#anyway your ask made perfect sense <3 I hope I answered it well

[papakhan]

do you think benny would’ve just left the courier unburied if he didn’t have the khans with him? that post, especially the ending, really made me think about how much mindless killing you do and kind of can’t get away from along with how dehumanized (i think is what i’m looking for) a lot of the people are. like their only purpose is to be something to shoot at and get stuff from without a second thought about them at all. hopefully this makes sense and doesn’t sound like a big ol mess.

personally I think that Benny would have still wanted the Courier to be buried, but if it was any other gang of mercs it may not have happened. See I think Benny and the Khans may have clashed a lot in their principles but they overlap in a desire to give the Courier a proper burial.

While Benny probably thinks he's being purely respectful, I'm not sure if it's entirely genuine. See, in All Roads he didn't want Chance to be buried and got mad at the Khans for insisting on it. I think part of Benny's reasoning is to do with hiding the evidence. As suggested in this post, most people aren't gonna go digging up a graveyard to look for some missing courier. Then again, we know that Benny looks down on Chance for being an addict so maybe he thinks he's undeserving of a proper burial while the Courier is just a "wrong place wrong time" situation, idk.

It's worth pointing out that this clash in principles is something Benny jabs at the Khans about. His "Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face" is him directly saying "look how much I respect the people I kill, unlike you guys who probably shoot them in the back". I think he's projecting, or at least trying to convince himself and everyone else present that this is the correct way to do things (when it's still fucked up)

Anway, your second point:

I agree totally. Obviously a lot of it is because Fallout New Vegas is a video game where you kill people but I think it clashes a lot with the message of the game itself, but it's just part and parcel with the games going from isometric strat games to an FPS. As you said, a lot of characters and factions get dehumanised and reduced to just guys to shoot. But I do think that more people in Fallout should be like normal people who object to idk... straight-up murdering "Freeside thugs" yknow?

Having two characters who Do morally object to killing people does give me a lot to think about, especially with the way that Sun and Luke both have opposing reasonings behind their dislike of killing. Luke being a Follower who genuinely believes everyone is worthy of life while Sun is a Khan who thinks that the finality of death is not his to deliver. I wish more people explored it because it is genuinely interesting and fun and also more interesting to consider in this wide wide game of "guys who want you dead" they would be okay with putting in the ground

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets - Epilogue

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support throughout the story my darlings! I hope you enjoy the epilogue as well, ILYSM! ❤️

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Thank you to @theskytraveler for helping me with the story and the chapter!

Series Masterlist

3 YEARS LATER

“And this flower right here is called a mock orange, any idea why?”

The cheerful babbling was the only answer you got and you felt yourself smiling wide, turning to look at her better. Camellia was the cutest baby you’d ever seen and you were pretty sure it wasn’t just because she was the most perfect combination of you and Benedict. The only person in your life that remembered you as a baby was Josie, and she swore up and down that she looked more like you than Benedict but you weren’t so sure.

“Very good!” you said. “Because it looks like an orange flower!”

Camellia clapped her hands excitedly, as if congratulating herself for guessing right, kicking her legs back and forth in her high chair, accidentally dropping one of the many pencils on the table in front of her but she didn’t even notice.

“And what about this one?”

“Fwo?”

“Flower, yes,” you said, nodding fervently and she gave you a huge grin. You went to pick her up from the chair and approached the table in the middle of the huge greenhouse.

 “This is your flower my sweet, see? Middlemist Red Camellia.”

She gasped when she heard her name. “Me!”

“Mm hm, the most beautiful and precious flower in the entire world!” you said, tickling her stomach while kissing her cheeks, making her happy giggles echo in the greenhouse. You fixed her hair, still smiling bright and took a look at the paper she was drawing on before, full of different colored squiggly lines.

“Perhaps your papa is right, you are to be a big artist,” you said as you walked to the glass door. “A painter like him hm?”

“Papa!”

“And your aunt Lottie says you will be a writer and your uncle Teddy says you’ll be a sculptor…” you said as you stepped out of the greenhouse into the huge garden, the sunlight falling upon you. You grabbed the little hat by the door and placed it upon Camellia’s head while she held onto you, playing with your necklace.

“So many ideas!” you told her as you passed by the winter garden, enjoying the chirping of the birds. A couple of butterflies flew by you, no doubt because you were very close to the butterfly garden and Camellia held her breath, pointing at the blue butterfly.

“Mama!”

“I can see that my love,” you said, pressing a kiss on her small chubby hand, and walked past the orangery. “They’re very beautiful, are they not?”

She nodded fervently, making grabby hand motions as if trying to call the butterflies to her.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you said, still walking through the main garden. “They all think like that but do you want to know what I think?”

She nodded her head again, still listening to you very intently.

“I think you might just become the biggest botanist in the world,” you whispered. “I mean it only makes sense, no? You already know so many flowers!”

Camellia pointed at the pear tree and turned to you. “Mine? Mine?”

“Let’s get you one then,” you said with a small laugh, reaching up to grab and pick the pear off the branch. You dusted it off, then gave it to Camellia who made a happy cooing sound, trying to dig into it. You raised your head to look up at the house, a warmth spreading through you as your gaze fell upon the window of Benedict’s studio, then you turned to Camellia.

“Let’s go see papa, hm?” you asked her, then made your way to the house to enter the foyer. You hummed a song and climbed up the stairs, then put Camellia down when you entered the hallway leading to Benedict’s studio.

“Go ahead.”

“Papa?” Camellia called out, running as fast as her tiny legs allowed her, reminding you of a duck. She was still holding the pear tight in her fist, and you walked right behind her to make sure you would be able to catch her if she fell. “Papa!”

You let out a laugh as you heard Benedict’s footsteps and he stepped out of the studio, his jaw dropping as he saw her and he immediately leaned down to catch her before she could smash herself against his legs.

“Oh here’s my sweet!” he said as he hoisted her up into his arms, smothering her in kisses, making her giggle happily before he turned to you, that fond look crossing his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Hello my love.”

You smiled, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Hello to you too,” you said, letting out a small laugh as he stole another kiss from you. “I figured you needed a break or so.”

“And you were right,” he said, winking at you before turning to Camellia. “How is she always right, do you know?”

Camellia offered him the pear she was holding and Benedict gasped.

“For me?”

“More like it was for her but she’s willing to share,” you said and Benedict grinned.

“Come on,” he nodded in the direction of the studio and walked inside with Camellia in his arms, and you followed them.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you sang in a teasing manner, pulling the hat off Camellia’s head and Benedict shot you a mischievous look.

“Mm, what am I doing?”

“You think you can turn her into an artist if she spends enough time here.”

“I can’t help if she’s naturally talented,” Benedict defended himself. “I mean have you seen her work?”

“The…the squiggly lines?”

“The squiggly lines!” Benedict nodded, rocking Camellia. “She’s a genius artist even as a one-year-old.”

“I still support my botanist theory.”

“Maybe she’ll be both?”

“As you can see my sweet, no high expectations whatsoever,” you told Camellia who was listening to both of you as if she could understand everything you were saying.

“You can be anything you want to be,” Benedict told her as she rested her head on his shoulder, yawning. “Including an artist. Just saying.”

You walked closer to the canvas to see that the background was almost done, and tilted your head.

“What’s this going to be?”

Benedict shot you a grin and pressed his lips on top of Camellia’s hair. You checked the clock on the wall, then rang the bell.

“That one is going to be her,” Benedict said, softly rocking her and you smiled.

“Aw,” you said gently, and walked to caress her soft cheek with your finger. “Did you hear that my sweet? Your own portrait?”

Camellia sucked on her thumb, her eyes closing slowly.

“Is she sleeping?” Benedict whispered and you nodded.

“She is,” you murmured, rubbing her back and turned your head when someone knocked on the door.

“Ma’am,” Paula said. “Mr. Bridgerton. Would you like me to take her for her nap?”

“That would be good Paula, thank you.”

She smiled and took Camellia from Benedict, careful not to wake her.

“I’ll be right there,” you told her and pressed a kiss on Camellia’s head before Paula walked out of the room with her. You turned to Benedict and he entwined his fingers with yours, pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” you said as he buried his nose into your hair. “Is everything alright?”

“Mm hm, now that you’re here.”

You smiled softly and squeezed his arm. “Are you still tense about the gala?”

He heaved a sigh and you pulled back a little to look up at him.

“Ben, that painting got auctioned and sold in two minutes because everyone was outbidding each other,” you reminded him. “People are talking about you the same way you used to talk about Gordon, everyone agrees that you’re a genius artist, the whole ton—”

“Yeah but it’s different,” he mumbled. “Tonight, it’s only friends and family.”

“Shouldn’t that be comforting?”

“Technically yes but…” he trailed off and shook his head slightly. “Never mind.”

You cupped his cheek, raising your brows. “Tell me.”

“It’s easier when it’s just strangers,” he said with a small chuckle. “Museum owners and Academy directors and such. It’s different when it’s family and friends, and I’d hate it if they thought all those other people exaggerated—”

“Everyone in the Academy and countless artists and museum owners who were on the verge of a fight to get your painting, they all exaggerated?” you asked with a small smile. “All of those people at the same time?”

Benedict thought for a moment. “When you say it like that…”

You let out a laugh and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, and he heaved a sigh when you pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Tonight is going to be amazing,” you assured him. “I promise you.”

He shot you a mischievous grin, then leaned down hoisted you up into his arms, making you squeal.

“Benedict!”

“There’s no harm in starting the amazing night a bit early,” he said as he carried you to the sofa and you let out a laugh.

“Scandalous behavior!” you joked and he winked at you, then leaned in to kiss you.

                                                *

Of course the night of the gala went perfectly, as you knew it would. Both your family and Benedict’s had been so excited and were very proud of him, and you could see it melted away the last insecurity that had been gnawing at him before tonight.

His speech that he dedicated the painting -and his inspiration- to you was enough to bring tears into your eyes but you managed to hide it by burying your face into his arm, earning an “aww” from the crowd. After the speech, people scattered along in the gallery to talk to each other, and if you said so yourself, everyone seemed to be having fun. Benedict was talking to Gordon, Henry, Margery and Lucy by the corner, Anthony and Lottie looked like they were in their own world while Colin kept whispering things to Penelope’s ear, making her giggle. Eloise seemed to be in a deep conversation with Simon while Daphne watched them with a small smile, and you smiled at Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury as Teddy wheezed past you.

“Teddy don’t run!” you called out and he stopped for a moment.

“But I’m being very careful!” he assured you and returned to chasing Hyacinth and Gregory. Your aunt held up her hands, gesturing surrender as she gave him a fond look and your uncle chuckled.

“If he changes his mind about being a sculptor…”

“He can become a professional runner,” you joked and turned to Josie and Bess.

“So yes, we’re going to Paris before the season,” you told them. “Around like a month before, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Andrew will give you a list of things to bring from there, just so you know,” Bess said said and you let out a laugh.

“I’m alright with that. Wait, where is he anyway?”

Josie cleared her throat. “I think he and Felix are in the orangery—”

“The moon garden, my love,” Bess corrected her and you raised your brows, stifling a laugh.

“Of course they are,” you muttered and heard someone calling your name. You turned your head to see who it was, then made your way to Lottie and Anthony.

“Hello you two.”

“Y/N,” she said with a huge smile, still holding Anthony’s hand. “We already said goodnight to Benedict, we didn’t want to leave before saying goodnight to you.”

You tilted your head. “You’re leaving already?” you asked. “Is everything alright? Is Edmund—”

“Oh Edmund is fine!” she assured you quickly and Anthony nodded.

“He’s probably asleep already.”

“It’s just—I tire very easily nowadays,” Lottie said, making you pull your brows together. Anthony and Lottie exchanged smiles and Lottie bounced on the balls of her feet in an excited manner, making your frown deepen for a moment before the thought dawned on you and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?!” you whispered and Lottie giggled, nodding fervently.

“You’re the first to know,” she whispered and you let out a laugh, then pulled her into a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!”

“To both of you obviously—” you said with a laugh, then hugged Anthony as well, making him chuckle as he hugged you back.

“We haven’t told Benedict yet,” he told you as you pulled back. “You know with the gala and everything.”

“Oh he will be very happy for you!” you said and Lottie bit on her lip.

“I wish to be the one to tell him if that’s alright.”

“Absolutely!” you said, waving your hands. “Go on then, go home and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’d better,” Lottie joked and squeezed your hand, then they both walked out of the gallery. You looked around, then took a step towards Eloise but someone touched the small of your back, making you look up.

“Well if it isn’t the genius artist,” you teased Benedict and he shot you a happy grin.

“Come with me?”

“As long as we’re not going to the moon garden because if I walk in on them again…” you muttered and he tilted his head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said and let him pull you out of the gallery. You both passed through the foyer and he led you outside, still holding your hand.

“Ben, where are we going?” you asked with a laugh and he stopped by the main garden, moonlight falling upon you both, showering the gardens in silver. Even though it was the thousandth time you were seeing this gorgeous view, it still managed to take your breath away.

Speaking of things that managed to take your breath away…

You looked up at Benedict, his handsome face under the moonlight, your heart skipping a beat before you giggled.

“Are we sneaking out of your own gala then?”

Benedict shot you a mischievous smile, then shook his head.

“No I merely…I wanted a moment with you,” he said. “Just you.”

You bit down on your lip as he pulled you closer, his fingers stroking over your hair. Your eyes fluttered close when he brushed his lips against yours and you smiled into the kiss, grazing your nails over the nape of his neck, making him heave a sigh.

“Congratulations Mr. Bridgerton,” you whispered. “Your gala seems to be a success.”

He smiled softly, pressing his lips on your temple. “Seems to be, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You hummed. “Is it too early to say I told you so?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Well then, I told you so,” you said, sticking your nose up in the air. “And you should listen to me all the time because to be honest, so far I’ve—”

“I love you,” he said, and your eyes snapped up to his, a smile warming your face. You let out a giggle and pulled him down so that you could kiss him.

“I love you too,” you whispered and entwined your fingers with his, then took a step towards the house.

“Come on,” you said. “It is your gala my love. Let’s go and enjoy it.”

The End.

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐑𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 "𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡"

{{Part 2}}

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.4k (that wasn’t supposed to happen icl)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Kissing, PIV sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, virginal fingering, cum eating, oral (m and f receiving), prone bone position (sorry bruh, very self indulgent here 💀), Olfactophilia, slight jealous Miguel (if you squint), Spanish pet names. MINORS DNI🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel unveils more about his enhanced abilities with you and the air is quickly charged with desire. Yet lurking beneath your connection, there is a sense of uncertainty about the implications of Miguel’s extraordinary powers.

𝐀/𝐍: The chapter title sounded more amusing in my head. I didn’t think this one would turn out this long, I went a little overboard. I had to break down the paragraphs bc I got carried away ;-; anyways hope you enjoy this filth <3

You turned the key and pushed open the door to your apartment with a mix of anticipation and thrill erupting inside your gut. Tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and was very eventful. Despite Miguel’s huge confession that came crashing down on you like a bolder, the night still ended well.

Though, the thought of him being Spider-Man still lingered at the back of your mind and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of your ex-husband being a human mutate the entire time. Yet you still welcomed him inside the familiar confines of your home with a warm gracious smile, the door closing with a soft click behind. In the warm glow of your apartment, you made your way to the walk-in kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You asked, glancing back at Miguel as you placed your purse on the countertop.

“A glass of water would be perfect.” He replied, taking in the surroundings of your home. You were amused by the awe in his expression as you filled two glasses with cold water from your tap.

“Here,” you handed him one of the glasses.

“Thanks” he took slow sips while his gaze explored the connected living room. Your talent for interior design hadn’t gone unnoticed, even during your early days of your marriage when you both moved in together. You would always have a plan on how things would be arranged, and with a bit of trial and error, it usually turned out beautifully. Miguel, on the other hand, left the planning all to you while he would make sure you were still fed after your hard work.

It was a distinctive dynamic you had. Miguel would always make the best dishes from back home and you adored and savoured every bite. You even tried to make empanadas for him once as a surprise anniversary gift back when your relationship was still filled with warmth and closure before you grew distant from each other with him always coming home late at night, probably from his heroic duties that you were clueless about at the time. After you went your separate ways, you would try to replicate his dishes but it would only bring you pain of what you had lost. Speaking of food…

“That baked ziti was amazing.” You commented as you took another sip. It’s been a while since you went out to eat in a high end restaurant. There was never a special occasion or an excuse for you to go.

“Was the food the only thing you enjoyed tonight?” Miguel replied in a teasing tone. You watched his face over the rim of your own glass as he said that.

“The night hasn’t ended just yet.”

“Oh? Care to elaborate on that?” He responded, clearly intrigued. You didn’t give him a verbal answer, instead you put your empty glass down on the counter and took his hand, leading him down the hall and to your bedroom. The anticipation settled in the air as you settled yourself on the bed and gestured for Miguel to follow.

“We’ve got all night. So you might as well tell me everything about Spider-Man, all the details.” You purred, your gaze locked into his with excitement.

“What do you want to know?” He lied beside you in amusement and willingness.

“First of all, what was the first thing you noticed when your genes were altered?”

“You want to get to those details hm? Well, the first thing I noticed was my vision was enhanced, a lot. Along with my strength and stamina. Oh, and the spinnerets in my forearm.”

You hummed in amusement as you soaked in every word he uttered. You couldn’t believe this was where things had ended up between the two of you but you also couldn’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. “Well, look at you. Brawn and brains. What else is there?” You noticed he was hesitant for a moment before he spoke again.

“I'm sure you’ve seen my fangs at one point.” Your body stiffened as you recalled those awful memories of your heated arguments. What you saw from his mouth was real. A hint of relief washed over you knowing that you haven’t lost your mind and Miguel had confirmed it himself.

“I have…and I thought I was just hallucinating.” Your voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you. I should’ve been honest from the start.”

“It’s alright, we’re starting something new now.”— you paused— “So what else haven’t you shown me.” You watched as he lifted his hand and you noticed something unusual emerging from his fingers. You audibly gasped at the sight of his talons. He brought his hand closer to your face so you could get a closer look. It didn’t occur to you how intimately close you were until now, yet there was an undeniable thrill in his proximity. Maybe it was a default habit in your mind that was convincing you that you were still comfortable with Miguel being this close.

With agonising anticipation, he lightly trailed your jaw with the tip of his talons, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. Your breath hitched, feeling how sharp and pointy they were on your soft skin. If he were to press any harder, he would surely pierce your jaw. Not that you were entirely against that; but you didn’t want to raise any suspicions at work the following Monday, especially in a facility like Alchemax. His face was mere inches from yours and you knew where he was heading with this. The air in the room thickened with each passing second.

