#Because I was happy to see him being so quiet and being so secretive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artdcnaldson · 2 days

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patrick hive to the rescue because im thinking, as i often do, about friends to lovers with patrick where you're kind of upset because he and art have gotten around and you're still struggling on the dating scene, maybe you're shy, probably you just have standards, and its really just all starting to bug you because you're worked up!!!!! imagine hanging out with patrick during the summer - the room is sticky with humidity, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. you're hot and irritated and sexually frustrated. patrick being half clothed isn't helping, either - you can see the gleam of sweat on his bare chest - the dusking of hair on his thick thighs as he lounges back with a cigarette. you're going mad, it feels like you could detonate at any second your clit is so on fire - throbbing and achey and everytime you press you sweat slick thighs together it makes it worse.

patrick is looking at his phone - so you take the chane - just a small touch - just for some relief. you're on the bed, there's a plushi blocking his view - it cant hurt just to slide a sneaky hand down the band of your shorts and panties. just to stroke your swollen slit. surely he wont noitce if you just...... rub yourself a little. while you sneak glances at his toned body - just peeks, really. if you're very quiet (you do realize the sticky squelch of your cunt can be heard across the room, right? you dont) you might even be able to cum undetected

GODDDDD FUCK!!!! This was supposed to be a chill, normal, short response. Instead I ignored 2 work calls bc it’s that serious.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (exibitionism/voyeurism, f!masturbation, not fingering but a secret third adjacent thing, extreme levels of horniness)

A/N: Patrick Hive we Linked and Built <3

Patrick thought it was so sweet that you invited him to visit your home for the summer. Apparently you’d sung nothing but his praises to your parents, because even though you were both eighteen, they let him sleep on the floor of your room on a blow up mattress, trusting him that much.

Which was annoying. You weren’t fucking Patrick (not for lack of wanting to), but they could’ve at least given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed that you might have some sort of sexual urges. It made your stupid fucking celibacy that much more embarrassing.

You’re home alone with him and the power’s out— a stupid, heat-induced rolling blackout. The open window only seems to usher in more hot summer air, so you’re both down to as few layers as would be appropriate. You, were down to a thin T-shirt and your panties. Patrick was only in a pair of grey nylon shorts. Sweat was beading down his bare chest, which was so fucking unfair.

Because it was Patrick, whose chest hair and happy trail made your mouth fill with drool any time you were treated to the sight of it. It was summer, and he was frequently shirtless, and you still hadn’t gotten used to the sight. Any sane person would want to lave their tongue along his chest, tasting the sweat and salt of his skin. That was… so totally normal to think about.

Patrick fucked your neighbor— the cute one who was going to a state school so she could be a kindergarten teacher. You didn’t know, but you were pretty sure. You’d been swimming in the pool during a cul-de-sac cookout, and they’d disappeared after a while. Patrick didn’t say anything that night, probably to protect your delicate sensibilities, but you could just kind of sense it.

God, it was unfair. All of the guys your age had girlfriends, or something. And the single ones were cute, but Patrick always seemed to fuck things up for you, either actively, or because you would always wind up talking about him. And because your parents thought it was totally fine for him to sleep in your room, you were surviving off of weak, rushed orgasms in the shower.

It was supposed to be a fun, sexy summer before you went off to college, and Patrick was totally ruining it. How was it fair that he got to fuck around and get his rocks off while you spent your summer feeling like you were wearing a fucking chastity belt?

And you were so wet it was uncomfortable, sticky between your thighs with absolutely no relief. Patrick was sitting on the fucking Air mattress, propped up by your cute, pink pillows and plushies that he’d stolen, watching a rerun of The Hills on MTV. His hand dangled out the open bedroom window so the smell of smoke wouldn’t get stuck in your innocent little bedroom.

He stretched, and you watched with an open mouth as he blew the cigarette smoke out the window. Pretty fucking lips, his muscles all taut as he turned. He looked back at the TV, and you exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck, you were so turned on you wanted to scream. Your pussy was just drooling into your panties, clit throbbing and aching for attention, your entire body felt empty, desperate to be filled up.

You were practically buried in your stuffed animal collection, which was embarrassing on any other day (Patrick had nearly laughed at the sight, but you’d insisted that you couldn’t just throw all of them away… they were nostalgic), but you’d never been more grateful until that moment.

You were already pretty well covered, thanks to the near life size bear sitting beside you— the perfect safety net. Your pulse was thundering in your chest, making you feel a little dizzy with anxiety or arousal, or a strange new mix of both.

You were burning hot between your thighs— throbbing and soaked all sticky and slick. Your legs twitched instinctively as your fingertips dipped into your core, where a pool of your arousal awaited. A shaky gasp escaped you as you moved your slick fingers up to your neglected clit, and you quickly muffled the noise into your pillow

It was like you’d never really touched yourself before. The level of need and desperation within you was completely unknown until that point. Your eyes rolled back as you began grinding up against your fingers. Your teeth dug into your lip to stay quiet as you played with your clit as discreetly as you could.

Patrick shifted to get more comfortable. Flexing his thighs just slightly, rubbing sweaty palms against the muscles there. He ashed his cigarette with his gaze locked on the TV. “This shit is so boring,” he muttered.

And fuck, his voice. You considered arguing with him, just so he’d get louder, and his voice would get more intense, and you’d be able to fuck yourself to completion to the sound of him speaking.

Your poor, neglected pussy clenched around absolutely nothing, begging to be filled by his dick, his fingers, your fingers, a toy, a hairbrush, fucking anything. Your panties were absolutely sodden— drenched to the point of forming a transparent little spot right above your cunt.

If Patrick had looked over, or, if he had unfocused his eyes just right and peered into the reflection of the TV screen, he would’ve been able to make out the sight of your fingers, moving steadily, desperately against your clit. If he had done that.

Your toes curled just slightly, thighs closing around your hand as you got closer and closer. It was loud— just how much you were moving. You needed— god, you needed so much in that moment. You grabbed a random plushie— a pink rabbit that you probably got with that years’ Easter basket— and held it over your lap. Yeah, that worked. Super casual, perfect way to hide the way your hand was working your clit.

And the pressure. Jesus Christ, the pressure of the warm stuffed animal over your cunt was too nice to resist. You’d have to throw it away after, you knew, but you couldn’t help but grind yourself up against it. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was his lap, or his thigh, or something warm and soft and hard for you to rut against.

But you couldn’t close your eyes, because you had to watch Patrick. To make sure he didn’t know what you were doing. An arm slung behind his head, the muscles highlighted by the shiny sheen of sweat there. You whimpered pathetically, muffled into the pillows. He probably heard, he pretended he didn’t. It was that level of feigned ignorance that let you keep going.

He probably knew, you could pretend he didn’t. The razor’s edge between you and a much needed, earth-shattering orgasm hinged on that level of ignorance.

So you pathetically humped against your fingers, and the stuffed rabbit, and chased at the bliss that was so fucking close you could taste it like metal on your tongue. Your thighs squeezed around the rabbit as you came, soaking through and making even more of a mess of your panties, and the rabbit, and your sheets, and your fingers.

You hadn’t realized how loud you were breathing. It was like someone had been holding you underwater and you could only just now hear the world with a shocking sense of clarity. Your body felt hot all over, your legs felt like jelly. You hid the stuffed rabbit beneath a discarded blanket, a problem for later. Legs crossed so you could hide the soaked mess between your legs.

Sure, you could play that off.

“You could’ve asked me to leave,” Patrick said around his cigarette. There was a twist to his lips, a sense of amusement. “Nah, you probably didn’t want me to. Too busy eye fucking me while you defiled that poor little bunny.”

He stood, noticeably hard in his shorts, which you weren’t looking at weren’t looking at weren’t looking at. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, all while wearing the smug sort of expression that got you to this position in the first place. Really, it was all his fault. His eyes trailed up your legs, to the glistening mess coating your upper thighs, and the sheer mess of your panties.

“Huh.” His hands moved up your thighs and you exhaled shakily, parting them more to accommodate him, whatever he wanted, whatever he was thinking. You could come a thousand more times just for him, at his every whim. But that was the repression talking, not just because of him.

Your breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and he peeled them down. His expression held the same sort of concentration that you saw him exhibit on the court. Focused on you, it made your heart pound.

“No wonder you were so loud, huh?” He teased, fingers gliding through your slit. It was embarrassing how wet you were, coating his fingers and palm in your arousal. Each light brush against your clit made your thighs twitch, made a desperate keen escape you. “I could hear it the second you started, by the way. But even before that, I could fucking smell how turned on you were. You could’ve said something, you know. I would’ve taken care of you, made it real nice.”

You moaned softly, eyes wide as you peered up at him. When he removed his hands from your pussy you fucking whined— pouting as he held his fingers up to the light and grinned at the glistening mess left behind. You watched those fingers disappear between plush lips, tongue sweeping out to clean them up. His cock jumped behind the shorts he wore from want.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you insisted, sitting up to rub him through the fabric. “It’s hot, we’re both horny and bored. Just use me. It’ll feel nice.”

He didn’t take much convincing. He’d been rubbing his dick raw on that stupid fucking inflatable mattress every night when you were asleep anyway. How could he not? You were just too adorable.

@poppy-metal your mind amazes me no words no thoughts just this <3 thank youuuuuu for this in my inbox it truly kept me fed

#i wrote this on the clock hashtag girlboss #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig fanfic #patrick zweig smut #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader

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thedeviltohisangel · 3 days

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For A Fortnight There We Were: What About Your Quiet Treason?

a/n: some more early days of ev/cal. featuring a little vacation for them with her friends, some miscommunication and some feelings being brought to light. also once again features evelyn's friendship with the tellers because i am obsessed with them and think the four of them could get into so much trouble together. as always, i continue to insert her into the modern day whenever something pops up but please feel free to send blurb requests for them as well! so much of their future and the angst i have kept a secret and i am so proud of myself. love you all!

She knew looking in her DMs or Twitter mentions was never going to end well. They were a sordid place of opinions and accusations and no matter how much positivity was sprinkled in, it was so hard to see. After pictures of her lounging on the deck of a yacht in the Amalfi Coast with a lanky man with brown curls kissing her neck were publicized a few days ago, she hadn’t been able to look away.

They were flooded with screenshots of Callum’s Raya profile, allegedly still active, and more private DMs of WhatsApp conversations that showed the cell phone number Evelyn had saved in her own contact for him. Her melancholia was threatening to swallow her whole as she curled up on her side on the boat’s salon.

“Hey! You were taking awhile so I-” Kelleigh paused as a barely repressed sob shook Evelyn’s shoulders. “Babe, oh no, what’s wrong? What happened?” Kelleigh dropped next to her on the couch and hugged her as best she could, her cheek resting on her arm.

“It’s easier if I just show you.” Ev sat up and handed Kelleigh her phone, her knees drawn into her chest as her friend’s eyes skimmed the screen.

“All this could be old, Ev. It might not mean anything.”

“The messages are dated from a few weeks ago while I was in Toronto.” The words of them seemed innocuous. Pleasantries and laughing emojis and memes. It was irrational but it felt like something special about their blossoming relationship was being taken away. Like him sending photos of Golo or his morning tea to these girls meant they meant as much or as little to him as Evelyn. “I’m so fucking stupid for falling for it.” Her forehead hit her kneecaps as she tried to hide her shame.

“We don’t know what exactly we are looking at yet,” her friend cooed, “this could all be one big misunderstanding.”

“It’s my fault. I should have never let myself get attached. I should have known better to wait until everything with Logan was finalized.” The universe was punishing her for being happy. For falling in love with someone else while she was still married.

“Cal is fucking crazy about you. Your heart and your gut know that and know how you feel.”

“He hasn’t even asked if we are exclusive. Doesn’t call me his girlfriend.” Kelleigh sighed and reached to grab Evelyn’s hand. She knew Callum was confused and conflicted. Last night, after their group dinner and hours of dancing, Evelyn and a few others tucked themselves into bed but Cal had stayed up for one last cigarette. Kelleigh had stayed up with him to pick the brain of the man one of her best friends was falling in love with.

“Evelyn is like a sister to me and Miles,” Kelleigh started, “I watched the way her marriage ate her away. And somehow her divorce feels even worse. If you aren’t going to be there for her for the long haul, you should go now before it’s too late.” It was obvious with the way Evelyn looked at him. The way she blushed and giggled at his every word and every touch. The way she had held his hand like a vice at the club and fed him bites of her dessert at dinner. All of the friends who knew her before Logan saw that version of her finally seeping back into her bones. Callum was most certainly the cause of it but if he was going to fly her high and leave her to crash to earth on her own, she needed to know now.

“I am living the happiest days of my life with her. Being with her like this makes me feel like I am exactly where I’m meant to be.” God, he straight up fucking loved her. But that was too complicated to introduce. “But I don’t know how to navigate shit with her and her ex.” None of it was normal, all of it was new. Were they dating? Were they supposed to start calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend?

“She’s just as confused as you, I promise. Do you want something real with her? Something with labels and commitment? Even if it means putting up with Logan and his bullshit?” Kelleigh felt like she was hyping up the man in front of her. Trying to spark that passion in his chest to fight for Evelyn tooth and nail the way she deserved.

“I do. I want that. But not at the expense of her peace and stability.” Logan was incensed with every blurry photo or DailyMail tabloid story that came out about them and Ev took the brunt of it. If his presence in her life was adding fuel to that fire, maybe his departure was as necessary as it was tragic.

Kelleigh scoffed, “Just another fucking way he’s trying to control her.” Callum snuffed out his cigarette and moved to stand in front of her.

“You know her best. If I just straight up ask her to dive in with me, ask her to commit to this feeling between us and put a label on it and run off into the sunset with me, will she do it or am I just scaring her away?”

She had told him that Evelyn would in a heartbeat. Wanted to tell him she thinks her friend really loved him. Was maybe getting some semblance of hope back for her future. But now, looking at the screenshots her friend was showing on her phone, maybe she shouldn’t have been so encouraging.

“Ev? Evvie?” The deep, British voice belonging to the male in question reached their ears, Callum standing on the deck of the boat toweling off as he looked around for her. “Hey, there you are.” All their friends that had been splashing around the Mediterranean waters were climbing back onto the yacht to get ready for dinner. The last thing Evelyn wanted was to cause a scene or have her personal emotions on such public display.

“Here I am.” She stood in the hopes she could run off in the name of getting ready to avoid him but he was over to her side in two steps and bending down to kiss her. Both her hands on his chest served to stop him but the way she turned her face so his lips barely kissed the side of her head served to freeze his heart. “Gonna go get changed for dinner.” Her back was to him in an instant and he stayed exactly where he was as she disappeared down the spiral staircase to the cabin they were sharing. The same cabin where they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms every night and woken each other up with kisses and caresses. The same cabin where he had made love to her over and over again with the softest and gentlest of touches. A tenderness only a lover could possess.

“Did I miss something?” he heard the first whisper.

“I thought they were good.” Went the second whisper.

“If you could even call them a they,” was the final straw before he was following after her. He tried the doorknob to the room but it was locked and his heart started pounding in his chest.

“Ev? Please let me in.” His forehead dropped to the door and he swears he heard the sounds of a sob. Her sob. The sobbing of the woman he loved. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me in so I can fix it.” Clearly he had upset her. Clearly something had happened in between waking up naked and twined together and playing with each other’s fingers and now, refusing his kisses and locking a door between them. Her feet padded closer and he stood up straighter. There was sniffling. She was definitely crying.

“There’s nothing for you to fix, Callum. I expected too much from you. I’m used to being let down by my own expectations and I should have known better.” His brows furrowed together and panic began to set in.

“No, you…you deserve the world, Evelyn. You’re right. I haven’t been doing my best in giving that to you. Haven’t been as open and honest with you as I should have.” She wanted to laugh. Of course even now he was saying the right thing. Promising her he would change if she would just give him another chance. Promising he could and would do better at being the partner she deserved in this life.

