

Alexia’s mother was next to come through the door. “Come in! My name is Eli, Alexia talks about you all the time!”

“She does?”

“We’ve only just found out you were her girlfriend this whole time!”

Alexia interrupted, seeing the scared look on your face of disappointing your ‘girlfriends’ mother almost instantly, “No, we’ve been dating for a little over 8 months, mama. I didn’t tell you about her sooner because I didn’t want to mess anything up with her.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Alexia being so serious about a girl before. Not even Jenni.” Her mother said before returning back to the house with a spatula in her hand.

Alexia put her face in her hands, horrified her mum said that. You laughed as you pulled Alexia’s wrists down gently to see her flushed cheeks. Alexia found a taunting smile on your face.

“Your mum’s really cool.”

“You would say that. She likes to make fun of me like you do.”

You laughed at the teasing tone you were given. You grabbed the bags from the floor and winked at Alexia, almost to say ‘You’re doing good’. Alexia felt her shoulders drop as the nervousness seeped away bit by bit.

Alba watched the both of you the whole time. The eye contact, the lingering touches, and the joy on her sister’s face when you teased her. You walked through the door and placed the bags in the living room.

Alba pulled Alexia back, “I like her already.”

They both continued on into the house with Alexia biting her lip. Of course, they’d like her best friend, you were perfect, Alexia thought.

———

The evening was spent around the dining table, the four of you chatting, mainly about this new relationship they’d only found out about a few days ago.

“So who made the first move? Tell me everything!” Alba excitedly said.

You and Alexia looked at each other straight away. You didn’t talk about this. You both chuckled awkwardly to see who would make the first move.

“Well…” You started, with an unsure smile on your face, another awkward laugh escaping from your mouth as you looked toward Alexia again.

“You’re better at telling this story, mi amor.” Alexia challenged, knowing this would infuriate you.

“Am I?” You said sarcastically.

“Sí. She loves telling this story.” Alexia smiled devilishly, keeping her laughter in. This is fun, she thought.

“Well… we got really drunk one night. Just the two of us. And Alexia asked me to dance. She knows how much I love Harry Styles, so we danced to ‘Sweet Creature’. And after the song finished, she told me she liked me more than a friend and I felt the same way too. And that’s that.” You smiled at how well you came up with that story. If in doubt turn to Harry Styles, it’s always been your life motto.

“That’s really cute!” Alba cheesed.

“And you’ve been together for 8 months? How did you keep that from us?” Eli said.

“I told you, mama. Y/N means a lot to me and I didn’t want to say something too early and we break up.”

Alba and Eli were beaming toward the both of you. You reached down for Alexia’s hand in her lap and intertwined your fingers to relax her, offering a small smile. Alexia looked over and gave you a grateful smile. It was only the both of you in the room when you looked at each other.

“You two are so cute! When is your wedding?!” Alba exclaimed.

You all laughed as you finished their dinner.

———

As night fell, Alexia took you up to the bedroom. The double bed waiting for you, along with an en suite.

“This is nice. Beautiful view of the garden too.” You said, as you put the bags down on the bed and made your way to the window.

“There’s only one bed, so we’ll have to share. Is that okay?” Alexia said nervously.

“Like you said, we’ve shared a bed loads of times before. It’s just that your mum and sister will probably think we’re having sex.”

Alexia laughed nervously, “Thank you for this. I mean it.”

“You’ve said thank you about a million times. And I always tell you that it’s okay. I don’t mind. Your family is lovely.”

“Were we believable, you think?”

“Did you hear my story about how we got together? I’d say that was pretty believable.”

“That actually happened. Just without the kissing part.”

“What can I say? I’m the best.” You exclaimed as you climbed onto the bed with your arms raised above your head to prove a point.

“Get down from there. You’ll hurt yourself.” Alexia laughed as she looked up with wonder in her eyes.

“Admit that I’m the best. And then I’ll get down.”

“No. I’m not giving you that satisfaction.”

“But it’s true. What did you call me before? In Spanish? A ‘mi amor’? Whatever that is, I’m your that.”

“You don’t know what it means?” Alexia crossed her arms.

“I don’t speak Spanish, you know this. Only the basics. I speak enough to get some food in me.”

“You are the worst. Not the best.”

It was your turn to cross your arms, trying to feign annoyance. Alexia smiled up at you once more.

“Come down, amor.”

“Help me down.”

Alexia holds onto your waist as you hold onto the Spaniard’s forearms for balance. Neither of you broke the eye contact that was being held at this moment. As you stepped down in front of Alexia you felt nervous. Alexia looks deep into your eyes, biting her bottom lip to stop her from doing anything stupid. You look up at the slightly taller girl, eyeing her lovingly, and look back down as you felt a blush creeping up your neck and in your cheeks.

Alexia leans her forehead on your left shoulder, burying her face in your neck. Alexia chuckles suddenly, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Neither can I.” You tucked herself in Alexia’s neck too, a place which always brought comfort to you whatever you were feeling. You began playing with the baby hairs, poking out from Alexia’s ponytail, calming her down instantly. Alexia’s arms circle around your waist in an effort to bring you closer, burying her face deeper into the crook of your neck, if that was even possible.

“Come on, I’m tired. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” You said, pulling away from Alexia, despite the comfort.

#woso imagine #women’s football #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso

[sinofwriting]

Little Wolf - Daemon Targaryen

Words: 1,200 Summary: Daemon may have married to help ease the burden on his brother’s shoulders and he’d come to like his wife, the little wolf of the North. He hadn’t realized however how much she was suffering at court.

Note(s): I’ll be honest I was a little nervous accepting this request, but I’ve been reading a lot of GOT fics lately, and got the courage to write this. It might not be the best as I’m trying to get used to writing a more oldy kind of English, but I hope you enjoy it! (Also, yes, Daemon most definitely managed to get her that as a gift, no spoilers!)

She kept her shoulders low, smile small but not tight, feet solid on the ground, hands gently clasped in front of her. She would not give these southern ladies, if they could be really called that, her distaste or tears.

“You should really try one.” The Tyrell girl insists, pushing the plate that holds a tart closer. “I know such things aren’t available in the North.” She looks to the other woman at the table, thinking that she doesn’t see the giggle that she barely suppresses. “I’m sorry, my lady. Sweet things just aren’t for me. Must be my northern upbringing.” She smiles, forcing the words out. It wouldn't be good for her true words to come out. She wouldn’t not bring shame to her family, wolf or dragon. The girl sniffs, but doesn’t insist, instead turning her head to speak to the Hightower queen and she wanted to sigh at how poor of a match and queen she was.

She’d never say it out loud, but her good brother was not a smart ruler or man. It made her ache for her father, for her brother Cregan. For the family crypt that held her mother, that she could no longer go to for just the feeling of advice. Ache grew more and more as she was forced to be around southerners and their odd ideas and gods. She had scoffed when being told that she’d have to marry in front of the seven, in a sept.

Her only savior in this place, in king's landing, was her husband, though many would never think of him as such a thing. But Daemon Targaryen held the same views that the North did, that she did. He too scoffed at the seven, at the sept, and had agreed to her brother’s demands that they also be married in godswood, as tradition for Starks since long before.

She ached to be around the man that she could still be herself with and not this stiff thing she had to be around others. But, she knew she could not. They had never been close in the while they had been married, but for the past two moons, she had barely seen him, truly seen him. She may see him at dinners, but she had seen him maybe thrice in their shared chambers, only knew that he was sleeping due to the messed up furs on his side of the bed.

She nearly startles at the feeling of hands on her shoulders, but they were familiar even through the light fabric of her dress. “Wife, I’m afraid I have to steal you away.” She nods, giving a goodbye to the other ladies, who wrinkle their noses at her before she stands. Surprise nearly takes over features when her husband grabs her hand to place on his arm as he leads her away.

“You’re miserable.” He says as soon as they are out of sight and hearing and she stops walking. “Excuse me?” “I’ve been watching you, little wolf.” He moves to stand in front of her, eyes peering into hers and not for the first time she’s reminded that Daemon is a dangerous man, a man to be fearful of. “Been watching as you sit with the ladies of the court and listen to them talk, but never speak. Why is that little wolf?” He steps closer and her breath quickens. “You aren’t a shy thing, no one could ever think that of you. But you don’t speak. You smile, nod, and laugh.” She raises her head, ignoring the twitch in her jaw, aware that despite no one being around, they are still in public. “I’m afraid, Prince Daemon, I don’t know what you mean.” His eyes tighten as she uses his title. “I enjoy sitting with the ladies and talking. We just had the most interesting conversation about Casterly Rock and its new lady. She’s apparently having the roses ripped out and replaced. They don’t agree with her, you see.” “You don’t care about those cunts, any of them.” He begins to speak again, but she cuts him off, stepping closer and lifting her skirts just a bit as her voice comes out in a hiss. “I have a duty, Prince. One to my house and yours. I will not and can not forget myself. I don’t have the pleasure of forgetting such things.” She gives him a pointed look before turning on her heel.

“I’m feeling unwell, I think I’ll rest for a bit.” She tells him, before moving towards their chambers.

