#free cricket tips

[freeipltips]

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[cricprediction]

Get Today cricket Match predictions with expert tips and get a chance to win in a cricket match, we are providing 99 percent accurate predictions at our website

[cbtfking]

Cricket Bet Tips: Winning Strategies with CBTF KING

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For more details, you can visit us:

Today Cricket match predictions

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IPL 2025

[amitcbtf]

IPL Prediction 2023

[fiverrclone1]

Omninos Solutions

Omninos Solutions is a company that creates apps and websites for several platforms. They not only execute duties, but they also form relationships with people. They are the ones that are providing the services. It may take some time before this idea converts into the strength that allows them to easily outweigh their competitors.

[rootedinrevisions]

In His Arms

A/N: Just a little aftercare fluff with our favorite cowboy. Not much of a plot and this is kind of more of a drabble than a one-shot. But I was struggling to write anything else so this is what my brain wanted to think about tonight

WARNINGS: Implied smut, maybe cockwarming? (not sure if that's the right label for what happens here.)

WORD COUNT: 1,116

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The room was steeped in warmth, the kind that only came from the perfect combination of love and passion. The soft hum of the ceiling fan mixed with the distant sound of crickets outside the window, creating a soothing backdrop to the slow return of your breaths. Tyler was beneath you, his broad chest rising and falling steadily as your own heartbeat began to settle. He’d only been home an hour, but already, it felt like the days apart had been nothing more than a distant memory.

You lay sprawled over him, your body molded to his like it belonged there—because it did. His arm rested lazily above his head, his fingers occasionally flexing against the pillow. The other was anything but idle, his roughened palm drawing a lazy path up and down your spine. His touch was featherlight yet deliberate, the tips of his fingers brushing over every curve, every dip of your body like he was memorizing you all over again.

Neither of you spoke at first. Words weren’t necessary—not yet. The moment was too raw, too precious to break with conversation. He was still buried deep inside you, his body unwilling to part from yours. You felt his heartbeat against yours, steady and sure, as if tethering you to him.

"You okay, darlin’?" His voice was soft and gravelly, thick with exhaustion and satisfaction.

You nodded against him, your cheek resting against the firm plane of his chest. "More than okay," you murmured, your words muffled but still clear enough to make him chuckle.

"Good." His hand slid into your hair, fingertips massaging gently at your scalp. "I missed you so much. Felt like I was out there forever this time."

It wasn’t the first time he’d been gone chasing storms, but this week had felt especially long. His absence left an ache in your chest, one you hadn’t realized had grown so deep until he was back and holding you like this.

"Me too," you admitted softly, your lips brushing against his skin. You felt the way his body shifted beneath you, his arm tightening around your waist like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” he finally murmured, his deep voice a low rasp that sent a ripple of heat through you. His words came with a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

You nuzzled into the curve of his neck, your lips brushing against his pulse. He tipped your head back slightly, just enough so his gaze could find yours in the dim light of the room. His green eyes, flecked with golden warmth, held a look so tender, it nearly stole the breath you’d just regained.

"I thought about you every night," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. "Every damn minute. You don’t even know what you do to me."

His free hand began its slow path down your back again, fingertips trailing over the curve of your spine. When he reached the small of your back, he paused, pressing his palm flat against your skin and holding you there. 

"This," he said softly, "this right here is what I needed."

A flush rose to your cheeks, and Tyler’s lips curled into a soft smile as he felt the heat of it against his neck. 

“There it is,” he teased, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made your heart stutter. "That blush I love so much."

He shifted slightly beneath you, his arm tightening around your waist as he pressed you impossibly closer. You could feel every inch of him, the heat of his body wrapping around you like a blanket. He didn’t stop touching you, his hand tracing slow, deliberate paths that left trails of goosebumps in their wake.

“You feel so damn good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, then down to the corner of your mouth. “I swear, nothing else compares. Nothing else even comes close to having you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he beat you to it, his lips capturing yours in a slow, searing kiss that left no room for doubt about how deeply he meant every word. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

“Stay with me like this a little longer,” he said softly, his hand coming back up to cradle the nape of your neck. “I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

His fingers trailed down your spine again, his touch firmer this time, as if grounding you both in the moment. His lips found the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he continued in a hushed voice that sent shivers racing through you.

“I missed you so much,” he said, his tone rougher now, edged with the kind of desire only he could make feel like a promise. “And I’m not done with you. Not even close. I want you again, sweetheart. Over and over.”

His words made heat bloom low in your belly, and you couldn’t stop the way your body shifted against his. Tyler’s hand on your waist tightened, holding you still as his eyes darkened. 

"Easy, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "We’ve got all night. No need to rush."

He let his hand drift lower, tracing the curve of your hip before sliding back up to the small of your back. 

"I’m gonna show you just how much I missed you," he whispered, his lips grazing your jawline. "Gonna make sure you feel it—every inch of it."

You shivered as his words washed over you, his breath warm against your skin. He shifted beneath you, his body a comforting weight as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I love you," he said softly, the words catching you off guard even though you’d heard them before. There was something different in the way he said it now, like it wasn’t just an expression but a vow.

