#He made his feelings clear and she continued to pursue him

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Never Again | Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhys has been too caught up in his work lately, not giving you any of his time. After forgetting the date you'd both scheduled tonight, that was the last straw, and you go out with Azriel instead, only for Rhys to plead for your forgiveness.

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

Warnings: Nothing really, just feeling unloved ig🤷‍♀️

A/N: This was such a good req from anon, I love making powerful men grovel at their woman’s feet, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

However, after he argued with Azriel, the topic again being about Elain (Azriel was still trying to pursue her despite the fact she was traumatized and recovering), he was burying himself in his work to try and get his mind off of it, also getting his mind off of you.

The two of you had agreed on a date night tonight, a night out at a restaurant you’d made reservations for weeks ahead.

However, you’d gotten all dressed up in a dress you knew made him go crazy, it was tight in the right places and all in Night Court colors, kohl on your eyelids that Mor had helped apply, nails freshly done, jewelry polished and on, and he still hadn’t left his office.

He’d forgotten.

This was probably the fifth time this week he had forgotten about something the two of you planned together, and you were getting sick of it. So instead of going into his office and begging for even a scrap of your mate’s attention, you decided that he could beg for your attention for once.

You blocked out the bond completely, and no sound of surprise came from his office, no worry, nothing. Tears welled in your eyes, angry, pissed-off tears that you wiped away as you regained your composure, winnowing to the House of Wind, walking quietly up the stairs, and knocking on Azriel’s door.

He opened the door, his gaze looking you up and down. He was dressed well enough for the occasion, in casually expensive clothes. Everyone knew the shadowsinger was rich.

“We’re going out tonight.”

You announced simply, slipping your arm around his and walking away. He seemed quite bewildered, but took it in stride and walked alongside you, his mind slowly putting the pieces together.

“He forgot.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. One he was only waiting for you to confirm, even if he already knew it was true. You gave a nod, descending the flights of stairs with him in hand.

“Again.”

You then said, the distaste clear in your voice. The shadows crept up on your fingers in gentle caresses, as if trying to soothe you in your angered, upset state. Azriel’s gaze barely changed, but a hint of empathy entered it.

You winnowed the both of you into the streets of Velaris, Azriel not seeming the slightest bit perturbed by it as he continued walking, somehow knowing exactly the restaurant that you and Rhys were supposed to be attending.

It wasn’t that unusual, you knew. His shadows often told him every little detail they managed to scrape up from the streets of Velaris.

“I have a reservation for two.”

You told the female up front, and she nodded, before leading the two of you to the table. Azriel sat down next to you, silently offering comfort.

You both ordered, the meal coming quickly as usual with this particular restaurant.

Azriel hesitated, before speaking.

“He loves you, you know.”

You sighed through your nose, swallowing the bite of your meal.

“I know that, but he’s just been burying himself in his work. He won’t even spend time with me anymore. More than half of the time I’m going to bed alone.”

Azriel gave you a sympathetic look as you leaned into him, savoring the warmth his body gave off, the warmth you should’ve been getting from your mate. Azriel let you lean into him, one hand going around your waist, the touch respectful but comforting as the two of you ate your food in silence.

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

Rhysand, High Lord of Night Court, had completely forgotten.

He’d been busy with his work, and the alarm he had set had gone off, and he’d told himself “one more minute” if he could just get through these documents….

The room was blissfully quiet, his mind completely focused and empty, only the faint buzzing of his lamp distracting him. He needed to get that fixed.

That was when it hit him.

His mind was empty. None of your thoughts or emotions in his head, absolutely no sign of you at all through the bond. That sent him into a panic.

Had something happened? Was he not there to protect you? He checked the time and —

Oh gods, thirty minutes had passed in what felt like five. He was thirty minutes late for your date, and you had probably been so pissed that you’d blocked out the bond completely. Not that he blamed you, he’d been a colossal asshole, not giving you nearly enough attention or care the past few weeks.

Within seconds, he’d winnowed straight into the restaurant, the staff not questioning him as he’d walked briskly over to your table, only to see a sight that made his blood boil but also his heartache.

You, sitting with his brother, his hand around your waist, on that pretty purple and black dress, as you leaned into him. Azriel looked calmly up at him, but a hint of anger was in his eyes as if saying, “you should be ashamed of yourself.”

The anger in his eyes was nothing compared to yours, going from sadness to anger in seconds as you caught sight of him, the bond only opening enough for waves of anger to flood over him from your end.

“Finally decided to show up?”

Your voice snapped as you glared at him. He didn’t want to cause a scene. Not here, not now.

Azriel had already stalked off, shadows whirling around him before he’d disappeared. Rhys reached for you, having just enough contact to winnow you and him into your shared bedroom.

“Why did you go with him?”

He asked back, a foolish anger in his voice. He saw you bristle at his tone, anger shooting through the bond on both ends, tears welling in your eyes. Tears he knew were more of anger than sadness.

“At least he pays attention to me, you should take some notes, Rhysand.”

You snapped, and a bit of his heart shattered at that moment. His arms reached out for you, and you huffed, the bond finally opening up again as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close until you stopped struggling, and just began crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, darling.”

He murmured into your ears, hands deftly pulling your jewelry off, carefully grabbing tissues to wipe the tears from your eyes, as well as the makeup that the tears loosened enough to wipe off.

“I should’ve paid more attention to you, I’m sorry.”

He said, clearly pleading and begging for your forgiveness, for any sign that you might forgive him in the next few weeks. You sniffled, looking up at him.

“Please, forgive me, darling. I’ll worship the ground you walk on if you want me to.”

He said, his arms reaching out for something, and it was only when he gently slipped your dress off and helped you into a pair of your favorite sleeping shorts, and his shirt, smothered in his scent, that you realized you didn’t care about revenge or making him jealous, you just wanted to spend time with you mate.

He, too, seemed to realize this as he pulled his shirt and pants off, dimming the lights as he eased into bed alongside you, cradling you to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

As the both of you soon seemed to drift off together, his arms around you, wing draped around your body and holding you impossibly close, he whispered one last thing into your ear.

“Never again.”

[dollypopup]

"Then what good am I to you?"

have y'all ever considered that, yes, whilst Penelope has loved him for a very long time. . .she has not shown that to him? that she has not made it clear to him in any way? already, all he feels he is good for is providing because of how he grew up, a chronic middle child vying for attention, receiving positivity when he brings levity or cracks a joke or brings a gift or demonstrates a kindness? that the people pleaser in him feels he has to provide a dance or a laugh or ease or even just stepping to the side so he isn't a bother? have y'all considered that he was straight up ghosted for months? so when he *could not* provide anything, he was cast aside and forgotten? even by her?

have y'all considered that Colin has the idea that if he is not doing something for someone, they have no use for him, and so must be shown that is not true? that he feels he doesn't deserve forgiveness or time unless he has something of worth to offer as leverage for it? that all of the ways Penelope has cared for him have been from afar?

Penelope needed to know that Colin loves her, so he chases down her carriage. So he professes his feelings on his knees. So he strips her bare in front of a mirror to show her- see what I see, you're beautiful. So he informs her own MOTHER that he loves her and she can't talk smack about his future wife. He has so many big gestures for her to make her understand he's serious about her, and that she matters to him for who she is, no strings attached. He apologizes for hurting her feelings after she tells him off, he offers her his help in building her confidence, he helps her family in Season 2, expecting nothing in return, and even in Season 1, he professes how good she is.

But from his perspective. . .he did not even KNOW Penelope had feelings for him when he raced off after her to beg her not to marry someone else. As far as he knew, she considered them friends, and even under the willow, she told him distance would be best after they kissed. She didn't reply to his letters on his travels. She showed him that their intimacy didn't affect her the way it affected him because she continued to pursue a different engagement. She had even said their kiss wouldn't mean anything and when he says he cannot stop thinking of it, she does not assure that it meant a great deal to her, too. She informs that she wants to be more than friends, but nothing else. What is he meant to think? Even if she says she has loved him for a long time, he's been told before that someone loves him. . .and then it ended up not being true.

Penelope has waited for years, since she first met him, to love him in the light, and she has an opportunity in Part 2 to do so. To show Colin that she loves him: assuredly, fervently, loudly.

And I, for one, cannot fucking WAIT to see it.

[divinesolas]

Hi, how are you? A Headcanon of what it would be like to be Jacaerys' second wife (Baela being the first) and to spice it up a bit, the reader being the daughter Alicent

a.n: made this a lot more angsty (even tho its like not) as intended lmao but i hope you enjoy 🫶🫶

- baela had died during childbirth, her daughter having survived

- the first time you spoke to him since his wedding was at the funeral, which he barely said more than a word to you, cradling his daughter tightly in his arms

- you two were the best of friends as children

- you have loved him since you were a young girl and was devastated to hear of their engagement

- you begged and begged your mother to betroth you to him but she continued to refuse until it had been too late

- they loved each other so much which broke your heart

- you fled westeros as soon as the wedding had ended, choosing to instead spend your days in essos trying to forget about the dark eyed prince

- yet when you return he is only more handsome then when you had left

- you stay as far away from him as possible, he was so clearly grieving and you had not wished to disturb him

- you thought that would be it so late in the night with bag and hand you try to leave only to be shocked at the sight of jacaerys standing in the empty hall, clutching his cloak around himself as he stared at you

- he begged you not to go, to return to the keep with him even if its just for a little while

- it was so clear he needed someone so you agreed with much hesitation

- you tell yourself you will only stay for a week

- then a week becomes two then two becomes a month then a month becomes a year becomes two and suddenly you are living full time in the keep

- You two become close friends and you continue pushing down that deep deep feeling in your heart as you believe he will never feel the same

- yet one night you stand in the nursery, sitting on the floor giggling with the young laena who hits the blocks against each other until jacaerys shows up

- he urges a maid to come and put laena down to bed, you insist you can do it but he asks you to stay

- that is the night he kisses you for the first time

- you stop him just as quickly believing it to be a heat of the moment act

- “i did not think you would be so cruel. you must know of my affections.”

- “i am in love with you.”

- Your wedding happens a fortnight from then

- your mother was furious, she had wished for you to marry someone, someone that was not of his kind she said

- and you blew up on her

- he had heard you and as soon as you had stormed out of the room he pulled you into a dark corridor and kissed you until your legs were shaking, for more then one reason

- his family was more then happy to welcome you into their side, you became fast friends with lucerys and joffrey and due to your experience in taking care of laena you help out with aegon and viserys which puts you in the good graces of daemon

- your family however was way more reluctant about your union, taking this opportunity to tease you about your marriage to the “strong” boy. your grandsire had even managed to corner you and attempt to pursued you to break off the engagement to which you quickly shut that down

- you did not care much for your familys feelings when you were more than happy

- your wedding went smoothly and you ended up having a mini honeymoon period in dragonstone where in a few months time you and jacaerys would be living

- when he had been informed you were pregnant three moons after your wedding he turned pale

- he even begun to flat out ignore you until you confronted him and told him you would not tolerate this and he snapped out of it

- he was scared. so scared he would have to suffer through the same pain he had those years ago but you reassured him everything would be okay

- though when you were laying on the bed covered in sweat and breathing heavily he was not too sure

- he demanded he be in the room, not allowing himself to make the same mistake as last time

- he let you grip his hand so hard he thought it would pop but it was not enough to distract him from the fear he felt as he looked at you, the women he was so in love with, in so much pain

- when cries fill the room and a babe is placed in your arms he finally allows himself to cry, you had a boy.

- He snarled at the maesters when they tried to put him in his arms first or when they asked him what he would like to name him

- he was furious at the disrespect you were facing but you did not care.

- “what about laenor?” You look up at him and smile

- he places a kiss on your forehead as he beams down at the babe. “its perfect.”

---

not tagging my perm taglist just cause this is something rlly small 😭😭

[katakaluptastrophy]

Continuing to think about the horror of what happens to John, and the horrors of love...

When Alecto has first been created, she says to him "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" and "What have you done to me?"

They're heartbreaking questions she has every right to ask, but there's something awful and ironic about them too. Because John also might have asked "what have you done to me?"

It's easy to get distracted by the cartoonish awfulness of John's own narration: "talk about police abuse", "come on, love. Guys as careful as me don't have accidents," "love a working tram system." But all of these comments come after moments where John has unwittingly come into proximity with violent death, an experience he repeatedly likens to having drugs forcibly injected into him; an omniscient, dream-like, out of body experience that seems to propel him forward through his basest impulses. The first time this happens, he's brought back from "the verge of something insane" by being shaken violently by P-. Lines like these aren't revealing John's diabolical plotting. They're a man who would rather own atrocities as premeditated than admit that he was losing his grip.

The second is when he encounters the soul of the earth. His human mind makes contact with the incoherent, furious soul of a planet. In any other context, this would be straightforwardly Lovecraftian. And everything he describes after that is full of elipses, jumbled, and detached. His friends are shot by gun-toting cultists and he says it was like a dream.

Hearing the earth screaming, feeling his friends' deaths under his skin like a drug, he might well have asked "what have you done to me?"

Alecto said to him, "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" But as everything collapses, John says:

"I thought you were going to take me, somehow. Purge me. Use me as an instrument. But you didn't say anything...I was babbling, Show me. Come on. I'm ready. You kept screaming and screaming..."

John has spent months becoming something terrifying, an entity with yellow eyes and uncanny powers. He's discovered that death has an overwhelming impact on him that he cannot fully control. Everyone was relying on him to do something. And he did so many things: well-meaning things and stupid things and things that were lashing out in rage and frustration. Hundreds of people have died because of him. His friends have died because of him. Surely, surely there was a point to this. Surely there was meaning. Surely whatever did this to him, made him into this, had a greater plan.

But there is no plan. There is no great revelation. He tries to hurt the earth, to provoke some kind of answer, but the screaming continues. And when P dies, the person who snapped him out of it the last time, John lets go and the whole world dies.

John is kneeling on the grass vomiting up dirt and tearing out his own ribs, saying "there was still too much of me that was just a human being...", trying to swallow the soul of the earth. And by the end, the one shred he has to hold onto is a memory of playing with a doll as a child. That, and his anger...

