#and it becomes clear this was not said ‘in jest’

[gauloiseblue]

You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.

He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.

Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.

Until he gives you permission.

The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.

At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.

His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.

He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.

"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.

"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."

"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.

You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.

"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."

And so, you complied.

You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.

"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."

He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.

Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.

"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."

"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."

"Did you take care of it?"

"No."

"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."

He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.

"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."

He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.

"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."

You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.

They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.

It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.

"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.

"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"

You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.

"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.

He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.

Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.

When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.

The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.

#i wrote 2 konig fics in one day there's something wrong with me #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #konig mw2 #is this cannibal core? #idk girl #yandere konig #there's something about fingers in a mouth........... #i'm normal i swear #I've fixed the 3rd person pov. just noticed it now. oopsie my bad

[calypsocolada]

how the jjk boys react to being jealous...ft. itadori, megumi, gojo, nanami, & takuma

authors note: MERRY CHRISTMAS

cw: slightly suggestive, angst, healthy jealousy

wc: 3.6k

Itadori doesn’t really get jealous much but when he does he’s pouty. He’s late for a date one night and when he opens the door to your favorite restaurant he spots you in the corner. You’re smiling and laughing at something the waiter had said. Itadori felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. He was just about the only one who could make you laugh like that and he didn’t like some random guy trying to take his place. Your eyes meet Itadori and they light up. The waiter looks back, a bit flustered when he spots the sour faced Itadori. 

“I’ll get those drinks in for ya.” He says and walks away rather fast. Itadori leans over the table and kisses your cheek as he slides into the booth across from you. 

“Sorry I was late,” he starts as you smile. 

“Everything okay?” You ask, your infinite kindness speaking. He nods his head. 

“Christmas traffic.” He shrugs as you nod your head in understanding. 

He obviously didn’t want to say but he was out getting you a present. He didn’t fancy himself good with gift giving but he had an idea late last night and was hunting around for the item all morning. He finally found it then realized he was gonna be late. 

“I’m glad I got all that crap done early.” You said as he reached for your hand, pulling your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss. The waiter comes back and sets the drinks down on the table and Itadori can’t hide the look on his face when the waiter smiles down at you. He pouts a bit when you smile back. He knows you’re being polite and he also knows he’s being pouty. He can’t help it. You’re a lot of things Itadori likes. You’re kind and caring, funny and smart. He likes the way you think and your attention to detail. He’s lost a lot of people he loves and lately the way he thinks about them has changed. He’s become over protective but he can’t help it. He can’t lose anyone else. 

“Yuji?” Your voice breaks through to him, he was lost in thought. He blinks, clearing his throat. He tells the waiter his order and watches as the man shoots another one last flirty look at you before leaving. You hadn’t even given the waiter the attention he wanted. Instead you were reaching across the table for Itadori’s hands. “You sure you’re okay?” You ask and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I think the waiter has a crush.” He says and you start to laugh. 

“Yeah I noticed that. I’m glad you got here when you did.” You say and he calms. He knows you’re not the type who would cheat, that's not really where his jealousy was stemming from. It was just the fact that he liked being the one to make you happy and didn’t trust strangers. He gives you a soft smile and you cock your head slightly. “Wait…” you trail off and when he looks at you you have a smirk on your lips. “Are you jealous, Yuji?” You ask and Itadori shakes his head. 

“I- Of course not! I just- I noticed he was a little smiley that’s all.” He stutters out as you raise a brow, slowly nodding your head. 

“Uh huh.” You jest, hiding a giggle behind your hand. 

“Okay fine. Yes a little,” he relents as you nod along with his words. 

“That’s cute.” You say and he gets up, sliding into your booth. It was all very smooth. 

“No I’m not,” he says, pink cheeked as he presses a kiss to your lips.

Megumi is very protective, and gets jealous pretty easily. He doesn’t open up to many people and so when you cracked him wide open with your kindness and patience he didn’t know what to do. He also didn’t know what to do when you became good friends with Todo. That freaked him right out. You two were polar opposites but he’d see you across campus with that giant idiot drinking tea or laughing together. That made him sick to his stomach with jealousy. Nobara and Itadori are sick of hearing about it. They’ve told him time and time again to just ask you out but he couldn’t. He couldn’t just ask you out, it had to be special. He had to know you felt the same, he didn’t want to embarrass you or make things awkward. 

So instead he got stuck in a cycle. Of hanging out with you and blushing and crushing and being crushed when he’d see you giggling with Todo the next day. 

After about three weeks of this cycle Megumi couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t think of you being with someone else. He wanted you so bad it was messing him up inside and out. He saw you across the courtyard one day and suddenly his feet were taking him to you. Todo was first to look up. He gave him a sharp look. Todo didn’t like him very well for stupid reasons Megumi didn’t care to think about anymore. You turned once you saw Todo’s face. Your face lit up, a smile overtaking your lips. 

“Fushiguro,” You crooned, “Want to join us?” You asked. Megumi cleared his throat. 

“Can we talk?” He asked and your brows raised slightly as you nodded your head. You excused yourself and jogged to catch up with Megumi who had wandered off a few feet away. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you caught up with him. He had his head down, his hands stuffed inside his pocket, he looked almost nervous. 

“Uh yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbled quickly. He couldn’t look at you, he was so damn nervous. “I just- I was wondering,” he cleared his throat again. “Are you and Todo- uh, together?” For a moment you stared at him, processing his words. 

“Together?” You echoed and he finally met your eyes. He was blushing, cheeks rosy red. And that’s when it all clicked together for you. The red cheeks, the hopeful look. You sucked in a breath. “Oh, Fushiguro.” You said and then couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape your lips. He looked tortured. “Are you jealous?” You asked and his eyes widened. 

“What- of course not! I was just- I was asking.” He said all in one breath. You smiled up at him, his hair was a mess from him nervously running his hands through it. You reach up and run your fingers through it to smooth it out. He froze under your touch, like a deer in headlights. 

“Todo and I are friends. In fact he’s like a brother.” You said but your words did nothing to ease his thumping heart. He was still nervous and the fact there was no romantic connection between you and Todo meant something that made his hands shake slightly. 

“Oh, okay- that’s yeah- that’s good.” He stuttered. You smiled at his words. 

“That’s good, huh?” You asked with a sly smile. He swallowed as he nodded his head. “Why’s that, Fushiguro?” Seeing him like this was a treat. Megumi was always very put together. Very stoic and calm. But right now you were making a mess of him in this courtyard. 

“I just- well,” He scratched at the back of his head. “Todo’s not right for you. That’s why. I was just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me, huh,” You smirked, you reached for his hands, he was trembling slightly. “That’s awful kind of you.” You say as your warm fingers meet his cold ones. “And what would be right for me?”

“Hmm?” He barely mumbled out, eyes locked to your hands on his. 

“You said Todo’s not right for me, so what would be right?” You ask, thumb tracing circles in his palm. You were being very distracting on purpose. You liked Megumi and Todo had recently been coaching you on how to possibly get Megumi to confess. Most of his pointers were very direct so you took a few and decided to be sly. 

“You need someone smart,” he starts out, it makes you laugh. 

“Todo’s very smart.” You say and Megumi makes a face that makes you giggle. “Alright, so someone smart.”

“Uh huh, and patient,” he adds. You nod. “Someone who’s not a meathead.”

“You sound a bit judgmental, Fushiguro.” You jest, your teasing must’ve calmed the situation down because Megumi looked less nervous. His fingers interlock with yours, shocking you slightly. 

“I am judgmental, I want the best for you.” He says and your heart skips a much needed beat. It was your turn to be nervous this time. “Todo’s not the best.“

“Then who is?” You ask and he looks at you with those pretty eyes. 

“I am.” He says and something shifts in the air when he steps closer. 

“Fushiguro,” you start, as his hand slides against your cheek, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear. 

“Don’t you agree?” He asks huskily.

Gojo is the worst. He’s more jealous than any man you’ve ever known. A waiter will bring your food and smile, Gojo a moment later will say, “Your boyfriend is so nice.” Always stuff like that. 

So one day you decide to play into it. Gojo has always been a little jealous of you and Nanami’s friendship. You two met in school, you couldn’t stand Gojo back then, you hung out with Nanami and Haibara. 

You got early to a Jujutsu High meeting and instead of saving a seat for Gojo you sat beside Nanami. Gojo got there late and when you turned his eyes met yours and you just gave him a sly wink. After the meeting you hugged Nanami goodbye and walked over to your boyfriend. You could tell he was annoyed, you gave him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“That meeting ran long.”

“It sure did,” He pouted, following you out to the parking lot. “It would've gone faster if you had saved me a seat.”

“How would that make it go faster, Satoru?” He grabs you by the wrist, pulling you out of the hall and into a dark back room. 

“We could’ve slipped away,” he whispers against your neck before pressing a kiss there. “Instead you chose to sit next to stuffy.” He trails kisses up your neck to your lips and presses his body against yours, pinning you to the door. 

“That’s not nice.” You say slightly out of breath. 

“That’s why I said it,” he mumbles against your lips.

Nanami sat straightening himself at his desk. He took in a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. The deadline was creeping closer and closer and god dammit he couldn’t get ahead of this thing. He’d been working on this damn project for hours now. He reached up and loosened his tie, nearly taking it off. There's a soft knock on the door and you peek your head in.

“Sir, can I interrupt?” You asked and he looked up, he could feel his stress depleting just at the sight of you. 

“Yes, of course.” He waves you in. You shoulder softly inside, a tray in your hands. You give him a soft smile as you set it down on his desk. 

“I brought you your favorite sandwich, Sir, and some hot tea.” You say and Nanami can’t help but give you the smallest of smiles.

“You are an angel.” he says, pushing his keyboard out of the way. You go to slip out of his office. “Wait.” He asks, you stop turning back to him. He cuts his sandwich in half. “Have you eaten?” He asks as you glance at the sandwich then back to him, shaking your head. “Sit with me,” He offers. You walk across the room and sit opposite of him. He slides half a sandwich over to you and you smile at him.

“Thank you sir.” You say.

“Please, you can call me Nanami.” He says he's told you this a few times but he is your boss after all. You nodded your head, soft apologizing as you bit into your sandwich.

“Nanami,” There was another knock at the door. Nanami’s boss walked inside as you straightened. “How’s the project going?” He asked, his eagle eyes skimming along the curves of your body before looking at Nanami. Nanami saw the whole thing, saw the clammy uncomfortable look on your face. Nanami didn’t know this but the higher up boss was quite the ass, he constantly hit on you, never remembered your name and also never looked you in the eyes, he was always too busy checking you out. 

“It’s going.” Nanami answered shortly. The boss walked a few steps in, cocking his head to the side. 

“Take a break there, sweetheart?” He asked you as you went red, instantly embarrassed.

“Y/n, her name is Y/n. And I asked her to since she’s working overtime with me.” Nanami says coolly. The boss raises his brows, looking between the pair. 

“Well don’t work her too hard there, Nanami.” He says, winking to you before exiting the room. You turn back but your appetite has gone slightly. 

“Does he talk like that to you often?” He asks as you look down at your hands. 

“It’s okay,” You say. 

“It’s really not.” He says softly. You look up and meet his kind eyes. Usually when you went to HR about things like that you were ignored. You need the money and you liked working here, especially working for Nanami. He had a trusting deposition about him. You swallowed dryly.

“Yes, he talks like that to me all the time. It’s-- it’s not a big deal, I can put up with it.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply, taking a sip of his tea. 

“You’ll take care of it?” You ask as he gives you a nod. 

“You don’t have to put up with anything, you're not some pretty thing for him to ogle.” He says and meets your eyes. You wonder if Nanami thought you were pretty before your mind realized how silly you were being. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you very much, Sir-- Nanami.” You said. 

Nanami did take care of things. In fact you never saw that ignorant boss ever again. You also accidentally ran into him outside of work a few days after the big boss was fired. You waved at him, from across the bar. You didn’t know if it was inappropriate to share a drink outside of work but Nanami waved you over.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” You said. “I just wanted to thank you for taking my side.”

“You're not interrupting.” He says, his voice warm like cinnamon whiskey in your stomach, something fluttering at the way he looks down at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“You couldn’t have.” You say. “All that matters is he’s gone.” You say and he nods his head, raising a glass to that. You and Nanami spend the entire night talking and when it’s time for the last call he buys you one last drink and you two leave. He walks you back to your house and drapes his jacket over your shoulders, you two talk the entire way there. You get to your door and unlock it, holding it open. “Want to come in, warm up a bit? I could make some coffee?” You ask. Nanami leans on the door, he looks behind you like he is contemplating the pros and cons of coming into your house past midnight. You think for a second he’ll turn you down but then he pushes off the doorframe and nods his head. He brushes past you as you shut the door behind him. You fix him coffee and stay up talking with him until the sun starts to rise. You laugh when he gasps at his watch. 

“Fuck,” He groans. “I have to work in forty-five minutes.” He pushes up from the table. 

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.” You apologize, springing up from the table. “I can give you a ride.”

“You stay home, take the day off.” He says, reaching for his jacket. 

“I can’t do that to you.” You say, reaching for your own coat but he catches you by the wrist, the contact shooting through your body. 

“I want you to.” He says softly, your eyes locking. You can’t help it, you spent the night trying not to stare at his lips, trying to be very professional but dammit you weren’t perfect. Your eyes dipped to his lips as you cleared your throat. 

“Maybe you should take the day off too.” You say and Nanami looks down at you with those searching eyes. You're standing right by the front door, the hallway never felt smaller between the two of you. 

