#this truly is @ all my followers too you are appreciated and loved for choosing to lurk around my mess of a blof

[note-boom]

Awwwww I love you too Libby!! Throwing it back at ye and throwing nuggets at @iwritenarrativesandstuff @bobisnolongerhere @tachiguin beloved mutuals indeed!

And to everyone who has had a dm conversation with me ;)

This is the Nugget of Friendship.

It is not given lightly. Yet I give it to you.

Yes. I mean YOU.

Now shoo.

Pass on the Nugget of Friendship.

[lipglossanon]

Red Flags and Long Nights

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x daughter fem!reader (one shot)

hello hello 👋 this is the fic written for the milestone celebration poll winner (real dad taking accidental viagra); big big thanks to all of you who have gotten me here!! 💜 💜 I’m so thankful everyday that you guys choose to read/like/share/interact with my fics and just me in general! 🥰 so without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one shot!!!

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, INCEST, dead dove content, dad/daughter incest, groping, slight cnc, dirty talk, breast play, oral (m receiving), kissing, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread 😅 some of it was written while sleepy so hopefully it makes sense haha

title from Red Flags and Long Nights from She Wants Revenge

<<prequel: Oh By Gosh, By Golly>>

One day, your mom calls you up out of the blue wanting to talk about planning a family vacation this year. Somewhere with sandy beaches and clear blue water. Something over an extended weekend once everyone can take off work. She’s already talked it over with your dad and he’s agreeable as long as it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. 

As she talks, you pull open your calendar and look over your work schedule. Once you find a date that works, she promises to text you the details of the Air B&B she plans to book. You bid her goodbye and hang up the phone, quietly excited about a beach trip even if it is with your parents. 

You keep busy as you slowly count down the days; long graduated from college but still struggling to find work in your major, you’ve had to settle for any job opportunity that will pay the bills. Luckily enough, you were hired to work at the local post office. It’s not a glamorous job by any means, but you do get federal holidays off and your boss is pretty lenient with you. It’s a cinch to put in your PTO for the extended weekend you plan to spend with your parents. 

The morning you drive down to the beach house is pleasant; it’s early enough you miss out on a bunch of traffic which helps you save enough time to splurge a little and grab some coffee. Following the GPS, you get to the beach house in the afternoon with plenty of sunshine left to enjoy. Your parent’s car is already parked outside so you don’t have to worry about figuring out how to unlock the joint.

You grab your small suitcase and make your way into the lovely three story home. As you walk up the gravel sidewalk, you take in how secluded the area truly is and how lucky your mom was in getting such a nice place. You’re pretty sure it cost out the ass, but hey who’re you to deny such generosity?

The door swings open before you touch the handle and your mom pulls you into a hug. 

“Oh honey, I’m so happy you could make it!”

Breathing in the perfume embedded into your brain from childhood, you give her a quick squeeze back before pulling away. 

“Me too,” you smile, “this place is amazing!”

She laughs and moves further into the house, looking back as you follow along behind after closing the door. 

“A friend of a friend owns this place so it was pretty easy to get. Even your father can’t throw one of his little hissy fits about the cost,” she rolls her eyes and you breathe out a laugh. 

“Where is he?” You look around but only see the open kitchen leading off into the dining room. 

“Down at the beach,” she points to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the living room, “I told him I wanted to stay up here for when you arrived.”

You nod and smile at her again, “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m gonna go put my stuff up and change then we can head down ourselves.”

She nods, “There’s a handful of bedrooms on the second and third floor. Your dad and I are staying in the master down here so you have your choice of rooms.”

“Nice, be back in a sec,” grabbing your luggage, you climb the stairs to scout out where you want to sleep. 

You pick a cute room on the third floor; it has a little balcony with a couple of chairs that gives you a fantastic view for miles around. You toss your clothes into the dresser and quickly change into your swimsuit. Grabbing a towel and some sunscreen, you slide on your sandals and make your way back downstairs. Your mom, wearing a big floppy hat, is already standing outside the sliding doors. 

You chatter with each other, just catching up on your day to day, while you both make your way down the little path that leads out onto the beach. As soon as your sandals hit the sand, you see a huge beach umbrella. 

“Glad to know he won’t burn,” your mom laughs, toeing off her own sandals to walk barefoot over to your dad. 

Following her lead, you take off your sandals and carry them over to the blanket underneath the shade of the umbrella. 

“‘Bout time,” a groggy baritone meets your ears. 

“Shush, Leon, it didn’t kill you to nap on the beach now did it?”

Your dad just mumbles a reply to your mom before raising up. He squints over at you, eyes heavy lidded from sleep as you set your stuff down. 

“The drive okay?”

You laugh and finally look over at him, “It was fine.”

His blue eyes sharpen as they read your expression before darting down to give you a once over. Your nipples tighten against your will and his gaze seems to linger there for a split second before flicking back up to your face. Plastering on a fake smile, you sit down and grab your sunscreen. 

“Want some help with that?” Your dad nods to the little bottle in your hands. 

“S-sure.”

You kinda hope the ground splits open to swallow you whole, but instead you just move over to where your dad is sitting up on the blanket, hand outstretched to grab the sunscreen. 

“Well while you two do that, I’m going to go take a dip,” your mom beams at you, completely leaving you alone to wallow in this newfound awkwardness. 

Keeping your back to your dad, you feel his broad calloused palms drag the slick lotion all over your back and shoulders, deftly massaging it in. For the last few years, there’s been a line of tension between you and Leon. An accidental kiss under the mistletoe where you both used too much tongue to be appropriate (any tongue isn’t appropriate but you’re blaming the alcohol everyone had been drinking).  

Since then, you’ve both watched the other. Glances too heated to be innocent, brushing against each other unnecessarily… and now with his sun warmed hands rubbing across your back, your brain empties as your body buzzes with arousal.

It’s why it takes a second for you to realize that your dad has moved on to rubbing in the sunblock across your ribs and over your clavicle. His hands come up and cup your breasts, stiff nipples showing through the fabric. 

“Gotta make sure to get everywhere,” his breath gusts past your ear as his hands slip under your top and massages the fat of your breasts. 

“Ohh,” you whimper quietly, cunt pulsing warmly in time with your heartbeat.  

He squeezes and rubs across your soft skin, fingers plucking at your stiff peaks until you moan brokenly. 

“Dad,” your breathy exaltation has him pinching and twisting your nipples before groping your breasts roughly in his hands. 

“‘M almost done,” he licks the shell of your ear and your thighs twitch, “you’ve got such nice tits, princess. Don’t want’em to burn.”

You press your hand over your mouth to muffle the whine you let slip. With one last harsh pinch to your nipples, he lets go, scooting back away from you. 

“Should be good to go,” he grins at your dazed look, “don’t keep your mom waiting.”

Shaking your head, you blink rapidly and slowly climb to your feet. As you pass by Leon, his hand reaches up and smacks your ass hard. 

“Be a good girl, okay?”

“Y-yeah, dad.”

You pad out to the ocean, waving to your mom as she looks for seashells in the shallow water. Wading out far enough for water to hit your chest, you finally let yourself sigh out loud. 

“What in the fuck?!”

You rub wet hands over your face as you gaze out onto the horizon. Flirting is one thing, but getting felt up by your dad is definitely crossing the line. You shiver, clit still throbbing as you reach down to press your palm against your cunt. Even as messed up as it may make you, you wish he would’ve slipped his hand down and fingered your pussy. 

The sun glaring off the water makes you squint even as you enjoy the scenery, trying your best to squish all the other thoughts and feelings you’ve had in the past half hour down into a little box you can open later. It works for a time, until the squinting becomes too much and the glare is driving sharp little needles into your brain. 

Leaving the water, you make your way over to your mom as she scoops up more shells with a net. 

“I’m gonna head in, got a bit of a headache,” you wince as the sun bounces off her watch into your eyes. 

“Let me walk with you,” she frowns, “you’re looking a little washed out.”

You nod and follow her back up to the beach blanket, eyes skirting over where your dad’s lounging reading a book. 

“We’re headed up to the house, do you need anything?”

Your mom grabs her bag and your stuff as your dad sets his book down onto his lap. He looks at you then back to his wife. 

“No, once I finish this, I’ll be heading up, too.”

She hums and takes you by the arm, helping guide you back to the house since the pain beats a tempo behind your eyes and makes your vision a little blurry. Once in the house, she helps you upstairs to your room. In doing so, she makes sure to stop in at the bathroom on the bottom floor to point out the migraine medicine in the cabinet.

Entering your room, she sits you down on your bed. She tucks you in and makes sure to close the blinds before walking back into the hallway. Turning, she gives you a concerned look.

“I’m going to head into town. It’s about an hour's drive from here so I won’t be back til later. If you need anything, call, okay?”

You hum in reply already drifting to sleep in hopes you’ll feel better once you crash for a few hours. The nap helps and by the time you come to, your headache is completely gone. Waking up is a chore however; it takes you a minute to realize where you are, eyelids sticking together, gummy with sleep. 

Raising up on your elbows, you reach over to the side table and grab your phone. Eyebrows pinching together, you blink sluggishly until you can read the time. It’s only late afternoon even if it feels like you’ve slept through the night. Climbing out of bed, you change before leaving your room with a plan on grabbing some water from the kitchen. 

It’s noticeably quiet as you finally step out on the bottom floor. Your mom must still be gone since you don’t see her shoes by the front door. 

“Fuck.”

You hear the muttered curse from the half open bathroom door that you’re walking past heading to the kitchen. 

“Everything okay?” 

You slowly press the door all the way open and your dad fumbles with a towel before placing it over his lap as he sits heavily down on the edge of the tub. 

“I thought you were out with your mother,” he bites out, tone sharp.

“No,” you frown, leaning against the doorjamb, “I had a headache and took a nap. Are you alright?”

He blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. 

“I’m fine. What time did she say she’d be back?”

You shrug, “Couple of hours I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Should I call—“

“No,” Leon nearly shouts, “no, don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“Dad, I can help I just need to know what’s wrong,” you step closer into the bathroom. 

He laughs without any humor, “Sure.”

You go to ask him why when your eyes catch on the bottle sitting by the sink. It’s similar to the migraine medicine you saw in the medicine cabinet earlier, the one your mom pointed out if the nap didn’t get rid of your headache. Who knew your dad needed help getting it up?

“Did you..?”

You trail off, feeling awkward and nervous and disgustingly turned on to think your dad’s dick is hard underneath that flimsy towel. 

“Yes,” he sounds tired, “I thought it was the other medicine.”

“Ohh,” you bite your lip, brain completely in the gutter as your eyes drift down to his lap, “I mean, I can still help.”

It seems insane but your dad’s not stopping you as you shuffle closer to stand between his legs. His blue eyes stay steady on yours as you kneel in the floor, knees digging into the soft rug in front of the tub. Leon tugs his briefs down and his cock slaps against his stomach, precum drooling from the head. He’s so hard, the foreskin has drawn back from the tip showcasing how red and swollen his cock has gotten from the medication. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, eyes greedily taking him in.

“Fuck, don’t look at it like that,” he groans, hands gripping the tub so tight his knuckles blanch.

“You’re just really big,” you press the dough of your thighs together, trying to put a little pressure on your throbbing clit, “you’ve got the fattest cock I’ve ever seen, dad.”

You watch as precum blurts from the tip to drip all down his length while he moans low in his throat. 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth,” his pupils are blown as he gazes down at you, “since you like how big my dick is, sweetheart, why don’t you show me, hmm?”

Your tongue licks up all the precum leaking down his dick before softly suckling on the head.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, “suck that cock.”

Moaning, you bob your head down, tongue tracing the thick vein you can feel on the side as you sink down inch by inch. Your dad pulls out to trace your lips with his drippy tip, smearing precum across your mouth like sticky gloss. You moan and press a kiss to his dick, tongue lapping at the crown until he’s rocking back into your mouth. Humming low in your throat makes his cock kick in your mouth, precum coating your tongue.

“Damn, so good,” he groans, hand smoothing across your jaw, cradling it as he pulls his cock out, “never get head from your mom anymore. Feels so good.”

More slick wets your panties as you mewl, throat clicking as you swallow around his thick length. You hungrily suck his cock, tongue circling his head before dipping into the slit to taste more of his precum.

“Like sucking me off, sweetheart?” he tosses the fringe away from his eyes while he rocks his hips, pushing himself deeper into your throat with smooth strokes until you gag heavily. 

“Love that, choke on it a bit more and I’ll be spilling down your slutty throat.”

Thick strands of saliva bridge between your mouth and his dick like shimmery spiderwebs as he slips out. You moan when he ruts his cock across your tongue. Leon groans and reaches down to tap his cock against your lips before feeding it back to you. Whining, you suck him deeper into your mouth, licking across the head before messily bobbing your head further down his thick length.  

“I'm about t’cum, swallow it all up, princess,” he thrusts a few more times before pulling out until the tip is sitting fat and heavy on your tongue. 

Leon grunts and moans as hot thick spurts of cum fill your mouth. Swallowing quickly, you try to keep his cum from spilling out around your lips, but it ends up leaving a sticky mess to drip down your chin in thick strands. 

You watch as he groans, stomach flexing while you suckle on the head of his dick, making sure to not miss any of his hot jizz as his balls empty into your mouth. After giving the tip of his dick a kiss, you pull back and wipe the spend from your face with the bottom of your shirt. 

Your cunt feels soaked, panties sticking to your pussy lips as you shakily stand onto your feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Your dad stands up beside you, cock still hard and leaking, making you whimper. Pulling his briefs back up, he leaves his shorts and shirt lying on the floor. He grabs you by the forearm and leads you out of the bathroom and all the way upstairs into your room.

“No surprises if your mom comes home early,” he informs you, pushing you further into your room followed by closing and locking your door. 

Heat radiates from your cunt, more slick dripping into the already soaked gusset of your panties. Leon shoves you back onto your bed before climbing on top of you, kissing you heatedly as he sinks down onto your body. You wrap your legs around his waist while you run your hands through his messy hair. You're so turned on you can’t think straight anymore. 

“Thatta girl,” he coos, pulling back to drop kisses across your neck, “can’t wait to feel your wet little pussy, baby.”

You whimper and pull him back up into another kiss. This time he licks into your mouth messily, spit dripping from the corners of your lips to slide down your jaw. You feel him grind his cock against you before pulling away. 

He sits back on his haunches and slips his briefs off, maneuvering until he can toss them into the floor. Next, he leans forward and grips the bands of your panties and shorts. You help him, shimmying to move your clothes down off of your legs. As he moves those into the floor, you slip your shirt off and let it too fall onto the pile of clothing. 

“God, love your tits,” he groans, shoving his face into your breasts, mouth licking and biting every inch of skin they come across. 

His mouth suctions around a nipple, tongue teasing the stiff bud as he tweaks the opposite one with his fingers. 

“Dad,” you moan, nails digging into his scalp.

“What?” He coos, “your dad can’t show his appreciation?”

A whine rasps from your throat and Leon laughs meanly before biting the swollen bud he was sucking. With a grunt, he moves across your sternum, leaving hot open mouthed kisses across your chest until he can suckle and tease the other nipple, fingers plucking and pinching at the now wet one. 

Your hips writhe, leaking cunt dragging against his stomach as his cock grinds against the cleft of your ass. 

“Gonna let daddy stuff your tight wet cunt?” He chuckles as your eyes flutter as he lathes your nipples with broad swipes of his tongue. 

“Yes,” you whisper, “wanna feel you split me open. You’re so big.”

Whining on the last word, you rock down, feeling his tip catch against your pussy lips and driving you crazy. 

He growls and sits back on his heels, taking his cock in hand to smack it against your clit. 

“So slutty,” his pupils swallow the blue of his eyes, “want daddy to stretch this little hole out? Show you how a real dick feels?”

Nodding along with his words, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking into the plush skin.  

“Goddamn,” he mutters, spitting in his hand to slick his cock before pressing the head against your soaked heat. 

Using his thumb, he presses his cock down so the tip slides into your hole. Keeping it there, he rocks against your hips, sinking inch by inch into your pulsing cunt as his thumb keeps his cock steady. Pulling halfway out, he flexes his hips and thrusts forward faster than before. 

“Even your mom doesn’t let me go raw anymore,” he chuckles, bottoming out so fast you choke on air, “so this is a real treat, sweetheart.”

“Ohh god, dad,” you moan, voice high as he starts sliding his cock in and out of your pussy, rough thrusts that make your breasts bounce. 

You whine when he grinds against you, his pelvis rubbing over your swollen clit just right. His balls smack against your ass on every thrust, the loud plap plap plap of skin driving your arousal even higher. 

“Dad, fuck, s’too much,” you gasp out another whine, head feeling dizzy as your blood rushes, arousal making your pulse feel heavy in your throat. 

He groans and drops his weight down on you, bare skin sticking together from the sweat building between your bodies. Leon kisses across your neck, mouth grazing your skin with barely there nips that makes your pussy flutter around his cock. 

The thatch of hair at the base of Leon’s cock grazes your sensitive clit, sending little electric shocks of pleasure that brings tears to your eyes. You feel so good, you can’t stop the slutty noises from leaving your mouth. Rutting into your body, your dad’s fat cock grinds against the spongy spot along the front of your cunt. Slick gushes from your pussy as he hammers your g-spot so perfectly you can’t help but squeeze him tighter and tighter. 

“Princess,” he murmurs in your ear, “is this little pussy gonna cum? You’re so soft and wet— I can feel you tightening up around me. God so much tighter than your mom, can’t believe I’ve been missing out.”

His words push you over the edge. You babble out little chants of dad, dad, dad until a guttural moan spills from your throat, thighs jumping as your pussy clamps down on Leon’s dick like a vice.

Your low moaning twists into a scream as his hand sneaks down to rub and tease your clit. Instead of your orgasm tapering off, it ramps up, gaining speed until it hurtles you into cumming again. 

“Aww, she’s gripping me so tight,” Leon mocks sweetly in your ear, “yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.”

“Dad,” you whimper, tears clumping your eyelashes, “dad, please.”

A moan rumbles from his chest and he humps your cunt faster, cock never pulling completely out as he ruts inside your slick pussy walls. Half a dozen thrusts more and he’s growling down at you, pressing his cock balls deep into your cunt, thick cum spurting from the tip of his dick to stuff you full.  

“Oh so tight, baby,” he sighs, hips pressed against yours as he spills inside your snug little cunt, “your little pussy fits me like a glove.”

Shuddering, your walls milk another small load of cum from his heavy balls and he pants noisily against your clavicle. He presses up onto his forearms, hips swiveling to pull his cock halfway out before sinking it back inside, a mix of your creamy arousal and his spend making a ring around the base.

“Good, huh,” his laugh tinges on mocking, “don’t worry, ‘m not done with my daughter’s cute pussy, gonna keep you here for as long as it takes.”

After that, it’s all a pleasurable blur. You're unsure how many orgasms your dad has given you at this point, but you know he’s only had three and his cock is still so thick and hard. 