Your heart swelled, and you leaned up just enough to kiss him again, pouring every unspoken feeling into the connection. He responded in kind, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough, like he was memorizing every curve and dip.

The world outside didn’t matter—not the storms he chased, not the time apart, not anything but the two of you in this moment. In his arms, you felt it all: desired, cherished, and deeply, irrevocably loved.

And as the night stretched on, Tyler made good on his promise, showing you again and again just how much you meant to him.

[qingxin-dream]

“My Sweet Angel”

summary | months of repressed feelings bubble to the surface one night, but you’re fast asleep while wanderer is lost in his own thoughts secretly pining for you. but, uh…pining might be an understatement. (art credits: @/1eternalstar on twitter).

warnings | wanderer is down so bad, obsession, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader, somnophilia, aphrodisiac/drugging, masturbation, edging/orgasm denial, oral f!receiving, bondage, temperature/element play, worship, slight degradation/praise, creampie

genre | pure, filthy smut (happy kinktober!🎃)

word count | 2.8k

pairing | wanderer x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

A small, breathless gasp ripples through the silence of the night. The sound of crickets and cicadas is but a low roar in the background, barely enough to mask the melody of your traveling companion’s sweet, subdued moans. Merely a foot away is your sleeping form, quietly snoozing with your pretty lashes resting on your cheeks. Your silhouette is ethereal, like an angel banished from heaven finding solace in the moonlight with her wings tucked safely away.

Wanderer’s attention ceaselessly gravitated toward you. It seemed to be a natural reaction. Instinctual, even. He admired you with the deepest devotion, seconds turning into hours. There was a part of him, something long buried and locked away, which surfaced in his chest like a breath of fresh air.

Your hair cascades perfectly over your shoulders, framing the soft shape of your face. Your rosy lips part in a faint sigh. The occasional incoherent mumble of your dreams causes his ears to perk up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what your little fantasies are made of. Your exposed stomach when you roll over with a groan and the magnetic curve of your legs make his eyes darken with lust.

Archons, he had way too much time in his hands every night. Thankfully you were blissfully unaware that puppets didn’t need any sleep.

He cursed to himself between sharp, ragged intakes, his needy violet eyes reflecting the luminescence of the moon, raking over your curves with a carnal glint. Looking back, he had all the opportunities in the world to stop that nagging desire churning within his chest.

But Wanderer was selfish. Once he got a taste of your affection, consider him a starved man.

His thoughts about you would twist and tangle his emotions until it utterly choked him of any sensibility. Love and lust are more than just a slippery slope. The puppet was free-falling in the abyss of your pheromones. The best part is you were completely clueless to these intimate escapades of his.

Could you blame such a depraved, touch-starved puppet?

The nights all seemed to blend together like this. Waiting patiently for you to snore gently before he let his fingers ghost your figure, assuring him that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. One hand would devote itself to exploring every bit of skin you had to offer while the other palmed the growing bulge in his shorts.

Like a moth to a flame, he became utterly entranced with the glow of your skin beneath the moon. You are like a goddess laying beautifully upon your altar of silken bedsheets, awaiting the devout worship of his soft prayers and saccharine lips.

His fingers grazed your shoulder, trailing down your arm and leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. He let his hand mesh carefully into the dip of your waist, imperceptibly squeezing it just enough to fan the flames of his imagination. He was in another dimension entirely, wishing for the day you’d beg for his touch.

Wanderer takes his lower lip between his teeth harshly, dipping his hand beneath his shorts to tug the tip of his thick cock with growing fervor. Precum had already wet the slit of his tip, lubricating each teasing thrust of his hand over his dick. Meanwhile, he continued his journey down the round, plump curve of your hips.

Hips that were meant for childbearing.

He takes a fistful of your nightgown momentarily as his cock aches in his hand, yearning for release so soon. For fuck’s sake, why is the image of you bred full with his seed so goddamn hot?

His movements came to an abrupt halt at the lacy end of your little nightgown. He had to know what you were wearing beneath that silky dress. The idea of making a mess all over your cute panties, covering them generously in his cum, only edged him further. Or, even better, he’d love to fuck his creamy load all over your drenched folds before sliding back in for another round.

Wanderer had to make a concerted effort to reel in his filthy daydreams, struggling to keep his hands from trembling on you. He managed to slip the nightgown higher and higher up your smooth thighs, a lump quickly forming in the puppet’s throat.

He’s not sure if he could handle seeing you so vulnerable without ripping your clothes off and fucking you to his heart’s content right then and there. No, no, no... After all this endless waiting and pining for many torturous months, he couldn’t ruin this with a fleeting moment of insatiable want. He pauses, collecting himself for a brief moment.

The puppet’s pupils dilated into pools of audacious desire upon seeing the dainty black undergarments hugging your plush hip. It was lacy with a beautiful floral design, enrapturing his gaze all the way down to your cunt. Wanderer couldn’t help himself, reaching out subconsciously to brush his thumb against your clit through your panties.

