#I wish ao3 tags translated here

[defectivehero]

warnings: suicidal ideation, conversations about death and morality, blood & violence

The hero looks out into the faces of strangers gathered around the coffin and takes a deep breath. The effort isn't easy, and it takes a few moments for them to calm their racing heart rate. This is all an act, they remind themself. It's all just an act—a farce, a trick, whatever one wants to call it.

When the agency had offered an olive branch to the villain, the hero's enemy, the hero didn't know what to think. They thought their agency was misguided—or, more likely, desperate—to attempt a truce with the villain. The hero knew their enemy well enough to know that a promise of peace wouldn't be sufficient enough to guarantee the city's safety.

Yet here they are, standing over their enemy's elegant black coffin. The agency had spared no expense in maintaining the act, it seemed. Beside the coffin is a photograph of the villain—one from their civilian life. And next to it stands the hero, who was chosen to speak at the funeral—to pose as a grieving friend. They initially opposed the idea, but eventually agreed upon realizing the charade was necessary to maintain the façade.

For this fake funeral to work, the hero had to learn about the villain. They learned more than they would have ever hoped to know—everything from the villain's upbringing to the circumstances behind their second job. The hero had studied up on Jordan: the person behind the villainous mask. Yet, as the hero stands over the villain's coffin, they can't help but think that they didn't prepare enough.

"Jordan was a close friend," the hero begins. The air is silent around them and the weary afternoon sun casts shadows across the malnourished grass. "A sibling to some, a coworker to others." The hero adds. They're doing well so far, they think. Out of the corner of their eyes, as they continue speaking, they can see nods of agreement.

The hero can't quite register what they're saying, as the words begin to escape them. They launch into a fake anecdote of sorts and their focus slips elsewhere. Their fists are clenched at their sides and their eyes refuse to leave the ornate coffin marring the center of their vision with a blackened smudge. They come back to themself at the end of the anecdote, recognizing that they need to find some way to wrap it all up neatly. (They need some way to finish this, please-)

"I can't imagine what my life would have been like without them," the hero realizes aloud. Indeed, their life would be very different if they had never met the villain. The hero glances at the coffin and a shiver runs down their spine. "And now that they're gone..." Their voice cracks at the end of that statement. Their eyes are unwittingly drawn to to the tree in the distance—where they know the villain to be hiding. Their enemy has enhanced hearing, and the hero knows they will be listening with rapt attention. The hero tries to focus on something else, but their thoughts continue to spiral.

The hero sees the villain's dead body sprawled across the pavement... They see dried blood stains sinking into the cement, the only sign of their enemy's existence... They see an empty glaze to the villain's normally bright eyes...

The hero sees themself waking up in the middle of the night and moving to the sink mechanically to wash the unseen blood from their hands, as they grow accustomed to nightmares where the villain revisits them... The hero sees themself slowly fading away into obscurity, their morality teetering on the precipice of something darker...

Someone in the crowd coughs, jerking the hero from their thoughts. They remember themself. "Now that they're gone..." The hero resumes, "...I don't know what to do with myself." Their throat is burning. They turn their head to the side and blink tears from their eyes, before taking a deep breath. With a shaky breath, they step away from the coffin and walk away from the funeral.

The hero would have walked straight past the villain, if not for the sudden grip on their arm. The villain tugs them off their predestined path and pulls them behind the cover of the conveniently large tree.

"Bravo," the villain says. It's only then that the hero allows themself to look up from the ground and meet their enemy's gaze. They're surprised to find the amused glimmer in the villain's eyes, the playful smile on their face. "That was rather convincing. Perhaps you should pursue acting."

"I-" I don't think I was acting, the hero thinks to themself. Imagining life without you genuinely made me feel... empty. "Ha, yeah." Their voice sounds off and the villain raises an eyebrow. There are a few moments of silence, but their enemy mercifully does not poke or prod at the subject any further.

"So," the villain drawls, burrowing their hands in their jacket pockets. The hero envies their collectedness and composure in this moment, but also worries for how unaffected they are despite it all. "I'm dead now."

"You're not dead," the hero feels the need to say. They're not sure who exactly that remark is meant for, but they have a feeling they uttered it to remind themself of the truth.

"Legally, I am," the villain points out. They cross their arms over their chest. "It's kind of freeing, in a way. Maybe I should pursue death as a long-term solution to all of my problems."

The hero's stomach lurches and everything around them seems to fall to silence. "Stop." They don't realize they've spoken until they see the villain's mask shudder around them, their eyes momentarily widening before returning to an expression of uncaring. "Stop it," the hero repeats, "I- Don't joke about something like that."

The villain regards them with interest. "Who says I'm joking?" They ask, nothing but sincerity in their voice. The hero is hit with a wave of nausea.

"That's- Please just- It's not funny. It never was." The words are crawling from their lips entirely of their own volition.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," the villain says softly, their voice almost a whisper. They're telling the truth, the hero realizes. And something in the hero just breaks. The frail string they had been hanging from simply... snaps.

"I don't want you to die," the hero finally chokes out. "Okay?" Is that what you wanted to hear—what you were trying to coax out of me? Well, I've said it. How fucking pathetic I must be, for caring."

"I wasn't acting. It was all real—real to me. I tried to imagine my life without you and I couldn't.

"I'm sorry," the hero spits, their hands shaking now. Tears are falling down their face now, blurring their vision. They feel deeply humiliated and embarrassed, especially in the wake of the villain's callous and uncaring gaze.

When they turn to leave, they don't expect a hand to fall onto their shoulder—and the hero certainly doesn't expect to be pulled into an embrace. The villain's arms wrap around them and the hero instinctively returns the gesture. Even if this is a trick, or some convoluted way to make them feel even more ashamed, they take comfort in the visceral feeling of the villain's touch and the physical confirmation that they're still alive.

"Don't apologize," the villain says, placing a hand on the nape of the hero's neck and hugging them tighter. The hero closes their eyes and leans into their enemy's shoulder. "I... I'm sorry for being so morbid." They say, an uncharacteristic depth of emotion present in their voice.

"I don't want you to die," the hero whispers into the villain's shoulder. It's a remark meant for only themself, yet their enemy hears it anyway. The villain stiffens for a moment, their shoulders tightening, before they grasp the hero with dueling tenderness and strength. Suddenly, the villain's hands are on their cheeks as the hero is pulled back to look at their enemy. The villain's gaze is determined and entirely honest.

"Then I won't die," the villain asserts. "Simple as that."

The hero knows it's illogical, knows that the villain will have to die some day—as everyone does. But the conviction in their enemy's voice is enough to dissuade them. The villain's grip is reassuring enough, real enough for the hero to breathe again.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. reblogs are appreciated, just please don't steal my writing or share outside of Tumblr.

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

[fallloverfic]

I went overboard (and kinda cheated cause some of these were just a lot smaller to nonexistent when I started posting for them, but are definitely not now), so with the caveat this is only going by Archive of Our Own stats (and also thank you to all the amazing tag wranglers who have wrangled tags that have been the only fic in that pairing/fandom for ages, small fandom authors love you so much):

Blind Men has 15 fics total, mine is the most recent (over a year after posting), and it is the fifth Hunter/Keegan work.

Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon REMIX had 5 fics before I posted the first Alex Taylor/Dolph Laserhawk fic. There are now 213 fics total and 21 Alex/Dolph fics.

It's hard to tell with this fandom because of active fandoms, backdating, and crossovers, but I posted the second fic for Castlevania: Nocturne and Mizrak/Olrox (I know because I went immediately to the tag after watching and I checked it before and after posting mine). There are now 216 fics in the fandom tag and 86 for the pairing. I also posted the second fic for Alucard/Olrox (it's been shifted out of order because another fic either backdated or added the pairing, but one reason I finally put mine up was because the only fic for the pairing at the time was one solely based on the games that predated the show by 8 years). There are now 6 fics for the pairing. I posted the third of the now 12 Olrox/Richter fics.

I created the Dorus/Styxx pairing for the Dark-Hunter Series. I still have the only fic. Dorus isn't an original character (he's a minor acquaintance in the book who meets Styxx twice), but I almost completely retconned his backstory and personality.

I started and was the entirety of the Dear Monster tag for some time (I wrote 3, there are now 4, with one published almost a year after my last fic), and I also published the only Faeryn/Allen fic.

I posted 1 of the 26 Rouxls Kaard/Mettaton fics for Deltarune/Undertale.

I posted the only Ameridan/Kordillus Drakon I fic from Dragon Age: Inquisition. I published the first Lacklon/Roland fic for Dragon Age: Absolution. There are now 19 fics. As I recall it was only like the third or fourth fic at most in the fandom tag at the time, but this is another fandom that's hard to track due to active fandoms, backdating, and crossovers.

Element of Fire has 6 fics. Mine is the most recent and I posted the only Roland Fontainon/Gideon fic. And Roland Fontainon/Falaise, but I don't fully consider that the fic focus so. I think it's also the only one that even includes Roland.

I posted 1 of the 38 Augus Each Uisge/Gwyn ap Nudd fics for Fae Tales - not_poignant. That's 1 out of 15 if you only count fanworks, since all the canon and official AUs are included in the tag. I published both the 2 fanfics for Eran Iliakambar/Mosk Manytrees (the other 4 works are all canon and an official AU). I published the only fanwork for Anika/Terho (the other fic is a canon extra).

I created the crossover pairing Wing/Murata Ugetsu for Hunter X Hunter and Given and have the only fic for it.

I posted the only tagged Clark Kent/Lewis Lane fic for My Adventures with Superman. But I can't believe there isn't something else out there for a character who's technically existed since 1980. There may be one in German and another in English that's tagged for Louis Lane, the 1980 character(s), but they both predate My Adventures with Superman by some years.

I posted 1 of the 11 fics for Brad Boimler/Jack Ransom for Star Trek: Lower Decks.

I posted the most recent 2 of the 4 Van Fanel/Allen Schezar fics for Escaflowne.

I posted the only Lisava Ormevar/Aathis Rohethar fic for The Chronicles of Osreth.

I posted the 2 most recent The Hunt fics, and all 3 fandom fics are for Hendrey/Cash (fic 1, fic 2).

I posted 1 of the 32 Link/Tauro fics. I also went looking back when I posted and at least back then I couldn't find Link/those funky tower mechanical arm tentacles, so maybe I was the first with that? Only two fics pop up when I search for them now.

This is another fandom where it's hard to track things due to active fandoms, backdating, etc., but I recall I published the second Jaskier/Radovid V fic, and maybe the first focused on the Netflix show version (the one prior to that, as I recall, was game and/or book focused). I remember being surprised there still weren't that many when I posted my second one. Pretty sure the pairing was still in the double digits. There are now 326. I published one of the first couple fics for Filavandrel aen Fidhail/Vesemir, and I believe the first or second to specifically focus on their incarnations in The Witcher: Nightmare of the Wolf. There are now 37 fics.

This isn't a pairing but I somehow published the only fanfic for the Tomb Raider Top Cow comics tag? Similarly, I started the Golden Sparkle by Minta Suzumaru tag.

I published 1 of 32 fics for Anna Valerious/Gabriel Van Helsing for Van Helsing (2004).

I published the third of 5 fics for Dietfried Bougainvillea/Claudia Hodgins from Violet Evergarden. I think the last published before mine (that's currently a WIP) one came out cause I went on a sort of hiatus while posting.

This is another fandom where it's hard to track things due to active fandoms, backdating, etc., but my fic is listed as the 9th for Rand al'Thor/Ishamael. There are now 45.

My Shutendouji/Ryo fic is the seventh and most recent fic for the pairing for Ronin Warriors. When I originally made this post, it was the sixth. I assume someone backdated a fic or retagged it.

I published the second of the now 10 Jin Marito/Tahide Outa fics for a fandom with now 82 works (Bucchigiri?!).

This is another fandom where it's hard to track things due to active fandoms, backdating, etc., but I think I posted one of the first 20 Gongyi Xiao/Zhuzhi-lang fics for The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System. There are now 96. I posted 1 of the 30 Liu Qingge/Zhuzhi-lang fics.

There are 46 works in the Kyuujitsu no Warumono-san webcomic tag and 8 in the anime tag. I think I posted the third Akatsuki Red/Shogun fic (and there are now 13), and the first Rooney/Shogun fic. There are now 3. I've posted the second of the 2 Shogun/Yoiyami Black fics.

I posted fic #4 in the See You My King/The King and Me tag, and the first Xiao Wei/Evtiti fic. There are now 2/3(?) (it's hard to tell because the tag hasn't been wrangled). I also posted the eighth and most recent Mimi/Zhang Li fic. There are 10 fics total.

I posted the first fic for Lang Qianqiu/Xiao Mengyou or Lang Qianqiu/Xiao Shiwei, but I believe the second fic about Xiao Mengyou (the first one didn't name him). There are now 12 fics in the tag.

I posted technically the second fic of the 2 for Peach Blossom Debt. The other fic is just two words that say, "Coming 2024". Mine is the only one for Song Yao/Hengwen Qingjun.

I posted the second most recent of 9 total fics for The Imperial Uncle, and it's the second for Jing Chengjun/Liu Tongyi.

I posted the most recent 2 of still 3 fics for The Deer King, which includes 1 of 2 fics for Hohsalle Yuguraul/Van Gansa, and the only fic for Hohsalle Yuguraul/Makokan.

I posted the still only fic for Joseph Huh/Yongsoo Ahn in a fandom that I think had a lot fewer fics before mine back when I posted it, but it has 55 now. I am using the official English translation spellings. I'm not sure what Ao3 is using.

I posted one of now 9 total fics for Choi Jong-In/Sung Jin-Woo in Solo Leveling.

I posted the second and most recent fic for Jaehwan/Karlton Javier for The World After the Fall. The fandom tag has 31 fics now.

I've posted 2 of the 15 fics for Anubis/Khnum in ENNEAD (fic 1, fic 2).

I've posted apparently the second of 3 works tagged for Lee Hakhyun/Yoo Joonghyuk for Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint.

I've posted the second of two fics for Chronos/Zagreus in the Hades fandom. I've posted the only Heracles/Icarus fic. I posted the first of now 10 total Odysseus/Moros fics.

For Blood of Zeus, I've posted the latest of 5 fics for Apollo/Seraphim. I posted the last two Seraphim/Heron fics in the 10 fic tag (fic 1, fic 2).

Not a ship, but I posted the first Mithrun & Milsiril fic for Delicious in Dungeon.

I'm currently writing a series of non-existent ships in the Ayashi no Ceres tag. Thus far I've posted one for Alec/Ryurik and another for Alec/Kagami. I have five others planned, all for unique ships that have zero fics. The only m/m fic in the fandom tag is only tagged for characters from another series.

I've written two of the 12 Lawrence Bluewer/Edgar Redmond fics for Kuroshitsuji (fic 1, fic 2).

For The Sea Beast (2022), I wrote one of the five Jacob Holland/Original Character fics, and the only tagged Jacob Holland/The Surgeon fics.

For BoJack Horseman, I've written one of the 69 BoJack Horseman/Mr. Peanutbutter fics.

For Bridgerton, I've written the only Anthony Bridgerton/Lord Lumley fic.

For Epic: The Musical, I wrote one of now seven Eurylochus/Odysseus fics.

For Dark Rise, I've written one of 46 Anharion/Sarcean fics.

Reblog and put your rare pair in the tags/comments! I want to see the depths people will go to create, for the most random two characters in the most obscure media.

[ovaryacted]

WISH YOU KNEW || MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader

SERIES SUMMARY: After coming into Wade’s world following their team effort to save his timeline, Logan attempts to adjust to his new reality. In rebuilding his life from the ground up, your paths collide when he least expects it, throwing him off course. Despite knowing he’s a walking red flag, he can’t deny how you draw him in, and he wonders how close he can get before his fairytale falls apart.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Eventual smut. Foul language. Alcohol Consumption. Worst! Logan / Variant! Logan. Age Gap implied [Logan is his canon age, reader is mid to late 20s]. Friends to lovers w/Logan. Developing feelings & crushes. Sort-of Slow Burn. Mutual Pining. Dating & Courting. Wade Wilson plays matchmaker. Established friendship w/Wade Wilson. Angst. Emotionally constipated Logan. Miscommunications & arguments. Depictions of self-sabotage, doubt, and anxiety. Takes place after the events of the Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) movie. Mentions of other characters. Each chapter has additional warnings and context; heed the tags.

A/N: So, this idea has been brewing for a while, and now that I have it more laid out, I want to share it with everyone. I hope you all join me for the ride, and thank you for being here. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 

➣ Masterlist aesthetics are subject to change. All chapters are not shown.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

▹ CH. 1 - KISS THE GIRL

▹ CH. 2 - TBA

▹ CH. 3 - TBA

↳ more to be added…

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[thatdeadaquarius]

HELP I JUST HAD A THOUGH

WHAT IF

What if....