“And do what?” He asked, his voice husky. Your throat went dry. 

“Well, you're already here so maybe have some breakfast.” You say, taking a half step closer to him.

“Thought you said you couldn’t cook?” He asked teasingly, taking a step closer to you.

“Eggs and bacon are fairly easy.” You whisper and reach across the small space to straighten his tie. His eyes follow your hands. 

“It's hard to mess them up.” He whispers back, hands slowly sliding onto your waist, fingers dipping into your hips. You try very hard to hide your smirk.

“I could use some help,” You say, letting your fingers slide off his tie and around the back of his neck.

“Thank god I’m here then.” He says and dips his head down, you tilt your head and your lips meet.

You rushed forwards, shouldering through hospital doors. You race around the corner and scan the door numbers, searching for thirteen. You spot it at the end of the hall and pick up speed, tears pricking at the sides of your eyes as your hand meets the cold steel of the door handle. You wrench it open, you see Nanami first, he stands, hands in his pockets. You brush right past him and see Takuma. He’s sat up in the bed, awake, despite what the doctors told you on the phone. He has bandages across his torso and two cuts on his face. Fresh tears spring to your eyes as you rush to the bed and he opens his arms for you to fall into. 

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against the top of your head. He knows he scared you, that's why he’s apologizing. You knew nothing about the Jujutsu world, only bits that Takuma had told you, which is few and far between and also just really out of reach to understand. The only thing you did know was that Takuma came from most of his missions badly roughed up. You hated his job, it scared you shitless everytime he was gone and your phone would ring. You knew a lot of those sorcerers didn’t make it home after missions.

You sniffed, as Takuma wiped the tears from your face gently. This happens every time. 

“I’m alright, I’m right here.” He spoke softly to you. A sort of mantra that calms you down. You pushed up slightly and pressed a kiss to his lips, your finger tracing a new scar down the side of his face. You turned to Nanami. 

“Can we have a moment?” You asked and the blond man nodded his head, leaving the room. 

“Honey,”

“Ino, I told you. I told you how much I hated this job of yours.” You start. “Do you know how fucking scared I was driving over here?” You were crying again, Takuma pulled you back into his chest. 

“I know,” He sounded so guilty, so apologetic. “I told Nanami to let me call you, so you wouldn’t worry.” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

“I hate this. That no good mentor of yours is gonna get you killed.” You grumbled.

“I thought you liked Nanami?” He asked as you pushed up slightly to be able to look at him. “Thought maybe you liked him even more than me.” You scoffed at that but when he didn’t laugh you realized he was a bit jealous. 

“Ino, I am your girlfriend, we live together, I’m currently crying on top of you. I love you, not your stuffy mentor.”

“He’s not stuffy.” He says as you press a kiss to his lips. 

“He’s not you either.” You say and Takuma can’t help but smile at that. “Is that why you’ve been working so much? Because you think I like Nanami more?”

“Maybe…” Takuma mumbles. Your hand slides against his jaw, running through his hair, fingers playing with the ends. 

“That’s really cute, Ino.” You say as he throws an arm around your waist, tossing the blanket over you two. You kick off your shoes as he presses another kiss to the top of your head.

“Sorry, we're spending Christmas night in the hospital.” He says as he grabs the remote, clicking through channels.

“We spent your birthday and thanksgiving here too, it’s like our little tradition.” You say, knowing how macabre that sounded. He shuffled down a bit and pecked a kiss to your lips.

“I’ll get better, baby, I promise.” He promises as you turn to face him in the bed. 

“I know you will. I have no doubt about that.” You say with a sure smile.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk gojo #itadori yuji #itadori yuuji #jujutsu itadori #itadori x reader #itadori x you #itadori yuji x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x you #itadori #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo #nanami kento #ino takuma #ino takuma x reader #takuma ino x reader

[djarindroid]

Marry Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl proposes to you under the stars (Established relationship. Setting- Alexandria)

Word Count: 712

Comments: I just wanna write endless fluffy fics for Daryl 💕

The evening breeze carried a feeling of peacefulness as you and Daryl sat outside. This had become routine for the two of you, after a long run or a day's hunt, you’d enjoy a quiet breath of fresh air together. The light from the porch lantern cast a soft glow over the both of you as Daryl meticulously cleaned his crossbow, each movement practised and methodical. 

You, perched up on the porch railing, stared at the clear night sky. You’d always found solace in the stars, sparkling way above you, not affected by any of the horrors down here on earth. You almost envied them, so removed from everything, but if you hadn’t faced the uncertainty of this world you wouldn’t be here, with the man you love. 

The amount of times Daryl had cleaned his crossbow allowed him to keep his eyes on you as he worked. His gaze was filled with nothing short of adoration as he watched the starlight dance across your skin. To be truthful, if he could spend eternity watching you gaze at the stars he’d be a very happy man. Deciding this was the perfect moment to break the comforting silence, he uttered two of the most important words he’d ever said. ‘Marry me.’ 

Instantly bringing your attention away from the sky you looked to Daryl, finding him watching you with a soft smile. His request settled around you, making the night air warmer as you felt a grin gradually spreading across your face. You hopped down from the railing and crossed the short distance of the porch to stand in front of Daryl. His eyes never leaving your face, he looked at you as if you were his whole world. You were sure the look on your own face was a mirror of his. 

You’d face everything you'd been through all over again if it meant you’d end up here, in this moment. You knew you’d do anything for the man in front of you, and couldn’t fathom a life without him.

You gently cupped his face with your hand, ‘You sure you wanna marry me D?’ You couldn’t help but ask, though you were sure of the certainty behind his words. 

‘Yeah,’ he responded without a second thought. The corners of his mouth lifted even higher as he added, ‘never been more sure of somethin’.’ He cupped one of your hands in his and tilted his head to place a delicate kiss on your palm. 

You always knew you’d spend the rest of your life with Daryl but hearing him so sure and eager to do so caused happiness to overwhelm every fibre of your being. It was so overwhelming that you couldn’t stop the tears that slowly rolled down your face. 

Daryl, ever the man of few words, spoke through his actions. Putting his crossbow to the side he stood up, his eyes stayed glued to yours. He brought his calloused hands up to tenderly cradle your cheeks, using his thumbs to delicately wipe your tears away.

‘Marrying me that bad huh? Didn’t think ya’d cry,’ he jested quietly as he rested his forehead against your own. You laughed quietly with him.

Saying yes to Daryl was as easy as breathing, ‘I’m just so happy and being Mrs Dixon is everything I could ever want,’ you confessed whilst lovingly wrapping your arms around his neck. Fireflies had circled around the two of you, as if the stars themselves had fallen to witness this moment of love that had survived the apocalypse.  

‘Good, because I dunno what I would’ve done with this if you’d of said no.’ He pulled out a simple silver ring from his pocket. It was perfect, not too flashy, just a perfect reminder of the connection between the two of you.

Time seemed to stretch around you as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, the weight of its significance settled into your heart. Life was no longer about surviving, it was about building a future together. As you gazed into Daryl’s eyes, gratitude washed over you, thinking about how lucky you were. You knew the stars you loved to stare at didn’t contain all the answers, but in Daryl’s eyes you saw a galaxy shining just for you. 

#just another short lil fluffy piece for Daryl #🥰 #like this is just how I pictured him proposing to someone #simple and loving #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon #TWD #the walking dead

[jiminiecrickets]

jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, in an alleyway, exhibitionism + getting caught, jealousy, rough sex, biting, crying

thursdays at a nightclub – most would expect a half-alive sort of creature, mostly empty and a little dull. but the nights never sleep and neither do its people, and the building is warm with electric bodies and the sweet, heady scent of spilt alcohol.

jungkook squeezes out of the crowd on the dance floor, releasing a lungful of thick air as he meanders towards the bar. he'd lost you a few minutes ago, and nothing was as fun as grinding on his boyfriend in a dark room full of strangers. he takes a seat and orders a drink.

not a second later, a presence slides up behind him. "what's a looker like you doin' all alone?"

his welcoming smile vanishes. that's not you. he glances over his shoulder at the young man, who looks so generically attractive that jungkook feels as if he's an instagram filter become reality.

he turns away, disinterested. he scans the crowds. "i'm not alone. here with my boyfriend."

"really? where?"

there's a grating smugness to his words. he's probably never had anyone say no to him before. "we got separated. this place is pretty big."

the guy hums, leaning against the bar next to jungkook. "that's true. he probably won't find you for ten minutes, maybe more. not thinking of spending all that time sittin' alone at the bar with just a whiskey to warm you, are you?"

"i am, actually."

"well, maybe i could interest you in something else," he suggests, "to pass the time."

jungkook lifts the glass to his lips, throwing it back. he hisses at the pleasant burn. "yeah, no. i'd rather watch paint dry."

"oh, i'm not that bad," he jests. his fingers slide over jungkook's bicep, gorgeously accentuated by the neckline of his black racerback tank. it's fitted and cropped – he did it himself – and shows off his tight stomach and defined apollo's belt. "you wouldn't even have to look at me, y'know. those hands of yours would make a nice necklace, don't you think?"

he glances down at his many silver rings and bracelets. "oh. oh. uh, i don't think you're reading me right. um, i don't swing that way."

the man's brows furrow. "what? you said you had a boyfriend."

"i do." jungkook clears his throat, carefully sliding off of the barstool. the other man's eyes follow him up; jungkook has a few inches over him. "i, uh..."

"there you are, baby. thought i'd never see your face again."

jungkook positively lights up at the sound of your voice, smooth and pleasant. it's the kind of voice that cuts through boardroom chatter like a hot knife through butter, carrying with it a natural, easy assertiveness that ceos wish they had.

"hyung," he coos, giggling as you drape an arm over his shoulder and tangle that hand in his long, messy curls, tugging slightly to press your lips to his cheek. he lets you move him around like a doll, grinning up at you adoringly. "hi."

"hi," you reply, amused. your eyes flicker over to the other man, whose face is slowly turning red. your eyes narrow slightly. "sorry, i don't think we've met. i'll be stealing him for a minute."

you're usually so polite – but this time, you didn't even add an 'if you don't mind' to that second sentence. jungkook nibbles on his lower lip. are you angry? are you angry at him?

"hyung?" he asks when you lead him outside into the alley, the cool breeze soothing his hot skin. "what's up?"

you turn on him. his eyes widen. "he was flirting with you, wasn't he?"

"what?" he fumbles. "w-well, i mean, yeah, but you know i wasn't gonna do anything if that's what you're worried about—"

"i don't care about that." something in the back of jungkook's mind swoons at the knowledge that you're so secure in his affections for you that it doesn't bother you in the slightest. you lean in, pressing a hand against the rough brick wall and pinning him in. his heart begins to race. "i care that he thought you were available. all this skin you're showing and not a single mark defining you as mine?" a slight growl marks that last word. jungkook gasps softly. "we'll have to fix that."

"now?" jungkook stammers, glancing around. the alley's dark, and the streets on either side are mostly quiet. a few haggard-looking youths stumble by every so often. "but what if someone sees? my dignity, hyung, you're gonna rip it to shreds."

"i'm 'gonna'?" you lift a brow, eyes glittering. "you sound as if you want this."

he swallows. "i – i do, i always do, but i don't want anyone getting an eyeful of my ass..." he hooks his fingers through your belt loops. "that's just for you, hyung-ah."

you hum, leaning in. you press your lips against his and he moans softly, tugging your hips flush against his. "that's right, baby. you're just for me. all this..." you squeeze his ass roughly over his black cargo pants and he whimpers out a moan, arching his spine into your touch. "all mine. why?"

"'cause you fuck me the best," he gasps, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your hot kisses travel down his jaw and collar. his cock stirs. "you fuck me so well, baby. i could never want anyone else when i have you. i belong to you – hey!"

you yank his teasingly tight pants down over his thighs, pinning him in place easily with your own body. he's already half-hard – has been for the last hour in the club – and you hum appreciatively, gently turning him over. he obliges, arching his spine as he gazes watchfully over his shoulder, pink lips parted and palms pressed against the wall.

your hand runs over the tight silver-ringed harness that cradles his chest and shoulders and emphasises his tiny little waist. you nearly growl at the sight, nails digging into his skin.

he presses his ass into the front of your pants, round eyes sparkling with anticipation. "you're being so rough," he breathes as you nip at his neck just below his ear, tugging the fitted neck of his top down to reveal more of him. "did that really touch something tender? ah!"

he jerks as your teeth clip his soft skin, indenting the shape of your teeth as a red bruise. his heartbeat thuds faster as your palms glide over the mounds of his chest, perfectly sculpted by his tight shirt and harness, and dance over his cock to stroke his sensitive inner thighs. they tense under your touch.

he's wearing a pair of tiny black jocks with a rainbow elastic that cups his ass. you stifle a laugh, trying not to break character.

"what?" he mumbles, blushing. "shut the fuck up. they're cute."

