#and the river bands were always moving about

[lightsmortalenemy]

"Oh you can't say you're from Aberdeen, then they know where you live"

No one comes to Aberdeen. No one dares to. This is forsaken land, the hinterlands and wild west that Scotland abandoned. If someone willingly came to this city they would either be a monster or found floating in the pier by afternoon.

#even historically Aberdeen is just-- #on a different level #like we did not have a proper harbour for so long and ships would crash regularly on the sand banks #and the river bands were always moving about #sand dunes and swampy lochs and at one point a forest FULL OF BEARS AND WOLVES #literally called the hinterlands and barbarian north #we have a name for a specific sea fog called The Faa fer feck's sake #Skyrim is scared of us

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

#acotar imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel fluff #rhysand #cassian #azriel fic #lucien acotar #rhys acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris imagine #mor acotar #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #elain archeron

[waywardxrhea]

Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

You are working with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo to get intel on the Power Broker when the night takes an unexpected turn...

content warnings: minors DNI (18+) - smut (semi-public, oral - male receiving, fingering), PWP, jealousy, groping, drinking, language, name calling (slut - not by Bucky), some violence.

“You can come out now,” Helmut Zemo called to you through the bathroom door of his private jet you were currently holed up in after getting ready for an evening of espionage. 

“I feel weird…” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and you were getting ready for an intel gathering mission and this time it was your turn to gather intel. Why that meant you had to have your tits nearly falling out of the dress Zemo picked out, you didn’t know, but you were so close to getting the break you needed you would do nearly anything to get answers.

“Everyone feels weird at these things. The dresses are uncomfortable but when you’re somewhere looking at art you need to look like art yourself,” he told you. 

“Fine,” you sighed, giving yourself one more once over as the plane started to descend. 

On anyone else you would have said the dress was gorgeous. It flowed like a river when you walked, it was sparkly enough to be seen from space, and the combination of the low cut neckline and the slit in the leg was enough to make the devil himself blush. It just wasn’t you. Ever since you became an agent for SHIELD, the CIA, and now freelancing with this band of misfits, you’d grown accustomed to wearing pants and tactical gear and in your downtime it was leggings and chunky sweaters. Nothing even the slightest bit revealing.

So when you exited the bathroom you couldn’t help the blush that creeped up your neck as Sam gave a low whistle from where he stood in his steel blue pressed tux, saying, “Man you’re looking good!”

“Can it,” you told him, rolling your eyes and shoving your hands into the pockets of the dress. That part at least Zemo took your advice on when designing the dress which you guessed you were grateful for…

“I told you you’d look beautiful,” Zemo said. “A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a sarcastic smile, turning away and rolling your eyes. 

As you turned away, Bucky emerged into the main area of the plane, adjusting his tie and giving you a once over. “I think you’ve made him speechless,” Sam said teasingly, nudging Bucky in the ribs after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

Sam had always teased the two of you because he knew you liked Bucky but you’d just never made a move. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me, you’d always told yourself. Besides, he’s on those dating apps and all, so that’s proof he isn’t interested, not in you... 

“No time for puppy eyes, we’re here,” Zemo said as the plane touched down. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I go in first and blend in for a while. Admire the art, catch the attention of the target, chat him up for a bit. Once I get what we need on the Power Broker I’ll excuse myself to the restroom and we make a break for it.”

“Correct,” he told you with a nod. 

“The three of us will go in separately and pretend to look at the art while making sure things don’t go sideways,” Sam added. 

“Right again. What is the code word for if you become compromised?”

“Champagne,” you told him instantly. Now this was the stuff you were built for.

“Are we ready?” Zemo asked as the group approached the door to the jet.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, making your way to the door and carefully picking your way down the steps to head into the party. 

“Don’t strut or anything,” Sam told you teasingly as he watched you feign confidence on your way in. 

“Shut up, I don’t strut,” you snapped. 

“You do tend to strut when you’re in heels,” Zemo said. 

“Okay let’s not focus on my walk you guys!” you said before approaching the door to the art show. 

“Here, let me get that for you ma’am,” a suited man said, opening the door for you with a smile and a wink. 

You gave him a smug raise of your eyebrows in return as you walked through the door, narrowly missing the hand that was outstretched, no doubt trying to cop a feel. “I feel gross…” you mumbled as you walked further in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray nearby. 

While looking around, something caught your eye so you made my way to an art piece that you had only ever seen in textbooks. It was beautiful… A man slid up next to you to admire the piece as well, and casually asked, “You like it? It’s one of a kind.”

“It’s wonderful, I didn’t know this piece was even on the market!” you said, wonder in your eyes over the art in front of you.

“Maybe it could be yours if you give me something in exchange,” the man said suggestively, making you throw up a little in your mouth. 

You turned to see who the man was and saw that it was the target. Like some miracle he had walked up to you, but you weren’t about to take it for granted. So as much as it pained you to do it, you reached over to his arm and brushed your fingers over it and asked in your most innocently seductive voice, “And what may that be?”

“All right we’re all in, if this guy goes too far, say something and we’ll come get you,” Sam told you through the earpiece as he casually made his way over to the nearby bar. 

While he said this, you and the man made your way over to the VIP area where you two sat down on a couch and were served drinks of your choice. He glanced down at your breasts quickly before asking, “So what’s your name darlin? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You giggled and put on the charm as you walked two fingers up his chest, telling him, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would,” he replied, placing a hand on the bare portion of your thigh. He snaked his other arm around your back and rested his hand on your ass, pulling you close. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to attend these events alone.”

“Play your cards right and I could be your plus one from now on…” you told him, the corners of your lips turning up in a small smile. 

The next half hour felt like forever as you pushed for more drinks for your pleasant company and innocently sweet talked your way into the answers you needed. When you felt like you had enough intel to make our next move, you sweetly told him, “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the girls’ room. These drinks went right through me!”

“I’ll be here when you get back sweetheart,” he told you with a smile as you got up, grabbing your ass once more when you stood. 

As you turned the corner to make it seem convincing that you were actually looking for the restroom, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you toward them. You just about took them out before realizing that it was just Bucky. “What the hell, Buck?” you asked, taken aback. 

He put his finger to his ear, turning off his coms before whispering sharply, “Why’d you let him touch you like that?”

“W-what?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“We’re getting out of here, you two need to get out before we’re compromised,” Zemo told you over the coms. 

“Be there in a minute,” you told him before turning your own off, following Bucky’s actions. Getting back to his question, you said, “I did what I had to do to get answers. Why do you care?”

“Because no one should be touching you like that,” he replied, looking deep into your eyes. 

You laughed a bit before asking sarcastically, “Oh yeah because it should be you right?”

What happened next shocked you to the core. Because Bucky, the man who had stolen your heart, said, “Yes,” before crashing his lips down onto yours, pinning you against the wall hard. A million thoughts ran through your mind and your head spun as you tried to process what was happening all while sinking into his soft lips. 

“Bucky…” you whispered between kisses as he held you close. Never breaking the makeout session, he felt around for any door handle he could find before pulling you into whatever room it revealed. 

Once the pair of you were in the room, he hiked you up onto the counter before resting his forehead on yours, saying, “It killed me seeing that bastard touching you like that. I wanted it to be me.”

With your senses finally kicked in after the shock of the kiss, you shook your head and whispered, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because of how I look right now. If we were back at the hotel and I was in my leggings and sweater you’d just look the other way…”

“No,” he said as he looked deep into your eyes, pulling away and taking your hand in his. “This is something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I never had the courage to say it until now. I thought I could push away my feelings in order to not compromise our friendship and partnership but… I wanted to kill that guy for touching you like that.”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but nothing came out. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. When you got back to it, your hands wandered each other's bodies desperately, Bucky’s metal hand slipping under your dress to cup your breast and mess with your sensitive nipple. You gasped at the cool touch and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 

As you ran one hand through his hair, he slowly slid his right hand down to your thighs, not moving any further than there without permission. Not even caring how dirty it made you feel to do so, at the touch you spread your legs for him and pulled away for a moment to whisper, “Please touch me…”

“As you wish,” he whispered, taking no time at all to begin toying with your swollen clit. He nipped at your earlobe before mumbling, “God you’re so wet.”

“That’s because you drive me crazy,” you admitted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while gently pushing two fingers in and feeling around for that special spot inside. 

“Oh God yes,” you whimpered, your head rolling back as he found what he was looking for. No one had touched you like this in so long and it just felt so good and so…right with it being him. 

He added his thumb to the mix, rubbing your clit while his fingers worked their magic and you had to bite your knuckle to keep from screaming, it felt so good. Seeing your reaction, Bucky smirked and started kissing your neck, telling you between kisses, “I guess we shoulda talked about it because I’ve been dreaming of this for a while. First chance I get after tonight, I’m fuckin’ you into oblivion, doll.”

Those words were all it took to bring you impossibly closer to the edge. The idea of Bucky doing unspeakable things to you made everything that much better and you could feel yourself shaking as you approached your high. “Bucky…” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky stood there just admiring you as he picked up the pace of his fingers inside your sensitive cunt. He gave you a sideways smile before whispering, “God, just look at you. You’re so beautiful. Those little gasps and whimpers all for me? That’s enough to make me wanna go all night,” he said, making you even weaker in the knees. Your head rolled back and your breathing started to become uneven as he worked his magic inside, the pace somehow getting more vigorous the closer he brought you to release. The smirk was audible in his voice as he added, “Come on doll, I can tell you’re close, just cum for me.” 

And just like that with a few more strokes of his fingers you were experiencing the most intense orgasm you had in years. “Oh my God, fuck…” you moaned before he captured your lips on his own once more while you rode it out on his fingers which continued to pump in and out lazily as you clenched around them. 

“I think I can get used to that sound,” he told you with a smile once he pulled back from your kiss. 

You couldn’t help the school-girl-like giggle that escaped your lips before you got serious again, kissing him after jumping off the countertop. You spun the two of you around and pinned him to the counter this time, your fingers trailing their way down to his belt and messing with the buckle waiting for permission. “You don’t gotta do anything for me right now, the others are waiting. I’m sure they’re getting worried,” he told you.

“I think for once you need to put yourself before others,” you whispered, ghosting your fingers over the prominent tent in his slacks. 

He chuckled before giving in, saying, “Make it quick.”

“Oh trust me I can do that,” you told him with a wink before undoing his belt buckle and letting his slacks fall to his ankles. You toyed with the waistband of his underwear for a moment before pulling them down as you sank onto your knees in front of him. 

As you kissed the swollen tip of his penis he sucked in air through his teeth, telling you, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled and ran one finger on the underside of his cock, the vein pulsing beneath your touch, and that had him like putty in your hands and asking, “Please?”

With that final almost whimper of a please from the man standing above you, you took his impressive length in your mouth. You got as far back as you could before beginning to bob your head, his right hand gently resting in your hair to guide you while his left had a death grip on the counter behind him. 

When you hollowed out your cheeks, Bucky’s knees almost buckled and he tightened his grip on your hair. At this you pulled back and teased his head with your tongue before going back in. The way his breath hitched in his throat and the way he started moving his hips showed he was losing the restraint he had on himself meaning that he was close, so you used your hand to work what you couldn’t with your mouth and that’s exactly when he lost it. 

He had never felt anything like the feeling he was experiencing right now as he gently thrust his hips forward, relishing in the feeling of pure pleasure he was getting from your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell!” he groaned as he came to his high, his warm release filling your mouth while his grip on the counter tightened, his metal hand breaking the marble in the process. 

Coming back up to eye level with him after he finished, you smirked before telling him, “Quiet down Sergeant, you don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

“Oh next time you’ll be regretting that, doll,” he growled playfully before pulling his clothes back up while you fixed your makeup with what you brought in your pockets. As you fixed your hair too, he looked at you in the mirror and said, “Really though, that was nice. Something I’ve been wanting for a while.”

“Me too,” you replied, kissing him tenderly once you looked presentable again. 

After you and Bucky got yourselves calmed down from all the excitement you headed back out to the party so you could go back to the jet. As Bucky adjusted his belt while the pair of you exited the room, you noticed the man from earlier was standing down the hall talking with someone. He seemed to notice Bucky adjusting his belt and that goofy smile on his face so he rolled his eyes and shoved past you, muttering, “Slut.” 

“What did you just call her?” Bucky asked, sudden white hot rage filling his whole body. 

“I called her what she is, a slut!” the man spat loudly.

 And that was all it took for Bucky to wind back and punch the man in the face, taking care to use his metal arm to do so. Once the man was on the ground, Bucky took the man’s collar in his hand, yanking him up and growling, “Don’t you ever talk about a woman like that again. Got it?” 

“Got it!” the man whimpered as Bucky threw him back down on the ground. 

With that settled, you two left the party and got back to the jet, walking hand in hand. Sam took one look at you and told Zemo, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“We don’t know that!” Zemo retorted defensively. 

“Oh don’t we now?” Sam asked with a laugh. He turned his attention to the pair of you and asked, “Did you or did you not go MIA so you could have sex?”

“I- What- We-” you tried to say, stumbling over your words as your face heated up. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled before saying, “Whichever one bet that we had sex lost.”

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously. 

“But did you at least do something?” Sam asked, fishing in his wallet for a twenty. 

“That’s for us to know and you to not find out,” Bucky replied, kissing your knuckles before leading you to a seat on the plane where you could rest your feet for the flight. As you sat down and relaxed into Bucky’s strong embrace, you had a feeling that tonight was the first of many pleasurable nights to come. 

a/n: so this is my first one shot on tumblr! I wrote this one night when I just couldn't get Bucky out of my head, I hope y'all enjoy!

and if you don't follow me or know my account, feel free to check out my Steve Rogers long fic here!