He watches after his wife, his little wolf, with a clenched jaw and fists, her words of duty reeking of cunttower. And then a feral smile forms on his lips, she was right in a way that she didn’t have the pleasure of forgetting that she had a duty, but she seemed to be forgetting that she was a Targaryen now, not a Stark, and that her duty was different then what it was previously. A smirk curls onto his lips, he’d just have to remind her of that.

—

He bides his time, spending another week watching as she puts on a facade at court, before he makes his first move.

He breaks fast with her and not just in their chambers. And then he begins his next step, he starts to walk with her, arm in arm. Not uncommon for a married pair, but uncommon for him. He never walked arm in arm with a lady unless you could count when his niece was younger and she would demand for him to carry her around. People take notice and whispers start but they’re easily curbed as a new bastard is born from the house of hightower. No one knows or can tell if it’s from the hand or his eldest son, but the people talk as the queen is near tears at the shame to her family when not praying in the sept.

And as he increases his affections for his wife in the court's eye, as well as in private, he waits. He waits and waits and then one morning as they break fast, he gets the message he’s been waiting for and he quickly excuses himself.

He offers a nod to the Snow boy that his good brother had sent, pleased to not hear him stammer, just a quiet your grace being said. “You had a safe journey?” “Yes. Traded horses just as often as you suggested and I have it.” He quickly presses forward a bundle of what seems to be fabric forward, but the weight and heat that touches his hands tells him that it is indeed what he asked for. “Good.” He adjusts the wriggling package to rest between his sword arm and side as he reaches for a pouch of coins, tossing it to the bastard. “Try not to spend it all in flea bottom, Snow.” He gives a quick bob of his head, eyes wide. “Thank you, your grace.” Daemon doesn’t bother responding, already turning around and heading back to his chambers where his wife is, a smirk on his face as he imagines her reaction to the wriggling gift he has for her.

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #stark!reader #i can't believe it's 2023 and I'm writing and reading got fics #what timeline is this? #also I hope you enjoy this nyctophilic0vitnir

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You - (Penelope/Colin) Part 1

Rating: R

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn't giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Part 1

Penelope stared out at the pond, her last conversation with Colin still running through her mind. I miss you. Few months ago his words would have sparked incredible joy in her but hearing his smug confession last night had elicited nothing but rage. Even now an explosive anger threatened to burn her from the inside out - but she reminded herself to stay composed. Losing her calm over Colin Bridgerton was simply not worth it, not when she had far more important things to worry about.

“Penelope. How are you?”

Hearing Lady Violet’s voice from behind, she turned around to greet the older woman. Except she wasn’t alone. Of course not. Behind her stood most of her family, Colin and Eloise on one side, Gregory and Hyacinth on the other. Penelope quickly shifted her gaze back to Lady Violet. “I’m quite well. How are you?”

“You haven’t paid us a visit in a long time.”

Penelope sensed the scorn vibrating off of Eloise in waves, but she ignored her former friend. Even though her soul ached at the loss of their friendship, a part of her had already grown resigned to their new reality. “I’m afraid country life has kept me busy all these months.”

“Well, you’re back now. I hope to see you at the house more often.”

There was no mention of the falling out with Eloise, nor did Penelope expect there to be. Especially with Eloise pretending she no longer existed. Her eyes roamed over to her friend, only to be ignored. Inevitably her gaze slid over to Colin, and she suddenly found herself the recipient of his intent focus. Somber blue eyes penetrating her through to her very core, making her rattled and anxious and breaking down the very calm façade she worked so hard to build.  

Throughout their entire friendship he’d always been sweet and funny, filling her dull world with hope and color, but the night of her mother’s ball she’d seen the kind of cruelty he was capable of. It was a side of him that she never wished to see again. And feeling his piercing gaze right into her soul, in a way he’d never looked at her before, reminded her of how much of a stranger he really was. “Forgive me, Lady Violet, but I must take my leave. Mama shall be waiting for me.”

She quickly walked past the group, breathing a sigh of relief at no longer being under Colin’s scrutiny. Her relief, however, lasted only a few seconds. Because almost immediately Colin was striding alongside her.

“Pen, we need to speak.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then I’ll do the talking.”

“And I’m not interested in listening.”

“Too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She cursed his long legs, because while she struggled to keep up the fast pace he seemed to glide along the path without much effort. Short of running away from him, which would surely cause a scandal amongst the crowd promenading, she had no choice but to keep walking.

“I’m sorry. Truly.” His voice was soft, velvety like butter, like he’d practiced the words many, many times in preparation for the performance of a lifetime. “My words that night-”

“Do you know that I read your letters over the summer? Despite my anger, I still read them.”

An unexpected rawness laced his voice. “Why?”

“Because I needed to know. Would I recognize that insincerity in your words now that I knew the truth about your disdain towards me. And do you know what I discovered?”

She finally turned to look at him, and just for a moment the world stopped. Like it always did. His eyes were bluer than the sea itself, a symphony of agony and need, beckoning her towards him. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, her heart caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

“Tell me.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a plea. It was a demand. As if he was entitled to her thoughts, her heart. Her very soul.  Well, damn him. Damn him for playing her for a fool. And damn herself for ever loving him. “You are an extraordinarily talented writer, Mr. Bridgerton. So good in fact that I woulld never have guessed your true thoughts if I didn’t hear you utter them myself.”

“That’s not fair. It was one night, Pen! One night! When I was drunk out of my mind and said something foolish. Are you really willing to give up on me after years of friendship because of something so small?”

“Yes.” Her response was quick and resolute, surprising even herself.

Stunned, Colin stared back at her. “Yes?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

The change in him was sudden and abrupt, taking her by surprise when he moved swiftly to block her path.

The blues of his eyes were so dark they bordered on brown, a storm brewing in them. Staring back at her was a man she didn’t recognize, different from the boy she grew up with,and the man who humiliated her without a thought. This was a stranger in front of her, anger etched on his face, jaw clenched with tension.

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

She didn’t think he could hurt her more, but he managed to do it nonetheless. “I never expected you to court me, Colin. You don’t love me. I’m quite aware of that. But you could have told them there was nothing between us. You could’ve even said I meant nothing to you. Instead you mocked me, derided me so you could look good in front of your peers, and that makes you someone I never want to associate with.”

 “I made a mistake, Pen.”

“Miss Featherington,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “That is who I am to you from now on. Nothing more.”

“So that’s it? I make a mistake and you erase me from your life just like that?” He snapped his finger angrily. “Are you so fucking perfect that you’ve never wronged anyone?

They’d been standing still for far too long, their conversation growing more potent every second. All of a sudden she was acutely aware of glances in her direction, people’s eyes sliding over her and Colin, and she realized how dangerous this was. Risking her carefully crafted plans for a few heated moments with him was idiotic. “People are staring at us, Colin.”

“I don’t care.”

“Obviously.” She offered a small smile at the couple who walked past her, trying to appear amiable. “You may not be concerned about my reputation but I am. And I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way.”

“I’m not willing to give up on our friendship like you.”

His snarky words drew her gaze back to him. “Walk away, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me be.”

“And if I don’t?”

The hint of menace sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You would not be the gentleman you claim to be.”

“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps everything you’ve accused me of is true.” He took a step closer, eyes shining brightly. “Maybe I am cunning and cruel. What then?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “What is it that you want from me?”

“Forgiveness.”

“Fine. You’re forgiven.”

“You’re lying.”

“And you’re being rude.”

Eyes locked, they regarded each other intently. She didn’t understand what he was doing, why he was behaving this way. Why his stare seemed to be all consuming, studying her, trailing down to her mouth when she licked her bottom lip before drifting back up again. He’d never behaved this way before, A complete stranger in every way. “If you ever valued me as a friend, you would do as I ask.”

“I could say the same. If you valued me, you wouldn’t cast me aside.”

“You can not force me to continue this.”

“Would that be such a hardship? To move past one mistake and leave it behind us?” Desperation brimmed from him, he swallowed audibly. “I may not wish to court you but you are important to me. You’re my dearest friend. I can not envision a life without you.”

She exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. “You must.”

His lips twisted into a cruel plea. “Why?”

“Because I am to be married, Colin!” Instantly she regretted her words, hating herself for letting him provoke her. Yes, it was the truth, a plan that had taken months to carefully develop and plot – and now she’d ruined it by announcing it too early, and to him of all people!

“What?” He faltered back, stunned by her words. “You’re engaged? To whom? Why-”

“All you need to know is that my future husband and I have already discussed the matter and he wishes for me to have nothing to do with you. So goodbye, Mr. Bridgerton, because this the last time you and I will speak alone.” She stormed away, before he could stop her.

To be continued...

A/N - Um, thoughts? Feedback is always appreciated. I'm liking the idea of Colin and Penelope going head to head over the destruction of their friendship :)

#polin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #my fics

[mxtantrights]

swept away, I’m stolen

a/n: and we’re back! Kind of. I don’t plan on writing more for this at the moment. Seeing as this was supposed to be just a one shot (I lied to myself here we are) I just wanted to have some fun now within this little universe I made. Writing a down bad Azriel is just *chef’s kiss* and I couldn’t leave you hanging like that.