“You’re seeing other girls.” It was unfair and she knew it. Nothing between them was defined and she had only asked that he not sleep with anyone else if he was going to sleep with her. There had been no conversation about dating other girls. Evelyn had been afraid to make it so real.

“What?” He didn’t try to stop the incredulity from seeping into his voice. “What…Where…Who is saying that?” She finally opened the door and he was greeted with ruddy cheeks and damp eyes.

“All day I’ve been getting screenshots of you on dating apps and of conversations you’re having with them and I’m sick to my stomach thinking about it.” Evelyn felt used. Felt dirty. Felt like every accusation she had defended him against was for nothing. That maybe she should have heeded their warnings.

“I didn’t delete the profile because it felt like signing you up for something you weren’t ready for. Like if I took this too seriously then I’d be pushing you away.” There was no use in lying about it. The profile was his but he hadn’t been using it. To be honest, he thought she’d be more freaked out by him deleting it because that would signal his view of their relationship as serious.. A conversation they hadn’t had yet and he was hesitant to bring up. “And yes. A couple of them I gave my number to. Texted and flirted and whatever else it is people are sending you. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen, Ev.” She turned and walked deeper into the cabin, Callum following and closing the door behind him for privacy. She landed in the chair of her vanity with a heavy sigh and looked at him like she could see his soul.

“Are you sleeping with other girls?” His face contorted in disgust.

“No. Absolutely not.” The one aspect of their relationship that they had defined. That under no circumstances would they have sex with someone else while they were having sex with each other. As if either of them had even looked at someone since their night in Chelsea months ago. He ran his hand through his hair with frustration. “Fuck, Evelyn, I’m trapped between wanting to dive head first into this thing with you and acting like it’s just some casual fun between friends.” He was at such a loss. Keep his options open so he looked like he didn’t care and could put the pieces together if she dropped him. Worship her on his knees until she offered him some kind of idea of the future.

“Well,” her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, “I’ve come to a decision about that this afternoon.” Callum braced himself for the impact. Figured she had been in here working on ways to let him down easy. Break his heart in two rather than millions.

“You don’t got to say it, Ev. I’ll pack my bag while you’re at dinner. Be out of your hair before you get back.” The towel was tossed into the corner of the room with a hint of anger as he felt tears well behind his eyes. The woman he loved, slipping from his grasp. He had agonized over every word and action to try and prevent this from happening. Had accepted the complications that came from being with her while she was still legally married. Still going through her divorce in the public eye. Even though it was ending, it had all been worth it for these months they had shared together. He just wished it could have been forever.

“That is the last thing I would ever want.” She stood and walked towards him, her forehead resting between his shoulder blades. “I never want to be without you, Callum, that’s what I decided this afternoon. That it all hurt so bad because of that fact.” Her arms wrapped around his torso and he tangled their fingers together, bringing the back of her hand to his lips.

“I don’t ever want to be without you either,” he whispered. He twisted in her embrace so they were chest to chest. Her eyes captured his own, strong and sure in their conviction that she was doing the right thing.

“I’m falling in love with you,” she revealed. “I need you to know I’m not scared. I’m ready for this to be a real relationship. I’m ready for the labels and the commitment. Ready to be with you in every way that I possibly can.” The thought of him being someone else’s, in any capacity, had scared her to her core. She had never felt so possessive over someone or something. Never felt like she owed it to herself to try so much.

“Say that again,” he hummed against her lips. He urged her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed.

“Which part?” she asked breathlessly as her back hit the mattress and he landed on top of her.

“The part about falling in love with me,” kisses draped across her jawline, “or maybe how you are ready to commit to me,” down her throat, “actually, I also liked the part where you want to be with me in every way possible.” So badly did he want to lose himself in kisses along her chest and throat and all the inches of her skin that were exposed by her skimpy bathing suit. But this moment felt like he should look her in the eyes. Memorize how they looked back at him and held someone on the precipice of falling in love.

“I’m falling in love with you,” she smiled and traced her thumb along the lines of the smile that was spreading across his face. “I’m ready for commitment with you. I want to be with you in every way possible.” Callum laughed, a full throated and powerful laugh, ducking his face into the crook of her neck. Evelyn’s own pure happiness bubbled out of her in a laugh as she hooked her legs around him and held him against her tightly.

“Am I supposed to call you my girlfriend now?” he asked as he lifted his head.

“And you can be my boyfriend, just as if we are back in school.” His nose knocked against hers twice before his lips landed on hers.

“I know it wasn’t easy for you to say those things, Ev. I want you to know they mean everything to me. Being with you means everything to me.” He knew that the road ahead of them wasn’t going to be easy either. That it was marred with traps hiding in the shadows, maybe some even in plain sight, but at the end of it was something so golden and pristine it would have to be worth it.

“No more pretending,” she whispered. No more walking separately into a restaurant. No more distancing themselves at night clubs. No more solo trips to the grocery store or posting photos without him in it or hiding the evidence he had spent the night with her.

“God, I’m going to kiss you so fucking much at dinner tonight.”

And he did.

And she felt loved.

She was.

#callum turner #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fic #callum turner x oc #evelyn

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saltpepperbeard · 5 months

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#EXCUSE THE LITTLE SPIRAL HERE QKDJWJS but I just want to talk it through as a crew #Feeling very very gracious towards David’s lovely message #But also feeling sad #Because I was happy to see him being so quiet and being so secretive #Because to ME that seemed like a good sign that negotiations or some kind of discussions might be taking place #And that there subsequently might be some sort of intense NDA #But now with THIS…#Idk it just feels like we just took so many steps back #Like to me it reads as though there are NO current negotiations #And that we’re actually still just suspended and have BEEN suspended #Which…jakdwjdnwjdwkdk #And no I don’t understand how all of this works so who KNOWS what’s really going on the background #But idk man. Idk.#Not to be such a negative nancy either when I’m usually so energized #But I was just sort of taken aback and wanted to see what yall were thinking too #Things just feel a little more…DIFFICULT again #praying for some hope and ALSO praying that jac makes a thread for additional clarity AKDJWJ

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coco-loco-nut · 2 months

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Revelations

pairing: Daniel x reader

summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr

request are open pookie masterlist part 2

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Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.

You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.

“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.

“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.

“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.

“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.

“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.

“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.

Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?

I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.

Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend

Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.

Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.

Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.

“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.

“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.

“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.

“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.

“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.

Last car in, good luck Daniel

I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race

Ok, Daniel, whatever you say

The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.

“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.

Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.

Does this mean I’m off the couch?

Focus.

Sorry.

And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.

LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.

Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.

Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.

“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.

“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.

“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.

“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.

“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.

“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.

“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.

“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.

“THE KIDS?!”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo imagines #oscar piastri #max verstappen #christian horner

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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 9 months

Text

Vacation: Part one

PART TWO PART THREE

Pairing :: OPLA!Sanji x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Oral(f recieving), Semi-Public sex(they did it in an alley), Light teasing

Word Count :: 3,373

Summary :: After being forced on a vacation at the Baratie, you catch the eye of a certain blond cook who loves to tease you.

A/N :: I was trying to find the right mix between pervert simp anime Sanji and suave charming live-action Sanji. There will for sure be a part two.

Go watch the One Piece live-action.

“I see a place we can stop to make repairs, Captain Tommy,” You said, eye still focused on the small floating mass in the distance.

You worked on a merchant ship for a wealthy businessman named Greylock. You were his top secret contract negotiator. The reason you were a “secret” was because he never introduced you as a negotiator. You would always find your way to sneak into his potential clients’ and contract partners’ inner circle to figure out what type of people they were and what they wanted. With this personal knowledge, you would then come up with the best plan of action to secure a beneficial deal for the business. It was easy for you thanks to your typically quiet demeanor. You knew when to stay silent and read the room.

Captain Tommy, Greylock’s business partner, set a course for the wooden structure floating. “Let’s hope the owner’s kind enough to let us port for a while.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to repair the damages?”

“The storm banged us up pretty good, not to mention all the scrapes we’ve gotten from pirates.” He glanced around the ship. “I’d say at least three to four weeks.”

You cursed quietly under your breath. “Greylock isn’t going to be happy about that.”

Captain Tommy shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do. The ship’s falling apart. We won’t be able to make it to a port town before the ship sinks.”

You knew Greylock would be upset once you told him, so you took precocious measures to alleviate the anger.

You stood with him on the deck, watching as you approached your soon-to-be temporary home. "You know sir, you've been mentioning wanting to take a vacation for a while."

He sighed, shrugging. "That's because I'm getting older and tired of working. I became a merchant to see the world, not to work endlessly."

"Well then, how about you finally take that vacation now while we repair the ship?"

He turned his head to give you a weary look. "Take a vacation while the ship is repaired?"

You nodded with a smile. "Captain Tommy told me it would take at least three weeks to repair the ship. Instead of worrying about work, you should relax during that time."

"(Y/N)-"

"And you can give the crew a chance to rest. Were y'all dreary from that dreadful storm, not to mention the attacks we had to endure before?" You patted his shoulder. "You know what they say, a happy crew is a dutiful crew. And a tired crew typically ends up killing someone."

Grey lock laughed at your made-up saying, but you were able to persuade him. "You're right. We've been working too hard recently without a break." He looked out once more, finally in the distance to see the name of the place you'll all be staying for the next month. "Lads!" He shouted loud enough to grab everyone's attention. "I want you lot to enjoy yourselves at the Baratie. Think of our unscheduled stop as a surprise resort! Haha!"

Immediately the crew lit up. While everyone cheered and began to talk about what they'd do with their spare time, aside from repairs, you looked up at Captain Tommy. He had a small smirk, giving you a wink. He knew if anyone could get Greylock to give the entire crew a break, it'd be you.

You walked into Baratie behind Greylock and Captain Tommy. It was typically for the three of you to grab a bite together whenever you arrived at a new town so that you could discuss your work objectives. Today, however, it was simply a meal between friends.

A fish man greeted you at the entrance, accepting a small fee before allowing you to take your seats.

You looked over the menu, wondering what to try first. You'd be around for a while and we're sure you'd get to try a few items on the menu before departing. Greylock and Captain Tommy chatted with one another, used to your silence. They knew that you spoke when you felt you needed to.

The swing doors to the kitchen flew open. You glanced up from the menu, seeing a blond man to have caused the small ruckus. He looked upset, brows furrowed and tight lips turned down.

'I wonder what got him so riled up,' You thought.

You kept your eyes on him, noticing he was making his way to your table with a tray of bread rolls in hand. When he was about halfway, he noticed you sitting right of Greylock and his mood instantly seemed to pick up. After his eyes locked with yours, his gaze lit up and a dashing smile graced his lips.

Seeing his mood do a complete one-eighty after spotting you, you shot your eyes back down to your menu. 'Please don't be our waiter. Please don't be our waiter. Plea-'

"Hello gentlemen and fair lady, my name is Sanji. What would you like to drink to start you off? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock."

Almost throughout his entire introduction, you could feel his line of sight fixed on you. He didn’t mind that you didn’t look at him. It allowed him to sneak a glance at your chest without being noticed.

"Anything fancy would be a waste on me. I'll just have a simple whiskey to start with," Greylock said. Captain Tommy put up two fingers, requesting the same.

"And what will you be having, darling?"

"Hm… I'll have a sweet tea."

"A sweet drink for a sweet girl understood."

Your eyes shot towards him, a little shocked by his straightforward demeanor. He gave you a quick wink before walking away.

Now, it was time for the old men to act like school girls.

Greylock started the teasing first. "Awe, our little (Y/N) has a young man who's interested in her,"

"And by the small blush on her cheeks, I'd say she's interested too."

"Wh-what blush?" You stuttered, only now feeling the heat center in your cheeks.

"The one that's covering your entire face." Captain Tommy laughed.

"Shut up. I was just caught off guard by his remark." You practically shoved your face into the menu, embarrassed to face the men before you any longer.

They continued laughing for a moment before talking about what to order.

After Sanji came back with your drinks, it was time for you three to place your orders. Again, your colleagues ordered before you. This time though, you spoke right when Captain Tommy finished his sentence.

"And I will have the seared ahi tuna."

"Do you want the chocolate sin cake after for dessert, love? It's so moist it'll melt in your mouth, I promise," He said in a sultry tone for no other apparent reason than to get a rise out of you.

And once more, you were left stunned and your face was heating up. You were certain he was only teasing you, but you were still upset giving him the presumed reaction he wanted.

"She would love the chocolate cake!" Greylock's hand patted your back hard, causing you to fall forward a bit on the table. "It's been a while since she's had a good pastry."

“Coming right up.”

He left with a swift turn on his heels and when he was out of sight you glared daggers at the two accompanying you.

“What do you think you’re doing, sir?”

“Trying to make sure you have a fun time here.” He took a swig of his whiskey before continuing. “Listen, you’re always working hard for us, and you rarely make any time for yourself.”

You sink in your seat a bit. He was right. On the rare occasion you did flirt with others, it was to secure a deal, and then, you were gone.

“Plus, the boy’s easy on the eyes. You’d be mad to not give him a chance.” He bursted out laughing.

Captain Tommy was a bit more comforting with his words. “You probably won’t interact with him much, so don’t mind him.”

Choosing to believe him, you relaxed for the remainder of the meal. ‘Captain Tommy’s right. As long as I don’t come here again, I probably won’t run into him.’

Too bad you had a crew that loved to go out because about two days later, you found yourself back at the Baratie. This time, Sanji wasn’t your waiter which you were more than thankful for. Captain Tommy and Greylock might’ve teased you a bit, but the men with you now would have embarrassed you so much you would never step foot out of your living quarters again.

Around mid-way into your meal, you excused yourself from the table to go use the restroom. While walking down the hallway, your attention was on the various paintings that decorated the wall.

Since you weren’t paying much attention to what was in front of you, you collided with a firm chest. You nearly stumbled back until a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you in place.

“Ah-! I-I’m so sorry! I should have been paying attention to where I was… going…” You looked up at the person you had bumped into, locking eyes with a familiar blue-eyed blond.

He gave you a large grin, replying. “No need to apologize madam. I should be the one apologizing,” You tilted your head, “for disturbing a fine piece of art like you.”

You immediately turned away, hoping he wouldn’t catch your growing blush. “Can you please let me go?” You asked timidly.

You felt his hold tighten for a quick second before letting you go. Without another word, you rushed past him to the women's restroom.

Sanji watched you run away, a playful grin plastered on his face. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with this one,” He mumbled, already missing the feeling of your body pressed against his.

This would be how every interaction you had with the blonde cook and occasional waiter, played out. You would try to be formal with him, he'd make a flirty or suggestive comment, and then you'd start to blush or stutter.

Typically it was whenever you went to eat at Baratie, but there were a few occasions when he managed to catch you outside.

"I must be in heaven because I'm seeing an angel before me." You tensed up in your seat and froze upon hearing Sanji.

You were at the small outdoor bar next to the giant fish-headed restaurant. Around the end of the first week, you noticed that the place had a pretty good view of the sunset. Sure, you saw the sun set often, but you rarely actually watched it fall below the horizon line, disappearing until morning. It was a minor peaceful event you wanted to enjoy on your supposed vacation alone.

The sky had already darkened by this point. You were just around to finish the drink you had.

"Good evening, Sanji."

He sat next to you, pouting playfully. "Come on m, (Y/N). We've known each other for over two weeks now. There's no need for you to keep acting so stuffy all the time."

You crossed your arms. "I'm not stuffy."

"Yes, you are. Every time I see you it's always a quick sentence or two before nothing but silence. I'm starting to think you don't like me."

'I wish it was that simple.' In fact, you were having the opposite reaction. You were used to making contracts and business deals with people when you spoke to them. You weren't used to being openly flirted with for no reason.

Like always, you avoided making eye contact with him. This time, you fixed your attention to the remaining ice cubes in your drink.

He leaned closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Or maybe, it's because you're too shy to admit you like me," He whispered, hot breath hitting your ear and sending a tingle throughout your body.