#bucky barnes x reader #smut #marvel #bucky barnes #oneshot

[pupyr0arz]

falling in love with MacTavish was definitely not one of your finer moments. The man was, politely putting it, a player. He practically was the scene around school, always the talk of going down on a girl behind the bleachers or getting caught with one in a closet, never having anyone on his arm during the day with his pick of the litter at night. It would’ve been better if it stayed like that, a harmless fixation on an unobtainable straight boy. Pining wasn’t fun but it was predictable. Unlike MacTavish.

it was your friend who outed you to him. The breach of trust had almost severed your speaking relationship with him, and what was left wilted and died before he could spread any gossip about MacTavish actually taking you up on it. You were sure anyone would’ve practically fainted if they heard MacTavish was gay, or curious or anything like that, you nearly did yourself. was definitely a dick move, but MacTavish was blond, jock-y, and again an insatiable horndog, not exactly screaming available.

He never ‘came out’, not to anyone, not to you. You’d thought about discussing the whole sexuality business a total of twice before shelving it indefinitely. Bi, really closeted gay, or maybe he was a straight guy who just really couldn’t say no to sex. It wasn’t a relationship, really just a string of encounters, tugged into rooms or staring at each other in the hall. Sex was clumsy and rushed, you barely had sex ed for fucking girls, but embarrassingly enough, you studied up for him. Was he your first boyfriend? Maybe he counted.

it ended as fast as it started. He ignored you entirely out of the blue, icing you out of the few times you ran across each other. You tried to start casual conversation, but the second flat stare in lieu of a response has you retreating with your tail between your legs and trying to avoid MacTavish’s friends. Not exactly a smooth ride, but you moved on pretty quick yourself, the little fling you had eclipsed by other, better experiences. You grow up, he does too.

It was definitely weird seeing him as an adult. Grindr had done it’s weird algorithm magic and delivered you a shirtless photo of Johnny himself, all grown up. Definitely more filled, the man looked like he could bench press a bull, a far cry from the pretty lanky kid you remember. Military, he lists, and that makes sense. He always seemed the type to you, and he definitely looks the part. It’s weird thinking of him killing and fighting when your memories of him include the time he nearly choked you on his dick in the gym teacher’s shed, and how he spent all of art class making more elaborate ways to throw rubber bands at Rivers’ head. it’s also a little weird thinking of him on Grindr, but hey, guess he had some character development.

You consider it for a minute, and then half on an unconscious dare to test your resolve, swipe right. The odds of him accepting, and the odds of meeting, with the odds of him recognizing you? You’re practically asking for a unicorn. You shut off your phone, pocket it, and you don’t think about it until it’s ten twenty five pm, and you get a notification

#.bark #cod #soap #cod x reader #notsafeforworkers #Soap x reader #soap x male reader #cod x male reader #male reader #Snippet #very generic but whatever okay?

[utahimeow]

the day that satoru proposes to you is the same day that satoru marries you.

he asks you to be his wife in the morning, and by the afternoon he takes you to the city hall where you fill out the papers together, then an hour later it’s official—you’re bound together as husband and wife.

from the day he was born, gojo’s wedding had always been anticipated as a grand affair. sorcerers from far and wide were to gather and witness the expansion of the gojo clan. it would be a several-day long event, one planned intricately by the higher-ups with no room for the bride and groom themselves to have a say in any aspect.

which is precisely why satoru, ever so spiteful of the higher-ups, says “hey, wanna elope?” you’re practically married anyway, and have been for as long as you can remember. his love for you has never wavered—only he went from wanting to move the moon for you to now wanting to move the entire universe for you.

your “wedding dress” is a satin white minidress that makes you look like you’re going to a fancy brunch, not to your own marriage. satoru’s in a pressed white shirt and slacks. to anyone else you’re no more than a young couple going for a date; hands clasped together as you roam down the street, identical glimmering gazes when you stare at one another.

your husband suddenly drags you into a jeweller as you pass by it. he hadn’t bought you an engagement ring, let alone wedding bands, so he lets you pick out a pair of silver rings: diamond studded for you and a far simpler one for him. you can hardly take your eyes off it once it’s on; a perpetual reminder of your commitment to gojo satoru.

the wedding reception takes place in a sushi go. you and satoru order far too much food between you, but it’s okay, you’ll just get it to go and have it for lunch tomorrow. you feed the pieces of a fish into satoru’s mouth the same way you did on one of your first dates with him, but now when you look at him and at the spot of soy sauce at the corner of his lips, you see the man you’re spending the rest of your life with.

satoru takes you to a park afterwards. he carries two bags of leftover sushi in his hands, but still he manages to intertwine his fingers with yours. the sun is still high in the sky, with only some splotches of cloud here and there. you find a spot under a cherry blossom by the river that runs through the park and settle there, you between satoru’s legs, nestled into his chest.

everything about the day is ordinary. birds sing their songs. kids run about in fits of giggles. people will start coming home from work soon. you and satoru are married now and it was so ordinary. no extravagant celebrations, no family, friends, or colleagues to witness it. just you and your lover.

with a content sigh, you wonder out loud. “how should we tell people?”

he smiles, far too rapt by the bliss of having his wife in his arms to bring himself to think. “let them figure it out.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagine #꒰ lovers. ꒱ — gojo

[natalievoncatte]

Nothing has ever hit Lena like this.

She’s been abducted by aliens. She was almost shotgun married to an alien. Her ex was eaten by nanobots in front of her. She’s been tried to a chair while her brother tried to murder the world’s most beloved hero, and nearly vaporized by a man with a radioactive chunk of another planet for a heart.

Not to mention the mundane stuff. The L-Corp logo in the lobby almost crushing her. Bombs, bullets, blades, being thrown off a balcony, thrown off a roof, left to die in a plane crash.

Almost killed when her brother sent drones to shoot down her helicopter and a golden vision of inhuman beauty came from the sky to save her life.

Of course, that golden vision had tarnished, turned brass. She could be bossy, sanctimonious, paranoid, prone to snapping at Lena one moment… then making her knees weak the next.

Because sometimes, Supergirl wasn’t bossy, sanctimonious, or paranoid. Sometimes she was all dashing grace, with a profoundly frustrating tendency to scoop Lena into her arms and carry her there with surpassing tenderness, as though she were the most precious treasure the alien had ever seen.

Poor Lena’s heart had suffered terribly through all that, yet never skipped a beat.

It skipped now.

Kara looked up from her burger, apropos of nothing. Or, that’s what Lena would have thought a moment ago, before she recognized that scar.

The world spun crazily. Lena grasped the sides of her seat for dear life while alarms and sirens blared in every direction. Smoke coughed noisily from the remains of the turbines that had powered her chopper’s rotor blades. As the world seemed to grow weightless, Lena finally accepted what was happening- the chopper was going to crash. She was going to die.

And then there was a wind.

No, not a wind. A blur of motion, a red and blue streak cutting through the brilliant afternoon light and then a stomach-churning lurch as the falling aircraft just stopped, gently floating to a safe landing on the roof.

With a squeak of tearing metal, she was there. A goddess in primary colors, soft waves of golden hair framing her devastatingly lovely face as she checked the pilot and then turned those arresting blue eyes to Lena and then asked-

“Are you okay? Lena?”

With trembling hands, Lena reached up. Kara froze, a thousand emotions flashing on her face, fear flickering in the oceans of her eyes. They both paused, testing the moment. This was it. They had their choices: Lena could stop, make some excuse. Kara could flinch and offer some gee golly shucks reason to move out of reach and dissemble her way out of it. They could decide not to do this.

Lena did not stop, and Kara did not move. The frames of Kara’s glasses were surprisingly heavy in her grasp as she softly tugged them free and set them aside. Lena raises a hand to Kara’s cheek, ever hesitant quiver of her palm a question. She closed the gap between them on the couch and brought her other arm back up, circling Kara in something that was somehow more intimate than a hug. He best friend sat stone still as Lena worked loose the band that held her hair.

Golden locks spilled about her shoulders, and Lena gasped. She caressed her hand up Kara’s shockingly soft cheek and touched the scar lightly with her thumb.

Lena felt the tears trembling in her own eyes as Kara’s welled with her own. The moment had come; the river was crossed, the decision made.

And yet in this moment there was another one, at once simpler and more profound. Lena’s lip trembled. Anger welled in her chest, burning hot and bright.

It’s not a great question for a Luthor to ask someone in my family.

It twisted in her like venom, burning at her insides, trying to eat through her from the inside out. The fury rose until she thought she’d be sick, and then…

Kara Danvers believes in you.

Take me instead!

I can’t hold both! You have to jump!

I will always protect you.

“It’s you,” Lena whispered. “It’s always been you.”

Before she knew what was happening, Kara drew her forward with surpassing tenderness. Hands that could crack marble gently guided Lena’s weight into Kara’s lap. What had not been meant as an embrace became one, and Lena made her choice.

It was her.

It had always been her.

Noticing small details about them (physically)

#Supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #Lena Luthor figures out Supergirl’s identity #seriously she flew here on a bus? #Kara Danvers loves Lena Luthor #Supercorp from a prompt

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

"this is so wrong," "if so, then stop me, love," "you tempt me, [name]-" cue a KISSSSS "-and you drive me insane." + flirty banter for bodhi maybe ?

You’re like a drug

All of his smirks and winks were always reserved for you. It only took for you to enter the room for Bodhi’s m scowl to turn upside down and you would have a grinning bobcat following your every move. The thing was you felt the attraction too. At first, you thought it was simply because both of your dragons were close in their kin but it ran deeper than that.

And you were good at keeping him at arm's length until you all had gotten slightly too tipsy by the river band. You knew it was asking for trouble the moment the idea itself bloomed. But you all had been working so hard in making progress with the revolution that it would be a shame to not celebrate it at least in some way.

“Last one to the river goes in naked”, Garrick chuckled as he took off running. Imogen let out a huff as she tried to grab his shirt to yank him backward but with no luck. “You can’t start running and then say what it’s for”, she grumbled hurrying after him. You let out a chuckle, stepping over the branch and ready to take off yourself but a hand stopped you, turning you backward.

“What the hell”, you muttered, right as your back hit the tree. “Shh…”, you didn’t need to see him. Even the slightest shine of the moonlight whispered enough of his shadow. “What are you…”, your words died down as a warm whisper of lips trailed down your neck. Your hands moved to reach for him in a heartbeat. Tensed muscles melting into a puddle.

Bodhi’s heart was drumming so loudly that he barely could hear your whispers. Liquid courage was giving him one hell of a kickoff. Nudging your hips he motioned for you to jump up into his embrace and within seconds your legs were wrapped around his torso. “What the fuck”, you breathed out breathlessly, as Bodhi moved to nibble on your neck. “You looked too good”, he muttered, “I couldn’t”, he sighed, “Couldn’t hold back any longer”.

Your own heart picked up the beats as if it already wasn’t working overtime. “You don’t mean it. It’s a game for you”, you grunted, truly to push him away. Now with a moment to catch your breath, your sensible mind had returned. Flashes of other, countless females drooling over Bodhi filled your mind. “Don’t you have a Margarita or some other bitch to run to”, you pushed back but Bodhi only pulled you closer. “Are you jealous, baby?”, he mussed, brushing his finger over your cheek. You turned your head to the side, earning a chuckle.

“I like seeing you like this”, Bodhi breathed, “Why don’t you claim me, it would save you the eye rolls”, his words were barely a whisper against your skin. “Fuck you”, you hissed, dragging your palms down his chest. “Oh, funny you mentioned that, cause I’ve been trying to do that”, he purred making you huff, “You’re so annoying”, “Your body seems to disagree”, and it truly was that, because while your brain tried to fight him, your hands seemed to want nothing but to undress him.

“This shouldn’t… We shouldn’t”, you muttered breathlessly as Bodhi captured your lips in a kiss once more. “Then tell me to stop”, he said before biting your lip playfully, “Make me stop, baby”, for the first time since he pulled you aside his hands loosened around you. Giving you more than enough space to pull away. To stop this. To get going. Because there was already so much going on. Graduations. Ne cadets. Revolution. Mixing a relationship into all of this?

Yet something about the lack of Bodhi’s warmth against you. The loss of the feeling of his heart beating right against you was wrong. Your hand recharged up for his, pulling it up right where it had sat right under your bum for support. Bodhi let out a chuckle, “That’s what I thought”, his face was as bright as the stars up in the sky. Shining brightly. “Wipe that grin off your face and kiss me”, you dragged him closer by the collar, crashing your lips against his with a messy kiss. Neither is willing to give up dominance yet. “You’re like a fucking drug..”, Bodhi pulled back panting, “It’s your lucky night, 'cause you might get another fix”, you muttered smirking right up at him.

#bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran imagine #bodhi durran x oc #bodhi durran x you #bodhi durran iron flame #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #iron flame x reader #iron flame imagine

[sapphire-writes]

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) 2

previous ~ next ~ series masterlist

pairings: modern!Aegon x reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Aegon and you are just not working out. He disappears and you need a night out with your girls. Drama ensues of course, its never that easy with the band.

warnings: language, drinking, cheating, general sensual themes

word count: 4.9k

note: thanks for all the lovely comments I really hope you enjoy this part there were several moments i literally cackled writing 🤭💚

masterlist

You wake up to a stream of sunlight warming your face, while you lay in Aegon’s bed. Your bed. But Aegon’s bed. The bed you mostly share, if you’re not fighting. You groan looking at the clock. 