“I wanna fuck you so bad… so bad,” he whispers, his voice just an octave higher with desperation as he continues to fist his throbbing cock. The friction of his hand isn’t enough. It couldn’t come close to the immaculate sensation of your slick pussy enveloping his cock, dragging the tip slowly from your clit to your fluttering, empty hole. But that would be insane, he couldn’t.

You didn’t seem to move a muscle in response to his touch. Meanwhile, Wanderer is struggling like a fool to restrain himself, it is almost comical. He could feel his impending orgasm, forcing his hand to slow down with longer, more intermittent strokes to stop from practically bursting at the seams.

Eventually, he found the courage to nudge the cloth of your black panties aside, revealing your pretty little pussy lips glistening with need. The puppet’s violet irises swirl with power, nearly drunk on the mere thought of pleasuring you in secret like this. Why else would you wear such a sexy little garment for him?

A dull, burning sensation coated his lungs as his thumb nestled into your bare clit, resolving himself to carefully lean down and relieve his parched throat with a kitten lick of your folds. It was a miracle that you hadn’t stirred in your sleep too much, yet the part of him reckless with lust wanted you to wake up while he was tongue-deep in your cunt. He dived between your labia again with his mouth, exhaling a soft, guttural moan into your hole after another good lick.

“Mm, so fucking good… I know you fucking like this, baby,” Wanderer mumbles, wrapping his arms around your hips to secure you in place as he freely drags his tongue across your folds and clit skillfully, placing an occasional kiss here and there. Your thighs subconsciously tense with pleasure.

Had he known you would taste so divine, he would’ve devoured your pussy a long time ago. Shifting slightly so that he could lay completely on his stomach, Wanderer eagerly laps at your cunt and fucks his leaking cock into the mattress. Shit, it is too easy for him to lose sight of himself and tug at your hips possessively, not hesitating to fuck you messily with his tongue.

It’s when he got a little too hasty slurping on your pussy with a particularly lascivious moan that you grumble in your sleep. Wanderer freezes, peering over your pelvis like a predator defending his prize with a piercing violet glare.

There is no way you could possibly wake up. Not now. Not when he’s so close. He deduces that the twitch in your sleep must be from that little aphrodisiac he slipped in your evening tea with him. The puppet had made a nice concoction of tasteless drugs to keep you both asleep and all sensitive just for him.

Wanderer is confident that his potion had its intended effect, but just in case—with a flick of his wrist, he ties your hands together on the headboard with a cool, pressurized ring of Anemo energy. He towers over you, a giddy smirk spreading across his lips seeing you so helpless to his desires.

He had read that cute pocket diary of yours gushing over him like he’s your high school sweetheart, don’t worry. You both know these feelings are mutual. But let’s be honest, he’d much rather you gush on his cock over and over until your pussy can’t take it anymore. And you’ve been dreaming about it too, he’s seen it with his own eyes.

Positioning himself between your legs, the puppet slaps his thick cock on your stomach, measuring it up to your belly button where his pink tip mushrooms. There’s no question that his dick would bottom out inside your walls, maybe if he’s lucky he could see his thrusts bulge in your lower stomach. He’d love to pound you deep enough to truly bury his cum inside you, plugging it with his pulsing cock until he’s sure you’re nice and bred.

No, no, he reminds himself again. He has to savor his time with you—make love to you like you rightfully deserve. There will be plenty of opportunities to fuck you senseless later, despite how badly he wants it now.

The tip of his cock trails down to your folds, tucking his length under your panties. Using one hand to guide his cock against your soaking core, the other rests on your inner thigh as he grinds against you slowly. Wanderer grits his teeth at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath and brushing his thumb lovingly against your sensitive inner thigh. It’s everything he’s ever imagined and more.

He’s forced to bite his knuckles, nearly choking on his own pathetic whines of pleasure. His thrusts grow faster, using your lingerie to keep his cock pressed firmly between your folds.

His words are a ravenous, hoarse whisper, begging you in your sleep. “Shit, shit, shit, you’re gonna make me cum…! Can I put it in? C-Can I please put it in?”

Wanderer knows what your answer will be, grinding sloppily on your drenched cunt while he grabs your breast. He wishes he could hear you say it. But he can feel the way your sweet little hole clenches around nothing every time his tip rubs your clit just right, and that’s enough for him.

It takes no effort to snap the thin straps of your lacy panties in haste, quickly tossing the garment aside indiscriminately. It’s too much, fuck, you look too perfect. Before he knows it, Wanderer pushes his tip inside your sopping entrance, gazing with wonder at how you suck him in like a good slut. Such a good fucking slut, hugging the first inch of his hard cock like you never wanted to let go.

Your spongy walls subconsciously react to his every motion, tightening around the puppet’s cock with unprecedented strength. He hisses, materializing a blue chained choker around your neck with his Anemo abilities and yanking you forward. His girth splits you apart, sliding inside your throbbing cunt inch by every tantalizing inch, until he can meet you halfway and kiss your whimpering, tender lips.