The earth tried to reach out in the only way it could, amidst its incoherent suffering. And John tried to use the abilities it gave him, but he was only human. Fallible and proud and angry.

She said, "I still love you." And the horror; the horror of love, the horror of this story, is that to begin with they did this to each other.

To be clear: I don't mean to diminish the awfulness or the very specific forms that John's violence against Alecto takes, and continues to take across the story. I don't mean to excuse his own self-mythologisation. I certainly don't think he's blameless for the decisions he made and the agenda he pursued. But if there's one thing that happens over and over again in TLT, it's that the horror of love is not a one-way street.

And I wonder, in light of what we now know about the permeability of the soul, quite where John ends and Alecto begins. And when that blurring began...

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 5

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You were deep in conversation with Greg, discussing the next move, when suddenly, you were called to Steve’s office. As you entered, you noticed Steve and Bucky sitting with serious expressions.

“What?” you asked, feeling a twinge of anxiety as both men locked eyes on you the moment you walked in.

Steve exchanged a glance with Bucky before he spoke up. "We found a comment that mentioned our divorce," Bucky said, his voice low.

“Oh,” you replied, crossing your arms defensively. “Does it also mention how you kidnapped me?”

Bucky chuckled, a small smile playing on his lips. “The things I’d do to bring you home.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to be swayed by his charm.

“When we separated, did you ever tell anyone about our divorce?” Bucky’s tone grew more serious as he leaned forward, searching your eyes for the truth.

“Me?” You raised an eyebrow, the memory of Caroline’s threat flashing in your mind. “Did you forget that your mother threatened me not to tell anyone?”

The tension in the room thickened as you spoke. Caroline had made it clear she didn’t want the divorce to be public knowledge. She wanted you as far away from Bucky as possible, and she had the power to make it happen.

You’d learned quickly that fighting her was futile. Every news station and newspaper in the country had mysteriously closed their doors to you after the separation, leaving you with no choice but to pursue a career as an independent international journalist.

“That woman is ambitious as hell,” you muttered under your breath. Caroline’s wealth and connections were unmatched, and she wasn’t afraid to use them. She had even used Julius’s money to secure people who would do her bidding. Once you left the country, it seemed she lost interest in you, allowing you to continue your work in relative peace.

Working alone as a journalist in foreign countries had its challenges, but it also opened your eyes to the world. You found purpose in being a voice for the unfortunate, using your platform to shed light on the truth. Along the way, you met new friends, formed new connections, but you never let slip the truth about your marriage or divorce. The scars left on your heart were too deep, and the thought of trusting another man terrified you.

'What’s the point of having a husband if he can’t protect and defend me? you thought bitterly, the pain still fresh.

But perhaps, in a moment of vulnerability, you’d let a clue slip. You couldn’t lie to fellow journalists; they had a way of sensing the truth.

“What about your family?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at Bucky. “Don’t just point fingers at me.”

For Bucky, the divorce was never acknowledged. He even burned the documents in the fireplace, a secret known only to him and God.

His parents, especially Caroline, were too embarrassed to admit their golden child had been divorced, while Julius, who never agreed with the divorce in the first place, remained silent.

Shawn, his oldest brother, was too high to care, and Hazel never bothered with such matters.

“It wasn’t my side either,” Bucky said, his voice steady as he locked eyes with you.

“Suit yourself,” you replied, your tone laced with a mixture of defiance and resignation.

“Sooner or later, the person who wrote it will show up,” Bucky added, his voice calm but carrying a cold edge.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, a flicker of unease crossing your face.

Bucky merely shrugged, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “If they take too long, I’ll use my way to find them.”

A chill ran down your spine at his words, the threat lingering in the air. You knew what he was capable of, and the thought of him resorting to his methods sent a shiver of fear through you.

Steve, sensing the tension, stepped in, patting Bucky’s shoulder in a calming gesture. “Let the cyber team do their job. We don’t need you taking any extreme measures, especially with the convention so close.”

Steve understood Bucky better than most. While Bucky might present a soft, composed exterior, inside he was a beast—a man unafraid to take risks, to do whatever it took, especially when it came to you. The lengths he would go to protect what was his were both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

But Steve also knew the stakes. If the truth got out—that the future Vice President’s family, particularly Bucky's mother, had abused his wife to the point of divorce, and that the wife, thought to be widowed, had been kidnapped before the election—it would destroy the perfect image the Barnes family had worked so hard to maintain.

And it wouldn’t just affect Bucky; it would drag you down with him.

It would be the scandal of the century.

That’s why, before it could escalate, they had to find the source.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Barnes family gathered in the opulent conference room, tension crackling in the air like a live wire. Everyone was present, except for Shawn, who, as usual, was nowhere to be found.

Greg stood at the head of the table, flipping through his notes. “Well, after the Rogers family makes their appearance, it’s time for the Barnes to take the stage.”

“Of course,” Caroline chimed in, her voice sharp with authority. “All of us need to be up there.”

“Me too?” you asked, directing your question to Greg.

“Yes,” Bucky interjected before Greg could respond. “We’ve prepared the ramp for Tim’s wheelchair.”

Before you could even register the thoughtfulness behind Bucky’s statement, Caroline’s voice sliced through the room, dripping with venom. “No. It will ruin the balance. Everyone else can stand on their feet. While…”

“You know what? I hope you die and rot in hell!” you snapped, your voice ringing with years of pent-up anger.

The room froze, every head snapping in your direction. Caroline’s eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Did… Did you hear that? She cursed me!”

You didn’t back down, the rage pouring out of you like a dam breaking. “So you’d rather parade your cocaine-addicted son who crashed his car and killed someone than show my brother who, despite losing a leg, works tirelessly from nine to five?”

Caroline was too stunned to reply, her face draining of color. Bucky, though usually stoic, couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. “You’re out of line, Mom. Tim is her only family left.”

Hazel, normally indifferent, nodded in agreement. “This time, I’m with them.”

Caroline, her voice trembling with indignation, shot back, “Is this how you treat your own mother?”

“No, Carol,” Julius said, his voice cold and cutting, “this is what we call karma.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he fought to control the emotions boiling beneath the surface. “She’s been in the same position as you,” he said, a lump forming in his throat as memories of his mother’s cruelty resurfaced. “You only felt that sting for three minutes, but my wife endured it for years.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed, her fury now directed squarely at you. Her face flushed with rage, and you could almost see the steam rising from her ears. “So what? You want me to apologize?”

You met her gaze without flinching, your voice icy. “No. I don’t need your apology. It wouldn’t be enough to cover the pain I’ve suffered because of you. And honestly? I’d feel relieved if you died. If someone could confirm you’re burning in hell, it’d be the best news I’ve heard in years.”

Caroline, still believing she was the true victim, stormed out of the room, her heels clicking angrily on the marble floor. Julius and Hazel exchanged a glance before following her, leaving a tense silence in their wake.

Bucky watched them go, his fists clenched at his sides. He turned to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were feeling. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening for the first time that day.

You shook your head, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. “I don’t know. It felt good to finally say what I’ve been holding in, but it doesn���t erase everything she’s done.”

Bucky nodded, stepping closer to you. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone. I should’ve stood up for you sooner.”

You looked up at him, the tension between you both palpable. “It’s too late for regrets, Bucky. We’ve both been through hell. The only thing that matters now is what we do next.”

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “Then let’s make sure this doesn’t break us.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Before the convention starts, the air buzzes with the anticipation of the event. As you stand in the corner of the vast convention hall, adjusting your outfit, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn and see Ian, the British journalist you’ve met a few times before. His tousled hair and easy smile make him stand out in the crowd.

“Ian!” you greet him, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “What are you doing here?”

Ian chuckles, clearly pleased to see you. “I’m here to cover the election, of course. But, honestly, I jumped at the chance to come because I knew you’d be here.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “So, you flew all the way out here just for me?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My boss didn’t believe me when I said I knew you. I had to show him a picture of us together just to convince him.”

You laugh again, feeling the warmth of his presence. “Well, I’m glad you made it. It’s been a while.”

As you and Ian catch up, the conversation flows easily, your shared ideas and interests making the time fly by. He tells you about his latest assignments, and you share some of your recent experiences. The banter between you is light and effortless, the kind that comes naturally with someone you’re comfortable with.

But then, you sense a shift in the air, and before you can react, Bucky appears at your side. He’s polite, as always, his smile perfectly in place, but you can sense the underlying tension in his posture. His eyes dart between you and Ian, and although he doesn’t say it, you know he’s not thrilled about the easy rapport between you and the British journalist.

“Hi,” Bucky says, his voice calm but laced with something you can’t quite place. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just thought I’d come by and check in.”

Ian extends his hand to Bucky with a friendly smile. “Ian, nice to meet you.”

Bucky shakes his hand, his grip a bit firmer than necessary. “Likewise. I’ve heard a bit about you.”

There’s a brief, almost imperceptible moment of silence, where you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. His polite smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you can tell he’s itching to separate you from Ian.

“Well,” Ian says, oblivious to the tension, “I should get going. Need to find my spot before the chaos begins.” He turns to you, his smile warm and genuine. “Let’s catch up properly after this?”

You nod, still smiling. “Definitely. See you around, Ian.”

As Ian walks away, Bucky’s gaze follows him, his jaw tightening slightly. Once Ian is out of sight, Bucky’s shoulders relax, but only a fraction. He turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“You two seem close,” Bucky says, his voice carefully neutral, but you don’t miss the hint of something more beneath the surface.

“We’ve met a few times,” you reply casually, though you can sense Bucky’s unease.

He nods, but his eyes narrow slightly, as if something about Ian doesn’t sit right with him. Deep down, Bucky’s instincts are on high alert. There’s something about Ian—something he can’t quite put his finger on—that doesn’t add up. And as much as he tries to push it aside, the feeling gnaws at him, making him wonder if Ian’s presence here is as innocent as it seems.

Join the tag list:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@krissydclayton93

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@lassie-bird

@bighappypiels

@buckitostan

@barnesxstan

@bada-lee-ily

@mrsstuckyboo

@florie1

@cjand10

@sidraaaaaaaaa

@aritoocute

@preeyansha

@crazyunsexycool

@hi172826

@mcira

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@pattiemac1

@elizalexwil

@gingersnap-2

@whitexwolfxx310

@marvel-wifey-86

@kumointhesky

@hnnhbananananana

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@nouis-bum

@vioplay19

@thebuckybarnesvault

@unaxv

@hzdhrtss

@blackbirdwitch22

@darsynia

@lokislady82

@bonkybarnes106

@kandis-mom

@imrandomstuffsblog

@chimchoom

@wintrsoldrluvr

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@sebastians-love

@kythefangirl25

@mrsnikstan

@identity2212

@justsebstan

[mommageto]

Domestic Hashira (Himejima Gyomei x Reader)

Title: Domestic Hashira (Himejima Gyomei x Reader)

Word Count:  2120 words

Description: (Y/n) and Gyomei navigating the unfamiliar territory of an arranged marriage. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

“He shall arrive shortly,” Amane mumbled as she sat beside you. You took a deep breath and assured yourself that you have prepared yourself for this day. Being a distant relative of Kagaya Ubuyashiki, you were destined to marry and expected to produce an heir. Thus, you knew this marriage was not from a love match, but rather an arranged marriage to ensure the heirs of your bloodline of any curses. Ever since you lost both of your parents at an early age, it did feel lonely only having distant relatives around you. A part of you was nervous about meeting the man you to spend your life with. You were embellished with a beautiful wedding garment and patiently waiting for the man you are bound to marry. There were little to no expectations for your husband to be, but rather a kind man at the very least. 

The door opened where Kagaya Ubuyashiki came in, followed by a huge man who towers at seven foot two, spiky dark hair, and covered with numerous crimson mala beads. A horizontal scar on his forehead and pale white eyes also has allowed you to be surprised at the appearance of the man. “Shall we start with the ceremony?” Ubuyashiki asked. Both of them made their way near you. Ubuyashiki found his way to sit at the opposite side of Amane as the stranger you ought to marry sat beside you. Though, you noticed his manners as he acknowledged your presence by bowing to you as he was sitting beside you.

The man is huge, very huge. This idea of him scared you a little, but you were not one to judge on a stranger you’re about to spend your life with. Though, he was attractive and unfamiliar. After the ceremony, both of you did exchange a word with each other. Although Amane has filled you in with everything you need to know about your husbands. Himejima Gyomei–that is his name–is the stone hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps. Though you are an Ubuyashiki, you were least involved with the Demon Slayer Corps as you were a distant relative and did other duties for the family. The information you got made you think that the man you married must be really strong as he is the strongest hashira. However, Amane never talked about how he is as a person, she focused on his qualifications which only enabled you to hope that he is indeed a kind man.

Both of you were brought to your household to start your family. As you arrived at your shared home, you found it a bit awkward considering he is a stranger. Nevertheless, you were taught to be a wife and ought to pursue a conversation with him to properly tend with your husband.  The silence after you both spoke at the same time stretched, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets outside. You stole a glance at Gyomei, his face unreadable beneath the stoic mask. Clearing your throat, you decided to take the plunge.

“I–” both of you uttered and cut off each other. “I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt. Please, go ahead,” Himejima continues. A short silence occurred between the both of you. 

“Hiimejim–” he cuts you off before you can finish, “Gyomei. You can call me Gyomei.” A light flickered in your eyes as you stared at him with awe.

"Gyomei," you repeated, testing the name on your lips. He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Shall we enter?” you ask him. He gave you a sly nod and led you to enter the house you shared with him first. As you entered, the servants greeted you both and toured you around your home. They also had prepared a separate bath for you and your husband before you met each other for dinner. 

In the bath, you pondered about the things you’ve observed to be quite beguiling about your husband. You admit to yourself that there is a feeling of attraction with Himejima. That man had intimidating features that portrayed a very masculine form of a man. Despite your first impression, you can tell that Himejima has a compassionate nature. He was kind and respectful to the servants who greeted you both earlier. There’s still more you want to know about him and getting to know him will surely scratch that itch. 