Azriel x magic!fem!reader

The sun feels weird. It has since you came back home. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. It’s like every time you go to lay out in the sun it feels wrong. Wrong. That’s the word. You suck you teeth and sit up on your elbows.

In front of you, down the hill, the children from summer were playing in the water. The way they play with water is different from the kids in day. These kids have more intricate water fights.

After completing both your missions Helion told you to go on vacation. Well, told is putting it prettily. He ordered you to go on vacation. He packed most of your things. He locked you out of your room and he knows how much you hate sleeping in the guest rooms.

It’s not like you were running away from anything. Lucien hadn’t scheduled a visit yet. It was taking a toll on Helion, he wouldn’t talk about it but he didn’t need to. You’ve known him long enough to know the dips his brow and the worry lines around his lips were because of his son’s absence.

And then there was the Azriel thing.

You don’t want to go back to the night court. But you do want to see him again. The way you two left things after he talked with you in your room that morning felt unfinished. 

Which is precisely why you’re here, in the summer court. Soaking up the sun, trying to forget about all of your problems at the moment so that you might find a solution. 

You couldn’t stand being home when you felt this way. You’re thankful Helion made you come here. You close your eyes again and try to call on the heat of the sun.

All of a sudden, instead of the mild warmth of the sun on your face you felt cold. You open your eyes and you find the culprit. A short red haired culprit. 

“Is that a fox I see?” You joke with a smile. 

Eris smiles back at you, “It is. Don’t you know foxes like to bathe in the sun?” 

“You never could do it with me.” You answer.

You watch as he takes a seat next to you. Eris always has this way of fitting in anywhere. An Autumn male through and through but that’s because he has his duty to the throne. He sits back on his elbows too, and turns to you.

“Slander. I’ll have you know lying against me is a crime.” He jokes.

You nod your head with a laugh, “I bet you’ll leave in five minutes.”

Then it hits you. Why is he here? Eris surely couldn’t afford to trot around on vacation. His father, ever the best parent, would not allow it. Seeing anyone happy but him makes all the blood vessels in his body combust.

“Eris, how are you here right now?” You ask.

He turns away from you.

“I winnowed.”

“You are so annoying you know that is not what I meant.” You say, turning back to face the kids once again.

“I like getting under your skin, sunshine.” 

“Don’t call me that either, flame-thrower.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a while. It’s nice. Peaceful. To anyone else it might perplex them. The sight of Eris sitting next to someone and not scowling or frowning. But to you it’s not that odd of an occurrence. 

“I have to throw my father off my scent.” Eris finally answers.

“Oh? Anything interesting?” You ask.

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that.” 

You look at him again. He was here because his next stop is the day court. And you doubt Eris would just go to the day court without a reason. 

Lucien.

He may not have scheduled a meeting but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to see his father. You smile to yourself. You’re glad that he was able to do it after all. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” You ask him.

Eris nods his head, “Lucien had a little slip up when we were kids. A display of powers that wouldn’t have come form Beron or our mother.” 

“You protected him.” You put simply.

“I just helped him.” Eris shrugs. 

Always the humble servant. You turn back again. The kids are starting to leave now. The water beginning to rest as they do. You were planning on going in after they left.

You sit up properly and start taking off your light shawl. 

“As much as I am flattered…” Eris trails off.

“We shared one kiss as blushing adolescents.” You laugh.

You stand up now and turn your back toward the sun. He takes your figure in. He wouldn’t be Eris if he didn’t. You throw your shawl at him, he catches it easily and puts it to the side.

“It was a kiss nonetheless.” He adds.

You spin around and begin taking off down the hill. The wind whipping past you and against your skin. You legs take you all the way to the water. The cold hits your feet first. Then you wade in deeper. 

When you turn around to find Eris, he’s gone. Like the apparition he claims to be to everyone. Keeping up with the rumors, you guess. You can’t help this gnawing feeling inside of you though.

That even though you turned around, and Eris was the one you were talking to moments before, you wanted it to be someone else…

-

TWO DAYS LATER 

The bell on the door rings out through the shop. You huff out a breath and get yourself ready. You were helping one of the shop owners, Deji, white he was out to lunch. It was the least you could do in exchange for taking surfing lessons.

Deji wanted to give the lessons to you for free. But after you explained to him that your job title pays you quite handsomely he let you pay him some money. You felt it wasn’t enough so you let him put you to work.

A vacation where you had to work is weird but you don’t consider it work. You consider it a new experience. 

“I’ll be right with you!” You yell out.

With the crate of wax used for the boards in your hands you walked from the back of the store to the front. You set it down on the empty counter top and turn to greet the guest.

Safe to say you were not expecting Azriel. 

You’re glad you set the box down, you might have dropped it because of the surprise standing a few feet away from you. He was here. Right there. How was he here? 

“Hi.” He says first.

You smirk, “Only one word for me?”

He chuckles at that. It feels nice to hear the sound again. You didn’t think you’d hear it this soon.

“It’s nice to see you again.” He corrects himself.

You nod your head. You bring your hand behind your back, at least this way you can wring your fingers in peace. Why were you so nervous all of a sudden?

“It’s really nice to see you too. Are you on a mission?” You speak.

“In a sense. It’s hard to explain.”

Ah. So he is here on a mission. Maybe he came here to ask you for the blade again. You actually don’t have it on you right now. You had to hand it over to Helion as per the deal of this vacation. 

“Well I don’t have the blade so if—“ you start

“I’m not here for the blade.” He cuts you off.

“Good.” You answer.

Azriel is about to say something else when the bell rings out again. Both of you turn your attention to the person who just walked in. It’s Deji. Which means if he’s back you can leave for the day.

Deji looks at the shadow singer and greets him. He offers him a handshake which Azriel takes. You come form around the selling table and over to Azriel.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Deji says to you.

Deji moves in front of you, and you position yourself in front of Azriel.

You can tell by the way he said it that he’s picking up on something. Maybe he thinks Azriel is your friend. Or maybe he’s thinking something else. Either way your insides are churning. 

“Yes yes, see you tomorrow Deji.” You say, hands still behind your back.

Deji smiles and walk over to the selling table. In the time that he does that, Azriel grabs your hand from behind your back. It stills you. No Still it not the right word to use. It calms you. Yeah, that’s it. Without another word Azriel is leading you out of the store, hand in hand. You look at your hands joined together. Fingers intertwined. You follow behind him wordlessly. He walks from the shop and down the little paths to the beach. You can barely see anything with his wings and shadows in the way.

And yet his hand never leaves yours.

The two of you walk like that without another word said until you reach a new place. One of the many beaches that you haven’t visited quite yet. There aren’t many people lingering around either. A few groups of people spread out on the sand and people in the water.

Azriel walks on the sand but you stop him. He turns around.

“I don’t want sand in my shoes.” You say as you reach down and undo them.

Azriel chuckles softly to himself and does the same. He holds his shoes in one hand, your hand in the other. You hold your shoes in your free hand. Azriel leads you onto the beach.

A bit away from the people there, he stops at a spot. Just a few feet from the water. You move to his side and look out into the distance. There’ nothing for miles. This must be the beach that faces the long ocean, away from the other courts.

You feel his thumb brush back and forth against the back of your hand. Like it did the day you left the night court. You can feel the heavy weight of that day come back to you ever so slowly.

You look over at him.

“I’m sorry for the way I left.” You speak.

His throat bobs. He doesn’t turn to look at you. Maybe he doesn’t want to speak about it. You don’t know what he wants. You don’t know what you want either.

“It’s okay, I understand why you left the way you did.” He replies.

“Doesn’t make it right. It’s not like you were to blame for everything.” You add.

“But I could have said something.” He says.

He finally, finally, turns to look at you now. He doesn’t look as sad as that day. Or maybe he’s gotten used to wearing his sadness. You still can’t understand what brought him to tears that day. There was no way you being mad at him made the shadow singer fall apart like that.

“I have to ask you something, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” You say.

“I’ll do my best for you.” He replies.

You squeeze his hand, “When I left, and you were overcome with emotions. What was that really about?” 

He sighs and looks back at the view in front of him. You stuck a nerve. You decide to keep looking at him. You don’t know if this conversation will go horribly wrong and if this will be the last time you speak to him. You don’t know what the future holds.

“It was about you. It still is. You are the first person in a very long time that has made me feel less of a monster and more like a living creature with feelings.” He explains to you.

“You think of yourself as a monster?” you ask.

He scoffs, “I know about the rumors.”

“And?”

“And?” He asks you back.

“If I let the rumors about me weigh me down I wouldn’t get out of bed every morning.” You answer his question.

You take this moment to stand in front of him. Your hands still intertwined. His eyes move to you from the distance of the perfectly blue ocean. “Sometimes I can’t help but let it weigh me down. And you leaving, just reminded me of who I am to everyone. Who I have chosen to be for most of my life.” He says.

“Who are you when you’re with me?” You ask.

