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chuluoyi · 7 months

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UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 01

✩°｡ ⋆ to be wed

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, family drama, angst to eventual fluff in later chapters, slight profanity (hopefully)

notes: in case you are wondering―no. this isn't a love triangle between you, megumi and naoya. naoya is an antagonist side piece to make this story spicier.

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | prelude <- previous ✩ next -> chapter two : unholy matrimony

Megumi had known it all along, that sooner or later, his checkered past would come back to bite him.

When Gojo told him that the Zen’in had called to make him reclaim his birthright, he was at a loss for words. And when he further explained that to stake his claim he had to make his standing clear and strong by marrying a girl he barely knew, he was angry.

"I don't want a place in that Zen'in hell. Forget it, you're making no sense."

"Megumi," Gojo started, crossing his arms and looking at him with a meaningful smirk and Megumi so badly wanted to wipe it off his sensei's face. "It's yours by right. All those things you've endured until now? It's for this precise moment. They covet your Ten Shadows Technique, and so you already have an advantage against Naoya. You have the chance to save your sister, Maki and Mai from that hell."

He shot him an irritated look. "I like my current life now, why would I go back there? And how do I save Tsumiki by fighting over inheritance against Zen'in Naoya? Are you right in the head, Gojo-sensei?"

"When you have a clan as prominent as Zen'in at your disposal, you can find an easier way to break her curse," his teacher said, visibly proud with his suggestion. "And that's why I'm telling you―the Hara girl is your key for that. Naoya wants to marry her, but if you do it first, then everything is yours for the taking."

Megumi recognized you as the girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High in his school days. He remembered seeing you during the goodwill event, and the only lasting impression he had of you was that you managed to befriend Inumaki, even though he just babbled a bunch of random onigiri ingredients.

Aside from that, he knew too little about you to draw a conclusion on anything.

"Don't you want to save Tsumiki?" Gojo was playing with his weakness, and Megumi knew it. He was trying to get him to do this insane bidding, but found himself unable to reject him outright the second time.

Did he want his birthright? No. Of course not. Megumi had enough of shit in his life already, and he was content with the way things were now.

But to save Tsumiki?

Apparently he was crazy enough to go with this.

And that was how he found himself walking by the temples in the Zen’in compound with you.

“Do you despise this arrangement?” you asked him warily, trying to gauge his emotions at all, because ever since the talk inside he had been nothing but a straight face. Even faced with Naoya’s boiling fury, he merely kept his silence. Now only Gojo stayed inside to broker the agreement with the Zen’in for your hand in this marriage with him instead of Naoya.

He stopped walking, and paused a moment to look at you, before sighing. “Would it make a difference if I was?”

“I suppose not.” You looked away, suddenly feeling guilty. He didn’t know that you have forced Gojo’s hand, and for a long time, you certainly didn’t want him to know. Your cover story was your clan wanted you to be betrothed to the Zen’in who inherits their signature fatal technique. “But you’re still human, and have feelings. You must feel something right now, like resentment towards me.”

Megumi scoffed. He had learned from a long time ago that people didn’t care about his feelings, or about him as a person at all.

“Hating you doesn’t make it any better for both of us, does it?” his gaze remained impassive.

If he was already this prickly, what would he do when the truth did come out? You swallowed your worry though, and put on your brave face.

“I know you don’t want this. Neither do I. But I think it’ll do us better if we can get to know each other first.”

“Right now?” he looked at you incredulously, having the expression of someone whose patience was being tested. “What more do I have to know? You’re Hara Sena. You went to Kyoto High, we were in the same year. And Naoya seems to have some sort of obsession with you by the way he keeps glaring at me for this.”

You widened your eyes at the blatant refusal. “Fushiguro Megumi, you’re as unfriendly as everyone says,” you retorted, now vexed at his biting tone. “You certainly live up to your reputation.”

“I know.”

For the first time after meeting him today, Megumi's mouth twisted into a genuine smirk. A chuckle escaped him as he looked at the boring lengths of the trees around him.

"How did you live all this time without Zen'in clan's intervention?" you cut through the awkward silence beside him.

"Why do you care about how I grew up?"

"Nothing, just curious is all. You are to be my husband and we must at least be on talking terms."

He let out a groan. "You're really going to be this way the whole time, won't you?"

"Come on, answer the question. I'll answer too if you ask me next."

Megumi paused on his tracks, arms on his hips. "Gojo-sensei took care of everything. You've heard how the story goes―that's all there's to it. I owe him my life." He tilted his head to the side, his hands now deep into his pockets. "What about you? What drove you into this?"

You held back a smile. "You might hear it already, my father's principal wife isn't my biological mother. I'm a product of my father's affair. Now I'm plucked as a chess piece to marry into the Zen'in to do my duty as a daughter. We're not so different, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we're just alike..." he mumbled to himself with a heavy tone, continuing the walk. "But then you wouldn't know. I'm not some mistake that got kicked around. There was a purpose behind my upbringing. Gojo-sensei didn't take me in for free."

"Hah," you barked a satire laugh. The nerve of him. "A mistake, huh? True enough."

He side-eyed you, so you elaborated further. You were not above being petty too. "No, I mean I'm the mistake. But you have a grander purpose―that is to serve the purpose of the Zen'in, whatever it is."

Megumi rolled his eyes. He was irritated, but not just because of your snide remark. "Can't have me dying without an heir, apparently," he said dryly, but then his expression changed again to one of disgust. "This whole thing is gross, you know? Us being wed just for a cursed technique. Or filial piety. A bunch of bullshit."

"That's one thing we can agree on," you shrugged, now clearly amused. Hey, maybe a life with him won't be so bad after all. He's quite sarcastic and relatable.

Megumi grunted, and both of you walked in silence for a while. His pace had slowed down a bit and when he spoke, his voice came out softer. "So, you seem pretty level-headed with all of this, and you seem eager to get to know me, why? Not that I'm totally opposed to it, but it's not like we're going to become bosom friends or anything."

You threw him a look. "I'm telling you―I don't want a marriage in which we yell everyday. I don't expect us to fall in love or anything, but the least we can do is become friends, don't you think?"

"Friends?" Megumi wondered out loud. He thought over what you said for a few moments. "Ah, I get it. If you married Zen'in Naoya, you'd spend the rest of your life miserable," he concluded with a click of his tongue. "I am the lesser of two evils, that's why you're fine with this."

"More or less, yes." You shifted your gaze from him to the gardens. "Glad to know you caught on that quick."

"So that's that. And you're right about one thing... we can't just yell at each other every day." He paused for a moment for a dramatic effect and then he chuckled. You were quite scheming, changing sides the moment he was called back into the Zen'in, he thought. "Yeah, now I can see why Naoya was so cranky. You have a way to annoy people," he joked.

"I'm not! I'll have you know I'm quite prim and proper."

"Really? You sure don't come off like that."

You whipped your head at him, halting your steps. Okay, now it's on. You're going to take him with you whether he likes it or not. To hell with what you did behind his back. "Well, you will, dear husband."

You almost let out a snicker when he froze at your usage of that endearment. Oh, so he gets shy easily.

His grip on the fabric of his pockets tightened. "Don't you call me that."

"Why? You are, though."

"I'm not your dear anything!" Megumi snapped, his voice becoming harsher. "I'm forced to enter this shit of a marriage and nothing more."

"Are you blushing?"

He froze again and this time you really laughed at his face.

How could he be blushing right now? Why? He tried to deny it but his face felt hot. "No... I'm not."

"Ahh, so you're that type... Well noted, dear," you winked, and Megumi swore your bright face did something to his insides that made his heart beat a tad bit faster. "I'll make sure to express myself often so you won't have to."

He turned his face away, effectively embarrassed. You were getting on his nerves. "I hate it when you say that."

You literally beamed, peering at him. "No, no. You'll come to find it tolerable."

He frowned. This girl... no one would've expected that you were caught in an unwanted arranged marriage with how freewheeling you seemed. And all in all, you still resembled the happy girl in his memories who tried to make a conversation with Inumaki some years ago. If all he had to do to save Tsumiki was marrying you, then he supposed it wasn't a bad deal after all.

Megumi muttered something under his breath, grumbling to himself.

"...yeah, maybe. We'll see."

"You damnable woman..." Naoya hissed under his breath. His hands clenched as blood seeped between them.

He was a step behind! He could've lost his status as the heir! All because that Gojo Satoru and his very presence insisted that he'd be the sponsor for that washed up bastard Fushiguro!

And that scheming Hara wench... Even you wriggled your way out of his grasp. What sort of ridiculous notion was this? How could he let his pride be stomped twice over the course of one day?

All his life, Naoya was led to believe that he was groomed to be the head of the clan. He was praised, cherished and deemed as the most promising. Everyone else was like ants he could stomp all over. He was born to rule over them.

And he still believed that until now, even as his inheritance was slipping away from his grasp.

He stared at the dead body of a servant girl who just got him his tea with a blank look, and raised his chin up. Undiluted hatred shone right through it.

No one gets away after scratching his back. Maybe Gojo Satoru can, but certainly not a girl from an insignificant clan or a bastard who tried to usurp his place.

Starting from Hara Sena, he thought with a snarl. You might've gotten away from your marriage with him, but he wouldn't let you go so easily. He'd make your life so hellish even when you were not with him.

And then, Fushiguro Megumi. He already had plans for him right from the moment the clan elders showed approval for his claim. He had plotted a way to get rid of him.

A sneer cut through his lips as he kicked the mangled corpse away. "Heh."

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter two : unholy matrimony

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bloodycassian · 1 month

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To Be Wed part two - The Chase

NSFW 18+ MDNI - Part two of To Be Wed. READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING.

WARNINGS / Themes - breeding/pregnancy (not mentioned in scene.) primal play that INVOLVES MAJOR CNC THEMES. Knife play. Edging/teasing. defensive/territorial men. ABO style dicks (knotting. Monster dick style). Cum play. Cuckholding. Voyeur. Outdoor sex + EXHIBITIONISM. Gagging. Forced squirting. pinning/restraint. Eventual pregnancy.

DP - Vaginal and Anal at same time. Vaginal and oral at same time. Vaginal penetration. Anal penetration. Oral penetration. Polyamory.

Hope this one has your butterflies doing the freak. Requests/ideas for kinks are open.

M D N I - 18+ NSFW. READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING.

Something was wrong with Azriel. Something deeply disturbing in his mind that he couldn’t ignore for more than a few moments in a day. He was obsessed. More so than he was with any ordinary thing that piqued his interest. He was completely, and utterly enthralled with the female that had signed her life away so easily.

He couldn’t get enough. Of any of it. From being their bodyguard to their dates, to the sacred moments when he’d fuck her for Rhys. He was loyal to a fault but this was different. This was a hunger that had never been known to him, and he hadn’t an idea of how to satiate it.

Watching Rhys cum inside her served him, he greatly enjoyed watching - but a part of him questioned what would happen when the babe finally came to fruition. After over three months of dedicated fucking - and weekly fertility potions he, Rhys and the female were taking, he feared the time eas coming soon.

The anxiety of the looming date was something that had him searching for alternatives - going to pleasure houses when she wasn't in the mood, but finding nothing to be nearly as stimulating. He’d even tried to recreate the situation, hiring both male and female whores to serve him.

He hadn’t even finished.

Fear and frustration riddled his days when he wasn’t near her.

“Nothing new. I suggest two potions, if you can stomach it.” The healer - Madja, Rhys had informed you each visit - took her hands from just your public bone and brought out the oils she kept below the table.

“Let me do it, this time.” Rhys said, his tone light but saddened. She hesitated, her thick round glasses glinting in the filtered sun coming through the frosted window. It was a cold evening in Velaris, the last of winter going out with a bitter sigh. The skies would lighten and be warm soon, hopefully it would be after the summer months when a child took root in your belly.

The oils served as both a softening to your skin for any potential swelling from the potion, as well as a ritualistic method of fertility from another culture that the healer had mentioned on your first visit here. You’d been trembling and too anxious to recall exactly what it signified and to whom.

The fear came mainly from the judgment. Though the female hadn’t batted an eye when Rhsy has explained the situation, you were still met with stares and upturned noses in the streets when you ventured alone. The High Lord’s broodmare. The child-barer. The Whore. The titles were new, but the glares were something you were accustomed to as a thief and beggar before.

“West to East, High Lord.” Madja gave him a glare, and Rhys grinned. “Opposite of the sun cycle.” She enunciated the word, leading you to believe he’d done some rotten spellwork before by not following her directions.

“Of course.” He sketched a small bow, and you smacked him on the shoulder.

Azriel couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips. She was… He couldn’t describe it any other way aside from ideal. A tolerant soul with a mouth that-

He cut his thoughts off right then and there. Now was not the time for such ideas.

“Thank you.” You said, making meaningful eye contact with the wrinkled female. She had a kind enough look about her, but there was something about the way she carried herself that had your senses on edge.

Her smile was small, tugging at the corners of her leathery skin. “You’ll be a fine mother.” She nodded.

Despite her words, you worried you may never be able to uphold your end of the Bargain.

The tattoo at your clavicle ached.

You were no longe sore after their knots would fill you. Your body had grown accustom to the wonderful stretch of it, taking them with eager ease now. But even though he bit and lapped at you with the same passion as ever, Azriel’s cock seemed less ridigid, the roundness at the base hardly making an appearance even after several minutes of fucking into you.

“Stop.. stop-” You panted. As much as you would have love to cum on him, without his usual size it wasn’t going to happen. That was why he’d always gone second, coaxing that spot inside you over and over again until you broke upon him.

Your legs trembled as he rolled off of you, falling in the middle of you and Rhys. The High Lord handed him a towel, which he draped over his half hard cock. A flick of the hand and Azriel’s shadows set to work on you, collecting at the apex of your thighs in a cool, writhing bundle.

“Stop, Az-” The words were strangled, with the skilled tentacles already setting to work.

They disappeared, going into mist at the command. “Tell me what’s going on.” You demanded, turning on your side to face him. Rhys sat up, his brows pulled together.

Azriel sighed, and shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He put it simply, a male of few words. You knew better. “Tell me or-”

“Or what? You’ll leave? There’s no breaking that bond on your skin. Not until you bear a child.” He spat the words, his features hard, then softening the moment his eyes landed on you. He saw the way you recoiled, your body sagging and the distraught look on your face.

“Azriel-” Rhys began, the tone in authority ringing true and rattling your bones.

“I’m sorry.” Az covered his face with his hands, the raised pattern of his scars interrupted by the smooth lines of veins. “I’m sorry.” He sighed, and sat up as well.

He scooted back, his wings pinched tight against his back as he spoke. “I cant- Ahh.” He rubbed at his face again, his neck and cheeks going a deeper shade. You’d enver seen the shadowsinger so unsure, embarrassed even.

“I fear once you bear a child, that my life may be empty without you.” He said it while looking into your eyes, his own shining true with his statement. Rhys stiffened, his eyes going to you in part questioning himself. He couldnt’ deny he’d had similar thoughts.

“I have no intention of leaving the best sex I’ve ever had only because I am no longer contractually obligated to the sex.” You could have laughed at the obserdity of the idea. You’d called him your own pleasure keeper to his face, and he’d not only laughed but accepted the title. How could he think such things?

“A child may lessen passions for a short while, but from what I’ve heard…” You leaned in close to Azriel’s rounded ear. “Some females find their desires heightened after the babe’s born.”

He turned and looked at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, then to your womb. He placed his hand there and sighed. “I apologize. My words reflect my fears, not how I feel about your faith.” He paused, and when Rhys spoke it was soft.

“I too fear the pregnancy for the same reason. As ridiculous as it is, it makes me wish to not cum, so I may keep the pleasure of this.” His mind reached to yours, and you allowed him entry. Both you and Azriel sucked in a breath at the sight of you riding the shadowsinger, from Rhys’s angle.

“That-” Azriel pushed the high lord from his mind, his cock already hardening from the sight. “-is why I can barely stay hard. I cant stop thinking of not cumming.”