Dinner was served afterwards in your bath. You and your husband finished your meal with a small conversation about how your meal was delicious. Though, the night is still long–or feels like it. Both of you entered the chambers of your shared bedroom. It felt awkward being alone with Himejima. Although both of you are married, both of you are also still strangers who barely met each other just this morning. You saw the beddings in the room and it made you feel nervous about sleeping next to him which caused you to breathe heavily allowing the giant man to hear. “(Y/n), I could sleep in another room if it makes you feel better,” you hear Himejima speak.  

Himejima's offer hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. In his face, you could see his genuine concern matched with the intimidating aura he always has with him. It was a gesture of respect, a recognition of your discomfort. “N-no…it’s fine. You don’t have to do that,” you assured him.

The two of you settled on sleeping in the same room. Thus, peacefully set up your sleeping area not far away from each other but also not near each other. It was difficult to be asleep at that hour as you were clouded with a number of emotions as you were new to this set up. The anxious feeling of sleeping with a man you just met today lingered in your thoughts. You didn’t know what to do at this point but to sleep as it was getting late anyway. “Good night (y/n).”

“Good night, Gyomei.” His words made you feel better as you still felt new to this situation. A simple good night makes you more comfortable with this arrangement.You got to sleep shortly after that. The dawn of time passed, you heard noises and slightly opened your eyes wherein you saw shadows. However, due to your thoughts depriving you of sleep the previous night, you gave in to yourself and slept through the dawn. 

As you rose from the bed, you noticed the room was unusually quiet. There was no sound of movement or the faintest whisper. You looked around your room and noticed that the bed beside you was nowhere to be seen. The absence of Himejima's towering figure was both comforting and unsettling. You went to the kitchen and were greeted by the servants who informed you that your husband was called on early for a mission. This made you feel disappointed because you wanted to get to know Himejima and spend time with him. 

The servants informed you that Himejima had to leave early for an urgent mission with a demon attack on a neighboring village. It’s been three days without the presence of your husband near you. This made you feel lonely despite having people around your home. Not a day goes by that you do not have the same routine. After eating your breakfast alone, you decided to pay Amane a visit to ease that lonely feeling.

“(Y/n), how was your first night with Himejima-san?” she asks as she sat down beside you. You took a pause and tried to hold back from being honest with yourself. “It was alright, I was able to sleep comfortably after yesterday.”

Amane was able to read the misery drawn in your face. She did not feel too good about this so she questions you more. “Are you sure it was alright? You seem to be tired and sorrowful.”

“Oh, no it’s really fine.” She wasn’t convinced with your answer. “I hope Himejima-san was gentle to say the least.”

This shattered a glass of idea, Amane was thinking of a different scenario of you spending your first night with Himejima. “What? No! It’s nothing like that. We didn’t do it.” You were defensive about it and you could feel your face heat up despite it being just the two of you in the room.

The response you gave Amane surprised her. The idea of a newly wed couple spending the first night with each other in a venereal manner was fairly common. Though you’ve never really thought about it as you and Himejima quickly dismissed that possibility rather quickly.

“(Y/n), have you and Himejima ever had an actual conversation about your marriage to say the least?” Amane questions you. Now that question has been raised, you never really have thought about it. “We barely said a word to each other and the other morning he left for an urgent mission.”

“Is that so? While I do not encourage you to force yourself with Himejima, I think it is best that you both have a conversation about your marriage with him. Since you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with him.”

Amane’s words struck in your head from the moment she mentioned it to you until your journey home. One of the servants, Chiaki, approached to welcome you home. “Welcome back, my lady,” she slightly bows, “Would you care to join Himejima-san for dinner?” 

Chiaki’s words caught your attention. As you walked inside your house, you felt a sudden pain in your stomach and had an urge to vomit. Your vision was less clear–it was shaky. Another body pain hit you, you felt the pain reach your temples and your calves. Though, you manage to reach the dining area.

The heavy wooden table creaked slightly under the weight of the untouched meal. You sat opposite of Himejima with your face pale and drawn. You covered your mouth with haste as you felt the urge to vomit again. Himejima, with his other perfect senses, noticed that you didn’t feel okay. 

“Is everything alright (y/n)?” he asks, trying to reach out to help you. Himejima could clearly tell that your body has collapsed on the ground. His powerful frame moved with surprising speed as he reached you, his large hands gently cradling your head. Concern etched itself onto his face as he assessed your condition.

A throbbing pain pulsed in your temples, and a wave of nausea washed over you. Your vision blurred as consciousness slowly returned. With effort, your eyes opened, the world coming into focus gradually. You were in your bed, the soft glow of lanterns casting dancing shadows on the walls. Himejima was seated beside you, his face etched with worry. 

“Gyomei,” you call out his name. “What happened?”

A relief from Himejima can be felt as he lifts his head with his softened face and relaxed face. "(Y/n), you're awake," he replied. "A demon followed you and attacked you secretly with its poison.” Your head throbbed with a dull ache as you tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You reached out a trembling hand to steady yourself on the bed.

"A demon?" you managed to croak out, your voice hoarse. 

“Yes, a demon. Thankfully I was able to take home an antidote for the demon’s poison.” You listened to Himejima’s words with an understanding even though there’s still a slight concern in his face. “I apologize that I got you into this trouble. Being married to me only caused you trouble.” A wave of empathy washed over you as you watched Himejima's tears fall. Gyomei is known to be the strongest hashira with his immense strength, but in this moment, vulnerability replaced his usual composure.

"Gyomei," you reached out, your hand finding his, offering comfort. "It wasn't your fault. These things happen." Your voice was gentle, filled with sincerity. 

"It was also my responsibility for not being here to protect you," he explained, his voice husky with emotion. His grip on your hand tightened, conveying a depth of remorse you hadn't expected. “Well, we’re here together now,” you say to him with a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you try to lighten the mood.

"Let's start over, (y/n)," he reached out to you and kissed your forehead. A warmth spread through you as his lips touched your skin. It was a simple gesture, yet it held a profound weight. You returned his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. It felt like an answered prayer from a yearning heart. That forehead kiss is a lingering faith of the couple for their relationship to bloom.

This story has a Part 2.

[savannahsdeath]

thinking about dealer!ellie, but not the college-little one . . . one, that an innocent girl like you sees on a dark alley and she can't help but instinctively start walking faster. yet, it turns out, she's really a sweetheart when you give her a chance <3

warnings: daddy issues kinda ?? ellie can seem creepy at first but i swear she's not .. thats all for now

you explored the darkest part of the city, the moonlight not brightening your way at all. you felt lost.

you always defined yourself as fatherless, it was the easiest way to explain the lack of a parent — people thought he died and didn't pursue the topic. after some time passed, you started believing your own lie. deep down, in a strangled part of your brain, you knew he's alive and well. but on the other hand, he wasn't — not for you, not in your life. why would he matter?

until he contacted you. he didn't show up in person, what at first made you think that he's... well, a pussy. but you soon realised it's actually analytical and mindful of him. you could act on impulse, say or do something bad. seeing him for the first time won't be easy. he gave you some time to think, so your emotions didn't get between both of you, and couldn't ruin your relationship from the beginning.

but he could at least leave you his phone number instead of the most complicated address, consisting of, not to be dramatic but, like a hundred numbers.

"can i help you?" you heard a feminine, yet hard and raspy voice.

the unforeseen sound made you jump, your heart beating like a little bird trapped in a cage, trying to get out of your chest. you couldn't let her notice how scared you were, though. you crumpled the letter in your sweaty hand. the yellowish paper felt humid, probably soaking wet from your moist skin.

"i don't think so." your voice trembled with the first vowel but you managed to regain your unbothered, callous posture right after.

"this..." she gestured at the ground and area around you — dark buildings that looked empty, yet you felt watched, in plain sight. "this is a bad place for girls like you."

you nervously cleared your throat, deciding to ignore her opinion, and continued on walking. but you could still hear her echoing footsteps.

"i think that— you shouldn't be there. and you don't want to be there." she crossed her arms.

once you gave up and turned around, you were left surprised by how pretty she was. your expectations were— well, on a way lower level. she looked masculine and you could see the curves of her muscles through her clothes, yet you weren't feeling precarious nor apprehensive by her presence anymore.

"actually," she continued, "i know that. it's painted all over your face. one glance in your direction and i already sense the discomfort."

you sharply inhaled, the air hissing in your nostrils as you mumbled an annoyed "god" under your breath. "are you always like that?"

"no." she shook her head and pursed her lips in a thin line, before realising what you meant and chuckling. "not at all. but you should be fuckin' thankful." she untangled her arms and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "c'mon, what are you looking for?"

you pinched your nose bridge and closed your eyes with a huff, because why did she have to be so damn persistent and perpetual? but she seemed able to help you, so in a slightly complaining—dissenting tone you murmured your father's name.

and her stubborn smirk faded, her gaze shifted between you and the letter in your hand. "who are you?" she asked, emphasizing each syllable, as if she was talking to a child.

you were dubious and skeptical on what you should say nor should you admit the truth, you just shrugged. a hesitant, mistrustful raise of your shoulders, which even deepened the girl's frown, knitting her eyebrows together. "i dunno..."

"you can't be a sluuu— sorry, a prostitute" she thought aloud, actually considering this option.

"why?" your expression glowered as you scowled. oh, so your father is associated with call girls, how nice! "don't answer. whatever. just— take me to him."

"i can't." she defensively raised her hands. "you could be a... fuck, i don't know, a spy or something!"

"don't be stupid" you scoffed and couldn't help but roll your eyes. "i'm his daughter."

she gulped and her eyes widened. "daughter?..."

✧˖°

PART 2 IS OUT !!

[hyperactively-me]

regency era!ghost x reader au (part 4)

The ballroom was a whirlwind of activity, the air alive with a large bustling crowd and an orchestra. Candlelight flickered off the gilded walls, casting a warm glow over the assembly of guests as they twirled and sashayed across the polished marble floor. 

You stand at the edge of the ballroom, the soft rustle of your gown mingling with the hum of the music. Despite your best efforts to put your little incident in the park with the Duke out of your mind, his words still echo in your thoughts, leaving you feeling unsettled and off balance. 

But tonight was not the time to dwell on such matters. Tonight was about revelry and celebration, as well as matching up with potential suitors. Your parents wanted you to go in on your best foot forward after noticing you’ve been off the past few days. And so, with a determined smile, you set out to enjoy the evening to its fullest. 

You mingle amongst the guests, making conversation with old friends and new acquaintances. You were introduced to many eligible bachelors, all with some title or another. Some were quite good company, while others were less than enjoyable. Each vied for your attention, eager to claim a spot on your dance card. Every so often, you looked over your shoulder in hopes of not seeing Duke Riley tonight. 

Soon enough, you found yourself twirling from partner to partner, each dance becoming more lively than the next. Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of small talk and witty remarks, there was one face that stood out. 

Lord Phillip Graves, with his slicked-back hair and predatory grin, was one of the most sought after bachelors of the season. He made his way towards you with all the subtlety of a prowling lion. You felt a shiver of annoyance run down your spine as he approached, his eyes alight with a hunger that made your skin crawl. 

This was not the first time he had tried to court you. Despite his persistence, you had made it abundantly clear to Lord Graves that you had absolutely no interest in his advances. His sleazy demeanor and reputation as a notorious womanizer made you wary of his intentions. Yet, undeterred by your disinterest, he continues to pursue you with a relentless determination that bordered on pitiful desperation.

As he drew near, you plastered on a polite smile, steeling yourself for yet another encounter with the insufferable nobleman. 

“Ah, there she is,” he purred, his voice dripping with charm. “The belle of the ball herself. Would you do me the honor of a dance, my lady?”

You resist the urge to smack him in response to his saccharine words, instead offering him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Mister Graves, but I’m afraid my dance card is already quite full for the evening,” you reply, hoping to dissuade him from pressing the issue further. 

But Lord Graves was not so easily deterred. With a predatory look in his eye, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your cheek. “Surely you can spare just one dance for me?” he whispers, his words sending bile up your throat.

Before you could respond, a familiar, and not entirely unwelcome, voice rings in your ears.

“The lady’s dance card is indeed full for the rest of the evening.”  

You turn to see the Duke standing right behind you, his expression as unreadable as ever. His intervention was completely unexpected, and you nearly raised your eyebrow in confusion. 

Lord Graves’ eyes narrow, his irritation evident. “And who are you to speak for the lady?” he demands, his voice dripping with contempt.

Simon’s jaw clenches with barely contained patience, his gaze locked with Lord Graves in a battle of wills. 

“I’m the Duke,” he states firmly, his voice authoritarian. “And I can claim the lady’s dance card for the remainder of the evening if I so desire.”

You watch in stunned silence as Simon reaches out and plucks the dance card from your hand, his movements deliberate and possessive. You hold your breath as he scrawls his name across the remaining slots, his actions leaving no room for argument. 

Your eyes flit up to see Graves’ face twist with barely concealed annoyance, but he manages a tight, mocking smile. “Very well, Your Grace. Enjoy your evening.” With that, he turns on his heel and stalks away.

“Come,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. 

Simon offers his arm, and you eye him wearily, yet nod politely anyway. As you settle your hand around his large bicep, your mind races with questions. He guides you away from the crowd and into a secluded area of the hall.  

Once out of earshot of the other guests, you pull your hand away from his arm and turn to face him, your eyes now ablaze with anger. “What on earth were you thinking?” you demand, your voice low but fierce. “You have no right to act so high-handed, and in front of everyone, no less!”

Simon raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I was merely trying to protect you from—“

“Protect me?” you cut him off, your frustration boiling over, all manners thrown out the window. “From what? From a man who, insufferable as he is, poses no real threat? You used me to take a jab at Lord Graves. How dare you!”

Simon’s expression hardens, his own temper flaring up. “Graves is a scoundrel, and I will not stand by and watch him attempt to manipulate you or take advantage of you.”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you retort, stepping closer. “Do you think your actions tonight were any less manipulative? You commandeered my entire evening without so much as asking if I agreed to it! You’ve treated me as if I were your property, and it’s unacceptable!” 