7:06 AM. Shit.

You feel as though you just arrived home, Aemond and you had to cart Aegon up the stairs. Luckily he only puked once before you were able to wrestle him into bed. He giggled the entire time, attempting to bite Aemond. Aegon’s a handsy drunk, he nearly ripped your shirt to expose your boobs not caring that his brother was still in the room. It wasn’t until around 4 am did you finally find sleep. 

You looked to Aegon, who was still deep in sleep beside you. As you sat up in bed you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You could hear movement from the kitchen and knew Aemond must be up. Unlike his brother, Aemond is an early riser, no matter when he turns in for the night. 

You peel yourself from Aegon’s body, rising from bed and stretching. You check yourself in the mirror before leaving the room, making sure you’re somewhat decent. Running your fingers through your hair, you attempt to unknot the mess that’s left from a night out. Thankfully, you remembered to remove your makeup before bed in your tipsy state, your skin has definitely thanked you. 

You close the door behind you as you leave, not bothering to be gentle. Aegon could sleep through gunfire. As you head towards the kitchen you see Aemond’s tall frame moving about the small space, long silver hair rippling behind him like water. 

“That smells good,” you say, snatching a piece of toast from the toaster and walking towards the coffee maker. Aemond doesn’t turn his head at the sound of your voice, continuing to silently cook his eggs on the stove.

“And not yours,” he says, voice still rough from sleep. You shrug taking a bite as you grab a mug and pour yourself a cup of coffee. You prepare it the way you like, before taking a sip, relishing the feeling of warmth that floods through you. 

Aemond’s phone chirps from the counter. 

You place your coffee mug down before hoisting yourself atop it to sit. Aegon often chuckles when he finds you in this position. You’re rarely seated in a chair, always on an elevated surface of some kind. 

The phone buzzes again. 

You raise a brow as Aemond ignores it, continuing to cook. You both continue to exist in comfortable silence as you conduct your morning routines. Though you’re not close with Aemond, Aegon often does not rise until well into the afternoon. It’s never enough sleep though, as he usually doesn’t find dreams until the sun begins to peak over the horizon. Aegon walks around with dark circles under his eyes on most days. 

Aemond’s phone emits a sharp tune, vibrating obnoxiously on the counter as someone calls him. You watch the phone buzz, but it's face down omitting who desperately wants his attention. 

“Someone’s popular,” you say, glancing at the clock on the stove. 

Aemond turns, long fingers stretching to grab his phone. He silences it before pocketing it. 

“Alys,” he says, using the spatula to move the eggs from his pan to his plate. You lift a brow at him. So he’s seeing her again. 

“Rivers?” you clarify and he nods, a slight smirk on his face. You swing your legs back and forth taking another sip of coffee. You can’t help your curiosity. 

“It’s a little early for a booty call,” you tell him, and he grabs the second piece of toast from the toaster and places it on top of his eggs. He only responds with a hum, low in the back of his throat.

“Isn’t she a mother?” you ask him, remembering her age. You had only met Alys a handful of times, she wasn’t very friendly nor did she like to hang out with the other members of the group. When Aemond was with her, they often disappeared. 

“Not in the traditional sense,” Aemond answers, causing your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. 

“Okay…whatever that means,” you say, earning a small chuckle from him. A rarity. 

“What’s a MILF want with you?” you question, head tilting to the side. Aemond moves to walk past you, but stops in front of you. It’s hard to choose a place to look when you’re face-to-face with Aemond. That in itself was a rarity, Aemond was significantly taller than you. But sitting on the counter, you were able to meet his eyes; violet and blue, a lazy smirk across his face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, before plucking the remainder of toast from your hand and adding it to his plate. He moves by you, legs brushing yours to go sit at the small table. You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment, before scrunching your nose.

“Ew,” you say, hopping down from the counter hoping he doesn’t notice the blush that paints your cheeks, “I’m showering.”

“Don’t use all the hot water,” he snaps, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. 

When you finish showering, Aemond is gone. Probably off to the gym. He spends hours at a time training. You return to Aegon’s room to get dressed, towel wrapped around you. He is sprawled out on the bed, still deep in sleep. 

“Aeg,” you call, as you pull on a lace bra and matching underwear. He groans but doesn’t open his eyes. You tug on a pair of jeans, hopping in the air to assist you in getting them on.  

“I gotta go to work,” you tell him, pulling a tank top over your head. Aegon groans again and you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t forget, you have rehearsal later,” you tell him, flicking the ring that hangs from his right nipple, “Jace will literally kill you if you’re late again.”

Aegon moans louder this time, eyes opening into slits as he looks at you. He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip before turning over.  

“Come to bed,” he murmurs, reaching toward you. 

“I told you, I can’t,” you tell him, annoyed, moving off the bed and away from his grabbing hands, “I have work.”

“You’re so cruel,” he mumbles, falling back into sleep, and turning away from you onto his stomach. You put your hands on your hips.

“You only want me when you can’t have me,” you snap at him. It’s a painful blow to throw at him this early, but you’re still bitter from last night. Aegon doesn’t respond, breathing deeply. You feel tears welling in your eyes, and you angrily wipe them away. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” you tell his sleeping form, “I am.”

Aegon snores in response. 

You work part-time, picking up shifts when you can at your favorite local coffee shop, Stepstones. You worked there full-time while at university, but as the band grew and you officially entered the groupie lifestyle you had to cut back.

Rhaena is opening when you arrive. She smiles at you from behind the counter as the bell alerts her of your arrival. 

“Figured you’d be late,” she teases, tossing you a work shirt, “long night and all.”

You throw the shirt over your tank top groaning as you do so. Your limbs are tired and heavy from the weight of the previous night. Little sleep didn’t help. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you tell her, but a smile is on your face. You glance around at the empty shop.

“Just us?” 

Rhaena nods.

“Uh-huh,” she says, slouching over the counter until her head rests on top of it. The cafe is owned by Rhaena and Baela’s grandparents and is a local treasure. 

“Aegon and I broke up,” you tell Rhaena, who raises her eyebrows. 

“Does Aegon know?” she asks and you sigh.

“No he was asleep,” you tell her, earning a stifled laugh. Rhaena shakes her head. 

“Oh Y/N,” she says, and the way she says it makes your heart hurt. Rhaena has such a gentle way about her, much like Helaena. 

“Yeah,” you say, to fill the silence. 

“Let’s go out tonight,” Rhaena says, as the door chimes signaling a customer. 

“Ugh, I don’t know Rhae,” you tell her, already feeling the exhaustion creeping up on you. 

“Pleeeeasee,” Rhaena begs, pouting her lip and making the most adorable face at you. How can you deny that face?

“It will be fun, I promise,” she links her fingers together, “I’ll make you your absolute favorite drink in the whole world if you say yes.”

You nod, giving in, before plastering a customer service grin on your face. 

“Where’s Aegon?” Helaena asks when you arrive at the studio. You and Rhaena are supposed to be the last to arrive, but as you enter you realize this is not the case. Baela sits with Jace on the couch, tawny legs stretched across his lap. You frown. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, reaching for your phone, “I was at work.”

“Shit,” Jace says, running a hand through his brown hair. Aemond sits on the stage, bass slung across his back. Luke groans at your response, throwing his head back, earning a look of annoyance from Aemond. 

“Fucking perfect,” Aemond says, glaring at you. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“He’s your brother,” you quip back, causing Aemond to sneer.

“I’m not his keeper.”

“Neither am I.”

Jace walks to stand between you, even though there is a considerable distance between Aemond and you. He knows how quickly things can turn. Jace had to carry you from the room once when Aemond had said something a little too cruel to Luke, causing you to immediately come to his defense. 

“What are you going to do about it princess?,” he called, with a sadistic glint in his eye. 

Aemond had taunted you the entire time as you thrashed against Jace’s grip as he carried you from the room over his shoulder. It must be something about Targaryen men that makes your blood boil. 

Jace gives you a hesitant look, holding his arms in front of him. Always the peacemaker, Jacaerys Velaryon. You raise an eyebrow at him. Aemond cracks his knuckles. 

“Do you have any idea where he could be?” Jace asks and you shrug. 

“Last time I saw him he was in bed,” you tell him, “but that was hours ago, I was working all day.” 

Helaena twirls in a circle on the stage, the long sleeves of her shirt flowing behind her. She tilts her head to the ceiling, lost in thought. Luke watches her, lips parted as though entranced by her silent dance. 

“He needs to be here tomorrow,” Jace says, nervously pacing, “we’re meeting with Otto about the album.”

You wave Jace’s concern off. Aegon will show up by then. He always does. 

“There’s no gig tonight, right?” you ask.

“No, but that doesn’t mean he can miss rehearsals,” Aemond snaps, eyes meeting yours once more. 

“Dude, can you chill for one second?” Luke asks, and you watch Aemond’s jaw tighten at his words. Helaena stops her dance, coming to sit next to her brother. She rests a hand to his shoulder. 

“I wanted to work on the lyrics to that new song anyway,” Helaena says, “remember the one I was working on? The Queen Who Never Was?”

The tension in the room is palpable, but Helaena continues despite it. 

“It’s going to be a beautiful piece,” she says smiling, “a really narrative-driven song.” She squeezes Aemond’s shoulder. 

“Edit it for me?” she asks, jutting her chin towards the couches. Aemond responds with a hum, and Helaena clasps him on the shoulder before the siblings rise from the stage. 

“You’ll still come out later right?” Baela asks from the couch, as Aemond and Helaena take a seat across from the couple. 

“I should probably go home and see if Aegon shows up,” you tell her, causing her to frown. She shakes her head, curls bouncing, rising from her seat. 

“Come home, you’re real home,” Baela says, grabbing your arm, “Aegon will show up later, come get ready with us to go out and just have a good night. A girls' night.”

“Hey! We’re coming too,” Luke calls, holding his arms out, taking offense. 

“Yeah but still, it’ll be fun,” Baela says, giving you puppy dog eyes. Rhaena sits on the couch opposite Helaena and Aemond. 

“You gonna come?” Rhaena asks. Her voice is hopeful. Aemond doesn’t look up from the pages he reads of Helaena’s scribbled lyrics. 

“Maybe,” he answers, causing you to sigh and roll your eyes. Only then does he look up, head turning to face you. 

“What about this line?” Helaena murmurs, recapturing his attention. 

Baela continues to beg, and you finally agree. 

You’re feeling petty tonight, settling on an outfit that shows an inviting amount of skin; leaving little to the imagination. You feel confident as you fix your hair, allowing Rhaena to apply your eyeliner in the style she says gives you ‘bedroom eyes.’ She bites her lip in concentration, her hand never wavering. 

“And use this,” Baela says, digging through her makeup bag and tossing you a tube of lipgloss. 

“Is lipgloss back in?” Rhaena asks, causing Baela to raise a brow at her. 

“Was it ever out?” 

You release a breathy laugh, attempting to keep your face still so as to not mess up Rhaena’s hard work. 

“Damn,” Baela says, dragging out the word as she looks at your finished look. 

“Aegon better show up tonight,” Rhaena says, appreciating her work, “or someone’s going to steal you away.”

“Shut up,” you say, standing and going over to the mirror. You do look amazing. The outfit you chose has been sitting in the back of your closet since your early days trailing after the band. It accentuates your boobs, your butt, your thighs. You put the lipgloss on, puckering your lips. 

“Seriously, you look hot as hell Y/N,” Baela says, eyes wide, “I’m leaving Jace for you.”

You throw the tube of lipgloss at her, causing her to shriek. You feel a sudden pain in your heart at the compliments. Yeah, you are a catch. Aegon should be worried about you going out without him. But he doesn’t care at all. And that hurts. Not that you’re looking for a crazy possessive boyfriend, but a little old fashioned jealousy wouldn’t hurt. 

“Jace would allow it!” Baela shrugged. Rhaena nods in agreement. 

“We all look hot,”you confirm. Rhaena clicks her tongue, swinging her dreads over her shoulder. Balea fluffs up her curls, before adding a finishing touch to her lips. 

The Red Keep is vibrating with energy when you arrive. The club is massive, with two levels, and the walls are lined with red leather couches. Raised dancing poles are scattered throughout the room, some people have begun to climb on them with their friends, swinging on the poles as amateur dancers. You head toward the bar to grab drinks. 

“When are the boys coming?” you ask Rhaena, as Baela grabs the bartender’s attention. 

The poor guy’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of Baela and Rhaena, the fierce beauties they are. The drinks spill as his hands shake. 

“I texted Aemond, no answer of course,” Rhaena said, rolling her eyes, “but Luke said he and Jace were a couple of minutes behind us.”

“Typical,” you said, as Baela handed you the drink she ordered. Vodka cranberry. Classic. 

You wondered if Aemond would show up at all. He was probably so pissed at Aegon, just waiting at the apartment for him to come home so he could kill him. Not that he actually would, but you know. You take a sip from your drink, taking in the energy of the club, bobbing your head to the music. 

“Oh. My. God.”

Rhaena’s mouth has dropped open, eyes toward the door. Baela and you lock eyes, both with confused looks on your faces, before following her line of sight. 

Oh fuck. 

So Aemond did decide to show up. Dressed in a black button down, open at the top revealing the smooth skin of his chest, the dangling of a silver coin hung on a chain around his neck. He wears his hair completely down, flowing across his shoulders. But that’s not what made Rhaena’s mouth drop open, or  caused Baela’s flabbergasted expression, or the parting of your own lips. It’s who’s on his arm.

