#also an excuse to put him in a dress again

[malk-with-tea]

Ocs/Descarn x Hollow Knight for the spooky season :D!!

[blondeaxolotl]

One of the few headcanons I somewhat really attach onto is just my hc that Jamil is Bigender and goes by He/She. But in the way that you have to have such an INSANELY CLOSE BOND with Jamil in order to be allowed to refer to him as "she". You can't be an average joe and call him "she", cause if you do that, not only will your ass get beat, but your ass is getting beat so hard you wake up five months later cause you were put in a coma.

Surprisingly one of the few people that are allowed to call Jamil "she" is Kalim, but only when they're by themselves, since Kalim realized he can't go around referring to Jamil as her in public or that will influence others into doing it as well and Jamil wouldn't like that, so he's keeping it low.

Also yeah because I CAN, yes, Floyd is allowed to call Jamil she as well (<- flojami maniac), but unlike Kalim, Floyd doesn't hide it in public that much unless Jamil asks him to. Thankfully no one is influenced by him cause whenever someone else calls Jamil she , Floyd will full on go "oh you can't call Sea Snake that, you aren't allowed to, now I have to get rid of you. C'mere" and chase them around the school on all fours like some paralysis demon until someone physically stops him

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[brattyspence]

sober thoughts | s.reid

summary: pining!reader makes a drunk call to spencer after going out with friends, and is aggressively trying to flirt with him. 

tags: reader is DRUNK! alcohol!! dont read if thats not okay!!, fluffy as fuck, spencer is the most gentle of gentlemen, pining!reader, reader wears makeup/dress/heels, spencer is lowkey bad at flirting but he shows affection in weird ways, one use of Y/N (sorry i know)

a/n: this has been bouncing around in my head for a while. sigh.

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

He was used to seeing you tipsy, if that was even the right word for it. 

You were friends, after all. Best friends, even. And the fact that he lived only a few doors down from the pub the team frequented made it stupid not to offer his couch to you after going out with the team. 

You weren’t a heavy drinker by any stretch of the imagination. Every now and then on a Friday night, you’d head out with the team and have one, maybe two drinks if you were feeling particularly adventurous–but you still didn’t want to drive home, especially when he was offering his home to you. Truthfully, you just liked getting to hang out with him. You liked getting to exist in his orbit and discuss a random topic late into the night. It had become normal for you, an excuse to do something together that didn’t revolve around work. 

What was not normal was the fact that it was a Saturday at 11 PM and you were really drunk, calling him. 

Your contact photo filled his screen, illuminating the dark room. You weren’t one to call, preferring the convenience of a text. Especially this late, which worried him a bit. He picked up quickly, tucking the phone to his ear.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Hey, Spencer?” It wasn’t your voice. “This is Molly, Y/N’s friend. I’m sorry to call so late. We’re out with some friends from college celebrating someone’s birthday, and she got… like, drunk drunk, kinda sloppy… and she’s been blabbing about you for a while. She wanted me to call you.”

“Oh,” he sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, preparing himself. “Can you put her on?”

“Yeah. Not sure you’ll get anything out of her, though. Here…”

He can hear the general chatter and chaos of the bar over the call. There’s some rustling sounds before you finally take the phone.

“Hi,” you say, your voice dripping with a certain kind of fondness. He can hear the smile through the screen. 

“Hey,” he replies. ”You having fun?”

“Oh, Spencer, I was… I haven’t heard your voice in so long. What’re you…” you trail off, lifting the phone from your ear to answer someone else. “Sorry. ‘S so loud in here.

He chuckles to himself. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Yeah, ‘nd that was… Oh, I can’t do math right now. A long time ago.”

“Are you okay?”

On the other side of town, you were sitting in a barstool, swiping your finger along the beads of condensation rolling down the glass of water in front of you. 

“Mhm. ‘M good. Fine. Drunk.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he smiles. “Are you gonna be able to get home?”

“Uhh…” you pause. “I was gonna Uber… but then I thought that maybe… if you weren't busy… we could hang out…” 

He could vaguely make out dialog on the other end of the phone. Some kind of “Girl, this sounds really pathetic,” followed by a “Shhhh!” in two other drunken voices.

“But I could also make Molly order me an Uber,” you added. “‘S okay. Nevermind.”

“No, you're not getting in an Uber inebriated. That’s ridiculous.”

“‘M not inebriated.”

A background voice comes back. “Yeah, you are.”

Spencer sighs into the phone. “Just… send me your location, please? I’ll come get you.”

“O-kay. ‘M sending it right now, jus’ tell me when you-”

The call went dead before you could finish your thought, which he chalked up to some kind of drunken user error. A few seconds later a text came through 

You: dropped a pin

You: its molly again. let me know if you got this

He responded, relieved that you had someone looking after you, before getting ready and grabbing his keys. 

-

You were sitting on a bench outside the bar. The air was cool and crisp, but you were warm, your skin clammy from the alcohol. You had been mumbling something incoherent about Spencer, he’s just so good to me, Molly, and oh, god, I don’t know what to do with myself, and…

Molly, who had been trying to sober you up (unsuccessfully), was standing in front of you, arms crossed, listening to your incessant rambling.

“...’nd sometimes he talks to me, ‘nd I have no idea what he’s talking about but he’s so hot when he’s smart. You should hear, it, Mol’.”

Cars pass on the street behind you, filling the silence momentarily. Molly looks over her shoulder, scanning the street before turning back to you. “Alright. Be quiet. He’s here” 

“Don’t care.”

She puts her hand out to help you up, which you accept rising to your feet. You’re surprised by how unsteady you feel, but you focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I’ll make fun of you for this tomorrow,” she says. 

You only have a few seconds to grumble in protest before Spencer reaches you. He scans you quickly, chuckling to himself.

“You are a mess,” he says, amused. 

You feel slightly infantilized watching Molly hand over all your personal effects to him. You weren’t even sure when you’d put down your wallet and keys, much less where, but you’re thankful she picked them up and not someone else.

“Good luck,” She tells him. She pats your arm before turning back to the bar, leaving you alone on the street with him. 

“You okay?” He asks. You watch him shuck off his jacket, which he helps you slide over your arms.

“‘M fine,” you reply. “Warm.”

“Because you’re drunk.” He keeps his eyes trained on the zipper of the jacket, or really anywhere that isn't you in that dress. “Alcohol is a vasodilator. So you feel warm. But it's forty degrees outside, and hypothermia doesn't care.”

You pout at him, watching as he pulls the zipper tab up enough to shield you from the cold. Only then does he really look at you. 

“I wanted you to see my pretty dress,” you pout. Your words come out slurred still. 

You meet his eyes for a split second. He opens his mouth, seemingly about to reply, but quickly decides against it. He shakes his head as if to clear the thought.

“Come on. We gotta get you home.” 

“You don't like it?” 

“I didn't say that.” He tucks a hand under your arm as you begin back down the street, keeping you steady. 

“So you do like it?” You look over at him, your face more excited than he was expecting. 