Simon’s eyes darken, a flicker of something like regret passing through them. “I did not intend for you to feel like property. My intentions were to keep you safe—” 

“Safe?” you echo incredulously. “And yet, on top of that, you’ve compromised my reputation. A single woman alone with a bachelor in a secluded corner— do you realize how inappropriate this is as well?” 

His jaw clenches, and he takes a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure. “I did what I thought was necessary.”

“Well, your ‘necessity’ has only created more problems,” you snap, pointing a gloved finger into his chest. “If you truly wanted to help me, you should have asked what I wanted. Instead, you acted according to your own whims, completely disregarding my feelings and my autonomy!” 

Simon’s eyes widen slightly, taken aback by the intensity of your words. He had never seen you this brutally honesty before, and it stirred something within him. He stands there, shoulders rigid, struggling to maintain his stern facade; something akin to shame crosses his face. He was a man used to command and control, not to be questioned, especially by someone of your stature. But here you were, staring him down with a blaze in your eyes that he found oddly captivating. For a moment, he seems at a loss for words, his usually sharp tongue rendered mute by your reprimand. 

“I… I apologize,” he finally admits, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “I acted without considering your wellbeing, and for that, I’m sorry. It was not my place to decide for you.” 

Your anger still simmered, but his apology, unexpected as it was, gave you pause. You sigh, folding your arms across your chest. “I am perfectly capable of handling myself. If I need your help, I will ask for it. Until then, please, respect my independence.” 

His eyes search yours, and for the first time, you saw something beyond the cold, unyielding exterior— a hint of vulnerability, perhaps. It was something you hadn’t anticipated.

“I will respect your wishes,” Simon says quietly, his voice sincere. “But know that my intentions were never to undermine you. I merely wanted to—“

“To what?” you interrupt, but this time your voice is soft. “To ‘protect me’? From what, exactly? Yes, Mister Graves is intolerable, but I can handle men like him.”

Simon’s jaw tightens. “I merely wanted to protect you from anything that might harm you. The world is full of dangers, seen and unseen. And despite my faults, and no matter how you regard me, I do not wish to see you hurt.” 

You raise an eyebrow, surprised at that admission. “Why do you care, Mister Riley? You hardly know me, and ever since we’ve met, you’ve treated me with disdain.”

A muscle twitches in Simon’s cheek. “Perhaps I do not know you, my lady, but you deserve to be honored and protected. Forgive me for my abhorrent behavior. There is no excuse for it. I am not accustomed to this… world of balls and social niceties. I am a soldier, and in war, we act swiftly to protect.” 

You blink, swallowing thickly. There was a raw honesty in his words that left you momentarily speechless. Slowly, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your anger cooling. His sincerity shows you a different side of him, painting a different picture of the man you thought he was. 

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, your voice soft and slow. “But I am not a soldier on your battlefield. I am a woman who is capable of fending for myself. And, if it ever so happens that I do need your help, I will make it known to you."

Simon’s gaze meets yours again, and this time there’s a depth of emotion there that you haven’t seen before. “You’re capable, and I admire that. But that doesn’t mean you should have to fend off predators alone.”

The words hang between you, and for a moment, the tension eases. You study his face, searching for any sign of deceit, but all you find is earnestness. It’s disarming.

“Thank you,” you say after a pause, “Next time, if you would like to help, ask me first.”

“You have my word.”

You let out a small sigh, nodding your head. “Good.” After another moment, you look at him. "I forgive you."

The tension between you eases slightly, though the air remains charged with unspoken sentiments and unresolved emotions. You turn to leave, but Simon gently takes your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

You look down, his thick fingers closing around your hand. You stare at them for a moment too long, a stray thought crossing your mind. 

“I would like to make it up to you,” he says, his voice hard, yet earnest. 

You remove your attention from his fingers, looking up to meet his eyes. His thumb rubs over the satin that covers your knuckles. 

“Allow me to dance with you.” 

Humming, you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “And if I refuse?” 

“Then I’ll respect your decision.” He pauses, tilting his head. “But I hope you won’t.”

You feel as though the wind has been knocked from your lungs. The uncharacteristic sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you find yourself at a loss for words. 

You consider his offer, the tension between you still palpable. Yet, there’s a part of you that’s curious, intrigued by this side of Simon you haven’t seen before; you decide to take it slow, to not reveal too much to him. 

With a tiny, hesitant smile, you nod your head in agreement. “Well, since you’ve already commandeered my dance card, we might as well make the most of it,” you state simply. 

A flash of something like relief briefly crosses his features, though he quickly masks it with his usual stoicism. “Thank you, my lady.”

With that, he offers you his arm. His bicep bulges under his dress jacket, and an unexpected heat creeps up your neck. The satin of your glove allows your arm to glide through his with ease, fabrics pressing into one another. You never really noticed how firm his muscle is, causing electricity to shoot down your spine. The heat of his body radiates into you as he unexpectedly pulls you closer into his side, leading you to the dance floor in time for an English country dance. (y’all stay with me here, I’m envisioning the dance Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth have together in P&P 2005)

As you and Simon step onto the marble floor, the orchestra transitions into a lively melody, infusing the air with excitement. 

Simon’s hand rests confidently yet gently on your waist as he leads you through the movements of the dance, his touch sending a jolt of warmth coursing through your veins. At first, you were skeptical of this man's dancing skills, certain he would make a fool out of you on the dance floor, yet, to your surprise, he takes the lead confidently.

For a man as lumbering and large as he is, he is uncharacteristically light-footed when it comes to dancing. You would’ve never thought he possessed the skill. 

He never let you mis-step, keeping his gaze locked on your face the whole time. With every meeting in the middle, you swore his face inched closer and closer to yours. With each turn and twirl, you find yourself inching closer to Simon, the space between you narrowing until there's nothing left but the heat of his body pressed against yours. His hand slides lower on your waist, toying with the sash thats wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as the room falls away, leaving only the two of you locked in a rather sensual embrace.

And in that moment, as the music reaches its end and the world fades into oblivion, a terrifying realization dawns upon you: there's no place you'd rather be than in the Duke's arms.

part 3 < > part 5

[moonyspupp]

Just like old times

Sirius Black X Female!Reader

SMUT AT THE END

CW: character deaths, smut

Post Azkaban

·.★·.·´¯`·.·★ ·.★·.·´¯`·.·★ ·.★·.·´¯`·.·★ ·.★·.·´¯`·.·★

The order of the phoenix is once again in need, as more cases involving Voldemort rise. With actions to be done, the members work hard together to devise a plan against him. The old home of the Black family is quiet and dark, yet filled with small chatter.

As a member of the order of the phoenix, You weren’t a stranger to the place, in fact, you’ve been there before. Before his imprisonment in Azkaban, you were close with Sirius Black and spent quite a bit of time in his home in secret.

You quietly walk around the place before the routinely meeting started. Silently admiring the intricate walls and antique furniture, almost as though you were walking through a distant memory.

“(Y/n)!” You hear a voice call

You turn your head and see Nymphadora , giving her a warm smile.

“Meeting in 15” she grins, you thank her and nod and make your way down the corridors of the house.

As you continue walking you come across a familiar room, one that you recognize just from the door itself.

You open the door slowly and look around to see a messy room with red duvets on the bed and of course; a gryfindor banner still proudly hanging on the wall. Smiling at the sight, you ignore the dust flying everywhere and step in, obvious that the room hasn’t been touched in many years.

This was Sirius’s room.

A soft solemn feeling washes over you along with the memories you held deep within you. The memories of your time in hogwarts spent with him. With nights filled with endless conversations and laughs, contrasting with the secrecy of your friendship with him, the memory was a bittersweet one. You remember how it all eventually came to an end soon after the Marauders fell apart. The many promises made to one another to stay in contact even after leaving hogwarts.

You slide a finger across the cover of a dusty book

You can’t help but remember the news you received learning about the death of James and Peter, along with Sirius’s imprisonment in Azkaban. All the fingers pointed to Sirius after the death of the muggles and Peter, even going as far as saying he betrayed Lily and James, but you knew that wasn’t true. You knew him far too well, but no one seemed to believe it but you. After that the thought of Sirius filled you with sorrow and worry, you knew he was supposed to be a free man.

Breaking out your trance, you let out a sigh and have a seat on the bed. Looking over at the nightstand, a thin layer of dust covered the lamp from head to toe, along with a framed group photo of everyone, including you. With gentle hands, you pick up the frame to get a better look. Blowing the dust off it you can now clearly see all the smiling faces you remembered and cherished. Even though the group was no longer complete, you couldn’t help but smile. Setting the photo back down onto the stand, you open its drawer. Inside the bottom was littered with numerous letters.

Your eyes widen at the sight, you wrote all of these many years ago over the summer when you and Sirius were apart. Lying near the faded parchment, your eyes darted to a small necklace with a gem pendant. The one you left at his home all those years ago. Your mouth parted slightly shocked that he kept them, you gently close the drawers and let out a small content sigh.

Though it’s been over ten years since you’ve seen any of them, the countless tears shed will always be a reminder of what things were before; you missed all of them dearly.

You missed Sirius dearly.

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you’ve never liked him at some point when you were in hogwarts. But seeing how so many girls swooned over the rebellious handsome dark haired Sirius Black, your teen self decided not to pursue him. Remembering how much James and Remus teased you about how your feelings for Sirius was as clear as day, a slight tinge of regret fills you. You ignore the thoughts of regret, what’s done is done anyways.

You get up and brush off the dust on you and leave the room, remembering the meeting being held. You make your way back into the main room, hearing dumbledores voice you worried you may be a tad bit late.

You peek over the corner of the door and see that the meeting has already starting, you jump when you hear dumbledore speak

“(Y/n), just in time, please have a seat” he smiles gently

Before you could even make another step into the room, your eyes widen as they fall on a rugged man at a table.

“Ah, you finally decided to show” Sirius says voice rough yet still melodious. Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. The eyes in the room direct to you, all seeing your surprised face.

You nervously make your way to the table and have a seat, while your eyes left the familiar man, he stayed in your mind the whole time. With a relaxed expression Sirius’s watched you as you sat, his grey eyes never leaving you.

However you suddenly feel very aware, aware of the fact that you were sitting across from the man whom you missed so dearly. As the meeting goes on, your eyes peek back at him every so often, studying his face noticing the obvious change caused by Azkaban, nonetheless he was still the handsome boy from hogwarts all those years ago. A soft tender feeling along with one of relief fills your heart as you plan on reconnecting with the man after the meeting.

As you tried to focus still on dumbledores words, Sirius eyes dart across the room remembering in the familiar faces of old acquaintances. His eyes fall upon you and your nostalgic presence. He hadn't seen you since the fateful night everything changed. As he locked gazes with you, a mix of emotions shows on his face, one of regret and longing. Your face softens as you look at him, bringing your lips to a small smile.

The meeting continues on as the two of you share stolen glances at each other, both with heavy yet joyful hearts at the sight at one another. Your heart feels the same as it did all those years ago, so many questions yet to be answered.

The meeting eventually comes to an end, you and Sirius share a longing glance at each other as the rest of the members begin to get up from the table. Everyone exchanged their goodbyes for the time being while you and Sirius still sat quietly at the table.

“Still as pretty as always (y/n), you haven’t changed one bit” you hear Sirius say from across the table.

You roll your eyes playfully at his response.

“What happened to hello you sly dog?” You say laughing, a tender feeling fills your heart to see he was still the same as well. As the laughter dies down the room once again returns to silence.

“Sirius..” you say breaking the silence of the now empty room. The sound of you saying his name brought him a nostalgic warmth.

"(Y/n), I didn't think I'd see you again," he said with a soft yet regretful voice “been a while hasn’t it doll?” You can feel that his words carry years of pain and longing.

You nod, “it has hasn’t it?, we should catch up Sirius” you say getting up from the table. “Let’s walk around for old times sake, this time without fear” you laugh remembering you couldn’t freely roam around here in fear of his parents seeing you.

A grin appears on his face as he gets up from the table as well. "Ah, the good old days, I have to admit, I do miss causing trouble with you (y/n)” he said chuckling

The two of you walk side by side in the halls as the familiarity of the home begin to set in.

"How... how have you been?" Sirius asked his voice filled with curiosity. Despite the years and his own troubles, he wanted to know about your life since he had been gone. He missed you all this time.

Everyone knew he went to Azkaban shortly after the events of James and Peter for over a decade. But not everyone knew it was to be locked away, for a crime he didn’t commit. Being known as the man who betrayed his friends. Even then, you never left his thoughts, he was filled with regret and guilt being away from you. He had no one but himself those 12 years, he had desperately hoped at least someone would believe him.

“Been alright Siri, after hogwarts I started working at an apothecary now, so it’s been quite busy, especially with the meetings.” You say smiling letting him lead the way now.

"An apothecary, huh? That sounds... fitting. Potions was always your thing." Sirius said with a surprised but affectionate look

“I guess you could say that Siri” you grin widely

"I imagine you're probably quite successful at it too. Always were a bit of a secret genius, weren't you?" His smile cheekily as he continued walking

A sweet feeling washes over the two of you as you walked and made small conversation to catch up with each others lives. You see Sirius stop when he reaches his old bedroom door.

“Merlin… I haven’t been in here for forever” he said with a nostalgic but sad look on his face.

You gently hold onto his arm as he opens the bedroom door.

He moved further inside, his eyes lingering on the old memories in which the room held. He settled down on the edge of the dusty bed, with heavy thoughts; patting the spot next to him to signal you to sit as well. As the two of you sit the air grows weary by the second.

"It's strange, being back here... Seeing everything again..." Sirius says with his eyes wandering around the room still. You rub his back trying to comfort him and he lets out a soft sigh. The feeling of your touch comforts him, brings him back to a time before all those years In Azkaban, to a time where life was kinder. But deeper than that, it brought him back to a time where he was with you.