“Goddamn you,” Wanderer growls into the kiss, harshly biting onto your lip. He doesn’t draw blood, but tends to your bruised skin thereafter with a gentler, half-apologetic kiss. “You feel so fucking good, take me so fucking good… mm…”

His hips draw back, your walls noticeably empty in his absence. Snapping forward, his huge cock plunges into your depths with a delightfully lewd smack, causing him to chuckle under his breath. The puppet carefully lays you back on the pillow, planting his arms on either side of your head so that his vision is filled with only your beautiful face.

Once Wanderer begins to establish a rhythm, there’s no stopping him. Every drag of his veiny cock against your sensitive walls is utterly addicting, he had to come back for more and more. He moans and whines your name into your delicate little neck, taking the flesh into his mouth to suck and mark you as his own.

He is panting over you like an animal in heat. “I can feel you squeezing me, angel. I know you love it. ‘M gonna use that pretty little pussy of yours.”

Your body twitches beneath him as his lips leave no crevice untouched by his kisses or hickeys, a smattering of small red and purple blotches dotting your skin from your neck to your breasts. All the while, the puppet had to throttle his pace again, almost giving in to the ecstasy. You were definitely getting close too, he could feel it in the way you clenched around him greedily.

Swirling his tongue around your cute nipple, Wanderer suckles it briefly with a pop of his mouth, admiring his work on the canvas of your gorgeous body. He leaned back, hooking his hands under your calves to press your knees to your chest. If only he had a Kamera to capture the mesmerizing image of your legs spread so good for him with a perfect shot of your cunt wrapped around his tip.

He could tell this position had your walls enveloping his length even tighter than before, angling his cock deep towards that special spot inside you that would have your toes curling. “God, (Y/N), you look so fucking sexy like this.”

It is killing him—the sensation of your hole desperately clinging to the inch of his cock sheathed within you. The puppet keeps your legs pushed back and snakes a hand down to your clit once more, which had obviously been aching for attention. He’s lost in the contours of your folds all splayed out for him, so much so that he lets a globule of his spit drip over your clit to mix with your juices.

You are squirming slightly in your sleep from all the stimulation, but he doesn’t care. The euphoric feeling of teetering on the edge of an incredible orgasm has Wanderer stripped of any sense of reason. He nudges his cock halfway inside you at a delectably slow pace, reveling in your body’s subtle reactions to his teasing.

“Yeah, baby? You wanna fucking cum?” Wanderer whispers hotly over you, circling your clit faster. There’s already a delicious ring of your essence gathering at the base of his cock.

“Cum…” you mumble in a daze, your eyelashes fluttering open slowly. Your expression is contorted into a helpless plea, licking and biting your bottom lip as you sleepily notice his cock nestled between your thighs.

Wanderer’s eyes snap to yours in disbelief. You’re lucid, but asking for more. He begins to chuckle lowly, and reaches to caress your cheek. “You want it, hm? Speak up.”

He continues to fuck you at an excruciatingly slow pace, waiting patiently for you to beg for his seed. He wanted you in tears, squirting all over him like a good girl. Your moans encourage him to go deeper.

“Please, Wanderer,” you struggle to curl your fingers in his indigo locks under the effects of the drugs. “K-keep going, feels too good. Fill me up, please…”

“Like this?” The puppet smirks, forcefully thrusting his huge cock to the brim inside of you. He relishes in your lovely cries of pleasure and pain, swallowing them in a passionate kiss as he fucks you with reckless abandon.

You could barely hiccup a response, sloppily kissing back as Wanderer abuses your tight hole. He has you pinned against the creaky mattress, holding your face with his thumb on your chin to keep your mouth open. Every noise of ecstasy is his to claim and taste on your tongue.

“Mine, baby, all mine. Say it for me,” Wanderer moans, adoring the cock-drunk glimmer in your clouded eyes.

Squeezing your eyes shut suddenly, your eyebrows furrowed together as you suddenly felt your orgasm build at a rapid speed. You whined against the Anemo cuffs restraining your wrists above your head. “Yours! Oh my god, I’m yours. I’m gonna fucking cum, please, please give it me…!”

“Mhmm, yeah c’mon baby, lemme see you cum for me, so good for me, yeah?” he praises, kissing you roughly as he snaps his hips into you. It’s impossible to deny his insatiable need for you any longer, painting your walls white with spurts of his hot seed in a series of profanity-laden grunts.

Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm washes over you, legs trembling around him. The continuous twitch of his cock has you arching your back, taking every last drop of his cum until your cunt can’t hold any more. It leaks out, creaming your folds and his cock nicely.

Once you both catch your breath and lock eyes, you feel your cunt ache to be filled once more. Noticing how you trap him with your legs around his hips, Wanderer realizes the aphrodisiac must have been stronger than he anticipated.