An idea came to you then. A proof of sorts, that even if you did attempt to flee the deal, that them finding you was something you’d already anticipated. You weren’t sure if it would fix their fears, but it did remind you of something you’d always desired.

You straightened, then focused your mind. You’d been able to show them small things before, and now you tried again. “Allow me to show you something that may help.” You mind-spoke to them. It felt like mostly Rhys there, halfway into your mind, but he’d be able to relay the thought to Azriel.

You showed him the images, the birdseye view you imagined of yourself running, panting in a forest midday as you evaded something. Trained wolves and guards shouted behind you, and through the fear of being imprisoned, there was the arousal. The situation had only happened a few times, but each time there’d been that undercurrent that you couldn’t deny. The pleasure that pulsed through you with every stretch of your legs.

The idea of being caught, and made to do whatever they wished. As their prisoner. As their game. You swapped the guards for the night kissed wind of them, their presence, both them hunting you instead.

“Keep what you catch.” Was a phrase hunters used in the most desperate of times. Were they desperate enough?

“Criminal.” Rhys purred in approval. He passed the image to Azriel, who hissed and looked to you with surprise in his eyes. “Filthy thing-” He cursed.

Rhys summoned a set of wooden swords from a pocket of air, disturbing the chill breeze that rolled through the valley. The sun shone down on the trees, but did not reach the forest floor. The pines swayed and whispered, making serene music where you stood with them.

“You’ll need to break away from us first.” Rhys explained, twirling the sword from one hand to the other, testing the balance.

“If you manage to get a necklace from either of us, we’ll delay our pursuit by five minutes.” You looked to the long corded stone at his chest, the color of it nearly black. It shimmered with something, though. Azriels was more straightforward, a deep red jasper that he pulled from beneath his leathers. At the same time, Rhys shook the potion that he’d been determined to show off with. The one you’d jokingly suggested he should get to prevent him cheating in this endavor. It was to keep him from winnowing, apparently.

“I’m taking you both on?” Your voice rose with protest.

“Not yet-” Azriel muttered with a grin.

“Your choice who you’d like to face first.” Rhys said cordially.

You swung the sword, the weight of it unfamiliar and clunky in your hand.

Your eyes narrowed, and you pointed the tip to Rhys. “You’ll be first.”

He squared himself, taking up an expert fighting stance. Once he nodded, you ran at him.

This was only for show. He parried your strike easily, knocking the weapon to the ground beside him. You raised your hands in defense, then shot out at him with your mind - spearing him with the filthiest mental images you’d conjured over the last few months. He stuttered a step, freezing in place with his eyes wide. You struck, ripping the necklace from him and taking off into the trees while Azriel cackled behind you.

+++++++++

The blood was rushing in your ears, your legs singing with the effort of each step. The slickness in your cunt coudln’t be denied. You embraced it, finally able to accept that you did enjoy this. Running from males that would do exactly what they wanted to you. It sent a shiver through you before, but now… Knowing that they wouldn’t bring you true harm - it made you stumble more than a few times.

Rhys had planned this well. He’d taken you to a well of a valley floor, knowing you’d have to climb to get out. It’d give them a better shot at finding you faster. As the trees became thinner, the groundcover got thicker. Ferns and wiry shrubs reached out to whip your pumping arms and tangle in your hair.

You didn’t have to fight through it for long. Their trained breaths were behind you in only a few minutes, but you were determined to make it to the rushing water you heard ahead.

“You wont make it far.” Rhy’s voice bounced off the trees.

You kept running. Their laughing was upon you in moments, and you jolted to a stop before a wide, rushing stream. You’d nearly fallen in, your shoes even soaked with the groundwater that lapped at the shore.

Arms were around your midsection, whipping you around and attempting to trip you to the ground. You stood with wide footing though, and kicked back against the male - struggling against him with a ferocity that he didn’t expect. Rhys grunted, and Azriel was no longer laughing.

They took their roles seriously. It made your stomach flip, a wild - feral smile spreading across your face at Azriel holding a knife before you while he watched you fight against Rhys’s hold. “Stop now and make this easier.” Azriel’s voice was firm, commanding.

Rhys managed to pin your arms behind you, and you found yourself unable to kick back against him without losing what balance you had. Azriel stepped forward, knife extended to rest at your throat. His knckles met your collarbone, just above where that branding mark was. The heat of him sent your body alight even more. Rhys’s scent spiked with arousal and you couldn’t help but grind back against the bulge behind you.

Azriel’s hand went to your trousers pocket, digging in there with a few fingers, slowly, teasingly - cocking his head to the side when your jaw clenched. Rhys was breathing heavily behind you, and not from their run through the forest.

Az pulled the necklace free, and tutted his tongue disapprovingly. “Guess you like being up in that pillory, dont you?” He said teasingly. “Repeat criminals hardly ever change. Perhaps it’d be better if you saw a cell for a time-”

“I have money.” You gasped when Rhys placed something cold around your wrists.

“Stolen money’s no good to those who uphold the law of the night court.” Az drawled, and Rhys breathed a laugh at how true that was. Azriel was the one sent when something was to be dealt with. Rhys’s own personal bounty hunter. Azriel saw the connection being made. In this game, he suddenly became more than just a guard in his role, he was him. He was the Shadowsinger, sent to capture you. His eyes darkened, waiting for you to play along - to tell him exactly what you wanted.

“Are you willing to make a trade?” You panted, straining against whatever Rhys had placed on your wrists. He stood beside you now, holding you by the nape of the neck, his thumb tracing slow circles there - suggesting what was to come? Or playing up the corrupted guard role?

His knife trailed to your breast, pulling the low cut top away from your skin. His eyes went from your breasts to your eyes, and back again.

“I have what I came here for, thief. What more could I bother with from you?” Even with the sharp words, heat coursed through you. His knife pulled at the strap of your top, then let it snap back onto your skin. The scent of arousal was heavy now, thick and encouraging to the growing fire in your belly.

“I offer you myself, should you let me go free after.”

He bit down on a grin, then leaned in close, right beside Rhys when he said “Why would I barter when I can take what I want?”

The knife was gone, both his hands instead going to bend you to his will. One hand pulled you forward at the lower back, the other went straight to cup your pussy through your pants, the heel of his palm grinding down on to you.

A surprised cry came from your lips, but it was consumed by his lips on yours. His tongue was aggressive and immediate, forcing his way into your mouth, tasting you there, as he palmed against your clit. your hips flexed to meet him, and there was another set of hands at your breast, cutting your shirt free.

Rhys should have been appalled with himself. This was disgusting, horrid behavior but-

He couldn’t dispute the way Azriel’s aggression made his cock harden. How her helpless cries and half-attempts at getting away from Az made Rhys want to restrain her even more and force his cock down her throat until she choked on it.

He took a shuddering, uneven breath and reminded himself that this was what she’d wanted.

‘The more aggression the better.’ She’d said with a devious wink when going over safewords and off limits ideas.

So, Rhys took out the back of her knees, forcing her to fall before Azriel. The shadowsinger gripped the back of her head, and forced her face into the front of his pants, grinding his clothed dick over her cheek in a humiliating way. Degrading and so, so fucking hot. Rhys bit his lip at the sight of it. She attempted to pull back, but it only earned a yank of the hair, a warning to behave.

Rhys was out of his clothes quickly, the pine needles beneath his feet hardly registering against the surge of heat that swelled in him. Gods, his cock ached. It was only thanks to the potion he'd taken that there was a chase at all. If it were any less potent he likely would have ended up winnowing right in front of you before you'd crested the hill.

He gave himself a pump, then another before taking over, wrenching her face away from Azriel and pushing his slickened head to her lips. With her hands still bound, she had no defense aside from the way she pursed them together.

“Difficult thing.” Rhys tisked, then pinched her nose shut. She began getting red in the face, and when Azriel was done undressing, she’d run out of breath. Her mouth opened in a gasp, which Rhys quickly took for his own.

The heated wetness around him had a surge of precome leaking from him with eagerness. “Fu-uuck-” He ground out the word, reveling in the perfection of her mouth a moment before pulling out, and fisting a hand in her hair. The sloppy wetness that dripped from her lips only encouraged him more. He shoved her down on him, his head tipping down the back of her throat and making her eyes water. Azriel grunted in approval, his cock twitching and his hips flexing forward Into his palm at the scene.

Azriel’s shadows were a thick, writhing mess around him, waiting to be used for something. He allotted them a task, setting them free upon her legs - to spread them, and to tear through the leggings she wore. Not completely off, but enough so he’d be able to fuck her through them - and to get a taste of the arousal he’d followed the entire run here.

Rhy’s dick was ryhmic enough that you knew when you could take a breath, when you could gulp down enough air to take his next few strokes. What you hadn’t been prepared for, was the way Azriel’s shadows spread you legs, making you completely unable to fight against them, or even stand if you wanted to.

You were fully at their mercy now, and it made you burn with that knowledge. Your pussy clamped around pathetic emptiness, Writhing with want.

Drool fell from your lips in thick rivers mixed with Rhys’s precome. Your senses told you that Azriel was still near, and that there was something cold on your ass, but you couldn’t see anything other than Rhys’s abdomen. He supported you fully, his hands in your hair keeping you from falling forward, but it also kept you blind to everything else. You attempted to lift a leg and kick backwards, but it only made you gag on his cock without the needed support of both legs.

He pulled free after that, glistening trails of spit coating him. Before you could fall forward, a hand was at the tie on your wrists, holding you upright. Rhys nodded, then there was a ripping sound, and the chill on your ass was gone. You sucked in a breath, and there was suddenly a towel before you, and Rhys was sitting. So close you could feel the heat radiating from him, you were lowered and lowered, until your cheek rested against his thigh, staring at his reddedned dick like a worshipper. There was no denying you were.

Azriel’s tongue was hot against your hole - probing, coating you with his spit. You arched, gasping in surprise but there was nowhere you could move, your head rolled to one side, so you could bite down on Rhys’s thigh, but it didn’t keep Azriel from fucking your ass. His tongue darted over it again and again, working you open slowly - your surprised gasps turned into needy moans, the stimulation making you a living fire. You could feel the wetness soaking your leggings, and you wondered how large of a wet spot appeared there.

“Put your mouth to use.” Rhys grunted, his tone almost angry. He lifted your head and guided you to his cock, his ass flexing - gods he needed this, badly. Your mind buzzed with the satisfatiction of it. Though you were bent at their will, you were driving them mad.

Azriel’s managed to work two fingers into your ass before trailing hid tongue downward, using the flat of his tongue against your slickened pussy. His fingers pumped deep, flexing outwards to stretch your hole. It was a sweet thing, tender though the situation did not call for it. They’d given you plenty of toys to train for just this.

He hummed at the taste of you, at the heat and need he could sense building in you. Your pussy clenched around his tongue. “Filthy thing-” He said to himself, the sharp crack of one of his hands landing on your asscheek.

Rhys pulled your mouth from him, and you fell forward, lifting enough so that you could press against his chest instead of his thigh - a small rebellion, you could only do so much now. He shimmied down, so he could be below you and line up with your slick folds. You groaned when his tip pressed eagerly into your slit, rocking back against him as much as you could with your legs as exhausted as they were. Was this the real reason they’d had your starting point be downhill?

The heat of Azriel’s cock joined, also pressing into your pussy. A swell of fear threatened to overtake you, then. There was no way you could take them both-

Rhys sucked in a breath, and he scooted down a bit farther, so your head rested against his collarbone now. His cock pressed at your ass, and your eyes rolled back.

Azriel knew he wouldn’t last long. Not with her being so fucking compliant in this - He forced himself to focus, willing his need to dampen for a moment. He guided Rhys’s cock to the hole he’d worked first, pumping his high lord’s cock with his saliva - coating him with spit before pressing the rounded tip to her hole. The sound she made had his body rolling, uncontrollably thrusting forward into the air like a godsdamned animal.

He now wished he’d taken Rhys’s offer and had the male suck him off earlier in the day.

Rhys blew out a breath as he sunk in, deeper and deeper, until he couldn’t move much more. Only about half of him was fully seated, but it was more than enough. Azriel could tell by now what her desperate signs were for when she was close, and he was glad he wasn’t the only one overstimulated and ready to cum.

“Taking him so fucking good.” He praised in her ear, brushing the hair to one side so he could see her expression. “Gonna fill you up, make you both of ours.” He was muttering, when she rolled her hips and the tip of him brushed her heated folds. His hand cracked across her ass again, drawing a strangled groan from Rhys.

Azriel smirked. He knew how she tightened up when she had her ass smacked. The high lord’s eyes smoldered, and Azriel caught him in a quick, wet kiss before leaning back and taking his own cock into his hand.

He rubbed his tip against your folds, slickening himself. “This is what happens to thieves in the Night Court.” He smiled, then thrust into you in one long, smooth motion. Your body arched, toes curling inside your boots as he bottomed out. Full. So fucking full and still, desire demanded your attention. The fire was not dulling, like it normally did after one of them entered you - no, it seemed to grow even more aggressive. A flame that kept spreading, throughout your thighs and into your belly, the warmth spread and the need of them both - for more made your teeth gnash together.

The thin wall that separated their cocks from each other had you rocking back onto them both, earning what fractions of inches you could. Rhys adjusted, his hips flexing upwards to give you more, but it still wasn’t enough.

Some mental communication passed from him to Rhys, and your arms were free, your shoulders singing in pain as they were wrenched forwards, then re-tied in front of you. Rhys lifted them, then brought your hands around the back of his neck. Still just as trapped as before, only now you could at least support yourself.

It was a blessing. You rocked back into every one of Azriel’s thrusts, earning whispered filth from his lips. The wet sound of your pussy around him filled the forest, along with your breathy moans. Gods, with Rhys so paitenetly nudging into you, and with Azriel fucking you with such ferocity… your muscles quivered, earning hesitation and sharp hisses from them both.

You still had some power, here.

His shaft rubbed with Rhys’s making him even more needy than he’d anticipated. His knot was swelling quickly, every instinct in him yearning to spill inside of her- to lock his knot in place and fuck her through her orgasms upon it.

Watching Rhys’s small thrusts into her ass was not an option. He’d looked down once already and nearly came from the sight of it. So instead he watched the high lord, and the back of her gorgeous hair. He watched the way her body would flex and roll, then squeeze down on them.

His knot was catching already, and Rhys could tell. The high lord glanced from her to the shadowsinger. “Take her, make her come.” He encouraged. The mental image of the three of them appeared, Rhys filling her mouth with Azriel locked inside her pussy.

“Not the plan-” Azriel ground out, forcing his desire to lessen. He focused instead on the sound of the brook that she’d nearly ran into. He wanted to fill her, to fuck her ass and her pussy together until cum dripped from both holes and-

“Azriel - I won’t cum. Not now, anyway. Fuck her right.” The husky words were all his willpower could stand. He grunted, buiting the inside of his cheek and pulled his cock free from the sodden leggings he’d ripped. Her gasp and protest had his ego soaring.

Rhys worked himself free of her ass, and from around her bound arms. He spat in his palm, and began stroking himself, his knot hardly formed. Azriel felt a pang of jealously at the male’s control, the restraint he had.

Without your arms bound, and with their hesitation at what to do next, you took it as an opportunity. You sung your arms around, forming them into fists, and nearly caught Azriel in the head with them - but a thick tentacle of shadow halted you.

He struck an instant later. One hand on your collarbone,he shoved you back onto the pokey forest floor, and you clambored against him. The shadow locked your arms above your head, but it didn’t deter your fight.

You brought your knees to your chest and pushed at him, though he pressed down on you with the mass of his muscle. One hand was all it took to pin you to the floor, you’d make sure he’d have to fight more than that.

“Vicious theif-” He grunted with the knee you threw to his ribs,but it’d been your folly. With his other hand, he brought a leg up so it was flush against his chest, your foot resting beside his ear.. You couldn’t kick him away now, but you didn’t want to. You’d wanted this - wanted the fight, wanted to see what lengths he’d take to get to your pussy.