“It is isn’t it? I remember you used to sneak me over Siri, that was a lot of fun wasnt it?” You say looking at him with a smile trying to lighten the situation; hoping it’ll help him look past it

"Sneaking you in was certainly... eventful. I remember the risk... the moments where we laughed all night and told stories to each other, and the way you took up half the bed when you slept” he said laughing, but his eyes looked somber remembering those memories, the simplicity of youth so distant now.

You nudge him playfully at the bed remark and lean slightly on his shoulder.

"There's so much I haven't told you.” He said looked around

(y/n)..." Sirius said breaking the silence, his voice quiet. He stared straight ahead at the tattered curtains; avoiding your gaze. "After... everything. Azkaban too. So many things I wish I could explain... and apologize for..." his voice trailed on

You shake your head, “you don’t have to apologize for anything Sirius” you said quietly.

He lets out a dry laugh, doubting your words as he shakes his head.

"But I do,(y/n)... I owe you so much more than an apology." His eyes met yours eventually, looking remorseful “I never wanted to leave you, you know that, right? Everything that happened... feels like it was my fault.” He says with a sigh.

“But it wasn’t Siri, and you know that too.” You begin to rub his back again, you can tell that he’s still carrying all the weight from the past. He stirs slightly under your touch, but doesn’t pull away. Your heart hurts from seeing him like this.

"I should've... done more. Should've been there for you. For Harry. For James and Lily... I should've done something," Sirius said, his voice heavy with guilt.

“You did all that you could, you did your best, none of this was your fault Sirius, I know what you’ve heard what others have said but I’ve believed you from the start.” You say almost pleading

Sirius looks at you with a mixture of surprise and gratitude at your words. For the first time in years, someone believed in him, trusted him even. He feels some guilt wash away upon hearing it, a sense of comfort replacing it.

"You... believed me?" He whispered quietly, his voice still showing his disbelief.

“Of course, I’ve always have Siri” you said with a soft smile.

Leaning slightly closer to him you see small tears brimming in his eyes, with mixture of relief and regret. You reached out, your hand gently cradling the side of his face, your soft fingers caressing his stubbled cheeks. All you wanted to do was make him feel safe again.

"Thank you. You... you have no idea how much that means to me." He said his voice breaking.

His gaze lingered on your face, studying your features carefully full as if he was trying to make up for the years he spent away from you. The weight of his past seemed to lift ever so slightly with your presence. He leaned in closer, his face now inches from yours

"I've missed you, (y/n). So damn much. You were... the one thing I held onto during my darkest time, you were my light, the thing I looked forward to when I broke out." Sirius said his voice quivering as a tear ran down his face.

“I’m here now Sirius, I missed you so much too, I always worried about you while you were away, I missed everything we had before it all changed” you cooed as you continued to caress his face.

He closed his eyes, giving into your touch, your words soothing his aching soul. Sirius out a shaky exhale, a mixture of pain and longing. All he wanted was for time to stop, to keep this brief moment of vulnerability with you forever.

"(Y/n)... I've dreamed of this... seeing you again, hearing your voice. It felt like a lost hope, a distant memory I would never relive, I thought I was gonna die there..."

He pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

You held him close as held you intimately, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his arms holding onto you as if he feared you'd slip away from his grasp forever. He took in the familiar scent of you, the one always remembered.

“I really missed being held by you Siri.. it was the one thing i looked forward to when I hoped to see you again, I’m so happy you’re here.” You muttered quietly as you savored the moment.

"All those years... the loneliness, the fear, the despair. It's all faded now, just having you here... feels like I can breathe again." Sirius said softly still holding you right.

“And I’ll stay right here with you, where I’m meant to be, always” you say nuzzling into his neck.

Your breathing became more relaxed as you felt his hair tickle your face, everything felt like how it was meant to be in that moment.

Sirius pulls back slightly and lets out a soft huff, feeling his lips ghost over the skin of your neck, peppering kisses along it. You savor the feeling and let out a small content hum.

"(Y/n)... I need to tell you something. Something I should've said a long time ago. Before everything changed, I regret not saying it before...." he said his voice gruff.

You pull away to meet his gaze, head tilting slightly waiting for him to tell you, feeling his arms tighten around you, the air grew tense.

"I... I love you my sweet girl. I always have. From the first moment we met, I knew... I knew you were special. I just... couldn't admit it. Couldn't allow myself that happiness, that vulnerability, didn’t think I deserved it." He muttered quietly

Your heart leapt through your chest hearing those words, the words you dreamed of hearing ever since you met him, you stayed in his embrace just a little longer not knowing how to get the words out.

“Sirius.. you.. you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say those words” “I love you, ever since we were at hogwarts, I just couldn’t say anything because I didn’t think you felt the same.” You said your grip on his back tightening as you feel yourself begin to tremble slightly.

“you don’t give yourself as much credit as you deserve dear, only a fool wouldn’t see that.” Sirius lets out small huff as he sees your face full of truth and honesty.

Your expression softens as he admires your (e/c) eyes, he can’t help but let out a smile.

“I never want to let go of you (y/n), never again. I want to be by your side once more.” He said still looking into your eyes, his voice trembling with emotion

You respond by placing a rough needy kiss on his lips, one you should’ve done a long time ago, he pulled you closer deepening the kiss desperately. The kiss was ravishing and hungry yet still filled with love. You feel the desire grow as his hands roam around your body on his lap.

Countless years of pent up longing in such a brief moment.

His hands found their way under your shirt grabbing onto your bare flesh. you shuddered at the rough feeling of his palms, your need growing by the second. You grip his back even tighter wanting more. After what seems like an eternity, Sirius pulls away with a low growl.

“(Y/n).. Merlin I need you badly.. now.. here.” Sirius said panting.

You whimper at the lost warmth, looking up at him with pleasing eyes along with your swollen lips. The way you look sends him into a spiral, pinning you down on the dusty bed.

His lips roughly bit at your neck, desperate to mark you as he should’ve done so long ago. He continued to nip at your neck sucking at the delicate skin as you wince and squirm at the feeling of it. His hands come down to the bottom of your shirt, carelessly pulling it off and tossing it aside, his eyes growing hungry at the sight of your naked top half.

"You're so damn beautiful... How did I ever stay away from you for so long?" He says while his eyes roaming your body

“Sirius.. more please.” You say your breathing becoming shallow. Your hands trail down his tattooed chest, fuck.. you thought to yourself. You desperately wanted more.

Sirius let’s out a small chuckle at your pleas, his mouth met yours again as he obliged, tongue exploring every part of your mouth as his hands has free rein over your entire body. You felt pure bliss he touched you, you pull him close and nipped at his ear

“I need you.. all of you” you said panting in his ear

His lips down trailed your body, stopping and letting down a huff of desire as he reaches the edge of your shorts.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this.. I’ve only imagined it in dream.. may I?” He asks looking up your face

You frantically nod, Sirius laughs at your eagerness

He leans back slightly, his fingers hooking the waistband’s edge along with your panties, taking his time to inch them down your delicate hips. Your body was now fully exposed to him, he groans at the sight of your wet cunt, the sight of you undressed driving him wild.

“(Y/n).. my god.. you’re perfect in every way.” Sirius said his eyes not leaving your sopping pussy for even a second

You stir slightly in embarrassment covering your face instinctively at the thought of being completely bare beneath him

Sirius playfully laughed at your shy gesture and blushed cheeks, he gently tugged at your hands, a feeling of endearment filling him.

"No need to hide, love. You're utterly beautiful. Let me see you... all of you." He said placing a kiss on your lips

You removed your hands, feeling your shyness melt away under his reassurance, his eyes once again returns to roaming over your body, remembering every little detail of it.

"You're a goddamn masterpiece..." he said gruff and full of desire as he ran two fingers down your sopping cunt, making you shudder

He gently positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping and caressing your thighs, He looked up at you, his gaze radiating heat and love.

"Can I...? I need to taste you... I need to... worship you..." you hear him say

“Sirius please.. I need it” Your legs shake slightly at his words.

His eyes darkened at your words, gaze locked, letting out a low growl as you feel his face not even an inch from your core. You let out a surprised moan as you feel his tongue run up and down your slit spreading them open.

“Sirius fuck!” You say with your back arching slightly at the pleasure

Sirius hums in response , not stopping for even a second as he continues to ravish your pussy, using one hand to gently rub on your clit while using the other to hold you in place.

You continue to wince and moan at his tongue, your face growing redder by the second, you couldn’t help but grab onto his long dark locks for more.

“Sirius more please don’t make m’ wait I’m begging you” you cry out loudly your breathing now heavy

“You want it that bad don’t you doll?” He says looking up from your trembling legs.

You throw your head back against the pillow and continue to spew out pleas and moans. Sirius laughs at your reaction again as he reaches back up to meet your face.

“You’re so beautiful..” he murmured. “Let me make you you feel even better, let me make you mine” he growls

You nod as you brush a strand of hair away from your sweating face. “Make me yours please Sirius.” You say pulling him into another kiss

He groans as you share another passionate kiss with him. He pulls down his boxers, his aching cock hitting right before his navel dripping with need, eventually pulling back to brush against your core before guiding himself to meet your entrance. and my god was he big..

You shudder at the feeling and spread your legs further, he looked up at you for final approval and you gave him a nod.

He pushed himself in slowly watching your face letting out a guttural sound, you moan out at the feeling of being stretched, being stretched by Sirius. You throw your head back at the feeling. He briefly stops to let you adjust to the feeling before pushing more of his throbbing cock into your cunt. His eyebrows furrow at the feeling of you clamping down on his length. Another minute or so goes on and he’s completely sheathed in your heat.

You felt so full.

Your breathing turned into pants and Sirius looks up at you and caresses your face gently, he inches back up to meet your face and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you (y/n)” he mutters softly with his eyes full of love and trust

“I love you too Sirius” you whisper back smiling

He holds the back of your knees up and pressed them to your chest as he quickens his pace. Your moans growing even louder. Sirius presses himself on top of you, allowing him to go even deeper inside your core, and you can’t help but yell out in pleasure from being claimed as his. Now balls deeps; he’s completely lost in you as his pace quicks once more. The feeling of his entire cock ravishing your core sends you over the edge wanting even more. Sirius’s pace becomes unforgiving as he pushes your legs down even further.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” he says gritting his teeth

“More Sirius!” You scream out trying to hold onto his neck and he pounds you from underneath,your arms grow weak as you give into the feeling as pleas for more turning into babbling as he gives you what you ask for. The bed creaks loudly under the two of you adding to the intensity of the situation. You continue to moan loudly as you dig your nails into his back. The wet slick sound of your hips slapping against his fueling your need even further. Your mind starts to give out as you feel his cock hitting the tip of your cervix. You look up at Sirius to see his shut eyes with sweat beading on his forehead. His hair falling over his shoulder was a sight to see.

And god was it all you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Don’t fucking stop Sirius” you groan holding him close to you. Your dripping cunt hugging him so well. As if you were meant to take his cock alone. You bite his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming your lungs out, making him moan at the feeling. His grip on your hips tightens; almost bruising as he continues to fuck you hard. You become a drooling mess under him and he loved seeing you come undone all for his touch. His hips rocked against your sopping cunt, as his breathing got even more ragged. You shut your eyes hard as you feel yourself grow closer to your climax.

“Fuck (y/n) I’m getting close” he groans as his thrusts become more sloppy as his breathing becomes more intense.

“Inside Sirius, cum inside please!” You babble loudly feeling myself grow even closer to finishing.

“Fuck doll you’re mine and mine alone” Sirius pants as he buries his face in your neck. You lock your legs around him to feel him ravish your pussy even further. It doesn’t take long for you to finish, a small dribble of drool leaving the corner of your mouth as you moan. A warm feeling fills you as Sirius lets out one final groan as he pushes himself into you as much as you can; his grip on your thighs feral, attempting to cum inside you as deeply as possible. You let out a cry as you feel your own climax come to you. Your legs now loosening their grip around his waist trembling.

Sirius lays on top of you for a while , placing kisses all around your face and neck before he pulls his softening cock out your cunt, letting the evidence of your love drip out slightly. He lets out a content sigh as he pulls away just enough to see your worn out face.

“You alright there doll?” He asks breathing heavily

“Yes surprisingly” you smile at him huffing to catch your breath.

He lets out a tired laugh before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Wish I’ve done that sooner” he says

“Me too Siri” I mutter quietly

He pulls you into an embrace for a while, a much needed break for the both of you. The room is filled with laughs as you continue to catch each other up with minuscule stories. The house that you both cherished no longer feels bleak as the life it needed returns with the company of the two of you.

Just like old times.

[acourtofthought]

There's a post on the other side claiming that Lucien wanted to see Elain just once to see if she was worth fighting for and after he did, he immediately turned around and decided he'd rather rescue another female.

This is one of those "IG versus Real Life" Posts. They like their filtered version the best but it's not actually the truth.

Lucien arrived at the HOW where Feyre told him to stay away from Elain for now, only for her to see Elain in her depressed state then turn to leave and found Lucien standing in the door, devastation written across his face.

Lucien was told to stay away from Elain but when he accidentally stumbled upon her in the library, he stayed, thinking on how she was too thin, offering her a biscuit, thinking she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen (something that made him feel guilty because of Jesminda - but sure, he went on and immediately started fixating on Vassa. Makes sense).

Nesta demanded that he leave the library and he in turn demanded that they get Elain outside, that she needed fresh air.

Feyre calls down to Rhys to have the sisters moved from the HOW because of Lucien's insistence to get her outside (it's clear THIS is the reason Az took Elain out to the garden, because they wouldn't let Lucien remain near her and Feyre told Rhys to relay Lucien's insistence that they take her outside).

Elain begins eating, drinking, and sleeping after this and continues having riddles which began within a day of Lucien's arrival to the HOW.

Despite the sisters treatment of him, Lucien tells Feyre he'd still like to help and suggests that a healer look over Elain, asking that Feyre tell him what she says and whether he can do anything more. At the healers suggestion he sits with and attempts to reach out to her through their bond while Feyre, Mor, Amren and Nesta sit around them pretending like they're not staring the two of them down which makes for an extremely awkward situation for someone who has never attempted to explore his bond with a female before. He doesn't have the time he needs before Elain stands up after feeling the tug and Nesta interferes but when questioned about what he felt it causes him to blush.

