#and there's this mirror in there that faces directly toward the door

[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 4.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma used to hate the damned sound of the rooster alarm, which constantly reminded him (to his frequent irritation) that he was alive, had to go to work, and continue with the same boring routine. Again.

But this time, he woke up before it went off, feeling strangely optimistic. He realised he wasn’t angry with the world. In fact, he was grateful, as everything that had happened... had led him to the moment he finally met you.

Realising this, he gave a faint smile, though he was still quite drowsy, with the sheets tangled around his legs and his hair even messier than usual.

With the feeling that the pillow’s imprint was still visible on one side of his face, Hiromi decided it was time to get up. With an exaggerated yawn, he headed towards the windows to check the weather outside.

"Today’s going to be a great day," he kept repeating in his mind, hoping it would be. His optimism was based on the belief that he’d see you again, even if only for a few minutes.

Put simply, Hiromi wanted to know if you’d survived the night. Or if you were still alive. Or if you weren’t merely a hallucination brought on by exhaustion or lack of sleep, or his own self-imposed work burnout (which was very likely, knowing him).

More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were alright.

The simple act of checking that you were still whole, alive, or pretending to be okay would be enough to calm his rising anxiety.

He grabbed the curtains and, with an anticipation and joy that felt fake and foreign, drew them open. “Ah—damn it!” he cursed under his breath, covering his eyes.

He knew he was being paranoid, but it felt as if the spirits in his flat were laughing at his foolishness. Because, upon pulling back the curtains, the sun hit him directly in the eyes, leaving him momentarily blinded.

After his small mishap—or supreme moment of idiocy—he got ready. He headed to the bathroom, washed his face and teeth, and attempted to tame his hair with a comb and a bit of gel, only to curse two seconds later because it didn’t turn out how he wanted, and a few stubborn strands refused to lie flat. Slowly, he put on his suit, shoes, and adjusted his tie.

That was one thing he found incredibly annoying: his tie. Despite several people showing him how to tie it, how to make that damned knot, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. And he found himself staring at himself in the mirror, with the suicidal urge to hit his forehead against it in one go, shatter it, and then head off to work.

Minutes later, he found himself walking through the station. He’d already paid his fare, and he was nervous. Very, very nervous. His heart was about to burst from his chest, or break his ribs, or explode. Any unpleasant, intense, disgusting thing that could happen at that moment, he imagined it in full detail.

He felt tense, his shoulders stiff, and his knuckles white from gripping his briefcase so tightly.

In the distance, he heard the train approaching at full speed. He swallowed hard and felt himself starting to sweat with anticipation—he knew it.

“Maybe I’ll faint,” he thought, and felt an urge to burst into laughter at how stupid he’d look if it happened. “Maybe I could just throw myself onto the tracks and…”

The train doors opened before him, and he walked inside, feeling himself tremble. The elderly lady beside him, with wrinkled skin and white hair, gave him a curious and slightly worried look but said nothing.

There were so many people, he had to hold onto the railings attached to the ceiling to stay standing. He swallowed hard again, already hearing his own heartbeat in his ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

His vision was beginning to blur until...

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir. Truly. I’m very sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to bump into you or, even less, step on you, I just…” the woman’s voice stumbled over her words, sounding both startled and embarrassed.

That voice…

Hiromi recognised it instantly, and he’d only heard it once in his life.

“But once was enough,” he thought. Yes, once was enough to recognise it anywhere.

In any life.

He turned and looked at the woman. At you. He sighed, relieved, and nearly smiled. Gently, he took hold of your arm to steady you at his side.

You were alive.

She looked at him for a split second and recognised him. How could she not? He was the man who, the previous morning, had helped her find the station to get to the library.

She knew she’d recognise him anywhere.

And because of this, a rosy blush coloured her cheeks as she stood beside Hiromi, attempting to hold onto the same ceiling rail, her hand mere inches from his.

“Don’t worry, there’s no need to apologise,” he reassured her in a kind, soft, almost tender voice. He was happy to see her again, even if just for a few minutes. “Hold on tight; the train’s quite crowded today…”

Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma used to hate the damned sound of the rooster alarm, which constantly reminded him (to his frequent irritation) that he was alive, had to go to work, and continue with the same boring routine. Again.

But this time, he woke up before it went off, feeling strangely optimistic. He realised he wasn’t angry with the world. In fact, he was grateful, as everything that had happened... had led him to the moment he finally met you.

[starpros-sunshine]

I have found myself in yet another dilemma

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Fem!Reader ☼ 946 words

The way I'm thinking I need to have a universe for these two

“He’s precious! He looks just like his daddy.” Miriam gushes, leaning in closer to Henry. James cringes as his baby boy flinches away, burying his head into his father’s chest and eyeing the woman with uncertainty. Henry's tiny hands clutch James’s shirt, seeking comfort and protection from the unfamiliar face.

James knows Miriam from school, but they have never been close. She has always been the life of the party, a role he once embraced during their Hogwarts days. Now, her enthusiasm feels overwhelming, especially to his shy and sensitive son. Perhaps he has mellowed more than he realizes since then—having a child at 20 would surely do that to you.

Miriam straightens up, placing a manicured hand on his bicep. With a slight pout to her lips, she says softly, “I heard about what happened to you and his mum. It must have been devastating.”

James tenses, his gaze shifting nervously to the store entrance, where he hopes Sirius, Remus, and you will hurry with their shopping and rescue him from this unwelcome conversation. The thought of discussing his ex, who left him and their son behind because she wasn't ready for motherhood, fills him with a mix of frustration and anger. The memory of her sudden departure still stings, and he isn’t eager to relive those painful moments, especially with someone he barely knows.

“Yeah, it’s been tough, but we’re doing just fine without her,” James replies, his tone steady but strained. He takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to gently suggest that Miriam give them some space. “Anyway, Miriam—”

“That’s so unfortunate that he doesn’t have a mum in his life,” Miriam continues, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously at him. James immediately grasps where she is going with this. It’s not the first time his role as a father has attracted unwanted advances, but her bold approach leaves him momentarily stunned. If she had asked him out directly, it might have been different—though he doubts it would have made much of a difference.

“Miriam! Still hitting on unavailable men?” Sirius’s voice rings out with a teasing edge. James turns to see Sirius and Remus emerging from the store. Remus is scanning the receipt but looks up, startled at Sirius’s voice. You must still be browsing in the store.

“Unavailable?” Miriam repeats, her eyebrows raising in surprise. James can’t help but question the same thing, the word echoing in his mind.

“Very much so,” Sirius says with a firm nod as he and Remus come to stand beside James. Remus shoots Miriam a polite hello, but his expression reflects his lingering dislike for her from their school days.

“I didn’t know you were with someone,” Miriam mumbles, and James thinks about clarifying that he didn’t know it either.

The bell above the shop door chimes, announcing someone’s departure. James’s reaction to your voice is immediate and revealing; his eyes brighten, and his posture straightens as he turns to you. It’s clear from his response that he is deeply enamored with you.

And it isn’t just James. His son mirrors his father’s excitement. The little boy’s eyes light up with the same warmth, and he reaches out eagerly toward you. Henry babbles what sounds remarkably like “mama,” his tiny arms outstretched in an unmistakable plea for you to hold him. James hopes you don’t catch what his son is trying to say.

Your sweet voice rings out, “Jamie, I know you said not to spoil him, but they had the most adorable knit sweater—” You trail off, blinking in surprise as you notice Miriam’s disapproving gaze, her brow furrowed in irritation. You come to a stop next to James, missing the way his son is staring you down.

“You bought him another sweater?” Remus asks, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. You shoot him a halfhearted glare, silently reminding him that he shouldn’t be commenting on it.

“Hi, Miriam. How have you been?” You greet her with a warm smile, though a hint of unease tugs at you. Miriam’s gaze feels unusually intense, leaving you slightly unsettled. You recall that you both got on well in school, so you’re unsure what might have shifted between you.

“Good. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you all, Jamie and I were just talking about—” Miriam trails off, her gaze fixed on James as he smoothly takes the shopping bag from you, allowing you to take Henry. Had you been fully listening, you would’ve frowned at the use of your nickname for James.

The transition is so effortless that it’s clear it’s well-practiced. You settle Henry comfortably on your hip, deftly rummaging through your purse until you find a pacifier. You gently pop it into his mouth, and Henry’s head droops onto your shoulder as he begins to suck contentedly, letting out a sigh that suggests he’s found his perfect spot.

James’s gaze is lovesick as he watches you. His heart catches in his throat as he sees you effortlessly produce a pacifier for his son. He’s well aware that your purse likely holds other baby essentials, even if you’d deny it. As he observes you, his thoughts drift, overwhelmed by the profound realization that Henry has a mum in his life— you.

You’re so focused on settling Henry that you don’t even notice Miriam’s silence, and James, so absorbed in you, is barely aware of her presence. You smile up at him while gently rocking his son, and James thinks, This is it. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.

Miriam turns to Sirius with a lowered voice, “I thought they were just friends. They were in school.”

“They were never just friends. Y/n has always been James’s weakness. Now she’s his son’s too.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

Dad!James and Bsf!Reader Masterlist

[aemondfairy]

Thawed Out

summary: Frustrated after losing a game to your brothers’ team, you let Cregan take his frustration out on you.

pairing: Modern!Cregan x Targtower!Reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: Explicit smut, semi-public/rough sex, spit, p in v, creampie, 18+ MDNI

note: Sorry it’s been a month since I’ve posted!! Watch this flop asdfghkl

Your eyelids flutter as Sara lightly dabs glittery eyeshadow onto them with her ring finger.

“Try to hold still,” she tells you, just as your reflection catches her eye in the mirror that hangs on the back of her closet door.

“Oh no,” she frowns, making note of the jersey you’re wearing, “Cregan is not going to like that.”

The jersey — all black, has no distinctive feature of any team, but it does have the name “Targaryen” etched onto the back, and 01 on the front, which is your brother Aemond’s hockey number.

Cregan is number 13.

“Targaryen is my last name,” you remind her, “and besides, Cregan is the one who wants to hide me. If he wants me to wear his jersey to games, he will have to make me more than just a fuck buddy,” you shrug.

Her lips turn downward into a frown, but she nods her head in agreement with you.

Very few people are aware of your relationship with Cregan. He’s a good guy with a big heart, the complete opposite of a fuckboy or a player. The main, if not only, reason why the two of you decided to keep things a secret was so you wouldn’t have to deal with the backlash from your brothers.

Cool air whips against your face, and tensions are high with only a few minutes left remaining of the game.

You watch on eagerly as Aegon pulls a move that is supposedly illegal, but the ref’s don’t seem to count it. Resulting in your brothers’ team winning the game.

You can’t help but wince as you watch Cregan rip his helmet off and make a beeline toward Aegon on the ice.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“Aww,” your eldest brother frowns in response, “Run home with your tail between your legs!” he calls. Cregan grunts in response while the rest of Aegon’s teammates, Aemond included, howl maniacally like wolves. Making a mockery of Cregan and the rest of his team.

You roll your eyes at the scene and push your way out of the stands and through the crowd.

You pick at your fingernails nervously as you wait outside the locker room, refusing to enter until the remainder of Cregan’s teammates pass you by.

The smell of sweat fills your senses as you enter the abandoned locker room.

“Cregan,” you call, “baby?”

The locker room is quiet and dim. The only audible sound in the room is the faint buzzing of one of the poorly lit fluorescent lights.

Cregan is sat on one of the benches, his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. You reach your arms around him.

“Hey,” you offer, “for what it’s worth, you did great.”

“I’m just so fucking pissed off!”

Cregan’s deep voice echoes through the locker room as he throws his stick to the floor. As mentioned earlier, Cregan’s a stand up guy, but his temper is a force to be reckoned with; and nothing sets it off quite like losing a hockey game.

“I know you’re upset baby,” you state empathetically as you dig the pads of your fingers into his shoulders. An attempt to massage the tense tissue, he all but grunts in response.

“You wanna take it out on me?”

“What?” He asks in a deadpan.

“Your frustration … you should just take it out on me.”

Cregan raises his eyebrows at this but he takes no time to react. He stands up quickly, his thick frame hovering over yours before he shoves you against the lockers abruptly. Gripping at your chin with force, he demands you to open your mouth. You oblige and he spits directly down your throat, you swallow obediently with a content mewl as wetness pools at your center.

A pathetic “please” is all you’re able to muster out to him as he stares at you hungrily.

He takes a seat on the bench, tugging his uniform pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles in one swift motion, exposing his cock.

His calloused hands lift you onto his lap with haste. A shiver runs through your body as he yanks down your leggings and underwear in a quick swoop, causing you to hiss as cool air fans your cunt. It isn’t long before Cregan’s warm hand is cupping you, his fingers playing in your slick.

You want to cry out when he removes his hand from you but once his hands are at your thighs again, spreading you open, you feel the throbbing head of his cock prodding against you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, egging him on, “come on, I said, take it out on me.”

A growl erupts from his chest as he forcefully spears you down onto his cock, filling you to the hilt. Your eyes flutter shut and you try your best to suppress a moan as he begins to split you open.

He continues with unrelenting thrusts while his grip on your hips only tightens, taking full control.

“Fuckin. Targaryen’s,” he says through gritted teeth, harshly slapping the swell of your ass. Your head snaps up as you glare at him disapprovingly.

“Obviously not you baby,” he coo’s reassuringly, running his fingers along the red handprint that’s forming, soothing the pain before kneading at the tender flesh.

“It’s just— Gods, do they fuckin’ rile me up,” he mumbles as both his hands make their way to your waist again, helping him thrust into you even harder.

“I know, baby, I know” you whimper, pressing your forehead to his as he continues to fuck into you at an unrelenting pace.

“But you know just how to make me feel better, don’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out as he perfectly angles his cock against your cervix.

“Yeah you do, this sweet little pussy is all I need.”

You can feel the tension building in your body at his words, your breath coming out in short gasps as he expertly moves inside of you.

His fingers trail down from your hips to your cunt again, sending hot waves of electricity through you.

His intense, grey, gaze never leaves yours. With each thrust, you feel yourself on the brink of insanity. Each drag of his length has you closer and closer to the edge.

Cregan moves with determination, his body pressed hard against yours as he takes you to new heights of pleasure. His digits finally find the apex of your thighs and pinch at your throbbing bud, causing you to gasp and arch your back.

Urging him on as he expertly works his fingers over your most sensitive spot. Each touch sends waves of pleasure through you. With one final pinch and a flick of his thumb, you’re cumming around him — gasping and trembling as the walls of your cunt tighten around his length.

His breathing comes labored and heavy, his eyes squeezed shut as he chases his own release. His own hips stuttered as he felt you continue to pulse around him. Unable to keep his composure any longer, he lets out a loud groan and spills himself inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuckin’ Targaryen’s,” he drawls, this time his tone is filled with appreciation.

[peachsayshi]

i think it’d be so cute if sukuna is napping and his son comes to put flowers in his hair 🥹

 ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: fluff; domestic - wc: 704

"Rai?"