“It’s very pretty,” he replies.

Your shoulder bumps his as you walk, seemingly unable to maintain a straight path along the sidewalk. The click of your heels against the pavement is uneven, despite your efforts to maintain some kind of composure, and unfortunately for you, he’s right, and it's freezing outside. You make steady progress down the block, placing all your focus on not falling flat on your face. Thankfully, he doesn't live all that far.

“D’you think I look pretty, too?” You ask, approaching the steps to his apartment.

“What are you trying to do?” he asks, looking down at you. He takes in the slight flush of your cheeks as the effects of the alcohol battle the chill in the air.

“I’m trying to flirt with you. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, you're going to be difficult all night, aren't you?” He sighs, ignoring the question. He pauses outside the door, keys in hand, and unlocks the door before guiding you inside. 

“You don't ever want to flirt with me.”

The door falls shut behind you with a clunk. The room is dark, with only the distant light from a lamp somewhere across the room illuminating it. You squint when he turns on the big light.

“That’s not true,” he says, quietly. If you weren’t hanging on to his every word, you might have missed it. He carefully unzips the jacket, tugging it off your shoulders and setting it on the table.

“So why won’t you flirt with me right now?” 

“Because you’re drunk,” He guides you towards the couch, his touch still careful as ever. 

You flop down onto the cushions. The leather sticks to your legs as you sit. Being the gentleman he is, he has already left pajamas out, his pajamas, you’d since claimed as your own, with the blanket you steal every time you stay over. 

“So what?” You begin working at the clasp on your heels, fumbling with the leather straps to no avail. 

“So, you’re drunk.” He repeats, reappearing in front of you. He sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, and hands you a pack of makeup wipes. “Do you need help with your shoes?” 

You nod. A soft breath of laughter escapes him as he leans in to help you take them off, setting them on the carpeted floor. 

“Spence,” you look at the pack of wipes. “Why do you have these?”

“Because every time you’re here you forget them,” he replies. 

“Oh.” You rip them open. “You don’t have a secret girlfriend?”

“No,” he replies, lowering your foot back to the ground. 

“You don't let other drunk girls sleep over?” You paw at your eyeliner, effectively smearing it around more than removing it. 

“I don't let anyone sleep over,” he says, taking the wipe from you. “Just you. Close your eyes.”

“Because you love me?” 

His fingers find the underside of your chin, gently tilting your face towards his so he can finish swiping away the last of your eyeliner. Maybe you’re blushing as a result of the alcohol warming your bloodstream, but the more likely answer is him, at this proximity. 

As soon as he’s done wiping your eyes, you open them again to look up at him. 

“You’re bold when you’re drunk,” he says, smiling. He sets the used wipe down on the table.

“Mhm. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not going to,” He says. “Sorry. Go get changed.”

“That wasn’t a ‘no’,” you say. You collect the clothes off the couch and slink across the apartment into the bathroom to change. You don’t bother shutting the bathroom door before slinking off the dress you were wearing and sliding on the pajamas he’d left for you. Once you finish, you collect your dress off the floor and make your way back towards the couch, settling right into the cushions as you frequently did on nights like this. 

You were formulating another complaint about his lack of reciprocation, but your thoughts were interrupted as he pulled the blanket on his couch over you. Your blanket, or at least one you’d claimed as your own during one of your nights spent here. He had already turned off the ceiling fan, which you’d always insisted off when you slept over. You followed him with your gaze as he turned the lights off, swapping them instead for a smaller, softer light somewhere in the kitchen, remembering the way you’d always insisted he leave a light on somewhere, just for you. Your phone was already charging on a side table, your heels sitting nicely by the door, your keys on his key holder, evidence of you, everywhere, details that were distinctly for your comfort. Maybe you had missed his signals. 

“I think you do love me…” 

He reappeared a moment later, crouching in front of you with that look. He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Go to sleep.”

“And I love you. And I called you because I wanted to tell you that.” 

“You really need to sleep it off. You’re saying things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean it,” you whined. “I swear. Ask me again tomorrow.”

“You won’t remember this tomorrow,” he laughed. 

“But I will. I promise,” you replied. “No bedtime kiss?”

Of course, this time you did pick up the way he looked at you. 

“No, honey. Maybe tomorrow.”

[iannmin]

KINKS THAT THEY PROBABLY HAVE ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚. ,, 최승철 | 김민규 | 전원우

🏷️ ⋆｡˚. mdni! 18+, this is purely fictional and does not depict the people in real life, dollification, overstim, cockwarming

🗒️ ⋆｡˚. the nastiest holy trinity ;), btw it’s not really well proof-read like the other fics so if i make any grammar mistakes please ignore <3

୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

DOLLIFICATION + BREEDING ⋆｡˚. SEUNGCHEOL

Omg just don’t get me started with this one,, remember how cheol likes to dress up kkuma, putting up all the cute princessy accessories on her? Oh boy,, he’s most probably wanna do the same to his s/o — buying them the most innocent looking frilly dresses coupled with those cute ribbon shaped pins just to absolutely ruin the fuck out of them. Like just imagine him pounding up your tight hole in that dress, watching it get absolutely soaked by loads and loads of his cum seeping out of your ruined cunt after. “Fuck princess, you like that huh? Acting all pretty and innocent when all you’re made for is just to take my load” and you’ll be too fucked out to even verbally answer as he grabs both sides of your waist and practically drill into your pussy with his huge cock.

OVERSTIMULATION + LOTS OF CUM ⋆｡˚. MINGYU

Nahhh,, his muscular biceps and long hours spent at the gym is all for show, really. He’s just a big boy who wants his cock ruined and milked dry till the point he’s seeing absolute stars. Can you imagine running the pocket pussy up and down his veiny cock for hours and hours until his entire stomach and thighs are absolutely glistening with his cum? But he doesn’t want it to stop. Ever. “Nnnggh…ahhh….f-fuck! No! N-not there…gonna cum again!” His pathetic pleas and whines always fall onto death ears because really,, you know he doesn’t want it to end. He’ll keep going at it until the ring of white cum around the base of his cock is absolutely thick to the point where the pocket pussy’s all coated. He’s also the type to just absolutely love messy sex, marking his cum everywhere, not caring about the consequences because he’ll clean it up anyways

COCKWARMING ⋆｡˚. WONWOO

As for wonwoo, boy’s a homebody, a game boy. He’s always glued to his PC 24/7 whenever he’s home. But one thing for sure is he certainly loves the idea of his s/o sitting on his lap on his gaming chair, his grey sweatpants hastily pulled down to his thighs because he was simply too impatient to pull them off completely, with his cock fully buried in his s/o. And when i mean fully buried, i mean fully buried as in the base of his cock touches his s/o’s ass. But of course, after a short while, he might “accidentally” start shifting in his chair, making an excuse of “adjusting” his seat just so that he can lift his s/o’s hip up and slam their cunt right back onto his dick. And when his s/o falls asleep on his lap he pauses his game and gives them a sharp thrust up their hole, letting them know that they should be paying attention to him

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the former sect leader, Yue Qingyuan's shizun, right before Yue Qi shows up at the selection trials.