You smile sweetly. “M-maybe one more?”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

[h2uji]

THE SMILE IS THE SHINNING SUN!! ‹𝖦𝖤𝖭𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖭 𝖨𝖬𝖯𝖠𝖢𝖳› 🐚

 ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  !دي الابتسامه شمس طالعه بالنهار

#pairing. Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Thoma, Zhongli.

#genre. F!reader, Fluff

#warning/note. i got carried away with zhongli and diluc oops

s/o with adorable cheek dimples

AYATO slowly flattered his eyes open, the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom. Hearing a tired giggle, his wife has a book on her hand, wrapping his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder. Her giggles turn into laughs once his lips and bangs brush on her neck. Ayato couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. Her dimples, which he found utterly captivating, were on full display, and he found himself mesmerized by them.

CHILDE gaze fell on the way she took her gloves off by her teeth from the tip of her index finger blowing her hot breath on her delicate fingers that redden due to the weather, fresh snow fell down from the clouds, gentle snowflakes filled the park falling directly at the small snowman that the couple finished building, stepping back she lowered her scarf just below her cheeks smiling, Childe's heart swelled with adoration. her dimples filled him with a warmth as if it was a cozy fireplace.

DILUC frowned his brows once he opened the door of the Dawn Winery Manor. He wasn't greeted by his wife's kisses, no, it was rather a small white hopping creature with brown spots on it. Looking around the house, he's trying to figure out how it entered the house?, unless someone brought it here, hearing a commotion coming from the stairs. Curious, he peeked, and there was the culprit holding three more bunnies to her chest, carefully making her way down the steps. Diluc couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his wife, he was usually so poised and put-together. One of the bunnies wriggled free and hopped across the floor. Diluc watched in amusement as she tried to catch it, her dimples appearing as she giggled. Diluc realized that he could never stay mad at his wife, not when her smile lit up the room and her dimples made him melt. 

ITTO could easily make his girlfriend laugh, she was always the cheerful, bubbly girl that he fell in love with. The way her eyes crinkle up when she finds something funny would immediately reflect the same smile on him. The easiest way is by telling her some jokes, which he is horrible at, but regardless, it does the job perfectly. Her melodic laughter filled the air as her dimples made an appearance. Itto beamed, feeling a surge of pride and affection for the woman he loves.

KAEYA grinned when he heard a soft gasp from her. Once his cold fingers started running up and down her sides, her much warmer hands grabbed each arm from each side, trying to stop him, but of course he wouldn't. She had been pouty all morning. He missed her adorable dimples that adorn her cheeks. She tried holding her laughter until she gave up and burst out laughing and squirming under him, revealing the special charm on each side of her cheeks.

THOMA carefully poured a cascade of colorful sprinkles over the freshly iced confetti cake, the scent of vanilla and sugar filled the kitchen, the blond gulped once she took the first bite. The tender warmth of the cake melts in her taste buds, the soft crunch of the sprinkles adds a sweeter flavor, a small smile that was enough to reveal her most attractive feature made his shoulders relax ,revealing the pure joy and warmth that radiated from within.

ZHONGLI sighed in delight once his back felt a comfortable position to sit, the warm present of his wife that laid her head on his shoulder, a cozy blanket wrapped around them, The sound of gentle running water filled the air, as well as the night cricket singing, not in an annoying way but rather calming. The gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, and Zhongli couldn't help but steal glances at his beloved as she gazed up in awe. The way the moonlight danced across her features, accentuating the delicate dimples that graced her cheeks, captivated him. He longed to reach out and trace the curves of her smile, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.

©h2uji⋅ Please do not repost my work ⋅ or translating it in any other platform

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@holaxd43 @ashwaffley @katsukihair23

[bookished]

( a collection of summer is ending starters or dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post ♡ if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"The sun feels different today, like it’s saying goodbye."

"Every time the summer ends, I feel like the wind tries to tell me a secret, but I never quite hear it."

"Did you notice how the colors of the sunset have started to fade? It’s like the sky is getting ready for winter."

"The cicadas fell silent today. Do you think they know it’s the end?"

"The lake looks quieter now, as if it knows it’s time to sleep."

"I swear the shadows have gotten longer. It's like even they know the sun won’t be around much longer."

"I can feel the summer slipping through my fingers, like the warmth in the breeze is fading away."

"The ocean feels colder today, like it’s pulling away from the shore."

"The last of the fireflies are flickering out. I wonder if they know this is their last dance of the season."

"It smells different now, don’t you think? Like the earth is getting ready to sleep."

"The flowers are closing earlier each day. Do you think they know the season is ending?"

"I miss the sound of summer already. The air doesn’t hum like it used to."

"Do you feel it too? The way the light is softer, as if the sun is tired."

"The wind today feels like a memory, like it’s carrying the last whispers of summer."

"The days are shrinking. It’s like time itself knows summer is ending."

"The sunflowers have turned away from the light. It’s like they’ve already given up on summer."

"The sky feels higher now, like it’s pulling away from the earth."

"Every evening, the air smells a little more like autumn. Summer’s slipping through the cracks."

"The crickets sound different tonight, almost like they’re playing a slower tune."