“You want to see more?” He asked, his voice lowered to a sultry tone. You nodded, unable to form any words.

Miguel leaned in and closed the remaining gap between the two of you. Finally, you managed to seal your longing with an electrifying connection and a scorching kiss. His lips moved against yours passionately making your heart pound in your chest. Miguel must’ve retracted his talons because now he was cradling your face as your mouth moved in sync. However, you pulled away abruptly when you felt a sudden shift in the air.

“My God…” you mumbled, feeling the familiar bugle in his pants.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to get ahead of myself.” He said, though the strained desire in his voice was palpable. “I mean, you’re not on birth control, right?” He held his gaze at you. You could practically feel the desperation in his tone.

“No…” You leaned closer, “but I might’ve got myself the morning after pill from the drug store before this.” You were planning for this moment the day you asked him out and the way his expression dropped, you could tell he picked up on that too. You got them prior to this date and the rest of the night you spend trying to please yourself before your date while imagining yourself with Miguel in bed together. But you knew no matter how much you touched yourself, you’d never reach the sensation that Miguel could give you.

A sly smile played on your lips before you leaned in for another kiss. His arm snaked around your waist and pulled down the zipper at the back of your dress. Once it reached all the way he let the dress pool around you before tossing it to the side. He left trails of wet kisses around your jaw and down your neck, however you had other things in mind. You attempted to reach for his clothed cock as he kept kissing you and gave it a desperate squeeze, making him pull away immediately from your neck.

“That needy, huh?” He retreated off of you and removed his shirt before his pants along with his boxers— his cock springing out in its full glory. You didn’t expect him to stay at the edge of your bed and lean back slightly with his cock still standing on its end. You shifted yourself so you were now on your knees. Suddenly, you felt his hand combed your scalp before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you close. “Don't just stare at it, cariño,” he tugged at you and brought your face closer to his crotch.

“Since when were you in charge?” You quipped, wrapping your hand around the length and swiped your thumb over the pre-cum that was already leaking from the tip.

“The second I realised how bad you want this by getting yourself the morning after pill. Now get to work.” You didn’t expect him to catch you off guard like that, let alone even give you an answer to your rhetorical question but now you could feel your mouth getting dry. Did he know how much of an impact he had on you with his words?

“You better not make a mess on my bed.” You joked but there was a hint of seriousness in your tone. Though you wanted Miguel to leave a mark in your bedroom the morning after, the last thing you wanted was a stained sheet to deal with.

“You realise that means you’re gonna have to swallow, right?” He cocked his brow. You knew he was right and you didn’t have anything against that. If it were anyone else you wouldn’t agree to do it at all, you wouldn’t even let them touch your hair like this; they could just fuck you and leave. But you wanted the night to last with Miguel so you’d do anything it’ll take.

The strong scent coming from his crotch mixed with the faint smell of his sweat was dizzying and ignited a fire deep in your gut. That might be the pheromones doing that. You planted small kisses on the surface as his cock twitched with anticipation and desperate to be squeezed. The stifled groan you heard from his throat made your cunt throb a little and coaxed you to keep at it.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around the tip and took his length in his mouth. You tried to avoid scraping your teeth on the skin so you wouldn’t cause him any discomfort— given the fact that his girth was taking up a lot of space in your mouth, it was difficult. You still remember the first time you sucked him off on your wedding night and he specifically told you not to do that. His length rubbed against your upper palate while your tongue wrapped around its surface. It was taking up your whole mouth and you struggled to maintain a steady rhythm while giving it some friction. It wasn’t the most pleasurable experience having your mouth full to the point where he was almost touching your gullet, but watching his reaction made it all worth it. You kept your focus on his moans and the pleasurable sound of your name on his lips. His lascivious noises were for you and only you and encouraged you to keep your pace.

That’s it, that’s it. Let me hear you.

You noticed the muscles on his thighs clenching now. It was all familiar to you, the way his body would react when he was close to his peak. Before you knew it, you could taste the ropes of his warm jizz spilling from his cock. However, you forgot how much this man could come and you bit off more than you could chew, throwing you completely off guard. Your mouth was starting to fill up more as he released and his cum was beginning to leak down your chin— your eyes watered from the intensity and you had to pull away so you wouldn’t choke. His cock was now slick from a mix of your saliva and his remaining cum. You felt his thumb wiping your mouth before he lifted your head up to look at him.

“You okay?” His voice was still hazy and eyes still half-lidded.

“Yeah…just forgot how intense you can be.” You answered, still trying to stabilise yourself.

“Let me make you feel good then.” He gestured for you to lay down on the bed. You complied and you watched how his hands reached for your panties. His thick fingers hooked on the loop before pulling them off completely. The feeling of the open air hitting your drenched cunt, that was trapped in your panties for so long, made you shiver. His index finger rubbed against the folds first. You could hear the slick sound of yourself as he kept rubbing you. Without warning he inserted his finger in your gaping hole leaving you squirming under him. His fingers were big, so big, and though you have felt them before, your body was still not prepared for the sensation.

You gulped when his finger was fully inserted with the heel of his palm pressed against the sensitive bud. He pulled out and started pumping his digit while curling them inside you. Your breathing became more shallow as he continued finger-fucking you. Part of you wondered how it would feel if he used his talons inside you. But you didn’t want to risk anything. Things were getting so good. You tensed when you felt another one of his thick fingers being pushed inside you and you couldn’t control the whine that came out of your mouth and the way your body convulsed.

The knot inside your stomach snapped as your walls clenched hard before spilling everything. He pulled out his fingers and stuck them near your mouth, his eyes instructing you to open. You did and started sucking on his coated digit, the mix of his salty cum mixed with yours on your taste buds. You released his fingers and he plunged them back in your hole. Even with them being coated in your spit, it was still dizzying taking in his fingers, especially now that your cunt was swollen from your release— it felt a little sore this time around but the pain was easy to subside with his palm nudging on your clit.

“Come on cariño, I know you can come on my finger again.” You knew there was no point protesting. Once he had his mind fixed on doing something, he would do everything in his power to get it done. It was another thing you loved about this man. “Can those other men you had flings with make you come with just their fingers?” Ah, of course he remembered you saying that. You wondered what was going through his head when you told him. Was he jealous? Maybe he wanted to claim you again? “Tell me, cariño” You didn’t say anything to him directly but it didn’t take long for your body to spasm again and your cunt gushed with another orgasm. That was all he needed to satisfy his query. You were a panting mess by the time he pulled his fingers out of you again.

You still had enough strength to register and watch what he was doing next. He left wet kisses around your stomach and licked the exposed skin. He lowered himself around your crotch and sent trails of kisses around your inner thigh before getting to your swollen core, still dripping from your last release.

“Miguel…” you breathed, still trying to maintain your composure.

“You thought I was going to give you my cock after that?” His breath brushed against your eager cunt that was still clenching onto nothing. He was definitely doing that on purpose. “You scratched my back so I’ll scratch yours. That’s how it’s always been with us, remember? I saw how you were struggling so I thought I’d reward you for your work.” Sweet fuck, you loved this man. You chewed on your lower lip to suppress your pathetic moan. The look he was giving you between your legs only made your cunt pulsate more and your walls desperate for some friction.

All those other men you had flings with were never too focused on getting you to come. They only used the sex as a stress reliever and just wanted to reach their own climax so they could fill you up. But you never complained though, in truth, you just wanted to feel another man’s touch. Since there were no strings attached and you weren’t committing to any of them, you felt like they didn’t owe you anything like that. You thought to yourself that things will be easier for your heart to handle this way since you weren’t expected to get hurt. Your mind was so fogged with that idea, you forgot what it felt like having someone care for your needs too.

He started off with licking your folds in aching slow motion, getting you riled up. Your hands immediately reached for his hair and laced your fingers through the locks, letting out a shaking breath of approval when you felt him sucking on your sensitive bud. His mouth was giving you a better sensation on your clit than his palm, that only just barely brushed against it. He pulled away momentarily and you could see your mess glistening around his lips.

Then you saw it, his fangs emerging making your heart quicken in your chest before he dived in again, fully connecting his mouth onto your core. The sudden contact made your legs enclose around him in reflex. He lapped his tongue over the folds all while gently scraping his fangs over the sensitive areas. He was careful with his movements not to dig his canines too deep to cause any pain. It was a new feeling you’ve never felt before and you knew you’d never experience it with anyone else. Every juice leaked from your core was eagerly licked by him.

You attempted to grind your sex against his face to get some sort of friction from his tongue but his strong grip on your hips planted you on the mattress. That still didn’t stop you from squirming under him though. Your mind started to cloud with bliss and all you could focus on was his tongue movement and the feeling of his fangs grazing on your skin. He watched your reaction between your thighs as your mouth hung open. You couldn’t see his full face but through the looks of his eyes, you could tell he was giving you a smug expression as he ate up your reaction to his touches like a famished man.

You could feel your senses firing again as the heat was building up in your core. His tongue started lapping faster and flickering deeper into your cunt and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched against the bed and with a desperate cry, you finally unraveled again, everything that squirted from your pussy was quickly licked off from his tongue. As he pulled away, there was a line of saliva that connected your folds with his lips that he wiped away with the back of his hand. He lapped over his fangs too that were also coated from your fresh release. He leaned into your face again and kissed you lightly. You tasted and smelled the bittersweet of yourself from his mouth as he went to suck on your lower lip.

Next thing you knew, you were gently pushing and flipped over on the bed, ass up. He had better access to your hair now and it’ll be easier to take him in this position. He held onto your back, guiding his cock through your rear. He braced himself before he made his entrance slowly. You could still taste him and yourself on the base of your tongue and you knew his cock was still coated in your saliva making it easier to squeeze between your folds. Your walls caressed every inch of him as he pushed further and further into you.

You could hear and feel the suction from yourself that gripped around his length as he pulled back only to shove himself back in again. As he did, you could feel your clit rubbing against the sheets beneath you with each force from his thrusts. The bed screeched in protest as he rolled his hips into you, forcing it to move up and down. His rhythm became more sporadic like all that pent up energy was poured into one night while your head was buried into the pillow, muffling the noise building up in your throat. You were truly helpless under him, his frame was completely enclosing over you so you were rooted on the bed being shoved into the mattress over and over again from his thrusts. Blood could be heard rushing in your ear and every pulse in your system was throbbing.

Miguel, what have you done to me? What the fuck have you done to me?!

Each thrust was more intense than the last, forcing you deeper into the sheets. You couldn’t control the noises that were coming out of your mouth now as he was desperately trying to chase the high he could only get from you and the way you were squeezing him in all the right places. You felt his fingers combing through your hair again before he tugged gently, but firmly enough to force you head up from the pillow to look at him. The red hue on his eyes were glowing against the low lighting in your bedroom as he continued to plunge himself into you.

“Talk to me…who fucks you good?” He spoke over your shoulder and over the sound of the bed creaking, his breath fanning over your ear. You caught a glimpse of his fangs as he grinned at you and you allowed yourself to be drowned by the richness of his voice. He must’ve recognised that you couldn’t form anything coherent from your mouth so he slowed down his pace to give you a chance to talk.

“You…” Was all you could muster before you slipped out another moan from your lips. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, let alone form a cognitive thought in your head.

“Say my name, querida.” He commanded, giving one strong thrust that caught you by surprise.

“You, Miguel. It’s you-!” You gasped, the sound of your own voice was sounding foreign to you. No one had ever managed that out of you. He released your hair and your head dropped back on the pillow, no longer having the strength to hold yourself up. Out of all the times you’ve been fucked on your bed, this was by far the loudest you’ve been. The walls weren’t thin but you knew you’d still be getting noise complaints by the neighbours not just from your moans but with the repeated sounds of the headboard knocking against the wall. But that wasn’t in your mind right now. Every thought was slowly melting away from your brain, even your consciousness of your surroundings as he kept fucking you. It was like every other room in the building and everyone else in the apartment didn’t exist anymore— just you and him. You couldn’t see him but the sweat building up on his skin was giving off a subtle distinguishable smell and was causing his body to stick to yours as he kept on going.

He’s close, he’s close, he’s close.

Through your teary vision, you noticed him gripping onto your headboard as leverage before going deeper inside you. There it was, you could feel his release reaching every crevice and surface area inside as his body trembled from his strong climax. The rush of his hot release made you cry out his name before he took his time to pull out. Even with him releasing his cum deep inside you, there was still some leaking out through your folds.

You felt Miguel’s torso and your back sticking together with your sweat as he took his time to lift himself off of you. Lifting your head up from the pillow, you turned to see him leaving the room, his footsteps echoed in your, now, quiet apartment. You took this time to shift and turn your body around, the sheets were slightly damp under you. Your legs were still shaking from his rough thrusts and climax. Your senses were slowly coming back to you and the pulse in your ear was slowing down. The sound of the faucet could be heard from your kitchen as Miguel filled up a glass before his footsteps could be heard again as he approached you with a glass of water.

“Thought you might need this…” He handed you the glass. With shaking hands, you took the cold glass.

“Thank you.” You downed the water in one go, feeling the coolness down your throat before placing the empty glass on the nightstand.

“Do you want to get cleaned up?” Miguel asked. Your legs were still sticky from his cum and your sweat but you weren’t worried about that.

“In a bit, let me just hold you for a second, please.” Miguel climbed into bed and lied beside you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His warmth enveloped you and you through us swirled in a mixture of emotions. The passion you've just shared with him is still palpable with the smell of sweat and fresh sex woven in the air. Your finger fiddled with Miguel’s collar bone before you cradled his jaw. Your heart was still going haywire even as the intimacy was starting to settle down between the two of you. Your gaze shifted to his own and your mind started to wander. You thought about the future and even started a family you’ve longed for with Miguel but didn’t dare to dream about until now.

“Miguel…do you ever think about having children?” You whispered, too afraid to break the peaceful silence.

“I do…is that what you want mi amor?” He murmured. Mi amor? You gulped.

“Yes but…with your Spider DNA, what if our children inherit them too. I want them to live a normal life but what if they face the same dangers you do? What if I won’t be able to handle it?” You confessed. Miguel caressed your cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear before he spoke.

“I understand your worries, but we can’t let fear hold us back. I promise to protect you and them and I’ll try to be the best father and possibly the best husband too.” He reassured you. Amidst the doubts and uncertainty, there was still an undeniable warmth. The idea of raising a family with him felt like a second chance at happiness. You’ve both faced so much and you’ve overcome them. Perhaps you could both navigate the challenges of parenthood too. One step at a time.

“Thank you, Miguel. I think we should get in the shower to clean up now, don’t you?”

He smiled.

“You’re right. But first, don’t forget to take the pill…”

Part 4 🔞🔞

[holdinbacksecrets]

your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way

thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things

seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time

tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars

seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing

jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”

joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind

jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”

soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier

wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams

jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well

seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep

mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions

minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?

hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”

seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one

chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”

[holdmytesseract]

hello!! i saw you were looking for steamy stuff with daryl and was thinking about leaving him some steamy pictures with a polaroid, maybe they slip it to him at the worst time and he gets flustered and embarrasses himself or stick with steamy and he decides he wants to take his own pictures of them 😏

anyway, i hope you have a lovely day/evening 🥰

Sinful Distraction

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You decide to leave a little surprise for Daryl. A little sinful distraction while he's away.

Warnings: umm... mentions of naughty photos? tiny bit spicy, fluff?

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: Thanks for the request, nonny! 😁 I loved it, hehe. Hopefully you like what I wrote! 🧡

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

A cheeky smile danced across your lips as you put the Polaroid you coincidentally found on the last run back in its hiding place, before you sat down on the bed and admired the pictures you just took. You bit your lip. They were perfect - and hopefully able to distract Daryl just a tiny bit.

Your man was going out for a few days, probably a week, helping Rick out, of course, to build the bridge, and you decided to not let him leave without a little... surprise. A gift, rather. He just had to find it. You'd hide the pictures in the back pocket of his baggy jeans, hoping that he'd need the red rug he always carried with him in that pocket. A perfect plan, wasn't it? You bit your lip, smirking; proud that you had this idea.

"Y/N?" Daryl's voice echoed down the stairs towards the basement you and Daryl called home. Hastily, you hid the pictures in your pocket, thinking he was coming downstairs. "I'm here! Yeah?!" He wasn't. "We are goin' in a bit! Thought ya might wanna come up and say goodbye?!" "You can bet your butt on this! I'm coming, baby!" You heard Daryl snort out a laugh. "Thought ya need my butt?! Ain't got nothin' to hold on when it's gone!" You couldn't prevent a rather loud giggle leaving your lips. You loved when Daryl once in a while got all humorous and sassy. He had such a dry sense of humour - and you loved it. "Well... Point for you, hon!" "I'll be outside!" You could hear the amusement in his voice. He was definitely smiling. You took a last look at the pictures, before you hid them again and quickly made your way up the stairs and out of the house. Daryl sat on the stairs on the porch, clearly waiting for you. As soon as he heard the door close shut, the archer stood up and turned around, facing you. "Ready?" He asked. You knew exactly what he meant. He asked it every time, just like you gave him the same answer - every time. "I'll never be ready to be separated from you." Daryl bit the inside of his lip - a habit you loved so much. "I know. 'M sorry. I hate leavin' ya, 's just..." "You have to, I know." You nodded, smiling and stepped with him down the stairs. When you and him hit solid ground again, you immediately reached for him; took his big hands into yours. "It's okay. It's who you are and what you do. I-I mean, I would've accompanied you, but Michonne needs me here a-and..." Now Daryl was the one who nodded, giving you a soft smile. "She does," he said. "Alexandria does." You smiled at him as well, touched by the utter sweetness of this man.

Daryl squeezed your intertwined hand and looked from side to side, checking his surroundings and making sure nobody was looking, before he dipped his head in order to give you a sweet kiss. Showing affection in public was still something he had to get used to, but you didn't complain, gave him all the time he needed. You leaned in the kiss, of course, trying to make it last as long as possible; even letting go of his hands, in order to wrap them around his neck. You were successful, keeping the archer's lips locked onto yours for a little while longer, before he withdrew, blushing ever so softly. He is so cute, you thought, suppressing an upcoming giggle. Then you suddenly remembered the pictures, which were still in the pocket of your jeans. That had to change, of course. So, you scanned the street again, pulling Daryl in another kiss and catching him quite a bit by surprise. Now that he was distracted by your lips on his, you reached for the pictures in your pocket, wrapping your arms around your man's broad torso, lowered your palms on his ass and finally managed to slip the cargo in his back pocket.