Alys Rivers. The mysterious recurring plaything in Aemond Targaryen’s life. Seemingly, the only woman who can pull him. She’s annoyingly pretty, with dark hair that matches her dark eyes. They almost appear to have flames dancing in them when the lights reflect on them. She’s wearing a low cut dress, a deep forest green showing off her assets. 

You know she’s older, in her mid-forties or something, and she still looks like a goddess. Her lips are red as blood and she smiles, showing a row of pearly white teeth. 

“Didn’t realize he’s seeing her again,” Baela said, taking a sip from her drink. Rhaena looks away, flustered from their entrance. 

You watch as Aemond leads Alys to the opposite side of the bar, holding onto her hand. Rhaena brings a hand to her face, fiddling with her lips as though adjusting her lipstick.  

“You know I heard she’s a witch,” you tell Rhaena, “she probably did some spell to make Aemond obsessed with her.”

Rhaena smiles at that, though you know it's not true. Well, you have heard that Alys is a practicing Wiccan, but from your earlier interaction with Aemond, it seems that Alys is the one obsessed with him. 

“Aemond must eat pussy like a champ,” Baela says, matter of factly. 

“Bae!” Rhaena says, turning beet red. You laugh uncomfortably, a nervous smile on your lips feeling your face begin to flush. Baela only frowns and shrugs her shoulders, as if she hasn’t just said the most pornographic sentence of the evening.

“What?” she says, looking between you and Rhaena, “Oh come on! You think Alys is with him for his sparkling personality?”

You glance back at the couple, watching Alys gain the attention of the bartender. Aemond leans behind her, before glancing in your direction. You quickly turn around, hoping he did not see you. 

“I’m gonna look for Helaena,” you tell the twins, nodding towards the dance floor. Helaena is always in the mood to dance, it’s often hard to get her to leave a club.  

Packed with people, you push your way through the crowd toward the dance floor, eyes hunting for Helaena. 

You spot silver curls and reach out to grab her shoulder. Much to your surprise, Laena Velaryon turns around, the second girlfriend of Daemon Targaryen. Well, only girlfriend, but everyone knows Daemon is screwing Rhaenyra. Not that Laena seems to mind, the two seem to enjoy each other’s company. A throuple then? You’re not sure, you find it dizzying trying to keep up with Daemon’s relationships. 

“Y/N!” she says, throwing her arms around you. 

“Laena! Hi!” you say, unable to hide your surprise. 

“Ohmygod I did not expect to see you!” she says, looking behind you, “are the twins here?”

“Yeah, they’re at the bar.”

“I’ll have to say hi,” she says, continuing to talk, “oh my god you’ll never believe it, Rhaenyra is meeting with the label Iron Throne tomorrow! They’re offering her a deal or something.”

Your heart quickens. Rhaenyra was racing against the band for the rights to her song. 

“Wow, that is amazing!” you tell her and she smiles again. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” she says, pushing further into the crowd.

“Yeah totally!” you say, though you don’t expect to see her again. Just wait until Baela and Rhaena hear that she’s here. 

You continue to search for Helaena but decide she must have not started dancing yet. You decide to head back to the bar to see if Jace and Luke have arrived. You walk around the edge of the club, near people who sit on the red leather couches. You spot a familiar face and turn quickly, nearly losing your balance with the heels you are wearing. Damn Baela for making you wear these impractical stilettos. 

“Y/N,” Daemon calls from his spot on the couch. You should’ve known if Laena was here, Daemon would be too. He licks his lips as you approach him, eyes shamelessly caressing your body. He’s wearing a dark maroon silk shirt, the color of blood. Several rings adorn his fingers, catching in the light. 

“Daemon,” you greet him, giving him a polite smile. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he said, motioning for you to sit. You continue standing, causing his mouth to shrug. You glance around, looking for your friends. You spot Helaena’s silver head on the dance floor, hands in the air as she loses herself in the music. 

“Where’s Rhaenyra?” you ask, bringing your eyes back to him. Daemon smiles.

“Resting,” he answers, finishing the dregs of his drink, “she’s got a big day tomorrow.”

“So I hear.”

“I hear Dracarys is making moves as well,” he says, mischief in his eyes, “recording an album?”

You let your eyebrows rise and fall, appearing uninterested in the conversation. You look to your left, eyes catching Aemond’s, as he leans against the bar. Alys is with him still, her hand snaked around his slender waist. She’s whispering something to him, as he stares back at you. 

“Something like that,” you answer, as Daemon leans forward. He holds his empty glass out to you. You tear your eyes from Aemond and Alys and take the glass from him, placing it on a high rise behind you for someone to discard. 

Daemon doesn’t lean back, he instead brings his hand to trace up your bare calf leaving a trail of fire behind. His fingers lazily dance a path up to the back of your thigh, before he applies pressure, pulling you towards him. 

“You still seeing Aegon?” he asks, looking up at you through his silver lashes as you now stand between his thighs. He is much older than you. Not that it matters, you’re both adults. Hell, if Aemond can be with someone like Alys Rivers you could certainly bag Daemon Targaryen. 

“Something like that,” you repeat, and Daemon nods, hand coming to the side of your thigh, thumb rubbing circles against it. 

You raise an eyebrow at his bold actions. Daemon is nothing if not bold. And you can’t deny he’s attractive. All Targaryens seem to be. 

“Two girlfriends not cutting it?” you remark.

“All good things come in threes,” he murmurs, continuing his caresses, “how bout you grab me another drink?”

“Your legs broken?” you quip, looking towards the bar. Aemond and Alys have vanished. 

“Feisty as ever I see,” he says, smirking. You’ve had enough of him for tonight, bringing your hand to brush him off of your thigh. 

“Fuck off,” you tell him, and he holds his hands up in surrender. Daemon leans back, lacing his fingers together before letting them rest behind his head. 

“Another time then,” he says as you move away from him, heading towards the dance floor. 

Rhaena joins you as well. 

“Where’s Baela?” you ask, yelling above the music. 

She points to the couch, the opposite side of the room from where Daemon sits. Baela is straddling Jace, deep in a makeout session. Damn.

“Everyone’s having fun I guess,” Rhaena says, motioning to another area of the couch. Your eyes follow and spot Aemond and Alys again. Alys is lost in conversation with someone seated on the floor next to her, as she sits between Aemond’s legs, head resting on his thigh. You look up at him. 

He’s watching you again.

You wonder if he ever took his eye off of you, even when you couldn’t see him. Aemond takes a sip from his glass, eye locked on yours, peering over the rim of the glass. 

You turn back to Rhaena. Her mouth is twisted in disappointment. You begin to smirk.

“C’mon,” you say, grabbing her hand, “let’s show him what he’s missing out on.”

Rhaena’s eyes light up as you lead her toward one of the empty raised platforms. You hoist yourself up before offering her your hand, helping her on the stage. You place your hand on the slick metal pole.

“Y/N,” Rhaena says, giggling nervously. You glance to where Aemond was seated. His eye follows you. You slide your hand up the pole, curling around it before wiggling your hips as you slide down. Rhaena joins you, laughing while she does, mimicking the movement of your hips. 

You continue to dance, all the while making sure Aemond is watching. His gaze never falters. In fact, his lips appear to part as he continues to stare.

You turn around, hand above your head as you press your ass against the pole, before sliding down. You watch as Aemond’s head tilts to the side, a curious expression on his face. Your breathing is becoming erratic, and blood pounding in your ears. 

You hear a howl from below you and break your gaze from Aemond’s. Luke has joined, his eyes wide, a grin stretching across his face. His eyes are locked on Rhaena, pupils are blown as he watches her. He raises his drink to you both, as he continues dancing. Baela and Jace have joined as well, cheering you on. 

You reach down to Luke, pulling him on the stage as you resume standing. He grabs the pole and begins to dance around it, causing Rhaena to shriek with laughter. Jace hoists himself up as well, bringing Baela with him and suddenly you’re all crushed against each other in a giggling dancing mess. 

You hop down away from your friends, nearly twisting your ankle. A pair of hands steady you. You look up into a pair of warm brown eyes. The man smiles, quickly allowing himself a glance at your body, before returning his gaze to your face.

“Looked like you needed a hand,” he says, a lopsided grin stretching across his face. 

“Thanks,” you say, returning his smile.

“I’m Cregan.”

“Y/N.”

Cregan runs a hand through his hair, a similar shade of brown. Oh he is cute. 

“Buy you a drink?”

“She’s taken.”

You hadn’t even noticed Aemond make his way over to you, arm slung over Aly’s shoulders. You feel your cheeks heat with anger at the half smirk on Aemond’s face. Cregan assesses Aemond with confusion, noting his arm that remains on Alys. 

“I’m not-”

“That’s my brother’s girl you’re talking to,” Aemond says, cutting you off. Your jaw clenches. Cregan looks at you, takes in your expression. 

“We broke up,” you tell Cregan, half meaning it. Aemond scoffs. 

“They do this all the time,” Aemond tells him, “trust me dude. You don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

Cregan nods, meeting your eyes. You watch helplessly as he shoves his hands in his pocket. 

“Got it,” he says, turning to leave, “nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You watch as he disappears into the crowd, an annoyed expression on your face. 

“Hey Y/N,” Alys purrs, giving you a once over. You give her a fake smile watching as she runs a hand across Aemond’s broad chest. Her nails are painted red, matching her lips. 

“Hey Alys,” you tell her, “so nice seeing you.”

“Likewise,” the older woman says, red lips in a smirk. She gives you a quick once over, lashes fluttering. She touches the hand that Aemond has rested on her shoulder. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” she tells him, unwrapping herself from him and heading to the bar. Aemond looks down at you. 

“What is your problem?” you accuse, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You gonna fuck that guy?” he asks. 

“So what if I do? It’s none of your business what I do, and who I choose to sleep with!” you tell him.

Aemond only scoffs, leaning over you. 

“Aegon’s your boyfriend.”

“Then where is he!” you yell, anger getting the better of you, “if he gives a shit about where I am or who I’m with? Where is he?”

Aemond doesn’t answer, he simply continues to glare down at you. Baela has noticed the argument, nudging Jace as she hurriedly climbs down off of the platform. 

You spot Cregan at the bar. As you’re turning to leave, Aemond grabs your arm. His lips are curved into a predatory snarl. 

“Don’t,” he says, voice a low warning. 

“Make me,” you challenge, watching him set his jaw. Every angle of his face looks like it could cut you into pieces. 

You pull your arm from his grasp, leaving just as Baela and Jace approach.

“Okay, time to go,” Jace says, clapping his hands together. Baela is already on her phone, calling an Uber. Aemond hums angrily, before leaving to find Alys. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking up to Cregan. His eyebrows lift in surprise and he appears to choke on his drink. 

“Me?” he says, half joking.

“Yeah,” you tell him, huffing with anger, “give me your phone.”

He reaches into his back pocket, a smile threatening to burst across his face. You create a new contact by putting your number in. 

“Call me, text me, whatever,” you tell him, returning his phone, “I’m single. Okay?”

He blinks, a smile coming across his face. Cregan looks at you, dragging his eyes over your body from head to toe. A wolf, whose prey has come willingly to greet him. 

“Okay,” he agrees as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Badass,” Baela says, slapping your butt as you walk out of the club to meet your Uber.

taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress

note: kisses ily all so much MWAH 😘

#aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targrayen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond angst #aemond smut #aemond hotd #modern!hotd #modern hotd #modern!aemond #modern!aegon targaryen #modern au #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond stannies

[neverchecking]

Day 5: Sweat- Twilight

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: Sweat, licking of said sweat, country boy

This is Day five of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< Day 4 >>>Day 6

Everyone knew that farming was a…taxing business. Being a ranch or stable hand was not an easy job. Certainly not one anyone could do. They had to be born and bread or carved out of the depths for it. 

Twilight had been born, bred and raised on farm work. Anyone with working eyes could see that. See the way his biceps had bulged and curved, or with how broad his shoulders were. Made for carrying heavy stacks of feed or, in his case, wrangling Ordonian goats. Not an easy task by any means, but one he was more than willing to take up. The feeling of pure dopamine after a job well done kept him hooked, and the steady, slow consistency of it all brought him comfort. But more than anything, it made him work. Made him push his own limits to the point of nearly snapping, only to drive right past those pre-conceived notions of restrictions and carve out new ones for himself. It had made him sweaty, yes, and gave him an odor that eventually even the goats would avoid, but the feeling of pure accomplishment won over any negatives. Threw them to the ground like worthless maggots as he trampled his way forward. 

His shirt had long since been shed as he continued moving around hay in the back of the barn, his entire chest coated in a sheen of sweat that shined in the dusk of the ever falling sun. It was getting late, and you would worry in that same adorable way you always did, but he had wasted too much time in talking to Rusl this morning and had fallen behind on his chores. He’d feel guilty for the rest of the night if he didn’t finish, even if Fado had long since waved him off. It was his own conscience that wouldn’t let him rest until the day's work had been completed. Although, he wasn’t overly excited to delay going home to you. You’d understand, it’s who you were. Just as hardworking and resilient as he was, if not more. You believed in seeing a job until it’s end, even if it wasn’t necessarily a good one. You were just perfect like that. One of the many, many things he positively adored about you. 

Throwing down the pitchfork, he ran his forearm along his forehead. It came back, coated in sweat, but it was shaken off. The job, at last, had been finished with the last goat’s pasture finally cleaned, and he was free to leave. Free of the torment of his brain and it’s need to torment him. 

Just as he turned to make the trek back to you (After a dip in the river of course), he nearly shouted at the sight. You were there, hanging onto the pole of the stall and staring him down much like a predator would it’s prey. Your eyes never left his chest as your other hand fiddled with the gold band on your finger. 