When he's not thinking of ways to help Elain, Lucien has been offering his assistance to the IC, heading to the library for them, telling Az about the Autumn Court, making suggestions regarding the High Lords meeting, secretly talking to Nuan in hopes she could create an antidote to the faebane.

Elain has the vision that reveals Vassa and Koschei to them and Mor begins arguing in favor of seeking Vassa out. Azriel, despite his proclamation that they need a seer doesn't seem to believe Elain's vision is worth pursing and just as FEYRE is about to volunteer, just as she realizes how much the others are needed in the NC, Lucien offers up his own life because he realizes he is the one that they don't need in the NC. That Elain is still mourning Graysen, that he doesn't really belong in this court, that he is the expendable one.

Please show me where in the text that he's eager to find Vassa because he has any sort of romantic inclination to find another female? Please show me where this was EVER about rescuing one person? The text shows he went after her so he could try and bring back an ARMY. You know, to help them win the war? So they could have a chance at surviving?

As Lucien leaves on what in canon is a dangerous mission, in order to support his mates vision, one even Az wouldn't let Rhys go too far into the human lands for, he bows his head to hide the longing and sadness he has for Elain, not Vassa. While Lucien is willing to pursue Elain's vision, it does not read that he's relieved and happy to be leaving her. He's doing it because he believes it's the right thing to do.

This constant twisting of the events is not going to change what happened in the story no matter how often they try. If Sarah wanted us to believe there was anything romantic about Lucien saving Vassa she would not have written Lucien still looking at his mate with longing nearly two years after the scenes above.

"Longing is almost a genre unto itself. We think of longing as being wrapped up in romance and desire, but it's broader than that. I think of how an intense longing for the past, a person, an experience, or a life drives a story or a character."

This act of longing as it's written for Sarah's males is not about only romance and desire but the longing for a life they want to have with their mates. And when every male that has longed for his mate ended up with her I'm not sure why some in the fandom believe it's not going to work out exactly the same for Lucien when it comes to Elain.

[rosiestalez]

Frozen Moments

Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

wc: 1,400

Summary: you are awarded a scholarship for you to pursue your masters degree.

warnings: non really just light language, and a bit of an age gap! pic from pinterest!

this is for all my teachers and my fellow college students studying to be a teacher. this is him praising us basically! happy reading 🫶

———————————————————��——

Your black cocktail gown, lined with sequins, shimmered under the lights of Gotham U’s over-the-top banquet hall. The room buzzed with laughter—faculty, classmates, donors, and Gotham’s elite mingled in animated conversations. With a champagne flute in one hand and your clutch in the other, you observed the crowd. You watched how they talked, how they moved, and how they stood, mentally preparing yourself to slip into their world when you decided to engage.

You take a seat at your assigned table, and beside you sits your mentor, the woman who had been by your side since your freshman year of undergrad. She had guided you through countless hardships and was the one who nominated you for the B.W.E. scholarship. As you glance over her shoulder, your eyes land on him. You never expected to see him out in the wild, yet there he was—Bruce Wayne, larger than life.

Bruce looked striking, his impeccably tailored suit fitting him perfectly, as if crafted solely for his frame. He stood tall, towering over the man he was conversing with, commanding the space around him effortlessly. You couldn’t help but stare, frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away. He hadn’t noticed you yet—but maybe in a few moments, when he turned his head, he would.

The piano music halts softly and everyone takes a seat in their respective areas, Bruce strides into the stage to the podium. “good evening ladies and gentlemen.”

“good evening”, replies the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight to celebrate our wonderful scholars.” The voice echoed across the banquet hall, drawing everyone’s attention to the podium. Bruce Wayne stood confidently at the center of the stage, his presence commanding as he glanced over the crowd. He paused for a moment, offering a small, charismatic smile before continuing, “These young men and women have inspired us all at Wayne Enterprises, and it’s very clear that it’s time for us to give back.”

As he spoke, his hand rested casually on the podium, his gaze sweeping the room. He shifted his weight slightly, the tailored fabric of his suit catching the light. You could see the ease with which he held the audience’s attention, his deep voice resonating in the space. Every now and then, his eyes lingered on different parts of the crowd, making fleeting, deliberate eye contact with the attendees. There was an energy in the room, a quiet intensity as everyone hung on his every word.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. His demeanor drew you in, commanding your attention without effort, holding you captive in a way you hadn’t expected. The words of his speech barely registered as you found yourself caught in the pull of his deep blue eyes. And then you heard your name. Your trance shattered, replaced by a rush of adrenaline. You swiftly rose from your chair, heart pounding as you made your way to the stage. Anxiety, excitement, and humility washed over you all at once, your legs feeling unsteady beneath you as you faced the sea of Gotham’s elite. The crowd seemed impossibly refined, every face turned toward you as you approached Bruce Wayne.

“Ms. L/N, you have been awarded the B.W.E. Scholarship, in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars,” Bruce Wayne announces, his voice carrying effortlessly through the room. As he hands you the plaque, your jaw drops in disbelief. Bruce’s lips tug into a small, knowing smile as he offers his hand for a handshake.A cameraman steps forward, gesturing for both you and Bruce to face the camera. Still in shock, you comply, managing to plant a wide, gracious smile on your face. Bruce’s arm wraps gently around your waist, steadying you as the camera flashes.“Congratulations, Ms. L/N,” he says warmly, clapping his hands as he takes a step back. The crowd erupts in applause and cheers, the sound almost overwhelming as you make your way down the stairs, still clutching the plaque, your heart racing. You return to your table, the applause ringing in your ears, barely able to process what just happened.

The night carries on, and you find yourself alone in the quad sitting in a garden chair admiring your new plaque. a voice rings behind you,

“Hello, Y/N.”

You jump, clutching your chest at the sudden sound of his voice. “Holy shit—” you stammer, scrambling to recover. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne. Sorry, excuse me, you just startled me.”

He chuckles softly at your flustered reaction. “It’s alright, I know teachers have potty mouths.”

You can’t help but smile, relieved by his lightheartedness. He takes a seat beside you, and you’re struck by how effortlessly handsome he is. His hair is neatly combed back, and the subtle scent of Versace cologne mixed with fresh laundry detergent lingers in the air.

“I wanted to personally congratulate you,” he says, turning his full attention to you. “I have to admit, I’ve had my eye on you for a while. When I read your philosophy paper, I knew you deserved this more than anyone else.”

you blush, “oh, you read that? it was just something so i could pass the class.”

“i agreed with it, it was amazing. i agree with pushing boundaries in education, and hell Gotham needs someone like you”, he remarks.

“you’ve got a point.”

“good so we agree”, his smile illuminates his face, “wanna ditch this?”, he asks nodding his head to the parking lot. you laugh and nod. he stands taking your hand in his. you two make your way to the parking lot, “did you drive?”, he asks.

“no, i took an uber didn’t know how drunk i’d get tonight.”

“Perfect,” he says with a small smile, walking over to his sleek sports car. He opens the passenger door for you, extending his hand to help you in. Once you’re settled comfortably in the plush seat, he gently shuts the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. The soft purr of the engine starts as he slides in beside you, effortlessly in control of the wheel.

The sleek car pulls up in front of a small, charming ice cream shop nestled between towering Gotham buildings. You glance at Bruce, surprised by the choice, but his playful smile puts you at ease.

“You like ice cream, right?” he asks, already stepping out of the car and opening your door for you.

The shop is warm and cozy, with retro decor and the sweet smell of waffle cones in the air. You can hear the gentle hum of the freezer and the chatter of a few late-night customers. The glass display is filled with colorful scoops of every flavor you could imagine. Behind the counter, an older woman greets Bruce like an old friend.

“Bruce! It’s been a while! The usual?” she asks with a wink.

“And something for the lady,” Bruce adds, turning to you.

You scan the choices, feeling a bit out of place, but the warmth of the shop and Bruce’s casual demeanor make you smile. “Mint chocolate chip,” you say after a moment, trying to mask the butterflies in your stomach.

As you both sit down in a booth by the window, the soft glow of the streetlights outside adds to the comfortable ambiance. Bruce takes a spoonful of his ice cream and leans back, his relaxed posture a contrast to the serious man you’d seen earlier.

“I figured you could use something a little more… normal after tonight,” he says with a small grin, watching you as you take your first bite. The cool sweetness melts in your mouth, and for the first time that evening, you feel grounded, sharing a simple moment with Gotham’s most eligible billionaire. “and because i know you’re thinking about it, you don’t have to pay me back.”

“Mr. Way-“

“Bruce”, he smiles.

“Bruce, are you a mind reader”, he smirks before taking another mouthful of his ice cream.

you two chat for a while, you learn new things about him, and you explain your choice in pursuing your education degree. he praises you for your courage and kindness.

he arrives to your apartment, he even walks you to your door, “i had a great night Mr.- Bruce”, you speak before unlocking your door with your keys.

“i did too, here’s my number, i hope we can do this again sometime”, he smiles handing you a sticky note. you smile taking it out of his hand before waving him goodnight

“oh crap your jacket!”, you attempt to run after him.

“keep it, i’ll come get it next time”, you smile biting your lower lip before walking into your apartment.

[sosa2imagines]

You, me and Vegas! Part 16 (Epilogue)

Warnings- None.

After much contemplation, Peach and Bucky had decided to annul their drunk marriage. Both of them had realized that they wanted to start their relationship from a clean slate, without any rushed decisions hanging over their heads.

Bucky had been more than willing to go through with the annulment, as he knew it was the right thing to do. But secretly, as he watched Peach sign the papers, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

As Peach signed the annulment papers, she couldn't deny the mix of emotions bubbling up within her. On the one hand, she felt a sense of relief, knowing that they were finally doing the right thing. But on the other hand, a pang of regret tugged at her heart as she watched Bucky stand silently beside her.

Both Peach and Bucky were aware that starting their relationship afresh, was the best way forward. They were excited about this new chapter in their lives.

The annulment process had been a necessary step, but it didn't alter the fact that they cared deeply for one another, and this new beginning was an opportunity to explore those feelings further.

After the annulment, Peach decided to continue living with Bucky in his apartment. They had already grown comfortable with each other's company, and besides, moving out seemed like too much effort.

So, they continued living under the same roof, their relationship transitioning from married to something more undefined.

Living together brought them closer, allowing them to learn more about each other's quirks and habits. And deep down, both of them secretly enjoyed the fact that they were still sharing a space.

Several months after the chaotic scene in city hall, Peach and Bucky, were now officially a couple.

Life had settled into a comfortable routine for Bucky and Peach. They had navigated the ups and downs of their relationship, and their love had only grown stronger.

As time passed, Peach's writing career started taking off. Her book gained, popularity and good reviews, and she found herself penning down her thoughts, freely with Bucky being her reviewer.

On the other hand, Bucky discovered a new job that not only paid well but also granted him ample free time. He was able to dedicate time to his hobby of photography, which he had always loved but could never fully pursue due to his previous work commitments and his parents.

Speaking of his parents, as expected, they continued to be a source of frustration for him. They attempted to meddle in his life once again, disapproving of Peach and their living arrangement. But Bucky was unyielding in his determination to live his life on his own terms.

He set clear boundaries with his parents, making it abundantly clear that he wouldn't tolerate any interference in his life, especially when it came to Peach. Bucky firmly asserted that he intended to decide how to live his life, without any outside influence or control from his parents.

His parents, while unhappy with Bucky's defiant stance, eventually had no choice but to respect his boundaries. They begrudgingly accepted that Bucky was an adult and was entitled to make his own choices, even if they didn't approve.

Bucky's unwavering determination to keep his parents at bay, allowed him and Peach to live peacefully and focus on their own lives and budding relationship, free from outside interference. And his parents thinks, they are still married.

Meanwhile Andy, had taken a break from work after the chaos in the city hall. But he made sure to keep a respectful distance from Peach, not wanting a repeat of the incident.

And as for the kid with the cat toy, he had become an unofficial member of their makeshift family, often tagging along on adventures.

Despite the initial chaos caused by their unexpected marriage and the subsequent annulment, Bucky and Peach were developing a strong bond. They continued to live together, enjoying each other’s presence and growing more comfortable around each other.

Bucky's protective nature and Peach's independent spirit clashed at times, causing a few disagreements, but they always managed to find a way to resolve their issues. Their mutual respect for one another's beliefs and values helped them navigate through any bumps in the road, strengthening their connection.

Their love was a slow burn, growing quietly but undeniably with every passing day. They shared moments both big and small, from lazy afternoons spent watching movies to quiet conversations on the roof at night.

They knew each other’s favorite take-out orders, the songs they sang in the shower, and the way they took their coffee. They would catch each other's gaze across a room and know exactly what the other was thinking, without a single word being spoken.

Bucky, who tended to hide his feelings behind a gruff exterior, slowly let his guard down around Peach. He would surprise her with little acts of kindness, like leaving a note on her pillow or making her breakfast in the mornings.

Peach, in turn, made Bucky laugh. She had a sharp wit and a habit of saying exactly what was on her mind. She would tease him for his overprotectiveness and gently nudge him out of his brooding moods.

Their love for each other kept on growing.

Every time Bucky and Peach passed by the chapel where they had gotten married, they would exchange a knowing smile and laugh. They had a running joke about how they had ended up there in the first place, and they never failed to find amusement in the memory.

Bucky, despite the chaos of their beginnings, was enjoying the moment, relishing in their relationship as it continued to grow. Though, in the back of his mind, he harbored a secret, hopeful thought – that one day, they would go back to that chapel sober, with proper vows and rings, to make it official for real.

Bucky would subtly glance Peach's way, watching for any sign that she was thinking the same thing he was. He was eager for the day when they could make good on their secret hope, but he didn't want to pressure her into anything.

Peach, sensing Bucky's hidden desire, occasionally gave him a sly smile. She knew exactly what was on his mind, but she was enjoying this slow burn, savoring the build-up to the future they both secretly longed for.

