#bc that felt more right and it was bugging me

[candle-scm]

happy zukki week everybody

[aeb-art]

they never went, but it was a nice thought at least

geo belongs you @8um8le as always 🙇

edit: realized this is a good soundtrack for this comic

[junkissed]

pro bono

member — lawyer!wonwoo x lawyer!reader genre — smut, fwb to ?? word count — 1.1k synopsis — you and your coworker jeon wonwoo have been working on this case for months. now that it's finally over, he shows you that "for the public good" doesn't mean that he can't be good for you, too. aka: lawyer wonwoo fucking coworker reader after winning a case smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, prone bone (the title is a pun hehe), creampie (shocker i know!), spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mirror sex, coworkers fwb!wonu, gratuitous descriptions of how wide wonu's shoulders are just because i can notes — requested by @junhuisms sorry this took so long bff </3 — lots of love to @onlymingyus for proofreading !! — probably some legal inaccuracies bc i know nothing about the law i'm just here to fuck the hot man so go easy on me pls. i really meant for this to be a longer fic but it's been in my docs for almost a year and i've been trying to not pressure myself to write a certain amount so i hope this is still able to live up to your expectations :) i know i've been pretty mia recently but i'm trying to get back into the swing of things so feedback is super super appreciated! hope you enjoy! note #2 — tumbly still hates me and is super finnicky about putting my posts in the tags so i haven't been able to use my regular divider image bc it bugs out :(( i've tried everything i'm sorry but pls lmk how you like this new one!

you’d been working on this case for months, and it had been one to make or break your career. weeks upon weeks of research, reviewing documents and studying laws to make sure your arguments were seamless.

the upside to all this work, however, was that you got to know your coworker wonwoo better, who you’d been assigned to work on the case with. and by “get to know him,” what you really meant was “get railed every night after work”.

and tonight, after the trial had wrapped up and the court’s final decision had ruled in your favor, you found yourself where you’d grown accustomed to spending all your nights: in his penthouse apartment, and more specifically, in his bed.

the floor-length mirror in his room was one of your favorite things, because no matter what position you were in or how you were angled, you could always see wonwoo. see his broad shoulders, see his muscles flexing, see his abs tensing right before he cums; and god, it drives you crazy.

but it drives him even more crazy as he fucks you into his mattress, watching in the mirror’s reflection how your eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down your cheeks onto his pillowcase. 

it’s one of his favorite positions, as you’ve learned over the past few months, to have you lying flat on your stomach as he fucks you from behind. with your body at this angle, he can get so much deeper into you, you can practically feel it in your stomach, and with only just a handful of thrusts he can make you fall apart on his cock in a matter of seconds. 

tonight, however, it’s taken less than that to make you cum. the pride of winning the case has him on a high, and he barely even needed to get you stretched out first. but he did anyway, his face buried between your thighs for what felt like eternity until you were pushing his head away and begging him to stop teasing.

you yelp as he twists his hand in your hair, yanking your neck back so you can see your reflection in the mirror.

your eyelids droop heavily, jaw hanging open as wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror. “you see how well i fuck you, baby?” he groans, squeezing your hip with his other hand. “taking it so fucking well… i’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t i?”

all you can manage is a moan as tears begin to form in your eyes from the pleasure. you whimper quietly, noises muffled by the pillow as you struggle to catch your breath in between thrusts. you can already feel the burn of another orgasm in the pit of your stomach, and wonwoo’s hands pushing down on your lower back are making it impossible to hold back.

“my good girl,” he coos and he lets go of his hand in your hair, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself as your head falls forward and back down onto the pillow. “don’t hold back those pretty sounds. let everybody hear how you like to celebrate your wins. you deserve it, baby.”

“just as much a win for you— as it is for me,” you manage to gasp out. you struggle to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, determined to see the way his face contorts in the mirror. his eyebrows furrow as he adjusts the angle of his hips, staring down at your ass, back arching into him and forcing his cock deeper with every stroke.

he leans down over you, caging your body with his own, his mouth brushing against the back of your neck. “we both know you did most of the work. and this… this is your reward.”

“wonwoo—” you moan out brokenly as his hands knead your ass roughly, grabbing at your skin and spreading you apart so he can push into you with more force. you clench around him and he curses, his hips starting to stutter.

without warning he pulls out, rolling you over onto your back. you whine at the sudden loss and at the ache in your muscles, but wonwoo just leans forward over your body to kiss you and suddenly you forget everything you were thinking about. you’re so caught up in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding over your body that you barely even notice when he pushes his cock back into you, never breaking away from your lips as he starts out a steady rhythm, gradually building back up to his pace from earlier.

finally he pulls away, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your thighs and push your legs up to your chest. your breath catches in your throat with each thrust, your mind reeling as you concentrate on the feeling of him so deep inside you, pressing against that sweet spot over and over again.

his broad chest is the only thing that fills your vision as you cum, and your brain barely registers the words that leave his mouth in that deep, gravelly voice you’ve become accustomed to hearing nearly every night. 

“taking every inch so fucking well,” he grunts, forehead glistening with sweat. “god, you look so good taking my cock.” his movements become more and more desperate as he starts to chase his high, his fingers digging into your skin so roughly to the point that you know you’ll find bruises there in the morning. 

still breathing heavily, you whine out his name one last time, sending him over the edge right behind you in a matter of seconds. he lets out a guttural groan, continuing to snap his hips frantically as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.

wonwoo chuckles, handing you your purse and helping you shrug your coat on as you attempt to wipe the smudged mascara from your cheeks with your thumbs.

“same time, monday night?” you ask as he walks you down the hall to the elevator, holding the doors open with one hand.

he nods, not even making an attempt to hide the grin on his face. “you keep winning cases like you did today, and you might as well just move in. save you the trouble of calling a taxi every night.”

you laugh, knowing he’s not serious but your heart races at the thought anyway. “you keep fucking me like that, and i might take you up on that offer.”

he hums and raises his eyebrows, but you can tell he’s pleased. “i knew having that mirror installed was a good investment.”

you might not be getting paid for taking on pro bono cases, but just knowing that you’re helping people makes up for it. and of course, the compensation you get from your coworker is more than enough to keep you coming back for more. 

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

I love ur writing sm, like I would worship you if you wrote this request, basically, you are the 9th member of skz, yall are all dating, and today, they all had a concert. The first half of it went fine, but somewhere in the second half, you all heard gunshots, you reacting the fastest, saw them heading to (member of your choice) so you shove them out of the way while you take the bullet (chivalrous ikr). The members all immediately stop the concert despite u reassuring then you could finish (with blood everywhere) then the ending is just comfort and angst bc they didn't sallow u to do anything, and you got bored. Plsss take ur time if ur going to make this, I will literally cherish this with my heart if you make it

𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕖?

Warning: Angst

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It happened so fast.

One second, Y/N was standing next to Felix and Han, laughing and joking around with them, and the next, there was a blood-curdling scream that shattered the lighthearted atmosphere.

"Guys, duck!" Y/N screamed, her voice sharp and urgent.

She barely had time to process what was happening before instinct took over. In a split second, she shoved Felix and Han out of the way, her hands landing on their shoulders with enough force to knock them off balance. The world seemed to slow as they stumbled back, confusion still clouding their faces.

"Y/N—what—?" Felix started to say, but his words were cut off by the deafening sound of something heavy crashing against the floor.

The moment she pushed them away, Y/N’s eyes darted to the source of the danger. She had been watching them—Felix, Han, and the rest of the group—having fun, playing with the toys and gifts they had gotten from STAY. It was supposed to be a lighthearted day, a sign-meet with fans, some laughter, and silly moments. But something had felt off all day. The atmosphere felt thinner, like the air itself was stretched too tight, and Changbin had been out with a stomach bug, so the energy was lower than usual. They didn’t want to do the event, but it had been scheduled. They had no choice.

They’d gathered so many toys and gifts from STAY that it seemed like they were almost swimming in them. But right now, they were just strolling on stage, talking casually to the fans in the crowd. Y/N had been teasing Chan all day—playfully, of course. Then she had moved on to teasing the members of the Racha subunit—Felix and Han—just like she always did.

"Y/Nnie, look," Felix giggled, suddenly putting a pair of bunny ears on her head.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in amusement as she grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses from one of the gifts. "I look ridiculous," she said, still smiling.

"Let's take a picture!" Han beamed, grabbing the selfie stick and clicking a few shots, each one more ridiculous than the last.

Y/N held up a tiny pony plushie in front of them, laughing at how tiny it was. "Look what STAY got me," she giggled, passing it to the two of them.

The pair squatted down, completely entranced by the toy, their faces lighting up with genuine curiosity. Y/N snapped a few pictures of them, capturing how adorable they looked. She smiled softly, feeling a deep warmth in her chest. These were the moments she treasured—the small, quiet seconds when everything felt perfect.

Her gaze shifted over to Hyunjin, who was laughing with his usual carefree energy. She raised an eyebrow, confused, before her eyes landed on Chan.

The sight that met her eyes made her stifle a laugh. Chan, their leader, was wearing a tiara. It was completely ridiculous.

"So silly," she thought, shaking her head with a grin. She opened her mouth to call out to the crowd.

"Stay, don't you think our leader is a little too old to be a princess?" she teased, her voice light and playful.

Before she could even finish her sentence, she heard Chan yell, "Hey!" into the microphone, and a few giggles escaped from the crowd.

STAY responded with loud, drawn-out "nooo's," their laughter ringing out. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully at them but kept her focus on Han and Felix, who were still deeply engrossed in the tiny pony toy.

But something didn’t feel right. A strange sense of unease settled in her chest, making her skin crawl. She was on high alert now, her body rigid as her eyes scanned the surroundings. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

And then it happened.

A sound.

It was faint at first—a click, barely noticeable over the laughter and chatter around her. But it was enough to make Y/N freeze. The sound sent a jolt of adrenaline straight through her, and her military training kicked in. She had been through safety drills before debut, and she knew exactly what that sound was.

A gunshot.

Before she could react, a blur of motion caught her eye. A figure—clad in a large hoodie, with Felix’s SKZOO merch clearly visible—stood up from the crowd. The person’s face was obscured, but their intent was clear. The girl was shaking, tears streaking down her face, but her hands were steady as she raised the weapon in their direction.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Y/N didn’t have time to think. The world moved in slow motion as she lunged forward, adrenaline flooding her body.

"NO!" Y/N screamed, her hands pushing Han and Felix out of the way just as the girl pulled the trigger.

The loud bang of the gunshot reverberated in her ears as Y/N threw herself onto the ground, the sharp, metallic scent of fear thick in the air. Felix and Han hit the floor in a tangle of limbs, their faces contorted in confusion and terror. But Y/N barely noticed.

Her eyes were trained on the girl. The gun had been aimed at the boys, and Y/N’s body had moved before her mind could even catch up.

Everything happened so fast. One second, they were all laughing and smiling, and the next, Y/N had just saved their lives.

But the danger wasn't over. The moment her body hit the ground, she heard the sound of people shouting, running, and chaos erupting all around her.

Security was swift, moving through the chaos like trained professionals, their hands outstretched to clear the crowd and usher the members away from danger. But in the chaos, Felix crawled toward her, his face twisted in panic. His hands grasped at her arm, pulling her closer as he let out a strangled yelp of distress.

"Y/N! No, no, no!" he cried, his voice breaking.

She could barely move, her body feeling heavy and unresponsive. The adrenaline rush was fading, and all that was left was pain. As security worked to move her out of harm's way, Y/N’s side felt like it was on fire. It stung with every movement, sharp and unbearable. She forced her eyes open, her vision hazy, and that’s when she saw it.

Blood.

It was seeping through the fabric of her crop top, dark and spreading quickly. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Y/N?!" Han’s voice was frantic, barely audible over the chaos, but she could hear the terror in his tone as he tried to reach her. His voice cracked. "Oh my God… Y/N!"

Through the blur of bodies and flashing lights, she saw Chan, Hyunjin, I.N, and Seungmin being pushed away, separated from the group. But even from a distance, Y/N could hear Chan's voice—loud, desperate, shouting for them.

"Do something!" Felix screamed at the security guard who was already dialing 911, his voice thick with panic.

"Y/N? Can you hear me?" Han sobbed, his hands trembling as he tried to pull off her tight clothes to check the wound, his movements erratic in his panic. Felix had moved to her side, gently cradling her head in his hands, trying to keep her conscious.

"We need backup!" the security guard shouted, his voice tense as he spoke into his radio.

Y/N could barely register what was happening. Everything was moving too fast, and she felt too much, too much pressure, too much noise, too many people around her.

"Guys? Where are you?!" I.N shouted, pushing through the commotion, his voice filled with alarm as he searched frantically for his friends.

"Get Chan, I.N!" Felix yelled, his eyes wild with fear. "She got shot! Get him now!"

I.N froze for a second, stunned by the reality of the situation. His gaze swept over Y/N’s body, the blood staining her clothes, and his eyes went wide in shock. "What the hell?!" he gasped, his voice shaking as he took a step back.

"Get Chan, now! Go!" Han shouted again, his voice hoarse from the panic that was threatening to consume him. He reached down, trying to stop the bleeding, but his hands shook too much to do anything useful. He was a mess, just as terrified as Felix.

"Ow..." Y/N gasped, the pain intensifying now that the adrenaline was wearing off. A sharp, searing ache shot through her abdomen, and she couldn’t stop the scream that tore from her throat. It was raw, desperate, and filled with a pain she couldn’t even understand.

Everyone was crowding around her, too many hands, too much noise, too much pressure. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She wanted them all to stop.

"Felix? Han?" she gasped, her chest rising and falling in shallow, panicked breaths. She felt like she was suffocating. "Please... please, let me go." Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. She couldn’t stand it—everything was too much. She wanted space. She wanted air.

"Baby, we’re right here," Felix’s voice was soft, but there was desperation in it. He was cradling her head, his fingers gentle against her skin. "We’re not going anywhere. We're right here, okay?"

"Chan... Chan..." Y/N whimpered, her hands trembling as she reached out for anything, anything to grab onto. Her fingers found nothing but air. She could feel the pain growing, spreading through her body, and she knew she couldn’t last much longer without him.

"Chan..." she repeated, her voice breaking as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to hold on.

The paramedics were on her now, their hands moving quickly as they hooked her up to various machines, pushing IVs into her arms, trying to stabilize her. Y/N barely felt it. The sharp prick of the needles was nothing compared to the agony she felt in her abdomen.

"We need space!" one of the paramedics barked, his voice cold and professional, as the others worked to stabilize her. The security guards, looking frantic themselves, began pushing Felix and Han away to give the paramedics room to work.

"No!" Felix shouted, struggling against the security guard’s hold. His heart was hammering in his chest. "I need to be right here! She’s claustrophobic—don’t you see? She’ll panic if you take us away!"

"Please, we need space to work!" the paramedic insisted, his voice hardening as he tried to maintain control of the situation.

But Felix wasn’t backing down. He twisted in the guard’s grip, desperation clear on his face. "No! You don’t understand! She’ll freak out! She needs us! She needs me!"

"Where is she?! Where is she?!" Chan’s voice rang through the air, raw with panic as he shoved his way through the crowd. His eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, and his entire body trembled with rage and fear.

I.N had reached him, breathless from running, and before he could say anything, Chan’s eyes locked onto him, wild and frantic. "Where is she?!" he demanded again, his voice breaking.

"She’s over here! She’s over here!" I.N shouted, pointing through the crowd. "They’re working on her, Chan. They’re trying to save her."

The scene in front of him was like a nightmare. Chan’s heart stopped for a moment as he caught sight of Y/N, bloodied and pale, surrounded by paramedics, with Felix and Han still hovering anxiously at her side. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

He had to get to her. He had too. He couldn’t lose her.

With one final push, Chan broke through the crowd, his eyes wide, his breath ragged. "Y/N!" he cried, reaching for her.

His hands gripped hers with a desperation that didn’t care about the blood soaking into his clothes. The warmth of her skin, so pale and lifeless, felt like the last connection he had to her.

"We need to transfer her now," the paramedic said, his voice steady but urgent. "I’m sorry, sir. You can ride with us if you’d like."

Chan barely heard him. His focus was on Y/N, on her cold hand slipping from his as the paramedics gently lifted her onto the stretcher. His grip faltered, but he didn’t want to let go. Please don’t leave me, his mind screamed, but reality was moving too fast.

“Y-yeah, I’m coming,” he whispered, wiping his face with the back of his hand, trying to clear the tears, but it didn’t matter. They kept coming. He took a shaky breath and stood up, his legs feeling like they might collapse beneath him. He had to move.

“I need Lee Know. Where is he?” Chan asked, his voice hoarse as he searched frantically for a familiar face.