Shen Yuan is not sure why he's in one of his all-time hate-reads, let alone why he's gone so far back before the story actually begins (his system appears to be malfunctioning? something about an error and emergency backup...?), but he's making the most of it. This despite the fact that being a sect leader is a much more prestigious and political role than he likes.

But Shen Yuan is, at heart, actually a pretty good teacher, and he's spent enough time witnessing administrative work secondhand that he can competently tackle most of his duties. Whatever he can't handle, luckily there are other masters on Qiong Ding who always seem eager to curry favor by volunteering at the least hint that they should. Apparently his predecessor was known for being kind of cold-blooded and ruthless. (Shen Yuan gets checked for possession and it's concluded behind his back that he most have lost some of his memories, again, but also everyone kinda prefers this version anyway, again.)

But, so, he picks Yue Qi at the trials without even realizing at first who he's selecting, but just because that kid seems really determined to get in and clearly has been through it. Reminds him of Luo Binghe. Even when he puts it all together, all he feels mostly is kind of bad about it? He never thought Yue Qingyuan was sufficiently villainous to merit his end, even though he didn't blame Binghe for it either. He was always a mystery, an apparently kind person who nevertheless had some inexplicable fondness for the scum villain, turned a blind eye towards his abuses, and got dragged down with him. Shen Yuan feels even worse when he actually gets to know his solemn, smiling, secretive little disciple.

Yue Qi is very determined to advance, and as quickly as possible. Shen Yuan admonishes him. Obviously this kid has a protagonist-like aura and a similar drive to get places quickly, but you can't speedrun your disciple era, Mr. Future Sect Leader! There's no montage mode! Most of his attempts at intervening meet a brick wall that is Yue Qi's impenetrable smile and polite deference if he even hints at displeasure (this kid's gonna make a great politician one day), but Shen Yuan changes tactics and starts manufacturing excuses for breaks, taking Yue Qi on him with trips off the mountain and finding reasons to stop at local festivals and hot springs and etc. He can tell something's off with the quality of frustration that his disciple sometimes expresses, with how there's fear to it, but he's at a loss for the cause and it's difficult to get Yue Qi to talk. Despite appearances, he's actually very distrustful of adults.

When Yue Qi asks to claim his sword early, Shen Yuan says no. He remember how reputedly powerful Xuan Su was, and his disciple definitely needs a stronger base if he's going to pull a sword of that caliber. But he suspects this won't go over well, and when he catches Yue Qi sneaking off to Wan Jian Peak on his own, his disciple finally breaks down and admits that he needs to get strong in order to save his most important person.

Shen Yuan is moved. The way Yue Qi speaks, he's certain this person is a young maiden whom his student has fallen in love with. Truly, the sect leader was so very similar to Luo Binghe at heart! He must have failed in the original story, and that contributed to his difficulties and sorrows later on. Of course Shen Yuan will help him rescue his sweetheart!

Even if his sweetheart is... surprisingly butch? And is a slave owned by the Qiu family, and, wait a second, that name is kind of familiar... oh.

Oh dear.

Shen Yuan is internally screaming even as he helps buy Xiao Jiu out of bondage, even as he gives Yue Qi money to get his newly rescued friend all cleaned up and suitably dressed for the trip back to Cang Qiong, even as he buys the boys tanghulu for a treat, even as the System cheerfully informs him that his new quest is to get Xiao Jiu accepted onto Qing Jing Peak, even as Yue Qi tears up for the first time when he thanks him for helping.

He can only get to sleep that night by consoling himself with the knowledge that his generation is going to retire well before Luo Binghe and The Plot actually show up.

The System: (〜￣▽￣)〜

5 Years Later:

Huan Hua Palace Master: Sect Leader, we need your help! A terrible Heavenly Demon has come to threaten the whole of human society!

Shen Yuan: That's not possible. He isn't even born yet.

HHP Master: What?

Shen Yuan: What?

[vincenteuniverse]

Ken's progression OUT of color

This is kinda a cornplate thought that I had nowhere else to put but I love how in the Barbie movie(SPOILERS), Ryan Gosling's Ken's outfits symbolically showcase his "descent" into full patriarchy mode over time.

At the beginning of the film Ken's beach outfit (his default) has an equal balance of pink and blue. Pink is obviously Barbie's color, and shows Ken as fitting well into the femininity and style of Barbieland, while blue could be argued to be Ken's color (a scene later when he's especially confident features him wearing all denim blue, and the stereotypical gender of these colors, especially when found in kid's toys, supports these basic binaries as associated with these colors).

When Ken decides to leave Barbieland with Barbie to delve into the outside world, his color scheme goes full pink, desperate enough to be with Barbie that his attire reflects how dependent his identity is on hers at this stage.

However, it isn't long before Ken's exploration of the real world leads him to exciting new discoveries about the patriarchy and what it can do for him. Here he is introduced to a newfound sense of self independent from barbie, and while he still carries a pink scarf around his neck, the rest of his outfit has devolved into black and white while hers has remained colorful. As he pursues this new-to-him idea further, his worldview is becoming less unique, pretty, and vibrant(in addition to becoming much more masculine).

It is only his scarf that ties him to Barbie now, and upon making the choice not to follow her to Mattel, he becomes fully independent, losing the scarf and any trace of pink in his attire the next time we see him in his mojo dojo casa house coat and beach off outfit underneath.

In his most masculine moment during "Just Ken", he and the other Kens all wear a uniform of the most traditionally male ben shapiro outfit ever: A T-Shirt, belt, and dress pants. All black(and no white either to contrast like the previous 2 outfits). It's fitting that the Kens, in their destructive warpath, imagine themselves as perfectly cleaned up yet violently masculine dancers in their heads, their outfits devoid of all of the flair and character of Barbieland.

(excuse the shitty picture) After Ken has his little self-growth moment, his new sweatshirt reflects the changed and much more balanced man he has become, much more accepting of himself and a life where he can co-exist with Barbie without being with her. This outfit is again an almost perfect balance of pink and blue, both sides of Ken now a bit more at peace, his colors not pushed out by the LITERALLY black hole of toxic masculinity.

The color scheme also matches the roller blading outfit, so perhaps it shows a somewhat intermediary stage of Ken's development wherein he is still attached to and at peace with Barbieland, but where he is starting to become more independent as well. anyway these are all fun and i genuinely have no fucking idea why Mattel didn't cash in on literally making dolls of all the characters and their outfits these would be so fun to own

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess

This prompt is a variation of good!GIW AU (read here), but that's an excuse because I just wanted badass Jasmine Fenton and her good boy Jason Todd.

"Jason?"

The voice catches him off-guard. Not because he doesn't know it, no, quite on the opposite - he knows that voice very well, he's just heard it this morning when his beautiful girlfriend kissed him on the cheek and left for work.