Bucky and Peach were sitting on a park bench, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

Bucky's arm was draped over Peach's shoulders, his fingers idly playing with a strand of her hair. Peach was snuggled into his side, a small smile on her face.

As they watched the sun set, Bucky looked down at Peach and gently tucked the strand of hair he was playing with behind her ear.

“You know what I just realized?” he said, a lopsided grin on his face. “I still don't like Andy.”

Peach had a hearty laugh, “Please be civil with him, he only tried to help you.”

“Okay, okay…You know what else I just realized?” he said, again with lopsided grin on his face.

“What?” Peach asked, looking up at him with a curious expression.

Bucky leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead before answering. “I can't imagine my life without you,” he said, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability. “You've made my life brighter, more exciting. I don't ever want to let you go.”

Peach's heart fluttered at his words, and she reached up to caress his cheek. “Good, because you're stuck with me,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“I love you Peach.” “I love you Bucky.”

As the last streaks of sunlight faded, Bucky, unable to resist any longer, turned to face Peach. He gently cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin. She smiled up at him, her eyes reflecting the soft light of the setting sun.

Without a word, Bucky leaned in and captured her lips in a tender kiss. The world around them seemed to shrink away, leaving only the sensation of their lips meeting and the sound of their shared breaths.

Part 15 - ✅

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[22drunkb]

Do you think he was ever in love with Bedelia like he was in love with Will? I ask this because Bedelia says they were both the "brides of Hannibal". But Hannibal never courted her like he did with Will, Bedelia came into Hannibal's life much before Will but he never pursued her like he did with Will. Mads said he wanted a future with Will unlike with other people he hooked up with Alana, Bedelia or Anthony. He took her to Italy as a consolation prize when Will betrayed him. Even in Italy H was pining about Will all the time and telling Bedelia how much he loves Will. I know he slept with Bedelia but he probably slept with Anthony too and he slept with Alana, Hannibal is a hedonistic guy who sleeps around. For him sleeping with someone doesn't mean he is in love with them. But when Will confronts Bedelia, she pretends as if Hannibal held them in the same regard which is obviously not true. Hannibal would choose Will over her in a heart beat and even she knows it but yet she acts as if Hannibal sees them both equally. I don't understand why? 😭 Why do you think?why make herself seem like a competition when she is not?

I think you're misunderstanding the meaning of "bride" here. It doesn't mean beloved. It doesn't mean favorite. It doesn't necessarily mean sex. It means something more like what Chiyoh meant when she called Bedelia "his bird": "He puts us [birds] in cages to see what we'll do."

Hannibal collects people, generally. Most of his therapy patients are collectibles. He collects them because he sees potential in them for "becoming," for expressing an inner potential that interests him and that he thinks, in his own way, it would be good and true to themselves for them to express. (This generally amounts to some kind of murdering or violence.) He may be interested to see what will happen when his collectibles are transformed, but he doesn't find it terribly hard to imagine or predict. The people he has sex with don't even all fall into this category; I don't think he particularly was interested in Alana's potential becoming, for instance, though things did work out that way (but, in some ways, more at Will's hand than at Hannibal's).

That said, the category of "collectible" is large and includes both Will and Bedelia. However, there's another category, a subset, within that, which Will, Bedelia, Chiyoh, and Abigail occupy: that's "bird." These are people whose behavior is less predictable and therefore more interesting and engrossing. In the process of transforming his collectibles-in-general, he doesn't necessarily show these objects of interest much about himself. His true self, that is, rather than the mask. The four I just named get more of a look. However, Chiyoh and Abigail get their views not entirely at Hannibal's choosing: Chiyoh is from his past, and Abigail figured a fair amount out herself. (It's more complicated than this, but for that reason I don't think it's helpful to get into these two further here.) There are, as far as we know, only two people who've gained much insight into him entirely of his own volition: Bedelia and Will.

Both Will and Bedelia are people Hannibal collected and then cultivated in order to have someone to share himself with. I am not saying that that meant he felt exactly the same way about them, or that he shared the same things or to the same degree. But Hannibal put his therapist in a position to murder not only because he saw that potential in her and wanted to bring it out, as with all collectibles, but also to gain a certain degree of control over her so he'd have a therapist he could actually talk to. It's hinted in their pre-Florence sessions that she does not want to continue being his therapist but feels she has little choice.

Hannibal saw that collectible potential in Will and, like Bedelia, wanted him to be someone he could show himself to, albeit in different ways and to a more profound degree. Less utilitarian and more romantic. He made it very clear in the s2 finale that he wanted that more than anything: "I let you see me, know me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it." (Or something like that, I'm paraphrasing from memory.)

What is necessary for him to select these two people to be seen by is for him to respect them, in his own way. He does not respect all his collectibles, though he's interested in them. He respects Chiyoh and Abigail more, but in a "precocious child" kind of way, rather than anything peerlike. But, Bedelia: he does actually listen to what Bedelia says. He forces her to let him play patient to some degree, but, within the role of patient, he squirms at some of her insights and defends himself the way a patient who feels that their therapist has power does. He values her input enough to subject himself to it. He enjoys her company enough to take her to Florence. She can't "surprise" him the way Will can, and he's not enamored and fascinated with her the same way. But he does hold respect for her. If we were to view what I said about the patient dynamic he has with her as a BDSM thing (which....it is), he chose her to play the dom, which is a pretty big deal, really.

I don't disagree with you that his interest in Will is qualitatively different. But they have both, at different times, been someone he chose to know him. That's a special status. It is also a status of being kept, to some degree: Bedelia didn't have the option not to be his therapist, and, as Will feels once he gets sucked back in after his time with Molly, he never really had the option to escape either. Birds again.

In the "We've both been his bride" conversation, it's Will who comes in with an aggressive, competitive energy, not Bedelia. He calls her "bride" first, and she responds by saying that Will has been too--i.e., why are you so mad at me? Why are you displacing your feelings here? (That is, she's being a therapist.) Through the whole conversation, Bedelia is actually trying to get Will to see that they aren't the same, and that Hannibal cares for him and belongs to him in a way he didn't to Bedelia. It's just that to get Will there, she first has to get him to admit that he has been attached to/chosen by Hannibal at least as much as she has, before she can show him that his position goes further. She's not setting herself up as a rival at all. Will came in angry because he subconsciously saw her that way, and she is working with that starting point to get him to understand better. This is the conversation that leads Will to ask, "Is Hannibal in love with me?", which he never could have brought himself to consciously articulate without her guidance.

I wrote a whole post just about this conversation, if you'd like further explanation. See also this and this from @bonearenaofmyskull.

[cinnamonest]

Okay imagine Diluc with his darling being a captain of the knights. Like after he was away after what happened to Crepus she gets the role of captain. Better yet if they were like childhood friends or their parents arranged their marriage when they were young. So when Crepus died and Diluc ran off to archons knows where, she decided to pursue what she wants in life. So just imagine the shock Diluc would have when he expected to come home and take her into his household and she would one day have his children, only to find their arrangement is called off. He firmly believes that his darling should have no involvement with the knights, she should be back at the winery as his housewife.

The next time she tries to go to the Angel’s Share to get a drink with Kaeya and Eula after a hard day’s work, she is banned from the bar. When she asks why, she gets no other answer than it is what Diluc said. Diluc hoped she would have come and talked to him after that but instead Kaeya and Eula decided to take her out to the Cat’s Tail instead if they can’t all drink together at the Angel’s Share. She has completely moved on with Diluc and instead have met knew friends within the knights.

Then imagine if Diluc confronts his brother about her and Kaeya basically tells him to leave her alone and tells him if he tries to do anything he’ll have the entirety of the knights on his ass.

Protective best friend Kaeya thoughts™️

Diluc is plagued by that typical Man Thing™ where he just sort of views you as this sort of… thing. Things are static. If you leave them sitting on a shelf, leave and come back, they’ll be right where you left them. They don’t change and grow, they don’t have an existence of their own. He has a habit of thinking of you this way — his mind doesn’t process the fact that while he’s gone, you’ll continue to live your life, that you’ll talk to people and do things and make choices. Or rather, it feels like he’s the center of your life, that it revolves around him, so nothing important can happen to you if he’s not there. He imagines you’ll just be all sad and wistfully waiting for him like a housewife waiting on her husband to return from the war or whatever.

But ohhhh the falling out between those two makes things so much worse. You're hanging out with him? After he explicitly told you not to, before he left? You... deliberately went out of your way to go against his very clear orders?

This is made even more bizarre by the fact that you were raised to obey him. Even when you were young, you were made aware that he was your future husband and that whenever you saw each other, you were supposed to do everything he says and bow your head and be pleasant and sweet and never raise your voice and be respectful and speak softly and so on and so on, all the proper manners and such that were instilled in you. He was used to that. You were obedient, loyal. What happened to you? Did you forget what he said before leaving?

No, it has to be his influence. There's no way his perfect wife-to-be would ever make a conscious decision on her own to disobey.

He's not exactly wrong, you've spent the last few years with Kaeya more or less every day, who’s always telling you how you shouldn't let yourself be tied down by something as archaic as arranged marriage, you should be out here drinking and living life to the fullest and spending time with him instead and all that. He's just looking out for your best interests. How cruel of society to lock you into some arrangement where you’re expected to obey some man's every word, when you should be choosing to listen to him instead (on you own volition, of course, he'd never say you have to listen to him, but you know, you still should, because he gives good advice and all).

But you do feel guilty. Terrible, really, thinking you've hurt your ex-betrothed. You do like him, he was just so… controlling, stern and all. Maybe if you talk things out, you can still be together, but you know, in an equal, mutually respectful relationship, without any expectations of submission and obedience on either end and all that. Sure he was raised a certain way, but that doesn't mean he can't change, right?

So against the advice, you do decide to go talk to him. You haven't seen him in so long, the memories — and your awareness of his ways and nature — feel very distant. Less real. You're used to reasonable people, and you've changed a lot, you're sure he's changed too. It's a maturity thing, right?

He'll be happy to see you, since he's been practically begging you to come back, writing letters asking — well, more like demanding, but still — for you to talk to him. You're sure he's matured a lot over the years of absence. He'll surely be willing to adapt to a different mindset once he just listens to you and lets you talk — he'd let you talk, right? It's true that when you were younger, on the few times you insisted on defiance, he'd eventually grab your jaw and tell you to be quiet, but that was then. This is now.

And if you can't come to a mutual understanding, you'll just walk out the door and leave. Sure, likewise, when you got into mild disagreements when you were younger he would grab you by the arm and physically block the door until you submitted and conceded and apologized for such unbefitting behavior, but… he's outgrown that, surely… you think.

[novasintheroom]

As they got closer, would Prince Vash ever consider giving his wife a proper proposal one day? I'm assuming since it was arranged, it was more of a "He sent you a ring (It was most likely Nai rather than Vash)" sort of situation or a proposal that was very staged.

Maybe Vash suggests it as a joke to his wife/or maybe she asked him how he would do it (because, as she gets to know him, it's very obvious that he didn't plan it). However as he's doing it, Vash realizes that his feelings are truly much deeper than he thought.

Hey anon! Thanks for sending this in, I really had to think hard on it. This happens way later in their relationship, hence the ending. I hope this lives up to expectations! <3

--

“If you were to propose to me, how would you do it?”

Vash looks up from his book he was reading to you, sitting across from him. The night has fallen, and with it comes your new ritual of reading together before bed. The candles on the walls cast a soft glow of gold. You’re curled up on the armchair of his room, your own book in hand. Yet, he sees you fiddling with your wedding band, and frowns. “What, uh, why?”

You shrug, one leg coming out from your skirts to roll your ankle. Vash stares at the bare skin for a moment before looking back at you. “Just…wondering, I suppose. We saw those two proposals in the villages a few days ago, and it’s so different than how we…” You sigh through your nose and finally look up at him. “I suppose…I don’t know. I know our marriage was – is a contract of convenience, but, I’ve gotten to know you, and, well, I can see that you would have done it differently if given the chance.”

Vash leans back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

You’re looking at your ring again. “There’s no way you would have picked a ring like this.”

And you’re right. It’s big, gaudy. Inlaid with sapphires and ice-cold diamonds, it screams power and wealth – two of the most opposite things Vash has ever pursued. Something warms in Vash’s chest, and he closes his book, getting up from his chair with a groan. You look up, a slight worry in your eyes – you’re always worrying you said something wrong. Vash’s easy smile abates your fears. He stands before you with his hand held out.

Gently, you place your left hand in it. Vash thumbs over the giant square diamond at the center of the ring. Pah, leave it to Nai to choose a ring this ugly. It doesn’t suit you. Not with how quiet and simply you live. Not with your kind pleasantness and golden heart. “Do you want a new ring? I can get one made for you?”

“What I want,” you say, staring up at him, “is to know how you would have proposed to me.”

He feels a hot flush rise to his cheeks. “You mean I couldn’t get away with sending the marriage contract over?” He laughs when you swat his stomach, faking an ‘oof’ just for you. “Alright, alright, let me think…”

Vash doesn’t let go of your hand, thumbing over your knuckles, your ring, as he does. “Well, for starters, I’d give you a better ring than that. Something simpler, maybe. With rubies.”

“You and the color red,” you joke.

He shrugs and grins. “It’s always been my color.” Carefully, he takes your wedding band off and rubs where the ring sat. “That thing is huge. Does it weigh down your finger?”

You purse your lips. “No, but it does catch on my skirts every now and then.”

“Ah,” he says, staring at your lips. He shakes himself and continues. “I’d probably take you out to the palace gardens to do it. Maybe in the hidden gazebo, so I could ask you privately.”

“There’s a hidden gazebo?”

“Shh, don’t interrupt!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, using your free hand to cover your mouth and wait.

Vash clears his throat and gets on one knee. “Then, after I’ve thoroughly and completely wooed you with my devilish charm and quick wit – “ he ignores your rude snort “ – I’d tell you – “ He pauses again, this time to think.

You wait, shifting your legs under you. “Well?”