Daryl jumped at your sudden bold, intimate move and ended the kiss, looking at you with slightly widened eyes and an even darker shape of red on his cheeks. "What ya doin', woman?!" You giggled, remembering the conversation you had earlier with him. "Makin' sure it's still there. Testin' if I can still hold onto it, ya know." You said and winked, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

After saying once again thoroughly goodbye to Daryl and the others who accompanied him, you retreated back to the little basement apartment you shared with the archer; hoping that your mischievous, cheeky plan was going to be successful.

After travelling to the bridge, alongside Aaron, Rick and Carol, Daryl went immediately to work. After all, the bridge didn't build itself. The archer didn't quite like to work with the Saviors. Former enemies, now turned allies, but he didn't have a choice, did he? They needed every help they could get. It was a big task and couldn't be done just by Alexandrians. Working in the heat of the summer wasn't exactly great as well, but that was also a thing which couldn't be changed.

It took Daryl almost two days to find the surprise you had hid for him but eventually, he found it...

"Daryl?" The archer lifted his head, looking up to face Aaron, who stood a few meters away from him. "Yeah?" "Have you got a rug or something with you?" Daryl nodded, sat back on his heels and reached for the familiar red rug in the back pocket of his jeans - only to find something what definitely didn't feel like his rug. His rug was there, too, but also something else. He frowned, but took the rug first, throwing it towards Aaron. "Thanks!" Daryl gave his friend a nod, before standing up and reaching for the other items in his pocket - which he had identified as Polaroid pictures, but the man didn't have a single clue what were on them, of course. When his gaze landed on the three pictures, his heart almost stopped beating for a second, eyes widening. He expected a lot - but not seeing you on them half naked, or well... very scarcely dressed. Goddamnit, woman, he thought, feeling his cheeks literally burn with how hard he was blushing. If he'd have found them in his tent, back at the camp, it wouldn't have been a problem, but out here? In 'public'? With all the men around him? No, he couldn't help himself but go as red as a beetroot. Nevertheless, he also couldn't help himself, but to skip through the pictures. The temptation was just too big. Just because he was slightly embarrassed, didn't mean that he didn't like what he saw... Quite the opposite. Daryl rather had to fight against the upcoming issue in his pants... On the backside of the last picture was something written on it, like he noticed. 'Thought you might need a bit distraction some time... ;)' Naughty girl, the archer thought, shaking his head. "Jus' ya wait 'til I get home..." He muttered under his breath. Revenge was sweet, after all, wasn't it?

[dadfemme]

Someone to Lose - Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 | Interviews

a03 // wattpad

You and your team have compiled a reasonable list of interviewees by the time another body shows up. Narrowing down a legitimate pool of witnesses and potential suspects had been a tall task with a tight-lipped town like yours. Lips that got even tighter around two new faces. Knowing this you had Emily and Luke stay at the station and do other digging to better profile the suspect.

Regardless of their roles, however, the agents put their time in. There wasn’t a single person working on the case who didn’t average a 10-12 hour work day. Everyone pulled their weight. 

Despite your different roles you’d found that you and Emily crossed paths often. It started brief and unsubstantial. Quick brushes by with polite smiles when you were headed to different corners of the small station. No different than running by anyone else. Then one evening you’d caught her pooling over some old files and dropped her a cup of coffee on your way to your office.

At first she’d barely registered you enter, so focused on what she was reading. Her eyes eventually landed on the lidless paper cup, coffee still hot enough to release a bit of steam.

“Do I look like I need it that bad?” she laughed. 

“Finish up and get some rest, Prentiss,” you tossed over your shoulder on your way out by way of answer. You didn’t stay for her to test it to see if you made it right. You knew you had. You paid attention to that stuff with your guys, and she was no different. Certainly not.

Since that night Emily seemed to go out of her way to engage with you. She’d come and lean on your doorway to talk about the case, or whatever, really. You particularly enjoyed her big smile while she spoke with you, which contrasted nicely to her usual stoic appearance. You came to look forward to her popping in, but you tried your best not to look forward to it too much. That would be silly. So you looked forward to it a very normal and regular amount.

Anyway.

Back to the present: The new body and the interviews. Right.

By the time the station got the call, you’d had paperwork to finish so you sent the boys to go secure the scene and Alvez tagged along. You found you really liked Luke. He’s what you imagine your guys will be after a few years. The boys were earnest and incredibly hardworking, but they lacked the type of easy confidence that Luke had that came with age. A sense of comfort in his role, which just emanated from him.

With the men gone, you and Prentiss were on interviews. Although she was a newcomer, you figured a stranger in uniform along with a familiar face like yours made a perfect pair to interview. Nothing more unassuming than two women just asking a few questions. As you’d hoped, the two of you blew through potential witnesses and potential persons of interest together with ease. You were surprised at how well you complemented eachother. Transitions between each session were seamless, and her questions were either perfect segues for yours, or they were so clever even you hadn’t realized what she was getting at any more than the individual across the table had until she’d caught them in an inconsistency.

Eventually the guys returned, and with the last individual interviewed you all found yourselves at 6pm with a full day under your belts.

“Okay I’m calling it,” you announce. “Our days have been too long. We’ve put our time in so let’s get out of here.”

“You guys going to the bar tonight?” Joe asks

“Oh man I forgot it’s the third Wednesday of the month,” Danney answers, rubbing his eyes in a weak effort to get the tired out. Joe was less than deterred.

“Let’s go! Feds, you too. It’s great. The drinks are dirt cheap, the beer comes by the pitcher, and the music is entirely questionable.”

At Prentiss’ confused expression you speak up, “It’s open DJ night. Anyone over 21 can come and have a go at the music. It’s rarely great, but always fun.”

You watch one eyebrow quirk before an amused smile slowly spreads across her lips.

“Well, how can I say no?”

Some of the guys let out a little whoop and soon everyone’s packing up their bags and heading for the bar.

-

The night was exactly as promised. Various individuals either overly nervous or entirely too cocky got up to the small DJ booth in the bar (read: black folding table) and was given 30 minutes to play their sets.

Despite the rather clunky music the lot brought to the bar, the group was having a great time. You always love to spend time with your team, and having the agents with you made that no different.  You sat back and sipped your second beer from the communal pitcher while Garrett sang as off key as he could muster to a Cher house remix. Toward the song’s end your gaze drifts to Emily, and not for the first time that night.

Now you know yourself. You’re a very happy, very flirty drunk. So if you keep glancing toward her, well that’s only weird if she catches you while wearing what the boys call your “lovergirl eyes”.

You can’t help it. Her big smiles at the absolutely abysmal music. Her easy banter with Luke and the guys. It all feels like it happened so fast. Like getting acquainted to a new town and new people was so easy for her. You were impressed and in awe. Truthfully, the little crush you’ve developed was inevitable. You’d resigned to it that day on Ana’s property when she apologized, staring at you like you were something worth looking at.

You watch her stand and head toward the bar, and almost immediately the bartender sets two bottles in front of her. While she waits to run her card you approach, putting your elbows on the sticky bar next to hers, your shoulders touching.

“When I said it’s on my tab tonight, I meant it.”

She smirked at your words, not yet looking at you. Thin fingers move to pluck your glass from your hands to soon replace with one of the cold bottles she bought.

You don’t even think to fight your grin. “Attentive. Cheers.”

Your bottle clinks with hers as the two of you take a swig. Now she’s looking at you, her eyes studying, and there’s something else in them you can’t quite read.

“I didn’t know the FBI made them like you, darlin. Shame you have all that hidden by a suit.”

The two of you are broken from your bubble to find Becks Lammers. The man peaked in high school and deals with it with alcohol. He’s hit every woman with the misfortune of dating him. Tonight, he reeks of cigarettes, and is clearly having difficulty keeping his eyes focused as he tries to waltz off after his shitty come-on.

You watch her nostrils flare, and you stand, before she has a chance to swivel around.

“What did you just say?” Your growl is punctuated by a grab to his arm, bringing him back to face you. You nearly see red.

He scoffs, “Lighten up, Sheriff. I was just kidding, right little miss agent?” He goes to cup Emily’s shoulder in that patronizing way men love to do.

Your grip on his other arm tightens and he stops midair.

“Touch her and I’ll book your ass so fast for that tax evasion that you think you’ve been hiding it’ll make your head spin.” You step into his space, so close you can smell the alcohol.

“In fact, I’ll do one better, I’ll bring you to the station myself and I’ll make you regret ever stepping foot in this bar tonight, Lammers.” You stand there, solid and unwavering.

His eyes go saucer wide.

“I-I was stupid for saying it. It was nothing. I’ve had too much to drink. How about I just get goin’.” He turns on his heel and skitters out of the bar.  

*

Emily sits and observes the interaction, her dark brows raised. It was new to be on the other side of someone defending her against some scummy guy making a pass. On her team she’s used as the bait, cursed to grin and bear it for the sake of the case. Up until tonight she’d more or less resigned to it.

“Is he really evading his taxes?” she asks once the door slams behind the man.

“Unsure.” The sheriff snorts. “Just seems like the type.”

Before Emily can sit on the interaction further, she feels Jane grab her arm.

“Come here,” she says, as Emily feels herself pulled out of her thoughts and onto unsteady legs. She allows herself to get walked halfway across the scuffed floor before she has the thought to ask, “Wait what’s happening?”

"We’re going to dance.” The blonde says simply with that brightness Emily found herself so fond of as of late.

“It’s a slow song,” she continues. “Everyone’s already dancing, even Alvez.” The blonde tips her chin to her right, and sure enough there he was, posted up with a woman who could very well be his grandmother’s age. So wrapped up in the sight, Emily missed the sudden proximity.

“Come closer,” comes a softer tone. “We can’t be the only ones not on the floor.”

By this point, Emily’s hand had already been taken and wrapped around Hailey’s waist, and the realization makes her nearly go rigid. Not wanting to give off her nerves, she takes a deep breath and relaxes just in time for a strong arm to gently pull her closer. A lot closer. Her free hand clasped by the Sheriff’s, they begin to sway.

On one hand, Emily is grateful for the cheek resting against hers. It allows her own reddened cheeks to stay hidden from Jane’s eyes. On the other hand, the closeness has resulted in a warmth that began deep in her stomach, that crawled through her chest, and spread up to where the tips of her fingers joined the younger woman’s. This isn’t good. Emily Prentiss does not get distracted on cases. She focuses on her breathing still, allows her eyes to drift shut. It’s so unlike her to react to someone else this way. She can’t even think of the last time this has happened.

Jesus, Emily. You’re an adult. Get a hold of yourself.

*

Oblivious to the brunette’s turmoil, you find yourself comfortably wrapped in her arms until the song ends, marking the conclusion of open DJ night. She doesn’t seem to meet your eyes once you separate, so rather than dwell on that you instead focus your collective attention on ensuring everyone gets out of the bar and starts for home safely.

Neither of you register what that means until you turn to one another, alone, lit only by the nearly full moon shining over the gravel parking lot.

This time she catches your eyes, but she’s got that unreadable expression again, and before your alcohol addled brain can figure out exactly what it means the brunette suddenly steps closer into your space. Her breath is against your lips. One, two, three, puffs of air. The tension is unbearable and the second you watch those big brown eyes flit down to your mouth you’re helpless to do anything else but close what distance remains between the two of you.  

You hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine this, but even if you had it wouldn’t have been anywhere near to what it feels like now that it’s real. Tipsy or not, she’s real, and she’s kissing you.

Her lips are soft and she tastes faintly of the alcohol, but underneath it’s just her. You’re so busy running your fingers up and through thick hair that you faintly register hands settling on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to hers. Her tongue dips into your mouth, followed by a sigh, and a whimper against your lips that shoots straight to your core.

You’re helpless to the moan that escapes your throat, which seems to snap Emily out of whatever spell she was under. The agent steps back abruptly. Your gaze falls to her heaving chest before you move back up to her eyes.

“I don’t think I meant to do that,” Emily starts, eyes building up to panic.

And you laugh.

You laugh and nod, bringing your fingers up to your cheeks. 

“Oh god. Am I blushing?” you snort.

Emily’s brow is furrowed, but her shoulders relax slightly, her earlier expression replaced by a far more perplexed one.

When she stays quiet you continue, “The night got away from us, don’t sweat it. Go home and get some rest.” You squeeze her arm by way of goodbye and you both head for home.

It didn’t need to be a big deal. You’ve kissed women before. Prentiss is attractive. It’s nothing more than that. More accurately it can’t be more anything than that.

You’ll deal with this in the morning. You’re both professionals. You can pretend this never happened. For tonight, though, you’re going to drift off to sleep thinking of the softest sounds of pleasure that had escaped one Emily Prentiss.

[lowkeyren]

Hii I hope I'm not intruding, but I was overcome with the urge to rant after I read your alhaitham childhood sweetheart fic. Truly amazing piece of work. Genuinely, my jaw is hanging. I had to clutch my heart in fear it would grow legs and leap out of my chest. Was absolutely swooning.

Anyways. I just wanted to say how Fanfiction is one of the best things to ever exist in this world. It has the potential to ruin and destroy but also heal and fulfill. And I can't appreciate artists enough in this regard because they bring to life, life. If that makes sense. They color a black and white world. They fill the heart with so much imagination and instill so much hope. Love exists because of their creative liberty. And the way writers incorporate all these seemingly minor details to a character just builds them in a light we either yearn for or relate to. I'm rambling this off to you solely because of how much I love alhaitham and how much your fic truly brought me to life. It was insanely well written in my eyes. I loved alhaithams portrayal. I loved the idea.

You captured it so well that i could taste the sweetness of a sweet on my tongue. Oooh and that little moment with alhaitham, cyno, nari and kaveh left me grinning so hard. LIKE I LOVE THE DIALOGUE. nothing too wow or dramatic but it fits and flows o well together with the characters and the story. oh lord and when alhaitham meets us at the end. I'm in love with the way he loves us. [without waiting for an answer, you decide to indulge him, linking your pinky with his. as your thumbs briefly touch, you catch the look in his eyes —serious, yet with a softness that makes your heart skip. “a promise that i’ll be by your side as long as sugar tastes sweet,” he says, his voice low and sincere.] This needs to be framed and hung on my wall. AS LONG AS SUGAR TASTES SWEET? GET OUT OF HERE. adorable. Heart twisting, gut wrenching. I'm rolling on the dirt floor crying. And then u have him say ["so come back with me"]

I'm in a romantic mood. I'll go cry about this. Not getting over it ever. You're amazing. Thank you

YOU😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭UUUUE😭🥺💧🥺😭 ue 💧ee😭🥺💧ue 🥺e e e😭e💧🥺😭Uueuuue💧💧you😭🥺ee e🥺🥺😭eUEE 💧🥺💧EEE 💧💧😭U E 🥺😭EE H💧🥺😭E EUU💧🥺😭yo u🥺💧😭EUEH🥺😭💧💧ue e😭😭eeeeee💧💧💧uu🥺😭 euuuee😭🥺YOUUU🥺😭💧

HEYA NO URE NOT INTRUDING AT ALL!!!! u actually made my made my whole week. no joke :') TYSM FOR READING THE FIC IM SO GLAD PPL LIKED IT AHHHHHH

your ask legit left me speechless for like 3 days straight. to hear that my fic had that kind of impact on you, esp on alhaitham's characterization, is beyond rewarding. genuinely, thank you for taking the time to share your comments with me —it seriously means the world to me!!!! (GOD URE SO SWEET URE SO SWEET URE SO S— cavities.)

AND YOU LOVING THE DIALOGUE? THANK YOU, I STRUGGLED WITH THAT SO MUCH ARRUGHHH (cus i was like dang this is such a perfect chance to include a 4ggravate scene but i was so worried i wld mischaracterize them LMAO)

dw i lowkey giggled at alhaitham's last few lines too (so come back w me / as long as sugar tastes sweet) i tried out other lines, but i ended up sticking with these ones because it felt the most impactful to me SO IM THRILLED TO HEAR THAT OTHERS THINK SO TOO (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

you, you're amazing, dear reader. thank you for your kind words, you lovely wonderful sweet soul <3

[queenie-official]

Chapter Seven: ‘Something New’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

a/n: i’m back 🤭 this is a lot of fluff y’all so i hope you eat it up 💪💪 it’s bit long because i sort of combined chapter 7 and chapter 8 since it made more sense for it to be in this one compared to what i have planned out. anyways that’s all i’ve got say love you all 💋💋

seven days, that’s how long you had with Anakin before the responsibilities of the world would catch up with you two. seven days then your honeymoon would be over. thankfully even though the first day was a little bit of a rough start it was what you needed to begin truly getting to know each other. and that’s exactly what you’d been doing, over the last four days you’d learned a lot about him- like his favorite color was light blue. and he wasn’t the youngest but in fact had a little sister making him the middle child, which honestly explained a lot.

you were currently taking a stroll with him in the royal garden, conversing and listening to him explain his family dynamic a bit more thoroughly. Anakin had told you how he’d purposely mess with his older brother to keep him on his toes since in his words ‘he’d be to stuck up and a complete stick in the mud’ if he wasn’t there. which prompted you to then ask what would he be now since he was here.

“that’s what my little sister is for, she looks up to me. practically a mini me but smarter” you snort a laugh at that and he smiles brighter. he truly had a pretty smile. “you sound like you adore her” you say with a soft smile and he chuckles “i do but never tell her i said that.” you quirk a brow “why not?” you ask curiously. “because she’d never let me live it down” he states a bit dramatically but completely serious and you can’t help the smile that never leaves your face only growing with each interaction.

“so Obi-Wan can never escape you then” you voice the thought out loud and Anakin laughs, everything about him you’ve been finding incredibly charming. “oh yea he’s never going to have it easy- Ahsoka is like my apprentice of mischief. star pupil” he said with a mischievous smile leaning in towards you as he speaks making you blush slightly. “only pupil” you point out and he rolls his eyes “for now.” your brows knit together in confusion “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“time will tell” he says with a shrug, you scoff and think about pressing more but decide to drop it. you’re both quiet for a moment, silently enjoying one another’s company as you continue the walk in the garden. the warm sun and floral smell from all the flowers creating the perfect bubble. it was your idea, coming on this walk- in fact you insisted he’d join you so you could show him your favorite spot. he seemed reluctant at first but you quickly realized that was just him messing with you and not how he truly felt. you felt your mind wonder back to his sister “it sounds like she cares about you as much as you do her, so how come she wasn’t at the wedding?”