It's just that he didn't expect to hear it at a closed auction full of magic artifacts, two states away from Gotham, and in a room full of rich-ass people from all around the world.

He turns around.

Jazz is looking at him with an expression of pleasant surprise, black off-shoulder silk dress with teal accents draping her figure all the way down to the floor - it's kind of reminiscent of Greek togas, with high waist and lots of folds on the skirt. It also makes his girlfriend look even taller than she is, which, Jason is fairly certain, was intentional.

She is also wearing a necklace on her neck, and just by one look at it, Jason knows that it costs at least five times more than the apartment they live in.

"Jazz?" He breathes out, astonished, but then catches himself and puts on a smile, "You look stunning." This is not the time to argue or ask questions; he is on a mission. And it's a time sensitive one, so no matter how curious he is, it can wait till later. They do live together, after all.

"Thank you," the girl smiles, and then briefly turns her head to a tall man in a very expensive dark blue suit standing beside her, "If you excuse me," she nods with an apologetic smile in the corner of her lips, and the man smiles back and takes a step away. Meanwhile, Jazz approaches Jason and casually places a hand on his elbow.

"Mind telling me what are you doing here?" She questions, and, wait, that was supposed to be his line! Jason blinks and shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor.

He can't exactly say, 'Constantine asked Batman for a favor because he knows the man is rich as fuck, so now Jason has to either buy or steal an ancient dagger for some bullshit magic ritual because he was the only one free tonight and John really needs that dagger and that ritual and Bruce owes him a favor, unfortunately'. Jazz doesn't know he is a vigilante/crime lord in redemption. She might suspect he is - that girl is perceptive on par with mind readers - but Jason never straightforwardly told her, and she never brought it up herself.

So, instead, he goes, "Sightseeing."

Jazz raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks around the dimly lit room full of magic users, rich collectors, socialites, and other shady individuals. Jason keeps smiling. Eventually, the redhead sighs and looks away, taking a step forward and guiding him through the auction at a leisurely pace.

"Looking for anything in particular?" She tries again, and Jason debates if he should answer her. On one hand, his head is buzzing with thousands of questions, starting with 'how did you even make it here when your shift at Arkham ended two hours ago' and finishing with 'to which group of shady individuals do you belong'. On the other hand, she clearly does belong here if her confident posture and outfit are taken into account.

And she is his girlfriend. Has been one for two years now. Maybe it's time to share some secrets.

"An obsidian knife with an owl on the handle," he finally says, and Jazz hums.

"A Tecpatl?" She clarifies, and Jason doesn't even feel that surprised by her sudden knowledge of Aztec culture. He nods. Jazz gives him a thoughtful glance, "And how important is it for you to have it?"

"To the point where I'm prepared to steal it if I have to," he laughs, but judging by the look on Jazz's face, she gets that he is only half-joking. She narrows her eyes at him:

"Is it for you, or for your, um, friends on the orbit?" She asks, briefly glancing up to the ceiling, and Jason feels very confused for a second there.

But then it hits him: she is talking about the Watchtower. She is implying the League.

Jason doesn't hold back a quiet curse, "Damn it, I should have hidden the guns better, shouldn't I?"

Jazz laughs softly, but it's a warm, affectionate laugh, "Well, yes, but you also shouldn't leave bloody bandages in the bathroom. And your helmet on the kitchen counter," she tells him, amusement lacing her voice, and Jason rubs his face with his free hand.

"Fuck," he mutters. And then, "Sorry."

Jazz waves her hand it the air, brushing his apology off, "Don't worry. I'm not in a place to blame you for having secrets, am I?" She muses, and, okay, fair. But before Jason can try to make her elaborate on the topic, she returns to her previous question, "So is it for a friend?"

The knife, right. Jason makes an annoyed face, scrunching his nose.

"Yeah. Bruce owes someone a favor, but he couldn't make it. Other stuff came up," he huffs. 'Other stuff' in question includes some off-world mission, so he really couldn't make it, but that doesn't make Jason any less mad about it.

"Let me guess, that 'someone' smells of cigarettes and liquor, has a British accent, and wears a trench coat," Jazz deadpans, and Jason stares at her with wide eyes.

"How- Are you sure you're not secretly a mind reader?" He asks. He knows for sure that Jazz doesn't have a meta-gene, but maybe she is a magic user? That would explain why and how she is even at the auction. Yet, the redhead laughs.

"No, sorry. Just met him a few times," she winces like she can smell the phantom smell of tobacco even when the mage is not here, "Can't say I like him, but asking someone to fetch him a Tecpatl seems like his style."

That only makes Jason even more inclined to believe his girlfriend is actually a magic user. But he doesn't get to ask because Jazz suddenly looks him in the face.

"Consider yourself in luck, by the way," she grins, "You won't have to steal it."

[part 2 ->]

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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[the-medieval-husbands]

It just keeps happening.....

Merlin doesn't know if he wants to stop it, or if he should? And the worst part is Arthur doesn't even notice he's kissed him.

First time:

After dinner, Merlin cleared the plates, then returned to ready the royal clotpole for bed. After making sure he was dressed in his sleep shirt, Arthur simply leaned down and gave him the lightest kiss, turned and started getting into bed, saying goodnight. He could see the moment it clicked in Arthurs head, yet he just kept going. Merlin excused himself and the next morning nobody mentioned it.

Second time:

Before his tournament match against sir chamberlain, Merlin was putting on his armor.

"Please Arthur. You need to listen. Be quick. Don't underestimate him. I watched him train." Merlin pleaded.

Arthur leaned in and cut off any further words with a kiss. "I'll be fine love. Now hand me my sword."

In a daze Merlin retrieves the sword and hands it off, turning back to Around seeing on his face that he again knows what he's done. They need to talk about this but not now. Not before he goes out there. So Arthur nods once, and walks out of the tent.

3rd time :

Duke Bohun would not leave him alone. Everywhere Merlin looked, there he was. Honestly it wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so handsy. The amount of times that Merlin has had to subtly remove himself from groping range is getting out of hand. He's just glad Arthur hadn't seen...... Or well, was glad.

The Duke was seated next to Arthur at the farewell banquet, which meant that while Merlin was ensuring that Arthurs cup was always full, Lord Bohun would have plenty of grab time.

Maybe if he approached from the other side?

As the night wore on, and the wine seated in their stomachs and minds, it also loosened their lips.

"That is a lovely man servant you have there. I don't suppose you'd lend him to me for a night? I promise I'd return him just as I received him." Duke Bohun slurred while leering in his direction.

"Lord Bohun, I don't know how things are done elsewhere. But here in Camelot our servants are people, not objects. We do not give them away, nor lend them for a night." Arthur could feel himself getting more and more angry with every word.

Before the situation could escalate further Merlin out a gentle hand on Arthur shoulder.