Azriel can’t fight off the smile that forms on his face. You like that you are able to make him smile. You like that this sadness that coats him like a blood stain seems to wash away with the words you say.

“I don’t know, but I want to figure it out.” He answers you.

“I want that too.” You smile.

Azriel pulls you in to him. The two of you slot together turning on a light. So much science goes into the light but it looks so easily done. With your body pressing against his you can’t help but feel like something really did click between you two.

-

A WEEK LATER  You think you might have upset him. Not totally, but at certain intervals. He’s fine whenever you spend time together outside of the vacation house. You decided to let Azriel share a space with you instead of living two places that were across the city.

There were three rooms, so it’s not like the two of you would have to share a bed. He got one room. You got another. It was nice. You could run into him in the living room, or in the backyard, or in the kitchen. And he would smile at you and join in whatever you were doing, or invite you to join him.

But something strange is happening to Azriel. 

Every single time you offer to stay in and have food, he declines. Either he’s busy and needs to go somewhere. Or he’s already placed an order for food someplace else. Or he doesn’t feel in the mood for home cooking and just wants to go out. Which are all fine reasons, you didn’t think too much of it.

Until now.

Right now Azriel is making food for the evening. After you told him that you would be working with Deji to complete orders at his shop. Well, you came back earlier than both of you expected. Deji thought there was more work to do but underestimated how quickly four hands and two brains word. 

You’re watching from outside the house. You feel like a creep but you were proven right about your suspicions. Through the kitchen window you can see him mixing something in a bowl. 

This has to end, you think to yourself. You don’t want this to fester and become something ugly. You talk yourself up and walk over to the door. You unlock it with your keys and head inside.

As you cross the threshold you hear moving from the kitchen. Frantic moving. You really don’t hope that he’s trying to get rid the food he’s clearly making because you came home earlier than he expected.

You rush into the kitchen. Azriel’s shadows are everywhere, trying to hide the mess he’s created. Their master is looking right at you, something being hidden behind his back. No doubt the bowl he was just mixing.

“Azriel?” You shout.

“You’re back early.” He says.

You look around the kitchen. The spices are out. There are multiple pans in the sink. Flour is coating the kitchen counter. 

“Do I get to eat any of what you’re making?” You ask.

“No!” He shouts.

You step back a bit at his volume. You watch as he takes in your reaction. It takes him less than a few seconds to put the bowl down and walk over to you. He holds on to your arms, you can feel the sticky substance of something on your skin now.

“I’m sorry. I’m just that I'm not that good of a cook. I wouldn’t want you to get sick or something.” He explains.

You nod your head, even though you’re not following a word he’s saying to you, “I can take over if you’d like.”

“You can’t—I mean, I already started and you just came back from work you should relax.” He continues.

You squint your eyes at him. He doesn’t want you to eat what he’s making, he won’t even allow you to make something for him—oh.

He has a mate.

Cooking for someone else, someone who is not his mate, might be murky waters. Every bond is different. But maybe that’s just how his is.

You don’t want to think about how defeated you feel by your own conclusion. You don’t want to, but you do. Your eyes soften a bit.

“I’m so sorry if I offended you. I won’t ask about it again.” You say.

Azriel cocks his head to the side, “What just happened here?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You put simply.

Then you’re stepping back. Azriel lets his hands fall away from you. You turn around and head down the hallway to your room. You open your door and put yourself on the other side of it with bated breath. 

Were you just reading it all wrong? Maybe he just wanted to be your friend. He didn’t want anything romantic to do with you. How could he when he has a mate? 

You take off your shoes and crawl into bed. Suddenly vacation is starting to feel doomed.

-

TWO DAYS LATER 

Things have been awkward to say the least. You got work early in the morning and busy yourself. And if you get done early you make sure you have other places to be. The beach, the shops, anywhere that is not the vacation house. Anywhere where Azriel isn’t sure to be.

A part of you feel terrible for doing it, but another part of you is embarrassed. You practically made him move into the same house as you, you pulled him around the summer court to all types of places.  You let your eyes drift from his face to his body whenever he was shirtless!And all the while he probably wanted to do all of that stuff with the person he loves.

“Mother, you are hard to track down.” His voice calls from behind you.

You turn around quickly, not expecting it or him. You’re standing in the water, new day means new beach. 

He’s standing right behind you. Shirtless. Of course it’s a beach, and he’s in the water. You keep your eyes from drifting any further. You can’t look him in the eye for too long.

When you don’t move to say anything, Azriel takes a step closer. You take one back. This catches his attention fairly quickly. 

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“No.” You answer.

He rolls his eyes, “Are we really back to this? Again?” 

He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but to look at his arms. Arms you shouldn’t be looking at. Arms that don’t belong to you. Arms that want to hold another person—a person who is not you.

“How long is your mission?” You ask him this time.

He shrugs his shoulders causally. 

“There is no duration on my mission.” He answers. 

“Don’t you want to go home? Don’t you miss it?” you try again.

Because maybe, just maybe, he can let you go. Right here, right now. He can end this illusion. You felt like the feelings you have towards him were reciprocated. But now, you know that even if they are they can’t be. He has someone waiting for him at home. You couldn’t stand in the way of that, willingly or unwillingly.

“Why are you asking me that? I told you how I feel back there,” He says.

“Yes you did, but do you really think your mate sees you as a monster?” You retort.

He looks at you confused. His hands fall to his sides. There it is. Now it’s out in the open. You don’t want to leave on bad terms, you don’t want to leave at all. But this is just some illusion. And you can’t break your heart trying to keep it alive. 

“What are you talking about?” He questions.

You wrap your arms around yourself. 

“I’m talking about why you wouldn’t let me cook for you. And why you wouldn’t let me have the food you cooked the other night.” You clarify for him.

He’s silent. And it shatters you more than anything. You can feel it deep inside of you. Your stomach feels like it’s tightening and unravelling all at once.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to do this.” He speaks.

“How to cheat on your mate?” You ask, your voice getting louder.

You were getting angry. He’s acting like he’s not doing something wrong here, with you. Like he doesn’t have someone back home who loves him. Who is probably worried about him. 

“No. That’s not what’s happening here. I promise you.” He says.

“Then why are you here?!” You shout.

“Because of you!” He shouts back.

“You said you weren’t here for the blade—” You say.

“I’m not mated to the blade, I’m mated to you!” 

You watch as he can’t seem to catch his breath. Mated to you? You and Azriel? You didn’t feel anything. You still don’t feel anything. You slowly wade in the water over to him. What is six steps actually feels like a lifetime.

His eyes meet yours. He looks just as nervous as when you left the night court. You realize it now for what it was. He was emotional because his mate was leaving him. You don’t know when he felt the bond snap, but you know it was before that morning.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you, but I could feel you through the bond. Your sadness and I couldn’t take it, it actually hurts to feel you so sad. And I—“ he rambles.

You don’t cut him off with words. In this frightening but equally exciting situation words wouldn’t do it justice. So you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him.

He lets out a choked breath. Once and then twice. Then you feel his hand hesitantly on the small of your back. You think about the time where you hugged him and he hugged you back without a second thought. 

It must have been torture.

“When?” You ask him so quietly, he might not have even heard you.

“Seconds before you saved my life.” He answers you. 

His arms wrap around you now, fully. It brings you impossibly closer to him. You feel his voice from his chest, vibrating against you. 

“Is that why you kept asking me about it. You thought I felt it too?” You ask.

He can only hum his answer. His head in the crook of your neck.

“And that’s why you didn’t want me to cook.” You say.

“I know it’s not exactly the same thing but I didn’t want you to think I tricked you.” He explains.

You pull back from him a little bit. As you do you see the hesitation written all over his face. You reach up with your hand and caress the side of his face.

“It’s okay.” You whisper.

You duck your head back into his chest. And you can hear him let out a breath. The water feels warm and so does he. This might have been the feeling you were searching for after coming home from the mission.

And it’s all because of Azriel.

-

ONE YEAR LATER

“It has to be dark so we can hide!” A voice says.

You press your ear against the wooden door. Inside the room were no doubt your students. 

Things have changed since you took that vacation to the summer court. You decided on a lot of things. 

The first being, that you would not longer guard the day blade anymore. That was a actually the first change you made once you got back to the day court. You asked Thesan if there was another way to guard the blade but still retain your role.

Of course he figured something out. Which was easy really. Hiding it in plain sight. The sun blade was made of one of the hottest tendrils of the sun, why not return it to it’s creation place?

“If you don’t be quiet she’ll find us!” Another voice yells.

You hold in your snicker.

And then came the kids. They are part of an exchange program between day and summer. Something about court relations being at an all time high and other things. All you knew is one day you woke up and were greeted with three children resting at the edge of your bed like it were normal. It was interesting to get used to. 

The three kids had been the ones you saw around the summer court. You’re closest to them out of everyone else. Those three followed you everywhere and told you practically everything.

“Can the both of you find another spot? You’re so loud!” a younger voice says.

You open the door and the room is thrown into darkness. Black shadows fill the room an in instant. 

There was also that. Well, not a ‘that’, but a him. Azriel. 