"oh, i agree." you give them a light smack and he moans sharply at the impact. "wonder what that guy would think if he saw you in these – if he saw how pretty you are, spreading your legs for me..." one hand strokes his taut stomach, passing below his hips to cup the cute bubble in his jocks. he whines softly as you squeeze. "be a good boy and keep quiet for me, yeah?"

he nods feebly, gnawing on his lower lip. you've barely done anything and yet he already feels ragged, his skin scorching and tight.

something hot and thick prods his asshole. he slaps a hand over his mouth as you snap your hips forward, burying yourself so deep in him that he sees stars, the burning stretch achingly good. "mmph—!"

you hush him softly, holding him steady as he trembles in your arms. the hot weight of your body pinning his into the rough, cold alley wall is almost mind-numbing. "that's my good boy... halfway there. my good boy takes cock so well, doesn't he?"

whining softly, he nods fiercely, gasping out a shaky moan as you press your hips tight against his ass. "mhm, mhm, i do – ah! you're just s-so big, 'm close, so close—"

 "already?" your hips smack quick and rough against his ass, the lube making things wet and messy. he shoves his hand between his teeth and claws at the wall, the thick head of your cock grinding into his prostate and gliding against it with each thrust. "i just put it in, baby."

"s-sorry," he squeaks, his breathing haggard as his eyes dart between the ends of the alleyway. the headlights of a car rumble by and he clenches around you, eliciting a deep groan that rattles his spine and echoes in his head. "s-someone's gonna see – fuck, right there – h-hyung, they're gonna see—!"

"they will if you keep squealing your pretty head off," you grunt, gaze trained on the join between your bodies. his ass ripples, bouncing off of your hips with wet smacks, and arousal flames through your veins. you grab his wrists and pin them to the wall beside his head. "but you're so much tighter than usual – s'almost hard to fuck ya," you chuckle breathlessly. "you like this, don't you, my good boy? do you want someone to see the way you're crying on my cock?"

tears prick his eyes. you're right. his heart threatens to pound out of his ribs. he sniffles, moans high and airy. "n-no, i don't, 'm your good boy – please, sir, s-slow down—!"

his hips snap forward with a sharp cry as your cock slams into his guts. his vision whites out and his head spins, his body hot and sweaty even in the cool night, and he melts.

he arches his spine, throwing himself roughly back onto your cock and babbling for more. his hair bounces quickly, sticking to his temples, and his thighs shake violently as he comes into his jocks, sniffling and whimpering with hot tears streaking down his cheeks.

he's so messy. so embarrassed. he's acting like a slut. he squeezes his eyes shut and gulps back his loud moans, turning them into gasped whines and heavy pants as your dick scrapes his insides so wonderfully, filling him up like no one else ever could.

"sir – hyung," he babbles, melting into your hot kisses a little more with each harsh thrust, "hyung, hyung! please—!"

in the alleyway, the indent of the doorway you're hiding yourself in swings open. a familiar sleek face greets you, a cigarette between the lips.

it falls to the ground.

you yank jungkook's hips back onto your cock and he squeals, whimpering in shock and embarrassment as you fill him up right then and there. his huge, teary eyes stare back at you, his shaky hands pushing meekly at your stomach in an effort to get you to pull out, but you just step closer, forcing his body still as cum drips down his inner thigh from his jockstrap.

you tilt your head at the man who once, not too long ago, threw himself at jungkook, expecting to walk away in the morning with a satisfying ache between his legs. a tug on jungkook's long hair reveals the collar of dark, bruising hickeys littering his neck and shoulders.

jungkook moans your name, exhausted, and slumps against the wall, his hands trembling as he tries to steady himself against the cold bricks. you give one final thrust and jungkook keens, practically collapsing into your arms as his knees buckle.

you turn away from the stranger at last, dropping a chaste kiss to the nape of jungkook's neck. he shivers and whines softly, gripping your hips for dear life. you're the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the ground like a stringless marionette.

rapid footsteps. the door slams shut. you hush jungkook, nibbling another hickey into his flushed skin as you slide his pants over his ass.

"such a good boy," you whisper, wiping his tears away with the pad of your thumb. "my good boy, isn't that right?"

after a minute, he nods once, sucking in lungfuls of air as his head gradually clears of the thick fog. he leans back against you, tucking his warm face into the crook of your neck. your arms wrap securely around his waist. "yeah," he whispers vacantly, the tingle of pleasure still zinging through his nerves. "'m hyung's good boy... his..."

he's so cute like this, you think as you stroke his cheek and press a lingering kiss to his bitten lips. walking out of the alley, he grips your hand as if he'll die otherwise, but he decides that it's not close enough and hooks his arm over your shoulder, keeping yours around his bare waist. you help him keep steady on his shaking legs. his rosary of dark hickeys is a public announcement: he is yours, and you are his.

#top male reader #x male reader #male reader #dom male reader #bts x male reader #dom reader #top reader #bottom bts #bottom jungkook #jungkook x male reader #kpop x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut

[thebearer]

doing a boudoir photoshoot and giving an album with the pics to Carmy. He just becomes a flustered, stuttery mess, he keeps looking back between you and the album and goes “wow” and then just looses it

It was a wedding gift. A cousin of your friend, who did boudoir shoots for a living, gifted it to you as a wedding gift. You and Carmen were eloping. His family was messy, yours too, and you'd rather put the money from a wedding into a house. A forever home for the two of you.

Still, you and Carmen were set to go to Copenhagen in a week, get married out in the fields and mountains, the two of you, and Carmen's old friend as a witness. Luca, you'd never met him before, but Carmen and Marcus talked so highly of him you were excited to.

"You think he'll like them?" You asked, tilting your head as you flipped through each page, your best friend gawking and grinning at each page.

"Carmen?" You friend scoffed lightly, looking at you with a tilted grin. "Carmen will pass out. I know he will. No way he doesn't." She said confidently, flipping to the next page. "Oh-ho. Yeah, he definitely will especially after he sees this one, holy shit."

You bit your lip, looking at the photo. You in a veil- one you'd bought for the wedding, long-ish and sheer with tiny lace details at the bottom- sitting on the couch, legs crossed and tucked under you prettily, in the veil... and just the veil. All Carmen's favorite features on display.

You were nervous, holding the leather bound book, walking over to Carmen slowly that night. "I'm just going to wear my ring, baby. I'm scared I'll lose it in my carry on."

You hummed, sliding over to him. "I got you something." You purred, lashes batting up at him. "A wedding gift."

"A wedding gift?" Carmen repeated with a slight smirk. "Thought we said no gifts."

"Did we?" You shrug. "Well, I think you'll want this one."

Carmen gave you a pointed look, light and jesting, unraveling the ribbon before flicking the book open. It was a relatively tame shot, your hand with your engagement ring over your heart, cupping the lacy white material of your bra lightly.

Carmen looked at you. "Is-Is this...?"

You nodded, sitting up on your knees. "Keep looking." You hummed. "Think you're gonna like what you see." Your hands slid down his torso, eyes on him while he looked.

You could see his grip tighten on the pages, Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed, blushing from the tip of his ears down to his cheeks.

"Fuck, baby, this is... Wow." Carmen cleared his throat lightly, blue eyes darker, pupils dilated.

You rolled your lip between your teeth. "You like it?" You could feel your own heart hammering. "I-I know it's kinda silly, but I got it as a gift, and I just thought you'd like it-"

"-Like it?" Carmen lifted a brow. "Baby, I'm-I'm fucking obsessed. You look... Do you still have that?"

You nodded towards your own bag. "Thought I'd wear it for the wedding night." You grinned.

Carmen smirked, carefully setting the book next to the bed. "Fuck, don't think I can wait that long." His hands were on your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"It'll be worth the wait, Mr. Berzatto." You purred, your lips brushing over his.

Carmen squeezed you closer to him, hands gripping your ass, before he pressed himself into your kiss.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #carmy smut #carmy the bear #the bear

[yoisami]

˚₊‧୨୧ TELL YOU SOMEDAY

[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: i’m unsettled that i wrote a birthday fic for kuroo but not for my bf osamu :/ was gonna drop an angsty bomb for him LOL but decided not to for hana (ily bae) ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭

tags. kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, 1.5k wc, fluff, unestablished relationship, happy birthday kuroo yay, heavy narration sorry, if every time i use an em dash in my writing and i gain a dollar, i’d be a literal billionaire

“sit here and wait for me!”

brandishing your index finger at your couch, kuroo complies with your facetious command as he falls into the couch, sinking into the furniture. a familiar, frisky grin blossoms on your face before you turn your head to prepare “something” in the kitchen. you even declared that you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out of your apartment if he enters the kitchen.

“better be quick then,” kuroo jests, watching you leave the living room and into the kitchen. peeping your head out, you scrunch your nose as he reciprocates your expression.

you look at him once more as your lips break into another grin. “don’t rush me. good things take time!”

right now, you’re completely persuaded that he’s an idiot and is fully unaware of the little birthday “surprise” you’ve prepared for him, and kuroo pats himself on the back for being able to continue this game of pretend play. while you’re busy bathing in a pool of triumph, you don’t realise that you’ve fallen for kuroo’s fake ignorance—he knows that you’ve arranged a birthday cake for him, with candles to blow out at exactly twelve o’clock.

it’s currently eleven fifty-one, and you’re adding some final touches to kuroo’s birthday cake in the kitchen—the ultimate reason why he’s prohibited from entering the kitchen for the next nine minutes.

the corner of his lips curves upwards when you’ve left the living room entirely, and he dips his head backwards, throwing a palm over his eyes. with his vision partially covered, his sole focus is on the warmth that blooms inside his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and it feels as if his heart is about to combust. it’s beating violently and incessantly, and kuroo admits that he’s a lovesick fool—for you.

he’s twenty—soon to be twenty-one—but acts nothing like the true adult that he’s supposed to be. unable to control his teeming bliss, kuroo buries his face into one of the available cushions on the couch, murmuring and screeching incoherently into the slip before he lifts his head up.

whether it’s his love that makes him immature or it’s his inborn fate to be an idiot, kuroo feels as if he’s reversed time and become a second-year high school student again—someone who is eager to love another, and hopeful about the works of romance. kuroo established the fact that he liked you when he was fourteen and naïve, only expecting his feelings would eventually dilute when he entered high school. he was convinced that you were just a “phase” that he was yet to grow out of, but quite the opposite happened—he didn’t fall for a single one of his classmates because you continued to reign over his heart. 

their jokes were inferior to yours, and none of them were as talented as you. your voice had a pretty tone, and it’s distinct from everyone else’s—even to this day, your voice continues to call out to his heart, whether it was signalling to him or not. his classmates weren’t as kind as you, or as caring as you, or as selfless as you—you’re special to him.

and even though he’s in university, where there are more attractive and talented people, no one else could win him over like you do. kuroo believes that you have some superpower over his heart—kenma’s face twisted in disgust when he said that the first time.

to his dismay, you didn’t appear to feel the same way as he did. your pair of eyes followed another boy, and your romantic gestures were never directed at kuroo. in high school, you baked pink butter cookies for some other boy every year on valentine’s day. they were packaged in clear pockets that were tied shut by lace ribbons you purposely visited the department store for, and you’d arrive at school in the early morning to secure a spot for your gift on his desk. your heart seemed to call out to someone else; your heart seemed to be in the hands of someone else.

but after high school, things have changed. you no longer spend time thinking about a boy you like before falling asleep, nor do you bashfully fix your hair when he walks by. for once, your heart seems to be vacant for kuroo.

and he’d be stupid if he didn’t take that to his advantage.

for the past month, kuroo has been scattering pieces of his feelings beside your feet that form a path to him. in your conversations, he responded to you in ways that potentially suggested romance in hopes of confusing you (he has to have a bit of fun, of course), was acting more chivalrously around you, and was a tad more affectionate with you (throwing his arm over your shoulders when you’re walking, fixing your hair when the wind messes it up)—all of them were shimmering hints that he’s been hoping you’d take notice of.

and you have, and kuroo’s more than pleased to see that you mirror his gestures too. when he drops a pathetic pick-up line, you do the same; when kuroo flippantly taps your knee under the table, you take his hand and momentarily fidget with his calloused hand.

you’re flustered when he leans in close to tease you; in his periphery, he notices your prolonged stares, and you’ve changed your hair accessories to his favourite colour.

finally, you like him back.

“tetsurou! shut your eyes.”

kuroo straightens his posture as he closes his eyes, his hands resting on his knees. despite having his eyes shut, he could see that the lights in the apartment had been turned off. now, he’s limited to only four of his senses.

the sound of your footsteps lightly pad in his direction, and he could hear your broken giggles as you made a half-hearted attempt to hold yourself back from laughing at him. the heater softly whirrs, but the noise dissipates from kuroo’s focus when you begin to sing.

“happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you...” 

it’s a sweet tune that he hears once every year, usually sung by a number of his friends and family. their voices would combine, sounding a little off-tune and unsynchronised, and kuroo would never be able to tell whose voice belongs to whom.

“happy birthday dear tetsurou...”

but this year, you’re the first person to sing him this song, and he appreciates it more than yaku’s frequent voice cracks when he sings.

“happy birthday to you!”

your voice gently falls to end the song, but soon returns when he feels your elbow nudging his arm. “hey—open your eyes.”

the living room is dimly lit by tiny flame that flutters atop the pink candle, standing humbly as the only candle on kuroo’s birthday cake. it offers enough light for him to see everything within his vicinity, but it especially accentuates your presence.

“i sang you ‘happy birthday’ and you didn’t even open your eyes for that,” you sigh, plastering a counterfeit frown on your lips. he knows your pout is a joke when it quickly vanishes, defeated by your animated grin that puts his thoughts on hold. “make a wish.”

“alright.”

his eyes are closed again. his hands are clasped together and pressed to his lips, and his heart, eager and hopeful, is singing out to you:

i want to be the one you love.

there’s a short moment of silence before your voice interferes with the silence in the room. “done?”

opening his eyes, kuroo nods. curiousity glints in your irises, and you lean in closer to him.

“what’d you wish for?”