You glance from room to room, your worry pinching between your brows. The two of you had just come back from the garden and while you were distracted speaking to your ladies in waiting, your son decided to scamper off with his little basket of treasures somewhere else within the palace. It takes you a few minutes until his possible whereabouts click in your head, so you turn on your heel and head towards the opposite direction.

The screen door is open, revealing the cursed king's quarters. Sukuna was fast asleep, taking his usual mid-afternoon nap. Rai is standing by his side, one hand holding his basket while the other slowly rummages through the delicate flowers inside.

Your son places a yellow flower between the blades of his father's pink hair, having already curated a small field while you've been searching for him this whole time.

Rai scrunches his nose thoughtfully, a unique little trait he does when thinking which Sukuna recently pointed out to you. He rummages through the petals and leaves, until finally pulling out a purple bloom that suited his eye. The stem is longer and thicker than the others, but you hold back a laugh watching your son directly stab the end atop the crown of his father's head.

Sukuna grimaces.

Rai huffs out a breath of disappointment, mirroring his father's disgruntled expression as he tries to plunge the flower into the roots of his scalp once again.

Sukuna groans lightly, bringing one arm to lightly wave over his head, assuming it might just be a pesky fly.

Rai pulls the flower close to his face, staring at it thoughtfully before raising his brow as an idea passes through.

He then, smartly, slides the stem through the crack behind Sukuna's ear, effectively waking up your beast from his slumber.

Sukuna's eyes flutter open, one hand reaching to swipe away his son's tiny palm but the second he feels the warmth of his skin his whole body relaxes.

"What are you doing, pest?" he murmurs, the scratch in his voice a sign of his exhaustion.

"We got flowers!" your son squeaks, the basket slipping from his hand as Sukuna scoops him up from the ground.

He stands upright - his height daunting, and your child almost a comical figure clutched against his muscular frame.

Rai brings two hands to his cheeks, "You look nice, papa!"

"I was sleeping," he pouts with frustration, noticing your presence when he tilts his head to face you.

His shoulders relax, his body angling your way as he approaches you. He shakes his hair out halfway through, a rain of flowers cascading into a trail behind his feet.

Rai whips his head furiously. "Papa, the flowers!" he exclaims, wriggling slightly to release himself.

Sukuna sighs as he crouches onto the floor, allowing Rai to gather up the flowers that fell.

"Wait, I'll put 'em back on..." his son insists.

Sukuna rolls his eyes before gazing up at you helplessly from underneath his lashes, remaining kneeled to stay on his son's level.

"Just toss it away-" he curly replies.

Rai pauses and looks down at the flowers in his hands. A few seconds register for him to comprehend his father's command, but he misunderstood the snide comment and instead through the flowers above his head like they were strings of confetti.

Sukuna facepalms, and you chuckle.

Rai giggles at both your reactions, and picks up the bruising petals and wilting stems from the ground.

Despite his withdrawn reactions, Sukuna's body responds with devotion. He makes room for his son to slot himself back into his frame, and naturally tilts his head lower so that he can stick the flowers back into his hair once again.

You inch closer to the pair, your lover instantly curling an arm around the back of your thighs to welcome you into his embrace.

"He's right," you blurt, "you do look pretty..."

"Don't start with me, brat," Sukuna teasingly responds through gritted teeth.

When Rai manages to stick the last flower back on, he seals the act by holding his father's chin and kissing him softly on the jaw.

The cursed king hums, and your heart flutters with love.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@coffeeaddictedmay

@boringusername3

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@annedub

@jules-1999

@black--lightning

@j-velvet

@xoxabs88xox

@cyanide-cryptid

@callsignvenus

@artemissunn

@gcldtom

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@birdy-bat-writes

@wkndwlff

@chaosmxlcolm

@iminlovewithenchilidadas

@daniibzz

@avis15

@valhallavalkyrie9

@ijustwantedplums

@hal3ynicol3

@avengersfan25

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@lovingperfectionsblog

@bblpbb

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@adaydreamaway08

@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

[prythianpages]

A Field of Dandelions | Azriel

azriel x green witch reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

“Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”

warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.

a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.

The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.

Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.

“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.

Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.

“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”

“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.

You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.

“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”

The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.

“Azriel will be escorting you today.”

You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.

“Our son’s life is in your hands.”

Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”

She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”

**

Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.

Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps. 

He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”

You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.

A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.

You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder. 

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”

Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”

“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.

**

Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.

When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact. 

That is, until, he met you.

Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.

Shelves made of twisted vines and wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.

Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness. 

You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.

His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.

When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.

His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”

Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”

The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.

“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”

Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s on the house.”

“But–”

“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”

His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.

He wants you. His mate.

But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.

The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.  

She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.

“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.

Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.

The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.

Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could. 

But it was too late.

He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?

The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away. 

Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.

But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake. 

So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.

**

It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.

It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.

A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.

“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”

Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it’s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”

Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.

**

You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the sweet and delicate fragrance surrounding you. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions is mesmerizing almost, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes aching to be set free.

Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.

Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.

“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation:  “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.” 

“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.

“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”

You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”

Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away.

You smile at him as he carefully accepts the stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating joyfully. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him.

A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.

Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.

Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a fine constellation of possibilities. 

The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face.

Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile forms on his face.

He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching.

Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.

**

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood.

Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”

Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance. 

“Eris.”

The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”

A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.

“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.

But you’re unfazed.

Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.

“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”

A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.

“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.

 “We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion. 

Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”

You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.

You turn to him with a glare that he returns.

“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”

“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add:  “He hurt you.”

“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”

**

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown.  “Does it hurt?”

“No.” 

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”

Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away. 

 “Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen. 

With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him. 

“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.

As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.

“Azriel.” You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…

“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.

But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”

“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.

“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”

When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.

“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”

His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”

“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”

“But that night at Rita’s–”

“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”

Silence falls over you two. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”

“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”

The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.

 “This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”

Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”

You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him. 

Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.

It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved. 

“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“My only wish was for you to be mine.” He confesses, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Done.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.

here's an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here

here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here

if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here

[evie-sturns]

dent - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you accidentally dent matt's car after taking it to work, when you give matt the news he doesn't comfort you, quite the opposite actually resulting in an argument. he finds a good way to make it up to you after he realises he overreacted.

contains: angst, arguing, crying, yelling, slight panic attack, smut, fingering, matt the munch, fluff.

----------------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-------------------

I walk out of my office into the cold hair which hits my bare skin harshly, I tug down my mini dress with a sigh as i approach my boyfriend, matt's, car. he let me borrow it for work today due to the fact my cars in the repair shop.

I swing open the door to his car, flopping down into the drivers seat and instantly turning on the heating. I drive forward a couple meters before realising i left my phone in the office

"shit" i mumble, slamming on the brakes and swinging open my door.

It hits the pole which i pulled up next to, "oh my fuck-" i gasp, "no- no" i repeat before jumping out of my car, looking at the door. It has a reasonably large dent in it now.

"no, no no no.." i throw my head into my hands, i decide to grab my phone then deal with this situation.

my heels click against the concrete as i sprint towards the front door of the office,

I swiftly run into the elevator and press level 6, my finger shaking. "what do I even say to matt!" I mumble to myself.

the elevator door opens with a ding and i make my way towards my room, I pull out my keys and unlock the door, walking back in and swiping my phone off of the desk. I run back towards the elevator and pile in with one of my coworkers.

"You 'goin lobby?" she asks, I nod with a forced smile as i fix my hair in the mirror. The door to the elevator opens, I speed-walk out and out the building towards matt's car.

I start to instantly feel guilty as i look at the door on the drivers side again, I open the door more carefully this time and jump in, I turn on the car and pull out of the parking spot,

my hands grip the wheel as panic flushes over me, "matt will understand, i'm sure."

-

after parking the car in the driveway I walk up the front porch, I knock twice on the door as I feel my eyes water slightly, I push back my tears with a deep breath.

Matt opens the door with a tired smile, "hey sweetheart! how was work?" he breathes out, I walk inside with a shaky breath, folding my arms over my stomach.

"matt.. i need to tell you something" i say, looking up at him with my bottom lip trembling.

"yeah!? anything- are you okay?" he says with a concerned look on his face.

"i- i um" i take a deep breath before continuing "i accidentally opened the car door into a pole- like really hard and now theres a big dent" i squeeze out, my voice breaking halfway through

"you what?" he raises his voice "let me see it?"

i nod, walking back outside towards the car, matt follows close behind me. he takes one look at the door and instantly turns around, throwing his hands up

"of course you fucking did!" matt raises his voice, walking back inside

"matt i'm sorry-" i start but matt cuts me off "i dont wanna hear it- i dont wanna hear your voice,"

my eyebrows twist "matt what? i'm gonna pay for that you know that" i say, slightly louder, following matt inside

"no- how the fuck are you that blind? how do you slam the car into a pole that big? are you fucking stupid!" matt yells, looking at me directly in the eyes.

my lips part in shock, "you can't speak to me like that matt! it was an accident" i argue back, matt scoffs.

"you're so fucking clueless."

i feel my eyes water, "why don't you do anything right?" he groans loudly.

i burst into sobs, "don't say that" i whisper, taking in sharp panicked breaths.

"i'll say what i want!? you can tell me what to say and what not to when you grow a fucking conscious!"

and with that i go to walk down the corridor past matt, already embarrassed from crying. he grabs my wrist tugging me back towards him. i gasp with an ugly sob

"look at me." matt growls, i shake my head looking down at my feet.

"look at me!" he raises his voice, "fine!" i yell, looking up at him.

"if my car. isn't fixed by tomorrow evening. we're going to have a problem y/n." matt says blankly.

"i know- let me go!" i whine, he releases his grip and i run towards matt and i's bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

i hear matt mutter something about me being pathetic through the door

“stop being so mean matt!” i yell in a bratty way, i feel my breathing get shallow, my body gradually heating up

my sobs never slow, in fact they get worse the more that the argument we just hand sinks into me. the whole house is now silent aside from matt and i’s room where i’m struggling to breathe

i sink down onto the floor against the wall as i bury my face in my knees, i take in shaky attempts of breathes as i cry into the fabric of my pants.

I pick up my phone and email matt’s insurance company, informing them on what just happened to his car. My hands shake against the keyboard, as soon as i press send i’m up off the floor and in my closet, tearing off my minidress and changing into one of matt’s shirts.

——

I’ve been laying in bed for about an hour now, just now realising that i haven’t ate since mid day and now it’s 9pm, i’ve finally calmed myself down after what happened earlier

matt won’t be in the kitchen i’m sure, i hoist myself up off of bed and walk into the corridor. I feel myself get nervous, i don’t want to get upset again.

as i reach the end of the corridor i enter the kitchen, matt sitting at the dining table on his phone with a plate of dinner infront of him,

it’s okay.

if i don’t look at him i’ll be fine.

i can see out of the side of vision matt looking up at me, i open the pantry.

matt clears his throat before starting, “I made you dinner aswell.. it- it’s in the fridge and there’s muffins in there too.” matt says softly, his voice is quiet, like if he gets any louder i’ll disappear.

i don’t respond, i don’t have to respond to anything he does after how he treated me earlier.

i open the fridge to see a plate of pasta in the fridge, topped with a stupid green leaf on top which matt ‘only does for special occasions’, i remember him telling me and we laughed about it for hours.

along side there’s a couple of muffins which have a poor attempt of being iced, a dollop of icing ontop of each one with some strategically placed sprinkles.

i take the two plates as i keep my lips pressed into a line, i walk back down the corridor into our room and shut the door behind me with a loud sigh.

i have to admit, it was sweet what he had made, he’s always had a weird love for cooking for me no matter how bad he was at it, i think it was because of the amount of enthusiasm i gave him every time he presented it to me.

i sit down at matt’s desk, my feet up on the chair as i take a small bite. I didn’t really have an appetite but i was hungry, and this was nice.

after devouring the muffins i was feeling better, it was now 9:30pm and I decided that i needed to have my hour on my phone in bed before i sleep. I leave the dishes in a neat pile on the desk.

usually i would take them into the kitchen but i didn’t want to see matt, i knew i would cry this time.

I flop down into matt and i’s bed, it feels empty without him. We’ve slept in the same bed every night of our relationship and it’s the only way i can sleep.

—-

10:23pm

knock knock

i hear soft knocking on the door, i choose to ignore it.

knock knock

again, followed by the door clicking open. i’m practically buried under the duvet, only my hair visible so i keep my eyes infront of me at my phone.

i hear matt’s footsteps get closer to the bed, from the small gap out of the duvet i see his jeans by the bed.

i think he’s trying to figure out if i’m awake or not.

I let out a deep sigh and tug the duvet up higher. Matt takes in a shaking breath as he looks down at me.

“can— may i sit down next to you? i want to talk” matt whispers.

may i? on normal days i would laugh at that, it’s so formal.

if i don’t agree we won’t talk this out, meaning that i won’t get any closure for longer. I nod my head slightly. matt climbs into bed beside me, the weight shifting to his side as he sits uncomfortably

he doesn’t waste time to start talking

“I’m so sorry- i’m so embarrassed about everything i said, i didn’t mean it.” matt’s voice trembles.

“do you want to come out of there- I want to see you.” matt whispers, tapping my shoulder lightly though the blanket.

i pull down the duvet and sit up against the duvet next to matt, i look up at him briefly. he looks distraught

his eyes are puffy and red, his nose red and eyes glossy.

he looks at me and i see guilt wash over him.

“i love you so much— i don’t want to loose what we have over a dent in my car.” matt says calmly,

“i said things that i’m really really not proud of.. at all. i didn’t even know what i was saying.. my mouth was spitting out shit faster than i could process.”

“i’m not even sure what i was saying.” matt sighs

“you- you’re mad at me though” i whisper

“i’m not mad at you princess, i’ve never been mad at you i promise. i just freaked out over something minor” matt says, reaching down and interlocking our fingers as a single tear falls from his eyes, i reach up and wipe it quickly.

“you don’t have to forgive me, i’m not expecting you to. but if you want- i could make it up to you..? or not i don’t know- i could go sleep in the spare bedroom if you need time alone i mean, but i’m so sorry.” he rambles

“make it up to me?” i whisper, “like how?” i ask with a sniff.

“you know…” matt hints “the thing that you like a lot from me?”

i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

“i’m sorry for making you cry sweetheart,” matt says, wiping my face with his cold hands.

“i’m fine- it’s okay.” i give matt a small smile.

he nods understandably before sitting up, he walks over to the edge of the bed beside me and lightly grips my ankles, spinning me round so my legs dangle off the edge of the bed

Matt kneels on the floor between my legs “can i take these off?” he asks softly, referring to the lace panties underneath matt’s shirt that i threw on earlier

i nod quickly, “words please” matt smiles, “yes- yes you can please” i spit out.