One of the managers, still on the phone, glanced up from her conversation. “His changing room. He doesn’t know anything’s going on right now,” she said quickly, cutting off the call. “Go get Lee Know now,” she ordered another staff member, who immediately ran off in search of the missing member.

Chan nodded, turning to go after Y/N’s stretcher, but a shout stopped him in his tracks.

“Hyung!”

His heart skipped a beat. He turned, finding Felix in I.N’s arms, his face streaked with tears, his body shaking violently. Han, still in a state of panic, had managed to get through the crowd and was now crumpled into Chan’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

“This is my fault, hyung! This is all my fault!” Han choked out between gasps for air, his voice thick with guilt. “She won’t forgive me, she won’t forgive me…”

Chan’s heart broke for him. He pulled Han closer, trying to soothe him, even though his own chest felt like it was being crushed. “Hey… shh,” he cooed softly, brushing his hand through Han’s hair. “Stop. It’s not your fault. You hear me? None of this is your fault. Don’t think like that.”

Han’s sobs only grew louder, and Chan, desperate to calm him, took off his sweater and wrapped it around Han’s shoulders. He was only wearing a vest, and Chan could see how shaken and cold he was. “Let’s go to the hospital, yeah?” Chan said, his voice firm but gentle.

Han nodded slowly, wiping his face with a trembling hand. “Yeah… yeah, hyung.”

Before they could move, another voice cut through the commotion, sharp and full of rage.

“Hyung?! What the hell?!”

Chan turned to find Lee Know standing at the edge of the crowd, his face flushed with anger and confusion. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes—bloodshot from lack of sleep and stress—were scanning the room in disbelief.

“Why wasn’t I told before? Where is she? What the hell happened?” Lee Know was seething, his voice low but furious, and Chan felt his stomach drop.

“She’s with the paramedics,” Chan said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady despite the chaos. “I need you to take the kids and meet me at the hospital. Please.”

Lee Know barely seemed to hear him. His eyes were still darting around the room, searching for something, anything, that could make sense of the mess. “Okay, but if she dies, I swear to God…” His voice trembled with emotion, a dangerous edge creeping into his words. “I’ll sue this company. I don’t care about my image. If anything happens to her…”

“Lee Know, not now, please…” Chan interrupted, his voice pleading as he grabbed his phone from the assistant who had been trying to help him. He needed to leave. He needed to be with her. “Just take care of the kids. Get them to the hospital.”

Lee Know nodded sharply, his face tight with a mix of anger and worry. He didn’t say anything more as he reached for Han, pulling him gently out of Chan’s arms. “I got you, Han. Let’s go.”

Chan didn’t have time to process it all. He was already rushing through the crowd, trying to catch up with the paramedics. His mind was a blur, thoughts racing too fast to make sense of them. All that mattered was Y/N. He had to be with her.

As he finally caught up with the paramedics, his heart skipped again. He sat in the back as he watched them work. He could hear them talking to each other, medical jargon flying over his head, but he didn’t care about any of it. His eyes were fixed on Y/N’s pale form, her chest rising and falling with the aid of an oxygen mask. Her face was still, and the blood on her clothes haunted him, more than any words could.

"Y/N…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please, stay with me. Please."

One of the paramedics glanced at him, then at Y/N. "We’re almost there, sir. We need you to stay calm. We’ll do everything we can."

But Chan barely heard them. His grip on his phone tightened, his thumb brushing over the screen as he dialed Changbin, his mind only focused on one thing: whoever did this had to pay.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you @galaxy4489!

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[sapphicmsmarvel]

tattoo artist azriel

Notes: possibly pervert azriel but y/n’s a pervert too. Dirty lines. This wasn’t gonna be smut but it is now. Sub Azriel but also, he’s a power sub. This derailed so fast. I promise we will go back to the tattoo stuff eventually. Plus size reader. Lots of run on sentences. I can't write smut so I tried my best. 

funny enough this is probably one of the fics that’s nearest to my heart. 

Word count bc this is the longest thing ive ever written at a whopping 4k

Pls listen to motivate by little mix for this. 

-You met each other because your friend worked at a tattoo shop with him. 

-When you walked in the door and saw this man that looked like a greek god standing there you almost bolted in the opposite direction and was going to text your best friend to just meet you outside. 

-You knew about Azriel from your best friend. Kind but introverted. He didn’t talk much aside from jokey comments. But he was a man that your friend had deemed a safe one. You knew he was attractive based on photos, but the first moment you saw him in person, you didn’t expect him to still be so attractive. 

-Little did you know, he also knew about you. 

-He had seen a picture of you because on your friends desk there’s a collage of you and all of your guys’ friends. Anything that gives her motivation in such a touch and go industry. 

-It was a photo where you were laughing at something your friend had said. Mouth fully open, nose scrunched and eyes squinting. 

-He was enamoured with you. Something about you just put him into a trance. He didn’t want to sound like a stalker, because he sure felt like one. But he thought you were really pretty. 

-He got to meet you because you had come to pick your best friend up for lunch. She was finishing up with a client as you sat at the front of the building. 

“You can walk back there with her, you know.” Azriel leaned against the counter.

You shook your head, “nah, I’ll start yapping and oversharing with her client. She doesn’t need that.” 

He chuckled, “I’m Azriel.” 

“I’m Y/n.” You beamed and he felt his heart squeeze. 

-Your best friend interrupted you two ten minutes later to drag you to lunch. He couldn’t help the blush that formed on his face when you waved and smiled with your big pearly whites. 

-After a few months, he got the nerve to ask your best friend about you. He saw you about once a week now to pick your friend up for her lunch break. And every time he tried to work up the nerve to ask you out or ask your friend about you. You guys would chat every single time you saw each other, slowly getting to know each other more. 

-”Hey.” Azriel started. 

“Hey!” Your best friend chirped. “What’s up?” 

“Is Y/N single?” 

She had stopped sketching completely and looked up at him. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be asking this as a joke.” He blinked in surprise. 

“Azriel, she’s a serious type of girl. She’s not into hookups, and if you break her heart I have a slew of inappropriate things to tattoo on you.” 

His stomach sank, this wasn’t going well. “I’m serious. I really like her, she's funny and cute.” 

“She’s also queer. You need to be okay with that in order for me to let you date her.” She narrowed her eyes at Azriel, vetting him for you. “Oh, that doesn’t bug me. As long as she’s into men right?” He shrugged. 

“In her words, she unfortunately is.” He knew she was testing him. For homophobia, or if he was okay with men-bashing.

Considering he knew he wasn’t the problem, he was totally fine with men-bashing. 

“Lucky for me.” He said determinedly. 

That’s when your friend smiled, and began forming a plan. 

-Your friend through a summer solstice party. It was a bonfire in her backyard. You and Azriel had been briefly seeing each other all night. But at the end, you two were by the fire and began talking. 

-He looked up to your friend's house and saw her give him a big thumbs up. He appreciated the encouragement but he was wigging out. 

-He had brought you two s’mores and a blanket for the cool summer air. 

You two happily munched on the snack, then he decided to get it over with before he threw up into the fire pit. 

He looked over and saw you looked ethereal in the warm hues of orange and yellow as the fire crackled and popped. You had just licked a smudge of chocolate from your thumb. 

He took a deep breath, “Y/N, I have a question.” 

“Oh don’t say it like that. My stomach just fell into my ass.” You said exasperated. Fearing the worst. 

“It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you don't think it is.” He sighed, “will you go on a date with me?” 

“You don’t sound too happy to ask me out.” You laughed nervously. “No! No. I’m just so nervous. You’re really pretty and smart and funny. I've been interested for months.” He’s never been so candid towards someone he’s pursuing, but you are special and have the ability to strip him bare without even trying. 

You smiled, “I want to say yes…” 

“But?” He prompted. “It’s really scary for me to date.” You confessed, nervously biting your lip. “Tell me about it.” He shifted more towards you so he was facing you. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” 

Your heart turned gooey like the melted chocolate you had just eaten. “It’s really me that’s the problem.” 

“I doubt that.” He said earnestly. 

You huffed a laugh out your nose. “I’ve been on two dates. They both sucked and just made me feel shitty. I don’t like feeling like that. And there’s so much pressure to look good and be this person I don’t know if I am.” You shrugged. “Like putting the best parts of myself and not my whole self.” 

“No offense, but only two? Honestly, you’re really attractive. I was expecting more competition.” He quickly realized how bad ‘only two’ sounded. He didn’t want to accidentally make it seem like he was calling you a ‘slut’. Even if you did sleep around, that didn’t stop him from being interested. 

You shrugged. “Nobody wants to date a queer fat girl because they're insecure.”

That sentence pissed him off on your behalf, however he loved that you knew they were insecure and that you deserved better. 

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said. 

You blushed, “thank you. And I know you mean that.” 

“I do.” He nodded, then he got an idea. “Do you feel shitty right now? Is this feeling like you’re performing?” “No?” You answered with your own question. 

“How about this for our first date?” 

You giggled, “we’ve barely seen each other tonight.” 

“This. Right here by the fire. This can be our first date.” He declared. “No pressure. No performing.” 

It was so cute and sweet, he’s so cute and sweet. 

You couldn’t help your answer. “I’d love that. Let’s schedule a second one?” 

He felt like his chest was about to collapse from happiness.  

-Your second date, he drove his motorcycle to pick you up. He had advised against dresses or skirts and to make sure to bring a jacket. 

You felt your heart race the second you saw this hot piece of ass on a motorcycle with a helmet for you.

-At stop lights he would reach an arm around to stroke your thigh. And while it was very forward, it gave you the courage to run your hands up and down his chest. Your nails lightly grazing his pecs. 

-He was glad the light turned green so he could think about something weird to get his boner to go away. 

-You two ended the night at a rooftop bar that your friend advised him on. You hadn’t been there but she knew you’d love it and you did. 

-The warm summer breeze but there was still a slight chill. The fairy lights, the city lights. The appetizers and drinks. Alcohol for you, non-alcoholic for him. 

-You felt peace with him. Like you aren’t being scrutinized or put on display. You felt more comfortable with him than you felt with most people. 

-And you had only known him for a few months. 

-You felt safe and protected. 

-Once he dropped you back at your place. You didn’t want the night to end which was rare for you. Usually, you couldn’t leave a date fast enough. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, he was blushing and nervous. 

“Please do.” You whispered. 

“Trust me, Y/N. You never have to beg when it comes to me.” He confessed before he pulled you to him. 

It was a kiss that made your knees weak. It was intense, it was butterfly inducing. You felt flames in your stomach caress up to your chest. Your chest swooped with adrenaline.  His hands moved from your waist to your cheeks, cupping them as he kissed you deeper. You had kissed others before, you had hookups, but they never made you wet from a simple kiss. 

But this wasn’t a simple kiss. You always thought romance books were incorrect but it was nice to have fantasy. No, this was straight out of fiction. 

You wanted to suck his soul out. You wanted to become so intertwined within each other you wouldn’t know where you ended and he began. 

“Come inside.” You said, pulling away from him, he continued to kiss your neck as you fumbled the keys. 

“This wasn’t my intention by kissing you.” He whispered in between kisses behind your ears. 

Ah ha! You finally got the key into the lock. “Yeah well you got me wet so you’re gonna fix it.” 

He was clearly caught off guard because he snorted a genuine laugh. “It would be my honor.” You finally opened the door. 

The second that door was shut and locked you dropped to your knees. “Y/N.” He hissed. “I was planning on eating you out.” 

“Okay and I’m going to suck your soul out.” You fumbled the zipper.

“Y/N-”

“Azriel I have never wanted to suck a man's dick the way I do yours. Please? Let me?” You made sure to throw on your big puppy eyes and you got him. 

He threw his head back. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“Good.” Your eyes darkened. “Now, unzip your pants for me like a good boy.” 

He sighed, “you’re going to wreck me. But also I’m allowing this because I can’t wait to fuck you till you cry.” 

Oh fuck. Was your only thought as his pants and underwear hit the ground. Causing his cock to spring up and smack his stomach. 

Not only were his words scorchingly hot, but seeing his tattoos up and down his body was a wet dream incarnate. 

He was thick and long. His tip was red and weeping. A fat drop of precum on the tip. 

And he was pierced. He had a jacobs ladder piercing which made you salivate and wonder how it would feel inside you. There was a snake tattoo wrapped around his waist, with its head by his belly button and then the tail ending part way down his left thigh. 

You could not wait to get your tongue on his skin. 

You licked a stripe from his balls to tip. He hissed as your warm mouth enveloped his most sensitive skin. 

You were glad you had blowjob practice before him, his dick hit the back of your throat and you were able to stop yourself from gagging. You could feel he was holding back so you came off of him with a pop. He groaned in annoyance but then somehow felt harder than before when you hoarsely whispered:

“Fuck my throat, Azriel.” 

He swallowed, “tap my thigh if it gets too much.” 

You nodded, smiling. Your swollen lips were a siren’s call. You were practically vibrating to get your mouth on him and be used. 

He grabbed your hair gently, yet firmly and used your mouth like a fleshlight. It was so delightfully filthy it made you grow even wetter.

You’ve never been more happy for a guy to shoot his load down your throat. You swallowed every drop. 

He had a good diet at least because his come didn’t taste like battery acid. 

He shucked off the rest of his pants and pulled you from your knees quickly. He pulled you into a kiss. “Fuck, it should not be so hot to taste myself on your lips.” He murmured between your swollen lips. 

He took off your tank top, showing your sports bra. “Where’s your room?” He said kissing your throat. 

“Down the hallway, the only door on the right.” You whispered huskily. 

“Good, because I’m about to do some multitasking.” He said, then lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. 

“Shit!” You yelped. 

He then dove into your cleavage, however you pulled his head away and ripped your bra off and threw it so he had easy access. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and you moaned. He really did multitask because he began walking to your bedroom. 

“Left of the door against the back wall, is my bed.” You said between gasps. He switched tits. 

You didn't even realize you had moved so fast until your back hit your bed. He ripped his shirt off and you couldn’t help but gaze at his ink. Whorls and delicate lines inked down his chest as if there were shadows caressing his skin. You had seen his arm tattoos constantly and they never failed to take your breath away, but these. 

These were almost as sinful as the snake on his hips. 

He began kissing down your stomach. 

“This isn’t like me.” You whispered as he kissed your chubby stomach. 

“What?”

“I don’t do quick…hookups.” “This isn’t a hookup to me, Y/N.” He nearly growled as he tore your leggings and panties down your legs. You looked down to see him sniff your panties greedily and felt more warmth gush from your cunt. 

“You have no idea what I’ve thought about doing to you.” He said darkly. He grabbed your thighs. “I’m about to make you forget about anybody before me.”

“Well, no one’s gone down on me before so…” You trailed off weakly. 

He shot his head up from kissing your thighs. “What.”

You shrugged, feeling slightly defensive. “No one’s really wanted to.” 

“The day I say I don’t want to eat you out, shoot me. Cause that’s not me.” 

“Well, let’s not go that far-oh!” You yelped as you felt his teeth graze the soft skin of your thigh.

“God, these thighs…” He muttered, biting your thigh gently, causing a sting of arousal to shoot straight to your clit. His warm tongue soothed the light bite marks. 

You moaned. His mouth sucked your clit into his mouth with so much force your back bow3ed off the bed. 

“Fuck.” You cried out. 

He spelled his fucking name in your cunt with his tongue. His teeth ever so slightly grazed against the nub. How he knew you liked some pain you had no idea but you were grateful for such an intuitive partner. 

It didn’t take long for you to get to the crescendo of this symphony. The slurping sounds, his moans as he tastes you, it was enough. 

Your wildest fantasies didn’t live up to this. Your vibrator for once, did not beat the actual act of intimacy. 

He licked you gently as you came down from the high. He crawled up to your face and gave you a sweet kiss where you got to taste yourself. 

“Fuck, you were right. Tasting yourself on your partner's lips is hot.” You sighed. 

He chuckled, “I don’t have condoms, if you even wanted to go that far.” He said sadly. But you knew it was cause he didn’t bring condoms. Not over the fact that you might not want to go that far. 

“Top drawer of the left nightstand.” You whispered. 

He smiled like he was given his favorite candy. He walked over and grabbed it, tearing it open gently with his teeth and rolling it onto his dick. 

“Please tell me if it gets too much, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Please fuck me Az.” You begged. 

When he entered you, he thought he was going to bust right there. You were warm and inviting. Then you clenched around him and based on the gleam in your tear filled eyes, you took great pleasure in torturing him. 

“You know, when you’re used to my size I’m going to make you regret that move.” 

“Oh, so you have an ego?” You said and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your heels digging into the meat of his ass. 

But you weren’t fairing well either when it came to self control. He felt so fucking good. His piercings pressed up against each muscle inside of you. Rubbing against your walls so deliciously that your toes were curling. Your eyes filled with tears because the pleasure was so incredibly intense but you wanted more. You were ready to dive headfirst and drown in all things Azriel. 