“Think this one will be it, princess,” he grunts, hoisting your limp thighs up, the bend of your knees slotting perfectly over the bend of his arms. 

You can only pant in reply, mouth as dry as cotton. He notches the head of his drooling dick at your entrance, dragging the tip up to smear the cum from his last creampie all over your used cunt. 

“One last load for your greedy little pussy,” he grins down at you, “then we can take a shower.”

He sinks his cock into your sore pussy at the same time he leans forward, pressing your sweaty bodies together. Your eyes roll back as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, thighs shaking against his arms. 

“So deep,” he groans, “best cunt I’ve ever fucked and to think it belongs to my sweet daughter.”

Your pussy spasms and clenches down on his thick length as you cry out. Brain melting pleasure seeps down your spine as he pulls out to grind across your g-spot before fucking back into your cunt roughly. 

“S’good, dad,” you mewl, mouth drooling as he hammers his cock into your sensitive hole, “so good.”

“I know,” he croons, “I feel good, too. Not g’nna be able to give up this sweet little pussy. She grips me too good, baby, I’m gonna want her all the time.”

Another orgasm slams into your body, pussy pulsing and sucking his cock into your hole as your head thrashes against the bed. Leon’s hands grip your wrists to push them down against the bed so you don’t scratch him. 

“Fuck, milking your dad’s cock like you’re made for it,” he groans, humping into your pussy with deep strokes until you’re crying from overstimulation. 

“Shh, shh, just take it a little more, ‘m about to cum,” he licks into your mouth, biting on your bottom lip before pulling back, “that’s it, take it, take your dad’s dick deep into that hot, greedy little pussy.”  

Hiccuping a sob, your cunt steadily milks his cock as he buries himself all the way, as deep into your pussy as possible. He grunts against your skin as he grinds his dick against your cervix, spilling rope after rope of cum to paint your walls white. The sticky heat makes your clit throb even as your body aches, wanting to succumb to exhaustion. 

The distant question of how your mom isn’t back yet buzzes at the corner of your consciousness. You must slur it out loud cause Leon laughs as he pulls his softening cock from your puffy leaking cunt. 

“She texted you to say she got stuck in a traffic jam and the road’s blocked for a few hours,” he sighs as he slaps his cock down onto your messy pussy, a wet splat that makes you wince. 

“Dad, ‘m sore,” you pout.

“So sorry, baby,” he coos, a grin overtaking his face, “want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Chest fluttering at the thought, you go to agree when your phone buzzes with an incoming call. Leon grabs it to silence it but turns to look at you. 

“It’s your mom,” he chuckles, handing it over to you, “better see what she wants.”

Sliding it open, her voice rings out clear in the quiet of your room. 

“Hey honey, your dad didn’t answer but I wanted to say I’m about five minutes from the house if you wanted to preheat the oven for this frozen pizza I picked up,” she laughs to herself, “well, it was frozen.”

Your dad sits down on the edge of the bed, listening in to the conversation. 

“Okay, sure, we’ll see ya when you get here,” Leon nods at you, “bye, mom.”

After she says goodbye, you put the phone back on the side table. 

“Well we should get cleaned up,” Leon helps you stand on weak legs, “I’ll help you to the tub and I’ll head downstairs.”

“Thanks, dad,” you smile up at him and he drops a kiss on your cheek. 

“Of course,” he leads you out into the hallway, helping you inside the little bathroom next to your room. 

He sits you down onto the toilet, turning on the shower to allow it time to heat up. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your temple, “I know it’s all kinds of fucked up, but I still love you.”

Heart beating double time, you give him a crooked smile, “I love you too, dad.”

He presses his lips together, looking like he wants to say more, but he blows out a harsh breath and walks back out into the hall. 

“I’ll handle the oven and your mom, you just come downstairs when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you say as he swings the door shut. 

Sitting there with your thoughts, you let yourself feel. Satisfaction filters through followed by a smidgen of guilt and shame. You hate that your mom is an innocent party in all of this, but you don’t regret letting your dad fuck your brains out. And since this is a complete one off, it’s just a little family secret that you’ll both be taking to the grave. 

Once steam wafts from the shower, you stand up and step into the warm water. You whimper as the heat works on your sore muscles. By this time tomorrow, this will all seem like some really deranged fantasy you dreamt up. Finishing up in the shower, you dry off and make your way back to your room. Getting dressed, you descend downstairs, the smell of pizza growing stronger. 

“Oh there you are! Feeling better?” 

Your mom comes around the counter to feel your forehead. 

“Yeah, I just slept it off.”

She ushers you to sit down at the table and brings the pizza over, your dad following behind with the drinks. Your mom sits to your right and your dad sits across from you both. He catches your eye and winks, making you look down at your plate out of shyness. 

“Eat up, I’m sure you’re wore out from the hard day,” his mirthful tone draws your gaze back up. 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat and take a drink, “it’s been a hard day alright.”

[angelwishess]

You have been invited to the Fairytale Soiree! ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔

Angel’s 100+ followers event!

a/n: Hi hi everyone! I’d like to thank everyone so, so so very much for 160 followers!! When I first started this blog about a month ago, I genuinely did NOT expect to get this much love and attention. It was such a surprise, but I’m so very thankful nonetheless! During my short time running this blog I have met so many wonderful, talented, charming, amazing people, and I appreciate all of you so much! Thank you once again for supporting me until now! ♡

Story:

Every 100 years, a group of fae gather together to host a grand party to celebrate the beginning of a new century. And tonight, once the clock hits 12 it will be the genesis of a new era once more. The stars seemed to shine brighter than usual on this evening, and magic swirled around as the faeries gathered to sing, dance, feast and party the night away.

But of course, there was one more thing they had to do. Every Soiree, the three hosting faeries summon a group of humans, beastmen and merfolk alike to join them on this joyous occasion! Once every one hundered years, it truly would be a waste not to share the joys of tonight.

It just so happened that this time, a group of students seem to be the ones that were chosen! Waking up in an unfamiliar palace-like building, lush with gorgeous flora and hues of pinks, blues and purples. Although skeptical at first, they soon joined the fae with their grand soiree.

That was, until they swiftly picked out Kyra from the crowd. Declaring her as the “Dreamer of Tonight”. They explained, that at the end of every soiree, just before the clock hits 12, all of the fae come together to grant one wish. Whether it be riches that overflow into mountains of gold, power beyond imagination, or knowledge of the unknown— whatever it is, they grant it. And it may even shape the course of the next century.

Kyra pondered this for a moment, sitting upon an elegant throne-like chair as she looked at the faces of all her friends. She frowned, and the faeries were curious. That was until she asked,

“Could I share my wish with my friends?”

Taken aback, the faeries asked why she wanted to do such a thing.

“Well… It just seems kind of unfair. They all deserve to have their wishes granted, too.”

An air of silence filled the room. Only to be broken by a rampaging laughter from all of the fae. They laughed, and laughed, until tears prickled in the corners of their eyes. No one had ever asked for something so ridiculous. The very first time anyone had asked for such a thing!

Amused, the fae agreed to let her share the wish— but with only one person. Now, its up to the rest of the group to decide whether they want to convince Kyra to share the wish with her, or simply just enjoy the party. But they better hurry up, because the clock is ticking! Either way, the faeries are expecting a good show out of tonight’s soiree.

Why, it might just be the most exciting one yet!

“Share this wish with me!”

Dress Code:

There isn’t a really stict dresscode— but of course the characters will all be wearing clothing suited for an extravagant ball!

And, if the name wasn’t obvious enough, this event is very Fairytale themed! So I suggest taking inspiration from fairytales! Whether it be characters, tropes, or items in the fairytale! Go crazy!!!

Theres not really a certain colorscheme either, Id rather you use the colors you think fit the characters you choose the most !!

Featured Characters:

Kyra Lovelace SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Floyd Leech SR (Fairytale Attire)

Ace Trappola SR (Fairytale Attire)

Vil Schoenheit SR (Fairytale Attire)

Azul Ashengrotto SR (Fairytale Attire)

Leona Kingscholar SR (Fairytale Attire)

Jamil Viper SR (Fairytale Attire)

Sebek Zigvolt R (Fairytale Attire)

Jamil Viper R (Fairytale Attire)

Jack Howl R (Fairytale Attire)

OCs:

Victor Sanderson SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yuuel “El” Mirume SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Joseph Akaba SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yurena Lovelace SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yuubeni Choga SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Rory Queens SR (Fairytale Attire)

Shuu SR (Fairytale Attire)

Rayven Ludwig SR (Fairytale Attire)

Arlo Wake SR (Fairytale Attire)

Erice Ainsbourg SR (Fairytale Attire)

Delilah Koshkin SR (Fairytale Attire)

Philosophy Freay R (Fairytale Attire)

Yuhua Wei (Fairytale Attire)

Asher (Fairytale Attire)

AJ (Fairytale Attire)

RULES!!!:

- Despite this being a follower milestone event, everyone is welcome to participate! ♡

- You can use any kind of character to enter into the - event! OCs, Yuusonas, and canon characters that haven’t been listed in the participants! All characters are very much welcomed !!!

- Any kind of entry is also welcomed! Art, edits, fics, ect.

- Please tag me in your post and use the tag #Fairytale Soiree! In your posts!

Strictly no NSFW or proshipping.

There is no clear deadline nor winner, this is honestly just for fun so go crazy!!

Theres no real limit on the amount of SSR cards either, so feel free to do whatever you’d like, whether you choose to make an SSR, SR or R card !

Feel free to dm me if you have any questions :3

Once again, Thank you all so very much for supporting me thus far!! (Reblogs are appreciated :3)

[choerypetal]

Worthy / Logan Howlett

summary: Logan had insisted that you wear a dress for another of Wade’s parties over the weekend. Even though the request triggered insecurities, bringing back memories of feeling like a 'worthless' creature during your time at the Void, Logan saw you differently. In his eyes, you were more than worthy—a goddess to be worshipped.

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammatical errors. but hope you enjoy! xo'

Logan cherished these rare moments of peace. Wade's incessant chatter had long since become a burden, and with you joining the troupe, it only intensified his irritation. He often cursed himself for not keeping more liquor on hand to dull the noise. Yet, it wasn’t the endless talking that truly got under his skin—it was the way your beauty distracted him, even when you were fiercely defending yourself. He hated how his eyes were drawn to you, how you had a way of making him feel vulnerable, a feeling he loathed to admit.

It had only been moments ago when Wade graciously invited you to the dinner party, an invitation you accepted without hesitation. After all, you had helped them back in the Void, and Wade had made it clear he was forever in your debt for not showing more appreciation. Over time, this had blossomed into a friendship. But someone had other plans. The dinner invitation was merely the first move in a much larger scheme.

“They would look so cute together,” Vanessa remarked as she prepared dinner, Wade at her side. Fortunately, neither you nor Logan were anywhere near the apartment at that moment. You had called him about some dress issue, but his soft laughter on the other end suggested he wasn’t concerned. Wade knew that even if you were stressing, Logan would love whatever you chose to wear. “Y/N,” Wade’s voice came through the phone as you examined yourself in front your own mirror, turning and swirling to get a better view. A gift that didn’t go amiss when you arrived from work. Logan made sure of it. “He’ll love it. I know Logan’s not great with emotions, heck even choosing the dress he wanted you to wear, but trust me, he couldn’t stop talking about how excited he was that you’re coming tonight.” His words weren’t entirely wrong, and the thought made your cheeks blush a light shade of pink. “Also, please don’t tell him. But the dress was supposed to be a secret.” 

A smile tugged at your lips—typical Wade with his loud, boisterous manner. You heard another chuckle from him, followed by, “So do me a favor. If you two need the bed tonight, just ask.” The implication made your cheeks flush with warmth. “Wade!” you exclaimed in protest, your voice rising in defense. That was enough to catch the attention of the person in question—Logan. His voice came through, faint but unmistakably clear. “Is that Y/N?” he asked, the sound of a door closing in the background hinting that he’d arrived earlier than expected. Wade’s exaggerated scoff was audible on the other end. “No, not now,” he grumbled, clearly annoyed about Logan’s deed of wanting to talk to you. Urging to give him the phone. And you guessed it right— as moments before Wade could continue his perpetual complaints, Logan’s voice replaced his, calmer and oddly pleased to hear you.

“Hey, doll,” Logan greeted you with the nickname he’d first given you back in the Void, one he thought was a perfect fit. And apparently, it was, since he couldn’t seem to stop using it, despite your strict orders for him not to. Especially after you returned, yet he insisted. ‘He’s such a lover boy,’ Wade would often grumble to you. ‘For a Wolverine, I’m surprised he’s such a wuss for not making a move sooner. Shame,’ he’d continue, his complaints ringing in your ears. Then, with a softer tone, Logan asked, “Coming to tonight’s party?”

The hint of his voice carried all the signs of a man hopelessly in love but too afraid to admit it. You nod in response, even though he couldn’t see it, but the smallest "mhm" was enough to please him. You could almost feel his smile creeping in, as subtle as he tried to make it with Deadpool in the same room. “Good. Did you get the dress I ordered for you?” His voice was hoarse but reassuring. You let out another hum as you recalled your current state. The dress hugged your curves perfectly, the beautiful red hue complementing your skin tone. Nothing to complain about, but what if he didn’t like it? What if, despite buying it for you, the makeup was too much, or your hair… “Doll?” His voice pulled you back. With a soft chuckle, you regained your focus. “Yes?” you replied quickly, just in time for him to repeat the question, his chuckle echoing through the phone. “You’re coming to tonight’s party?”

“Oh! Yes, yes!” you stammered, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice. Logan’s brow furrowed in thought, and you knew that as soon as you set foot in Wade’s apartment, he’d likely start questioning you. No excuse or attempt at avoiding embarrassment would be enough to satisfy him. “8pm?” you tried to steer the conversation back to the party, not yourself. But Logan wasn’t satisfied. Still, he confirmed your plans. “Yes, doll. Are you sure you’re okay? I can always tell Wade that you and I would rather stay home. Or… maybe I could spoil my favorite doll.” His voice dropped to a deeper, more alluring tone, tempting you through the phone. You liked the idea, of course. Why hide the relationship when you could just be together? But something inside you still wanted to go. “No, I’ll be fine. 8pm? I’ll be knocking on Wade’s door.”

Poor thing. He pouted, pleading silently for your arrival. First Peter and the others had shown up, but 8pm came and went, and still, he waited, his patience fraying. Even his own pacing, usually steady, betrayed his growing impatience—something even Wade couldn’t help but notice. “You know,” Wade said, catching Wolverine’s attention, “if you keep pacing like that, she’s not going to get here any faster.” Logan knew that. He wasn’t stupid. But as the clock struck 8:30, his worry only deepened, sharpening his senses. “I don’t like that she hasn’t answered my call. She said she’d text before leaving, and she did. But now…” Wade’s annoying chuckle cut through the tension, earning him a sharp glare. “What’s so funny? She could be in danger.” Ah, typical Logan, Wade thought to himself.

"And if you’re so confident, why don’t you tell me where she is, huh? Clever one." Oh, he wanted to tell him. But Wade savored every second of Logan's unease. Watching the man who once met you at the Void, now as helpless as a lost puppy, was too satisfying. Even with his head held high and his arrogance intact, Logan was soft around you, and that gave Wade a glimmer of hope—for you, at least. Then the door finally opened, revealing you—but without the dress Logan had asked you to wear for tonight’s dinner. “Y/N…” Logan’s voice faltered the moment he saw you, a smile creeping onto your face as you met his gaze. “Logan.”

His gaze lingered over your silhouette, scrutinizing every detail. He had to blink twice as he moved closer, resisting the urge to let his hands find their way around your waist, hoping not to get caught. Fortunately for him, Wade, a man of his word, recognized that look all too well. The bedroom was the only option for the both of you.

Logan didn’t hesitate for a second to lead you there. He wanted to talk with you first, even as everyone greeted you with kisses along the way. But it was Logan’s intense gaze that unsettled you, something deeper lurking beneath the surface. He sensed something was off, catching the scent in every inch of your body. It was a temptation he was ready to taste, to explore if he had to.

As the two of you approached the bedroom and opened the door, you sat down, blinking in innocent oblivion. The way you looked at him almost drove him to madness. “Don’t give me that look,” he said firmly, as his thumb gently caressed your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. “Doll,” he murmured, his lips forming a disappointed pout. You knew the conversation wouldn’t end without addressing the missing dress. “Where’s the dress?” he asked, a hint of offense in his voice.

The truth is, you hated how you felt in that dress. Logan would tell you otherwise, of course—he always does. He worships you. But the constant pressure weighed heavily on you, leaving you feeling sorrowful. The days back at the Void had drained you, making you feel like you couldn’t resist his charm anymore. Not now that he was happy, free. “It didn’t fit…” you murmured.

A lie—one he knew all too well. After all, you couldn’t hide anything from him. No lie could escape his notice. “No,” he said, his gaze darkening as his jaw clenched, mind racing to the worst possibilities. Was she cheating? Deceiving me? Why am I feeling all of this at once? But he held back, letting you speak as he noticed your eyes beginning to water. You fought to hold back the tears, determined to prove your strength, to show you were still worthy of something.

“Doll…” His voice softened as he knelt down to your level, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. Your eyelids grew heavy at his touch, the tenderness you had longed for, not just since your time at the Void, but always. He felt it too. “Let it all out if you need to... I’m here.”

His words, like a gentle melody, were enough to make you break down. A soft sob began, soon giving way to a full breakdown. At first, Logan thought it might just be what you often referred to as ‘ladies’ problems,’ but his keen sense told him otherwise. He sensed something deeper, something more sentimental within you. His fingers gently cupped your face, and you managed to open your eyes slightly. “When you’re ready,” he said, pausing briefly as you gently wiped away the dried tears on your cheek.

“Was the dress too much? Did I do something—” you managed to let out a soft chuckle, which warmed Logan’s heart. Poor thing, he felt genuinely remorseful, and you couldn’t blame him, especially given your emotional state. You took a deep breath and exhaled, just as your mother had taught you. “I just…” you paused briefly. Logan’s brows furrowed in concern. Even though he didn’t say the words aloud, you understood his unspoken question. “I didn’t feel pretty… or worthy enough. For you.”

He couldn’t believe the words. You, not feeling pretty? How could you say that? To everyone, especially to Logan, you were like an angel sent from above. If it hadn’t been for Remy accidentally swinging his cards at you or you saving Wade’s skin just in time, he’d consider himself incredibly fortunate to have met you—and to have your scent near him. This was more than just a soulmate connection. “Hey…” His voice was warm and gentle as butter. As your eyes met his, he wiped away the last of the tears streaming down your cheek. “Don’t ever say that. You are my angel from the forgotten lands. Just the thought of not having you in my arms every night is unbearable. I know our relationship was meant to stay hidden until you were ready, but if this means embracing each other fully, I will. Just as you have done for me.”

