#and the river bands were always moving about

[lightsmortalenemy]

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

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

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

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

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

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

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

And fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

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

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

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

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

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Talk to me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That fucking name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

Rhys. I didn't know.

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

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

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

Stop talking.

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

Stop fucking talking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you find me?"

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

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

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

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

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

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

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

Break the bond.

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

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

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

No. No, no, no.

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

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

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

"You never let me in."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let her in. Feel her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

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

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

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

Authors Note

Hey besties!

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

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

[bethsvrse]

★ WHISPER CHALLENGE ★

PAIRING Hugh Jackman x actress!reader

SUMMARY a whisper challenge at your interview for your new movie has a special surprise

WARNINGS little spicy at the end but other then that it’s just fluff

The lights brighten, the band strikes up a tune, and the studio audience is buzzing with excitement. Jimmy Fallon’s voice cuts through the noise with his signature infectious energy.

“Welcome back, everyone!” Jimmy Fallon’s voice booms over the studio, pulling the crowd’s attention back to the stage. “Tonight, we have a very special guest with us! She’s an incredible actress, a producer, a writer, and she just so happens to be starring in the new film Little Light. Please give it up for Y/N Jackman!”

You step onto the stage, beaming as the audience erupts into cheers and applause. You wave, offering them that warm, genuine smile you’ve perfected over the years. Settling into the guest chair, you take a moment to appreciate the atmosphere—there’s something so alive about being on Jimmy’s show.

Jimmy beams at you, leaning forward in his chair, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “I have to say, Y/N, it’s great to have you back. You’re always such a fun guest, and now you’re starring in Little Light — which I’ve heard so many incredible things about. It’s a powerful story.”

You nod, crossing one leg over the other as you settle in. “Yes, uh Little Light is really close to my heart. It’s about a mother who experiences a miscarriage and finds an unexpected connection with her neighbor’s granddaughter, who’s staying with her grandmother for the summer.”

Jimmy nods, looking thoughtful. “That sounds like such a moving story, I’m so excited to watch it. And—if I’m not mistaken—you’re starring in the movie alongside your own daughter, River?”

A smile crosses your face, a mix of pride and affection filling your voice. “Yes, that’s right. River plays the granddaughter in the film, and she’s absolutely phenomenal. I mean, I’m biased, obviously, but she blew me away on set. She’s 16 now and really coming into her own as an actress. She’s got such natural talent, and working with her… it’s been such an incredible experience.”

The audience lets out a collective “aww,” and Jimmy grins, his eyes widening in that playful way he has. “Sixteen?! She’s already acting with her mum—how cool is that?”

“Yeah, sixteen going on thirty, I swear,” you joke, shaking your head with a smile. “But, to be honest, it hasn’t been easy. With her rising career, my work, Hugh’s work, we’re constantly on the move. It’s hard to balance everything sometimes. And right now, she’s back at the hotel, actually. She wasn’t feeling too great, so she’s watching this on TV, probably critiquing every word I say.” You chuckle and wave at the camera. “Hey, sweetie! Get well soon, I love you.” You added with a small kiss to the camera.

Jimmy leans forward conspiratorially. “So, does she give you notes after interviews like this?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “She’ll text me after every appearance like, ‘Mum, why did you say that?’ or ‘You looked a bit awkward there.’ She’s brutally honest. But I love it.”

Jimmy laughs along with you before shifting in his chair. “You know, something else I heard… and you can tell me if this is true… you haven’t seen Hugh in almost a year?”

“Sadly, that is correct,” you say with a wistful sigh. “With Little Light being an Australian movie, we filmed it there—which, don’t get me wrong, was absolutely amazing to be back home—but it meant that River and I were always across the world. We’d typically be filming in America, so a 10-hour flight was manageable to visit Hugh. But an 18-hour one? Neither of us could do it with filming so it’s been tough. FaceTime has been our best friend at the moment,” you joked with a small laugh, trying to lighten the tension in the room that Jimmy could definitely feel, not so much the audience though.

Jimmy looks genuinely sympathetic. “That’s gotta be so hard, especially after all this time together. But you two… you’ve been through a lot, and you always seem to make it work.”

You nod appreciatively. “We do. We’ve been married for a long time now, and we’ve gotten pretty good at the long-distance thing. But it’s never easy. The reunions, though… those are always something special.”

After some more laughs and talking about the movie, it’s time for the commercial break. You sip some water, chatting briefly with Jimmy off-camera, as the stagehands move around preparing for the next segment.

As the cameras roll back on, Jimmy is already in game mode. “Alright, Y/N! You know we love to play games here, so I figured we’d try something a little fun,” he says, holding up a pair of headphones.

You laugh softly, already anticipating whatever wild challenge is coming. “Oh boy, what have you got in store for me, Jimmy?”

“We’re gonna play the ‘Whisper Challenge!’” he announces, holding up the headphones for the audience to see. “I’m going to wear these headphones and try to guess what you’re saying while I listen to loud music, then it’ll be your turn. Sound good?”

You nod, leaning back in your chair with a playful glint in your eyes. “Sounds great!“

Jimmy slips on his headphones and gives you a thumbs-up. The music starts blasting in his ears, and you mouth the phrase silently, moving your lips in exaggerated fashion.

Jimmy squints at you, clearly baffled. “Uh… Salad dressing?” he guesses.

The audience erupts into laughter as you shake your head, mouthing the phrase again.

“Santa’s resting?” Jimmy tries again, causing another round of laughter.

You give him one more exaggerated mouth of the phrase. “Shopping center?” He said confused, “I’m so bad at this,” he said, much more loudly then he meant form the music coming from his head phones.

You repeated the words once more, putting on as much emphasis as you could and you watched as Jimmy’s face lit up. “Little Light! Little Light!” He said excitedly before taking off his headphones, “it was little light right?” He asked almost worried.

You let out a small laugh with a nod, “yes, yes it was little light.”

“Whew! I was worried I’d never get that one. I wasn’t even close as well, Santa’s resting? Where did I get that,” Jimmy chuckles, slipping off his headphones and shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, your turn!”

He hands you the headphones, and as you place them over your ears, you give him a grin. The loud music blasts into your ears almost immediately, and you can't help but laugh to yourself—this was definitely River’s favorite song. She’d been playing it nonstop in the car, at home… pretty much everywhere.

Jimmy raises his voice slightly to speak over the music, “What’s playing?”

You respond without thinking, still adjusting the headphones so they were no longer on your ears. “What? Oh shit—wait, are we playing yet?! Sorry for swearing! My bad!” you blurt out, the apology spilling out before you even register Jimmy laughing across from you.

“No, no! You’re good!” Jimmy reassures you, still chuckling. “I asked you what song was playing.” He repeated

“It’s murder on the dance floor,” you answered, “River absolutely loves this song.” You added, flashing him a sheepish grin before putting the headphones back on. The game begins, and as Jimmy starts mouthing words, you do your best to concentrate, squinting as if that might help you somehow decipher the movements of his lips.

“your husband is behind you.” He said, emphasing the word.

You tilt your head, not quite catching what he said. “The tour is behind me? What?” You shrug, honestly still a little distracted by the music.

The audience suddenly bursts into loud cheers, and you notice the energy in the room shift. Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back at Jimmy, who’s now practically glowing with excitement. He repeats himself slowly, exaggerating every word, “YOUR HUSBAND… IS BEHIND YOU.”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, you feel a pair of hands gently land on your shoulders. You jump slightly, your headphones slipping off as you whirl around—only to see Hugh standing right there, grinning down at you.

Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open in shock. Without thinking, you spin in your chair, shifting to kneel on the cushion so you can throw your arms around him. The audience erupts into applause and cheers as you hug him tightly, not even caring that you’re half-perched on the chair. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, savoring the moment of finally having him close after so long apart.

Hugh chuckles softly, his voice warm and full of affection. “Missed me?”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, still in disbelief. “You have no idea,” you whisper, your smile so big it almost hurts. “Oh my god.”

Jimmy laughs, clapping his hands together as the audience’s cheers grow louder. "Hugh Jackman, everybody!" he calls out, standing up and joining in the applause.

Hugh gives a small wave to the audience before turning his attention back to you. You’re still in shock, hands covering your mouth as you try to comprehend what just happened. The cameras catch every second of your raw, genuine reaction, and it’s clear to everyone that this moment means everything to you.

Jimmy, ever the showman, grins and says, “I think we just had the best Whisper Challenge moment in history right here!”

You laugh, watching as Hugh comes to sit next to you. “I did not expect that. You sneaky bastard,” you joke, playfully swatting his arm.

Hugh chuckles, his arm resting behind you. “I figured I’d surprise you, and when Jimmy reached out to me about it, I thought, ‘Why not?’ It’s been way too long.”

Jimmy leans forward, loving every second of this wholesome interaction. “So, Hugh, how did you manage to keep this a secret from Y/N?”

“Oh, it wasn’t easy,” Hugh admits, smirking. “I had to avoid every FaceTime call for the last few days so I wouldn’t slip up. But it was worth it.”

You shake your head, still smiling, feeling your heart swell with happiness. “I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

Hugh chuckles, taking your hand in his. “It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Jimmy sits back down, looking at Hugh with newfound enthusiasm. “Alright, Hugh, now that you’re here, I’ve gotta ask—how excited are you to see Little Light?”

Hugh’s eyes light up. “Oh, I’m thrilled! I’ve seen some early footage, and it’s incredible. I tried to get Y/N to show me more but she won’t budge.”

You laugh, looking over at him lovingly, “just because your my husband doesn’t mean you get special treatment.” You teased

“I showed you unreleased Deadpool and Wolverine footage!” Hugh defended with a smile.

“You wanted to! You said you desperately needed someone to talk to about it because Ryan was annoying you.” You replied

“I did not say that. Stop putting words in my mouth,” he says with a small shake of his head but still having a smile on his face.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth! If anything River is because she told me that’s what you said on the phone!” You said, Hugh letting out a laugh, muttering of course she did under his breath.

“Speaking of River, what do you think about her acting career? I mean, she’s following in her parents’ footsteps in a big way.” Jimmy asked with a smile

Hugh’s face softens with pride as he talks about his daughter. “I’m incredibly proud of her. She’s got so much talent and dedication. Watching her grow and develop her craft has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. She’s worked so hard, and seeing her succeed is just amazing. We have to get all of us in a film together.” He added with a soft laugh.

“I’m sure she’s jumping up and down in the hotel room because she gets to see her dad again.” Jimmy smiles.

“I can actually call her,” Hugh mentions casually as he brings out his phone.

“Oh my god, yes.” Jimmy nodded, leaning in as it rang.

“You can get mad at her for being sick,” you told Jimmy with a smirk.

The phone rings a few more times before River picks up, her voice immediately full of energy. “Oh my god,I can’t believe you’re here!” She explained happily. “I wish I was there. Why the hell did I have to be sick today of all days.” She sighed, “I do have to say that if you don’t come straight to the hotel after the interview I will genuinely never speak to you again.”

Hugh laughs softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You heard that, right? No pressure or anything." He looks at you and Jimmy with a grin.

"She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?" Jimmy teases, leaning forward as if he’s sharing a secret.

You nod, chiming in with a smirk, “Completely. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

River’s voice comes through the speaker, playfully annoyed. “Mum, don’t gang up on him! I’m sick, remember?”

“Oh trust me, I know,” you say, feigning seriousness. “I’m the one who had to watch The Office with you for the past two days.”

Hugh chuckles, shaking his head. “You love it, admit it.”

“I do, I do, I got to baby her again so it was great,” you confess with a laugh, before addressing River again. “Alright, sweetie, we’ll come straight to the hotel after this, I promise.”

“You’d better,” River replies, her tone softening. “Love you both. Get through the rest of the interview, then come hang out with your sick daughter.”

“Love you too,” Hugh says before hanging up the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He leans back in his chair, looking content. “She’s always keeping us on our toes.”

Jimmy smiles warmly, looking between the two of you. “I’ve gotta say, you three are the definition of family goals. I love it.”

You glance at Hugh, sharing a knowing look before turning back to Jimmy. “We’re pretty lucky, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I think that’s a perfect note to wrap things up. Y/N, Hugh, thank you both so much for being here. It’s been an absolute pleasure. And Hugh, it’s always great to have you. Don’t forget, everyone—go see Little Light in cinemas August 14th, and mark your calendars for Deadpool and Wolverine on July 26th!” Jimmy says with a large smile.

The interview wraps with a warm round of applause, and as soon as the cameras stop rolling, you and Hugh exchange quick smiles with Jimmy before stepping off the stage. The lights dim, and the lively hum of the audience fades into the background as you make your way toward the backstage area. Hugh’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you closer as you navigate the narrow hallway.

As soon as you’re inside the dressing room, the tension hits like a wave. Hugh’s hand doesn’t leave your side, fingers brushing your waist like he’s scared you’ll slip away again. The door barely clicks shut before his lips crash into yours—no hesitation, no holding back, just pure need after a year of waiting.

You melt into him immediately, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders, fingers digging in as if you need to make sure he’s solid, that this isn’t just another dream of him that you’ll wake up from alone. The kiss deepens, hot and urgent, months of distance and longing pouring into it. The way he holds you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, makes your heart skip.