“Ya’ okay there, darlin’?” He dared to ask, hoping his racing heart calmed itself. “Scared me half to death back there.” 

You blinked then shook your head, as if snapping out of some sort of trance. “Yeah, yeah, just…Do you trust me?” 

What a foolish question. He would rip out his still beating heart and give it to you if you asked because he knows you’d use it for something worthwhile. He’d tear the kingdom right out of Dusk’s grimy claws if it meant you could have it because he knew you’d run it perfectly. He would side with Ganon should you so wish since he knew you had his best interest at heart. 

Still, he nodded. 

You stepped forward, hands reaching for his chest before they glided against his pecs, thumbs brushing just against his nipples. It wasn’t something new, you had an odd fascination with his pectorals and he knew it, but the look you were giving them was something he had never seen from you. It was hungry and laser-focused, nothing deterring you from whatever you had deemed necessary in this very moment. 

He licked his own sharp canines. “Sweetheart-” His mouth suddenly clamped shut as his entire body went stiff. Your tongue dragged right between the valley of said pecs, licking up to the curve of his collarbone before flicking away with the sweat collected. Your saliva, which was quickly cooling along his skin, shined much in the same way the sweat did, marking no real difference to what you had done. Not to the visible eye at least. But to Twilight? 

His entire head was screaming at him, pushing him to move or do something, but it was as if he just couldn’t. He was stuck. 

“Sorry, I just- I don’t know what came over me, but-”

“Do it again.” 

You paused. “What?” 

He gently grabbed your hands, holding them away from your chest. “Do it again. Lick e’ry inch a’me until ya can’t taste anything else. Until every time ya look at me y’er reminded of what ya did. Do. It. Again.”

You swallowed. When you hesitated, he leaned in close with a gruff growl. 

“I said, do it again.”

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe #yandere legend of zelda #link x reader #legend of zelda #loz #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #cindersins #Cinder's happy halloween #lu twilight x reader #lu twilight #yandere lu twilight #yandere lu twilight x reader

[lssugaluv]

The way he asks you to marry him.

Fem reader x various Haikyuu characters.

• Haikyuu Headcanons.

• Small Stories + Headcanons.

• Contains: Fluff, bunch of it. How long you’ve been dating for, romance, sweetness, petnames, high school to adult romance.(most of them.)

• Characters: Ushijima, Kuroo, Sugawara, Atsumu, & Suna.

Sugawara;

You and Suga have been dating for 4 years now. You began dating on your third year of high school.

You were the girl of his dreams. When he had finally gained the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, after having the biggest crush on you since your first year, he felt like he was about to pass out.

Those nerves came again when he asked you to meet him at your favorite garden in Kokedera, Kyoto. It was just the two of you, he wanted the proposal to be as intimate as can be.

He asked you to come in a cute flowy white dress he bought for you. He wore a loose white dress shirt with kacky pants and white slip on vans.

When he saw you arrive, he swore you were an Angel sent from heaven. Gorgeous as ever. Today you were just extra gorgeous to him.

At first you had no idea why he asked you to come dressed up to the garden but you didn’t question him. Once you arrived and saw him playing with his fingers and slightly flushed from his cheeks, you knew something was up.

He went ahead and grabbed both of your hands and yelled “I LOVE YOU.”

You giggle and tell him you love him as well.

“P..PL..PLEASE BE MY WIFE!”

You open your eyes wide and grow the biggest smile you can possibly have. “Baby, you don’t need to yell.” You say as you giggle. You reach in to kiss his soft lips and place your forehead on his, eyes closed. “I would love to be your wife.” As you both give each other the biggest bear hug.

Ushijima;

You and Ushijima have been dating for 3 years now.

You two met in middle school due to your family moving to Sendai and being neighbors with Ushijima. You guys will unintentionally walk to school together and back home.

In high school, you guys will hardly talk but he had always though you were very pretty. He loved how naturally beautiful you were and how happy you seem to be. He got to know after you two graduated Shiratorizawa. You both went to the same college and pursued your dream careers.

The way he asked to marry you was by taking you to the pathway to Shiratorizawa. Compared to your middle school walk, the high school was a bit further from your homes.

You guys will have to pass through a river path everyday and gorgeous greenery.

You two were walking in silence hand in hand. He always loved how your small hand fit perfectly with his huge hand. He loved how the soft wind will blow your hair and he was able to see your beautiful side view and features. He loved how every step he’ll take, you’ll try to keep up with him.

You two finally arrived to the River pathway and he had asked you to take a seat on the grass with him. You two enjoy the nature and the sounds of the river currents. Despite your now busy lives, he always enjoyed this peace with you. With no one around but just the two of you.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you Y/N.”

You gently smile and rest your head on his shoulder , rubbing your hand up and down his forearm.

“I do too Toshi.”

He moves in front of you, blocking the view of the river, which you didn’t mind at all. He’s the view you love to see.

“Please marry me.” He says as he opens a small dark blue cube box with a simple silver band in the box.

You couldn’t help but not hold back your tears and nod your head as in yes. You stick your hand out and he places the small engagement band around your small finger. “I love you” you say as you give him the most sweetest kiss.

Suna;

You and Suna have been best friends since elementary.

You two began to actually date on your first year of high school. You have been his high school sweetheart, his biggest supporter, his best friend, his everything since day one. He knew one day he will marry you. And the day to ask the big question has came at last.

Suna has always been one to keep to himself but when it came to the two of you being alone, man was he attached to you. He always shows his true colors when only being with you. He is crazy in love with you.

The way he asks to marry you is by asking you to come over to his apartment and making dinner together.

You came dressed in a nice light pink corset top with light washed jeans and low white heels. You always loved to get dolled up for him even when he said he preferred you in his sweater and sweatpants.

He was dressed casual, a black polo shirt and some jeans, and shoes, well he had slippers on because he was inside his apartment.

You guys decide to go with chicken Alfredo pasta since today’s date night dinner was Italian. You guys always will meet up during your busy weeks, or FaceTime when he was out of the country or town due to tournaments. You will always play “Spin the Wheel” using your phone and typing which country you guys should do date night with.

Since it was Italian night, you guys made homemade pasta, got store bought Gelato, and decided to watch “Letters To Juliet.” He knew how much you love romance movies, so he always let you choose the movies.

Meanwhile you guys were eating, you noticed he was eating slower than usual. Which you grew to worry because the food was very delicious. “Rin Rin, is everything okay?” He picked up that he was overthinking and quickly stuffed pasta in his mouth. “Yes princess. The food is delicious.” He says with a mouthful.

When you cleaned up after eating and served the gelato, you meet him at the couch with the movie ready to play on Netflix. You notice that he was on his phone, which was a rule that when on date night, no phones allowed. You stopped the movie to ask him what was wrong again.

He assures you nothing is wrong and told you to play the movie. You then notice he once again is focused of his phone when you pull the phone away from his hands. He freezes when you gasped after you read what was on the Google search.

“ How to surprise girlfriend with a proposal?”

After you finished reading, you saw he was right in front of you, both knees on the ground and one small white box on your thigh. “I panicked and didn’t know how to surprise you. But I want you to be with me forever more. Sorry you had to find out through Google Y/N.”

You place the white box on the side of the couch and literally jump on him, both of your bodies dropping to the ground. You begin to give him a billions of kisses all over his face, with the biggest smile on your face. “A millions times yes Rintarou.”

Kuroo;

As he’s pacing back and forth in Kenma’s room, he finally got an idea. “I know where! I can propose to Y/N at the beach.” He says as he grabs on to his best friends shoulders, blocking his game.

Kenma moves his head to the side to get a view of his game. “I already told you that idea.”

You and Kuroo have been dating for 2 years. You guys met at work in the office. You guys actually met at the beach. It was frustrating day for him, and he loves to cool off at the beach. You had gone that day because you were supposed to go on a date, just for the guy to stood you up. You knew of one another at work but never actually spoken until that day.

He had saw you walking alone by the waves, barefoot while you were holding your heels. It was freezing that day, which he thought you were insane walking barefoot. He walks toward you when he saw you were wiping your tears and standing in front of the ocean.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You turn to face the tall man and completely ball out crying. He invited you to eat ramen after your cried it out and took you home. He waited in the living room until you showered and had made tea for you. He then had left once he saw you fully asleep, and left a note on your nightstand giving you his number.

You meet him at the beach and you see he is standing right in front of the ocean. You silently walk toward him and stand next to him, taking in the ocean breeze. “Remember two years ago when I met you at this exact spot? You were crying for some asshole meanwhile I was having a work meltdown.” He still hadn’t made any eye contact with you but continued. “I remember thinking how pretty you looked crying and wondered to myself, man, if only a girl can cry for me.”

He takes your hand and placed a small diamond ring on your left ring finger. “Let me be the one to wipe your tears on the altar when we’re getting married. I love you, always and forever. Thank you for being my everything.”

You begin to cry after staring at the tiny rock for a good 5 minutes. He gently picks up your face with his two huge hands, wiping your happy tears with his thumbs. “Yes Tetsu. Yes.”

Atsumu;

You and Atsumu have been dating for 5 years. You began to date during your second year of high school. Everyone who knew you and Atsumu gave you 1 week for you to break up with him. They always knew Atsumu to be the dumb volleyball nerd meanwhile you were a smart straight A student. You both were pretty popular, but people thought you were too much for Atsumu.

Atsumu has always been loud, obnoxious, and sometimes an airhead. But boy did he love you. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you as soon as you had surprised him at one of his volleyball games. “She’s the one.” He said nice and proud to his teammates that day at the locker rooms.

During the nationals, he went out of the country and had invited you with him. It was pretty tough for you to leave due to your university schedule but you had managed to make it. You were wearing his jersey that day, cheering loud and proud for your MSBY superstar.

You hear the bell and call it game and they had won. From there , some people were leaving and you were so excited to see Atsumu to congratulate him and the team. From there, you see yourself on the jumbo screen confused. You look down at Atsumu and look back up at the jumbo screen to see Atsumu on one knee with the screen saying “Marry me baby.” The screen once again goes back to you with tears running down your face and the rest of the crowd cheering loudly.

Bokuto had ran to go get you and grabs your hand and you both run to the court. Once you guys get to the doors of the entrance of the courts, Bokuto stops and leaves you on your own. You charged towards Atsumu, jumping on him and clinging on him. You gave him a huge kiss and said “I would love to marry you Atsumu.” He then pulls your head towards him and gives you three huge kisses, carrying you meanwhile the crowd roars again and all cameras on you both.

After thoughts:

• Hey y’all. Coming back to you with some fluff because why not? And Haikyuuuu head canons are my fav. I just got married through the court. So of course love is in the air and I wanted to write about proposing.

• Not Proofread. :/

• Please enjoy, like, comment & Reblog.

• Please do not copy my work. <3

#haikyuu romance #haikyuucharacters #Haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyu fanfiction #love #haikyuu fluff #fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya #sugawara x y/n #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koushi #suna rintarō #sunarin #haikyuu boys #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo fanfic #kuroo tetsurou #ushijima fluff #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fic #headcanon #haikyū!! #suna fluff #kuroo testuro #kuroo fluff

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Freaky Deaky: Carlos Oliveira x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Kitchen sex with Carlos ;)

Contains: Spanking, light hair pulling and creampies

“Carlos.”

Your tone was heavy with warning. You barely turned your head, just enough to send a glare over your shoulder to your boyfriend who was directly behind you with that stupid handsome smirk on his face. His strong arms had made their home around your waist, his large hands had planted themselves firmly against your person. One had knotted into your shirt while the other trailed delicately over the waistband of your sleep shorts, his thumb had dipped in between the band as his nail ran across your skin. He pressed his entire front against your back, leaving little room between you both. You could feel everything.

Literally. Everything.

Especially the erection that was pressing against your ass, Carlos ever so slightly rutting himself against you just to get a rise.

“I’m not doing anything,” he smiled slyly.

“Sure you’re not.”

Normally, you would’ve done something about it, but your hands were currently covered in oil and seasonings as you worked on dinner for the two of you. You continued to work, massaging the seasonings into the meat before setting it on the rack and then picking up another piece to repeat the process.

Carlos’ hand dipped fully between your shorts and your person. He pressed his palm flat, holding it against your warm skin. His hands had been roughened over the years, but they always felt amazing on your skin. He rubbed odd patterns against your stomach with his thumb as his other hand let go of your shirt. He reached up and moved your hair away from the back of your neck, caressing it until he pushed it to go over one of your shoulders.

You tried to ignore him, hands working quickly to finish preparing the food so you can just put it in the stupid oven and forget about it for an hour or so.

Carlos leaned in and ghosted his lips over the now exposed side of your neck. His lips were so gentle while his beard was so sharp, scratching lightly at the delicate skin he loved to bruised with his mouth. He pressed a kiss directly at the apex of your neck and shoulder, then another, then another with teeth this time. He nipped at the skin, loving how you tried to shrug him off with a small scoff. He smirked against your skin before he moved up your neck. He pressed a harder kiss to the side column of your throat, groaning softly against you as he pressed his erection right up against your ass.

“Carlos,” you couldn’t help but whimper.

His free hand came back to your shirt only to slip underneath and travel inside until it found your free breasts. He grabbed at your breast firmly, pressing his thumb against your nipple and digging a nail into it. You gasped, dropping the piece of meat into the mixture as your hands locked up for a second.

He smiled against your neck and moved up to your ear. He nosed the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss to your earlobe before he nipped at the soft skin.