Those words were enough to make you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the crook of his neck and inhaling his familiar scent. Oh, how you had missed it, just as he had missed yours. “You know,” his voice carried a playful note that made you arch an eyebrow as you pulled away from the hug. “Since Wade suggested…” His voice was tinged with desire, a longing for more, for you to be more than just his. Logan wanted you to be his soulmate. “While everyone else is probably too drunk to notice, though I doubt that, we could have our little game.” His breath grew heavier as his forehead rested against yours, his fingers gently caressing your arm, your lips almost brushing against his. The temptation was too strong to resist.

“But what if I get too… you know… loud?” A blush crept onto your cheeks as he chuckled. “I’ll try to be careful—” Just then, the door swung open with a loud creak, startling you. It was surprising how, in that moment, Logan’s focus seemed to narrow entirely on one thing: your scent. No one else’s. The sudden interruption came with Wade’s small gasp of joy, which made both of you exhale in relief. You gave Wade a soft smile. “Wade,” Logan said, his tone a bit arrogant as he closed his eyes and sighed, resisting the urge to give him a playful jab. “What is it?”

“Is it finally happening?!” Wade’s voice was loud enough to grab the attention of every guest in the room. Realizing his outburst, he quickly stifled himself and paused, glancing back at you. “The bed’s free, by the way. Have fun,” he purred, his tone making Logan mutter a few curses and toss a pillow in his direction.

“Now…” his focus returned to you. Despite his earlier annoyance, the Wolverine was determined to make you his and no one else’s. “Where were we, doll…” he murmured, leading you toward the bed, his lips finding yours. “Mine and mine alone.”

[ginnyruin]

Altered State by ginnyruin announcement:

TL;DR: I’m rewriting my fic and will be posting two chapters a week until we reach the new update, Chapter 55. I’m excited to share the changes, including new characterizations and scenes, and new artwork by Nurchie.

long message:

Hi everyone,

I’ve been working on a rewrite on and off since I took a break last year. There were times when I wasn’t sure I’d continue — burnout can be tough— but revisiting the old chapters slowly drew me back in. What started as fixing a few things I wasn’t happy with eventually turned into a full rewrite. 

I initially intended to release Chapter 55 without sharing the rewrite first, especially since I know some readers have been waiting for a continuation of the story. I really didn’t want to disappoint. However, I realized that wouldn’t do the story justice.

I thought it might be best to release two chapters a week until we reach the new content with Chapter 55.

Subscribers on Ao3 won’t be getting any emails about these updates.

Just one email when the fic is first taken out of the collection because Ao3 does that automatically, and another when Chapter 55 goes live. I’ll be updating the date of the fic whenever a new chapter of the rewrite is posted, so it may appear in the tags for anyone who’s looking for it.

I might post update news here... but I really don't want to annoy people.

I won’t be deleting the original chapter webpages (since I deeply treasure your comments), but for now, they’ll serve as temporary pages even if it's empty. I know the word count and chapter count might look odd, but I hope you all understand.

I’ve deleted and rewritten entire chapters, reworked characterizations (Abraxas Malfoy for one, is so much more the original Death Eater you expect him to be). The atmosphere has become a little darker, everyone is slightly more miserable, but there will be some more humor too. While the essence of the story and most of the narrative progression remains the same, it feels like a deeper, more complete version now.

I’m also incredibly excited to share that Nurchie has repainted some of the older artwork, adding new details that reflect how her art and the story have evolved together. She’s also painted some jaw-droppingly gorgeous, brand-new pieces for the rewrite scenes, which I can’t wait for you to see. I’ve been eagerly following her progress with each new piece, and her work never fails to inspire me. She’s also my beta reader and has been such a huge source of encouragement and joy, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Nurchie and I are both doing this purely for the joy of it in our free time. It’s a passion project for us, and we’re genuinely excited to share it with you. We’re not active on social media and aren’t making any money from this. It’s just something we love to create. 

Thanks so much for your ongoing support—whether you choose to revisit the rewrite or wait until it’s all finished, or not read the rewrite at all, I truly appreciate every bit of engagement. Your comments and thoughts here and on Ao3 have motivated me more than you know, and I’m excited to share this updated version with you.

[diddybok]

May I request a poly skz + reader, or just Minsung or Chanlix/Hyunlix if you want, totally up to you. Reader relatively new to the relationship and is trying their best to be the best partner to all parties, but doesn’t feel like it’s being returned. They feel like skz (or whichever ship you choose) is too into each other and not them, like the shiny new toy isn’t exciting anymore. One night, after everyone goes to sleep, reader gets their things and leaves without saying anything. You can change the plot a bit if you’d like. If you’re not comfortable with writing it, that’s ok!🩵

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: minsung x gn!reader

➩genre(s): angst, poly!skz

➩warnings: none

➩wc: 0.6k (655)

➩author’s note: sorry this took so long, i hope it was even a fraction of what you wanted!

➩part(s): next

You are exhausted. To put it plainly. You just don’t know how much more you can take. Of course you love the boys, you really do. However something has shifted, and not for the better.

First you started noticing small changes. When Jisung and Minho would come back late from practice, they would usually bring you a sweet treat followed by kisses and cuddles to make up for the lost time. Now it’s barely even a ‘Sorry we’re home late.”

You aren’t used to this, used to feeling like an afterthought in your own relationship. Then again, you weren’t quite sure how well it was going to go between the three of you. They were already so in tune with each other and then you came along.

They made you feel like the missing piece. The rarest jewel to add to their shiny golden crown. You didn’t think it was possible to be truly loved by two people, nor did you think you could love two people as much as you do them.

The tender care and appreciation that came from the both of them was nothing short of remarkable. The intimacy that was shared between the three of you was never overwhelming.

You love Minho. You love Jisung. They love you.

At least, they loved you.

When it was once you in the middle, being doted on each side by the boys you adored. You now reside on the outside as they cuddle each other, a pity hand resting upon your thigh.

When it was once you who ran you fingers through both of their hair as they melted into your touch. You now get told “You don’t have to do that tonight.” “You seem tired you should get some rest.” “It’s alright, I’ll do it for him.”

When it was once a trio. It now falls back into the familiar routine of when you weren’t even a blimp in their lives. Minho and Jisung against the world, oh and Y/n.

“Do you guys still love me?” You would ask timidly.

“Of course we do Y/n! Why would you think such a thing?”

You thought you had done something wrong. Why were they pushing you away? Even when you increased the amount of love you were giving them, you didn’t get anything back.

You were always at the tail end of the relationship. It only became clear to you now.

You still love them. Of course you do. How could you not?

But you are no fool. You are not one to be strung along like a little pet on a leash. You know when you aren’t wanted. When you, the jewel, were not quite glued in securely and fell out of the crown.

Perhaps it always looked better with only the two jewels. Perhaps you were there as a tester, to see what it would look like.

New and exciting, glamorous and beautiful. It was what they needed…until they didn’t.

As you lay at the edge of the bed, the two of them cuddling beside you, you quietly unwrap yourself from the sheets. You grab your already packed bag that was in the wardrobe.

They didn’t even notice your toothbrush was gone when they came home late and did their nightly routine.

Yes but they didn’t even give you a kiss goodnight.

You shouldn’t cry, but you can’t help the tears that cascade down your cheeks.

You know it is for the best. You need to put yourself first, your feelings first.

Which is why you place the key you had to the house on the kitchen island. You don’t look back as you walk out the door. Walk out of their lives.

Maybe that was what they wanted from you all along?

Maybe you just weren’t ready for something like this?

Or maybe you know your worth. You know you’re worth enough to be loved as much as you love.

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

taglist: @lyramundana

[thebadboyfanclub]

Gods Have Mercy (Daemon x Reader)

This was very particular but so much fun, I was listening to “God help the outcasts” from the hunchback of notre dame which is the whole vibe I’m going for. Please leave a comment about what you think I really do appreciate them. Hope you enjoy

Daemon felt like a fish out of water when he stepped into the Sept, a sea of candles and utter silence as the statue stood tall and stoic, its shadow could frighten a small child or command a common man to bow,

Hesitantly Daemon approached as he looked around to take in the small details, the dim lighting, and the smell of herbs burning, he was not accustomed to the routine of a man that came to pray, truly he was forced to even step foot in here, his brother the king commanded him after he was found on the side of the street naked after a 3-day bender on the streets of silk.

“Wonderful isn’t it? Just its presence brings goosebumps”

A woman’s voice startled him that came from behind, swiftly he spun on his heel to view the person that interrupted his thinking but also kind of knew what was he focusing at.

A young woman dressed in the usual gown of a Septa, as the light managed to shed some light within the room he could see her dark hues that reminded him of grass, her red plump cheeks, and pink lips, she was… beautiful, a concept that was quite foreign for someone that had hid behind the burden of a Septa.

“You are too young to be a Septa”

“You honor me, my prince”

“Why did you even choose this? Or was it forced upon you?”

“You can ask me all the questions you want it will not change the fact that you feel awkward within the walls of our sacred place”

She spoke the truth, Daemon shifted on his feet as he once again looked around to no actual aim, it was just to buy himself some time until he finds the proper way to respond.

“Honestly I am disappointed, I was told I would burn alive if I ever even walked past from here”

“The Gods guide, they forgive, they simply take you under their wing and protect their children that chose to follow their path”

“What happened to you? There must be something that forced you to have this mindset”

The Septa remained silent, she could sense the prince's urge to not only figure out what lay behind her mask but to also find a way to kill time, her guess was that he was not a common visitor, and judging by the comment he was not a follower of the faith either.

She simply walked past him and kneeled in front of the candles, she lit two of them and placed one in front of her and the other by her side, once she intertwined her fingers with one another she waited for him to follow.

“I promise nothing will happen to you if you kneel my prince”

Daemon scoffed at the Septa who called for him, howbeit he complied and with heavy footing and a little bit of grunting, he kneeled and mimicked her gestures.

“A few years ago I fell from the top of a whore house”

“What were you doing on top of a whore house”

“I come from a poor family, we lived near it and I wanted to know what was all the yelling coming from. I was bedridden for a full moon turn, I broke my hand and got an infected cut on my thigh, the fever was the worst part, yet all I could hear was my mother praying, she prayed to the mother to save me, she prayed to…. To take her instead, she offered her life for mine, so I prayed to the mother to spare us, to nourish me back to health, and in exchange, I would devote my life to the faith”

The Septa had not realized she had started to cry, the voice of her mother crying and begging for her child to be saved rung in her head to this day as clear as the sky. Daemon instinctively reached to wipe the Septa’s tears away, the love of a mother was always the strongest force, he could faintly recall his mother, such a spirited woman, he would often wish to feel her hug one more time.

“That is why I believe the Gods will listen to you, is there anything you have to say?”

“I lost my mother due to childbirth, if the Gods listened to you? Why did they ignore her?”

“We are all children of the Gods, some of us must stay and some must depart from the physical realm, you can still find her, in the gust of a wind, within the walls of the Sept, maybe in the silence of your chamber whilst you lay for the night, why don’t you try?”

“How to do I-“

“Just… listen”

Daemon stopped talking, he just waited for something, he did not know exactly what but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose and out his mouth making his shoulders relax.

(Y/n) could slowly pick up his facial expression change, his tough front slowly break and then came one tear, then a second, a minute after that came the first sob, slowly but in a steady pace Daemon went from a cold warrior to a boy that cried with his head on the lap of the Septa who allowed him to be engulfed by the vulnerability he had shoved at the very back of his mind.

Daemon was inconsolable, trembling like a leaf in the winter wind, (y/n)s heart shattered for the poor prince, all she could do was stroke his hair while he fought with the waves of emotions he had turned a blind eye to for years.

“I’m sorry”

“There’s no need to apologize, emotions are what makes us human, mayhaps the saying of Targaryens are closer to gods than to men is not deliberately true”

“What is your name?”

“I am (y/n), my prince”

“(Y/n)”

He whispered more to himself. The name tasted like honey in Daemon's mouth, without really understanding why Daemon smiled at the sound of her name slipping through his lips, it rolled off his tongue so naturally like he was meant to call for her, to meet her.

“Can I see you again?”

“The Sept is my home, my prince, I will be here”

Daemon visited her every morrow after he broke his fast, once he found her lighting some candles, he found her praying, a few times she would conversate with other visitors of the Sept, (y/n) would be there for him for as long as he needed, however, it would always be on arm's length, a veil of faith and celibacy kept them apart, (y/n) could not marry nor bare children, she would forever be a maiden dedicated to the Mother.

(y/n) had once professed her wish to help women with childbirth, perhaps be a midwife for the poor, her selfless act was astonishing to Daemon, a young lady that was so soft-spoken and kind that some would say she was the Maiden herself in human form that came down to serve the Mother, Daemon witnessed how others would yearn for (y/n)s encouragement, old women and men, even children would run to her and hug her, he could imagine what it would be like if their children ran to her arms.

“May the Warrior guide you and keep you safe my prince”

“Can I write to you?”

“It is not common”

“Would you get in trouble?”

“The followers can be close to us in any way they wish”

“Then I want to write to you”

“As you wish”

(Y/n)s heart skipped a beat at the pressing question of Daemon, she had prayed many times asking why the Gods send her such temptation, the kind prince that tested her oath every day with his gentle words and soft touch, the Father was resting her judgment there was no doubt about that.

“I- I want to give you this”

(Y/n) presented a small pendant that was the star of the seven, it wasn’t of value but (y/n) had prayed over it and begged the mother to protect Daemon, to wrap him in her cloak and keep him safe.

“It would mean a great deal to me if you wore it”

“Thank you, I shall bring it back to you, alive”

(Y/n) subtly looked around before she gave in to her urge and rushed into his arms for a hug, she might never see him again, war was cruel and the Stranger visited often if this was their last encounter then she shall at least know what his hugs felt like.

Daemon hugged her tightly, he feared for his life but mostly he feared that he might never be able to call for her again, to say her name and see her bright smile on every morrow.

“If I come back, I want us to leave together”

“Daemon”

“Please (y/n), see it as a sign, if I survive this then we are meant to be together, the Mother will protect me only if you agree to marry me”

“Do not use the Gods for a vile game”

“It is not a game, I-I love you”

“Leave, please”

“(Y/n)”

“May the Gods have mercy on your soul”

She simply dismissed him after she pulled away to turn her back on him, Daemon took a step but stopped before he took another, he could not see it but (y/n) was already tearing up, she felt her heart rip to pieces as his steps echoed less and less until they became nothing, the silence lasted only a minute before her sobs took over.

In a blink of an eye (y/n) kneeled in front of the candles, the burden was a heavy one for a girl, she had never experienced such a trial, she had almost looked the Stranger in the eye still this was the most difficult of all.

“I beg you, Mother, I beg the Gods, show me a sign, I do not know what to do, I am a mere mortal, help your child, if you can hear me, please help me”

She muttered in between her cries, she felt weak, unable to continue by the fear of making the wrong choice as she stood at a crossroads, was this union a blessing or a test?

Daemon fought fiercely during the day and at night he would lay and play with the pendant, twirling it around his fingers and sometimes even resting it on top of his lips, was she praying for him? Was she waiting for him? Did she wish to see him again? Questions raced in his head before the dreams took over and brought him the gift of imagination, his precious (y/n) playing with their children, 5 children, he could almost taste her but she was always slipping through his fingers, never enough time to hug her as tightly as he could.

(Y/n) was tormented, with bags under her usually bright eyes, sunken cheeks, and pain growing on her legs as her mother fell ill, with a high fever, (y/n) stood by her side until the very end.

“Go to him, my sweetling, he waits for you”

Her mother whispered before she left her last breath, (y/n) had tired herself from crying to the point that she did not know what was she even crying about anymore, was it the worrying over Daemon? Her mother's passing? The overall confusion over what her life has come to?

“(Y/n)?”

She brushed it off as her mind playing tricks with her now, she continued to pray along, it was the only thing that had kept her somewhat sane, the Gods had been cruel to her, not only did they take away her mother but Daemon has stopped sending her ravens if he was alive and well was unknown to her.

“(Y/n)”

Could it be? (Y/n) slowly turned her head towards the direction of the voice, there he stood, Daemon, her prince, his hair was short and he was skinnier than the last time she saw him.

(Y/n) wiped away her tears but remained kneeled, has she lost her mind? Was she seeing just a vision or was he truly standing there? Her lip quivered as they both stood frozen, waiting for the other to do something.

“It’s me, my dearest”

He whispered to reassure her. Daemon sensed her pain, her questions, and how she was afraid to make a step, he knew it well, they were times he could have sworn he saw her on the battlefield or waiting for him on his bed, and others he could hear her praying.

(Y/n) In an instant rose and ran to him, she fell in his arms as she was engulfed by a plethora of emotions that drowned but one overtook all, relief.

“You are alive”

“I made a promise, I needed to bring you your pendant”

She laughed between her sobs as she wrapped her arms around him one more time, squeezing the life out of him but he did not mind, her hug was the closest thing Daemon had felt when it came to religion, she was his church.

“I missed you”

“We must go”

“What?”

“Get us out of here before I change my mind”

“What has gotten into you?”

“Do you want to question me now that I am agreeing to your plans?”

Daemon could not contain himself anymore, before (y/n) could comprehend or respond his lips had crashed into hers into a deep, passionate kiss, soon his arms wrapped around her waist to bring her as close as humanly possible, it was (y/n)s first kiss.

“Let us leave before the Hods strike us for sinning”

-

(Y/n) and Daemon chose to make their home in Pentos, a beautiful free city that (y/n) had dreamed of visiting, they had eloped the day they landed, (y/n) wore a simple gown and it was the first time Daemon saw her hair, her beautiful mane that framed her face perfectly, she was his for the rest of their life and hopefully the next, how could a woman so perfect love a sinner like him?

The raven Daemon send to king landing to announce the birth of their first child angered the faith to no end, the rogue prince had lured a Septa and turned her to lust and sin, and whispers grew about their children being cursed, that they were all deformed and that is why they did not dare to come back.

Daemon shielded his family from such vile words, (y/n) was gracious to bless him with 5 children, 4 girls, and one boy, all of them beautiful, kind, and happy, (y/n) and daemon made sure of that.

Daemon had gifted (y/n) with creating a Sept for her after she gave birth to their first daughter, Elara, she had deep grey eyes like a wolf and dirty blonde hair like the color of a golden sunset, when Daemon walked in to find (y/n) holding their daughter after laboring for a full day he cried, his wife, his love, she created life.

“Thank you”

“For what?”

“For everything”

Then came their son Aeron, who came rather quickly and without fuss, (y/n) only felt some discomfort during her evening nap and the maester had just stepped into the room when the babe was crowning, he had his mother's eyes and hair as white as snow.

Adira gave everyone a surprise, she was not alone, she was with her twin sister, Naeva, who was frail and so small in comparison to Adira who was chubby and red-cheeked, (y/n) refused to leave Naevas side, she would spend her nights in a rocking chair by her cradle.