Your back hits the door with a thud, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss, breathless but teasing as you mumble against his lips, “You know... someone might hear us.”

His lips curve into a grin, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, forehead resting against yours, his eyes dark with hunger. His hands slide down your body, fingers tightening at your hips, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. “Let them,” he breathes, voice low, almost a growl. “I don’t give a damn. I’ve waited a whole fucking year for this. For you. Let the whole world hear.”

Your laugh comes out soft, shaky, your heart pounding in your chest like it’s trying to keep pace with his. You let your hands wander down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “I missed you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. Then you pull him back into a kiss—this one slower, more deliberate, but still burning with the intensity that’s been building for far too long.

Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, feels like it’s pulling you deeper into him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself give in. His hands explore, tracing your sides, your back, reacquainting themselves with every inch of you. You respond in kind, your hands sliding beneath his shirt, fingers mapping the familiar lines of his torso, rediscovering every scar, every dip and ridge of muscle.

The kiss breaks only when you’re both gasping for air, but even then, neither of you pulls away. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, and for a moment, the world fades away. It’s just the two of you, the rest of the universe outside that door forgotten.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight as if he can’t believe you’re really here. “I thought about you every day,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper, rough with emotion. “I couldn’t stop. I tried. But nothing... nothing feels right without you.”

Your heart clenches at his words, and you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “I know,” you whisper back, your voice soft but steady. “Me too.”

He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second, every inch of you. It’s not just about need anymore—it’s about the connection, about being with the one person who feels like home. You don’t need to speak; the way his hands hold you, the way his lips move against yours, says it all.

Looks like River might need to hold off a bit longer before she gets to see her dad again.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Have you talked about the agriculture and infrastructure of AEIWAM? Cause in the show we see the people of Seireitei eating, but they’re dead, so that’s a lot of dead people to be feeding. Plus you’ve established the mail service so public services are available in a way.

What’s the food situation look like? Do we have entire districts of people farming? Are there laws about it? Who can be bribed with a very specific food?

Autism Voice: How much are you prepared to learn about this topic? Because there's 5,236 words under the cut. Godspeed.

So in canon, souls don't "need" to eat, but do so out of habit, and also the rukongai is largely a feudalistic economy, which is not how habits OR feudalism work.

Not to drastically oversimplify enormous fields of history, political theory and socioeconomic, but if you were ever wondering WHY someone would tolerate living in a feudal system, the answer largely is "Because it beat the fuck out of the previous system, 'constant and devastating warfare'."

How feudalism gets started is easy:

There's a very large amount of people with no effective unified government for whatever reason (humans just moved into the area/an empire collapsed/a volcano blew up the general everything, etc.), and a limited amount of arable land, and therefore, a limited amount of food.

There's always a few assholes, and those assholes immediately try to establish dominance over the good turf with violence. This is the "constant warfare" phase of the agrarian government cycle.

In response, everyone bands together with their families and immediate neighbors to create defenses against The Marauding Assholes.

If one village is particularly defensible, or one marauder is particularly good at defense-breaking, people start to move in with whoever they think will do a better job of helping them stay fed. eventually these groups get big enough to need some kind of organization, and the organization tends to default to transactional loyalty.

I swear to god this is about the food situation.

The Transaction is thus: In exchange for taxes and you occasionally being called in for military Service, your Lord keeps the Marauding assholes away and does the obnoxiously complicated work of governance that helps farming but is too time-consuming for any farmer to actually do. Sounds like a good deal, right?

Smart people will recognize several glaring omissions and problems with that deal, but that's not important right now. After decades of "constant and devastating warfare", this is a relatively sane and fair deal.

This transactional loyalty continues up the political food chain: The leaders of several villages along a river need to coordinate efforts along that river or whatever, so they pick One Guy to be The Lord of the River Districts, typically the most popular guy in the clique.

...Or the one with the most heavily armed peasants.

In exchange for coordinating all the traffic/trade/environmental conditions along the river and ensuring peace between all the river districts, The River Lord also gets paid taxes and can call on all the River Lords to turn up with the heavily armed peasants should trouble come knocking.

Eventually, the River Lord makes an alliance with the neighboring Plains Lord and Mountain Lord and the Beach Lord up the coast because warfare suuuuuucks, and the most popular member of that clique is crowned emperor.

After a generation or two of relative stability, people have forgotten what the previous period of warfare was like, and develop the unconscious bias that it's Always Been Like This/the horror stories of your elders are just superstition. See: people who don't vaccinate their children because THEY never met anyone with Polio.

So they start pushing their luck.

Get funny with the ownership laws and realize they can make EVERYONE a renter and get away with being a shitass landlord.

Justify being a shitass landlord by coming up with things like "The Divine Right Of Kings"

Someone figures out that if you make everyone pay taxes in a grain crop, you can get away with EVEN MORE shitholery because you can force the peasants to use the bulk of their time and space to grow a crop that they have a limited ability to process and eat themselves, and grow their actual sustenance on the margins, so you can keep them in line with the constant but unspoken threat of starvation.

So if the Rukongai is running on a rice-based feudal system (which it is, because Kan is a rice-based currency and there are Noble houses and Lords and Daimyo in canon), souls MUST need to eat or the lords would have all been beheaded for being assholes who can't govern a while ago without the threat of starvation.

See? It IS about the food situation.

SIKE

I need to talk about law enforcement and postal services in the modern Soul Society now.

So the thing is: Until Ichigo and his friends show up and Cause A Ruckus, The Gotei-13 didn't actually have the authority to arrest anybody besides other Shinigami, people actively trying to Kill Shinigmai, and Hollows (theoretically) in AEIWAM.

See, after the initial period of "Various Lords make friends with each other for fun and profit", some Lords got really, REALLY good at getting other lords to sign up for their Multi Level marketing Schemes, and got stupid rich and also regular stupid doing it. Five of them specifically. These five super-popular guys were the Five noble lords, and their families that everyone pledged loyalty to became The Great Noble Houses: Shihouin, Kuchiki, Ise, and Shiba. AND DEFINITELY NOBODY ELSE.

The fact that all four of these houses were involved in a peculiar incident that imbued them with terrible spiritual power and some really kicass magical artifacts sure helped too.

Theoretically, any of these Four guys could become Emperor, but nobody was willing to bow to anyone else and it rapidly turned into the tensest five-way Mexican standoff, with a shitload of proxy wars between the minor noble houses that served the Great ones.

Great.

We're back to "constant, if somewhat less devastating warfare" AND we have to pay rice taxes.

...so some peasants invent anarchist communalism.

Not communism, they don't have control of the state, but they DO have Lords that are too busy doing poetry and snorting drugs to do their jobs... or catch them doing things that aren't in their lord's best interests.

So one village elder quietly whispers to another about "Hey, let's agree to trade grain and other supplies to each other at a discount and ah... not tell His Lordship about it. We'll have to send messages to each other in secret tho."

So Some Fucking Peasant becomes The Messages Guy, hoofing it all over the Rukongai delivering messages and facilitating an entirely lordless agrarian economy.

It's Kind of a Big Deal.

It's Kind of a Big Deal because peasants who can communicate are peasants who can ORGANIZE, and when word comes down from the scullery maids and underpaid clerks in the noble houses that the minor houses of X and Y are about to go to war at the behest of their masters THE MOST PECULIAR THING HAPPENS-

Holy shit. Terrible plague outbreak in the lands of Lord X. Hundreds dead. No way any village has anybody to spare for the war. What, you want to look? You want to catch this too? That's what happened to the last guy who came to look and look at him now! Crow food :(

Meanwhile, Lord Y and his two jackass sons have suddenly fallen ill. Must be that Plague from District X. Oh no! They died! Now the only Heir left is his daughter Lady X Who Was Doing All The Work Anyway. How unfortunate :(

;D

and that's not even getting into the network of secret granaries, flash livestock auctions, refugee migration routes and fun new alliances with people like Bandit Gang That Is An Entire Calvalry But Better.

It gets to be such a big deal, there are TONS of message guys, and they organize and demand to be paid properly for all this running and not getting caught by the nobs.

And the first postal service is born.

And shit, now that they're organized, why not formalize some of these grain stores and livestock trades and does the cavalry want to help delivering these messages? Or how about all the Village Elders who are experts in various things write down how all that stuff is done so it can be shared? Maybe they should all have a chance to meet up and share wisdom in person...

Shigekuni Yamamoto is all of eleven years old when he hears the village elder who runs the orphanage float the idea. Much, much later, he'll recall that THAT was when the Central 46 began.

Gradually, the lordless network of elder advice and tax-free farm economy grows, and begins to develop internal structures of it's own, and slowly grows to rival the Noble Houses in power, the decentralization of the network making it difficult for the noble houses to even recognize as a player, let alone attack.

Sure, lone messengers are often captured by the armies of the noble houses, but the messages they carry make little sense- the peasants use an entirely different alphabet- and the messengers will bite their tongues off and drown in their own blood before speaking.

But the shape of this secret fifth house remains a mystery for a long time until it becomes An Fucking Problem for food-related reasons. Specifically:

Ever Since the noble houses came back with weird magic powers and fucked up artifacts, there's been more and more and MORE people who have their own fucked up magical powers who live bizarrely long lives and also there are these really fucked up creatures with skull-like masks and holes in their chest that FUCKING EAT PEOPLE??

Fortunately, if you've got one of these magical freaks in your village, they're GREAT at dealing with the hole-monsters or "Hollows"

Unfortunately, these guys need a TON of food.

I read a statistical analysis from a medieval European scholar who worked out that in an agrarian economy, if you want to have ONE full-time warrior, you need to have about 1000 people to support that guy in terms of services needed and the labor lost from them being a fighter. ...And these magical warriors have the appetites of three or four people.

So anyone born with Spiritual power in Soul society is a bit up shit creek.

While everyone experiences the threat of starvation but for them, it's a matter of days, not weeks. While their home village would love to keep them, they straight-up may not be able to produce enough food, even if he's a magical farmer most of the year.

The nearest noble house definitely has enough food. But they also know from the Magical Dudes in their own families just how hungry these guys are, AND how powerful they are and how badly a rival house would want them. So the Noble houses often default straight to conscription, threats of violence against the warrior's home and family, indentured servitude and straight-up curses to control any spiritually powerful people who appear in their districts before a Rival house can make them a decent offer. Or kidnap them.

Basically, unless you're actually a member of the family, the noble houses SUCK to work for. Magical warriors are treated like weapons or animals or worse, are forced to marry into the family.

What are you going to do though? Starve? Not a lot of other options.

...until the secret postal service starts.

Postal Service has Food. And decent wages and working conditions baked right into the way its run.

Sure, it's not easy work, but the magical warriors are the fastest and strongest out there, AND the people most equipped to handle suddenly running into a Noble Guard or a hollow.

Once the word gets out, the magical warriors are practically hammering down the post office doors for a job.

Bit of a rowdy lot, these guys. The Council of Elders realizes. Also, very noticable to the noble houses. it's going to becaome real clear what's going on real fast, and we don't have an army. Yet...

Enter Postmaster-General Shigekuni Yamamoto, who has been running this for the last 500 years and already built a Dojo to train carriers how to defend themselves. He's even a pretty heavy hitter of a magical warrior himself! We'll have him run the army. It's basically the same thing, right?

Yamamoto is made aware of his promotion when the news is first released up north where the council is holding it's meeting this year, and an adolescent Chojiro Sasakibe decides that a good way to apply to the Dojo is to Personally Deliver the News Himself.

At 1 AM

In Sensei's Bedroom. "...Are you all like this, or are you a special pain in the ass?" the man with the extremely impressive mustache and frightening glare croaks at the lad. "My ability to inflict discomfort on various backsides has been noted before, Sir!" Sasakibe reports cheerfully. "...But I'm not sure who you mean by 'you all'?" "You and every other maniac with an ounce of Reiryoku who's apparently headed here at speed?" Yamamoto glowers at the letter he's been handed. Chojiro frowns, looking off to the side and rubbing his chin, giving the question entirely too much serious thought. "Well-" the boy grimaces. "I'd say that compared to the population at large, I'm a statistically significant pain in the ass, but compared to just people with spiritual power, I'm only a minor nuisance." Yamamoto groans, laying back down and staring at the ceiling for a bit. "How old are you, boy?" "Fourteen sir!" Chojiro chirps. "Princess-Who-Understands-The-Heavens, he's fucking fourteen." Yamamoto groans, rubbing his face. "Well. You're my pain in the ass now. Make yourself useful and get me some breakfast."

Sasakibe has been faithfully following that order for the last 1200 years :)

Soon, the Lordless Council of Elders has themselves a sizeable, very powerful and extremely loyal army. In an act of extreme magnanimity, they extend an offer to each of the Four Noble Houses to bring an end to the feuding and create a government and laws for noble and peasant alike to follow and prosper under.

Every Single Noble House: 🗡️⚔️🔪FUCK. YOU. 🔪⚔️🗡️

Well, this was going to happen sooner or later, Yamamoto supposes, and readies for The Final War To End All Wars.

He was so full of hope and promise back then.