You snapped your head around, face burning up when you saw how close he was. That damn coy smile plastered on his perfect lips.

He chuckled to himself, brushing a strand of your hair out of your face. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Why do you keep messing with me?" You bluntly asked. Frankly, you were getting tired of his game, even if you weren't entirely sure what this game was.

This was the first time you had caught him off guard. He leaned back a bit, tilting his head. "What makes you think I'm messing with you?"

"If you actually had an interest in me, you would've told me or showed me by now. You just keep saying sweet nothings to mess with me and I'm sick of it," Your voice was growing frustrated, finally voicing your opinion. "I'm trying to enjoy my vacation, not be bothered by some- Hey!"

He grabbed your hand, lifting you from your seat with a tug and pulling you away. You followed, partly because you were unable to pull away and partly because of curiosity as to where he was taking you. He led you to a small alley a bit away.

Before you could question his intentions, he leaned down to press a firm kiss onto your lips. His hands fell to your hips, holding onto you with a firm grasp and locking you against the wall behind you. Almost as if he were afraid you’d try to escape. His nerves were quickly set to rest when you began kissing him back, your hands holding his shoulders. His tongue licked your bottom lip and you gladly parted, allowing him to shove his tongue in your mouth.

After some time, he pulled away and began trailing kisses down your neck. As he did, you felt his hands wander to the button of your shorts.

Feeling him work to undo them you asked him, “What are you doing?”

He pulled away, a coy smile still on his face. “Showing you that I have an interest in you.”

He began to pull your shorts down and you felt your heart begin to race. You weren’t directly out in the open, but if someone going down the main walkway happened to turn their heads they’d spot the two of you.

“Sanji, wait- What if- Ngh!”

He started rubbing your clit through your growing wet panties, chuckling at the quick response he got. “‘What if’ what, darling?”

You glared at him, trying to voice your concerns, but again, he continued to distract you with pleasure.

He knelt down on one knee, grabbing your left thigh, and hooking it over his shoulder after completely removing your shorts. You watched with half-lidded eyes as he pushed and held your underwear to the side, revealing your pussy. He stuck his tongue in first, licking up your folds while maintaining eye contact with you through his blond locks. He continued this motion and you bit your bottom lip, hoping not to make a noise.

He wasn’t having any of that though. If there was one thing he loved, it was to know he was doing a good job. At first, he had started to tease you a bit because he thought you were cute when you got flustered. As the days went on, he noticed that you might not have said much, but you couldn’t hide your physical reactions to him. Your face was almost always flushed around him. Your grip on whatever you held tightened with the simplest of sentences. It made him wonder what type of lover were you? Quiet, non-verbal, highly responsive to the slightest touches, etc.?

He had just never gotten you alone to figure it out, until now.

He sucked your clit, earning a squeal in response. Your hands immediately shot down to his head, grabbing hold of his hair.

‘She looks so cute trying to stay quiet.’

He could feel his pants tightening around his crotch, watching you squirm because of his touch. It was getting difficult for you to stay up with one leg, especially when he slotted two fingers into your wet cunt. He curved his fingers in you, moving them slowly at first before picking up the pace to match how quickly he was flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Sa-Sanji, I- I don’t think I ca-can last much longer,” You whined.

Even without you telling him, he could tell you were getting close. Your walls had started to tighten around his fingers and he had to hold the thigh of your standing leg to support you. He would’ve loved to have you come undone around his tongue, however, for his first time with you, he wanted to fully see your expression.

He pulled away and you let out a loud sigh of relief, panting a bit. You were a little disappointed you hadn’t finished but were hopeful to continue this in a more private enclosed area. Your head was a bit fuzzy though, and you didn’t pick up on the small noise of him undoing his trousers or when he completely pulled down your panties.

He grabbed your thighs and housed you up to position the head of his penis right at your entrance. When you felt it rub against your slick folds, your eyes widened. The two of you watched as he pushed his cock in, seeing it disappear in your cunt. He groaned, eyes rolling back for a moment at how tight you were wrapped around him. You whined, feeling his length fill you up.

Slowly, he rocked his hips back and forth, giving you a chance to adjust to him. He watched your face with amusement, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment in your expression. You were still biting down on your lip, hoping to be as discrete as possible given the situation you were in.

With one swift hard thrust though, you let out a moan. Your legs wrapped around his hips and your arms around his shoulders. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, allowing him to clearly hear all your little whimpers and mewls of delight.

After hearing your moan, he began to thrust harder, wishing to hear more of your voice. You could hear his grunting too, breath growing heavier and heavier with each stroke inside you.

No longer needing to hold you up with both hands, one of them slipped underneath your shirt, sliding under the cup of your bra. He groped your breast, happy at how soft it was in his hand.

The harder he continued to thrust, the shakier your moans got. You were getting close to your release again and he wasn’t far behind, his own breathing now becoming ragged. Now, with each thrust, he could feel your walls tighten around him. Wanting to make sure he got a good look at your face when you came, he briefly removed his hand from your breast to tug your hair back. With your face pulled away from his neck, he plastered his lips against yours, shoving his tongue once more in your mouth. After, his hand returned to groping your breast.

His grip on your thigh was so tight, that you were sure there would be markings. With how hard he was kissing you, your lips were bound to be puffy when he stopped.

Your mind was becoming foggy and all you were focused on was the pleasure you were in, no longer caring someone caught you. You moaned against his lips, your entire body growing tense in his hold. Your walls clamped around him, finally hitting your high.

Seeing your eyes fall shut, engrossed in the feeling of climaxing, combined with how your cunt squeezed against him, he hit deep one last time before unraveling himself. His cock pulsed in you, dumping his entire load inside, savoring how your body milked it.

He pulled away from the kiss, each of your breaths now shaky trying to regain your composure. Your head fell back against the wall, eyes remaining on him.

“What do we do now?” You asked.

“We plan out the rest of your vacation. You’re here for at least one more week, right?” He kissed your cheek. “That gives us one more week of fun, darling.”

#one piece imagine #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #sanji x reader #sanji smut #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji smut

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

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I finished watching the new spiderverse movie- Im OBBSESED with miles M, Miguel and hobie tbh.

Sooo.. if it’s not a problem, could you write hc’s for either miles m, hobie or Miguel please? :)) it’s fine if you don’t want to, I really do not mind <33

Luv youu <3

Miles Morales, Miguel O’Hara, Hobie Brown

Relationship Headcanons

How about some relationship headcanons for all of them?

Miles Morales

He’s so sweet when you guys are dating. He doesn’t have much to any experience when it comes to dating, so he’s kinda basing it all off of media he’s watched or read, and from what he’s seen between his parents.

He brings you cheesy gifts on your anniversary, like flowers or those really big teddy bears that’s holding a big plush heart. Hed also go out of his way to get your favorite cake or dessert, and if you don’t like sweets, hed get you something else.

He loves kissing, Miles would do that thing where he lifts one of his legs when you kiss, like in the cartoons. The best way to distract him is to kiss his cheeks or lean over and kiss him on the lips. It always makes him lose his train of thought, and makes him cover his face and giggle.

Miles loves holding your hand, you two can always be caught holding hands in one way. Be it by intertwining your fingers, or just locking pinkies when you walk. Its one of the best ways to help ground Miles when he’s stressed, since just feeling you hold his hand helps him focus on something other than stress.

His parents love you, since you are nice and respectful, and never refer to them by their first names, and you make Miles so happy. They’ve seen how mushy Miles gets, and he almost has hearts above his head when he talks about you, so they’re happy that he’s happy.

Miguel O’Hara

Miguel is a little more subtle and quiet about his love for you. He’s a pretty jaded guy, and has a deep fear of losing you. So, when you guys start dating, he might be kinda standoffish or scared of getting close to you, since he fears he would love you too much or somehow scare you away.

Shows his love in quieter ways, like bringing you your favorite drink or letting you lean against his shoulder when you are tired. It would take a while before he would cuddle you back or kiss you on the lips, but Miguel would always kiss you on the forehead or the top of your head.

Is a little insecure about his fangs or claws, since they come right out of the bottom of his fingers and don’t act like normal claws. When he sees you don’t mind though, it helps lighten the insecurity a bit and after a while hed grow comfortable, and would stop hiding them.

When he feels completely safe and secure in your guy’s relationship, you see a whole new side of him. He’s such a secret cuddlebug its insane. Look at him and tell me he isn’t touch starved. And now that he has you, there will be no way for you to escape his strong arms. Don’t get it mixed up though, he’s the little spoon and cuddled against your chest, not you against his.

He always kisses you like you mean the world and the stars to him, like its gonna be your last. This is because a small part of his brain is still constantly scared he will lose you, or that he’s gonna die on missions. Because of these fears he might need some hugs and kisses after missions.

Hobie Brown

Hobie is an easygoing guy, so he wouldn’t make the biggest thing out of you two dating. So, if you are one for big displays of affection of devotion, he wouldn’t be your guy. He likes to keep his love more subtle and on the quiet side, just for you two and no one else.

Would still bring you small gifts, like his guitar picks or a cool shirt or jacket he made for you. He loves when you wear his clothes and will wear yours too if possible. The moment you agreed to date him you pretty much signed up for him raiding your closet for anything he likes. And he probably looks better wearing it than you ever did too.

Isn’t a mushy guy, but still likes to cuddle as much as the next guy. Doesn’t care about being big or little spoon, just wants to get close to you, especially after a long and stressful day, or if you’ve ever gotten hurt in one way or another. Because dating Hobie would probably end up with you getting hurt every now and then, but dating Hobie also means you know how to defend yourself too.

Hobie is the kind of guy to start wearing a chain with a lock on it when you two get serious, it’s the most visible he is with his love for you. He’s also extremely loyal, no one could even catch a smidge of his attention with you around, so you would never have to worry about him cheating.

Writes songs for you and about you, they can get a little cringy sometimes, but you love them anyways. He would also just make up songs on the spot when you guys are doing stuff. Like about how much he loves your hair, or your outfit, or how you smell good today.

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

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Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it #bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable #they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon #they WOULD #“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY #nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me)#(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk)#this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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luveline · 9 months

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jade if I’m not too late and requests are still open, can you write bombshell!reader and spence’s first kiss? secretly I think it would be funny if the team saw a hickey on her neck or something that she didn’t expect but oh how I love how soft she is for spence

ty for your request ♡ fem, 1.2k

"It's classic, comfortable anger-excitation," you say, hitting the flat of your ballpoint pen against your fingertip, a repetitive tap. "But his geographical profile is everywhere. No one place is untouched, but if he's as practised as we think he is, he'd kill away from home."

"Then he's not practised, he's an expert," Hotch says in the seat beside you. "He knows to divert our attention."

Your tapping increases. Spencer takes a few steps back and puts his hand over yours. You glance up at him. He mimes a deep breath for you to copy. You do it without complaint.

You're so focused on being perfect that sometimes you forget to breathe. You're very good at being perfect, in Spencer's opinion, perfect hair, perfect face, perfect frenetic hands. And you're doubly perfect at whatever this is, smiling at him with an unquantifiable emotion in what's probably the prettiest set of eyes on planet Earth.

Spencer puts your pen on your notebook and goes back to his board. The locations of each murder are tacked into a map. You weren't kidding when you said everywhere.

You're in one of the poorest places in America, and the police station reflects that. There's no conference room for you guys to work undisturbed, and the beat cops and deputy alike can hear and see everything you're doing. Most have the manners to leave you alone, but you're you; you tend to draw attention.

You've taken up the pen again, clicking and unclicking incessantly. It's an annoying sound but you're not aware that you're doing it, too determined on cracking the case before anything worse happens. Your team knows to ignore you, or even to disarm you. Emily snags the pen from your hand with a friendly laugh. "Jesus, you're tightly wound today."

"Mm," you murmur, struggling to pull yourself from your notes. A few more seconds and you look up with a blinding smile, "That's because Spencer skimped on my neck massage last night."

"Come on, pretty boy," Morgan says, though his heart isn't truly in it, "I thought you knew better."

Spencer shakes his head. You and Spencer had very separate hotel rooms and no sensual touching occurred, but he loves how happy this running joke makes you, so he stays quiet.

"He knows everything," you say, backtracking, "That's why he's gonna make me a cup of coffee. He knows exactly how I like it."

He leaves to make you a cup of coffee, but he was heading that way anyway for his own. He's thinking to himself that coffee is a bad idea and that he wishes he was better at saying no to you when you follow him in, your arms already open as you close the two or three steps to his chest and hug him over the shoulders.

"You didn't say anything when you left," you worry, your embrace overwhelming, sweet and soft and with a loving squeeze to round it off. "I wasn't being bossy, was I?"

You can be, but not this time. "Shut up, you know I'll make you a cup of coffee whenever you want it."

"That so?" you ask.

There's an excess energy you haven't managed to kick today racing through you. He can see the restlessness in your smile, no matter how glitzy.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Spencer's poorly kept secret is that he's obsessed with you. You dote on him, you tease him, you torture him, but Spencer wants all of it and more. He likes being the centre of your attention, loves how your fond flirtation has changed to plain affection, and he would do anything you asked him to if it meant you were gonna kiss his cheek at the end. He thinks you're beautiful and electric and a thousand yards out of his league, and he thinks you're the nicest woman they ever made under all your bravado because not once have you encouraged that line of thought —you like him for him. You don't want him to change. You don't need anything from him he can't give to you.

His simple question transforms you, your glossy lips perking immediately into a smile. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You seem tense. I've never given a massage before, but I can actually try," he offers.

Your hand cups his cheek, your voice aglow with a saccharine quality, "You're lovely, that's why. Maybe I'll take you up on it later–"

"It's not like–"

You'd been attempting a sweet thank you, and Spencer was brushing it off, but somewhere in the middle of it you'd gone up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Spencer —idiot, uncoordinated, inexperienced, is going to hate himself later Spencer— turned away from your touch to argue with you, directing your lips against his.

Soft, sticky, pretty lips pressed to his.

You set back on your heels quickly. Your eyes are wide, beautiful but flared in shock, a sheepishness tugging your brows together as you say, "I'm so sorry."

"It's my fault," he says quickly, braceleting your wrist in his hand, "I'm sorry–"

You both lean back in for a second kiss at the same time. Spencer's head angled down and your chin tipped ever so slightly upward, you close your eyes as he closes his, completely silent. It's not often you're quiet. Spencer doesn't mean to, but he kisses too hard, too much, forcing your hand from his cheek as he grabs you either side of the head to keep you in his reach.

Your breath comes out in a huff that lights his nerve endings on fire, the barest hint of your voice tacked to it like a sigh of relief, like you're taking the edge off in the circle of his arms. Spencer's hand slides behind your head to hook you in, your lips parting at the seam from the pressure. You feel the heat of him and respond with vigour, your hand a nagging demand at the small of his back, pulling him closer, closer, as his other hand trails down your arm.

Your elbow bumps the coffee mugs, it really is his fault, and you spring away from him like you think you've been caught. Smiling, a kid with her hand in the cookie jar, you throw your gaze around the room to check you're still alone before stepping forward to laugh against his mouth.

That's a good sound. A great reaction. You have more patience than Spencer, dotting kisses thick with lip gloss up into his top lip, your mouth just open enough for him to feel faint.

"It was really an accident," he says between shorter, kinder kisses.

"I know," you murmur, words smushed. You steal a last rather frantic one before you stop, breathing funny, hands smoothing down the hair you'd mussed initially with sorry tenderness. "Was that okay?"

He puts his hand on your hip, refusing to gratify what feels like a silly question with a response when you can't not know he's been wanting to kiss you for weeks. Maybe months. "Are you sure you're fine?"