“Why don’t you occupy yourself with another piece of meat?” he purred directly into your ear.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, you needed him so fucking badly. Your body felt as though you had been plunged in an icy river and only he could give you the warmth you so desperately needed. You craved for him to bury himself inside of you and fill you, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You were dripping at just the thought of him taking you right now in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and spanking you, lying you back on the island and fucking you, riding him at the kitchen table as he assaulted your breasts with his mouth and hands.

As if he could read your mind, Carlos’ hand pressed flat against your stomach started moving south, his fingertips dipping past your panties until he cupped at your womanhood. He purred in your ear at just the heat you were giving off. You suddenly gasped and grabbed at the counter when one of his fingers came up and pressed into you, splitting open your petals and pressing into your soaking entrance.

“Somebody’s wet already,” he growled so seductively.

He continued to stroke you from behind as his other hand massaged at your breast. He went slow, loving the way your slick arousal coated his finger and dripped down to his roughened palm. You moaned softly, toes curling and fingers tightening as you leaned into his touch.

Until he quickly let go of you completely, backing away from you. You whined and whipped around to glare at him with the passion of one hundred burning sons. He was smiling, that bastard, hands up in defense as he took a few wide steps back.

“Sorry, babe, I’ll let ya finish,” he winked.

For an added measure, he made sure to lick off your arousal from his finger before he turned his back to you and started to walk away.

You weren’t going to let that happen.

You started for him, managing to snag at the sleeve of his tight black t-shirt only for him to whip around and push you away from him. Your back hit the granite island countertop and he quickly closed the distance between you both, caging you in between his brawny arms as you clung to his t-shirt for dear life. His dark curls had been combed back, his dark eyes were lit with such feral intensity. You both were chest to chest, nose to nose, dripping sex to throbbing erection. You could feel his heart hammering away inside of his chest as it rose and fell deeply like he had just ran a marathon.

Something finally snapped inside of you both, bringing each other in as close as possible as your lips close as possible. Your hands clawed up to his broad shoulders, sinking your nails into the soft cotton shirt. He kissed you like a man possessed, like he was starving. He was animalistic and rough, his hands snatching at your waist and balling at your shirt so hard you thought the poor piece of fabric would tear apart right in half. He sank his teeth into your lower lip forcing you to whimper pitifully against his mouth until you finally relented. He wasted no time when you parted your lips, his tongue swirling with yours as you tasted a faint trace of iron from your now sore lip.

He moved his hands to grab at your breasts, squeezing them both now through your shirt, thumbs rolling over your pebbled nipples before pinching them. You arched your back into his touch, a low moan vibrated through his mouth from your own before he pulled away slightly. You whined at the loss, your eyes fluttering open to look at him as he continued to mess with your breasts.

“I love it when you don’t wear a bra,” he growled against your lips, “easy access to your tits.” You whined and arched your back against the island countertop. “You like it when I grab your tits? You like it when I grab you like a slut?”

His words only spurred something deeper inside of you. Your loins felt like they were on fire.

“Carlos- ah!- please,” you cried out into the little space between you both.

“What? What do you want me to do to you?” he growled as his hands sped up the kneading of your breasts.

“Fuh- Fuck me! Fuck me, please!”

He dropped your breasts for a brief moment to yank off your shirt from your body, tugging the damned piece of fabric up and over your head before he tossed it somewhere over his bulky shoulder. He spun you around, a small wheeze pressed out of your mouth as the countertop dug into your stomach as Carlos snatched at your waist. He yanked down your shorts and your panties in another fluid motion before he swiftly smacked your ass, eliciting a yelp from you. You trembled, clutching onto the granite as you heard him unzip his pants before you felt a tap at your poor passage. As he pushed himself in, he made sure to snatch at your body and draw you in close to him, your nails scratching for purchase against the countertop. You gasped and moaned aloud, feeling Carlos’ dick split you practically wide open. You had to spread your legs a bit more apart and leaned against the countertop for more support. Carlos groaned loudly behind you, his voice deep and vibrating from somewhere inside of his chest. He winced at the feeling of your tight walls clamping down around him, his mouth unhinging as he choked on his moan.

He slowly started to move, his hips rocked at such a perfect pace that had your heart fluttering in your cunt as the blood roared in your ears. You winced and gasped at the tightness in your core, your knees trembling as your pussy tightened around his thick cock. Sex with Carlos always felt like the first time.

He quickened his pace when you started to beg, his hips slapping against your ass as he drove his cock into you mercilessly. His hands snatched at your body to ground himself, his breathing had become animalistic.

“Look at you,” he purred down at you, “taking my cock so well- fuck!” He moaned out loud when your walls twitched around him. “You’re always so tight for me, baby.” he praised as he ran a soothing hand along your waist.

He suddenly spanked you again, a shrill cry erupted from you as your knees threatened to give out. Your fingertips were aching from grabbing at the granite countertop. Your ass screamed and tingled from his smack.

“C-Carlos,” you whimpered.

He plunged his cock as far into you as he could go before nearly pulling himself back out, only to do it all over again. He was like a well-oiled machine.

Another spank on the ass had your cunt throb around him deliciously. You could feel your arousal starting to drip down your inner thighs. You could feel the white hot ball of lust inside of you about to burst.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he cooed so sweetly before spanking your poor ass once again. “Cum on my cock like a good girl.”

You came with a sudden cry, your body falling limp against the island as Carlos continued to fuck you from behind. He held you up with both hands on your hips as if you weighed nothing. His strong hands held you like a vice, even as your legs felt like they were made of gelatin.

You felt him twitch inside of you not too long after, his thrusts had started to lose their perfect pace. His breathing had become ragged in your ear.

“Carlos, please,” you crooned for him.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” he purred right in your ear.

“Cum in me,” was all you whispered that really drove it home.

It wasn’t too long after that Carlos had came with a loud groan, stilling his hips as he plunged himself as deep as he could go inside of you. He painted your insides white with his burning seed, pressing his toned stomach against your back, pinning you to the island once again as you milked his cock for all he had before he pulled away.

You only have a moment to gasp for air and to steady your legs before you felt Carlos bury his hand into your hair. He looped his fingers around your locks right at your upper neck and guided you back firmly. Your mouth unhinged as you cried aloud, unable to do anything else but stumble and follow where he was guiding you. Your eyes stung with tears, your ass burned from where he spanked you every time you took a wobbly step. The sting against your scalp burned, sending little electric currents down your spine and directly into your throbbing cunt. You both quickly came up to the kitchen table where he tossed you against the table, you snatched at the tabletop and whimpered when he let go of your hair. You braced yourself against it and turned, watching as Carlos dropped his pants fully and slid off his boxers, kicking them across the kitchen’s tiled floor.

Your eyes widened at his dick; Already it was starting to stiffen up again.

Carlos peeled off his sheet with one fluid motion and stalked towards you, his eyes dark and trained right on you as though you both were predator and prey. He grabbed at your arm and kicked away one of the chairs with his heel. He sat quickly, dragging you down with him until you landed in his firm lap with a short gasp. You hovered over his cock, his slick head brushing against your cunt that was already dripping with his semen. His hands snatched at your waist and forced you to sink down at an angle and for his cock to pierce right into you again.

You cried out, your poor cunt was already overstimulated from the abuse it just recieved.

Carlos’ grip on your waist was iron-tight. He had you bouncing on his dick as your hands carded through his thick curls. He leaned up and captured your lips in another kiss, swallowing you moans and whines. He thrusted up into you, burying himself as deep as he could go thrust for thrust. He suddenly smacked your ass again, yanking a sharp cry out of you as you pulled away, allowing your lover to press kisses to your balmy skin.

His thrusts had grown sloppy rather quickly as you came with another cry, your orgasm tearing your soul a new one as you almost collapsed on top of him. His hips were jerking in odd thrusts as he used your near-limp body to fuck himself, chasing after his second climax like his life depended on it.

He came with a shout, head thrown back as his proud chest heaved. His hot seed shot into you once again, reclaiming the space that it had just vacated not even a few minutes ago.

#resident evil #carlos x reader #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader

[v0rewhxre]

Coming Home

Hello Lovelies! Thank y'all so much for the support and love the past day! I have decided to write a little quick Folio Fic! Hope you enjoy!

18+ warning

CW: [implied unprotected p in v but no descriptive details, drinking, fluffy fluff, smooching, longing]

It started like any other day when Folio was home, a quick morning text letting you know he was finally home after a long touring schedule. Not only was Nick your best friend, but you lived in the same rural neighborhood. You spent your summer days riding bikes throughout the twists and turns of neighboring streets. You spent the evenings watching Folio play drums in local bands in concrete basements, ears ringing for days afterwards. Winters were spent surrounding bonfires, wrapped in blankets and reliving old times together.

One by one each friend left your hometown but Folio stayed, except when it came to touring, recording, and anything else Bad Omens. So when the opportunity came to spend time with him, you always jumped on it.

And what did he want to do? Go fish...

Equipped with fishing poles, his dad's truck, and a cooler full of Natty Boh's, Folio arrived bright and early like he said he would.

The river was a short drive from your neighborhood. You sat in the passenger seat while Folio took all the familiar turns. At the end of a long road, that had since turned into dirt from asphalt, Folio pulled to the side. The sound of the parking break indicated it was time to gear up. You opened the familiar creaking door, moving to the now open truck bed. You reluctantly accepted the wader pants, earning a small chuckle from Folio's lips.

"The last time you complained about the leeches for hours, y/n," Folio said looking down at the pants then into your eyes.

You practically melted at his chocolate brown eyes, nodding your head as you begun pulling the waders over your leggings.

Once geared up you both trekked through the woods on a barely-there path, but you both knew exactly where you were going. At the rivers edge, you cracked open a beer, prepared your fishing poles, and waded out into the flowing river.

"I reckon I'll catch the biggest fish this time," You teased as you both cast out your lures. Folio chose a simple blue spinner lure, while you opted for a rainbow jerkbait.

Hours passed by as you both cast out lines, reeled in, and repeated. A few small bluefish made their ways onto your hooks, nothing noteworthy. The trout Folio caught was small and did not meet regulation to keep.

Despite the lack of fish, you both had fun. You earned a few splashes from Folio when you cast your line too close to his, he didn't want you to steal his prize fish. You splashed him when his back turned to you, earning a scold from him that you 'scared the fish away' when his line came up empty once again.

After another hour or so more, you both waded your way to shore to sit on the bank and drink a few beers. The sun had begun to set casting deep shadows from the trees. You both sat silently, enjoying each other's company. Every so often you caught Folio's eyes light up when looking at you, earning a shy smile and blush as he quickly looked away. It all just felt right. You loved his goofy smile, the way his face was so expressive even in simple moments like this.

When dusk settled, you both packed up your gear walking back to the truck. In the cover of the trees it was almost impossible not to trip over fallen branches and tree roots. When you made it back to the truck it took all but a few minutes to wiggle out of the waders. Although, Folio caught you when you tripped taking your left foot out. You caught his gaze, mere inches from his beautiful face. His eyes now as dark as the night creeping its way in. His nose ring catching the last light that was left behind.

Then his lips crashed into yours, it was slow but hungry. It started as just lips, and then teeth, and then tongue. The kiss grew urgent, hungry. Your body electrified, it had been so long since you imagined what it would be like to be Folio's. You gave up on that idea long ago when Folio wanted to pursue his dreams.

One shirt came off, then another, one bra, then pants were on the ground. You both had made your way into the backseat of the truck driven by a string you both knew was there. Folio took his time, sneaking glances into your eyes to make sure every move he made was ok, was right.

Fingers snaked under the bands of underwear, both cast aside somewhere in the front seat of the truck. The windows had begun to fog from the pure ecstasy of two friends exploring the deepest parts of themselves for the first time.

The silent night was filled with breathless moans; small gasps when the right spot was found. Pleasure was building slowly, powerfully running between the two of you. And then it was over as fast as it had started, ending in small screams of the others' names. You both clothed quickly, knowing you had already missed the opportunity to eat a hot dinner around your dining table.

Folio drove home, taking the familiar turns once more before pulling in front of your house. Lights illuminated his eyes, which you caught one more time before opening the door and going home.

If you had looked back, you would have noticed Folio's stare lingered on the back of your head for a moment too long. He wanted to say something, but he knew it wasn't the right time.

He would always come home.

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

Hope you enjoyed :)

#nick folio #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio x reader #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens

[vague-bisexual-crimes]

hiiii I wrote this at midnight last night and edited it like five minutes after I woke up so please be nice and forgive any grammatical errors 🙏

Description: almost 3k words of post-hiatus, pre-relationship Jimmy and Lister, ft. pining and background Frances and Rowan.

Rated: G

TWs: canon-typical anxiety, brief mentions of alcohol and drinking

Without any further ado my first (bicci) fanfic ever!

sleepless nights (as long as they’re with you)

Somewhere between Lister almost dying, drunk and alone in a river some short ways from Pierro’s and the release of The Ark’s first post-hiatus album, Jimmy realized something. Jimmy realized that maybe, just maybe, Lister wasn’t just objectively attractive, but, in fact, Jimmy was attracted to him. Jimmy tries to think back to when they were younger, or even just a few years ago to try to figure out if the attraction is recent or had always been there. Either way, the romantic feelings began to develop a few months after they’d brought Lister home from the hospital.

Rowan is gone visiting his not-girlfriend Frances Janvier, so it’s just Jimmy and Lister in their new-ish apartment. It’s just outside London, close enough for them to be in London on short notice, far enough that they can breathe.