He hadn’t disappointed. He gripped both your legs and pulled them tight to his chest, raising your ass off the ground. He swiped the tip of his cock over your clit, rubbing deliciously. Your hips rolled. Thankfully, he wasn’t a male of vengeance - not now anyway. He entered you, and resumed the same pace he’d had before. Long, dragging strokes that had your ass clapping against his thighs.

Your folds were tighter in this position, and the stretch it brought seared through you. Your body was capable, but this was a position that had you seeing stars. Your body ached to cum, but you held off. This was supposed to last longer.

Rhys joined, kneeling at your side to dip between your pressed thighs. You pulled at the restraints, testing the shadows above your head. They did not budge. Your walls squeezed him, and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m-” You panted, not wanting to admit that you were close.

“Good. I’m not gonna cum until you do first, sweetheart.” Azriels words rang true, You could feel how much his knot had swollen from your struggle, and a delightful purr of ecstasy filled you. You’d definitely be getting punished more in the future.

Azriel’s cock rammed into you, he flicked his hips forward and up at that perfect angle that he knew would set you off. Your legs shook, wetness dribbling down to your ass with every thrust. “That’s right..” Rhys purred, his fingers leaving your clit to play with himself instead.

You didn’t need his fingers. Not with Azriel fucking you like this, with every stroke brutally pushing into your most sensitive spot- hot white pleasure surged through you. His knot pressed at your entrance, stretching your lips apart with each re-entry.

In this position, your tight heat was already something that had him barely hanging on, and it had him more impatient than he’d ever been. He’d said he wouldn’t cum yet. He couldn’t. So he fucked into you with stokes he knew would have you begging, getting you to the edge in record time. He could tell from the way your cheeks heated, from how red your lips were - and from the deadly way your pussy gripped at the base of his knot. He swore. Every stroke became harder to remain in control.

A scarred hand went to your throat, gently pressing there - control. Control and power and you were nothing but theirs -his- Azriel’s plaything. A fucktoy for him- Your mind spiraled, overtaken by the inferno inside of you.

Your insides spasmed around him, a gush of hot liquid gushing from your pussy. The knife’s edge of pleasure. The precipice of a violent orgasm held you for a moment, then rocked through you. You trembled, pleasure consuming everything, setting your very bones alight with the exquisite orgasm. So intense and burning that your sight was lost from you for the first few moments.

Azriel’s knot came back along with your vision, amplifying the pleasure to an extent you could barely register as you quivered around him, squeezing him tight inside of you. The panting, shuddering breathing, the tight hold he had on your thighs as he spilled into you had you squirming again, your wrecked body contending for another orgasm, even while the waves of your first careened through you.

His cum filled you, hoarse moans falling from his lips as he still fucked into you. The small movements of his swollen knot inside urging that second round of pleasure through you.

Rhys was swearing darkly, his own knot more formed than before now. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Azriel’s hands shook when he parted your legs. You let them fall behind him, knees hooking weakly around him. He lifted your hips and fucked you softly, his knot pulling at your entrance like he knew you enjoyed.

He rode you through six more orgasms before he’d softened enough to pull free. After, Rhys had devoured your sensitive clit, earning double digits before the golden sunset painted the trees a fiery orange.

“We should go soon.” You muttered, breathless with both of them lying at either side of you.

“Shut up.” Rhys said, voice hoarse as he fingered you - slickening your clit with the remnants of Azriel’s cum.

You’d borrowed a coat from Azriel, seeing how they’d torn yours during your frenzied, handsy encounter.

The walk to the nearest town had made your already trembling legs even weaker, but you’d made it without too much whining. Rhys was still unable to winnow, the potion you’d challenged him to take still in his bloodstream.

The first scent of food hit you hard. Your mouth watered at the smell of buttered and fried goods. The gnawing hunger in your gut whined. The way they had you working for them was proving to be a huge calorie deficit, and you were starved.

“Ill find us something subtle.” Azriel said simply, then he was gone - sucked into the shadows that lingered outside the town.

“Let’s get you something nice.” Rhys smiled, his eyes grazing over you with a predator’s insight. Your tights had been something of a display once they were done with you, and the only thing saving you from looking like a hired whore was the length of Azriel’s coat covering your bottom.

“What in the name of the Mother are you wearing?” Azriel’s clipped tone revealed near anger, and your cheeks heated with the eyes that darted towards you.

The place he’d chosen was a busy, dark and shambled thing. Easy to be lost in, perfect for your party. To be expected from the Shadowsinger. What you hadn’t expected was the way his cheeks went bright at the sight of you. The low cut tunic and leather pants weren’t unusual in this area, but them being skin tight drew more than just your partners eyes.

“It was all they had.” You provided simply.

“And doesnt she look delectable?” Rhys encouraged, his eyes barely leaving your body to look to Azriel.

The shadowsinger stood silent, stoic as a statue for a moment before sitting back in the horseshoe shaped booth. You sat between them, at the apex and looked over the menu.

Rhys laughed suddenly, and Azriel snarled. You looked up, to the windows and scanned the crowd. The fae at the table beside the window hid behind their coats and drinks. You looked to Rhys, puzzled.

“He doesn’t like the other males looking.” he explained.”I think it’s admirable. Who could help themselves, with you looking like that?”

“She’s not for them.” Azriel growled, making your stomach flip. The look on his face promised violence.

You reached over, gripping his muscled thigh. “It’s alright.” You promised, circling your fingers low there, tracing the seam of his leathers up and up until he caught your hand in his.

He let out a breath, his head tipping back. The menu in his other hand grew wrinkled marks from where he gripped it. “Easy.” He warned. Rhys grinned, and shifted closer to you.

The criminal in you delighted at his reaction. Once he let go of your hand, you idly browsed the menu, using it as a distraction before pacing your hand back on his leg, inching upwards in small, sneaky motions until resting at his hip, only a few inches away from the buttons of the trousers he wore.

Rhys took your other hand once the server had taken your orders, and was not discreet in the way he placed it directly atop the hardness in his pants. You sucked in a breath, and he didn’t even bother to look at you. You pressed down on him, squeezing him rhythmically. Azriel’s own member responded, twithinching beneath the cloth.

“Greedy, filthy… delectable thing.” Rhys mind-spoke, his tone a purr that had your thighs squeezing together tight.

There was a splash of liquid, the clattering of drinks and cold wetness covered your shoulder, running down your chest. The bar quieted, then picked back up an instant later. You sat up in shock, avoiding the water that covered your seat. The server was apologizing, but you could only hear the muttered swearing coming from Rhys.

His eyes were locked on to your soaked breasts, the heat there immeasurable.

The world turns black and silver in a breath, the table is shattered, knocked to the ground outside your booth and Rhys is before you, his head going to your top and palming the fabric, hid tongue going to the lap at the wetness on your skin st your breast.

Your breasts fall out of the top easily as Rhys unlaces the front. There are gasps, the sound of chairs being moved and laughs all around. None of it matters. Rhys’s hot mouth is the only thing your mind can narrow in on.

The servers’ apologies go silent, and there is a low rumbling of voices and shouts that you can pay no attention to, not as Azriel is gripping the back of your head and forcing his tongue into your mouth. His tongue goes from slow and tender to quick and demanding, forcing your own tongue to still in your mouth as he explores.

The pleasure of Rhys’s mouth on your nipples is something that has your weakend legs shaking. Once the laces are loosened, he pulls the top up over your head, his eyes wild with need as he consumes you in his own hot, desperate kiss that has you rolling your body into his.

Azriel is gone for a moment, and Rhys is turning you, pushing you back until your legs hit something solid - the window table. When you open your eyes, the crowd that had been closest is now watching you, hungry looks in their eyes.

The fear and shame gripped you for a moment, and you covered your chest. “Rhys we should-”

“They’ll deal with it.” He growled. “Most of them enjoy this kind of entertainment, they’re lucky we’re not changing them. Consider it a donation.” He said in that high lord’s arrogant voice that you’ve come to know.

The curtains fall over the fogged windows,, opaque and filled with holes, smelling of dust and stained. While Rhys consumes you in another kiss, Azriel appears at your side again, his face flushed. His hands are on your thighs, petting you, rubbing his hands across the too-tight trousers and fisting a hand in the cloth. He guides you to sit atop the table, where Rhys kneels before you.

His fingers hook around the belt loops of the pants. “Off, this time.” He commands, his tone giving no room for debate. You comply, using his shoulders to lift yourself off the table enough to let them see you - to let the entire bar see you fully.

Azriel is stripping off as well, unashamed by the looks the strangers give him. None of them bad, mostly admiring. Some of the crowd even begin touching themselves, rubbing and stroking over their clothes as Rhys takes his first lick of you.

His tongue moves slowly, and thoroughly on your clit - lapping at you with a tenderness that had your mind going to a much more leisurely place. He rolls, flicks and kisses there like a male without another purpose. He has you arching up, grinding to him within only a few minutes.

Azriel strokes himself at the same pace as Rhysand’s movements, the two of them matching pace like they weren’t surrounded by others watching. You turn your head to take Azriel into your mouth, but he denys you this. He takes your hand instead, having you stroke him while he watches the crowd. In part, he’s looking for threats, any that would dare to interrupt them - another part because he enjoyed the way the strangers stared, desire and envy filling their gazes.

Rhys’s fingers enter you, then pause, he plays with you at the entrance, noting what movements make you squirm and buck. He loves this. He revels in these moments where his patience isn’t worn so thin. He doesn’t want to have you fully on display, though. Not now. He’d rather have you screaming for him on his own bed.

So he thrusts his fingers deep inside you and curls them, angling in that spot that Azriel is able to brush against with the tip of his cock - but it’s never this firm. It’s never as intense and mind-splitting as either of their fingers are. It ignites a new flurry of need inside of you so quickly, and they know it. It forces you from being moderately turned on to nearly cumming in their hands in moments, and knowing that, they abuse it.

They flick at that spot with brutal efficiency, knowing exactly when to stop because your legs begin to shake with the force of the beginning of the orgasm they build. They’re cruel brutes, but you’d never had better sex. Maybe having someone brutal was a requirement after being with them. If you’d ever need anyone else.

He pulls his fingers out, and puts them to your lips, your wetness tart and sweet against your tongue.. You take them greedily, sucking them clean and playing with his fingers just how you would their cocks. It always drives them mad, and you know it. Unstable heat courses through your body, your legs trembling, hooking around Rhys’ hips with the urging, pulsing demands of an orgasm.

But he holds his fingers there in your mouth, pinning your mouth open, and nods to Azriel. He steps closer, and slides his cock into your mouth while Rhys restraints you open.

The order is clear enough, and you don’t attempt to close your lips around the shadowsinger. Control. Rhys and Azriel are always battling for control in their own ways. Something about it turns all of you on so incredibly - the proof of the fact apparent in the taste of Azriel’s thick precome. The tip of his cock rubs against the back of your tongue a few times, coating him with your spit, and Rhys finally relents and allows your jaw free from his grasp. You take Azriel into your mouth, moaning at the sensation - the weight of him there.

Rhys nudges into your pussy while you’re sucking Azriel, and there’s distant curses and hisses of pleasure. Coats fall to the floor, and you’re pretty sure you hear others moaning as they begin fucking as well.

Azriel pulls away, leaving dribble on your mouth when he does. He steps back and gets atop the table behind you, his cock hanging heavy right above your head.

Your legs pull Rhys in much faster than he was intending on, and because of this, his eyes go wide, his lips pull back from his teeth in a growl. He holds down your hip with a hard, bruising hand while his other goes to your neck - pinning you in place. “You’re mine, and I’ll take you how I please.” He growls out, leaning down to say it right into your ear.

Your body melts, relaxing fully to his control - to the demands he’s placed. A part of you wants to rebel, to kick at him and see just how far he’d take this, but the other part of you says that he’d likely not let you cum if you questioned him now. Not in front of these people. Even if they didn’t realise that he was their high lord, he would not be undermined in this moment.

“Yes sir.” You said voice strained around his light hold, giving him a coy grin when he pulled away to look at your face.

His cock surged, tipping up inside you and making your hips roll as much as they could. You wanted to fold your legs together, to have him fuck you how Azriel did earlier because this - this was too much restraint, too much easy and slow fucking for what your desire reqired.

Your insides were soaked, gushing with need and he was here taking you as if you were his bride. You whined low in your throat, wanting to squirm and have him fuck you.

You close your eyes, no matter how much you love seeing Azriel above you, all the movement from the crowd is growing distracting and you need to focus on feeling. The way Rhys’s cock slides in and out of you with perfect, wet slaps. The way he pulls out to the tip, solid and heavy and teasing at your entrance, before slipping right back in. The crowd echos your moans, growing louder with each thrust.

Rhys feels Like a god in this position. He pounds into her so sweetly that it barely rocks the table. The feral sounds she's making are a symphony of yearning and hunger. He can't stand the slow pace, his knot is already halfway engorged and he has little patience left for the power game he plays.

He slides you down off the table, leaving your hips supported only by the strength of his hands. You curl your legs around him, pulling him in deeper and -gods, a shocked gasp leaves you at the size of his knot as your movement forces it in and deep. He angles his hips foward, and his control is gone. He pulls out, and shoves back in in quick, wild thrusts. You cry out, hands reaching for anything to grip on to while a pre-orgasm hits you, making your walls quiver around him in strange pulses.

You reach for the edge of the table, but Azriel’s hand catches yours instead. He twines his fingers through yours, never backing down from the way you squeezed his hand tight. “As much as I want to hear you…” He mutters, then his cock is at your lips, and you suck at him greedily, moaning around his length and gripping his thigh with your free hand. Your nails bite into his skin there, but it only heightens his pleasure.

Your heels spur Rhys on, and in his fervor he knows hes losing control. He also knows that he still can’t winnow, and that he’s about to cum and lock you together with him so tightly that you wont be able to leave for a long while after this. He knows he should stop, that he should at the very least pull out to cum on you.

But all the knowledge in the world couldn’t keep him from being a worshiper to your body - to this blessed pussy and glorious mouth and- His knot locks in place, and he has only a few more shallow thrusts within the range of his motion before he’s seeing nothing, feeling nothing but the hot pressure of his release and the pussy clamping on his cock, milking the orgasm from him. The tension finally released, and the rest coming like waves off of a mountainside.

Your body convulses, hips bucking forward and writhing on Rhys’s knot the moment it settles deep inside you. He’s bowing his head, hunching forward and rocking into you as much as he can and Azriel pulls free from your mouth, his own knot getting too wide for your mouth towards the end.

Then, you feel the dribbling heat of Rhys’s cum spilling inside you, and something inside your own body responds with eager pride and takes a hold of you. Your body is twitching around him, taking his cock and squeezing it so tightly that it has your entrance stretching almost painfully. You’re building up to an immense release when Azriel’s swearing, then cumming on your neck and chest, thick streams of it landing even at your hipbone. Rhys is there quickly, lapping at the spots of it on your breast.

White molten heat explodes inside you, your orgasm pulsing through every vein, tendon - you can practically feeling it hum your very bones. You’ve been flung from a precipice you didn’t realise how hard you held on to. You were in freefall, and hitting every single cloud of mind-rocking pleasure was possible.

His member doesn’t soften, doesn’t relent during your waves of ecstasy. He fucks into you as much as he can, re gripping your hips in his hands and rolling forward, his own body shaking. His mouth goes from Azriel’s cum to your nipple, biting there, rolling the peak with his tongue. The stimulation is overwhelming, and you dig your fingers into his back.

“Fucking incredible.” one of them sighs. You can’t tell who, everything is distant and fuzzy as the waves of orgasm pummel you.

You’re exhausted by the time they recede, and by then Azriel has pulled on a pair of pants and has been petting your hair for some amount of time.

A male approaches from the crowd, holding his cock that jutted through the seam of his trousers. He’s handsome, and smiles at you hungirly. “I’ll take her next.” He says, confidence radatinging out of him.