“there she is” matt says, hooking his fingers over the waistband and tugging them down to my ankles.

he doesn’t waste time to wrap his arms under my thighs, holding my lower back lightly to keep me up in the sitting position. “this okay?” he breathes, “yes!” i reply instantly, feeling the heat between my legs grow.

matt starts to press small pecks to the insides of my thighs, kissing around where i need him the most.

embarrassingly, i let out a soft whimper from the little amount of touch.

matt loves to eat me out, i’m not sure why but he goes all out like it’s his last meal. he says it’s because it makes me feel so good which i find cute.

“so pretty” matt says from between my thighs, he finally attaches his mouth to my clit,

“oh my god-“ i moan, intertwining my fingers on one hand into his brunette hair and placing my other hand behind me, feeling myself grow weak already.

matt removes one hand from under my thigh, letting it fall onto the bed, he reaches under his chin and slowly dips his middle finger into my hole, curling it up slightly “matt!” i whine, bucking my hips up into his mouth

he adds his other finger aswell, the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of me making my eyes roll back.

i grip his hair tighter as matt repeatedly curls his finger “how- how are you so good at this” i breathe out

matt laughs lightly, the vibrations earning a squeal from me.

“fuck fuck-“ i whimper, feeling myself get close.

matt swirls his tongue around my clit,

and with that my legs clench around his head and i finish

i feel myself release on matt’s fingers, my legs shake around his head as he pulls his mouth off of me, being careful to not overstimulate me.

i collapse down on the matress behind me, attempting to catch my breath as i let go of matt’s hair.

matt smiles stupidly at me, his lips glistening. he picks me up off the bed, holding me by my ass. he pecks kisses down my neck.

“thank you.” i sigh, burying my face into his neck.

“don’t thank me.” matt laughs, carrying me into the living room and flopping down on the couch, i lay on his body.

“matt?” i ask quietly

“yeah pretty?” he reply’s, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.

“you know i love you.” i say into his shirt “i love you more.” matt smiles

“and your rings- please don’t ever take them off.” i laugh.

“whys that?” matt teases,

“they feel so good.” i mutter out, barely audible.

“is that so?” matt grins, “yes- yeah” my cheeks flush

matt chuckles slightly, shifting me up and down on his chest.

“you know the muffins you made that were in the fridge?” i start up a new conversation

“yeah?” matt smiles, “what the fuck was going on with the icing- i mean they were really good but the icing was… special!” i burst out laughing

matt laughs with me before replying

“i actually don’t know- i don’t think bakings for me. i put the icing on and it like melted into the cupcake”

i scoff, “it’s okay baby, they were so cute”

——————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @pkfferroo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[lumibuns-blog]

Ghost x Soap's roomie Morning routine

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

This time its just Simon having not felt the touch of a women in years and that being so so obvious lmaooo.

Simon woke up from a surprisingly restful sleep, his back may have been shifted into a less than ideal position and his legs were sticking out over the arm rest, but he woke up mostly rested. Stretching and cracking his back with a low groan, he shuffled to the kitchen. 8:32, his internal clock had graciously given him an extra two minutes of sleep before waking him on instinct. He dragged a hand over his tired face and slumped over to the bathroom. He hissed as his eyes adjusted to the bright bathroom light and he looked at himself in the mirror.

It had gotten hot in the middle of the night, and so his sweat pants had been discarded somewhere by the couch, leaving him in only his low hanging boxer shorts. He looked like a pure mess, short hair tussled in every direction, prominent bags hung under his eyes but still did nothing to distract from the scars that littered his face. He pinched his brow and tried to remember where he had left his face mask the night before. For the first time in a long time, he found himself hyperaware of his own appearance. It wasn't just his "ugly mug" anymore, he found himself wondering if there was some way he could get those stubborn bags to disappear. But he couldn't quite understand why he wanted to look "better", his head too foggy with sleep to place these emotions somewhere. Until there was a muffled shuffling outside the open bathroom door, he turned to find the source of the noise and felt his mind snap back into the right place almost immediately.

There you stood, in perhaps the tiniest pair of shorts he had ever seen and tight white tank-top that was nothing short of see-thru. He tensed up and dragged his eyes up your figure, having to bite his lip and physically force his eyes from your chest and what was poking through your shirt. He settled on looking at your face, eyelids heavy with sleep and squinting from the light, your messy hair cascaded down your shoulders as you yawned. It was only then he remembered what he was wearing and he began to self-consciously pull up on his boxer shorts. Unfazed and unbothered, you slotted next to him in front of what he was slowly beginning to realize was much too small of a sink.

"Mornin'" you grumbled, voice still laced with sleep

"ahm-" he felt his voice get stuck in his throat and quickly coughed to clear it "Uh- mornin'" he finally drawled out, doing his best to remain collected.

It was difficult for him to retain any semblance collectedness as he turned towards the mirror and saw just how close you were. Your shoulder practically bumping into his lower bicep. He began to realize just how much of a hight difference you shared and he could feel his face heating up. So he fumbled for his toothbrush and began to maneuver it with shaky hands.

"Sleep okay?" You droned, turning lazily to look up towards him

"jus' fine" He breathed, not daring to look down at you, knowing it would be too much for him to handle.

"That's good" You chirped back, a smile evident in your voice.

He dared to look down in your direction and found you attempting to squeeze a bit of product out of a tube. You scrunched you face up in a sleepy effort to get more out of what was clearly an almost empty bottle. After a couple moments of trying you slumped over and, without looking at him, moved the tube towards his hands.

"wot?" he looked at you directly now, genuinely confused

"You do it" you slurred "my hands are still too sleepy" and, as if to prove your point, you held out one hand to him and tried your hardest to clench it into a fist but to no avail.

"wh- but- um...okay" he relented almost immediately

If you had been more conscious you might have chuckled at the sight of Simon 'Ghost' Riley crouched down slightly, his face twisted in concentration as he produced a small amount of product from the tube. Carefully dabbing it onto your palm, cautious to not touch your hand with his. You had heard of him from the animated stories your roommate recounted to you with while on leave. You had expected this mostly silent, mysterious, and deadly soldier to approach you like a roaring storm. Sweeping into your life for a weak and leaving a confusing, mangled mess in its wake. But instead he entered more like a calm spring rain, he approached you like he was afraid if he moved too quickly he would startle you off. He looked at you not like some hardened fighter would survey their surroundings. But like a small child sitting on a playground bench, just waiting for someone else to finally tell them they could join in the fun that they had silently observed for so long. Simon Riley may have been a bit of a mystery to you now, but you were determined to change that.

"looks like I'm almost out..." you sighed, having taken the product back from his shaking hands and washing you face with it. You stood there for a moment, shifting your weight back and forth from one foot to another, "Go shopping with me?" you offered with a bright smile, suddenly much more awake than you had been before.

"s'cuse me?" He answered, befuddled beyond comprehension

But you had already bounded off down the hallway not waiting for an answer. You swung open the door the Johnny's room just as Kyle was reaching for the handle

"easy there sweet'art" he chuckled, pushing past you with a hand on your head "'morning to you too mate" he nudged Simon and chuckled at his perturbed expression. Gaz knew that if he was anyone else, his mate probably would have broken the hand he set you, so he just strode into the kitchen. Once again unfazed, you continued into Johnny's room.

"what 'er you up to?" Simon questioned, one hand propping himself up on the door frame.

"Waking the little prick up so we can go out" you stated matter-a-factly.

"wouldn't bet on it" Gaz called from the kitchen

"hm?" you tilted your head to one side

"-e's right" Simon sighed "Not even the Cap' can get 'im up when he's got a day off"

you just smiled and rolled you eyes "It's not that hard" you chuckled "see?"

they both watched with interest as you picked up a pillow from the bed and took a step back. They then watched as you lifted the pillow in the air,

"Johnny!" you yelled

there was no response besides a small shuffle.

"John Mactavish!?" you winded up further

"mmm...ooOWW!? THE 'ELL YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN' EH?" Johnny's voice crescendoed as you began to hit him with the pillow. They were quick, hard, and precisely aimed strikes, "AYE STOP THAT YA' WEE SONOFA-" he grabbed the pillow on one of your downward strokes and easily wrenched it from your hand. You turned tail and ran, brushing past Simon's frame in the door and rounding to the couch. Simon barely had a chance to react to your movement before Johnny was shoving past him, pillow in hand.

"get 'yer arse back here!" Johnny growled, all but leaping over the kitchen island to reach you, now having come to standstill as you both stood on opposite sides of the coffee table.

"see?" you grinned, gesturing with one hand to your smirking roommate and with the other to your guests, "Easy to get him up if ya do it right." you narrowed your eyes in a teasing gesture.

"Oh haha! Real feckin funny 'a you" Johnny quipped "gettin' me up on ma' day off, takin' the piss from the lot'a you" you groaned, before holding up his pillow and smirking, "put somethin' on wouldya'? fookin chebs 'r out" He scolded, before throwing the pillow in your direction.

"what you mean my-?" you looked down before your face turned bright red, "you-" you stammered "you disgusting little perv!"

You scowled and picked up the closest thing to you, a lip glass container that had sat on the coffee table, and threw it at him with deadly aim. It hit his temple and you clutched the pillow closer to your chest.

"AYE! that shit 'urts ya know?" He picked up the lip products and pointed it at you accusatorially.

"Good" you smiled as you trudged back to your room, presumably to change, "We leave to go shopping in 20" you call

"We're doing shopping?" Johnny suddenly perked up, eyes wide like a dog before he tried to hide his excitement. "an' who's 'we', I didnae agreed tae go anywhere wit' you" you teased

"Wasn't talking about you" you peaked your head around the corner "Simon and I are going." you stated "Kyle, you're invited. Johnny? I'll let ya tag along if you're nice." you grinned, closing the door to your room.

Kyle and Johnny now both turned back to Simon who standing completely still on the other side of the room, having managed to wrestle his sweatpants on during the chaos. He stood there with his mouth slightly agape, on one hand he was buzzing with excitement over the fact you had specifically wanted to go out shopping with him specifically. On the other hand, seeing you run around in only that tank top was forcing him to bite his cheek to stave off a stiffy that would have been all too obvious. He could picture chasing you around the flat, just the two of you home, lifting you up by your waist and letting you hook your ankles around his waist. He needed to be close enough to feel your warmth, he needed to know what you would feel like around him, around his-

"'s that true L.t?" Johnny broke him from his thoughts, doing his best to sound actually hurt.

"'s nothin' don' worry 'bout it" Simon grumbled

"don' sound like nothing" Kyle teased.

"drop it" Simon warned, taking a seat at the island

"Not until you drop whateva's goin' on doon there man" Johnny gestured widely to his friends lower half, now concealed by the table. "Gettin' a right stauner from that? From 'er? ma' fookin flatmate man? 's a little embarrassing no?" he finished with a half hearted chuckle

"Not another word" Simon dragged both his hands through his short hair as he propped himself up on his elbows, the threatening tone in his voice shut Johnny up quick. Him and Kyle snickering to themselves as they left to go get dressed.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, never before had someone been able to throw him off like you were. It was like you took ever part of his hardened exterior away and left him as vulnerable as the day he born and even stranger, he didn't mind it. He didn't mind that your gaze set his body on fire, he didn't mind that every time he though about your hight difference he felt compelled to squeeze you so hard you might break. He was just so enamored with you, that even as he calmed down enough to get fully dressed, his mind kept drifting back to you in this primal, protective way. Where he wished you had let those two sleep in so he could have had you all to himself, even if the thought of having to make conversation with you did sound terrifying.

You gave him no more time to think however, as you bounded out of the hallway in a cute short sundress, you hair pulled up and off your neck. You opened the door and turned back to him and his two friends who had followed you out to the main room.

"ready to go?" you chimed

Simon moved towards to door subconsciously, he would have followed you anywhere.

Omg I finally got a longer part out thank godddd lmao. Finished with midterms so I should be back to regular posting! I'll have their shopping trip posted within a couple days and I'll do a little ghost x reader thing for halloween. mwah!

Tags: @sleep101 @urbimom@noisydelusionlove@plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis@jenlvr01@lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno@nina-from-317@strawberrygateau@leryg0@weemansoap@dreamtofus@imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona @castellomargot @foxintheferns @weallhaveadestiny @identity2212 @trashitytrashtrash @glitteryarcadefart @thepowers-kat-be @xi1dius

[stilinskibaby]

brother's best friend.

PAIRING : stiles stilinski x mccall!reader.

CONTENT : fluff ๑ angst ๑ smut

it started out as a childhood crush, as most longterm infatuations do. you couldn't have been older than four when you met stiles, your stiles. he was missing his front tooth and he spoke with a lisp.

he was wildly loud and animated and you know when you're a kid and you think a boy is so cute that you're sure there's hearts in your eyes. he spoke of playing dragons and knights with scott, “oh! and you can be the princess.”

it was a memory that you kept crawling back to, a time much simpler than now. you could have let out a cold laugh, now you were in constant fear of your life, scott’s life, stiles’ life. it wasn't anything you couldn't handle but you wished for the times when all you had to worry about was your silly schoolgirl crush on stiles.

today was surprisingly quiet, just defeating peter and dealing with the deadpool, you were tired. all of you were, but you kept an eye open just on the off chance that something would try to kill one of your friends.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, and dotted some concealer under your eyes, anything to make it look like you got some sleep last night. you didn't have scott’s powers to fall back on, nor lydia’s intelligence and intuition. everyday you wondered if you'd be another human lost in the fight against the preternatural.

you tried to wipe the thoughts from your head before walking down the main hall of the high school, stiles stood leaning against his locker while your brother talked about god knows what.

you walked up to the two of them and tried to act normal. like stiles isn't a whole foot away from you, like his cologne isn't enough to make your knees quiver, like every little wink, smile and joke doesn't make you wanna beg him to love you.

you'd been dealing with this crush for as long as you have memories, it should be easier by now. it seemed like lately though, it was getting harder. almost like he was purposefully invading all your thoughts.

“helllloooo?” you came back to the present because of stiles’ voice and scott's hand waving in front of your face. your skin warmed from the embarrassment of getting caught zoning out.

“what? sorry, I'm just tired,” you sighed, seemingly having said that alot recently. but dealing with what you can only assume to be a unrequited crush is tiring. especially when that crush happens to be on your brother's best friend.

stiles eyes squinted with disbelief. if there was one thing you hated about the boy, it was his ability to tell when anyone was lying.

“right, anyways,” scott continued eyeing you from the corner of his eyes but you were already zoning out again.

your day continued on like that, just skating by with your mind constantly drifting back to stiles. it felt almost like you were cursed, your brain almost short circuiting whenever you tried to think of literally anything else.

before you knew it, as if on airplane mode you found yourself walking out the doors towards the jeep. since scott started working at the clinic, you'd just been riding home with stiles. and due to the supernatural nature of your life, it's easier this way.

you climbed into the jeep and tried to keep a semblance of calm. stiles scent was invading your nostrils, with his lacrosse gear in the back seat and him sitting directly next to you. a soft song played on the radio, and if your emotions weren't getting the best of you ; you'd romanticize the man before you.

you were almost never quiet when left alone with stiles, it almost like you don't know how to shut up when around him. so the silence filling the jeep was becoming a bit much even for the hyperactive mind of stiles stilinski.