Vash looks up at you, heart suddenly in his throat. He feels the ring in his hand, that massive, chunky thing, and feels small, staring up at you. Is this how men are supposed to feel before their wives? Meek and submissive and – and in love? He looks at your eyes, your nose, your lips, your ears, your hair, your hands. Vash cannot deny he is in love. And for once, he is willing to show it to the person who matters most.

So, taking your hand in both of his, he begins earnestly. “We did not know each other growing up. We did not know each other when we met. But we know each other now, and that is the greatest gift I have ever received. You are kind, and prickly in the mornings, and have a love for peaches, and so, so wonderful in your quiet, dignified way. You make me laugh, and think, and I…I don’t know how I got through life without someone like you by my side. You’re amazing, and, if you’ll have me, I’d like to be your husband…forever.” He slips the ring back onto your finger and looks up to you.

You’re quiet. You have tears in your eyes. Your mouth moves in waves, trying to form words. “That,” you clear your throat, but it doesn't help, “that was beautiful. I’m sure the girl you’re in love with would have…would have fallen right into your arms.”

“Well, not exactly. You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

Your grin is telling. There’s a relief that comes with it. You both know you are in love with each other. It just took some time to come to terms with it. And with Vash’s sudden confession, it becomes so easy to accept it. You scramble off your seat and hug Vash to you, squishing his head to your chest while his arms come around your thighs.

Weeks later, you’d find a box with a ring inside it inside your room. You’d open it, and with a laugh, put on the new, ruby-inlaid ring, leaving the old clunky one to gather dust in your jewelry box. For my wife, the note would say, whom I love dearly.

[insane-brit]

Royalty (Ch. 2)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!Fem!reader

Park Links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/Warnings: Enemies to lovers, semi slow burn, dark story/themes, violence, fighting, mentions of prostitution/entertainment, anxiety, shock, anger, flashback.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 2.7K

The trek to Yoshiwara felt almost effortless despite her interpersonal matters. Her mind was consumed with staring at the thread protruding from her wrist. Receiving this gift bestowed upon her kept her from an ounce of rest that night. She marveled at the tie and couldn’t help the flurry of questions that infiltrated her mind. As much as she prided herself in problem-solving and anything clever, her intellect was stumped. Regardless, she thanked whatever higher power for this opportunity that had forsaken her from a young age.  

She kept her promise to Tengen as much as she wanted to find him and ramble about the occurrence. He would be happy for her but the nagging in her mind knew that it would be selfish to present this information to him when his wives were in potential danger. When the sun broke through the horizon and dawn showed its lovely face, she packed her things and set off. It had been a day or two and the path ahead was cracked. Clear evidence was strewn about of it being a well-traveled route. She supposed that was a good thing. The blazing heat caused sweat to bead along her forehead and nape. Pulling on her haori, she fanned herself in a fruitless attempt to circulate air. 

It wouldn’t be long before she reached the district. The pit in her stomach from the night her thread appeared was still apparent. She thought that it was her intuition expecting something to happen. That something being the appearance of her soul tie, but with every passing minute, it never ceased. She had attempted to suppress the feeling while remaining cautious, but it would relapse and grow every time she tried to forget it. It caused her to lash out at a poor maple tree the previous night. Her Nichirin sword left deep grooves in the bark as she unleashed her irritability and unease. Lucky for her the outburst did not harm her blade. She did not have the time nor patience to deal with Haganezuka and his damned vengeance that would be seeking her blood. That man would know the moment any of his blades even had a scratch and the next minute he’d be screaming obscenities with steel to your throat. Sighing, she chuckled at the thought. He cared for his work, and she admired him for that.

The sun continued its descent to the horizon, the atmosphere growing ever so slightly cooler as she pursued the winding path. The tree’s canopy bestowed some shade upon her figure and a faint breeze accompanied the peaceful atmosphere. If she had to guess, she would make it to Yoshiwara a bit after the sun's rays faded under the vista. Perfect timing on her part and she mentally patted herself on the back.

The shade around her grew until it covered the terrain and a chill shot down her spine. The breeze blew some wisps of hair in front of her face. Caressing her features as she clutched the Tsuka of her blade. The ray skin was coarse against her palm and she gripped it until her knuckles turned white. There was virtually no sound. The birds were silent, cicadas halted their clamor, and all that was heard was the fluttering of leaves. Her heart was in her throat threatening to claw its way out, but she was static. Eyes swept across the dense foliage, searching for the source that caused much attentiveness. 

The crunching and rustling of leaves and twigs promptly made itself known as a commotion rapidly approached her stable form. The movement of air being cut resounded to her right and she swerved as an amalgamation of leathery skin settled in the spot she once stood. Its landing kicked up filth and a cloud of dust blew upwards. Eyes hardening, she readied herself as it subsided. Revealing one of the more grotesque demons she has ever had the pleasure of encountering. Its frame was thin, skin stretched over its bones. Back turned to her, it jolted, and she could hear cracking as its limbs moved unnaturally. The bending of tendons and grinding of joints had her mentally winching. 

“Wretched thing.” She seethed, angling her katana. The blade flashed in the dying rays of the sun and the emerging moonlight that peaked through the canopy. It snapped its head towards her, the eyes were pitch black with a single prick of white in the center and a red line streaked across it. A smile, full of needle-like teeth stretched as it locked its gaze onto her. It darted back and forth between her face and sword. If it was even possible, the grin got wider. 

“A Hashira,” its voice was grainy and sandpaper-like. “Lucky me.” 

She growled lowly and gritted her teeth. How revolting, and to think she was almost to her destination without getting into any trouble.

“I think you’ll find yourself unlucky.”  Digging her foot into the dirt she lunged at the monstrosity. Its face contorted in what looked to be glee before parrying her attack. Retaliating in a flurry of precise assaults aimed to incapacitate the slayer. She veered away with ease and brought her foot up, slamming it into its chest. Staggering backward it groaned, hesitating, and looking stunned. 

“Come on demon!” She hissed and swung her blade. The demon dodged and glared at her. Not making any sudden moves and being motionless. She furrowed her brows and kicked up dust to distract it. Why wasn’t it trying harder? It’s not even moving. 

She had advanced behind it and leaped. Readying her blade to strike its vital point. To sever its head from its neck and watch its twisted body disintegrate. It cocked its head towards her. Eyes wide and mouth stretched into a tight line. It seemed like it was forcibly constant. It raised its arm in a futile attempt to block as she sliced right through the flesh like butter despite its appearance. 

The body stiffened and collapsed in a heap as the head rolled. Coming to a stop a few feet away from her. She watched the expression on its face contort in a multitude of emotions.  “To think, for a second I thought you would’ve fought harder.” She smirked and sheathed her sword. It still looked at her. An expression of shock and something she couldn’t recognize. Frowning, she dusted herself off before turning away from the slowly deteriorating demon. 

“The progenitor.” it rasped. 

She halted and looked over her shoulder. Confusion and agitation were written across her face. 

“His presence,” it choked out as its mouth started to turn to ash. “Hashira, you- “

“Enough with your delusions demon!” she hissed and glowered at the lowly creature. “Whatever scheme you’re planning in death will not deface me in any way. You mutter nonsense and plead to the thing you call Master.” 

For a demon who appeared so delighted in the prospect of fighting a slayer earlier, it was quite a weak and depressing display. Begging for its Master, Kibutsuji Muzan, and conniving to bring her into the ordeal. Maybe it was going to threaten her. Regardless, she cut it off before it could utter its last words. The lower half of its face was gone, and the rest engulfed itself into cinders. Surroundings quiet once more, she stood there staring at where the demon once lay. Disgust and unease flooded her bloodstream. 

She shuffled from one foot to the other. Mulling over the limited words the demon spoke. Sure, these creatures threatened people, especially slayers, but she can't recall one ever mentioning him in their final moments. She had to admit, it was odd, but it had to just be trying to strike fear into her. Which ultimately failed. Kibutsuji was a master at evading the corps or he was just a coward. The only one to have seen him in ages was Tanjiro and he should be thankful to be alive. If she ever came face to face with the creator of these things she wouldn’t hesitate to fight to her dying breath. That was the oath she pledged long ago, and she would be damned if she broke it. However, killing his creations would suffice for now. Taking in her surroundings, she groaned realizing she would arrive later than she hoped. 

————————————————————————

The streets of the district were flooded with people. Loud chattering and bright lights evaded her senses as she took it all in. It had been a while since she walked its streets, but not much had changed. There were still the festivities, women entertaining avaricious men and hidden trades. Pulling out some of the letters Tengen gave her, she skimmed through them and made note of the houses each wife “belonged” to. Tokito, Kyogoku, and Ogimoto. Three of the top houses in the district. 

She stepped out into the crowd, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies. It seemed that wherever she looked, more people spawned and searched for whatever kind of entertainment suited them. It felt almost impossible that she was ever going to find clues to where Tengen’s wives may be.  Much less encounter them. Going straight up to the houses didn’t feel like the best idea to her. She didn’t want to deal with the heads. Besides, if they were missing, she doubted they would know anything. Much less disclose that information to a random woman on the streets. She would have to wait for the pathways to clear if she dared try and use her forms. Even then it may attract attention, but she had to do it. She made a promise.

Pushing through the waves of people, she excused herself a multitude of times before falling silent. Opting to stick to the edge of the crowd to avoid getting swept away by its tide. Her sword had been tucked under her haori and she held it close to her side almost protectively. It brought a sense of comfort as she knew that having it meant being able to dispatch almost anything if she felt it was necessary. 

Gripping the hilt, she flinched at the sudden pressure in her wrist. Looking down, she observed her thread and saw that it had tightened slightly. Pupils blown she jerked her head up. Looking at it as it weaved itself through the crowd of passersby.  

Are they here?

Following the line, she saw that it led to a prominent house in the district, the Kyogoku House. She felt a slight pang in her heart at the thought of her soulmate engaging with other women, but maybe that wasn’t the case. She reassured herself and stepped through the crowd. A few people rammed into her, and others mumbled vulgar things as she excused herself. Just checking wouldn’t hurt right? She couldn’t make much progress in the way of using her forms to locate Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru until the masses died down anyway. At least, that’s what she told herself. Truth be told she was often unable to restrain herself when it came to certain things. Though rare, this was one of those times, but she would never admit that. 

Freeing herself from the horde she continued following the glowing fiber. It darted around a corner and felt tauter than ever before. She leaned against the wall of a building and took a deep breath. Her feet felt heavy as she stepped out from the corner. The area before her was dark. Not terribly so, but devoid of more people than the street behind her. A few mingled about and the lights gave off a subtle amber. Only illuminating a few feet away from their position. Surveying the scene, she followed the string as it stopped where darkness met light. 

A man stood there, back facing her. An obvious line hovered between them. Bleeding a scarlet hue. She squinted and stepped forward trying to get a better look at the man, but as her eyes adjusted, she froze. 

Air caught in her lungs, and she found it hard to breathe. Her mind went blank save for all but one memory. 

 ————————————————————————

Sitting next to his hospital bed at the Butterfly Mansion, she smiled softly at the young boy. He was bright, and his spirit spoke for him. It was quite rare to see such a youthful soul full of compassion and determination in the face of danger. 

“Tanjiro,” she started looking slightly downcast. “May I ask you a question?” 

He regarded her with that same smile and nodded his head. “Of course!”

Sucking in a breath, she looked away before locking her eyes with his. 

“What did Kibutsuji look like?” 

The smile that graced his face downturned as he gazed at his hands. Gripping the sheets until she swore, he would tear them. It was an immediate switch and fury radiated off him. He clenched his jaw as she went to speak but he cut her off before a sound could be uttered from her mouth. 

“Human,” he exhaled. “Completely human.” 

Cocking her head, she furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?” 

“He blended in with everyone. No one could tell that he was a demon. Only me,” the fire in his eyes smoldered as he continued. “His eyes were a deep red, black hair that hung closer to his shoulders in the front, pale skin, and he wore a black patterned suit with a white hat.” 

She could see him slightly shaking at the mention of Kibutsuji. Not from fear. It was anything but fear. 

At that moment she felt terrible. She had heard from Tomioka briefly about what had transpired in the mountains with Tanjiro’s family. Later, Tanjiro filled in the missing details himself. She felt reluctant to have learned of such an event as it felt too personal, but if he discerned her to be someone he could confide in, she wouldn’t turn him away. 

“I’ll kill him if it’s the last thing I do,” he seethed. “He’ll pay for what he’s done.” 

Remaining silent she observed him. Reaching out she put her hand on his shoulder. A means of comforting the boy, however, deep down she knew that no amount of comfort could close a wound so deep. Giving him a soft smile, she stood up. 

“I believe in you but be careful,” he looked up at her. The fire slowly smothered itself out. “You’re a good person but don’t get ahead of yourself. Your sister needs you. The corps needs you. There’s been too many people lost.” 

He studied her expression before giving her another big smile. “Right, of course!”

Regarding him with a nod of her head she turned to leave but paused. “And Tanjiro, just know you’re not alone.” 

 ————————————————————————

Bile rose and burned her throat. Swallowing her tongue was the only thing keeping her from retching. One hand pulled at her collar and the other shakily reached for the Tsuka of her Katana, the world around her seemed to slow and fall away. Gaze solely focused on the man feet away from her.

Jet black suit. A rustic gold pattern on parts.

Her eyes darted around. 

White hat.

She sucked in a breath.

Sickly skin. Dark hair.

Blood trickled and filled her mouth with iron as teeth punctured her lower lip. 

Mind racing, she pleaded for him to not turn around. This had to be a mistake. A coincidence even. There was no way this could be the same man that Tanjiro described. That this could be Kibutsuji. There had to be many others out there who looked similar. Her chest hurt from how hard her heart pounded. It was in her ears and a cold chill ran through her body. 

He appeared to be contemplating. Clearly sensing her gaping at him. Cocking his head in her direction, he fully pivoted it towards her. The coiling pit that constricted her stomach like a snake snapped. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth parted slightly. A choked noise fell on deaf ears. 

His gaze locked with hers and carnage churned in them.

The attachment tightened, locking. Signifying what she dreaded and didn’t want to admit once she feasted her eyes on him. 

His eyes were a cavernous crimson.

His pupils were slits.