Taking that as a sign, Arthur took a deep breath. " If you'll excuse me, I think it's best that I retire for the night." he turns to his man servant "Merlin"

"Coming sire"

No sooner are they in the hall does Arthur have Merlin against a wall and locked in one of the most passionate moments he's ever experienced. Arthur is holding Merlin like he might lose him.

Slowly they part. Merlin strokes the back of Arthurs head gently. As soon as their breathing returns to normal, Arthurs entire body tenses in realization.

Merlin, instead of getting mad gently lifts his head to look at him. They stare intently. He can see how scared Arthur is.

Merlin leans forward, and for the first time, he kisses him.

"It's okay." he gently tugs on the hair on the back of his head. Not hard. Just enough to show that he's in the moment with him.

Arthur smiles.

[starboye]

starring: simon "ghost" riley x male reader

request: ghost with a femboy reader <33 can be both nsfw or sfw which ever one you r comfortable with!!! :33

warnings: some smut, mentions of male pregnancy + breeding, sexual mentions, femboy!reader, mentions of drinking

SFW-

simon was shocked to say the least when he first layed eyes on you at a farmers market, seeing you dressed in a cute pink skirt as a full face of makeup as you shopped for fruits and veggies.

approaching you slowly to really get a good look at you and confirm if he was seeing things or not (this is the first ever time he's seen a guy dressed like you) and with further investigating following you around the store he realized you were in fact a guy.

he waited patiently till you dropped something to swoop in and helping you pick up your dropped items, using the situation as an opportunity to spike up a conversation on the kinds of apples you were getting and somehow leading to you giving him your number.

he was nervous to actually call you but with some help from the team after showing the a picture of you (that of which you still don't know how he snapped the picture) they were urging him to not let the "fine gentleman go to waste" in the words of captain price and ghost nervously called you.

he was definitely surprised when you answered his call, he had asked you on a date and you somewhat eagerly accepted the mans request, simon silently cheering when he hung up the phone.

and oh. my. god. when he saw you enter the restaurant in the most beautiful suit and all dazzled with your little accessories with the most fine make up he's ever seen he was adjusting his pants the whole night and always excusing himself to the bathroom.

once the date was over he was itching to see you again, not being able to get you off his mind during mission debriefs or even the mission itself, only thinking of your handsome face the whole time.

once you guys finally scheduled your second date he was happy as a clam at high water, smiling the whole way to the park where you planned to meet just for him to get there to see you in a pretty slutty skirt and a crop top, it's like you wanted the man to keel over and die right there.

but he managed to hold himself together the whole date (although he can't deny that he didn't sneak a few peaks at your ass when you'd bend over to smell the flowers and feed the ducks at the lake and also during that date you both finally agreed to now be dating one another.

NSFW-

when he finally got you in his bed it was one night when you were a little drunk after a night out with the team and you were all but throwing yourself at the man, basically begging the man to fuck you with how you caressed his thigh under the table and hiked up your skirt when you 'drop' something on accident.

but simon wasn't complaining when he had been imagining fucking you forever now but the only thing that held his dick at night when he was hard was his own fist and the though of your mouth.

he had made you a moaning, babbling, and incoherent mess by the end of the night after fucking load after load out of you and plowing load after load into your tight hole.

with how good you looked and the way you dressed he had been imagining putting you in all sorts of positions to take his cock and when he finally got the chance he didn't disappoint, putting you in sorts of positions like mating press, missionary, and full nelson, thoroughly impressed by how well you took him in every position.

during it all simon had to keep reminding himself that you can't get pregnant and walk around base all swell with his kids in your tummy but he'd be damned if he didn't try to at least give you a stomach full of his cum.

next day you woke up sore, aching, and barely remembering where you were but with the sight of simon tightly holding you in his arms with that cute but smug smile on his face you nuzzled back into him, maybe even rolling your leaking ass on his crotch just to start a little something.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

[rumisgf]

BAKUGOU BOYFRIEND HCS

summary: i’m getting katsuki brainrot again so here’s some boyfriend headcanons for the soul.

warnings: black!reader ofc, college!au, cursing, mentions of injury, suggestive if you squint, crack, feminine terms used

✧ first off, it was not easy to get to the point of dating. just because he’s so hyper focused on being a hero he definitely had to learn how to let somebody in his life, so y’all probably were in that talking stage for a hot minute before he finally asked you to be his 😭

✧ as a boyfriend though, bakugou’s very protective of you

✧ he always walk on the side closest to the street on the sidewalk, usually has a hand on the small of your back or on your hip, and insists he holds your hand while you cross the street

✧ never walk behind him. ever.

✧ it ends in him scolding you while grabbing you and shoving you in front or next to him

✧ he’s practically your bodyguard at this point, no one tries to approach you with bad intent when he’s with you

✧ when he’s not with you though, he still puts in an effort to make sure you’re good. he’s definitely a ‘call me when you get there’ and ‘call me when you get home’ type of boyfriend

✧ it’s known bakugou is very self disciplined. he goes to bed at 8:30, probably has a very good diet, and is keen on his hygiene. so naturally, he makes sure you do the same

✧ he makes sure you’re drinking enough water and if you’re hungry he’d much rather cook for you than order you something (also because cooking is his love language)

✧ and if your sleep schedule is messed up bakugou finds out….oh boy

✧ he’ll literally lift you up and carry you to bed when it gets around his own bedtime

“katsuki put me the fuck down!”

“it’s bed time, stop being a brat.”

✧ all in all, he actually enjoys taking care of you no matter how much he calls you a brat

✧ which, him calling you a brat is ironic, because bakugou acts like a bad ass little kid

✧ he’ll randomly cuss somebody out if they talk too much, he hates ties, he’ll do stupid dares denki tells him to do just to prove he can do it, and his every day mission is to get on your nerves

✧ he loves play fighting but he will not go easy on you

✧ your friends cannot take y’all in public without y’all randomly trying to tussle

✧ and of course he’s katsuki bakugou, so he likes to argue

✧ usually it doesn’t get too serious, it’s always over something so dumb he really just likes getting you mad because he thinks it’s cute

✧ but something bakugou also would never admit is he likes when you’re touchy or needy

✧ it makes him feel wanted

✧ he also constantly craves your comfort

✧ he does little things like coming straight to your dorm after a workout and laying directly on top of you while you’re laying down despite how sweaty he is

✧ leaning his head on your shoulder while you’re doing something so you can play with his hair

✧ acting grumpy when he wants your attention so you can eventually give in to him and give him forehead kisses

✧ he’s a big baby (but you love it)

✧ bakugou loves taking candid pictures of you. not only because he thinks you look so pretty but he heavily enjoys hearing you whine after you snap up and see his phone camera pointing at you

✧ despite what was stated earlier, he does like taking you to restaurants

✧ it’s an excuse for you to get all dressed up and for him to admire you

✧ as you can tell, he likes to give you princess treatment even though if anybody brings it up he’ll deny it profusely as his palms threaten to spark up explosions

✧ kirishima tried to tease him about it, that man barely made it out alive.