“can’t tell you that,” kuroo says. “if i tell you, then it won’t come true.”

“what are you, five? you know that birthday wishes don’t come true anyway.”

well, kuroo hopes that your assumption is wrong—very wrong.

“so, what’d you wish for?”

between the two of you, kuroo can see miniscule, colourless particles that maunder in the air. he then focuses on you—your skin imbibes the flame’s yellow glow, and your eye smiles remind him of half-moons in summer. perfection exists within you, and kuroo is accustomed to the twinkle of love that he sees in your pupils when light ricochets off your cornea. 

two years ago, you’d look at him with so much love—however, it’s a different kind of love that he sees in your eyes now. you look at him as if he collects glitter from the moon for you, and you look at him as if he’s the prince charming in your fairytale. you love him, and he loves you—

—but that’s a secret he’ll keep to himself for a little while longer.

“are you gonna an—”

when kuroo flicks your forehead with his blistered fingers, you jerk away, yelping “ow!” as you bring your hand to soothe the area, scowling at his trademark smirk.

“i’ll tell you someday. but i want to eat the cake now.”

© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.

#૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა — ୨୧ by saki #osamu my love just wait #i have smth for u dw ☺️💍 #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #hq fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro #tetsurou kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo imagines

[themotherofhorses]

- last of her house no more: prologue

Series Summary: She was born to Daenerys Stormborn and Khal Drogo on the Dothraki Sea, the youngest of their dragon brood. Known as the Seven Kingdom’s Delight, she trains with swords and arakhs, studies philosophy and history, and takes immense pride in the woman she is becoming.

But her life is forever changed when she comes face-to-face with her long-deceased Green ancestors, including the man the maesters refer to as the one-eyed kinslayer. Now, this princess faces a future not even her mother could foresee in her dreams

pairing: aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader

chapter warnings: none. aegon and otto, maybe.

main masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

Prologue:

Greens

The Red Priestess was an unexpected sight for the family.

Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, had recently been crowned King by the High Septon within the dragonpit, followed by his queen consort Helaena, only several hours back. Spirits were still high, and the Greens hailed this small victory through cups of fresh wine, a feast, and dancing. They toasted to the health and reign of the new king and the memory of the old. And although they knew that the Princess Rhaenys would bring her word of the crowning to Dragonstone, all thoughts of the war and retaliation would wait till dawning.  

Something doesn’t feel right. . . . Alicent Hightower thought to herself, her stomach in a roil. She was nursing a cup of honeyed wine while eating in silence, listening to her family’s bustling talk and the jests they threw about amongst each other.

“Are you happy, dear daughter?” came the voice of Otto Hightower. Alicent’s lips curled into a tight smile as she turned to her father, who placed a heavy hand atop her shoulder with a smile of his own. “Aegon is King now, as the gods’ will always meant. Helaena, his Queen. And through Aemond and his betrothal, House Baratheon will remain strong allies. Have no worry- things are now how they should be.”

As they should be. . .

In all truth, it did not feel that way, but she simply nodded. “Yes, father,” she murmured before excusing herself from the dinner table, needing to clear her mind. She caught Helaena’s attention as she left, but the young girl soon lost interest and glanced back to her plate.

The realm is going to rise in madness.

Alicent recalled the Princess Rhaenys before the coronation. You are wiser than I believe you to be, Alicent Hightower. She did not feel any wiser nor better about her earlier decisions. “Aegon is King,” she told herself as she made her way through the dimmed corridor, empty of the servant folk. “He is King, as Viserys wanted. . . As the gods permitted. . .”

And it was Alicent Hightower, Queen Dowager, that came across a Red Priestess standing alone in the Keep’s Great Hall, a silent and still statue shrouded in an elegant blood-red gown that pooled around her feet. Around her slim neck was a thick necklace with a large, blackened jewel that rested across her collarbone. The queen sucked in a deep breath at the sight. Both her late husband and father spoke of the Red Priests and Priestess, the sacred clergy in the faith of the R’hllor. The Lord of Light. Their presence was both rare and only for a reason.

The hall remained quiet, with both women just staring at each other. Then the Priestess unclasped her hands apart. “You were awarded a fine victory today, Alicent Hightower,” she spoke in the common tongue, “How might you feel?”

The queen did not know what to say to that. “Good,” Alicent answered, unsure. She could feel her heart quickening within her breast, and her father calling out for her outside the room, asking where she had gone. “You are a Red Priestess,” she then said, swallowing thickly, “-mind my tongue, for I have never had the pleasure of meeting one before; I have been told you appear for reasons only you know of. . . Dare I ask why you grace my family with your presence, especially on a night like this?”

The Red Priestess took a short step towards her. “I am as old as the waves of the sea, and the midnight stars you gaze upon in the sky.” She tilted her head to the side and smiled, pale eyes sparkling. “I have lived so many lives. . . seen many things. I witnessed the reign of Aegon the Dragon and that of his successors- both good and bad, kind and evil. . . And from your borne children shall come new kings. . . but you seem to know that already.”

“Do I?” Alicent prompted, her tone weak and soft.

She simply strode closer to the queen, who hid her trembling hands behind her back. The Priestess’s accent was thick and strange, unlike any voice she had ever heard before. “You would sacrifice everything you have to ensure the lineage is of your blood. It is an admirable thing until it isn’t.”

ALICENT! Otto Hightower shouted from outside. But Alicent could not answer his calls. She could also hear her sons asking for her as well, their footsteps growing louder, closer. Had she been gone for that long? It felt like it had only been several minutes. . .

 Do not come, she wanted to scream. Please. . ! Stay over there. . .

“Admirable, one might say. Or perhaps even foolish. I cannot help but wonder what might happen if you were granted a chance to see the future,” the Priestess paused shortly, her lips quirking, “Do you believe in it, the future? Many men do not, but alas, did they not say the same about the dragons?” Alicent opened her mouth, but the words fell stuck in her words. Suddenly she felt as if she was back in Rhaenys Targaryen’s bedchamber.

Alicent!

Mother?

Soon the hall’s massive doors slammed open. “WHAT IS GOING ON?” Otto yelled, entering the throne room. He was followed by his three grandchildren, two of whom were clutching longswords and daggers in their hands. “Alicent, my daughter, I have been calling for you to rejoin us-” his voice fell as he soon took notice of the Priestess standing but a few feet away, his hand dropping to the hilt of his own sword. He then turned to his two grandsons, bidding them to sheath their own.

“What has happened?” Otto caught her arm. “Are you troubled?”

Alicent shook her head, draping a hand over his. “No, father,” she told him gently, “but we have a guest.”

“Yes, I can see that. Red Priestess,” Otto nodded through a slight bow. “With that do we owe this honor? Are you here to bless the new king, perhaps?” he asked.

The Priestess shifted her shoulders towards the newcomers, breathing deeply. “I’ve come to spread the word.” Along the stone hall walls, the draperies swayed back and forth in a wash of ebony and crimson silk.

“The word?”

“Yes. A new king has been crowned today, it seems. . . and because of that, the future shall pay the price.”

Her eyes met Alicent’s and Otto’s, who stared her way in sheer disbelief. “The world is the way it because of Dragons. Dragons are gifts from the Lord of Light, sent to purify the non-believers and sinners. And the Lord of Light fashioned the Targaryens to control such. This world has known only the Targaryens. The smallfolk and the high lords, they have all bowed to the Targaryens and their dragons. To the fire made flesh. . .” she paused, frowning, a tiny crease appearing between her eyes, “-what would happen if there were no more to submit to?”

“Dragons?”

“No. Targaryens.”

The Priestess eyed the Hand and the Queen Dowager first, then drifted her sharp gaze to the newly crowned King, and his Queen Consort, and their future Kinslayer brother. Three of them, Targaryen blooded. Silver crowns and soft violet eyes. Dragon riders. Highborn and beautiful.

All will be dead soon, a pity. Their deaths will speak poetry to the lives they lived. Her features grew sympathetic, and her tone softened with kindness and mercy when she said, “While I come to spread the word, I am here to show it to you as well. Your family is doomed, and this is your one chance to save it.”

Targaryens

Her queen mother, above many things, is a dreamer.

The young princess cherished hearing stories belonging to the long days before her birth on the Dothraki Sea. According to the maesters, who already began writing the histories down in their scrolls and books, Daenerys Stormborn, in her early months of being a Khaleesi, dreamt of dragons every night in her tent. All her dreams played out the same- that if she braved the fire, her eggs would hatch. Such sounded nonsensical, of course, until it finally happened beneath the black midnight sky.

Her mother did say the Targaryens possessed the strange ability to do things normal men could not.

Sometimes, in the later morning hours, she would join her mother underneath the shade of their lemon trees and ask if she had dreamt any new dreams. Daenys Targaryen saw the doom of Old Valyria in her sleep, and the ill-fated Helaena prophesied her kid brother, Aemond One-Eye, losing his eye in the claiming of his mount, Vhagar. History remembered all of them; she often wondered if her mother would continue to foresee the future like them, and if she did, would anything change in their house’s fate.

Alas, to her dismay, nothing has changed. Her beloved mother has dreams, but none of the kind she pines to hear.

As of right now, she is her mother’s sole heir to the throne, the proclaimed future queen of the realm, born to Daenerys Stormborn and her Khal Drogo. The youngest in their dragon brood. Her shoulders ache a terrible lot, bruised and swore from the heavy burden she carries, knowing the dragon dynasty perishes with her death. But she refuses to sink beneath it.

Like her ancestor, the Black Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, she is this Seven Kingdoms' Delight. She trains with Valyrian-steel blades and arakhs, studies her history and philosophy, and flies across the bright-blue seas on the backs of the largest dragons in the world.

If her history is to include the fall of her House Targaryen- the true and goldenblood dragonlords of Old Valyria, she vows to make it the greatest royal reign the maesters shall ever record.

notes: yeah yeah, this is short but listen, I promise I'll feed ya plenty. this is the calm before the storm (at least this storm won't include granny vhagar committing more war crimes).

tag list: @dothrckis @dudfahsn @xcharlottemikaelsonx @animusxy @nsainmoonchild @rosaryos @xceafh @winxschester @trshngyn @aemcndtargaryen @hightidelowmood

(if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know. reposts and comments are greatly appreciated <3)

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #house targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #daenerys targeryan #mother of dragons #game of thrones #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home (Part 3)

Azriel x Reader

Part one | Part Two

Hi! I would just like to preface this part by saying that I know some things probably don’t accurately line up with the events of Rhysand’s history…I’ve kind of muddied the waters with that one for the sake of the story. But who cares? We’re all here for the Azriel content anyway! Enjoy!

Warnings: Mention of trauma.

⧪

Trouble. 

How could you have forgotten the endearing nickname that Azriel had once had for you? One that nobody but him had ever called you? A nickname born from all the times he’d stumbled upon you making mischief and turned a blind eye. All the situations you’d managed to talk your way out of that had resulted in no more than a funny story. And as you got older, your shameless flirtatiousness. 

Trouble. You’d used to love it when he called you that. It’d had you glowing, had you feeling special. He had been undeniably fond of you, and the soft, jesting nickname had always been testament to that.

You sat in the kitchen the next morning, that very nickname the only thing clanging around your head and keeping you awake. The rest of the house was still dead quiet, not even a creaking floorboard interrupting your silent brooding. The events of the day before both filled you with warmth — and an ice cold realisation.

 

It didn’t matter how many years had passed — one hundred or ninety-nine and a half — you were still just as in love with Azriel as you had been when you’d walked away from Velaris. 

“You’re up early.”

You jumped out of your thoughts, glancing up just as Feyre stepped into the kitchen, slipper-clad feet whispering against the floor. Her hair was unbound, and she wore just a modest nightgown and a robe tied around it. She truly was beautiful. 

“My mind woke me up.” You admitted, smiling.

“Ah. I worried that perhaps the idiots had woken you up when they hurried out for their snowball fight.”

You snorted. “They still do that?” The memory made your heart warm. “But, no, I have to blame all the excitement from yesterday for me being awake.”

The smile she returned suggested otherwise — that she expected it was down to more than just lingering excitement. She passed you and poured herself a cup of tea, sitting at the table.

“Thank you for welcoming me.” You said. “I’m sorry I turned up so suddenly. I just…”

“Worried that you’d back out of coming because of your feelings for a certain Spymaster?”

You choked on a swallow of your own tea, your cheeks heating. “What?”

Feyre smiled gently. “Call it female intuition. Or perhaps I just have a keen eye for these things. I couldn’t help but notice some…tension between the two of you.”

Gods, if Feyre had picked up on it within hours of being in the same room as you, it must have been obvious to every single one of them. You wanted the ground to swallow you up. 

She read that very thought on your face, emitting a soft laugh. “I don’t think anyone else observes these things quite as much as I do, don’t worry.” 

You did worry. But you inclined your head in thanks all the same. Your unrequited feelings would no doubt become obvious to everyone eventually. 

“Can I ask…” Feyre cleared her throat. “How long have you…?”

“Been in love with him?” Just saying it had your cheeks burning even more. You slapped a hand to them like you were trying to smother flames. “…Pretty much since I was old enough to recognise such feelings for what they were. It was always…different, with Az.”

Her head fell into a tilt. “How so?”

Good question. You sat back in your seat, chewing your lip. Traversing places far from home had afforded you the time and freedom to stow these thoughts away to the very corners of your mind. It had been a while since you’d sat and thought of them in such detail. But it was inevitable that you would return to brooding over it, with your homecoming. 