“my mother was afraid she’d cause a scene- which to be fair i wouldn’t put it past her, she can be a bit….snippy and she’s not afraid to speak her mind it was just not the right time or place for that.” you let his answer hang in the air for a bit, in all honesty she sounded like a good person. a free spirit for sure but still a good person “she sounds like she’d make a good leader” you offer as a response. “i suppose” he says with a wrinkled nose, clearly not agreeing with the thought. “i personally can’t see her as much more than a bratty teen.”

“i’m sure that’s how Obi-Wan feels about you” you counter and he can’t help but laugh “well then i guess i got a taste of my own medicine” you giggle at the thought and begin to lead Anakin across the bridge. you where close to the spot you wanted to show him now, just a bit more of a walk but Anakin had stopped. when you turned to see why his footsteps ceased you where met with him looking over the bridge out across the water admiring the view of the fish swimming up the stream and the way the sun reflected across it. you take a moment to admire him first before walking back over and standing beside him to look over the stream yourself.

“i wish i could meet her, i feel like id love her” it came out soft, almost like you hadn’t fully meant to say it out loud. you could feel his eyes on you now, and then a sudden warmth on your back. his hand was pressed against the small of it, you had to fight back the way your cheeks burned at the action. “if she warmed up to you i think she’d like you as well” he says and you finally force yourself to meet his gaze. “as of right now i’m guessing she’s not to keen on me” you ask with a tilt to your head and he bites back a smile. “very much so” not surprising you did technically take away her brother.

“she’s the main reason i agreed” you blink a few times trying to process what he meant. “huh?” he pulled his hand from you and you had to fight a frown at the loss of contact as you watched him lean an elbow on the bridge railing “well i wasn’t really given a choice- but the reason i was so compliant in the matter, and i know this is selfish. was for her not my kingdom.” you mimic his actions leaning onto the bridge railing yourself as you listened to him speak carefully.

“the kingdom of Tatooine is falling, already on its last leg. i knew if i went along and everything went well then we would get the support we need from Alderaan, which would mean my sister would not have to bare witness to what would happen if we hadn’t gotten the proposal and that was the only reason i was remotely okay with everything.” you felt your heart tug at the confession, that familiar feeling of guilt resurfacing. “you’re a good brother Anakin” he smiled at the sentiment. a small silence filled the air before he spoke again.

“could you tell Obi-Wan that, he seems insistent on the fact i’m nothing but a bad influence” clearly the conversation had gotten a bit to emotional for his liking judging by how quick he was to play it off. you smile at that and pull off from the railing “well i never said you weren’t a bad influence.” you retort as you begin to walk off the bridge and continue the original intention of this walk. “ouch, you wound me” he places his hand over his heart in mock offense “honestly me a bad influence? doesn’t even begin to sound true.” he was smiling as he said it unable to take himself seriously with that statement and you can’t help but laugh “you are full of yourself.” he shrugs “i think i have every right to be” he says smugly and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“so what does Tatooine need most?” you ask, promptly changing the question as you both round a corner, now in a much smaller section of the garden. the flowers where much more overgrown here the only clear pathway was leading to the center of some pillars. you turn to him with a smile, this was what you wanted to show him. it was your favorite place to hide when you where younger and upset. you’d stumbled across it on accident but it quickly became your favorite place.

he raised a brow but smiled regardless, taking the time to look around before following you up the path. the center of the pillars was clear just a bunch of grass. you plopped down on the ground opting to lay rather then sit after all your dress wasn’t exactly the sitting kind. he stood over you for a moment looking down and contemplating something, you weren’t sure what but you decided to just brush it off once he followed suit and laid down beside you. “what do you mean” he finally asks in response to your question. “i know our coronation isn’t for another few days but we could begin preparations now, and then once we are officially crowned we can take immediate action. so what in your opinion does Tatooine need most?” you explain, turning your head to the side to face him. tracing over his jaw with your eyes and trying to memorize each detail of his face from this angle as he thinks. it was strange how quickly you found yourself falling for him, but he made it easy and you honestly weren’t mad about it.

“the route of our problems is lack of funds. we have a high crime rate, not for lack of laws but lack of ways to in-force them.” he begins and you move your gaze back upwards, staring out at the passing clouds. “go on” this time he turned to look at you “the only jail we have is the palace dungeons, outside of that there’s nothing. and there chalk full already. we’ve thought of building more but all of the money rightfully goes towards feeding the people” he continues and you nod, turning back so you both where facing each other now. “so funds and military support would be most welcome?” you ask carefully wanting to make sure you got what he was implying.

“yes, of course food and supplies would also be a good help but with money they’d be able to buy their own” you hum a brief response before giving him an affirming nod “understood, then we have our priorities” he raises a brow, a small half smile appearing on his face “just like that?” you smile back “well we are to be king and queen, our word is law.” not entirely true, you both did have your own set of rules and regulations to follow. but overall you two where at the top, the people look to you not parliament. “i guess being a king isn’t as bad as i thought” he joked.

a comfortable silence fell once more, only this time you where staring at each other when it happened. you hadn’t realized just how close he’d laid next to you until now, his entire body pressed against your side. faces only inches apart, if you moved any closer you’d kiss. the thought made your stomach erupt with butterflies, it wouldn’t be your first kiss since technically that happened on your wedding day. however it was different then than now. now it was you wanting to kiss him and not a requirement, you felt uneasy. not use to this type of thing, you force yourself to break the eye contact looking back up to the sky before starting a conversation for a distraction.

“tell me more about Tatooine- the good parts what’s it like there?” you ask him and he laughs.“Tatooine has very few good things in my opinion- for starters we’re a desert kingdom, which means there’s sand for days.” he says annoyed and you turn your attention back to him with a raised brow “not a fan of sand?” you ask and bite back a laugh. “i hate it. it’s course and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.” you couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore especially with how serious he meant it, brows furrowed like he was cursing the sand in his mind. “well remind me to never take you to a beach” you say in between giggles, it was his turn to roll his eyes at you as you kept laughing. “there is one thing that i love about Tatooine- aside from my family” his sentence pulls you back and you force yourself to calm down. “what’s that?” he relaxes more once you ask and smiles as he speaks “the races.”

“races?” he nods and begins to explain “we have horse races, i was a rider- against my mother and fathers wishes but they never exactly stopped me either. it’s not like i took place in the gambling side of things, i just like the adrenaline of it.” you watched as he spoke with the enthusiasm of a small child. it was cute and his eyes sparkled “have you ever won?” you wonder out loud. “oh yea just about every time i’ve raced, ill miss it” he says rather solemnly and that made your heart ache.

“what if we introduced the races to Alderaan? it seems like a harmless enough tradition” you spoke before really thinking and he snapped straight up like you’d just told him the best news in the world before he quickly shut himself down not sure if you where being serious. “honestly?” he presses needing confirmation before he allowed himself to be to excited. “why not, it could be fun a way to unite our kingdoms- people from Tatooine can come here to compete and vice versa.”

he’d kissed you then. it was gentle but passionate, a smile on his face the whole time. it made your head spin, face burn but you liked that and when he pulled away you did your best to act unaffected not quite ready to express yourself.

The next two days with Anakin where just as sweet, you both where getting along great. opening up about any thought that came to mind. it was wonderful and then something changed.

you weren’t sure what caused it but he was acting different today. more shut off and distant, it hurt. this was the last day of your honeymoon and somehow you’d messed it up without even realizing. all day he’d been brushing you off and keeping as much physical distance as possible, your head was spinning trying to find where you’d gone wrong. each conversation you’ve had with him running on repeat looking for even the smallest inkling that you’d crossed a boundary of sorts but you kept coming up empty. you tried asking him what was wrong as well wanting to just rip off the bandaid but he simply said nothing was wrong.

talk about emotional whiplash, if nothing was wrong why was he acting this way. why would he not even let you get near him. you’d let him be alone for about an hour before you couldn’t take the pit of anxiety anymore and decided to face him once more. This time you weren’t going to stop asking him until you got an answer, so you made quick work to hunt him down. which was surprisingly easy compared to the last time he’d disappeared. you found him struggling to walk up the stairs, you where quick to rush up to him not even giving him a chance to process it was you who now stood beside him. “Anakin what happened?” you ask concerned reaching out to help him but he moves away from your touch. “i’m fine” he says curtly and you’re taken aback briefly but recover “are you confident in that fact because-“

“i said i’m fine!” he shouts and you go silent letting your arms fall to your side as you begin to pull back, feeling yourself mentally shutting down. you see a look of regret on his face when he finally looks at you, as well as a sheen of sweat on his forehead. actually now that you got a better look at him he was pale, sickly so. he took a deep bated breath before proceeding up the stairs.

“i mean it i’m fine.” you scoff at him before following behind, he was heading in the direction of his room and you where going to make sure he got there safely. “could you just leave me be” you roll your eyes and cross your arms “i’m not going anywhere Anakin so would you just let me help yo-” you watch as he began to fall backwards, in a panic you do your best to catch him only to realize just how heavy he was the second his weight hit your arms and you fall down with him.

he was out cold, you on the other hand where now stuck underneath him. at least you’d broken his fall.

you wring out a wet cloth before placing it on his head that rested in your lap. you had gotten the attention of your guards and made them carry him to his room as you got a hold of the royal physician. that was two hours ago, now he was resting much more peacefully after he’d been woken up to take some medicine to help fight a fever. The Flu was what the physician said it was, and he’d insisted you not be in the room with Anakin in fear you might get it as well. as if that would stop you, he was sick and you wanted- needed to make sure he was okay. if you got sick in the process then oh well.

you watch over him carefully, running your fingers through his damp sweaty curls. what irked you about all of this was that he said nothing, suffered in silence instead of asking for your help. you thought you guys where finally getting somewhere. finally trusting one another- liking one another, learning to love one another and then he does this. ignores you, pushes you away when he needs you most. you see his eyes twitch and your mind goes blank, waiting patiently to see if he’d finally fully wake up. at least enough to have a conscious conversation.

soon enough his eyes do flutter open, looking around himself briefly to process his surrondings before looking at you. “you said you where fine” was the first thing out of your mouth a frown gracing your features and he had the audacity to smirk. “i was” he huffed, and you had to fight the urge to flick his head. “i’d believe you if you hadn’t passed out right after you said it” he remained silent after that statement and so did you. upset with his actions and not wanting to make a scene while he was sick you figured it best to just quit speaking entirely.

“why are you doing this” you raise a brow and he sighs knowing what you where going to ask “caring for me i mean” you feel your nose scrunch up, what a stupid question in your opinion. “I am your wife, it is my job” he closed his eyes at that “i didn’t think that applied to us” he said simply. “what?” your brows knit together “the duties of a married couple” he adds. it triggered you a bit, why would he think you wouldn’t want to help him. “you’re sick, was i just supposed to stand to the side and watch you suffer?” he opens his eyes and shrugs. “the vows i said may have been empty when i made them but i still made them nonetheless and i for one keep my promises.”

“so you’re only doing this out of obligation?” he asks and you frown “no-” he shifts slightly so that his head is more propped up on your thigh, closing his eyes and letting out a soft groan like it physically pained him to move. “then why? because you like me?” he smiles as he asks- unbelievable he could not possibly have the energy to be teasing you right now. “i’m doing this as your wife and nothing more” you say but it’s clear you aren’t being entirely truthful with that statement and you can tell by the look he gives you he’s not buying it.

“i think you just don’t want to confess you like me” he chuckles but quickly regrets it, closing his eyes again in pain. “if i did i would tell you” you say and begin to run your fingers through his hair again and watch as he relaxes. “well make sure you shout it” he mumbles. “i’m sorry?” he opens his eyes again, scanning over your face before answering “when you tell me you like me, shout it so i can hear you and know you mean it.”

“you’re delusional” you huff but can’t hide your smile and he’s quick to mirror you. “that’s probably the fever” he says with a shrug before allowing himself to doze back off to sleep in your lap.

part 8

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06

AHHH OKAY HERES CHAPTER SEVEN LOVES💋💋 side note i could not resist the urge to include Anakin’s hatred for sand- it was too good of an opportunity 😭 not to mention idk about you guys but i am completely with him on that ☝️as someone with sensory issues sand is one of my worst nightmares💀 anyway i hope you huns enjoyed Xx<3

[george-weasleys-girl]

The Matchmaker Pt. 2

Part 1:

Warnings: a few curse words

~•~

Fun fact: I never intended this to be a multi-chapter fic, but when I went to save the first part, I accidentally posted it instead. Tumblr was being glitchy at the time, and I couldn't change it to a private post. So, I just did a quick proofread and hoped for the best.

Well, now, it appears I've gotten a little carried away, and there will be a Part 3. 😆

~•~

Fred chewed on his lip to keep from frowning. His plan was going far worse than he expected.

~•~

"George, you should probably talk to Y/N," Fred suggested, his smooth, steady voice hiding the anxiety threatening to boil over. "It's been three weeks. I'd really hate to see your friendship fall apart over some mysterious lover who may never reveal themselves."

"If she wants to talk to me, she knows where to find me."

"You've not exactly been very encouraging," Fred accused. "You won't even look at her, for Merlin's sake."

"Why should I bother? She's got her precious little secret admirer now. What does she need me for?" George stood and stalked out of their room, slamming the door behind him.

"Fuck." Fred flopped across his bed trying to figure out how his perfect plan failed and how he could fix it.

~•~

Y/N lay in the grass, watching the clouds roll by. She used to do this with George all the time. They could spend hours just lying there, pointing out shapes, and chatting about anything and everything.

All that was over now. With every letter she received, he slipped further and further away from her.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories. How did everything get so messed up? Over the last several days, she'd endlessly replayed everything that had happened, trying to figure it all out. In the very beginning, she'd hoped George was her secret admirer. But, he'd made it abundantly clear that he didn't write any of the letters.

However, that wasn't what bothered her the most. Not anymore, anyway. It was his anger. She just couldn't understand it. If he only ever saw her as a friend, why should it matter if she had a secret admirer or a boyfriend. It made no sense.

Unless...

No, that couldn't be possible. Certainly, George would've said something to her by now. Wouldn't he?

Or would he?

She'd been silently in love with him for ages, waiting for him to make the first move. But what if he'd been waiting for her to do the same?

Y/N jumped up and sprinted inside, heading straight for Gryffindor Tower.

Not surprisingly, no one answered when she knocked on the twins' door. It was a beautiful day. They were probably outside stirring up mischief somewhere. That's ok, she thought. They all lived in the same place, and the boys would be back eventually. So, she'd just grab a book to read and wait for them in the common room.

Unfortunately, her plan was derailed by the discovery of a new letter. With a sigh, she opened it up and began to read.

Oh. Shit.

Dropping the letter on her bed, Y/N raced back outside to find George. It was now or never. She had to know where she stood with him.

~•~

Fred whistled as he strolled across the school grounds. This was going to work. He could feel it in his bones. Y/N would receive one last letter inviting her to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow at noon where her secret admirer would reveal themselves.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen because her admirer didn't exist. Y/N would think she'd been stood up and be understandably upset. But no matter. Fred would make sure George was there as well so he could swoop in and sweep her off her feet, and this whole mess would be over. His plan was foolproof.

~•~

Y/N was certain her heart might beat right out of her chest. She'd checked all the usual spots. No George or Fred. Wracking her brain as to where they could be, she approached a circle of Hufflepuff girls to ask if they'd seen the elusive twins.

She was only a few feet away, when she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I can't believe George Weasley asked you out to Hogsmede tomorrow," one girl said.

"Like, on a date?" Another asked.

"I think so," said a third. "We didn't really discuss details. He just asked me if I wanted to go with him and I said yes."

Y/N couldn't make out who said what, but it didn't matter. In one fell swoop, her whole world had just titled. Taking a couple of stumbling steps backward, she fell back against the wall, her head spinning.

"Hey, Y/N? You ok?" Y/N felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Hermione with Harry and Ron standing behind her.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got a little dizzy." Y/N smiled, pushing herself away from the wall. "Think I'll go lie down for a bit."

"Want us to walk with you?" Harry asked.

Y/N shook her head. "I'll be fine, thanks though."

"I could go get George," Ron offered.

"No! I mean, no, really. I'm ok." Y/N gave them one last smile before turning and disappearing around the corner.

~•~

George hated himself for letting his jealousy and pride get the better of him. He might've been able to salvage their friendship, maybe even confess his feelings if he hadn't been such a stupid git. Now, it was too late. It was only a matter of time before Y/N's secret admirer made themselves known, and then she'd would be well and truly lost to him. Just the thought of it made it difficult for him to breathe, as if his lungs were closing up.

It was that painful desperation that pushed him to do what he did next. The moment he saw Misty Davies, the cute Hufflepuff girl who'd had a crush on him since their second year, walking toward him on the path, he strode up to her and asked her out before he could second guess himself. Maybe if he had someone, anyone to cling to, it would soften the blow that was barreling toward him.

For a brief moment, a burst of exhilaration shot through him when she gleefully agreed to go with him to Hogsmede. But, the high was gone as quickly as it came. Misty was very pretty and very sweet, but she was not Y/N. Whenever George thought about his future, it was Y/N who he'd always envisioned by his side. No one else even came close.

~•~

"So, Georgie," Fred began. "I was thinking that tomorrow, we could hit Zonko's and Honeydukes, and then instead of gorging ourselves on candy, we could have a proper lunch at The Three Broomsticks."

"Can't," George replied as he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. "I have a date."

"A what?" Fred nearly fell out of his chair. Why was he just now hearing about this?

"A date," George continued, his voice dry and flat. "You know, two people going out together with romantic intentions."

"With who?!"

"Misty Davies. That Hufflepuff girl who has a crush on me."

"M-Misty? Why in Godric's name would you be going out with her?"

"Why not?" George shrugged. "It's not like I have any other options."

It was like the floor had given way underneath Fred, and he was in free fall.

"I--I just remembered I gotta do something," Fred stuttered.

"Yeah, ok. Whatever." George said and rolled onto his side, turning away from his twin.

~•~

Ginny was sound asleep when she and her roommates were startled awake by a frantic knocking at their door.

Ginny glanced at the clock. It was almost one in the morning. Expecting the worst, she jumped out of bed and flung open the door to find a pale and out-of-breath Fred on the other side.

"What's wrong? Is it Harry?"

Fred shook his head. "I need your help, Ginny. I've fucked up. Like fucked up, fucked up."