You smile at him like you know something he doesn't. "I'm sure, Spence. I think I just needed to do that."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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allforhee · 3 months

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ੈ✩ — 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 (ONESHOT) | PARK SUNGHOON

୨୧ pairing — streamer/gamer!bf park sunghoon x fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — dating sunghoon was like flipping two sides of a coin. on one side, it felt like you were dating the sweetest introvert known to man. but on another side, you felt like he was the loudest extrovert (and gamer) that ever lived. you tried living with it, in this little bubble. but when sunghoon starts acting sensitive and eventually forgets your anniversary, that fragile bubble finally bursts.

୨୧ genre — non!idol au, established relationship, angst BUT with a fluffy ending cuz why not, shy!sunghoon but open when he's only with you

୨୧ warnings — cursing, sunghoon being forgetful, miscommunication trope (i'm sorry), bottling up feelings, arguments between you and hoonie :(

୨୧ word count — 1,752 words, 9410 characters (NOT PROOFREAD (cause midterms sucks ass))

୨୧ author's note — sorry for the mini hiatus y'all i have my midterms!!! #busygall but y'all have seen gamer!bf hee, but what about sunghoon? i feel like he's quiet on the outside but his gamer side is so.. this for my ice prince (but with a heart of gold) girlies... sorry for the angst!!!!!!

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

opposed to his loud and obnoxious friends, he tended to let out a small chuckle instead of a crackling laugh. at first (and around you), he was like that.

obviously you two liked each other in secret, because sunghoon didn’t know what to say, and you weren’t sure if he liked you back.

so when you two started dating, where you would stay over at his place more often (and eventually it felt as if you two moved in together), was when you found out about his gamer side.

turns out, behind the striking radiation of his monitor, was a completely different sunghoon. instead of his usual quiet self, he was loud as any other streamer. you could practically hear his laugh echo through his apartment as he did his streams.

you didn't want to disturb sunghoon in the middle of his streams, so whenver you needed something, you'd text him (even if he won't reply immediately, it was a good try).

but over time, you got more comfortable around each other. sunghoon even told you that "it's okay sweets, just call my name and i'll respond."

so you did. you started with little "what do you want for dinner?"s and a "i'm gonna go to sleep, okay?"

the first few times you'd do that, sunghoon would answer with a sweet "um, do you mind getting some takeout?" and a "okay sweets, sleep well."

but then, he would get easily irritated. his sweet replies turned into sharp responses like "just get whatever you want, i don't care."

you understood that you were bothering him. you saw on his screen how he was losing the match (maybe? you didn't understand what he was playing), and you didn't want to anger him further. but you knew at one point, the bubble would one day burst.

it was a friday. but it was your 6 month anniversary. you had everything planned, you planned a dinner with him, and got him presents. you especially got him a custom made keyboard keycap with your initials engraved, and one of a little penguin. you were determined to make today special.

you woke up at seven, seeing your boyfriend's still sleeping figure, ready to start the day by making some fresh waffles for the two of you before you had some uni classes at ten.

you had everything decorated, the waffles drizzled with honey, and a little sticky note next to it that wrote "happy 6 months hoon <3" and two cups of steaming hot coffee.

you got ready and dressed up, waiting for sunghoon to come down. the clock's hand at the number 8. but slowly, the hands on the clock that hung on his wall moved. from 8 to 9. the ice in his coffee slowly melting. the waffles no longer warm with the love you made for him.

you wanted to wake him up. but after his sensitive behavior at you a couple weeks prior, you were scared.

when your phone read 9.50, you realized that sunghoon wasn't waking up anytime soon. so you packed your bag and wrote a little note under the previous sticky note reading "i'm off to uni, enjoy and i can't wait for tonight :)" to let sunghoon know you were at uni. so you left.

thankfully, you only had 2 classes, so by 3pm, you were on your way home. you were excited to see sunghoon, half expecting him to wait for you by the door with his arms open.

you were lucky you hadn't expected 100% that sunghoon would be there. because the moment you stepped in your shared apartment, you felt emptyness.

the plate of what once was filled with waffles on the table was half eaten, his now empty glass of coffee sitting in the sink, and the sticky note you'd left on the ground. it wasn't crumpled or anything, but you were hoping he atleast read it.

knowing it was a friday and that sunghoon would be back from uni at 5, you determined to get yourself ready for that night.

you wore his favorite dress. you did your hair the way he liked. you had everything ready for him.

you sat in the living room waiting for sunghoon to come home. the time on your phone read 5.03pm. he should be wrapping up his classes now.

but you knew this feeling all too well. this feeling of deja vu as the clock's hands slowly moved from five to six. six to seven. seven to eight. before you knew it, it was almost 11pm as you were in the bathroom washing off the streams of dried mascara from when you were crying.

the moment you heard the apartment door open, you had no expectations. even if a little piece of you hoped that he'd come home all dressed in a suit, a hanful of flowers, and a plausible excuse to his lateness.

but as you stepped downstairs, makeup slightly washed off from the dried mascara, was when the words "what are you all dressed up for gorgeous? it's 11pm," slipped from his mouth. finally, that bubble burst as your fractured heart finally broke into pieces.

there he was, still in casual wear, hair slightly a mess, clearly reeking of alcohol. he was out partying.

that's the moment sunghoon sobered up. the sound of your sobs. never in your six months of dating has he ever seen you in this state. yes, you had arguments left and right, maybe some tears from rewatching la la land for the hundredth time. but never this.

"no no no, sweets what's wrong?" he asked, his once drunken eyes now filled with worry as he tried to pull you into his touch.

"you don't get it sunghoon, do you?" you snapped at him, swatting his hands away. you never used his government name. it was always hoonie, or baby. but never just sunghoon.

"get what sweets? why are you wearing my favorite dress? if you had told me this i would've come home earlier." sunghoon defended.

"you seriously forgot? you ate the waffles, drank the coffee, i even wrote you a note! were you just so caught up with your stupid games that you just forgot?" you ranted. you had enough.

"what sticky note? i woke up at ten and the place was practically empty, i saw the waffles on the table and the coffee and i just assumed that you made breakfast and left for uni." sunghoon proclaimed.

"you know what? i'm gonna go to bed. i can't handle you anymore. just go scream at your monitor, or- whatever." you sighed, heading upstairs into your shared bedroom.

sunghoon sighed, his hands on his hips, before running a hand through his hair. at that moment, he spotted the small heart sticky note under the dinner table. he hunched over and grabbed it, before he read what you had written on it.

the moment it clicked, he rushed upstairs. your six months. six. he can't believe he forgot.

as he stepped into the bedroom, he saw you in that dress, about to take it off. his favorite dress. "sweets i'm so sorry-"

"sorry won't cut it sunghoon. you've been so sensitive lately and all i wanted was to spend some time with my boyfriend! but no, you just had to play your stupid video games." you argued.

"no, you're the one who's been so distant lately! so i've been occupying myself with those stupid games to distract from my thoughts that maybe you would break up with me!"

"but that doesn't justify the fact that you just plain out forgot and left me to rot here!" you screamed at his face.

"i was out with the boys because i was trying to figure out how to tell you i love you!" he confessed, head hung low.

your once dried eyes filled with tears once more. in a panic, sunghoon cupped your face in his hands slowly wiping away the tears away, before you buried your face in the crook of his neck, trying your best not to break into pieces.

"i think we need to work on our communication." you mumbled in the crook of his neck.

"what do you mean, sweets?" he asks, slowly caressing your hair.

"because i love you more, hoonie." you whisper in his ear.

"that's impossible." he pushed you away from the crook of his neck, wiping away your tears as he pushed your hair away from your face. he looked in your eyes with a dashing smile.

his smile felt so infectious, that you couldn't help but shoot him a smile back, "because i love you most, sweets," before he kissed you.

his hands were painfully warm compared to your cold touch, a side effect of hours of waiting in the cold living room.

you smiled into the kiss, pulling away to take a deep breath, spotting sunghoon staring at you like you were his whole world, before you dove into another kiss.

"sweets, you know how much i love this dress on you." he mumbled into the kiss.

you pulled away and let out a laugh, "oh i know, it was supposed to be my little gift to you."

"oh but i probably deserve a punishment for making your heart break like that, i mean you were crying for hours! i'll do anything, what do you want?" sunghoon asked, ready to give you what seemed like the world.

"take a break from playing your games." you asked from him. looking into his eyes.

"well that's not as bad-"

"for a month."

"no no no i can't do that! you know the money i earn from my streams basically funds your shopping habit. i mean how am i supposed to dress you up in such beautiful dresses?"

you chuckled at his response, blushing at how affectionate he was being. "how about just two weeks and i'll make you breakfast every morning? or i could play animal crossing with you?" sunghoon begged.

you sighed into him, finally giving in knowing how much he hated playing animal crossing. he just thought it was stupid and there was no challenge to it. "okay. two weeks, breakfast, and animal crossing. but could you at least teach me how to play your games with you though? i feel bad that you have to hear me yap on about my favorite villagers."

with a chuckle, sunghoon kisses your temple, "for you, always."

taglist; @desistay

back to my masterlist?

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

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Hi luv! Can you please do some headcanons of ghost having a civilian wife who is an absolute RAY of sunshine, but he keeps the fact that he’s married a secret even from 141. And when they do find out they’re just like??? How??? She’s like so cute???

yes ugh, soft!ghost has my heart, he'd be such a cutie obsessed with his wife, I love this, also obsessed with gossipy Soap and Gaz, they'd be so invested in Ghost's life

warnings: none just fluff

You and Simon had been married 3 years, meeting 5 years ago while he was on leave back home and you were visiting family

You bumped into him on accident after losing all sense of direction on a back street.

He was intrigued because most people are frightened by his outward appearance, but you just smiled at him apologizing profusely.

He had awkwardly asked for your number and you gave it to him, going on a few dates before he fell madly in love with you. Completely enamoured with your smile and personality, always giggling and happy, a stark contrast to how he usually was.

You made him see things in a softer light, constantly dragging him to farmer’s markets and gardens, he followed your every whim, just happy to spend time with you.

He had proposed a year after the two of you became official, deciding he couldn’t go another day without being married to you.

A week after the proposal he had to deploy, it broke his heart to leave you but it made him even more eager to come back to you.

You knew most of what his job consisted of, he spared you the more gory parts as they always made you squeamish. The two of you making it a rule to keep your relationship secret, even from the rest of the team.

After you married he made a point of calling you every day from base just to check in, even though he’d see you right as soon as he got home.

On a particularly difficult mission, Simon had gotten hit in the head, his helmet knocked off and thrown to the dirt, a small piece of paper falling out.

Soap rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, noticing the small paper and grabbing at it as Simon reached to tear it from his hands. It was a photo of you, hair messy from the wind, skin glowing from the sun outside, bright smile plastered on your face as you smiled at your husband behind the camera.

“Lt have’ya a lass,” Soap asked, dodging Ghost’s attempts to retrieve the photo. “Tell me and I’ll give it back”. Sick of Soaps games Ghost submits. “She’s my wife”

Word spread quickly through the team on behalf of Soap’s loudmouth, all the men rushing to question Ghost about his secret relationship.

“No shot you married her, she’s so.. Cute? Smiley? And you’re so” Gaz is cut off by Simon’s dark stare.

All the men pestered Ghost about meeting you as he continued to decline, Price offering a simple ‘congratulations son’

One day you came to base to drop off some gear that Simon forgot at home, immediately greeted by Soap. “No way” he says, stepping towards you with open arms, pulling you into a hug. You hug him back confused. “Sorry, have we met” “No but I’ve heard a lot about you lass”

Simon rushes out of the base practically tearing Soap off you, giving him a warning with a quiet stare as you tug on his jacket, reaching on your toes to lift his mask slightly, planting a kiss to his lips and smiling before handing him the bag of gear which he takes before running a hand softly over your back.

“This is so strange” Soap responds taken aback by the sight of you two, one tall and brooding, face covered by a skull mask and the other a practical ray of sunshine, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves the top of your chest open to the breeze.

“I will say, you’re much prettier in person, the picture doesn’t do justice” “That’ll do” Simon warns as you giggle.

Against Simon’s wishes you invite the team over for a dinner, the weather was too nice to not eat outside as you got to meet each member, learning more about them than Simon would ever tell you.

“I’m sorry it just makes no sense,” Gaz says as you quirk an eyebrow in question. “I just mean you’re so nice, and the Lieutenant is so daunting” you laugh, “trust me, he’s not so scary with the mask off,” He bows his head in embarrassment as you break down his strict facade.

“So what do you two even do? Gasp does Lt cuddle?” Soap asks almost giggling, Simon swears that he could kill Johnny right there. You spare a glance at your husband before meekly nodding in Soap’s direction as he and Gaz are taken in a fit of laughter, you shrug your shoulders in a silent sorry to Simon.

The team made it a tradition to now show up at your home at least once a week to have dinner and some drinks, or just play some board games, intent on getting to know you better, almost punishing Ghost for keeping you a secret.

Cleaning up dinner Simon slides behind you wrapping you in a hug, a small show of affection he had been holding off on while the team was in view. “You’re telling them too much” As he kisses the base of your neck, you turn your body to him, “It’s nice to get to know them, I like seeing you around your friends” he scoffs as the term, then thinks about it shit maybe we are friends.

The time spent after at work Simon was constantly pestered about when he’d make Price and Soap uncles while Gaz had proclaimed himself as your future child’s fairy godmother.

Simon grew tired of the constant interrogation but felt like a weight was off his chest finally being able to be open about your relationship, though he’d never let the team hear the pet names you call him in private, nor would he let them in on the more tender moments of your time spent together.

The team always telling him that he was nicer when you visited or called him, always nagging to see pictures of the two of you (there were barely any, maybe one where he didn't have his mask on but it was kept secure in the house), and wanting to know when you'd visit.

Ghost was relieved that the team was so nice to you, he'd kill them for even saying a bad word, but he wasn't surprised given your ability to get along with almost everyone, always stopping to say good morning to people on the streets.

They teased him for days after you dropped him off some lunch one time, he had acted angry but he loved the domesticity of your lives, he loved seeing you in his office, a bright figure in such a beige world, he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face at the mere thought of you.

So the two of you welcomed the team into your lives, enjoying the company after living rather solitary. Spilling secrets with Soap and Gaz as Price and Simon looked on, Price with a small smirk on his face, happy that Simon finally found the love he deserved, while Simon sat unamused at Soap's jokes.

#simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost fluff #ghost mw2 #mw2022 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #call of duty mwii #simon ghost riley angst #cod mw x reader #call of duty

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anonymityisfunwriter · 29 days

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we’re still friends

pairing: bucky barnes x reader summary: you're still friends. it's wonderful. it's mature. and though you've changed in your endeavors, you still have plenty in common, like that you're both still hopelessly, irrevocably in love with each other. based on this song - we're still friends - amy winehouse

a.n. - back to listening to amy winehouse records in between listening to TTPD. hope you guys enjoy! 💛

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun's SongFics

you weren't sure what you were expecting.

you thought knowing he would be here would make it easier. it's why you thanked sam for the heads up. you knew he would be here. you had weeks to ready yourself for this moment.

still, nothing could prepare you seeing him for the first time since that quiet separation.

friends.

you were friends, you reminded yourself.

it’s wonderful.

it’s mature.

you’re friends.

friends that have explored every inch of each other. friends that have bared their souls to each other, that know their deepest, darkest, most intimate secrets.

yes, you were friends, but you knew in every fiber of your being that it shouldn't be this hard to see a friend. it shouldn't hurt this much to see your friend walk through the door without you by his side.

"hello… friend."

he gives a shy smile with a hesitant wave. there's a staleness in the air. a tension that makes you so viscerally aware of each and every move you make. each move is strained, rigid, forced like you're moving against tar. “how have you been?”

"good."

"good." bucky offers another half smile. it's impossible for him not to notice everything about you. it's only been a few months. time could only change a person so much. and you hadn't changed. not a bit. it's only because he notices everything about you that he realizes he still hasn't introduced the woman standing beside him when your eyes shift to just over his shoulder. he clears his throat, "oh, sorry, um, this is my friend."