Azriel’s eyes go wide, and he stands to face off with the male. There is clearly challenge in his poise, but the male seems to pay no mind. “Or I’ll take you. Either way-”

Azriel has a wicked shadow, curved like a knife in his hand in the next breath. “You will die b-”

Rhys groans, and pulls a blanket of darkness over the three of you, and you’re falling upon the familiar bedspread of the townhome. The smells are comforting, homey and make sleep impossible to avoid.

“Don't-” Rhys pants softly, his knot still swollen and throbbing inside of you. “Threaten someone when I can’t even get my dick free.” He lays his head on your chest, pulling Azriel down to lay with the two of you.

A warmth radiates on your lower abdomen a few minutes later. When you go to protest another round of sex, you find that it's Azriel, gently massaging the oil from the healer into your skin.

#acotar fic #azriel x reader #reader x azriel #reader insert #reader x rhysand #rhysand x reader #reader x rhys #rhys x reader #abo fic #abo themes #abo #alpha beta omega #alpha beta omega fic #alpha beta omega themes #rhysand #azriel #shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #a court of thorns fic

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grandline-fics · 4 months

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Ohhhh i really really really like your writing, it’s so very good!! Could i request some fluff with zoro? I was thinking about the reader being an artist, and he finds her sketchbook and is impressed by her art, and then he finds drawings of the crew and him. Or something like that, you can definitely change the idea. Thank you very much, i hope you have a good day/night!

DESCRIPTION: You’re an artist and he asks to see your sketchbook

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 680

A/N: Thank you for the request! I've been feeling a bit of writer's block creeping up but hopefully you like what I came up with.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

“You’re going to hurt your back if you keep hunching over like that.” Zoro told you as he looked over his shoulder to fix you with a meaningful look, amused to see you snap out of your trance to look up in surprise. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded you to sit up properly, you still ended up in this kind of position when you were intensely set on drawing in the sketchbook that was rarely far from your reach. He didn’t miss how your hand instinctively curled over the pages currently being worked on, protecting them from view but also using practiced care to avoid smudging the drawings.

Zoro couldn’t help but note you were more protective of your sketchbook around him than you would be with the rest of the crew. Yes, you still would shield it initially from view but if asked you would reveal what you were currently working on. With him? You never showed it unless it was finished products on a canvas. Silently he wondered why he was different. Though he supposed he wasn’t one to ask outright compared to the likes of Luffy who was impulsive and excitable, Sanji, who gushed over the slightest thing, and even Robin who was naturally curious about art and anything intellectual. Compared to them, Zoro never felt the need to ask even when he did want to see your talent. “Can I see?” he asked.

You tensed in surprise and quickly let your gaze flicker to the sketchbook and back to his face. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to see, it was just you weren’t sure how he would react. Hesitantly you pulled your hand away and let the pages be revealed to him. Zoro stepped closer and lifted the book into his hands, he’d seen how you held it enough times to know the proper way to treat it without ruining any of your hard work. Slowly he started at the beginning, taking in scenes you’d drawn from previous adventures on different islands.

Some pages held detailed studies of plants and landscapes, each bringing out a memory for him, whether it of a vague feeling of relaxation or a stronger emotion as he recalled the hard won fights they’d engaged on. Most of the pages however he knew had been taken from some place on the Sunny, the focus being some, if not all of the crew. It didn’t take him long to notice that he seemed to feature more heavily than the others. He would be lying if he didn’t feel some sort of satisfaction at that.

For the first time since you’d let him look at the very thing you were most precious about he lifted his gaze to see you were purposely looking away from him. “It’s not like you to be insecure, you’re talented. Why are you so nervous?” He asked, pretending to be oblivious. Part of him hoped you’d give him an answer he’d been hoping on. Zoro watched you lightly chew on your bottom lip as you tried to form an answer. Finally you cleared your throat.

“I’m not insecure about my skill…” You began simply, slowly building the nerve to look at the swordsman while also trying to stop the growing blush on your face. “It’s just I don’t want you to think I’m stalking you or anything, I know I’ve drawn you a lot.”

“You have?” Zoro couldn’t help the teasing tone creeping into his voice as he looked down at one page in particular that was a study of him training with his swords. “Hadn’t noticed.”

”Oh shut up!” You grumbled lightly, taking the sketchbook back into your hold. “It’s not my fault I can only draw things that interest me. It’s just how I am.” Quickly you clamped your mouth shut, the blush burning on your skin stronger now as Zoro grinned down at you, looking even more pleased with himself. He only wished he’d asked to see your sketchbook sooner had he known this was what he was going to get.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #one piece fanfiction #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #one piece scenario #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x y/n

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luffyvace · 3 months

Text

☆♪Ace x childhood best friend reader (who he has a crush on)☆♪

I’m trying to make my titles more appealing and fun to look at hopefully it’s working~!

(still not bothering with aesthetics this is something i personally wanna do)

For the record these are gender neutral so no worries

How y’all met? I’m not gonna go into specifics but you likely went into his territory

unless you met on one of his trips to the city for food n such

those three brothers are close and two didn’t trust easily back then

But once you make it in they’re circle there’s no backing down

from then on you always go to play with them and go on adventures together

they decided to keep you as a friend rather than a sibling

(back to present)~

ace honestly loves you because you accepted him, your cool, your (likely) strong whether that’s mentally or physically and most of all you’ve stuck by his side all this time

even him and luffy went they’re separate ways to become pirates

but you? You two met and have never separated since

you’ve literally kept your promise not to leave unlike no other

your always there

finally he has someone in his corner

and someone as cool as you?? How could he not fall in love 😍😍

Really he figured it out while just spacing out one day real early

like early enough to see the sunrise

he was just staring off, scouting just in case, although his mind was mostly on you

he laughed to himself thinking about memories of you two

and even more so that your still here

he noticed how nervous he now was to talk to you when you got up

he had a funny feeling in his stomach, his hands/breathing was jittery and he kept running his hand through his hair, trying to fight a smile

he was so incredibly nervous yet excited to see you!!

but why?! Today’s an ordinary day!

what is he some kind of love sick puppy?!…

lovesick?

LOVE???

WAIT WHAT THE CRAP HE NEVER CONSIDERED THAT!!

wait….no way, right?? He’s in love??

bro WHAT?! HE’S IN LOVE??

he’s..in love with (name)

wow…all this time he never even thought of that

NOW HE REALIZES HOW FLIRTY HE’S BEEN WITH YOU?!

it wasn’t even intentional!!

and now that he realizes it…….he always has the funny feeling every time he talks to you!

and his heart spikes when you call him!

bro…..wow.

*sits there in realization for the next hour*

how he acts when he has a crush:

Honestly he’s just trying to impress you and make you happy in every way

he acts chivalrous, paying for all the diners you stop at, opening doors, pulling out chairs, reminding you of things, grabbing your coat, doing you favors (ones you didn’t ask for but appreciate)

yes this is all very cliche and cheesy but you can’t go wrong with that right??

I mean…does it look like he knows how to love?! 😀

he never met either of his parents!! 😬🤦‍♀️

bro is trying his best okay?? 🤷‍♀️

he playfully shows off

he does it in a way that’s not annoying too, it doesn’t feel like he’s bragging when he does it

”hurrrr look at my big musclessss! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ”

LOLLL

he does it in a way that makes you laugh so it seems more like a joke

he gets you meaningful trinkets and stuff he remembers you like/said your wanted

when you two join the WBP

he also asks Marco and Izo for advice on how to act around you (just act normal bro)

as well as whitebeard!!

Thatch too

he rambled to literally everyone except you about you

then he has to beg and do favors for them not to tell you all the cheesy/embarrassing things he says

goodness Ace 🤦‍♀️

he goes around like a love sick puppy for a few weeks ranting about you and celebrating about becoming a man (😂💗)

but then when Marco asks when he’s gonna ask you out….

Ace FREAKS out.

like he literally forgot about that part-

IS IT TOO LATE?! DID YOU ALREADY FIND ANOTHER MAN??-

wait you two are childhood best friends you would’ve told him 🤨

oh.

okay well great!-

now……how does he confess?🧍‍♀️

seriously he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know what to say, do or give you

OR where to do it OR when OR if he’s even good enough OR if you won’t like him..

WAIT WHAT IF HE’S NOT A GOOD ENOUGH BOYFRIEND?!

wait..WHAT IF YOU DON’T LOVE HIM BACK⁉️

He’s feels like giving up already😞

theres so many women/men in the world why would you want some lost parentless pirate who questions his existence…

now when he goes to Marco and says all that he just laughs at him and calls him emo 😊

no but in all seriousness he brings Ace back to his senses and reminds him about what if you DO love him back 😏

😮🤩🤩

he forgot all about that!- (😀)

WAIT WHAT IF YOU DO LIKE HIM BACK!!

THIS IS SO EXCITING!!

him and Marco run to find izo and have a bro meeting immediately

which happens and the three immediately start planning the confession >:3

they put they’re heads together to conjure something they know you’d like but doesn’t seem too sappy

his confession !! 🤩

the next time the ship stops at an island he takes you to a calm beach area where you relax and have some fun all day

your nakama are around but it mostly just seem like the world is just you and Ace right now

midday is when Ace strikes!

this was izo’s idea

no! it’s not because if he had to wait the next day to interact with you as his girlfriend he wouldn’t get any sleep >:(

Ace brought the topic to your childhood past together as you ate lunch and at some point you didn’t notice he transitioned to how he feels about you and how much he cares about you and that it would be everything to him if you became his girlfriend.

now it’s your turn to ‘WAIT WHAT’ :)

that was so smooth!

you didn’t even notice he was trying to confess until the end!

Wow did that surprise you!

at least your muscles were still working so that you could nod your head because you certainly didn’t know what to say!

____________「what do you say?」____________

____________Yes. No.____________ ＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ (mini bonus): if you aspired to be a pirate, simply don’t mind or would like to support his dream, you joined the spade pirates! (Which obviously gets consumed into the whitebeard pirates, but hey your captain made the decision so you don’t mind). If your strong he’ll make you vice captain since your his first ever nakama. <3 otherwise you might be the navigator, medic or something else your good at! Likely not something that puts you in immediate danger though. He worries about the ones he loves leaving him too much for that.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED LOVLIES !! 🦋🦋

I need to write about ace more but I also needs get past the impel down arc but I also don’t (spoiler) wanna watch his death but I also wanna see more of his backstory and finish one piece and- ｡.:*｡.:*💥 _:(´o`」 ∠): …… d(￣￣) - I’m good

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samiswifey · 4 months

Text

Christmas With Her

Paring: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: set in the same universe as my Back To You au. It's your first Christmas back in the city and Sam decided to go all out for your short visit back

Getting the news that you were coming back for Christmas Sam quickly decided that she had to make this the best Christmas ever! She knew how important Christmas was to you and you coming back was a big deal that she started putting up decorations to make the apartment a little more festive for your arrival. She knew the Christmas before she left wasn't your best and she has always had it in the back of her mind that she wanted to make that up to you. Now was her chance.

"Sam, don't you think this is too much," Tara motioned to the decorations that covered the house. "She's only here for three days." She said pointedly.

The short time you were here made Sam frown but she covered it back with a smile. "Yes it's only three days but I still want those three days to be the best for her." She said. "Christmas hasn't always been easy for Y/N and I want to make this one the best."

Driving into the city you couldn't help but completely relax at the realization of finally being here. It wasn't a super long drive back but it was long enough for you to be tired and ready for a nap. However this also fueled your excitement for seeing Sam again. Yes you guys call and FaceTime but that's so much different from actually seeing her in person again. She's also the only reason why you're even excited about this holiday and that definitely has to count for something.

Driving for the last few hours you should have been exhausted but the minute you pulled into the parking lot of the familiar apartment complex you felt all the sleep exist your body and you just felt more awake then ever right now.

Stepping out of your car you held a two bags filled with gifts as you made your way up to the door and knocked twice. It wasn't even thirty seconds before the door opens and your pulled into a bear hug by Sam. She said nothing as she repeatedly kissed your face. You giggled but let her continue until she decided to stop on her own.

"Sam stop eating her face and let Y/N come in." Tara teased.

Sam giggled but let you go to walk inside. Your eyes grew wide when you saw how decorated the small apartment was. The decorations were super fancy but they were lovely and they reminded you of home before everything went bad. It was beautiful.

"Oh Sam the apartment looks beautiful! I wish I could have been here to decorate." You said awestruck.

Sam moves next to you and holds your hand. "Hopefully next year we'll be together and then we can decorate together." She said. You smiled at her when she said. "I would absolutely love that."

With this being the first time you guys have seen each other physically in two months you and Sam decided to enjoy each other's company to the fullest. You were both cuddled on the couch with your fingers locked together as you and Sam made small talk on the couch. The conversation wasn't deep but it was meaningful to you. You liked these kinds of conversations because it showed you a more fun side to Sam. She is usually so serious so when you two just got to cuddle and talk about random things you definitely cherished them.

"So what do you do on Christmas morning? Like what's your perfect day?" Sam asked.

You smiled as you thought about it. "We wake up early to make breakfast and we eat together while watching those cheesy Christmas movies," you laughed. "Then we open gifts! All while singing Christmas songs - you'll hate it at first but you'll soon find yourself loving it because you're having so much. Then we eat dinner together and spend the rest of the day just enjoying our time together." You told her. "It would be perfect."

Sam saw the look of excitement in your eyes and she knew that she was about to make this Christmas perfect for you. She, in her mind, still felt like she needs to make it up to you. Like she has to keep fixing what she broke all those years ago. She wants to show you that your relationship is serious to her and that she truly does love you. This relationship is not one sided and she hopes that making this the best Christmas ever can show you that. She has to make tomorrow perfect

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up very early Sam slowly climbed out of bed and tip toed to the kitchen to make sure she had everything she needs to make French toast. She knew it was your favorite when you were kids so she's really hoping that that's still true because she would feel horrible if she got it wrong. That would be a sucky way to start Christmas.

"Sam what are you doing up so early?" Tara asked as she steps into the kitchen.

Sam continued checking ingredients that she had. "Making sure I have everything to make French toast with." She muttered out. Tara was confused by that. "But you hate French toast." She comments. "Why would you want to make it for breakfast?" She asked.

Sam smiled to herself when she thought about you. "Y/N loves it and I want to start Christmas Day with her favorite breakfast. So I really need to make sure I have everything to make it the way she loves." She explains. "It has to be perfect."

Waking up you frowned when you noticed that Sam was not next to you. Sitting up you slowly got out of bed and made your way out of the room. The smell of French toast hit your nose and you smiled as you walked toward the kitchen. You didn't say anything as you watched Sam cook breakfast while singing to herself. You smiled when you remembered that she used to do that back when you were kids. You have always loved Sam's voice and that's something that will never change.

"Baby?"

Sam turns around to smile at you. "Baby I'm so glad you're up! Breakfast will be ready soon." She said. You walked up behind her and gently wrapped your arms around her as you watched her cook. This was something that you used to do a lot before Christina caught you and it forced you to stop showing affection to Sam in public because you didn't want Sam to face her mother's fury again. However now things are different and you can show her all the love and affection you want without being scolded.

"I never asked, but is French toast still your favorite?" Sam asked.

You nodded as you moved to stand next to her. "It's the only good memory I have from my childhood. Us eating French toast together on the weekend. Watching whatever random thing was on TV." You said. Sam laughed "remember when we came across that really bad shark movie! We both wanted to change the channel but it was so ridiculously bad that we kind of got stuck watching it to see how it ended." She said. You laughed loudly at the memory. "Yes! Oh it was so bad that I can't believe it went on to have five sequels!" You exclaimed. Sam shook her head. "They were so bad."

Once breakfast was done you and Sam sat at the table with Tara and the twins there bickering about some new horror movie that had come out. Neither you or Sam really cared for horror movies but you found the conversation interesting considering how heated debates between Tara and Mindy got.