“you sure you're okay, sunshine?” his hand awkwardly patted your leg. stiles has been calling you sunshine forever, it's yours-and-his special little thing and even when you feel like the world is crushing you, it still gives you butterflies.

you had be around ten, you sat on the bus one seat in front of stiles and scott. stiles was talking mindlessly about lydia ( 12 year olds and their crushes ). and some kid was in the seat in front of you talking about how weird you were. being just a kid, you were almost to tears until stiles heard what the unkind words sprouted from the kid’s mouth.

“you don't even know what you're talking about! she's like sunshine.”

you found yourself blushing and feeling embarrassed, just for the kid to start making fun of you and stiles.

you let the silence hang a bit longer, trying to buy some time to tell a somewhat believable lie. the jeep came to a stop in front of stiles’ house. your eyebrows knit together trying to remember if there was some prior agreement that you forgot about.

“i think i know exactly what you need!” stiles spoke excitedly, and your heart felt like it was gonna fall out of your chest.

“a-and what's that?” you tried to convey a sarcastic tone but your voice shook as spoke. you prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't notice.

his eyes scanned your face as if trying to pry into your mind and it would give him all the answers. “movie night! i know we haven't done one in forever, but i think it'll help get your mind off whatever is bothering you. I know scott is usually here for this,” he sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.

your heart warmed, you couldn't believe the absolute kindness this boy had to offer. though every moment around him, was a kick to ego and a kiss for your heart.

“thank you, stiles,” his hand still awkwardly sat on your thigh, burning a metaphorical hole through your jeans.

he grinned that big smile, the one where his whole face turns into pure joy. it took everything in you not to just kiss him right there. and right as you began to get the courage he pops open his door and falls out the jeep. you chuckled to yourself bitterly.

you followed him into his room where you plopped yourself down on the bed. “so what's on tonight, star wars again?” you giggled as you watched him fumble through his dvds.

“actually, i rented heathers last night just for you, i know it's your favorite!” this boy was going to kill you.

and just like old times, he made popcorn and let you lay on his chest. you thought you might throw up. watching your favorite film, with the biggest crush of your life and it started to feel like you were suffocating.

you sat up anxiously, leaning against the wall, stiles’ head lazily rolled to the side, watching your every move.

“stiles,” your voice shook, your lips quivered and you were rubbing your hands intensely.

“hey! woah, hey, it's okay, whatever it is, it's okay, what's got you so upset? did you kill someone or something?” he tried to joke and relieve the tension and at this moment you think that might be an easier conversation.

“no, no, nothing like that,” the Perception of rejection was getting to you, an anvil falling on your heart. you laughed bitterly, “actually, now it feels so dumb. i just, stiles, i-i love you. i love you so much and i cant, i tried to swallow it and for a while that worked,” you were basically sobbing now eyes closed and lip shaking and you were about to lose your breath.

“but i can't, and I can't keep pretending i dont, but it's killing me and that feels dramatic but please, please don't hate me.” he knew this was very serious for you, a girl that almost never let anyone see her cry. amd he didn't mean to, and he feels so bad for it but he laughs, it just thr awkwardness that's in his bones.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please I didn't mean to laugh, but i guess it just seems so silly to me that you wouldn't just tell me or someone and let it get so bad.” he pauses almost like he's trying to find his words. and all you can think about is running, running as fast as you can but his hand is on your leg and you'd feel so bad for it.

“i can't believe you could be so oblivious, I've been trying to hint to you for years now that i felt the same,” you didn't let him finish his sentence instead, doing what you've always wanted to do : kiss him. your lips mold together perfectly, you felt so far away, like you were in a dream.

the dream felt more hazy, when his hands find your hips and pull you into his lap. you can feel his cock hardened underth you, restrained by his jeans. you grind against and whimper into his mouth.

“stiles, stiles if you don't do something right now,” your words were breathless, somewhere between a whimper and a whine. his fingers move quickly to undo his jeans, while you shed yourself of everything but your bra and panties. you always wore cute panties in a secret way to manifest this happening.

as soon as he has you below, his hands are moving to grope your tits, he groans, eyes scanning every inch of your body, trying to commit every part of you to memory.

“fuck, you're so pretty, baby.” his words go straight to your core, warm, wet and clenching around nothing. you're thoughtless, the only thing left in your mind is him, so you just whine.

his fingers trace around your hips and slide your thong to the side to get a view of your beautiful cunt.

“you ready?” you nod, and he shakes his head, as if a new man. “say it,” as his hands slide over every part of your body except where you need him most.

“m ready, please stiles need you, need your cock. please, please” you were practically begging so pumped himself a few times before sheathing his full length into your cunt. it's so deliciously painful.

“mm such a good girl, taking me so well,” he pressed his lips against your forehead in a long kiss. before giving you long thick strokes, ans his hand reaching between you to rub little circles onto your clit. you were seeing white as continued to fuck you, your fingernails scraping against his pale skin.

his teeth gritted as he moaned, trying so hard to hold back. “m close, please please.” you whined and he fucked you faster, and harder. rough groans falling out of his lips.

your climax was closing in on your, your nails skating harder against him, your legs closing in around his hips. you basically screamed your orgasm out against stiles neck. he chuckled to himself, proud he could do all this. he funally let go, fucking you both through your climaxes. and keeping his now soft cock in your cunt, to keep his cum in you. thank god for birth control.

[milfsdoll]

Good luck, babe.

Writer!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Twelve years later, a package is sent to your home, the latest book from your ex secret lover. The gesture turns your whole life upside down, a harsh wave of your old feelings and memories dragging you towards her again.

Warnings: +18, angst, internal homophobia, mentions of Steve, Agatha and reader are both in their thirties, smut, finger and oral sex, reader receiving, praise kink, soft sex.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this one and I may have dropped a tear or two, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did<3 sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my language.

Tag list: @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @yamysunmoon thank you loves <3

Masterlist

“I love my life”

You kept repeating that sentence over and over again, standing before the bathroom mirror, hands resting on the sink, head hung low. Trying to ease your shaky breath, trying to stop the tears that threaded to spill from your closed lids.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life”

With a deep breath you looked up to your reflection, your face reflecting anything but exhaustion and sadness, your mascara ruined from the tears that escaped.

“I fucking love my life”

And you did… right? You had to. 

You had everything you have ever wanted, everything you dreamt of when you were a kid. A good and stable job, a beautiful home to enjoy and take care of and… you had a husband. A perfect, nice, handsome husband.

Then why the fuck did you feel this way? So empty, like you were falling down a pit of darkness, like you had this hollow hole in your heart, every day getting bigger, keeping you from doing normal life things. You had to pull every strength from you just to get up from bed in the morning and go to work. You been feeling like this for years now, but lately… after seeing her on the news again…

Seeing her on tv, being interviewed for her new book, one that you had at home, hidden in the closet, ready to be read. One that she sent you directly with a personal autograph for some fucking sick reason.

No, no, this wasn’t because of her, it couldn’t be, it’s been… what? Twelve years? This was not because of her, no way.

You stared at your left hand, slightly shaking, you inspected your wedding ring, your beautiful, shiny, wedding ring, it should bring you joy, make you feel free, happy. But it only made you nauseous, feeling like you were tied down for life.

Only if you… could… slowly you brought your right hand to the ring, pulling it up from your finger, your mind screaming at you, telling you what a terrible idea this was, your breath hitched, suddenly feeling lighter when it fully came off, like all your burden disappeared in that moment. You wiggled your fingers little bit, bringing your hand up in front of the mirror, you could see the tan mark from the metal, you haven’t taken it off in the whole ten years you’ve been married, and it felt… good. 

You felt fucking good without it.

“No” you whispered, shaking those thoughts from your head and deciding to put the ring back on, but when you were lifting your right hand the ring fell from your hold “fuck!” You hissed trying to catch it as it bounced in the sink “fuck, no, come here” you whined as it slipped again, going directly into the drain “no, shit!” You smashed the marble, cursing your fucking office for not having a proper working sink “what the fuck!?” You groaned, hiding you face in your hands in frustration.

Why the hell did you even have to take it off? It was stupid! Why did you take. it. off?!

“Ok… it’s ok, calm down” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before splashing some water in your face and redoing your make up “it’s alright, he won’t notice, and you’ll go buy a new, exact one, before he does” you tried to calm yourself down, and you were sure if anyone came near the bathroom door and heard you they’d think you have gone crazy, and maybe you have.

And just like that you continued with your day, putting on a good face and getting through your schedule. Going to meetings, getting some paperwork done and going for a drink after with your best friend, and Steve wasn’t going to be home for at least a few more days, so that gave you advantage to get a new ring.

When you finished at work you bid your goodbyes to your coworkers and almost flew to your car in the parking lot, you needed those drinks with Wanda so fucking bad.

As soon as you parked your car you made your way to the bar. You waved at the waitress as you entered before turning around to see Wanda standing up from her seat “oh my god, hi” you instantly sighed in relief as you hugged her, giving her a big squeeze before pulling away and sitting in your usual booth.

“Rough day, huh?” She chuckled at your tired face.

“Week” you corrected her with a huff, hearing her chuckle again. She knew something was off when you called her for an urgent girls night.

You ordered your usual drink, Wanda and you catching up from the two weeks you’ve been apart, when she suddenly saw you naked hand when you went to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Sweetheart?” She asked, her demeanor getting serious now, her head tilting in her famous way.

“Hm?”

“Where is your ring?”

Well, fuck.

You let out a heavy sigh and rested your hand on the table, glancing it for a second before your head turned up to your friend, her face in a worried expression “did something happed with Steve?”

“No, non of that” you shook your head, you marriage was still the same old boring story.

Your face cringed for a moment “but I might have dropped the ring in the damn sink this morning” you winced at the memory, your eyes closing, not wanting to see the disappointed face in the redhead’s face.

But all you heard was laugher, furrowing your eyebrows you looked up at her, watching as she clutched her stomach from laughing “it’s not funny! It fell so fucking dramatically for some reason, I had a really stressful moment there!” You scoffed incredulously at her, the woman laughing even harder at your words.

You started chuckling with her, your hand going to your mouth, actually feeling bad about the whole situation, but it was hilarious really.

“Oh my god” Wanda said breathless, trying to calm down as she wiped her tears away “please tell me if was an accident” she said before taking a deep breath and looking at you.

“Of course it was! What do you take me for?” 

Was it?

“Well… I know things with Steve have been a little tense after he saw the book, so I don’t know, just making sure”

You sighed and took a sip from your drink, contemplating if telling Wanda the truth was a good idea, you knew she wouldn’t judge you, but you didn’t want to bring anymore attention to the topic, and you didn’t want to feel more confused than you were feeling already. So you kept silent.

“By the way… have you read her book, already?” 

“Oh no, and I don’t plan on reading it, honestly”

Wanda cleared there throat, getting visibly uncomfortable all of the sudden “what?” you asked her, sensing her nerves flooding around her.

“You should read it” she sighed, and the pity look she gave you… you didn’t like that look at all.

“Why?” Your voice sounded rough, your eyes glaring at the woman.

“It’s just- I don’t- just read it, alright? You really should…”

Ok now you were the one who was nervous, what the fuck did that woman write about? I mean, the note she left on your book…

This one is for you… good luck, babe.

Those words haunted you at night.

“Wanda…” you were starting to get a really uneasy feeling here “did Agatha write about me?”

Wanda instantly held your hands in hers “I’m so sorry” she said squeezing your hands, but you quickly retreated them, flinching from it like her hold was fire. You stared at her, shock all over your features.

She wouldn’t be capable, right? She did not write about you, maybe Wanda mistook it, maybe the book was about someone else. Agatha wasn’t that cruel to write about you. After all these years, you thought she even forgot about you, your past together. But you did hurt her. You broke her heart. Fuck.

“I-I’m sorry Wands, I have to go”

Without another word you left the bar, not even hearing your friend begging you to stay behind you. Your heart and mind raced, every memory, every feeling, every bit of your past with Agatha starting to flood out. How could she write about such thing? Knowing you had a husband, a life, a reputation. What if people found out it was about you? It could ruin your whole life!

Not noticing how or when, you found yourself parked outside of your place, rushing out of your car you made your way inside, running upstairs, into your bedroom. Flicking the light on, you entered your walk in closet, bringing the chair you had in the corner to the shelves. After taking your heels off you got on it, searching for the book in the back of your closet, whining when you didn’t find it “where the fuck are you?” You got on the arm of the chair, throwing all your purses off the shelve when you saw it pressed against the wall “there you are, fucker” you said under your breath, grabbing the book and getting off the chair.

You instantly sat on it with a huff, not even bothering to take off your suit. You took a deep breath and opened the book, scoffing as you saw the autograph again.

The hours passed and you still were reading the book, your eyebrows formed in a deep frown as you did, not believing your own eyes. And when you flipped the last page, you stared at the last words, suddenly feeling how hard it was to breathe, unbuttoning your blouse at the top.

You felt like you were suffocating, having just read you entire fucking college life in a book. Your hands trembled, tears running down your cheeks as you got up, the book still in your hand. You stared at it for a minute, trying to process everything you just read, did she really see you this way? So selfish, so heartless, so cruel.

You were not that way, you had to leave her, for your own good, for your future. You could not be that way, you could not be like her, you just couldn’t, your parents… they would have disowned you, hated you even, she knew that. Why the fuck did she write you this way? Like you were the fucking villain?

Anger filled your body and mind in a second, letting out a broken scream as you threw the book across the room, and then a rush of sadness waved into you, your knees gave out on you, collapsing in the floor, sobbing heavily into your hands as you tried to grasp everything around your head.

How could she do this to you?

She exposed your whole life just like that, like you were nothing but a mere inspiration to get money and fame. And she had the balls to send you a personal copy, like she was making fun of you in the process.

After you got out every emotion from your system you got up and went to wash your face and change into your sleeping clothes. You went to bed, but not before taking some sleeping pills, you knew there was no other way you could rest if it wasn’t with them, as much as you hated them.

“Hey there, doll”

You heard a familiar voice behind you, and without even turning around you chuckled, still a little dizzy from the drinks you’ve taken “hi Aggie”

The brunette girl sat by your side at the stairs, comfortable silence grew between the two of you, the only sound coming from inside of the house, the frat party in it’s peak. You both contemplated the starts on the dark sky for a while, until you broke the silence “it’s beautiful tonight” you whispered without taking your eyes off the atmosphere.

“It is” Agatha agreed with you, but she had her eyes on your side profile, admiring your soft features, how your lips curled into a smile and your eyes glowed before you turned your head to her “come with me” she said standing up from the stairs, her hands reaching for you to take.

“Where to?”

“Don’t you trust me?” She winked at you, causing you to giggle and grab her hand, of course you trusted her, always.

She guided you through the backyard into a forest you didn’t even know there was “Aggs, where are we going?” You asked her nervously, you weren’t a big fan of being in a forest in the middle of the night, so you glued yourself to the slightly taller girl, your arm grabbing hers a little too tight, but she didn’t mind at all.