None of the three boys have technically dated during or after the hiatus, but Rowan has been talking to Frances Janvier for a few months, since they’d met at a movie premiere and she had no idea who The Ark was aside from “that’s a band, isn’t it?”, and Rowan was immediately enamored. Jimmy and Lister had placed bets on how soon Rowan and Frances would get together that same night.

It’s getting to be late for Jimmy and Lister. A few weeks into the hiatus they had all begun to put in a genuine effort to get a solid 8 hours of sleep a night, but tomorrow is a day off, and tonight they just don’t care.

The two of them are laying on Jimmy’s bed while Brooklyn 99 episodes auto-play in the background, although they haven’t been watching for some time now.

Lister is ranting about the book series he’s just finished, one that Jimmy read a few years ago and remembers very little of, but is content to listen to Lister tell him the entire plot, along with all of his opinions.

That said, Jimmy is finding it difficult to pay attention to what Lister was saying. Lister’s sitting next to him, wearing Jimmy’s well-loved Black Parade hoodie that Jimmy pulled up from the floor after Lister kept complaining about being cold, but not wanting to get up. Something that should be known about Lister is that whenever he speaks enthusiastically about something, his hands and his arms move a lot. Normally, this is fine and not really notable to Jimmy, however tonight, every time Lister raises an arm, Jimmy’s hair-too-small hoodies rises up and a sliver of Lister’s bare stomach becomes visible.

You would think that when Lister had been laying in his bed shirtless, Jimmy would have been distracted, but Lister had so rarely ever worn anything more than boxers that the sight no longer phased Jimmy. But Lister was in Jimmy’s bed, in Jimmy’s hoodie, and Jimmy was struggling to not stare at his stomach.

“—and I despise love triangles, they’re entirely unnecessary and frankly annoying, but somehow this book did it well?” Lister says, sounding mildly distressed at his own statement.

“Yeah, it’s not like an Edward and Jacob love triangle at all.” Jimmy replies before Lister is rushing off on an entirely different tangent about Twilight.

Blame the Twilight talk, but now Jimmy can’t help but notice Lister’s newest tattoo, a floral piece on the side of his neck. It looks pretty—Lister looks pretty.

Lister looks healthier than Jimmy thinks he’s ever seen him. He’d stopped drinking and was beginning to put on a bit of muscle. But it’s not only that, he has this look in his eye that Jimmy hasn’t seen since The Ark finished recording their first EP Kill It. Like he’s really happy.

Jimmy shakes his head to himself, tears his eyes away from Lister’s neck, and his eyes land on the long forgotten television.

He got over you years ago. Jimmy reminds himself. It would be cruel to do this to him years after the fact. Lister doesn’t deserve that, and Jimmy isn’t going to do that to him.

“—Jim-jam?” Lister’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Jimmy turns his eyes back to Lister, who seems mildly amused as he takes in Jimmy’s expression.

“Were you listening?” Lister asks, not upset but genuinely inquiring.

“Sorry, I got caught up in my head.” Jimmy replies, which is not technically untrue.

“Are you alright?” Lister asks, his expression shifting just so slightly from amusement to worry, now.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’m listening now.” Jimmy coaxes Lister to keep talking and forget his concern.

“Are you sure? You looked upset?” Lister asks. A good and bad thing from The Ark all getting some therapy during the hiatus was that Lister was keen to communicate now. Which was good most of the time, and bad right now.

Jimmy doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Lister. At his Black Parade hoodie, the sleeves fitted where they should be baggy, Lister’s hands no longer moving, but tucked into its pocket. At Lister’s floral tattoo on the side of his neck that Jimmy has wanted to kiss since Lister came home and showed Jimmy and Rowan the piece in the middle of their kitchen while Rowan was making tea and Jimmy was sitting on the counter listening to Rowan go on and on about Frances.

Jimmy’s eyes finally slid up to look at Lister’s face. At the lips he kissed once, in a bathroom, years ago, when Lister had been drunk, and Jimmy didn’t feel that way about him. Where Lister had profusely apologized and begged Jimmy not to hate him. It was an absurd statement then, and it still was. How could Jimmy hate Allister Bird?

Jimmy’s eyes find Lister’s. Lister’s gaze is unwavering and kind. Sometimes Jimmy wonders what his relationship would be to Lister if The Ark hadn’t become what it did.

“Jimmy?”

Therapy also means that Jimmy has learned how to properly communicate. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to.

Jimmy can feel the panic start to actually build in his chest, the real panic, lively and nauseous, not the thought spiral that Lister had seen moments prior.

It’s now or never. Jimmy seems to realize all at once. He can tell Lister how he feels, potentially ruining the closest relationship he has ever had, that isn’t Rowan or Pierro and Joan, potentially distancing himself from one of the two people in the world who actually know him and understand his life, potentially ruining everything that they had spent the past six months building back up for the band, the band which had managed to have wildly unprecedented success after what their management had considered a far-too-long hiatus.

Or he can tell Lister how he feels and Lister could feel the same way and they can live happily-ever-after.

The latter seems too good to be true.

Lister has always been too good for Jimmy. He always will be. Jimmy is a mess. Even now, when he’s at the best place he has ever been with his mental health and The Ark is doing better than it ever has, what with the new album doing even better than Joan of Arc had at release, Jimmy is still a mess.

But Lister is still looking at him like that. Looking at him like he cares.

“I’m okay, Lister.” Jimmy puts on a weak smile to combat the lumb in his throat. “Do y’want some tea?” Jimmy asks, already halfway out of bed.

“I can do it, watch Brooklyn 99.” Lister says, his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, gently coaxing him to sit back down.

“You didn’t want to get up—” Jimmy begins to protest.

“I don’t mind.” Lister says so simply that Jimmy nearly begins to cry.

Jimmy says a much-too-quiet “okay”, and Lister slips out into the hallway.

Jimmy tries for a brief moment to actually watch Brooklyn 99 and wait for Lister to get back so he can tell Jimmy about his books. It doesn’t work.

Jimmy sighs in frustration and puts his head between his knees like he can cure romantic feelings in the same way as motion sickness.

Lister either makes the quickest cup of tea known to man, or Jimmy doesn’t notice how long he’s been staring at his fitted sheet, his mind somewhere between a panic attack and a confession.

“Jimmy?” Jimmy wishes he would stop doing things to make his name sound so laced with concern every time it falls off Lister’s lips. “You alright?”

Jimmy sits up and quickly takes the cup of tea from Lister.

“You look like you're about to be sick.” Lister says. “Do you want me to hand you the bin?” Jimmy shakes his head. “Do y’want me to call Rowan?”

“Please, don’t.” Jimmy finally says. He takes a sip of tea if only to avoid this conversation for a moment longer. Chamomile vanilla. Jimmy’s favorite.

He looks up at Lister who’s still standing next to Jimmy’s bed watching him. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?” Lister says, and god there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice that Jimmy knows he didn’t intend to slip through.

“Of course,” Jimmy says, his voice more level than it’s been since the start of this evening. “I tell you everything.” Not necessarily true, but not a lie either. He tells Lister everything…except this.

Lister crawls over Jimmy to get to the other side of the bed, not spilling Jimmy’s tea by some miracle, and immediately wraps his arm around Jimmy. “I love you, you know that?” Lister says with his cheek pressed into Jimmy’s hair.

“I love you, too, Lister.” This doesn’t really feel like a lie. Jimmy, Rowan, and Lister had loved each other for as long as they’d been friends. They haven’t been so vocal about it until their early twenties, but that has never made it any less true.

Jimmy drinks his tea in silence, the only noise in the entire apartment being Jimmy’s TV, and the soft rhythm of Lister’s breath in his ear.

When Jimmy sets his mug on his bedside table, Lister asks, “Want to go to bed?”

It is properly late now and all of Jimmy’s panic has made him exhausted.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answers and Lister’s arm falls away from Jimmy and he begins to crawl out of bed.

Jimmy catches Lister’s arm, moving a bit too fast, and says. “You don’t need to get up. My bed’s big enough for both of us.”

“It’s okay,” Lister begins to slide his arm from Jimmy’s hand.

“Your bed isn’t even made and you’re already here.” Jimmy tries to shrug nonchalantly and sets the TV to turn off after an hour.

“Okay,” Lister says only a bit louder than a whisper.

Jimmy lays down and pulls the covers up and around him, pretending he isn’t aware of every move Lister makes as he sets his phone on the floor by the bed, takes off Jimmy’s Black Parade hoodie and crawls fully under the covers.

Jimmy wasn’t lying when he said his bed was big enough for both of them, there’s a solid foot of bed between them and they still have wiggle room on the other side.

It never takes Jimmy long to fall asleep whenever Lister is there.

***

Rowan comes home the next morning with the news that he’s officially going out with Frances Janvier and Lister slyly hands Jimmy a twenty under the table when Rowan isn’t looking.

“Is she gonna be coming ‘round then?” Jimmy asks between bites of cereal.

“She’ll be ‘round next week, but not for a while after that, she and Aled have some Universe City stuff to do.” Rowan replies.

“That’s great, Ro,” Lister says. “‘Bit jealous that you’re the first one of us to be in a relationship since the hiatus but still.”

Rowan rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t waver. Rowan and Lister’s relationship has massively improved over the past few years. Partially from Rowan learning that he doesn’t need to take care of Lister all the time, partially because Lister has learned to take care of himself.

“You could date anyone.” Rowan says.

“Of course I could, have you considered none of them are good enough for Allister Bird?” Lister replies instantly.

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Rowan says.

“I’m with Lister on this one, Rowan, how come you’re the one who always ends up in good, long-term relationships?” Jimmy says as he puts his empty bowl in the dishwasher.

“I dated Bliss for two years and I haven’t even been dating Frances for 24 hours.”

“That’s longer term than Jimmy and I for like five years running.” Lister points out.

“That’s a lie! I dated that guy for three weeks when I was 16.” Jimmy protests.

“Relationships from when you were 16 don’t count.” Lister shrugs as though it’s law. “And you can’t even remember his name, can you?”

Jimmy ignores the last part. “You’re counting Bliss!”

“Because they dated while Rowan was also 17 and 18.”

“Impeccable logic as always, Bird.” Rowan says with a pat on Lister’s shoulder. Lister grins smugly at Jimmy.

“Rowan agrees with me.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Rowan says and then they’re all laughing.

***

Frances comes round the week later to stay for two nights. Jimmy and Lister gleefully tease Rowan about having a girlfriend (although they maintain that they’re perfectly nice and civil to Frances, who is lovely), but eventually the novelty begins to wear off and Jimmy and Lister decide to leave Rowan and Frances alone and retreat to Jimmy’s bedroom.

Watching Brooklyn 99 in Jimmy’s room has become something of a routine of theirs lately. Some nights they watch a few episodes until they actually feel tired and Lister will go to his own room to sleep, other nights he sleeps in Jimmy’s room.

Jimmy prefers the nights where Lister sleeps in Jimmy’s room. He can always sleep when Lister is there, despite the background anxiety about his feelings for Lister, he feels safe with him.

Tonight neither of them are really watching the show, instead they’re scrolling through their respective personal social media accounts that the fans somehow have yet to find. It’s a content silence and Jimmy is perfectly happy to continue to watch Brooklyn 99 and scroll through his phone until he falls asleep, but then Lister says,

“Tell me to shut up if I’ve got the wrong idea, but,” Lister pauses and takes a breath. “you seemed genuinely very stressed about something the other night, and you don’t have to tell me, but you haven’t seemed that stressed in so long and I’m worried about you.” Lister looks at him.

Jimmy means to say more, but all that comes out is, “Lister…”

“You don’t have to tell me just…I’m here for you, for anything. I need you to know that.”

Jimmy opens his mouth to speak and closes it.

“Do you remember when you were drunk and you kissed me?” It’s not at all what Jimmy means to say and as soon as it’s out of his mouth he feels shit for bringing it up.

“I—yeah,” Lister looks embarrassed and slightly pained at the memory.

“And I told you, more or less, that I didn’t feel that way about you,” Jimmy continues slowly.

“Jimmy, you don’t have to reject me again. I got it the first time, haha.” It’s the saddest laugh Jimmy’s ever heard and for a moment his entire train of thought derails.

“What?” Jimmy asks.

“I didn’t think I was being that obvious. God, I’m sorry, Jimmy, you must’ve been so uncomfortable.” Lister explains and he looks like he might start crying.

“D’you still like me?” Jimmy’s voice is soft.

“It feels a bit juvenile to say it that way but…but yeah…” Lister thinks for a moment. “What’d’you mean, did you not know?” Jimmy can see Lister trying to work out what the hell is happening and coming up more confused than before.

“No, no, Lister…” the words are still stuck in his throat. It’s now or never.

Jimmy turns to properly face Lister and puts his hands on his cheeks, the tips of his fingers brush against Lister’s soft blond hair. Lister leans in slightly to the touch, but confusion dances across his face.

Slowly, with plenty of time for Lister to stop him, Jimmy leans in. He stops a breath from Lister’s lips and presses his forehead against Lister’s. Lister’s hands come up to rest on Jimmy’s biceps, his breath quickens and seemingly against his will, his eyes flutter shut.

“Can I kiss you?” Jimmy whispers.

“God, please,” Lister whispers and then Jimmy’s lips meet Lister’s and this time it feels right.

Lister’s hands move from Jimmy’s arms to his waist, pulling him gently so that he’s sat in Lister’s lap. Jimmy’s thumbs stroke Lister’s cheeks as they kiss, every anxiety he’d had about telling Lister how he felt washing away with each brush of his lips against Lister’s.

After a moment their lips part from the other’s and Jimmy presses his forehead to Lister’s again as they breathe.