"I don't agree that all B horror movies are bad movies. There are a lot of good ones out there." Tara said.

Mindy scoffs "yeah, like a handful! Most of them are poorly written torture films with little to no plot to keep the film interesting." She argues. This caused them to argue over which movies were actually good and which ones were just had great kills but a terrible story. This conversation was never ending.

The afternoon came fast and you were all sitting around getting ready to open presents. The gifts you got from Tara and the twins were amazing. Yes Mindy gave you joke socks but you absolutely loved them. Chad gave you a coffee maker since yours broke last month and Tara got you three new journals because she knows how much you love to write. The gifts were amazing and you were happy that they loved everything you got them.

Sam sat a little off to the side with one gift in her hand because it was the only one she had to save up for. Her heart was beating fast in her chest as she slowly moves closer to you. "It's not much but I saw it one day when I was out and it reminded me of you so I saved up and was finally able to get it last week." She said quickly. "I really hope you like it."

You smiled as you took her gift and slowly unwrapped it. You gasped when you saw the raindrop diamond that you had when you were younger. Your grandma gave you hers and you absolutely loved it. You wore it everyday until your mom stole it from you and pawned it for money to give to her boyfriend. It was nearly identical to your original one.

"Baby... I love it. It's so beautiful." You said as you leaned in to kiss her. "Thank you."

Sam smiles as she helps you put it on. She was so happy that you liked it because she was extremely worried that you'd hate it, but you didn't and that made her completely relax.

"I hope you guys don't mind but I went all out on getting you guys gifts. I wanted our first Christmas together to be special." You said softly.

Everyone pulled you into a group hug and told you that it would have been perfect no matter what. You being here with them was what was making it special and that had you smiling like a fool at that. It really warmed your heart at how welcoming everyone was. It was amazing.

Spending the last few hours cooking you have never laughed as much in your life as you did today. The last few years you were completely dreading the holiday but this year, spending it with them, had you excited to see what next year bought you.

"Baby do you remember that recipe for that cake you used to love?" Sam asked. "Tara wanted to make it because we have everything here but she just needs the recipe," she adds.

You thought for a moment as you tried to remember everything that your grandma used to put in. It was a fairly simple cake but she did things a certain way and that's what you needed to remember.

"I know everything but she did things a certain way and that's what makes this cake so special." You said as you walked away with Tara behind you.

Sitting on the couch you and Tara looked through one of your notebooks with recipes from your grandma. They were everything you used to love eating that she would make for you. It was bringing back memories of you with your grandma in the kitchen cooking some meal that she thought up. It was always an incredible time when you were with her and just the thoughts alone made you smile.

It made Sam smile at how easily you could make everyone around you happy. It was the thing she loves the most about you because whenever she's been upset you were always there to make her smile and just cheer her up. Even when things fell apart you were there making her laugh and forget for just a moment. She'll never be able to repay you for everything you did for her. She is forever grateful for you.

Sitting around the table there was nothing but happiness and laughter as you and the core four shared stories. Yes some were embarrassing but that's what made them the more fun to share. Dinner was delicious and very well made. Sam kept glancing at you and smiling as she kept your hands locked together.

You could tell that Sam was the most happy she's been in a while and it was an honor to you that you were able to be apart of why she was so happy right now. It made your heart swell to see Sam happy and you would do anything to keep her smiling forever.

With the night winding down you and Sam snuck off to the bedroom for some alone time together. You both sat on her bed as she held another small gift in her hands.

"I wanted to wait until we were alone to give this one to you." She said softly. "It's something that only you and I will know the meaning behind."

You kissed her softly before pulling away to open the gift. Your eyes grew wide when you saw the silver bracelet with your name and Sam's name on it. "Did you recreate our friendship bracelets from when we were kids?" You asked. "Sam that is so sweet!"

You leaned forward and kissed Sam again. This kiss was deeper and much more passionate then the last few you've shared today. Sam could feel the love you were pouring into the kiss and she gave you back the same amount. It was a kiss that told you both everything you needed to know. Your love was real and you both were excited to see where the future takes you. Today was perfect and filled with memories that neither of you could wait to share with your future family. Although Sam was very nervous things turned out way better than she could have hoped for and it filled her heart with happiness to know that your first Christmas with her was absolutely perfect. It was incredible.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin

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mylovelies-docx · 6 months

Text

Sorry, I Love You - Part 12

I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for this.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst (!!!), murder, blood, guns, violence, death.

(I PROMISE EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! You've just gotta trust me.)

Word Count: 2,724

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

He can’t take the silence any longer. You should have been home hours ago.

All his texts go unanswered and his calls go straight to voicemail. You’ve had late nights at the HYDRA base, but never this late – never an early morning kind of late.

He knows you’re capable. Knows that you’re one of the strongest people, the best agent, the best everything, but something doesn’t feel right. He can’t feel you. He knows that’s stupid – that he isn’t psychic or empathic or whatever he’d need to be to feel someone’s presence when they’re not in the room with him, but he’s always felt you.

He can feel you down in his bones, his body unable to forget your voice, your laugh, your smell, your body beside, on, under his own. There’s no one in this universe that he knows better, that knows him better, than anyone else.

Used to know. Until he fucked it up. Until he fucked everything up and drove you away. Drove you so far away that you weren’t even on the same continent for months, that you never picked up the phone and called him, that you didn’t send any silly texts at 2 am like you used to. He was too embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction to contact you first. He thought it’d be too impersonal to apologize over the phone and admit how scared he was when you confessed to loving him and how sorry he is for what he did afterwards.

That’s why he sent Steve and Sam to bring you home: so that he could see you again and explain himself to you and hopefully confess that, yes of course he loves you too. He was so nervous as he watched the quinjet approach, worried that you wouldn’t like his outfit, or the stubble on his jaw, or his new haircut that he got for you because he remembered how often you’d run your fingers through it and comment on how hot you thought shorter hair would look on him.

But then he cornered you in that hallway. Felt his heart break as you told him that you got over him, that you didn’t love him anymore and never did in any meaningful way. You assured him that you could be friends again if that’s what he wanted.

Of course that’s what he wanted. Of course he wanted to be friends. But he also wanted everything else – what you had before that night at the movies and what you could have had after. He wanted the date nights, and forehead kisses, and hand holding. He wanted the quick fucks, and makeout sessions, and love-making. He wanted all of it with you.

He still does.

But you don’t.

He will forever regret the words he said to you that drove you away and dissolved the love that you felt for him. He will never forgive himself for taking away your future together. And after that disastrous conversation with you about Petre, he feels like he’s gone right back to square one. He doesn’t know what to do with his emotions and can’t express himself properly to save his life.

He knows what you said, knows the meaning behind the individual words you spoke to him last night: that you and Petre are not together in any way. But Bucky knows that isn’t what Petre wants – knows that Petre wants you in a way that Bucky used to have you, that Bucky could have had you, and more. Because Bucky sees the way that Petre looks at you, the way his eyes follow you around the room as you say hello and chat with his family when they’re around.

Knows that Petre has already asked his mother if she knew of anything else about you before he moved forward with a proposal, if there was somewhere specific he should do it, what else to bring besides his grandmother’s ring. Petre had been across the room with Tessa during this conversation, but Bucky’s serum-enhanced hearing picked it up and he knew that Petre was head-over-heels for you because how could he not be?

He’ll also never forgive himself if something happened to you at HYDRA. Your argument from last night has been lingering between the two of you, and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it – it’s just the actual process and action of initiating that conversation and exposing his squishy insides to you that causes his brain to shut down and his mouth to spew out stupid shit. He knows that you would never turn him away for being vulnerable, but just the way he’s acted when feelings have come up… it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he’s sure it’s left one in yours as well.

But you were supposed to call him at lunchtime and he would have said everything he’s been bottling up right then and there. Would have blurted it out because god damn him and his stupid mouth because every time he’s tried to bring it up, he’s fucked up and he hurt you. He doesn’t want to – can’t do that to you again. If you had just called when you said you would, it would have all been cleared up by now and you’d be home and hopefully in his arms and, and, and.

But you didn’t call. You’re not home. Bucky hasn’t apologized.

He’s already called Steve and requested backup – he’d rather be safe than sorry. Now all he’s waiting on is –

His phone that he’d left faceup on the countertop before him beeps and the screen flashes with a notification. Tony finally sent the link to track your location, letting him know where you’re at. Before his heart can even beat again, another message scrolls across the top of his screen.

That’s all Bucky needs before he races out the door, not even bothering to grab a coat before the door slams behind him. Tony’s second message burns behind Bucky’s eyes and makes it hard to think.

Hurry. Something’s not right…

***

The ATV Bucky ‘borrowed’ off one of the neighbors is perfectly capable of getting someone where they’re going, but Bucky grew frustrated with the speed as soon as he raced away with it. He’d have been happier on his souped-up motorcycle, roaring down the roads and sending gravel flying, but it’d be impractical on the freshly fallen snow and hilly terrain.

His heart stutters in his chest every time he looks down at your tracker’s location and doesn't see it moving. There’s no way you’d be sitting idly in one spot deep in the forest, nearly 20 miles away from the HYDRA base and the house you’ve been sharing with Bucky. The home the two of you have made since arriving.

He thinks of how the two of you should be at the house now - fast asleep, maybe in the same bed if he’d found the right words to tell you what’s been going on in his head, why he was being such a asshole yesterday and how he never should have said any of the shit he did – or at least phrased it better, correctly.

Every time Bucky remembers your fight last night, he feels the air leave his lungs and a fist form in his throat. The way your face had crumpled when he said you could be together again but then immediately shifted into a flat stare, no emotion evident when you told him that he was the reason that could never happen. Your broken voice when he tried to approach you again when he followed you home. The wrenching, muffled sobs he could hear you trying to smother across the hall as he laid there wide awake, his own tears soaking the pillow.

If Bucky could turn back time, he never would have asked you to be friends-with-benefits. His emotions were all over the place and he was still relishing his freedom, his autonomy that had been returned to him. He didn’t think he wanted any kind of committed relationship back then because he thought it would suffocate him, make him feel like he wasn’t his own person anymore, that there was someone that he had to answer to again.

He should have known that you wouldn’t have made him feel that way – that you are the exception to every rule and that you always helped build him up, never once did anything that made him feel suffocated or out of control. He’d been the one to initiate your friendship, he’d been the one that sought you out for no-strings-attached sex. You’d only ever been there for him, followed him when he needed to get away from the others, listened when he needed to talk to someone. Loved him when he didn’t want to be loved.

And what did he do with that love? He threw it away, crushed it under the sole of his boot in that alley way, let you walk away from his life when you should have worked it out together.

When he’d finally gotten his head out of his ass and realized that all the late nights, deep conversations, the comfort and warmth he felt in your presence: that was love. He didn’t recognize it at the time, but he knew that you were important to him, that you were the only one he could spend so much time with and not become overwhelmed. It took you leaving for him to realize everything that you did for him, all the support you offered.

He spent a lot of time with his therapist after that. He used to be so angry at you and he knew it was unfair, that it wasn’t logical to be so mad at someone for falling in love, but he was. His therapist listened to his deepest, darkest, most wretched feelings about you, about himself. They helped him to realize that he wasn’t mad at you, that he was only frightened of the love you had for him and the feelings that brought up in him. He didn’t realize he found himself so unlovable and broken that he didn’t think anyone could love him like that. Could love him like you do.

Did. Love him like you did until he ruined that love like he always knew he would, deep down. It took a lot of time and effort, but he finally understands what he feels for you.

But now it might be too late.

Bucky is only a mile out from your location when he hears the barking of dogs and men yelling to each other. He pushes the ATV faster, dodging between trees and ducking under branches. Seconds later, Bucky sees lights bouncing off of a decrepit shack and agents wearing HYDRA uniforms scrambling around.

He takes one hand off the handle and pulls his pistol from the waistband of his pants. He clears the treeline and jumps from the vehicle, ducking and rolling onto the ground. The ATV flies forward and knocks down one of the agents. They all turn to investigate the commotion, and Bucky starts firing.

He shoots one, two, three people off of their feet and they collapse onto the ground in pools of blood. Realizing at this point that Bucky is a threat, the others around the cabin pull their weapons out and aim for Bucky. He clears the next six with one shot each, leaving only two standing and no bullets left in his magazine. Bucky launches the empty pistol straight into one of the assailant’s temples, sending him sprawling. At the same second the pistol leaves his hand, Bucky sprints at the remaining HYDRA agent and slams his metal fist into their face, blood and bone splattering.

Grabbing the gun from this last agent, Bucky grips it in his fist and enters the building. Pivoting side to side, there’s no one immediately in his line of sight. He can see blood spatters around the room, in front of the bookshelf and desk, and a pool of it right in front of him in the archway between rooms. Bucky can hear someone just on the other side of the wall and he adjusts his hands around the gun, finger hovering over the trigger.

Quickly rounding the open archway, Bucky finds his worst nightmare.

He sees you lying motionless on the ground, your warm, red blood steaming as it puddles around your body. A HYDRA operative stands over you, gun poised and ready.

Without another thought, Bucky unloads the weapon. He riddles the final agent with bullet holes, ensuring that their finger will never pull the trigger on you. He doesn’t watch as they fall, instead running towards you with only one thought in his head: Please. Please be alive.

Bucky reaches your body where you lie on your side, facing away from him. He quickly rolls you onto your back and watches as your head lolls from the motion.

“Y/N,” he calls hoarsely, placing his hands on your cheeks and patting quickly. “Y/N. Doll, wake up.”

Your eyes remain closed and you don’t move. Heart in his throat, Bucky places his fingers on your neck.

Nothing.

“Oh god,” Bucky whines.

Nausea roils in his stomach as Bucky places his hands one over the other on your chest, fingers interlocked. He begins compressions, forcing your heart to circulate what little blood remains in your veins. He feels your ribcage creak and groan under the pressure, knowing he will break bones but hoping the effort will revive you.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

Bucky removes his hands from your chest and uses them to tilt your head backwards, opening up your airway. He clamps your nose shut and presses his lips over yours, forcing two breaths into your lungs. He returns immediately to chest compressions, counting up to thirty again and repeating the process.

“Come on, doll. Come back to me.”

It feels like hours that Bucky crouches over your body, working hard to manually pump your heart and keep your brain oxygenated. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been without a pulse, but he’ll do anything to give you a chance at survival.

A loud whirring sound comes from outside and Bucky can hear boots hit the ground. He panics for a second, wondering how he’s going to keep you safe while also keeping you alive, until he hears Steve’s voice.

“Buck? Y/N?!”

“In here!” Bucky yells frantically.

Multiple people come barreling into the kitchen where Bucky is administering CPR. Shock and dread wash over everyone’s faces at the sight in front of them, but Bucky doesn’t have time for them to stand around. You don’t have time.

“Help her!” he cries, lungs and muscles burning. “Please!”

Natasha tries to rush forward, but her booted leg slows her down. Steve and Sam collapse on either side of your body, Sam pushing Bucky out of the way to start his own compressions. Bucky thunks to the ground, his body exhausted from the fear and effort of the last little while.

Wanda runs in, using her powers to suspend the regeneration cradle in the air and bring it over to you. Tony and Nat help Steve and Sam lift you up off the ground and into the machine as Bucky watches your cooling blood drip, drip, drip from your body.

Wanda’s face is wet with tears as she picks the cradle back up with you inside. Using a pulse from his palm, Tony blows a hole in the kitchen wall. Scraps of paper fly off the table and land near Bucky. Wanda takes you directly outside and into the waiting quinjet, Nat and Tony running alongside her.

A blast of cold air from the open wall slams into Bucky and chills him to his core. He looks down at himself and finds his hands and legs covered in blood. Your blood. One of the pieces of paper catches his eye as it turns red where it lays on the floor. He scoops it up gently and tries to make out what is written.

Bucky can tell instantly that it is your handwriting, but it’s nearly illegible now. He can barely make anything out, and what he can rips his heart to shreds. A wet hiccup tears out of Bucky’s throat and his hands start to quake uncontrollably as he stares at your words.