The Four Noble houses and Postal Army prepare their initial salvos but before anyone could strike, AN ABSOLUTE SHITWACK OF ARROWS rain down from the sky.

Knock Knock It's The Quincies.

Everyone scrambles against the invaders, but refuses to ally and soon the last hope of Spirit World is pinned on The Postmaster-General, the couple dozen surviving warriors of his Dojo, and Twelve Fucking Maniacs he hired off Death Row.

To ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE'S VAST SURPRISE, Yamamoto is Victorious. Well. Him and some weird monk guy who turned Yhwach into a bug, gave Yamamoto A Mandate From heaven re: The Hollows and Balance of Souls, and Dipped.

The tattered remains of the noble houses finally Unite, but Shigekuni Genryusai Yamamoto has three names now and is like unto a God. and the twelve shady bastards backing him up are no slouches either. ...Perhaps it's time to Negotiate.

And negotiations happen! - The Noble houses bring their not-insubstantial forces to the table, along with the fact they're the only people who have a System FOR collecting taxes, something a government really does need. - The Council of Elders brings it's vast organizational network, expertise in many practical subjects and Lifetimes of Wisdom, only accurate maps of the immediate spirit world. - The newly-named Court Guard brings it's Much more substantial force, it's Mandate from on high, and Yamamoto's scary mustache and even scarier wife.

Things are actually going pretty well. Yamamoto and the army are getting the civil protections they wanted, the elders are getting the fairer means of governement they wanted and the Noble houses are getting to still be Rich As Cream.

...then someone sneaks in to negotiations. Well, they were actually brought in, as part of the entourage of one of the Elders, who takes her advice very seriously. After all, she's the oldest being the elder knows- even older than whatever it was that made the nobles so powerful in the first place.

"Listen, I've worked with these slippery shits before. Make damn sure they can't betray you." she growls. "I know, Yamamoto-sama has laid a very clever trap for them-" the elder nods. "No, I mean Yamamoto." She growls, yellow eye narrowing as she tracks him and his wife as they meander around the gardens below the negotiation hall. "Not him specifically, but it was a betrayal by someone like him- someone gifted the power of heaven- who cursed me to be as I am." "...Oh." says the elder, realizing that if Yamamoto could strike down that monster that lead the Quincies, he could very easily turn his blade on the council too.

...And that's when the first cracks in the bond between Yamamoto and The Council appeared.

So it was declared thus:

The actual governing would be done by the Council of Elders, now called the Central 46.

The Noble houses would still be allowed to retain their lands and collect SOME taxes in exchange for clearly defined and legally binding responsibilities.

The Gotei-13 would be responsible for matters supernatural- People with strange powers, the balance of souls between worlds, hollows, etc. funded and housed by the Central 46.

Additionally, the four of the captain's positions in the Gotei-13 would be reserved for the scions of The Great Noble Houses, unless it somehow came to pass that there were no Scions left.

The former armies of the Noble Houses would become the Onmitsukudo*, who would do the actual enforcing of the central 46's laws and collecting of taxes in the Rukongai, as well as independently collecting information for the central 46.

The Central 46 would also cultivate and independent force of spiritually powerful souls to use the art of Kido for Civil Projects and assisting the Omnitsukido or Gotei-13 when necessary.

It's Peace, but it's a Very Uneasy Peace.

As it stands, the Gotei-13 is *a* military branch, and a force to be reckoned with should they decide to throw their weight around, but they are entirely legally beholden to the Central 46 and not allowed to enforce the law. In fact, the Central 46 and Onmitsukido are allowed to arrest and detain any shinigami they see as a threat, without notice, explanation or Trial. The Central 46 could even decide to stop funding the Gotei-13 altogether and leave them to starve if they chose.

That's why Yamamoto is so strict about direct orders from the Central 46, and why Shinigami aren't allowed into the government quarter of the city.

Is this an excessive amount of world-building? maybe Is it actually making the writing process easier because I actually know what the broader chains of causality already are so the plot flows more naturally? YES. More importantly, am I having fun? VERY MUCH YES.

...What the fuck was this about again?

Oh, right. Food.

So as you can see from the previous fucking doctoral thesis, the food situation is

INTENSELY POLITICAL

AND

EXTREMELY FRAUGHT

...but actually pretty stable!

The vast majority of flat-enough-to-use land in the Rukongai is dedicated to farming. The land mass of the districts gets larger as you get farther from Seireitei, and districts 40-75 are almost ENTIRELY agrarian, with substantial amounts of farming occurring in 20-40 and above 75.

The Primary crop is still rice, but that's been receding since Soul Society finally switched to a Fiat Currency in the 1800s.

Also since about then, a greater variety of crops from the living world have appeared, including: Tomatoes, Potatoes, Crummock, Salsify, Cantaloupe, Avocado, Jicama, Sunroot, Marijuana, Strawberries, Corn, Broccolini, blue berries, boysenberries, Chicory, Cranberries, asparagus, black berries, raspberries, black raspberries, red blackberries, Okra, Coca, lingon berries, elder berries, Rhubarb, gooseberries, salmonberries, bearberries, and so many fucking squash.

New livestock has appeared as well- Soul Society has had an almost unlimited supply of beef from the Chihuahuan Desert cattle trade, but recently there have been new arrivals from the living world- wool sheep, Dairy cattle, Llamas, Mini pigs, Micro Pigs, Guinea Pigs, Fallow Deer, and those fucked up damascus goats.

There is also a bunch of crops native to Soul Society like Hummage, Black yams, ratweed, Pinnerey, Tomangoes, Craic, Duck radish, Sisei, and So Many Fucking Beans. There is also, like Nano Pigs, Pico Pigs, Mega Pigs and the terrifying Giga Pig (actually a type of Cavy). There are also Meat Horses, wool donkeys, and riding cattle, as well as Fertile mules.

Are there Laws About It?

Bruh.

The Soul Society Department of Agriculture was the FIRST formal regulatory agency formed by the Central 46. Even before the IRS.

Soul Society Agricultural and Land-Use Law is so Complex and Arcane that Kaname invents* an entire Rice Farm Subsidy Fraud Case for that takes Momo over a DECADE to investigate in various archives (Aizen is allergic to paper dust), travel to distant districts of the Rukongai (He also gets sick on trains and gates are for emergency use only), and talk to a hell of a lot of lawyers about (Aizen hates talking to anyone who really understands contract law) specifically to keep her physically away from Aizen as much as possible. It even works! *Sort of. The Rice Subsidy Fraud is Very Very real, but difficult to investigate, so he was leaving her subconscious clues in the crossword to point her to more evidence.

Who can be bribed with Very Specific Food?

As a side-effect of shinigami appetites, very nearly everyone to at least some degree. Most have hard limits about what they will accept any kind of compensation for, but everyone can be at least inclined to consider your proposal with the right snacks.

Ukitake loves cookies. He won't break laws or promises or forgo prior engagements, but he will make little exceptions that will make everyone happier.

It's more effective to bribe Rukia with plushies instead of food.

---

Mayuri wants whole-roasted fish, especially the heads and eyeballs. Technically, Mayuri has no limits, but you're going to need to present him with something exceptional.

Nemu can be persuaded to do some truly startling things for a nice dessert. She's done felonies for a fruit parfait before.

You can't Bribe Urahara with food, but you can bribe him with edibles ;)

Akon has a chart posted on his office door what various favors cost in money, labor, cigarettes, beer and/or pirated media.

---

Zaraki doesn't have a specific food he likes, but is constantly craving calories. He's also very willing to eat all your food and then tell you to go fuck yourself. The most effective strategy is to share food while asking for nothing a few times and then ask for whatever you needed his help with outside of a food context. For better or worse, he's extremely trainable.

You can't Bribe Yachiru with what she's already stolen out of your pockets.

Ikkaku is sort of offended when people fail to attempt to bribe him, and VERY offended if they try to lowball him. What, do you think he's cheap? Will show up anywhere with a buffet tho.

Attempting to Bribe Yumichika is a great way to end up owing Yumichika for the rest of your life. He never fails to make it to Sasakibe's High Teas/Gay Bitching sessions and often takes the snacks home.

---

People try to bribe Rangiku with alcohol all the time, which is really annoying. She is Perfectly Capable of acquiring her own booze thank you! Also, they keep offering her shit like Aged Whiskey which tastes how burnt hair smells. What she REALLY wants is Neon orange "Cheez" or "Nacho Blasted" snacks from the Living World. She craves that Riboflavin.

Hitsugaya lets everyone believe he's a slut for watermelon so they don't offer him the thing he'd actually have to fight to not accept: Jerky.

---

Tousen will not be 'bribed' into doing anything and will get extremely offended if you imply that he might consider it. He will, however, go to remarkably extreme lengths to get his hands on persimmons without paying for them. Not theft, that's very unethical, but he holds a bizarre principle about never paying for that fruit so that means exploiting agricultural, fair use, zoning and Tree laws to find or plant persimmon trees that are Perfectly Legal for him to pick from.

Kensei is similarly stony about the idea of being 'bribed', and worse still has an utterly flavorless protien-based diet. Mashiro knows he's got a pathological craving for Oreos and exploits it regularly.

Shuuhei will not be bribed but he will be VERY grateful if you go fill up his water bottle for him. Dweeb.

Mashiro will sell her own granny for a corn chip because she likes snacks, loves shenanigans, and knows her granny can kick a man in half and could use the excitement.

---

Everyone *knows* Shunsui is a drinker, but the trick is that he's savoring some really, REALLY good stuff very slowly. You can't afford the shelf he's drinking from. He thought he was immune to food-based Bribery until Nanao was out of town one week and the rank-and-file Shinigami she left to mind him introduced him to the grand tradition of the post-spree Dirty Great Fry-Up. It was like waking up in heaven to his hungover ass, and now he's the one attempting to bribe his minder into making it again every time he wants to go on a bender because he refuses to wake up from one any other way again.

Nanao did not believe the minder when she told Nanao of the great power of The Dirty Great Fry-Up, but now that Shunsui limits his sprees to the availability of breakfast the following morning, Nanao is trying to figure out what kind of raise it's going to take to keep the fry cook on staff.

---

Sajin Komamura is a deeply honorable man who doesn't even like eating lunch out with a visitor lest it be misconstrued and because he's still self-concious about eating in front of others. Last spring though, someone put up flyers for Game Share tags, and Komamura met with them in private to negotiate terms and ended up putting almost half a month's salary towards at least two does, one wild sow, as many marmots as they can bag (they can keep the pelts), and the offal/feet of the other animals they bag on other tickets. Half of the following month's salary went towards an adequate chest freezer. It's worth it though. His diet had been suffering from lack of variety and some of the vitamins and other nutrients from parts humans don't eat and by December his coat is LUXURIOUS.

Tetsuzaemon won't do anything illegal but will do some remarkably stupid shit for a beer.

---

You don't even SAY the word 'bribe' in the sixth division. Byakuya will remember you forever if you bring him an extremely specific brand of seaweed snack though.

Renji will eat anything handed to him, which is a problem because he almost broke a tooth on a stapler he thought was going to be a sandwich. He's unbribable because his brain won't process anything you say to him while he's eating.

---

People kept bringing Aizen Chocolate when he was captain and he HATED it. It's not that he dislikes the food: it's that his Dead Twin Brother was an absolutely peerless confectioner and made chocolate that could make the angels weep. Not only are Aizen's standards ridiculously high, the food is a genuine trauma trigger for him.

Shinji loves him some Black Thunder Chocolate bars but is so goddamn bad at conversations that he will not grok what the FUCK someone is talking about when they try to bribe him. He'll think they're a bad conversationalist with good taste in candy.

Some god thought they were being real funny when they made Momo be born with an aversion to peaches and a deep fondness for Sour and bitter Flavors. Shinji did manage to remember her joking about that and bought her a jar of pickled lemons for her birthday as a joke, and was genuinely surprised when she was moved to tears.

You have to Bribe Hiyori to even get her to listen to your proposal for the thing you're actually trying to bribe her for. For Better or Worse, she trades in novel potato chip flavors.

---

Attempting to bribe Unohana with food is an absolute crapshoot, because what she'll accept is a complex internal metric of how serious the favor is, how much she likes you, and how much she likes the proferred snack. You might be able to get a perscription for something that's normally a band substance for some Senbei, you might lose your nose for even bringning Okra into her hosptial. Best not play that particular roulette.

Isane is impossible to bribe because she just agrees to stuff before you can bring out the payment. Sure, you got your surgery moved or your hands in some pretty heavy drugs, but you'll walk away with the feeling that, since you didn't actually pay her for this, you actually OWE her now, and you'd be right. You'd better believe she'll call in that favor whenever she needs it, because you're *friends*, aren't you? It also never occurs to anyone to offer her her favorite food: Apples.

Hanataro has accidentally taken bribes multiple times because he did not realize people were attempting to pay him. He thinks it's just basic manners to show up at someone else's home or office with snacks and also people are wildly misinformed about what he's legally allowed to do. What? they wanted me to BREAK A LAW? FOR KIT-KATS?? The boy loves him some kit-kats but not to the point of committing a FELONY, what the fuck???