Blunt reader became a harbinger

I have NO idea how that would go but im here for the crack lol

I BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-

(and to use this gif more importantly they're all so hot here lol)

Sun: Reader (you/they/them), Blunt Language AU :D

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, crack treated srsly (yes im using ao3 tags atp)

Stars: Harbingers!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

SO thought I’d update anyone missing out bc of the new year but-

I made this silly thing called Blunt Language AU, that was my 1st post for this blog/fandom actually! :D

I’ll link it here, but TLDR: it’s just our modern speech sounding “ancient” to the Teyvatians, who speak really flowery/fluffy/lots of context in comparison!

That’s all you rlly need to know to read this I think, so enjoy! :)

☆

u fall into Genshin Impact, and Snezhnaya is where you land first type of energy lol

weird golden star falling from the sky? that sounds like a prophecy the Tsaritsa knows abt alright

so they sent Childe, one of the friendliest (if not The Friendliest) Harbinger, to see if it was a valid claim you’d finally descended,

and ofc as soon as the redhead heard you try and talk to him, he knew the claims by the small village nearby (who had taken u in from the cold weather/taken care of you) were legit

pantalone did manage to squeeze some examples of what you’d possibly sound like into his head before he left so while Childe personally has a tough time talking to you, it doesn't mean he’s not willing to try!! >:)

he mostly just kept asking questions forever until he understood what you meant, and as soon he got u were asking abt the Tsaritsa, the other Harbingers, himself, even how to get Sneznayan-made clothes lol

he was like: 👀👀👀???!!!!

it wasn't so much recruitment at first as it was “omg the exalted one wishes to learn abt us, the Tsaritsa and her Harbingers? abt me?? well would your highness like to come to our palace perchance???!!!!”

= have u ever been seduced and worshipped by a god and her country?? would you like to- ??? ← Childe actually

and with that convinces you to come straight to the Harbingers/Tsaritsa’s very home

No, you’re not just spoiled.

No, you’re not just pampered.

You are cosseted and coveted.

The Tsaritsa makes her first in person appearance to the people in decades to personally announce your return, and to get a festival going to literally parade you into the capital lol

And tbh it was kind of shocking how quickly the people of Snezhnaya are able to whip out the party supplies, within days of traveling via horses/sleds/carriage/trains all kinds of transportation, u arrived at the capital in full swing of a parade for you

The Tsaritsa herself in what looks like a genshin-ified kokoshnik, the elaborate headress draped with a veil so thin it looks like frost covering her face,

flocked on either side by her harbingers in full (kinda goth) ceremonial outfits waiting on your arrival too

needless to say you are properly smitten intimidated

and you stay nervous around them for the first few days or so,

that is before you run into the weekly, what you would call “family dinner nights”, but they call “dinner reports”…

in which Childe, the only one you’d been comfortable enough around to be a bit more genuine to, and surprisingly the only one to quickly adapt to your speech after traveling with you for days, would translate for you what tf you were saying to them vs. what everyone at the table was saying to you/around you

you would also like to propose other titles for these weekly dinner meetings you’re invited to, aka “family feud dinner night/family fight night/harbinger on harbinger hate night/fruit on fruit crimes, if you will” 💀

the Tsaritsa is just peacefully talking to you abt any and everything, bc ofc Pierro’s on her right, and ur on her left

(she and Pierro are surprisingly soft spoken, very polite, and able to say something interesting/take an interest in whatever subject you all end up on)

u don't think you've ever been more comfortable and on such equal footing around ppl sm older than you (what are older ppl to you, but to them ur literally fucking eldritch with how ancient u are, and u can tell with how they treat u like it lmao)

hard cut back to the rest of the table:

an argument that just gets louder and louder has broken out between Childe, Dottore, La Signora, and Pantalone abt who should get free time with you first/get to do smth with you first as you get over ur adjustment period here, Childe has taken his butter knife to throw and just barely missed Dottore’s eye, and it is now embedded in the back of his fancy chair (the servants placing down dinner courses just move abt w/the most bored expressions on their faces)

(u send half the table if this group gets out of hand and u just: “Please shut the fuck up, each of ur comebacks take 30 minutes and it’s killing me” 💀 bc they're the most likely to understand u too, even Pierro/Capitano/Pulcinella chuckle a little, and u think the Tsaritsa smirked under her veil)

ur honestly too scared to see what Scarmouche, Sandrone, and Arlecchino are arguing about, because they're arguing so silently further down the table. They have murder in their eyes.

Columbina and Capitano are having a peaceful collab over weapons, armor, and clothing to offer you, Pulcinella is close enough to both participate in that convo and in you, Pierro, and the Tsaritsa’s convos too

by the 2nd week you've decided to choose chaos, and get them to play board games together sometimes (they cant all make it all the time, tbh u don't know if u can handle that either) but groups of them will play at a time

u remembered early on what a dick Dottore was, and sentenced asked if he’d like to play this new board game called “Monopoly” from ur world with Childe, Pantalone, Pierro, Arlecchino, La Signora, and Scaramouche all together :)

(so what ur trying to bring khaenri’ah part 2 down on his head as punishment?? u owe scara and collei that at least)

Columbina is more than happy to help get you Harbinger-like clothes to wear since ur so interested in the style!! (yes yesss get converted, she already has a title picked out for you)

she also giggles anytime u talk abt whether u like an outfit or not, bc u just “no thank you I’d rather wear a trash bag than that shirt, but lets try another?”

meanwhile the tailors in the background u could literally edit them to one of those videos where it just zooms in on their faces with a vine boom of shock

like Pierro, ur unranked, just above the other Harbingers really, as it wouldn't do to make you the 12th Harbinger or smth

the names they gave you being, “The Playwright” or “The Renaissance” or even “Drammaturgo”

(pls anyone who speaks Italian correct if I'm wrong ToT )

ok but the first time, unsurprisingly, one of them got snappy with you, likely Scara I would think,

Scaramouche, pissy: “And what shall we do if it appears our almighty god is perhaps a descender who is entirely human? Why I dare say you’d be transgressing on privileges that were never yours to begin with!”

Every other Harbinger, the Tsaritsa herself, the servants, the frost on the walls: 😶😦😨😶‍🌫️

You, unbothered, still eating and fully expecting this moment: “I don't want to hear it from someone who has god-mommy issues. You shouldn’t have an opinion about me, ur biased.”

yeah, so obviously, they’re emotionally all attached now whether they know it or not, and this was of course the moment they realized they're god would fit in so perfectly here

(the other nations are going to have to pry you from Snezhnaya from their cold dead hands, esp since u now have legal deniability to visit bc ur technically a Harbinger, only commanded by her majesty lol)

(Scaramouche, Arlecchino, and Sandrone were fighting about who gets the room nearest to your quarters lol)

(Capitano won, somehow??)

☆

sorry ive been slow lately guys, been just trying to work on alllll the fics these past weeks/days/however long its been??

anyway had the shift from hell last week so wish me luck with work this week if u see this 😭

hope u enjoyed this old ask/crack treated srsly post orah!! :D

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[andcars]

MASTERLIST . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3 REQUESTS : 10 / 15

──── 🗒 request me on my inbox! i don’t do custom prompts but i will update this list occassionally and you’re free to mix up the prompts however you please. take in mind that i'm mostly available on the weekends so it may take a while for me to finish in fics! especially if it's socmed fics [ SOME OF THESE TAGS MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME ] a '★' is placed before a potentially triggering tag as i cannot add a spoiler texts on tumblr. there are six potentially triggering tags in this.

INSTRUCTIONS . . . # you can select multiple dialogue prompts as well as multiple tags! for the additional tags/car model. for multiple tags, simply put a dash (-) between them! (1A4B-0112). for drivers ship requests, please specify which one bottoms (if nsfw, ofc) by saying they're 'in the passenger seat'. or the top is 'driving'.

EXAMPLES . . . # 'max verstappen on a porsche and rolls royce , 1A1E-2714. it's for a race!' ── (translates to: max verstappen "i don't wanna seem like a stalker..." + "remember your safe word..." tags: masc/bottom reader + famous reader + obsessive behaviour)

'lewis hamilton and max verstappen on a honda and a lambo, model 072936 w/ max on the passenger seat!' ── (translates to: max verstappen/lewis hamilton "you want me to beg..." + "you were fast years ago..." tags: rivalry + one night stand + power imbalance with bottom max)

( 💋 ) DRIVERS

#33 Max Verstappen

#44 Lewis Hamilton

#63 George Russell

#3 Daniel Ricciardo

#16 Charles Leclerc

#2 Logan Sargeant

#81 Oscar Piastri

#55 Carlos Sainz

#43 Franco Colapinto

#87 Ollie Bearman

#333 Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo

#3344 Max Verstappen/Lewis Hamilton

#3316 Max Verstappen/Charles Leclerc

#POLYDRIVE Driver/Driver/You (basically just put your ship here!)

( 🏎️ ) CAR BRAND / dialogue prompts

PORSCHE “I don’t wanna seem like a stalker but… I think I know you”

HARLEY-DAVIDSON “Mommy/Daddy… it’s my first time so please—!”

BMW “I still remember the way you taste”

ASTON MARTIN “You're not usually my type but fuck, you look so good"

JAGUAR “Do you like scary movies?”

FERRARI “He was just my summer boy”

AUDI “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it”

BENTLEY “We can run away together. Somewhere far away”

CHEVROLET “Don’t you ever think that there is anything that I will ever put in front of you”

LAMBORGHINI "You were fast years ago. You know that rookies like me always prove themselves to be better, right?"

MASERATI "You've been staring for a while"

FORD "Don't go... not yet, not now, preferably"

NISSAN "I wish things were different"

TRIUMP "We'll only be caught if you're loud"

HONDA "You want me to beg? I don't think a winner should beg"

MERCEDES-BENZ "This is a strange request, but can you pretend we're dating for a while?"

BUGATTI "Wait, you're famous?"

ROLLS ROYCE "Remember your safe word, because I'm not fucking stopping"

ALFA ROMEO "It seems like we've got a bit of teammate rivalry happening"

LEXUS "Almost forgot I'm getting paid"

CHRYSLER "I didn't mean it but I did, in fact, kinda reveal us to the public"

CADILLAC "It's complicated."

ACURA "You wanted to be seen? You wanted to be caught? You're so fucking turned on right now."

LAND ROVER "Take it slow—shit! You're eager"

GENESIS "You came" "You called"

( 🍒 ) CAR MODEL / additional tags

1A male/masc reader (he/him)

1B female/femme (she/her)

1C gender neutral/nonbinary/androgynous (they/them)

1D top!reader

1E bottom!reader

1F dominant reader

1G submissive reader

01 breeding kink

02 sugar daddy

03 daddy kink

04 age gap

05 degradatory kink

06 praise kink

07 rivalry

08 secret relationship

09 leaked sex tape

★ 10 non-consensual

★ 11 dubious consent

12 size kink

13 bareback/unprotected sex

★ 14 obsessive behaviour

15 virginity kink

16 anal sex

17 vaginal sex

18 body worship

19 consensual drugging

★ 20 non-consensual drugging

21 alternate universe — not f1 drivers

22 pining

23 friends with benefits

24 scent kink

★ 25 infidelity

26 alternate universe — cam/porn/sex worker

27 famous!reader

28 just the tip

29 one night stand

30 omegaverse

31 porn tropes

32 pregnancy

★ 33 mind break

34 touch starved

35 teammate!reader

36 power imbalance

37 thigh fucking

38 public sex

39 semi-public sex

40 baby fever

41 jealousy

42 riding

43 cum play/inflation

44 face sitting

00 andi's choice/surprise me!

( 🍒 ) PURPOSE / type of fic

FOR A RACE WEEKEND fanfic

DISPLAY socmed and/or texts

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . please do not harass any requesters, especially if they request a tag that triggers you. again, do not engage in content you know that you will not like. my blog is a safe space for everyone and i do not shame anyone, and i hope you do the same as well. ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

[tsukimefuku]

the letter ꕥ higuruma hiromi

summary: reader writes a letter for an absentee. one that she will never send.

tags: f!reader, implied past relationship, higuruma x reader, angst, break up, longing and general heartbreak.

wc: 1k

notes etc.: this is actually my original style of writing in my native language before i began writing in 2nd(?) + 3rd person pov on ao3 and tumblr this year. it’s different from what I’ve written so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it. the style translation was hard, holy shirt. song → shake it out (florence + the machine).

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

i like to keep my issues drawn ꕥ it’s always darkest before the dawn

I was debating if I should start this with “hey, Hiromi”, “hi, Higuruma”, “dear” something, and I still haven’t arrived at an answer. The first sounds too casual for what we have become — and what are we now if not strangers? The second, however, is just too impersonal, and I don’t need such a stinging reminder of how much I’m not entitled to your first name anymore. At last, “dear” to start a letter is just tacky.

Alas, I digress.

I don’t quite know what possessed me to pick up a pen and a piece of paper (analogical, just like you’ve noted me to be) to blurt out the swirling hurts in my mind, but I guess I still had a lot to say, even if you weren’t here long enough to hear it.

Here goes nothing.

You might be wondering how I’m doing (at least I hope so), so I thought I’d let you know.

Tonight, more specifically, I’ve been for an insurmountable stretch of time — were it hours? Minutes? Days? Out of my priorities, tracking time has not been one of them — staring at the empty vacuum making its presence known by my side. It seems to mock my stare, that longs, against all odds, for a miracle — for you to simply materialize right there, out of thin air.

Seriously, you should see the mess you’ve made when you left.

You left an emptiness of shoes, black suits, wet towels on the bed, cup marks on the furniture, scratches of morning beard, warm legs under the covers — an emptiness of body that has been giving me nightmares. You came in, flipped everything upside down, blew up my walls and made so that every edge, vertex, color and smell of this heart and bones surrounding our leftover life would incessantly scream for you.

It’s like my misery extended beyond myself and resoundingly expanded against the walls of this house.

But… even though I wish you were here with every tiny part of myself, I couldn’t ask for you to stay. I know it wouldn’t be fair. You’d never ask me to betray myself, and the least I could do was to love you in the same earnest way. 

You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you didn’t go. I wouldn’t be the person you loved if I asked you not to (I apologize for the past tense, it’s one of those truthless comforts I’ve decided to give myself for the time being).

You still linger here, though. I still keep your gaze close to my chest, your face pressed against my skin, your warm voice caressing the edge of my ear and your hair stroking through my fingers, even if it’s just my soul pretending for a minute.

A long minute.

You know, it has been hell without you here. The couch cushions wrap around me like your arms, the bed always bounces by the time you used to get up, and the kitchen smells like your favorite take-out meals (because God knows we’d set fire to this building if we so much as dared turning that stove top on). The window reflects two back at me when only one is looking at it, and my hiking boots are dearly missing those black oxford shoes. My coat hanging on the edge of the closet is also dearly missing your crumpled black ties sprinkled around the room (of course you took weeks to properly wash and organize them — when you ever did).

Oh, and the bed.

The bed is just not the same without that stupid, ridiculous blotch of water your towel would always leave on it.

A huge chunk of our house is missing.

I know I can’t let my selfishness kidnap you from what you need to do — and I do know you need it. But damn, sometimes it’s hard to fight the urge of hopping on the first train your way, grabbing you by your wrist and asking you to become once again part of my wallpaper, my duvet, my pillows. Just promise me you’ll make all of this pain worthwhile, even if you ran away with ten thirds of me.

Ever since you left, though, I learned a few tricks to mask your ever so present absence. I can pull the pillows towards the middle of the bed, eat in the living room and read in the kitchen, being sure to slowly put all my pieces back in place. 

It’s harder to notice an empty chair across the table when you willingly choose to sit on the ground.

However, I didn’t want to do that. Not today. Call it insanity, clarity, or just meet me in my madness like you always so kindly did.

Today, I wanted to let you invade me, come into my house with my full permission and go on turning everything upside down once more. That way, I can almost feel you there. To me, at least for now, that’s good enough (or as good as I know it’s gonna get).

Your muted way of sharing our space could be so, so silent. That quietude brought me the deepest of peaces.

Unfortunately, I never anticipated the silence from your absence would be so loud, and not peaceful at all. It has been hammering at my breathless heart for days. 

I miss you.

I love you, too.

***

With a sigh, you put the pen down and stared at the paper sheet for a minute, your own calligraphy so foreign with a pain you hadn’t let out properly ever since Hiromi… actually, Higuruma stepped out that morning.

Considering your options, you resigned, and pulled the letter in a crinkled messy ball, tossing it in the garbage can.

No need to talk to a voluntary absentee. No need to bother him, either.

You got yourself back up and picked up two pairs of keys, the blue buttoned shirt and made your way out of the apartment, not failing to hear the rumbling echo the door made when it slammed closed.

An echo that only happens in truly empty places.