In case these are my last words,

Don’t be sad. I wish that I could have spent the rest of my life with you. I just want you all to know that I love you. so , so much.

“I’m too late,” he whispers. “She’s… she’s…”

Steve and Sam grab either of Bucky’s arms and drag him to his feet.

“We’ve gotta go, pal,” Steve says. “We’ve gotta get her to Helen!” Nodding his head, Bucky allows his friends to lead him outside and onto the jet.

He watches you lying in the cradle, not moving, the entire way home.

Part 13

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

#sorry i love you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic

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shadycomputerpolice · 20 days

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If you are straight, how do you cope with a desire for relationships?

My seperatist beliefs aside, the idea that humans will all find romantic love as long as we are open to it is delusional fairytale thinking. Even if all men and all women were good people, time, location, language, physical attraction and compatibility would still be barriers to finding love.

Think about it, the number of people we meet physically and virtually is limited

Of those people we meet, how many of them will we have meaningful interactions with?

Of those we have meaningful interactions with, how many will we like?

Of those we like, how many will like us back?

Of those that like us back, how many will we love?

Of those we love, how many will love us back?

Of those that love us, how many of them are we compatible with enough to develop a relationship with?

The above scenario would still apply in the heterosexual utopia that reformist hope to achieve.

Now in our current reality, we know most men are trash: if they are not rapist, porn watching scum, they make excuses for their rapist, porn watching scum brethen. As a heterosexual woman with basic self respect that people call "high standards", the number of potentially romantic partners is very low already, then add the natural elimination that happens even in the ideal situation then do the calculation.

As a straight seperatist, I "deal" with my desire for love and companionship by simply understanding that humans cannot control whether they find love. Before I accepted that men are a global menace and men are trash not just the ones I had the misfortune of interacting with, I had accepted that finding true love is about luck, pure dumb luck. The only thing you can do is to be a good person, live your life and have a robust social life to meet people who might like and hopefully they like you back and you both are compatible enough to form a loving relationship.

Romance should not be a life goal for anybody because you have no control over your ability to find love.

Listen as adults, we all need to understand and accept, there is a price to pay for the life we want. Living a life of freedom and self respect has a cost and living a life with "romance" has a cost. Whatever decision you make, you have to be willing to pay the price.

#seperatist #radical feminism #radfem discourse #self help #self improvement #female seperatism #anti romance #heterorealism

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likeadevils · 3 months

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Reputation Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Reputation in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing rep and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date:

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

February 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue is published (likely conducted on January 14/15).

"I don’t worry that I haven’t started the next record yet. I don’t worry that I don’t know what it’s going to be. I’m not worried that I have absolutely no timetable as to when it needs to be done. It could be two years from now; it could be three, it could be four. Or it could be one. You get these bursts of inspiration right at the moment you’re not expecting to. You just have to live your life, and hopefully you’ll take the right risks."

March 2, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a studio. (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio).

May 20, 2015: Taylor's interview with Marie Claire is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Taylor is not even sure she'll have made another album by the time 2020 rolls around. "I'm not going to put out an album until I've made one that's better than this one and that's going to be really hard," she says. And how might her music evolve if she does find love? "If that does happen, I think I could find complexity in happiness," she says. "I don't think anything's ever simple. Just because you're happy in a relationship doesn't mean there aren't moments of confusion or frustration or loneliness or sadness. Hopefully, if I ever find some sort of meaningful relationship, I'll be able to still find inspiration, just through everyday ups and downs."

October 7, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a recording studio in New York.

November 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue Australia is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Every two years since 2006 she has released an album, followed by a tour, then moved onto the next one. But her latest album, 1989, might change plans a bit. “This album has produced more number ones than any album in the past, so we’re just going to go with it,” she says, going on to explain how the usual album cycle could be extended. “Then I’ll feel like I’ll need to give people a breather from me because at a certain point they’re going to get a little sick of hearing about me, so I’ll need to go away for a while then, depending on my gauge on how sick of me they are, I’ll decide when to put out the next album.” [...] “I’ve been learning every single day what the right amount of sharing [of her personal life] is, and lately it’s been not natural because this album is such a snapshot of my life – it was so vivid, direct and honest.”

April 20, 2016: Taylor interview with Vogue is published (conducted in February).

So what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your life, Taylor Swift? “I have no idea,” she says, with a sigh that’s more blissful than anxious. “This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t known. I just decided that after the past year, with all of the unbelievable things that happened . . . I decided I was going to live my life a little bit without the pressure on myself to create something.” Do not freak: Swift is not abandoning making music. Those who know her know this is chemically impossible. (“Her not being creative is one of the last things I’d ever worry about,” the musician and producer Jack Antonoff tells me later.) “I’m always going to be writing songs,” Swift says. “The thing is, with me, I could very well come up with three things in the next two weeks and then jump back into the studio, and all of a sudden the next record is started. That’s an option, too.” But probably not for the moment.

August 29, 2016: Taylor writes in her diary "This summer is the apocalypse."

Gorgeous: Sep. 1-5, 16, 17, 19 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, Taylor is seen wearing this outfit in her Nashville apartment, which dates the song to September 17. From there, the rest of the dates are just math.

King of My Heart: Sep. 6, 19, 20, 21 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, Taylor is seen wearing the same outfit in the Gorgeous video and the KOMH video. It's also the same outfit as a video she later posted to The Swift Life (RIP) where she talked about how excited she was to be working after a long break.

September 9, 2016: Gigi Hadid says "You know, [Taylor] is starting to go back to work in the studio again."

I Don't Wanna Live Forever: Early Oct. (Speculation)

In a teaser for the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen in an unfamiliar outfit (black mesh top) with bleached hair and a thin gold choker that she was fond of in October 2016. She is not wearing her silver J pendant, which she got as a 27th birthday present (Dec 13, 2016). IDWLF is the only song with no video footage that was written in 2016. I don't recognize the studio in the clip, but she recorded IDWLF with Jack Antonoff, who is based in New York. Taylor was on the east coast until October 22nd, and was seen in New York between October 11-13.

Delicate: Oct. 24-26 (Speculation)

Taylor is seen wearing the aforementioned thin gold choker, with her post Sep. 24 haircut (straight across bangs instead of a side part). Since she normally goes into the studio with Max Martin and Shellback with a few ideas, and creates multiple songs during their sessions, I'm inclined to group this song with IDSB and place it in late October.

I Did Something Bad: Oct. 14, 27 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, at 4:18 you can spot a gold temporary tattoo on the inside of her wrist, similar to ones she was wore at Drake’s Birthday Party on October 23. Since she is seen working until sundown (She leaves LA on October 28) and had to be in Nashville 13 days priar (She was seen in New York City until the 13), October 14 and 27th are the only dates that make sense.

January 3, 2017: Taylor writes in her diary "I get all scared about the future because so much has changed in the last year of my life. I mean this time last year I was living in LA, getting ready for Grammys and now, I’m essentially based in London, hiding out trying to protect us from the nasty world that just wants to ruin things. We have been together and no one has found out for 3 months now. I want it to stay that way because I don’t want anything about this to change or become too complicated or intruded upon. But it’s senseless to worry about someday not being happy when I am happy now. Ok. Breathe."

Don't Blame Me: Jan. 10, 11, 12 (Inferring)

Taylor is seen wearing a similar jacket as she was papped wearing on the 11th in the Making of a Song video. (This is pure speculation on my part, but the mood also seems to be a bit lower than on other days). We know she was in LA around this time “for work.”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: Jan. 11 (Confirmed)

This post explains the situation pretty well. There are multiple accounts of what seems to be a similar story. January 11th one of two times she is seen leaving the gym after a long paparazzi dry spell, the other being in July. Seeing as the song is produced by Max Martin, who is located in LA, and the July pictures are in New York, I’m inclined to agree with the original source.

Dress: Late January/Early February 2017 (Speculation)

Jack Antonoff: “Dress is my second favorite [from Reputation]. It's the first one we made for it." Taylor was mostly based in London in early 2017, but there’s two times we know she was in the states. The first is in early January, when Taylor was in California working with Max Martin and Shellback. The second time is in late January/early February, when she was in Nashville preparing for Super Saturday Night. My guess is this was written in Late January, mostly because she was on the east coast, but theoretically she could've done it earlier in the month, or even later in the year.

Look What You Made Me Do: Late January/Early February 2017 (Speculation)

In promos for the Making of a Song Video, as well as in Miss Americana, Taylor is seen with straight hair and her J initial necklace (dating the song to post-Dec 13, 2016). Her hairstyle (the deep side part) is very Mid-2016. For most of 2017, she seems to favor the straight across braids with strands on the side. Long story short (ha), the hair makes me what to put this as early in the timeline as possible. We know Taylor was on the east coast (specifically Nashville) in early February, preparing for Super Saturday Night.

New Years Day: 2017 (Unknown)

There isn’t any footage of this, but Jack Antonoff has said that it came together fairly quickly and unexpectedly while they were hanging out at his house.

...Ready For It?: May 2017 (Speculation)

In promos for the Making of a Song series, as well as Miss Americana, Taylor is seen with curly hair, her J necklace, and not her Sapphire Evil Eye Ring, which starts showing up on June 27th (We don’t know exactly when or why she got the sapphire ring). . Since the song partially focuses on whether or not her lover is ready for the media frenzy that surrounds dating her, I’m inclined to place this song in May, when her and Joe’s relationship leaked to the press. The song was recorded in Sweden, and we can assume she was in Europe between May 15 and June 1, 2017. (That being said, we can assume she is in Europe for most of the first half of 2017).

Call It What You Want: June 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with straight hair, her J necklace, and not her sapphire evil eye ring. Once again, I am tempted to put this after her relationship leaked to the press, probably in early June (She is in the states on the 1st and 3rd, and probably leaves sometime in mid-June).

End Game: Mid July (Confirmed)

Ed Sheeran has said that the song was written around July 14th, while he was playing in Connecticut and Taylor was in Rhode island. Ed: End Game was written - I was playing Mohegan Sun in Connecticut, and she has a place in Rhode Island, which isn't too far. So she hits me up like, 'I know you're in Connecticut, come around.' I go around, she plays me some of what turned out to be reputation, and plays me this End Game, and I was like 'Man, I really like this. Can I do a verse? Can I do a rap verse?' And she was like, 'Yeah, for sure!' So the next day, I remember, I was in bed, and woke up and got my laptop out, put the song, just looped it, wrote this verse, and I went in with Max Martin, who she did the song with, and recorded it. Then Future did a verse, and then Taylor wrote a verse and we did the video.

Getaway Car: July 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with curly hair, her J necklace, and her sapphire evil eye ring, placing the song sometime shortly before/after June 27th. We know she was in the states for most of July, and in New York City on the 17th and 24th.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things: July 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with straight hair, her J necklace, and her sapphire evil eye ring. For all the same reasons as Getaway Car, this song was probably recorded in July. The exact order of Getaway Car and TIWWCHNT is probably impossible for anyone not involved in the making of the song to know. I could see arguments for either order, but Taylor has said that reputation is in fairly chronological order, I’m putting it in order of tracklist.

So It Goes: September 2017 (Inferring)

Oscar Görres, a cowritter on the song, said he got a call from Max Martin, Shellback, and Taylor asking to use his track after he’d just had a child. According to social media, he had a daughter in 2015 and a son in September of 2017. The interview is a bit confusing, timeline-wise. On one had, Görres says “I’d just become a father,” but then he implies that Max and Shellback had already completed most of the album. (For context, English isn’t his first language). Personally, I believe the believe the September 2017 date. Multiple sessioners have said Taylor said all songs on the album were about her relationship with Joe, and the tracklists in the reputation magazines are out of order, suggesting a late change. Taylor has has also been known to add a song to the album incredibly last minute— most notably Forever & Always on Fearless, but also with Death By A Thousand Cuts on Lover, which had to have been written post April 20, 2019 (but that's for another album).

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#txt*#timeline*#taylor swift #sure let’s do it tonight why not

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 month

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Closed Position: Meet the Characters

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

With the first chapter of the Dancing with the Stars fic, Closed Position, finally posting next week, I thought it might be fun to get to know Dieter and Kat a little bit more. I mostly did this for myself to try and get the Destiny & Deliverance version of Dieter out of my head. I also wanted to figure out Katarina a little more…because again, I still have Talia on the brain. 🤦🏻‍♀️

So, given that, you guys get some fun details on these two that will hopefully help me switch gears and give them a little more depth.

About Dieter Bravo in Closed Position

At the beginning of this fic, Dieter is eight months post rehab. This is the first time he has successfully kept clean for any meaningful length of time, and he is determined to stick with it. His acting career hasn't been going well because no one wants to work with him. He's looking to change his image and prove that he is a different man to get his life back on track. However, that process is proving harder than he would have thought as no one is taking his recovery seriously. As a last-ditch effort to save Dieter's career, his agent books him on Dancing with the Stars.

In an effort to hold on to his sobriety, Dieter has cut pretty much everyone out of his life that he considered to be an enabler or a bad influence. He spends a lot of his time alone and fills it with hobbies - painting, reading, music, taking care of his plants and the stubborn stray cat that won't leave his beach house.

Dieter has also been making an effort to present himself as less of a slob. When he leaves the house these days, he tries to look presentable and even dresses appropriately for work meetings. He slowly starts to embrace fashion and wants to look his best. He has held onto his longer curly locks, but instead of leaving them in an unruly mess, he does try to style them so that he looks more put together. As he gains more confidence, he embraces this version of himself and doesn't think twice about the old worn clothes he used to live in... except for his green robe. He still wears it around the house.

Even though Dieter keeps busy, he's lonely. He feels misunderstood and wishes people would give him a chance to prove himself. Ultimately, his dance partner gives him that opportunity. Sure, he finds her attractive, but it goes deeper than that. She gives him true friendship and the non-sexual intimacy that he has starved himself of most of his life.

About Katarina Stamos in Closed Position

Katriana Stamos has been involved with ballroom dance since she was very young. She has spent the last 13 years on Dancing with the Stars, where she often does not make it very far into the competition. Mainly due the partners she is paired with because they are just not physically able to keep up. She has suspicions that there are other nefarious reasons for it too. Those suspicions are confirmed during her last season on the show when she is paired with Dieter Bravo.

Kat isn't old by any means, but she is past the typical age of retirement for a ballroom dancer at 39. While dancing appears to be all about the glitz and glamor, behind the scenes its full of struggle and pain. Kat's body is wearing down and aches constantly due to worsening rheumatoid arthritis in her feet, knees, and hips. She's often too tired and achy after rehearsal to do things like clean her modest size house or go out with her castmates. She's a little messy and at times struggles to keep it together. However, she isn't going to let these issues get her down during her last season, not when she has finally been paired with someone that has potential to make it to finals.

This is an amazing opportunity for Kat, financially speaking. One would assume that being a cast member on Dancing with the Stars would be a good payout. It is, for those who make it further into the competition. Since Kat hasn't been lucky enough to do that, things can get tight with finances. Especially since she is trying to save up to open her own dance studio once she does finally retire from professional dancing. If she can make it to the end this time, her funding problems will be solved.

The last notable thing about Kat...she is dating another dancer on the show named Alec. They've been together for six years. Alec is kind of a jerk for many reasons that we will see play out through the course of the story. He becomes almost unbearable to deal with when Dieter comes into the mix even though Alec is the one that has a terrible history when it comes to fidelity.

There are some other tidbits we find out about Kat early on that explains why she is so accepting of Dieter and willing to give him a chance. What she doesn't expect are the feelings that come with their budding friendship.

How are you guys feeling about these new characters and this different version of Dieter? Excited yet?

I have done a TON of research around the behind-the-scenes workings of the show. I plan to share some of that with you as we go along. It has actually helped form a lot of the plot. While I don't claim 100% accuracy on it, I do plan to try and incorporate details as accurately as I can from what information is public.