---

Izuru once walked in on Gin swallowing a rat whole, turned around and tried desperately to pretend he hadn't actually seen that for a year, until he REALLY fucked up his scheduling conflicts and needed an extra week of paid time off to go to a friend's wedding and in a fit of panic, attatched a deceased rat suitable for serpentine consumption he purchased from a pet store. Gin was more than happy to give him the time off and hey, a little hazard pay so you can get something nice for the happy couple Unfortunately, this also condemned Izuru to having Gin lean out of his office at least every other month and holler "Hey Izuru? What's our Rat Guy's phone number?" loud enough to be heard by the entire Division.

Rose can be bribed with anything from a patisserie.

---

People keep givng Soi Fon honey which is honestly starting to feel like a microaggression at this point. What she REALLLY wants is a bucket of fried chicken.

You can't Bribe Omaeda with food, he's the one feeding YOU. Sit down and stop yapping, you're skin and bones!

---

Yamamoto does not accept bribes, at all, ever. He does accept all forms of SUPER MEGA SPICY FLAMING DEATH-REINCARNATION-AND-SECOND-FLAMING-DEATH TURBOFIRE HOT hot sauce.

Sasakibe has been assisitant headmaster of Shin'o academy since it was founded before the fall of Rome. no matter how delicious your offer or how clever your scheme, an adolescent dork already made a better version of it like 700 years ago. Pathetic. What Sasakibe REALLY wants is to be able serve high tea to an adoring crowd. Hope you like cucumber sandwiches.

Okay this is like 5.2K and it's 3AM I'm gonna end this and go to bed.

[yummymitzy]

Would you have the heart?

Summary: Reader is a villain and just finished up the last of her mission. As she was cleaning up her mess, she hears something nearby. But she doesn’t expect it to be a gorgeous redhead to be the origin of the sound.

Warnings- Slight violence with knife (Not much!!), G!P Reader, i think thats it? 18+ MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 1915

————♡————

Here you were, disposing of another body in a very trashy dumpster down to very end of the alleyway. Honestly if it were under different circumstances, you would have killed this man in the river, but he just wouldn’t shut up.

Finally closing the lid of the dumpster, you shrug off your leather jacket, it was practically drenched in blood. But you pause, hearing a noise in the distance ahead of you, like a squeaking of a shoe? It was clear that the individual was trying to stay quiet.

Grabbing your knife you hold it up, ready to pounce but still lowered down incase it wasn’t a threat. Keeping your back to one of the walls of the alleyway, you peer around the corner, seeing a bright red flash. 

In a flash, you grab their collar and take them into the dark alley. Shoving them against the wall where only little moonlight shone. Soon making you realize that the person you shoved had been a woman, a gorgeous one with straight bright red hair and beaming green eyes. 

What the fuck? Why are you acting like that? Weird. You tighten your grip on her shoulders and neck, waiting for her to speak. 

“I saw what you did to that man.”

“Don’t know what you want me to do about it, make you unsee it? He deserved it.”

“He could have had a family.”

“He was planning to kill them anyways, might as well save them from the betrayal.”

You loosen your grip upon her, now realizing that she cant do much as save him if the man is already dead. But your hands still hover along her shoulders and neck.

She seems to be analyzing you, you noticed her eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper as she hears your quick answers. You couldn’t help it, it was all true, the man has been going for your head for years, but turned his attention to his family once you gone off the radar.

“Don’t think I’ll let you go, Red. I just so happen to know that you’re going to snitch to whoever you work for, make a new enemy of me.”

“How’d you know that.” Her gaze seems to falter just for a split second, enough for you to catch.  Before her facade is brung back up, higher than before.

“You know there is always two different types of heros.” You trail the hand on her neck to trace her jaw as you spoke. “Ones that always make it on the cover of the magazine, praised for all their glory as they defeat the “biggest” of all enemies.”

Unbeknownst to her, you bring your other hand away from her shoulder to bring the tip of the knife to point at her neck. “Or the hero’s that stay under the radar, staying out of the public eye. Not letting anybody know who they actually are… And you just so happen to be the one on the magazines, Romanoff.”

You honestly wonder why she hasn’t attacked you yet for figuring her out. You wonder whats her next move as your eyes scan her face, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Im here to take you in. We could give you better chances, opportunities, if you’d just come with me, Y/n.” Natasha sighed, seeming desperate? Which made you raise an eyebrow.

“Take ME in? You and your little boy band must have a shit ton of death wishes huh?” You laugh, your wings spreading out slightly behind you. Making Natasha wonder how she never noticed them with how large they were.

“Maybe, but it really all just depends if it’s worth the risk.” 

“The risk you’re talking about is way bigger than your boyband could handle, I’m a threat, anybody could admit that. I can take this town out in a matter of seconds.” You hissed, moving your head closer to hers, your breath fanning over her overly pierced ear.

Natasha shudders at your gesture, unknowingly leaning into it. “But you wouldn’t have the heart to do it? You know you’re capable, but are you able to put your mind to it?” She’s confident, you could give her that, maybe way too confident..

————♡————

You don’t know exactly how or when this happened, or got in this position but you weren’t going to complain. Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow of the Avengers, has you against the wall now. 

The thing is, she wasn’t going to kill you, instead you find her on her knees, rubbing your throbbing member through your jeans. Shes teasing you. You didn’t have to think twice about that as she painfully unzips your jeans in a very slow matter.

“Fuck” You mutter, this was like torture. By the time Natasha got your cock free from its restraints, your cock practically sprung out throbbing, the tip a deep red with precum leaking from its slit. Natasha’s eyes widened a fraction, now realizing that your dick was bigger than she thought.

Brushing that thought aside, Natasha leaned forward and kitten licked your tip, humming at the taste of your tangy yet sweet precum. Before using the rest to help lube up your shaft as she pumps your dick, pulling a groan from you as you tilt your head back and resting it on the wall behind you.

Soon deciding that was enough, Natasha leaned forward again, wrapping her plump lips on your throbbing cock. She swirled her tongue along your tip, paying extra attention to your slit, as she started to deep throat you, running her tongue along the veins on the underside of your cock. 

You moan out into the air, your wings fluttering behind you on the wall as you take your hand and run it gently through her hair, tugging lightly which pulls a moan from Natasha’s throat.

Natasha soon enough has your whole shaft down her throat, but not without gagging. Her eyes well up a light shade of red as tears start to form, her head bopping up and down on your cock as your hand rests upon her head guiding her. 

“Goddamn Natasha, you’re way too good at this” You moaned once again, lifting your head as you shift your gaze back onto her. She keeps strong eye contact with you as she bops her head faster, her other hand reaching up to fondle with your balls as she brings you to your climax. 

You cried out, cum spurting out from your cock into the depths of her throat. Natasha stayed there for a moment, once she was assured that you were done, she pulled away from your cock, a string of saliva mixed with cum following.

She honestly looked beautiful, her lipstick slightly smudged, a light pink tint to her cheeks, her hair slightly messed up, her eyes dark with what seemed like lust. 

You instantly pull her up into a deep kiss, your lips moving together passionately as you cup her jaw with one hand and the other is reaching down to her hips. 

Pulling away from the kiss, you look at Natasha as if asking for consent while your hand rests on the waistband of her pants. She nods her head in response to which you start unbuttoning her pants, trying to slow your desperate moves.

Assisting you, Natasha kicked away the offending material and puts her hands on either side of your jaw, pulling you into a more desperate yet still passionate kiss. You pull her flush into your body by her hips, your grip tight.

You spin her around, making Natasha gasp into the kiss as her back makes contact with the wall. You pull away as your trail kissed down the side of her neck, leaving love bites on her collarbone above the collar of her shirt. 

Natasha moans as she loops one arm around your neck, gripping on one of your wings like they were a handle bar. As her other hand travels down where your bodies meet and grabs a hold of your cock, slowly stroking it.

Getting the message, you dip your hands under the material of her lace panties, feeling her drenched folds as you massage her clit. Soon enough, you tap her thigh with your left arm, a gesture for her to jump as you carry her.

You continue rubbing her clit as she rests her back against the rough brick wall. You spread your wings partially, curving them around your bodies. You could still see out but other individuals wont be able to distinguish your antics. 

“Hurry up… Fuck!” Natasha grunts it soon turning into a moan as you press down on her clit. Your lips meeting her neck again, kissing and sucking on it as you create more and more hickeys until there was no space. Pulling away, you rest your forehead on hers, panting heavily as your right hand reaches down to your cock to line yourself up.

“Hurry up? Beg” You laugh as you slammed your length into Natasha, causing a loud moan to rip out of her. “C’mon baby, beg.” As you slow your thrusts to a torturously slow pace.

“Fuck! Fuck… Forget it.” She cries out as she somehow creates an even tighter grip on your wings as she tries moving her hips against you, humping you until your grip on her hip tightens which effectively stops her.

“I know you have it in you baby, come on baby, beg for me.” You mumble against the juncture of her neck in a soft tone.

“Goddamnit…Please Y/n! I need you, please..” She practically whimpers, her nails digging into your wings proving how desperate she is. Her strong facade from earlier is long gone compared to her now.

Her words riled you up even more, making you fasten your pace, your hips meet hers more frequently. All you could hear was Natasha’s whimpers and moans and the sound of skin slapping , everything else just tuned out.

The sound of Natasha’s moans in your ear and her scratching up your wings and back turned you on even more. Resulting in you turning your hips and pounding into her wet pussy from a different angle. Her moans and cries got louder by the second, and you could tell she was getting close too.

Sucking one nipple in your mouth, you nibble and suck on it as you bring one of your hands down between your colliding bodies. You rub her clit frantically as you continue rutting her into the wall, your thrusts getting more sloppy. 

“Fuckk.. Babyyy. Im gonna cum” You moaned in Natasha’s ear, your hot breath fanning over her ear and neck.

“ Y/n!! Please! Please” Natasha begs as you pound into her, her hands roaming and scratching anywhere she could reach, arms, back, wings, waist.

“Fuck!! Cum baby, cum!” You grunted as Natasha came first, her walls pulling you more in making it hard for you to move. Triggering your orgasm as you felt her walls tighten around your shaft, your mixed juices gushing together as some fell out of her cunt. Your wings fluttering in pleasure behind you as you keep your cock in Natasha to keep juices from spilling as you both pant to catch your breaths.

You rest your head in the crook of her neck as you still try to catch your breath, leaving tiny kisses on her collarbone and shoulder.

“So are you going with me back to the compound, round two can be there.” Natasha breathed, still out of breath.

“I’ll take you up on your offer Nat.”

[waywardxrhea]

Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

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

word count: 3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct,” he told you with a nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously. 

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

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

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

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

[pupyr0arz]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ladybyakuya]

| BRAZIL + TASUKU TSUBAKINO.

+cw. — advisor!Tasuku Tsubakino x fem!singer!reader, musical au,band au, bofurin as band, mention of show pub ougi bar so manga spoilers, first meeting, usage of some canonical elements, rockstar!umemiya hajime, angst,hurt, misunderstanding ( ? ), confession, smut, mature content ahead. title based on song brazil by Declan McKenna

+wc. — 2k

+syn.— Tsubaki likes you while you know that he loves umemiya hajime and that is where jealousy comes into play but when it does it always turns the world upside down.

+notes. — this is a collab piece via wind breaker server ( the bofurin brothel ) hosted by our beloved mel ( @gimme-hiragi ). i used tsubaki instead of tsubakino because that's how he likes to be addressed. he is one of my favs >:)). dividers by cafekitsune | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — @stunie @prettyiwa

The stage curtains are drawn out granting a manageable access for the sunlight to pour into the empty stage. The pebble bar lights are not alive. There is no need for those but only during nights. Tsubaki is staring at the stage with a daze in his eyes as you connect the chords, set the microphone, and grab the headphones. For someone who can ignite the dormant rhythm in people’s hearts with the melody of your voice, you are an eerily silent soul. You clean the headphones with your handkerchief before putting it on. The only sound that could be heard was breathing: one was even like a pond while the other was uneven like a mountain range. Despite how quiet you are, Tsubaki can still pick up the rhythm of your body and soul: the footsteps, the breathing, Tsubaki watches as you take the stance of singing in front of the microphone.  He always does. He comes every Friday morning to watch you practice and as for you, you practice singing without any instruments or gadgets every morning, when the entire bar is in deep slumber. Clearing your throat, you start to sing but at first, just with wordless tunes, scaling your voice.

The lyrics:

{ heard he lives down a river somewhere

With six cars and a grizzly bear

He's got eyes, but he can't see

Well, he talks like an angel, but he looks like me

Oh, Lord

Oh, Lord }

Tsubaki rests his chin in between the slit of his index finger and thumb, elbow fixed on the table beside the glass of a strawberry milkshake. His eyes straw away due to the jingle of the bell coming from afar that is located at the apex of the back door. Someone is here. Tsubaki can not see them until they step into the main arena. Maybe they are from the staff section he consoles himself. He looks at you to check if you are expecting someone’s arrival at this time of the day but he finds you immersed in your voice. With those headphones on he doubts you could barely hear anything.

The thing is your Friday mornings solely belong to Tsubaki so anyone else is just noise to him but you do not know that. You know that every Friday morning he turns up sharp at 9 o clock without his twin bodyguards. He murmurs under his breath, “The music you play in bars is more real than what I play in stadiums.” and sips the strawberry milkshake through the pink straw.