While he is still the ever scary shadow singer and mercenary of the night court, he does have time for normal things. Like taking a break from his duties at times. This is one of those times.

He showed up in the day court a few days ago. Something about unused vacation days and the house being too crowded and missing you. You liked the last detail a lot.

You look around the room, playing along, “I could have sworn this room wasn’t that dark. Where are the lights?” 

You move over to the window facing wall and reach for the light switch. When you flick it up and down and nothing changes you fake a dramatic sigh.

“I guess I’ll have to find another way to light this very dark room.” You say.

You raise your hand and call on the light from outside. You know already that Azriel has caught on because the darkness that is encasing the room is fading away. Slowly you see a bunch of your students all hidden in plain sight. They knew the darkness would hide them, that Azriel would hide them. Once they see you and you see them completely, all of them jump out of their hiding places.

Azriel is standing near the farthest wall from you. When your eyes lock with his you feel it. The snap of the bond. 

You thought it would be like fireworks or a storm. But it’s the opposite. It’s like all the noises around you quiet down to a hum. You can’t suppress the smile that forms and burns your cheeks.

Azriel is looking at you now with wide eyes. A smile quickly forms on his face too. 

“You found us!” One girl shouts.

It breaks you out of the trance.

She runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You hug her back while still keeping an eye on the other students. They were all coming up to you slowly.

You smile, “That I did. I think that means we can have an early lunch.”

They all cheer. The little girl lets go of you and nods her head eagerly. Of course. The only other ting these children liked half as much as playing around was eating.

“Can you all walk nicely to the dinning room and sit in your seats?” You ask them.

They all agree and walk in two lines out of the room. You turn and watch the go out the door. 

You don’t feel him sneak up on you until he wrap his arms around your waist. His head in the crook of your neck. He places a feather soft kiss there, which makes you lean back into him.

“Azriel, did you feel it too?” You ask him.

“I did,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean we have to rush into anything. We can take our time.”

You turn around in his hold to face him. He looks at you with that cheesy grin on his face. Slowly you reach your hands into his hair. He hums as your fingers scratch his scalp.

It’s a sight you’ve seen multiple times now. And it’s not like the two of you are abstaining from anything. Thesan has almost caught you more than once making out or in a very compromising position.

Azriel is a giver, that’s for sure. 

But this feeling its—

Ravishing. That’s what Nesta and Feyre called it. You had started talking to them again. Mainly looking for advice because they were the only two mated fae you knew of.

Well, you guess that’s not totally true. Elaine is mated. But she and Lucien are, whatever they are. And you still didn’t really get along with her. It’s not like the two of you are feuding, but you’re just not checking for her. 

Amren called this feeling a bunch of other words—ones that made you half nervous and half lustful. And you think she did that on purpose, just to get under your skin. Or get you to get under Azriel’s skin more like it. 

And that’s what you want right now.

You lean in, his lips just mere inches away from yours. He leans in more to cut the distance but you pull back just a bit. 

“Lock the door.” you whisper.

You hear the door lock on it’s own. No doubt one of his shadows. You don’t care really what locked the door. Only that it’s locked and now you have him all to yourself without a chance of interruption. 

Cutting the distance is easy then. Azriel’s hand snakes to the back of your head and is bringing you closer than close. You found it fairly quickly that if the two of you are alone there are no pecks. It’s open season for Azriel.

His tongue explores your mouth. 

His other free hand explores your body. A brush against your thigh as a particular sound coming from you. Azriel pulls away just for a few seconds.

“I like that sound.” He says with a wide smile.

He looks good like this. Hair all tasseled. You hadn’t even realized you did that. His lips look bitten and have a slight pink tint to them. You bring your hand over to his face, your thumb brushing against his lips.

You laugh to yourself, "I know you do. Wanna go to the house?"

Azriel nods along to your every word. It makes you laugh a bit more.

The house.

On his second trip to the day court, Azriel purchased a house. He had initially said it was so that he didn't suffocate you while he was here. Which you told him straight up that could never happen. But he insisted.

You're so glad he did.

All of a sudden the scenery around you changes. You're no longer in one of the many rooms in the day court palace. You're in the house you now share with Azriel. You haven't called it home yet but you know it's only a matter of time.

Azriel lifts you up by the backs of your thighs. He hauls you up in his arms. Your arms, stay around his neck. You're staring right at him, like he might disappear any second now.

He's maneuvering his way through the door and shutting it close with his foot. You can't help how happy you feel for guarding the blade. If you hadn't you wouldn't have Azriel.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic

[sunny44]

Unveiling the Truth

(Ruin it part.2)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

After that night Max and I never talked about it again. He went on pretending that nothing had happened and so did I but the fact that I was part of his betrayal is what haunts me every day.

Ok I don't like Kelly but I did something I wouldn't want to be done to me so I feel bad.

We were at the last race of the year and it was a weekend she was here which didn't help my guilt at all.

"Are you okay?" Pierre asks slipping his arm around my shoulders giving me a hug.

"Not much."

"Do you want to talk?"

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?" He agrees and I pull him into a corner. "Max and I had sex."

"WHAT?" He screams and I cover his mouth with my hand. "What?"

"That's exactly what you heard."

"How?"

"Do you really want me to explain how?"

"Ew that's not what I meant. I mean how did it happen?"

"It was after the third title celebration party, I took him back to the hotel and we fucked in my room."

"My God I've been trying to get you into bed for years and you never wanted to."

"Is that really what you're thinking about right now?"

"Of course, that lucky bastard."

"Pierre I'm serious, stop thinking about me naked on top of you and concentrate."

"Now that you've said that I won't be able to concentrate."

"Forget it." I walk away annoyed and he comes right behind me but Max sees us and I know he's imagining that we did the same thing he and I did at the hotel.

...

I was walking past Redbull at night with the paddock already empty when one of the engineers asked me to go into the garage and when I did he directed me to Max's drivers room where he was inside.

"What is it?"

"May I ask what you were doing with Pierre in the corner?"

"And why does that interest you?"

"Just answer the damn question." He says irritated.

"We were talking."

"The same way you and I talked that night?"

"Where's your girlfriend anyway?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter since I know she's here this weekend."

"Forget Kelly okay? Can we talk about us?"

"There is no us, that was a mistake and you shouldn't be so calm about the fact that you cheated on your girlfriend and that I helped you do it."

"I'm only calm because I don't feel the same way about her as I do about you." At this I fell silent. "She doesn't make me feel angry and want to grab you and kiss you at the same time, she doesn't make me feel good after a bad race even if I only see you in those 5 minutes of interview and she doesn't understand me like you understand do."

"Max..."

"Just say you don't feel the same way about me and I’ll pretend the best night of my life never happened and leave you alone.”

"I don't know." He takes his hands away from my face. "I never thought of you as anything other than the guy I keep picking on."

"And I'll never be anything else to you?"

"Not until you sort out your situation with her." He sighs. "I won't allow myself to feel anything for you or try to have anything with you while you're committed."

"And after that?"

"After that we're going to have to talk, because like it or not you cheated on her and as much as I was the bitch who helped you do it and that I deserve it to happen to me too, I don't want to be the next on your list."

"You're never going to be just anyone on my list, you're not even on the list, you're completely superior to anyone I've ever been involved with in my life."

"Don't say that if you don’t really mean it."

"I was serious about everything I just said."

"Okay then go find me when you sort yourself out."

...

It had been a month since our conversation and Max hadn't said anything else so I understood that he had moved on with Kelly.

Charles and Pierre had invited me to go on a trip together and as I had nothing better to do I decided to go along.

I packed all my things and my cell phone started ringing and I saw that Pierre was calling so I didn't even answer it, I just locked my apartment and went down the elevator with my things, to my surprise when I got downstairs Max was with them and smiled when he saw me.

"I didn't know you were going."

"Yeah, last minute plans."

"We're going by jet." Pierre says kissing my forehead and hugging me from the side.

"What about our tickets?"

"They don't exist, I lied because I knew that if you knew max would be along you would have given up on going."

"Good that you know me." I say putting my bag in the trunk of the car and getting in the back seat.

The walk to the runway was complete silence on my part, I was annoyed that he had ignored me all this time and now he showed up here on a trip he knew I would be on.

The boys were excited and got on the plane before me and Max who grabbed my arm as soon as the two had left my sight.

"Can you let me go?"

"Can you stop being rude to me?"

"And why should I? It wasn't enough that you ignored me and went on this trip together to annoy me and now what? Kelly is going to show up there too."

"No because we broke up."

"What?"

"I broke up with her like I told you I would and I only ignored you because I was helping her moving her stuff out of my apartment. I had to hire a moving truck to take P's stuff to her place too.”

"You could have texted you saying that."

"I know and I'm sorry, it wasn't a quiet break up and I just needed time.”

"It's okay." He let go of my arm. "Let's go before they notice we're late."

Taglist: @44-ilton @babyvinnie @hockey-racing-fubol @xjval @xcinnamongirl @dudenhaaa27 @evans-dejong @chelseagirl98

Ps: this will have a part 3

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #f1 instagram au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen au #max verstappen series #max verstappen x you #max verstappen edit #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x charles leclerc #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanart #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen headers #max verstappen headcanons #max verstappen blurb #mv1 #mv33 #red bull f1 #red bull max

[annymation]

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 1- Asha)

Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.