“Well…” You hummed quietly, thoughtfully. “Obviously Rhys is my brother. Our mother had me much later than him…and our father had no interest in me whatsoever. I’ve never known why. But even though Rhys was exploring his young adulthood, finding out who he was, dealing with war, he didn’t hesitate to take over that fatherly role so that I didn’t miss out. He was naturally protective of me, and Cassian and Azriel were part and parcel of that protection. But whereas I always had a sibling-type relationship with Cas…as I grew, I was never able to emulate that same feel with Azriel.”

As Feyre nodded slowly, you laughed at the memory of your younger self. “They were around a lot when I was young. I used to sneak out of our mother’s cottage in Windhaven and follow them to the training rings because I so badly wanted to be able to do what they did. One of the Illyrians found me hiding and watching one day and thought he’d teach me a lesson for sneaking around where I wasn’t welcome. He was just hauling me over his shoulder when Az came out of nowhere and made him regret it. Then he ditched his training to make sure I got home safely. That was when the crush began.”

Feyre laughed softly. “Sounds exactly like the noble princes in human stories.”

“That was exactly how I saw him.” You chuckled. “I hung off his every word after that. When I would sneak out to watch them train, it solely became him I would watch. When the three of them would stumble home, covered in dirt and sweat, and sit down for dinner, it was Az I would sit next to. I’m sure I annoyed the hell out of him.” 

You swallowed then, the more painful memories pushing to the front of your mind and souring your mouth. 

“...When my mother and I were attacked by Tamlin’s family…and she died…everything changed.” You cleared a lump in your throat. “I barely survived. I was so gravely injured that I was unconscious for days and days, and Madja thought I may never wake. When I did, I awoke to the knowledge that both my parents were dead, and Rhys was now High Lord. I don’t think any amount of training or court posturing could have truly prepared him for such a sudden responsibility…and on top of that, he had me — a traumatised teenager — to look after.” 

You knew from the letters between you and Rhys while you’d been away that Feyre’s own teenage years hadn’t been the easiest. To talk to somebody new and fresh — somebody who hadn’t been there with you at the time — was something you hadn’t realised you needed so badly. It was…cathartic. The easing of a weight that perpetually lived on your shoulders. 

“I didn’t make it easy for Rhys.” You admitted. “For the first couple of years, I completely went into myself. I didn’t talk about what Tamlin’s father had done to me. I was…a shell. And he was worried sick. And then in my mid-teens, I began to act out. To drink, to get myself into trouble…to the point that even Cassian began to tell me off. They didn’t know what to do with me or my behaviour, and they had enough to deal with. Enough responsibility. I got yelled at by Rhys and Cas a lot.”

Feyre looked at you curiously. “And what about Azriel?”

“Azriel had a more gentle approach.” You smiled. “He had a lot of trauma of his own and I think he understood me on a different level. By the time I was reaching my late teens, he began to train me, to teach me how to channel my pain and trauma into something productive. Sometimes we would talk, and sometimes we would just enjoy silence together. I began to change…to heal. I was becoming an adult, and my relationship with my brother…with everyone…improved. I began to enjoy life again…to have nights out at Rita’s and family meals and late night walks through the city with people I cared for. And that connection between Azriel and I remained…and strengthened. I thought he enjoyed being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him. That he might have similar feelings to mine. I guess I’d gotten inside my own head, and it never occurred to me that he could never see me like that.”

“…so?”

“So I tried to kiss him. On Starfall. I was twenty and totally in love with him by that point…” You met Feyre’s gaze, chuckling softly. “But he pushed me away and began to apologise for giving me the wrong impression. I was so mortified and hurt that I left. For almost an entire century.”

Feyre grinned. “You don’t do things by halves.”

“Nope.”

Gods, it was so good to just talk. You could talk to Mor, of course, but the waters there were slightly muddied…by Az’s feelings for her. Amongst other things. You hadn’t thought you’d ever see a day where Azriel wasn’t pining for her. 

And now there was Elain.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “…are Azriel and Elain…” You didn’t want to offend Feyre, being her sister and all.

It surprised you when Feyre rolled her eyes. “Gods, don’t even get me started on that.” She shook her head in disapproval. “Both Elain and Nesta had a lot of choice taken from them when they went into the cauldron. I don’t think Elain’s issue with her mate is so much a problem with Lucien as it is a problem with yet another fate being decided for her. I think…whatever she feels for Azriel is almost a way of her rebelling against the cauldron or the mother and choosing something for herself. And perhaps it’s a similar situation with Az…when he gave up on hope where Mor is concerned. He decided to take some of that choice back.”

You nodded slowly in thought. It made sense…but it was also equally likely that Azriel and Elain were just two people drawn to each other, mates or no mates. That there wasn’t some ulterior reason behind it. They just wanted each other. 

And Azriel would never want you. You knew this. You would always be Rhys’s sister he was so fond of, a lost person he empathised with, connected with in pain and trauma.

That was all. But you didn’t want to stew on those thoughts yet again. 

Feyre seemed to sense this. She smiled brightly, sitting up. “So. Now that you’re back, what do you plan to do?”

That was a better subject. “I dropped by to see Madja when I entered Velaris. She gave me a lecture, of course, about disappearing for so long.” You grinned. “And then she asked me to work in her clinic. She says she’s old and tired and wants to take a step back, have a more background role. So I guess I’m going to be Velaris’s senior healer. That’ll keep me busy.” Busy enough to ignore my feelings, you didn’t add. 

“Perfect.” Feyre grinned. “…I’m really glad you decided to come back, you know. Rhys is over the moon. And it’ll be like having another sister around.”

A sister you’d never had. You smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. 

Maybe you could make this return a good thing. Maybe it didn’t have to be overshadowed by heartache and past experiences.

Maybe you could eventually put your feelings aside and begin to heal from them.

⧪

Two weeks. 

It took only two weeks for you to feel like you’d never left. You’d reacquainted yourself with Velaris and its people, visited your old haunts, caught up with old friends — and old lovers. 

What had kept you mostly busy was setting yourself up in Madja’s clinic. Her taking some time off meant that you were either constantly seeing people at the clinic or, occasionally, being called out to an emergency somewhere in the city. It was what you lived for — helping people. Healing them. You were content.

A great gust of cold air blew into the clinic just before you were about to close up that evening. You looked up in time to see Mor flouncing in, her cheeks bitten by the cold and a gleam in her eye. She skipped over to the counter, grinning at you. 

“Guess what.” 

As you tidied various medical supplies away, you raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “You asked out that Illyrian female you were telling me about?”

“No.” She said quickly — it saddened you that she glanced around, worried even now that someone was listening. “No, not that. We’re having a party.”

You suppressed a groan. The last two weeks had exhausted you; you were pretty sure you were still recovering from the Solstice celebrations. And the reunions. The thought of another Inner Circle party so soon made you wince.

“We just had a party.” You pointed out. “The Winter Solstice was two weeks ago.”

“Ah, but this party is for you. Rhys is arranging the whole thing as we speak.” 

“There’s really no need for—“

“No, no, there is.” That mischief in her eye glinted like Starlight. “You see, we’re due for a trip to The Hewn City. One we all have to attend so nobody thinks we’ve become complacent and uninterested in the Court of Nightmares. And I know how much you always loved pissing my father off. What better way than to throw an arrogantly lavish party to celebrate your return? Consider it a homecoming gift. You know Keir will hate every second of it.”

You snorted — you had to admit, that did sound good. Seeing your uncle for the first time in years wasn’t something you’d ever rush to do, but to throw an extravagant party in the court that Keir liked to pretend he owned would bring you more satisfaction than you’d admit.

Mor read those very thoughts on your face, letting out an excited squeal. “Excellent. I’m going to get you an amazing dress, do your makeup—“

“Whoa, Mor, wait—“

“It’ll be great. You’re going to look incredible.” Without even considering your protest, she flounced back towards the door, one hell of a spring in her step.

“Az won’t be able to take his eyes off you when I’m done with you!” She called over her shoulder. And just like that, she was dancing out of the clinic as quick as the breeze she’d brought in with her, just the chiming bell above the door left behind.

You stared after her, stunned, her words leaving a swirl of nerves and anticipation — and surprise — in your gut.

Tags: @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fanfic #rhysand #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #feyre #amren #morrigan #nesta #elain #azriel fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #shadowsinger #spymaster #fluff #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar writing #acotar fluff #acotar x reader

[pelagaye]

hair as silver as coins

fandom: honkai star rail pairing: jing yuan x reader summary: jing yuan would be the fairest one of them all among everyone from the six flagships, if only you can tell him that is. no matter, his lazy demeanor and unbelievable appeal are two reasons to keep it to yourself. it takes one walk to change your mind. notes: this fic is inspired by snow white but it isn't an au of it. you'll def see some refs if you squint tho !! n e ways i dedicate this to my cousin who is obsessed w this man. he said he really had fun reading it so i hope that you guys do too ^^

the interrogation begins once the both of you were far enough from the populated areas of the luofu and the setting was simple. jing yuan’s back facing you, he who has coerced to follow him through the evergreens and tall grass. then there was you, who doesn’t mind if you end up collapsing from the strong warmth of the beams above any second now knowing the jing yuan would have no choice but to carry you back.

“lady fu does not take your irresponsibility lightly, general, you are aware of that, yes?” you claim, pushing away an overgrowing tree branch.

"ah, that is very spot on of you, my dear. remind me to commend the master diviner herself," he turns his head to the side catching a glance of you, "however, i do not see how it should affect our delightful stroll. do you not enjoy it yourself?"

the way how jing yuan easily dismisses your question leaves you incapable to suppress an upcoming groan. you swear he does these things on purpose. the audacity of him to call you "dear" is one of them of course, like, who even does that?

"anyone would agree that they too do not see such form of ecstacy with the overflowing papers on your desk, my general," matching up his pace, further reasoning with him. "your seven sparrows don't even make your situation lighter as they enable your procrastination."

"centuries would tell you otherwise. besides, if i were anyone else, i'd assume you were simply jealous of my feathered friends," jing yuan chuckles. "but as *i am* your general, it is alluring to me how you noted their exact numbers, this is exactly why i tell them about you."

he proceeds to tells you that you're nearing your destination but your mind is racing nonstop over the little things:

one, he noticed you referred to him as "my general" when you assumed he'd let it pass. two, he gossips you to the sparrows and although it catches you off guard because who talks to sparrows, you can only hope they're only good things.

—

you immediately detect the pride that surfaces on jing yuan's expression the moment he presents to you the main attraction of your walk.

in front of you stands a sturdy structure of a well. nothing too old but certainly not close to modernity. you wonder if you were just there to get a pail of water and bring it back to the luofu like a mad woman, a strange request not uncommon for the general with you.

he remains sensible, however. "finally" being the general he is supposed to be, you jest. jing yuan laughs at your retort after suggesting you look deeper into the well, promising to not push you down if you ever accuse him to.

so you do trust him, with all of your heart, because what choice do you have when he has already a hold of it way before all of this.

it takes you one peek before jing yuan follows behind you, almost making you- makes you want to believe he intentionally trapped you between the water reservoir and his body as he relaxes his head over your shoulder.

it is not explicit in any way but for safety measures, you remain motionless as you let your heart execute all the remaining movement you can muster.

"this well has become quite special to me for these past years of becoming an arbiter-general," his narrative begins. "you see, if your vision can reach the exact position where its liquid is, you can catch a clear reflection of yourself, no ripples to destroy the image you hold."

this provides you the courage to turn to him with a smirk. "is this your narcissism talking?"

"not particularly, i just like looking at it to remind how after all these years, i am still the same person i have made myself to be." he grins back. "but yes, there may be times i enjoy staring at myself, do you not do the same?"

was the question supposed mean if you enjoy staring at yourself or was it implying if you like staring at him? you will never understand. why does the general like complicating your life like this.

as you discreetly push the question aside, you ask a more important question.

"have i ever made a wish with it? what do you suppose to mean with that?" jing yuan questions.

fumbling with your pockets, you present a single gold coin to the man before you as you turned around, breaking the source of warmth you were getting from each other. "in other planets, you'd make a wish and throw this in the well as if it were some peace offering and hope it comes true!"

"ah~ i seem to understand it better now," the male exclaims. "then i must wish that lady fu does not poison me in any way~"

a laugh escapes your mouth. "and how do you suspect lady fu is to poison you, general jing yuan? she's too prideful for that sort of lousy play, how do you even expect her to execute that?"

"anything can happen, my dear! she might as well use a single apple to make things easier!" jing yuan continues the banter. "but i wouldn't fret knowing you'd be there, i'm sure you'd help break my curse! unless- you are to work alongside with that divinator then i will never get my true love's kiss!"

your heart starts doing its own thing again while your breathe hitches for a moment, unsure if you were in the right mind to respond. "how bold of you to think it's a true love that can only break such intoxication, general."

and out of the blue, jing yuan holds you close as his hands reaches for your cheeks. he stares at you with the utmost adoration that you had been denying for so long but despite it all, it's evidently there.

"that may be correct but at least," his face coming closer to your own. "even without a kiss, i am more than sure about my true love."

#HII GUYS IM NOT DEAD i just . sorta forgot this account due to preparations for college and stuff happening in life in general #anyways #it was p fun !! writing this !! rly challenged me big time #even had a whiteboard for me to dump all the snow white story references i wanted use in this fic heehee #idk why it took me so long to post SORRYY #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x you

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e6 rewatch notes - part 1

I'm breaking this up over two days (for length, clarity, and my own mental health) - I pause and scribble my way through scenes as I go, so there may be a few repeats here and there.