With all that said, we finally get to really meet these two next week. I can't wait to finally share them with you!

💜Mysty

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, alcohol abuse, and drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

CP Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #closed position series #closed position extra

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revvethasmythh · 10 months

Note

Do you think if Chetney was younger, the response to Fearniture would be different? I’ve seen some people try to minimize it entirely, even after this episode and the threesome.

This is something I've been thinking about on and off for a lot of the campaign, and I've kind of settled around thinking that the answer is both yes and no. Do I think Chetney being visibly elderly and therefore non-traditionally attractive is definitely a reason for the relative unpopularity of Fearniture? Yes. Do I think it's THE reason? No.

I often think of Chetney's treatment within fandom is kind of reminiscent of the way Sam's PC's get treated. That is, as a joke character, someone who does a bit and doesn't really have much else going on except to cause chaos and be annoying. Like, Chetney is a ridiculous character, purposefully so, but I think the way the fandom engages with that is often in the bad faith assumption that just because a character is ridiculous they can't be meaningful. (Remember how popular was the idea that Chet was just a joke character that Travis would kill off any day now? That there was no point in getting invested because he was "just a joke"?) Which, I, a person who grew up reading series after series of some of the most utterly ridiculous urban fantasy books out there--and loved them, because UF is a fundamentally absurd genre--loudly disagree with. I often think you can find some of the most profound sentiments in the world buried in utter ridiculousness (what did Brennan say? "Profundity and absurdity are deeply in love"? Because THAT).

I just think people often take the face value of something ridiculous or absurd and never bother to sit with anything deeper about it, and I think that's more what's at play here with Chetney than his physical attractiveness, though I do still think that's an aspect of it. If people take Fearne/Chetney seriously (and I don't mean as some sort of intensely romantic, monogamous couple--we all know they're not that) it means acknowledging that Chetney can be treated seriously as a character with depth and worth in exploring a romantic relationship. And it's so much easier to just keep it surface value and think he's just a randy weirdo shooting shots (and, hopefully, getting shot down. Because who wants their favorite to end up in a relationship with someone they think won't add any depth to the dynamic?)

There is also some ship war stuff happening here, especially in regards to why Chetney is erased from the threesome (keeping him away from Fearne) which is conversely why people really seem to like Chetney/Deanna but also don't create much if any fan content for it (still not engaging with Chetney, but also, hey! At least he's away from Fearne). I won't get into the specifics of it all too much because I think ship wars are unbelievably stupid and I hate the idea of accidentally calling that to me, but I feel like it definitely exists as an undercurrent of Chetney-hate and his erasure from the threesome.

#chetney pock o'pea #asks #anon #critical role #bells hells

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burification · 9 months

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Fever In Bedtime Covers

Wilbur Soot x Reader

Ao3

Warnings: almost smut. but not. cheating,, toxic relationship, i think that’s it ???

no smut but minors dni pls pls pls plssssss

It’s cold. It’s late. You’re tired. You’re too upset to care. You’re livid. Despite your anger, a rational part of you admits that you should’ve gone to bed, or at least drove instead of storming out of your apartment. You don’t know where you’re going but you don’t stop. It’s not the most dangerous area, but you are still young and alone at almost one in the morning and that adds a layer of uneasiness to the air nipping at your skin.

You give up on storming off before you get lost and you seek solace on a bench at a park nearby, usually lively with families and laughter but is now so quiet. You take a moment to collect yourself, let your breath steady, attempting to find some semblance of peace. You breathe. You want to go home, you want everything to be how it was before. You don’t want to be alone in this park.

The eeriness and uncertainty of the dark decides for you that you should get back home.

You feel stupid. You feel immature. You plan how you will make it up to him, for making accusations and then storming out. You think until you’re in your building and climbing the stairs before you collide into another body. A familiar face- you recognize him as someone from your building. He’s distracted by something on his phone and you don’t know if you should make anything out of this interaction before your thoughts are interrupted by a “Sorry, ‘m just trying to get up to my apartment.”

You knew you recognized him but had never spoken to him. You’ve heard someone with an accent playfully yelling from time to time, you just wouldn’t have guessed to associate those joking vulgarities with the seemingly reserved and warm looking boy in front of you. “I’m Wil, I’ve seen you around but I don’t think we’ve met properly.” You introduce yourself to him, in hopes that a nice chat will ease your anxieties of going back home.

Before you can start any meaningful conversation, he excuses himself to take a phone call and you’re left with a mix of curiosity and relief from the brief interaction.

You go back to the flight of stairs up to your apartment until you’re in front of your door. You’re back in your thoughts again, thinking of how you could possibly make this up to your partner. Again, your thoughts are interrupted but this time by the sound of keys being shoved into a lock to your left. It’s Wil again.

“We just keep running into each other,” you joke. He laughs half heartedly.

“What’re you doing out this late anyway?”

You’re not sure how to respond. You settle on a vague response, not wanting to burden him with your personal troubles. You don’t mention your insecurity and self doubt, unsure if you overreacted or if there’s a genuine cause for concern in your relationship. Despite the turmoil, you simply say, “I just needed some air.”

“Very well. Goodnight then.” And he disappears into his apartment. You feel a yearning to talk to him more. There is something about him that exudes warmth and comfort and in this moment of vulnerability, you want to confide in him.

You retreat into your own apartment, trying to ignore the emotional turbulence and focus on your partner. It’s dark, no sign of anyone. You wonder if he had the same idea as you after the fight- perhaps he decided to clear his head as well, hopefully he was smart enough to take the car. A glimmer of hope wonders if he felt bad and went to go look for you. You feel around the wall to find the light switch while you grab your phone to call and let him know you’re home safe. As light fills the room, your gaze shifts down at your phone, you notice a pair of shoes by the door that you don’t quite recognize. They’re definitely not your partner’s and they’re a bit too expensive to be yours. The pit of anxiety in your stomach weighs heavy like a rock and molds into disappointment.

The hallway seems to go on forever, your heart races with trepidation as you quietly make your way to the bedroom. Hoping against hope that your fears are unfounded, you pray that you’re worrying over nothing. You would rather be insecure and crazy for the rest of your life than any of the other thoughts running through your head be true. The doorknob is cold, the door is cracked already and all that’s left for you to do is push. You do. It’s dark, it’s silent.

There’s a blue hue filling the room and with that small illumination, you make out a small figure in the arms of your lover. There’s no clothes strewn across the room, there’s no sick smell of sweat. It resembles the room you left behind, with the sole difference being the presence of the woman entwined with your partner.

You can’t bring yourself to cry out. You can’t bring yourself to be angry. It’s late. You’re tired. The hallway shrinks in size as you make your way to the front door again. You can’t storm off. You’re not livid, you’re just defeated. You’re standing in the hallway of your apartment complex, unaware of where to go or who to call. It’s too late to burden your family and you left all your friends to focus on the man lying in your bed with another woman.

Your knuckles against wood catches your brain up to your body. “We just keep running into each other don’t we?” Wil says in a playful tone. You wonder how he has so much energy this late at night. “I’m tired,” is all you manage to get out. “Are you locked out?” He asks, because he didn’t see you walk in and he didn’t see you walk out with half of your heart still in that apartment.

He takes your lack of an answer as acceptance, he extends an invitation and welcomes you in. His apartment is warm, not only physically but it’s also comforting, much like his presence. There’s a sense of home that you didn’t know could exist in this building, it’s a nice contrast from the cold and dark of your apartment.

The lights are on and there’s light music coming from another room. Nothing too loud, nothing you could hear from your apartment, it’s gentle.

He breaks the silence, “Is everything alright? It’s pretty late and you seem upset. Did something happen to you?” And he’s right. It is late. And you don’t know this man, who was stumbling up the steps when you met him. And you’re alone in his apartment. You wonder if he lives by himself or if anyone else is here.

“Do you afford this place on your own?” you try to get some information out of him. It’s not the nicest place but you could barely afford your apartment with your partner's income together.

“I do, yes.”

You wonder how he’s able to. It’s decorated nicely, guitar stands in the corner of the living area next to the gaming consoles across from the nice looking sectional couch. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s comfortable.

He motions you to sit down and make yourself comfortable while he offers you a glass of water. He behaves as if he’s ready to start his morning.

“What’re you doing up this late?” It's your turn to ask questions now.

“Could you just confirm that everything is okay? Do I need to call anyone?” He seems genuinely worried. You think about how you’d react if a stranger just knocked on your door at three in the morning without saying much.

“I’m okay.” You assure. Wil visibly relaxes.

“I’m just up so I can work.” You assume he’s trying to get stuff done before a deadline, “Where’re you working?” “I do online stuff. Some of the people I make things with live across the country. I try to work with their time. I don’t mind it too much though, I prefer being up in the later hours.” You’re too tired to care to pry so you just accept his answer.

“May I ask why you knocked on my door?”

You don’t want to relive it, your heart still aches for the pieces of it that you left by the door. You tell him. You try not to look at him while you do because every word that comes out of your mouth, his eyes soften. Every word of consolation he says is dripping with a care and hospitality that you’ve grown so unfamiliar to. You want to cry because this stranger is being so kind to you and you want more, you feel pathetic. You want to tell him all your troubles so he can lick your wounds. And he does. In a way a stranger can without overstepping, he does. He listens.

You feel bad for burdening him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He listens like he is truly interested in you and your stories. It’s almost three in the morning now and you wonder if this guy sleeps at all. You’re not tired anymore. Your body is, but your brain is wide awake. Maybe you’re trying to stay awake to be alert or to take in this moment. Your glass is empty. You know you should leave but you don’t know if you could bring yourself to go home. Almost as if he could read your mind, he grabs your glass and takes it over to the kitchen. You prepare to leave and to be alone again. You think of ways to thank him but instead, he’s sat back down with a full cup of water. Almost as a way to say ‘Stay.’ You accept and hope he can see the gratitude in your eyes.

You two talk like old friends catching up with each other. You exchange stories and Wil’s soft and sympathetic eyes have turned to squinty ones accompanied with laugh lines. His personality is just as warm as his eyes are and you wonder if the room is being lit up by the lights or if it’s just that smile he bares. You can’t help but feel a bit guilty taking in his appearance when he listened to you so intently. Your glass is empty again and you can barely keep your head up. You want to stay, you want to be safe here and let him put you back together. You want him to make you whole again. “Here,” he gets up to grab you a blanket and a remote to turn on the tv, “Would you like to watch anything?” You feel like you’ve surely overstayed your welcome, “I should go.” “You don’t have to go back. Stay,” he says it out loud this time and like a well trained dog, you listen.

“Is this okay?” He sits close. “Mhm,” you mumble. He throws the blanket across both your laps. “What do you wanna watch?” He nudges the remote towards you but you just bury your face in his shoulder. “You choose,” you don’t care, you just want to be close, “please hold me.” He obeys. He rests an arm around your shoulder, he’s careful about it but you move yourself closer to him. You crave him, his warmth and his touch. You want to be whole again. He pulls you closer and you hold him harder, you hold him like he will disappear if you let go.

“Thank you for being so kind to me Wil,” you say it just above a whisper, “thank you.” He holds your head against his shoulder. He doesn’t say or do anything other than that small action but you take it and savor it. “Why are you being so kind to me, Wil?” He’s quiet for a second, “I don’t know,” you look at him but he’s not looking at you. He’s looking forward to the tv show he put on before, “you seem like you need someone right now. I want to be here for you.” He’s looking down at you now, you try not to let your eyes water but his expression is honest and it sends you over the edge.

He pulls you onto his lap until your legs are caging him and then his hands are on the back of your head. He pulls you close until the top of your head is met by his lips. He holds you close, he holds you like you are made of porcelain, as if you will shatter into a million pieces if he lets you go.

You know you shouldn’t, god knows how much of a hypocrite you’d be if you did, but you do it anyway. You need this, even if it’s just for tonight. You bring yourself up from your place on his chest to cup his face, you kiss him. You don’t expect him to, but he kisses you back. It’s fluid, it’s natural. Your hands are laced in his hair and his hands have gone from rubbing your back to holding your hips. You’re filled with another spurt of energy, a carnal desire. You’re so drunk on his lips that you cast aside any need for oxygen. His hand goes from your hip to your cheek and he pulls away. “Are you sure about this?” He’s searching your face for any trace of doubt. “Please, Wil,” you need this. You would get down on your knees to prove to him if you needed to.

You kiss him again, it’s short this time as you make your way down to his jaw, his neck, and to the small bit of collarbone exposed from his collared shirt. You move with the rise and fall of his chest as you undo his buttons. The kisses get hungrier with desperation with every button undone until you’re at his jeans. You leave small kisses at his hips before you look up at him one more time for an okay to go ahead. He looks at you at with the same sympathetic look he gave you before.

“I don’t think this is what you need right now, my darling.” You know he’s right, every part of your being wants to fight against it and just have this but you know he’s right.

“I’m sorry,” you take back your place next to him on the couch, “you’ve been nothing but kind to me tonight I don’t mean to use you. I’m so sorry.” Any lingering feeling of confidence and bliss has gone and replaced itself with regret. You want to crawl away and sulk in your deplorable sorrows like a bad dog.

A hand on your knee breaks you from your trance. You don’t move, you hope that maybe if you’re still enough you’ll disappear from this situation.

“Look at me please.”

To no avail you’re still here. Your head feels like boulders upon your shoulders as you bring yourself to look at him. You don’t expect what you see. There’s no trace of pity or discomfort anywhere on his face. Instead, you see the eyes filled with warmth and comfort you were met with before any of this happened which makes it feel all the more heart wrenching.

“I want this,” he keeps his hand on your knee and offers a reassuring squeeze, “just under different circumstances.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything so you just nod.

“Let me take you out tomorrow? Maybe we can try this again.”

“I could settle for that.” You wonder how a person’s company could be so serene.

“You can stay here tonight, okay? I’ll take the couch.”

“Can we both stay here please?”

He hums a yes and excuses himself to his room to wash up and grab some pillows and blankets.

When he comes back his face looks fresh and his hands are full with two pillows, a thick blanket and stuffed whale.

“Whalebur.” Is all he says, in full seriousness. “You can sleep with him tonight.”

He makes the couch into a makeshift bed and turns off the lights, the only thing granting you guys vision is the tv screen that he leaves on. He pulls you into his side in a half sit half laying down position, you lean your head against his shoulder with one arm around his and one arm holding onto his stuffed whale. There’s some album review youtube video playing on the screen that he watches intently and if you’re being honest, you don’t know if it’s his fingers tracing circles on your skin or the video that’s causing you to doze off.

At some point in the video, you fall asleep. You’re awoken shortly after to a light snore above you, where Wil decided to rest his head against yours. His arm is around your waist now and you’re closer to him than you were before. It’s cozy. You want to stay here, in this moment. You want to get used to this warmth, this comfort. You want to get used to the closeness and the tenderness he offers.

You hold the plush, blue whale to yourself tighter and drink in every second of the setting. You want to get used to this. Your head is filled with thoughts of waking up and falling asleep next to someone so unconditionally sweet. You let these ideas saturate your brain and hope they bleed into your dreams before you drift off into sleep for a final time.

#burification #wilbur soot x reader #c:wilbur #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction

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thatgirl4815 · 8 months

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Intimacy (Ep 2)

Following up on this post, Ep2 has fleshed out Jojo's commentary on sex in meaningful ways, building upon what we saw in Ep1 with all three couples. In this episode, the meaning of sex to each relationship becomes abundantly clear.

Sex is integral to BostonNick because their relationship is built upon it. For Boston, it's what the relationship is. For Nick, it's the foundations, but he wants to build emotional intimacy beyond their physical intimacy. I find it interesting that BostonNick have defined themselves as FWB at this point (though we still haven't seen much of the "friend" part yet) while RaySand are shown to be more friends (of a sort), yet they were originally labeled "bed friends." Whether or not we will see these dynamics change remains to be seen.