"I saw the first fallen leaf today. It feels like summer is already a memory."

"Do you remember how we danced in the rain that night? It felt like the summer clouds were celebrating with us."

"We spent so many afternoons chasing the sun across the sky. Now it’s slipping away from us."

"Every time we went to the beach, the waves played with us, like they knew we only had a little time left."

"Remember when we stayed up all night, watching the stars? I think they burned brighter just for us."

"That bonfire on the last night of August… it felt like the flames were trying to hold onto the warmth of summer with us."

"I still hear the echo of our laughter from that day at the lake. Do you think the water remembers us?"

"We ran through those fields as if summer would never end. Now they look so still, like they’re waiting for us to return."

"The ice cream melted too fast, the sun set too late, and we never really noticed the days slipping away."

"Remember how the sand felt like it was alive beneath our feet, like it was trying to pull us deeper into the moment?"

"We spent the whole summer chasing sunsets, never catching one the same way twice."

"Do you think the fireflies miss us? They followed us through every twilight, lighting up our path."

"The nights were so warm, it felt like the stars were sitting with us, whispering secrets we’ll never remember."

"We picked so many wildflowers, I’m surprised the fields didn’t run out."

"The last picnic we had… the air was so sweet, like the wind had collected all the fun we’d had and wrapped it up in the breeze."

"We built sandcastles like they’d last forever. Now the beach looks so empty without them."

"We never needed clocks. The long days felt like they’d never end."

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[streetchicken]

It's been 40°C (roughly 104 in freedom numbers) the past 2 days and I don't have the energy to draw anything, so y'all are getting sadboy nikghost hours as my first attempt at a minific-

NikPriceGhost? Mostly NikGhost worried over Price :)

Trigger warning: No beta, we go down like the helo when Ghost's piloting.

It's probably early morning now. Or at least Nikolai assumes it's early morning. He hasn't had much grasp on time since providing ex-fil for 141 earlier that day, or yesterday or whenever it had been.

The mission was a bust. It wasn't anyone's fault in particular. Intel was false, the site had been armed and waiting in the dark for the two-man stealth team. It was supposed to be easy. A routine recon with Lieutenant Ghost and Captain Price leading the mission. A mission they seemed overqualified for. In and out. Like shadows in the night, gone before witnesses could even gasp a last breath.

Nik takes a long breath then dangles the cigarette between his fingers, tapping the ash into a metal bowl. The tip faintly glows, not even enough to light his fingers in the cover of dark. God it had been dark.

Nik could barely see as the two hauled into the Black Hawk. The only light provided by buttons, small screens and the pop of rifle bullets as they ricocheted off the hull. He didn't get a chance to see the state of them, focused more on maneuvering out of firing range. He thought everything would be okay. These are the two best members of Taskforce 141, unstoppable, бессмертный.

The next breath comes out shaky, curling into little puffs of frost. The city lights blinked idly, watching him, waiting for Nik to crack. The silence feels so loud. Nik slots a shaky hand over his eyes. He can still hear it.

Ghost's voiced trembled. That man never faltered. To hear him so uncertain. ебать, he nearly put the copter in a nosedive at that.

"Price was hit." Nik can still hear the echoes of it. "Nik, i's bad."

The cigarette finds it's way between Nikolai's lips again. The taste of cheap tobacco sticks to his tongue. He couldn't find his usual quality stuff when they landed at a hidden base just on the outskirts of some random city Nik couldn't care to remember the name of. In fact, he'd nicked this pack off Ghost first chance he could.

The cigarette slips from between the russian man's lips. His eyes snap up to find one of those very shadows at his side. Chist, Nik hadn't even heard Simon come out onto the balcony.

"I forget they call you the Ghost." Nik rumbles into the otherwise silent air. A face if bravado slipping on easily.

Simon scoots the custom balaclava up to the bridge of his nose. His skin basically glows under the moonlight with just how pale it is.

Like a ghost. Nik muses, realising the moniker isn't just for how silently Simon can move. "Can I have cigarettes back?"

Simon takes up the seat on the other side of the small patio sofa. He could almost curse the hotel for cheaping out on the chairs. "Can' sleep?"

Typical Simon, right to the point. Nik swallows the rock that settles in his throat. Suddenly he contemplates stealing it back from between Simon's fingers.

"John?" Simon continues, easily guessing the reason for Nik's silence.

He sighs in response and hangs his head between his shoulders. The cold does little to quell the burning behind thick black lashes.

Simon studies Nik from his perch on the seat, free arm lazily settling on the backrest behind Nikolai. The Russian's hair is pulled out from the usual slicked back look, baby curls fanning at his neck and around his ears. "Th' doc said 'e'll be olright."

"'Alright.'" Nick mimics the word, trying to dispel the images of Price so pale and lifeless in the gurney. "He was shot, Simon."

"And i' isn't the first time, Nik." Simon rebuttles in that even tone of his. Nik settles against that tone, using it to stay level. Simon finishes the thought. "And i' didn't hit anythin' vital."

The air went quiet again. Crickets and distant traffic set a gentle hum as their backdrop.