"that's - it's wonderful." it doesn't take more than a split second to know that she's not just a friend. still, because you are just friends with him, you stick out a hand to her, "it's nice to meet you."

she smiles at you, a warm, genuine smile. for some reason, it only makes it hurt more. she looks at you, genuine curiosity shimmering in her eyes, "and you are?"

"um, we're - we're old friends." you're not sure what he's told her. you'd lost your old title. you were just friends now. you jut your thumb in the opposite direction. "it was nice to meet you, but i should go find sam. wish him a happy birthday."

his first clue should be the fact that he almost immediately goes after you. he barely tosses an explanation over his shoulder to his date to go after you. it's instinctive. it's natural. it's what feels right to him.

bucky catches up to you a quick moment later. he reaches for your arm, barely making contact with your skin before he remembers he lost that privilege some time ago. you turn around with a distant, tired expression. "hey, she is - she really is just a friend."

a huff of laughter leaves your lips, "you've been using that word a lot tonight."

"look, i'm sorry, i didn't know what to say," bucky stammers out. "the last time we spoke -"

"it's alright. really. that's what we are now. i mean, we are still friends, right?” that's what he said the last time you two spoke. you parted amicably. that was the story you purported. you and bucky were friends now. there's a long beat of silence. you've picked up the habit of chewing on the inside of your cheek again, bucky notices. “right?”

yes, you were friends. friends that were still hopelessly, desperately in love with each other. but at least you're still friends. at least he still had a place in your life.

he clears his throat, shakily nodding, "yeah, of course. we're friends."

you nod once, offering nothing more than a tight smile before you take off again.

"that looked... intense," sam interrupts as you walk away.

"just a friendly conversation. between friends." the word escapes bucky's lips like he's spitting out a mouthful of venom. friends. just friends.

sam quirks an eyebrow. "you're friends, really?"

bucky's eyebrows pull together as he defensively replies, "of course we are. we were friends before everything. we can be friends after too."

sam crosses his arms over his chest with a small shrug. "i still don't understand why there is an after."

"it just - it got complicated," bucky replies with a shaky sigh. "we called it before things got ugly, before we couldn't stand to be in the same room together, before we stopped -"

"loving each other?" sam finishes the sentence for bucky.

"sam." it's a short, clipped warning that falls from bucky's lips without a second thought. this wasn't up for discussion. that night was not one he was keen on reliving more than he already did.

"i'm just saying," sam raises his hands in defeat. "you stopped fighting before you even had to."

"it wasn't like that," bucky insists, still watching the doorway you left through.

"so what was it like?" sam wonders. "the right person, wrong time?"

"something like that."

"and now you're pretending to be friends."

"we are friends," bucky doubles down. "we've always been friends."

sam quirks an eyebrow. "and how exactly are you friends?"

“what do you mean?"

"you two don't hang out anymore. you don't laugh together anymore. you don't have anything in common."

"we have plenty of things in common.” like the fact that you’re both still in love with each other.

sam grips bucky's shoulder, offering a comforting, grounding squeeze, "all i'm saying, you were so worried about losing her. but take a look, buck, you lost her anyway."

there isn't anything that bucky can say to that. not as he ambles back to his date. sam's words hit him like a ton of bricks. isn't that exactly what he was worried about? losing you. and isn't that exactly what happened? friends to lovers. lovers to strangers. strangers masquerading as friends.

there's a longing look on his date's face that he's sure wasn't there just a moment ago.

bucky gives his date a sheepish, apologetic smile, "sorry, i had to-"

his date looks over bucky's shoulder to find you finally talking to sam. a wistful smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "that's her, isn't it?"

"huh?"

"the reason why we'll only ever be friends. it's her, right?"

for the second time tonight, bucky is rendered speechless. his mouth gapes for a moment, debating the merit of lying. it's not worth it. by the looks of it, his date has seen right though him. "yeah, that's her."

she juts her chin towards you. "you should go after her."

bucky quirks an eyebrow. "i should?"

"you should," she agrees. "i understand. and to be honest, you just reminded me that i deserve to have someone look at me the way you look at her."

"you do deserve that, but no, we, uh, we didn't work out. we're just friends now," bucky states, more as a reminder to himself than to inform his date.

she softly snorts, rolling his eyes, "i know i'm the stranger here, but i don't think you'll ever be just friends with her."

"i'm sorry."

she waves him off. "i'll be fine, but it looks like she's leaving, you should go."

it was the kick in the ass he needed and the second one he'd gotten tonight. bucky nods, "thank you."

the door slams shut behind you as you step into the nighttime air. your lungs painfully expand then clench as you take your first real breath of the night. something about watching the person you thought you'd have a lifetime with stand with another woman was just too painful.

it didn't matter what you promised him all those months ago. sure, you'd pretend. you'd keep up the facade. but you knew down to the depths of your bones that you couldn't be friends with someone you still loved with your entire heart.

"hey!" bucky calls after you.

you jolt at the sound of his voice, schooling your face into a soft smile as you whip around to face him. "what are you doing out here?"

"funny, i was about to ask you the same thing," he half heartedly chuckles, stopping less than a foot away from you. just out of reach. the corner of your mouth twitches up in the most sincere smile you can muster in this moment. it only makes his heart ache even more. "i'm really sorry about tonight."

"it's fine. we're friends, right?" your words are so stilted that you're not even fooling yourself anymore. there's a long, drawn out silence. the silence is your answer. you weren't friends. you couldn't even pretend. it was too soon. perhaps it would always be too soon. maybe you would always love him. but you and bucky would never be just friends. "we can't be friends, can we?"

he takes a long step forward. the familiar smell of your perfume wraps around him like a warm blanket on a blistery day. he looks at you and he can't even remember why he thought you could ever be friends. it doesn't make an ounce of sense to him anymore.

his hand twitches with the urge to touch you, to feel you once more.

how could he be so foolish?

how could you be friends when the taste of you still lingered on his lips? when he could still feel your warmth on your side of his cold bed? when his heart still called out to you with each rising morning and setting sun?

he finally caves to his most base, most desperate desire to simply touch you again. his thumb drags over your bottom lip. "no, we can't."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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waldau · 2 months

Note

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#alternative title: everything everywhere flour at once #scoups #scoups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #waldau writes #req

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perlelune · 1 month

Text

Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | i.

The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You peek from your hiding spot, beneath the lavishly decorated long table. Mom looks pretty. She’s wearing a fancy white dress that likely costs ten times the rent you used to pay. Perhaps more. The diamond earrings she dons, a wedding gift from your new dad, (Your new dad, your mind still cannot grapple with that reality-altering piece of information. You have a dad now, a stepfather), glimmer as they catch the glow of the fairy lights overhead.

She’s laughing. So loudly you can see all her teeth and her eyes are crinkly. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Mom laugh like that. No. You have never seen Mom laugh like that. Not ever. In the eleven years she’s raised you on her own. There have been sad times. Very sad times. Happy times too.

Still, she’s never looked as happy as she does today.

Like she’s on Cloud Ten. Not on Cloud Nine. Cloud Ten. Because there has to be a level above that fully captures how overjoyed Mom looks right now.

All because of this man. Your gaze swings to him. He’s wearing a suit, a white wedding suit, because Mom insisted they match and she always despised - despised not hated - bland wedding tuxedos. Bland anything really. So she picked his suit herself. Just like she did everything for the wedding. Her dream wedding. Something she’s constantly reminded you for the past month.

That this is her moment. Her big moment. One you shouldn’t ruin.

Which is why you’re hiding here. You can’t ruin anything from underneath a table. A silent observer. Quiet as a mouse.

That way Mom can have her moment while you bask in the shock that she’s a Cameron now. And so are you.

“Hey. Why are you hiding at your own mom’s wedding?”

You gasp, startled by the voice beside you. Your head turns. A blond-haired boy is crouched next to you, his neck crooked from having to fit his tall frame in the small space. His blue eyes are wide and curious as they rest on you.

“I-I’m not hiding,” you stammer, shocked that someone found your secret spot. Everyone’s focus is glued to the new Mr. And Mrs. Cameron. Even your new stepsisters are cheering from the circle around them. Sarah’s the loudest. Her thunderous clap and megawatt smile is a cheering squad all on its own.

This is their day.

So you figured your existence must have been forgotten by now. You tossed flower petals across the aisle, just like Mom asked. You smiled for the family pictures. You hugged him, that man, your new dad.

You awkwardly greeted your new siblings. Well, mostly waved from a safe distance.

You assumed your disappearance would go unnoticed amidst the bubble of joy keeping everyone trapped in its spell. But someone slipped away from it for a little while, it seems, broke the spell. Long enough to notice your absence.

He nods and says, “Really? Come out then, since you’re not hiding.” When you dig your pink ballet flats into the grassy dirt, refusing to move, the teenager chuckles.

He plops onto the floor.

“Or we can stay here.”

Your brows knit. We. It sounds strange. Alien to your ears. It’s always been you and Mom. The two of you against the world, jumping over every hurdle life stuck in your path together. There’s just so many kids now. And based on Mom’s recent announcement…there’ll be another one soon. The final knot binding your two families.

Thinking about it makes your mind spin. Overnight you went from being an only child to having three siblings. Well, four in some months.

Saying your world has been turned upside down is an understatement. Everything that used to be up is now down. And the house! Tannyhill is nothing like the tiny apartment you and Mom used to share. The one where the lights used to go out sometimes. It has all these big rooms. A gigantic yard. A pool.

JJ even made fun of you at school because he said you’re a Kook now.

A Kook. You wanted to punch him…and you did.

You will never be a Kook. It doesn’t matter if Mom makes you change schools, forcing you to attend the one on Figure 8, if she buys you new clothes, moves you to a new house.

You’ll always be a Pogue. A fact the kids at your new school make sure you never forget.

You tuck your knees against your chest.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do what I want,” he replies with a shrug.

He brings out a piece of cake from behind him.

“Do you want some?”

You make a face.

“Not hungry.”

He laughs and takes a spoonful of the three layered chocolate cake himself.

“What kind of kid refuses cake?”

“Why are you here?” you retaliate, growing more annoyed.

“Because you’re my new sister,” he states with a shrug. Your eyes round. “That’s what my dad says anyways.” He sighs. “Gotta look out for you and all that.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Well, little sisters are a pain in the ass. Didn’t ask for another one.” His brows furrow. “Didn’t ask for a new stepmom either but…here we are, princess.”

“Princess?”

“It’s what you look like, with your pink ribbons and all the bows,” he says, waving his hand in front of you.

You open your mouth then close it. Mom did go overboard with the pink and the bows. But she wanted you to look cute in the photos. She wanted all the girls to look cute. Adorable, as she said. So you and your stepsisters ended up with those big, embarrassing, fluffy pink dresses.

“Anyways. I’m your brother now. Deal with it, okay?” He scratches the back of his neck, placing the cake on the ground. “Pretty sure if I let anything bad happen to you my dad will kill me.”

You look ahead. Mom’s dancing with the girls now. She pauses momentarily, glancing around, but quickly returns to the dance. She, Wheezie and Sarah bounce in a circle, giggling as they tap their feet to the music.

Your eyes swell with tears.

This is how long it took Mom to replace you. A few seconds.

Rafe’s voice laces with irritation.

“Are you crying?” His harsh tone only drags more sobs out of you. You grip the hem of your fluffy dress to wipe the snot pouring from your nose.

The boy rolls his eyes.

“Girls are so annoying, always crying for no reason.” He plucks a tissue from the back pocket of his dress pants and dabs it against your eyes. He does it rather aggressively which startles you out of your meltdown. “Here, stop.” You blink at him. “I’m sorry, okay?” His blue eyes soften. “I promise, we’re not so bad.” He scrunches his nose. “Well, except for Sarah who’s a spoiled brat…but you get used to it too.”

You sniffle and duck your head. Almost as if reading your mind, he assures softly, “Your mom will always be your mom, so stop crying, okay?”

You raise your head, gaping at him.

“T-Thank you, Rafe,” you mumble between your abating sobs.

He shrugs. “Whatever.”

As he continues wiping your face, your tears slowly drying, you start pondering. Perhaps having a big brother won’t be so bad.

Cheers and applause explode around you as you blow the last of the sparkler candles. It took several tries before all the flames flickered out, plunging the room in total blackness. Your sisters giggle beside you and a contagious smile creeps onto your lips.

“Make a wish, make a wish!” your family chants around you.

You shush everyone which draws more laughs, especially from Mom and Dad. “Guys, quiet. I need to focus.”

You suck in a deep breath.

You close your eyes and make a silent wish. Your smile broadens. It’s easy. You wish for everyday moving forward to be as perfect as this one, as wonderful. A happiness untouched and crystallized like a butterfly in amber. Its paper-thin, delicate wings never shriveling. Its vibrant colors never dimming. Its beauty never waning, never yielding to the fickle whims of time. Every year onwards, you wish to be surrounded by the same love and support you’ve gotten to experience for the last eighteen years.

You wish to always be with family.

When your eyes open, you beam brightly. The fact that familiar faces stare back at you fills you with warmth and comfort. Sarah, your sister, offered to throw the flashiest, biggest party of the year for your birthday. She even made a vision board for it. It was quite impressive actually. She planned on making sure her little sister celebrated eighteen years on this earth with a bang. But you staunchly refused. Not only did you hope to avoid more organizing drama between Sarah and Kie, you wanted something discreet and casual this year. You had no desire to be surrounded by vague acquaintances from the Island Club or the snobbish classmates who only stopped calling you names once they realized Mom was more than Dad’s mid-life crisis.

Despite the twenty-year age gap between them, you’ve never witnessed two people more in sync than your mom and dad. You know every woman on that side of the island has wished for their marriage to fail. You wouldn’t flinch if you learnt there was a voodoo doll of your mom in one of those women’s closets. People figured they wouldn’t last. After all, they are so different. Mom used to be a cocktail waitress at the country club Dad is still a faithful member of to this day. His wife Rose had recently died and they bonded over fishing and sports. In many Kooks’ eyes, Mom will always be beneath them. You can see it in their eyes. Their pinched smiles. Their forced pleasantries. A veil of unbelonging will always cling to you and your mother. Deep down, despite living in this big beautiful house for seven years, you’ll always be Pogues. Not that you’ll ever tell Mom. She lives in a pink-colored bubble of her own making. One you wouldn’t dare pop lest she land in a cold puddle of harsh reality.

Still, you’re happy for your parents.

Even after all these years, they love each other deeply. They still find ways to surprise each other, to make the other feel special.

Alice and Ward Cameron are what true love looks like in your eyes. What it should look like. Unless you have what your parents have one day, you don’t see yourself tying the knot with anyone. Your dad set that standard by being the best man you’ve ever met.

Willa bounces in front of you, displaying her gummy grin. She recently turned seven and her front teeth have yet to come out. It never stops her from smiling all day however.

“What did you wish for?”

You don a cryptic expression.

“It’s a secret.”

Willa pouts, folding her arms dejectedly. Dad chuckles and picks her up. He rubs her back to comfort her, explaining, “She can’t tell you her wish, sweetheart. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

Your little sister gives a reluctant nod. Willa abhors the word ‘no’. Setting limits for her is a problem as she’s so accustomed to Dad surrendering to her every whim. Ward Cameron is what some would call a ‘girl dad’ through and through. It never takes much effort from you and your sisters to convince him and whoever would dare hurt any of you should probably count their days…as your dad would likely have already picked a date and funeral plot for them.

The time for the gifts comes. You sit in a chair at the head of the dinner table as everyone gathers around you to give you their gift.

Sarah got you a coupon for a tattoo. While Dad is livid, she winks at you. The two of you mentioned getting matching tattoos before you leave for college. You’re glad to learn that she hasn’t forgotten.

Wheezie hands you a Sephora gift card. She’s very solemn, adjusting her glasses while giving it to you, which tears a chuckle from you.

“You just always say you don’t want anything, then everyone gets you a super cool gift,” she laments. Mom squeezes her shoulder.