You cover the microphone with your palm; moving your head away from it a little you retort tartly. “Oh? That’s new. Are you mocking bofurin?”

Tsubaki's red lips have a tinge of the pinkish milkshake he just sipped. He could not even gulp it down. Azure eyes go static, a palm over his mouth. Awkward. Waiting. 

“That’s what I thought. You could never,” you chime with a smile plastered on your face that you often maneuver during interaction of any sort with customers. He finally gulps down the strawberry milkshake. It feels stale and does not help with either the heat or the bubbling tension amongst his chest ribs. The moment you were about to sing again, your eyes switched to the entrance of the bar lounge.

Tsubaki’s sky lake eyes follow as he murmurs, “Umemiya-kun. . .?” it sparkles as if the sun shone upon him after a cloudy day.

Your mouth fell open ajar. How courageous of Umemiya to roam as free as a bird carrying all the fame and fortune on his back. “I hope you’re not looking for a place to hide, Haji.” you quipped gaining the attention of pair of eyes in the room.

Umemiya swigs his palm in front of his face exclaiming with zest, “No. No. Not at all.” He walks towards the stage and stands in front of you. Now, you can see both: Tsubaki and Umemiya. “Can’t I come visit an old friend?”

That would be unusual for a rockstar of his status. He has just started new heights. Recklessness sure follows wherever there is popularity and financial prosperity. Even with all that, it is unusual for him to pay an unscheduled visit for him. Could it be he is out in the wild, hinting at his muse? 

“you’re stuck.” Umemiya’s gigantic smile disappears instantly. Oh! That must be it. He is stuck with his music. “Bingo.” 

“Hmmm. That's what I thought. I mean you can’t afford to pay a visit like this unless you need me.”You pull his leg a little as Tasuku fidgets with the hem of his dress revealing a fair amount of this thigh. How tactless! Or could be intentional? There is a bleak prospect of that so for the better or worse you do not follow the trail of that thought. It's your jealousy wrapped with anger trying to stretch your heartstrings and release it, snapping the string and rewarding you with a bleeding heart.

You excuse yourself for a minute because it truly feels like someone is already tugging at your heartstrings and it's none other than Tsubaki. The way he acts around Umemiya bothers you. The way he acts around you clams your heart but you can not run after that tranquility. Never. Not in this life.

By the time, you come back Tsubaki has already left and Umemiya is sitting, waiting for you by the window side. He spends nearly half an hour trying to schedule a time with you and you can not lie to him. You can not lie to him even if you want to because you have to appease Tsubaki. So, if you agree with him, help him with whatever problem he is facing. 

It was decided that after a gig, the next weekend his staff would come and pick you up from your house and drop you at his house. And, when the work is done his staff will drop you back to your house.

The next morning strikes with a devastation deadlier than death. 

There is a photo of you and Umemiya on the front page. It is blurred just a little enough to not recognize your face but people around you can tell easily that it’s you. Tsubaki certainly can. That’s the only thing that matters, not the contents of the photo or how ambiguous it is. You and Umemiya are standing close to each other, closer than normal people. He is touching your earring and the angle of the photo makes it seem that he is touching your cheek. Damn! These paparazzi. You try not to call any of the Bofurin members because by now the must be busy handling the situation, especially Tsubaki being Umemiya’s sole advisor. It is almost mid-day. You throw the paper in the dustbin and pour liquor before burning it. Sure, you are jealous of Umemiya but you do not pray for his down fall. It makes you feel horrible to even think such a case. If this the price of love you have to pay, you would rather fall out of love. As if you can afford to do that. You can perhaps but not now. You have your reputation to protect.

A few nights later, after your first show when you walk back to your green room you find Tsubaki waiting in your green room without the lights on in the dark Your green room is nothing out of the ordinary except for him. He is like a cilantro in dessert. He does not belong here, in the world of booze and cheap bar lights. 

“What’re you doing here?” you try to sound angry, even annoyed but it is the shock that he hears the most, maybe a fear hidden underneath your voice. So, he does not leave the chair but rather folds his legs, one over the other. The taut and toned muscles of his legs are on vivid display making it even harder for you to focus. 

 “It was easy. I sneaked in.” He responds with so much detest in his heart that it makes you think he is mad about the photo. But he has no right to be, you remind yourself. After all, he is the one to choose to turn a blind eye to your feelings.

“Well, I have another performance so you have to wait.” you tartly spoke walking towards the mirror for some touch-up. Tsubaki watches you as you put lipstick on your lips.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Let me answer you with a question.” You turn your face to him, your hand still being kept on the wooden skin of the dressing table. “Why do you think I didn’t join Bodurin?”

“So, it's true. The rumors are true.” This guy . . . 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The opened lipstick clatters among the cosmetics separating the maroon part from the lipstick case as you throw it away. Tsubaki does not say a word; just spares a glance at the smudged part of your lips, must have happened when you swatted it away.

“All this time, I thought you . . .you liked him. You liked him.”  Tsubaki exclaims in a low voice leaving his seat and coming close to you. “So, I restrained myself. I kept reminding myself—” his fingers linger on your chin. “ That you are not mine to own.” Right! How could you not think of this? Tsubaki the smudged part of the lipstick and you let him. “Now, i don’t have to do that.” he whispers against your lips. You gulp. He still has not let go of your chin. You don’t think he is going to  . . . kiss you, right? He chins your face up a little expanding a little more access towards your collar bones. Tsubaki jocks down, kisses on your exposed collarbone. Just a peck. “That will do for now. Will quiet down the rumors too.” Tsubaki smiles. You look at the mirror to check your reflection. There it is the lipstick mark, as bright as a diamond. You do not dare to wipe it off. You don’t want to. 

Tsubaki stands behind you as you watch yourself in all glory. He moves aside the fall of your hair onto your left shoulder. You tilt your head, eyes glistening as you look at him through the mirror. There is hope. Want. Lust. Desire. . . Tsubaki wet his lips seeing you inviting him but he can not do that, not here. You have a show to host, and people to entertain. So, he unzips your dress exposing your skin. You must either be wearing a backless bra or nipple pads. If not none, you are getting an earful from him later but for now, he proceeds to place a trail of kisses, slow and full all over your back. It is frustrating how you can not see his face or the lipstick marks he left on your back.

Tsubaki stands up after kissing you till the dress would allow him. He zips it up as he stands. “I’ll wait for your show to be over. Then, after the show we are going home.” He whispers into your ear but he is too close so you shrink feeling ticklish all over your body. A few days ago he felt light years away, so out of your reach and now he is standing behind you, as close as he can get for now. 

“I’ll hurry after the show if .  .  .” you can finally find your voice now. Wait, can you sing properly? Of course, you can; you reassure yourself. 

“Oh don’t worry.” Tsubaki interrupts. “ I’ll make sure we will make up for all the time we have lost love.” He holds your hand assuring you that it's okay; he is not running anymore; he is not. If anything, he feels repentance for suffering all these years regretting his feelings for you but now that bitter feeling has sublimed he is so full of love that it feels like his heart will burst at the seams. It's not suffocating anymore. It’s liberating. Love is liberating. OH DEAR! What blind fool he has been to not to see the love you have for him in those galactic eyes.

@underratedcharactercorner @interstellar-inn

[georgiapeach30513]

You Won't Get Time, Part 2

Summary: your brain never shuts off.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader, Johnny Storm X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit sexual content, explicit language, mild form of self harm (rubber band snapping), slapping, biting, unprotected sex, PIV sex, cream pie, nightmares, depictions of drowning, underage drinking, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Biting your lip, you pace around your bedroom. It seems of late that’s all you do, and you’re always doing it alone, while somewhere the people you hold closest to your heart are elsewhere. How is it that when you need someone no one is around? Or is it because you’re ashamed of what happened? You never actually ask for Steve, you just know eventually he’ll come asking for you.

But what actually happened tonight? Everything was fine. Perfect even. People got to see you with Steve. In a way it is like marking your territory, and he was marking his. And it was amazing. Until he told you that you couldn’t stay. You didn’t understand why he never allowed you to linger. It’s like there was a bit of shame.

But then Bucky. You take a quick look in the mirror, and almost hate the person you see. Hate the way your eyes look a bit more sunken in and worn. You pull off every bit of clothing you have, and toss it into the hamper before walking into the Jack and Jill bathroom. You had to get Bucky off you. If you were a braver person, you would have jumped into the river. But who would have saved you then? Or is that what you want? To wash everything away and give up on whatever was going on? You’re just tired.

Turning on the water as hot as you can stand, you step in. Scrubbing and scouring at every remnant Bucky left behind. You wish you could just be open and honest with Steve, you just want him. But you get a feeling that Steve wants you to — take care of Bucky. It wasn’t all the time, and that’s why you allow it, but Bucky isn’t Steve. And Bucky went further than Steve would have allowed. You couldn’t cause another fight between them because of you.

And then afterwards. You walked to the river, trying to find some clarity, or contemplate washing away the evening, or something. You aren’t even sure what you wanted to do. Just run away and forget all the noise that is constantly surrounding you, and within your own mind. There’s only two times that it ever stopped. Well, there are two people that make the buzzing noise in your brain stop. And here you thought it was only Steve.

But why did Johnny have to invade not only your moment, but your mind. He is asking questions that you just couldn’t answer because — because you just couldn’t, and you didn’t want to. He wanted you to think about things, not realizing that was exactly the opposite of what you try to do with Steve. Because with Steve things just cease to stop moving. And it’s beautiful that you don’t have to think you can just be. Didn’t other people get that luxury?

Steve is your sanctuary. More than a friend or brother, he is your soulmate. Your other half. He is your everything. And how dare Johnny try to make you question the way things are with Steve. Nobody ever understood, and you just get tired of explaining it. You shouldn’t have to. Yours and Steve’s relationship was for you and him. People couldn’t understand the extreme complexities that make up your single minds.

Nobody could understand how precious things are with Steve. Mostly because he didn’t show the real him to people. But in the privacy of just you and him, you are blessed with seeing the man outside of the tormented soul he presents to the world. That’s love. Steve trusts you to be his vulnerable self. The one he keeps locked away from everyone because from experience, you and Steve were always the one left behind.

Bucky and Becca couldn’t understand because they still had their parents, and each other. Had yours and Steve’s parents not died, you might not have ever had this bond with him, and you’re grateful they’re dead. It beats the alternative of mourning their death forever. Constantly longing for people who are never coming back. You didn’t need them. The universe brought you what you needed. Steve.

You pop your neck as you walk back to your bedroom. Feeling cleansed from Bucky and him. Johnny had a death wish if he thought that being in your presence was a smart idea. And if Steve knew that he was questioning your relationship, it would not end well for Johnny. And yet there’s a part of you that not only wants to keep that hidden from Steve but also, maybe, you wouldn’t mind seeing him again. You shudder at the thought.

You reach over to your bedside table, and put a rubber band around your wrist, and give it a few pops. Taking a deep, slow inhale each time you let the rubber slap your skin. Exhaling before you pull it back. You take a quick check at your window before allowing your eyes to flutter close. Another night alone.

The Barnes’ thought you guys were grown enough now to do whatever it is they wanted on the weekend. It’s nice most of the time. Except now you just feel cold. Dreadfully cold. Hugging your knees to your chest, you clench your eyes close. It’s not the first time this has happened, and eventually sleep comes. Along with visions of the past. Ones you try to bury.

You pop the rubber band a few times. Feeling like your skin is crawling. Cold. Dark. Alone. Leaving you to wait for someone to save you. Except in your nightmares they never do.

——

Steve pushes your bedroom window open. He came in too late to use the front door, and the Barnes’ are already awake with the TV on in the living room. So he has to sneak to find you. He had too much weed last night. You hate seeing him high, so he waited. With some company before he came to you. He’s crawled through your window so many times that he could do it any form of inebriation.

Taking his shoes off, along with all his clothes, he lifts the covers and slides in behind you. Snaking an arm over you. His hand slides up your arm until he feels your wrist. Not only is one of those ugly bands on you, but your skin is warm and swollen, “Goddamit, Rio,” his voice is gruff behind your neck, but you don’t respond.

Your head twitches violently, and he hates himself. Heat doesn’t course through your blood, it’s like you're as cold as the day he pulled you from the river. “Rio?” His voice is met with a garbled cry. “Rio?” Still it’s nonsensical words that sound heavy. He hates having to shake you awake from these dreams, but they increase in severity if he doesn’t.

“Rio, baby, come back to me,” he leans over your body, hearing a strangled breath. It’s like you can’t escape the hellish nightmare, and you are causing yourself to drown. Your breathing is shallow, sounding like you're choking on your own saliva. “Rio? Rio! Please, I can’t lose you. Rio!”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head before he panics, shaking your body, until you’re gasping for air. Coughing at the invisible water in your lungs before looking up at him with so much confusion, until he pulls your body into his lap. Cradling you like a small baby, “I’m not going to lose you. I can’t. Rio, you’re my salvation. Please, don’t do this to me. I told you if you’re in that space to call me.”