✧ bakugou pays for your nails, your lashes, your hair– anything you wanna get done he instantly is sending you money

✧ he goes all out of birthdays, brings you snacks for your classes, opens every door and pulls out every chair for you,

✧ and one time when all of bakusquad went out to eat, mina caught him cutting your food for you

“here give me that, ‘not even doin’ it right.”

“dude i got i-”

“hush, lemme see!”

“i said-”

✧ and he just started cutting your steak.

✧ speaking of, he’s very stubborn and has a particular way of doing things

✧ one time he tied your shoes for you because ‘you’re doing it the wrong way’

✧ mitsuki taught him the bunny ear method and he sticks to it to this day

✧ and he has his own weird way of loving you

✧ ‘stop being stupid’ always translates to ‘please be careful, i care about you’

✧ don’t get him wrong though, he loves bullying for you fun

✧ you cannot eat in peace around this man.

✧ ‘woah there little lady, you sure know how to put it away!’

✧ ‘damn, is it good???’

✧ you have to fight urges to smack him in the face on a daily basis

“…….eat! eat! ea-”

“SHUT THE FUCK-”

✧ whenever you accidentally scratch or cut yourself on something he scolds the hell out of you but is also the first one running to you

✧ it’s always him mumbling about how you need to be more careful while putting a bandage on your wound and gently kissing it after

✧ he drives you everywhere. you’ll never need an uber again dating this man

✧ you’re one of the only people who can genuinely make him laugh

✧ his friends got so shocked at first when you made a joke and he was crying laughing

✧ bakugou isn’t very fond of using social media, but when he does it’s mostly for you

✧ he’s one of the first to put you new posts on his story, and he always leave about three hearts under your comments

✧ maybe even a “so beautiful” or “my pretty girl” if he’s feeling giddy that day

✧ lastly, bakugou does not play about you.

✧ he will crash out about you any day he needs to and your wellbeing is his first priority

✧ he’s definitely gotten into fights over you and no matter how many times you tell him to chill, he doesn’t tolerate anybody who tries to disrespect you

✧ and anytime anybody even tries to hurt you, he nearly commits first degree murder

✧ he won’t say it out loud to other people but you’re truly his baby, and he cherishes you so much

✧ he never viewed himself as boyfriend material but for you, he really does try his hardest and it’s very apparent

@ rumisgf

[gay-dorito-dust]

i dont know if your asks/requests are open so please feel free to ignore this (also if it makes you uncomfortable) but could you do batboys seeing you after a big event taking all the stuff off, like getting unready ig

my bf saw me peeling off my boob tape and heard me scream then said that im never allowed to wear that dress again 😭😭

Not the boob tape 💀sorry for taking so long and Dick and Jason were the only ones my little overworked brain could think of for this one. 🐿️🦦

Dick

‘Would you like some help with that?’ He’d ask cheekily from behind you.

‘You just want an excuse to see me naked, perv.’ You replied, pushing him away by the face with a smile.

‘Twas only a suggestion my love.’ Dick laughed as he raised his hands in defence.

‘Yeah a suggestion of which would allow you to see me naked.’ You reiterated as you sat yourself on the edge of the bed to take off your shoes that had been killing your feet the entire night.

Dick pouted. ‘Is that all you see me, your sweet beloved partner, as an undignified pervert with no sense of control over my urges?’ He inquired as he crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Would you like an honest answer to that?’ You asked rhetorically.

‘Would you at least let me message your feet at least?’ Dick pleaded, ‘they must’ve been killing you sweetheart and I know how much you love my full body massages.’ He adds with a little wink, causing you to throw a pillow at him for that suggestive remark before going back to massaging your foot, only to be unable to reach the spots that were killing you the most.

Annoyed, tired and fed up, you then presented Dick with your foot and watched as his face practically light up. ‘Go on then since you’re so eager to please.’

Dick smirked. ‘Don’t I always?’

You pointed warningly at him. ‘Keep this up and I’m going to revoke some of your privileges.’

Dick only smiled as he knelt before you, kissing your exposed knee as his hands trailed up and down your leg before holding your foot. ‘I’m sure after this you’ll retract that statement.’ He confidently tells you and you scoff. ‘Oh yeah? I highly doubt-fuck that’s the spot.’ You groaned as Dick began to massage you foot, finding the source of your discomfort almost immediately.

‘Take back your statement yet my sweet?’ Dick asked teasingly as he peppered your leg with kisses as his chants worked their magic on your foot, easing the aches, the pains and whatever else they could find with ease.

‘Shut up and manage my feet Boy Wonder.’ You replied, pushing a hand through his hair, tugging at it playfully as you allowed yourself to fall backwards and into the bed bellow, unaware of Dick’s staring.

Even as you lied there half undressed you looked like heaven incarnate to him. Tonight had been a big one for the both of you but Dick thought you did wonderful and looked stunning at the same time, however he loved the you he got to see when it was just the two of you, it was a moment where he realised how lucky he was to get to see you like this and he would do anything to keep having as long as you’d stay with him; something he hoped would be the case for a long, long time.

Jason stands in the doorway and watches you get undressed with a fondness in his eyes.

He loves watching you undress already but seeing you undress after a big event that he was forced to attend was something else entirely.

He couldn’t put his finger on it but watching you undress after a long day had become Jason’s favourite thing to do, it tickled a part of him that grew up wanting to watch his partner get ready for the day ahead just as much as watching them get undressed and ready for bed.

He loved getting to see you undress as he got to admire what others couldn’t and he couldn’t help but feel prideful and happy about that. He, Jason Todd, got to see you in a way that others could never begin to understand.

You saw him watching you in the reflective surface of the mirror and couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft look upon his face as butterflies fluttered within your stomach. ‘Can I help you there handsome?’ You asked.

‘Sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful and gorgeous.’ Jason says with a dopey smile stretching across his face.

‘Jay, I’m half naked.’ You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze, it wasn’t your fault that you managed to have quite possibly the most sweetest, most beautiful man in Gotham calling you all theses sweet things as though it was as easy as breathing.

Jason shrugs. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, half naked or not.’

You didn’t know it was possible to smile harder than you did at that moment, but you somehow managed to as you could almost feel your face split in half from your own smile. ‘That’s high praise coming from the most handsome, most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.’ You replied, looking back at him in time to see him take a deep breath as he walked over to you, hovering his hands over your bare shoulders before you felt the warmth of his palms warm up your shoulders.

‘Well that’s high praise coming from you chipmunk.’ Jason murmured as he kisses your cheek, resting his head atop of one of his hands on your shoulder, looking at your reflection with so much love and affection thst you swore you could’ve melted to a puddle in an instant. ‘Now how about you let me help you out of this thing and we can dress comfortably and head to bed for some cuddles, how does that sound.’ Jason adds and you couldn’t help but lean into him, tiredness making its home within your bones.

‘That sounds like heaven to me.’ You told him, kissing his cheek.

[utterlyotterlyx]

In Another Life

Azriel x F!Reader

Summary - Once upon a time, a certain Shadowsinger found his mate in the right person but the worst time.