Natalie's bereft face in the opening, attempting to disassociate but failing miserably because that's not her coping style. She obviously doesn't even smoke by the way she's holding the cigarette, she just does it because - much like working inside a commercial kitchen - it's the only legitimate excuse for a break from the chaos. Both she and Mikey act like they've just exited the fog of war (because they have) and - unlike Carmy - they've never had the emotional or material means to escape it.

Sugar's "No one can make anyone else act a certain way" comment to Mikey - it's very clear that they perceive mental illness from very different angles. Mikey admonishes Natalie for her check-ins as an attempt to blunt/control Donna's outbursts, and Sugar's skepticism of Mikey's strategy of just riding the lightning/ignoring the outburst (while acknowledging that he and Carmy have more success, but she attributes most of that to being the female middle child of a grievously ill female narcissist).

Carmy coming out = a hot mess of family dynamics. He asks Mikey (innocently enough) to come in and handle the crowd by being "fun cool guy" and Mikey assures him that he will, but with a vacant look in his eye (no wonder this man was on drugs, what other choices was he afforded?). Fak is literally yelling indistinctly inside, upping the chaos, as Richie bursts outdoors amidst the three siblings to ask if "there's any family shit going on that he should know about".

Along with just trying to be ok themselves, these three adult Berzattos are a magnet for every other wayward adult-child who needs a home to reckon with their own trauma, and their inclusion becomes their problem as well and only ups the frequency of the despair. Mikey literally makes space for the three of them by dismissing Richie "for a minute", and you can tell that's not normal protocol.

"Would it kill you to pick up the phone?" - Carmy is already wounded by Mikey more than 4 years before his death. You can immediately tell by Mikey's earnest response (along with his previous discussion with Sugar) that he was just keeping Carmy at arms length to ensure he never returned, to spare just one of them from a life of hardship. In spite of everything else we see about Mikey and how poorly he manages his trauma in this episode, he is an inherently good brother who started early in inciting loathing in the person he loves above all others just to save him.

I wanted to peek behind the "Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us" bit, as you know damn well it wasn't selected by Storer by accident. The whole idea is that Mary, the Mother of Victory "pleads our cause with a mother’s heart and concern with whatever we bring her. Confident that Our Lady’s prayers are always heard we pray"

I may be reading too much into this, but that's a whole fuckton of power projected onto Donna. Even though it's said in jest, its maternal compassion and mercy that was never extended to the Berzatto kids. It could also be seen as "only Donna's prayers are heard and answered" (through the placating and emotional gymnastics performed by her children) so they utter this little prayer to her as much as they do to God - for control, for relative calm, for the day to simply be ok. They know better than to expect much more than that.

What is the actual point of Fak and Ted? I mean this narratively. I know that the Ricky actor who plays Ted originally worked on the set of The Bear in S1. Did the producers think they had an awesome "boys club" vibe and just plop them in as chauvinistic comic relief? Or is this part of a long-con? Do Fak and Teddy embezzle all of The Bear's money and retreat to Hawaii or something? Right now it's giving "Matty Matheson needs to sell more cookware" and I need a reason for this set-up, as the rest of the players offer more than enough relevant chaos to the episode.

Also, when they ask "Mrs. B, are our skateboards in here? Can we sleep over?" as Donna is cycling in the kitchen - Matty Matheson is in his 40's, so he time-traveled back to a rough-looking 35 to freeload off of his fake-besties Mom and aid in her spiral? I don't get the age timelines/ideas on what arrested development in this show are anymore....

"Say the fucking words" - ooof. I feel like a lot of ink has already been spilled on what the word "love" means in the Berzatto realm, but no wonder Carmy can't comprehend it even when it's right in front of him. Love to him is sacrifice and struggle, panic attacks, pacifying meltdowns, idealization and inevitable betrayal (hello other shoe!), and just saying the word because it diffuses an argument - not unlike rubbing one's chest.

So....what's the likelihood that the abusive chef at EMP is just a projection of Donna living rent-free in Carmy's head at this point? The way she lobs the ball at Carmy with all of the elements that need to be swapped when the timer goes off, the practical matters of running a high-pressure kitchen trailed with jests and insults and total emasculation. Yeah...I think it's pretty high up there.

The second Richie and Carmy trade off the homemade Sprite (before Carmy can grab the prosciutto and mortadella that his mom asked for 2 seconds ago) is just enough silence for Donna to feel abandoned and start unravelling again/start screaming about moving the pot. I can't quite place my finger on the weird amalgam of mental illnesses they gave this woman (hit me up, psych majors) but if its not over-scripted/acted, its a lot.....

Richie and Mikeys "Just take a break from being a mopey little fuck" - phew, these dudes really think that a high-school chick will be Carmy's salvation.

"I don't have a love of my life?" Carmy doesn't even flinch or show recognition of who they're talking about at first, and then it dawns on him that they've probably embarrassed him and he wants to crawl in a hole and die (which is the most honest feeling expressed this episode to date).

And wow. Donna intercepts the whole thing by throwing a spoon at Stevie and screaming "Richard, bring her the fucking pop!" - a.k.a the title of the previous episode with the house party. Those words ended the gang's harassment re: Claire, but then future Carmy willingly waded right back into the abyss of thoughtless conversations, bullying, projections, others' expectations, and the terrible Christmas.

Ok, that's it for now - I'll be back on my bullshit tomorrow.

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmy berzatto #mikey berzatto #sugar berzatto #the bear fishes #syd x carmy

[makeitallmarvel]

SNOWFALL

Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Your ears were practically ringing by the time Bruce had a chance to look at you and assess your injuries. The exhaustion fully kicked in as you swayed back and forth slowly trying to keep yourself awake. “Looks like we got to you just in time. By the looks of your scans and listening to your lungs you’ve suffered from major contusions from blunt force trauma.” He stated putting his stethoscope around his neck. “You need to rest for the rest of the day with light activity as needed. Stay on campus. I’ll monitor you throughout the day.” He recommended in his soft tone.

“Thanks B” you finally said after a long yawn. He gently kissed the top of your head, “Of course. Go see Fury and then get some rest.” He chuckled before returning to his charts. Slowly you trudged out of the room smiling to yourself. Seeing your friend so happy in a medical setting helping his friends and staying actively engaged with the Avengers lightened your heart. You could tell Bruce felt so much better in this role, able to leave the Hulk behind.

After a quick elevator ride and a long walk down the hallway in the east wing, you arrived at a lobby space. Behind the desk was a red head with glasses buried deep in her computer. “Hey Stace” you mumbled pleasantly as you passed by still in your gear from the mission. “Morning y/n. Go right in” she ushered as you approached Nick’s office door. Once inside his large office you took a look outside through the glass window that wrapped around the whole office. The morning light was a bit too much for how tired you truly were. You winced as you sat down in a chair and took a look around the room. Steve sat three chairs down the long boardroom table. Bucky sat at the end opposite of you. Your eyes locked for a moment causing your heart to malfunction. Your already low blood pressure dipped even lower and your head became fuzzy. “How did this seemingly simple assignment become such a shit show?” Fury asked with a bite in his tone. You gulped slightly, “see what happened was” you began. “I don’t want to hear it!” He yelled causing you to close your eyes tightly in regret. You shared a quick glance with Steve feeling like a kid who just got slapped on the wrist. “I expect more from you three. You are my first strings! I don’t want to see this again” he growled. The warning came across loud and clear. “Go get yourselves cleaned up” he dismissed you, “and Cap I want to see the debrief on this on my desk by tonight” he ordered. Steve stood to his full height and curtly nodded his head in agreement, “yes sir”.

“Ahh someone looks like they got a good nights sleep!” Tony joked as he placed a giant family style plate of eggs in front of you. “Yeah yeah not all of us are old enough to claim our AARP benefits and have retired.” You grumbled playfully. “Ouch. See that really is a comment for our good friend Capsicle over there” he gestured in Steve’s direction. From across the room you could see the smirk on Buckys face as his expertly trained ears picked up on your words. “And I’m not retired. Just pulling back my hours” Tony jested popping a forkful of eggs in his mouth. “Eat up Y/N we had a long night” Steve advised as he sat down next to you. Even after an entire night of combat he managed to still smell fresh while you were purposefully hiding your armpits in hopes no one smelled them with the slightest of arm movement. “Not that hungry, just ready to shower” you shot back quickly stealing two pieces of toast and bouncing to your feet. You were eager to get clean and go to sleep to aid your sore body.

On the way back to your room you had to walk by the medical suite. The glass let you see Bruce hard at work. He casually looked up and put a thumbs up in the air as if to ask of you were feeling ok. You quickly responded with a thumbs up as well before heading down the south hallway. While you waited for the elevator at the end of the hall you couldn’t help but relive every moment of last night in your mind. The way he held you so tight. His scent. His voice in your ear. It sent chills down your spine. The beep alerting you of the elevator snapped you out of your thoughts which left you feeling empty and cold. Traveling up four floors and to the end suite with a black door and a wreath made of thorns adorning it, you finally made it home. You were one of the lucky ones. Tony, Bucky, you and Spidey had vast balconies with open views all around to see the grounds. On your fourth floor southern wing you had neighbors of Wanda and Vision not to mention Loki. At last after another hour of slowly getting out of your suit from last night and getting stuck in your ripped leather pants for awhile, you were finally laying your body to rest. Every muscle screamed with an ache as you tried to relax yourself enough to drift into a sleep.

You had blacked out for three hours when your eyes opened again. Groaning you looked at the clock highly annoyed with your body’s natural rhythm. “Come on y/n go back to sleep. Don’t do this now” you coached yourself out loud. You were a notorious one for roaming the halls at night due to your insomnia. You closed your eyes to try again and laid still for about five minutes. The sounds of the birds and recruits running drills on the grounds filled your ears. It became overwhelming. Without even thinking you had tossed your pillow across the room in anger. You angrily walked out to your balcony taking in the scenes of the day around you. The sun shone bright in the sky warming your skin. You didn’t want to admit it but it felt incredibly good. It was calling you back into the hustle and bustle of the day rather than your bed. Quickly you tied up your hair and poured a drink from your bar cart. A double jack and coke. Taking a sip you moaned in satisfaction and headed out your door.

Your feet took you outside to the back main grounds. Maybe a walk would coax you back into the relaxation you desperately needed. Only a few moments passed by before your training had alerted you that someone was behind you and indeed your ears picked up on the footsteps. These were well trained and mostly silent. They stayed in the path of your own. “I thought you only roamed at nighttime” Buckys soft voice wafted into your ears and down to your chest where he made it hard to breathe. “Couldn’t sleep?” You asked him and he nodded his head yes pushing back his long hair. “Something like that” he sighed, “mind if I join?” He motioned to the path ahead of you. “Of course not” you smiled as you sipped your drink. “Let me try that” he demanded softly grabbing your glass before you could say no. He took a sip and coughed. “Damn you could give Tony a run for his money. You are a heavy handed bartender. That’s a woman after my own heart” he chuckled handing the glass back to you. The blush evident on your cheeks and it wasn’t the alcohol. It made it hard to walk thinking of you being his. That was something you didn’t think could ever be possible. You were always going to be his team mate and that’s all. “Tell me something I wouldn’t know about you” he wondered opening up conversation after a few beats of comfortable silence. “Bucky you know me pretty well.” You argued. “Eh just try. I’m sure you could surprise me.” He pressured with a devilish smile on his face. “Ok fine” you accepted the challenges and fell silent staring at the clouds as you thought of something good. “Ok one time when I was six I went horseback riding. And it was amazing! Probably the happiest I had been the whole summer that is…until I fell face first in a pile of mud.” You admitted. “Did the horse buck you off?” He asked clearly interested. “Hell yeah he bucked me off and when I looked up wiping mud from my eyes a giant toad was sitting there and croaked at me. I ran away screaming! And ever since that day I’ve been afraid of all frogs and toads. You will not see me ever dressing up as the princess and the frog for Halloween” you laughed. Bucky threw his head back with a smile as he took in the story. You had never seen him so alive. More importantly you had never been the person to make him feel this way.