Sex is a boundary in TopMew's relationship: desired by Top, resisted by Mew. Mew desires the emotional intimacy first, as he believes this is the key to a successful relationship. There's also the argument that he withholds sex to test Top's intentions and determine if he is actually committed to pursuing a relationship with Mew beyond the physical aspect. I, personally, am not convinced that Top is 100% committed to Mew (and I don't think Mew believes it either), but we've been shown that he is at least trying to see beyond the physical side.

Sex is a building block for RaySand just as much as it is problematic. For Ray, it's about feeling wanted, feeling like someone is there for him--feeling a little less lonely. It's ultimately a distraction from his loneliness. What he doesn't realize is that building this relationship with Sand could only increase his loneliness later, when he is unable to commit to Sand fully and is thus left even more lonely. For Sand, sex is something to be both feared and desired; he's attracted to Ray, both his mysteriousness and his lighthearted nature, but he's also afraid of what this attachment could mean. He knows himself well enough to understand that this could only hurt him later (he likely learned this from a past relationship). Nick could take notes from Sand, I think, even though I predict they will both end up in a similar situation. Hopefully we will see some discussions over this since they will now be roommates.

I’m curious to see how the implications of this statement will come back to haunt Sand later, when he wants to pursue an exclusive relationship with Ray. It's also intriguing that Sand is the one saying this instead of Ray, indicating just how easygoing Ray is about the entire thing. He doesn't expect bad fallout from this, but the more he takes, the more he will have to give back in the end. While Sand’s “you’re gonna keep wanting me” could be taken as strictly flirtatious, I believe he intended it more as a warning. Evidently, the terms of their relationship will come into question in the next episode.

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 1 year

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Imagine getting Azula a present for her birthday

The first thing you noticed when your family returned to the fire nation was how serious everyone was. You’d been born in a fire nation colony so had little experience with the capital of your nation. Your parents were high born but even they’d relaxed in the colonies and allowed you to have a mostly normal life. However once Ozai declared your parent’s mission over and summoned them back to the capital that all ended. Rules patroling you seemed to spring from everywhere. Don’t wear your hair fully down, don’t meet the eye of anyone who ranks higher than you, bow from the floor to all members of the royal family...the list was endless! Due to your parent’s being very well respected you were introduced to Azula and she took you into her group. Part of you wondered if she only did it to please her father or because you were considered an oddity here in the capital but as time went on you didn’t think either was the case. Everyone here was very strict or distant and even Azula’s closest friends didn’t know her very well. Mai seemed to tolerate her mainly because of her titles and brother. Ty lee, while seemingly fond of Azula, obviously didn’t try getting closer to her than necessary. That wasn’t how friendships worked in your town and you were determined not to pick up this capital custom. So you put time and effort into all three of the girls and made progress with each. You’d go shopping with Ty lee, discuss popular and obscure theology with Mai and help Azula think through her battle strategies. Azula was the one who reacted the strongest to your attention and friendship. She began spending more time with you alone, seeking you out regularly and inviting you to events where even Mai and Ty lee weren’t permitted to go. You found yourself drawn to Azula because she seemed like the one who could most do with a friend. Mai had Zuko, Ty lee seemed content flitting from numerous different people but Azula didn’t really have anyone.

So you continued nurturing your friendship and when Azula’s birthday came around you set out to get her the most meaningful present you could to let her know she was cared for. You were very excited with your choice of present and rushed into the palace, the box you’d spent hours wrapping and unwapping until it was perfect, held tightly in your hands. “Good morning” you smiled finding Mai, Ty lee and Zuko in the royal wing. “Good morning” Ty lee beamed back but Zuko and Mai just nodded not being morning people. Mai noticed your present first. “What’s that?” she asked and you smiled “Azula’s present!”. They all looked at you confused and Zuko spoke first “why are you buying my sister a present?”. “Because it’s her birthday” you explained but that didn’t seem to help, they all still stared at you blankly. “It’s her birthday so I got her a birthday present...is that not something you do in the capital?”. “No but it sounds very sweet” Ty lee grinned. Mai shrugged “I would like presents every year just for being born but I can’t say I understand the logic”. Zuko nodded but you shrugged “ow well, hopefully Azula will enjoy it anyway”. “You’re still going to give it to her”? Zuko asked shocked and you paused “well why wouldn’t I?”. “She might think it’s weird considering you only give people presents when you’re...”. Mai hit Zuko’s arm before he could finish and shook her head. You stared confused “if you’re what?”. “It doesn’t matter” Mai said quickly “Zuko was thinking of something else, I think Azula’s in her study if you want to see her”. You frowned but Mai and Ty lee smiled at you encouragingly so you shook Zuko’s words from your mind and went to find the birthday girl.

You knocked on Azula’s door and heard her call come in. “Happy birthday Azula!” you cried as soon as your eyes fell on her. Azula jumped vividly, the brush she was writing with dragging messily across the page ruining her letter. “I am so sorry” you gaped “can it be saved”. “No it cannot” Azula sighed angrily “please in the future don’t scream just because it’s my birthday”. You nodded “is wishing someone a happy birthday not a thing here either?” you asked “just when I think I’m getting a handle on the capital I mess everything up”. “Birthdays are not a big deal here” Azula nodded “only important ones are given any recognition but I have heard of some places where every single birthday is celebrated. I take it your home town is one such place?”. You nodded smiling at the memory “Yes! Every year you usually have a party or do something special with the people you love most! You eat your favourite foods and someone usually makes a cake, it’s lovely”. Azula nodded her head but looked unconvinced and then her eyes fell on the box in your hand. “And what is this?”Azula asked. “A present” you smile brightly but Azula blushed and looked away for some reason. “For my birthday right?” she asked “this is one of your odd traditions nothing more?”. “Yes” you agreed unsure what else a present could mean “you also give the person whose birthday it is a present, something you think they’ll like and wrap it up nicely for them...can I give it to you?”. Azula was still red but nodded so you placed it down on the desk before stepping away.

Azula picked it up hesitantly and undid the bow before removing the lid carefully. You watched her face excitedly for any reaction but all Azula did was stare inside. You were dying for a sign however small to know if she loved or hated it but Azula continued to stare until you thought you would burst of anticipation. When you couldn’t contain yourself any longer you sighed “so do you like it? It’s the trinket we saw in that glass store in town”. Azula nodded her head “yes I recognise it...how did you decide on this for me?”. “Well I thought I saw you admiring it when we were there because you kept staring at it but now I’m not sure if you staring at something means you love or hate it”.

Azula remembered the day a few weeks ago when you went into town together and she recalled how you’d mysteriously disappeared before reappearing minutes later. She picked up the small figurine carefully. It was a rose that fit in the palm of her hand made of different orange, red and yellow coloured glass all intricately folded together. When the light hit it looked as if it was on fire and Azula remembered thinking it looked very beautiful and she had the same thought now.

“So...is it okay?” you asked nervously “If you don’t like it then I can always return it and get you something else?”. “No!” Azula said sharply before she composed herself and rid her face of the emotion she felt underneath. “It is a nice present, I like the colours...” she said awkwardly aware she was blushing “I will keep it, thank you”. The look on your face made Azula’s heart beat faster. You were so happy that she liked the tiny piece of glass and Azula figured if such a small thing could cause you so much happiness maybe it wasn’t such a stupid tradition after all. “I’m so glad you like it” you grinned “I was going to suggest we have a meal or something to celebrate but as that’s probably not a thing here either I’ll leave you to your work. Have a lovely birthday day Princess” you smiled and with a bow to her you disappeared.

Later

All day your gift didn’t leave Azula’s mind. Usually when you gave someone a present it meant you were interested in courting that person. For a second when you entered Azula thought that was what you intended, she thought this was your declaration before she realised what your intention’s really were. As she stared at the small rose she recalled the slight relief she felt realising you didn’t mean to court her but she also felt another feeling, larger and deeper inside herself which she refused to acknowledge.

Azula placed the rose back in the box and got back to work. A while later a servant let her know that her father was ready for her and she prepared to meet with him. She hesitated to leave the present you gave her and frowned. She saw the servant glance at it and blushed furiously. “Tell my father I will be there soon” she commanded and he scurried away. Azula sighed and lifted the lid off the box once again. The rose was still shining beautifully and Azula hesitated before picking it up and slipping it into her pocket.

The meeting did not go well. Ozai didn’t mention Azula’s birthday which wasn’t odd but the fact he didn’t even seem aware it was today stung a little considering a girl she knew for only 8 months did. The meeting went from bad to worse as Ozai started snapping at everyone in the room and through it all Azula gently held your rose. It was cold in her palm and she liked the coolness. She carried on with her meeting, holding the rose whenever she needed something positive to focus on, and got through the meeting.

When Azula was finally dismissed she was relieved and felt the toll it had taken on her. She started back to her study aware she still had work to do but honestly her eyes were tired and her brain hurt. She didn’t want to do any more work and your offer suddenly came into her head. You’d mention something about food...a tradition you’d thought to try before figuring Azula wouldn't want to. Azula thought it over before she found a messenger and dispatched them to go find you.

You arrived at Azula’s apartments in the palace confused. Her note hadn’t said much just that she wanted to see you and to come quickly. So you dutifully dropped your very busy schedule (which concerned lounging and reading in the gardens) and made your way to her door. Two guards let you in and you called out for Azula. “Ah y/n” a voice replied and you turned to see Azula descending the stairs. “Azula” you smiled before remembering the note “is everything okay? Your note just said to come here”. “Everything is fine” Azula assured you “I just...thought we could entertain that custom of yours”. “The meal?” you asked excitedly. Azula nodded looking away to disguise her blush “exactly, what must we do?”. You laughed “we don’t have to attack it like a battle! I have everything planned, I’d already gotten the picnic ready and I still have the spot in the gardens although I do need to decorate it and call the others...if you give me an hour I will have everything ready!”. Azula nodded “that is fine” and with a smile you rushed for the door. Before you could disappear Azula called out to you “ow and y/n there’s no need to disturb the others i’m sure they’re too busy on such short notice”. You paused “are you sure? You’re their friend so i’m sure they’d happily drop whatever they were doing to celebrate your birthday, I mean it only happens once a year”. Azula smiled at the sentiment but shook her head “somehow I doubt they’ll think that way but it doesn’t matter, I will be happy with just the two of us”. Now it was your turn to blush. You nodded and bowed slightly “of course princess” and left the room.

An hour later Azula made her way to the gardens, following the instructions you’d sent her. She usually avoided the gardens for obvious reasons but she was hoping you’d give her a good memory in the place her mother cherished. You’d said to follow the yellow flowers and so Azula did that until she saw a raised area. There was a small platform with food all arranged along a small table. A small cake perched in the centre with the words “Happy Birthday Azula” frosted on the top. Lanterns hung around the platform and lines of colourful fabric hung from the ceiling of the structure. Cushions were placed on the floor in a seating area and the whole area looked very inviting even if it wasn’t very fire nation. Azula took in the scene for a few seconds before she realised you were there. You were muttering about something as you re-arranged some of the decorations your back to her. “Y/n” she called and you jumped “Azula! I promise I’m almost done I was just trying to work out where to place the balloons”. Azula smiled “there’s balloons too?” looking at the sea of decorations all over the small structure. You paused “why is it too much?”. Azula stepped through the doorway and saw due to the streams of decorations you were practically hidden away from the rest of the garden. Azula liked that idea and surveyed the rest of the platform. The lanterns made the light that passed through them change colour and they chimed nicely in the breeze. The food looked and smelled delicious and the cushions looked very comfortable. “No this is just perfect” Azula smiled. You beamed at her happily and squeezed her arm “I’m so happy you like it! You deserve a special day”. Azula blushed and wasn’t sure how to respond to something like that, especially while you were staring at her just inches away. So Azula just avoided the topic.

“Shall we begin?” she asked and you nodded. You placed a selection of all the foods (which were all Azula’s favourites of course) on a plate and passed it her before doing the same for yourself. You joined her on the cushions and smiled “so! How was your birthday? What made you decide to indulge me?”. Azula looked down at her food “it was fine...I had a really long war meeting and honestly the thought of doing more work after it was not appealing, so I contacted you. I know it’s not ideal, a whole evening wasted on being frivolous but there’s nothing to do about it now. I’ll just work extra hard tomorrow”. You frowned before looking up at her “it’s your birthday so I think you’re allowed to have a more chilled day just enjoying yourself. Plus you already work so hard anyway, if anyone deserves a rest it’s you”. “Yes but I work hard for a reason, you don’t become the best by being lazy”. You nodded “yes but you’re already the best!” you grinned “so sit back and relax for one evening. The world will still be waiting for you to conquer it tomorrow”. You nudged her shoulder and despite your words going against everything she’d been taught Azula found herself smiling “okay”.

The two of you chatted while you ate and when you finished you began cutting Azula a piece of cake. She watched the concentration clearly etched on your face fondly. You passed Azula the piece and she took a bite cautiously but she had no reason to. It was wonderful. “This is rather nice y/n what type of cake is it?”. You smiled “it’s based off a red velvet cake because you know fire nation but I also added some spice because I know you like it”. “You made this?” Azula cried and you nodded “yes but it was no bother...i’m just glad you like it”. “I do” Azula agreed “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this silly custom of yours. It is nice to be spoiled”. You nodded grinning “it is! My birthday is in January just so you know”. Azula froze at the thought of having to plan something like this for you when you laughed “don’t worry I was joking, you don’t have to do anything for me”. “Well I doubt I’d be able to match this” Azula said gesturing around her “but I will remember, you have my word”. You smiled blushing but didn’t break your eyes away from her “thank you Azula, I’m really glad I met you”. Azula went red matching you and nodded her head “I am too...although I should be going soon. I have a meeting early tomorrow morning”. You nodded standing “of course, would you like me to walk you back to your room?”. Azula shook her head “that is fine thank you y/n...do you need any help with all the decorations?” she asked hesitantly. You shook your head “no it’s fine, the decorations will take 5 minutes to pack away and i’ll take the spare food to the kitchen...the only thing is the cake, would you like to take it or would you like me to?”. Azula eyed the cake remembering the delicious taste and nodded “I will take it with me”. You packaged it up for her and smiled “well I hope you’ve had a nice birthday”. “I have thank you” Azula nodded “now I must be going”. You nodded and waved as Azula left the gardens.

Azula walked through the palace to her room your cake in her hands and she felt proud. Her friend had made this to celebrate her birthday. She hadn’t asked you to, you did it because you wanted to do it for her, because you cared for her. Azula stepped inside her room and looked about her. She couldn’t help but realise after all the colourful decorations you’d used just how dull her room was. Despite all of the finery none of the room was really hers. None of the pieces had been bought just for her, they were all things passed down for generations. Azula placed your cake on a table and took your present out of her pocket, running her hand over it softly. Nobody had ever bought her something just because they wanted her to be happy. Azula wondered where to place your present. She didn’t want it out in the open where anyone could see or break it. She couldn’t find anywhere suitable so she changed and got into bed still undecided. She toyed with the figurine remembering the way you’d smiled when she said she liked it. Now safely in her own room alone she recognised she’d been slightly disappointed this was a token of friendship and nothing else. She enjoyed having your attention and liked you most out of all her friends but in a very different way. Still, even if this wasn’t a romantic gesture it was still a gesture of love and such an open un-fire nation one.

Azula smiled to herself before placing the rose under her pillow where she could hide it but also keep it close to her while she slept. “What a strange day” she muttered to herself but she knew it hadn’t actually been strange, it had been the best birthday she could remember having and it was all because of you.

___

I’m constantly sad Azula never had anyone really love and care for her like Zuko did, she deserved better. But even if someone had shown her affection, based on her sad upbringing, I feel like Azula wouldn’t know how to respond to it because she’s never been shown what love is so I want to shower her in it!! Hence this story :)

#azula #atla azula #avatar azula #azula x reader #princess azula #azula imagine #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender azula #fire nation #mai #ty lee #zuko #atla mai #atla ty lee #atla zuko #avatar mai #avatar ty lee #avatar zuko

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