Warnings - a pure fluff fest, a little bit of angst, fated mates, descriptions of loss and grief, mentions of death

Note - This is my first fic back after a bit of a hiatus so be nice please haha, I'm getting back into the groove x

"Avoir elle est avoir les etoiles."

Azriel's shadows and ears alike perked upward at the familiar yet foreign tongue that had drifted through the room, finding him where he stood in a far corner, away from anyone who may be wanting to keep an eye on him.

Balls had never been something he was keen on, always attempting to find an excuse to be elsewhere whether it be a mission or some pitiful plead to stay home.

But his ire didn't quite meet him in the instances where he knew that his mate would be present. His perfect, beautiful, untamed mate.

To have her is to have the stars.

Eris' wickedly devious drawl played in his mind. The newly appointed High Lord of Autumn had always had an affinity for you despite you only finding your feet upon Prythian once a year. Eris didn't seem to care that you had a mate, albeit, a mutually yet unofficially rejected one, and seemed to believe that he would be able to turn your head quite easily.

The Nether was the place you had called home after the rejection of something you had begged the mother for your entire life. Azriel wasn't sure how it had happened, not only how you had become a stranger to him so quickly, but how exactly you had ripped open the fabric of time and space with anguish once your brother had died in your arms; creating another world that lived only thanks to your lifeforce, a place where those you had lost remained, a place you had followed them to.

Each year, you would store enough energy away to keep that pocket world safe for a few hours just so that you could return to the surface.

Azriel counted down the days until he would be able to lay his eyes on you again. Prythian was also used to holding a collective breath, feeling the power of you coil around them, turning the air electric just as it would go before a thunderstorm ravaged the skies.

Then you were there.

As ethereal as always, dressed in the finest of silks that coursed from your breasts to your feet, the fabric washing over each curve on the way down. Sleeves fell lax from your shoulders, and you hair was as it always had been, loosely curled and flowing down your spine.

It was Amren who had gone to you first, she always had; the two of you had been close friends when you had called Prythian your home. With a genteel grin, you swept the firedrake into your arms, your soft giggles becoming the sonnet to Azriel's dreams as he watched your lips tilt upward and body relax as you welcomed more into your embrace.

Accepting the bond hadn't been an option once Fin had passed, you had ripped open that world so fast and knew that Fin, and whoever else now lay in there, wouldn't survive another lifetime without you. Azriel had understood. He had walked you to that rippling portal edge and left you there with his kiss indented into the back of your hand, with perhaps a small promise that one day you'd both have what you truly wanted.

Before that, Azriel had doted on you whole-heartedly. Thanks to Mor and Amren he knew all the things that you deeply and secretly adored, most of them he already knew from making it his mission to know you from the inside out, but he appreciated the tips nonetheless. Azriel courted you like a true gentleman, holding doors open and bringing you so many bunches of flowers that you had run out of vases to put them in, which only meant that he had to go and buy you more.

Azriel knew that you had a guilty pleasure for red velvet cake, so he made sure that every week he would collect two small cupcakes to sit at the Sidra edge to eat with you. Books held a special place in your heart, so he ensured that he would fine every new published book before you could and add it to your impressive collection. He knew the exact place that you liked to be kissed, at the corner of your mouth between your lips and dimple; and where you liked to be touched, that being on your elbow or the small of your back.

He didn't like to admit it, and he never did easily, but the day you left him had been the worst day of his life. A period had gone by where he refused to leave his room because he sheets still held your scent, of morning mountain rain and fresh springs; he also refused to eat for awhile, not being able to stomach it thanks to the bond coiling in terror inside of his soul.

Life without you was dim, but he kept it together each year for you, just so that you didn't worry, just so that you never felt bad for choosing to spend whatever time you could with the brother you loved so much.

From what he knew, The Nether was a dark and cold place, born from the despair inside of you from the moment you had lost Fin. The world you had created represented your anger and sadness. You had told him one year that it rained a lot, and that the palace where you lived was broken in so many ways, just like you. Azriel could tell that it was a dreary place because you seemed to get more pale each time he saw you.

He had always believed that you were brought into the world to make the sun cry with jealousy, and he had told you as such one more than one occasion.

Once you had done the round with your once shared family, letting go of Rhys and Feyre with a small pinch on the formers cheek, your eyes found him in his usual corner, like they knew exactly where to drift to next, and his soul set alight by the glimmer of adoration he found laced within them.

It only took you a moment to excuse yourself from Rhys and cross the amber lit ballroom to stand before him, peering upward through those lusciously thick lashes that he used to run his fingers over. After a longing sweep over his face, you smiled, "Hello, Az."

Mother above.

Even your voice was enough to make his knees tremble, so siren-like, it was as warm as embers and as sweet as honey, but sultry in ways that Azriel had never seen in anyone else.

"Hello Poet," he smirked at your rolling eyes and the slight huff that fell from your lips. You had always hated the little nickname, but didn't mind it so much when it came from him.

One of the things he was most thankful for was the way nothing ever changed between you; you both knew how much you loved one another, and how long you'd both happily wait until the time was right.

The way the lights of the Autumn Court ballroom caressed your skin was mesmerising, it made you almost glow in the cream dress that you adorned, a simple gown that had Azriel turning into a rabid beast inside. "How is Fin?"

The smile on your mouth faltered, and your brows twitched, and look so vacant came over your eyes that Azriel's heart almost stopped at the sight of it. Shaking it off, you forced a smile, one too big to be real, and told him, "He's doing well. He's been making me insane with the damned piano in the foyer."

Much like how The Nether matched your melancholy, there were sentimental items within it that you had pulled from Prythian. The piano was one of them. It was the item that made Azriel realise that you were mates, when he heard you playing a blissfully calm melody accompanied by your infamous voice, singing a sonnet of love and loss, of hope and dreams. The song was about him, you had later admitted, and that did was make him love you more.

Though, the flicker of sadness in your eyes did little to convince Azriel that things were alright, and he sent a mental message to Rhys of it, of the forced smiles and glazed orbs, and of how you kept on fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you only did when you were hiding something.

It didn't take a literal spymaster that long to figure out your tells.

Azriel played along, "Surely he isn't that bad?"

With a supple shrug, you answered, "He quite good at it actually. It just reminds me of different times."

Of times when our lives were entwined.

"I dreamt of you the other night," you told him nervously, glancing around and sending warm yet curt smiles to anyone that passed, just hoping to get a glimpse of that holy face. "It felt so real. You were sat at the piano beneath the open roof. The rain had stopped for a moment but the stone was still wet and puddled in places, but you were playing such a beautiful song, and all I could was stand at the doorway and watch you. I didn't want it to end, and part of me thought for a moment that it was real. That something was real."

"Y/N," Azriel frowned, fingers brushing against the cool of your wrist, "What's happened?"

Consciously realising where you stood, you took Azriel's hand in your own, and pulled him from the room into one of the many hallways that descended from it. You pulled him all the way to the other side of the castle, only stopped at a large window that looked out onto the warmly lit gardens that you had walked in often once upon a time.