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Six: Epilogue

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART FIVE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never really thought about Wanda other than the fact that she's your best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. It just wasn't in the realm of possibilites, so you never let yourself develop feelings. At least until someone points out that you have a very specific type when it comes to dating, so maybe it is all subconscious? Reader's POV

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: Mini Series is completed! Thank you so much for tagging along with me <3 Explicit version available in a week.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~3.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You rarely think about sentences that could change your life.

There are too many instances that could change your life; therefore, it would be moot to think about.

You have a terminal illness. 

You've won 69 million dollars.

Someone you love has horrifically died—no, there were no remains.

It's all too overwhelming to think about; therefore, you don't. Yet, somehow, if you ever did think about life-changing sentences, you didn't think it could ever be, "Hey, have you noticed how you seem to exclusively date girls who look like Wanda?"

And it was like the ground crumbled underneath you. It was such a sickening realization—not that Wanda was in any way sickening—it was the fact that you might just be subconsciously a pervert. 

The more you thought about the words, the more horrifying it became. Every one-night stand, every situationship, every girlfriend—god, they all looked like Wanda. 

You're too scared to think about it deeper in fear of what it would reveal subconsciously every time you kissed or fucked a girl. Were you thinking of Wanda? God, you just couldn't think about it.

This was all Bucky's fault. You wished you had never gone out onto that balcony that night. 

3 months prior to that night at the bar with Wanda & Steve

The cool air felt better, and the breeze settled on the back of your neck. There was definitely too much wine going around, and you only managed to escape as Tony brought out the hard liquor. 

The crowd dispersed after several shots you didn't partake in. You stared into the distance, thinking idly how Tony had way too much money. Old money was ridiculous. Why does someone need a garden fountain as big as a pool?

Movement caught the corner of your eye, and you saw Wanda and Vision walking through the dimly lit garden. You smiled fondly at your best friend as she laughed at whatever charming thing Vision had managed to say. 

Vision was...just okay, in your opinion. You thought he was too nonchalant about Wanda, and that was why they were so on and off rather than consistently being together. Wanda deserved someone who loved her fiercely, and you couldn't imagine Vision always putting Wanda first. 

You watched with slight melancholy when Wanda linked her arms through his as they sat on the ledge of the garden fountain. You wished you had also brought someone along for this party. 

"Hey, thought I saw you sneak out here."

You turned around and saw Bucky holding a glass of beer. You smirked at him with mirth. "You know what I must do when Tony starts bringing out the grey goose."

Bucky shuddered, clearly having been roped into a few shots. He came and stood next to you, catching the scene you were staring at. "Guess they're back on then?"

You shrugged. "Guess so. We'll see how long it lasts. I'm betting 3 months."

"Be realistic. It'll be 2 and a half months," Bucky snorted. 

"Ye of little faith," you teased and then sighed. "I wish I also brought someone along. I should've brought that girl I met at my photoshoot."

"The brunette with green eyes?" Bucky asked, and you nod. "You know what I've noticed?"

"Hm?" you hummed in response to Bucky's casual tone. 

"You seem to have a very specific type when it comes to dating," Bucky mused. "They're always brunette—save those two girls from university—and they always have green eyes." 

You furrow your brows in serious thought. "I suppose so."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, his tone still casual. "They always remind me of Wanda, especially from the back. I always have to make sure I'm careful not to mix up your date with Wanda." 

Bucky ended it with a chuckle, stating he was getting cold before he left without another world, leaving you alone outside.

The connect dots snapped into place almost instantly, horrifying you as you continued to stare at Wanda from above. 

Oh, fuck. 

Maybe it was a good thing you didn't bring anyone tonight. You're not sure how you'd be able to take someone home into your bed with the daunting realization you go after girls who look like your best friend...because you actually want your best friend. 

The three months since that discovery had nearly driven you to insanity. Since you refused to talk to anyone about it, most of your thought process was, " Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no."

But in the end, you resolved that it couldn't happen. Wanda would never reciprocate your feelings in a million years, especially since she had Vision. Wanda occasionally even talked about the possibility of marrying him down the road. 

It wasn't happening. It was never going to happen. 

Wanda was more important to you than anyone in the whole entire world. You would never allow anything to risk the friendship—even your feelings. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You felt like a sick sexual deviant. 

Despite your resolve to bury your feelings and continue on as normal, it was getting increasingly weird to continue to see girls who looked like Wanda. Yet, you couldn't stop. It wasn't doing it for you otherwise. 

But now, every time you kissed a girl, all you could see was Wanda in her. Sex was beginning to become a guilty pleasure for all the wrong reasons. 

When you met Raye, it felt like another sinful thing to lust after, knowing how much she physically reminded you of Wanda. But you could see a big personality difference in the short time you spent chatting with Raye. 

Wanda was the type you spoiled, indulging in her strange, wacky ideas. She could be very emotional, swinging from one side of the spectrum to another. She had such a big heart, willing to love, but also held grudges and was wicked if crossed. Wanda was a brat in all the loving ways you could mean. 

Raye could be best described as emotionally consistent. On the surface, she portrayed a wicked sense of humor and was fun to be around, but she was much more guarded than Wanda. She was very independent, not liking anything that might even intrude on her freedom. Raye kept her true feelings close to herself and seemed to be teasing you to come find out. 

It was different. You didn't mind, maybe liking it even (purely in the sense it was the opposite of Wanda, and you couldn't afford to keep lusting after your best friend in all possible ways).

Even so, your mind was distracted on the first date.

"Have you ever done a boudoir photoshoot?" Raye asks, her tone low and seductive.

"Can't say that I have," you smile, trying to remind yourself to be present during the date. It's been long since you've properly wined and dined someone, and Wanda kept entering your thoughts. 

"Well, there's a first for everything and you might even have a willing model," Raye bit her bottom lip suggestively, her index finger stroking the back of your hand. 

And while the southern twang does stir something in you, and you feel your stomach tingling, you're very aware that it's because Raye physically reminds you of Wanda. So, your mind traitorously imagines Wanda biting her lip and saying seductive things to you. 

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

You whip your head around, swearing you heard Wanda. When there was no sign of her, you furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to Raye.

Was this a sign of insanity?

You resolve right then and there to focus on the lovely brunette before you and enjoy the date. It was easy enough if you relaxed and earnestly asked Raye questions about herself. 

It was easy enough to hold Raye's hand and swing it back and forth if you just thought about how warm they were. 

It was enough to giggle when Raye leaned in closer to whisper something silly or naughty in your ear if you just thought about how her breath felt on the shell of your ear.

Suddenly, the car next to you went off, the alarm beeping loudly enough to make you and Raye jump in surprise. You turned around and noticed the couple behind you were gone. You thought they looked slightly familiar, but it was too difficult to determine when they were so far away in the dark under passing streetlights. 

Ultimately, you walk Raye up her steps, unsure what you want your next move to be. Everything feels strange since the revelation. You feel guilty for your lust, but specifically what causes it. 

But when Raye pulled you in for a hot, searing kiss, you decided to just go with the flow...which also ended up being nothing as she got a call from her sister while clothes were discarded. 

The call was only bordering on 40 seconds, but you decided your momentum was lost, and you needed that momentum to have sex with someone else while you tried (unsuccessfully) to not think about Wanda. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Fuck. Darcy.

Those were the only words that could come to your mind after Wanda texted her vague answer about whether or not she was returning home tonight. 

You sighed as you scrolled through the videos and photos, trying to get a headstart on putting together the video for Tony and Pepper. As you began opening up files, many were corrupted by the inability to open or glitchy images. 

With another sigh, your chair scraped against the floor as you shifted back, pulling out your phone and shooting a quick text to the videographer asking if you could meet up tomorrow to get the SD card for the originals. You got a prompt reply with a thumbs-up emoji with a time and place. 

You thought you might've just heard something shuffle in your room, but you forget about it when it's quiet again.

In the end, you spent another 45 minutes scrolling through some other photos that weren't corrupted, catching Wanda in the background and staring with a lingering thought about how absolutely pretty she was.

A part of you was in disbelief that Wanda was interested in women. You had so many questions that still lingered, but you didn't want to push Wanda or make it seem like you were interrogating her, and she needed to prove it.  

Still, you wondered what exactly made Wanda come to terms with the fact that she liked women.

Specifically, why couldn't you be the reason she was interested in women? You shoved those forbidden feelings down, beating them back into its box to put away. 

It didn't matter. 

It shouldn't matter.

You're with Raye, and Wanda may be with Darcy. Or some other girl, or maybe even with a guy again.

It's just not going to be you. 

And that's okay, you tell yourself. You can love someone without having to pursue anything. You just want to be there for Wanda. 

Of course, all of this changed the moment you watched a slanted confession video from an unaware Wanda while your roommate was out for lunch with a client.

Shock is the only thing that registers upon the video finishing. Were you hallucinating again? Was this like the first date with Raye where you kept thinking you could hear or see glimpses of Wanda?

But you played the video over and over, blinking every time it was finished.

Then a burst of strange laughter bubbled from your mouth, and then horror dawned on you that, 'oh, fuck. She actually feels the same way.'

It was unclear whether or not Wanda was trying to let her feelings be known or if she was also facing the same issue as you, where she was suppressing them. Either way, Wanda would unlikely be brave enough to say anything soon. 

You spent the week humming and hawing about what pursuing a relationship with your best friend would mean. What would the consequences be if things didn't work out? What would the consequences be if you declined to pursue anything more despite if Wanda confessed? What would the consequences be to watch Wanda move on and love someone else?

Your stomach dropped. 

You needed to break up with Raye. 

Your stomach dropped. 

You wait 3 more days before confronting Wanda since she's clearly a chicken.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You knew you had feelings for me for at least 3 months?" Wanda screeches. "And you said nothing?!"

"Okay, relax, you banshee," you wince at the sound. "How is that the only thing you hung onto out of everything I just told you?"

"But...but!" Wanda narrows her eyes on you. "It was getting serious with Raye!"

"Serious?" you raise your brow at Wanda. "What gave you the idea it was getting serious? We were dating but I saw her maybe a few days out of a month with how much she flies out for work."

"So, it wasn't getting serious at all?" Wanda frowns.

"Well," you purse your lips. "Maybe for Raye. She was considering transferring to another department so she wouldn't have to fly out anymore."

Wanda's mouth hangs open, her face pale with the worst thoughts of what might've been if they never confessed their feelings.

"Which," you cut in like you're able to read her mind, "obviously, I told her to not do as I wanted to end things with her."

"How did she take it?" Wanda asks curiously.

You look uncomfortable as you shift in bed, but Wanda waits patiently. "I think she just emotionally shut down. There were no tears, no screaming, or any accusations about why I was ending things. She just looked impassive as she accepted it and asked me to leave."

"Oh," Wanda bit her bottom lip. She feels bad in a way, but not bad enough to regret making you hers. "I'm sorry, bug."

You sigh as you reach over and pull Wanda close, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. The blanket shifts down, exposing Wanda's neck and collarbone where you had unabashedly marked up.

"Now, are you done with the questions, or can we resume where we left off?" You ask mischievously, pressing languid kisses against the side of her neck. 

Wanda closes her eyes with a soft hum, pressing her body closer to yours until you shift and move over Wanda. 

"I notice that you didn't mention anything about Darcy."

"Mention what exactly?" You say between kisses, stroking Wanda's hip. "That I was insanely jealous and wished her ill? Although, now that I know it was a fake date and neither of you had interest in each other, she seems nice."

Wanda laughs. "Even after she hacked your laptop?"

"With your help, might I remind you," you pull up and pointedly look at her. "But if she never corrupted those wedding files, I would've never got the original SD card and found out about your feelings."

"Very true," Wanda muses as she throws her head around your neck and pulls you close. She pecks your lips charmingly. "We should get her a nice bottle of wine."

"What about Steve and Bucky."

Wanda scoffs. "They're meddling little school girls who are probably kicking their feet and giggling."

You can't help but laugh before you dive in for another kiss, eager but slow. Oh, man. You were going to love Wanda for the rest of your life.

After a moment, Wanda sighs. "Okay, fine. We can give our McDonald's coupons to Steve and Bucky."

You laugh again. "Alright, brat."

"Okay, stinky."

"Chicken."

"Stupid."

"Witch."

"Here we go again with that," Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. "I'll have you know that if I were a witch, I'd be the most powerful and best witch ever."

"I bet you would," you agree very readily. "Instead of cursing people to death, you'd be saving their lives...or causing mass chaos. Huh, I guess that's not so different from now." 

Wanda scoffs indignantly before she starts tickling you. You laugh, trying to jerk away, but Wanda is persistent in keeping you in place. 

"Mercy!" You laugh as you roll to the side. 

"Take that back! I do not cause chaos!"

"I take it back! You're clearly an A-List superhero!"

Wanda continues to tickle you anyway. "Say you love me!"

"I love you!"

Only then does Wanda stop, grinning wickedly as she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and you're breathing heavily.

You want to call her a menace, but you're afraid that will only result in another tickle fight. 

Wanda smiles warmly.

"I love you, too."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"See, I told you Wanda would be the one to confess!" Steve smirks.

"That's because you're a little cheater who went and nudged Wanda along," Bucky rolls his eyes with a smile.

"Oh, yeah, like you're the perfect picture of fair," Steve narrows his eyes. "Don't think I don't know that you went to Bug first. I had to step in and nudge Wanda to make the odds even."

"Was it really Wanda who confessed when it was Bug who technically discovered her secret."

Steve seems to think about it before he slumps into the sofa, "I feel like that's a gray area." Then, Steve frowns. "Ugh, but then that means neither of us wins the bet."

"We can just call it even," Bucky shrugs, laying his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Oh, no," Steve shakes his head. "I won't let you wriggle out of our bet. We will watch all the Lord of the Rings movies if you lose."

Bucky groans loudly. "But there's so many and they're so long."

"You really think I want to watch the Star Wars movies?" Steve rolls his eyes.

"They're a classic!" Bucky argues.

"So is Lord of the Rings."

Bucky huffs but concedes. "Fine," he wrinkles his nose. "Should we bet on something else?"

"No, I like the thrill of two people getting together, even if it takes time. Besides, we have the time since we have to finish a whole bunch of shows," Steve says.

"Hm, which ones of our friends are due to get together?" Bucky muses.

"We could try Nat and Maria," Steve suggests.

"No, too hard since Maria doesn't live here," Bucky shakes his head and then offers, "Yelena and Kate?"

"I think they're actually already together," Steve furrows his brows. "But if they're not, I'm too scared of Yelena to get involved in her affairs."

"I think that's all our friends who are technically single with a viable date option," Bucky sighs.

Silence falls between them before Steve suggests, "Want to bet when Tony and Pepper will announce they're pregnant?"

They stare at each other for a moment before they yell out their guess at the same time. 

"6 months!"

"6 months!"

The silliness of it all leaves Steve and Bucky giggling. 

[2baabbies]

🖤 Knee Socks (Changbin x Reader) 🖤

Crossposted under 2Babbies on Ao3 <3

(decided to crosspost this today for all the changbin fuckers, I hope you like it 🫶🏻)

Pairings: established frenemies changbin x reader, to lovers

Words: 4100

Summary: Changbin stops by uninvited to pick up the jacket you borrowed from him. You are annoyed that he has interrupted your down time on your day off, but maybe he’ll find a way to make it up to you?

(inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song!!)

Humour + Fluff + Smut

afab + fem!reader

CWs: reader and binnie are mean and they swear at each other but they actually looove each other, playful insults are thrown around, picking on your crush to hide your real feelings??, jokes about murderers/getting murdered, gamer girl!reader, changbin projects on reader based on how she’s dressed (but they’re both down bad so it’s fine)

Smut Tags: taunting/teasing, explicit consent because consent is sexy, big dick changbin, changbin sock fetish, slight dom dynamics but reader and bin are both kind of switches in this one, changbin going down on reader, some edging, vaginal fingering, begging, praise, slight degradation, handjob, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, confessions during sex

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

The fourth phone call in three minutes prompts some concern, so you forfeit your competitive match to give the caller your full attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you doing?” Changbin responds casually.

“I’m trying to rank. Is something wrong?”

“Rank? Christ, are you playing that stupid game again?”

“Felix is two whole levels above me!”

“… So?”

“Felix isn’t even good, he’s not allowed to be two levels higher than me!”

There is a pause on the other end and you think he may have hung up before he speaks.

“So that’s what you’re doing? Wasting your day away on your computer?”

“Why are you complaining? I went out with you and Chan last night. And I don’t have another day off for two weeks, so I have to grind as much as I can today. And fyi, you’re putting me at a disadvantage. I just left a match to answer your stupid call because I thought you were getting murdered or something. That could’ve been a win.”

“You think I would call you if I was getting murdered?”

“Yeah, I think you would. You know why? Because you’re stupid.”

“Hey hey hey, be nice.”

“What do you want? You’re wasting my precious time.”