“You’re late,” two words that cut him so deeply. Certain things don’t have to be spoken to understand what you mean. He’s late, meaning he was out high. “Does she have a name?”

“Don’t go there,” you are the one that was rudely woken up. You were sleeping. Maybe not peacefully, but you were sleeping. And he crawled through your window, and held you. And now he has the gall to tell you not to go there. You could have used him earlier in the night. Your nightmares don’t come if he’s with you.

“Have you at least washed her off you.”

“Did you wash Bucky off you?” Leaning to the side, you bite his arm. It wasn’t meant to hurt. It’s just aggression at his words.

“You allowed that to happen.”

“And you seemed like you really hated it, too,” he gets another bite, and he growls in response. “I hate it when you do that.”

“And I hate it when you act like I’m not enough for you. And don’t give me a dumb excuse that you have to let people know I don’t mean that much to you. That’s sick, and I’m done with your games,” still being cradled in his lap, he pinches your mouth. Thumb and forefinger on both sides, causing your mouth to hang open.

Like fire, even with warmth, there’s a danger to it. The flames have their way of causing pain. Licking and striking each other. You and Steve are passionate and painful. Leaning forward he licks a stripe up your neck, ending with his tongue tickling the inside of your mouth. “Suck it.”

“No,” you respond around the muscle. You aren’t sure where his tongue has been tonight. You’d be damned if you taste another woman. “Get off.”

Keeping his hand on your mouth he leans back, staring at you intently and confused. You never met him with resistance. It is a weird, and yet liberating thing. You hate to think that the brief conversation with Johnny had any effect on you, but you didn’t respond to Steve with eager enthusiasm, but with defiance.

“What?”

“I don’t want something that’s been inside another cunt,” he looks hurt. Not angry, and you want to plead for forgiveness, but also see where this goes.

“I haven’t touched another woman tonight.”

“Oh? And last weekend?”

“That was different,” you blow a puff of air up at him, wishing he would remove his hand. “You went on vacation with your little friend, and I was lonely.”

“I get lonely, too,” how dare he blame you. You’re tired and wish to sleep, and here he is blaming you for something he did. You deserve vacations, but deep down you know Steve doesn’t like the idea of you wanting to leave here.

“Maybe I should find me another cock,” he slaps the side of your leg with his free hand, but you just smile. “Does that bother you? Thinking about another man hovering over me. Leaving bruises on my skin from how tightly he holds onto me. Have someone that isn’t you fucking into me, and not only does it feel good, but I love it? Is that why you allow Bucky to fuck me? Because I don’t love him like I love you? And I don’t want him fucking me?”

“You’ve never said that,” you shouldn’t have to. How many times have you said all you want was Steve. It’s subtle, but it’s said.

“You’ve never asked. You just know I’ll do what you ask. And I get lonely, too,” you repeat the sentiment again, hoping that Steve catches it and understands.

“You take another cock, and I’ll never forgive you,” you stare up at him with cold dark eyes. Hating him for even thinking that. “You belong to me.”

“Then quit allowing our brother to fuck me!”

“Then tell him, no. If you hate it so much, just tell him, no. You never have, so I assumed that you must like it enough,” you roll your eyes, and get another slap to your leg. “Quit being a little bitch. What is wrong with you this morning?”

“I get lonely, too!” He clearly hasn’t heard you. He doesn’t get that you hate being alone. It’s a visceral reaction, and when it happens you go back to all the bad thoughts.

“Yeah, and fucking doing — why is the rubber band on your wrist again, Ri? You said you would tell me if you felt like doing that again. Why do you need to hurt yourself?”

“Why? Because I came home after being used while everyone in your fucking friend group watched, but I’m not good enough to stay there with you, no. You just want everyone to know I’m your little cunt bitch that lets you fuck me whenever you need it. And after being used, I didn’t have anyone to hold me when I needed it. I came here alone, and was left to my own thoughts, and the bands bring me back to reality. When I flick my skin, I’m here in the present. When I don’t I’m in my mind in the fucking river fighting for my life, and you weren’t there to save me,” Steve’s grip on your cheeks softens before he lets his arm fall altogether.

Letting himself be defeated as he lays back on your bed. “You’re not even going to apologize, are you? Bucky fucked me in front of your friends, and I had to come home alone. I get tired of being used by you two.”

“You think I use you?” You’re not sure what he would call it.

“I think that’s all you allow yourself to do. Do you love me?”

“Yeah. You know I love you. You know you’re the only one that quiets my thoughts, too.”

“If you don’t want me to feel like I’m being used, be there for me when I need you. It works both ways, but you’re the only one taking, and I’m so tired of giving, and everyone gets to see me giving,” if it was Steve that everyone saw you with instead of Bucky, maybe you wouldn’t feel so raw. But it was like a sick game to see you pass around between the two of them.

He twists his head while looking at you, and you’re tired of talking. At a party Steve does use you. He stakes his claim in front of everyone and lets them know that you’re untouchable. You belong to him, and no one can ever have you. “You didn’t call me.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, turning your body to straddle Steve. You pull off his old shirt, and watch his eyes roam over your body as you start to grind on his naked self. “Don’t act so surprised, Steve. What’s the rule? No panties in the bed, that way if you need me, you can just have me. You got in my bed naked. But now I’m the one that needs you,” still grinding on top of him, you lean forward, kissing up his neck.

“Why so late?” It is already morning. You can see the warm sun rays start to peek through the window. “Don’t lie to me.”

“We were discussing you coming out next weekend,” you sit up, cocking an eyebrow. “There’s reasons I don’t want you there.”

“Why?”

“Initiation.”

“Such as?” He moans as his cock starts to get harder. His body comes alive with your juices. You didn’t care what the initiation was as long as you got to be accepted into his world. And be with him without shame.

“I don’t want to put you through that.”

“You don’t want to give me the chance to accept? Or is this about you?”

“If you’re a ride or die — there’s things you have to do to prove you're loyal to the group. Even the women. You’re still in school. And I’m biding my time for us to…us to…fuck just stick it in,” he is rock hard, and you’re weeping for him. Your body craves the way he feels so much. It’s like the only way you stay alive, and present, and with him that doesn't involve a painful reminder of what your current life is.

“Ri, I’m dying. You’re soaked, and I can’t think right now,” he’s stalling. Distracting you with his dick, so you forget all about what it takes to be part of his group. “Ri. Please, baby.”

Adjusting your weight, you reach between your legs, guiding his steel length to your core. Not even teasing your entrance, you push through. Not stopping your descent until he’s fully sheathed, and you sigh. Looking up at the ceiling while his hands explore your curves.

At the party it’s so hard and fast and just about getting off, but in the privacy of your bedroom it’s like you’re discovering each other for the first time. His calloused fingertips move over every inch of your body. Ghosting over your supple skin before settling on your tits.

They gently graze over your pebbled peaks, tweaking and teasing them until they’re as hard as his cock. Giving them a hard pinch before you start bouncing over top of him. Riding him like it is your job. Like it’s your purpose. Steve stares up at you like you’re a goddess, and this time, you take his pleasure. Steal it right from his lungs with every whining moan that echoes from his sinful mouth.

He may like things rushed, but you love when he worships you. Staring up at you like you’re the only person in the world while your body swallows him. Fusing the two of you as one, just like you are meant to be. Nothing feels as good as Steve. Nothing is more beautiful and pure as when the two of you connect.

It doesn’t matter the pace that you move over him, it just matters that he is in you. A part of you. Something so beautiful, and you can receive the best pleasure known to man. This isn’t taking, it’s equally being in awe and so in love with each other. The universe dealt you and Steve some of the worst cards, but you have each other. Of all the bad in your life he is the only good. The solace outside of the chaos that you seek refuge within.

“Shh, Ri, you’re getting too loud, baby. Look at me,” opening your eyes, you lock eyes with him, holding his gaze makes this experience so much more intense. Like the two of you are floating in the clouds by yourself. Don’t even notice anything around you. “There, right there, baby. Fuck, you’re amazing. Heavenly.”

That’s how he feels to you, heavenly. If you could take him and you and live in the middle of nowhere and survive off each other’s touch, you would in a split second. “My god. Ri, this is…uhhh,” his eyes roll into the back of his head, and now is the time you need him.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he stares up at you confused, and lost in his pleasure. “Don’t make me get off. Fill me. Come inside me.”

“Don’t ask me, we can’t.”

“I’m on the pill,” it takes him no time to push his hips up, and flip the two of you over. Slamming his hands on your bed frame, and he rails into you. Fucking you so deep you swear you see stars. Nothing in your room is visible anymore. Just Steve.

You run your nails down his back, and settle on his ass, pushing him even deeper into your soul. You want to feel him for the rest of the day. Walk funny. Keep a part of him inside of you. “Yeah. Steve, I’m going to…I’m going to…oh fuck, fuck — fuck me!”

Biting on your lip, you let the words grunt out of you as your walls clench around his cock. Putting him into a vice grip as it milks every bit of his delicious thick cum. Spurting his seed into your core just where it belongs. The first time you have ever felt him like that, and you sigh as you smile up at him, but his face falls.

“He’s came in you, hasn’t he?”

“What? No. No, Steve, don’t ruin this. It’s just been you. Don’t. I-I-I can’t. Just don’t right now. Love me. Love me!” This has taken a drastic turn and you try to bring him back to you, and into this moment. It’s a struggle to register just what it is he’s asking.

“Ri?”

“You were the first. I-I-It has only been you. Don’t fight this. I need your touch right now. Don’t leave me this time. Please, don’t,” what is it with him and always finding a dramatic way to leave when you just want his touch, and to hold you? It’s like he’s forgetting an important part about being inside of you.

“You’re lying to me,” his voice is so flat and without emotion as he starts pulling out of you. Giving you no time to relish in the feeling of him still inside of you. “Why are you lying?”

“Steve, please, just look. Look at the mess we made. Look at…look at me. Don’t. Just don’t run away,” you feel your heart start to crack into tiny little shards as he stands up from the bed. Leaning down to pick up his clothes. “Steve. Just lay in bed with me a little bit. I’ll keep you inside of me the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want him touching you anymore. And don’t ask me to go to those parties.”

“Steve?” You can’t even hide the tears that well in your eyes. “We were going to hang out tonight. You can fuck me on the couch in front of everybody. Really claim me. They’ll never touch me.”

“Rio, I’ve got…I’ve got some things to do today.”

“You bastard, Steve Rogers,” you don’t raise your voice as he opens up your bedroom door.

“Clean yourself up,” he closes the door gently, but you launch a pillow towards the opening. Holding in a scream as you make a muffled sound in your throat. Going to your closet, and throwing on whatever you can before going into yours and Becca’s shared bathroom. Angrily brushing your teeth. Two can play that game.

Becca opens up her door. Looking up and down at you, while she leans against the frame. It only pisses you off further. You assume your gums are bleeding by how harshly you brush them. Finishing up by spitting into the basin, and turning to glare at her, “What? What could you possibly want?”

She walks into the bathroom, grabbing up her own toothbrush before looking at you through the mirror. Turning back to you, and she leans into your ear, “You’re leaking,” your hand goes in between your legs, and you gulp. Steve’s cum.

“You know, if you want to be Steve’s sloppy little slut, maybe you should have the decency to fuck him outside of my parents’ house. And maybe you should clean yourself up just like he asked. I wouldn’t be awake if you weren’t so damn loud.”

“Why don’t you ask your brother how loud I can be, you bitch,” you spin around, and close the door on her. She hated you, and you know she hates the idea of you being with her brother even more. Fucking Bucky. He had to ruin the first good thing you and Steve could have had. And the worst part is, you didn’t even get to enjoy your first creampie. Or the second.

You just have to get out of here. You didn’t want to stay inside all Saturday. If you’re going to be alone, you’re going to be alone outdoors. Riding your bike. Going anywhere. But clearly going alone. Steve is going to have to stop being such a scared little shit. He’d see how much the two of you are meant to roam the world together, and without these people surrounding you. That’s what he needs. To get away. Maybe you should see what you can do about finishing high school early. It wouldn’t take too long. Maybe a few weeks. You could do it, and it would be worth it to have him how you want him.

——

Sniffling you start to stumble again. Giggling when you fall onto the train tracks. Today was hell. Any day where you have to think too much always is, but today was particularly bad. Your body itched, and you cried, and laughed. All day until you were able to swipe a few bottles of Boone’s Farm, and stuff them in your backpack.

Even though you struggle, you manage to stand back up, and attempt to balance on the tracks. Wobbling, but righting yourself until you fall onto your back, and you groan at how uncomfortable the backpack feels underneath you. Lumpy and pushing into your spine in an aggravating way.

“Ugh,” maneuvering it off your back, you pull out another bottle. “Ooh, blue this time,” removing the top you take a long swig of the drink. It now tastes like a delicacy, and you’re thankful for that. Placing the cap back on, you lay back on the tracks, and gaze up at the night sky.

“I hate you,” you wonder who it is you’re talking about. Definitely Steve, but a small part of you is yourself. You’re only refuge is Steve and somehow you always fucked it up. You should have relished in that moment today, but instead you pissed him off. What else was he supposed to do? You betrayed him and you had to think.