He deeply, yet gently, thrust into you, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you (that nobody has ever hit before) causing you to gasp and arch into him, forcing him deeper. 

Your senses were in overdrive. Skin slapping, moaning, gasping, bed squeaking. Feeling his abs pressed against your soft stomach as your tits we’re pressed against his pecs. His head pressed into your neck as he deeply thrusted in and out of you.  

Neither of you lasted much longer. 

-After intense aftercare and very sweet words. You two decided you were a couple because you were insane for each other even after only two dates. 

-It was incredibly impulsive. But it felt good and felt like he was your forever. That’s when you believed in the saying “when you know, you know.”  

-Once you and Azriel began officially dating and calling each other ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’. He put a picture up of you at his station. You were looking at the city lights from a rooftop bar you two had gone to. You were gazing out towards the lights with a sweet smile on your face. Your hair was a mess because you had just gotten off of work and needed drinks and appetizers with your man to decompress. 

-You didn’t even know he had taken it. Which made it more meaningful for him because you weren’t posing or ‘making yourself look nice’. You were real, authentic and gazing at something you loved, the city lights. 

-Your best friend saw it and her heart felt like it grew bigger because she knew you had someone who cared for you. 

-His IPad was filled with drawings of you. Some were able to be shown but a lot were just for his eyes. He couldn’t help it. Your thighs and rolls looked like they were sculpted by Greeks themselves. So delightfully plush. 

-He also dabbles in photography. Either with his phone, polaroid or film camera. He makes you put different lingerie on so he can keep the images of you forever. 

-and jack off while you two are apart from each other. 

-This man is loyal. Not only were you at his station, but there was a polaroid in his phone case of you. That one was a bit more risque and you only allowed it to be taken and put in his phone case because his phone case was black and no one couldn’t see through it. It was just in the back of his phone as a bit of motivation to keep working for his hot girlfriend. He’d pop his phone case off and secretly peek at it. 

-it was you in a dark blue lace corset. You had posed with a hand heart against your chest and a beaming smile. It would be seen as innocent if it wasn’t for the clothes you were wearing and the fact that your nipples were seen through it. Your tits were deliciously pressed up tight against the lace cups. 

-On his lock screen was a blurry photo Feyre had snapped of you two at a party. He was kissing your temple, you were half in his arms. Your arm that was wrapped around his waist and closest to the camera. Except it was flipping off Feyre (the live photo you can hear your laugh and Feyre’s and then the camera pans down because Feyre was caught). Your eye was winking from the force of Azriel’s kiss on your temple. Your smile was wide and you were clearly laughing. 

-He stopped letting clients take their clothes off for placement tattoos. Even if in some cases it could be easier to tattoo a cleavage with the person's top off, he won’t do it. -He feels bad enough that his arms have to rest on their chest. 

-The only tits he wants to see are yours. 

-You find it hysterical that so many people fall for your man. It was a bit of masochism in your case, enjoying flaunting the fact that this God of a man was taken and happily invested in you. 

-It helped that your man was totally fine with you being a weirdo. 

-One time he bent over in front of you and you just, “I want to bite your ass.” 

“I mean, you can.” 

-You’ve tied bows around his biceps and taken a picture. You loved that photo because not only does this big buff tattooed man have a little pink bow wrapped around his biceps but there's also red kiss marks all over his arm. 

-That photo alone could get you off. 

-You’re a big fan of marking your territory. You keep red lipstick in your bag just to give him a kiss on his neck or anywhere where anybody could see it. Just to mark your territory. 

-He eats it up. Like “yes that’s my lady, yes she’s hot. and she’s all mine and i’m all hers.” 

-Usually leads to you two fucking in the bathroom. 

-He is your good boy but can also choke you the fuck out. 

“Come on, take it like a good girl.”

“Use your words, baby. I can’t decipher your babbling.” As he overstimulates you with his tongue and a vibrator. 

-He’d happily be used as your personal toy. 

-You sneak photos of him tattooing clients, it’s just so hot to see him so focused and into his job. 

-He definitely offered to tattoo you but you kept declining, then he designed a beautiful sleeve design that incorporated all of your favorite books for your one year anniversary. 

-So you got that sleeve done. 

-It was one of the only parts of your body that had ink. You were a baby with pain but it was satisfying too. The only way you sat through for a sleeve is all the kisses Azriel gave you. 

-He was never the type to like partner tattoos but he gets it with you. He has a heart with your first initial on his right ring finger as a promise to put a real ring on his left ring finger that also belongs to you. 

-At tattoo conventions, tons of artists always want to meet him. You try to encourage them to go talk to him because let’s face it, Azriel is intimidating to just walk up to. His art style is very recognizable and people love him. 

-You’re known as the Shop Sweetheart. Not only does your boyfriend work there but so does your best friend. It’s common that you drop coffee or food off if the team is working late. 

-He treated you like a queen. Nobody had ever treated you so kindly yet also messed with you like a best friend would.

-Peace and love to your girl best friend. But this man was your partner in crime and in love.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 

John’s icon dims. 

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 

He tried to call as often as he could. 

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening. 

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 

You steel yourself and raise the box. 

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 

Pregnant. 

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

TAGS:

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[doofnoof]

@7-11thuniverse my tags Explain why I am. Confused to say the least, answering Prev

Tldr; most of the critters I know are less "please don't bother us we wanna be left alone" and more "SKYRIM BELONGS TO THE NORDS" like?? I have been consistently dealing with the Katsuki Bakugo of the Natural World. Not even kidding, the Chasing experiences where a critter has fallen on my face/out of my hair/out of an object are all real, and most choose to die fighting, with honor or smth. One particular spider had to have a work boot thrown at it twice because it kept getting back up and rearing it's front legs at my mom before running forwards a bit. Yes I did pee a little. No I don't know what his entire problem was.

YOU DONT HAVE DRYERS IN AUSTRALIA???

KANDI WHY

HOW DO YOU WASH YOUR CLOTHES??

DO YOU JUST

WEAR SOGGY CLOTHES AFTER A WASH??

HAVE YOU NEVER EXPERIENCED WARM CLOTHE FEELING AFTER A DRYER CYCLE ENDS??

WELL WE *WASH* OUR CLOTHES IN A WASHING MACHINE BELEIVE IT OR NOT BUT FOR HOW WE *DRY* OUR CLOTHES WE JUST USE A CLOTHES LINE CUZ BELEIVE IT OR NOT ITS RELATIVELY WARM ALL YEAR ROUND IN AUSTRALIA SO WHY WASTE MONEY AND ELECTRICITY WITH A DRYER WHEN ITS WAY SMARTER TO JUST USE A LINE?????

(i have one of these washing lines but its like over 20 years old and super broken so it cant close but thats okay)

[mashiraostail]

Plleeassee 'you can sit on my lap' with Halsin PLEASEEE

ur wish is my command I did SFW bc it felt right but lemme no if u want different :3

It was always the same, which was sort of what annoyed you. It's not that your day to day fights had been particularly hard it was just the constant bumps and scrapes and bruises that weighed you down. Never enough damage to justify wasting healing magic, but just enough that you were uncomfortable in your day to day. You left some wounds to heal even once you're back at camp, preferring to let the others get fixed up before you. Today you could feel the itchy irritation of a cut healing over, right across the bridge of your nose. It was a constant bother, like a bug flying around your face, a tickle that would not subside no matter which way you scrunched your nose up.

"This city air isn't doing anything for me either." You feel Halsin's hand come down on your shoulder, heavy and warm. For a moment you were confused, you'd not complained at all since setting off for the day, then you realized your discomfort may be less subtle than you thought.

"Oh..." You wave, "who am I to complain?" You did enjoy Halsin, well perhaps more than enjoy.... given your late night trysts. Though he was still unfamiliar to you in some ways, and lacking a formal name for what the two of you shared often left you uncertain in your day to day with him.

"Please, I think this city would benefit from some complaining." He looks down at you, "I thought I was the only one."

"No..no.." You resist the urge to peel the scab over the bridge of your nose away, you were certain you'd start gushing blood all over, which given your current location made no sense at all. It had actually been a rather tame day so far, and it was already almost over.

"I think even the most dedicated Baldurians have it in them to complain about the smell from time to time." You give in, and start to chip away at the corner of the scab closest to your tear duct.

Halsin just laughs, "I see, well I suppose it's good to know I'm not alone..." He removes his hand from your shoulder and looks around a bit as you walk, though he stays close to you.

You can't help but hiss at the feeling of your skin peeling back, beyond the first wound, you supposed that was karma for picking it.

"Are you alright?" Halsin turns over his shoulder at you, "I heard you-" He looks down at your hand by your nose, "leave that alone." He bats your hand away, "you should have let me clean it up days ago, see now? You've made it worse."

"It's itchy." You rub the bridge of your nose for emphasis, "and I can't help it. I've always picked at my scabs, where do you think all these cool scars came from?"

"I can't say I doubt that. But still, this city is dirty, it's best to not bare an open wound to this kind of air." He procures a small cloth and dabs at the blood as it appears, "it's good you didn't peel open this whole thing, and it's a wonder you've not complained till now."

You can't help but flush at the attention, if anyone with you notices they spare you, "I'm alright, I've dealt with much worse."

"I'm sure you have, but there's no need with me around.... To tell you the truth," He dabs the small cloth with his tongue and wipes the dirt and grime away from the edges of the newly opened flesh, "I enjoy doting on you."

You look down at your boots to avoid looking at him, you can feel your ears burning.

"It's hard to see the damage out here, do you think you can hold out till we set up camp for the day?"

"Of course-" You swallow your embarrassment, "I'm okay like this, I'll live."

"Oh I hope so." Halsin is smiling at you, "who knows what I would do otherwise." He hands you the cloth, "keep this, incase it bleeds anymore."

"Thank you." You look up at him, "you've been a big help."

"Don't thank me, just.." He guides your hand holding the cloth up to your nose, and uses it to cover the wound, "keep it clean until we settle in for the night." You can only nod up at him.

True to your word you do keep your wound covered in the cloth for the rest of your journey that day. It was a long one, boring too. As much as the little battles left you irate, a boring day of gathering information and talking to every no name on the street was equally irksome.

When you get back to camp Halsin seems busy with Gale, who despite his best efforts is always the most banged up by the end of the day. You almost feel bad for him, until you see him bright and pristine every morning. So you sit by the fire, content on sharpening a stick into some sort of miniature spear, humming to yourself.

When Halsin finds you all of the dark bark has been scraped off the stick leaving it white and brittle looking.

"You hide in plain sight you know?" He offers you a hand and you take it, allowing him to hoist you up to your feet.

"It's one of my many talents." You toss the sharpened stick down, "how's Gale?"

"He's fine, I apologize, I should have come to you first."

"No," You laugh, "I'm sure he needed it more than me. You're here now."

"I am." He smiles at that, wider than you'd ever previously given yourself credit for, "come, let me see." He waves you closer and leans down toward you.

Once you've closed most of the gap you feel his eyes wander beyond the gash over your nose, down to your neck and collarbones, all to way to your wrists.

"Now that we're close like this...when was the last time you've been healed? Has Jaheria been taking up the job in my stead?" He seems almost offended at the thought.

"No-" You shake your head, "No, I've been mostly alright."

"Alright? You're practically covered in cuts and bruises- let's go someplace more private, you should have a once over." He guides you with a hand sprawled out between your shoulder blades, not leaving room for protest.

"You should have come to me sooner." He breaks the silence once you're away from camp, surrounded by trees and brush.

"You're always helping the others, I'm used to this, I'd rather they get what they need." You insist, gesturing vaguely to yourself.

"You can all have what you need." Halsin seems perplexed, "there's more than enough healing magic to go around, you don't have to worry about that."

"well it must be exhausting, constantly casting spells, you're always taking care of the others, what about you?"

"What about me?" Halsin tilts his head at you quizzically, "I'm alright too."

"Well who takes care of you?"

"When you live as long as I have," He starts tending to some of the smaller cuts on your arms, "you learn to take care of yourself. It comes with time."

"That's not fair." You frown, "everyone relies on you. It must be a heavy weight, especially with no one to lean on, or to rely on to care for you."

"You." Halsin sits on an old stump, "I have you. We care for each other....unless I'm mistaken."

"You're not." You allow him to turn you around, inspect you every which way for any major damage left untended.

"Good. Come here." He waves you into him but you stand, flushed and confused before him.

"Here." He gestures again, "you can sit in my lap."

Nervously you do, slotting yourself against him. It hadn't been many times but you'd sought his company before, and the feeling of his large hand cupped around you thigh was welcome, almost calming. It doesn't take very much magic at all to get you right again, and you're glad to accept it, at this point the constant discomfort was bordering on pain.

"You must be exhausted, they were small injuries but they were plenty, it must have worn on you." His hand spreads over the small of your back, "I meant what I said before." On his lap it's much easier for him to rest his head against your chest, you feel his hair tickling the side of your neck as he does.

"I enjoy caring for you, perhaps it's self serving, but please allow me the pleasure of it more often."

"I wasn't sure-" You flush at the sudden tenderness, it wasn't brand new, nor was it unwelcome, but it was still fresh, still took getting used to. "I didn't want to burden you."

"Be sure now." He picks his head up, "you're more than asset to hinder or help me me.... and certainly more than a friend." He spares a glance down to your hand, where it has wrapped around his bicep. "Don't be modest, when you ask for me, I'm happy to go to you. If I can bring you any comfort on the road ahead, then I'd be honored to."

"Thank you, Halsin." You rest your hand on the side of his neck and he hums at the feeling, glancing between your bodies then back to your face.

"You don't need to thank me," His hand slides along the divot of your spine, a soft touch made firm by the rough skin of his palms, "just come to me, whenever you need, even when you don't need to, but only want to. I do miss you after our nights together. I'd take comfort in knowing you feel the same."

"I do.." You nod, "I just hate to steal you away when the others-"

"Steal me away all you like," He laughs, "Gods, that sounds heavenly. I'm sure the others can manage a few hours." He kisses you for the first time that day. Which wasn't unusual, often he waited for more private moments to voice and show his affections, it was welcome and warm and you were glad to be on the receiving end of his affections.

"And knowing you feel the same is all the better." He wraps his arms around you in a bear hug perfectly fitting of the man giving it.

"I'm grateful to have spent this time enjoying you." He takes a deep breath, like he's trying to get as much of your scent as possible.

"Can we stay for a bit? Like this?" You pull back and pin away a stray strand of his hair, his chest huffs with a light airy chuckle as he nods.

"Of course, but you'll have to tear me away when you're done. I fear I won't want to go anywhere once I've settled down with you on me like this."

He resumes his bear hugging and despite the tightness of the hug, and the closeness of your bodies you don't feel cramped at all.

[peachhcs]

it’s a forever kind of thing

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

while in san jose, samy and will realize they can’t stay away from each other and all it takes is a dinner out to get them back together

6k words

warnings: 18+!!, smut (but like halfway through), making out, hickeys, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex (she’s on the pill), please read at your own risk!

GUYS! it’s here!! the long awaited fic where samy and will get back together! instead of breaking it into two, i made it one long fic, so halfway through is when they have sex, so if you don’t wanna read that u can skip over it, but i decided to just put it all in one. this took me forever to write lowkey bc i never knew how to write it, but i like how this came out so i hope you guys too!! yay!! get excited for happy will and samy coming your way again!

au masterlist

the san jose heat wasn't a joke. any room in the apartment felt like it was 100° and it didn't help that they were trying to unpack boxes and build things in the high temperatures. samy was on the floor trying to figure out how to put together a shelf while also wiping the beads of sweat running down her forehead every five seconds. even the five different box fans scattered around the apartment didn't do anyone justice.

somewhere further in was will helping his mom put the bed together while grace did her best to hang frames in one of the hallways. the four of them were working hard, but the heat was quickly getting to everyone and what should've been a four hour job turned into almost six hours by now.

"what the fuck," samy mumbled to herself, eyes bouncing between the directions and the pieces of wood that definitely didn't fit together even though they were supposed to.

will should've recruited her brothers to fly over since they were way better at building things than she could ever be. whatever the directions were trying to tell her were not making any sense.

she was really tempted to call luke and bug him about it, but a different voice startled her a bit before she even pulled her phone out.

will's gaze stuck to hers where he stood in the doorway, "need help?"

samy met his eyes, flushing under his stare and sweaty figure, "uh..i mean..i think i'm doing it right but for some reason it doesn't look like it," she admitted truthfully.

will took that as his cue to crouch down. samy slid him the paper and let him read it over incase she was just missing something entirely.

"well i think the first problem is that these aren't the same pieces in the picture," the blonde determined, eyes gazing at the wood.

"i fucking knew it! i knew they didn't go together!" the girl exclaimed in triumph because she'd been feeling stupid about that for thirty minutes.