Nik opens his mouth, but struggles to find the words. They stick to his throat, ache like barbed wire. It hurt to admit what he was feeling, but if this didn't go anywhere he's afraid he'd pop.

"I can't- I can't lose him, Simon."

Simon lets the words settle in the night, allowing Nik a moment to collect his thoughts.

"He...you, I-" Nik's voice breaks. It cracks pathetically in the face of silence. His eyes burn with unshed tears. "Черт, извини."

He sits back and runs a hand over his eyes. Nik presses the pads of his fingers into his sockets in a desperate attempt at dispelling the tears. His breath is shaky, laboured. His ribs feel so small, pressing into his lungs, his heart.

Simon breath puffs out around the cigarette. He's close enough already, so his fingers find the curls at nape of Nikolai's neck. They thread through the stiffened strands then settle in the juncture where Nikolai's shoulder meets his neck. It makes Nik's body rattle with a barely-there shiver.

With a soft tug Nikolai came thudding down against Simon's shoulder, his face finding that space in the crook of the Brit's shoulder. Simon settles his hand around Nik's shoulder and adjusts to hold his weight.

And all at once Nik could find the courage to cry.

He hides his face from the city lights, keeping the tears private as they soak into Simon's shirt. There's no sound, no hiccuping, no sobs or wails. Just quiet tears and shuddery breaths.

And Simon lets him. He leans in closer, chasing off the cold and just holding Nik. He doesn't offer any words. No encouragement or soothing. Just quiet acceptance and a warm shoulder.

Suddenly the silence didn't feel so loud anymore.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi Kavi! I was hoping I could request prompts 24 an 81 with desi!reader and Oscar Piastri where like both of them are cricket fans and have like a playful rivalry?

Feel free to incorporate it as u want (IK it's a bit of a weird request) .

Take ur time and i hope u have a great day:)))

Pub Rivalry ☽｡⋆

Prompts: 24. “I could pick you out from a room full of thousands of people.” + 81. subtle protection

₊˚ෆ op x desi!reader ᯓ★

₊˚ෆ fluff ᯓ★

masterlist ☾☼

The pub was buzzing with energy, full of excited chatter and clinking glasses. A bunch of cricket fans had all gathered to watch the super-hyped match between India and Australia. You and Oscar had managed to score a table near the front, the best seats in the house—well, for those who actually cared about cricket.

Oscar was already in his Australian jersey, scanning the crowd as he spoke with a half-smirk on his face. "I can't believe we're doing this," he said, his tone amused, though his eyes remained glued to the screen. "You're gonna lose today, I just know it."

You laughed. "Oh, please. India's got this in the bag. You guys are just pretending to be competitive.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Pretending? You do know that Australia has one of the world's best cricket teams, don't you?"

You leaned in, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Well, someone has to support the underdogs."

Oscar laughed softly, clearly not fazed by your banter. "You're lucky I love you. Or else I'd be taking this way too seriously."

"Oh, I know. I could pick you out from a room full of thousands of people because you'd be the one sulking when India wins."

Oscar shot you a look. "You know that doesn't work on me anymore."

The match started, and the pub fell into a hushed silence as everyone focused on the screen. You and Oscar sat side by side, as was your wont, exchanging light jabs between sips of beer.

Australia's first over was quick and aggressive, and Oscar couldn't help but beam every time one of the Australian players made a good play. You, on the other hand, were practically bouncing in your seat every time India made a run. It was a sight to behold—your intense concentration and exaggerated cheers for every boundary.

This is it! This is the over!" you yelled, practically standing on your seat when an Indian player took a powerful swing. Oscar rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his smile as he glanced at you.

"You're impossible," he muttered, chuckling to himself.

And finally, after a few tense overs, you excused yourself to the bathroom. "Be right back! Don't get too cocky while I'm gone," you warned Oscar.

Oscar just waved you off, grinning. "Of course, of course. Hurry along; you don't want to be missed during the inevitable collapse of your own side!"

You flipped him off behind your back, and smiled when you heard his laughter.

The moment you vanished from view, Oscar turned back to the game, completely focused on the match. However, after a few minutes, he began to notice something: the crowd seemed different. People were shifting around, voices getting louder, but no sign of you. He looked around. No sign of your bright, beaming smile, no sign of your dramatic, loud cheers.

His eyes narrowed.

You had been away for merely a few minutes, yet Oscar didn't like that. There was a mild knot in his stomach as he pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning to find you.

Meanwhile, you'd become sidetracked by a scene of some Australians celebrating the wicket of an Australian when you didn't even notice it until you'd meandered over there joining in on the celebration. You were pushing through the crowd when your foot caught onto something-a stray chair leg-and suddenly, everything was tipping to one side.

"Oh, no—" you mumbled to yourself as you went tumbling forward, your arms flailing wildly as your drink went flying out of your hand.

Before you could hit the ground, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you, pulling you back up with a swiftness that made you blink in surprise.