@princess-paramour @milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

[singsweetmelodies]

Hello Katie 👋🏼👋🏼 :D

For the 50 romance prompts ask meme, I'll like to request for 44: soulmate AU: timers <3

but if possible... with a twist...? (you don't have to include a twist if it's too difficult to work it in!)

The twist being, for whatever reason, their countdown timers for each of them to the time they meet their soulmates doesn't match, so they think "we're not each other's soulmates. that's cool. (no it's not)" but it turns out that they're each other soulmates anyways. or they choose to be with each other in spite of not being each other's soulmates. idk. *nervous laughter*

hiiii charlotte 🥰 first off, i am SO sorry for the incredible delay with this answer!! i saw this prompt and i absolutely LOVED IT (and the twist!! 🙏 *chef's kiss*) but unfortunately i got struck with a horrible case of writer's block/work deadlines, and just couldn't get to it at all.

until yesterday: i decided to just open my inbox and see what came to me. no thinking, just following the vibe of a prompt and writing. and uh. this happened... not only did it get ridiculously long (oops?) but it also somehow became a mini "investigate montreal" fic?? so in that vein, i'm tagging @1016week and submitting a belated entry for Day 6 "Montreal"... ❤️

i love this one. hope you love it too!! 👀⌚

~

Charles' soulmate timer stops when he is seven years old, and he meets the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

He's been vibrating with excitement all weekend - not just because it's a karting cup, but because his soulmate timer has been ticking down to this day for months now. Well, not just months, not really. It's actually been his whole life, but Charles doesn't remember all of that. He only remembers the past few months, when the little numbers had been getting smaller and smaller, until there were only ten days left and Charles gasped when he realised that the day would fall on the same day as the Bridgestone Cup.

"Of course the girl I marry is going to like racing, too," he'd told Maman and Papa, confidingly. Not a lot about soulmates made much sense to him, but this did.

His Maman had tried to smile, and Charles had hugged her tight to let her know it was going to be okay. He would find his soulmate, and then everyone would be smiling, because that's what people do when you meet your soulmate.

(Later that night, when Charles had been too excited to sleep and he'd gone to the bathroom quickly, Charles had heard his parents having an argument in their room. The door was closed, so their voices were muffled, but Charles could still make out his Maman saying "I just don't think it's a good sign, to meet your soulmate so young!" But Papa had countered, "Many people do, and they have beautiful stories. You have to trust that our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow." And then there had been an icky noise, like kissing, and Charles had flushed the loo quickly and ran back to his room.)

Now, with the beautiful blue eyed boy standing in front of him, Charles thinks of Papa's words again. Our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow.

Charles thought it would be a girl who really liked karting, but this is even better. This is a boy who wins at karting, because he's holding a trophy in both hands and grinning like he couldn't be happier.

Of course Charles' perfect match would be someone who wins at karting. It's only right, because Charles also wins at karting.

Charles clears his throat. "Hi," he says shyly, and the blue-eyed boy jumps.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he says apologetically, and then he laughs. He has a nice laugh, Charles thinks - like he knows how to have fun. "You are a bit short," the blue-eyed boy adds, and hey.

"Hey," Charles protests. "I'm tall for my age. I'm seven."

"Well, I'm nine," the blue-eyed boy says, like that's the most impressive age in the world.

It is a bit impressive, but not very, because Lorenzo is much older than that. Still, it is a little scary - Charles is only seven. What if this blue-eyed boy doesn't like him because he's only seven? Older kids can be mean like that.

No, he is your perfect match, Charles reminds himself. This blue-eyed boy won't be mean to him, because that's not how perfect matches work.

Charles takes a deep breath, then he sticks out his hand. "I'm Charles," he says.

The blue-eyed boy takes his hand, and it feels... weird. A little bit like when you get shocked by static electricity.

Charles giggles, unable to stop himself, and the blue-eyed boy smiles, as though he likes that.

"Hello, Charles. I'm Pierre," he says, squeezing Charles' hand. His eyes widen a moment later. "Oh! You've met your soulmate?!"

Charles doesn't understand what he means. "Well, yeah," he says. "It's y-"

And then he notices it.

Pierre's soulmate timer, right there on his wrist, right above where Charles is gripping his hand - it's still ticking.

Now, Charles doesn't know a lot about soulmates yet, but he knows that that's not good. Not good at all.

"I, um," Charles stammers, and then he does the one thing Maman and Papa said you should never do to your soulmate. Charles lies.

"I met so many new people today. I don't remember who it was."

Pierre's face falls. "Oh," he says, and he sounds unbearably sad for Charles. "But..." He chews his lip, shaking his head with a deep frown.

Then, mid-shake, Pierre's expression changes to one of determination. "I will help you find them," he says, with the kind of confidence Charles can only dream of when he's not on the racetrack.

He tugs on Charles' hand - which he still hasn't let go of - and Charles is helpless to do anything but follow.

~

They don't find Charles' soulmate anywhere, of course, and then Charles has to go win his race - but Pierre makes him promise that they will find each other at the next French karting event, and Charles will tell him all about his soulmate.

Charles promises, even though the idea makes his stomach feel all funny. I shouldn't be lying to my soulmate, he thinks, guiltily.

But Pierre's soulmate timer didn't stop ticking, and... that's not how soulmates are supposed to work.

The moment he's in the car with his father after the race, heading back home, Charles asks him about it.

Papa is quiet for a long moment, then: "Are you sure there wasn't someone behind Pierre, Charles?" he asks, in his careful, kind way. "Someone who's timer stopped at the same time as yours?"

Charles thinks about it for a moment, but even the idea of that feels - wrong, somehow. Like going into a corner and knowing you braked too hard, and you're going to flip the kart.

He shakes his head decisively. "No," he says. "It's Pierre."

He hears rather than sees his father blow out a soft sigh. Charles catches his eye in the rearview mirror, feeling confused and a little shaky inside.

When Papa sighs like that, it's never good news - it's usually something about sponsorship, which is a word Charles is already coming to dread.

It doesn't make sense how this could be about sponsorship, though. It probably isn't.

Charles waits for his father to gather his thoughts, like he needs to do sometimes to make sure he says exactly what he means. (It's something Maman keeps telling him he should try doing as well, but he's not so good at that yet.)

"You know how even the greatest racing drivers make mistakes sometimes?" Papa asks.

Charles frowns, but he nods. "Yes?"

"Sometimes the universe is like that, too. Sometimes the universe makes a mistake, and stops the timers too soon," Papa explains.

Charles frowns. He hasn't heard about that before, but he guesses it makes sense. It's true what Papa said - not even Senna was a perfect driver who never made mistakes. It makes sense that the universe is the same.

"But this doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate, okay, Charles?" Papa says before Charles can spend too much time thinking about the whole thing. His voice is firmer than Charles was expecting, and he reaches up to tilt the rearview mirror to see Charles better.

"It doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate," he repeats, like he doesn't want Charles to ever doubt that. "It just means it's going to be a little harder to find them."

Charles frowns, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. Isn't the whole point of soulmate timers to make it easier to find your perfect match?

It's just his luck that his soulmate timer doesn't work properly.

"I understand," Charles says, though, because he can tell it's important to his father.

Papa nods, but he keeps watching Charles in the rearview mirror for the rest of the drive, like he sometimes does after a race where Charles crashed the kart badly and he needs to keep making sure that Charles is fine.

Of course Charles is fine. He doesn't think this is comparable to a bad race at all! It's a little annoying, yes, but it's not that bad. It's just a bit of extra work, isn't it?

Charles shrugs his shoulders, glancing quickly down at the stopped soulmate timer at his wrist.

Whatever. Racing is more important than soulmates, anyway.

~

Almost twenty years later, Charles still says that to himself almost every day, even if he doesn't believe it with nearly the same careless seven-year-old confidence anymore: racing is more important than soulmates.

It is, because it has to be.

The thing is this: his father's explanation to Charles' seven-year-old self had been true - if a little oversimplified, and painted with an overt layer of kindness.

The truth Charles knows now is that there are two reasons, two categories, for people whose timers stop when the other person's keeps running.

One is, like Papa had said all those years ago, a simple case of mistaken timing - cases where the universe or fate or whatever controls it all stopped one person's timer a little too soon, or the other's a little too late.

It's harder to find each other in those cases, but it's still quite possible.

And then there's the second category. The unrequiteds. People whose timers stopped at the right time - when they met the person who would be their perfect match - except that they are not that person's perfect match in return. It only goes one way.

It's rare, but it happens sometimes. No system is perfect, after all - not even a system of soulmates.

For years and years, Charles tried to convince himself that he fell into the first category. His soulmate timer simply stopped too early, by some cosmic accident - but it's okay, Charles insists to everyone who asks and to himself as well, because what it's done is given Charles more time to focus on his racing instead. He's not constantly glancing down at his wrist and wondering when his timer is going to stop ticking - he can just get on with the racing.

He'll find his soulmate eventually, but on his own terms. There's nothing bad about that, surely.

Charles believes that. Really he does.

Except.

Except, if it's true and Charles falls into the first category - the mistaken timing category - then it would mean Pierre isn't his soulmate.

Pierre, who kept the promise he'd made to a seven-year-old who wasn't even his soulmate (because, yes, he had found Charles at the very next French karting cup, and he'd asked to meet Charles' soulmate - and when Charles had to admit that he still hadn't found them, Pierre had hugged him and told him not to give up and that he would find his soulmate someday. Pierre had held Charles' hand and explained that his parents almost didn't find each other, but they did. So it might take Charles some time, but that was okay, because it had taken Pierre's parents some time too, but now they were happier than ever. He'd been so convincing, firm but kind and absolutely sure of himself, and he'd made Charles believe it. He also made Charles smile, genuinely and truly, when he promised he'd stick by Charles' side no matter what anyone else said or whispered about his stopped soulmate timer.)

Pierre, who kept that promise about sticking with Charles, too. Pierre who never stopped being kind, and loyal, and the best friend Charles could ask for, whether he was seven or thirteen or nineteen or twenty-six.

Honestly, how was Charles supposed to not fall hopelessly in love with him?

He tried to deny it. For years and years, Charles tried to deny it - I will find my soulmate someday and it will all make sense, he'd tried to convince himself - but the thing was, what made more sense than Pierre being his soulmate?

It was roundabout the time of Pierre's first win (when Charles was standing under the podium in Monza with an aching back but a heart soaring with joy for his best friend despite the disaster of his own race) that Charles resigned himself to the truth: Pierre is his soulmate.

He has to be. Isn't a soulmate meant to be your perfect match; the person who understands you better than anyone and makes you happier than any other person in the world?

There's nobody else who could make Charles as happy as Pierre does. Nobody, nobody. There's no point in even trying to deny it anymore.

Pierre is his soulmate. But he is not Pierre's.

And that's okay. It's okay.

It has to be.

~

It isn't okay, not really, but that's true of a lot of things in Charles' life, and he's learned how to deal with them. He can deal with this, too.

On the whole, Charles thinks he does a pretty good job of dealing with it. He gets to be Pierre's best friend, after all - isn't that just a different kind of soulmate? True, Charles might want more, but it isn't like he has nothing. He has Pierre, and he will have Pierre for the rest of their lives.

Not in the way he wants, but - at least he will have Pierre.

The one thing he tries never to think about is Pierre's actual soulmate. Because Pierre has one, he knows, and he will meet them at some point.

Charles doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to look at some soulmate of Pierre's, and smile at her, and not be hopelessly, heartbreakingly jealous.

(He will do it, though. He will learn to smile at Pierre's soulmate - for Pierre's sake. He'll do it for Pierre.)

But that's a bridge he will cross when they get there. He doesn't have to worry about it yet (or at least, that's what Charles keeps telling himself even as the months tick by, and he knows there aren't year figures left on Pierre's soulmate timer anymore. Just months now, and then... weeks.)

Charles isn't thinking about it. He's put it out of his mind completely - which is easy enough to do, thankfully, given everything that's been happening on-track this season.

That's probably why he accepts Pierre's invitation to dinner in Montreal without thinking twice about it. (Even if he had realised, though, Charles doesn't think he would have been able to say no, either. He would give Pierre everything, if he only asked.)

So they go to dinner in Montreal, and it's perfect, and wonderful, and laughter-filled, and all in all exactly what Charles needed to distract himself from the fact that he has yet another engine penalty, and the sinking feeling that the championship is beginning to slip out of his reach.

Pierre seems to realise it, because he's in even finer form than usual - teasing Charles and tickling his ribs playfully and making him laugh at every possible opportunity.

Even on the drive back to the hotel: they stop at a red light, and Pierre steals Charles' cap, and Charles is giggling and filming it while Pierre is giggling back, and he's pretty sure neither of them are thinking about it at all, until-

Until Pierre's face changes from laughter to something almost ashen. "Charles," he says, and for all the years Charles has known him, he's never once heard Pierre's voice like that. "My soulmate timer just stopped."

For a few seconds, the words don't even register in Charles' mind.

Then they do, and Charles can feel his heart drop. "What?" he breathes.

His hands shake, and he doesn't even register the fact that the light has gone green as he glances all around them, craning his neck to see if there's anyone behind the white Ferrari, or around to the side.

Just a few minutes ago, their car had been surrounded by fans on all sides, all jostling to try and get pictures of them. But now, somehow, they're all alone in the Montreal night.

(The irony of it all is not lost on him - is this how Pierre felt all those years ago, when he was trying to look for Charles' soulmate at a karting cup, but not finding anybody it could be?)

"Are you sure it stopped just now? And not earlier?" Charles asks, willing his voice not to shake.

"Yeah," Pierre whispers. He sounds... devastated.

"But," Charles says, and then he has to take a deep breath. "But there's no-one else here, Pierrot."

"I know," Pierre says, somehow even softer.

Charles' fingers clench reflexively around the steering wheel, and he's moving in blank autopilot as he puts the car into gear and starts driving forward again.

He doesn't even realise he's shaking his head until Pierre says softly, "Charles." There's something wounded about it.

Charles stops shaking his head and slams on the brakes instead, jerking the car into something he hopes is a parking space at the side of the road.

"I don't understand," he says, far more calmly than he feels. "You can't - I can't be your soulmate."

Okay, maybe he's not so calm after all. But he doesn't think... he doesn't think anyone would be calm, in this situation.

Pierre makes a sound that could almost be a laugh, except that it sounds too strangled. "Do you know," he says, "that I have spent half my life wondering if the soulmate system got something wrong in my case? Because if you're not my soulmate, then who is? Who could possibly..."

Pierre does laugh this time, shaking his head. "You know, I asked to go out with you tonight for a reason. I knew - I knew it would happen tonight, so I needed to..." He swallows. "I needed to see you, one last time. Before I wouldn't be allowed to love you anymore."

It jolts through Charles then, what Pierre is trying to say. "Pierre," he breathes, and now it's his turn to say his best friend's name in a way he doesn't think he's ever said it before.

But Pierre's not finished yet. "I thought I could have one last night with you," he says. "One last night, before I had to say goodbye to my feelings, and try to love someone else."

My feelings. Try to love someone else.

Charles Leclerc is a lot of things, but an idiot is not one of them. He knows what Pierre is saying. He's...

Pierre loves him too. All along, Pierre has loved him too.

Only, he never had the option of thinking we're soulmates, Charles realised, and his heart twists in his chest.

Because Charles, for all that he accepted his soulbond toward Pierre was unrequited - at least he'd had the option of them being soulmates. Yes, it was in a twisted way, but at least he'd had that.

Pierre didn't. And he still fell in love with Charles.

The thought hits him like a shell-shock, and it's enough that Charles can only sit there for a moment, staring blankly, as Pierre continues talking beside him.

"I meant for tonight to just be a quick dinner together, something fun but normal for us," Pierre is saying, wringing his hands. "But I lost track of time. I always lose time when I'm talking to you, Charlito, I could talk to you forever - but the point is, I forgot to tell you I need to go back. I forgot that I was meant to meet my fucking soulmate tonight, because I was spending time with you, and - "

He takes a deep breath, and then he laughs again, leaning forward to drop his head into his hands. "I felt it happen, you know? I knew exactly when my soulmate timer stopped, because I could feel it, and it's - it was when I put that fucking cap on my head, Charles."

The cap that he's still wearing. Charles' 16 Ferrari cap.

Charles' hands shake as he reaches out to touch it, just the brim. "Your soulmate timer stopped when you put my cap on," he says, because a part of him still can't believe that this is real, that he's not living in some kind of heartbreakingly wonderful dream.

Pierre straightens up so fast that Charles is left with his fingers dangling awkwardly in mid-air. "Yes," he says, suddenly looking wild, "but this doesn't have to change anything, Charlito, I promise. I will still help you find your soulmate, and I will - I'll learn how to live with an unrequited bond, it's -"

"No!" Charles interrupts, half-throwing himself across the car to catch hold of Pierre's hands. "No, no, no, no. No more unrequited bonds, Pierrot."

Pierre starts to shake his head, but then he stops in the middle of the movement. "What do you mean," he asks, very carefully, "no more?"

And suddenly, Charles feels giddy, of all things. "I mean, your timer didn't stop when mine did. So for years, I have thought that we can't be soulmates, or at least that you couldn't be my soulmate. But now your timer stopped when you put on my cap, so -"

"Stop, stop, stop," Pierre says, squeezing Charles' hands tightly. "What do you mean, my timer didn't stop when yours did?"

"Oh," Charles says, and then he winces, the weight of the only real lie he's ever told his best friend (the only real lie he's ever told his soulmate) settling onto his shoulders with uncomfortable heaviness. "Um. Well. Do you remember when we met, and you thought I already met my soulmate?"

"No," Pierre breathes, but it's not the kind of no that says "no I don't remember." This no is more like "no way."

"Yeah," Charles says, and he can't help but look down at his own wrist, where the soulmate timer has been stopped for years and years. "My timer stopped the moment I met you, Pierrot."

"You..."

Pierre doesn't look like he knows how to finish that sentence, but Charles understands him anyway. "How was I supposed to tell you? I was seven, Pierre, and your timer didn't stop. I thought it was a mistake for years."

"But?" Pierre asks, like he can tell there was a but.

Charles beams at him. "But, I realised that there was nobody else who could be my perfect match. So I thought you were my soulmate after all, but it was unrequited."

"Never," Pierre says with a fierceness Charles doesn't expect. "Charles, never. If I knew... if I thought I had even half a chance, I would have been with you anyway."

Charles tries to laugh, but it comes out all breathless. "No you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would," Pierre argues, and his voice is heartbreakingly sincere. "I don't care. I would have chosen you."