"i don't need shelves anyway. they're stupid," will shrugged some while disregarding the paper onto the floor.

"yeah, just make your own or some shit," they shared a small laugh which was happening a lot more frequently since they got there.

things were..rocky still, but it wasn't as bad. they even sat next to each other on the plane even though neither of them really spoke. it was progress and that was what mattered anyway.

"i can't believe it's so hot. i feel like i'm dying," will slid further onto the ground where he spread himself out against the hardwood.

"you better get used to it. it's supposed to get even hotter next week," samy informed, slipping to will that she may have been looking at the weather for san jose for him

"ugh, don't tell me that. i'm not made for the heat," he pushed his curls away from his sweaty forehead, but samy sort of found the movement just the tiniest bit attractive.

both of their hair was way more frizzier than usual because of the crazy heat, but something about it made the brunette a bit weak in the knees seeing will like that.

"did you get the bed together at least?" the girl wondered, leaning back against her palms.

"mostly, yeah. mom's doing the finishing touch. i had to walk out of there before she like exploded at me," the hockey player laughed and then samy did too. they knew how colleen got because she always wanted everything to be perfect.

"hey, one bed down. that's a win."

"yeah, sure. it's a win if you don't count my mom snapping at me every five seconds," will rolled his eyes.

"the heat makes people cranky. i don't blame her. you're kind of hard to work with sometimes," samy shrugged and will's head snapped up.

"what does that mean?"

"i dunno. whatever you want it to mean," she hummed earning a playful groan from the boy beside her. she managed a small smile, lifting her gaze to the rest of the apartment.

the four of them got most of it decorated and it was actually coming out really well. it screamed will and samy knew it was because almost all the ideas were taken from the pinterest board she made for this exact occasion.

most of the apartment was thanks to samy. colleen always said she had an eye for designing.

the girl's gaze landed on a picture frame stuck up on a shelf that did get put together and hung up. she stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out who was in the photo because she'd never seen it before. it wasn't until a minute later that she realized it was a picture of her and will.

they looked a bit young. 17 or so? samy was in her high school soccer uniform with a large medal hanging off her neck and will hanging off her side. they had big, bright smiles across their lips and both of them held the number 1 on the fingers for the photo. samy had no clue when or who took that photo, but it brought another smile to her lips.

"who took that photo of us?" she let the question slip out. will finally sat back up, trying to see what photo was being asked about.

"the one up there?"

"yeah," samy pointed to the shelf.

"uh..i think my mom took it. you'd just won the state championship for your last high school game," will explained the backstory and suddenly, it all came back to the girl.

"samy!" the brunette spun around. she caught sight of her three brothers rushing towards her in pure excitement. luke got to her first as he picked her up and spun her around in a tight hold.

"i'm so proud of you, samy!" the curly-haired boy exclaimed.

"you did so great, squirt! congratulations!" jack and quinn hugged her next. samy beamed from ear to ear at all the praise while the emotions of her last high school game ever started coursing through her.

"you're a fucking state champion for the second year in a row! how fucking cool!" jack rambled on and said how there's gonna be competition on the mantle where their parents put their kids' most important trophies and medals.

samy sort of stopped listening to her brothers when she saw will pushing his way through with grace and his parents in tow. she sort of shoved jack away as she rushed to will. he opened his arms wide and they met in the middle win a similar hug that luke gave her.

"i'm so, so proud of you, hughesy," will hummed into her shoulder.

"i'm so glad you came," the girl grinned some more.

"i want a picture!" colleen said, her phone already out. will let samy go as he shuffled to her side. she leaned her head into him until their heads touched and then she stuck up her pointer finger to signal as number 1.

she must've been so caught up in the moment that samy forgot the picture was even taken. the memory made her smile because she had all of her important people at that game and that meant so much to her.

"wow, that feels so long ago," samy finally spoke again, bringing her knees to her chest.

"yeah, i know. we were so..oblivious back then," will let the words slip from his mouth as he watched the girl's reaction.

her body tensed up a bit because she knew what he was talking about—so oblivious to the feelings they had for each other and what was to come out of that and where it would lead them.

"yeah. we were," the brunette hummed out.

she thought about the conversation with gabe and ryan from last week. she knew that everything they said was true, she just hadn't chosen to believe it quite yet. plus, what if she was scared of what her heart was trying to tell her?

obviously, it had something to say if she was sitting in san jose helping her ex decorate his new apartment even after he broke her heart and she was supposed to hate him for it. where was the hate when they sat inches apart in the living room without a couch all while reminiscing on their younger years?

"when do you start preseason?" will changed the subject and samy refocused her attention on him.

"next week," the girl beamed a bit. she was excited for the new season knowing a national title was definitely in their future this year.

"wow, that's soon."

"i suppose so, yeah. when do you start?"

"next week," will said and it was hard to believe this whole nhl thing was actually happening.

it didn't even seem like a reality when they were kids and now will was living out his dream of playing for an nhl team.

"i don't know if i've said this..but.i am proud of you. really proud. you're gonna do great here," the air in the room shifted a bit. it felt bittersweet hearing samy say those things after will basically pushed her out of his life.

she'd always support him no matter what.

the boy's gaze softened out as he ducked his eyes, "thanks, samy. that means a lot coming from you."

"you really do deserve all of this. you've worked really hard for it," she nodded as if she was affirming her words.

will blushed, but he didn't do anything to hide it, "thanks for coming. i-i know things haven't been...and i know i can't keep saying it, but i really am sorry for hurting you. i thought i was saving you from hurt, but i did the opposite."

"thank you for saying that. i..i don't really know what our relationship will be or if it ever will go back to how it was before this, but..i'm willing to try," the two shared a smile.

"i know this is probably gonna be a crazy ask, but..since we only have one more night until you leave tomorrow, would you wanna..like..get dinner? just the two of us?" will dared to ask because he'd regret it more if he didn't ask and lose his chance at proving himself to her.

this time it was samy's turn to blush, "are you asking me on a date?"

"do you want it to be a date?" they held each other's gazes for a moment before samy slowly nodded.

"yeah, let's go to dinner together," she smiled and so did will.

"really?"

"yeah, i think it'd be fun."

so it was settled. will and samy were going on a date that could potentially fix everything between them or be a total shit show. they both secretly hoped for the former.

—

they decided on 7. samy came out of the guest room in a dress marcie packed away for her when she told her friend she was flying to san jose with will. marcie claimed it would be "this exact occasion" meaning the girl was also hoping they'd make up their differences on this trip.

it wasn't anything special. it went down to her ankles in a soft pink with embroidered roses down each side of the dress. samy paired it with some sandal wedges and maybe her hand shook she did her makeup, but that didn't matter because this felt like another grace period.

if it went well, then..who knows. if it went horribly, they'd never talk about it again and at least samy was leaving so they wouldn't have to face the awkwardness too much. again, both of them hoped for the former.

grace saw samy first when she walked into the kitchen. the older girl's expression slipped into a smirk as she nudged her brother's arm who's gaze wasn't on samy. however, when he did see the girl for the first time, his eyes were the size of the moon and he couldn't look away.

"too much?" samy wondered nervously. she didn't know how dressy they were getting, but based on will's button down and dress shorts, she decided it was the right option.

"no, no. you look..you look great," will gulped while grace didn't stop her little snicker.

"oh wow, what's the occasion?" colleen came into the room, a look of surprise on her features seeing will and samy so dressed up.

"we're going for dinner," the blonde explained to his mom.

"the two of you?" the older woman's eyebrows raised

"yeah. it won't be long," will said.

the look on colleen's face said everything she didn't except a little, "have fun then."

the two managed small smiles as will led samy out of the apartment. grace and colleen didn't say anything until the door closed and gentle smiles fell on their lips.

"i really hope it works out between them," mrs. smith hummed.

"oh, i think it will. he won't let her go again," grace said.

will and samy started up the street where they'd have to walk a few blocks to the restaurant they decided on. they didn't say much, but the silence was comforting. it felt like a first date all over again except they knew everything about one another already.

"this is weird, but like in a good way," samy finally spoke first.

will managed a light laugh, "what does that mean?"

"like..weird i didn't think i'd ever agree to this, but i'm glad i did?" it was hard to put into words for samy.

her heart told her one thing while her head said something completely different.

"well, i hope you're still glad by the end of the night," will said, their gazes meeting briefly.

samy thought he looked better than ever. his curls were the perfect amount of curl and whatever the dev camp did to him worked some wonders because..wow. not that samy could ever peel her eyes off him, she really couldn't now.

they made it the restaurant and samy got another perfect excuse to stare at will when he sat down across from her at their little table in a corner.

"this okay?" will wondered, meaning there they'd been sat.

"it's perfect. i like how cozy it feels," the brunette smiled. will did too because he knew how much samy liked the corner tables because he also knew she felt too open when they sat in the middle of the room.

they spent a bit of time looking over the menu when the waiter came over. she smiled at the two, "i really love your dress. it's beautiful," she said to samy.

"oh, thank you. i appreciate that," the younger girl beamed.

after ordering, samy and will got into a bit of small talk that slowly shifted into regular talk that shifted into what felt like how they used to talk before things happened.

"you ever think about what you'd do if you got injured or something and you couldn't play anymore and had to retire?" samy stirred her straw around her cup.

"yeah, all the time. that actually might be me and my parents biggest worry," will laughed lightly.

"what would you do?"

"probably be really sad for awhile, but i'd get better and try to find another hobby i could take on," the blonde shrugged.

"i remember when we were kids you always said you'd become a coach if you couldn't ever skate anymore," samy said softly and will's own expression softened at the idea of samy remembering that.

"i really can't picture my life without hockey," they shared a laugh.

"yeah that sounds like you. you're all in, but i get it. hockey's my family's whole life. i can't imagine life without it either," the soccer player hummed.

"i just know i'd be so upset if the one thing i dedicate my life to can't happen anymore. it'd honestly make me have an identity crisis," will frowned.

"i kind of feel the same way about soccer. i don't really know who i am outside of the sports i've grown up playing," samy laughed but more as to hide the small pain she felt at the idea of really not knowing who she was.

"well, i think you're really generous. you have a big heart and you don't ever back down from anything. you're great with kids and your love for everyone you meet is super contagious," will didn't miss a beat with that leaving the girl across from him in surprise.

her cheeks flushed an embarrassing red, "you're just saying that."

"i'm not. you're probably one of the best people i know."

the look in will's eyes told samy how serious he was being. she just disregarded his comments despite the pounding in her chest and her hot cheeks.

the two spent the entire rest of dinner lost in conversation. both of their hearts felt full when they made it back outside where the temperature finally felt a few degrees cooler.

"this was a lot of fun. i really enjoyed it," samy said to will, a deep, loving smile on her lips.

"i'm glad you had fun. i did too," the boy smiled back.

they stood in a beat of silence trying to figure out what the next move was. tension filled the air, but not an angry one that's been there for awhile. this tension was different. it was thick, but heavy with what seemed like love and lust.

"would it be crazy if i kissed you?" will's voice was small and a bit shaky when he asked.

his eyes were everywhere on the girl in front of him because he'd been inching touch her since she walked out in the dress clinging to her body. actually, he'd been thinking about this since last week when they were at his going away party.

"no. i don't think so," samy inched herself closer to the blonde. her eyes were also everywhere and her breath hitched when he laid a hand on her lip.

will looked at her for one last reassuring look that he could go all in. when samy nodded he took that opportunity. his lips were hard against hers and so was his hand on her hip.

they molded into one another like they never spent time apart. samy's hands found their respective places on will's chest and in his hair at the back of his head.

their steady breathing turned into heavy pants when they pulled away for a second. big smiles danced on both of their lips at the feeling of being pressed up against one another because it was a feeling they missed a lot.

"is this.." will's voice faded off because he didn't quite know what he was asking.

"it's okay. more than okay," samy nodded eagerly.

"maybe we should go back to my place?" the boy said because they were still on the sidewalk and people were walking by.

"yeah, right. of course," the girl nodded and they started back down the sidewalk to will's apartment.

the smiles on their lips were evident and they grew even bigger when their fingers slowly intertwined with one another. earlier samy's heart and head were in different places making her feel lost. right now, they were in the exact same place and she knew exactly what she was feeling: love.

because she'd always love will. even after he broke her heart. even after he did everything to prove to her he regretted everything he did. she loved him through and through and samy knew he felt the exact same way about her.

of course, that didn't mean her guard was broken down completely. there was still a lot of cracks to be repaired and that only came with time and more trust.

right now, though, none of that mattered when samy stumbled back into the apartment with will. it was dark since grace and mrs. smith headed back to the hotel room for the night because maybe they both knew the date would lead to something more.

will's lips were back on samy's as soon as the door was closed. he pushed her up against the hardwood as she reciprocated his actions, kissing his lips hard and running her hands through his now messy curls.

they were fully making out—hungry for each other's lips because they'd been apart for so long. samy's hands fumbled with the buttons of will's shirt in a desperate attempt to peel it off of him.

"i really missed you," will mumbled against her lips between the kissing. he felt the girl smile.

"i missed you too," she said as the blonde pulled her closer against his body.

his boner pressed against her lower stomach and it sent butterflies through the girl, especially when will's one hand moved to grab her ass. a noise escaped her lips right into will's mouth.

"is this okay?" the blonde asked, worried he was moving too fast.

"yes, it's perfect," samy started becoming breathless again. she pushed the rest of his shirt down his arms, exposing his entire torso. her eyes racked down his toned body, gripping slightly on the muscled arms.

"they've been working you good," the girl laughed a little making will blush.

"you think so?" he grinned, always loving samy's praise.

"mhm," her words got lost in her throat when she pulled the boy back to her lips.

they made out a bit longer until will's lips dropped further down. he kissed down her neck until getting to her collarbone and the top of her breasts. the blonde began sucking lightly and little moans finally escaped samy's lips at the feeling. her head hit the door, her grip hard on will's arms.

"fuck, will," samy moaned out, her sounds going straight to his dick still throbbing in his pants.

"missed this so much," the boy's voice was muffled against her skin. she laughed, tugging his curls which in turn made will suck harder.

"you're gonna get me in trouble with these," samy said knowing all the girls in the locker room would see them next week. all will did was shrug.

"good. they'll know who they came from," he looked up for a second and the look in his eyes held a certain type of possession in them.

"can i at least return the favor?" she's been dying to have her mouth on will's body since she saw those pictures of him at the bauer combine a few months ago.

"just keep them low so no one sees them," will said, standing back up with a little smirk on his face.

they switched positions so will was against the door and samy didn't waste any time placing her lips halfway down his stomach. immediately, will's head was against the door with his hands gripping the girl's arms. he really did miss her lips on him like this.

"jesus christ," he mumbled lowly, eyes closing in pleasure.

the girl's lips nipped and sucked every part of his skin. sometimes she'd give a little bite and will would have to restrain himself from tugging her hair. when she moved further down closer to his waistband the blonde nearly saw stars.

she didn't even have to touch him and he was falling apart for her. "oh, samy. fuck," his moans filled her with pride because she knew no one else could make will feel like this just from some little hickeys.

she stood back up and will's lust-filled gaze stuck to her. their lips met again in a more passionate kiss where will led her to the bedroom since the living room still had no couch. samy left her shoes and followed the blonde to the bed where she had one thing in her mind.

she went for his pants, tugging them down his legs and leaving him in just his underwear. will looked up at her with slightly heavy pants, his heart pounding but not because he was nervous. samy's eyes were on the bulge in his underwear, reaching forward to wrap her hand around it. will jumped from her delicate touch, jaw clenching.

he was hot and heavy and samy knew he was already ready for her. she liked how hard will always got just from making out where she barely even touched him.

"s-samy, please," will got out, desperate for anything more than her stroking him. his desperate tone made the brunette smile as she finally took him out of his underwear.

he was red all over and samy's mouth watered in anticipation. she leaned herself down, sticking her tongue out to slowly lick a stripe from the bottom up. will's hips immediately stuttered on the first touch.

"fuck."

samy grabbed ahold of him with her hand, her thumb swiping over the sensitive tip before plunging back down his length. will groaned out, gripping the bedsheets while his stomach clenched multiple times. finally, her mouth locked around him, going in deeper than ever making the blonde nearly scream.

"shit. shit," will instinctively bucked his hips up where samy placed one hand down so he couldn't move.

"gotta stay still, pretty boy," the nickname left her lips faster than she could stop it. it was music to will's ears though because he's missed hearing her call him that.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. feels so good," he mumbled out a bit incoherently. any straight thought was quickly leaving the hockey player's brain while the pleasure took over.

just for that, samy sucked him harder, using her hand to pump the part she couldn't fit in her mouth. will was on cloud 9. his head pushed back into the pillow while he did his best to keep himself from bucking up, but each little suck and scrape on his cock was making it harder and harder for him to stay still.