But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.

But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.

But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.

If you’re interested, then come along!

Asha✨

Personality

- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself

- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them

- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook

- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?

- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends

- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)

- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda

Main Traits:

Calm and mature

Determined

Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)

Helpful and generous

Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)

Playful

Compassionate

Backstory

Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go

Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby

(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)

Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher

Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books

In other words, her mom was an animator

Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”

Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.

This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas

In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…

At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”

So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.

But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.

Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age

Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.

Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling

The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.

But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.

With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.

Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.

This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.

Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.

But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.

Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”

Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.

Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.

However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.

Design

- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art

- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)

- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.

Final Thoughts

My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.

The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.

Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.

Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.

She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.

She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.

I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:

I want to be free from these palace walls!

I want to explore the ocean!

I want to open a restaurant!

I want to find true love!

And then there’s Asha here like

“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”

And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.

Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.

But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #reimagined #rewrite #disney #wish 2023 #wish asha #wish star #king magnifico #wish movie #wish disney #wish rambles #wish rewrite #Asha #long post #wishrewrite

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 9. iridescence — ✦ (wc: 0.6k)

“Is this going to take any longer?” you ask.

It’s an interesting feeling, having Scaramouche in your lap while he does your makeup. The side of his palm gently rests against your cheek as he does your eyeliner, his brow furrowed in concentration while you rest against the cushions of your sofa. His indigo hair and indigo eyes are barely illuminated by the dimmed lights of your living room, an insistence of his even at your protest of the horrid lighting for makeup.

“It’ll only take a moment longer,” he responds.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” an over-exaggeration on your part, but you couldn’t see how a makeover could take so damn long.

Scaramoche grins, his voice dripping in mock innocence, “Perfection takes time. Or however that saying goes. I’m not used to putting makeup on another person so just cooperate with me, will you?”

You do your best to glare at Scaramouche as he finishes up your eyeliner. The two of you have been at this for a while now, bantering while he does your makeup. When he finishes, whenever that may be, the two of you will swap places so you can give him a makeover in return. Admittedly an interesting arrangement to re-enact for a scene in his book, but you have to admit it’s been alright so far. He isn’t terrible, he just takes too long for your liking.

“Part your lips a bit. I’m putting lipstick on you,” you oblige, and Scaramouche continues while he dabs color on your lips. “Our ruse has been quite effective so far. But people seem to think we’ve been in love for longer than we’ve been dating.”

Amusement colors your voice, “I mean, I like to think it makes our whole act more effective.”

He finally leans back to inspect his work after what seems like forever and declares that he’s done — time for you to switch places. He gets off you to take a seat by your side. You take the opportunity to reposition yourself and straddle him.

Only to get a proper look at him while you give him a makeover, of course.

A few minutes of silence pass when Scaramouche speaks up, “The whole point of me asking you to do this was for us to talk. So talk.”

“Like what, the groceries?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just talk.”

“Well,” you pause, twisting the makeup sponge in your hand before getting back to work. “I think we’re running out of eggs? And we only have a little bit of flour left.”

“Did you add it to the list on the fridge?”

“I already did, smartass. You were the one who told me to talk.” you laugh slightly when you see him glaring at you, and you move your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “Stop looking all grumpy like that. You’re gonna make me mess up.”

“I am not ‘looking all grumpy’.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” you chide, dabbing his cheek with your makeup sponge. “Ooooh is my grumpy face mad at me?”

“Shut up and just get this over with, will you?” Scaramouche averts his gaze. “Absolute terror.”

You move on to doing his eyeliner before you continue talking, “I could help you cook dinner tonight if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” he answers curtly. “You’re still banned from the kitchen.”

“The thing that happened with the air fryer wasn’t even that bad.” you protest.

“Do I need to remind you what happened? You quite literally –”

“Okay fine, maybe I should leave the cooking to you today. But one day you’ll lift my ban from my own fucking kitchen.”

“Not happening until you learn how to actually cook.”

“Gonna need a good teacher for that, so why don’t you teach me?” you jest

He gives you an incredulous look before responding, “Sure. Whatever. Are you done with my eyeliner yet?”

“Stop moving and I’ll get done quicker.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

they're definitely not in love guys trust me

taglist — currently OPEN:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @ako-ang-mahal-ko @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @aeongiies @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq

#genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #scaramouche smau #wanderer smau #scara smau #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin modern au #genshin celebrity au #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #darling starling smau

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing It Out (‘Seeing Her’ Part Two)

summary — george weasley might (maybe) have a small crush. too bad she’s totally oblivious.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i don’t own harry potter property, i don’t own this gif, and i don’t edit because i’m lazy. also, argyle & dicken’s isn’t real, i made it up.

warnings — everyone is stupid. maybe ooc.

read part one here!

She noticed him staring at her in potions. Well, she never proved it was her he was looking at, but she had a suspicion. Every time she would look up to transcribe the notes or recipes Snape described, she could see a mass of tangerine hair fly forward just a few desks ahead of her. She didn’t think anything of it at first. Why would she? But then she noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye before class one day. That look alone made her realize two things:

1. The looks she thought she may have been receiving were no coincidence and

2. The one staring was George Weasley

“I’m scared. Seriously, he’s planning something,” she confided as she and her friend, Meredith, began to stroll from dinner to their dorm, “He’s been watching me for a few weeks now. Something is going on.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Meredith giggled.

“I’m serious! When the Weasley twins set their sights on you, you’re dead in the water,” she guffawed.

“Or…” Meredith trailed off with a smile.

“Or?” She turned to her with an inquisitive look.

“Perhaps you tickled his fancy.” Meredith shimmied her shoulders suggestively.

“I tickled who and what?” Her eyes widened as she felt a laugh bubble at the back of her throat.

“I’m saying that maybe he keeps staring because he fancies you,” Meredith explained.

“George Weasley?” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened slightly, “You’re mad.”

“Not mad, intuitive,” Meredith tapped her head, “You’re cute! You’re smart! Everyone in this bloody school ought to be head over heals for you!” She shook her almost comedically.

“Alright!” She laughed, “I get it! I’m fabulous!”

“Good,” Meredith said with a large smile, “Now, think about talking to him.”

“We haven’t disposed of the ‘the twins are going to put fireworks in my pillowcase’ theory,” she shook her head.

“I’ve disposed of it. It’s gone.” Meredith pretended to throw something before wiping her hands together, “But seriously, talk to him if you’re interested, y’know? He’s not too bad on the eyes – and I doubt he’s all too evil.”

“I guess I’ll think about it,” she shrugged, “How’s Emma going?”

“It’s – shit, I left it in the Great Hall,” Meredith groaned, “Wait here for me, alright?”

“I’ll wait an eternity for you!” She called after the girl.

“Put those moves on someone else, would you?” Meredith winked before disappearing down the hall.

George Weasley. He was popular, maybe not as much as his twin brother, but he was one-half of the dynamic pranking duo. She’d seen them before; they watched people, and so did she. They always observed their prey before attacking — but their targets were never just innocent bystanders. She’d like to think she was innocent. She’d like to think a lot of things, though, and not all of them were true.

Meredith was taking a while. Was she right? Was he interested in her? The thought seemed silly, foreign. It was like a honey bee finding a hidden daisy in a room full of tulips. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was a nice thought. A flash of orange alerted her to the balcony in front of her. Funnily enough, standing at the edge, staring out to the floor below them, were the Weasley twins – and George was staring at her.

It was curious. This was the first time they’d ever connected eyes, yet it felt entirely natural. Maybe it was because she’d stared a thousand people in the eyes, or maybe this was different. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and for a moment, time was able to exist on a different plane entirely. God, was it cheesy. She’d read about this before; the lovers’ first meeting. Wait, lovers? They aren’t lovers, they don’t even know each other, besides – oh God. In a flash, something fell from George’s hand, flying down from the balcony and directly onto poor Professor Flitwick’s head. The thing burst ceremoniously and a powder fizzled around the man. He batted at himself in confusion as she looked on at him with horror. His hair was entirely green.

What the bloody hell was that?

She clutched her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray — the copy that had just been knocked from her hands — in her sweaty palms. Today had been going great, spectacular even. Her dreams had wiped any memory of possible crushes from her mind. She woke up early, found a matching pair of socks on her first try, and was ready to pick up a new book. Meredith had shoed her out of the dorms when she attempted to wake the girl; she preferred sleep over food. So, it was just her and Dorian who’d made it out to the stairs when she was pushed (nudged?) to the ground.

By George Weasley, of course.

She’d wondered if this was a part of his scheme for a moment. It would be the perfect time to catch her off guard — bright and early before she’d even wiped the crust from her eyes. But then she saw his face and the shock that drew over his features. He certainly didn’t mean to bump into her. At least, it didn’t seem like it.

They conversed in an awkward manner, but managed to hit one another only once more. The real issue was the end of the conversation:

“See you in potions, George!”