Charles hears a punched-out noise, and it takes him a moment to realise it came from him. The next moment, he's unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing awkwardly over to sit on Pierre's lap.

It's not quite comfortable, because for all its luxury, the white Ferrari does not have a lot of leg space - but Charles doesn't think either of them give a single fuck, in this moment.

"I love you," he tells Pierre, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I've always loved you, but I never would have stood between you and your soulmate."

"Funny," Pierre says, his hands coming up to grip Charles' hips, "because that's exactly what stopped me from kissing you senseless."

"Well," Charles says, and if he grinds down just a little on Pierre's lap, he'll swear to everyone who asks that it was accidental. "It doesn't have to stop us anymore."

"Never again," Pierre agrees, tightening his grip on Charles' hips. "Never."

"So kiss me senseless, please," Charles whispers, and then he adds "soulmate," and that's what does it. Pierre surges up and kisses him, wild and desperate and more than a little clumsy, but without question the best kiss Charles has ever had. His own cap digs into his forehead a little, but Charles can't even bring himself to care about that - they owe too much to this cap now, honestly.

Maybe the universe does know what it's doing after all, Charles thinks. Maybe the universe just wanted to write a good story for them. A story that goes like this:

Charles' soulmate timer stopped when he was seven years old, and he met the boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Almost twenty years later, Pierre's soulmate timer stopped in a white Ferrari in Montreal, and Charles finally got to kiss the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen, the man who is his best friend and his soulmate.

The odds of it working out this way have to be... a million to one, probably, or maybe even less.

But then again, what are the odds that two boys who met at a French karting cup and became friends with a shared dream would both make it to Formula 1?

Maybe the answer is just that Pierre and Charles have always liked beating the odds.

~

(50 Romance Prompts Ask Meme) <- not currently taking more prompts, sorry!

[zerobaseonefics]

cuddles and movie ㅡ park hanbin

park hanbin x reader

requested : you give the silent treatment to park hanbin, and he becomes clingy. dear anon, i hope it will turn out the way you wanted <3

warnings : none, just fluff!!

1359 words

the scent of sweat was finally going through park hanbin nostrils when he sat on the floor of the dance practice room. checking the hour, he realized he had spent more time than he was supposed to do here, torturing his dance mates for hours. you know how hardworking he is, and how he won't let his teammates go home until everything's finally perfect. and there was this show his dance crew would be giving next thursday, and as a leader, it was his mission to make sure they do well.

it's only when he realized that his crewmate, kamden, looked more sleepy than usual and was dancing with his eyes closed like some type of zombie, that hanbin decided to wrap it for today.

yes, he realized he did a lot today.

yes, he questionned himself about how yedam's little body still had energy.

he realized it was maybe too much, but there is something that hasn't crossed his mind yet : it was 8pm, and he promised you, his s/o, that he will be home at 5pm, so you guys could go on a date.

in fact, hanbin was so stressed about that show he absolutely forgot about the date. and it was not the first time. after the practice, because he kinda felt bad for his tired friends, he offered them to have food. they all said yes, even the sleepy kamden, who could just not pass on food.... he'd go, eat the dish that feels tastier because he didn't pay for it, and sleep on the table when he's done or something.

anyways, all of those events made hanbin go home around 10 o'clock. he took off his shoes, throwing them somewhere in the corridor. the most important thing for him right now was to shower. and so, he went straight to the bathroom.

it's only when he accidently let cold water hit his body that he got back to his senses. he picked up the pieces of the puzzle, one by one. how was it so dark outside and you didn't seem to be home ? i mean, he hasn't see you when he got there, when you're usually waiting for him in the living room... he thought you might have gotten to sleep, but it was way too early and you weren't the type to sleep at that time of the night. and then, it hit him. opening his mouth in disbelief, he realized he had missed you date. a-fucking-gain.

he hurried to finish his shower, asking himself repeatedly what the hell was wrong with him, and yeah i agree, what the hell is wrong with you park hanbin. how could you forget about your amazing s/o, like?? give it to me.

he got out of the bathroom after he was done and dressed, and went straight up to look for you in your shared apartment, calling your name with hesitation. you never replied once, and he found you in your room, reading some book. he felt even more bad when your eyes ended up on him and he felt how disappointed you were. your eyes went back to your book, ignoring him, as he went closer to the bed your were lying on.

"hey y/n...." no answer.

"you...you had a nice day?" still nothing.

"listen... i'm so sorry i forgot our date, again. i know it's no excuse but i was just so focused into practice that i haven't see the time pass and then i felt bad for my teammates and..."

he was discouraged in talking more, as you wouldn't answer. he saw the light when you decided to get up, closing your book. he opened his arms too greet you, but you just passed by him, going straight to the living room. he called your name one more time, to which you responded by showing him your palm, like someway of saying "talk to the hand". he asked himself if maybe you needed some more space...

you know, it's just that before you, the poor boy never felt the warmth of another person. like, yeah, that loser was focusing on dance and didn't realized he could fall in love or something with anyone. like, please get him out of that practice room. and so, he was not a bad boyfriend, far from this, but sometimes, shit happens, and he has no idea how to fix it.

and if hanbin couldn't fix his own problems, another hanbin would do it for him.

"oh that's very bad...", said sung hanbin on the other side of the phone after park hanbin told him everything.

"hyung, do you think they are going to break up with me ?", whined your boyfriend.

"nooo !! i mean, i don't think so. but it's only logical that they are that mad..."

"what should i do ?"

"make it up to them. they wanted some of your love and attention, nothing more, but you cancelled so many of your dates. last times, at least, you warned them that you couldn't make it, but this time you just said nothing about it. if they want your love and attention, give it to them now, show them you're really sorry and maybe they will open up about it more easily."

after, that call, park hanbin went straight to join you in the living room, sitting next to you on the couch. you didn't spare him a single look, and he was almost discouraged before he remembered what his friend told him. plus, he just missed you so much, he couldn't stand the silent treatment you were giving him.

slowly, he went to take your hand into his, holding it gently, looking at you to see if he got some reactions out of you. nothing. taking your hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it, as you looked away so he won't see how affected you were by the gesture.

"y/n, i missed you so much. could we talk about this ?"

even if he got no answer out of it, he knew it was starting to work when you got up. let's be real, you were kinda enjoying it, so you couldn't just give in that easily. keep going boss!! make him regret!! don't let him get into your mind!!

however, when you decided to get up to avoid him once again, he just pulled you onto his laps, making you seat on them. an arm sneaking around your waist looking at you with eyes full of hope. gently, he put one strand of you hair behind your ear.

"you look good today, it's a shame i couldn't take you anywhere or see you enough..."

"well, i wonder whose fault it is, right ?" you finally answered.

"all mine. i'm so sorry."

"it's not the first time you doing it, hanbin. i get all the stress you might feel because of your incoming show, and i get that you have responsabilities as a leader... but you could've at least call me. so i won't wait for you, or worry about the fact that you're not home at 10pm."

"i know love... i did wrong, but i promise next time i won't skip any of our dates. okay ? you're way more important than some dance competition. would you let me make it up to you ?"

bro BYE you are weak as hell for that boy. you knew you couldn't ignore him more, you felt bad for him and you just missed him so much. you still tried to put on your best act, to making him unsure about your answer.

"hm... how will you make it up to me ?"

"how about some cuddles and your favorite movie ?"

"okay i'm down."

yeah once again you're weak. and that's how you spent the 15 next minutes laying on the couch, hanbin on top of you, his head hidden in the crook of your neck as he whispered some sweet nothing, telling each other about your day, placing some kisses in between all of that.

"hanbin."

"hm ?"

"i think we forgot the movie part in the "cuddle and movie" thing."

"...oh yeah right."

[fanficsformyfaves]

So Sweet

Kirby Reed x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, Dom!Kirby, Sub!Reader, Fingering (R Receiving), Oral Sex (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Hickeys, FLUFF, Mentions of Murders and Police Investigation

PREFACE: Reader is Kirby's fiancé and an old friend of Sam's from when she worked with her at the bowling alley in Modesto. Once she found out about the Ghostface attacks in New York, she had to go and make sure Sam and Tara were okay

A/N: Texts are Colored and in Bold!

Flashbacks in Italics!

She is my newest hyper fixation, so, enjoy <3

"Sam?", I call out,

Making her turn towards me. Once I made sure it was actually her, my shoulders' finally drop in relief.

"Oh my god", I whisper to myself,

Before walking up and pulling her into a hug.

"I was so worried. We practically sped all the way here"

"You didn't need to come all this way", she says

"Are you kidding me? Once I heard about the case from my fiancé, I just packed a bag and hopped in her car", I reassured,

Pulling away, as she sighs.

"You're my friend, Sam. I had to make sure you were okay"

She smiles and looks down at her feet.

"Thank you"

"Don't mention it"

Just then, her eyebrows raise in confusion whilst looking back up at me.

"Wait...fiancé?"

That's when I realized I never got to tell her.

"I guess life's gotten away from me. Yeah, I'm getting married"

"No fucking way"

I couldn't help, but laugh at her surprised expression.

"To who?!"

"Well-"

"Baby!", a familiar voice calls out,

We both look behind us and there she was. Despite being together for years, she never failed to make my heart skip a beat.

Kirby and I met when I moved to Atlanta in pursuit of a better job than the one I had in Modesto. I was at the grocery store, checking out the ingredients I was gonna use for dinner, when the cashier swiped my card.

"Sorry, ma'am, but this card was declined", she let me know,

"Oh, um, could you try it again?"

"Of course"

She tries the card once more and sure enough, we ran into the same problem.

"It's still declined"

"I got it", a woman answered,

I turn around and it felt like I got the wind knocked out of me. There weren't enough words to describe just how beautiful she was. From the greens and blues in her eyes to the rosy pink lips and soft blonde hair...she was something straight out of a movie.

I eventually snap out of the lavender haze that was consuming me with each passing moment and go to stop her.

"Oh no, please, I couldn't-"

"I insist", she interrupts,

Swiping her own card. Not only was she breathtaking, but her heart was just as perfect. I smile to myself and take my now-bagged groceries. We made our way outside to the parking lot and she walks me to my car.

"I'm (Y/N), by the way", I introduce shyly,

"Kirby", she grinned,

"Is there anyway I could repay you?"

"Well...you could take my number, as a thank you"

I let out a laugh, before realizing she was being serious.

"Oh! Um, sure", I reply,

Getting my phone out. She takes it and starts putting in her number. Was this really happening? If this was all just a dream and I wake up right now, I'll be so pissed. Once we had each other’s contacts saved, I slid my phone back into my pocket.

"Maybe next time, you'll forget your wallet at a gas station and I can ask you out for dinner", she jokes,

Handing me back my phone.

Her sense of humor was only one of the many things that made me fall for her. We spent the next few months just flirting and getting to know each other. We would meet for dinners, coffee and even horror movie marathons at each other's houses.

One habit I picked up since I met her was looking forward to the sweet little morning texts she'd send me.

Kirby<3: Morning, beautiful. Hope you slept well

And every time, without fail, I would squeal into my pillow like a child.

Me: Good morning! I did, hope you did too. Are we still on for binging the Conjuring movies?

Kirby<3: Are you kidding?

Just then she sends me a photo of the snacks, drinks and an infinite amount of candy.

Kirby<3: I've got them all in chronological order! I'm just waiting for you to bring your fine ass over here

It didn't take long for us to become official.

It happened one night, after one of our little rendezvous. There we were. Laying in her bed, sweaty and out of breath. Our limbs tangled together, holding me tight against her bare skin.

"You are amazing", I exhale,

As I attempted to catch my breath.

"I know", she joked,

Pressing a kiss to the back of my shoulder and causing a soft chuckle to escape me.

"You know what I've been thinking about?", she questioned,

"Hm?"

"...How much I love you"

It was as if time came to a screeching halt, the moment those words left her lips. Afraid that this was all just a figment of my imagination, I hesitantly turn to face her.

"What?"

Maybe I was just hearing things. She laughs and gently caresses the apple of my cheek, like I was a piece of glass she was too scared to break.

"I love you, (Y/N)", she repeats,

Leaning in to kiss me once more. Little did I know that this night was the beginning of the rest of our lives together.

When Sam realized who it was walking towards us, her jaw drops in shock.

"Kirby?”

“Surprise!”, she greeted,

Putting an arm around the small of my waist, before I turn my head to meet her kiss.

“Wait, when did this happen?”, she questioned,

“About six months ago”, Kirby answered,

As I smiled at her.

“I’m so happy for you guys, really. It’s so good to see you again”

“It’s good to see you, too…I mean…better circumstances would’ve been nicer, but-”

Samantha tilts her head and shrugs in agreement.

"How are you and Tara holding up?", I asked,

"Holding up", she replied,

Looking back at her sister and friends.

"A friend of mine who works at the Plaza booked you guys a suite. You'll have extra security there", Kirby informs,

"Kirby-", Sam goes to argue

"Don't bother saying no", I interrupt,

Knowing Kirby wouldn't let Sam and the rest to fend for themselves out here.

"This is your safety, Samantha. You shouldn't risk it, especially with that psycho's targets on your backs", she explained,

Gesturing to her sister and friends, who were now approaching us.

"Kirby, this Mindy and Chad. Their friends of ours from Woodsboro", Sam introduced,

"Great, even more people to add to our suspect list", the young woman replied,

"I'm sorry?", I asked,

Scrunching my eyebrows in confusion.

"Well, this whole thing is obviously someone staging another stab movie, so...that makes you two the newest characters to look out for", she explained,

Before I could question any further, Kirby decided to reply instead.

"She's right"

"What?", I turn to my fiancé,

"That's a fair observation. Good to know we have another horror movie fan in our midst, could never have too many", she reassured,

I shake my head playfully. After making sure everyone was okay, the car we ordered to take them to the plaza shows up.

"That's your ride. Sam, you have our numbers"

She nods.

"Just let us know when you make it there safe. The Airbnb we're staying at is right across the street, if you need anything", I bid goodbye,

"Thank you", she smiles,

Before following her friends into the car.

~

Later that evening, we got back to the apartment after Kirby was done doing whatever else she needed to do at the at the police station.

"I am beat", she exhales,

Flopping onto the couch.

"You're telling me", I replied,

Joining her and laying against her chest, as she held me close to kiss the top of my head.

"I can't believe we're actually getting married"

"Yeah", I chuckle,

Kissing the forearms that were wrapped around me. We spend a few moments laying in the comforting silence, when she decided to speak once more.

"How tired are you?"

"A little tired", I turn to face her,

"What's up?"

That's when I notice the smirk on her face and immediately knew why she asked.

"Oh"

She giggles, before leaning in to kiss me. Despite how many we've shared, each kiss was only more exciting than the last. I flip onto my front and straddle the expanse of her thighs. Her hands making their way up my hips and settling around my waist to hold me where she wanted.

Her lips eventually trail past my cheeks and down to my neck. Marking my skin with one hickey after the other.

She slightly pulls away, while her fingers tug at the bottom of my shirt, almost as if to ask if she could take it off. The day I say no to that question was the day I'd officially lost my mind.

I nod and she pulls it off over my head, leaving me in just a black bralette.

“Good fucking god”, she praised,

Causing a delicious chill to run up my spine. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she reaches behind me and undoes my bra, before letting it fall down my arms. My top half was now left completely exposed to the draft in the apartment, which was made apparent by my buds immediately hardening at the cool air.

She pulls me in closer and wraps her lips around one, while the fingers on her free hand began to pinch and roll the other. There was no stopping the onslaught of whines and pleading moans that were escaping me.

I lean into her touch, as each hum she made against me caused vibrations to travel down to my core, only causing me to grow wetter and needier for what she had planned next. My hips began to grind against hers, granting me some kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between my legs.

"How long has it been?", she mumbled against my breast,

"Too long", I exhale,

Getting back on my feet, allowing her to unbutton my jeans and drag it down to my ankles. I hastily step out of them, before straddling her once more.

She then lays me down and her lips make their way down my chest and stomach, till she was finally where I needed her. Her fingers wrap around the waistband of my underwear and slides them off of me, prior to being thrown across the room.

She parts my legs and takes a moment to admire the mess she was making out of me.

"So fucking good", she whispered,

Before nipping at my inner thighs and making them tighten around her head, to which she throws them over her shoulders and pulls me in even closer. Finally having had enough with teasing me, she dives right in. Her tongue licking up all of the arousal, as I gasp at the contact.

"Mmm, my sweet girl", she hums,

Sucking at my clit. She knew just what to do to drive me up the wall and have me begging for more.

Kirby always went on and on about the way I tasted. She said that if she had it her way, my legs would be over her shoulders all day long.

I could be do anything, like washing the dishes and she would just turn me around, get on her knees, spread mine apart and just dive right in. Once she'd gotten her fix, she would just get back up, kiss me and move on like she didn't just have me screaming and shaking.

Her fingers start rubbing up and down my slit, only adding onto the pleasure that was already consuming me.

She finally slips her digits into me and they immediately press against my g-spot. A gasp fleeing out of me as a result. It didn't take long, before she picked up momentum and was ramming into me faster and harder.

"Fuck, yes!", I whined,

Grabbing onto her golden locks for dear life.

She didn't let up once.

"You taste so fucking good", she cooed,

Swallowing me whole like I was the last thing she would ever have again. The familiar knot in my stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

"Don't stop!", I cry out,

"Don't plan on it", she teased,

Before continuing her ministrations on me. Her fingers repeatedly hitting my sweet spot every time she plunged into me, as my walls clenched around them like a vice. I knew it was only a matter of time before I-

"You're close, aren't you? Be good for me, baby, let me fucking have it"

That was all I needed to hear. I came with a screaming moan and let myself go all over her welcoming mouth. Once she was done swallowing the mess I made, she licked me up clean, causing a whine to escape me from the overstimulation. I was always so sensitive and she knew that. So it came as no surprise to me, when she giggled at my reaction.

Finally coming up for air, Kirby then pressed her swollen lips against mine.

"Can you taste yourself?", she mumbled with a smirk,

I nod and she pulls away.

"Think you can handle one more?", she questioned,

"I brought your favorite toy", she added,

Rubbing circles onto my sides with her thumbs. How on earth could I say no to that? I nod, still trying to catch my breath from the orgasm that I just had.

"I need to hear you say it, baby", she says,

"Yes, please", I shyly answer,

She chuckles and leaves me with a kiss to the cheek, before hurrying off towards the bedroom. She then comes back with the strap and places it on the edge of the couch.