Turning to your mate, you couldn't help but allow your mask to fall, "Fin is gone," you admitted, holding onto yourself to keep yourself together.

Azriel took a step forward, raking his hair back and lifting your chin from the ground to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?"

In the moonlight was when Azriel looked his best, with that pallid cascade falling over his face, illuminating the sharpness of his eyes and jaw, and the hollows of his cheekbones. He always dressed to impress you, always opting for his usual black attire, but he knew how much you loved the open collar, just delicious enough to show off the contours of his chest.

"It was good for a long time, we were happy," you spoke softly, allowing Azriel to take your arms in his hands, "But he started to get sad, he started to feel like he didn't belong there. He said it was too cold."

"I never meant him to feel like that, I swear. I was so desperate to not lose him that I didn't realise that his soul might not harmonise with the darkness I had created," Azriel brushed his fingers over your cheek, tucking back a loose strand of hair behind your pointed ear, waiting patiently for you to carry on. "I let him go. I let him go to find another world that has everything I couldn't give him. He left me a little while ago, and I suppose that I needed some time to come to terms with it."

Azriel felt his throat tighten, he knew how much you loved Fin, how you would have done anything to make him happy. You loved that boy so much that you ripped time and space apart so that you could be together.

"Y/N- I'm so sorry," he gathered you into his arms, rubbing his fingers in circles atop the small of your back whilst your tears dampened the silk of his shirt.

"He's gone."

The pain in your voice made his essence rage with agony. Azriel nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you so deeply that it may stain his lungs for eternity. He pulled back, still keeping a firm grip on you as he pressed his forehead to yours, allowing his breath to fan over you skin in the hope that it would centre you slightly.

"I know you feel like you're alone, Poet. I promise you that you're not. Fin was an amazing boy, and I know that he loved you in ways that you may never understand. Do you know how happy he was when he found out that we were destined to be together?" Azriel asked, accepting your stifled nod as a sign to continue, "He was overjoyed by it, all he ever wanted was for you to be happy. And, I think that on some level, he knew that The Nether wasn't right for either of you. Fin didn't want to hold you back, and I think he loved you so much that letting you go was the only way to ensure it. He knew you never would have left him, not voluntarily."

"I feel so lost," you all but whispered into the air, sniffling and using your pale sleeve to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.

Azriel took your face in his hands, one that he had held in the same way more times than he could count, "Then let me guide you home, Poet. Let me help you. You are the sun, y/n, you deserve to shine once more."

If you didn't already love Azriel so deeply, then you could have sworn that you had fallen in love again in that moment. Part of you believed that you didn't deserve him, not after you had chosen to leave him, not after you had reduced your bond to a single visit a year. But Azriel had waited for you his entire life, and he would continue to wait for the rest of his days, be it old and senile or rugged and beautiful, your Azriel would always wait.

Without wanting to miss another moment, you rose on the tips of your toes to connect your lips to his in what could only be described as a life-altering kiss. The bond that had been cold for so long burst to life, shrouding you both in tendrils of gold that weaved through your hair and launched your collective shadows onto the grass below the windows.

His lips were soft, and his hands gripped onto your face before finding your hips, and Azriel knew that if he died from lack of oxygen that he could happily walk into hell knowing that he had held heaven in his hands.

Once you had both pulled back, panting and glowing golden with your fists furled into the silk of his shirt, you managed to smile and brush your nose against his. "Home," you uttered gently, stroking the back of his neck, "Sounds like a lovely idea."

Author's Note

First fic back, eek!

I'm so sorry if you don't like this - it's been so long since I've posted and I'm just trying really hard to get back into my writing style x

If you love it then yay! And if you want more then as always, let me know!

[ridher]

testing bsf!rafe's patience when he takes you on a beach trip

you both needed to get out of the house.. his house. like any normal friendship, the two of you would often be just hanging around at tanneyhill, the presence of one another enough to occupy yourselves for the day.

house-bound and restless, your energy was slowly pushing rafe's limits which is why he suggested or demanded going to the beach — not his pool you'd been constantly in and out of for the past hours, the beach.

his treat. it feels especially as such when you climb into the passenger side of his lifted truck in a little white sundress, cut off mid-thigh and worn over a baby blue bikini.

the sweet expression on your face when you look over at him seals the deal and just like that he's changing gears to pull out of the driveway, distracting himself from the view beside him.

so eager to get out and do something, you practically jump out of the vehicle the second rafe puts it in park on the sand, taillights facing the water. your dress is quickly forgotten in the backseat as you run across the beach to the water.

it's relatively empty for a warm summer day in the outer banks, salt air carried by a breeze from the ocean sticking to your body as the sound of crashing waves echoes in your eardrums.

rafe takes his time, mostly because he's stuck staring at the sight of you embracing the water that crashes upon the shore, already ankles deep.

after shedding his shirt and shoes — exposing his chiseled chest thanks to his low-hung swim trunks — he walks down the increasingly damp sand to approach you from behind. he's met with a squeal when his warm hands find the bare skin above where your bikini bottoms lay.

you push him off with a laugh and turn to face the boy with a mischievous smile. he reads the look easily. ready to test it, he reaches out again with an amused smile to which you quickly step back and avoid.

a small tsk and the cock of his head lets you know he's not messing around anymore — in his mind, he has to win. not ready to give him the satisfaction, you turn to run further into the ocean, the motion slowed by powerful waves sent in the opposing direction.

rafe is quick and follows after you. the built muscles of his legs are stronger and therefore he easily wraps his arms around you and hoists your body up into his arms, bringing your feet off the ocean floor.

"rafe!" you exclaim through a giggle, fruitlessly wriggling in his arms in an attempt to free yourself.

he's thoroughly amused by the sight, having you all to himself and unable to escape. his hands wander at the excuse of play fighting and you feel the warmth travel across your torso.

"surrender." it's a command and you both know it. you and rafe alike could also have guessed the next words out of your mouth.

"i surrender! i surrender, rafe." you're breathless at this point from thrashing around in your best friend's hold, the small amount of fabric covering your body askew, and the pair of you equally wet at this point.

satisfied, rafe drops you lightly to your feet by loosening his grip just enough for your body to slide through. the sand below softens the landing.

using the last bit of touch he still has on your body, he spins you around with a firm hand on your hip with a smirk of what could be mistaken as smugness, but you see as admiration.

your head tilts back to look up at him with big eyes and a sweet smile, a sight he'd never admit makes up for the strain your hyperactivity puts on his patience.

it's almost sunset when rafe holds you again, this time without a fight as he carries you across the beach with his hands on your thighs — cooperatively wrapping around his waist. your arms hang loosely around his neck and eyes flutter with every step he takes, damp bodies chest to chest.

you'll end up tucked back into a bed at the cameron's and he'll have to come up with something else to keep you entertained the next day. not that he minds, you're his best friend, after all.