It was meant to be friendly, a sort of peace offering if he was still trying to pull off something dodgy. And, of course, it was friendly enough until she realized she had never talked to him before. She sounded like a stalker. A bad stalker at that. She let her mind race as she rushed off to the Great Hall, hoping to not see the boy again before she got there.

It was a dragging, near exhausting wait until potions. Her nerves were so shot that, even if she calmed down, they would still leave a searing imprint under the surface of her skin. By lunch, she’d decided to try to calm herself. Surely he’d forget before then. Surely it would all resolve itself. Surely, she thought to herself as she pushed into the potions’ lab, there was–

He was sitting in her chair.

Meredith was late, unable to save her, and George was sitting at her table.

Her first move was to take cautious steps toward her destination. She knew well enough that this confrontation was unavoidable (or maybe she’d just built it up in her mind too much). She would just grit her teeth and bear it, though, because the only other alternative was to flee Hogwarts entirely.

“Hey!” He’d seen her, and she froze. She was only a step or two away from her seat, of course he saw her.

“Hi,” she responded with less grandeur. He stood in front of her, slicking his hands against his slacks as he smiled.

“Sorry about this morning,” his grin damn near sparkled, “I only do that sort of thing on the field usually.”

“Right,” she nodded. He was standing right in front of her seat, trapping it with his lanky body.

“Yeah,” his confidence stuttered momentarily, “Uh, your book. How is it?”

“Dorian Gray?” She questioned, receiving a nod, “Oh, it’s alright. A couple blokes doing a lot of talking.”

“Any puke?” George cocked his head.

“There’s blood,” she replied.

“Fluid is fluid,” he shrugged. There was another hesitation before he spoke again:

“I noticed you read a lot – muggle books, I mean. It’s interesting,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “I was thinking about picking up a muggle book, but I don’t know where to start.”

So this was it. Weeks of stares and stilted interactions because of her obsession. She let out an audible sigh of relief. Any ounce of fear or tension drained from her body, and in its place, a peace rooted itself. Apparently, all it took to crack her shell was the mention of books.

“Oh, sure!” She spoke, her lips curling into a smile, “If you tell me what you fancy in a story I could find something you’d enjoy.”

“That’d be great,” he grinned, “Maybe I could tell you this weekend at Hogsmeade?”

“Hogsmeade?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” he perked up suddenly, “There’s that muggle book shop near the outside of town — Argyle and Dicken’s? You could help me find something. Maybe we can go for butterbear after?”

There was nothing Jane Austen could have done to prepare her for an offer like this. No romance novel she’d ever read could help her. She couldn’t reply with something witty, or cute, or sultry. She couldn’t wink or do something flirtatious. All she was capable of doing was giving him a near-dumbfounded look whilst attempting to close her partially agape mouth. George Weasley wanted a little more than just a recommendation.

“She’d love to.” A feminine voice spoke from behind her. Meredith, somewhat winded and somewhat late, swooped in beside her to press a metaphorical hand to her jaw.

“Love to,” she repeated, though a little less confident. George seemed to appreciate the answer anyways, giving a quick nod of greeting to Meredith before smiling back at the other girl.

“Outside the castle at noon this Sunday work?”

“It, yeah, yes, it would work.” She nodded vigorously.

“Wicked,” he chuckled lightly, “It’s a da–“

“Get to your seats.” Professor Snape’s deep voice commanded. She, as well as Meredith, wasted no time shuffling past the boy to their chairs. George moved, though, only after he hesitated a moment. The potions lesson began unceremoniously, and she couldn’t help but look over to Meredith as Snape’s monotonous voice consumed the classroom.

“What was that?” She asked, eyes still wide.

"That was you getting yourself a date." Meredith whispered her reply happily.

A date. With George Weasley – the same George Weasley she had thought to be plotting against her, or at least hoping for her downfall. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as the lesson went on.

A date.

With George Weasley.

hey guys, quick little note: i’m going to be starting a tag list so it’s easier to let people know when i post. if you’re interested in joining, comment a 🐝 on this post so i know who to add. alright, love u guys, toodles!

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley drabble #harry potter #fred weasley #hogwarts #fluff #bookworm #reading #classic lit #george wealsey imagine #thursday writes

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Sweet Little Peach:

JJK Threesome Scenario

A/N: I am, without a doubt, loopy from painkillers rn (yay surgery). Written in a haze. Not responsible for how you feel afterward.

Warnings: 18+, soft smut, threesome sex, all women

Feat: Shoko X Fem!Reader X Utahime

Summary: Shoko and Utahime have a new favorite kohai

Word Count: 1446

JJK Masterlist

It’s the Jujutsu High School reunion party, and Shoko and Utahime scan the crowd for people to mingle with. Despite what she says Utahime hates Gojo and Mei, and Shoko is just here for the free booze.

"Do we know her?" Utahime asks suddenly, gesturing subtly towards a woman of about average height, her hair falling in curls around her shoulders. She was in conversation with Nanami who was listening to her with interest, sipping his drink. 

"Another kohai perhaps?" Shoko suggests as she realizes how cute the unknown woman is; fresh-faced and pink-cheeked with dewy skin. She was looking like a freshly grown peach begging to be plucked from a branch.

As they approach the both of you, Nanami sees them and raises his hand in greeting. You turn around curiously. 

"Hello Utahime-San, Shoko-San." Nanami says to them politely. "You may not remember f/n l/n. She was a first-year by the time you guys graduated your final year."

"Oh, yes, that's why we didn't recognize you!" Shoko extends a hand and shakes your hand, smiling. She thinks you're adorable and you're about to let go of her hand when she slides her thumb across the length of your palm. A shiver runs through you and you look at her questioningly but her smile is nothing but friendly.

Utahime also extends her hand to you and while shaking she turns to Nanami and asks "Girlfriend?"

Nanami's face turns red and he looks away shaking his head. "No, just a friend, I haven't seen her in years."

"You're the only person I know here!" you add as Utahime releases your hand. "It was a relief, for a second I thought I'd be spending this whole reunion trying to talk to strangers until I saw you, Nanami-Senpai."

“Well truth be told, I wasn’t looking forward to coming either, but I figured it’s good to make appearances in the Jujutsu world every now and then to let people know you're still alive.”

The 3 women laugh at Nanami’s words. “Well, cheers!” Shoko says, raising her glass and everyone follows suit to toast each other. 

“Well I think we should get to know each other better as women,” Utahime says, giving y/n a tender smile. 

“I agree,” Shoko says in a suggestively sultry voice that has your heart skip a beat. Surely they were just being friendly right? But even as you look at them you couldn’t help but realize how attractive they were, both tall, Utahime with her long hair secured with a cute little bow and Shoko with that mole near her eye.

“You wouldn’t mind us stealing her for a while, would you Nanamin?” Shoko asks him, unable to contain a grin at his surprise but he shakes his head no.

“Not at all. It’s great that people are socializing like this.”

“I’ll find you later Nanami-senpai.” You raise a hand in farewell as the other two women whisk you off into the crowd. Nanami empties his drink as he watches them take you away, looking slightly wistful. 

“I should’ve known better…”

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

You gasp softly as Shoko gently kisses your neck, tongue laving up and down the length as Utahime licks her way down your flushed body, teasingly licking your belly button.

“Look at all that blushing,” she comments to Shoko who has now started paying attention to your pert nipples. “So shy, so cute.” Utahime looks up at your flushed face.

“Senpai, I-” Your words catch in your mouth as Shoko softly swirls the hard bud with her tongue. 

“We thought you looked like a peach when we first laid eyes on you,” Shoko murmurs against your nipple. “It appears that you taste like one too.” She lays her tongue back to the bud and suckles as you whine softly.

“Senpai…I should find Nanami-”

Both women chuckle softly. “And do what, my dear? He’ll never know exactly what to do with something as succulent as yourself.”

“Men are nice,” Utahime concedes as she hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and starts bringing them down your legs. “But women are just better.” She inhales deeply between your legs and you embarrassedly push back, coming into contact with the headboard. 

“Ssh…it’s ok sweet one. I know this is a little overwhelming.” Shoko says the words reassuringly and comes up to your face to pull your lips into a soft kiss. You melt against the tenderness of her mouth as Utahime gently massages your thighs with calming grips and strokes. 

“But trust me we are going to make you feel so much better than anything else you’ve ever felt before. Just be our sweet little peach hmm?” Shoko starts kissing her way down to your collarbone as Utahime starts giving the tiniest licks to your inner thighs, starting at the knees and going up deeper. Your body trembles under their combined ministrations, their voices softly cooing and awwing over your reactions. 

“Shoko, I think she liked what you did, lick her nipple again like that…yes…ohh look at how cute her face gets…”

Both their attention being wholly on you was a turn-on you hadn’t expected. You didn’t think you were into women but now almost 22 years of life decisions were being thrown out the window…

Utahime gives your thigh a soft pat. “Open for me please, sweet peach? Have to sample the nectar now…”

Your face flushes red as you hesitantly part your legs. With a soft wet pop, Shoko releases your nipple and comes up to cuddle your upper body, placing your head on her lap, and stroking her hands down your arms and shoulders. 