“You stole my jacket last night, e-girl, I’m here to get it back.”

“I’m not an e-girl- wait, you’re here? Right now?”

“Wasting away in the lobby. Waiting for someone to come and murder me.”

You stand up from your chair and pad out of your room to your intercom. You hang up your phone and shout into the speaker.

“Quit loitering, shithead!”

“Fuck you!” Changbin shouts back.

You unlock your apartment door then buzz him in.

“Doors are unlocked. Your jacket is on the couch. Get your shit and get out.”

You hear him giggle maniacally as he opens the now unlocked lobby door and roll your eyes before returning to your bedroom. You quickly queue for a new match and put your headphones on. You join in immediately and the sound of Changbin entering your apartment is drowned out by the sounds of the game. You think you hear him say something from the other room but you opt to ignore him to maintain your kill streak. The match ends with a win and Changbin startles you as he speaks up beside you.

“You have an addiction, you know that right?”

You pull your headphones down and glare at him.

“Dude! What are you still doing here?”

“Look at this,” He picks up one of the many empty energy drink cans scattered across your desk, “You’re going to have a goddamn heart attack. I told you to lay off these. And your desk is a mess!”

“Shut up! Why are you in here?”

“You left your door unlocked. Not safe. That’s how murderers get in.”

You groan.

“Stop lecturing me! You were two minutes coming up, at most.”

“Yeah, but what if I wasn’t? And what if there was a murderer who was waiting just outside your door? Did you think of that, Ms. Noise-Cancelling-Headphones?”

“But there wasn’t a murderer! You’re just an idiot!”

You spin your chair towards him, clenching your fists in exasperation. He huffs and crosses his arms, his blue jacket slung over his broad shoulders. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he swallows before looking away.

“What the Hell are you wearing?”

You look down at your attire as you sit cross-legged in your gaming chair. You had expected to spend the whole day inside, so your outfit was not exactly guest appropriate but it suited your personal comfort level just fine. You are wearing a thick oversized sweater that drapes over your lap, no pants, topped off with fluffy socks that cover your legs and end just above your knees. The sweater hangs low, doing little to cover your chest and cleavage, and the socks squeeze the plush insides of your thighs. Normally you would have been more embarrassed dressing this way in front of your friend, but Changbin had not been invited into your room and you were still annoyed at him for taking up your personal time.

“What’s wrong? They’re just my pajamas.”

“You sleep in that? Fuck, you really are an e-girl.”

You roll your eyes.

“It’s comfy. And look, the socks have beans.”

You lift your leg to show the bottom of your foot, where cat paws are printed on the socks. He slaps your leg down firmly.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why? There’s beans!”

“I can see that.”

You notice a dark blush dusting his cheeks as you go to lift your leg again. This time he holds your leg down by your thigh to prevent you from lifting it.

“Would you stop that? Have some modesty will you?”

“Modesty? They’re cat socks.”

“And you’re wearing them like some sort of pervert.”

You curl up in your chair and turn back to your pc.

“Lee Know would appreciate them.”

“Yeah, he probably has a catgirl fetish. He’s your target audience.”

You glare softly at him.

“I’m telling him you said that. And there’s no audience. This is just how I dress when I’m alone.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s not supposed to be weird men in my room!”

He blinks in surprise then gapes, offended, at your words.

“I am not a weird man. Take that back.”

“You just called me a pervert. Because of cat socks.”

“I’m sorry! But don’t flash me!”

“Flash you?”

He points at your lap, and this makes you blush. All you see is the gap of bare flesh not covered by your sweater or your socks. You throw your hands up in defeat as he gestures impatiently, and his attention on your thighs suddenly makes you self-conscious. You slap your hands down to cover them.

“There! Happy?”

“Not that! You were- your legs- just don’t spread your legs open when you’re not wearing any clothes, yeah?”

“These are clothes.”

“You’re not wearing pants, and you might not be wearing underwear either.”

You scoff.

“You think I’m not wearing underwear? Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“I’m not a freak.”

“Prove it.”

You peer at him.

“That I’m not a freak?”

“That you’re wearing underwear.”

“You’re weird as fuck man.”

You kick your legs up on the desk, knocking a few cans to the floor in the process. Changbin grumbles about your slobbish habits and picks the cans up, then storms out of your room. You wait a moment for him to return and when he does not, curiously get up from your chair to check on him. You spot him in the kitchen from your doorway and pause to watch him. He has his hands braced against the counter and his head lowered as he takes measured breaths. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you, his jacket is still slung over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Your eyes flit over his arms, flexing as he grips the counter. Then they roam over his black shirt, tightly fitted over his biceps and abs, then down until they land on the unmistakable bulge in his slacks. You look back up to meet his gaze. He looks wrecked, watching you with heavy eyes as his cheeks burn with shame.

You jump as something falls in your room and hits the floor, bringing you both out of the silent trance you had been in for who knows how long.

“What was that?”

You shrug.

“Murderer. Ghost.”

“Ghost?”

“My apartment’s haunted. That’s why I never have anyone over.”

He laughs with a hint of strain.

“You’re funny.”

“Changbin.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll go, just give me a second,” He rasps.

You do not give him a second. You clear your throat and tug your sweater off in one quick swoop. He stares, wide-eyed, as you toss it to the floor and cross your arms. You stare back at him, wearing nothing but a comfy sports bra, your underwear, and your knee socks. The underwear are lame, not even a cute pair. They are the kind with a little satin bow, pink with faded prints of flowers and bunnies, and a small rip in the frilly waistband. There is nothing sexy or enticing about them.

Changbin’s cock strains against the zipper of his pants, no doubt aching to be released. He exhales slowly as his eyes skim over your body. He audibly swallows then looks away.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before. You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

He groans and throws his jacket to the floor then begins crossing the room, tearing his shirt off next in the process. You back up into your room, tripping over another discarded can then falling back on your bed. You sit up just as he enters the doorway. Suddenly, he pauses. He grips the top of the doorframe, giving you a clear view of his muscles at work. You nonchalantly check him out as he pants softly. Then, he points at you.

“You’re the devil, you know that right?”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

“Are you trying now?”

You gnaw on your lip and eye his crotch again lazily. Then you shrug.

“Not particularly.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Look at how you’re dressed.”

“I didn’t dress to impress anyone today, Binnie. Who would even see it? Look at me, why would I wear ratty underwear and a sweaty sports bra if I was trying to look sexy? I’ve been a good girl, you’ve been the bad boy thinking dirty thoughts.”

You emphasize your statement by propping your legs up and spreading them open. He shivers and takes in the clear view of your scantily clad figure.

“y/n,” He says seriously, “I need to know before we go any further if you want this? I’ll stop the moment you ask, I promise, but I want to know before I do something stupid if you even want to keep this going or if you’re just teasing me. Because I… really want you, and I think I’m gonna lose it if we keep this up for much longer.”

You smile and respond softly.

“I trust you, Binnie. I know you would never hurt me. So whatever you want to do, you can do it to me.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Take your panties off, please.”

You smirk at his hesitant order but obey it. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your panties and slide them off, taking your time and keeping your legs spread as you complete the process. He watches you greedily, drinking in the sight of you as you pull your bra off next. You discard both garments to the floor carelessly, then dip your thumb in the cuff of your sock and begin pulling it down.

“No. Leave those on.”

You pull your hand away, fluttering your fingers playfully and tilting your head. He finally enters the room, crossing slowly and kicking the can away when he meets it. He stops at the end of the bed. You hold your breath as he stares down at you, and watch as he reaches down to caress your ankle then gently grasps your calf. You let out a shaky breath right before he drags you to the end of the bed by one leg. You gasp as the bottoms of your thighs come flush to his knees.

He meanders fixing your knee socks one at a time. He tugs them up to hug your thighs and runs his thumbs just under the bands to touch the soft skin beneath. You shudder when he looks at you, then grabs your other thigh and squeezes both of them. Your legs quiver as he holds them open and massages underneath your thighs.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?”

You nod and he shakes his head.

“Say it.”

“I’ll tell you. But I don’t want you to stop. I really don’t want you to stop.”

Changbin falls to the floor on his knees and grips the tops of your socks, he then hikes your legs over his shoulders. You gasp and clench your fingers in the bedsheets when he dives in to lap at your pussy.  You throw your head back and release a pitchy moan as he slowly mouths at you. His fingers curl to stretch the fabric of your socks and your thighs hug his face as he prods you open with his tongue. 

Despite how ruined he looked and how wired he said he felt, he eats you out with an astounding amount of restraint. He rolls his tongue inside between filthy open-mouth kisses, eyes boring into yours as he makes obscenely wet noises. You are not sure if they come from his saliva or your arousal, but it makes your core ache nonetheless. You throw one hand against your forehead and slap the other down on the bed as he continues his tortuous pace.

“Changbin,” You whine, the last part of his name fading off in a squealing moan.

“Mhm,” He peppers a few kisses on the insides of your thighs and nuzzles his cheeks there gently, “What is it, baby?”

“Stop teasing…”

He punctuates his response with a long, deep, kiss right on your clit. You cry out in frustration as he smirks down at you.

“No.”

“Binnie…”

“You teased me, it’s my turn, honey.”

You huff and mewl as he resumes eating you out.

“But I… I didn’t…”

He groans, rumbling your heat as he does so. You buck your hips and moan as he begins picking up the pace, then breaks away. You whimper and glare at him as he licks his lips clean.

“Stop…”

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks breathlessly, “Or do you want me to give in to you?”

“Will you please just fuck me?”

His breath hitches at how soft and desperate your voice sounds. He shakes his head and brings his lips to your heat again.

“Why?” You cry, tears pricking as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

“Shhh, patience, baby. Patience.”

You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you grind against his face. He finally grants you relief when he props his elbows on the bed, your thighs still straddle his face, and he pushes three of his fingers between your folds. He buries his face in your heat and fingerfucks you, continuing to do so until you climax. You can only make mindless, breathy, sounds as he stimulates you through your high. You grip the bed sheets and squeeze your thighs together on instinct, mind going blank as pleasure pulses endlessly through your core. He holds your thighs open and continues suckling at your clit, watching you fall apart from his tongue. 

Slowly, he stops and lowers you on the bed. He lets your legs fall to his sides and presses chaste kisses over your thighs and abdomen. Your legs twitch and you let out a wrecked moan as your pussy throbs. His hands roam sweetly over your thighs, petting and soothing you to relax.

“There you go. Good girl. Wasn’t that worth waiting for?”

You make a short, annoyed, sound.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

He chuckles and stands up, unzipping his slacks and pulling them down. You let your head loll to the side as you watch him. His cock pitches a tent in his boxers, standing proudly as he shucks his pants off. He takes his time rolling the band of his boxers over his length, no doubt enjoying your attention. You bite your lip as he strips himself down then kneels beside you on the bed. You run your hand over his thigh and give a teasing squeeze, then look up for his reaction.

“Mhm.”

“Well?” He murmurs.

“You’re big.”

He snorts, his cock stands proud and drips precum as he moves over you.

“Yeah. It’s a pain.”

“Not for me.”

“Oh? You can take a big dick right now?”

He taps his fingers against your pussy and chuckles when you whine and roll away. You glare over your shoulder as he rubs your hip.

“You’re still too sensitive, baby.”

“And whose fault is that?”

He rolls his eyes.

“My fault for giving you an amazing orgasm, I guess.”

“Yeah, how are you going to get your dick wet now? Stupid.”

His cock jumps and he groans softly at your chiding.

“I’m not.”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

Your tone is more insecure than you wanted it to be, but there is no way to take it back now. Changbin’s eyes soften and he rolls you over to face him. His hand comes to cup your cheek as you avoid looking at him.

“Is that what I said?”

“No.”

“Right. Do you need to hear me say it?”

You nod shyly and he shoots you a soft smirk.

“I want you. I need you. You’re so beautiful.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay-”

“I want to make you feel loved. I want to take care of you.”

“Oh, so now you want to be romantic? What happened to the teasing and manhandling?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Well, that was when I was hungry, baby. I’m not thinking straight until I’ve had my fill.”

He leans down, hovering his lips over yours.

“Are you thinking straight now?” You murmur.

“No. You’re still making me crazy.”

You giggle and brush your nose against his.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Kiss you?”

You nod timidly. He chuckles as you both close the space between you and share a slow, sweet kiss. You sigh into his mouth as he pets your cheek with his thumb.

“What about now? What do you want me to do?” He asks.

“Fuck me?” 

“Hah… I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, baby.”

“Pretty big talk for a guy that got hard over socks.”

“Well. They are on you.”

“Shut up.”

You kiss again, a bit more heated. Changbin melts into your arms as you pull him closer and he grinds against the crease of your hip. You giggle as he moans and chases the friction a second time.

“Can’t fit your big dick in my pussy? Just gonna hump me like a dog instead?”

He groans and raises his hips up, his cock still hangs and drags over your abdomen.

“You’re so rude. I’m being so sweet to you.”

“Gonna cry about it?”

“Would that turn you on?”

You shrug and give a teasing grind against his thigh. He curses softly and drops his head.

“Don’t make me beg, I might really cry then,” You laugh and he whimpers, “Please?”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

You giggle and roll away for a moment to grab lotion from your bedside drawer. When you turn back he shoves his face into the crook of your neck and lets out a shuddery breath onto your chest. You clutch his head close and kiss his forehead as he props his leg over yours. You lube your fingers then slip them between your bodies and around his length. He jerks his hips impatiently as you stroke him slowly.

“y/n…”

“Yes, baby?”

“F-Fuck…”

“You like that?”

“Mh-hm.”

He pants and pulls you closer as you work your hand around him. He curses and throws his head back to gaze up at you. Your touch slows as you watch his lips part in a small whimper.

“Please,” He breathes, “I’m so close.”

“You’ve been such a good boy.”

He nods and cries out in frustration as you slide your hand up his abdomen. You scratch your nails over his chest and gently direct him.

“Wanna come? Go ahead, Binnie. I want to see you touch yourself.”

He makes a choked noise and leans up to brace himself over you.

“That’s not fair,” He takes a shuddery breath, “I helped you.”

“I am helping,” You pout, “What? Are you saying you can’t get off? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks down as you dip your fingers between your legs and play with your clit. He curses at the soft sounds that escape your lips. He steals another kiss and slowly begins stroking himself over you. You giggle and murmur quiet encouragement against his lips as you lazily pleasure yourself.

“Wanna come, Binnie? Wanna come on my pussy?”

“Y-es…”

He kisses you again, hard, as his movements become faster and uncoordinated. You cup his cheek and allow the fingers between your legs to graze absentmindedly over your sex. He slowly breaks away and gazes into your eyes as he works himself to release. His eyes fall shut and he groans your name.

“Come on, baby. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck,” He gasps.

He jerks himself through his climax, moaning desperately as he spills his cum over you. You watch his expression intently as milky streaks fall over your abdomen and crotch. You glance down and spread the sticky substance between your fingers, then look back at him. He watches you through fluttering lashes and pants into the shared air. Then, he smirks and leans down to share a wet kiss. When you part he kisses your cheek then collapses on top of you, nuzzling your neck.

“I love you.”

You scoff.

“I make you jerk off to me once and that’s all it takes for you to fall in love? You’re pathetic.”

He whines in protest.

“I loved you before that, bitch. And, I’ve jerked off to you many times-”

“Ugh, you freak…” You respond with no animosity.

He laughs breathlessly and heaves a tired sigh. “I mean it. And not just the masturbating part.”

You snort and listen to his labored breath slow then settle into a tranquil rhythm before breaking the silence.

“I know. I love you too. Even if you get turned on by socks.”

Changbin laughs and squishes his face against your cheek. You turn your head and press a loving kiss to the bridge of his nose.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” You mumble before granting him another kiss.

“Mhm… I will… later.”

You gasp as he goes to pull you closer and gently keep him at an arm’s length.

“Ah, I’m dirty.”

“Yeah, you are.”

You laugh then make a disgusted noise as he pulls your hips together and kisses your neck. You melt into his arms and let him cradle your head to his chest. You sigh and nose sleepily at his shoulder.

“You better clean me up.”

“M’yeah…”

“M’serious…”

“Mh-hm…”

You relax and doze off embracing each other.

You wake again hours later. No light peeks in from the window, the only thing illuminating your room is your desktop screen. The red numbers of the 24-hour clock beside your bed tell you that it is midnight. You fight your way out from where you are tightly tucked into bed. Changbin’s shirt covers your figure as you sit up then slip out of bed. The shirt falls just above the top of your knee socks, leaving a sliver of skin peeking out. You finally notice Changbin, seated in your gaming chair and just wearing your headphones and his boxers, focused on the game playing in front of him. He has cleaned up the desk and his jacket is folded neatly over the back of the chair. You watch in silence then tiptoe over as the match finishes.

“What are you doing?”

He jumps and throws his hand over his chest as he looks at you.

“y/n!”

“Why are you playing my game?”