“It’s ok, we’re not far” she hummed as she kissed your temple and held you close to her in a protective way.

Not even a minute after you arrived into a large plain land, only a big tree in the middle “wow” you looked around, it looked gorgeous, seeing different types of flowers around the area “how did you find this?”

“I come here for my witchery rituals”

You scoffed and turned to her, finding her with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow “yeah, great joke” you rolled your eyes at her.

“You know I like to take walks, one day I kind of got lost and ended here somehow” Agatha chuckled at the memory, taking your hand in hers again and guiding you to the big tree.

She sat under it, tapping her lap you sat down next to her and laid you head on her lap. You sighed and closed your eyes as she began to stroke your hair, you always felt at peace when she was around. Everyone said she was mean and too sarcastic but you never thought that was true, she wasn’t like that with you at least. And you liked her sarcasm. 

“Can I ask you something, pet?” Agatha asked you interrupting your thoughts, you looked up at her and nodded, waiting for her to continue “What will happen to us after finishing college?”

Not this again… you sighed and sat up from her lap, not noticing the pained features from your… friend as you did so “Agatha we talked about this”

“I know but… this is real, what we have, what I feel for you it’s very real” she felt like she was begging for you, and she fucking hated that, she has never, ever, had to beg for anyone.

“Agatha…” you huffed and stood up from the grass, your hands rubbing your face in frustration “since the beginning I told you this was only a fling ok? And you agreed. If my-“ you winced at the thought “if my parents find out… it would be the end of me, they expect me to get married to the perfect man-“

“Steve” it was Agatha’s turn to huff in frustration, the name leaving her lips in a despite tone. She stood up and turned you around, her hands resting on your cheeks “you really think he’s gonna make you happy?”

You didn’t answer her right away, both of you knowing too well what the truth was “that doesn’t matter” you whispered and took her hands off your face.

“It does! It does matter” she grabbed your face again in determination, her forehead resting against yours “the only thing that matters is you here, not them, not whatever they want for you, only what you want”

You looked into her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay from your own, your breath hitching as you felt hers lips ghost over yours “Aggie…” your voice sounded pained, but before you could say anything else she smashed her lips against yours.

The kiss was harsh at first, Agatha took all her frustration into it, her tongue intruding you mouth, making you moan in surprise at her demeanor. One of her hands snook itself on your waist, pulling your body flush against her. Your hands caressing the back of her neck made her pull away “I’m sorry” she whispered before kissing you again, softer this time.

She knew this was probably going to be the last time she had you like this, and she wanted to savor it, she wanted to make you never forget about it, about her.

Because she was never going to forget about you.

Your tongues swirled together, her hand on your waist gripping you tightly, afraid you were going to pull away at any time, she could feel your tears damping her cheeks, your hearts heavily beating against your ribcages.

And when you pulled away to breath you saw the pain in Agatha’s gaze. You took a step back, putting some distance between you, knowing you would fall for it if she tried to kiss you again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not-“

“You are not what, huh?”

The blue eyed girl looked at you, her expression changing completely, clenching her jaw as she started at you in challenge.

“I’m not like this… I’m not like you”

“Bullshit! You’re only lying to yourself here”

You shook your head, more tears running down your cheeks “please don’t do this” you let out a broken sob.

“Don’t do what!? Are you kidding me? After being your fucking little secret for two years you have the balls to tell me you’re not like me? What the fuck am I, huh?” You could hear the hurt in her voice, the betrayal, and it only made you sob harder into your hands, this was the last thing you wanted to happen “I hate you”

You woke up with a gasp, immediately sitting up on the bed, your hands going to your heavily beating chest. You tried to ease your breath, wiping a tear that escaped from your eye “it’s alright, it was just a dream” you said to yourself, taking deep breaths as you walked to the bathroom. But it was not just a dream. It was exactly what happened the last time you spoke to Agatha.

You got into the shower, the warm water calming you down instantly. Replaying the scene in your head you slid yourself down the shower wall, hiding your head between your knees. You did her so dirty, you betrayed her, you played with her. You really didn’t mean to, you were a young girl, you wanted to have fun, to feel free before being tied down into the life you were living now.

But you fell deeply for her.

And you didn’t think of the consequences, you were selfish. And god… you were like her, you are and you will always be. You’ve never liked boys, every time Steve touched you it was like fire, you wanted to get away from it as far as possible. His kisses… it were nothing like Agatha’s, her lips here so soft, she tasted so sweet, and her touch, she was so careful with you, so fucking soft, and Steve… he was so rough, so cold doing it, and his beard, the way it scratched your face, you fucking hated it.

“Fuck” you sobbed heavily, your arms hugging your legs to your chest. You fucked up, and only because you wanted to make your parents proud of you, they had your life planned since you were a baby, and you didn’t want to let them down.

But you let yourself down in the process.

You lost yourself.

Maybe you could get your happiness back. You were so tired of living this miserable life, next to a man you didn’t love, in this house you barely could call home, you felt so out of place. But it wasn’t late to redo your story. To make things right, for you.

You could start by talking with Steve, asking for a divorce. And… talk to Agatha, apologize to her.

And you did that, you talked to Steve that very night he arrived home from his trip. It wasn’t easy, and you didn’t tell him the Agatha part of course. You knew he suspected something, but he understood without asking too much and you ended things peacefully.

The next day you saw Agatha was having a book signing event, so you decided to pay her a visit.

You decided to wear something casual but elegant, unconsciously wanting to impress the woman. You threw on some black pants and a purple knit sweater off the shoulder, finishing it with a basic black heels. Looking at the mirror you took a deep breath and straightened your top “ok, you got this” 

As you entered the bookstore the anxiety increased inside of you, clutching the book to your chest for some support. You walked around the place searching for her, and then you saw her, stopping on your tracks, your heart skipping a beat as you watched her seated at a table, signing a book while she talked to the overly excited woman before her.

Fuck, she looked even better than on the tv, she looked fucking gorgeous, her brunette hair in it’s wavy and chaotic nature. Your fingers flinched around the book, remembering how soft it felt around them, how she loved when you caressed it while you both laid on the bed, studying or talking about some random thing.

Jesus, focus.

You didn’t even know if she was still single, probably not, and it was ok. You only came here to talk to her and apologize… right?

After 10 minutes of waiting in line it was finally your turn, feeling your heart in your throat you took a step toward her, laying the book in front of her with your shaky hands, her eyes busy reading a paper next to her “do you want some personal-“ she froze mid sentence, shocked when she saw the autograph in your book.

She slowly looked up at you, and when your eyes met it was like the world stopped in the act, only the two of you existed. Agatha stood up from the chair, rounding the table while she never took her eyes off you. When she stood before you her hand tried to reach your cheek but she hesitantly retreated it to her side “is it really you?” She asked you, her eyes scanning your face for reassurance.

“In flesh and blood”

Agatha suddenly grabbed your hand, she whispered something to a woman next to the table before she guided you somewhere to the back of the bookstore. When she pulled you into a room she locked it before she turned to you “I never thought I’d see you again” she said in disbelief, taking a step towards you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second, needing to feel her against you after all this time, your arms wrapped around her “I’m so sorry Agatha” you whispered against her shoulder.

Agatha immediately accepted your hug, sighing into your hair as she squeezed your frame softly. You felt so good, you still smelt so sweetly, so addicting. She relaxed into your arms, feeling your hands rubbing her spine.

She missed you so much.

But… you hurt her. She pulled away, her eyebrows curling into frown “what are you doing here?” Her voice cold all of the sudden, like she was shielding herself from you.

“Agatha…” you tried to get closer again but she took a step back, her features turning in a warning “I came here to apologize. I read your book and… even though it really hurt me I realized how bad I hurt you too in the past” You never left her eyes, trying to tell her with your own you were being sincere “I’m sorry…”

The woman stared at you for a minute, studying you, before she briefly nodded “it’s ok, I apologize too for the things I said in the book”

“You treated me like a villain”

“Well you treated me like trash, so I think we’re even”

You pursed your lips, nodding your head as you started to pace around the room, only realizing it was an office “I know, I was a fool, a stupid girl who only wanted the approbation of my parents. I only wanted wanted to make their dreams come true, not even realizing my dream was… you” the last word escaped your lips in a whisper, the shock of your own confession rooting you on the spot.

Agatha’s mouth fell agape, sucking in a sharp breath, the last thing she expected today was this. To finally see and hear you opening your heart to her, and to yourself.

You turned around to her, seeing her hands clutch her chest, her soft lips slowly curling into a small smile “I know you didn’t expect me to come here, and tell you this, but I needed to, and I wanted to tell you that I’m getting my life back. I’m going to take the reins of my life and be true to myself. And I know that you probably are not interested in me anymore, or still hate me, and I won’t judge you. Maybe you’re in a relationship and I don’t want to confuse y- mphh!”

Agatha, tired of hearing your rambling, grabbed you by the waist and smashed her lips against yours. Just like the last time you kissed, but this time she knew this was the first of many.

Your hands flew to her shoulders to steady yourself, shocked for a moment. But when Agatha’s tongue stroked your lips for entrance you let her, humming into her mouth as your hands travelled to her cheeks.

“Fuck, I missed you, pet” she whispered against your lips, making you smile at the pet name before kissing her again. Her soft lips danced against yours while she slowly backed you up against the office desk, her hands sneaking into your sweater, goosebumps erupting your skin as she stroked your bare back.

Then suddenly a knock startled you both, making her pull away from you “Miss. Harkness, the five minute break is up”

Agatha groaned in frustration, and you hid your laugh behind your hand “wait outside for me, ok? I’ll go in a minute” she sighed before kissing your cheek.

“But what about all that people?” You asked her. Referring to all the fans waiting for her to sign their books.

“Whatever, I’m tired to signing books that will be resold in some random web for way too much money” Agatha said with disdain, rolling her eyes and waving her hands dramatically.

You watched her leave the room after sending you a wink, still chuckling at her antics.

Oh, how you’ve missed her.

Without bringing too much attention, you left the book shop and waited the woman on the parking lot, leaning against your car and hugging your arms tightly at the chilly air.

After a few minutes you saw her walk towards you, her arms opening for you, making you smile and instantly falling into her welcoming embrace. You stayed like that for a while, your face hiding into her neck as you took in her scent, her fresh, floral scent that always made you dizzy.

“So… no more Steve?” Agatha asked you, pushing you away softly as she tuck your hair behind your ear, taking in your features.

“No more Steve” you said to her, chuckling.

Agatha sighed in relief. She asked you to go to her place with her, and you of course accepted.

As soon as you arrived to her house, Agatha was all over you, pulling you against her frame, her kisses becoming needy as she guided you down the hallway to the stairs.

“Agatha, we should talk” you told her, your breath trying to ease while she trailed her kisses down your jaw.

“I know” her voice hushed between kisses you almost didn’t hear her.

“Then stop” you let out a giggle, trying not to trip over the stairs as she guided you up.

When you arrived to the second floor the woman pushed you back against the corridor wall softly, her nose rubbing against yours as she looked into your eyes “do you really want me to?” She hummed, leaving little pecks all around your face.

No, you really didn’t. It’s been so long since you felt this way, twelve years to be exact, the way she ran her hands all over your body even with the barrier of your clothes, the way she kissed you so sweetly, so desperate.

“No” you whispered to her, pulling her into another kiss. You could talk later, anyway.

Agatha chuckled against your lips, pulling you into her bedroom. She kicked the door with her foot and dragged you towards the bed, her hands pushing the sweater over your chest, you helped her take it off, giggling as she took in your barely covered chest, her fingers caressing the lace fabric of your bra.

Your hands worked on unbuttoning her shirt as Agatha continued to explore your skin with her fingertips, an when they reached your waist she suddenly shoved you on the mattress, earning a surprised yelp from you “you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of this very moment”

Agatha discarded her shirt while her eyes burned into yours “countless nights with so many women, and only being able to think about you, trying to imagine they were you”

You breath hitched at her words, the thought of her with other women, but with you in her mind made your insides burn in desire “they were never like you, no one can compare to you”

“Aggie” you whined her name needy, watching as she crawled on the bed after she took off her pants, a smirk in her lips as she ghosted them over your skin on your stomach and chest. 

“Tell me…” she hummed softly, her hands working on pulling you out of your pants “did Steve make you come like I did?” Her eyebrow raised at you, seeing how you only shook your head “you know I like words, pet”

“No” you huffed at her, feeling her hand travel to your back, unclasping your bra with too much ease “he never-“ a gasp interrupted you, Agatha’s mouth closing around your nipple. 

“He never what? Mh?” She fucking knew what she was doing, her knee pressing up against your center, making you go mad under her touch, torturing you. 

She watched you struggle to let any word out, breathing heavily while she toyed with your breasts, nipping and sucking one and pinching the other. She could feel the wet spot on your panties against her knee, your hips rolling on it trying to get some friction, loving how desperate you were for her already.

“Come on… you can say it, beautiful” she said pouting her lips at you, almost as if she was mocking you, and she was. It made you huff at her, a scoff appearing on your features “oh no, none that” she grabbed your jaw, her tone in a warning “behave, alright?”

You nodded making the woman hum in satisfaction “he never has made me come” you whispered out the words, redness creeping up your neck and cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the fact that, in ten years, only you’ve been able to satisfy yourself.

“Aw, my poor thing” Agatha kissed your cheek, she actually felt bad for you. She couldn’t imagine to be stuck with a man for ten years, having to satisfy him almost every night. But she was going to make it up for you “must have been pretty frustrating, mh?”

“Yes” you whined as she started nipping at your neck, your hand going into her wavy hair, your hips rolling into hers unconsciously “Aggie?” You called for her, causing the woman to look at you, pecking your lips in a soft way.

“What do you want, pet?” She already knew, of course she knew, but she wanted to hear you say it, she needed to hear it from you.

“Touch me, please” your eyes stared into her blue ones “make me feel good” she smiled at you, letting out a chuckle before she kissed you.

Her tongue explored your mouth while she helped you taking off your lace panties, leaving you completely bare before her. You immediately wrapped your leg round her hip, feeling her fingers dancing down your belly painfully slow. When she reached your mound, slipping her index finger in your clit you both moaned. 

She trailed her lips down your chest, her fingers rubbing your wetness all over your lips and clit “you’re soaking wet, and I barely touched you” she breathed out, leaving kisses and bites all over your figure. Your back arched to wards her, only being able to let out low moans as she kept playing with your clit, you hips moving against her hand “stay still” she kissed your hip, her free hand pushing them down as she made herself comfortable between your legs.

Fuck. The sight of her kissing your thighs, her eyes never leaving yours, it made you clench around nothing. Just realizing how much you have really missed having her like this, making you heavenly desperate for her. Not being able to think properly, only with her clouding your mind.

And when you felt her tongue lick between your lips back to your clit you whole mind and body crumbled. Your head snapping back into the pillow as you let out a loud gasp, hearing Agatha moan into you “fuck, I missed how good you tasted, doll”

She became feral in that moment, eating you up like a mad woman, sucking and nipping at your clit. Loving every sound she pulled from you, how your hands clutched her sheets tightly, trying not to move your hips, obeying to her. 