“It’s an amazing gift. I love it, Wheezie.”

Her face lights up at your response.

Willa’s gift draws the biggest smile from you. It’s a handcrafted wooden box covered in seashells, glitter and sand. It has a silver lock with a little key. It’s just so cute and you already picture yourself placing it above your bed or somewhere on your desk in your college dorm. It’ll be a much-welcome reminder of home.

Mom and Dad’s combined gift sits in a square velvet jewelry box. The breath hovers in your lungs, your fingers shaking with anticipation as you open the box.

Your jaw drops.

A gold necklace with a single diamond charm shaped like a teardrop lies on beige satin.

Your hand flies to your mouth. This must have cost a pretty penny.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper.

“Do you like it, sweetheart?” Dad asks.

“I love it.”

A bright grin unfurls on his face at your swift response. He moves forward, collecting the necklace from the box.

“Can I…”

“Of course,” you reply, shoving your hair aside so he can place the necklace on you.

When he’s done, he takes a moment to look at you, his hands clasping your shoulders. “It suits you. Your mom and I picked it out…” His voice falters, unspilled tears filling his blue eyes.

You wrap your arms around him. He hugs you tightly.

“Dad, it’s okay,” you say.

He unleashes a watery laugh. “It’s just…you girls are growing up so fast.” He steps back and hastily wipes the tears in his eyes. Dad loathes crying in front of you. Well, showing any sort of emotion really. You don’t remember seeing him shed a tear since the day you called him ‘dad’. It just slipped out of your mouth one time. It just felt natural after a while.

Ward is the only father you’ve ever known, your mother having divorced your biological father when you were just a few months old. You’ve never met this man, though you’ve heard he has another family on the mainland. You can’t deny you’ve been curious about him at times. But your mother’s lips are sealed when it comes to that man. She rarely talks about that time but you always gathered that his absence in your lives is somewhat of a blessing.

You hug Dad again.

“It’s okay. I promise to visit a lot. For every holiday. And you guys can come see me too.” You try to lighten the mood as you note the sour faces. “It’ll just be four years. Then I can come home and work on getting my real estate license while working with Dad at Cameron development.”

“That’s my girl. Eyes on the prize,” he praises.

“Always.”

He sweeps an icy glance over Rafe.

“If only a certain someone followed your example.”

Your brother flinches. He’s been a bit more withdrawn than everyone else during the party. Besides singing ‘Happy Birthday’, he hasn’t said a word to you. You surmise he’s not too eager to see you leave either. Out of all your siblings, you are the closest to Rafe.

While he was standoffish when you first met, he’s warmed up to you considerably over the years. He’s not just your brother. He’s also your confidant. You can count on one hand the things you don’t share with Rafe.

“Come on, dad. That’s not fair,” you say, trying your best to dissipate the tension in the air. “He’s just on his own path.”

Rafe bolts from his seat, stomping out of the room and heading to the balcony.

Your shoulders slump.

“Not everyone has to go to college to succeed. You know that. And so does Mom.”

“You’re right.” He heaves out a weary breath. “But I’m not mad that your brother dropped out of college. I’m mad he doesn’t care about anything he can’t shove up his nose or get high with.”

Concern scrunches your mother’s features.

“Honey,” she says.

“Alice, he’s twenty-two years old. It’s time for him to grow up.”

Bereft of arguments to defend Rafe, and with your dad being stubborn as ever, you elect to join him on the balcony. The cool night breeze seeps through your clothes. Goosebumps break out on your skin as you shiver by Rafe’s side.

You decide to crack his shell with a lighthearted joke.

“So I don’t get a gift from my big brother this year?”

A smile breaks out on Rafe’s face. He turns to you.

“But you always say you don’t want anything because you already have everything.”

You give him a harmless punch in the rib. He pretends to be deeply hurt by it and bursts out in laughter.

“I’m kidding,” he admits. “I'll give it to you later this week. It’s something you’ve wanted for a long time, promise. There was just a…temporary shortage.”

You acquiesce. You let a comfortable silence hang between you and him for a while before speaking again.

You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about Mom and Dad,” you blurt out.

Shrugging, he scoffs, “It’s fine. It’s not like Dad will stop riding my ass all the time. At least Alice doesn’t have her foot on my neck 24/7.”

You grip his arm.

“They’re just worried about you. About your future.” Rafe’s jaw clenches, his blue eyes set forward. “You know Dad loves you. He’s just not very good at showing it.” Hope laces your tone. “Maybe try to stop by the office more? I’m sure he’ll appreciate you showing interest in the family business.” You shift closer to him, whispering. “Even Sarah can’t be bothered, just so you know.” This makes his hard gaze fall on you. Talking about Sarah never fails to make Rafe’s blood pressure rise. Even after all that time, the two of them can’t seem to get along. “You’re always talking about being proactive and all that. Then be proactive, Rafe.”

He studies you for a while before a slow smirk unfans on his lips.

“You know…that is actually not a bad idea, princess.”

“Of course it’s a great idea. I had it,” you jest, drawing a hearty chuckle from him.

The buzzing of your phone shatters the moment. You startle. You hastily grab it from the pocket of your cardigan.

“Just give me a minute,” you utter apologetically. You step away for a bit. Rafe’s eyes on you are sharp as you check your phone. The message you receive has you fighting a smile. You feel giddy that he remembered your birthday. You don’t even remember telling him it was today. Suppressing the goofy grin threatening to take over the bottom of your face, you return to your spot next to Rafe.

“Who was that?” he asks.

You lie with ease. While you love Rafe, he can be so overprotective. To a suffocating degree at times. No guy will approach you because the mere knowledge that Rafe Cameron is your brother and will surely dole out a severe beating if any guy so much as stares at his sister too long makes most of them steer clear. Some of your suitors have tried, the brave, reckless ones, but Rafe would scare each of them away.

There’s been a boy lately. One who eluded your brother’s relentless scrutiny. Familiar, but also kind of new. Rafe would blow a fuse if he knew who it was. He can’t find out. Not yet anyways.

You slap on a mask of nonchalance.

“No one.”

He gives a nod, licking his lips. He seems to mull over something before narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Are you hiding something?”

Your stomach knots. You try to keep an even, casual tone. You fail.

“I-I’m not. Why would you say that, Rafe?”

“I don’t know. You were acting shifty just then.”

“I’m allowed to have some privacy, Rafe. I’m not a kid anymore.”

His jaw ticks. He takes a small step back, as if your words hit him square in the face.

“But we never had any secrets for each other, haven’t we?”

“Yeah.”

His blue eyes trap yours.

“So who was it, princess?”

You shudder. Keeping things from him is near impossible. He knows you like a book he’s read every single page from. Again and again.

This is how you know your subterfuge can't be a complete success. Still, you stick to your story.

“Like I said, Rafe. No one,” you maintain.

He bends over you, seizing your hand and tucking it against his chest. Your heart skips a beat.

“You know I’m just trying to protect my little sister, right? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, protect you.”

“I know,” you say, a small smile tugging your lips.

He rubs his thumb across your palm, squeezing your fingers more tightly than before. You wince at the pressure. It’s on the thin edge of pain.

“So…you’d tell me if there was anything new in your life, anyone?”

Your pulse quickens. The lie aches as it rises from your throat this time. Needles of deceit. You aren’t used to lying to your brother.

“Of course, Rafe. You’d be the first to know,” you chime, forcing a false, wobbly smile on your face.

He stares at you for so long that it grows unnerving. After an eternity, his grip on your hand slackens. You rub your pulsing fingers, a frown wrinkling your brow.

He crosses his arms over the railing, eyes fixated on the night as he mumbles under his breath, “Good.”

You don’t know how to answer that, a wave of unease, cooler than the night chill, passing through you somehow.

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #dark rafe cameron #pogue!reader

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asterr1sk · 1 month

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no space between us

⊹₊ ⋆ kang taehyun wc: 701 genre: fluff, secret relationship, jealousy a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this. i was giggling so much at the end.

you've been in a relationship with taehyun for months now. it was difficult to keep it low knowing that your friends are basically his friends too. there were some instances where they almost found out, but they guessed that you were just close friends.

all of you went out to the mall and did some shopping. taehyun obviously stuck around you while the others were trailing behind.

"hey, guys! we should get lunch." yeonjun called out to both of you, and they walked closer. "maybe we can eat chinese food," he suggested.

"but i'm craving japanese food right now~" beomgyu countered.

"oh! me too! i want katsudon!" you exclaimed as you grinned at beomgyu. "two versus one!" he said proudly.

"i'm fine with any," soobin said while the other two nodded. "sure, let's go," yeonjun said as he was defeated. you and beomgyu high-fived at each other and started to think of restaurants.

the group finally arrived and ordered food. taehyun can't help but observe how the waiter looked at you differently. maybe he was just seeing things. the food came, and everyone began to eat their food. you noticed that your drink still hadn't come, unlike the others, so you asked the waiter. taehyun saw how enthusiastic the waiter was when talking to you.

"sorry, miss. i forgot," he said, placing the glass on top of a folded napkin. "it's okay," you said, smiling lightly. taehyun, on the other hand, was questioning why your napkin was folded compared to theirs.

the napkin underneath your drink was bothering you because it wasn't balancing the glass. you took it off and unfolded it, seeing what was written. "sorry again for the drink. this was not planned, but i took it as a chance to give you my number. call me xxxxxxxxx :)"

soobin sitting beside you, was being nosy and saw what was written. "oh, a guy is hitting on y/n." he said teasingly, and immediately everyone kept bugging you except for one.

"y/n, for the love of god, get a boyfriend!" beomgyu begged. "will y/n finally break free of the friendzone curse?" kai added while wrapping his arm around beomgyu's, looking like they were praying.

"you guys really have no shame, huh?" your heart was beating fast. not that they were teasing, but you don't know how to react. you tried not to stare at taehyun, hoping not to make this situation worse if someone were to ask what as going on between you two. he was weirdly quiet in this situation.

"i'm sure taehyun would be fine knowing his friend is happy, right?" yeonjun teased, and they continued on. the atmosphere was getting tense. taehyun was still not reacting much, but seeing that he had paid for the dinner, he wanted to get out of that place.

the day went on, but taehyun was walking closer to you than ever. thank god, they still don't question it. kai then saw a photo booth and wanted to take pictures with everyone. all of you were squeezed together in the booth.

they were bickering and complaining with each other, trying to find comfortable positions before taking a photo. since they were too busy, you and taehyun were in a different world.

"tyun, are you okay with that whole thing at the restaurant? i'm sorry that i didn't do-" he cut you off. "it's fine. i decided we should tell the others," he whispered.

"okay, i'll press the button. are you ready?" soobin said, and the timer was starting.

3 2 1... you and taehyun put cat ears on each other.

"another one!" yeonjun shouted.

3 2 1... you pinched taehyun's cheek while he was cupping yours.

"wait! i'll do this pose. beomgyu, do it with me." kai was posing, and beomgyu copied him.

3 2 1... taehyun put a half heart and you jokingly put a thumbs up next to his.

"let's do this together. come on!" yeonjun gave an example, and everyone followed.

3 2 1... taehyun kissed your cheek.

the other four immediately looked at the preview. you looked at taehyun wide-eyed while you heard screaming at the back. he pulled you in closer and kissed you properly on the lips.

#asterr1sk #txt #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt taehyun #taehyun #kang taehyun #txt x reader #taehyun x reader

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cerisereids · 1 month

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a/n- thinking about being out with the team when ur relationship w hotch is still fresh and nobody knows but you’re just too happy to see him u can’t contain it

warnings- alcohol consumption, secret office relationship, reader wears lipgloss, lowkey a little angsty? not for long tho, reader tells aaron everything they love about him,

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

it’s late, the room is spinning, lights are flashing, but aaron hotchner has a hand on the small of your back. you’ll be okay.

“aaron! i’m so happy you’re here!” you gush, throwing your arms around his neck on the crowded dance floor. “hi, beautiful,” he mumbles for only you two, “i think it’s time to head out, yeah?” he encases his arms tighter around you, his natural protective instinct peeking through in the foreign environment.

you freeze in his arms for a moment, his pointed gaze piercing into yours. the alcohol you’ve consumed allows aaron to infiltrate your senses that much quicker, as the woodsy musk of his aftershave mixed with the spice of his cologne floats through your nostrils. the smell is more intoxicating than the alcohol, and you’re certain if he wasn’t holding you, your jelly legs would not have been enough to support you. you completely forget that your intoxicated coworkers stood behind you, watching you cuddle your unit chief with no reserve.

“nooo!” you whine as he gives you a pointed look, lips jutting out in a pout. you watch as his eyes trail down to your glossy lips, sparkling and pink from a gloss that you both know tastes like strawberry.

“come on, sweetheart, you know you have an early morning tomorrow,” he gently guides you to walk in front of him, a protective hand firmly at the small of your back to steer you through the crowd.

“oh, okay!” you teasingly roll your eyes and swat at his chest behind you, “only because you called me sweetheart!”

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

aaron ignores the accusatory stares of his more sober coworkers as the two of you make your way back to the team’s table. you fumble for your purse, which aaron had placed under his jacket 10 minutes ago.

it scares the shit out of him, the way his heart picks up when you smile at him, thank him, like he’s the patron saint of your universe. whenever you look at him with your big, wild eyes, sparkling just for him, a reddish hue rises to his cheeks that hasn’t appeared in years.

“are you ready, sweetheart?” he asks against your temple, steady hand still resting behind you.

“you bet!” you chirp, and he can’t wait to tease you in the morning, “bye everybody!!!!!” you wave enthusiastically, obliviously, to the accusing eyes behind you, “see you all monday!!!!”

“for everyone’s sake, have a restful weekend,” rossi quips. aaron catches his eye for the briefest moment, and he salutes him with his drink. his cheeks flush once more.

once he’s settled you safely in the back of the cab, he allows himself to enjoy the few minutes of peace and quiet with you. your arms are wrapped around his neck as you sit practically on top of him in your seat, and he cherishes the way his temple nestles perfectly under your chin.

“really like you, aaron,” you say in a soft voice, fingers absentmindedly stroking his hair.

he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and meets your eyes, vulnerable and raw, “yeah? y’like an old geezer like me?” he jokes, desperate to slice through the achy longing that’s suffocating the car.

you roll your pretty eyes and shove his shoulder lightly, “you’re not a geezer. you’re just a gentleman. a really perfect gentleman,” it’s your turn to cuddle back into him now, hiding your face as he strokes your back.

“you’re a great leader, great father,” you murmur, lips grazing the lobe of his ear.

“now you’re really just trying to butter me up,” he teasingly deflects once more, fingertips trailing up your forearm.

“never,” he feels your head shake against him as you press a kiss behind his ear. a shiver unzips down his spine as he holds you tighter. “i see how much you care, so does the team, so does jack. you’re so good, aaron.” he shuts his eyes, holds you even tighter, if that’s possible. you keep going.

“you’re so smart, so kind, so gentle. truly an incredible man. i don’t think you’re told that enough,” you pull back, piercing him with a gaze he’ll never forget.

“i don’t think i am either,” is all he can say before he plants a sweet kiss to your awaiting, glossy lips. this moment is worth any teasing that might come from rossi and morgan on monday. he’d go through it a thousand times over if it meant he could share more moments like this.

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florencemtrash · 4 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Thirteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. A walk through Velaris turns for the worse and the secrets of The Book are finally revealed...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It would seem I was wrong. It does not take much for Bethsevah Mordeigh to turn.

I should be ashamed, but the more often Thanatos keeps coming back, the more I come to like him. Make no mistake, he’s as dangerous and volatile as a starving animal, but compared to his siblings he’s a saint.

I saw him kill a male yesterday. One who stumbled upon our hidden ceremony and threatened to come back with Koschei’s army and crush us and the Mother beneath his boot.