"fuck—i'm not gonna last. gonna make me cum," will got out when he forced his gaze back on the girl below him. the sight was to die for. samy was on her knees still in her dress, but her tits were practically spilling out of it along with the hickeys scattered across her chest.

she figured will wouldn't last long based on the way he kept twitching in her mouth. she didn't blame him though because her underwear were soaked all the way through at the sound of him begging to cum.

"uh, samy. fuck— please. wanna cum," his words jumbled together as his stomach clenched and the feeling continued building.

"come for me, will. it's okay," samy finally said and will let go. his hips bucked up, uncontrollable moans escaping his lips as he released his load into her mouth.

she took it all, swallowing it down until he was finished. she let go with a pop and will's dick fell back onto his stomach twitching still. samy grinned at him.

"f-fuck. i haven't..done that in so long," the blonde mumbled meaning he hasn't done anything with anyone since they broke up.

he pulled her down on top of him, going for her lips again where he could taste himself on her and some of her strawberry lipgloss. in between the kissing, will's fingers found the little zipper on the back of the dress. he slowly pulled it down where samy helped by taking her arms out of the straps and pushing it the rest of the way down her body until it pooled at her legs.

the hockey player's gaze glued itself to the matching set samy sported. her pretty pink lacey bra and hot pink thong matched her dress perfectly and will swore he felt his cock harden all over again.

"what is this?" will mumbled, eyes still glued to the underwear.

"what? my underwear?" samy laughed lightly.

"you're gonna fucking kill me," the blonde said making the brunette smile. she let will flip them over so she was on the bed now. he stared down at her, eyes filled with lust and love.

"gonna make you feel so good," he said with one finger hooking into the waistband of her thong.

"you better keep your word," samy teased him.

will's lips were on her a second later. he started just below her chest, kissing down her stomach in slightly wet kisses until he reached the waistband. he pushed the band aside, eyes glowing at the site of samy's already wet pussy.

"jesus. i haven't even done anything and you're this wet already?" his eyes briefly found hers and all samy could do was shrug.

"your moans were hot. what can i say?" as much as will tried to show his dominance, the twitch in his cock at her words said everything about how much control samy had no matter what.

will didn't waste another second attaching his lips. his grip was hard on her thighs as his tongue slowly explored her insides. her hands flew to his hair where she pulled and tugged hard when will found the perfect spots.

"mmm, fuck will. just like that," samy nodded, eyes closed and back arching off the bed the deeper he got.

"fuck you taste so good," the blonde said. he could do this forever if he could because there was no better taste or feeling than his girl and the way she harshly tugged at his curls.

her little moans and whimpers started getting to him again. will moved his hips against the mattress, desperate to find some relief in his already aching cock while he continued his attack on samy's beautiful pussy.

"will, i'm gonna cum," samy got out, that feeling quick to snap in her stomach because she too hasn't felt this in so long, so she wasn't gonna last at all.

"that's it, pretty girl. come for me," will encouraged and samy did just that.

she released right onto him in a loud moan, glad that they had the apartment all to themselves. when she was finished she met will's gaze where he licked his lips clean and beamed up at her.

"you're actually amazing," he hummed earning a little eye roll from the girl. she tugged him up to kiss his lips, also tasting herself on him. will pulled at her hips, their bodies pressing together until samy flipped them over again. she straddled his lap, the hockey player gazing up at her in a loopy grin.

"wanna fuck you," she said, hands running down his torso. he nodded, hands eagerly squeezing her thighs.

"yes, please. want you to ride me. haven't seen you on top in months," will was a mess making samy smile. she leaned back to stroke will's cock again, getting it ready for her.

"wait, fuck. i don't have any condoms," the blonde quickly realized that in the moving process he didn't buy any and he threw away the ones he had before so his mom didn't see them.

"it's okay. i'm on the pill and i trust you," samy said like it wasn't a big deal but will's eyes widened.

"a-are you sure?" he's dreamed about having sex without a condom, but he didn't think that would happen for another year or two.

"positive. do you trust me?" samy asked and the boy quickly nodded.

"of course i do. i-i just.." his voice faded.

"we don't have to if you're not comfortable. i was just offering it," samy noticed his shift, but will shook his head.

"no, no. i want to. i just.." his face blushed a hot red, "i probably won't last long at all," it felt embarrassing to say, but samy only smiled.

"it's okay. honestly, that's flattering of you to say," they shared a laugh and she felt will relax a bit more underneath her.

"as long as you're sure, i'm sure," will nodded more firmly this time.

the brunette giggled as she pushed her thong aside and started lining will up with her entrance. he slipped in almost immediately and both of their eyes closed at the feeling. he stretched her out, the pleasure outweighing the pain and will's hands carefully gripped samy's hips in an attempt to keep his hips still until he was all the way in.

"oh god. holy fuck," he stuttered, his cock already throbbing for a release.

samy smiled, carefully moving her hips when she felt ready. the pace started slow until will started matching her pace with little thrusts of her hips. they began moving at a more steady pace, the only sounds in the room were their skin slapping together.

"fuck, yeah. feels so good, will," samy moaned out, hands sprawled across his chest for leverage.

"you're so beautiful," the boy mumbled, eyes roaming everywhere across her body.

his hands grabbed handfuls of her ass, moaning out at the feeling of her in his hold. little beads of sweat littered their bodies and it wasn't just because of the 100° temperatures anymore.

"fuck samy. 'm so close. god, you're so beautiful. i love you. i love you," will's words jumbled together again into incoherent thoughts and sentences. samy blushed hearing him say i love you.

"gonna come for me will?" she said between her own pants.

"yeah, gonna cum. gonna cum so hard," he continued.

"me too, pretty boy. you feel so good," samy threw her head back. the way will's cock continuously pierced her open had her falling apart on top of him. the feeling she was familiar with built up in her stomach until finally snapping when will thrusted particularly hard.

she moaned out, her hips stuttering and her orgasm taking over. the feeling of her clenching around his length also sent will over the edge.

he thrusted up, spilling his load inside of her, more uncontrollable moans leaving his lips and his head digging into the pillow.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. oh, fuck," he thrusted one more time into her, the last few drops leaving his now throbbing cock. samy fell onto the bed beside him, their chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths.

"that was.."

"really great," will finished her sentence. they laid there staring at the ceiling for a few more moments until the blonde shifted his gaze over to her.

he suddenly worried what this meant now. especially because samy was leaving tomorrow to go back to michigan. she felt his gaze on her, so she turned her body into him, eyes on him as well.

"so.." the boy became shy, his voice fading off in fear that if he asked, samy would say that this was a one time thing and she didn't want him back after all.

"so.." she copied his tone, her finger tracing his shoulder.

"what now?" he dared to ask.

"you said you love me?" samy said, remembering will's confession through his pleasure a few minutes ago. she watched his cheeks heat up again, but he didn't look away.

"i do. i mean i always have," the blonde admitted because it was true. he loved the girl beside him a whole, whole lot.

"you really hurt me," samy stared at his arm, will's smile disappearing into a frown.

"i know," their voices were quiet now.

"it's not gonna be all perfect like it was before all of this happened, you know," she continued.

"i know."

"it's gonna take awhile for me to completely trust you again."

"i know."

samy met his gaze again. his eyes had never left hers and she could see the love hiding within them the more she stared at him.

"i love you, too, will," their smiles slowly started returning.

"i promise i won't hurt you. i can't lose you again and i know that now," will shifted so they laid facing each other. he reached his hand out to brush some hair away from her face.

"you never lost me. i was always there," samy smiled a little and will beamed, pulling her closer to him so they were nearly chest to chest.

"i wish you weren't leaving tomorrow," the sadness crept back in knowing they could've had so much more time.

"me neither, but maybe i can make something happen to fly out for your first game," the girl grinned, trying to keep the mood light.

"i'd really love that," will returned her contagious smile.

they spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other's arms, holding onto all the time they had left until samy left for michigan and their long distance continued. this time, samy definitely knew her heart and head were on the same page because each of them were quiet in her mind as she fell asleep in will's hold.

[smolvenger]

The Baronet Seeks A Wife, Chapter One.

A Crimson Peak Multi-Part Fanfiction.

Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Arranged Marriage AU.

Summary: England in the 1890s. When your spirited sister, Charlotte, defies your family by running away from her arranged engagement to Sir Thomas Sharpe, you are the one who must keep your family from scandal and ruin...by taking her place as the baronet's bride.

Word Count: >7K words. You may want tea and scones as a repast as you read this.

Warnings: Angst, some hurt/comfort, and fluff at the end. I attempt to convey the period as accurately as I can bc if you don't like it or find it interesting why write it. Period accurate attitudes of gender and social class. Mentions and discussions of sex, but no smut (yet...let me just say...after Bridgerton season 3 episode four...I have *ideas* heheheheh). Brief mention of childbirth. The fear of domestic violence is mentioned, but not portrayed. Grammar and spelling mistakes. If I miss something and you see something that could be triggering that I didn't mention, then it is your responsibility to please please please tell me. I will take full accountability for how I portray marginalized groups and sensitive subject matter and make sure to better my writing and make sure affected parties are protected.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson @steasstuff @anukulee @kimi01985 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @giona45-5 @goddessgirl43

London, 1898.

“I won’t marry him!” your sister cried.

You have seen this scene plenty of times. You could recount it like a play production you had seen too much. You were sitting in the parlor, trying to read a book and rest your feet. But your mother and your older sister, Lottie, were on each other’s last nerves.

‘Lottie, you have to!” your mother insisted.

You found you couldn’t focus on the words. You only sat there in stillness, watching in silence. A maid walked by the door, her eyes flicking over to the scene, but then she kept walking down the hallway.

Your mother pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed as if in pain. 

Your older sister, Charlotte, was curling her fists on her side. The red dress, the new one father ordered for her at the shop, only made her seem angrier. She was literally burning with the fire of fury.

Mama let out a huff. Then she glared at Charlotte, her arms akimbo.

“Listen to me. Right. Now.” your mother began.

You felt bad for your mother. There was a lot on her mind. To have both daughters out in society at one time. They agreed it wasn’t fair for one daughter to go about having fun when the other couldn’t. Charlotte was older, so she was more experienced in being out in society. She made her debut it seemed ages ago. You recalled your own debut. You had your turn to wear white and curtsy before the queen before she dismissed you for the next girl. You were already beaming with excitement. Ready to enter the glittering, grown-up world of the London social season. Prepared to dine and dance in pretty dresses every April until August.

But every year, it seemed the bags under Charlotte’s eyes increased. Now years had passed since then. And mam still had two daughters who were still out. And unmarried.

Charlotte dreaded going from your country home to London for the warmer months.She hated the constant balls, parties, meals, picnics. She at least liked riding her horse in Hyde Park but loathed she couldn’t go faster. She would sneak out to smoke cigars. Bugs and reptiles fascinated her more than gossip. She scribbled down notes. She turned prickly if any man asked for a dance. She spoke boldly and even swore. She enjoyed the horse races and polo games and sports, but the art of feminine flirting was beyond her.

But your parents had plenty of money and two daughters. But only so much money could support so many seasons. And as the eldest, the pressure was on Charlotte. There was the occasional brave soul who proposed marriage to her. Only to face the inevitable, flat rejection.

So Mama and Papa took matters into their own hands.

Mama met enough people who networked her to cross paths with a single baronet. They porposed a marriage between him and Charlotte, to which he agreed. Your sister was engaged after a mere three meetings with the fellow. Not that you had a chance to meet him either. So no rejection. No proposal. A ring on Lottie’s finger forcibly placed on her like a child force-fed turnips to her mouth.

“Lottie, do you know how much that dress costs? The very one on your back? Every season, your father and I make sure you and your sister have new gowns so you may be presentable in public. That is what they demand- that eligible ladies always dress in fresh new clothes. So any gentleman will not scoff at you wearing yesterday’s rag. You may not like it- but this is for your future. For your family’s future.  May I remind you- You are the eldest. You must make a good match not only for your sake- but your sister’s future. If you marry well-then she will be set up to succeed. There are plenty of decent men with more than enough money to make you comfortable here. Every year, they ask to dance with you. Every year, at least one proposes. And every year, you say no. ”

Charlotte huffed, folding her arms.

‘I didn’t want to marry them. Any of them. I wouldn’t make them happy and they wound’t make me happy at all.”

Your mother glared down.

“You have had more than enough chances to secure yourself forever. Do you want to live at the mercy of your father’s charity all of your days? If he cut you off this minute and threw you out of the house, you would have nowhere to go, and no way to survive. Lottie, do you realize how many seasons you have had? Do you realize how much we must pay more and more for you both to be presentable when you are out? Do you realize how much this is costing us and yourself?” she scolded.

She caught her breath. Charlotte was breathing hard, and you could see glimmers of tears in her eyes. Mama stepped closer.

“Charlotte…you’re no figure of pity. Not yet. You have had plenty of chances- they still call you the Wild Rose of London. Your face won over dukes, earls-so many girls would have loved to be in your shoes!” she said softly.

Mama was right. Charlotte was considered the beauty of the family. When she made her debut, heads turned to look at her. Everyone, you included, thought she would make a match easily. After all, your father was in charge of a great business that made a lot of money. You were now part of the upper crust. So a pretty face, a decent family reptutation and a sizable dowry with her bold, vivacious character would have won someone’s heart. And in a way they did. The first man who proposed to Charlotte you thought was going to be like shooting a sitting duck.

Even though “spinsterhood” did nothing to dampen  your sister’s face,you were all proven wrong. Very, very wrong. 

Lottie slouched as much as she could in her gown and frowned. A habit she never abandoned as a child.

“Your father had to take action. You will be a part of the esteemed Sharpe baronacy and he will reap the monetary benefits. He is a nice man, pleasant, charming, and he will take care of-”

“So am I nothing more than a thing you auction off at a bazaar? Not a person with a heart? With feelings?” Lottie combated.

“We were going to be driven at this rate to ill repute, and financial ruin all because you wouldn’t marry!” your mother argued.

“Then why not let me wear an old dress?” Lottie shot back. “Or have me not do a season! Let me remain a spinster and paddle my own canoe!” 

“Sir Sharpe will take care of you. He promised it!” Mama assured.

“Being stuffy old Lady Sharpe and wasting my life in balls and parties is going to drive me to insanity! An arranged marriage- mama, it’s practically medieval!” Lottie shouted.

Your mother folded her hands.

“Your father has set it in stone. There is no point in this conversation. You are going to marry Sir Thomas Sharpe, and that is final!”

Your sister jumped up. She stormed off, slamming the door shut childishly as she huffed off to her room.

Your mother turned to you. You sat in your own blue tea gown, not expecting company. For a night of no events in the London season was a special treat. All of the picnics, lunch parties, park trips, operas, theatre, and balls were fun- but back to back, it was exhausting. But hearing your mother and sister yell at each other was ten times worse than the exhaustion. 

You stood up.

“Am I….a bad mother?” she asked. You saw tears in her eyes too.

You put a hand on her shoulder, a fine, matronly gown of dark green brocade. You offered her a handkerchief. 

“I only think you are a desperate mother put into a difficult situation.”

“She won’t listen to me. Much less your father…she only listens to you anymore. I hate we must do this…and I hate myself,” she sniffled. 

You patted her shoulder.

“Mama, let me speak with her. Let me help patch things up. Make her happy,” you offered.

She nodded. You exited the library, walking up the stairs to Lottie’s bedroom. The odd servant paused in their dusting to curtsy at you. You wold give them a nod and a smile, before you continued. Walking past vases of daffodils and over velvet rugs, you found the door locked shut. Crying coming from inside.

You knocked on the door.

“Go away, papa!” she fussed.

“Lottie, it’s not papa, it’s me!” you assured her.

Your sister went over and opened the door, letting you in and shutting it after you entered. With it’s wine red wallpaper, the place seemed to be dark as the sun was dipping outside. Her desk empty of any papers and her hat set on top. Her colllections of newspapers piled on one chair near her parasol. The drawer where she hid her cigars was kept with a lock and a key she dared not tell even you.

“Lottie…I’m so sorry you have to do this, and how miserable it makes you…it sounds like a nightmare,” you admitted.

You could see tears streaming down her face.

“Do you remember when I was eleven and asked mama and papa for a pet snake? They know how much I love snakes- they’d give me little toy snakes. I wanted a real one. I’d call her Cleopatra for the irony of it. But they said no. Every year I asked and they kept saying no.would always say no. They try….but they can’t love me, or understand me. And I keep trying to please them…and I keep failing and now…they’re throwing…”

She sat on the bed and began to cry. And you hugged her.

“Here….here…” you said. “My poor girl, my poor Lottie!” you cooed. 

“I want to go places. Have adventures and jolly, capital times.  I want to run, and explore and see things! Not be stuffy old Lady Sharpe in some stupid house having babies until I’m killed from it!” she mourned.