An hour of passing anecdotes back and forth and you both were ready to rest your legs. Underneath the shade of a willow tree you laid on the soft, warm grass. Bucky lay next to you. “You make things seem normal. You make me feel normal” he mumbled but your ears caught every word. All you could do was lay there and try not  to get the big fat smile on your face noticed by him. “I’m glad” was all you could say even though your heart was about to take off into space. The pair of you laid in the grass for another two hours side by side in silence. Bucky looked over at you and found you facing him with closed eyes now peacefully asleep. He smiled to himself taking you in and feeling content for the first time in awhile. He turned his head back to the sky and closed his eyes as well. He finally felt safe enough to do so.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fiction #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fanfic #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction

[ravenousgf]

I hauled him to his feet but even that did not stir him. I could either drag him or carry him. I resorted to the undignified expediency of slinging him over my shoulder and toting him back to his chamber like a sack of grain. I dumped him unceremoniously onto the bed, and fastened the door behind us. Then I dragged off his boots and shook him out of his jacket. As he fell back onto the bed, he said, "Well, I did it. I'm certain of it. I'll apologize tomorrow, most abjectly, to Lady Bresinga. Then we'll leave immediately. And all will be relieved to see us go. No one will follow us, no one will suspect we track the Prince." His voice wavered toward the end of this speech. He still had not opened his eyes. Then, in a strained voice he added, "I think I'm going to vomit."  I brought him the washbasin and set it on the bed next to him. He crooked an arm around it as if it were a doll. "What, exactly, did you do?" I demanded. "Oh, Eda, make it all stand still." He clenched his eyes tightly and spoke. "I kissed him. I knew that would do it." "You kissed Sydel? Civil's intended?" "No," he groaned, and I knew a short-lived moment of relief. "I kissed Civil." "What?" "I said—" He paused abruptly and his eyes grew round. He leaned toward the basin, but after a moment he only burped gassily and lay back. He groaned, then continued: "I said I understood their understanding, and hoped that perhaps we could come to an understanding of our own. I clasped his hand in mine. I said I saw no difficulty. That Sydel was a lovely girl, as lovely a girl as he was a boy, and that I hoped we might all become close and loving friends." "And then you kissed him?" I was incredulous. Lord Golden screwed his eyes shut. "He seemed a bit naive. I wanted to be sure he took the fullness of my meaning." "Eda and El in a tangle," I swore. I stood up and he groaned as the bed moved beneath him. I walked to the window and stared out. "How could you?" I demanded of him. He took a breath and strained mockery crept into his voice. "Oh, please, Beloved. You needn't be jealous. It was the most brief and chaste kiss you can imagine." "Oh, Fool," I rebuked him. How could he make a jest of something like this? "It wasn't even on the mouth. Just a warm press of my lips to the palm of his hand, a single flick of my tongue." He smiled feebly. "He snatched it away as if I had branded him." Suddenly he hiccuped loudly and then made a sour face. "You're dismissed. To your room, Badgerlock. I've no more need of you tonight." "Are you certain?" He nodded, a short vehement nod. "Go away," he said plainly. "If I'm going to puke, I don't want you watching me." I understood his need to preserve that much dignity. He had little enough left. I retreated to my room and shut the door. I busied myself with packing my things. A short time later, when I heard the sounds of his misery, I did not go to him. Some things a man should do alone.

good LORD. the bisexuality the pointed swerve on this two-man-room holiday with your boyhood best friend the drunkenness the excuses the clear attempt to salvage pride the intoxicated hope in flirting through the uncertainty the wilful ignorance of fitz's discomfiture while catering to it with every move and every word even in that drunken stupor. HE GROANED AS THE BED MOVED BENEATH HIM. robin hobb's fool the character that you are

#realm of the elderlings #''i longed to live the clean and uncomplicated life of a wolf.'' says guy who has been a royal dog since the age of 6

[sitp-recs]

heyo! do you know of any fics with period-typical homophobia? i really crave that hurt/comfort yknow

Hello! Sure, I listed below some fics exploring external and/or internalized homophobia. Back in the day (2008-2014) many fics touched on this topic so older stories will likely have what you’re looking for. @writcraft often explores it in their work so I’d definitely browse their full catalogue for more treats!

Born Sick by Writcraft (M, 6k)

Draco has been raised to believe homosexuality is a sin. When he encounters an out and proud Harry Potter, his world turns upside down. He is forced to question his beliefs, his values and himself.

I'll never be your chosen one by Andithiel (E, 15k)

Draco doesn't know what exactly he’s doing with Potter, he doesn't know how their unspoken agreement even started, and doesn't know where it will end. The only thing he knows is: he's not in love.

Vanishing Cabinets by Romaine (E, 18k)

Take one Wizarding Family Values politician who has a secret life, and add one Auror who detests discrimination of any type, but becomes a bit obsessed with said politician, and you have enough sparks to ignite a Beltane fire.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (M, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.”

Secret Love Song by Writcraft (E, 22k)

If there's one thing Draco's certain about, it's that Harry Potter's hiding something. When he gets to the bottom of Harry's closely guarded secret, a flippant solution brings them closer together and forces Harry to confront his past.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 29k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others. HP/DM, with background HP/GW. Themes of alcoholism, love triangles, and dubious fidelity.

All Roads by korlaena (M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by Writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore (E, 65k)

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

Away Childish Things by lettered (T, 154k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

Things Worth Knowing by Femme and noeon (E, 164k)

After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco's just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He's hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems.

Changing of the Guard by Lomonaaeren (E, 210k)

Need a perfect stranger? Ask Metamorphosis. Harry Potter runs the business secretly and becomes whoever’s needed for each occasion. He’s not sure whether he should be more surprised, worried, or amused when Draco Malfoy comes to Metamorphosis and requests an actor who can play his boyfriend so that his parents will disown him.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #cw homophobia

[clonesupport]

Pleasure Falls

jorah mormont x f!reader

word count: +2.7k

warnings: 18+, NSFW, pre-established relationship, exhibitionism (kind of semi-public i guess considering it’s a hidden waterfall lol), unprotected sex, water sex (water sex is dangerous lol don't try it at home y'all), soft humping, p in v sex, creampie, porn without plot, smut under the cut

a/n: a little birthday present to myself lol, imagine there's some little hidden fresh water pool with a waterfall somewhere while you're on some excursion of some kind lol, a nice quiet little place to unwind for a bit^^, i got this idea from standing in my shower for too long HAHAHA anyway waterfall sex✨ hopefully i can regain my mental energy and break out of this writers block soon cuz i have so many things i wanna write but no motivation TT

You and Jorah had decided to take a path off the main road, thinking to venture around the wilderness during your travels. You ride up a small path through the trees, looking for a nice quiet place to rest for a while. As you rode, the rock walls on either side of you become higher and higher as you observe your surroundings. Plants have overgrown the tops of the cliffs, creating a beautiful array of foliage in various shades of green and shapes. "Are you sure you know where we're going?" Jorah chimes from behind you as he follows your lead further away from the main road.

"Of course not," you look back at him, grinning at the unimpressed raise of his brows, "where's the fun in knowing? It's the intrigue of an adventure's mystery that leaves room for excitement." You jest before turning back around and picking up your pace towards, from what you could see, what could be the end of the trail. You could begin to hear the sounds of running water splashing in the distance, the idea of a waterfall exciting you as you brought your horse to a quicker trot nearing the source of noise. You push past the tall overgrown plants that stood in the way, riding through the shrubbery and grass to find what hid behind.

You disappeared from view beyond the tall bushes and shrubs, leaving Jorah alone on the path with nothing but the sounds of flowing water and his own horse to accompany him. "Y/n?" He calls gently, riding closer to the plants to push them aside and see for himself what you'd found. "Y/n, what has distracted you this time.." Jorah's voice trails off the moment he sees what you're staring at.

You stood amazed before a hidden paradise, a small waterfall descending into a pool of water. The water was clear and blue, the rock walls surrounding the trail lowering to create a hidden oasis. Layers of trees and bushes hid the pool with a gorgeous open view to the sky. Vines and foliage grew and climbed around the rocks and over the top, framing the stones beautifully with its many leaves. You gently dismount your horse, walking towards the water and dipping your hand it, testing its temperature. The water lapped over your hand in a soothing, cool, rippling wave from the waterfall. In the humid climate, the pool was incredibly refreshing.

"How has this place stayed hidden," you say quietly, marvelling at the view, "the water's fresh and isolated from the rest of the world, no one's venturing here. This place is beautiful." You finish gushing over the new found treasure, turning your head back to Jorah. His face said it all, he was just as amazed as you were though perhaps his stoicism hid it a bit better than you did. You could see the twinkle in his eyes as he looked around, taking in every stunning detail of the secret waterfall as if he'd never seen anything like it.

You take a deep breath in and notice something, "Seven Hells, even the air is as fresh as the water, could this place get any better." You smile closing your eyes as you inhale the fresh air through your nose. You could still smell a subtle stench of the humidity though it seems the fresh water and its surroundings had truly chilled the air. Cupping the water in your palms you bring it to your lips, sipping the cold water down your throat before splashing the water over your face. You practically groan at the refreshing water hitting your skin, running your hands up and down your face, carding the cold water through your hair.

Jorah hitches your horses behind the the first row of trees, leaving them in the shade before he joins you at your side, squatting beside you to feel the water for himself, "It is refreshing." He confirms, standing with his hands resting on his hips as he watches the view. You straighten yourself out, bringing your arms up for a stretch as you close your eyes to take in another deep breath, a small smile pulling at your lips. Jorah watches you with a soft smile of his own gracing his face seeing you this content. You peek open your eye at him, your grin growing sly as you catch him watching you. Turning, you step towards him bringing your arms around his neck.

You hum as he rests his hands on your waist, "Let's go for a swim." You gaze up at him, your words tinging his cheeks pink at the idea. You lean up to peck his lips softly, "Please? It'll feel good to cool off." You spur on, doing your best to convince him to agree. You kneed the nape of his neck, watching him melt into your touch, clearly caving into your wish as you lean up for another quick kiss. He doesn't speak, only responding with a smile and a light squeeze of your hips. You pull your lip between your teeth in a cheeky grin as you step away from his grasp.

You begin to strip yourself of your clothes, catching Jorah off guard as you pull your shirt off. You notice his somewhat stunned expression, "What? You thought I'd go in fully clothed? You can if you want, but I will say I think I'd enjoy it more if you didn't." You notice the pink tint in his cheeks while his eyes trail your bare upper body shyly, his reaction making you smile, "It's not like you've never seen it." You tease, tossing your shirt aside. His eyes snap back to yours as you speak, making you chuckle as he begins to fumble with his shirts ties.

You turn to face the water, quickly kicking off your boots and pulling down your breeches, piling them with your shirt and belt. You place a careful step into the water, instantly feeling its cooling effect soothing your senses. You excitedly immerse yourself into the pool, sighing as you feel yourself instantly ease into the water. You're quick to dunk your head under its surface, swimming through the water towards the waterfall before resurfacing. You keep your shoulders under water, turning to Jorah to see him slowly following you, stepping into the pond.

You eye him as he descends into the water, sinking your face down beneath the surface of the soft waves, keeping your eyes above the water as your gaze drags over his nude body. Jorah's eyes meet yours, catching you watch him as you smile from across the way. He can spot your smirk under the water as he joins you, "You have a subtle eye." He comments, bashfully grinning as you laugh lightheartedly, standing to close the distance between the two of you as you near him. Your hand reach to smooth against his waist, trailing them up his chest as your eyes follow.

Goose bumps rise on his skin beneath your touch as the cold water trickles down from your palms, your own skin perked from the contrasting temperature. He takes a step closer, hands coming to cup your elbows as he looks down at you with a soft but shy gaze. Your hand cups his neck, enticing him to follow you as you take a few steps back towards the waterfall. The water rose higher up your hips as you pull him into a kiss, a sigh leaves his mouth as you mold your lips to his. His hands trail down from your arms to your sides, gently squeezing your plump flesh.

You stop at the base of the waterfall, pulling away to look into his hooded eyes, his gaze soft while his hair ruffles softly to the breeze of the fall. The water around you reflected in his eyes as they regarded you with such longing adoration. He looked at you with such sincerity, pupils blown as they scanned your features. He always seemed so entranced by you, bewitched by everything you did even if it were simply nothing. "You're staring." You whisper in a tease, cocking your brow as your flustered grin beams up at him. He leans down to seal your lips again.

"And you tease too much." He replies between kisses, lips pressing against yours hungrily yet restrained as if he was trying to hold himself back. You could taste the yearning on his tongue, pulling him closer to you by the neck as you continue to step back. The waterfall splashed down your shoulders before you quickly step through it, chilled water beating down the both of you and you stumble behind the fall. Jorah's hand comes behind you to cushion you against the stone wall, his other grasping your back to catch you before you stumble too far back into the rocks. "Careful." He murmurs against your lips, feeling the water run down your faces as you press your back against the cold rocks.

You moan against his lips as you kiss him, bringing one of your legs up around his, locking your ankle around his calf to pull him closer between you. His hand goes to cradle the back of your head, the other hooking under your thigh, hiking up your leg above his hip. He steps closer, fitting himself between your open legs, pressing his growing hard on against your heated sex. He swallows another one of your mewls and his hips slowly roll against yours, cock grinding softly against your cunt. His groan muffles into your mouth, the feeling of your warm folds massaging his sensitive length sending his mind reeling.

You curl your fingers into the base of his wet hair, tugging softly to pull him impossibly closer with the help of your leg hooking around his waist. Jorah's eagerness quickly outgrows his senses before he's quick to to reach between the two of you, grabbing a hold of his cock and angling himself into your cunt. Your juices flowed inside your hole, his length slipping into you with ease. He eases himself inside you to the hilt with a slow moan, dropping his head down into the crook of your neck as you let out a gasp, gently throwing your head back in time with his insertion.

His tip nudges against your cervix, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through your core as you held him tighter. "Jorah.." You sigh as his teeth grazes your wet skin before his lips suck your tender flesh, littering kisses across your shoulder. His cock ground into you slow and deep, his hand reaching around to grip your ass and pushing you into his motion, enticing himself deeper into you. Every languid thrust pressed into your a-spot, your hips naturally rolling in time to meet his with the help of his hand. You whimper with every drag of his cock inside your tight cunt, his head pressing all your pleasure spots just right as the water sloshes around you gently.

Jorah's moans are just as audible as yours as he loses himself inside you, his thrusts picking up in speed slowly but surely. His hot breath warm against your neck, his pulse elevating as his hips slowly buck up into yours. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and neck, leg hiking higher and higher up his hip with every thrust. "More," your plead is quiet and choked with a soft moan, "please, Jorah, more." Your beg only spurred him on, his stomach fluttering at your words as he instinctively begins bucking harsher. His grip on you slips from the water only for his arm to snake around your back and pull your body flush against his.