And then came their last little girl, (y/n) would often reminisce about the day that her children burst into the room after the labor to peak at their new sibling, Aeron was the first to hold her, and the little boy was in utter awe of the new sister, he had leaned to place a peck on top of the babes head.

“Mother, I was hoping I could name her”

“What do you suggest sweetling?”

“Avyanna”

“It is a perfect name for a princess, don’t you think so my love?”

“Indeed, it’s settled then”

Avyanna was a spitting image of her mother, except for the dark lavender eyes, she had even inherited (y/n)s hair which made her stand out from her siblings, she had a few blonde streaks but you couldn’t see them if her hair was pulled up.

Daemon was proud of his family, he patted himself on the back for being able to rise to the occasion and prove himself worthy of (y/n)s love, he took great care of his lady wife, anything his family wished for they had their feet.

(y/n) worried that the children will grow spoiled, she taught them the importance of sharing and the great value of gratitude through her faith that she never forgot, often she was seen attending orphanages and anyone that knocked on their door for help.

“Alright now settle down, this ceremony is sacred and serious, you must be on your best behavior”

“We know Mother”

“My dear, you have told them about it a thousand times now”

“I’m sorry, I am just-”

“I know”

Daemon brought his wife closer by the waist to place a kiss on top of her covered hair, she was dressed in all black like everyone else but you could understand that this meant more to her than just a funeral, it was their first time back in Westeros, the Targaryens had never seen their children, her heart beat fast at the mere idea of her little ones getting insulted or ridiculed in any way.

All of them remained close to their mother and father, Daemon held Avyanna in his arms, and (y/n) frowned as she caressed her daughter's cheek, she wanted to hold her but she was still sore, the maester advised her to refrain from lifting anything.

Naturally, Daemon led (y/n) to their chamber the minute the eulogy ended, he did not care about mingling or anything that had to do with people that turned their noses up on (y/n) and their children.

“You must rest”

“I feel fine”

“And you will feel even better if you lay down”

(Y/n) knew better than to chastise her husband on this matter, Daemon was an overprotective man especially when it came to her and her health, they had already had a fright he was not willing to take any chances.

“The strangers visit is the one I fear the most amongst the Gods, he sparred me once, now twice”

“And thrice if needed, I will not let them take you”

“It is not up to us to decide”

“It is up to us to be careful, you gave our family 5 perfect children that need their mother, we are in no need of another”

“If the mother gave us 5 why did she take this one? And the one before that, mayhaps-”

“(Y/n)”

“It is not pleasant I know but I constantly feel cursed”

“You are not cursed nor our children, let us not speak on this again, please”

(Y/n) did not verbally respond, she chose the route of getting up from their bed and reaching for Daemon to hug him, Daemon trembled at the thought of losing her, seeing her in insufferable pain and grief while blood stained the sheets was horrid, he could not imagine what (y/n) went through, of course, he wanted a big family but it was not worth the price of (y/n)s life, none of it would be worth it without her.

The vulnerable scene between husband and wife was interrupted by a knock on the door, Elara was white as a ghost and her hands were shaking, (y/n) feared for the worst at the sight of their distraught daughter.

“What is it dear?”

“Aeron claimed a dragon but he got into a fight”

“Gods have mercy, show me”

(Y/n) prayed as she walked to wherever her eldest daughter led them, she spotted Aeron from a mile away, her son sat in a chair next to another young boy who was getting his wounds tended by a master.

“Oh, my love, my sweet little boy, what happened?”

“I am fine mother, I’m unharmed”

“Gods be good”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around her son as tight as possible, Aeron was aware of his mother's fear of him and his siblings getting in harm's way, but he did not fuss over how tight she was hugging him quite the contrary after such an event he relished the familiar loving embrace of his mother.

“Yes the boy is safe but my son has lost an eye”

“I do not follow”

“Your son claimed a dragon while Aemond claimed Vhagar, your daughter and son were present when my son was attacked”

“Stole Vhagar”

“You cannot steal a dragon, little girl”

“Elara! Be respectful”

(Y/n) scolded her daughter who hunched over at her seat, (y/n) did not raise her voice often so when she did her children did not take it well.

“Queen Alicent, I trust my children allow me to ask them for the truth”

“Aemond, Elara, and I were wondering when we saw Vhagar, I pushed Elara to stay back and Aemond did not follow, he claimed Vhagar like Elara claimed Silverwing, when Aemond flew that’s when Vermithor came, I figured that if Silverwing came for Elara then Vermithor might be here for me, Elara and I flew with our dragons when we landed the only thing we saw was”

“Was what?”

“Prince Lucerys attacked Prince Aemond, he had a knife”

Elara finished her brothers' sentence, Elara was always brave and stoic, whilst Aeron was noble and level-headed.

(Y/n) hesitated, her children wouldn’t lie to her, if it happened as they say then it means her children could not have possibly interfered with the squabble nor saved Prince Aemond.

Daemon walked to his wife’s side and pancaked his arm around her shoulders for comfort, he could sense that (y/n) feared what to say, she did not want to upset nor make matters worst in front of the king and queen.

“My children are not responsible for the injury of Prince Aemond although it still is a grim affair”

“Grim affair? My son has been maimed”

“While Aeron was in the sky with his sister”

“They could have-“

“They could have what? My children are not fortune tellers nor do they have the eyes of a hawk to see what is happening on the ground”

Daemon defended his son and took a few steps towards Queen Alicent, (y/n) went back to her son to hold his hand in support of him, Elara got up from her seat to go over to the other side of her mother and hold her other hand.

Rhaenyra stood by her son's side as she watched Daemon defend his family, 10 years passed and he was a different person, now he had 5 children and a personality that Rhaenyra could not recognize, how he stood up for his son, how endearing he had been with his wife, how he completely ignored and avoided her, the Dragon had circled (y/n) and their two children, willing to do anything and go against anyone to keep them safe.

“This is a matter between you, my family had no part in this”

“They encouraged Aemond to go to Vhagar”

“They did no such thing, my children were playing and Aeron protected his sister, you can spew lies as much as you wish Alicent but I know the truth”

“Which is?”

“That my son claimed the dragon of a previous king and that is a matter for us to celebrate, you can kill each other for all I care, my wife and I will escort our children to their chambers and tomorrow my son will mount his dragon back home”

Alicent refrained from responding, even a Hightower knew that there was a line that she mustn’t cross when it came to Targaryens, Aeron had a dragon now, Vermithor flew just to find him, Daemon puffed out his chest before he also went back to join his family, with his one hand he guided his son to stand up on his feet and patted him on the shoulder.

“This is a blessing, my only son has a dragon like my eldest daughter, I will not let anyone taint this day for you”

“Thank you father”

“Queen Alicent, the Hightowers have always been a family that followed the guidance of the seven, the father is a just God, seek for his voice and find it in your heart to understand that our children are not responsible”

“Or don’t, the father will not be here to help you once you attempt to point your finger to my son”

Daemon hissed at Alicent, “how did these two even came together?” The queen thought, however it was as clear as day that she was stepping to dangerous territory, (y/n) was a pious person but even she could not save Alicent from Daemons aggressive nature, she could only offer a small way out before the inevitable happened.

Requests are open!

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 20

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: y/n & draco, character death, violence, general heavy themes, fluff, y/n & hermione are endgame , events follow canon (in theory)

Note: here it is.. the final chapter ! (technically it's not over yet since we still have the epilogue, which i will try my best to get out within the next week, fingers crossed)

i also want to thank you guys so much for being here. whether you just found this fic recently or you've been here since the beginning, i hope you know i appreciate your support so much. it's the reason we even got to this point! i'm truly going to miss writing this story, more than you know. especially considering it has been apart of my life for over a year now, which is crazy! but anyway, love you guys, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character @brocoliisscared @aki-ham @theheartwants-what-itwants

Hours since the Dark Lord and his followers had officially retreated. 

The sun was now steadily taking its position in the sky, illuminating the mortal world. Heedlessly enforcing the illusion that tragedy no longer looms over Hogwarts and all wizard-kind. 

That is, of course, as further as one could possibly get from the truth.

The atmosphere amidst the Great Hall unfailingly reminds everyone of a suffocating reality. It is thick with grief. Cold, dark and devoid of life– much like the dead that lay within it.

Hermione has yet to leave your side since you found a space to sit amongst the rubble. She continues to cling to you like a lifeline. Harry has been gone for hours, and Hermione, with a bit of coaxing, has finally stopped crying.

Ginny however remained hysterical– till her father was forced to subdue her with a Laxo charm. Still its effects wear off too quickly, and Ginny is far too vulnerable to justify repeated use. So her parents have settled with putting her to sleep instead.

She rests her head on Ron’s shoulder, blind and deaf to the destruction around her, even if only for a short while.

“Are you alright?” A foolish question, but Hermione, ever sweet and gentle, doesn't berate you for it. She nods, wordlessly slipping her arm around you before nestling her face into the crook of your neck. 

Hermione desperately seeks an escape through you and there is nothing more you wish to do than to give her just that. You want to be her helm in a sea of catastrophe, as much as she is yours.

Nothing matters anymore, only her. 

As you slip a comforting arm around your girlfriend, you take a scan of the hall, quickly regretting your decision to do so as you divert your eyes away from the row of corpses laid across the floor. 

It is then you spot a familiar face that causes your stomach twists even more, you are overcome with the sudden urge to wretch.

Draco appears just as pale and miserable as he approaches you. Gingerly taking a seat, cautious not to interrupt your embrace with Hermione. For what feels like an eternity, neither of you speak.

“I thought you left the castle with the rest of them.” You find yourself muttering, surprising Draco and especially yourself.

Hermione lifts her head, once she realizes you were not speaking to her. 

She takes notice of the platinum haired man next to you, and you feel her tense within your hold. Hermione’s expression visibly hardens, and you recognize that it would be smart to continue putting yourself in between her and Draco for the time being. 

“No, I– I couldn’t. My parents.. they were looking for me, but I– I hid.” Your best friend remarks, he is unable to keep eye contact with you. 

Guilt is ever corrosive, and it was consuming him alive. You see it in the very way Draco carries himself– so far removed from the person he once was.

Much like yourself.

It seems as though Draco is entirely expecting you to push some blame onto him. As if the destruction here today was caused solely by him. Though things are hardly as simple as that– besides, there is little reward in kicking a man when he is already down.

“At least you refused them. I know it isn’t easy.” You state. A feeble attempt to uplift him.

“Doing the right thing rarely ever is.” Hermione chimes in, as she puts her head on your shoulder once more. Her demeanor has softened, and in any regular instance, this might even fill you with joy.

“Does it even matter now? It’s too late.” Draco wallows, and a part of you wants to contend his statement, but that would also mean lying to him.

“And my mother and father– I’ve disappointed them.” He adds and now you let out a humorless chuckle. 

“We have that in common. Mine certainly aren’t going to acknowledge me as their daughter now.” You say, and your best friend almost seems comforted by the notion.

“Mine either.” Hermione quips plainly, her attempt at lighthearted banter only shatters you. 

You turn to place a lingering kiss against her forehead. Hermione accepts it as a faint smile plays on her lips, one reserved only for you.

‘As long as we stay together it'll be fine.’ You remind yourself for the dozenth time.

Draco sighs.

“There was no point to any of this.. it's all gone to shit.” He utters, exasperated, and Hermione nods in agreement.

Another chuckle slips out of you, this time from true amusement. Possibly from exhaustion or simply just a reaction to the ludicrous position you have all found yourselves in. You are sitting in what was once the Great Hall; the safest and warmest place in all of Hogwarts is now reduced to nothing but dust, piles of stone and death. 

You ought to be studying for your end of year exams, yet instead, you have been battling Death Eaters. 

People you considered friends have attempted to harm you more than once, and now it is not even certain if you would survive long enough to see nightfall.

Despite herself, Hermione begins to laugh with you. Draco only scoffs at this, he averts his gaze but you manage to catch the smile threatening to form on his face.

The moment does not last much longer as a noise in the distance abruptly steals your attention. The air in Hogwarts is no longer desolate, it has been awoken once more, and you quickly find out why.

Neville is first to rise off the floor, swiftly walking out into the courtyard. Students and teachers, reluctant but curious, follow suit. 

You leave Draco behind as you move through the crowd, Hermione quickly falls in next to you and Ron settles a few paces behind. 

Your worst fear is realized. 

They have returned, to finish what they started. 

A large army of Death Eaters approaches Hogwarts, the Dark Lord leads them at the front of the brigade. As they get closer, you notice Hagrid towering over the rest, he walks with something large in his arms.

Your face falls in horror once you make out exactly what it was he was carrying. Harry Potter, limp and lifeless. 

Hagrid held him as though he weighed no more than a feather. It is a devastating sight, but you can’t seem to look away. 

You feel the sudden urge to pinch yourself, to force yourself awake.

You are trapped in a grim nightmare, Harry cannot be dead. 

“No.” Ron utters your thoughts out loud.

Hermione is reduced to soft sobs as she turns away in distress, you feel compelled to pull her in for an embrace once more.

“Who is that, Hagrid’s carrying?” Ginny’s voice echoes through the courtyard. She is awake, only to be struck in the face with atrocity.

“Neville, who is that?” She calls, much louder and desperate.

“Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord responds to her question with glee.

“No– no!” Ginny cries, but she is quickly silenced with a wave of Voldermort’s hand, he forces her to the ground.

“Silence! You stupid girl.” He bellows as Arthur frantically helps his daughter back on her feet, dragging her as far from the enemy as possible.

“Harry Potter is dead, from this day forth, you put your faith in me.” Voldermort claims and he is only met with a stunned silence.

"Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord declares again in celebration turning to his followers. He laughs, maniacal and bone chilling. Death eaters soon join in, a roar of erroneous joy.

Blind rage gives Hermione the strength to finally look upon Voldermort, you release her from your grip, but maintain close proximity.

“And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us, or die.” Voldermort states, his arms outstretched– a forced gesture of welcome.

Once again, you can all only afford to stare at him in disbelief.

“Draco!” Lucius calls for his son angrily, and you only realize then that you’ve entirely lost sight of your best friend.

The crowd parts slightly, and you finally spot him at the other side of the courtyard, standing amongst Seamus, George and Dean.

“Draco.” Narcissa coaxes her son in a far gentler manner, but the distress and worry within her gaze is plain for you to see.

Draco stares at his parents for a prolonged moment and then turns to look towards you. Your breath hitches in your throat, the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he means to share the burden with you.

You manage to shake your head at him, signifying disapproval, but it seems he was not looking for advice, it was merely a look of remorse. He was just apologizing for something he was about to do.

Your shoulders slump in disappointment when Draco tears his gaze away from your own, he limps towards his parents, slowly, as if in a trance. 

“Well done, Draco, well done.” The Dark Lord embraces him stiffly for all to see, your jaw tightens when his stare lands on you.

Any fear you felt in that moment has been overshadowed by plain hot resentment.

“Y/n!” Your own father calls for you the same way, you can still feel the weight of everyone’s stare upon you as you refuse to budge.

“Y/n, come here, now.” Your mother warns, but it does nothing to convince you, if anything it has the opposite effect.

You feel Hermione’s hand slip into your own, motivating a streak of confidence.

“I am fine right where I am, mother.” You remark plainly, and you catch the way Voldermort clenches his pale gray hand into a fist for an instant before composing himself.

“Well, I must admit, y/n, I am very disappointed in you. I have no doubt your parents feel the same.” He states, and it works to gain a rise out of you.

However before you can retaliate with something reckless, Voldermort raises his wand to point it at you. “Crucio.”

The next thing you recall is the ground coming up to meet you, and trying to break your fall. A blinding pain that travels from your arm to the rest of your body.

Hermione is crouched over you as you continue to seize on the ground in sheer agony. 

“Stop it! Please, stop!” Your girlfriend's pleas fall on deaf ears.

You faintly hear Voldermort’s mocking laughter amidst your own gripes of pain. Certain you are about to faint, you clench your eyes tightly, but then, it all stops. 

Air violently floods your lungs, you feel the ground again, this time you recognize that you are laying firmly on top of it. You feel Hermione’s desperate hands clutching your body.

The Dark Lord looks upon horrified faces– he is using you as a warning. “I will say it again. Join us, else you will suffer a worse fate that y/n. So I invite you to step forward now.”

Hermione begins to help you back on your feet, but not before kissing your temple. She smoothes out your disheveled hair, a frantic effort to soothe you, or perhaps herself.

“Please tell me you're alright.” She pleads, an anguished whisper. You ignore the sharp pain still pulsating throughout your body to give Hermione some peace of mind.

“I am, I'll be fine.” You reply, taking her arm to resume your place.

Neville slips past you then, this sudden gesture is followed by a wave of gasps. 

You observed as he limped through the crowd and towards Voldermort, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Not Neville. Not him of all people. 

“I must say, I hoped for better.” Voldermort hurls the jibe, brusque and overconfident. The roar of laughter that comes from his followers only causes your scowl to deepen, it is a jarring noise, deeply unsettling.

“And who might you be, young man?” The Dark Lord asks, feigned geniality.

“Neville Longbottom.” Neville admits only for the laughter to come again. 

You shift your weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Hermione mistakes it for a sign you may collapse again so she moves closer, allowing you to lean on her; this only makes you want to weep. 

This isn't right. It was never supposed to happen like this.

“Well, Neville I am sure we can find you a place in our ranks–”

“–I'd like to say something!” Neville's voice bullies over Voldermort’s.

From the looks of it, this would nearly cost him his life, as Voldermort lifts his wand, almost like a reflex but he lowers it just as quickly.

With an air of composure, he responds, but his pretense is waning.

“Well, Neville, I am sure we are all fascinated to hear what you have to say.” Voldermort’s smile only makes him appear even more displeasing to the eye.

“It doesn't matter that Harry's gone.” Neville announces, and you instinctively look to the man in Hagrid’s arms.

This can't be the end.

Only half a heartbeat until you avert your gaze again.

“Stand down, Neville!” Seamus possesses enough gumption to warn his friend, but Neville brushes him off.

“People die everyday!” He insists.

“Friends, family..” Neville trails off.

Again, you feel compelled to keep Hermione close as you notice the way she has been pursing her lips to fight back more tears.

Ron can't seem to pull his eyes away from Hagrid, and his dead best friend.

“Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he's still with us, in here.” Neville continues, gesturing loosely to his chest, just above where his heart is.“So is Fred, Remus, and Tonks, all of them.”

“They didn't die in vain!” Neville shouts with a newfound confidence.

“But you will, because you're wrong!”

He challenges the Dark Lord, bold and open, and it makes you wince.

“Harry's heart did beat for us, for all of us!” He continues.

“So it's not over!” Neville exclaims, and the old hat he had been holding droops to the floor. Within it is revealed an unmistakable relic: the sword of Gryffindor.

He unsheathes the steel for all to see.

Then just as suddenly, the unthinkable happens. 

Harry slips out of Hagrid's hold, his body collapses to the ground, but he is not dead, he braces his hands on the ground before rising.

Harry Potter, alive.