Her name came from your lips in a cry, two fingers pushing inside of you without a warning. She chuckled against your clit at your state, making your body shiver from the vibrations. 

You looked so cute, your mouth parted as you tried to control your breathing, eyes closed shut and eyebrows turned into a little frown. Your hand interlocked into her hair, pulling her closer into you, she would have slapped it away in any other situation. But you looked so fucked out already, she let it be, absolutely loving how tight you were clenching around her.

Her fingers in a slow pace, making you whine “if you want anything, you just have to ask for it” she hummed, leaving a kiss over your mound. 

“P-please-“ you let out a broken gasp, her teeth biting at your clit “f-fuck, harder, please” you managed you breathe out, damning the woman for making you feel this way. 

“Good girl” she hummed proudly, her fingers pumping harder into you, hearing your loud moans as she curled them. Her tongue licking patterns on your clit, a six letter word, Agatha, marking you as hers with the action. 

You left the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hips giving out on you and riding against the woman “fuck, I’m so close Aggie” you whined out, your legs starting to tremble around her. 

When you felt her pace fasten, her sucking your clit it drove you to the edge, your orgasm exploding in powerful waves, your body stiffen against her, letting out her name in a broken moan. Agatha guided you through your high, her fingers continuing their slow pace, her lips kissing all over your thigh as she praised you “did so good for me”, “that’s it, good girl” 

You weakly pulled her hand away when it became too much, hissing at the loss of contact. She kissed her way up your body, stopping face to face, admiring your flushed state, your breath trying to ease as you opened your eyes slowly to look at her, a faint smile appearing in your lips “hi” you giggled softly.

“Hello beautiful” she chuckled with you, kissing all over your face. You hummed before pulling her into a kiss, moaning when you tasted yourself on her tongue.

She laid by your side, pulling you close to her while she kept kissing you. You interlocked your leg with hers, pulling away from her to breathe. And the two of you stayed like that, your thumb stroking her cheek while her fingers draw the same six letter pattern of before on your waist.

“you’re not running away again, right?”

You could hear the fear in her voice, and it made your heart ache “I won’t, I promise I’m not going anywhere”

Agatha believed you, a smile curling in her lips as she pulled you incredibly close to her, her head sneaking in your neck “good, because I don’t want to write a whole other book about it to make you come back” she mumbled playfully into your skin, feeling your shoulders shake against her as you laughed.

And she laughed with you, both of you feeling like those twenty year old girls in college again.

Two idiots in love with each other.

[rintoshis-archived]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 '𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 - ft. hobie brown / spiderpunk

🎸、 . *. ⋆ warnings; mentions of blood, profanities, 'breakup', makeup sex-ish, slight angst, vaginal penetration, no p in v, biting, mentions of piercings (hobie), poor attempt at British slang, parents in house, lmk if there's more! ✧. word count: 935

The rapid knocking on your window didn't falter even from the stormy weather that the sky was going through. The clock strikes 1:34 am, the light shining on the figure that was trying to get in by your window.

''Let me in... I know 'ya see me...'' The shadow had spikes on top of its head, and a guitar strapped on its back. The voice echoes from your window, only urging you to open the door. The raspiness and toned sound gave you an idea of who it was.

''Holy fuck, Hobie what the hell-'' His body fell on your carpet, limp and covered with bruises and cuts. His suit was busted, the fabric was ripping at the arms and the seams were threatening to open.

''What happened? Speak to me, Hobie.'' You quickly scooped his upper body to lean against your bed frame. You run towards your bathroom to grab a cloth and wet it with warm tap water. Your hands rummage through the cabinets, finding the band-aids and Betadine.

You approach Hobie's wet body on your rug, clearly swinging around the city while it was thundering. Someone didn't check the weather forecast... But you set that thought aside and wiped off the blood pooling on his cheek.

''I'm fine, babe.'' ''Don't call me that.'' Your words only seemed to puncture Hobie's ego rather than his body. ''Why not? Doncha love it?'' Your hands were a lot denser on his skin before he used the corny nickname on you. You and Hobie weren't so 'peachy' after that incident in one of his shows.

''Loosen' up, doll.'' Hobie's hand rests on your cheek, pushing away the stray hair strand from your face. Your hands swat his away and occupied themselves in getting the bandaids and the Betadine. ''Just cause I'm taking care of you now, doesn't solve our relationship, Brown.''

Your sudden call of his last name shot a bullet through his heart. He knew you were tough to crack, but if he had to go on his knees for you to forgive him he gladly would.

''Brown? What happened to 'Bee' or 'Love'-'' ''It died, Hobie.'' You put the last bandaid on his cheek, your face inching closer to his. His breath fanning on your nose and his eyes only piercing through yours.

''You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't love me.'' His words made your hands pinch his ear, a small frown appearing on your face. ''I'm only doing this because we're...'' Your words only faded away from the sudden thought of what you and Hobie were.

You didn't like labels yourself. But Hobie was the only one who could actually play your heart and make a tune. As corny as it sounds, Hobie didn't help the banging of your heart in your ribcage.

His eyes were looking directly at yours, winking at your cute frown. ''Friends?'' You pinched his ear again and rose up from his side. ''Bastard.'' Your words lightened his mood, but the spark remains.

Hobie stands up from your floor and follows your figure in the bathroom. His hand trails across your waist, your two reflections being seen in front of the mirror. Your hands grip the ceramic, letting Hobie corner you between the sink.

''If you didn't love me... You wouldn't let me do this, wouldn't 'ya?'' Hobie's hands slide under your pajamas, his hands pawing at your panties. ''Hobie...'' His free hand makes your way to yours, caging your hand in his.

''Mm, yeah? 'Ya know my name. Say it.'' His fingers set your panties aside, collecting your essence from your slit. A small moan comes out of your mouth. Your hand covers your mouth from spilling any more sound.

'''Bee, parents-' Hobie knew that your parents were in your home. In fact, a part of you thinks he came here for that sole purpose. ''I know, I know. Keep quiet for me, yeah? You can do that for me, can't you?'' You bite your palm once Hobie enters his fingers inside of your cunt, your juices pooling at your panties.

Your moans are muffled by your hand, his thumb toying with your clit. ''You like that, don't 'cha?'' His words enter your right ear, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. His cold rings hit your hot skin, and the sudden temperature change gave you goosebumps.

Even due to how odd it sounds, Hobie knew how to toy with your body just right. The way his fingers curl and crook inside of you, the pace of shapes circling on your sensitive clit, him pinching your nipples. He had known your anatomy more than you thought he did.

''Mm, right there?'' He was teasing you, the way your body shook under his touch only proved the impact he had on you. You could only moan for a response, your eyes closed at the knot tightening in your stomach.

Your hands let go of the cold ceramic of the sink, holding Hobie's hands through the fabric of your pajamas. ''Close? I can feel you. Fuck, so tight. Squeezing my fingers.'' Hobie kisses your neck, the cold metal of his piercings only made his sloppy kisses more pleasurable.

He bites the skin of your shoulders, ''Wanna keep me inside of you forever?'' You could only nod your head frantically, your legs close shakily. ''Cum for me.'' His words led you to your orgasm, your sweaty bodies sticking to each other from the heat of the moment.

''You know you love me.'' He grabs your chin and kisses your swollen lips.

the thoughts in my head with hobie only spiraled to this mess. i hope you guys enjoy this either way:) ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

[gassydumbjocks]

Do it like a Macho

Joel finished putting on his favorite shirt to go out, and checked his chat again, he could hardly believe that he had agreed to go out with that guy his best friend had told him about, he had broken up with his ex months ago, and didn't seem to feel ready to take on another relationship, but, well, a date was better than staying depressed on his couch all afternoon eating junk food watching rom-coms.

He finished by adding his perfume, checking himself once again in the mirror, and sighing "Please dont be a jerk this time" he wished for his next date, when the bell ring got him out of trance.

He ran when he heard the doorbell, and to his great surprise, a tall boy, with a some-what tanned skin, clearly showing latino roots, beefy complexion, large muscles, showed out of his door. There was only one detail, the hunk boy was shirtless, only wearing some gym shorts, and if that wasnt enough, a slight stench was present almost immediately, making obvious it came from the big jock, Joel wrinkled his nose a little trying to be discreet.

"Ehh.. Hello, can I help you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, the jock frowned. "Are you Joel?" He limited himself to ask.

"Yes, uh, are you the boy with whom I had a dat..." his words were interrupted as the animal of a man simply proceed and grabbed him by his head, within a second, he had his head to remain below in one of his armpits, receiving directly that aroma he lingered before, making him cough on the manly scent.

"Shut up! Faggot!" Saul said with an expression of disgust, without any effort he grabbed Joel's shirt collar while he tried to gasp for some air "I don't go to dates with sissys like you! I only hang out with my bros" he told him furiously. "This should put some hair on that chest of yours" Not having time to react quickly, the stinky hunk let out a deep, nasty burp right in his face.

BOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPP!!!

"Now lets start... Real men don't cook, that's for the ladies" the jock said as he blew the remains of his burp towards the poor, scrawny nerd.

As Joel forcibly inhaled Saul's putrid smoke, his brain began to be penetrated by the stench, new memories being created that would replace everything that made Joel him, memories of his mother teaching him how to cook and take care of himself, became in memories of his mother cooking for him, his father and brothers.

"Ugh, God... That's disgusting" Joel swallowed the burp while trying not to vomit while gagging.

"Come on man, you have to get out the machismo inside you... Real men don't clean, we are made to be crude, and ought to be grotty" Saul raised a leg and squinted an eye, before grunting.

PPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!

After letting out a loud fart that rumbled through his shorts, with a quick maneuver Saul brought Joel closer to his butt, being greeted by the toxic smell emanating from it, Joel swore it would be enough to knock out an elephant, coughing violently.

Again, his mind felt blurred, his thoughts changing with more memories again, since he was a child, the nerdy boy had always been a clean freak, tidying his room and cooperating with his sisters to clean the whole house. now, for some reason he could only remember him and his brothers watching soccer games in their undies, dirty plates of food filling the kitchen sink, dirty clothes scattered throughout the all the house, the toilet bowl up and dirty.

"What's going on?" Joel said, now more dizzy and confused than ever, his nausea preventing him from reasoning clearly and making a superhuman effort not to smell that foul bomb.

"You're becoming a man, that's happening, you better brace your pathetic self, this is a damn combo" Saul warned, then his stomach growled fiercely, while a smirk appeared in his mouth.

"NO!" Joel pleaded, but it was too late, as his please were overshadowed by Saul bending down to be at his height, only to blurt out in his face "MAAAAN UUUUUUUPPP-UUURRRRRRP!!!!" He belched his words out, while forcing the weak gay boy to sniff the nauseating blast.

By that point Joel had already fallen to the ground, crying and suffocating, pleading that this was some kind of nightmare, Saul rolled his eyes and growled "What a fuckin baby, it's just a little man gas, what are you?! Uh? You're a guy, you should be proud... Real men always let the gas rip" he said. , before bending over again, putting his big ass in those smelly shorts scented with all those gases dangerously close to his face, to let one last fart finish his job, poor Joel just having a final view of the ass getting closer "NOOOOOO!!..."

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!!!

...

"And he is right..." was the first thought that Joel had after the abrupt attack in that gas chamber "Men always let it rip... A Man loves to let it rip, its just a dude thing we have to assert our dominance" was what came out then of his lips, before Saul heard and turned to see him, and a huge smile of satisfaction formed on his face.

"Fuck yeah man, nothing like dropping a fat one with your bros for a good laugh, right? We guys should always think farts are funny, they're manly" he remarked.

And as if it was a cue, a growl in Joel's stomach began to growl and make him uncomfortable, he simply patted himself and raised his leg.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!

"ahh, that felt good" he sighed and letted a dumb chuckle "i have to quit that chipotle next time" he said with a grin, and Saul hit his shoulder playfully.

"haha that's nothing bro, the burping contest we had on our boys' night was brutal, man, you can even belch out the alphabet like a maestro, eh? Show off those roars" Saul added with a huge smile.

"AHHH.. BEHHH... CEEHH.. DEEEHHH" His mind was blank now, a simple order like that was enough to control him and make the burps start to come out of him, even when he didn't feel the need to burp, he just wanted to show off with his bro... It is what real men do.

"That felt good" He said, with a stupid grin forming in his lips too.

"As it should be! You gotta take pride in your machismo, huh? Machote" He said before slapping hiss ass, causing a small but putrid fart to come out of his now plump ass, making both of them laugh. "damn yeah, bro, its fuckin great to be a man" Joel said and Saul nodded proudly.

With that putrid gas, Joel sealed his new persona, letting his old gay and scrawny being fly away in the form of that smelly fart, to become a dumber, grosser, sexist, loud, and obnoxious version of him, a real man, and a real macho.

Seconds later he got a text from his best friend, or his best bro, and read it "Broo, hurry up and bring your fuckin ass here, we gotta have a boys night and watch the game, bring the beer, haven't Saul picked you up yet?"

He smirked and responded "On our way brodah, don't nuke your room too soon, I want to breath some fresh air for the match" He joked and chuckled dumbly, as he squinted one eye and simply lifted his leg to rip a fat deep one before going out his place, fist bumping with Saul.

[annwrites]

⸻ a call to arms. part five.

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you & jace hide yourselves away in a familiar alcove after a morning tiff. · word count: 3,286

When you wake the next morn, you feel in at least slightly better spirits.

You’d, after your 'incident' with Jace, sent the coin he’d given you to your family in King’s Landing, writing for them to send notice to you as soon as possible, informing you that they've received it.

Once you’ve broken your fast and dressed, you emerge from your chambers, wanting for an early-morning walk along the beach…only to be greeted by an unfamiliar guard outside your door.

“Where…where is Ser Myles?”

He bows his head to you. “I believe he has been reassigned, My Lady.”

You blink up at the strange man before you, anger quickly flooding your every sense.

You head directly for Jacaerys’ room.

Jace is interrupted from breaking his fast by a loud pounding on his door.

He panics, immediately worried that, mayhaps, it is Baela. 

What if she knows of last night—what nearly occurred between the two of you? What if she has come to call off their betrothal? Gods, what in Seven fucking Hells had he been thinking? What has he been since your first meeting but a couple of nights ago?

When you’re near, he finds himself unable to think straight. You cloud his judgements. Rather, force him to think with only one part of himself—and it is most certainly not with what sits between his ears, but rather his legs.

He stands, walking toward the door—lightly jumping when the pounding begins again. He wrenches it open—ready to loose his sharp tongue on whomever has forgotten their manners so early in the morn, only to be immediately cut off by you barging into his chambers.

“Where is he?” You ask acidically, swiftly swinging round to him, your loose silver hair falling over your shoulders. 

His mouth tugs into a frown.

The pleasant girl from last night has clearly fled him once again, instead replaced by one filled with fire.