“... No reason.”

You take the mouse from him before he can queue and open your profile. He smiles sheepishly when you gape at your stats.

“You brought me up five levels?”

“Did I?”

“I didn’t know you could play.”

“What, you really think Felix leveled up all by himself?”

You blink as you process his words then grin and fall into his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek.

“Thank youuu.”

“Don’t thank me, just get better so you don’t have to play so much.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault! All my teammates suck.”

“Mhm, that’s what they all say.”

You roll your eyes and rest your head on his chest.

“Still, I appreciate it.”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.”

“Wanna show me how much you appreciate it?”

You smirk.

“Yeah. What do you want me to do?”

His thumb glides down your clothed leg then back up again.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.”

“I don’t?”

“I’ll just let you have this seat and then I’ll take care of the rest.”

You stand and watch him rise then turn to fall to his knees as you fall back in the chair. He smirks and pushes his shirt up out of the way, then draws your legs over his shoulders.

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

[elenthyaolyenths]

The Night We Met (Haunted by the ghost of you) - A Good Omens One-Shot

for Ineffable May 2024, Day 27: "Flashback".

Tags: One-Shot (1800 words), Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Bittersweet, Crowley Loves Aziraphale, Post-Good Omens (TV) Season 2, Based on the Lord Huron song; cw/tw alcohol

Read on Ao3

Summary

A few years - decades? - after the Non-Pocalypse. After a certain angel's return to favour as Supreme Archangel.

In an anonymous pub, a lonely demon hears a certain song, and slowly lets himself drift into old memories. Those recollections, the best as well as the worst, hurt like hell, make him wish he was dead.

But it doesn't matter, because he can't really die.

It doesn't matter... because it will only last a few minutes.

Excerpt:

A few guitar chords, and only that. Unfortunately, sometimes it was all it took for Crowley.

The alcohol on his tongue turned into a new bitterness. One of those surprising, yet not unpleasant, kinds of tastes. Eyelids shut, his head reclining on the back of the old leather seat, and he let the music take him away — for a few minutes of inner drift, nothing more.

The pub’s materiality around him seemed to fade away, blurring. No more anonymous night owls quietly drinking here and there. Summer nights long gone, heavy and thick outside, kept at bay by the flickering lights of dirty lanterns, and the old sign’s icy neons above the counter.

Oh, how humans could be surprising at times. How easily some of them knew how to bottle an entire world, an entire time span, an entire experience in a few minutes of music....

I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt Take me back to the night we met...

Continue reading on AO3

Thanks to @goodomensafterdark and @blairamok !

A big BIG THANK YOU to @captainblou for their translation and their amazing paintings on AO3!

My Good Omens illustrations: [Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

❤️‍🔥Support me on Ko-Fi❤️‍🔥

Masterpost (Art Gallery, news, NSFT links)

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 2)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 6k!

summary: a glimpse into the time before tokyo

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, ableism, internalized ableism, mentioned child abuse, mentioned bullying, mentioned homophobia

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again

author note: i'm not going to stay this every single chapter, but just as a reminder, autism is a spectrum! i was a late in life diagnosis. like, i literally got diagnosed two-ish years ago at 30. so, i don't know what it was like to live a childhood with an actual diagnosis. i know, for most parents, their kid getting a diagnosis isn't the end of the world. i've done a lot of research on how autism is received in japan and it's a lot of mixed reviews. i can only imagine that living in a super tiny town isn't easy for anyone seen as "other" (LGBT, neurodivergent, sorcerers in regards to the JJK world). so, yeah, there's my disclaimer!

translation note: jiheishō is the japanese term for autism

oops done forgot to link part one

oops part duex here's the ao3 link

[SIX.]

“Jiheishō?”

Oh. There’s that word again.

Mother took you on another trip to the special doctor that’s all the way in the city. It takes a long, long time to drive there. Two hours, Mother said, when you asked. You wanted to ask her if she remembered how many times you’ve been to the doctor, but you can only ask one question on special doctor days. Mother has been really sad. You don’t want to make her sadder because you ask lots of stupid questions.

Is Father this sad, too? You wish that you could hug him like you do Mother, but you don’t see him a lot. He doesn’t like to talk to you as much anymore. He must be tired. He’s a farmer and works really hard. You were really happy when he came with you and Mother to the special doctor once.

“Absolutely not!” Father’s voice is loud. You drop your crayon because you got spooked. You’re outside with crayons and the special paper that’s colorful and feels really nice on your fingers. Before you went home, the special doctor let you take all your drawings home. “That’s what that quack came up with?! And you accepted that?! We spent all our money for that?!”

“Dear, please,” Mother says in that way that means she’s crying now. You want to go hide. It’s because of you. “Don’t you think this is the best outcome? We were scared that she had some kind of brain injury! The doctor said that the things that she’s been seeing are imaginary friends, that’s all. She has poor emotional regulation and an overactive imagination, so if we teach her what she can and can’t say—”

“What do you mean better?!” There’s a loud bang that makes you jump. “If she was sick in the head in some other way, we could medicate her! How do we treat this, huh?! What are we supposed to tell people? Do you know the position this puts us in now? This is an embarrassment on both our families! Our daughter will be no better than that Geto boy!”

Father is really, really, really mad. He’s super loud, too. It makes your head hurt more. The hospital had a lot of people, was really bright, and there was so much noise. You don’t know how, but you hurt Mother and Father, and that makes your heart hurt worse than your head. You guess this is because of what the doctor said. He said what was wrong with you, even if you didn’t know what it meant. Before he could tell you what it means, Mother said that she and Father would talk to you about it. She said that it wasn’t the doctor’s place.

You’re dumb. You should’ve known you hurt her when she got in the car after leaving the doctor and cried a long time.

Too scared to be seen by Father right now, you decide to leave. If he sees you, he’ll keep yelling, and you’ll cry. This might make him happier, anyway. He says that he wants you to be more normal. Normal boys and girls go play, right? You don’t have people friends, but you don’t think that matters. You just have to be gone from home until the sun sets. If Father asks where you went, it won’t be a lie to say you were playing with friends.

You walk along the rock road between farms to get to the forest where the river lives. No one waves to you like they do Mother and Father. You know they think you’re weird because your classmates think it, too. It’s not your fault that you have different friends than them. You think they’re jealous that they don’t have as many as you.

Oh!

There are special animals!

Just as they’re about to fly away in the forest, you see a big group of them. These ones look like cute squids!

If you think really hard and call for them like you see classmates do with cats or dogs then the special animals will come see you, but these don’t. “Wait!” They don’t hear you, either. They’re too far away. So, you give chase. You want to touch them and hold them like nothing else. You know it’s mean, but you’ve never seen special animals as cute as these before!

Will these feel like real squid or cooked? You hope it’s real squid. That would be so cool! Maybe you haven’t ever touched a real one, but you have eaten squid, and you hate it. It’s so gross inside your mouth that you throw up whenever Mother makes it. Not even takoyaki can make it better.

You’re on the side of the river when you catch up with the squids. You almost get bonked on the head by something. They’re all dropping stuff on the ground. Fruits and vegetables. They’re dirty and have fur on the end that Father told you were roots. It’s like the squid stole them from the farms. The squids hover in the air, even if they dropped their food. You take the chance to leap up and grab one of them.

You’re squealing at how slimy the squid feels when someone shouts, “Hey!”

All the rest of the squids float over to a boy that’s stomping out of some bushes. You know this boy. He’s the tallest in your class, but also the skinniest. His black hair is at his shoulders and messy. He’s the very first in your class to lose a tooth. He’s making a mean face, so you can see the hole in his teeth. This is Geto Suguru and he’s the only other person in class that people don’t like, though you don’t know why since no one talks to you.

“Let my squid go!” Geto shouts.

Your eyes widen. “You can see them, too?!”

“Yeah. Just like you can, I guess.” Geto walks to stand in front of you and yanks the squid you’re squeezing. “You’re not allowed to eat any of these! This is my food, and these are my squids!”

You’re confused. “Are those regular squids? Do regular squids fly? You only eat regular squids, right?”

Geto squints his eyes at you. “Are you stupid?” He shakes his head. “No. Ocean squids can’t fly. I’m talking about the ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” You tilt your head, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. Suddenly, a black hole opens next to Geto’s head, and a new special animal comes out. This one looks like a really big, ugly fly with teeth and eyes. You have seen these kinds around before. “That’s a ghost? I thought those are special animals.”

Another black hole opens. This special animal has a mushroom-shaped head with a little body and wings. “How does that even look like an animal, dummy? Most of them don’t look like the squids.”

“I know that!” Your cheeks puff out. You’re not dumb. He is! Ugh. Why did you think that he would be different than the rest of your classmates? Everyone calls you stupid! “I call them that because they come when I do. It’s like other kids and their pets. I can do the…the…psst, psst, psst thing.”

Geto finally loses the angry face. Now, he’s confused like you were before. “Huh? You mean…they listen to you?” He points at the bruise on his cheek. “I have to fight them before I can eat them. After I eat them, then they listen to me.”

“You eat them?”

“You don’t?”

“No!”

Maybe you are stupid, but so is he. The two of you stand there and look at each other while you think hard about what you learned. You can both see the invisible things that no one else can. Are there other people like you and him? There has to be! And they all are special because you and Geto are. They come when you call. Geto eats them.

At the same time, you both shout at each other, “Show me!”

“Whoa.” Geto holds his hand out to let you touch the black ball that he turned the ghost animal into.

It took you and him walking up and down the river to find a ghost animal that wasn’t already his pet. He watched with wide eyes and a mouth dropped open as you clapped and called to make the ghost animal come to you. Geto wanted to fight it, but you told him that he didn’t need to do that because it wasn’t going to hurt either of you now. You know that they can be mean when they don’t know the other person, but they don’t fight you.

Then, you were the excited one as you watched Geto show his power. It was bright, but it was so cool that you didn’t even care about that. It’s kind of like the special ghost turned into ashes, just breaking apart before it spun in circles, and it finally formed into a little black ball that Geto now holds.

“That was so pretty!” You’re so excited that you’re waving your arms. “It was so cool, too!” His cheeks are red. He looks away when he pushes the ball in your face. Grinning, you reach for it, but instead of getting to feel the ball, your hand goes through it and lands on his hand. “Oh.” You poke his hand. “Aw, it didn’t work.”

“Eh?” Geto blinks. He pulls his hand away, making sure that his ball didn’t go away completely, and it didn’t. He curls his hand around it over and over. “I guess only I can do it.”

You nod. “That makes sense. Just like only I don’t get hurt by them.”

“But we can both make them do what we say.”

“No,” you stretch the word out. “Um, it’s weird. They don’t see me unless I call for them. And I can make them not hurt me or anyone else and…stay there. But that’s kinda it, really.” You rock back and forth. “I guess I just make them not angry.”

Geto looks at you for a long time without saying anything.

It starts bothering you, getting stared at. You ask, “What is it?”

“Will you help me get bigger ones? You don’t have to do anything but make them be quiet like you did here,” Geto says. “It’s hard for the little ones to get bigger food for me.”

“Why don’t you ask grown-ups to get bigger food for you if the ghost animals can’t?”

Geto kicks some rocks into the water. He doesn’t look at you anymore. “Because I’m not asking for any of that food, dummy.”

“But…that’s stealing, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Geto whispers. “My folks don’t give me food.”

You’re the one that doesn’t say anything for a long time. That makes your heart hurt. Parents are supposed to feed their kids, aren’t they? Sometimes, yours don’t, but that’s because your body is being bad. Mother works hard to make meals and you don’t appreciate that when your body makes you throw up the gross feeling food.

Would Mother and Father let Geto eat instead of you? Geto would probably like Mother’s food more than you. But…no. Father says that he doesn’t like Geto. He thinks that Geto is weird, too. Father might get even madder at you if you tell him that you and Geto are friends.

Kids are supposed to eat. It’s really, really important, your teachers say when you don’t want to eat lunch for the day. That would make it okay if Geto takes some food, right? Farms are big, anyway. Some animals go digging for food. You know that because Father said so. What’s different between a deer and a ghost animal taking food?

“You have to pay me for it,” you finally say.

Geto nods excitedly. “Anything!”

You hold out a hand to him. “I’ll help you if you be my friend.”

[FOURTEEN.]

“You’ve been crying.”

When Suguru cups your cheek and wipes at the tear stains with his thumb, you shrug him away. Not because you don’t want to be touched, but because you don’t want to dwell on what caused said tears. “I brought takoyaki,” you mumble as you slip your backpack off your shoulder. “Had to take a bite, but I know you don’t care about the germs.” Said takoyaki balls are wrapped in a napkin that you pass over to him.

“I almost don’t want to out of spite,” Suguru mutters under his breath.

“Then what? Should I throw it away? They’ll check the trash or check the yard to see if I buried it.” Hugging your knees to your chest, you put your forehead against your knees. “Eat it, please. I just want this whole ordeal to be over, okay?”

“Aren’t you too old for them to be forcing you to sit at the table?” Suguru keeps complaining as he digs into the takoyaki balls with gusto. He tries to be casual about it, but you’ve been best friends for almost ten years. You know when his parents haven’t been letting him eat.

“Aren’t you too old to be asking these stupid questions?” You turn your head to the side to quietly study him. It was nearing midnight when he came knocking on your window. The makeup from the day has rubbed off, so you can see the ugly bruise yellowing on his cheek. “Aren’t you too old to be hanging out with the weird chick? You know it makes their mood worse when they hear I made a scene.”

Suguru chuckles darkly. “They’d find another fuckin’ reason to get pissed off, trust me.”

“How’d we end up with the shittiest parents in this stupid village?”

“Everyone has secrets. They’re cruel to their children, to their spouses, to each other. Just like you and I do, they have their masks, but word gets around. You just don’t pay attention.” He reaches over to flick your exposed nose. “Did you hear about what happened with Endo Iyo’s father? His mistress from a village over showed up on their doorstep, saying she’s pregnant with his child.”

“Eh? No wonder she was such a cunt at school today.”

Suguru laughs quietly. “You’re awful, Squid.”

“Says the person that’s dishing out the gossip.”

“Okay, you got me there.” Suguru stabs the last takoyaki ball with his skewer. Before he takes a bite, he asks, “I’m surprised you’re not saying worse about her. Do you want to talk about what happened today? I heard that you and Endo got into a screaming match in the girls’ locker room.”

“All the mean shit that I had to say about her, I said to her face.” He snickers but stops when you go on to explain, “She was talking about doing mean things to you.” You fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. “I overheard her and all her little friends scheming. She said that when we start high school, she’s going to pretend to confess her love for you. She said that you’re such a desperate loser that you’d accept.”

Suguru doesn’t have much to say about that. He tosses the napkin away. You watch as, one by one, he licks the sticky residue of takoyaki sauce away from his fingers. He’s staring at you thoughtfully while he does. For some reason, it leaves you flustered, so you duck your head back down.

“Is that what upset your parents?” You nod miserably. “That was sweet, Squid, but you didn’t have to go through that for me. I know you hate to yell. But…you didn’t think that I would believe her if she said something like that, did you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Or…maybe you’d use her like she wanted to use you. We’re at that age, y’know. I hear guys talk about getting a hand up girls’ skirts and stuff.”

Suguru groans loudly. You glance over at him and he’s so disgusted that it makes you huff in amusement. “How low is your opinion of me? I have tastes.”

“How do you even know what your tastes are? Everyone our age is gross.”

“You’re not gross.”

“I wasn’t talking about me and you, obviously.” You unwrap your arms from around your legs, letting them drop. You shuffle around to cross your legs instead. “We start high school next year,” you whisper more to yourself than him. “I guess that I do have to start thinking about that stuff, huh?”

He makes a displeased noise in the back of his throat. “You actually don’t.”

“It’s what normal teenagers do, though, right? Girls think about making love confessions to the guys they have crushes on. They want to date.” You bite on your bottom lip. “That cunt, Endo…she even talked about swindling you into taking her to a big city to book a room at a love hotel. She thinks you have a big dick because you’re so tall. That’s when I snapped.”

“Oh. That was nice of her to say.”

“Suguru! Ugh!” You can’t even believe that he would praise her like that. Suguru is your best friend! This asshole is supposed to be on your side here! “Don’t be thankful for that! One day, you’ll meet a nice girl who will wax poetic about your dick and mean it!”

“Or boy.”

“Or boy—” you blink. Slowly, you turn your head. Suguru is pointedly not looking at you. Because he’s nervous. Your kneejerk reaction is to be hurt that he’s waited this long to tell you, but you understand why. During your first year of middle school, word got around that Kimura Kaito liked boys, and he left for the city without even graduating. “Or boy,” you reaffirm. “I can kind of forgive you for taking Endo’s compliment. It sucks that someone so hot is such a bitch.”

The tension in the air eases. With flushed cheeks and a laugh, he gives you a light shove. “How much did it pain you to lie like that?”