She shoved aside her journal and laid down on her bed. Tears streaming her face.

“It’s what you deserve…Lottie. A life like that! But now,  we need to think of what we can do and not what we can’t do,” you suggested.

You paused, thinking for a second. You leaned closer as she turned away. A gentle hand on her side.

“Sir Sharpe…you’ve met him, haven’t you? What is he like?” you asked.

“He talks about his stupid inventions all day,” she muttered from her side. “And he won’t answer anything about what his dead sister was like or what was in that old mansion.”

There were only three things you knew about Sir Sharpe as of this morning. He was a baronet. He grew up in a mansion called Allerdale Hall. He lost an older sister. But that was it. Now thanks to Lottie, the sum rallied up to four.

You leaned closer, more mischief in your voice. You hushed to a whisper.

“What does he even look like? Perhaps he’s at least handsome! Maybe at least…on your wedding night…” 

Lottie turned over, wrinkling her nose. 

“I’m sorry, YN, but he’s ugly! He has a big forehead, and big ears, and a big old nose!” she cried. Her voice far too loud for the question you asked.

She grabbed her pillow and hugged it around her.

“Don’t get me started on my marital duties. I could retch at the thought of it. If Sir Sharpe even thinks of going to bed with me, I’ll box his big ears off!” she decalred.

Part of you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Even Lottie’s own pretty, pink mouth was curved up in a small smile at her own words.

“Practice on that pillow!” you dared.

She hit the pillow again and again.

“This I’ll give Sir Sharpe and -this! I’ll give Sir Sharpe!”

She reached over and got her parasol and gave it a few more good whacks. Feathers were starting to burst out from it and litter the floor.

“Heavens, at this rate you’d have killed him!” you commented. 

“He would have earned it!” she replied.

‘“Then you’ll be a criminal and I’d have to bail you out of prison!” you replied.

“Oh no! Then I guess we must be outlaws and run off and live like Robin Hood and the rest! Better than listening to Mrs. Mean drone on about governesses!”

Both of you burst into laughter. The Means lived up to their name and every reception they found a new group of people to complain about. You both heard it all and had to silently look at each other to promise to only laugh at them when it was done.

You both laughed, smilng bright. How you missed the easy days of your younger years. You could play about and get in and out of trouble. You and your sister knew where to strike to hurt each other, but couldn’t live without the other. You fought as intensely as you played. You did everything side by side. You took her hand and hugged her again, even though she was still sniffling.

Lottie sagged her shoulders. Her hold on the pillow loosening.

“But…I’m unhappy. I wake up every day with this and I’m miserable. Like I can’t get out.” she sighed.

“Think of this….” you reasoned. “I hear husbands are easier to manage and persuade then fathers! Once you have money and you’re not under their thumb, you can go about as you want and do what you want! Idon’t think Sir Sharpe would stop you….”

You paused. A horrified shiver ran through you.

“Not that I…know much about him. Do you think he….did he ever…ever…hurt you?” you asked.

She shook her head.

“No, he hasn’t been less than gentlemanly. And he wouldn’t hurt me in any way after we’re married, I’m sure.” she replied.

You both sat on the bed and held hands.

“Then don’t be afraid, Lottie…maybe marriage isn’t a prison, but your key to freedom! Once you’re a married woman, you can do whatever you want and Sir Sharpe won’t stop you. And if he does anything, tell me. And I’ll box his ears!” you replied.

Lottie’s tears were drying in trails down her cheeks. Yet she smiled in spite of herself. Then you hugged one last time.

“I should ring for some cakes and mint tea from Anne! That will cheer you up!” you said.

As you rang the bell for them. Anne, one of your maids, hurried up. She took the order and promptly left. She returned with a tray in only ten minutes. You both relaxed on chairs as the tray balanced on a mahogany table.

Turning, you saw Lottie write about in her journal.

“Oh, croissants! My favorites,” Lottie cooed. She picked up one and began to dig in.

“I’m just glad you have thing that make you happy…I just want you to be happy, Lottie,” you said.

The pastry returned to her plate.

“And…YN…”

Her mouth opened as if to speak. Then she stopped. She reached over and held your cheek. Studying you carefully, as if you were a piece of art. A work she could only admire in person once before she had to leave. Something she had to commit to memory. There was a sad smile on her face.

There was a sad smile on her face.

“I want you to be happy too…”

She kissed your forehead and you smiled. As she helped herself to a big slice of strawberry cake. Her eyes were tired, crinkly.

“I think Lady Charlotte Sharpe has a ring to it. Like the heroine of a book!” you said.

Charlotte turned to face the window. The sun melting down and the sky promising night.

“But this isn’t a book, this is reality…” she responded.

She looked at you and then at the ring on her finger. The engagement ring already commissioned. Costly and pretty, but useless and ominous on Lottie’s hand.

“I think you would have liked him...” she said.

“Sir Sharpe will be nice to have as a brother,” you replied.

She looked at you. But said nothing as she nibbled on her croissant. As the tray was partially emptied, you excused yourself. But Lottie caught your arm. You saw her lip quiver. She leaned closer, her voice quiet. And Lottie was not a person who liked to be quiet. 

“I’ll always remember that your words. That we must do what we can and not dwell on what we can’t. Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for the tea, too.”

By dinner time, she was quiet. She dressed nicely and ate modestly. Then went to bed without a word to you.  As you went back up to change for bed. How unlike her! Your sister was chattiest at night! But you but shrugged it off. She was probably just exhausted. London’s balls lasted from night until six in the morning and you would be lying if you said they didn’t take a toll on you too. And you would need some rest if there were to be callers, a garden party, and maybe a horse ride in the park  the next day.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁

When you awoke the next morning, the sunlight streamed like melten butter into your room. Outside, it was another lovely day in May. People were already tittering about the Ascot opening later this month.

Your maid helped you into your day outfit of a white lace skirt and a blue skirt with flowers patterned with silk. You only hoped Lottie had improved. Before breakfast, you would check.

You knocked on her door.

“Lottie! Good morning!”

No reply.

“The chef is making us bacon! It’s going to be delicious!”

No response. 

You beat your fists against the door.

Nothing. And she was a light sleeper.

“Lottie?” you called out louder.

You realized the door was unlocked and opened easily.

She was gone. Servants followed you inside. Her bed wasn’t made, there was no sign of her.

“Is she in the garden? Is she riding in Hyde park this early? ” you asked Anne. But the maid shook her head.

Then, to your shock, you saw there was a piece of paper on it. And a ring. Coming closer, you saw it was her engagement ring.

You felt the world pause as you read her handwriting.

“Hello everyone,

You need not fear, for I am not hurt or seduced by some scoundrel.

I cannot be Sir Sharpe’s wife.

I love all of you. But I cannot do this. This is not what I want for my life.

I shall be safe, do not worry.

But do not try to reach me for some time.

All of my love.

Charlotte Y/L/N.”

Breath knocked out of you. You stood frozen. You hardly heard your parents rushing in. You didn’t feel your father snatching the letter from your hands. Looking down, they were still in the air and shaking.

Your mother began to sob.

All of your plans were canceled. A private detective was hired and Charlotte’s lady’s maid was fired for permitting this. Though the sobbing maid insisted she didn’t know where Charlotte went. All day long, people scurried about in a panic. 

You felt tears well up in your own eyes. Alone in your room, it was your turn to burst into crying.  It was already as if your dear sister was already dead.

You recalled the letter said she was unharmed. She wasn’t about to be left pregnant with some scoundrel’s bastard. She hadn’t…taken her own life and for her to return only as a corpse. As far as you knew, no news meant she was alive and safe. That would have destroyed you. Taking hope in that, you went back to put on a brave face to your family.

There was the odd caller in the afternoon. But their noses were upturned. Knowing they would report anything and everything. The slight smiles on their faces as they looked about made you want to scream.

Why didn’t Charlotte think about this? The next day, your grief boiled to a silent rage. By running off and vanishing, it meant there was a scandal. And now society would all turn their faces away from you. They would frown and whisper and gossip. The unvirtuous daughter who ran off. And no one would want to go to your parties or dinners. No one would want to see you or associate with you. And no man would ever want to marry you, knowing you were the sister of the runaway spinster of a disgraced family.

That last part pained you. Not that you knew from Charlotte there was shame in being a spinster. But…you hoped to fall in love. Not just to marry a man of stability, to meet a wonderful, nice man who made your heart patter fast. To be kissed and receive valentines and dance and have him drop to his knees, begging for you. Just like in the fictional books you loved. 

But the days dragged by. The detective returned after a week and shook his head. And the hope for anything good in your future seemed more and more like a fiction itself.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁

You paced about in the gardens one afternoon. It was better to do something with your anxious energy. Two weeks and no sign where Lottie vanished. You sat by, hoping the coolness of the breeze drifting through flowers would calm you. But not even the loveliness of an English June could distract you.

Anne stepped forward and curtsied.

“Pardon me, Miss. But your father wants to have a word with you in private,” she announced.

She led you up, taking you to Papa’s study. It was a room in dark green, his favorite color. A few books lined up the walls and his desk was placed behind the window. Your father was staring outside when he turned around as you were brought in.

“Ah, sit down, my dear,” he requested.

You obeyed. Sitting on the wooden chair before his desk. Your father brought out a decanter of brandy and poured himself some in a little glass. You noticed it was a generous amount. Not that you would blame him.

He poured himself a second glass and offered it to you.

“I have some news with you, Y/N…” he began.

“Have they found her?” you asked with hope.

“No. And that is exactly why I have to tell you this…”

If there was no update, then what could it be? You wondered. You took the cup and held it in your hands. A little hesitant to drink it yet since it was still so bright in the day.  It didn’t feel right to drink such a spirit so early to you. Something was brewing- you just had to let him say it. 

“The engagement between your sister and Sir Sharpe it was…it is still and shall be beneficial. To us and to the Baronet. We must be respected by all sorts of society through connection to the baronacy. He needed the money- his own little toys wouldn’t be enough to sustain a gentleman’s life. And with Charlotte’s disappearance- you understand why we don’t have as many visitors as we do?”

“It’s a scandal, papa, I know.” you replied.

“But…we must return to society. We cannot show up defeated. We cannot let them beat us. We cannot become a laughingstock or a figure of pity.”

Where was he going with this? You held your tongue and folded your hands. The drink carefully balanced over your lap. He was only repeating everything you already knew.

“There is one way out that solves all our problems. Especially if at this point, Charlotte isn’t to be found…”

“We can’t give up on finding her, on making sure she is safe!” you insisted.

“We have more immediate matters..” he continued.

You raised the glass to your lips, taking only a sip. It burned down your throat onto your churning stomach. Your father looked directly into your eyes.

“ I have one daughter left who is out. But YN, I don’t think there are many gentleman who will want to associate with a ruined family. No gentleman will consider you marriage…But…”

“But?” you prompted.

“But there is one gentleman who doesn’t think so…” he continued.

“Who?” you asked. You put both hands over your cup.

Papa looked directly into your eyes.

“Sir Sharpe.”

Your throat tightened. Part of your vision went dizzy. You began to piece together where this was leading. Nausea gripped your insides as your hold on the glass turned into a grip.

“He knows he needs our money and to be back into society. We still need the respect of his title…and we have a daughter left who must be taken care of…”

You found yourself hyperventilating. Words choked out of you.

“Am I…am I…”

“YN, you are going to marry Sir Sharpe in your sister’s place this coming month.” he announced flatly.

A sound came out of you. You put a hand over your mouth. You now knew what Lottie felt. Your whole body went tight. You had to catch your breath. How glad you were to be sitting, for your legs were already shaking bad and your vision was spinning. You looked down at the floor, trying to pull yourself together. Your father kept talking.

“Now, I know this isn’t pleasant. Especially for a romantic such as yourself. I know you have yet to be formally introduced to him. But, Y/N, my dear- we have to be practical about these matters. There is no respectable solution to this problem at this point, if Charlotte is to not return.”

He was right. As twisted as this was, was there another option? 

Who would want to associate with a family who couldn’t keep an eye on their eldest? Who would want to invite a family who let their daughter run away to their breakfast party? Who would want to court the sister of the woman who ran off from her own marriage? Who would want to marry the daughter of disgraced family? 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized there were few options. You were now too socially stained to marry anyone. Your days would be spent alone. Sitting in your house as others lived their lives happy and free, laughing at you behind closed doors.

Your family had no other options out. 

A marriage to a man who belonged to a knighted family would earn you respect. It would be telling society that at least one man from a respectable house saw worth in you. You would still go to events not as a figure of pity and ridicule, but as one of them- even ranking above them.

You didn’t want to be a figure of ridicule. Someone who everyone would smugly turn. Whispering to each other “how glad I am that I’m not her!”

You had to marry. And marry well.

You would never be proposed to at this point. There would be no courtship. No dances. No poetry. No marriage proposals. No valentines. No love letters. No Passion. No balls. No laughter.

But there was never going to be a proposal like this.

No future. No safety. Nothing if you denied your father or refused him or rebelled as Lottie did.

You would just be tied and tethered to a ruined family all of your days. But becoming Lady Sharpe would free you from that. You could start anew. Spring again like a wild tiger breaking out of its cage to bear her claws.

And this was your only chance.

“Yes, papa. It will be an honor.” you replied. You would do your duty, as all daughters must.

Father walked out from behind, abandoning his drink. He put a hand on your shoulder and then pulled you for a hug.

“There’s my brave girl,” he said.

He released the hug.

“Alright, Sir Sharpe is going to visit at dinner tomorrow. And my associates at work will be there too, to celebrate. That way, you will have a formal introdution and you won’t be walking down the aisle to a complete stranger.”

You felt your fists grab your skirt. With your free hand, you grabbed your cup of brandy and downed it in one gulp. The burning ran through your body, and you prayed it would calm your racing mind.

“Do I need to wear my nicest dress?” you asked. You at least didn’t want Sir Sharpe to think he was settling from the society beauty. Downgraded from the Wild Rose to her frump sister.

“Considering he has already said yes to this arrangement, I doubt wearing your ugliest dress will do anything to about the matter,” replied your father.

❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁

Anne dressed you in a cream dinner dress of country silk and velvet. Your sleeves puffed like clouds. there was lace as a “belt” around your waist. The bottom showed an underskirt that was a color between light brown and pink. Anne had hair like yours, and knew how to style it as you liked. Your dress almost white in the light. Already you were going to meet Thomas looking like a bride.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed seven o clock. You thought you would sweat through your dress. Part of you was tempted to lock the door and not step a foot out the whole night. But you knew you could not delay the meeting anymore. At this rate, you would just meet him on your wedding day. You just had to get it over with.

Besides, you were going to spend the rest of your life with him until only death or divorce did you part. You were just holding back the inevitable. 

“You look beautiful, miss,” she gushed as she looked at you.

“I wish I was as pretty as Lottie, sometimes. Or as brave as her…” you lamented quietly.

“Don’t compare yourself to her, miss. You know she has her own sufferings. And it will only make you more unhappy.” Anne advised, giving you a pearl necklace. She attached it to you from behind. 

 Both of you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Anne leaned in closer with an encouraging smile. “Just think of all this like armor to a battle, Miss Y/N. You can’t give up the fight, yet.”

I can be brave, like Lottie. I can fight, like she can. You thought. How could you be as stupid as to forget your own advice to her not long ago? You would do your best to find the way to make it a good situation. Manipulate your position and standing to your favor, even. For that was what women always did. For being the “weaker sex”, they always found a way through to survive. So what made you think you would just cry and pity yourself all of your days?

You reminded yourself of this. Still you felt heart racing hard as if the gallows was what awaited you next month and not the altar. Holding your head high, like a queen in her palace, you walked out of your room and downstairs.

A few women had shown up in the foyer. They eyed you greedily but you would not give them a figure to be pitied. You kept a stoic face as they offered a few tepid congratulations. But you felt so buzzed with anxiety, you only half heard.

“We’re so happy you found a husband,” said one.

Husband- husband! A husband! A fiancee! How was it that it happened already? And with no romantic proposal in a moonlit garden away from a ball. Just in an office that smelled of whiskey with your father relaying that you were now engaged. And your husband- no, you weren’t married yet, no need to panic now. Though you saw no men around, you knew that your fiancee was under this roof. 

You didn’t feel ready. You felt like you were just an adolescent playing dress up and not a grown adult. 

“Ah! There you are, YN!” your father greeted as he walked over, dressed in his evening tuxedo. He offered his arm.

“He’s in the library, sharing a drink with the other men. I think it’s time I introduce you both,” he announced.

Swallowing, you took his arm. The one thing keeping you afloat in the ocean of turmoil raging inside you.