But with a snap of Thanatos’s fingers the nameless fae was gone. Gone in a gust of red wind that smelled and tasted like metal. And Thanatos looked stronger for it. His pale skin stopped being so translucent. His hair looked a touch darker, so dark it swallowed all light. A piece cut away from the fabric of the world.

Death is his food. Him and his siblings feed on it and crave it like nothing else.

Except for me.

Thanatos says he craves me. And I think I believe him. I think I’m beginning to crave him too.

Gwyn froze when the mountain’s door slid back. Azriel stood outside Cagniv Library with a bouquet of salt-white water lilies clutched in one hand and pale blue tulips in the other.

“Azriel,” you smiled brightly, the last word you’d meant to speak to Gwyn dying on your lips. “What’re you doing here?”

The midday sun beat down on the face of the mountain, shortening the shadows around your feet.

“I was coming from the House of Wind and was hoping you’d take a long walk home with me. These are for you.” He held out the tulips. “And for you.” He held out the lilies for Gwyn, which she accepted after a brief moment of hesitance.

Azriel looked… lighter. His shadows were stronger than ever, clinging to his body like a second scent, but his eyes held a fondness and love for you that Gwyn had never seen before. Not when he was looking at Mor, not when he was looking at Elain… not when he was looking at her. It was so obvious to Gwyn’s eyes, she was amazed you hadn’t caught on yet. You just looked at the flowers with a touch of color flooding your cheeks. Bashful and uncertain of how to accept such a gift.

“Thank you.” You touched the velvety petals between your fingers as though they might crumble if you weren’t gentle.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Azriel looked at Gwyn, that small smile of his faltering and then growing once more when Gwyn nodded her head. It was a silent acknowledgement. A quiet understanding that didn’t completely escape your notice.

I’m not happy with you. Gwyn’s eyes spoke. But I understand. Her teal eyes flashed protectively. Don’t fuck this up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” Gwyn smirked at you and nudged her shoulder with your own, feeling the soft give of her skin and the strength in her arms.

“Where else would I be?”

“At home. Sleeping.”

“Pffft. Sleep is for the weak.”

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Az. Now shoo.” Gwyn waved you off, watching as you took the arm that Azriel offered and made your way down the smooth steps of the mountain back to the city.

You bowed your heads together, lips barely moving and cutting out two dark silhouettes in the air. Azriel must have said something funny because your gentle laugh carried itself on the wind, weaving into the air like silver thread. Gwyn couldn’t help but smile at you.

If she knew what was about to happen, she would have never let you leave the library.

“They’re in love.”

Azriel looked sideways at you, catching the sweet scent of your hair as you leaned against him. The Palace of Hoof and Leaf buzzed with quiet energy, the air tinged with the scent of sugar from the confectionary booths.

“Who?”

“Beth and Thanatos.”

The book rocked against your hip, matching the beat of you and Azriel’s steps as you walked through the cobblestone marketplace. Lanterns hung unlit from the arches above, bobbing on wire like the bubbles that a pair of hawk-winged children were blowing from the steps of a peach-stone apartment. The girl, blue-eyed and red-haired, nudged the boy, pointing at the Shadowsinger with something like awe. Azriel offered them a faint smile and a few tendrils of his shadows licked at their feet as they scampered away with laughter. It was just a game to them after all.

“I didn’t think he was capable of love,” Azriel noted. He thought back to the memories you’d unearthed with your powers and of the violent ways Thanatos had inched his way into Beth’s life. Wherever he lingered, death followed. But so far as you knew, he was also incredibly protective of Beth and the other priestesses. They’d benefited from his presence even if they were unnerved by it. He’d kept them hidden from Koschei.

“Beth didn’t think so either.” You flinched when one of the marketplace hawkers held his hand out to you. He didn’t shout like the others and seemed grieved when you stepped back into the folds of Azriel’s wings. He opened his sticky fist palm up to the sky revealing a handful of neat caramel candies wrapped in wax paper.

“For the miss.”

Y/n looked at Azriel, who only nodded with a smile.

“Thank you.” You gingerly took them from him, taking a moment to admire the light brown of the confectioner’s eyes, like burnt sugar, and the wisps of candy floss clinging to his shirt like loose threads.

He didn’t resume his shouting until you were a good distance away, deep voice bellowing out over the square that his wares were made fresh that morning. You unwrapped one of the candies and stuck it in your mouth, sighing as it turned around on your tongue, slowly melting. Azriel took one of the candies you offered, but tucked it into his pocket when you turned your head to inspect the baskets of spices laid out on the sidewall.

“But he keeps staying with her. Keeps warning her of Koschei’s movements so she and her fellow priestesses can stay hidden. He… he cares for her. Or at least Beth seems to think so. The information — the story — is more pleasant than I could have hoped for, and I’m eternally grateful she doesn’t go in depth about their activities—”

Azriel chuckled. “So it’s not like one of Nesta’s books.”

“Thank the Mother no. But it doesn’t get us any closer to finding out how to defeat Koschei. She doesn’t even talk about Koschei or the priestesses much. Only Thanatos. It’s just a love story.”

“Love stories are never just that though. They’re probably the most powerful things in the universe. Look at Rhysand and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. I don’t think we’d be where we are now if not for their love for one another. The things they were willing to do to protect what they cared about.”

“Do you ever wish you had that?” You dared to ask. “That kind of love? A mate?” Azriel turned to look at you, eyes filled with more cryptic meaning than you could ever imagine unraveling. There was hope, longing, grief, and a slew of other emotions. Their weight seemed to press in on you, but you didn’t feel overwhelmed.

“All the time,” he whispered. Then he smiled, staring down at where your arm was linked to his. “Do you?”

You turned away almost bitterly. “I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.”

“I would disagree.”

You couldn’t find the words to respond, so you settled on silence. Luckily for you, silence with Azriel never felt uncomfortable.

“If your shadows keep taking them, I’m going to forget how many I’ve selected.”

“I see no problem with this,” Azriel shrugged and continued to follow you around the bookshop. It had stuck out to you immediately on your long walk back to the River House. A squat, two-story townhouse with charmingly chipped white paint laid over sturdy brick and sage green shutters. Candles winked in the afternoon light pressed up against window sills where two fat ginger cats lay purring in the sun. The dark, woodsy interior dripped with books, leather notebooks, and automatic writing pens that hovered over thick pages like butterflies. “We have space in the house.”

“It’s less about space and more about how much I’ve spent.” Your fingers brushed the next book on the shelf and its deep purple binding.

Oh that one’s interesting — a romance between a Spring Court nymph and a Dundarian knife maker filled with adventure, lust, longing, and found family.

You’d no sooner plucked it from the shelf before shadows crowded your hands, whisking it off to whatever ether Azriel kept them hidden in. He wrote the name of the book on a sheaf of paper, his handwriting neat and simple.

You turned on him, arms folded over your chest. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“You are not to spend a copper of your own money here. Rhysand and Feyre’s orders. Just put it on the House’s credit. Rhysand’s already added you.”

“They put me on their credit?” You balked even thinking about the money you’d been given access to.

Azriel nodded. “Consider it repayment.”

“Repayment for what? I haven’t done anything.”

Azriel looked at you quietly, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re the reason I still have a sister-in-law and a niece. You’re the reason we now have a name to investigate and are one step closer to defeating Koschei. You’re the reason the Godswoods and the Gallows haven’t been stolen from yet and a number of Librarians still have their lives. Do I need to continue?”

You thought through what he said. It was true that Helion’s intervention in the Godswoods and the Gallows had been effective. No deaths had been reported since then, but it didn’t make you feel any safer. A snake was still a snake, even when camouflaged.

“Only two of those things matter to the Night Court. Helion owes me for the latter.”

“Then you can have him contact the banks and transfer the sums.” Azriel’s eyes twinkled with mischie. You went to snatch the paper out of his hands, but all he had to do was raise his arm to the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips. You jumped up, one hand firm on his shoulder for leverage, but it was no use. He was too damned tall.

You stood on the tips of your toes to get closer to eye level with Azriel. His eyes flickered down to your lips, the shapes they made as you quietly said, “Thank you.”

You lingered in the stacks for a few moments longer, nervously asked the shop owner to put the list of books on the High Lord and High Lady’s tab — which she did with a warm smile — and then made your way back outside. The bell hanging above the doorway jingled happily, the wood burned sign saying Come back soon! Love, Jessebell.

You trailed ahead of him down the street. Every sign, every shop window display, every street sign — you drank them in like you were ravenous.

Azriel felt Rhys’s presence drift in the outskirts of his mind, and without hesitation, he let him in.

Where are you? What’s taking so long?

Nearly to the Sidra. I brought her to Jessebell’s.

That explains your lateness. Rhys paused. She must have loved that.

Azriel smiled inwardly. She did. She really did.

A female with weathered, dark skin and flowers sprouting from her ears stopped you on the street and although your first instinct was to recoil, you relaxed when she only lifted up a deep black tulip in her textured hands. The wilting flower straightened up when you kissed one of the petals as instructed and the gentle laugh that followed had Azriel’s heart soaring.

Well make sure you get here in time for dinner. I want as many of our family members under my roof as possible.

Is this an ask, or a command?

Don’t make me use my High Lord voice on you.

Azriel rolled his eyes with a smile. I am absolutely trembling. Do you use that tone of voice on Nyx?

He felt as much as heard Rhys’s laughter. Enjoy your time with Y/n, but come back soon. Mor is looking to get her hands on your mate. Mother help us all.

Rhys cut the connection and Azriel was free to admire you once more.

You cradled the bouquet he’d given you in your arms, light reflecting off the petals and casting a faint blue glow on your face as you chatted with the florist. Your smile, which had started out forced and nervous, was slipping into something more relaxed. When the female laughed merrily and touched your wrist, you didn’t flinch.

Dark tendrils of night curled around his ears and Azriel felt a shiver trail down his spine.

Behind you. His shadows whispered. The boy needs help. There’s something wrong with him.

The boy startled back when Azriel turned towards him, tripping over a nick in the cobblestones and landing with a wince on his palms. Glassy pale eyes stared up, wide and terrified. His clothes were rumpled and unkempt and his white-blond hair was a mess of curls flecked with grey, like he’d been rolling around in dust. Pale pink and blue veins rose to the surface of his green-tinged skin, sickly and unnerving. He looked like a corpse on puppet strings.

Azriel looked around, but no one was searching for the little boy. No yelps belonging to scared parents. No calls from a sibling.

“Shadowsinger, sir?” Even his voice sounded sickly, like his vocal chords were disintegrating in his throat.

Azriel immediately dropped to his knees and slid his hands behind his back. “What’s happened, little one? What’s wrong?” His voice was smooth and gentle.

He was too busy thinking that his boy was younger than Nyx, too busy ordering his shadows out to search for the boy’s parents that he didn’t think twice about the lingering stench of blood clinging to the boy’s shoes or the faint pain beginning to grow behind his hazel eyes.

The boy looked around furtively while wringing his grubby hands, and then leaned close to whisper in Azriel’s ear. His pale eyes narrowed in concentration.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a black tulip before.”

“It’s a little secret of mine. You need to get the seed and soil just right.” The female brushed her waist length hair over her shoulder. The knotted strands had the thick, coarse texture of seafarer’s rope, as aged and wise as the rest of her. When you held the flower back out for her to take she shook her head.

“For you, my dear. I have dozens more and I think it would attract more business if you wore it around today. A beautiful creature like you must get lots of attention.”

You knew she was probably just saying these things to get your business, but you couldn’t help the spark of joy the compliments gave you. She helped tuck the flower into the braids of your hair and you felt the petals kiss the tips of your left ear.

“Say.” The female leaned in like she was about to share a secret. “If you aren’t already taken, I have a niece who’d love to have a pretty girl like you on her arm.”

Your blush deepened and you found yourself stammering, “That’s very kind, but I don't-I don’t-'' You glanced up the street. Azriel was kneeling on the ground, head bent down to a small child. You only caught the wisps of white, candy floss hair over Azriel’s broad shoulders.

The female traced the path of your gaze and sighed. “Ahhhhh. I see.” There was a triumphant look in her eyes, even as she said, “Shame. But I’ll still give you my niece’s name if you don’t mind.”

Your eyes snapped away from Azriel’s and you smiled in embarrassment. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Henna.”

You stepped back. Panic froze the blood in your veins and you felt pinpricks traveling up your body, stabbing your heart and your mind. You could see her now. Her silver hair fanned out around her. Her broken body. Her bloodied eye socket, dark and empty.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” You had to have heard her incorrectly. Your head was pounding but you pushed back on your mental wards, shoring up your defenses until the feeling passed.

The female tilted her head to the side. Her eyes were as milky and glassy as pearls. “Does the name mean anything to you, dear?”

You took another step back and the female stepped forward. Her eyes seemed to clear then and her brows furrowed in concentration and pain. She lunged forward, tearing away at your clothes and knocking the flowers of your hands as she begged. “Help me. The boy. He’s inside—HELP ME!”

You surged back, crumpling to the ground under her heavy weight as she continued to pull and claw.

She’d been restocking the back room when the dirty little boy and the tailor showed up in the alleyway. He still carried that bolt of fabric under the crook of his arm. He took out a knife, orange eyes flashing and slit his throat from ear to ear while the little boy watched. Smiling.

“LET GO!” You kicked out, ramming your knee up and into the soft flesh of her stomach like you’d seen Emerie do to Cassian, but you lacked her strength and technique. The female wheezed but didn’t let go, even as others came to try and pry her off of you. Their voices were frantic, trying to calm you down, but they were the voices and hands of strangers.

“AZ!” You screamed, feeling the female sink her nails into your arm.

There was an ugly tearing sound and the cool touch of wind at your chest. Your robes were ripped apart under her rough hands and her eyes narrowed in on your belt and the chain that connected to the book. She bucked off a cherub-faced female with a blow to her nose and blood splashed over your cheek.

“Help me. Please. Oh… oh gods.” She grabbed at the book, but the chain glowed iron hot in her hands. The smell of burning scorched your nose as the magic did what it was meant to do. Nothing could break that chain. Not unless you willed it. Not while you were still alive.

“Oh gods. Oh gods help me. I’m so sorry.” There were tears streaming down her face, tracing the canyons and valleys of her skin. She threw off the fae clamoring around you both and ran with jerky, uncoordinated leaps back into her flower shop. She snatched the gardening shears off the windowsill where she’d been trimming her hydrangea bushes. She wept and shook her head, mouth struggling to open and scream as she held the shears up high and then drove them into her neck.

The scene took a long time to filter through the haze of panic and disbelief.

“Az… Az… Az—AZRIEL!” Your shrill scream pierced through the air. You scrambled away from everyone. Stones shaved away the skin of your knees, your palms. The tattered silk of your robes trailed behind you. “Don’t touch me!” You shrieked at the male who tried grabbing your arm, soft voice whispering.

He wasn’t the one you wanted.

“AZRIEL!”

The female dropped to her knees, hands clutching her throat as blood poured out in bubbly, gurgling spurts. The candy pink strips of her apron turned a wet, sticky black as she crawled back towards the door.

“Oh gods… Please,” she wheezed, wet and agonized, before collapsing face down on the floor. Motionless.

You staggered to your feet twisting away from everyone crowding around you.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t!”

“Miss you must sit. Please—”

“Let me help—”

“Are you hurt? What’s—”

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!”

Screams. The sound of doors slamming shut. Locks turning. Commanding barks calling for a healer. Calling for the High Lord and the High Lady. Calling for the Shadowsinger to help.

Azriel was still kneeling in front of that boy and no matter how many times you called his name and pushed through the crowd of people now rushing up and down the streets in a frenzy, he didn’t get up. He didn’t look at you. You may as well have not existed.

You finally reached him, narrowly missing being run over by a satyr who seemed to have gotten the wrong impression about which direction to sprint in. Every clip clop of his hooves shot through you.

“Az.”

Why hadn’t… Why hadn’t he helped you?

“Az.”

Why hadn’t he come when you called?