“Merlin's beard..” You gape, and Hermione grasps your shoulder, then she laughs, shock and pure relief.

Harry sprints past the Dark Lord, quick, like a cat. He attempts to fish out Draco’s wand from his pocket but it slides past his fingers.

Harry isn't given the opportunity to retrieve it as he is forced to dodge the mania of curses being hurled his way. 

There is only chaos in the courtyard now as Death Eaters begin to disapparate by the dozen, abandoning their leader. 

Everyone else, desperately seeking shelter, out of the courtyard, back into the castle or elsewhere, anywhere away from harm. 

“Come on, we have to go.” Hermione drags you with her, but you turn back for a moment to watch as Draco bravely pushes past the chaos, picking up his wand, unbelievably, he tosses it back to Harry. 

“Potter!” Your best friend shouts just before you lose sight of him in the crowd. Although Harry catches the wand just in time.

“Confringo!” The Chosen One exclaims, Nagini writhes violently as the curse injures her.

The snake. You have to kill the snake.

Harry shares the sentiment as you get to the castle's doors, he falls in next to you, Ron and Hermione. “We need to kill the snake, I'll lure him into the castle.”

You merely nod in response, Harry continues to deflect the curses being hurled at the four of you.

“You'll need this.” Hermione says, retrieving the Basilisk fang from her bag.

The Dark Lord is rapidly inching closer now, fury has become him– yet he has never seemed so meek, utterly powerless.

He is losing, if he has not lost already.

Nagini is all he has left.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You anticipate it, but Hermione shoves you out of the way just in time as a mass of rubble comes crashing down from above.

You stumble, before coughing out a lung full of dust, squinting as it obstructs your vision. Hermione’s grip on your arm is the only thing tethering you to the present.

Harry bumps into you, just as disoriented. He has lost sight of Ron and worst of all, he can't see Voldermort. 

Another large crash causes you all to flinch, it didn't take long at all for the Dark Lord to find you once again.

Harry throws another curse, powerful enough that he loses his balance, the Basilisk fang unluckily slips out of his pocket, bouncing off the stairs and to the flat ground in front of you.

You reach for it, but before you can retrieve the object, the tooth disintegrates right before your eyes. 

“What–” You aren't given the chance to despair as Harry reminds you of an alternative.

“I’ll keep distracting him. Find Neville, he has the sword. Kill that snake.” He states, the sound of curses violently clashing masks his words, the Dark Lord remains oblivious to your plan, for now.

 “Let's try the Great Hall.” Hermione suggests.

“If we can even get there.” You quip, actively trying to work out a way through the rubble.

You follow after Hermione, and soon, Harry disappears through the thick wall of smoke and dust, purposefully luring Voldermort towards the Astronomy Tower.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Here, this way.” Hermione says as she steps through an opening and further down a flight of stairs.

Just when you both think you are out of danger, a noise stops you dead in your tracks.

You spot the large snake coiling around the bannister before slithering across a pile of bricks towards you.

Its hiss sends a shiver down your spine as you reach for your wand.

Hermione on the other hand, acts on pure instinct. Grabbing a piece of stone, she aims it at the snake.

It successfully clips Nagini on the side of her head, but this only succeeds in agitating the beast.

“Oh.” Hermione utters as the snake recoils, ready to attack.

You both lift your wands in preparation but the snake is hit again, this time by a larger curse that disorients it.

“Go on, I'm right behind you.” Ron emerges, 

pushing the both of you to continue on your search for the sword.

You only manage to get to the bottom of the stairs before Ron can be heard groaning in pain.

The snake had managed to trap him in its grasp, it was coiled around his body, an unsettling sight as it attempted to strangle the life out of him.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaims, chasing back up the stairs without a moment's thought.

“Stupefy!” She exclaimed, and the snake loosens its grip on Ron just enough for him to wretch free.

Hermione drags him to his feet and you can only watch in horror as the snake attempts to come at the both of them now.

“Incendio!” She tries again but the fire fizzles out as soon as it touches the beast, as if the snake was made of ice.

It is your turn to sprint up the stairs but the snake whips its head around, baring its fangs at you as warning. You halt abruptly, forced to keep a distance, grasping your wand tightly. 

Hermione shares a pleading look.

It is useless. There are three of you against Nagini, and yet you were helpless without the sword.

This is not going to work. The snake won't die. Distracting it will only mean seriously harming or even killing one of you.

Your mind reels, you frantically scan your surroundings, looking for a solution. 

Then, you are graced with a miracle. Neville appears behind you, barrelling up the stairs, panting, his face caked in dirt and dried blood. He has the sword of Gryffindor in hand.

Hermione let's out another scream that snatches your attention, the snake has attempted to come at them again, and again, Ron has now resulted in shielding your girlfriend with his own body.

You have to kill it now.

As you take another step, Nagini shifts her point of attack, now preparing to lunge towards you.

“Y/n– here!” With only seconds to spare, Neville tosses the steel in your direction. You quickly drop your wand before you manage to catch the sword by the hilt, still unaccustomed to its weight, you grasp it with two hands.

Just like handling a beater's bat, you swing it, firm and hard, slicing the beast across its body mid-air.

There is no blood, instead the snake explodes into a rain of thin black ash, it is unlike anything you have ever seen before. It is all you can look at as you let the point of the sword fall by your feet.

For a while all you can hear is the clang of metal hitting the ground and a faint ringing in your ears, muffled by the sound of your own heavy breathing. 

Neville's touch on your shoulder snaps you out of a trance. “It's over, it's done.” 

Enough sense returns to you as you shift your gaze towards Hermione. Her expression mirrors your own.

The four of you are miraculously alive, and the snake is dead.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

In the aftermath, it did not take much convincing for you to agree to join Hermione, Harry and Ron for a walk along the bridge.

Thankful for fresh air, the afternoon sun was also a welcomed feeling upon your skin, for the first time in days, it felt like you could breathe.

As Hermione struts ahead, you manage to grab ahold of her arm, forcibly tugging her closer to your own body. 

She then lets out a noise in surprise once you capture her lips with your own, but she melts into the kiss just as quickly, your hand slips to the small of her back as she opens her mouth wider to welcome your tongue.

You continue like that without care for a while, until Ron deliberately interrupts your moment by verbalizing his thoughts.

“Bloody hell, give it a rest, you two.” He remarks, but his tone lacks its usual malice as he clears a path by kicking away pieces of rubble. 

You grimace as you feel Hermione pull away from embarrassment.

“Fuck off, Weasley.” You retaliate, and for reasons unbeknownst to you, the sound of Ron's laughter makes you smile.

You part Hermione’s hair away from her neck, tilting your head slightly to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses along her neck.

She smells like sweat– but, in truth, it has never been an unpleasant scent to you. Nothing about Hermione was ever unpleasant.

Even now, sleep deprived and unwashed, she was perfect.

You notice the way Hermione trembles at the sensation of your warm mouth upon her flesh.

It only works to entice you further, but before you can kiss her again, Hermione displays some semblance of self control. 

She braces her hands on your chest, shoving you lightly. “Not here.”

With a pout you meet her gaze and she only rolls her eyes at that, before rewarding you with a quick peck on the lips. 

“We both could use a bath later.” Hermione mutters suggestively, running her fingers through your hair.

A smirk tugs on your lips at that, but before you can retort with something clever, Hermione's gaze shifts to Harry.

The Chosen One stood at the edge of the bridge, where there was once a bannister, now just a stump of concrete and marble.

Harry is observing the wand in his hand as Hermione addresses him. “How come it didn't work for him, The Elder Wand?”

“It answered to somebody else.” Harry replies, turning to look at the three of you.

“When he killed Snape, he thought the wand would become his. but the thing is, the wand never belonged to Snape.”

“It was Draco, who disarmed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, from that moment on, the wand answered him.” Harry explains, looking down to inspect it once more.

“Until, the other night, when I disarmed Draco at Malfoy Manor.” He continues and your eyes widen at the realization.

“So that means–” You gape, and Hermione turns to you in disbelief.

Harry nods. “It's mine.” He states, nonchalant as ever.

“What should we do with it?” Ron inquires, and Hermione merely grimaces.

“We?” She scolds.

“Ron's right, I mean, that's the Elder Wand. Most powerful in the world, with that, you'd be invisible.” You remark in support, now Hermione directs her scowl towards you, and you shrug innocently.

Although your expression twists once your gaze flits to Harry once again, he grunts as he struggles to break the wood in half.

You advanced forward to intervene, but it was too late. The wand snaps in two, like a twig. 

Harry turns around, chucking pieces of the most powerful wand in existence off the edge of the bridge.

You chase after it as far as your eyes can see before it disappears, forever.

“What the fuck–” Ron mutters under his breath in shared disbelief, yet Hermione only watches the both of you with amusement.

Then she grabs you by the collar, dragging you away from the ledge.

You are forced to follow as she falls in next to Harry, strolling back to the castle. 

Resisting the urge to confront Harry about what he had just done, you drape an arm across Hermione's shoulder, she welcomes it, intertwining your hands as you walked.

“I'm starving.” Ron remarks, trailing behind you. An effort to shift to a different, much simpler topic of conversation. 

“So am I.” Hermione replies.

“Yeah.. reckon The Three Broomsticks are still open?” You joke, and Harry is first to laugh, followed by your girlfriend and eventually, Ron.

You allow yourself a smile, it is one of relief. You relish in a careless joy you once thought you'd never get to experience again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Made For Him XI

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, blood and gore, violence, death, grief, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Peter finds himself alone after the loss of those around him, so he decides to find a cure to his grief.

Characters: Peter Parker

Note: I really wanna power through this one.... Masterlist HERE.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.

Love you all like Garfield loves lasagna. Take care. 💖

You shivered but not because you were cold. You didn’t feel the temperature. You didn’t feel what they felt. You were not one of them. Yet you were scared. Terrified to the point of shaking. 

Now you knew what you were and they did too. The world saw you and they rejected you. They saw what you were. A monster. Yes, that’s what you were. Peter would never tell the truth but it was what you were. He lied. About everything. 

Your chest hurt but you didn’t know if it was truly your heart. It wasn’t your heart! None of it was yours. The hands did not match the arms, and those did not match your shoulders or torso. Even your face did not belong. Every part of you was wrong. 

You sunk down and wrapped your arms around your head. You hunched as you bent your knees to your chest, the sea crashing loudly right outside the cave. The taste of salt stained your tongue and nose. You sobbed as the nightgown absorbs the dingy smell of the coast. 

The water thrashed in the dark, the moonlight twinkling on the waves. You looked once then not again. There was a flicker of something that peaked your fear. That thought of walking out into the black ripples and never emerging. You shouldn’t be alive but you were. The idea of what would come after trapped you in this cursed existence.  

He made you a monster and a coward. 

You stayed in the cave. There was nowhere else to go. If you left, you would be seen and they would scream again. They would look at you with those cruel eyes and whisper in their horrified tones. They would chase you again and if they caught you, you didn’t know what they would do. 

The night faded to dawn. Only then, did you peer out from your hiding hole. The sun looked warm but you could not feel its rays. Your body was slick with the humidity and heat and yet you could not recognise what made it do so. You are defunct. Inhuman. Unwanted. 

The waves continued their ebb and flow. Not so loud as the night time, calm even. You sat against the craggy wall and counted the scars on your hands and arms and legs. Peter taught you the numbers and now you can use them to know all that he did to you. 

Voices wafted in the wind and drove you deeper into the shadows. The rose and fell, hooting, hollering, laughing. Together. All as you sat alone and listened. As you hid from them, too afraid to look. 

Yet, you could see the sea. You saw a boat with a light the night before you found the cave and it floated again in the bright day. The lights were off but it remained, trawling around the waves. You followed it with your gaze until the sky dimmed again. The light came on and fanned the water, an orb floating off in the distance. 

You stood, limbs stiff, and turned to the depths of the cave. You could go deeper and see what lurked within. To leave wasn’t an option. What was within could not be as bad as what was outside. 

Day appeared from behind the azure sea. You resumed your place against the wall. The birds squawked harshly and people stirred on the coast. Their voices grew closer and you kept still. If you sat there long enough, you wouldn’t have to choose. That thing Peter called time would make that decision. Like in the movies. 

A hiss drew your attention to the mouth of the cave. You looked over and gave a start. The small people pointing in at you reeled and ran away. You scrambled on your knees and crawled further into the dark, not enough to lose the light. You hate the dark! 

You hid behind a jagged rock and the voices returned. This time more. You didn’t move. They left only as the light did.  

You peeked out and saw nothing but the silver moonlight flowing in. You stood and slowly came closer to the pale shine. You could not bear to remain in the lifeless slate behind the rock. 

You touched the wall and stared out. The thought of getting closer, of seeing past the walls, tugged at you but could not coax you further. You leaned into your arm but before you could sit, you heard the shift of sand. Were they still there? Waiting? Would they bring fire like in that movie? 

“I won’t hurt you,” the voice stopped you before you could even try to flee. You stand straight and rigged, gripping the ridge in the cave wall. “Can you hear me? Do you understand me? I won’t hurt you.” 

You shivered and a piece of the wall came off in your hand. You let it drop heavily to your feet. You searched the open mouth of the cave. There was no one there. 

“I hurt you,” you said back. “Go.” 

Silence. You wondered if your mind was going bad like a movie you watched. You peer off into the night. Waiting. 

“You didn’t hurt anyone before. So why would you hurt me?” The deep voice rose again. 

It was real. 

“If I not hurt, then why are you hide?” You uttered. 

Another shift, a step. The shadow emerged from beside the cave and stood in the open space, between you and the sea. Big and tall. You had never seen someone that large. 

“I won’t hide then.” 

“Why here? Why bug me? I don’t want.” 

He lowered his head and took a breath. “I’ve been watching you. Keeping you safe. This place will not stay safe.” 

“No safe. Nowhere safe.” You said. 

He was quiet again. His posture straightened, “are you hurt?” 

“Hurt. Inside.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he raised his hand and light bloomed from it. He held something that glowed. “You can see me. See...” he spread his other hand, “I have nothing.” 

You shielded your face and backed away, “no look. Ugly.” 

He didn’t move. He seemed to lean in. “All I see is a scared woman. All alone.” 

“What--” You began and stopped, frowning as you struggled to sort your words. “What are—Who? Who you?” 

“My name is Steve. I... I’m a soldier. I help people. Lost people.” 

A swell pounded in you and made you lurch. You flailed your arm as you could barely contain the energy. You were confused. Even more scared. 

“I don’t know what is. Soldier.” 

“I protect people,” he assured. “What about you? What is your name?” 

You eyes rounded. You didn’t have a name. Peter called you precious but you don’t like him anymore. You looked down and hugged yourself. You might not have been pretty but you wanted a pretty name. 

“Audrey,” you answered. That was the best name you knew. 

“Audrey,” he lowered the light so you could see him behind it. 

He had hair like gold and a sharp jaw. His eyes were so blue, like the water in the sunlight, and his expression was... kind? You thought. Or wanted to. 

You looked behind you then at him. There was no way out. He was big. 

“I in trouble,” you said. “I didn’t mean to do bad.” 

“No one was hurt. Just scared. Like you. I just want to get you out of here. The nights are cold, aren’t they?” He asked. 

“I--” you couldn’t tell him you didn’t feel it. “Yes.” 

“And you must be hungry? You don’t have food.” 

The suggestion twitched in your stomach. The loud groan couldn’t be suppressed as it rippled from your stomach. You looked down and back up. 

“Not... not your... not your...” you could not put your thoughts out right. “I me. Not you. I stay. Be alone.” 

“You can stay but not alone.” 

He stepped into the cave and you pushed yourself against the wall. You watched him as he ducked through and he turned to face you. He lowered himself down to the ground and sat. He looked at his hand and turned off the light. He rested the thing it came from down beside his leg as he bent it. 

You stared and tapped your fingers on your legs. You didn’t know what to do. He would not leave but you won’t either. You slowly sat and watched him. He looked back and did not flinch. 

“You not scared?” You asked. 

“Of you?” 

“I scaring. I... look... wrong.” 

“I’m not scared, but I know you are,” he leaned back into the cave wall.  

You dipped your head and stared at your feet. You brought them in to hide under the nightgown. You didn’t want him to see that all of your is hungry. 

You didn’t say anything else. This stranger, Steve, stayed silent and still across from you. You couldn’t guess why he would stay. It was only as the night crashed on with the water that he began to slump. After a while, his breath evened out. He slept as you were stuck awake. 

You could have left him then. You didn’t. When the morning came back, he stirred and rubbed his eyes. He flinched and sat up but relented as he found you. Just as you were. 

“You tired. You been waiting for me long time.” 

He nodded, “I did wait. I didn’t want to frighten you.” 

“Then I go with you. You lock me up and no one else be scared.” 

He frowned, “I’m not going to lock you up.” 

“It okay. You should. I don’t belong.” 

His forehead lined and he let out another thick breath, “I won’t.” 

“Then what. Kill?” 

His eyes widened, “no, I don’t-- don’t do that.” 

You blinked and turned to look out at the water. 

“I go but not be saw. No see me.” You grew frustrated as you tried to find the right way to say it. “I hide from people. So not scared.” 

“Alright. Will you wait here?” 

“I been waiting. All night.” 

He swallowed and stood. He gave you a long look before he turned away. He left and you turned your attention to the pocked wall. You didn’t know if he was telling the truth but you knew you couldn’t stay. 

When he returned, he had a bag. He handed you clothes. A pair of rough pants and a big sweater with a hood. You thanked him and then he gave you something else. A bag of nuts and other goodies. 

“Thank you,” you examined the food. 

“Not much but I have more waiting,” he explained. “We should go now before anyone else is around.” 

You tucked the bag of nuts in the pocket of the sweater and pulled up the hood. You slipped your hands up the sleeves to hide the scars. You faced the mouth of the cave and the big unknown. There was a whole world out there and no place for you there. 

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 18, Unread - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary:��When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, betrayal, mentions of sex, mentions of violence, threats.

Word Count: 1.9k

Previously On...: You saw something on Bucky's phone that changed everything.

A/N: Here it is-- the final betrayal. I'm sorry. It can only go up from here, right? LOL no.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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“Care to tell me why we’re meeting in an unused guest suite on a floor that’s mostly under construction?” Nat asked when you opened the door of your borrowed new room to let her in. You didn’t utter a word, just thrust a copy of the text screenshots into her hands and sat down at the edge of the unfamiliar bed, waiting for her to read them.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Just read it,” you told her, voice devoid of any emotion.

Natasha scanned through the messages, her eyes widening in shock and disgust as she made her way through them. “This has got to be some sort of sick trick, right?” she asked you when she’d finished. “Like, Carthage found some program online to make up fake text messages and sent them to mess with you. Barnes would nev–”

“I screenshotted them off of Bucky’s phone, myself, Nat,” you informed her. 

There was a knock on the door and Nat opened it to reveal Wanda. “I came as soon as I could,” the other redhead said. “Why are we having a secret meeting?” Nat handed Wanda the screenshots and came to sit next to you on the bed while she read them.