“Just a sample now, Utahime, don’t get greedy,” Shoko warns softly before brushing your hair away from your face. “How did we miss such a cute kohai like yourself?”

You’re about to answer but Utahime’s lips find your clit and give it a soft suck that has your hips rolling. A whine ripe with need leaves your lips and all you can see is Shoko’s face hovering above yours catching your every expression.

“That’s it y/n…we’ll take the best care of you…” Her lips descend to yours for another tender kiss as her fingers start to pinch your nipples again. 

Utahime licks a line up from your dripping core to your clit, then uses the flat of her tongue to cover the nub, licking at it like an ice cream cone. Your moans are lost in Shoko’s mouth as she continues flicking your nipples, your body writhing under their deliciously sweet care.

“You’re so cute like this y/n,” she murmurs. Utahime pops up from between your legs, lips moist with your arousal. 

“How is she?” Shoko asks, briefly leaving your side to scoot down towards Utahime. 

“So sweet. Incredibly sweet.” You watch with aroused fascination as Utahime pulls Shoko in for a kiss, your slick passing between them, tongues touching each other.

Shoko pulls away and licks her lips. “Delicious,” she whispers, looking at you hungrily. “My turn next.”

They switch and Utahime comes back up to your head while Shoko busies herself at your clit, her technique different from Utahime’s, a little quicker, with more urgency. You mewl, and Utahime quickly grips your hands so that you have something to hold on to. 

“That’s it, sweet girl…Let it out…”

Shoko delicately inserts her middle finger into your fluttering core, and hooks up into your belly, bringing you close to the edge. Your voice changes pitch as you arch off the bed.

“I-I’m gonna…” You can barely get the words out.

“Ssh…it’s ok pretty peach.” Utahime presses kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “Just let it happen naturally…no rush.”

Shoko’s tongue is sinfully dextrous and as she matches those movements with that delicate touch of her finger, you find yourself gasping from delight as she drives you to an intense orgasm, the kind that fills heat in your belly, makes smaller spasms start at the beginning as they grow longer and more potent, racking your body with gratuitous pleasure. 

The room fills with your sobs as you climax, both of them cooing at you, whispering soft encouragements, stroking your hair as you calm down. 

You feel Shoko settle down on one side and Utahime on other, sandwiching you in between their soft bodies. You never relized how comforting the feeling of pillowy breasts were until you were lazing on them. Shoko and Utahime hold hands above your head and kiss each other once more.

“Well that certainly beats the reunion party,” you mumble against Shoko’s bosom. Both women giggle at your sleepy words and snuggle comfortably together, warmth carrying you all to sleep. 

#shoko ieiri #utahime iori #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jjk shoko #shoko x reader #jujutsu shoko #shoko ieri x reader #shoko smut #shoko ieri smut #shoko ieri fluff #utahime x reader #jjk utahime #jujutsu utahime #iori utahime #utahime smut #utahime fluff #utahime iori x reader #utahime iori smut #jjk smut #soft smut #vee writes

[dandydeya]

Ksbd Posting.

6 Juggernaut Star Scours the Universe, White Chain, trans people, and nihilism (This is gonna be a long one (Spoilers Ahead))

(I’ll be mostly using She/Her when referring to Juggernaut)

I think Juggernaut Star is such an interesting character that never really gets talked about, despite showing up in many of the series’ best moments and I do fear that her story could be left open-ended in lieu of the fate of existence that Allison currently faces.

I mostly want to talk about the full reveal of her true form in King of Swords and how it contextualizes her character and actions leading up to that. 

Also, due to the fact that she is ultimately a side character, never acting as a main antagonist even in her final fight. Most of the things I say about Juggernaut will be in comparison to WC.

When we first meet Juggernaut it’s easy to see her as an antithesis to WC, in all fairness that’s what she ends up being but at this point in the story and for most of it leading up to the tournament in KoS. Juggernaut acts as a very real possibility for what WC could end up becoming. More importantly, this also means that White Chain represents what Juggernaut could have possibly been (Or even may have been at one point).

Focusing on Juggernaut being similar to WC. I want to talk to about their forms. WC is ridiculed for her human and feminine appearance. While Juggernaut appears as a flaming skeleton clad in armor, ultimately they appear much more human than the other angels. It’s almost comedic how intense they are, arriving on a motorcycle made from the still living skeletons of sinners, before removing the front wheel and executing someone with it. One ends up asking why a being of such hatred for humanity and weakness would have their true self represented by something so human.

This particular aspect of Juggernaut’s character hit me pretty hard after seeing her true form. It felt like an experience that I and likely other trans people can relate to when trying to present as a gender that isn’t theirs. Like a jacket that’s a few sizes too large, it’s awkward to live and act in, and people start to notice that it doesn’t fit you. WC attempts to do something similar, literally casting her face/humanity to the side but still ends up in this awkward in-between that isn’t sustainable.

Furthermore we see that Juggernaut’s form seems to waver based on her composure. When she loses the fury, the flames fade away to reveal a softer, feminine, and more human side.

Also notably in KoS, we see her trying to retain her form while being beaten. Even in this state she attempts to retain her appearance putting her in a state resembling her true form but attempting to suppress it with the armor of her skeletal form. This also made me notice that she is the only one of the angels (beside the unnamed thorns members) to still wear armor outside of their physical bodies. This could just represent the power gifted by becoming a Thorn Knight however I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the power of a thorn can only be achieved by covering up one’s true self in armor covered in spikes. 

However, it’s not just her form that acts as a façade, I don’t believe that Juggernaut, disdains humanity, at the very least not as much as she lets on. This should be fairly obvious due to her form but I believe that she may not be aware that this disdain is false. I think her hatred stems from a sort of jealousy. A jealousy at others being able to freely enjoy what she feels is impossible for her to ever accomplish along with an ignorance to the nature of the world. 

Juggernaut will have to suffer if she is to be herself, possibly endlessly as she does not have the same friendships and connects that WC has. This is then compounded by the fact that the universe remains on an infinite loop controlled by people far more powerful than her. 

I know I’m probably reading into this too much but it feels like it can be easily compared to many feelings that can often swirl in us as trans people. The knowledge that who you are can be controlled by someone with little to no say from you along with the jealousy that can stem from seeing cis people and even other trans people exploring gender when you cannot can cause some terrible things to solidify in a person. I have met people like this, and quite embarrassingly have been this person at some points in my life.

How this manifests in Juggernaut Star is an intense nihilism. If the world will not have her than she will do her best to usher its end. The only control she can have is through destroying the people attempting to pursue what she feels she may never have. I think it’s rather fitting that one of her weapons/forms is the wheel of her motorcycle, aka the supposed shape of the universe. She is quite literally taking the wheel/universe into her own hands. However, as Zoss says “He that masters the Wheel cannot break it”. 

During the tournament arc we see WC begin to go down this same path. Growing increasingly frustrated with Allison and shortly taking the opinion that humanity or at the very least Allison is unworthy and cannot be trusted. At the peak of this after defeating Allcio, she takes on a similar intense linework and hatching that we see in Juggernaut.

She of course immediately realizes her mistake and feels remorse.

In comes Juggernaut Star.

In the ensuing fight, WC rejects her stone body (aka the body/gender assigned to her by humanity) as her reality and confronts Juggernaut with them both in their true forms.

I do want to talk about some aspects of Juggernaut’s true form. One, compared to WC she looks much less like a warrior. Despite how “soft” she may look, in every one of White Chain’s iterations it has always been clear she can still kick ass. However, Juggernaut appears in a long flowing dress, her features are thin and she walks with an almost ballet like stance. One could say this design just matches with her dexterous fighting style but as far as we know Juggernaut is the only angel to wear clothing. Two, she sports two clipped wings. While I’ve spoken on the skeletal form being a façade it still has done real damage to her. traveling down this path has removed her freedom to choose her own path keeping her grounded and chained to Metatron’s whims. 

Anyhow, in this confrontation WC attempts to give Juggernaut the same help and connection that helped her change for the better. Juggernaut meets this with her own nihilism stating that no final happiness can be achieved and shows that she has decided to place herself comfortably within the grasp of hopelessness, just waiting to be crushed under those with more power than her.

As she rejects this final chance at personhood, she once more cloaks herself in the anger before being defeated by 10 Vigilant Gaze. Somewhat fittingly we get a few panels of her struggling after being hit by his attack but ultimately giving up and retreating to the void.

That last bit I talked about is because I wanted to express that even if we can feel sympathy for Juggernaut Star it is still her choice to take the path she has gone down and in accordance with this comic’s ideals we see that it is the coward’s path that brings one under the full weight of the wheel to be crushed.

I’m not sure how to end this so I’ll wrap it up with the idea that made me write this whole thing

6 Juggernaut Star Scours the Universe is canonically a doomer trans girl  and becoming a Thorn Knight is essentially taking the blackpill.

#KSBD #ksbd spoilers #k6bd #K6BD spoilers #6 juggernaut star scours the universe #juggernaut star is trans #this took way too long #white chain #kill six billion demons