Papa walked you over to the library. Your heart picked up as if you were running. In just a few short seconds, you would see the man you were bound to for the rest of your life. Your mind was itself running at a hundred miles a second and you felt yourself shaking like a leaf.

Father turned to the door and your fears screamed inside of you.

You dreaded what your sister said. Her voice ringing in your ears bemoaning Thomas’s apparent ugliness.

“He has a big forehead and big ears and a big old nose!”

He was ugly. You had to settle for that. But what made you were frightened was that perhaps he was a bad person. Perhaps he would hurt you, betray you, break you even.

Wait…didn’t Lottie say herself he wouldn’t treat her in that way? But…you weren’t Lottie! He could act completely differently…

No…you were forming an entire judgement on someone you hadn’t even met!

But, even if he wasn’t handsome…perhaps he would be a nice man. Men didn’t have to be handsome to be good. They could be kind, respectful, patient, gentle, genuinely kind husbands.

So which one was he? A kind, pure soul? Or an irredeemale monster?

Both? In between? Neither? There was only one way to find out. And the answer was standing with the other men beyond that wall.

You took in a deep breath, your father opened the door.

The dark green, musty library already smelled of cigars. Lottie would have loved it. There was a bit of laughter, as their smoke floated to the air. Cups of whiskey was passed and there was talk of this and that issue in Parliment. So many men in black suits like a horde clamored around, as if each one was copied from the other.

Your father cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen, may I introduce to you my daughter, Miss Y/L/N.”

Once, it was Lottie who was “Miss Y/L/N” and you just went by Miss and your first name after. But now that she was gone, you were promoted up. You were Miss Y/L/N and the family’s fortune and future were already on you like a yoke you had to drag across the field.

“It appears that for one of you, you are about to be a very lucky man next month…” your father continued.

One by ones, heads turned to see you. Some in curiosity. Some in boredom. Some in hunger seeing your neckline. You were already making guesses as to who your fiancee was with each passing face. Already one man had a curled mustache. Another had grey hair with busy sideburns. Another round spectacles and short brown hair with a mousy face. Most of them were wrinkled, lined with grey, with a gruffness to their demenaer.

“Sir Sharpe,” your father announced, turning his head.

Your eyes followed at once. That is him- you thought. That  is him! That is him, that is him, thatishimthatishimthatishim-

An old man patted a hand on the shoulder of another. The younger had hair had longer, dark curls He was so deep in conversation with someone that he almost forgot. The grandfather nudged him. The younger figure paused.

“Thomas! I believe your lady is here.”

Then he turned around. 

Thomas Sharpe was the handsomest man you had ever seen. 

The breath you had was knocked out again as you took him in. What on earth was Lottie thinking? Looking at him, you began to question her taste and strength of vision.

Thomas was a tall man with a hair full of raven curls. Slender, but not thin for he had a broad chest. Soft blue eyes that only contrasted with his dark hair and a face the color of porcelain. You now understood the fairy tale of Snow White and why she was the fairest in all the land. For the male equivalent was here before you. He had high cheekbones and large hands. He looked like the hero of a Bronte novel, but one if the author confirmed his handsomeness rather than his ugliness. 

He looked into your eyes and he smiled at you. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach and you could feel your eyes widening.

Your father gestured at him and he walked over.

“Sir Sharpe, this is my daughter.Your fiancee.” your father announced.

“Miss, I am glad to finally be acquainted with you. You look beautiful, tonight,” Sir Sharpe greeted. 

He raised your hand to his lips and looked right into your eyes as kissed your hand. A gasp could not even escape your throat. Something was stirring beneath you when his lips touched your gloved hand. You felt a sensation you dared not name in the most private part of you. 

Finally, steeling yourself back to the earth, you remembered basic etiquette.

“Thank you, Sir Sharpe. I am glad to make your acquaintance as well,” you replied with a curtsy.

Sir Sharpe sat across from you at dinner. You hardly said a word unless someone asked you something. 

You couldn’t believe this. You couldn’t believe him. You somehow found your appetite again and ate. But you felt self conscious with each bite. Thomas was watching you- what was he seeing? Would he judge you? You moved even more carefully and properly as you could.

 Every time your eyes met,  Every time he looked at you, a heat rushed through your whole body and your eyes would return demurely back to your plate or the napkin on your lap. When he smiled at you, you felt as if you could die. You had to remember your feet was touching the ground as you wiggled your toes in your pointed shoes.. 

He spoke poliely when asked to, but mainly listened. There was polite talk about the weather or the Ascot opening race. Thomas would ask you about what you thought and you found your replies were timid. You didn’t want to make a wrong move, you didn’t want him to hate you, you didn’t want-

Then your father stood up, raising a glass.

“Now, everyone,” he declared. “Let us have a toast. To Sir Sharpe, the delightful Baronet who I have the honor to call my son in law not long from now. And to the marriage of my beloved, dutiful daughter-”

You found yourself looking down. Dutiful, dutiful. This was why you were here. Lottie was not dutiful and broke everything. But now here you were to fix it all. For everyone’s sakes, including yours. It would have be you thrown to face the unknown of marriage to this unknown aristocrat. Yes, he was handsome. But he was still a stranger.

“Cheers!” toasted your father.

Everyone replied with cheers as they clinked glasses. Thomas gave you another smile and clinked yours. You felt yourself become timid. His looks, his smiles, and you were acting no better than an loony adolescent.

Thomas delayed going to after-dinner sips of brandy with the other men. He remained in the parlor with the women sipping on coffee and went to you. He led you over to a corner away from nosy mamas. He spoke lowly, for you to hear.

“How are you, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked.

“If I must be entirely honest, I am afraid,” you confessed.

His eyes softened at you. They were the color of a spring sky. You had never seen eyes as blue as his.

“YN, I know this is sudden. And I’m shocked as you are. But…”

He offered his hand and you took it. Your glove over his skin. Then he placed his other over yours, and already you found yourself chilled comparing his large hand to your own. To feeling that one bit of touch. For now you were almost married, and to touch was permitted.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me…I will try to make you happy, with everything I can.” he promised.

“Nothing will happen to me. You won’t hurt me. And you won’t let anyone hurt me, will you?” you asked.

A shadow of sadness passed over his face.

“No. I won’t.”

[leighsartworks216]

Let Me Help You

Zayne x gn!Reader

I just copy/pasted this from my notes bc I am too tired to go through and retype it all 👍

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentally/emotionally abusive parents, crying, communication, food + cooking, domestic, established relationship

Word Count: 1,019

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You felt awful. Watching Zayne try to rescue dinner. The dinner you were so determined to make for him. You weren't bad at cooking, but (and you'd be the last to admit this) you got in way over your head with the recipe you chose. The amount of multitasking required to make it meant it fell apart before you even turned the stove on. Which meant half of the food was overcooked (not burnt, just... crispy and tough), and the other half was undercooked (which Zayne was trying to deal with now).

You dropped your head onto the kitchen table, hiding in the cover of your arms. You're not sure when you start crying. All you know is you have to keep it tamped down, have to keep it from Zayne, have to pretend you're not. You've already bugged him enough for one night.

Glass makes contact with the wooden table, mixing with the gentle clatter of silverware. You risk peeking out with one eye to see a plate full of the scavenged meal. You didn't have the appetite for it anymore. You go back to your moping.

Zayne's chair slides across the floor, muffled by felt attached to the bottom of the legs. He's sitting just there. It ignites an unfamiliar swarm of fire ants in your body; they crawl and chatter and fester under your skin. You dig your fingers into your arm, preparing for the worst.

"My love," he says softly. When you don't answer, he pulls your hand from your arm. He holds it tenderly, rubbing along your knuckles in a familiar display of his affections. "Talk to me, please."

You inhale shakily. "Are you upset?" you mutter. It's muffled and quiet, but he pieces it together.

"I'm not upset, but I am worried. It's not like you to do something like this."

"It's not like you..." Unfortunately, that is the problem.

You hesitantly lift your head. You don't let him go, but you don't look at him as you wipe the tears from your face. He squeezes your hand a little tighter. "My parents called..." you finally admit.

Zayne had only ever met them once. It was the single most uncomfortable, disquieting experience possible. You'd ended up leaving that dinner party early, but you still couldn't manage to cut them out of your life. They're your parents, they should be kind, loving and understanding - and somehow you trick your brain before every call into thinking they are, up until they open their mouths.

He sighs, frowning. "What did they say?"

"They said that... you do too much around the house after working as hard as you do. That I should be pulling my weight more, be a better partner." You keep going before he can argue against their claims. "They're right, though. I mean, you work so hard at the hospital and then you come home and cook? I should have something ready for you. You should be able to relax right after work, not keep working to take care of me after all that.

"So I thought..." You sigh, rubbing at your sore eyes. "I thought I would make you something. Something proper, not just, like, stuff from the convenience store down the block."

"May I say something?" he asks quietly.

Your chest clenches painfully at every thought of what he could say, but you nod regardless. He squeezes your hand again like a silent thank you.

"Taking care of you is not work to me. It never has been," he starts. He speaks firmly, but not unkindly. He knows why you think that way, knows your parents have spent every minute of their lives cementing that into your head and reinforcing it with every phone call berating you for taking up too much time and space. But it's not true. Never.

He continues, "I enjoy being able to come home from work and spend time in the kitchen with you. I always look forward to it. And even if we order food in, I never mind, because I will be eating it with you. Do you understand?"

You stare down at your joined hands. Their outlines blur into smudged watercolor as tears build back up in your eyes. You wipe them away and nod.

"You are the best partner I could ever hope for."

You watch as he brings your hand to his face. He kisses your palm and gently nuzzles it open with his cheek so you hold his face. He smiles softly at you. It's the first time you've looked at his face since he got home. He was starting to miss it, the way your gaze feels so warm on him.

"I'm sorry," you croak out.

"It's alright," he reassures. "Please talk to me the next time you have doubts like this. While I appreciate the gesture, choose a simple recipe next time."

A laugh bubbles out of you despite yourself. He kisses your hand again. How he missed that smile.

"Okay."

It fades back into a troubled frown a moment later. It's like the sun peeking out on an overcast day, only to be covered up by the next passing cloud.

"I can still do more around the house. I feel like I don't do enough for everything you do for me."

He hums thoughtfully. "Let's make a list of chores. We can divide them between us until it feels balanced. Is there anything else?"

You mindlessly stroke his cheek with your thumb. He leans into it. He can see the thoughts fighting in your head. See the way you fight on both sides in the war of indecision. It seems there is a clear winner, when you finally, finally look him in the eye.

"I think," you start in a nervous, broken whisper, "I need help cutting them off."

"Let me help you," he whispers in return, a plea.

You nod with little hesitation. "Okay."

"Is there anything else?" he asks again.

"Just one more thing.” You glance at the plates of food before you. "Can we get takeout?"

He chuckles softly. "Yes, we can get takeout."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[fridgrave2-0]

Do you think Calhoun and Felix are endgame or Felix and Turbo? For example, if there was any kind of possibility Turbo could come back, would they get back together because of unresolved feelings or would or be an aggressive side eye situation? lol

if we take a situation where turbo is mostly forgiven by others and goes through his therapy arc, then actually think of poly

turbo would hate the idea of being around felix 'cause he still has to process the whole "he turned me into a boogeyman" thing, so he always reminds himself that he shouldn't be jealous bc of calhoun, he doesn't want this fixing piece of shit anymore (he does, but he lived with this anger on felix for 25 years so he can't just let go). turbo actually tries to interact with calhoun when felix isn't around and very soon he understands that she's actually very cool. he's been through some shit between roadblasters and sugar rush period, still feels a lot of regret and pain about turbo twins and can relate to calhoun's loss more than anyone else in the group. and, well, the whole cybug thing also adds to it. as much candybug felt excited about becoming this mutant, it was a lot from the bug perspective, and when turbo got the full control over his mind and body the terror did hit him like a bus. tamora was able to give him the understanding of cybugs, and he shared how he felt when he was eaten. "it wasn't painful or anything, at least i don't remember the pain. but i didn't feel like myself anymore, like i was under players control again, and any attempt of taking the control back just felt so wrong." it was something tamora needed, many years she lived with doubt. did her fiance even had a chance of being the man she loved after being eaten, or it would just be a monster with a familiar face. now this burden fell off her shoulders. she wasn't the one who killed him, the cybug was

turbo saw a lot of himself in calhoun. this need to keep the front all the time, to stay in control, to hide most of the emotions and do not look weak. and just like with him, she began to open up because of felix. turbo wanted to warn her, say that he already got burned by felix's light, got too close and paid for it. but keeping the distance with fix-it actually helped turbo see the whole picture, and felix seemed different now. and it shouldn't be surprising, people can change in 15 years of which he didn't see felix. maybe it was calhoun's job, or an experience of almost being unplugged, but fix-it looked almost sad everytime turbo was coming up with an excuse to avoid him. turbo learned his lesson. why did he felt so bad seeing an unspoken remorse in felix's eyes?

tamora was the one, who made them talk after too much time of walking around and playing hide and seek. in last months turbo taught himself to apologize and be genuine about it, and he was ready to do it, but with felix everything goes wrong, as always. this was exactly what fix-it wanted, it has always been like this. when turbo apologized, that was making felix in the right, no matter what was the reason. he knew felix saw the world in black in white, and that means always there's the one who's right, and the one who's wrong. and my any means turbo never was a perfect or even a decent person before, and he doesn't think so of himself now just because he realized his bad actions and said sorry couple of hundreds times. being eaten by a bug and burn in lava makes you reconsider a lot of things. but he knew he wasn't the only one who was wrong, and the idea hearing it again from felix was the worst. so turbo bit his tongue and kept his apologies

...only to hear felix saying "i'm sorry" for the first time in 30 long years. turbo didn't think it was possible, but here he was, sitting in niceland with silent but proud looking calhoun by his side while felix was pouring out his soul. apologies mixed up with tears - turbo knew that felix always cries when he gets too emotional - and felix just talked and talked for ten minutes straight, not seeing how the tension was leaving turbo's body. he relaxed, listening to felix not with a sense of triumph, but with a bit of fun. couple of times he turned to look at tamora only to see her sharing this look with him, and suddenly everything just became so simple and trivial that turbo made felix stop talking by pulling him into a hug. he wished for his apologies for 30 years, and now when he got them he didn't want to listen to it. because what was the point? turbo got the point in first two minutes, he knew felix was feeling sorry, and to list all their mistakes and bad choices would take too much of the time they had already lost

"i got the jist, big idiot, you didn't have to write a whole essay about how sorry you are", turbo said with a grin and heard felix chuckle. then he sighed and hid his face in felix's shoulder, still uncomfortable with being so open. "but thanks... i'm sorry too, y'know?"

turbo felt how felix relaxed in his arms

"yeah, i know, little idiot", felix replied, and for the first time in decades turbo felt like home. while he was keeping his face in felix's shoulder and breathing the familiar smell of pie and brick dust, felix looked at his wife, who seemed unusually soft, and uttered without a sound small "thank you". after all, without her they wouldn't ever try

[kitsuga]

Lean In. {Kaeya x Reader}

Description:  

A fic where Kaeya teases reader and they decide to “fight” back. 

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Tags: fluff, kissing, flirting, part of me feels like kaeya is ooc but im cutting myself some slack bc it was my first time writing him LKJSDFH, reader is NOT mc/lumine/aether!, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, genshin impact x reader, kaeya x reader, genshin impact, kaeya alberich

Word Count: 730

A/N: Written on: April 2, 2021 

Feels a bit ooc because I cant get the sweet spot of his teasing but writing this made my heart JUMP so that’s good enough for me to post it LMAO kaeya hand in marriage challenge thanks 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Cavalry Captain was always a tease. It wasn’t always with bad intentions or to cause a reaction from them, but more often than not, to their dismay, it was. This was one of those instances where they felt it was a grey area; Kaeya was hard to read in general, and even harder to read if he’s being genuine or bluffing. His honeyed words and sly smile caused (Y/n) to squint at him, brushing off the hand he had on their shoulder. 

“Come on now, (Y/n), don’t be shy.” 

“I’m not being shy, and I’m not giving you anything to hold against me.” 

“Hold against you? Now, why would I do that?” 

“You aren’t fooling anyone, Kaeya.” They looked out towards the town, leaning on their arms against the railing in front of them. “I can see right through you. Everything you do makes sure you have something to gain from it.” 

“Is that right?”  

“Don’t be so smug, you know it’s right.” 

“Oh, how you wound me so.” He joined them on leaning against the railing on one elbow, his cheek resting upon the back of his hand.  

(Y/n) ignored his comment and continued looking over the town in front of them. Bundles of people had bustled in front of the taverns and a few stragglers were making their way to or from the same places. The lights around were soft, faint, just a calm flicker only shadowed by the rogue dandelion seed among the equally as soft breeze. It was a quiet night, with not much to do, so they wondered why Kaeya was even bothering to... well, bother them. What did he want? Just to tease them? To annoy them?  