No one had even come looking for you. Becca wouldn’t. She hates you as much as you hate her. She couldn’t understand the pull you and Steve had to each other, and she was probably jealous that he chose you over her anyways. But with you it wasn’t even a choice. Your parents had all died to make sure you ended up together, and you are constantly fucking it up.

You feel your eyes start to get heavy. With the stars as your blanket it’s a comforting feeling. It isn’t too cold tonight, and you have a break from your brother that crawls into your bedroom, or the other one that you allowed to come inside of you. You let the stars spin around you, lulling you into a sleep.

Fighting to keep your nightmares at bay while your dreams are losing the battle. Happy domestic times where you have a home constantly flooding, or you’re drowning in the tub. Spirals of weird shapes and faces. Grotesque and still beautiful in its way. You feared the river, but thanked it for bringing you closer to Steve. The water tried to win, but like a knight in shining armor Steve defeated it. And now you were forged together.

“Oh my god!” You can still feel his lips on yours for the first time as he breathed life back into you, and you clung to him. It was the second time your life course changed forever. “Rio!”

“Go away,” you moan, turning to your side. “Holy fuck,” sitting up, you scoot away from him. “You’re not Steve.”

“Why the hell would I be Steve? What…?” He picks up the bottle of wine, and you try to take it from him, but he’s too fast, “How much have you drunk?” Johnny takes a long pull of the bottle before he spits it out. What a waste, you could have drank that. “This shit is disgusting. Blue Hawaiian? They didn’t have the strawberry one?”

“Already drunk,” hiccuping, you let your eyes start to close again. Blocking him from the evening. If you blocked him, maybe he would go away.

“Ri, drinking by yourself is usually a sign that there’s a problem,” rolling your eyes open, you stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry, and he chuckles at you. “Falling asleep on the tracks sounds like a horrible idea, too.”

“The train hasn’t worked for years,” he smiles, taking another drink from the bottle. He keeps his eyes on you, actually swallowing the neon liquid. “I thought it tasted like shit?”

“Yeah, still does. But I can’t have you drinking alone, or I’ll have to call you an alcoholic,” he’s insufferable. You had another bottle, so you grab your backpack, and pull out the final one. “Cherry? What did you do, rob the grocery store, and you didn’t know what to get, so you got a little bit of everything?”

“You know me so well, Johnny. Tell me more,” his eyes make a slow descent down your body before taking a drink. “That’s what I thought.”

“I know you think you and Steve belong together, but you have the most twisted version love I’ve ever seen.”

“Yep, that’s my cue to leave,” it’s a bit of a struggle to stand up with the bottle, but you do it. Bending over to retrieve your backpack, some of the cherry wine pours onto the ground, but you don’t care. You just start walking.

“I know that anytime someone brings him up in a negative way, you run away,” asshole. It’s best not to react, so you take another drink. Hobbling down the tracks. Tripping over your own feet. “I know that he’s allowed to be with other women because he doesn’t want his weird ass gang to have a part of you, but you behave and stay at home waiting on him.”

Things are complicated between you and Steve. No one would understand. That’s a promise you and him had made years ago. They couldn’t understand because they didn’t want to. “I know that every time he fucks you at a party, you leave looking sadder and sadder. Nobody ever cares how you feel when Steve is always the problematic one. Always getting arrested, and needing bailed out of jail. And then he whines and goes to you for the comfort that only you can provide.”

“And I know you’re,” you spin around too fast, and everything goes in slow motion as your body shakes and wobbles before you feel gravity start to pull you down, but Johnny moves quickly, grabbing at your waist, and pulling you into him. And you gulp as you stare up at him. His jaw is oddly pretty.

“I’m what?”

“An asshole who they won’t allow in with them.”

“You wanna know the real secret, Rio? I don’t want to be part of them. I didn’t want to go through the initiation because it’s demeaning and fucking sick. The worst way to prove your loyalty, and it’s just so they all get a taste of each others’ property. Because that’s all you are,” what the hell is he even talking about. You were property. You were to be used. And that’s how it shows they’re loyal. You head starts spinning in the process of trying to put it all together.

An odd noise builds up in your throat, and Johnny has you spun around in his arms, leaning you over the tracks, and you hurl your guts out. Eyes watering as your body expels everything from the night, and still he holds you. Never stops no matter how disgusting this is.

When everything is released from your body, he pulls you back into him, “Get on my back.”

“No. Let me lay here in peace,” weirdo. He just wants you on top of him. And you can’t have that. You have to be alone until Steve finds you. Because that’s how it always happens.

“The temperature is dropping.”

“And I can’t go home drunk,” he doesn’t wait for you to get on his back, just places you on there, and you don’t want to fight. You’re tired of fighting for the night. You’re just tired. You let your head rest on his shoulder as he continues to follow the tracks. “Where are we going?”

“To my house,” it’s a simple enough answer, and you can think of the consequences later. He feels quite comfortable, and you let him carry you into whatever next fight that this will cause. It will cause an uproar with Steve, and Johnny may not be here the next day, but it was his decision. He wanted to talk about steve’s problems with the law, but has no problem with being the reason Steve gets in trouble again. If he’s caught.

You feel him walking up steps when you finally open your eyes, and look around confused. He carries you to a couch before he walks back down the narrow hall, and starts moving around a small kitchen. You look over everything, smiling despite the sick taste in your mouth. “I’ve got extra toothbrushes if you want to um, well brush your teeth,” he peeks over to you on the couch, nodding towards the back of the hall.

You follow where he’s looking, smiling even bigger, “This is a train car.”

“Yeah,” how can someone just respond so simply to that? There is no explanation as to why he’s living in a train car. And what exactly is in the other ones. “The next car over is the bathroom, and the one after that is my bedroom.”

“How? And why?”

“Storm Railroad Company, really?” You’re a fucking idiot. Of course. “I don’t know, I like living in the middle of the woods, alone, so nobody can bother me. Asked my granddad if I could, and he said, sure. So here we are,” he walks over towards you with a plate, and you stare at it. “It’s buttered toast. Here.”

He sits down on the other end of the couch, as far away as he can get, and you keep staring at the toast. “Why are you being so nice to me?” No one has every showed you kindness like this. It’s like he’s wanting to take care of you just when you need it.

“Because no one else takes care of you,” for someone who has had such a short life, you have felt more pain than most. Your life changed drastically in a short amount of time. You nearly drowned, and continue to have nightmares, but you have Steve. “Eat, Rio. There was no food in your vomit. When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning I had some powdered donuts,” taking a slow and timid bite, you look out in front of you, so you don’t have to see his face. It pisses you off because he’s being not only nice, but sweet.

“It’s nearly midnight,” you shrug your shoulders. Your bites start to quicken as you let the simple meal take you away from this morning with Steve. Johnny is too observant, and too smart. You feel his eyes on you, and you wish you could just go into a small hole, so he couldn’t see you. And then there is a tiny, minuscule part that wishes he’d look harder.

“What’s on your wrist?” You shrug, picking up the other piece of toast, and he reaches over to pull your wrist to him. His soft fingers rub over the area before he sighs. “You want to talk about why you do that?” you shrug again, stuffing the remaining bread in your mouth, and he stands up to gather your plate.

“This could be easier if you just talk,” this could be easier if he just knew.

“Why do you care?”

“You fascinate me,” he slumps back on the couch, and still keeps the same amount of distance from you. “You want that toothbrush now?” You shake your head no, and look back towards the kitchen. “You thirsty for something that’s not cheap ‘wine’?” You give him a nod, and he smiles as he gets up. Pouring you a glass of Sunny D before the same routine happens. Still just as far away.

“Sunny D? Seriously?”

“I don’t want to hear any lip from the girl who was drinking Blue Hawaiian Boone’s Farm, you understand?” You giggle as you take a sip from the cup. “That was a genuine smile and laugh,” the way he looks at you should make you uncomfortable. He studies you. But instead of feeling an unease, you like being noticed.

“I do that sometimes.”

“You should do it often,” conflicting worm up your chest with that admission. He likes your laugh, but what do you have to laugh about?

“Not all of us grew up rich and with our parents,” he gives you a single nod, and you have to look straight ahead again. He’s intense in a different way from Steve. With Steve you know him better than you know yourself, and know what his intentions are. Johnny is a mystery, and it puzzled you why he even cares. You are a nobody, while he’s from the richest family in town. He’s privileged in a way you could never understand.

“You want to tell me about the band on your wrist?”

“Why do you care?”

He sighs, realizing cracking you isn’t going to be easy. All you want to do is go around in circles with the same responses. “Maybe I just want to talk to you.”

“Snapping it on my wrist is like remembering what real life is. You know the saying pinch me because I’m dreaming? I have nightmares about drowning. Not always, but a lot of the time. And it just helps me remember when I’m awake and when it’s just a dream that can’t hurt me,” he reaches for your hand again but pauses before touching you. “What?”

“Can I take it off for you? Just for tonight?”

“Why?” It’s an odd question.

“I’ll wake you up if I see you’re having a nightmare,” you stare at him. Actually analyze him because you have no idea how you’re supposed to respond to that. It shocked you to have someone that wanted that responsibility.

“How will you know if I’m on the couch?”

“Oh, you thought you were sleeping on the couch? No. I have a gigantic bed back there. It’s not like we have to sleep right next to each other, but you look like you need some luxury. Are you still hungry?” You shake your head no, and he stands, holding a hand out towards you. “I won’t bite.”

You should run away, and go home. Pretend all of this didn’t happen, but you don’t want to. It feels like the first time anyone has ever truly cared about your well being. You aren’t sure what Steve thought the rubber bands were for, but he never truly asked, just asked why you are wearing them again. Making yourself that vulnerable to Johnny feels freeing. Like a brick that you’ve carried on your back for a while was removed.

You let him lead you to the bathroom car, and you stop. “I need to pee.”

“You need to brush your teeth, too. Here,” he reaches into a cabinet pulling out a never been opened toothbrush, and hands it to you. “You want to take a shower?” Yes. You can’t tell him that. “Let me get you one of my shirts, and some boxers. I know it’s not the most ideal, and had I known you would be staying the night, I could have been prepared. But I also didn’t know I would find you on my walk home.”

Without responding, he just wanders back into what you’re assuming is the last train car, and you just stand there. It’s overwhelming to think someone is as kind to you as Johnny. There had to be some form of a catch, nobody does all this for nothing in return. But you couldn’t quite figure it out, unless it is just physical with him.

He jogs back into the middle car, and you have to tell him. Be up front with him, “I’m not going to have sex with you,” he lays the shirt and boxers on the vanity for you, and stares at you oddly. Scratching the back of his head as he contemplates how he’s going to kick you out. There it is. That was always what he was after. You should have known.

“I wasn’t planning on having sex with you either. Number one, you’re drunk. You’re sobering up, but you’re still drunk. Sorry, you can’t consent to me when you’re partially intoxicated. Number two, pretty sure you’ve got whatever with Steve, and I’m good. Number three, I’m not interested. You look like you need a friend more than you need another man shoving themself into you.”

You nod. Stepping into the room that he had fashioned as the shower, and close the door. You couldn’t look at him after that confession. It’s a lot to process while your brain is addled with the usual bullshit, but nasty wine on top of it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you call out to him. You can’t ever recall someone saying sorry, and it sounds genuine. Why is your life so fucked up? And why did you keep digging yourself a deeper hole? Whatever this was, Steve would never think it’s innocent. “Johnny?”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t,” that helps. A little bit.

Stepping into the shower you turn it as hot as you can stand. You didn’t realize how cold you have gotten. How being outside in the night, and this — situation, has made you freeze. You hate being cold. Cold brings out the bad thoughts and feelings. You let his shower wash them all away. Didn’t even care to see the feelings swirl down the drain. You were going to do this. Go on a journey to gods know where. All because you selfishly don’t want to be cold, or alone. And Johnny is a friend. You desperately need a friend.

Nobody had even called or texted you tonight. The lost and forgotten girl. The Barnes’ couldn’t wait to get rid of you, but you thought Steve would have sent something. Guess it means he found another woman for the evening. But you got to have him inside of you all day. You wonder if that meant as much to him as it did you. And wonder what it is that let him know what Bucky did. Another moment stolen from you.

But there’s comfort in knowing that nobody could steal these moments from you. Because they wouldn’t even know. If your friends want to abandon you, and your family, and your soulmate why couldn’t you abandon them? A deep pang in your stomach reminds you that you could never abandon Steve. Just the thought of being without him feels like torture. One of these days all this pain would be worth it.

Maybe.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @musingsfromthemitten

[moonselune]

Would you ever consider doing an Astarion/f!reader/Gale love triangle Drabble or one shot? (Astarion endgame maybe oop?) if not dw!!!!✨

This is tooth rottingly sweet, I was a bit unsure about this one because my immediate instinct when there's a love triangle is to just let them all kiss lmao

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x f!reader x Gale

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The camp was a place of tension, not just because of the ever-present threats lurking in the shadows, but also because of the complicated dynamics between its members. Amidst the flickering campfires and whispered conversations, a love triangle had quietly taken root, drawing you, Astarion, and Gale into its tangled web.

Gale had always been the romantic, the one to sweep you off your feet with his eloquence and charm. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he approached you with a gentle smile, his eyes twinkling with the promise of magic and wonder.