Wanda’s hand flew to her mouth. “No,” she whispered, looking back up at you. “How could he? There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No mistake, Wands,” you said, standing up to take the pages from her. “It’s all right there, typed out by the man himself.” And then, as if to punish yourself further, you began to read out loud the text between Bucky and Jade:

Vix <3: Hey there, handsome xoxo

Vix <3: Bucky?

Vix <3: You just going to ignore me after everything?

>> How are you texting me? You're supposed to be blocked.

Vix <3: You should keep better track of your phone, then ;) 

Vix <3: Or, at the very least, choose a better passcode.

>> What do you want?

Vix <3: I want to talk about what happened the other night.

>> Nothing happened.

Vix <3: Come on now, we both know that's not true ;)

>> It was a mistake. I should have never done it.

Vix <3: You don't make a mistake two separate times, Barnes.

>> Well, I did. And I regret it.

Vix <3: You didn't seem to regret it when you were blowing loads of cum inside of me.

>> Jesus Christ, Jade. You don't have to be so fucking crass about it.

Vix <3: I thought you liked girls with dirty mouths.

>> Jade, I have a girlfriend. She’s the only one whose mouth I like dirty. Or at all.

Vix <3: That's right, your Perfect, Precious Pocket.

>> Do not talk about her.

Vix <3: Oh please. Don't pretend you care about her now.

>> I love her.

Vix <3: You have a funny way of showing it, sleeping with me just a day and a half ago.

>> She is EVERYTHING to me.

Vix <3: Obviously not.

>> I thought she slept with Steve.

>> I was a fucking idiot.

>> It was a misunderstanding.

Vix <3: Orly? That how she's going to see it?

>> She's not gonna find out.

Vix <3: You think you can hide the truth from her? Please.

>> The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

Vix <3: Should have thought of that before you fucked me. Twice.

Vix <3: If you don't tell her, I will.

>> She'd never believe you. She fucking hates you.

Vix <3: I don't need her to believe me. I just need her to see these texts.

>> You wouldn't.

Vix <3: Try me. You don't want to fuck with me, Bucky.

Vix <3: Tell her the truth or I will.

>> I swear to god, Carthage, you breathe a word of this to her and I *will* fucking kill you.

>> That is not an idle threat.

>> Ending your life would be as easy for me as breathing.

Vix <3: You wouldn't.

>> Do you want to try me?

>> Because I promise you, she is the most important thing in this world to me, and if you threaten that, I will end you without losing a wink of sleep.

>> You know what I'm capable of. Don't test me.

>> Do you understand me?

>> I said, do you understand me?

Vix <3: Christ, yes, Barnes. I understand.

Vix <3: I'll keep my mouth shut.

Vix <3: But you're a real piece of shit, you know that?

>> You're not telling me anything I don't already know.

Vix <3: I'd be so fucking good to you if you just gave me a chance.

>> Not happening. And if I find out you even insinuate to Pocket, or to anyone, what happened in Russia, it will be the absolute last thing you ever do, and no one will ever find your body.

Vix <3: I already told you, I won't tell your Precious Pocket. I'm not a liar.

>> Good. We're done. I'll speak to Steve about having someone else take over your training.

Vix <3: WHAT?! You don't have to do that!

>> I can't be around you anymore. I don't want to be around you anymore.

Vix <3: Temptation too strong? Afraid you'll make another 'mistake'?

>> Fuck you.

Vix <3: You already did, baby xoxo

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Wanda whispered when you’d finished reading. “Pocket, honey, are you alright?” She looked at you as if she were terrified you were going to break. And maybe the old you would have. This new you, the one that was forged under rage and ice, was made of harder, crueler stuff.

“I’ll live,” you said. Nat and Wanda exchanged a glance that didn’t escape your notice. “What?” you snapped at them.

“Hey,” Nat said, “Don’t get mad at us; we’re just worried about you. The last time he pulled something like this, you were a mess. This,” she indicated the sheets of paper you still held, “is way worse, so forgive us for expecting you to not be okay.”

You sighed and slumped down into a nearby chair. “I’m sorry, guys,” you said. “Obviously I’m not okay, and it’s not fair of me to take out my frustrations on you. But this time is different. Before, I was devastated, I was sad. But now? Now I’m fucking pissed. It’s like every ounce of love I felt for him has been turned into pure, unadulterated hatred, and all I want is for him to fucking suffer. I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.” Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but you interrupted her before she could. “And I know that’s not healthy, Wands. Trust me, I know that. I’ve just never been this angry before in my entire fucking life. God, not even at fucking Darren.”

“Who’s Darren?” Wanda asked, but Nat shook her head at her.

“Not now,” she said.

“I don’t even want him dead,” you continued, voice rising, as though Wanda hadn’t spoken at all. “Death would be too good for him! I want him to feel pain, pain like he has never experienced before in his long, utterly useless life!”

“Pocket,” Nat warned. She knew you were dangerously close to saying something you might eventually come to regret.

You sighed, the rage fleeting and leaving you feeling hollow and broken. “I know,” you said. “I don’t really mean it. I’m just so goddamned hurt!”

“I know it’s difficult to believe this right now,” Wanda said, taking a step closer to put a hand on your shoulder, “but he does still love you– he said he—”

“No,” you interrupted, sounding every bit as defeated as you felt. “You don’t do that to someone you love. You just don’t. This morning, he talked about getting our own place, getting married, starting a fucking family.” You choked back your emotions, but your voice still cracked. “I thought he was ready to take things to the next step, to prove how much I meant to him, but he was just trying to distract me, trying to get me out of the Tower because he couldn’t risk me running into her, couldn’t risk her telling me the fucking truth he was too much of a coward to admit.”

Nat and Wanda looked from you to each other, lost in their sense of helplessness, of not knowing how to care for you in your time of need.

“You know,” you went on, “I probably would have forgiven him, if he had just straight up told me the truth. I mean, we weren’t even technically together, so it wasn’t cheating. If he’d said ‘I’m sorry, Pocket. I saw those articles and I went fucking crazy with jealousy. All I could think about was getting back at you because I thought you betrayed me.’ Yeah, I’d have been pissed, and it might have taken a while, but I could have forgiven him if he had just been fucking honest with me. That’s all I ever asked of him. That he just be fucking honest. But he’s lied to me, again and again and again.

“He took away my right to make an informed choice about my own fucking life,” you said, and this time, the emotions couldn’t be held back. “He of all fucking people should know what that feels like,” you sobbed. “He should know how valuable that choice is! How valuable it is to me!” And there it was, really, the crux of the matter. He knew how much you valued the freedom you now had over your own life, after so many years of not having any choices in what happened to your own body, and he’d stolen your ability to make a choice for yourself. He’d had sex with you, knowing you never would have consented if you knew he’d been with Carthage less than 24 hours prior. He’d violated so much more than your trust this time.

Nat stood up and raced over to you, throwing her arms around you. Wanda looked on for a moment, confused, before joining Nat in embracing you.

The entire time you’d been speaking to your friends, your phone had been silently vibrating. You’d turned the ringer off as soon as you texted Nat and Wanda, asking them to meet you. You didn’t need to look at the screen to know that it was Bucky who was trying to get ahold of you. If you’d been in a better frame of mind, you’d have laughed at the irony– here you had spent all day yesterday waiting on a text or call from him that never came, and now he was blowing up your phone and you couldn’t stand the thought of  speaking to or hearing from him. Life was sure funny sometimes.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Maximoff,” FRIDAY’s voice rang through your borrowed room. “Mr. Stark is requesting everyone’s presence in Conference Room C for a mandatory pre-mission briefing to begin in ten minutes.”

“Fucking Tony,” you moaned. A mandatory meeting meant a mandatory encounter with Bucky, and you were so not ready for that yet.

“Don’t worry,” Wanda said, squeezing your hands. “Natasha and I won’t leave your side. He won’t be able to get near you. I’ll put a forcefield up around you if I have to.”

You managed to sniff out a laugh and wiped your nose. “Thanks, Wands. I really appreciate it.” Steeling yourself, you stood up from your chair. “Let’s go see what Tony wants.”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[thehighpriestexx420]

Their True Self's Feelings VS. Their Ego's Feelings About You

General Collective Pick-A-Gif Tarot Reading

Our True Self is the version of us WITHOUT the programming society has instilled in us and/or the programming our physical body came with. It's your soul, your spirit, your higher self. My experience with my true self can only be described as what feels right.

The Ego can be used as a tool for your true self to use or you can fall under the automatic habits it provides. It's our mind. The brain filter that allows us to perceive reality - more commonly the reality that's physical.

My intention was to pull cards into 2 columns. One to represent their true feelings and the other to represent their ego's. I've found that the message worked when I looked at all of the cards together. If you can discern the cards can be read the way I intended with your specific situation, feel free to let me know!

Take a moment to yourself. Step back from any distractions on the outside & within your mind. Take a clearing breath. Focus your attention within yourself & what you sense. Which gif calls out to you? If it's more than one, than there are multiple messages for you.

Take what resonates and leave the rest. Be aware that the future is malleable - you can choose to follow your true self or any toxic programming you've picked up. The results will follow.

💖 New followers & those who reblog the linked post below 👇 get a FREE one question tarot reading & reiki healing session. Paid services are same hour, first come first serve, & guaranteed between 8 am - 9pm 💖

✌️ Tips are also always appreciated! Help me continue helping you by providing me with funds to purchase new decks & stuff that keeps me alive 😊 Cashapp: $coltonicholas ✌️

Pile One :

Their soul is calling them to approach you & express their romantic interest. However, there's something that happened between you that's caused them to stop & truly think about this decision.

They're trying to discern how they can balance their self-love & their love for others. They don't want to get hurt again but they also don't want to miss out on their desired connection with you.

The Universe is telling them the time to approach you is now & that they're extremely supported in this. In fact, this is a part of both of your life's purpose. It's destiny. Every aspect of existence is weaving the path to make this happen.

But they're currently being held back and stalling due to doubt & the fear of hoping just to be hurt & disappointed again. As in, they feel this desire of theirs is too good to be true. Their non-action is out of fear & self-preservation.

Pile Two :

They're not seeing the results they're looking for in this connection. There's impatience. They're looking for answers outside themself rather than within.

You may be dating & haven't made things official yet. They're questioning if you're as invested in this connection as they are because of this. They could be feeling the strong desire to marry you, and yet, aren't seeing these results.

They may be overly focused on the material/physical & not enough on what their soul is saying. They want a successful home life with you while not feeling at home within themself. They cope with this feeling by indulging in distractions. Propping their ego up, shopping, bragging, etc.

They need to be more calm, nurturing, & patient. They feel the need to rush ahead while not considering others enough.

They're overly concerned with others' opinions. They want to be able to say that you're theirs & not fear people questioning the validity of your connection. It's the vibe where people have been in years long engagements. There's often doubt from others and within the connection. "Are they not sure if they want to get married, is it going to happen, etc."

Pile Three :

They're being held back by confusion, the pressure to conform, & structure. It's like they're lost in a land of illusion. They're unable to move on due to this belief they must uphold these rigid rules.

"If it's not broke, don't fix it" is a saying that comes to mind when describing this person's mindset.

They don't want to adventure outside of these old habitual ways of thinking. The unknown is unstable & unpredictable.

Despite this, their soul is desiring a union with you & they feel it - the urge to reach out. Their ego is blocking them from seeing a way forward with you.

For some of you, they want to propose but something is leading them to believe it's not possible. There's a clashing - 2 opposing forces that "shouldn't" go together. So this can look like having a religion where you're "supposed" to be with a member of the same religion, a family disapproving of same sex marriage, or some other value/belief that doesn't approve of your marriage/union.

They've had unhealthy examples of relationships growing up so this also distorts how relationships are "supposed" to look like to them. There's some kind of codependency between you two. Like you're both chained to these toxic belief systems. Change your mentor/who you look up to & set yourself free.

Pile Four :

There's this idea - this hidden gem in their heart. I'm seeing that they need some time away from the distractions of the world so that they can look inside themselves to see what this bright, burning, blossoming passion really is before they offer it to you.

They're scared of things not working out because they haven't seen any indicators it would. Their heart is closed off & as a consequence it blocks them from receiving what they desire. That includes the positive interactions from you that they're looking for.

But I'm seeing that this beginning between you is bright, beautiful, & promising. You both can try to hide what you're feeling, but it's too powerful to be ignored anyway.

I'm seeing that you both share a heart/the same feelings. This connection is within your core. It's designed to free you, reveal your true self, heal you, & to assist you with growth. For some of you, this is your divine counterpart/twin flame. For others, it's a strong soulmate connection.

[lurkingshan]

Cherry Magic Episode 12

MY HEART IS FO FULL. This adaptation has exceeded my wildest expectations to become one of my favorite bls of all time. They really put their backs into it and gave us everything we could want for these characters, and I will always be grateful. This show managed to be a faithful manga adaptation, a loving homage to the jbl, and a fresh take on the story all at once. An amazing feat to pull off and this creative team deserves so much love and kudos.

The way Achi and Karan have grown together over the course of this show has been fantastic to witness. I love how seriously the show took their growth, and that we got to see them put in the work to improve their communication and become a great team. Meeting the parents was a big step for them, especially because they were uncertain how their respective families would react, but I loved that they were so open with each other throughout about how they were feeling. I loved, too, that we got a contrast, with Achi's mom being so warm and loving (but still managing to get a dig in on her son, lmao) and Karan's being more avoidant and passive aggressive and needing a talking to her from her eldest child to get her shit together. I love that the drama created space for things to not go perfectly with the parents, and to show us that people can be moved to acceptance.

We got a bit of a parallel with that message in Jinta and Min's story this week, with Min's fans initially attacking Jinta, but backing off once Min named him as his faen and asked them to respect his relationship. I like the choice to model positive fan behavior, and it felt a bit pointed from this production company. Both with Pai and now with this new group of fans, the show has said consistently that being a fan should be about love and support, not control. That you can admire your idols but you also need to give them privacy. That it's not your place to judge who they love. I just love that message.

Of course, I have to talk about the mutual proposal and the wedding. I am pretty sure Karan has been carrying that ring around in his pocket since the second day of dating, but it was such a welcome surprise to see that Achi had already made his own plans, too. The show really succeeded in taking this relationship from something that felt a little one-sided to a very mutual partnership I can believe in. I teared up when right along with Karan when Achi followed Karan's proposal with his own, and you could see how much it meant to him to know that Achi is really truly on the same page. Getting to see their wedding and the love surrounding them on their special day was the cherry (lol) on top of this fantastic love story. I also absolutely loved the wink to the jbl elevator non-kiss in the way they framed their final married couple kiss and then cut away from the bed.

Continuing the love fest, I also love the changes this version made to the side couple's story. Min getting to fulfill his dream, Jinta being an excellent supportive partner, their agreement that they will marry someday when they're ready--it was all just lovely. The nod to the jbl pen proposal was cute, and I love that they took it a step further by drawing rings on each other. The flip in the sexual relationships was also quite welcome, with that triumphant arc reserved for the main couple in this version. Jinta ended the show with his magical powers still intact, but it didn't seem like that would be the case for long.

As for Rock and Pai, I am happy with how the show handled their story. To the end, Pai stayed true to herself, and Rock came to know her better and understand what kind of romantic relationship he could reasonably expect from her. She will always have her head more on her ships than on her own love life, and he seems okay with it. I think you can still take an aroace read on this Pai if you choose, and I appreciate that the show made space for that. I like, too, that Pai helped Rock reconnect with his own passion for dancing and find a fun outlet for his creativity. They were another reinforcement of this show's overarching themes about the importance of kindness, support, and clear communication in relationships.

This show left me with such a warm feeling. I'm so glad they stuck the landing, that episode 8 never happened, and that we can rewatch and remember this Cherry Magic so fondly. I never expected Thailand to go so above and beyond the original live action drama, but they have undoubtedly delivered my favorite version of this story.

[avengersassemble-fics]

Linger

chapter 02 "don't let it burn" masterlist previous chapter 5.2k words (yikes!) ♡ smut

The sun bathed the Bridgerton estate in a golden glow, casting a warm enchantment over the manicured gardens. The air buzzed with the lively chatter of the Ton, their vibrant silks a kaleidoscope of colors against the backdrop of blooming flowers.

The Bridgerton estate was someplace you frequented at least once every summer. But this occasion was different, this was an alfresco party thrown by the Viscount himself. This season you had heard whispers that Anthony was looking for a wife, and a part of you was curious if he’d find one.

But today was more than just a party, it was the first time you and Benedict would be together in public since you accepted his proposal to court you. Though he had called on you numerous times since you spoke in the cover of darkness in Lady Danbury’s garden, this was different.

The murmur of conversations filled the air, and you had slipped from your parents side in search of what you desired most. But while you had found yourself in search of Benedict, he too was searching for his muse, who he had deemed the unexpected beat of his heart. In your search for Benedict, you found yourself colliding with another body-

“My apologies,” the voice, all too familiar, quipped. Meeting the gaze of Anthony Bridgerton, his brows furrowed. “Ah. It’s only you.”

“Indeed,” you said as Anthony straightened himself out, and stole a glance of you. “You seem on edge, my Lord.”

“I’m perfectly well,” Anthony argued in a low tone. You glanced around at the many pairs of eyes, from mostly women, as they watched the interaction between you and the Viscount.

“So it’s true?” You asked him and he raised a brow. “You are in search of a wife?”

Anthony sighed, shaking his head slightly. “My mother’s outburst truly has graced everyone’s ear.”

“Her words and Lady Whistledown’s writings,” you laughed softly and Anthony looked you over. “I was in search of your brother.. perhaps you have seen him?”

A subtle pause followed, and Anthony’s eyes shifted, he seemed.. truly off. He cleared his throat. “Benedict is around, I’m sure. But.. would you indulge me with your company for a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

You nodded, a little unsure what matters he had to discuss now of all times. But Anthony placed his hand on your arm, leading you away from the prying eyes and ears of the ton towards the small lake on the property. 

“Anthony? What’s this about?” You asked him, dropping the formalities. Anthony paused beside you, and gazed out to the lake with his hands on his hips. This was serious Anthony Bridgerton, which you had only caught glimpses of on a few rare occasions. He turned back to face you. 

“It’s.. about Benedict,” Anthony stated and cleared his throat. “I am happy he finally had the courage to ask you for a courtship, truly.. But there are aspect of his nature that one should be cautious of.”

“Meaning?” You asked him and Anthony sighed. 

“I love my brother,” Anthony said, though you weren’t sure if that was meant to ease your nerves or his own. He knew he had to choose his words carefully, after all - he didn’t want to ruin what could be. “Benedict tends to get lost in the world of his passions, and sometimes… that may lead him down paths others might find unconventional. I am aware that you've known him for years, (Y/N), but there's an unpredictability to him that one should be mindful of."

You nodded, absorbing his words. Anthony could see your eyes shifting over his face, a soft furrow of concern in your brows, and ultimately you nodded. “I appreciate your candor, Anthony.”