“I wasn’t, though?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you knew,” you admit. “Didn’t I tell you about the day that I was with my mother in the city? It was two years ago, I think? I saw an ad at the subway station with this model and said it’d be nice if she was my wife. My mom slapped me so hard that I knocked my head against a wall and busted it open.”

“No!” At Suguru’s shout, you immediately shush him. Sure, your house is bigger than his, but it’s not that big. He’ll wake your parents if he keeps this up. “I saw that and tried to ask you about it, but you didn’t say shit,” he hisses in a much quieter voice than before.

Oops. “Well, that’s what happened.”

Suguru tilts his head back, looking up at the starry skies. “We’re kind of perfect for each other, Squid. Have you ever thought about that? We see the same things. We were raised the same. We like the same things…”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” you agree.

Just the thought of a life without Suguru in it makes your chest tight with panic. This is the exact same spiral that you had before you two entered middle school. You were so exhausted that first week of middle school because terror kept you awake all the nights before. You dreaded the change. You thought that, somehow, the rest of the kids in the village would finally figure out how amazing a person Suguru is and take him away from you. Now that you think about it, that might be part of the reason why you exploded on Endo. Maybe she joked about it, but what if someone else didn’t?

“Squid—”

“Suguru—” you stop when you realize that you and he started to talk at the same time. Since it feels like you’ve dominated the whole conversation tonight, you meekly offer, “You first.”

“Do you…” Suguru trails off. Whatever he wants to say, he doesn’t know how to get it out. You patiently wait. It’s like he goes through a lot of emotions, one after the other. Finally, there’s a defeated slump to his shoulders. “It sounds like it was a hard day for you.” He has such a soft smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you want to help me catch the ghost animal that I found last week?”

“You went manta ray riding without me?” You can’t help but pout about that.

“Sorry, sorry. I needed some time alone, that’s all.”

Yeah, okay, you understand that. For you, there are days when it’s simply too hard to even talk. So, you don’t dwell on that any longer. You move the conversation forward as if he never said it at all. “We’ll be so exhausted tomorrow,” you warn.

“It’ll be worth it.” Suguru rises to his feet. Holding out a hand to you, he grins wickedly, and declares, “It’s a dragon.”

“You couldn’t have said that earlier?!” You’re so excited that you scramble to your feet yourself. In your excitement, you almost forget that it’s midnight, and everyone else is asleep. Suguru puts a finger to his lips to remind you to be quiet. Eyes bright and vibrating with delight, you whisper-shout, “Let me grab my sketchbook!”

“Reminds me of Hong.”

“Hong?”

“It’s a rainbow dragon from Chinese mythology!”

“You choose to focus on the most random things,” Suguru mumbles. You elbow him in the ribs as a rebuke. He doesn’t even flinch. Since when did this skinny kid get so damn buff? Oh, from his asshole father making his kid do farm work in his place, that’s how. “What makes you think this is…whoever? Hong?”

“You can’t see it?” Hmm, well, you two do only have moonlight and flashlights to guide your way. There’s no electricity left in this old factory. “Here.” You take the flashlight from Suguru and wave it from side to side so that the light catches off the white dragon’s scales and the iridescent sheen that bounces off them. “See? Rainbow!”

Suguru steps forward to glide his fingers over the dragon’s hide. With a hum, he takes the blunt end of the flashlight and knocks it against the scales. The clang echoes in the silence. “It’s so odd that such a tough creature went down so easy.” He looks over his shoulder at you, brows knitted in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I might fall asleep on the way home,” you admit. It’s the dead of winter, but you had to take your puffy coat and the sweater under that off because you were burning with exertion. You won’t complain, though. This has really helped get out all that excess energy that’s bubbled up inside you all day.

“Oi!”

Both you and Suguru freeze at the sound of a human voice. At the entrance to the factory, there are a group of people. There’s one older man that’s dressed in a suit while the other three appear to be high schoolers—on the cusp of graduation, you’d say, based off how old they look. None of them are from around here. Those uniforms definitely don’t belong to your school. Not even from any other schools in your district. You’re not even sure they’re from your prefecture.

And maybe the sight of them wouldn’t be so alarming. Like you and Suguru, they could be some kids looking to goof around at spooky, supposedly haunted places…but one of them has a weapon. Seriously. The boy with spiky brown hair and a toothpick sticking out of his mouth has a katana drawn.

“Get away from that thing!” Katana Boy shouts.

You don’t know if they’re yakuza or some kind of serial killer group or whatever, and you don’t want to find out. Both you and Suguru act. Normal people can’t see ghost animals, but people can still be touched by them. You and Suguru has fucked around with ghost animals enough to know that. So, when Suguru throws an arm out and the rainbow dragon follows, the entire group is tackled by an invisible force.

Heart racing, you throw yourself against Suguru’s side, and the ground falls out from underneath you both after Suguru summons his manta ray. As soon as Suguru gets you both far away enough, he’ll let the rainbow dragon go. After Suguru swallows them, they’ll never leave him again, no matter how far he may go.

And as soon as you’re far away enough, you can freely shout, “What do we do now?!”

“It’s fine,” Suguru tries to assure you. “It’s fine. Take a deep breath.” How can he say that to you when there’s a rapid rise and fall in his chest, too? “Look, there—” he hesitates as he scrambles for a plan. “We won’t ever go back that way, okay? We were in another district, so they would start the search there, anyway. But why would they bother to look for us? What would they tell the authorities? They’d be admitting to crimes of their own!”

“Yes! Right! Okay!” The logic helps calm down the frantic racing of your mind and body. Because he’s right. He is. Those other teenagers would be looked at as crazy as everyone does you and Suguru—wait. Wait. “Katana Guy…he said to get away from that thing. Did he mean Hong? Could that guy see Hong?!”

“No, Squid!” Suguru shakes his head. He knows exactly where you’re going. “We are not going back there! Who cares if they can see what we do? If one of them had a katana, you think the others didn’t have weapons of their own? Whatever they wanted, it’s no good.”

“There are other people like us, though!” It’s starting to process in your mind. This makes your heart soar higher than this manta ray could possibly go. You’re still draped across Suguru’s lap. You pull at his shirt, yanking him away from his thoughts, forcing him to look down at you. “There are other people like us!”

“There…” Suguru’s eyes widen. The epiphany finally reaches him, too. “There are other people like us,” he repeats breathlessly.

“Let’s leave!” The grin on your face is infectious. You are both high off adrenaline and elation. “Suguru, I don’t care if we have to live on the streets…as soon as we graduate, we’re leaving here. We’re getting away from everyone in our shitty village. Let’s run until we find more people like us!”

Suguru holds up his pinky between your bodies. You immediately hook your own around it. “Yes,” he swears. “You and me, Squid. We’ll run and never look back.”

Little did you know, a week later, you and Suguru are given your destination to run toward.

Side by side, you and Suguru walk down the gravel road that leads to your homes. Halfway home, there’s a sleek black car that blocks the road. They’re not from this village because no one has a car as nice as that. You and Suguru plan to go around it, just assuming it’s for one of the farmers. It’s unusual but not rare. Sometimes, corporate lackeys come slinking in to try and buy up farmland.

The back doors of the car open and, with growing dread, you realize that those people are here for you and Suguru. Katana Guy steps out of the car, rubbing the back of his neck, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here. He’s not armed, thankfully. If you scream, will neighbors come running? They may ridicule you and Suguru, but this village protects their own. So, you could make a scene.

“Yeah, that’s them,” Katana Guy loudly announces while he looks over his shoulder at the other person stepping out of the car.

An unfamiliar voice calls out your name, followed by, “Geto Suguru.” There’s a big man that walks around to step up by Katana Guy’s side. This man wears thin, sporty sunglasses. His brown hair is a buzz, shaved close to his head. He’s got a mustache-goatee combo thing going, too. “Don’t be scared. We’re here to talk.”

Behind you, there’s the tale tell sound of Suguru’s rift opening. Nothing gets brought out, though, when you hold out an arm as a motion for him to stop and think. There’s an audience. This isn’t like it was the other night. The neighbors can’t see the ghost animals, but they can see the damage that’s done. They can feel the damage that’s done. Feelings for them aside, it’d bring up too many questions if a bunch of people died. That’s why Katana Guy and his gang aren’t doing anything, either.

“If you have anything to say, talk with our parents,” you state bluntly.

Sunglasses Guy approaches you and Suguru slowly. Suguru takes the arm that you still have held out and tries to tug you behind him protectively. You don’t go. Instead, you just hold his hand tightly, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Sunglasses Guy stops when you and Suguru start backing up. On each side of the road, farmers are putting their tools down and walking to meet you.

“My name is Yaga Masamichi,” Sunglasses Guy introduces himself. “I’m a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High School.”

Suguru scoffs. “What? Are you here to offer us a spot?”

“Yes, actually,” Yaga answers. “I will speak with your parents, but I can’t give them the whole truth. They’ve never believed you when you told them, have they?” Your hand squeezes tighter as if to say to him, see! See! Just like us! “Behind me is one of our third-years, Kusakabe Atsuya. He says that you two took care of the spirit.”

“Spirit?” Suguru and you repeat at the same time. You think you know what he means, so you ask, “The dragon?”

“Yes.” Yaga nods. “That thing you encountered, the things that you’ve seen your entire life—those are what we called cursed spirits.”

It’s weird. It doesn’t even take that long for Yaga to bust wide open the door to a whole other world. It’s not super detailed, it can’t be because you’re on a time limit with suspicious neighbors, but it’s enough to comfort you and Suguru. You’re told about the foundation of jujutsu—cursed energy that births cursed spirits and the sorcerers that wield it. That’s what you and Suguru are, he tells you. You’re jujutsu sorcerers.

“The school that I teach at…we teach those like you how to hone and strengthen their techniques. We train them to become full-fledged sorcerers that will go on to save lives that cursed spirits threaten,” Yaga explains. “You’ll meet people like you. There are two others that would be coming in with you next year if you decide to enroll.”

“Yes,” Suguru blurts.

“Suguru,” you hiss. To Yaga, you demand, “Come back and be less suspicious about it. We’ll talk more then.”

Yaga accepts this with a nod.

When Yaga and his shady car is gone, Suguru stares at you as if you’ve grown another head. A neighbor calls out your surname, then Suguru’s, but you ignore them by stomping forward down the road. You’re tired of being looked at. Suguru allows himself to be dragged by the hand, but he’s still trying to press you.

Suguru says your name. “This is our way out!”

You’re exhausted. You want to go home, but Suguru’s not going to let this go easy. When you two are far away enough, you stop, and whirl around to face him.

“Did you even listen to what he said? The ghost—these cursed spirits—” all these emotions are starting to overwhelm you. It’s got your hands shaking. “Saving people means these things are dangerous enough to kill us. That’s…that’s scary! What if we fail? How could I live with myself if someone dies because of me?” Your throat is clogging up with emotion. “I want to leave, I do, but I don’t want to fight. I just want to understand!”

Maybe Suguru thinks it’ll make you feel better, but it makes you feel dismissed when he says, “That won’t happen. I’ll always be there to protect you.”

“How does that make things better? Do you not get that the thought of that makes me even more scared?!” You press the heels of your palms against your eyes. Your bottom lip quivers. “What if you get hurt because of me? What if you die because of me, Suguru? What am I supposed to do without you?”

“Squid, if we don’t leave now then we never will. We’ll be stuck here, doing nothing with our lives.”

“Go be a hero without me, then!”

“No,” Suguru answers flatly. “We both go, or we both stay.”

It’s too much pressure. The day weighs down and so does Suguru’s clear manipulation. You explode. “You’re such a piece of shit! This is so selfish! You’re making me decide your future, so I end up being the asshole if I make you stay here when you definitely don’t want to!”

“You don’t want to, either! But you’d rather stay here and let yourself be a punching bag for everyone because you’re scared shitless of change!” When you’re angry at each other, you both get nasty. “Oh, what is poor Squid gonna do if there’s even one little change to her day-to-day? How would she ever survive if something different happened for a change?!”

“Oh, what is poor Suguru gonna do if he doesn’t have someone to take care of out of pity?!”

“Pity?!”

“You heard me!” As you’re storming away, you throw over your shoulder, “Now, leave me the hell alone!”

Normally, crying the way you did when you got home to your room would exhaust you enough to let you sleep the whole night through. Your mind and body don’t want to do that tonight, though. You’re hyperaware of everything—the weight and scratch of clothes against your skin, the constant shudder of your thin window as the harsh winter winds bashes against it, the rattle of the heater in the corner of the room. You have to have a tough debate with yourself over whether to strip all the way down to your panties or to bear the burden of this weight against your skin. It boils down to being kept awake by cold or by fucking clothes because that’s the perk of having a brain like yours.

Can the day get worse? There’s only two minutes to midnight, but you’ve never had luck on your side.

For five minutes, you watch the bright, red numbers of your alarm clock intently. Is this like…what’s that American saying? If you watch the minutes pass by, is it like counting sheep? Will that keep your mind off the guilt that sits heavy in your chest like a stone?

That Yaga guy will be back. What if Suguru sees him before you? What will Suguru say? Will he finally give up on you or will he give up on the chance to break free from his parents and this awful village? You hate both options. It doesn’t matter which one you think about, they both replace that guilt inside your chest with panic.

At this point, you have to decide which option will be the least painful.

And isn’t that a shitty summarization of your life?

What’s worse? Gagging as you try to force down food that you hate the texture of or face your parents’ wrath? Gritting your teeth through days where even an overcast is enough to make your eyes burn or deal with the punishment for skipping school to curl up somewhere dark? Living with a low burn of panic as you let people surround and touch you as you try to pretend to be normal enough for a relationship or become a total outcast with nothing and no one to rely on?

Can you spend decades more in this village with this metaphorical mask that’s been nailed onto your face by your parents because they don’t want you to be seen by the world for who you truly are?

The thing that Suguru doesn’t understand is that if he goes to this high school, the only thing that’s separated him from everyone else will be gone. He will be surrounded by people who can see cursed spirits. He’ll no longer be seen as other. He would shine so bright at this new school.

It can never be like that with you.

Because, at the end of the day, people who are not born like you are all the same. Jujutsu sorcerers will have their own world with their own unspoken rules and their own incomprehensible language that you will only be able to decode when it’s too late and you’ve been stamped as wrong.

You don’t want to be left behind.

But you also don’t want to force Suguru to stay behind with you.

Who doesn’t want to be a hero? Not everyone can be, though. You weren’t built to be a fighter. It terrifies you, the thought of becoming one. You may be even more terrified to face the people than the cursed spirits. How exhausting will this be? You’ll not only be navigating the jujutsu world, but also the unspoken, too. You’ll have to learn new rules, learn to be around new people, and mold yourself a new mask.

You don’t want to let down Suguru.

Ugh.

You may as well go talk to him since he won’t come to you. He always waits on you to make the first move when you tell him that you need to be alone. So, you roll away from your futon, climb to your feet, throw on a few more layers, and climb out of your window into the freezing night.

The Geto house is two down from yours, but in the countryside, that’s a hike. It’s the smallest in the village. Suguru has said he’s lucky that he has his own room, but it’s close to his parents’. You don’t tap on his window like he does yours. Instead, he always leaves the window unlocked so that you can crawl through, as you do now. You don’t need to tiptoe over to shake him awake because, same as you, he never went to sleep.

Suguru meets you outside and brings a blanket with him that he throws over your shoulders and his. The two of you huddle under it, pressed right up against each other, soaking up the warmth from each other. You lean your head against his bicep, break the silence with a sigh and apology. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“Don’t be mean to yourself,” he scolds quietly. “I was being impulsive.” He sighs. “You’re right to be scared. I want away from here so bad that I didn’t stop to think about the danger that I’d be walking us both into.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all and…I’m not sure that it’s dying that I’m really scared of.” You brought a pen with you and click the end. It keeps your hand busy and Suguru doesn’t mind the noise. “I’ve been all over the place, I know. I was excited at the idea of meeting people like us, of getting out of here, and I am! I—” you chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t want you to leave me behind when we get there.”

“Why do you think I would ever leave you behind?” Suguru sounds genuinely hurt which makes you feel guiltier. “Have I been such a bad friend that you think I only pity you?”

“No!” You jerk your head up, looking at him with wide, panicked eyes. “You’re my best friend! The best friend!”

Suguru doesn’t meet your gaze. “You’re my best friend, too, Squid. I don’t pity you. I haven’t stuck by your side because you’re my only option. I’m not going to throw you away at the first sign of attention from people who understand us. You were the first person to ever see me. You were the first person to take care of me. Now, we take care of each other.” He tilts his head down, bumping it against yours. “It’s you and me, Squid. It always has been. It always will be.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You didn’t think you had the energy or tears left in you to cry, but maybe you’ve still got some left. You grab his hand like a clingy girlfriend. Your voice shakes as you ask, “Promise?”