“May I have a moment of your time?” he asked, his voice as smooth as silk.

You nodded, curiosity piqued. Gale led you to a secluded spot by the river, where he conjured a shimmering illusion of stars and galaxies swirling above you. The sight was breathtaking, each twinkling light reflecting in his eyes as he recited a poem he had written just for you.

His words were like honey, sweet and mesmerizing. You felt yourself being drawn into the enchantment of the moment, the magic he wielded wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Gale’s ability to captivate and awe was unparalleled, and for a time, you were lost in the beauty of his world.

Astarion watched from a distance, his keen eyes taking in every detail. He had to admit, Gale was a formidable rival. The way he could charm with his words and dazzle with his magic was impressive. But Astarion knew that sweet words and illusions would not be enough to win your heart; he needed to show you something raw, something real. And it wasn't just because he had already played that card with you - definitely not.

The next day, as the group ventured out to face a band of marauding gnolls, Astarion saw his opportunity. The battle was fierce, with gnashing teeth and snarling beasts lunging at every turn. But Astarion was relentless, his movements swift and precise as he cut through the enemies with lethal grace.

He fought with a ferocity that took even the gnolls by surprise, his eyes never straying far from you. With each foe he felled, he moved closer, his intention clear. When the last of the gnolls lay defeated, their bodies formed an unintentional pattern on the ground—a shape that, with a bit of imagination, resembled a heart.

Breathing heavily, Astarion approached you, his expression softening as he took your hand. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks to you.”

Astarion’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes were serious. “I’d fight a thousand battles if it meant keeping you safe.”

As he led you back to camp, his hand never leaving yours, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words. There was something undeniably real about the way he cared for you, something that went beyond mere words and magic.

Back at the camp, Gale watched your return with a resigned smile. He approached the two of you, his demeanor calm and gracious. “Astarion,” he began, his tone respectful, “I have to give credit where it’s due. Your bravery and skill today were remarkable.”

Astarion inclined his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you, Gale.”

Gale turned to you, his expression gentle but resolute. “I can see where your heart lies, and I respect your choice. It seems Astarion is the one who truly holds your affections.”

You looked between the two men, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection for both. “Gale, you’ve been wonderful,” you said softly. “Your kindness and your magic have touched me deeply, I will never forget it.”

Gale smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I’m glad I could share those moments with you. But I think it’s clear who your heart belongs to.”

With that, he stepped back, conceding with grace. Astarion pulled you closer, his eyes shining with a mix of triumph and tenderness. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I intend to cherish you every day.”

And in that moment, you knew that despite the complexities and the rivalries, you had found something genuine and profound in Astarion’s love—a love that would stand the test of time and adversity.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Poor Gale, maybe he should have mentioned his practiced tongue a bit more, hope you liked it! - Seluney

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

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

You’re like a drug

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[natalievoncatte]

Nothing has ever hit Lena like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It skipped now.

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

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

And then there was a wind.

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

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

“Are you okay? Lena?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kara Danvers believes in you.

Take me instead!

I can’t hold both! You have to jump!

I will always protect you.

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

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

It was her.

It had always been her.

Noticing small details about them (physically)

[emeritus-fuckers]

HI I LOVE Y'ALL'S BLOG SO MUCH!!! AAAA

Okay, I'll calm down now. I was wondering if you'd be interested by the idea of a newly summoned ghoul reader struggling to get to grips with their instrument and panicking about not being good enough for tour yet and being comforted by one of the ghouls?

I'm currently struggling to learn bass to get good enough for a band I have a chance to be in and it's really wreaking havoc on my mental health being so confused and getting it wrong over and over and y'all's writing in comfort scenarios always makes me feel better... So I thought I'd shoot my shot!

I hope you're having an amazing day, this blog brightens up my day every time! <3

Water ghouls helping a newly summoned ghoul learn their instrument

Chain (it/ghoul)

Chain is a fucking goofball.

Don't let its big, intimidating form fool you, Chain is a goofy dumbass who can barely keep up a "mysterious" act.

So when you come to ghoul and ask to learn how to play bass, it's delighted to help, all giggly and shit.

Ghoul's not the best teacher, he gets too excited and ahead of ghoulself, teaching you the "cool" riffs becore the easy ones.

It does get bonus points for being patient and hyping you up, though.

And the reward kisses. The reward kisses are nice.

Lake (he/him)

He comes accross very serious and when you ask him and you are pretty nervous.

He nods and gestures for you to follow him. He finds a cozy practice room well out of the way.

Despite his scary front he takes teaching you very seriously and is very supportive.

He's actually a really good teacher and takes time to show you good technique and teach you the songs you need to learn.

He rarely gives out compliments but when he does you know he completely means it.

Also when you get him to smile, either by a joke or playing well or just by being yourself.

You end up getting very close.

River (they/them)

They are a slut about it. A complete whore.

Every single dirty joke they can make while teaching you is made. Everything from fingering it correctly to thrusting with their own bass.

Shockingly, they are still a very good teacher. Only making the dirty jokes as you get closer to mastering each skill.

River definitely sits behind you to guide your hands on new notes and skills, hands on teacher when it’s needed. Only with consent of course.

Will absolutely bring you out for food after practice. They’re a slut but a classy slut. They buy you dinner before trying to get in your pants.

Cowbell (they/it)

It's a bit surprised to be your choice for bass lessons. After all, their only real performance was what landed them a name. And it was just trying to prank Papa.

But, the name stuck and it just couldn't go out of its way to change it, especially when you started to use "Cowie" as a cute little nickname that they just needed to hear every single day of its life.

But, fortunately for you, they just so happen to play bass as well, just like most water ghouls. They were just beginner level, but still.

You two practice together, figuring the instrument out.

It's a lot of fun, both you and Cowbell enjoy it a lot, even if it's a bit frustrating sometimes. At least you get frustrated together, right?

You end up better than it. Somehow, you end up tutoring them, instead of the other way around.

Mist (he/she)

He's thrilled to help out with that. Mist really likes alone time together, especially if you two just chill, enjoying a common hobby.

So she's happy to teach you guitar. Might offer playing Guitar Hero first so you can train your fingers a bit.

The first song you learn how to play is Gorillaz's Feel Good Inc., which is her favorite non-Ghost song. And the bass is very pleasant in the song.

He casually rests against your back, just listening to you play and giving small comments on what you can do better whenever you mess up.

There's this weird feeling of comfort during your practice sessions.

She starts a tickle fight the moment you put the guitar down.

Never let them know your next move type of shit.

Rain (he/she/ve)

He's a bit surprised when you ask, but doesn't see a reason to refuse.

But hey, ve's a good teacher! Really good, actually.

Rain sometimes even organizes classes for ghouls and Siblings who want to play bass.

She first gets you your own bass and lets you customize it with stickers. Not many people know this, but Sodo got the "YouSuck" sticker from her.

He's very patient with you, starting with basic notes and riffs before slowly moving to more complicated stuff.

Somehow, no matter who ve's teaching, her work is always excellent when it comes to teaching.

And he's very sweet with his rewards, if you catch my drift.

Storm (they/he)

They're chill with the idea. I mean, if you wanna learn, then who is he to deny you the fun that is playing bass?

Also, he doesn't say bass like the instrument, he says it like the fish, which is sorta funny during the lessons.

No, they will not be corrected on how to say it.

He's gonna sit you in his lap and show you everything, step by step.

They also let you experiment and play around, offering tips whenever you ask.

A decent teacher, not too great but not too bad, either.

~

Chain, Cowbell, Mist, Rain and Storm written by Nosferatu.

Lake written by Nyx.

River written by Death.

[sapphire-writes]

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) 2

previous ~ next ~ series masterlist

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

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

warnings: language, drinking, cheating, general sensual themes

word count: 4.9k

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

masterlist

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

7:06 AM. Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aemond’s phone chirps from the counter. 

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

The phone buzzes again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aegon snores in response. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Just us?” 

Rhaena nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not his keeper.”

“Neither am I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baela continues to beg, and you finally agree. 

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

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

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

“Was it ever out?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. My. God.”

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

Oh fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, they’re at the bar.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I hear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two girlfriends not cutting it?” you remark.

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

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

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

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

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

Rhaena joins you as well. 

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

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

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

He’s watching you again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you say, returning his smile.

“I’m Cregan.”

“Y/N.”

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

“Buy you a drink?”

“She’s taken.”

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

“I’m not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna fuck that guy?” he asks. 

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

Aemond only scoffs, leaning over you. 

“Aegon’s your boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?” he says, half joking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

note: kisses ily all so much MWAH 😘

[neverchecking]

Day 5: Sweat- Twilight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, he nodded. 

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

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

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

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

“Do it again.” 

You paused. “What?” 

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

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

“I said, do it again.”

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 3 Reveals 2024

hiraeth and hwyl (Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl no Ugoku Shiro | Howl's Moving Castle, Piranesi - Susanna Clarke, Betrayal at House on the Hill) created and performed by AirgiodSLV, CompassRose, ellejabell, epaulettes, kitkat50311, mahons_ondine, minnabird, and sisi_rambles Summary: You find yourself looking at a door. It looks like an ordinary door, but you’re somehow certain that it isn’t. In theory, you could open the door…but something warns you off. You might not survive, if you pass through that door. You might no longer be you.

I Could Eat A Peach for Hours [text, audio] (Stranger Things (TV 2016)) written by ArtaxLivs, performed by rufusbear Summary: “Robin, it’s fucking obscene.” “You’re obscene,” she squawks. “I am but he’s so much worse,” Eddie insists. “He just, oh my god, all week Robin. All. Fucking. Week.” “I do not need to know about your weird food kinks,” Robin makes a face and then pretends to gag. “It’s not a fucking food kink, it’s a Steve’s mouth kink,” Eddie growls.

Lost and Found (Firefly (TV 2002)) written by Ballad_of_Firefly, performed by InterstellarBlue Summary: Looking up, the apology died in his throat. Familiar brown eyes stared down at him and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. They looked exactly like River's. Gabriel Tam's eyes narrowed. "Simon."

born to go through trouble (The Odyssey - Homer, EPIC - Jorge Rivera-Herrans (Albums), Ancient Greek Religion & Lore) written by BubblesKat, performed by ShakespeareStoleMyURL Summary: Something is wrong. I don’t understand what happened. I swore I was dreaming when I awoke inside the horse in Troy, but I was immediately discovered and killed. Then, I woke up again in the exact same circumstances. -- or, Odysseus finds himself in a time loop, waking up inside the Trojan horse over and over and over

The shadow of our Light (Shadowhunters (TV)) written by HadrianPeverellBlack, performed by Hagar Summary: Alec's and Jace's relationship. 5 times they thought they weren't enough for the other, and the one time they realized they were enough

Who is the Maestro? (SEVENTEEN (Band)) written by halotolerant, performed by pezzax Summary: Warning. Critical power failure. Metronome is offline. Do you wish to try again? - Wonwoo versus the AI

Meditations II: A Simple Method for Reducing Mental Distractions and Courting the Elusive Muse, by Professor Pankratz (Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types) written by LenaLawlipop, performed by Chantress and Luninarie Summary: The rustling of wind and chirping of birds can be heard, it’s warm… Not obscenely so, only just enough to make your eyes very, very heavy. Distantly, you can hear the professor writing, chalk on blackboard marking the steady passing of time until your next break. Soon, however, the rhythmic tap of the chalk comes to a halt. Too soon, in fact. It’s not time for that break yet. "Alright, everyone, close your books. Unfortunately, the time has come again. Once more, I find myself wondering, why is everyone so quiet? Am I perchance teaching something useful, against my better judgement?"

Or, a guided meditation for focus, based on mantras.

have you worked out what we’re looking for (Men's Hockey RPF) written by polyabathtub, performed by cosmicanon Summary: Things high school biology teacher Leon Draisaitl does not appreciate: - Being pulled out of one of his sections of freshman biology for three weeks - So that he can co-teach a junior year health class with PE teacher Matthew Tkachuk - Who is always encouraging his students to do things other than their homework, and has an easy job that doesn’t require him to spend his entire life lesson planning and grading - He’s also so unfairly hot that it makes it hard for Leon to remember that he’s in the closet at work

Dispatch [text, audio] (The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison) written by sophiegaladheon, performed by dontneedaclassroom Summary: Emperor Varenechibel IV has been killed and Csevet has been tasked with delivering the most important letter of his career as a courier.

Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game: Episode 23 - Palmetto State Foxes (All For The Game - Nora Sakavic) created by Syr and Opalsong Summary: The sports podcast for people who don't like sports! Episode 23 focuses on Exy and the Palmetto State Foxes and the massive amounts of drama that happened this season. We didn't have to dig deep for this one folks; there was so much drama we didn't even get to it all.

So We Can Begin [text, audio] (Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy) written by wanderingjedihistorian, performed by kbirb, flowerparrish, and wanderingjedihistorian Summary: Bail and Breha are soulmates, but they each have two soulmarks meaning they have a third soulmate. When Bail meets Fox, he knows he's found their third. The war makes Fox and Breha getting to know each other difficult, but messages and holo recordings are easy enough to send.