“That’s what you were having anxiety about?” Lister whispers, his breath fanning across Jimmy’s face.

Jimmy nods and slides his arms around Lister’s neck to rest on his shoulders.

Lister kisses him, once, chaste, before burying his face in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. Lister’s arms tighten around Jimmy’s waist and they hold each other for god-knows how long before they hear Frances and Rowan laughing at something in the living room.

They pull back just enough to see each other’s faces. Jimmy runs his fingers through Lister’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes and then kisses him.

“Stay with me tonight?” Jimmy asks.

“Always.” Lister replies and kisses him again.

#iwbft #i was born for this #the ark #jimmy kaga ricci #lister bird #rowan omondi #frances janvier #alice oseman #iwbft fanfic #bicci #Lister x Jimmy #minor Frances x Rowan

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Muenster Maven

Group: D 

Prompts: True Love's Kiss.  Skinny-dipping, secret relationship. Voyage

Note: This is a continuation of my previous entry, “Of Shepherds and Sizes.”

-

Of Rivers and Romance

The barge trudged along the river slowly, as though the late-summer heat had made the boat as lethargic as its passengers. Belle reclined in the shade from a sail, trying to maintain a ladylike composure. 

It was a losing battle. She was wearing her lightest dress, with as little undergarments as an unmarried woman could get away with, but the thin linen was already soaked through with sweat. The humidity had made managing her hair impossible so it hung loose and limp on her shoulders. The sun was too bright and the air was too thick for her to do anything but fan herself. If she wasn’t so miserable, she might be the picture of decadence. 

“Why did we have to make this voyage now?” she grumbled. “It could have waited a few months.”

“In a few months, who knows where the ogres might be?” Rumpelstiltskin was on the other side of the deck, sharing her shade, but keeping far enough away to be respectable. “Besides, sheep rut in autumn, so we have to have them home before then.”

“Of course,” Belle closed her eyes. “Safe at home, in the cool mountain pastures.”

They were heading south, into the lowlands of Maldonia. King Naveen’s lands were riddled with swamps, which gave their sheep a remarkable resiliency. Belle and Rumple had left Baelfire with the main flock and set out to study the foreign animals. Hopefully, they’d be able to select a few to bring back to Avonlea. 

He was ‘Rumple’ now. Months of working together had brought about a closeness between them, an informality that almost bordered on friendship. Or perhaps something deeper. Belle didn’t know how to go about having something deeper with a common man--or any man. Surely it would be a scandal. Surely it would be better to let things come no closer than almost-friendship.

“This is silly.” Rumple took his staff and began to stand. “I’m getting in the water.”

Belle sat up. “You’re what?” 

“I’m going for a swim.” Balancing carefully, he began to take off his tunic. 

The heat increased a thousandfold as Belle filled her eyes with the shape of his body. Lean muscles roped around his arms and back. A sheen of sweat on his tanned flesh glistened like jewels. When he turned around, she saw the thin, dark hair on his chest. Hair that grew thicker as it traveled down his waist, leading into the band of his breeches. 

He cleared his throat, clearly meaning to draw her attention back to his face. “By your leave, my lady?”

Still stunned, she nodded slightly, and he went down to the other end of the deck. A few of the crewmen had thrown a rope ladder down into the water for this exact purpose. All of them had been taking dips throughout the afternoon as respite from their work. Belle watched as Rumpelstiltskin took off his breeches, secured his staff on the deck, and jumped off the railing. 

Shielding her eyes from the glaring sun, Belle ran over to where he had jumped. She found Rumple treading water. He had splashed his face and wet his hair and now looked the very image of cool contentment. 

“The river is filthy!” she called down to him. “And in this land, it might be cursed!”

He laughed--a sound that was rare and always too brief. “Not to worry! If I get cursed, it can be broken with a kiss from my True Love.” 

Belle laughed back. “Who’s your True Love?”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t answer. He just smiled and began to swim to keep up with the slow pace of the boat.

He moved better in the river than he did on land. His sinewy arms pulled him forward, unhindered by his bad leg. He looked lighter here, more free. So many of the burdens that troubled him were gone, if only for just a moment.

Belle saw that freedom, that relief, that joy in Rumpelstiltskin’s face, and she wanted to be a part of it. After only the briefest hesitation, she pulled her dress and her chemise up over her head and dove into the water after him.

He greeted her with a shocked smile. “My lady!”

“I’m hardly acting like a lady now,” she said. “You mustn’t tell anyone back home about this.”

“I would never,” he said softly. “All your secrets are safe with me.”

In the cool water, Belle felt a warmth begin inside her heart. Her eyes met Rumpelstiltskin’s and he didn’t break away. His gaze washed over her face in clear adoration. 

Her breath stopped. She understood.

His eyes stayed on her as he swam closer. Only water separated their naked bodies. Rumpelstiltskin’s arm found her waist, and he pulled her closer.

He kissed her.

Under the cool water and the earthy taste of the river, she found the warmth of his lips and the flavor of him. His mouth covered hers and his hands pressed into her skin, but he held back. He didn’t move, he didn’t pull her any closer than she was. When they parted, he kept his eyes on her face. It was the first time she realized how deliberately he wasn’t looking at her bare bosom. 

He shook his head and swam back, breaking the connection between them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No,” Belle followed him. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing that I didn’t want.”

“But you are a lady,” he said. “And I’m--I’m the lowest of the low.”

“You’re a good man.” She reached out to touch his arm. “You’re gentle. You’re caring with your sheep and your son. You listen to me. My thoughts and ideas matter to you. That--that means more than birth or rank.”

He took her hand from his arm and held it in his own. The contrast between them was clear--soft and lilywhite against scarred and tanned--but it didn’t matter. Not when their spirits were so clearly equal and matched. 

Belle pulled herself up to him, keeping one hand in his but placing the other on the back of his head. She brought him down to her lips.

This kiss was longer, and sweeter, and more needful. They broke apart slowly, drifting away in the sluggish current. 

“A secret,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered. He seemed to be making up his mind. “We can have this, if it stays a secret. I don’t want to ruin you.”

“You couldn’t,” Belle answered. “Not in any way that really matters. But yes, this can be a secret, if that is what you want.”

“Please,” he said. “For your sake.”

“As you wish, Rumple.”

-

#rumbelle showdown #round two entry #author: Muenster Maven

[kaleidoscope-ize]

I’ve been thinking about my childhood this morning. I have this recurring feeling of having not had one, but I did. And it was a very full one.

I went to the river as often as I could. I once spent an entire summer biking miles to the river every day. Some days it felt like it was the only way I could think straight. I couldn’t get in the water if other people were in it though. I needed to be alone.

I put together yearly camping trips for my friends where we’d get high and play board games and make s’mores. I went to visit the campsite one last time before I moved from my hometown to find it had been sold and turned into an outfitter’s.

I lied about girlfriends. Ones who existed online. Ones I told my friends lived hours away. Ones who embodied so many things I wanted to be, back when I didn’t know how to articulate those thoughts. Didn’t every boy just want to date the girl they wish they could be?

I organized all-night movie marathons with cohesive themes and snacks and it was always so fun to see how they would derail. We never finished all of the movies I had planned, but I never minded. They were hosted at my girlfriend’s house. Those nights were some of the first times I had ever confronted my gender in an uncomfortable way. It was the first time my mom saw me in a dress.

I’d spend entire spring breaks at houses other than my own, looking for adventures with my friends and learning to love their parents as my own, temporary step-parents. It felt like I was getting to demo living a different life, which was fun to me even if I didn’t mind my own life.

I made cosplays for myself and my friends and went to a few conventions. Building the costumes was just as fun as showing them off.

I stayed up as late as I could, in Skype calls and Facebook group chats with my friends. I couldn’t get enough of them, even when they were mean to me.

I roleplayed in forums, in ask blogs, in private messages. More characters. More looking for myself in them.

I single-handedly started the D&D craze in my high school. What started as one group of me and my six friends soon had a waiting list of curious classmates. Watching them break off to teach themselves to play was so cool to me.

I had crushes, but no romance. Relationships that fizzled because neither of us knew how to develop them. Unrequited love from someone who was probably just as confused as I was. All people that I desperately needed validation from.

I was in band and drama, and put as much effort as I could into every school spirit week outfit. I was never not busy.

I often think of my childhood as lost time. Important films and shows I should have watched, romances I should have had, discoveries I should have made. There are days where I retreat into my nostalgia only to find an empty room. But when I really think about it, there wasn’t a single afternoon, weekend, or summer vacation that I wasn’t doing something with people I called my friends. I felt a disconnect from everything, but that didn’t stop me from constantly attempting to connect.

It was a childhood of reaching. A childhood of missed opportunities. But a childhood of experiences nonetheless.

#personal #my ramblings #nostalgia #tagging this as #pride #lgbtq+ #because in hindsight my struggles with gender shaped so many of my childhood decisions #also tagging this as #i saw the tv glow #because I blame this movie for making me think of these things #nonbinary #trans #transfem #idk where I was going with this… oh well

[an-abyss-of-stars]

☮ Rhaemond 70s Era Fic ☮

The year is 1978, 22yr old Rhaena Targaryen, is a singer/songwriter on tour in the States with her band Black Star. A folksy/bluesy rock band with music that rushes waves of ecstasy and ethereal beauty over whatever size crowd they play for. Rhaena graces the stage with all the grace and majesty of a fairy Princess or a glorious Goddess-like enchantress. Silver tresses and colourful flowing cape-like gowns that twirl and spiral with her every move, her sleeves hang like wings and flow as such as she spins and glides across the stage. She's known for losing herself in her music, as if she leaves her body on the stage and ascends to a higher place, her voice hypnotizing and mesmerizing her audience.

She's a marvel.

She's unreal.

A must see live.

With songs that spoke of mythical tales, dragons and burning lands, magic and royalty. And yet the song that was topping the charts recently was about a tortured lover, a dark figure who could not be shaken no matter how hard she tried. It was a song that left her screaming soaring notes out into the air, with so much anguish and internal rot, her rasping notes playing on par with the ripping final guitar solo.

And yet, the effervescent Rhaena Targaryen was not romantically tied to anyone, as far as the public knew.

They couldn't place the man she spoke of, but her emotional tale still ripped at the audience just right, connecting the feeling and the emotion...an unrequited love gone wrong.

An aggressively beautiful voice paired with the perfect music backing her. With a band that consisted with her as their lead vocalist, her twin sister Baela as both vocals and their lead guitarist, their half-sister Aemma as the keyboardist as well providing backing vocals with her other half-sister Aerea their bassist. Rounding out the band were Rhaena's two cousins, Aegon as their drummer and Daeron as their 2nd guitarist.

Black Star as a band and their music, was a growing sensation. So much so that Rolling Stones magazine had sent their very best writer to cover them, someone who reluctantly knew the genre well...knew the band even better...and after analyzing the lyrics, was quite certain he knew who that popular song was really about...

In 1978, 24yr old Aemond Targaryen, had worked his way up the writers ranks at Rolling Stones magazine. He'd always been an avid lover of music and culture, and while he could hold his own decently enough on guitar, it was more of a private activity as opposed to a career path. No, his talents lay on the written page, with his added photography skills. In his time at Rolling Stones he'd had the opportunity to interview some of the best the 70s had to offer. From Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham from Fleetwood Mac, Ozzy Osbourne and Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath, Dio, Buck Dharma of Blue Öyster Cult and even Donna Summer.

He'd worked his way from covering lower up and coming musicians and bands to meeting some of the greats. So it was to his surprise and slight disappointment when his chief editor slapped down a newspaper on his desk that read in bold letters "Black Star Shooting All The Way To The Top" and asked him to immediately jump on the task.

Maybe it was because he hadn't heard that band name in years...ignored it purposely for 4 years to be exact. Maybe it was because the moment his brothers had told him they were moving to Germany to "solidify their sound-" he stopped listening all together. Burning at the fact that his pretty little cousin...the one woman he wanted to stay within his orbit...was moving across the world to a whole nother continent, let alone country, just to get away from him.

Possibly it was because Aemond had been the one who fucked all it up to begin with. He'd been an idiot then, told her he loved in a letter...only for her to drive up just to see him making up with his on again off again girlfriend, Alys Rivers.

Rhaena had never let him explain, she wouldn't hear a word of the truth, the fact that Alys had practically lunged onto him, kissed like it would be forever. Only to turn around and dump him the week afterwards, Alys had said it was because "his heart wasn't in it", and truthfully it never was...

Only, Rhaena was back. And now there was a song playing on the radio, one that seared through him as it practically detailed the whole of their backforth relationship. There were technically three songs about him to be exact, although the other two seemed far more covert in their delivery. And now he was being forced to follow her...and the band…on their tour for their final 3 shows. Rolling Stones wanted it all, close and personal candid shots, interviews with the whole band, but most importantly he was meant to shine a light on their mysterious enchanting lead singer. To have her decode the songs and lyrics on their latest record.

If Aemond could look past the bitter sting of regret and the annoyance of how fate seemed to be weaving his life around. Then maybe he could see this for what it was, an opportunity to win her back...just maybe…

#aemond x rhaena #rhaena x aemond #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #rhaena targaryen #rhaemond #modern au Rhaemond #i have absolutely NO idea when I'll actually start writing this 😂😂 #but i really dig the concept #so hopefully this rather long synopsis is good enough for now 😂😂 #i also couldn't narrow myself down to 1 or 2 mood boards SO i used 3 😂 #like i haven't entirely nailed down the character looks i want for this one? #like do they have regular Targaryen/Valyrian features in this? #do they have regular hair colours and 70s era hairstyles? #many questions 😂😂