“I promise,” Suguru swears.

The next day, after school, you’re called into a private meeting with a counselor, your parents, and Yaga.

And when Yaga offers a full scholarship to Tokyo Jujutsu High School, you accept.

[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

Soothing Touch

Fandom: Anna Karenina

Pairing: Count Alexei Vronsky/GN!Reader (the two of them are married)

Summary: You had a bad day mentally and when your husband finds you, he helps you through it by just being with you.

Reader’s gender is not specified.

Notes: this was written in response to Flufftober’s Day 28 Prompt: Soothing Touch. @flufftober

I do not own Anna Karenina or Vronsky

Also, I should note this is my first time trying to write Vronsky.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

You didn’t know what was wrong, but today you just couldn’t focus. It was a bad day for you. You really wished your husband would come home soon. He always made you feel better, no matter what was going on in your head. He hated that you had days like this, but always loved being close to you and that’s what you needed.

You heard one of the doors close, but you didn’t get up or move from where you were sitting on the floor. It wasn’t long before you felt someone help you stand and helped you over to your bed. When you looked up, your day brightened immensely because looking down at you was your husband, Count Alexei Vronsky.

You smiled as you lifted your hand to his face. “You’re home,” you whispered.

“Of course, my love,” he replied softly. “I would never leave you long. I love you so much.”

He sat on the bed against the wall and asked, “will you join me?”

You moved up to him, before kissing him and sitting in between his legs. He held you to him with one arm around your waist and ran his fingers through your hair in a soothing way. It made you hum as you closed your eyes.

“I’m happy you’re home,” you told him. “I was having a bad day. You being here makes me feel better.”

“I’m happy to be able to make you feel better, my love,” he responded before kissing the top of your head.

————————————————————————————

Tagging: @vanessavampiaives

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bright Eyes | 2

Part 1 2 3

Prince Aemond's marriage was borne out of necessity and political advantage. Let it never be said that he did not know duty, for duty was what kept Aemond Targaryen grounded. But in truth, the prince felt cheated by the match, for he felt his wife was getting scraps as her dowry. After all, she was chosen for him because of her family's wealth and resources. It was then rather scandalous when the icy prince became temperate to his bride.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, arranged marriage au, reluctant lovers ig, angst, family problems, typos, etc.

A/N: i'm finally posting the next parts because I finally finished p3 T_T HAHA This is part of the 'house of the dragon big bang celebration' that's also available on AO3 and my art was made by @ewanmitchellcrumbs <;3 yuh

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

I rap on Aemond's office door and rub my hands together as I wait.

"Enter."

I turn the knob and walk inside, "lord-husband."

Aemond lifts his gaze from his table. He spares me a second glance and turns back to his papers, "mmm."

I make my way towards him, hands clasped together in front of me. I stand there for a second, craning my neck to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. I could not make out his task and so I keep my silence, waiting for him to finish.

"Speak," he urges impatiently.

I flinch.

He apparently does not like that.

Aemond does not lift his gaze from documents.

I clear my throat, "I wanted to tell you that my mother and aunt will be visiting."

His brows furrow. He turns to me, "again?"

I lick my lips and rest my hands by my belly, "they've sent a raven. They are to bring me herbs to aid with conception, amongst other things. I suspect they wish to give me a lesson on mothering as well."

"Mothering?" Aemond's expression turns sour, "why in gods' name will they come here to do that?"

I purse my lips before answering, "it's been a month since we've wed. They were rather disappointed to know of the arrival of my womanly bleeding, and so they wish to help."

"And will they put a babe in you, wife?" Aemond raises a brow.

I turn to my feet then back to him, "they are concerned for me, my prince."

"Their concern is overbearing. They were here seven days ago," he gathers the papers and places them in a leather folder. He then stores the folder in his cabinet, "before they've even settled back in their houses, they've come again."

I release a breath and rub the back of my arm. That was the truth, plainly spoken. Still, I did not want to speak against my mother or aunt, nor did I want to stoke Aemond's annoyance. Instead, I smile and explain, "I will make sure to entertain them so not to interrupt you."

Aemond knits his brows and stands from his chair. The sound of it skidding back makes me cringe. He walks over to me as he says, "I've already been interrupted."

I suddenly feel guilty for bringing this up at this moment.

"When are they coming?"

I take in his annoyed features as he comes to my side. I rock on the soles of my feet and mutter, "later today."

Aemond's lone eye widens, "what?"

"They..." I sigh, "they did not yet leave King's Landing and booked lodging nearby."

Aemond's face falls. He releases an exasperated breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. He gives me a look, "and when did they send a raven?"

"... last night."

Aemond mutters something I've learned to be a curse word in High Valyrian, though I'm not sure exactly what it translates to.

I follow after him when he walks out of the room. I do not say anything, though I was rather agitated because of his reaction.

I wanted to explain to him that my mother and her sister has been this way since I was younger. They needed everything to be perfect, for wives had to be perfect. I grew up trying to uphold their standards, so the idea that I've simultaneously disappointed them to a point where they have to over and do something about it, as well as upset my husband because that they are coming to me, makes me want to retch.

"How long will this mothering lesson take?" Aemond asks.

I rush to his side and give him a look, "if I am careful not to trigger their sermons, an hour or two."

Aemond blows air out of his cheeks, "then I will go for a ride on Vhagar."

I purse my lips at the thought but nod, "I shall see you off."

"As you'd like," he mutters, not once looking at me.

"Aemond."

Aemond and I stop at the end of the hall.

I bow and smile at the man before us, "Lord Hightower."

"Grandsire," Aemond addresses.

Otto looks at the two of us and nods in regard, "I was heading to your office to see what's become of the plans I've entrusted to you."

I turn to Aemond when he does not respond immediately. I watch him purse his lips and huff through his nostrils.

"I'm nearly done. I simply wished to clear my mind a moment and get some fresh air," he motions to me, "my lady-wife is going to see me off on Vhagar."

Otto turns to me.

I offer his grandsire a smile, "he's been working tirelessly as of late. I think it will be good for him to take a break, my lord."

Aemond flattens his lips and nods.

Otto shifts his gaze back to the prince. He nods and gives a smile that does not meet his eyes, "I do hope you enjoy your ride, prince Aemond."

He nods, "thank you, my lord."

With that the two of us walk away.

Aemond sighs, "be sure not to trigger your mother and aunt's--"

We freeze when we hear women's voices laughing and chattering from afar. I turn to Aemond instinctively. He looks at me like he was ready to jump out of the window. My face falls when he actually walks towards the window and opens it. In my panic, I grab his arm and repel his movements, "my prince, please!"

Aemond shoots me a look then turns to his arm. He takes a moment before speaking, "what are you doing?"

I stare at him.

There is a sound of a passing carriage. Aemond's mind click, "I'm not going to jump," he says with annoyance.

Upon hearing this, I release his arm and take a step back from him.

Aemond shakes his head, "do you honestly think I would risk my life merely to avoid those women?"

I press my lips together.

He narrows his one eye, "you are aware I ride Vhagar, the largest dragon in all of the kingdoms."

I nod quickly, "yes. Indeed, my prince-"

"Then why do you insult me by insinuating I would jump out of the window to flee my-"

His words are cut short when he hears voices calling out my name. I stiffen and look over my shoulder. I reach out to Aemond's shoulders, urging him away. I turn to him and mutter, "you should go the other way."

Aemond raises a brow, grumbling, "and why would I do that?"

"You remember last time. They made you come with me to the maester and watch the whole time I was being examined."

"Well," he grunts, "that was a necessary occasion. I would not have known that you have unpleasant reactions to lavender and citrus had I not."

The thought gladdens me for a moment, but then I am overwhelmed by dread when I hear footsteps and louder calls of my name.

Soon enough, my mother and aunt are upon us.

We greet them, they greet us.

I allow them to coddle me then give me backhanded compliments. Aemond watches the whole time, then finally excuses himself, saying he had to attend to his dragon, but the ladies dug their nails into his arm, literally. I watched as the prince was cornered into staying with us. Mentioning that the Queen had endorsed this meeting really tied Aemond's hands behind his back.

Now, we were both imprisoned in the solar, listening to the two matrons muse about things that could help with conception, none of which were methods we had not already heard of from other people.

Aemond tuned out the blabbering, opting to stand by the window, looking out of the keep where he could have been right now had he just jumped from the window.

"And we've bought you some oranges," my mother says.

I watch as she motions to the last pouch on the table that I had not yet opened.

Aemond knits his brows. He remains leaned by the window but averts his attention inside the room.

I straighten from my seat and pour out the contents of the brown bag onto the table. There were various objects before me: teas, herbs, oils, clothes, toys, and now fruit.

I turn to my mother and smile. I say for the twentieth time, "thank you."

"It's all the way from Dorne, niece," my aunt says with a smile, "I saw them in the market and bought some for you. I remembered how it helped me during my time carrying your cousins."

I smile at her, "how kind of you, my lady."

Aemond straightens from his spot as the two older women begin to reminisce. He recognizes the story; it was one they had told the last time they were here. He watches as I smile and nod regardless of this. He wonder how many times this story must have been recounted.

I smile at him when he walks over.

My aunt's story is cut off short when Aemond reaches for a vial on the table. He uncorks it and gives it a whiff. He turns to me, "lilac?"

Before I can respond, my mother does so for me, "lavender."

Aemond turns to her and corks the vial. He places it back on the table and hums, "lavender."

We lock gazes for a second then he walks back to his spot by the window.

A whole hour passes before my mother and aunt leave.

When they do, I am wholeheartedly relieved.

"You're going to eat this?"

I turn to Aemond as he walks over to table and grabs the orange. I spare him a glance and begin to tidy the table, "no."

"Then why did you accept it?"

I knit my brows, "my aunt troubled herself in procuring it. How could I say reject?"

"How could you accept, knowing you body rejects it?" he places the orange down and motions, "and the lavender. From your own mother."

I instinctively take the vial and push it aside with the oranges, "she does not know."

"Then why didn't you tell her? What mother wants to harm her child?"

"She does not want to harm me. She did not harm me," I turn to him, "I'll simply give the oranges and the lavender away. It'll be as though I was never given it."

"But you were," he retorts, "and you did nothing. What if someone had done the same to our child? Would you not say anything then either?"

"That's not the same."

"If you can't protect your body now, how will you protect it when you're carrying my child, or when they are born."

I take in a breath, "evidently, I am unharmed, my prince. And even now you are here also caring for me."

Aemond scoffs, "you think I can coddle you like they do?" He leans down, "I have an entire kingdom to look after, and I do not have time to mother the woman who should be mothering my children."

With that, he pulls back and walks off. I watch him as he heads for the door, "where are you-"

"I wanted to ride Vhagar, and now I will," he mutters just before exiting the room.

I huff and turn my attention back to the table. I tidy everything up and place the oranges and lavender into a separate pouch. I gather everything and head to my chambers.

I stop when I hear my name get called.

I smile at the approaching man and curtsy, "my lord."

Otto walks over to me, brows furrowed, "what is all of that?"

"My mother and aunt brought them for me."

He raises a brow, "have the servants bring them to your room." He immediately calls out to the hall for a servant then turns back to me.

I offer him a smile and thank him.

"Where is your lord-husband?"

"He is... still on dragonback."

Otto looks at the pouches in my hand and takes them from me, "you wouldn't happen to know about the plans I tasked to him. I need them now, finished or not."

"He keeps them in a file in his office, my lord. Did you check?"

Before he replies, a servant girl comes forward. She greets us and Otto immediately hands her the pouches. Once his hands were free, he turns back to me and says, "I did, but I've not the patience nor the time to find which drawer it's stored. If you know where it is, I would appreciate it if you brought it to me."

I bow my head in regard, "of course, Lord Hightower."

Otto nods, "good girl," he walks off, "I trust that you do so in haste."

"Oh, my lord!" I grab one of the pouches from the servant and check its contents.

Otto turns to me.

I hand him the pouch of oranges and lavender, "I cannot have these, so you should have them instead."

The man eyes the pouch and takes it from me. He checks its contents then nods in regard.

I nod back and smile, "I will find your plans at once."

I instruct the servant girl to take my things to my chambers and I head to Aemond's office.

It doesn't take much for me to find the plans Lord Hightower required because I remember where Aemond stored them away.

I glance upon the files and realize it was a list of complaints from lords and what the crown would offer to do for them. Some of the proposals were rather farfetched, some of them were effective but expensive. I take a separate piece of paper and write down some of the solutions I could think of, especially in parts where Aemond did not put anything.

I do so as quickly as possible and head to Otto's office. Before I do, think of leaving a note in case Aemond heads to his office looking for the papers.

When I get to Lord Hightower's office, he was preoccupied with his work so doesn't spare me a glance when I come in. He does mutter a quick thanks when I give him the plans.

Later, when I was about to get ready for bed, Aemond finally comes back. He bursts into the room and immediately barks, "you gave my grandsire the plans?!"

"He asked for them. He said he needed them, finished or no-"

"But they were not finished!"

"They are finished," I correct.

Aemond is about to speak but then he stops himself. He shakes his head, "what?"

"I wrote some alternative plans on a separate piece of paper."

Aemond's eye widens, "you what?"

Before I can explain any further, he is out the door again. I huff and follow after him, "Aemond!"

"You meddled with official business of the crown," he hisses, "and you've posed as me while doing it!"

He quickly makes his way down the hall. I have to sprint to keep up with him and gather my skirts in my hand.

"Grandsire," Aemond calls the moment he opens the office door.

I release a breath and heave through my nostrils, following after my husband as he walks into the room. I watch as Otto barely lifts his eyes from his paper, "yes? Need anything?"

Aemond stops in front of his desk, "the plans. My wife said you asked her to give them to you, finished or not."

"Yes," Otto says simply, "they're here," he flips a page, "well done."

It takes a moment for those words to register, and when they do, Aemond's eye widens. He stands in disbelief.

I look at him and his grandsire. A moment passes and I decide to take his arm, muttering we shouldn't disturb Lord Hightower anymore.

"Wait, the plans were well done?" Aemond asks.

Otto stops what he was doing. He looks at Aemond then sighs, "they were rushed but better than what I've gotten from others."

Aemond's lips part.

Otto raises a brow, "do you expect a prize for it?"

The prince turns to me then back to the man, "I didn't do those pla-"

"Don't be silly!" I cut him off, "you did the plans as well as you could."

Aemond eyes me as I pull him close.

"Prince Aemond attended to a lot of husbandly duties, which was why he had little time to attend to that," I smile, "I am glad to hear that his plans are still well done regardless."

Otto turns to me, Aemond, then his papers, "you should continue to direct your efforts into producing children."

I give a chuckle that no one reciprocates. I tug Aemond back, "good night then, my lord."

Otto hums, once again not sparing us a glance.

I release a sigh once we exit the office.

"What kind of proposals did you give?" Aemond asks.

I turn to him.

I do not get to respond when he presses, "why didn't you let me say it was your doing?"

Though his questioning was rather hostile, I offer him a smile, "they were proposals you would have thought of anyway. Your grandsire was pleased. Why change that?"

Aemond pulls his arm out of my grip. We stop to stare at each other in the middle of the hall.

"Whatever it is you think you're doing-"

"I'm not doing anything besides doing my duty as your wife."

Aemond's jaw hardens. He looks me up and down, "what did you do with the lavender and oranges?"

"I gave them to Lord Hightower."

Aemond furrows his brows. He stares at me for a moment, debating my words as he did, then walks off.

I allow him a few paces head start before following after him.

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

All of my work is rated M or E (18+ only. If you’re under 18 this isn’t the space for you) and is ofc or xfemreader unless otherwise noted. Mind the tags. No use of y/n. You can also find me on ao3. My Misc. Masterlist is here and Star Wars Masterlist is here.

I do not give permission for any of my work to be translated, reposted, or plugged into AI.

Aemond Targaryen

they say I killed you (haunt me then) - Aemond x ofc Wylla Karstark | completed | Wylla Karstark is content with her life in the far reaches of the North, happy even. She has everything she ever thought she needed. Until Aemond Targaryen tumbles from the sky, abandoned by his dragon and left at her mercy.

Paper Crowns - mafia au | Aemond x ofc Viserra Velaryon | Completed | Viserra Velaryon has never buckled under the weight of her legacy, of all that she stands to inherit. The oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, she has always understood her place in the world, in her family. But when her grandfather passes, leaving behind an incomplete will and a bloodthirsty widow intent on securing her children's inheritance, she finds herself in the middle of a war that she isn't sure how to fight. Her enemy? The boy she once loved, the man she's learned to hate.

Iron and Ash - When he looked at you it was as if he had peeled the dress from your body, the skin from your bones; you had never felt more bare than when the prince gazed from across whatever room you were in, his eye fixed on you and you alone.