“But,” you hesitated. “While I may not know all the deepest things about him that you might, I know one thing to be true. He is a good man. I do not believe he would do something to.. Harm me, if that is your concern.”

“I would never believe him to put you in harm's way,” Anthony whispered. “Please believe that. I only meant.. When he is passionate, he may be more focused on the moment and not the big picture.”

“His passion is what draws me to him,” you said softly. Anthony’s gaze shifted, maybe with shock. It was a brazen comment, but you shook your head. “Thank you for looking out for me, my Lord.”

Before Anthony could try to call for you, you turned from him and made your way back to the party. His words burned in your mind, lingering some kind of caution in you. Not back in the crowd for long, another hand grazed your back, turning you to face them.

Benedict.

“Here I was beginning to think you had grown tired of me already,” Benedict joked and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Only caught up with conversations,” you quipped and he hummed in response. “The festivities are.. Quite the spectacle.”

“Indeed they are,” Benedict said and you felt him grasp your arm softly. “Care for a stroll away from the crowd?”

Your gaze lingered on his features. His smile, the crinkle near his eyes, his intense gaze.. Anthony’s words did linger in your mind, but the overwhelming feeling of ease with Benedict outweighed whatever concern Anthony tried to demonstrate. So, you nodded.

“A stroll sounds lovely,” you spoke softly and Anthony was eager to lace your arm through his, and escort you away. Some eyes did linger on the second eldest Bridgerton and you leaving the crowd, but no one said anything - at least not to your face.

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

Benedict hushed you as you laughed softly, him glancing around the corner to the kitchens.

“You’re going to get us caught,” Benedict warned you in a whisper, though when he met your gaze he couldn’t help but chuckle along with you.

The two of you had gotten into some antics after slipping away from the party outside. Benedict had shared some brandy with you (and Eloise who happened to stumble upon you two hidden away inside the family's estate) which had led to the three of you in search of sweets, but not brave enough to go back outside to the festivities.

“I’ll go, I can make haste,” Eloise offered, which made you stifle your laughs. “I only need a moment, I know where the maid hides her stash.”

“Oh so you two have done this before?” You asked to which she nodded, and you met Benedict’s gaze with a smile. “My, my, Ben. Such a bad influence.”

“It was her idea,” he tried to protest. Eloise slipped into the kitchen, which left you and Benedict alone in the hallway. Again, Anthony’s words of caution flashed through your mind. Really, if you had been caught alone with him.. The whispers that would be said could be grave to your character.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” Benedict’s low voice snapped you back to his attention. When did he get this close to you? He towered over you, his chest nearly to yours, and his hands had taken yours in his. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat.

A soft, teasing smile played on your lips as you replied, "Do I not look beautiful every day?"

Benedict’s chuckle was no longer the light and friendly laughter from just a moment ago when his sister was near.

“Every day, (Y/N), you are a vision,” he confessed, his voice a velvet whisper. “But today.. Your beauty is truly intoxicating. It’s as if the universe is conspiring to tempt me beyond reason.”

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it,” you said softly, but Benedict didn’t miss it. The invitation.

In that charged moment, Benedict’s restraint seemed to waiver. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and without a word, he closed the remaining distance. The first brush of his lips against yours was tentative, a testing of boundaries, but the hunger quickly escalated.

Succumbing to a temptation too potent to resist, Benedict’s hands released their grip on yours, only to find their way to your hips, greedily grabbing hold of them as he pressed you to the wall. A soft sound escaped you, and Benedict’s grip tightened. Whatever he heard, he liked it. You could feel his tongue swipe over your lower lip, and with some hesitation you welcomed him in.

His mouth tasted like the brandy that was being shared between you two, but his tongue was wanting to taste every bit of you he could, while he had the chance. His tongue darted over yours, lingering for a moment as he tilted his head in search of more. One of his hands trailed up your side from your hip to the swell of your breast, his thumb tracing over where he could only guess was where your nipple was.

He was right, because you tensed up slightly under his grasp, and a smirk fell over his lips. Eventually, the need for air compelled you both to reluctantly part. Benedict's eyes, now darker with a mixture of longing and realization, locked onto yours.

“Well?” You asked softly and Benedict could only muster up a soft hm. “Did I live up to your imaginings of my taste?”

A soft, breathless chuckle escaped him and he lifted his hand to your cheek, cupping your chin as he traced his thumb along your lower lip. “You surpassed every imagination. I’m not sure how I can possibly stop myself from wanting more.”

The sound of Eloise’s footsteps was enough to force you two apart. It forced you two to pace yourselves for the rest of the evening, especially with Eloise still around. The group snacked on sweets in one of the drawing rooms, but every time you caught a glimpse of Benedict, his gaze was on you. That hunger was still there in his eyes, and you had to squash down the feeling brewing in your lower stomach.

But when Eloise took her leave, noticing the party dwindling down outside, it once again left you alone with the driving force of your desires. Benedict stayed seated for a moment, unknown to you he was weighing his options. The feeling of your lips earlier, the taste of you on his tongue, was like an intoxication unlike anything alcohol could give to him. He cleared his throat and stood before you, and offered his hand.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. You met Benedict’s gaze and the only words you knew to respond to was-

“Of course,” you responded, taking his hand with yours. Benedict helped you up, lacing his fingers with yours while he led you from the room. Sure, you had traversed the estate with Daphne sometimes over the summers, but never where Benedict was taking you. No, this corridor was always private to the boys, housing Anthony’s study and Benedict’s room.. So seeing it for the first time made you feel warmth spread through your chest.

It was a place filled with the tangible essence of his creativity, and you couldn’t help but be swept away by the intimacy of the space. The air carried the scent of drying paints and the faint traces of inspiration, like this place was a secret world apart from the rest of the Bridgertons. The soft glow of the candlelights left burning casted a warm ambiance.

Your eyes roamed over the canvases, each one was a testament to Benedict’s artistic soul laid bare. He let you peruse his space, let you drink in what he was sharing, and he felt himself losing himself further to a sensation he hadn’t been able to name yet.

Love.

Your eyes lingered on one painting, still fresh from brushstrokes and paint, and Benedict smiled a bit. He came up behind you, lowering himself to your shoulder, and he caught a whiff of your hair and the perfume that lingered behind your ear. “Can you tell what my inspiration for this one was?”

The painting in question was a swirl of colors, but a dark contrast. Two figures were embraced with one another, though he left out the finer details. His breath hit your neck, and followed by his tender lips against your shoulder. “You have seeped into every part of my being.. I’d love a piece of you.”

You smiled as his lips grazed your skin, your inner voice of self control growing smaller and smaller. “You wish to draw me, Mr. Bridgerton?”

A small huff hit your skin and you laughed softly. Stepping away from his embrace, there was a couch in the room that you settled yourself on. “How would you like me?”

“I think it wise you don’t ever ask me that again,” Benedict warned as he grabbed a pad and a piece of writing charcoal. “I just.. want you as yourself.”

And you did just that. You flattened your dress down yourself, easing your back to the couch and  rested your hands in your lap. Benedict settled into a chair opposite, leg crossed over the other, as he started to work away in short strokes of the charcoal. He would keep glancing up at you, adjusting his method to capture more details of you. Because he never wanted to forget even the smallest of details.

A comfortable silence filled the room, the only sound was the soft pops of candles and his fingers grazing the paper. You shifted slightly, and Benedict’s eyes flashed up to meet yours, and offered a slight smile.

“Can you undo your hair for me?” Benedict asked as his eyes darted back down to the paper. At that request, you did hesitate, knowing full well that if you did, you’d never be able to redo it. But.. What was thrill without any potential hearsay?

You undid the various pins that had been entriquently placed in your hair to hold it up and proper. Each one slowly loosened your updo, until finally your palm was full of little pins. You readjusted your hair, laying it just right when Benedict glanced up again at you, and took a moment to stare.

Though he didn’t comment on how you looked, his mind raced as he went back to the outline of you on his paper. He wanted to get you perfect, just as you were. He wanted to have you soldered into his memory, because time was of the essence. He didn’t have too long to indulge in your company, knowing you would have to leave eventually.

But he wanted to yield to his temptation.

Benedict stood and crossed the space towards you, kneeling before you as he adjusted a strand of your hair, making sure it fell perfectly beside your face. But his hand lingered on your chin, his thumb grazing over your lower lips, his fingers gliding to cup behind your ear on your neck..

There was a flush to your skin and he just.. Couldn’t help himself. He leaned in closer, catching your lips with his as he held your face in place. Your breaths mingled, heavy against one another’s skin, and you found yourself reaching for him. You grabbed a hold of his coat jacket, the edges firm in your grip as you pulled him in.

Benedict braced himself against you, the hand not already lost in your hair grabbed ahold of your thigh as he made himself at home between your legs. He was fully aware of what he was doing, but he couldn’t help himself, you were in the palm of his hands.

He squeezed your thigh, bunching up the fabric in his fist before trailing it downwards past your knees, your calves, and to your ankles. Skimming the hem of the layers of fabric, Benedict pulled away from your lips, his gaze meeting yours as you both fought to collect your breathing.

”Tell me to stop and I will,” he muttered to you, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation. Part of you knew this was wrong, knew that it would be best to stop this right here and now, knew you should collect yourself and retire for the evening..

But you responded by pulling him back in, a groan escaping him as your lips met again, tongues eager to reconnect. But Benedict was on a pursuit of more now.

His fingers ghosted over your ankles, grazing the skin under your gown and petticoat. You could feel his hand ghosting against the back of your calf, around to the top of your knee before moving inwards to your thigh. Instinctively, your thighs closed around his hand.

”It’s okay,” he coaxed you along in a whisper, moving his lips from yours as he pressed a tender kiss under your ear. “I’ve got you.”

”Ben,” you whispered as he peppered more kisses along the hot skin of your neck. “I.. I am chaste, I.. don’t know-“

”I know,” he breathed, finally peeling himself from your body to meet your gaze. The fingers that had been tangled in your hair tightened slightly, making you suck in a sharp breath. “I know, love. If you can trust me, if you can let go and relax for me I promise you this- I will do everything in my power to make you feel not just exquisite pleasure, but cherished.”

You had no doubt he could, and against the judgment in your mind you nodded. At the end of the day.. Benedict and you were courting. It surely was only a matter of time before you two got married.

As you relaxed slightly, Benedict kissed your cheek, down your jaw, to your neck again. His hand that still was under your gown began to roam again, pressing your thighs open once more as he edged closer and closer to the heat he was looking for.

”Have you ever touched yourself?” Benedict asked you, lightly nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck. Slowly you nodded your head in response, feeling your breath catch in your throat. “Just for the feeling?”

”I-“ you hesitated to catch your breath, his fingers edging closer to the throbbing of your cunt. “I always thought of you, like this.”

Benedict’s face lifted so he could meet your gaze. His hand left your hair and held onto your chin, his grip slightly rough, but still tender. “I want to see you when I touch you.”

His fingers finally found you, an abrasive digit slipping through your folds and you bit your lower lip. Benedict’s eyes stayed locked on you, studying your face and reaction as his finger slid up and down your aching entrance. A small whimper fell from your lips, and you found yourself pushing your legs open a little more.

”So eager,” Benedict mumbled, increasing the pressure of his finger against your clit, swirling against you. Your hips involuntarily bucked against his hand, as if begging for more stimulation. There was a smirk on Benedict’s lips, which he used to kiss along your collarbone down towards your breasts. Just as he skimmed over the fabric of your gown, nipping at your nipple underneath, he shifted his fingers back down your cunt, finally slipping a single digit into you.

“Ben-” you managed breathlessly, and all he could do was nod his head, which was flush in between your breasts.  His free hand that wasn’t lost between your thighs went to your dress, desperately getting the material up your body in a bunch at your hips, exposing your lower half with his finger in you to the warm air.

“Keep making noises for me,” Benedict said, changing the angle of his finger that slipped in and out of you and curling inwards, which elicited a sweet sound from your throat. “God, yes, just like that.”

With each move of his curled finger thrusting in and out of you at a slow and deliberately teasing pace, your hips rolled into his palm, and the sounds from your mouth were sinful. But Benedict, oh did he enjoy every sound he could manage from you. The breathless way his name fell from your parted lips, the wet sounds from your cunt, the way you’d curse when he swirled his thumb up and over your clit, you were unraveling before his very eyes and it was driving him mad.

Your chest heaved against the fabric of your dress, wanting only one thing and that was to be set free. But, unknown to you, it was just the threatened orgasm wanting to rip through you. But Benedict, now with an extra finger diving in and out of your soaked cunt, knew what was coming from you, and he wanted nothing more than to meet you in that high.

“I need to know if I can continue,” Benedict said as he re-met your gaze. It was a big ask, one he knew would change the dynamic between you two.. But in his heart, it was only accelerating the inevitable. He knew he would ask for your hand by the end of the season, so what was so bad about indulging in sex a few months early?

You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to need much convincing.. You nodded your head, “I trust you.”

It was a simple sentence, but the weight it carried meant so much more to him than you might have intended. Benedict’s fingers had still been moving but he retreated himself from you, much to your dismay. But while he took his fingers from your wet folds they immediately went into his mouth, and you watched with your mouth slightly open as he sucked what juices he had of yours on them, clean. 

Then, you had to watch him undo his breeches, tugging the loosened fabric down as his cock sprung free. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight, sure you had seen diagrams in texts but this.. oh he was so different from anything like that. 

Benedict took hold of your hand and laced his fingers with yours, while the other shifted you to lay down on the couch. He was careful to place a tender kiss to your neck, before he met your gaze. “I must warn you.. it may hurt for a moment.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. “I trust you.. more than anything.”

Though he smiled, you could tell he genuinely didn’t want to cause you harm. With your free hand, he held your wrist and guided your fingers down his chest, and past his hips, letting you grab hold of his throbbing cock. Though you weren’t totally sure what all to do, you instinctively ran your hand over him, feeling a slight wetness near his tip. 

By the way he thrusted into your palm, you could tell he did enjoy the sensation of you running your thumb over the tip of his cock to spread that secretion.  He guided your hand down to the base of him, and let you wrap your fingers firmly around him. Benedict had his hand wrapped around your, and when he moved himself closer, he dragged the head of his cock along your entrance, an erotic feeling of what was to come.

Up and down, Benedict got the feeling of your wetness on him and he shuddered in anticipation. You were perfect, you were his. He would never let you go.

“Remember, love,” he whispered, his free hand not holding his cock just at the precipice of your cunt came to your cheek, which you nestled yourself into. “If it hurts, if it feels overwhelming.. focus on us.”

You nodded, and then you felt him. His cock pressed into you and you winced slightly. He was thick and hot, and you surrounded him tightly so. Benedict grunted, but when he caught a glimpse of your furrowed brow, he was quick to pepper kisses along your forehead.

”This is.. umph-” he grunted when he was deep enough that his hand and yours were no longer necessary on his cock. But he took hold of your hand and laced his fingers with yours. “-Where it may sting, love.”

Benedict pushed his cock in further, and just like he warned there was a slight resistance, but when he bottomed himself out on you, it disappeared. Now fully erect in you, the discomfort slowly turned into a pulsation that.. started to ease any tension left in your body. Benedict was a watchful hawk, and when your face dropped any sign of discomfort he smiled, and began to pump his cock in and out of you.

Benedict couldn’t get over how perfect you felt wrapped around him. You were wet, warm, perfect. His. Each time his hips met yours, you loosened up with sweet whimpers, and that made him want to devour you. But you also deserved a beautiful experience.

“Christ you’re perfect,” he muttered to you. His hands left yours as he used his thumbs to spread your pussy lips wider. “Beautiful from every angle.”

Before you could respond you watched as Benedict gathered the spit in his mouth, before letting a trail of himself fall from his lips and you could feel the warm saliva hit your clit with perfect precision. He quickly pressed his thumb against your aching nub, matching his thrust with the roll of his digit.

“Ben-“ you barely managed out, your hips bucking upwards to meet him with each thrust. He was fucking you deeper and deeper into the couch, and he let out a low grunt. His balls were slapping against your thighs, and he was getting lost in the sensation of you clenching around him.

All he wanted was to feel you come around him, it was a desperate need that was pulsating through him. He didn’t know if he could leave this room tonight without knowing how you felt coming on his cock. Benedict increased his thrusts slightly, making sure he bottomed himself in you with each hit. 

“Tell me what you need, love,” he groaned. “Tell me what feels good.”

“Your.. touch,” you whispered, a whimper following next and Benedict nearly growled at the sound. “Your lips-“

Benedict came crashing down on you, his lips catching yours in a hot kiss that momentarily distracted you from all the sensations between your legs. His tongue was wet and greedy, but his fingers were more so. The way he was rubbing your clit was making every tension in your body evaporate, like he was just as desperate for your release like you were. 

On the precipice, you gripped ahold of him at his shoulder and arm, trying to close your legs but he was adamant to not allow that. He kept your legs forced open, and they shook under his control, and finally you reached your heights after another thrust of his cock. 

It was a quick moment of tension followed immediately by a pulsating, throbbing release. Your back pressed against the couch, arching into him to savor the feeling. Benedict, on the other hand, felt the way your pussy contracted around him and by God was it the most excruciatingly sweet feeling ever. Ripples of your soaked cunt was just what he needed. 

With a slight grunt and a few more thrusts into your aching depths, Benedict finally felt his release. His release was quicker, his cock twitching as  he continued to fuck his cum slowly into you, he glanced down to see just how wet you were between your thighs. Each of his thrusts made more of his thick sticky cum leak from you and he mumbled beneath his breath. 

“Fuck, this is such a sight,” he had muttered before finally slowing his paces. Benedict leaned down and kissed your neck tenderly, feeling your quickened pulse under his lips and he felt content just like this. Having you under him, your dress bunched at your hips, and his cock still in you while his cum drips along your thighs. 

You, still reeling from the intense session, hand trailed your hand from his shoulder and into his hair. The ramifications of this encounter hadn’t settled into your mind, you just were high on the feeling of Benedict’s lips in your skin. 

“That.. was wonderful, Ben,” you had finally managed to say and Benedict nearly purred near your ear. 

“That is only the beginning of what pleasures I can provide for you, love,” he muttered against your skin. When he lifted his head from your neck, he quickly kissed you for a moment, and let his lips linger with yours.

“Should we return before the party ends?” You asked him softly and he groaned. 

“You seem to be the more sensible one between us,” he teased and you smiled a bit. He pressed another quick kiss to you and begrudgingly slipped his cock from between your legs. “We should make haste and hope no one notices.”

Having to compose yourselves, Benedict was all too willing to help you fasten your hair back with pins just the way you had it. He took advantage of being behind you by kissing your neck and shoulders as he worked, and pressing himself against your back. You could feel your heart flutter.. He was truly all you ever wanted. 

Returning back to the party, you both managed to slip outside with no one the wiser. Benedict could barely keep his hands to himself, but knew better than to compromise you.. At least in public. 