“You’ll need be more specific, I’m afraid,” he replies cooly.

You take a step closer, your hands balled into tight fists at your sides, your nostrils flared. “Ser Myles, my guard. Where is he?”

He grits his teeth. “He has been reassigned.”

“To whom?” You spit.

“Not to whom, but to where,” he states flatly.

You seethe. “You sent him away.”

“I did. He was no longer suited to his role here as your protector.”

“Because he dared touch me, as if I did not do it back?” You ask with a raised brow and a hammering heart.

He takes a small step toward you, and then another. “You barely knew him. Why does it matter?”

His brow twitches in irritation. “Unless it was more than just a few ‘innocent’ touches which were shared. Mayhaps...”

He grins then, chuckling darkly, shaking his head.

“What?” You bark with vehemence. 

He steps closer, followed by another step and another, while you back up, glancing behind you, the wall on the right side of the room growing ever-closer.

“It is just your nature, isn’t it? I should’ve known as much the night last when you encouraged me to…to dishonor my betrothed.”

Your jaw falls slightly open. 

“You can’t help yourself. A wanton woman who can think only with that which is between her le—”

You slap him.

Slowly, he turns back in your direction, watching silently as tears slip down your cheeks and your chin wobbles.

“I am not the only one to blame,” you say between sobs.

His face falls slightly at the state of you. Of his own causing, no less.

“He was my friend. He was like me: lowborn. I’d found someone to talk to, and you took him away from me. Leaving me left with only the likes of you. If you wish for someone to blame for what we did, you should first take a look in the mirror, and remember whom it was who summoned whom to sup with them.”

He remains silent, only breathing steadily as he continues to stare at you.

“Jealousy and pride is no excuse to treat people as you do: disposable, lesser than, inconsequential.”

You step closer, jutting your chin upward as you stare into his brown eyes. “We are many. It is all of you who is few. You should remember that for when you are one day king, and inevitably go a step too far.”

You turn, heading for the door, slamming it behind you.

You find a quiet spot on the beach where you turn your back to your new guard and cry. 

You refuse to even speak to him. Not because you do not wish to, but because you are afraid of what may happen to him if you try.

No place is safe here.

You are filled with immeasurable guilt. For Myles—losing his position here is all your fault. Had the two of you never met, he would still be in his position. And for Baela. 

You could see it yesterday when she looked at the two of you, could hear it in her tone—the worry that Jacaerys looks upon you in a way he should not. 

She deserves better than someone like him, you’re sure. Then again, she, too, is highborn. Most like, she sees you just as he does.

As they all do.

You hate it here.

You don’t bother coming in, even when you begin to shiver from being cold. You merely sit and stare at the endless expanse of sea that lies before you.

You know your guard must be growing tired, but when you had tried telling him that if he would like to go inside he may, he’d merely told you his post was protecting you.

So you drift away in your thoughts, returning to your small abode in King's Landing, pretending you are sat upon a rocking chair, your little girl in your lap as she snacks on pastries you've made for her as you tell her stories.

Mayhaps you should instead steal away on Silverwing, as opposed to remaining here. Offer yourself to the Greens. At least that way, you will be closer to home.

You cannot support a family such as this. Neither of them deserve that which they fight for.

You wrap your arms round yourself, debating.

Jacaerys had given you a bit of time after your morning tiff in hopes that you would cool down.

He, himself, has felt in a daze in the hours since—your heated words going round and round within his mind.

And the heartbroken look he had instilled upon your face... His own had deserved to sting in return when you repaid him for his offensive accusations.

And now he treads the beach in search of you.

He is unsure what he means to do when he finds you.

More lessons in High Valyrian? Gods know you need further tutoring.

Another flying lesson upon Silverwing? He is sure you do not wish to be so close to him again.

Not today, at the very least.

Just as he begins to consider turning round and going back inside, he spots you sitting atop a small boulder, your guard at your back as you stare at the sea that lies before you with a solemn, blank expression.

You look...pale. And you shiver from the cold.

Now he has driven you even from feeling welcome in the castle where you should instead be, finding warmth.

Not that he's sure you ever did feel welcome to begin with.

All his fault...

When he meets your guard's eyes, he motions for him to return to the castle, and the man bows his head in return before turning round to leave.

You do not even notice his sudden absence.

Nor do you notice as Jacaerys stalks ever-closer.

Not until he is draping a warm cloak round your shoulders do you realize his presence.

Your head shoots up, and you quickly scowl, promptly standing.

You throw off his metaphorical olive branch, quickly marching in the other direction.

"Stop," he calls to you, retrieving his cloak, jogging to catch up to you.

You keep your mouth clamped firmly shut, refusing to speak to him.

"Please stop. I only wish to—"

You skip ahead a few steps, nearly tripping over your skirts you're so eager to create distance between you and he.

He lets out a low curse, spots an opportunity off to the side, then swiftly reaches forward, taking your hand in an iron-tight grip as he pulls you alongside him into a familiar alcove.

"Let go of me!" You shout, trying desperately to yank yourself free of him.

He holds firm, refusing to let you escape him as he hides the two of you away round a corner.

He pushes you back against a stone wall, desperate to make you listen, until you slap his face again, tears running down your own.

"I hate you! I cannot stand the sight of you! Being near you is unbearable! You royal arse!"

You begin pounding tiny fists against his chest, trying to push him away, until he has reached his limit, and he pins your arms to the wall behind you, just the same as before.

"I'm sorry!" He shouts.

You quiet then, staring up at him with vehemence.

"For all of it. My beastly behavior since we met. It has been..." He shakes his head. "Un-princely of me. I just..."

He cannot say it—that he both envies your looks, while they are also simultaneously the reason he lusts after you. And that you have figured him out with ease time and again. His insecurities over someone like you claiming a dragon, which he had thought made him special to have. And someone like you somehow being more worldly than he—a royal prince.

You know more than him, and it had stoked his ire time and again with how...mature you seem. Making him feel a child in return.

But that same maturity... Gods, how he longs to see you exemplify it again and again.

"You just what?" You spit, pushing back against him, though it does you little good.

There is a brief silence which hangs between you, until he comes closer, the familiar feel of his erection becoming present as he presses it to your abdomen.

"I want you."

You roll your eyes. "As I am well-aware. The feeling is not returned, I assure you. Now, let me—"

"Gods, you're fucking impossible, aren't you?"

"Me?! You've no idea what you want. Me, or Baela, or—"

He crushes his lips to yours while you squeal and squirm against him. And then you clamp down on his lower lip, drawing blood.

He wrenches himself away, but still holds firm to you.

"You just...you just bit me!" He cries in shock.

"Try that again and I'll do it again," you seethe.

He sneers, squeezing your wrists impossibly tighter.

"Fine. Then I shall..." He pauses.

Is he truly about to do this?

He glances to the side—the direction of where the alcove's entrance lies—then back to you.

He releases you, kneeling.

"What're you—"

"Teach me," he says, blinking up at you.

And you stare down at him, taken aback, quickly cooling.

"Teach..."

He reaches beneath your skirts, sliding a warm hand up your calf.

"Teach me how to please you. Allow me to show you how truly sorry I am in this...other way," he says with a slight smirk.

"I have taught you much these last few days. It is time, mayhaps, you return the favor."

He slides his hand higher. "It will, after all, be for your own benefit, at least."

He presses a soft kiss to your stomach, over your dress. "Allow me to please you."

You swallow nervously. "Jace..."

His face slowly falls and he glances away, softly shaking his head. "Foolish," he whispers. "Forgive me—"

You shakes your head, not wishing to humiliate him. Not when it comes to this. Even if he mayhaps deserves to be hurt in return for how he did the same just this morn.

"No, it's just... How am I to trust that I...consent, and you do not, once again, throw it back in my face, just as you did with what occurred between us last night?"

He slides his hand up the back of your thigh. "You have me on my knees. Begging you to allow me to pleasure you. You need more reassurance that you have me at your mercy now?"

Your lip twitches. Oh, Gods, this is so very strange.

"What do you... I mean, there are many things..." You stumble over your words, searching for that which you mean to ask.

His eyes trail down your body before settling on that which is directly before him—hidden beneath skirts of his own selection.

"I would use my mouth, Y/N, if it please you."

"What of...Baela? Or... If this is your first experience, are you sure you—"

"I know what I want. And I know that it is you. Here. Now. Will you not allow me this most singular indulgence?"

Your heart pounds between your breasts and all sensations of cold have fled your body, instead replaced by a blooming warmth spreading across your electrified skin.

Finally, you nod.

And he smiles.

He reaches to the hem of your skirt, pushing it upwards, and you take it from him, holding it above your waist as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your smallclothes, easing them down your thighs until they're pooled round your shoes.

You step out of them and he tucks them into his pocket before taking your bare hips in either of his hands, staring at your glistening cunt with wide eyes.

He licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

He gazes up at you once again. "How do I... What do I do, exactly?"

You nearly burst into a fit of nervous giggles, but use all your strength to fight the feeling down.

"Do you see...um...that small, fleshy hood—so to speak?"

He reaches forward, pulling it upwards, nodding, revealing a small pink pearl beneath.

"That—what you've just...revealed is what gives a woman her...pleasure."

He grins. "I believe I know all I need for the moment being."

And with that, he dives between your thighs, planting his full mouth openly against your sex, beginning to suck and run his tongue between your hot folds.

You throw your head back, sucking in a sharp gasp as your eyes flutter closed.

You quickly thread your fingers tightly in his dark curls, tugging his face impossibly closer to your sex.

You release a shuddering breath, sighing his name. "Jace..."

He reaches up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before he bends his neck to the side, diving ever-deeper with his tongue, desperate to fuck you with it.

He spreads your lips with his fingers, running his tongue along your dripping entrance, moaning against your heat.

"Gods, Jace, just like that."

His lip twitches, glad for your approval.

He kisses you sloppily, making loud, wet, smacking noises against your cunt—his cock straining painfully against his breeches all the while.

Palming himself over them only serves to makes the pain all the worse.

He breaks from you, staring up at you from under hooded lids—his face now slick from your arousal.

"May I untie my breeches, My Lady?"

Your brow twitches? He...he wants your permission to give himself relief?

"Y-yes, of course."

He nods, just once. "Thank you."

Your brows shoot up at his reply, watching as he tugs desperately against black leather strings. Finally, he reveals himself: long and hard, and the pink tip weeping with seed.

He does not stroke himself even once before he returns his full attentions, instead, to you.

And it is with fervor that he does.

He slurps and gasps and moans loudly in the back of his throat as he dines upon the most delectable part of you.

"Gods," he mutters against your mound. "You're so beautiful. Mm, and delicious."

He spreads your labia again, kneeling even lower as he flicks his tongue repeatedly against your pulsating entrance—dragging his speared tip back and forth, back and forth...

You gasp, clenching his curls tightly in both of your fists before pushing his face back against where you most want his mouth to be: against your clit.

"My clit—that...part I—"

He finds it instantly.

"Oh, Gods, good boy, Jace!"

He growls against you, his ministrations turning animalistic as he sucks and sucks against it, flicking his tongue, doing his utmost to please and tease.

You release his hair, tugging down the top of your gown, revealing your naked breasts before gathering your skirts again just as they've begun to slip over his head.

You want to see him.

Want to watch what he's doing to you.

Or, mayhaps, you are doing to him.

"Your fingers...slip two of them inside of me."

He does as instructed, easing them between your tight walls. The sensation he finds to be most unexpected: they are hot as fire, warm and wet and squishy, and utterly delightful.

Now he sees what all the fuss is about.

"Curl them upwards," you say between sighs.

He does.

"Now massage."

Slowly, he makes a beckoning motion with them and you gasp loudly, your eyes popping open.

"Yes, just like that. Good, you're doing so well!"

He pushes his face against your stomach—his nose pressed so hard into it that he can hardly breathe. So, he instead gasps for breath between your legs between long sucks and pleasant licks.

You bite your lower lip and Jace assumes he's most-certainly doing something right when those velvet walls begin to clench quickly around his soaked digits—your arousal so much that it's now running down his palm.

"Yes, yes, Jace, just like—oh, Gods, good boy—yes!"

He hums in contentment, glad to know he is doing right—is pleasing you so well in this way.

Your fingers tremble against his scalp, your breaths cause your body to shudder, and your thighs shake, but you do all you can to remain upright as you grow ever-closer.

He continually flicks his tongue against your too-sensitive bundle and you begin to whine in response.

"So close. You're doing so well... Gods, just a bit—just a bit more, My Prince"

He eases a third finger inside you, continuing to gently coax, and you gasp loudly.

"Yes! Yes! Nearly—"

He swirls his tongue round and round, on both his knees still, one of his hands tightly gripping your ankle for balance as he works fervently in your favor.

"Jace, oh Gods, I can't—I—Yes! Yes! Good boy! Yes!"

You finish against his face—against his tongue—giggling and gasping and whimpering all the while as your orgasm overtakes you.

You could swear you hear dragons roaring in the distance, but cannot know in your current state.

Eventually, you calm and when you look down, Jace is nearly on all fours, staring up at you with such a look as you have never before seen: lustful and wanton and overtaken with desire.

His face and hairline is slick, as well as his right hand.

Finally, he stands on wobbly legs, and it's then that you notice his cock is absolutely covered in his thick, white seed.

"Did...did you...?"

He crushes his lips to yours—his wet erection pressing against your bare stomach, leaving its own kiss in its wake as he pulls back after allowing you to taste yourself.

"I did not need even touch myself to finish at your hand," he mumbles with a pleased smirk, returning his lips to your own.

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea @daisyhxsh

@burningwitchobject @zizouu23 @baybaybear1 @sugyomama @dracaryxzs

@hayloftxxo @gentlejoy @darlingcharling-blog @s0urw00lf @usaguisenpaisblog

@kqlopsia @marvel-at-stucky

[wonuwonder]

toast rule — jeon wonwoo (m)

content: wonwoo smut, fem reader x wonwoo, semi-public sex (bathroom), unprotected sex (pls wrap it), non relationship, anything else lmk!! 1.7k words

an: minors dni. not proof read! kinda rushed it so will be correcting mistakes later, lowercase intended. english is not my first language.

“you know there’s a saying, that if you avoid eye contact during a toast you’ll have bad sex for seven years” you say jokingly, you had gone out to some fancy restaurant for Soonyoung’s birthday, your best friend. some of your friends were mutual, and they were here as well as his own friends, which you knew a couple of them.

one of his friends, whom you’d always had seem to have some sort of tension with, Wonwoo; stares directly at you from across the table, smirks and, leans closer, extending his glass of wine to the middle of the table, and says;

“guess I better do it right” he locks his eyes with yours, and toasts your glasses together while the others do the same, you both stare directly at each other while taking a sip, and when you finish, he adds “cheers” his gaze going from your eyes to your red lips, and so on.

for the rest of the night, you become more aware of his presence, exchanging glances while pretending to pay attention to the conversation going on at the table. you catch him staring at you a couple of times, and he catches you doing the same, smirking everytime he does.

after a while, you feel something slightly brushing your leg, you quickly dismiss it, but then you feel it again, and again, shifting in your seat, you look under the table while trying not to move around so much, and you notice it wasn’t something, but someone doing it. you look up, and find him again, smirking at you, biting his lower lip as if trying to hold in his laugh, you glare back at him, and then look around the table to see if anyone had noticed you two bickering, but as you both were the last on each row at the table, no one was really paying attention.