You've Got My Body (Flesh and Bone) - Her violet eyes crashed against his like waves against a rocky shore and the mismatched jewel tones of his gaze had her feeling dizzy; she could just make out her reflection in the facets of the sapphire he wore in place of his right eye. Without thinking, she raised her other hand, tracing the line of his scar even though she knew he couldn't feel it beneath the knot of roughly healed tissue.

Shimmer - He was hot to the touch, as if he burned with fever, and you supposed in a way, he did. He burned for you, he burned in the way that only a dragon could, with the same fire that you felt heat your own

Daemon Targaryen

Meet Me In the After - Daemon Targaryen x oc Sabitha Blackwood | upcoming | The realm holds its breath as Queen Aemma approaches the end of her pregnancy. The king proclaims loudly to any that will listen that she will finally give him a living son, an heir, and all around him rejoice. But Aemma knows, after two stillbirths, three miscarriages, and a son lost in the cradle, that Viserys will not get his wish. Dreams plague the queen, dreams of fire and blood and a dead boy in a cursed crown. Sent to court to attend Queen Aemma two years prior, Lady Sabitha Blackwood is privy to all the queen's fears, to the anxieties that plague her daughter, Princess Rhaenyra, and the pressures of court that eat at her dear friend, Lady Alicent Hightower. Stuck in a loveless marriage with a husband who grows crueler with each month that passes without an heir of his own, Sabitha finds herself preening under the attentions of the king's brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen. As the two fall deeper into a torrid and dangerous affair, the worst comes to pass.

The queen is dead, the king's heir with her, and all eyes fall on the young women closest to her. Will Rhaenyra truly be named heir? Why do the king's eyes follow Lady Alicent? And what does Sabitha know that puts her in the gravest of danger?

When It Comes To You (My World Is Deep Red) - “Is that what you seek? A great love story?” she asked with a raised brow, dismissive of the notion that Daemon Targaryen would be swayed by something so simple as that.

Salt in the Wound | completed | There was a reason they said the Targaryens were closer to gods than men; it wasn’t just their dragons that held them separate, that held them above. No, it was the way that once every handful of generations, one came along that held the ability to tear the world apart with their bare hands, to rend it with their teeth, to melt it down and attempt to recreate it in their own image.

evening star | Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen | A queen, locked high in her tower, a rose in a glass case.A knight in the form of a sharp tongued, silver-haired princess.A violet-eyed villain who speaks like a lover. Alicent has hardened herself against the promise of a gentle touch. Daemon has learned to taste love in the blood he licks from his blades. And Rhaenyra, lost in the fog of her father’s neglect, finds that she is the tie that binds. What does it mean for the realm when the Queen in Chains, the Realms Delight, and the Rogue Prince come together to create a light in the dark?

Jacaerys Velaryon & Helaena Targaryen

For the Love of a Princess - “Your fascination with me will be your death,” she said, arching up toward him, his shaky exhale ghosting over her face. She had no idea why she said it, though surely her mother would call for his head if they were caught, a replacement for the eye her desperate bid for justice could not procure.

The Conquerors (Visenya, Rhaenys, and Aegon I Targaryen)

Afterlife - She was not the wife he had wanted. He was not the husband she had wanted. All that connected them was lost now. “It should have been me.” The words came out in a whisper and Visenya wept.

Aegon II Tagaryen

Lips Like Lightning (Skin So Sweet) - This moment was just a miniscule light in the dark. But any light was better than none. Tomorrow she would leave, heading home to Volantis to start the new year back in her real life. And Aegon Targaryen, whoever he was, would go back to the people in the pictures.

heaven is not meant to house a love (like you and I) - Aegon Targaryen and his wonderful, fantastic, very good day. A they say I killed you (haunt me then) outtake, set one year before the main story. A birthday gift for @emilykaldwen

[techwrecker]

𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞

Summary: You don't want Wrecker to leave for the day.

Genre: x reader fluff

Tags: gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, ficlet, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: Translations for Mando'a are at the end! (please forgive if they are not accurate- I did my best...)

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

AO3

Soft morning sunlight gently pulls you from the unconscious oblivion of sleep, tugging at your eyelids to open. You refuse the warm, beckoning call. Opening your eyes means returning to reality— to ripping apart a wonderful thing.

‘Wrecker.’ 

Your first thought of the day. Still weighted with slumber, your arm stretches its heavy way, reaching toward the other side of the bed. It finds its warm, solid mark. Eyes still shut against the world, you relax your arm, draping it across his massive frame and pulling yourself closer into him. You nuzzle against his back, trying to fall back into sleep. The sun’s warmth is nothing compared to his strong, muscled shoulders. His masculine musk is so sweet, his body so comforting. You want to continue to lay with him like this for hours on end, simply existing together in the world of the half-asleep.

After a moment of pure morning bliss, Wrecker sighs lightly, twisting between the sheets to face you. He is blocking the sun from your eyes with his wide build. “Mesh’la,” he whispers, breath gently brushing against your cheeks and scooping your hand in his.

“Mm?” You reply, barely audible.

“It’s mornin’,” he says quietly, his deep voice dripping with dreams from the night before. 

You finally open your eyes in the shade he’s  providing. Wrecker’s face is but inches from yours, his tender brown eyes are looking at you with all the gentle love and admiration the galaxy has to offer.

“Already?” You ask, pouting.

“Already,” he confirms, bringing his palm up from under the blankets to cup the side of your face. His large thumb sweeps softly against your cheek. “Rise ’n’ shine, cyar’ika.”

“You can’t stay just this once?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

 Wrecker leans to close the gap between you, slightly tilting your head down, and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You know I can’t,” he says against your forehead. 

He gives you another kiss, lingering a second longer. His fingers and lips leave an aching want beneath them. He pulls away and lets his hand go back up to your face. You look at him pleadingly, your hands finding their way to rest on his scarred, firm chest. Wrecker was never one to refuse your silent asks of affection. He leans forward and turns his head to slot his lips perfectly into yours. You close your eyes and let him take the lead. He may be a giant in stature, but he is always gentle with you. You close your eyes and feel his arms pull you closer to him. You want to wrap your arms and legs around him to keep him here, with you, but you are nowhere close to being able to hold him down. He barely gives you a moment to revel in his kisses before he pulls away and flings the covers off his body, exposing you to the sudden chill. You groan and lean back into the pillows, telling yourself it really is time to get ready for the day. You know he gets so much joy out of his work, but sometimes you wish he would just lay with you for a whole morning. The rest of the Batchers are fully capable of completing a mission without him.

Wrecker is already standing at the open, metal closet, pulling out his standardized blacks that all clones wear under their armor. You watch as he steps into the stretchy material. His muscles flex, tight, against his skin as he yanks them up his body. You can’t help but admire his physique. The sun is reflecting perfectly off his tan skin. He catches your gaze in the mirror and smiles confidently.

“What are you lookin’ at?”

“Just you, darling,” you reply.

“Are you ever gonna crawl out of that bed of ours?”

“I was thinking about it,” you say, stretching your arms into the air, desperately reaching for the motivation to get up. “But the view from here is just too good to give up yet.”

Somehow, his smile widens even further at your flirty words. Was that a hint of blush growing across his cheeks? You prop yourself up against your arm, chin resting in your hand, elbow pressing into the mattress, to watch as Wrecker finishes assembling his uniform. As he makes the final adjustments to his shin guards, you sweep your legs over the side of the bed and pad over to him. He pulls you into him, wrapping his strong arms around the small of your back. You give a small yelp as he raises you up to be face to face. Wrecker’s hugs give you the ultimate sense of comfort and stability. Even separated by the plastoid armor, he somehow manages to warm you right up.

“Good morning, cyar’ika,” he says, beaming.

“Good morning, my love.”

Wrecker presses his lips against yours and you melt into him. You are both so in tune with each other that this romantic dance needs no practiced choreography. It is as natural and as easy as breathing. Careful so as not to break the connection of bliss, Wrecker gently places you back on the floor, keeping his arms wrapped around your back. You feel him start to pull away so you bring both hands up to his face, not wanting him to leave just yet. He obliges and kisses you deeper. You know this is his goodbye for the day. You finally release him from the soft hold, knowing it’s harder on him when he leaves for the day. Wrecker breathes you in and rests his forehead against yours. Wrecker gives you one last, quick kiss before finally letting go and walks out of the bedroom to finish getting ready. 

You pull on a fresh set of clothes and move out to the common area, waiting for him on the sofa. This was the hardest part of the day, watching him leave your shared dwelling to take on whatever mission Hunter has in store for the Batchers, but it makes him so happy and you would never ask him to resign his duties only for you. You want him to feel fulfilled in every aspect of life, but you would be lying to him and yourself if your heart didn’t break every time he walks out the door. 

You hear the water shut off and you sink deeper into the cushions. He finds you curled up and offers his hand to you to pull you back to your feet for the last goodbye.

“Are you absolutely, positively sure you have to go today?” You ask as you stand. 

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says, giving you a pitiful look. “Plus, Tech and Echo have been working on this new bomb, and I can’t wait to try it out.”

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes, my love.”

Wrecker, suddenly overcome with affection for you, envelops you in another hug, tighter than before. He wants to make sure it stays with you all day.

“Mesh’la,” he whispers into your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrecker. Cuyir morut'yc ner kar’ta.”

“Always am.” He smiles lovingly, impressed by your Mando’a. “I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone, cyar’ika.”

You slump back into the sofa, watching as Wrecker heads to the door. He gives you one last longing look before walking out the door. The love of your life is gone, and you are alone. But one thing will always remain true. Wrecker will always return home to you.

Cuyir morut'yc ner kar’ta: be safe, my heart

Taglist: @rinksu-no-joo @hersforthebreaking @baddest-batchers

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 1

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the 'lost' daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Note: This is x reader but I have given ‘you’ a name. Also I needed Radagast for this story but I think technically she’d have been born before he even arrived but let’s just ignore that. If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters let me know. Translations: lothíriel (flower-garlanded maiden) anarórë (sunrise) vanwa (lost) aranel (princess) melui (lovely)

“Lothíriel!” Radagast cried out the nickname he had called you since you were but a babe in his arms, standing at the door of his little cottage deep in the forest of Mirkwood. His fingers curled around his wooden staff as he looked this way and that, brows furrowed with just the mildest hint of frustration. He was rather used to this song and dance by now. You would seemingly go missing from right under his large nose, sneaking off through the trees to mingle with the wildlife and sing to the flowers. You were a daughter of the forest, sure enough, and there was seemingly nothing that Radagast could do to keep you in check. Not that he would ever wish to dampen your spirit or dim your light, but it was his job to keep you safe and sound, after all. Keep you... hidden.

A great many years had passed since the days when this task had been appointed to him. Since that fateful day of your birth in Lindon when the Enchantress had dared show her face, laying ruin to all that could have been for you. Then the darker days that followed still. The Last Alliance. Your father, High King Gil-Galad, being slain by Sauron himself, alongside King Oropher. Dark days, indeed.

You knew nothing of any of this and that was how Radagast intended to keep it. For now. You were i vanwa aranel, as the tales told, the lost princess... and you needed to remain that way for at least another thousand years or so yet. When the full danger of the Enchantress was no longer a danger to you.

“Anarórë!” Radagast called again, using the name that you had been given just before being smuggled from Lindon under the cover of darkness. Your name was the only thing your father had been able to give you and he had gifted you the name that his beloved Queen had longed to bestow upon you - naming you after her most favourite time of day - before she was killed by the evil Enchantress that was to blame for your being out here and not in the halls of a palace as was your birthright.

“Ooh!” Radagast shook his head, turning to the bird on his shoulder with a worried expression as he heaved a sigh. He was always prone to concern, especially when you were not within his line of eyesight. “Now where has she gotten to!”

You were rather far away from the cottage where you had grown up, and from your uncle Radagast, whom you loved with your entire being but who could at times, to be quite frank, drive you rather mad. He made such a big deal of keeping you safe but some days it could feel like you were suffocating. Like treading water and never being able to move forwards. Some days it seemed that he would have enchanted the cottage to keep you inside at all times if he could. Still, you knew that he simply loved you and wished to keep you from harm.

The Greenwood was beginning to change, even you could feel that. There were pockets of thick, suffocating darkness and you could have sworn that once you saw a spider. Not just any spider but the largest spider you had ever seen in your whole life. It was said that the Elvenking was preparing to lead his people further north across the forest river due to this growing shadow.

Despite being an elf yourself, you had never met any of the wood elves that lived under the Elvenking’s rule. In truth, you did not even know the King’s name. You had watched a few of them in secret but you had never dared approach them. Radagast had always explicitly told you never to speak to strangers and something about the look in his eyes made you realise that he had some genuine reason and you followed that rule rather explicitly.

Still, you did not understand why, for how could you? How could you know that evil could take the fairest of forms to trick you into its clutches? How could you know that such evils were indeed looking for you? Actively seeking you out all over this world and had been since your birth? Radagast kept your history from you to keep you safe. As far as anybody need know, you were naught but a simple elf-maid dwelling beneath the trees of the Greenwood.

Still, it could be lonely, and you often imagined yourself outing your own presence and being welcomed into the fray of others of your kind. You adored your uncle, you truly did, and you loved your life in these woods with the wizard - but some days only conversing and interacting with him and the squirrels could become quite tiresome in a sense.

“Hey!” You laughed, lifting your gaze as a little robin gently tugged on strands of your hair from where it hovered in the air beside your head. Your thoughts melted away as you turned your focus to the little creature, suddenly realising that it was not alone. A group of familiar little animals were lined up on a nearby tree branch, looking down at you rather expectantly.

“There you are!” You chuckled, moving closer and reaching out to run your fingers through some of their fur and feathers. “I was beginning to think that you had all decided to abandon me this day!”

The animals tittered and shifted, little sounds coming from some of them as they shook their heads in dismay, eager to let you know that they would never! This little group of beasts made up some of your closest friends in this wood and a lot of days you would meet them in the clearing and pass your afternoon together.

“Oh, I am only teasing.” You laughed brightly, moving over to sit upon a fallen log, gazing up at the sky.

One of the birds began chirping and you turned to look at them, shaking your head a little as they told you Radagast was looking for you. “Well, I am not ready to go back yet.” You replied. “I have barely been out of the house in the last few days.” Another little chatter from the bird came, telling you he was worried there were strangers in the woods, and you shook your head. “He needn’t bother. Even when there is, I do not approach them. Does he not trust me? Sometimes he treats me as thought I am still a child!”

A soft silence fell upon the clearing, all your little friends looking sad as they contemplated your words, your loneliness. Even they seemed to know that even though you had them, and even though you had Radagast, perhaps it wasn’t always enough.

“Come on now!” You chuckled, brightening a little. “Let us not dwell on all of that. I will go back soon, I promise. He will not start to truly panic for another while yet.” You knew him well enough to know that you had some time to spare before he came charging through the trees with his trusty rabbit sled. “Come, keep me company while I pick some berries. Tonight I am going to make some more cakes!”

A distance away through the trees, a large brown elk was moving at a gentle trot. Astride him sat a lone rider, shoulders straight and guard up just slightly. His long white hair was cascading down his shoulders, free of any elaborate adornments, and as he rode he looked about him, studying the forest.

King Thranduil was travelling alone, something that he did not always do anymore, but his trusty swords were at his side and he knew that, if necessary, his elk could outrun any dangers that they may come upon. If he did not get them first. There was a shadow falling somewhere, he could sense it, but it was still faint and with any luck it would stay that way.

Thranduil turned his attention to the path ahead of him as he moved through the forest, aware that he would have to turn back soon and return to his realm. There was a lot to do, many preparations to make, however he had been rather needing a little bit of peace and quiet. He could defend himself well enough and it had been some time since he had been able to be truly alone. He had a heavy weight on his shoulders and he had since his father, Oropher, had fallen to Sauron, leaving him to rule. Thus the Prince had become the King overnight and, while Thranduil had often had an urge to flee and hide, it was not a whim that he would give into.

As his elk moved through the trees, Thranduil suddenly became aware of a sound filtering through all the other woodland noises. It wasn’t exactly close by and it appeared to be coming from somewhere to his right, which was not the direction he needed to go, but he found himself pulled towards it somehow.

It was somebody singing, he realised, and he normally would have simply smiled and left them to it but it was such a beautfiful melody, a voice the likes of which he was not sure he had ever heard before in all his years - and Thranduil had heard a lot of singing in his lifetime.

“Melui...” He murmured to himself, lost in the beautiful tune for a few moments before he stirred again and urged his elk to the right, struck by the sudden desire to find whoever could produce such a sweet sound.

“Come on, my friend... this way." He directed to his elk as he gently tugged the reins to redirect the beast, heading off in the direction of the singing, not caring if it was perhaps a little out of his way as his curiosity got the better of him.

His elk snorted, disgruntled at going off track, though it reminded the animal a little of the prince of old and it easily gave in, shaking its large head as it trundled off through the trees in the direction its master commanded.