They started to bite the inside of their cheek, involuntarily growing warm under the periwinkle stare that focused on every little move of theirs. With an exasperated sigh and eyebrows laced together, they closed their eyes to avoid the look they knew he would give them. 

“Stop smiling at me like that.” 

“Hm?” 

“If you keep smiling at me like that... nevermind.” 

“Oh no, (Y/n),” Kaeya leaned in closer towards them, his smile now turning to a smirk, “please, continue. What will happen?” 

(Y/n) shook their head, opening their eyes only to shoot him a sideways glare. They ignored the fact he had slowly started to move closer to them, and figured he was still just trying to get a rise out of them. They stuck their lip out in a pout, huffing at the realization that he’d simply keep bugging them, which was normally unlike the man to do so. Why was he so invested in this exchange of theirs? They turned their face to him, ready to give him some half-assed answer—a taste of his own medicine—but stopped short once their eyes met the longing expression in his. 

The air between them felt still, though his eye flickered between theirs and their lips. (Y/n) was dumbstruck, unsure of what their next move should be. Their heart was racing and they were positive he could hear it with just how close he had been. Kaeya looked genuine, for once, and very vulnerable compared to his normal stature. Mindlessly, his tongue flicked over his own lips before his very faint voice filled the air. 

“Show me what will happen.” 

Without a second thought, (Y/n) closed the gap between them, turning his at first gentle kiss into something with more power, more desperation behind it. They could feel him smile during it, and practically feel the chuckle he held back. Kaeya kept his kiss gentle, moving to rest his hand at the base of their head to keep them with him. They took a moment to simply look at each other once they parted; (Y/n) felt a rush of emotions as the corners of his lips turned up to his signature smirk. With one hand still holding their head, the other moved to hold the small of their back and bring them flush against him. They could feel that they were in for a long night of teasing as the words left his mouth, and simply sighed in resignation at the fact that they had fallen for the man. 

“You're right, I do make sure I have something to gain.” His smirk fell once again to a genuine smile, “I guess this time, it’s you.” 

[owatazumi]

Ok this is a ff idea for Heeseung or maybe the whole hyung line…but I kinda wanna see how they would react to catching you singing in different scenarios

For example: Hee = u were laying in bed with ur headphones in. Jay = u were cooking. Jake = u were drawing/writing. Hoon = u were in your room dancing and thought u were home alone.

(Doesn’t have to be exact…I was just giving u some ideas)

enha + reader best friends/relationship getting caught singing no warnings a/n: thank you squoxie for this cute request, omgomg i really hope you enjoy it !! i added all the members bc i feel like i don’t do headcanons and stuff like that enough so here you go !! hope you enjoy it nonetheless<3

heeseung and you were on the way back home, the windows rolled slightly down, the breeze hitting softly against your face as you tap your foot to the song that hee put on… «i hear the secrets that you keep, when you’re talkin’ in your sleep» and as soon as you start singing along to the song, heeseung couldn’t help but smile at you in such a tender way. he liked the song and he especially liked you so this just made the whole ride home better…

“i never heard you talk in your sleep before, you know? maybe because you don’t hide secrets from me…”

jay had been bugging you all week long to cook with him sometime, telling you that it would be a great way to bond further so eventually you give in and agree to his idea. a playlist of his and your favorite songs was playing in the background as you two run around the kitchen in a hustle, occasionally bumping into each other, maybe on accident, maybe not… «꼭꼭 숨었다가 웃으면 나타나, 어디서 온 걸까» but as soon as you started singing to dimple, jay stopped everything he was doing to listen carefully to your beautiful voice…

“i told you it would be great to cook together and i’m glad you agreed or i wouldn’t have heard your beautiful voice…”

jake was pretty busy with his game, not paying much attention to what you were doing so you made yourself comfortable on his bed, softly humming and singing to the songs you put on that you found when he went with you through his playlists one time… «come closer, i’ll give you all my love, if you treat me right, baby, i’ll give you everything» and needless to say, he was immediately thrown out of his gamer mindset as soon as he heard your voice singing along to falling. jake turned around in his chair, putting down his headphones and made himself comfortable beside you on his bed, cuddling close to you as you chuckle softly since he was accidentally tickling you…

“this song reminds me of you… i always have to think about you when i listen to it and im absolutely not complaining.”

sunghoon and you felt a weird craving for some snacks in the middle of the night, silently making your way to the kitchen to not wake up the other members. while he was rummaging through the shelves, searching for something that might interest him you were snacking on your cereal, phone in your hand, scrolling through socials as you sing a random song… «i want you to know, that if i can’t be close to you, i’ll settle for the ghost of you, i miss you more than life» sunghoon froze as soon as he heard you singing so softly, his heart doing jumping jacks. he noticed that you probably didn’t even notice that he heard you so he carefully sneaked up on you, looking over your shoulder with a soft smile…

“that wasn’t too bad, was it? mind singing the rest of the song for me?”

sunoo wanted to have a movie night with you since he had a few days off and he wanted to spent some time with his best friend again. you actually knew one of the songs that played in the movie so you couldn’t help but sing along, feeling all excited about it… «우연히 너의 메일을 알게되면서,모니터 앞에 널 밤새 기다릴때» and sunoo immediately started singing along with you, smiling brightly as you two started swinging side to side slightly, vibing and even harmonizing to i think i did together…

“i’m so glad we chose this movie! i really like this song and it’s much more special when we enjoy it together, right?”

jungwon had one earbud in his ear and you had the other one as you two walk along the river, the sky freckled with bright stars. he didn’t seem very focused on you, he was very relaxed, just enjoying the moment as you two casually walked together… «i knew it when i first read your lips, only angels speak like this» as if out of reflex, both of you turn your heads toward each other, your gazes connecting as the stars shine down on you…

“i’m glad you know this song too… it would be embarrassing if i told you that i think of you when i listen to it without you knowing the song.”

ni-ki wanted you to come along to one of his late night practices, the vibes were different and you had the whole studio to yourselves so nobody was interrupting or annoying. you were both vining to one of the songs that he recommended you to play, laughter and chuckles echoing through the room as you two enjoy the time together… «sippin’ bubbly feelin’ lovely, livin’ lovely, just love me, just love me just love me» ni-ki had to stop for a second, mesmerized by both the way you moved so comfortably, trusting him enough to just dance however you wanted and the way you started singing along to the song as well…

“not bad, i have to admit. maybe we should do this more often, what’d ya say?”

<33 @squoxle @echoofnoise00

[mcytblrconfessions]

i think ppl like hating on martyn bc they know they’ll get a response (bc he has every right to explain/defend himself) and it pisses me off bc rather than being a pain in the ass you could just put your energy into being positive about the things you do like. so i am gonna spend the rest of this confession being overly positive about things i keep seeing hate on. i love martyn’s vtuber lore, i think it’s really fun and a genuinely good story to get to follow. I loved secret life for how crazy and chaotic it became and how much more members interacted with each other. gem was amazing in the life series, she was absolutely hilarious and played the game so well and felt like a perfect fit in the group. I like when fanart has wings!!! idc about bird anatomy they look sick. i like when fandoms have in jokes or shared headcanons, i also like when people come up with more unique headcanons! headcanons are fun, as long as they don’t make CCs uncomfortable and aren’t done in poor taste then I don’t see the issue with them! make your fav a bug or bird or a flower!! make them furries!!! make them vampires!!! give them pink streaks in their hair!!! make them goths or punks or emos!!! do it!!!

is this really a confession or more just an autism fuelled rant?? idk, you decide!

[verfound]

FIC: "Of Kwamis, Soulmates, and Idiots"

(MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Sorry not sorry for the end...

Read on Ao3

Prompt 09: New Pet

“You should talk to him.”

Marinette felt her shoulders stiffen – felt her entire body tense – at the tiny voice.  Irrational as it was, because she knew no one else could hear it.  No one else was able to see or hear Tikki except for her – that’s just how kwamis worked.

…well.

Her, and her soulmate.

But she didn’t have a soulmate.  Or…she hadn’t found them.  Yet.  So it was impossible that anyone else currently aboard the Liberty would have heard Tikki’s horrible suggestion.

Talk to him.

Like she could ever do something as crazy as that.

“Shut up,” she hissed under her breath, her eyes still darting up to make sure the band – to make sure he wasn’t listening.  She hunched closer to her legs, bringing her face dangerously close to her sketchbook, and tapped her pencil against the page in irritation.  “You know I can’t.”

“But why?” the little bug asked, zipping out from behind her pigtails to stare unabashedly at the him in question.

…Luka.

Juleka’s older brother.

Lead guitar of Kitty Section.

Super cool, super nice, super hot, super out of her league…

Tikki was frowning as she looked back and forth from Luka to Marinette’s sketchbook.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked, tilting her little head to the side.  Marinette flailed, sending her sketchbook flying, as she grabbed at the kwami.  Did she have to be so loud?!

“Tikki, shut up!” she cried, her face burning as she pulled her against her chest.  She looked up at the sudden silence on the deck, and she gave a nervous laugh as she waved off the concerned stares.  “S-sorry, guys!  You know how…annoying kwamis are!”

Tikki shouted something rude at her, she was sure, but her hand was covering the little brat’s mouth and it came out a muffled squeak.  Marinette groaned as she pulled her knees back up on the crate and pressed her forehead against them.  Tikki grew suddenly quiet, and Marinette looked up to find…oh.  Oh no.

Luka was standing right in front of her, her discarded sketchbook in hand.

“Your kwami’s a little shit, too, huh?” he chuckled, holding the book out for her.  She swallowed and glanced down at her clenched hands, but Luka wasn’t looking at Tikki.

…of course he wouldn’t be.

He couldn’t see her.

Because he wasn’t…

“More than usual lately,” she sighed, letting Tikki go as she took her book back.  She offered him a shaky smile as he took a seat on the crate beside her.  “Sorry.  She…likes to tease me.”

“Oh, mine lives for that,” he chuckled.  “I don’t think Sass considers a day complete until he’s made my life a living hell.”

She giggled as he grinned at her, and her feet slipped from the edge of the crate back to the deck as she leaned forward.  His smile softened, and that…oh, he had the best smile…

“I’m sure he’s not all that bad,” she said, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear.  She looked up at him with a shy smile and prayed her face wasn’t as red as it felt.  “…he’s your kwami, after all.”

“Well, by that logic…someone as sweet as you?  Tikki has to be a saint,” he said.  She wanted to roll her eyes, but Luka had just called her sweet, and she ended up mumbling out some nonsense that might have been a thank you or maybe a shut up you’re cute, but either way she ended up looking back at the deck as her face burned hotter.  After a moment, he nudged he shoulder with his own and nodded towards the sketchbook.  “Sooo…what were you working on?  It must be good – you looked pretty intense.”

Her stomach clenched, remember exactly what – or who – she had been doodling, and she prayed he hadn’t actually seen the very detailed sketch of himself when he had picked the book up.

…any of the very detailed studies she’d done of him over the last few weeks, actually.  Tikki, kill her now…

“N-no, it was…it was nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head.  “Just…you know.  Doodles.”

“I’d love to see them sometime, if you don’t mind sharing,” he said, leaning a little closer.  “Juleka says you’re crazy talented.”

“She…she said that?” she asked, looking up in surprise.  She hugged her sketchbook to her chest, and his smile…there was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite place – something she maybe wasn’t quite ready to place yet – that made her stomach flip pleasantly.  That made her want to show him the sketchbook, or anything he asked for, if only he’d keep looking at her like that.  He nodded, and she looked away as she bit down on her smile.  “That…that was really sweet of her.”

“She can be, sometimes,” he said.  She glanced back up at him, and her breath caught when he winked at her.  “If you’re not related to her.”

A giggle was startled out of her, and he chuckled as he reached over to squeeze her shoulder.  He glanced at something behind her, that strange look passing over his face again, before he stood and waved.

“Th-thanks!” she called as he turned away.  He looked back, and she waved her sketchbook at him.  “For…bringing it back.  Thank you.”

“Anytime, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” he said with a wink.  She rolled her eyes at the nickname, but her face didn’t feel as hot as it had the first time he’d teased her with it.  It felt…familiar, now.  More comfortable.

A tiny giggle by her shoulder had her tensing all over again, and she looked down to find Tikki grinning at her.

“Well,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “at least you talked to him!”

. : .

Later, after the others had headed home for the night and Luka was left ‘cleaning up’ the deck (…which was more of an excuse to sit on the stage, staring up at the stars as he worked on that song that had been stuck in his head since blue, blue eyes and Ma-Ma-Marinettes), Sass decided he apparently hadn’t had enough that day.

…as if seeing that crazy drawing of him in her sketchbook hadn’t been enough.  He had almost dropped the book all over again when he’d picked it up and realized she’d been drawing him the entire time she’d been watching their rehearsal.  When he’d realized she’d been watching him maybe as much as he’d been trying not to watch her.

“You ssstill have not told her,” the little snake hissed softly, settling on the head of his guitar when his playing tapered out.  Luka’s grip tightened on the neck as his eyes narrowed at his kwami.  His long tail was dangling, swishing almost like a cat – and the smirk on his face was definitely too feline for something that was supposed to be a snake.

“Sass…” he said in warning, but Sass just flicked his tongue out at him.  He’d say he was scenting the air, but Luka knew better.  Sass lived to torment him.

“Why haven’t you told her?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.  Luka rolled his eyes and jostled his guitar, just enough to dislodge the little shit.

“You know why,” he sighed, sinking back against the speaker he was using as a backrest.  “She’s not ready yet, buddy.”

“How do you know if you don’t tell her?” Sass pressed.  “Shhhe deserves to know, Luka.  Wouldn’t you both be happier if she did?”

“…she’s not ready yet,” he insisted, shaking his head.  “Her song’s still too…I don’t think she knows what she really wants yet, Sass.  And when I tell her…I want her to want it.  I want her to want me.  Is that too much to ask?”

The kwami’s brow furrowed, as if he didn’t understand – or didn’t believe – him, and Luka sighed as he started picking the familiar notes out again.  Marinette’s song.  The one that had utterly bewitched him from the moment he had first heard it – that had only intensified when she’d waved goodbye that first night and he’d seen the large, violet eyes peeking out from behind her collar.

Sass heaved a longsuffering sigh as he settled on his human’s head.  He flicked his tail against him as he settled in, a clear sign of his annoyance.

“I ssstill sssay you shhhould tell her,” he huffed, and Luka smiled sadly.

“I know, buddy,” he said.  “I will.  Soon.”

. : .

Except it wasn’t just that the kwamis’ humans were soulmates.

The kwamis needed each other, too.

They were linked, in an ancient, mysterious way no one really understood.

They could never really exist peacefully, in harmony, until they were reunited.

…and soon just wasn’t proving to be soon enough.

After another week went by – and then another two – Sass and Tikki had had just about enough.

“She’s just so shy,” Tikki huffed from their hiding place in the basketball hoop.  “She’s so amazing, Sass, but she has no self-confidence!  She’ll never make the first move!”

“I fear Luka won’t, either, if shhhe never does,” Sass sighed.  “He feels shhhe is…not ready.”

He said it with a roll of his eyes, and Tikki pouted as she stared at the two hopeless soulmates dancing around each other below them.

“She’s more ready than he thinks,” she tutted.  “You don’t have to wake up to her kissing her stupid cat pillow and sighing his name.”

Sass snickered, and Tikki tried to pout at him, but it was too easy to return his grin when he looked at her like that.  He was more familiar with things like that than she knew, he was afraid.

“Perhapsss it’sss time we ssstopped leaving it up to them, then?” he suggested, tilting his head as he watched Luka bend to help Marinette pick something up – and then crash his head against hers when their hands brushed and she jerked back.  “Perhapsss they need a little…pushhh?”

“…what do you have in mind?” Tikki asked, turning to him.  He grinned and floated up, winking at her as he made his way below.

“I think it’sss about time I sssee thisss pillow for myssself,” he hummed.  It took barely a moment – the briefest of distractions, provided by Ivan calling for Luka to get back to the stage and neither of them watching too closely – and then Sass was phasing through Marinette’s bag, settling into a pocket he was sure would go unchecked until it was too late.

From her place on the hoop, Tikki just…stared.

She…hadn’t known they could do that?

They could do that???

She had thought they were bound to their humans, that they couldn’t travel too far from them, and yet…well.

If Luka was Marinette’s soulmate, perhaps he was a little bit Tikki’s human, too?

Tikki was still hiding up on the hoop a short while later when Marinette received a call asking her to come home, and she watched anxiously as her human waved goodbye to her friends and ran off the boat.

…as Luka watched her go, a look she would call nothing short of longing on his face.

She sank back against the board and wished for a freshly-baked cookie to chew on.  Oh, she had a bad feeling about this…