He made it a point to escort you to your carriage, trailing behind your parents so you could linger with one another. Benedict had taken your hand in his and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I promise to call on you soon,” he whispered, and gave your hand a slight squeeze. You, in turn, smiled at him softly. 

“I look forward to seeing you again, Mr. Bridgerton,” you said. There was a knowing look, shared just between the two of you. Benedict held your hand as he helped you up the step into your carriage, only letting go when he absolutely must. 

And as the carriage pulled away, and you watched the Bridgerton estate slowly disappear from view.. you thought back to your encounter with Benedict, how amazing and warm and tempting it all had been. It was a feeling you could never forget..

Unknown to you, Benedict stood in his place as he watched your carriage disappear down the path. He couldn’t seem to make himself move from his place until he knew you were well out of sight, but not out of his mind. He turned back to the estate, ready to return to his chambers and be back in the room he had just taken you in, when he paused. 

And the top of the stairs was Anthony, who looked Benedict over with an almost implacable look that made the younger Bridgerton hesitate. And then.. Anthony shook his head. 

He knew.

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[azrielsdove]

hi, i love ur fics so much, they are all so well written! can i request a fic where reader is feyre + rhysands daughter and is secretly seeing tamlins son. rhys and tamlin catch them and all hell breaks loose, while feyre is just trying to calm everyone down.

Thank you lovely!!!! I am SO happy you are enjoying them. I hope this was what you wanted <3

Spring’s Son

Warnings: Suggestive, 18+

***

“I want to come with.” You said, waiting for your parents reaction. Your mother looked at you curiously, your father shrugging.

“Why not?” He replied, a smile coming onto his face. “Let’s make it a family affair, bring Nyx too!” Your mother rolled her eyes, knowing your father liked to flaunt their family in front of her old lover.

“Fine. Be ready after lunch, we are heading out then.” You nodded, bounding to your room in excitement. You took a long bath, cleaning every inch of your body. You took the time to perfectly do your hair, choosing a dress that you felt would pass with your parents. Truly, you were too old for them to argue you, but the High Lord and Lady were not forces to be reckoned with most days. You admired yourself in the mirror, appreciating your reflection. You looked lovely.

You met your parents after lunch, your brother already waiting with them. He looked at you, a knowing smirk on his face. “Dressed to impress, dear sister?” He teased, your eyes flashing a warning to him. Your mother had that look on her face again, like she was trying to solve an equation. Your father scoffed at your brother, batting him on the back of the head.

“She’s dressed like a Night Court princess should be.” He said, holding out his arms to grab yours. He admired you, ever the proud father. “My beautiful girl.” It was your brothers turn to roll his eyes, a trait he picked up from your mother.

“Alright, alright. Can we just go?” He asked, ready to get to the Spring Court. Nyx was especially good at pushing Tamlins buttons, that trait he took straight from your father. You mother tutted over him, smoothing his jacket down and ruffling his hair as the four of you prepared to winnow away.

***

You landed in the Spring Court with your father, your mother and Nyx close behind. Your parents linked their arms together, you and your brother following dutifully behind as you walked up to the manor. You spotted Tamlin at the top of the steps, his wife next to him. You strained your eyes, looking for the familiar mop of blond curls. You were dismayed to find that his son had chosen to not greet your family.

“Tamlin! Camellia! How good it is to see you, old friends.” Your father spoke, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Children.” Tamlin replied, nodding to each of you. “Come, let us head inside.” He led you into his beautiful home, you pretending to simply be admiring the decor as you looked around.

Where was he?

He was usually waiting with his parents whenever you had come, ever the polite Son of Spring. You knew you couldn’t ask, couldn’t draw attention to the fact that you came just to see him. You sat at the long table in the dining room, the seat across from yours remaining empty. You tried to ignore the disappointment rising in you, putting a polite smile on your face as dinner was served.

Dinner went rather uneventful, casual chatter happening over the meal. Your parents and Tamlin had long since forgiven each other, but that did not mean the teasing ended. “Now, Tam, can we be promised one of your delightful concerts after dinner?” Your father asked, a twinkle in his eyes. The High Lord of Spring looked up to the ceiling, as if asking the Mother for the patience to deal with the High Lord of Night.

“Why, Rhysand? You wish to show off those dance skills again?” Tamlin replied, a smirk on his lips. You let out a small laugh, remembering your fathers so-called ‘skills’. He shot a glare to you, a look that said You’re supposed to be on my side. You smiled at him, teasing.

At the end of dinner Tamlin stood, extending an arm to your parents. “Please, if we shall meet in the study. We have much to discuss.” Your parents stood as well, following Tamlin and Camellia down the hall. You were certain there wasn’t actually anything to discuss, just an excuse for the four of them to drink and gossip together.

You got up from the table, intending to go search for the son you so desperately wanted to see. Nyx clicked his tongue, calling your attention to him. “What?” you asked, arms crossing defensively in front of you.

“You could be less obvious. You looked like a wounded puppy when you saw he wasn’t here.” Your brother answered, leaning back in his chair. Your cheeks flushed at his words, teeth clenching.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You defended, heart racing. Were you truly so easy to read?

Your brother sighed, picking at his nails nonchalantly. “Sister, please. I know everything about you.” His words were cocky, the know-it-all bastard. You released your arms, turning to walk towards the door.

“Stay out of my business, Nyx.”

***

You carefully prowled the Spring Court manor, hoping you’d catch him at any turn. You stayed mostly to the areas you knew you were allowed to be in, not knowing how to explain yourself if you were caught. You ended up in the giant library, standing in front of the windows overlooking the gardens. There was a delicate beauty here, one that almost rivaled the deadly beauty of the Night Court.

You startled when two arms wrapped around your waist, lips pressing against your neck. The familiar scent of grass and honeysuckle swept over you, realization dawning. “Where were you?” you asked, sinking into his arms.

“Why? Did my Nightingale miss me?” He teased, leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. You softly moaned, hands clasping over his.

“I always do.” You said, turning in his arms. You looked at the long blond curls, the brilliant green eyes. He was as handsome as his father, with the beauty of his mother shining through. “Cyrus.” You whispered, a hand coming up to twist a lock of gold around your finger. “You have been ignoring me.”

He gave a small smile, leaning down to kiss you ever so gently. “Never, my dear. I have been out hunting from dusk to dawn with my father. Strange creatures are being seen on the edges of our court, I couldn’t let him go alone.” Cyrus explained, a hand coming to cup your face. “I am always thinking of you.” He murmured, his voice heavy. “Especially on lonely nights.”

A shiver shot through you at his words, desire spreading quickly. “Is that so?” You teased, leaning up to press kisses to his jawline. “What, exactly, do you think about?” You let your kisses fall to his neck, licking a stripe over his adams apple. He groaned, his arm tightening around your waist, the hand on your face coming to grasp your throat.

“You know better than to play with me when we have been apart so long.” He growled out, the hand on your throat tightening pleasurably. You moaned out, eyes blown wide with desire. Cyrus was good at this, at reducing you to a puddle in a matter of moments. His hand released your throat, sliding to the back of your neck so he could angle your head up to his. “Oh, how i’ve longed to hear that sound again.” His lips came down to yours, quickly convincing your mouth to open. You knew it was a bad idea to be doing this where anyone could walk in, but your mind was so clouded with need that you didn’t care.

Cyrus pushed you back, pressing you to window behind. “Cyrus,” you gasped out, “anyone can see.” His lips tore from yours, resuming his initial attack on your neck.

“I don’t particularly care.” He said against your skin, a soft bite bringing a whimper from you. Your nails dug into his back, the hand around your waist dipping under your skirts. “I had to skip dinner, I knew if I saw you I wouldn’t be able to keep from touching you.” He whispered as he gently bit under your ear. His fingers toyed with the delicate lace covering you, an embarrassingly needy noise coming from your mouth. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you hard as his fingers slid to where you needed him.

“What, may I ask, is going on here?”

The two of you froze at the cold voice, the haze of lust shattering around you. Cyrus pulled his hand from your skirt quickly, hiding the wetness on his fingers behind his back. You pushed off the window, straightening your dress as you looked at your father. In that moment, Rhysand looked ever the dangerous Dark Lord he was rumored to be.

Your gaze turned to Tamlin next to him, the same anger visible on his face. You knew his claws were seconds away from coming out, not able to believe the sight in front of him. You paled, shame creeping up your spine.

“Father, I-“ Cyrus began, ever the gentleman. Rhysand cut him off.

“You better have a good reason for having your hand up my daughters skirt.” Your fathers voice was nearly shaking with anger. Tamlin scoffed, turning the attention to him.

“Please,” he said, looking to your father. “With the way you Night Court fae act, she probably seduced him herself.” Your face flushed at the two of them, humiliated by the scene they walked in on.

“Enough!” Cyrus boomed out, hand reaching to grab yours. “There is no dark magic here. Rhysand, Sir, I love your daughter.” The room went speechless, the quiet deadly. Feyre and Camellia chose that moment to enter the room, catching the end of Cyrus’ confession. Your mothers eyes find yours, a knowing look in them. That gave you the strength to step closer to Cyrus, your hand coming to rest on his arm.

“Father, Tamlin, I love him.” You declared, looking up to smile at the handsome blond. Your father gave a great roar of laughter, rounding on Tamlin.

“What kind of a game is this, Spring?” He seethed, getting in his face. The other High Lord rose against him, his anger as equal.

“Who’s to say this isn’t your game, Night? You come into my home, send your daughter to whore out my son!” Tamlin yelled, retaliating against your father.

“Stop!” Your mother cried out, stepping between the two of them. She turned your father, grabbing his hands in hers. “You truly haven’t felt the love coming off her in recent months? The way she suddenly wished to accompany us every time we came here? Tell me you aren’t so naive, husband.” She spoke, calming the rage inside him. Camellia did the same with Tamlin, whispering soothing words to him.

Your father looked slightly ashamed, realizing he hadn’t noticed the change in you. He looked back to you and Cyrus, an apology in his eyes.

“Aw Mother, why did you stop them right when it was getting good?” Your brother drawled from the doorway, commanding the attention of the room. Your mother sighed at him, shaking her head at her eldest.

“Now is not the time, Nyx.” She chided, turning back to you. “How long?” She asked, gesturing between the two of you. Cyrus cleared his throat, unsure if the answer was going to create more anger or help dispel it.

“Around a year.” He said, holding his breath while he waited for a reaction. Your mother smiled, walking over to embrace you.

“I am happy for you, my darling.” She said, holding you tight. “Why keep it a secret for so long?” She asked, looking at you quizzically. You gestured to the two fathers, looking ready to attack each other again.

“Have you ever met them?”

***

[navybrat817]

What's Yours is Mine

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You like to borrow Bucky's shirts, so he decides to try one of yours. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, reference to explicit sexual content, established relationship, roommate!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Eighth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Stud and Smartie! Inspired by this ask here from @sparklesannie. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You joked with Bucky after doing laundry one day that you weren’t sure why you had so many clothes. You had a tendency to wear the same few outfits, the fabric worn enough to break them in just the way you liked them. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the other things you owned. You just preferred to be comfortable when you were at home.

You didn’t realize how happy it made Bucky that you used the word “home” instead of “apartment”.

Of course, you considered Bucky to be your home and ultimate source of comfort.

“Do you ever wear your shirts anymore?” he asked when he walked into the living room with a mug in each hand. “Not that I’m complaining. I love my clothes on you.”

You stopped typing as you glanced down at yourself, briefly staring at the blue fabric of another one of Bucky’s tops that you declared as your own. He had worn the shirt enough that it was soft and faded a bit, but still perfectly intact. It was one of your favorites.

“You love your clothes on me so you can take them off,” you winked as you shut the laptop and set it aside.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as set the mugs down, his gaze lingering on your chest. You arched your back when he kept staring. As much as the shirts comforted you or kept you warm, some days you wore them to entice him. Not that it took much to make him crave you. No guy ever made you feel so wanted.

It’s fun when he snaps and goes feral.

“You love it, too,” he smirked when he took a seat beside you and casually rested his arm on your shoulders. “And let me guess. You got cold.”

“I did and it was right there on the back of the couch,” you said, tucking into his side.

“You always get cold when you see one of my shirts lying around,” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. “A blanket would’ve been warmer.”

“Maybe, but I wanted to wear your shirt,” you said.

“I’m not getting it back, am I?” he asked.

“We can share,” you answered, smiling at him when he chuckled. “What’s yours is mine, Stud.”

“So, what’s yours is mine then?” he asked, bringing his face close.

“Yes,” you smiled, his lips almost touching yours.

“I want you to remember that,” he said before he kissed you.

You didn’t get to ask him why since he spent so long buried inside you that your drinks got cold. You would never complain about that kind of distraction. Bucky was good like that.

As you went through your drawer the next day, his words rang in your head.

“Where the hell is it?” you asked yourself, sifting through the small stack of sweaters. "I know I had it in here."

“What's up?” Bucky asked from behind you. "Looking for something?"

You looked over your shoulder as your boyfriend walked further into your bedroom, your eyes glued to the shirt he was wearing. The pink, oversized top that looked amazing on your beefy man. The very sweater you had been looking for.

How the actual fuck does my shirt look better on him?!

“I don’t know why you don’t wear this more often,” he said, running his hands over the fabric with a smirk. “It’s comfy.”

“I know it’s comfy. That’s why I was going to wear that,” you said, turning to face him with your hands on your hips.

“And now I’m wearing it. You sure you don’t want to pick from that pile?” he asked, pointing to the stack of shirts near your bed that belonged to him. “Plenty to choose from.”

Okay, maybe I have been hoarding them.

"You went in my drawer."

"You went in my drawer last week to take a shirt."

Touche.

“That’s not the point!” You tried not to laugh as Bucky did a twirl, like he was modeling for you. “Did you take that as payback for me stealing yours?”

“No,” he chuckled when he stopped. “But remember you told me once that you liked wearing mine because it was like I was holding you?"

You bit your lip and nodded, recalling the flood of humiliation that flooded you when you admitted that to Bucky. Like the good boyfriend and roommate he was, he didn't make you feel bad or weird about it. He never would.

“Maybe I wanted to feel the same thing,” he said casually. “That and I think pink is a good color on me.”

He may have initially taken the shirt to tease me, but he loves the comfort, too.

“A very good color on you,” you smiled as he stood in front of you. “And I did say what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”

Bucky held your chin up his metal hand, his eyes and smile soft. “That’s the second time you’ve said that, Smartie. I thought that saying only applied to marriage.”

“I’m getting a headstart for when we get married,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Oh, why did I say that?

His expression softened more. It was easy to imagine what life would be like years from now. How he’d still dance with you in the kitchen or read while you put together a puzzle. Each day wouldn’t be perfect. There would be obstacles and some days would require more work than others.

It would be worth it though because you’d face it together.

“So, I can keep taking your sweaters even though we aren’t married yet?” he asked, moving his hand to your cheek.

Yet. He said “yet”. Does he want to marry me?

“You can take every shirt I own,” you said sincerely, putting your hand on top of his. “As long as I can keep taking yours.”

You didn’t know at the time that Bucky planned to reference the shirt stealing in your wedding vows.

“What’s mine is yours, Smartie.”

I think it goes without saying that I love them. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tarotwithdanise]

10 reasons why you should love yourself

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose a pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

1. Just a quick disclaimer : This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! i don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

2. Please ignore any grammatical errors on my reading since english is not my first language, thank you for understanding!

3. Third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore, this pac can contains harsh, hurtful comments about you or the other person that can trigger you if possible, so kindly read at your own risk and take how it’ll resonates.

4. Lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that’s me, lol :3)

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

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[ ♡ ] check out my second account @danisetarot.

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits and reading itself goes and belong to yours truly. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider.

Pile one

You don't take bullsh*t from others.

Your opinion is way more matters for you rather than other people opinion of you now.

You are good at dancing.

You are highly connected to divine and spiritual realm.

You have a strong fighting spirit.

Cutting people off for you is like as if you were cutting a paper pad. Too easy.

You've got a brightest smile and pretty hands.

You prefer few friends rather than a bunch of friends who are just fake and plastic. Quality over quantity.

You always want to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You are brutally honest person.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile two

You are good with arts, crafting, sewing, music or painting.

You are unique, feels like a weirdo from everyone else. (aquarius?)

You prefer old fashion rather than to keep up with the trends.

You have a peaceful and positive mindset.

You have a nice thighs.

You are passionate and hardworking about your work.

You always stay focus at your project, seems like you are perfectionist individual.

You are a great listener and advisor, probably someone who is there for everyone. A friend that can rely on with.

You are good at reading and observing people.

You are quite person but d*adly scary.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile three

You love taking care of yourself, you prepare for your daily healthy foods and keep yourself hydrated everytime.

You are good at guiding other's, someone who can be a teacher, tarot reader or a leader itself.

You have a high respect for people especially for your parents.

Many people love you online or in real life.

You are grateful that God give and provide your everyday life. You are thankful that God has given you another chance to live again, to prove and improve yourself.

You love the sound of rain while reading your favorite book.

You like reading newspapers even though through online sites and watching documentaries.

The fears you are fearing before, you can deal with them now.

You are creative human, there's something new up and something incredible happening to your mind 24/7.

You finally learn how to say ‘no’ with those things and someone that you think won't serve you. You rather be hated for who you truly are rather than to be someone else who faked everything.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile four

You are soft-hearted individual.

You have a sexy body.

You have this mindset - it's okay to cry then start to fight again for tomorrow and for your future.

You are determined and doesn't give up easily.

You know how to pampered yourself when you have money.

Even though you doesn't seems see yourself as a good leader atleast you always perceived yourself as great team player.

You know how to handle and organize your own time and things.

You think your ship doesn't yet come to the shore and so, you knew there's a lot of lessons for you to uncover in this lifetime.

You are someone who know themselves well, someone who knew that they have strengths, weakness, positive and negative traits about themselves. In short, you accept your own flaws.

You have a strong faith.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile five

You are lucky and grateful about your life and about yourself.

You are kind to yourself and to others.

You are lovable individual, partner, son/daughter and best friend.

Type of person is not easy to get fooled and scammed.

You know how to discipline yourself about something or someone.

You can deal with your personal issues alone without the help of others. Maybe sometimes when you badly needed it.

You have this quote ‘loving yourself first before loving others’.

You know how to have fun and you know how to joke around with other people. You have a jolly and positive energy.

You have a perfect eyebrows?like even though you don't casually wear brows pencil.

You only have you in this world and you have your family.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

Pile six

You have unpredictable nature, that may lots of people wonder what were you thinking.

You are very secretive and mysterious individual.

You look good in every outfits and styles you wear.

You know how to forgive and forget others. But you don't give chances.

You have a great story and will, to share with people.

You have a beautiful and graceful ; soul, body and mind.

You know how to celebrate your own victory. You are happy in small things.

You are generous individual.

You usually have a good music and artist taste.

You know how to defend yourself in a bad situation.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

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