I got back on my feet and helped her out of her clothes, as we continued making out. I get her top, pants, bra and thong off and no matter how many times I've seen her naked, I was always left speechless at how beautiful she was. Every dip and curve making my mouth water from how badly I needed her.

"Just to let you know, a picture would last longer", she teased,

"Oh, shut up"

She laughs, stepping into the harness, as I helped secure her into it. I lay back down and she gets in between my legs, wrapping them around her waist. She grabs the base and drags the tip up and down my slit, causing my hips to buck up against hers.

"Someone's excited", she exhaled against my ear,

Dragging her tongue against the tender point behind it.

Finally having had enough with the torture, she pushes the toy into me in one swift thrust. A surprised gasp escaping me as a result.

She began pounding into my needy cunt with such need, it felt like the couch was squeaking against the floor.

"God, you're tight", she mumbled,

Struggling against the firm grip I had on the toy, whilst burying her face in my neck, littering my skin with hickeys and bite marks.

The climax I hit not too long ago still rendered me sensitive, so, I was already on the verge of having another orgasm, only this one was growing more intense than the last one due to me being overstimulated.

By this time, the room was filled with the smell of sex and sweat. The sounds of my pathetic cries and our skins slapping against each other echoing throughout the halls.

I wouldn't have been surprised if we got a noise complaint by tomorrow morning.

"Does that feel good, baby? Did you miss this as much as I did?", she groans,

Ramming even harder and faster into g-spot.

"Yes! I'm so fucking close!", I scream between my moans,

"Do it for me. Cum"

The knot in my stomach snaps and comes undone, as I cried out one final time.

My body immediately goes limp, allowing Kirby to gently pull out, causing me to whine at the sudden emptiness. She always made me feel so deliciously full.

Once she rids herself of the toy, she scooped me up into her arms and lays me on top of her bare chest, before grabbing the blanket to shield us against the apartment's cool draft.

"That was...wow", I exhale.

My mind still reeling from the euphoric state it was just consumed by. She chuckles and kisses the top of my head.

"God, I love you", she says,

"I love you too", I replied,

Looking back up at her in awe. She leans down and presses another one of her kisses to my eager lips.

"So sweet", she smiles.

Let's just say I spent the rest of the night returning the favor.

[simping4villains]