“i’ll be back in a sec” you say to Seokmin, who was sitting next to you, all flustered, you glare at him again and get up from the table, heading towards the bathroom.

you look at yourself in the mirror and fix your hair, hell, you looked hot, wearing a little black dress that hug your curves perfectly, with just the perfect amount of cleavage, you’re about to put your red lipstick on when you see Wonwoo, entering the bathroom, quickly finding your gaze in the mirror.

“hey, what are you doing here?“ you ask as he gets to you, turning around, he’s standing in front of you —towering over you.

“looking for you, i got bored at the table” he gets closer, and brushes a strand of hair out of your face and rests his hand on your jaw, he leans towards your now exposed ear and says “wasn’t fun anymore if you weren’t there to look at” he continues, lifting your chin up, you can’t help but stare at his lips and his piercing onyx like eyes, as he does the same to you

“you weren’t so bad to look at yourself either” you say back playfully, intertwining your arms around his neck.

he grabs you by the hips and tugs you against him, making you whimper under his touch, already turned on by the sudden interaction, he leans closer, pushing you against the counter, while pressing his hips against yours, he brushes the hair out of your neck, but before kissing you he asks “may i?”, you nod, giving him the confirmation that you were as needy as he was, and honestly, you’d been wanting this since the night started.

he kisses your neck sofly, leaving a trail of kisses from the back of your ear, all the way to your clavicle.

“wonwoo…” you say lowering your voice, and he stops to look at you again, you heard people walking towards the bathroom, “anyone could walk in here any moment” he doesn’t think twice as he’s already pulling you towards the last stall in the bathroom, locking the door behind him just in time as people come inside the bathroom.

he stares back at your frame, all pressed up in that tiny little black dress you had decided to wear for tonight, that made your legs look endless, and hugged every inch of your body tight, which had been driving him crazy the minute he saw you walk into the restaurant.

“fuck it” he groans under his breath, and grabs your face kissing you hungrily, pressing you against the tiny wall, the kiss getting hotter by the second, he lowers his hands to your waist gripping you even tighter against him, you huff out a moan in response, and he quickly covers your mouth with his hand, reminding you you weren’t alone, your eyes go wide, and he grins at you, before he continues kissing you, your hands roaming all over his toned body.

his shoulders looked so wide in that white shirt that had been hugging his muscles too tight, distracting you all night. your fingers quickly start to unbotton it.

“can’t wait huh princess?” he says pulling back from attacking your neck with kisses, —that were definitely going to leave marks—

“wonwoo please touch me” you say, voice all breathy from the heat, he wastes no time doing so and pushes your dress up to your waist, revealing the tiny red lace thong you had wore tonight, he groans when he sees it, putting it to the side for easy access, his fingers dipping in your arousal, spreading all over your pussy, massaging your clit, making you gasp, one of your hands leaving his neck to cover your mouth, just in time for when he adds one finger.

“you like that baby?” he says to your ear and all you can do is nod, overwhelmed by all the pleasure, he adds another one and curls then inside of you while continuing to play with your clit with his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.

“fuck won-“ you manage to say, he looks at you with his darkened eyes.

your hands reach for his pants, and you unbuckle his belt almost desperately, his erection pressing hard against the fabric, you start stroking his bulge from outside his boxers, his cock painfully hard by now and he hitches a breath the moment you do.

“i need you, right now” you demand and his hand leaves your pussy, shutting your mouth with his fingers, making you taste yourself and you take his fingers gracefully, coating them with your tounge.

“i need you to keep quiet baby” he whispers as he gets his boxers down his legs along with his pants, his throbbing cock sprinting against his lower abdomen, and fuck it was huge.

you reach for it almost instantly, stroking him delightfully, his head tipping back and biting his lower lip to keep quiet.

he stares back at your pleading eyes and you say “please fuck me won” your words coming out like music to his ears, he grabs one of your legs and hoists it up behind his waist, making space for him to fit between your legs, squeezing his forearm tightly to steady yourself, he lines up against your core, his cock already leaking with pre cum, and he sinks into you harshly, both of you looking down to where your bodies connect, your forehead falling against his shoulder biting your lips to keep shut. he slowly puls out and sinks back in, picking up the pace, he starts pounding on you, you both already a mess while trying to make as less noise as possible, his mouth finds yours again, kissing you passionately, you groan against his mouth as he finds your favorite spot, you can’t hold much longer.

“won… m’gonna” you start and he grips your hip tightly with his free hand, squeezing your thigh with the other.

“me too”, he thrusts into you one more time and you both come undone, you bite his shoulder trying not to scream, and he grabs your other leg, making you wrap yourself around his waist to sit on the toilet lid, straddling him, as he was still inside you, you both ride out your highs.

he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair, resting your cheeck on top of his head, and you stay like that for a bit, as his cum drips out of your pussy. after he pulls out, he starts to clean you up, and you both dress yourselves as better as possible to look like nothing happened.

after you’re done, you try to figure out if there’s someone still in the bathroom, pressing your ear against the tiny door, wonwoo wasting no time in looking at the way your ass cheeks looked pressed in the fabric of your dress.

“you think someone heard us?” you say, while still trying to hear if there was someone else in the bathroom, he grips your ass tightly with one of his hands, making you turn around to look at him.

“probably…” he starts, “not that i care” he says and starts kissing you again, but you shut down the kiss before it starts getting heated again.

“won we need to go back, they’re probably wondering where the hell we went” you mutter out, he steals a kiss from you again, “i’ll go see if there’s anyone here and in the hallway, so you can escape first” you leave the stall trying to look as normal as possible, while fixing your dress and examine each stall, luckily for you, you were alone, but you open the door of the bathroom, and find minghao leaving the men’s bathroom.

“hey, y/n, you okay?” he asks.

“yes! just, um lady problems” you reply, and his eyes squint, not buying any of it obviously,

“… okay, see you at the table” he says back grinning at you, and when he turns to walk away, you go inside the bathroom to free wonwoo from the stall, “you can leave now, quickly” you say and he gets out, “when you get back to the table, say you were outside smoking or something, minghao was in the bathroom, so you can’t say that” you explain and he nods, “alright, alright” you walk towards the door together, but before opening it, he turns around and says, to your ear.

“next time we do this, i want to hear every little sound from you” he bites his lips and grabs the door handle.

“what makes you think there will be a next time?” you bite back.

“the way you loved my cock” he winks at you before leaving the bathroom, with the biggest smirk on his face.

an: notes comments or reblogs are appreciated, just wanna read what you think😭

[deliciousangelfestival]

Did I Make You Proud?

Character: Spy!Bucky x Rogue!Spy Female Reader

Summary: Imagine being a rogue agent, relentlessly pursued by your irresistibly attractive former mentor, Bucky, who is determined to track you down.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

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

Bucky P.O.V

Bucky's gaze flicked up to the intercom as the voice crackled through, laden with stress. "Did you see her?"

He sighed, the weight of the crowded train station bearing down on him. "Too many people here," he muttered, his frustration evident in the terse response.

"I never thought she would betray us. We have to find her before they do," came the voice from the intercom, laden with frustration.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration mirroring the tone on the intercom.

It was understandable why tensions ran high in the spy agency; one of their own had gone rogue, becoming a fugitive and leaving chaos in their wake.

And to make matters worse, the rogue agent is you.

The senior agent, Bucky received a direct order to apprehend the rogue agent. He was the one who had trained and guided you.

The situation's urgency hit him like a wave as he grasped the gravity of the rogue agent's actions. You had obtained sensitive data from a secret base and were planning to sell it to another country, triggering a potential international crisis.

"BANG."

The explosion erupted from the toilet, sending shockwaves through the crowded area.

"KYAA!!!" Panic spread like wildfire as people scrambled everywhere except for Bucky.

He remained calm amidst the chaos, a knowing look in his eyes as he recognized the familiar tactic. He had taught you well – create a distraction but ensure no civilians get hurt. It was a motto they lived by.

As his colleagues and the soldiers mobilized to locate the source of the explosion, Bucky's focus was unwavering. His gaze swept over the frantic crowd until, finally, he spotted you.

There you were, a smirk playing on your lips as you sat inside the cafe directly across from him.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Bucky – relief at finally finding you, the rogue agent, mingled with disappointment and a touch of regret.

Despite the agencies hot on your trail, you exuded an air of confidence, leisurely sipping your coffee as if you hadn't a care in the world. Bucky's jaw clenched with determination as he observed you from afar, his fist tightening as he made his way towards your location.

As he anticipated, you had vanished from the cafe, but your signature perfume lingered in the air, serving as a tantalizing clue. Trusting his instincts, Bucky followed the scent until he spotted you boarding a train.

With a quickened pace, he hurried to catch up, his steps purposeful as he entered the same carriage as you. The doors closed behind them, sealing their fate within the confines of the train.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" the intercom crackled with concern.

Bucky's hand moved swiftly to remove the device from his ear, slipping it into his pocket as he met your gaze with steely resolve. "I found her," he declared, his voice firm as he prepared to confront the rogue agent face to face.

Bucky quickened his pace, determination driving his strides as he reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to the quiet area of the train.

"Stop what you're doing. Do you want to get caught and be a prisoner in another country?" he pleaded, his voice laced with urgency and concern.

You shrugged nonchalantly, seeming unfazed by the consequences. "As long as I get paid," you replied, a hint of indifference in your tone.

Bucky's grip tightened as he looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of recognition. "This isn't you," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.

Pushing away his hand, you retorted, "What happened to 'no strings attached'?"

Bucky grumbled in frustration, feeling the weight of his own words haunting him. Perhaps you were right; he shouldn't have let himself worry about you.

But memories flooded his mind – the nights spent together, sharing warmth on cold evenings, and when you pretended to be husband and wife. Those days held a special place in his heart, now overshadowed by your betrayal.

"You... you were different," he muttered, struggling to reconcile the person he once knew with the rogue agent before him.

With a smirk, you met his gaze defiantly. "Because of you and the agency pushing my limits, I've learned my true value," you declared, your confidence unwavering.

"I'm a good spy."

Bucky couldn't deny the truth in your words. Despite the circumstances, there was no denying your skill as a spy. You had learned from the best – him.

As tension crackled between them, a mixture of frustration, longing, and unresolved emotions hung in the air, a testament to the complex relationship they once shared.

Bucky's voice was stern as he demanded, "Where's the data?"

You met his gaze with defiance, a smirk playing on your lips. "Too late. Before you guys found me at the train station, I already handed it over to the buyer."

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air as Bucky processed the gravity of the situation. "Do you even realize what you've done?" he asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.

You shrugged casually, a flicker of intensity in your eyes. "Can't you see the big picture? If there's only peace, people like us won't exist. I'm just here to keep it alive," you retorted, your confidence palpable, starkly contrasting to the timid and quiet persona he once knew.

Bucky fell silent, taken aback by the transformation before him. You had evolved into someone both confident and alluring, your newfound demeanor leaving him both impressed and unsettled.

You sensed his internal struggle and couldn't resist teasing him further. "Did I make you proud?" you inquired, tilting your head provocatively and adding a coy "Sir?" to the end of your question.

A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you continued, "Or perhaps you'd rather catch me and handcuff me to your bed?"

Bucky's patience wore thin as he reached out, his fingers pinching your chin to meet his gaze. Leaning in closer, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss filled with unspoken tension.

The kiss spoke volumes, a collision of conflicting emotions – desire, frustration, and longing – all wrapped up in a single moment of intimacy.

As Bucky pulled away, his voice was low and authoritative. "Don't test my patience," he warned, his eyes burning with a mixture of warning and undeniable desire.

You let out a low, almost amused hum. "Hmm... I know."

The train whisked them away, racing across the bridge with breathtaking scenery flashing by. In a different circumstance, perhaps they could have appreciated the view together. But now, they were locked in a tense standoff.

"We should meet again," you remarked, breaking the silence.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You offered no explanation, but a sense of unease prickled at Bucky's senses. He tensed, feeling a presence behind him, and his suspicions were confirmed when he turned to find seven men poised for a fight.

"Really?" Bucky shot you a disbelieving look as you shrugged nonchalantly.

"I need something to stall the time. I'll see you again, Sir." You turned and bolted with that, leaving Bucky to face the onslaught alone. He braced himself, ready to take on the challenge.

The fight was fierce, a whirlwind of punches and kicks as Bucky engaged in a battle of wits and strength. Despite being outnumbered, his training and skill allowed him to emerge victorious.

As he dealt the final blow, the sound of a helicopter overhead drew his attention. Bucky sighed, realizing that this was your escape plan unfolding.

When the train finally came to a halt, Bucky found himself surrounded by his agency colleagues, their expressions a mix of disappointment and frustration.

"She got away?" one of them asked, voicing the collective sentiment.

Bucky could only nod grimly. "Yup."

"Shit."

The frustration simmered within Bucky as he slid his hand into his jacket pocket, feeling something unexpected. With a quick glance, he pulled out a small item, his cheeks flushing crimson as he recognized it. It was undoubtedly your doing, a teasing reminder of your audacity.

Despite his frustration, Bucky couldn't deny the thrill of the chase, the challenge you presented only fueling his determination to catch you.

With a silent vow, Bucky steeled himself for the subsequent encounter. He would find you; this time, you wouldn't slip through his fingers so easily.

🚁

As you reached the top of the stairs, panting slightly from the exhilarating climb from the moving train, thrill and nervousness danced in your veins. 

Clara, your partner in crime and the helicopter pilot shook her head in disbelief. "I knew you wanted to make a cool exit for your hot former mentor, but this has to stop," she chided a hint of exasperation in her tone.

"Climbing up from a moving train? You might as well have signed your own death warrant," Clara continued, her eyes wide with concern.

You flashed her a mischievous grin, trying to brush off the seriousness of the situation. "I just wanted to impress him," you admitted, your voice laced with a hint of sheepishness.

Clara sighed, knowing all too well how to handle your impulsive tendencies. "Maybe next time, just kidnap him and live on a private island. Then you two can live happily ever after," she suggested with a playful wink.

You chuckled at the absurdity of her suggestion but couldn't help but entertain the thought. "That's not a bad idea. I should save money to buy an island," you mused, already picturing the two of you lounging on a tropical beach, far away from the chaos of the spy world.

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@xcaptain-winterx

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@vicmc624

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mostlymarvelgirl

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

@buckybarnessimpp

@charmedbysarge

@almosttoopizza

@sapphirebarnes

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@rebeccapineapple

@cjand10

@pigeonmama

@almosttoopizza

@thesarcasmqueen-22

@cakesandtom

@ficrecsbyellie

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!