The Shadowsinger rose. One hand grabbed the hilt of Truth Teller and the malicious blade sang as it was unleashed. The shadows that normally hovered about him like mist were gone. They were all around you now, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the Sidra. They pleaded for you to run, but you couldn’t understand them.

Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

“Az.” You begged and grabbed hold of his hand. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

Truth Teller shot out and pain radiated up your arm as the blade cut neatly through your clothes and sliced open your skin. You tripped backward, landing with a thud on the street that rattled your bones. Your sleeve turned dark with blood.

You whimpered, holding your ruined arm up to your chest. There was no feeling in Azriel’s eyes. No flicker of recognition. None of that warmth and kindness you were so accustomed to. Just a menacing, silent form towering over you and blocking out the sun.

A pale boy stood by Azriel’s side with ice chip eyes and rectangular pupils. He grinned brightly and the stretch of his waxy cheeks was too tight. Too forced. He shouldn’t have been alive. He-he—

Andrian.

You’d seen him in Henna’s memory. You’d heard the snap of his neck beneath Koschei’s hands. Even now the boy was bent awkwardly, his head left in a perpetual tilt that should have looked charming and inquisitive but instead made you want to retch.

Andrian smiled at you then plastered a practiced look of horror on his face before running away with tears streaming down his cheeks, shouting for his mother. A burly male grabbed his shoulders, alarm on his face as he hoisted Andrian into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. Because who wouldn’t stoop down to help a fragile little boy? Who would dare suspect that the daemati that had roamed the Day Court’s halls and slithered his way into Velaris was a child?

Azriel gripped you by the front of your ruined clothes, hosting you up in the air. Your feet kicked uselessly and grabbed onto Azriel’s arm, trying to alleviate the choking pressure of his hand so close to your neck.

“No. Azriel please. It’s me,” you whimpered. “It’s me.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. There and gone. So brief you wondered if you’d imagined it.

His left hand parted the tatters of your robes, and you flinched when his fingers brushed against your hip before settling on the chain that kept the book tied to you.

Panic seized your soul.

You’d been chipping away at the book’s secrets for months and you couldn’t let Azriel — couldn’t let Koschei — get his hands on it. Not without you knowing what it was that made Beth’s story so special.

You flung a hand out, feeling the leather of the book beneath your fingertips like it was your own skin. Your magic called out to the book, desperate and powerful and familiar, and the barriers it possessed to hide its secrets melted away at your beckoning. You poured every inch of your power into it even as Azriel’s lips turned down in an ugly frown that didn’t belong on his face.

Your eyes turned to gold, bright as the sun as you basked in the knowledge flooding your mind with the force of a tsunami. You didn’t hold anything back. Not this time.

You were so lost in the book — in the emotions and memories wrapping around your mind, sharp and brighter than the light of a thousand suns — that you didn’t feel it when Azriel gripped that golden chain. The metal flared, a high-pitched ring piercing the air as it snapped in two, giving way to Azriel’s power. Nothing should have broken it. And yet there it was dangling from your waist.

You did feel it when he broke your wrist.

When he forced the book from your grasp.

And then stabbed you in the stomach.

Cassian and Nesta winnowed to the street and watched in horror as your body was dropped to the ground. Your head cracked the pavement, hands twitching palms up at your sides.

Nesta shrieked. The sound was harrowing. The mourning, dying screams of an animal.

She charged forward, twin blades flashing in her hands, and silver light shot out of her chest, crashing into Azriel’s shields and forcing him back twenty feet. He gritted his teeth. The rubber soles of his shoes skidded and burned.

Cassian collapsed on his knees beside you, peeling off his leather jacket and wrapping it around your head and neck to keep it in place.

“Shit.” His hands came away bloody. RHYS! FEYRE! He screamed into the corners of his mind, hoping they’d hear. GET HERE NOW!

“Thanatos.” Your voice was weak.

“It’s Cass. Hey, keep your eyes on me ok.” He pressed his hands against your stomach, wings flared out to protect you from the cold burn of Nesta’s power as she went toe to toe with The Shadowsinger. Magic sizzled in the air, raising the hair on the back of Cassian’s neck like a lightning strike waiting to happen. Blood pooled over his hands, thick and dark. “Eyes open,” he commanded, “On me.”

Your eyes were open, and glowing strangely, but you weren’t staring at Cassian. No. You were miles outside of your body.

“The Bone Carver. That’s it.”

“Eyes on me, Y/n. Eyes on me.”

“Thanatos,” your hand twitched, “The Bone Carver. That’s how she did it.”

Nesta screamed, flying overhead in a burst of blue light that had her back slamming into one of the marketplace towers. The white marble cracked viciously and Nesta dropped to the ground, dazed and distracted as blood dripped out from her nose.

“NESTA!” Cassian roared, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as Azriel waited at the bottom of the street.

The Shadowsinger muttered something dark and revolting beneath his breath. Ancient, powerful words that were whispered in his mind. He held onto the book in his hands as it lit up in flames and then blew the ashes into the wind that would carry them all the way to Andrian’s master.

Koschei.

The call of her mate sharpened her senses and Nesta rolled onto her feet, calling her weapons back into her hands and leveling a glare at Azriel that would have killed a lesser male on the spot.

She was Nesta fucking Archeron.

Lady Death.

Queen of Queens.

And she would be damned if she let Azriel hurt her or anyone else.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, Az,” she growled.

She’d been holding back before. She’d been holding back a long while. But no more of that. The power she let out burst through Velaris with light brighter than a dying star, crackling with an energy that knocked Azriel off his feet and sent him crashing into the river wall with a sickening crack that shattered the bones in his arm, his leg, and his wings.

Rhys appeared at his side, violet eyes wide open in shock. He could feel the magic suffocating his brother’s consciousness, burying him so deep there was almost nothing left but anger behind his whiskey-brown eyes.

Rhysand grabbed the sides of his head, shoving his way into Azriel’s mind even while he fought back. Rhys flinched when one of Azriel’s knives nicked his temple, drawing blood that dripped down onto his velvet dinner jacket and floated on the dense material like dew drops.

“Stop. This isn’t you, Az.”

Azriel seethed, teeth bared and bloody. He spit in Rhysand’s face and he winced. Rhysand would never be able to forgive himself for what he did next. But someone had burrowed themselves into Azriel’s mind so thoroughly, so viciously, that in that moment, it was the only thing Rhys could think to do.

Rhysand’s talons dragged down on Azriel’s mental walls so viciously he screamed as they were torn to pieces. He dug in with brutal efficiency. Reaching, tearing, clawing to catch the curl of power that had infected Azriel’s mind before it could do any more damage. He latched onto its slithery, silver body and wrenched it out of Azriel’s consciousness.

When I find you. You’re as good as dead. Rhysand promised.

The daemati slunk away with a giddiness that sent a shiver through The High Lord’s bones.

Azriel slumped, weak and boneless, against his brother’s shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and he shook, blinking the saltiness out of his eyes. He felt like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. His bones were broken. His wings twisted. There was a raging headache that a hundred shots of vodka paled in comparison to.

But it was his hands that horrified him most. Red and slippery.

His breath shook.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember… what….

His eyes shot to Rhys, then up the street where he could make out Feyre, Cass, and Nesta huddled over your still body. The bond sat deep within him pulsing with terror and pain.

“Rhys.” His voice broke. Rhysand angled his body to hide you from view, but it was too late. Azriel was panicking now, body trembling uncontrollably. “What happened?”

Rhysand said nothing. His eyes shined with horror.

“What did I do? Rhys, what did I do?!”

“Cass. Cassian, I’ve got her.”

His hands were shaking. There was so much blood. The smell burned his nose and made him want to throw up his lunch. Feyre covered his hands with her own, peeling them away sticky and red from Y/n’s stomach.

Light flooded out from Feyre’s palms, warm and lovely and Cassian and Nesta breathed a sigh of relief as the flow of red slowed and then stopped, flesh knitting itself back together.

“It’s ok. You’ll be ok.” Nesta’s words were commanding as she held your neck and head still.

Your eyes searched the empty sky, seeing and unseeing. Then your hands shot up, grasping Feyre’s shoulders and digging in deep enough to leave bruises. Your eyes were wide, staring at her with an intensity that spoke of a thousand years. An unfathomable wealth of knowledge that should have crushed you beneath its weight.

“Y/n it’s ok,” she murmured gently, pushing more power into your body, willing you to heal faster.

“Look. Feyre you need to look,” your voice was thick. Wet. Blood coated the inside of your mouth bitter and metallic.

“I’m looking. Y/n, you hit your head. It’s going to be ok. You hear me? It’s going to be ok.”

“You need to look,” you said once more.

You trailed a bloody, weak hand down Feyre’s arm and pulled her fingers up to your temple, tapping once. Twice.

Without any more direction, she slipped into your mind and gasped.

Feyre stood in a pool of mist, white fingers reaching up her legs and splintering outwards before they changed direction and started to climb up into the darkness like trees. Or rather… like bookshelves. The mist formed stacks that disappeared into the distance, endless hallways and shelves that wound around each other. Chaotic and orderly at the same time.

She could feel your presence beside her. Or rather she was you. In that moment she felt the raging winds of your power, hot and ravenous. It wrapped around you, tugging you to and fro like that uncontrollable lurch when you stand too close to the cliff’s edge. The call of the void.

She needed to answer that call the same way you did whenever you used your powers, because somewhere in the halls of your mind stood the knowledge you’d worked so hard to obtain. The truth of how it was Bethsevah Mordeigh was able to trap Koschei, and how to end it once and for all.

Feyre let your magic pull her in the right direction. In the mist she stumbled upon the final memories you’d absorbed from the book before it had blown away in the wind.

Bethsevah wept, “No. No. No. I won’t,” shoving away the reed thin body that held her so close. Thanatos grasped her face in his pale hands, begging her to listen to him even as she shook her head frantically. “I won’t do it.”

“You must. Bethsevah, you must.” His pitch black eyes winked with starlight… or maybe it was his tears.

This world and its people had changed him. He could feel it in his bones. Something very deep and cruel within him had been twisted into something sacred. Something that toed the line of kindness.

Koschei thought it was this element that made fae and humans beneath the three of them. They were supposed to be pure. Powerful. Handing out life and taking it away like the gods they were. But now Thanatos knew better. Now he knew exactly what it was that made Koschei and Stryga worse than even him — they would never be able to care for anyone. Not the way he cared for Bethsevah. Not the way he cared for the world she loved.

“I won’t do it,” she growled.

“Then they’ll die,” he said, with a tone of finality that could only belong to a death god. “Everyone. Everyone you love. Everyone you care about. I know my brother. Koschei craves attention and devotion above all else. He won’t let you worship your Mother. He won’t stop until you all kneel or until you’re ashes in the wind. Beth—” He wrenched her hands back from where she covered her eyes, refusing to even look at him.

He tucked his crooked finger beneath her chin, coaxing her gaze up. Together they were storm clouds blanketing an eternal night. A lightning strike — brief and chaotic and electrifying.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” she whispered, steel laced in her soft voice, “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

He smiled, sad and simple. “I know exactly what I’m offering up.”

“Once I lock you in The Prison, I won’t be able to let you out. No one will. You’ll be trapped there for eternity.” She shivered, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t wish that fate upon her worst enemy, but her mate? She shook her head.

“I know.”

“No, you—”

“I have seen the first fall of snow on a new world. I have seen entire cities leveled to dust with no survivors. I’ve lived thousands of years. I understand.”

“We’ll find a way. Kosch—”

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered, “Back at the cabin? You were made to ruin me, Beth. And I will let you do it a million times over. Without hesitation.”

You and Feyre felt Beth’s pain as acutely as if you shared the same heart.

“I wish she hadn’t done it,” Beth whispered, “I wish the Mother had never created me to be your mate.”

“I don’t.” Thanatos leaned his forehead against Beth’s and got lost in her. “There is no other way, Bethsevah.” He kept saying her name, like just speaking the word and feeling the shapes it took in his mouth would prolong the time they had together. Would tie them together more surely than the bond that burned in their chests.

She felt the battleground slip beneath her feet and no amount of power, no amount of willpower, could change it.

He brushed back her hair and trailed one of his slender fingers down the curve of her cheek ending one teardrop’s race to her chin. “Mating bonds are powerful things, Beth. Your magic — your blood — and yours alone will be able to cut through my defenses and sever me from my power. I want you to take it and lock me away. Once my magic is yours, Stryga won’t be able to see you coming and you’ll be able to take her power as well. So long as you leave Koschei for last it may just be enough power to rid him from this earth once and for all.”

“You’d have me do this. Destroy you and your family. This is what you want?”

Thanatos hesitated. “I am not a good male. But this… this will have to be enough. This is what I want, Bethsevah. For you and your family to live. To be happy and safe.”

“I won’t be happy, “ she said, eyes now flat and dull as the silver coins they placed over the dead, “I won’t take anyone else.”

“I want you to,” he begged, “I want you to marry and to have children. I want you to grow your family so that one day, if I ever do make it out of that Prison, I’ll still see pieces and memories of you roaming this earth. That’s all I want, Bethsevah, and it’s already more than I deserve.”

“I’ll find a way,” Beth promised. “I’ll find a way to get you out. I swear it.”

“Don’t make any bargains with me.” He smiled sadly, thumb wiping away at her cheeks, “That’s what got us into this mess.”

Finally she laughed, just a little. “I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I.”

The memory froze. A moment in time trapped like a beetle in amber.

A hand grabbed Feyre by her shoulders and swung her around. You stood there cloaked in pale, golden light, your eyes shining like copper coins. When you opened your mouth, you spoke in Beth’s voice.

Thanatos told me that magic runs in blood — familiar, same. But mates are different. Powerful. Their magic can protect one another. Identify one another across space and across time. But they can also turn on each other viciously. A lock and a key. Madness and salvation.

What I could destroy in Thanatos, I stood a chance at destroying in his siblings.

Your face fell, hauntingly beautiful in the glow of your powers.

But I couldn’t do it. Not in the way he asked. I took his power. I locked him in that Prison. I bound Stryga to her cabin in the woods. But I didn’t kill Koschei when I should have. When the power of three gods was coursing through my veins and stripping me down to my bones, when I had enough light within me to see the birth and death of stars and the face of the Mother, I couldn’t do it.

I thought I would be capable of destroying Koschei and freeing Thanatos, but I couldn’t do either. I had only enough sanity left to take that power and bury it somewhere Koschei couldn’t touch. To trap him on the lake where he can live in madness knowing his magic is so close by and yet locked away. Unreachable.

I’ve done my part. I’ve had my children. I’ve left my mark on the world, great and terrible as it is. If you’re reading this, my daughters, do what I could not. Take the power in the lake and destroy him. It will open for you, and only you. My power. My blood.

And if you have any love for me at all, find a way to release Thanatos. That is what I ask of you.

Bethsevah’s calls had never been answered, at least not by her children. You knew this much in your heart. Thanatos — The Bone Carver — had freed himself thousands of years later only to die beneath the Cauldron’s power.

You whispered a silent prayer to the Mother. You hoped the Bone Carver was at peace now. Now that he must be with his Beth.

Azriel was screaming your name, broken cries cutting through the quiet of the marketplace. You’d never thought him capable of such a wretched noise.

The High Lady sat shock still above you with tears streaming down her face. Grey eyes glistening.

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Author's Note:

I apologize if you thought I'd forgotten about the plot with Koschei and was just writing cute, fluffy scenes between our favorite Librarian and our favorite Batboy. But you also should've remembered that I burned this girl's house down and had her kill a another character in self defense so... this was coming... sorry...

This is by far the chapter I've been most nervous about posting because it's where I start to tie together all the weird loose threads that have been accumulating throughout this story so I am very much open to feedback on how I can do things better and on how I can make things clearer moving forward. Or! If you thought I did a good job and are intrigued, I'd appreciate it if you let me know that too!

But anyway thanks for reading 😅.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader angst

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