A/N: Hey y’all! Here’s another Phinks oneshot requested by one of my wattpad readers! My requests are always open, just keep in mind that it may take me awhile to get to them bc i’m working on sooo many fics rn. Anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

~~~~~

Warning: Sexual content

The mission was simple: break into the social club on the edge of town and steal the valuables that were said to be hidden in the safe. What the intel failed to mention was that the social club was a common hangout for the local mafia members. When the four of you broke in, you were completely swarmed. Of course, those grunts couldn't actually use nen, so it didn't pose much of a challenge, but a heads up still would have been nice.

   "What's wrong? Why are you holding back?" You asked Phinks as he snapped the neck of the last man in the most recent wave of enemies, dropping him into a heap on the ground.

   "Huh? Whachya mean, holding back?"

   "Oh sorry, I just thought you had to have some kind of intense power to be a part of the phantom troupe."

   You hadn't been with the troupe for long, so you hadn't gotten to see everyone's abilities, but you were very impressed with the few that you had seen. It made sense why they had the sort of reputation that they did.

   "The hell are you saying?"

   "Nothing, forget it. Let's just catch up with Shalnark and Feitan." The hallway ahead of you split into two paths. You weren't exactly sure which one led to the other spiders. "Uh, any idea where they went?"

   "I was a little busy when they ran off," he snapped.

   Why was he always so fucking defensive?

   "Alright, guess we'll have to split up to find them. You think you can handle yourself?"

   He rolled his eyes as he pushed past you. "Don't get too cocky, newbie."

   You both picked a hallway to follow. It became clear pretty quickly that you had chosen the right path. More blood and bodies covered the floor the further you went. Eventually, you found Feitan and Shalnark standing at the end of the hallway. Behind them was a large, metal door.

   "Oh, hey y/n!" Shalnark called when he saw you. "Perfect timing."

   "Where's Phinks?" Feitan asked impatiently.

   "He went down the other hallway to look for you guys."

   He gave an annoyed grunt as he pulled out his phone. "Will text him."

   "So, how's your first official mission going so far? You sure you still wanna be a troupe member?" Shalnark asked you.

   "It's not all that bad," you laughed. "I hadn't talked to Phinks much before this, though. What the hell is his problem?"

   "Good question," Feitan muttered as he read Phinks's immediate reply to his text.

   Shalnark laughed. "Aw, come on! Phinks is a great guy. He's just got a lot of. . ."

   "Anger issues?" Feitan offered.

   Shalnark shook his head. "No, that's not it."

   "Stupidity?"

   "Not that either."

   "Don't know what else it could be."

   Shalnark's eyes lit up. "Passion! Yeah, that's it."

   Feitan hummed, clearly thinking his answers were better.

   "We havin a party over here?" Phinks asked as he strolled up. "What the hell are you guys doing just standing around?"

   "Well, we were waiting for you to catch up," Shalnark explained.

   "Took you long enough," you teased.

   Phinks opened his mouth, likely to cuss you out for picking on him, but Shalnark cut him off.

   "So anyway, this door might give us a bit of trouble. I can try to hack the digital lock, unless you have any other ideas, Phinks?"

   Feitan snickered. "Really asking him?"

   Phinks reared on him. "Hey, listen here, you little runt, I'm as capable of coming up with solutions as anyone else!"

   "Whatever you say."

   "I don't need this," Phinks huffed before taking a few steps back. "Watch and learn."

   He activated his nen and charged at the door, preparing to throw his body into it. At the last second, it swung open, causing him to crash to the floor. You and Feitan couldn't help but laugh.

   "Whoops! Sorry, Phinks," Shalnark apologized. "I ended up being able to hack it after all."

   Phinks groaned, rolling onto his back. "It's fine, Shal. No harm done, right?"

   "Just to your ego," Feitan said. "Proved us right."

   "I dunno," you countered, "even I didn't think he could be that pathetic."

   He lifted his head to look at you. "You wanna quit talkin shit?"

   You shrugged. "I'm just being honest"

   He scoffed in response. "That's it." Phinks pushed himself off of the ground, dusting himself off. "Fei, Shal, you think you can handle the rest of this mission?"

   They both looked at each other, clearly confused. It was Shalnark who finally answered. "Uh, sure, yeah."

   With that, Phinks stormed over to you, picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder like it was nothing.

   "Hey!" You shrieked. "Put me down!"

   "Relax, will ya? You and I are just gonna go have a chat about this fucking attitude of yours."

   "I can walk just fine on my own, though! Shalnark, will you talk some sense into this brute?"

   Shalnark waved at you as you disappeared around the corner of the hallway. "See you guys later! Remember that spiders aren't allowed to kill each other!"

   You couldn't believe his response. The other two were really just letting Phinks carry you off to god-knows-where to bitch you out. Fucking traitors.

   Phinks found an empty room—some sort of storage room judging by the piles of boxes and shelves of junk—that he decided was private enough for him to say whatever was on his mind. He locked the door behind him so that no stray mafia members would interrupt and finally set you back on your feet. As soon as he did, you punched him in the shoulder.

   "Ow! What the hell is that for?!"

   "For treating me like a god damn rag doll!"

   You went to swing again, but he caught your fist and pinned you against the wall.

   "Will you calm the fuck down?"

   "No, you're acting like a dickhead."

   "Me? You're the one firing off all the snarky comments. Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners?"

   "Oh, you're right. I forgot i'm supposed to respect my elders," you spat. "Sorry, geezer."

   He gave a wry laugh. "You know, with the way you're acting, it seems like you might be trying to hide something."

   "Oh yeah? Like what?"

   He moved one of his hands from where it kept you pinned, tilting your head so that your eyes met. "I think you've got a little crush."

   It was your turn to laugh. "You can't be serious."

   A crush? Absolutely not. Sure, when you'd first seen Phinks you couldn't help but admire him—I mean, come on, his body was stupidly gorgeous—but your interest was quickly crushed by his personality. You hated men who thought they were god's gift to humanity.

   "Don't think I haven't noticed you staring at me back at the base." He smirked. "You want me, don't you? That's why you're being such a brat—it's just to get my attention."

   You scoffed. "God, you're so fucking cocky."

   "Be honest," he leaned closer so his lips nearly brushed your ear. "Does it make you want me even more?"

   His warm breath made you shiver. It didn't go unnoticed by Phinks, who started to chuckle before you pushed him away.

   "Knock it off!"

   "Why?" He asked. "Because you know i'm right?"

   "You're not," you insisted, trying to keep your pride in-tact.

   "Oh, come on, I felt the way you reacted when I was close to you." His finger traced your ear to emphasize his point.

   You smacked his hand away. "I'm not sure what you mean."

   "Right." He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, following the action with his eyes. "So you're telling me that if I tried to kiss you right now, you'd stop me?"

   "Why don't you find out?"

   He frowned. "Are you just looking for an excuse to hit me?"

   "I don't need an excuse."

   "Guess I might as well take my chances, then."

   He wrapped his fingers in your hair and pulled you to him so that your lips met.

   You didn't punch him. Hell, you didn't even try to push him away. Your eyes just fluttered shut as the world melted around you. What the hell was wrong with you?

   You opened your eyes again when the two of you broke apart. You'd be lying if you said that you were surprised by the smug look on his face.

   "Guess I was right."

   "No, you absolutely were not!" You denied, though your voice sounded incredibly shrill and unconvincing as it left your throat.

   He crossed his arms over his chest. "Then why'd you let me kiss you?"

   "Spiders don't fight."

   It was a pathetic excuse.

   "You would've been well within your rights to slap me if you wanted. I wouldn't have held it against you."

   "I didn't know."

   "Would it really have changed the way you reacted?"

   "It might've, yeah."

   Even you didn't believe it as you said it. Really, you knew that Phinks fully expected you to slap him when he'd kissed you. Things certainly would've been a whole lot easier if you had. Now you were left questioning yourself.

   His hand found its way back into your hair. "Well, here, i'll do it again so you have the chance."

   "No, don't do that!"

   "Why not? Because you're lying? Because you know you secretly want me to?"

   Your face was starting to feel impossibly hot. "That's not it at all!"

   "Oh, really? Then what is it? You're afraid of hurting me?"

   "I. . ."

   He laughed. He knew he'd won. "You had so much to say earlier. Where'd all that sass go?"

   You pursed your lips, glaring daggers at him. "Shut up."

   "You're cute when you act tough."

   "I'll kick your ass, you know."

   He brushed his thumb over your cheek, flashing you that gorgeous, crooked smile that you could barely stomach. "Oh, I'm sure you will."

   "Don't patronize me. I fucking mean it."

   "Mhmm."

   You frowned, feeling your annoyance battling it out with the sexual tension. You weren't sure which would win.

   Ultimately, it was Phinks who threw in te towel. He untangled his fingers from your hair and stepped away from you, moving to leave the room.

   You felt breathless without his touch, without having him so close to you.

   "Where the hell are you going?" You called after him.

   He turned back to you. "I figured we were done talking. I mean, you told me that my theory was wrong, so what more is there left to say?"

   He turned again to leave. You rushed forward, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around. You'd been so ready to tell him off, to give him a piece of your mind, but as soon as your eyes met you froze.

   "What's this all about, huh?" he asked.

   "We don't. . . we don't have to say anything."

   "The hell do you mean by that?"

   You threw your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He was caught off guard for a second, but then you felt him smile against you. He had won. He was right. Whatever.

   "So you do want me?" he teased, biting your bottom lip.

   You flipped the two of you around so that he was the one pinned up against the wall. "Please, you couldn't wait to get me alone."

   You pressed your mouth to his again, running your tongue over his bottom lip for him to grant you entrance. He dropped his jaw so that you could explore his mouth with your tongue. All the while you were working your fingers into his hair, pulling his head aside to expose his neck.

   When you sunk your teeth into his skin he let out a combination of a yelp and a moan. "Jesus christ, woman."

   "What?" You asked innocently, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot where you'd bitten him.

   He chuckled, tilting his head for you to keep going. "You just might be more than I bargained for."

   The corners of your mouth pricked up into a smirk. "I guarantee I am."

   You sucked a harsh bruise onto his neck as you unzipped his jacket, slowly pushing it off of his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. You hadn't ever seen him without it, so you hadn't realized just how toned he really was. His muscles rippled under the loosely fitting material of his tank top. You could hardly peel your eyes away.

   "Wanna wipe up all that drool?" he teased.

   "Fuck off."

   "Nah, it's fine. You can admit you think i'm a dime."

   You wrapped your hand around his throat. "Would you shut the hell up?"

   His eyes went wide with excitement. "Yes ma'am."

   Your clothes flew off piece by piece amidst a montage of sloppy kisses and teeth grazing skin until he was sat back against a stack of crates with you straddling his lap. You gripped his shoulders as you slowly sank down on his cock, mouth agape and brows furrowed in a silent, pained moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. He felt even bigger than he'd looked.

   "You okay?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face so he could look into your eyes as soon as your hips were resting on his.

   "Just fine," you assured him, though you were sure your face was betraying you.

   "So you'd be alright with me moving right now?" He shifted experimentally and you felt a surge of pain stemming from where the two of you were connected.

   Your hands shot to his chest to stop him. "Let me."

   You slowly raised your hips and lowered them back down on him, building up a rhythm to get yourself comfortable until you were all but bouncing on his dick. His hands held your ass, lazily guiding you up and down his shaft.

   He threw his head back in a moan. "You're so fucking hot. Shoulda done this sooner. Shoulda made a move the second I laid eyes on you."

   "I would've thought you were a jackass," you retorted.

   He gave a breathy laugh in response. "Does that mean you don't now?"

   "I'm not sure i'd say that."

   His mouth quirked into an amused smile before he pulled you into a kiss, hot and passionate and wild. When you broke apart he rested his forehead against yours, letting his hands run over your skin to soothe you.

   "Do you need me to hold back still?"

   You shook your head.

   "Then you might wanna brace yourself."

   He gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. You buried your face into his neck, clawing at his back and tugging at his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded as he pounded into you relentlessly. He didn't slow until his tip rammed your cervix, causing you to squeal into his shoulder.

   He froze, pulling away so he could look at you. "Was that too much? Did I hurt you?"

   "I'm fine," you assured him.

   He rolled the two of you so that you were on your back. "I can slow it down for a sec," he said, rolling his hips so that he moved in long, slow strokes. With the angle he was at, he brushed all the right spots on each retreat. You were practically seeing stars.

   "God, Phinks," you breathed.

   "Yeah, babe? That feel good?"

   "Fuck, yes."

   Your hands snaked up his arms to pull him down into another kiss. Meanwhile, one of his hands moved between the two of you and settled on your clit. You gasped as his fingers started tracing circles against it and he used the opportunity to catch your bottom lip between his teeth.

   You arched against him, letting out a low whine. You appreciated how gentle he was trying to be with his slow thrusts, but it wasn't enough.

   "What is it, gorgeous?"

   "I want more."

   "More? You want me to be rough with you again?"

   "Please."

   He completely pulled out of you. The empty feeling left you ready to complain, but he cut you off when he grabbed you by the throat and said, "Get on your hands and knees."

   You quickly scrambled to do as he'd asked, nearly shaking with anticipation as he positioned himself behind you. You were expecting the sensation of his cock head teasing your entrance, but instead he landed a hard slap on your ass.

   "What the hell was that for?!" You yelped as he did it again.

   "You think you can act like a brat all night long without any consequences? You should've known you had this coming. You were practically begging for me to put you in your place."

   You didn't know how to react. You'd never had anyone treat you like that before. You were struggling to accept the fact that you kind of enjoyed it.

   He folded himself over your body so that he was speaking directly in your ear. "Now, you're gonna take every inch of me like the good little slut you are, got it?"

   You nodded, struggling to find words to respond to him.

   Once he got the go-ahead, he shoved your face down into the floor so that your back arched, making your ass stick up. He gave it one last slap before forcing the whole length of his cock into you at once.

   You cried out in pain, gritting your teeth as your walls accommodated his size.

   "You can take it," he said, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Can't you?"

   "Yes,” you whimpered.

   "Good girl.”

   His words caused a new heat to build between your legs. "Please," you begged, "fuck me."

   "Whatever you want, princess."

   He pulled back his hips and slammed them into you again, repeating the action over and over until he was was hammering into you even faster than before. You could feel that familiar coil of pleasure building once more, threatening to snap. As if Phinks could sense it, he dropped a hand down to give attention to your clit again.

   "Come for me, babe. I know you're close." He nipped at your ear. "I wanna feel you come on my cock. I wanna ride you through it until you're all fucked out. Let go for me."

   You did, letting your orgasm wash over you, carrying all of the tension in your body with it until you practically melted into Phinks. It was pure bliss.

  He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him and grabbed your hips, using them as handlebars to help him chase his own release. Within moments, you felt him stutter and a warmth spread through you, letting you know that he'd finished as well.

   Once the fog had cleared a bit from his head, he pulled out of you and rolled onto the floor, laying on his back. You collapsed beside him and watched his chest rise and fall heavily as he caught his breath.

   "You gonna be alright?" You asked. "I know senior citizens are at a higher risk for heart attacks if they overexert themselves."

   He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him, tilting your chin up and slipping his thumb between your lips.

   "You sure do like to mouth off. Maybe next time we'll have to put this to better use."

   You spat his thumb out. "Next time? You've got the wrong idea. This was just a one-off thing."

   He gave a hearty chuckle, like what you said had genuinely amused him. "Sure it was, babe. Whatever you say."

[clambuoyance]

Hi! Sorry for all the notification spamming, I just really really adore your art & the way you draw characters. It's so cool how recognizable all the characters you draw are, like their features/proportions/style idk its amazing. Do you have any tips for how to make a character consistently recognizable in drawings? Also, methinks Tim as Stray would be so much fun in a TimKon relationship, would you maybe pretty please consider doodling a bit of what you think that would look like?

Your brain is galaxy sized, your art is fantastic, and I hope you have a wonderful day<3

Ty! I’m just going to answer your first question, even though you asked forever ago 😭 I’ve drawn stray Tim before but we’ll see if I’m up for drawing it again

Anyways, as for making characters consistently recognizable, I think it helps to make character sheets.

Using my ocs for example, when I redesigned Rolin in my new style, I knew I wanted to have a very Shapey look, so I’d write notes on things such as: how the cheek should curve, what the nose shape is like or how many Fronds in his hair he should have lol

As you can see, I even have arrows indicating the motion of the lines. If you’ve seen some of my posts of my redesigns for the dc characters, sometimes you can see notes in them too. Sometimes I write them, and sometimes I just catalogue the set of “rules” I create for a character in my head.

So yeah, for further example, I knew keiko had to have softer shapes to contrast her with rolin’s personality. I can’t find it, but I have a page in my sketchbook just working out the shape of her hair, which was initially supposed to resemble a butterfly 🦋 but then I made it have boxy angles. Whenever I draw them, I guess I go through their Individual checklists in my head.

Like for rolin:

-more sharp eyes, in an almond like shape. Check

-cheek is curved but “steeper” and leads to a somewhat sharper chin. check

- I usually have to redo the nose a lot but once it’s in the right spot for me I check that off ig

Or for keiko:

- rounder, bigger, more oval like eyes. Check

- hair bangs should start a little to the left of the middle of her forehead line, then to the edge of her ear. Check

- her cheeks should be squishy and round, and she should have a smaller face with her features more closer together. Check

And so on and so on, and the character sheets help because then you get into the practice of doing those same lines over and over, and at different angles or expressions. So even though I want to stretch their face as they contort their facial expressions, I still follow the same structure and adjust accordingly to keep their form, if that makes sense, I’m not perfect at it but I like to think my designs are at least distinct from one another and consistently recognizable

And this is a recent example, which I haven’t posted on tumblr yet bc I have yet to color it, but this is me trying to explore barts design and making sure I could still make it look On Model despite the different facial expressions.

So in summary my strategy would be to

1. Sketch and explore the character design, write notes and study what lines or elements work or don’t work

2. Create a list or repository of the essential elements or a set of steps to recreate the same design

3. Practice and make a sheet where all you do is actually recreate that design over and over again, until your hand can just do it without your brain having to recall the steps one by one , if that makes sense

Of course, I like to redesign all the time as well but I try to at least capture the character’s essence 😗

[interative-tekst-blog]

Hii I'm the one who ask for the fluffy stuff with Akashi and Aomine ! Sorry I wasn't clear enough, my bad (and thanks for your oh-so adorable answer).They're separated, like each of them has his girlfriend ! No poly. Hope it's okay for ya

1st ask: Hi there! <3 So glad to discover a new knb blog haha. Can I have some fluffy time with Aomine & Akashi with their gf ? Like...dunno, take cares because their gf is exhausting because of school project... Ah it's up to you ! :D (sorry if my english isn't perfect i'm not native haha)

A/N: Hello! (´｡• ω •｡`) Thanks for clearing that up, I apologize for the long and unannounced hiatus on this blog (///￣ ￣///) I hope you like it! There is a general prologue and then it branches out into their separate ways. The parts for Aomine and Akashi will be separated and indicated (I hope that makes sense...). There is no warnings for this one! Just a lot of fluff! And academic suffering I guess.... This felt very real to write actually (ﾒ﹏ﾒ) Aomine's is also a bit flirty because that's what felt most right for him, I hope you don't mind! Enjoy! ~Admin JS

The day dragged on like flies on caramel, the syrupy smothness nauseating and entrapping, leaving you feeling in the emenency of drowning in the slow and sweet density of hours that refused to pass. If not for the pressing matters at hand, you would have given up on trying to work straight through this neverending day long ago, but with the deadline of this project fast approaching and your role in the group being scripting the entirety of the presentation, you decided to seclude yourself in the library in hopes of finishing off the base on which everyone will work out their own parts.

Your group of peers were as involved in the planning of the project as rats are involved in the admnistration of a professional kitchen — which is to say they intented to take all of the marbles and none of the responsability. You tried to resent them, but there was already enough on your plate to chisel away your forbearance for you to knowingly create a matter out of this. To put it simply, you rather just be done with it.

You felt the steady beating of your heart in your temples, rhythmic like the drumms that made thousands march into war, a collective percussion of thunder and lighting that, for a split second, even made your vision lose focus. You'd definetly be needing something for that headache later.

You use your tired hands to rub your face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion brought on by overworking yourself beyond the typical studying hours; ambition and sacrifice always walk hand-in-hand and you, aspiring and young student, seems somehow forever stuck in the liminal space between the two. You get your phone to check the time and catch a glimpse of your reflection on the sleek glass screen; your last year, and all of which that came with it, was visibly taking it's toll on you.

Checking the time, you knew the library would close soon. Only a few — those who were desperate in long and strenuous study sessions and the reckless, like yourself, who worked with little to no regard for their personal well being and health — remained in scattered tables full of their personal choices of research medias. You tried an experimental stretch and decided, as soon as you heard the painful cry for help coming from your spine in form of a loud and obnoxious "crack", that it was time to call it a day and give some rest to the tissues that held your existence together. It wasn't like the topics of your research were still making sense anyway; you'd get nowhere with this considering your current state of fatigue.

You had slowly started gathering your things, packing in no rush at all and even stopping at some point to just contemplate your aliveness and feel your own breathing, when you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you:

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

Akashi Seijūrō

You turn in your chair and are greeted by Akashi's cordial smile, polished and sweet and elegant and everything that brings immediate peace to your mind. "Ah, Akashi-san!" you exclame no louder than a whisper, your expression surprised and joyful like a child's. You keep the cordiality out of habit, muscle memory from the majority of the time when your relationship must be kept out of prying eyes, despite the fact you are mostly alone on this part of the library.

The rumors circling the Akashi family heir are already too much without any real fuel to them, and the redhead prefered to retain at least this part of his life a private matter. To you, it was just as good. Remaing under the radar and avoiding all that came with being a known face in a school like Rakuzan was an awfuly difficult asset to obtain.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?" he asks, pulling the chair besides yours to sit down. There is no real bite to his words regardless of the contents of his phrase. You scour the corners of your drained mind to try and remmember if you had any plans programmed with him for today. When you do recall, you cover your mouth with yours hands, completely stunned.

"I'm so sorry, Akashi-san. Really. Time got away from me. I just wanted to get as most as possible done today and ended up forgetting we were meeting up..." you set your expression into a apologetic one, regretful of the choice you made when you decided to keep on going after-hours. You simply did not remmember your plans to meet up and go home together. "I've held you up so long as well..." you make an exasperated noise, lowering your head on your arms on the table "Ahhhh, I'm so sorry!"

"That's alright. You were imersed on your work. That's very respectable, _______. Besides, I was also finishing some pendencies from the council, so you haven't held me up at all." he touches your back and awaits expectantly for you to look up at him. When you do look up, kepping your face still half concealed by your arms, you notice how his smile is warm and affectionate as he moves his hand up to you hair to pet it, amusement so obvious in his expression that his eyes are almost closed. You feel your cheeks heating up at that, flushed by the carefree display of affection in a place so public. "I just wanted to know if our plans are still standing."

You have heard how some of the students on the corridors sometimes refer to him as Prince, or even as Emperor, and although most of the time those aliases seem to you just immature and vain and too constricting to define Akashi's personality, there are times when you can't help but think you've gotten yourself a prince charming straight out of a fairy tale.

One of thoses moments is when he's playing. In court, he's as capable and mighty and commanding as the most remarkable of the emperors of times long past and, even with the sudden change you felt in him on his first year after the Winter Cup's loss, his imposing excellence remained as a second skin to him. It was mesmerizing, watching him play, you pictured him as sublime as a force of nature — equal parts wonderful and frightening in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Another one of thoses times was when you see him smiling at you like that, with the set of his shoulders spelling nobility and poise, his eyes glinting with something candid and honeyed and when his actions suggested all of the devotion he felt for you. You love him, dearly, and you find reprieve in the fact that the feeling is mutual. You raise your head, moving your chair closer to his.

"O-of course!" you stutter "That's it... If you still want to..." you speak slowly, as if testing the waters; a pointless disquiet tainting your voice. You hear his hushed laughter and there's sparks flying in your heart and butterflies in your stomach as if his laugh is the sound angles make when they sing in devoted content. He finds you endearing, and it becomes obvious by the way he relaxes into a more youthful posture and behavior when by your side. You love seeing him in the council meetings, and training in court, with his posture firm and impressiv; but nothing brings you more joy than watching him slip into the adolescent boy he is when there is no invisible expectation to fullfill and drive him to perfection.

"Of course I want to." he answers, lowering his elbow to the table and using it to prop his head on his hand, finding a better position to look at you from. "I know we were just going home, but I think we deserve a treat after this much work. What do you say? Are you hungry?"

Your first instinct stil is to let your humbleness win you over, even after so much time with him. You know he doesn't mind taking you in fun — and, most times, expensive — outings; in fact, he has told you more than once how he loves to spoil you rotten. Even so, you bite your lip in reticence and inhibition before answering in the way of propriety that you family raised you to:

"Wouldn't it be a problem for you? I don't want to be a bother." you ask. He sighs, almost unaudibly, and holds on of your hands in his.

"Certainly not. You could never be a bother to me, ______." he is final in his response; you are sure you can the sound os a gavel ringing distantly. After this, his face softens with love and hope "What do you feel like eating?" he presses you for an answer just with the look on his eyes that, besides being gentle and patient, is also demanding. You smile shyly, feeling your body's response to the prospect of food. And good food, considering the places Akashi has taken you before. You hope he can't hear the growl coming from your stomach.

"How about some guioza?" you propose.

"Sounds great. I know just the place." he smiles, standing up and offering his hand to you. After you have also stood up, he takes you backpack with him; you try to stop him, but he's having none of that. "Come on, I believe the driver is already waiting for us by the gate." you walk with him, watching with fondness as he passes by the librarian and greets her. She seems almost as warmhearted as you. You try to take back you belongings, only for him to switch the arm he is using to carry it with until he frustrates all of your tries.

He holds the door open for you to pass in a real gentleman manner, smiling as you timidly cross the open passage. After you gone through, he goes after you, calling your name. That gives you a pause, turning on your heel to stare at him expectanly.

"When we are alone, it would please me greatly if you called me just Seijūrō."

You let your jubilance seep through your face in the form of a juvenile smile, finding unmatched gratification in noticing that he mirrors your expression; there he is, your Seijūrō. The version of himself he shows only to you. His words are like an echo of a conversation from long ago, when he first requested you this. Your heart skips a beat just like that first time.

"It would make me very happy to do that as well, Seijūrō."

You let him take your hand as you walk to the car, happy and warm and full of young love.

Aomine Daiki

You felt the soft warmth of hands on your tensed and weary shoulders and stretched your neck to look up at the source of that dark and sweet voice, rolling like molasses off Aomine's tongue and reminding you that the reason for every sugar rush you ever had since you met him was this saccharine tone.

You made a small murmured sound of greeting and composed your face into a more recptive expression, letting your youthful joy transpire into your features and allowing your lips to form a spent smile that revealed not only the whites of your teeth to the blue-haired boy but also your contentment with his presence.

"Oh, hm... Hi, Daiki. I was just finishing up." You whisper to him while you try to rub away the fatigue off of your eyes when his airy laugh fills the silence sorrounding both of you as he sits down on the chair opposite of yours, not even trying to keep his tone down. This granted some stares from tables closer to yours, but you dind't noticed; the gravity of his presence was so jarring that you could do nothing besides let yourself be pulled to orbit around him.

"They really didn't come to help you out at all, did they?" he shakes his head, clicking his tongue on his front teeth, incredulous when you purse your lips and shrug, responding with a neagative "hm-hm". "You should just take their names out of the project and not tell anyone. Your doing all the work anyway, so is only fair." He muses, unimpressed, like it's only logical.

"That's cruel, even for you." you laugh, gathering the rest of your belongings and packing everything up nicely enough. "You know I can't do that. Besides, I much prefer it this way. I can do everything how I so please and they don't get to question it. They only get to say 'Thank you, _______, you'd saved us so much time' and at least try not screw up the presentation. Y'know?" Aomine gives you an impressed whistle and rests his elbows on the table between you.

"That's bossy." he reaches in your direction and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his warm and calloused hand soft against the skin of your cheek, staring into your eyes like he just found one of the wonders of the world shining in them, showing you the most handsome, most desarming, most youthful and playful smile he has in store. "I love it."

You can feel your blush creeping up your face in the direction of you ears, like fire burning up a hill. Your heart if so full of delight in that moment, being the sole object to that gaze. Aomine stares at you like you are the most precious rarity he has ever had the honor to look upon and the verity that blooms in the bright of his dark blue eyes never fails to make you feel exactly like treasure. You're caught so off guard you don't now how to respond, but that is not a problem considering that Aomine continues talking to you.

"You know, I was alredy planning on taking you out to eat or something today, but I guess I'll have to take you to that new place you been nagging me about. You deserve it after all of this.work" your eyes roll at that, but you had, in fact, been talking a lot about that new ramen place that opened just down the school street. However, his intonation surprises you, the choice of placement for the emphasis seemingly strange, and your confusion must be clear in the furrow of your brow because he explains: "Since you seem so tired and all... I think your not well enough to walk all the way there."

You open you mouth to protest, yet more confused than you were before, your frown even deeper. When Aomine stands, faster than what should be possible for someone as tall and broad as him, comprehennsion starts to dawn on you like the first lights of the day. Your slow and tired brain cannot bring you to react fast enough and, when you finally realize, he is alredy scooping you up into his arms along with all of your belongings.

"Daiki!" you protest, trying your best to keep your school skirt in place while on his firm hold and also trying to stop you backpack and folders from falling to the gound. You pass by the librarian in record speed right as she notices the ruckus your sappy boyfriend is causing in this place of knowledge. Most of the other worn-out students don't even have time to react to him as you pass them, you don't even notice how some girls stare in envious amazement. You turn to stare at Aomine's face and scold him but lose the courage as soon as you notice his expression, shinning eyes and big childish smile composing his features into something you cheerish more than anything else in this world.

It's insanely captivating, this bright expression of his, — which is something you have alredy said to him, albeit his desbelief in it — and before you even realize your expression starts mirroing his. You feel silly, and happy and warm and the long day of work seems like a speck of a faraway memory by the time he has ran with you out of the school library.

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

What are your current fandoms??

OH MY GOD!!! I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME THIS!! LETS GOOOO🥳🥳🥳

1. Black Butler<3

It would've been incredibly distasteful to not put this beauty on top of my list. I have been a fan of this one since 5th grade, the literal backbone of my insanity.

I may complain monthly over the agnoizingly short chapters, but the narrative and storytelling in this manga is one of my favorites ever.

Although you didn't ask, I have the need to mention: Ciel Phantomhive is my child!!

And yes, I am still awaiting Prince Soma's return.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a sebaciel wierdo and my space doesn't welcome the romanticization of pedophila. "waah waah but it's fiction!" okay?? my account is dedicated on fictional stories and characters and I don't want your wacky shit here. Thank you in advance.

2. Bungou Stray Dogs!!!

What a crime it would've been if I didn't mention the reason my account grew in the first place!!

BSD has such a special place in my heart. Tbh bsd saved me during the downfall that was 2021.

I think people who aren't new to my blog know I'm a sucker for Soukoku. I've made extensive analysis on their relationships for 3 years now. When will this brainrot end!?!?

And oh, of course I am forever greatful to the lovely @ryuuaka713 for collaborating with me on various post, I couldn't have done it without her!! Hope life treats you well! You got a tumblr friend always rooting for ya<3

ALSO: If any of you ever want to ask me anything regarding bsd that isn't Soukoku, please do! I love bsd as a whole and would be happy to answer<3

3. Berserk

Let me make one thing clear!!! I am NOT a berserk reddit fanboy who completely ignores and neglects the narrative of this story in order to fill whatever inner void that needs to be filled.

I am suuuper passionate about the Golden Age Arc and the Pre Eclipse era of Berserk, it would be impossible to shut me up about it.

I could go on billion rants about Griffith's character and his actual complexities throughout the narrative. (no, he isn't emotionless, that would destory the whole point of the story lol)

Also I want to give a not-so-subtle shoutout to @bthump for validating every single thought I had while reading Berserk and always providing textual evidence. Thank you for being the light in the darkness of this fandom!

4. Death Note

sighs yes I am still in the fandom of an anime that has only one season and ended so poetically that it makes perfect sense that it doesn't have a continuation yet my brain screams for content when obviously it will never happen.

Before anyone asks, I am not team Light or team L, both of them are selfish people and used others lives in order to beat one another.

I am a constant defender of the fact that the Death Note consumed Light. Not only is it textually stated; but it's visually stated

(Light's eyes get wider and more innocent looking for a reason when he forgets the death note guys!!!)

Anyways, this story is absolutely awesome and I think most people can agree with that.

I don't rewatch this anime often, but when I do I get shooked by the big brain plans and big brain confrontations lmao.

5. Moral Orel

"MORAL OREL SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN CANCELLED!! FOOLISH PEOPLE FEARED IT SPOKE TOO MUCH FACTS" I scream into a void, tears fill my eyes as losing my religion by R.E.M plays in the background.

Seriously though, I love this show; a literal masterpiece. I don't think theres any show that made me incredibly concious of how my own family's dynamic worked as this one did.

Has amazing takes of the human condition and contains life long lessons.

I once made a long post about the generational abuse of moral orel if you want to check it out!

Anyways, if you haven't had the glorious chance to watch this masterpiece. PLEASE DO!! I BEG!!! The whole series is out on youtube!

we don't talk about the first 3 episodes!!!

6. Sonic!!!!

I never post anything sonic related on my blog, but I adore Sonic! Not only my childhood, but it continues to pump off amazing content and games.

Fun fact: I have a cute mini sonic keychain my friend gifted me, I take it with me everywhere!!

DID YOU KNOW THAT KELLIN QUINN FROM SLEEPING WITH SIRENS WAS INVOLVED WITH THE SONIC FRONTIERS SOUNDTRACK!?!?!? AAAAAAA I LOVE SONIC GAMES MUSIC AND ITS DIVERSITY

Nobody asked, but my favorie character is Knuckles and Shadow for anyone who wants to know! (No one wants to know but I HAVE THE NEED TO SAY IT.)

anyways yes, I love Sonic, I am at arms-lenght with the fandom since i'm... well... not much into the furry stuff that goes on. But theres lots of fanmade content out there that is super cool!

IN CONCLUSION!?!?!?

I have lots and lots of other fandoms im in but i fear i will go on forever if I keep on talking.

Thank you so much for reading all the way through and please, don't ever hesitate to ask me anything related to any of these fandoms above. Hyper analizing stuff is my speciality after all:D