His pace never falters, his arms clinging to your body as he fucks up into you. The water splashes around the two of you with every thrust, his cock dragging against your g-spot so deliciously as it pulls moan from moan out of your lungs and into his ears. Every heaven sent sound that left your lips makes Jorah's chest flutter and stomach flip, his cock throbbing inside your silky cunt while he attempts to hold himself together as he fucks you full.

The sounds of the waterfall masks all evidence of your presence as your voices drown in the rippling splashes of the fall. With his perfectly angled thrusts you can already feel the intense pleasure building inside of you. His hold on you only excites you more, his hands slipping from the water with every desperate grab and squeeze of your flesh between his fingers. His moans echo against your skin as he attempts to keep his pace all the while trying to hold you close to him. Your fingers fist his hair, gripping and pulling at the wet strands while he drives into you.

An elongated groan strings from his lips as you tug his hair, his head tilting back with your pull, mouth agape while sighs escape him. His eyes blink slow at the mixed pleasure, his eyes peering down at you through wet lashes. The look he gave you made your stomach flip, causing you to moan as you lean up desperately to feel his lips on yours. Your lips press to his in chaste, the taste of fresh water spreads across your tongue as one of Jorah's hands slides up your back, coming to collect your dripping hair. His hips stutter, your walls clench around him as you moan into his mouth. The two of you part just long enough to catch your breath as you begin to feel your release build quickly in your abdomen.

The pleasure coursed through your body with every quick and deep pump of Jorah's cock, his own breathy moans shaking as he begins to edge himself closer. His nose pressed against yours, his moans fanning across your lips. His finger pads easily bruising your delicate skin the firmer he grips to pull you beyond closer, every inch of skin pressed against each other the harder he fucks up into you. He's completely losing himself in you, and you in him as your orgasm builds rapidly. The friction of his pubic bone rutting against your clit sends your nerves into overdrive, giving you just enough stimulation to force out your orgasm.

Your hips jolt at the sudden crash of your orgasm, a scream ripping through your throat as you throw your head against Jorah's shoulder. Your moan hitches in your throat, the wind getting knocked out of your chest as you attempt to control your senses. A moan forces itself past your slack jawed mouth, releasing a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding. Pleasure surged through your entire body as every muscle in your body contracted with each crushing wave of your climax. Your cunt clenched around Jorah's cock so harshly it made him see stars while your nails dug into his skin, carving crescents into his flesh as you attempt to ground yourself.

Within seconds, Jorah's joining you, his own orgasm coursing through his body in white hot shock waves of pleasure. His own choked moans are muffled into your hair, his hips stuttering with every electrifying jolt of pleasure. He bottoms out within you with shallow, deep thrusts caused by every ripple of his orgasm, his cum spurting into your used cunt. His hips roll into yours slowly as your whimpers become languid moans, your post orgasm haze quickly numbing your mind.

Your tense body goes limp in Jorah's arms, knees buckling as your hands loosen and slip from their grip around him. His hold on you stays strong as your weak frame is supported by his arms. You lazily turn your head to rest your cheek against his shoulder, leaning your weight into him and closing your eyes in the process. A smile creeps to your lips when you feel soft, gentle kisses peppering slowly across your neck and collar. Your skin's soft and slippery against his lips as he trails tender kisses across your exposed body.

With your smile still present, you press your own kiss against his shoulder before you let out a soft chuckle. Jorah barely catches your giggle over the sound of the waterfall before he pulls away looking down at your exhausted self, he smiles upon seeing your own. "That was probably one of the most wild fantasies I've ever lived." You say, a slight giggle in your exasperated voice as your eyes flutter open, eyes peering up at him. His gaze is as soft and loving as his smile.

"I will admit, this will be a moment to remember." He replies, voice raspy before he leans down to kiss your cheekbone.

#jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont #jorah mormont x you #got #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #jorah mormont smut #got smut

[opheliajupiter99]

Enodi: The Faceless Clown - Interview for the Carnivale (Sad/Lovecraft tw)

It was a rainy night at the Carnivale, a few scattered carnies busy tarping the rigged games so they wouldn't short-circuit, while others still made sure the tents were tied tight, so water wouldn't leak through. They didn't speak much, or even look at each other, focused on their work, carrying with them a downtrodden sort of air.

They were hiring new acts at the Carnivale, but with the poor weather, the turnout wasn't expected to be high; in fact, only two people had shown up so far. A halfling with a quite pathetic juggling act, and an elven woman with a flute performance; the performance was decent, but not better than the little fellow that played the ocarina, so she was turned down regardless.

Mr. Lecroux walked past the carnies, who kept their heads down as he passed, and headed to his own personal tent, the most lavish of the bunch of course, assuming no more acts would pass through. Just as he was about to pass through the curtain, he passed, turning his head as he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

Half of a mask, pearly white in color, the dim torchlight of the Carnivale highlighting it, the mouth of the mask pulled down into a frown, and a wide, yellowed eye staring out from the mask's depths. Lecroux just stood there for a moment, staring at the sight, before the figure inched a bit closer, his features becoming more clear.

It was a short, skinny elven man of dark skin, long dark hair trailing halfway down his back, wearing jester-like attire tied akin to a robe, and of course, his most notable feature, the Comedy/Tragedy mask he wore, the other half now visible, a baby blue with its mouth turned upwards into a smile.

"Am....I-I late?" The elf croaked, his voice hoarse and ragged, as if he either chainsmoked or was deathly ill. Lecroux continued to stare for a moment, looking the man up and down. After a moment, he gently nodded, eyes slightly narrowed. "Nah...nah, ya ain't late. Come right in, fella." He said, waving him in.

The pair entered Kremy's tent. It was purple and green in coloration, its 'ceiling' reaching up into the sky, with a silken purple and green bed off to the one side and a desk at another, with two chairs on either side; one just as lavish as everything else, and the other a simple, cracked wooden chair, fittingly summing up the divide between ringmaster and carnie.

The elf sat down at the appropriate chair in silence, the ringmaster quickly sitting across from him, interlocking his clawed fingers together as he leaned against the desk. Sitting this close to him, he began to notice an odor, but decided to ignore it - for now, anyways.

"So, fella, first things first; what's ya name?"

"Enodi."

"Just Enodi? No last name?"

The elf shook his head, those sickly yellowed eyes never leaving the ringmaster.

"Uh, right...well, whattya do then Enodi?"

A quick, manic giggle echoed out from the depths of the mask, the elf's tone quickly turning from soft to elated. "I m-make people laugh! I sing, a-and I dance - t-tell tales, and jest, to make the children giggle!" He said, producing another giggle of his own, his eyes scrunching up slightly to indicate he was smiling under the mask.

"Aaaah, right, a clown yeah? Guess I shoulda figured with that getup...welp, we -did- just free up a slot on our clown act.." He hummed, clacking his claws together in thought. He looked the man over once more, taking note of the lute upon his back, before his eyes naturally focused back on the mask.

It was quite hard to ignore, completely covering the man's features beyond his eyes. Lecroux didn't like masks much; a lot of tells of a person's emotions, of their lies, laid in their faces. Part of it was body language of course, but a performer could easily hide those kinds of hints.

"What's with the mask?" He inquired finally, the question leading the elf's eyes to rise from the desk back to the ringmaster.

"It's my face."

Kremy blinked, tilting his head. "Yeah yeah, I get it, it's part of ya thing, but I mean like, ya wear it all the time or-"

Enodi shook his head. "No, I mean it's my face. I-I need it." His voice cracked slightly at the last part, almost as if in a pleading fashion. Kremy rose a metaphorical brow, leaning back in his chair. "I didn't mean to offend, fella, I'm just askin' a question."

With a hum, the little bard shrugged. "Okay." He said simply, then reached up to grasp at the clasps behind his head, which held the mask in place.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm showing y-you why I n-need it."

With a soft click, the mask slid from the elf's face, a revolting squelching noise following the motion. Kremy's eyes widened immediately, wide jaw falling slightly agape at the sight before him, the foul scent that had once been minor now becoming far too noticable.

Kremy just...stared, wide eyed, for nearly half a minute, at the rotten, faceless horror that sat before him. The expression didn't seem to bother the little bard; either he wasn't offended, or he'd seen the expression so many times before, he'd grown numb to it. Perhaps both.

"...Y-Ya dying..." The ringmaster said finally, his voice shaking ever so slightly. The bard shrugged, moving to pick his mask back up and reclasp it as he spoke. "I know. I-It's alright though, it doesn't hurt." The ringmaster took a moment to recollect himself, blinking a few times and rubbing a hand over his snout, trying to get the rotten scent out.

"...Are ya contagious?" The elf pondered the question for a brief moment, then shook his head. "I d-don't think so. The h-healers that t-treated me didn't get s-sick. But I-I'll be careful, I promise."

His face fell, metaphorically speaking anyways, as he saw the ringmaster mull the thought over more and more; he didn't care if he found him disgusting, he only cared about missing his chance to entertain. "I-I don't need pay!" He blurted out, the words quickly regrasping the gator's attention.

"I-I'll probably be gone soon anyways, so I d-don't need pay. Just...p-please. I need to make them laugh! Please!" The bard begged, his yellowed eyes carrying as much desperation as they could in their withered state. Kremy took in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh.

"A'ight, ya can join. But ya gettin' a small tent, and ya stayin' there. I know ya said ya ain't contagious, but I ain't takin' chances." Enodi nodded hurriedly. "Y-Yes, yes, of course! Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you!" He clasped his hands together, producing another squelching noise, making Kremy cringe.

Later that night, Enodi had been settled in his dinky little tent. It was pathetic, even by Lecroux carnie standards, the floor of it covered in sawdust, as if in an effort to soak up what contagion the elf might carry, and barely anything laid within it, just a straw 'bed' off to the corner, a bucket, and a simple wooden chair.

Enodi didn't care though; he was beyond overjoyed. He spent that night, sat in front of one of the walls of his tent, regaling his exciting day to seemingly no one. The voices that danced about in his head listened intently, as they always did, chattering in return in their endless cacophony, and the poor little bard only finally slept out of pure exhaustion sometime later.

None of the bad mattered. Only the laughter and the smiles mattered.

#once upon a witchlight #enodi #tw sad #lovecraftian horror #once upon a witchlight fanfic #kremy lecroux

[lya-dustin]

The Philosopher

Aemond x fem!Braavosi!reader

(The idea of universities existing in asoiaf is my idea, universities and colleges have existed since the 12th century at the least. Braavos is based on Florence and i ran with the idea of it being Early-Renaissance Italy)

This was also the one-shot i built through polls with fem!reader and the prompt:‘I have fallen for you so … I’m fucked.’

Thanks for playing, enjoy the fic

Gif by @bichachonacho

Despite the neglect from both his parents ---one too ill to care and the other too busy--- Aemond had everything he wanted and the best of it.

So, when he asked, no, demanded the most famous master of philosophy in the world, he had not expected you.

He had heard of Braavos admitting women into their prestigious university, but surely, they would not be so foolish as to send a woman to teach him?

For fuck’s sake, less than half the noblewoman were literate in Westeros!

Grandsire would be appalled, mother insulted and Aegon will likely be feigning an interest in philosophy just to harass the poor girl.

“I was told Master Bergamo would be teaching me.” Aemond said hoping he had been right.

“Oh, he is, he is rather unwell from his travels unfortunately, so until he is better I will be teaching you, your highness.” You said as you continued setting up the sitting room to your liking. “Will that be a problem?”

“No.” the prince lied.

“Usually my lectures have me behind a curtain to avoid distractions, would it be too much of an inconvenience for you if I were to be behind a curtain?” you asked and Aemond wonders if he answered far too quickly.

He was not like other men, for fuck’s sake. He could handle being taught by a beautiful woman.

“Suit yourself, your highness, but I do warn you. Men who refuse the curtain often end up falling in love with me.” You say in jest, he hopes it is merely a jest.

“Perhaps, I will be the exception.” He finds himself saying and falling into an unusually easy banter with you.

As time passes, Aemond realized you had been serious.

There was something in the way you spoke, how you taught and worst of all, how your eyes lit up as you passionately debated with him.

Even when your father taught him, you were there assisting him, and despite your Braavosi accent and your skepticism in the Faith of the Andals, he found himself falling for you.

Every lady his mother offered him all paled to you.

No gold, no lands, no alliances were enough to get you out of his head.

None could argue about philosophy and ethics and whether gods are real like you did. No one was as well read and interesting as you, fuck, some of them were not allowed to read because their fathers and septas were afraid of them becoming too smart for their husbands.

Father seemed to hint about it when he spoke to him until he got tired of Aemond’s indecisiveness and outright gave his blessings to wed you.

Cole had then told his mother, and mother had used her influence to end Aemond’s lessons and send you and your father back to Braavos.

You had been crying, Aemond had heard about the awful things his mother’s ladies and his own fucking mother had said about you to hasten your departure. “Have you come to say goodbye, my prince?”

“No.” because he does not plan on letting you leave, not that it was clear by his words or façade. “When we first met you so said you taught from behind a curtain because men fell in love with you.”

“And you said you would be the exception.” You smile at the memory of it, and he gains confidence to voice this secret only you seem oblivious to.

“I lied. I have fallen for you…so I’m fucked.” He admits and wishes for the ground to swallow him.

Gods, this was fucking embarrassing.

“As crudely as you put it, we are both fucked.” The word sounds rather adorable when you say it. “I am afraid I have fallen for you too, my prince.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x braavosi!fem!reader