"Careful there," Oscar's voice was low, full of both amusement and concern as he steadied you, his hands on your shoulders.

You looked up at him, your heart racing a little from the sudden stumble. "I—uh—I might've gotten distracted, just a little," you stammered, your face flushing in embarrassment. "And now my drink is definitely gone."

Oscar let out a small laugh, a playful glint in his eyes. "I see. Distracted by the crowd, were you?

You groaned, smoothing your clothes. "Totally. I was just trying to enjoy the match, and then—well, here we are."

Oscar shook his head fondly, his expression softening. "Well, I could have told you that the pub floor isn't a good place to practice your cricket swings." He gave you a little nudge, making sure you were steady on your feet.

"Hey!" you shot him a playful glare. "I didn't need you to be my personal bodyguard, okay? I'm perfectly capable of not falling flat on my face."

Oscar's smile softened. His voice dropped a little lower, filled with an affectionate warmth. "I'm just looking out for you," he said, his hand brushing your cheek as if reassuring you that he wasn't letting you out of his sight. "You're clumsy, but I've got you, always."

It made your heart skip a beat to listen to him speak, always making you feel safe even when you were being the clumsy self that you mostly were.

"Well, I wasn't planning on a somersault. But thanks for catching me," you said, a little softer now.

"No problem," Oscar said, and his grin was back on his face. "Just keeping my beautiful girlfriend from public humiliation." His words were laced with that teasing tone, but behind it was something protective. It warmed your heart.

You rolled your eyes, but secretly you were grateful. "I swear, you're the only person who's actually prepared for my clumsiness."

"Well, it's not a bad thing," he said with a sly smile, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "Keeps life interesting."

Before you could react, a deafening cheer went through the crowd—India hit a six, and you couldn't help but spring to your feet, forgetting all about the embarrassing fall you had made some minutes ago. Oscar retreated, but his hand reached up to the small of your back, urging you along as you leapt around with excitement, not letting you fall again. It was such a simple, protective gesture, but it made your heart flutter.

The match was nearing its end, and the banter between you two was endless. Even if you were supporting different teams, there was something playful about the competition that just made everything a little funnier.

"Well, at least you're not completely useless when it comes to cricket," Oscar teased, as you cheered another Indian run in. "But I still don't think they are going to win. Australia's just better.

You shot him a teasing grin, tapping your fingers on the table. "We'll see, Piastri. We'll see. Just remember, even if India loses, I'll still be able to claim victory in this pub rivalry."

Oscar smiled, his eyes softening as he watched you, the warmth between you two undeniable. "You really think that's how this works, don't you?

"I know you think you can win everything, but sometimes, it's not about who wins the match," you said, grinning. "It's about who can outlast the other in teasing and banter."

Oscar gave you a sidelong glance, his tone more playful than ever, but his voice dropped lower, his gaze softening. "Well, lucky for you, I'm good at both. But when you trip again, I'll be right here—ready to protect you from another graceful tumble." His fingers intertwined with yours, reminding you that he was always there.

You grinned back at him, shaking your head. "Let's just hope my cricket team doesn't disappoint before I do."

Oscar's eyes softened, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry. You'll always be the winner to me—clumsy or not."

The match ended, with Australia securing the victory, but it didn't matter to you. The real prize was how comfortable and loved you felt next to Oscar.

As you both stood up to leave, the crowd still celebrating the match's conclusion, you turned to Oscar with a grin.

"Alright, Piastri. You won this round," you said with mock reluctance, knowing full well that your playful rivalry wasn't ending here.

Oscar pulled you into a quick, warm hug; his arms wrapped around you protectively. "Don't worry, I'll let you win next time. But only if you promise not to fall over in public again."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, your voice soft as you replied, "Only if you promise to be there to catch me.

Oscar’s smile softened, and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be here. To catch you. and to win the next round of cricket, obviously.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You’ve got a deal, Piastri.”

The playful banter and rivalry were still alive but, in this moment, it was clear—there was nothing you'd rather do than share these little, perfect moments with him. And as long as he was by your side, even if you tripped and fell a hundred more times, you'd always feel like a winner.

𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

i'm shit at cricket, whether its knowing about the sport or playing it, but let me know if y'all like this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[amitcbtf]

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[wordingg]

Smells Like Teen Hormones

Summary: Charles just transferred to St. Hilarion's and sees the most beautiful boy across the lawn. Edwin Payne is the prima ballerino of St. Hilarion's dance program and a well known ice queen. But, it's not like something like that could stop Charles Rowland.

AN: I wrote this for deadboyween's free day, but got kind of stuck halfway through. This really deserves to be a lot longer and slower, but I just wanted to hit the scenes I thought was fun. I hope you enjoy it!

The first time Charles Rowland saw Edwin Payne, he almost tripped and fell on his face.

Charles had been aware when he got the sports scholarship to St. Hilarion’s that what it was well known for was its dance program. That had smarted a little bit, because Charles knew that if his skin wasn’t so dark and the type of dance that he practiced was something classy like ballet, he could have gotten a scholarship for his dancing. Instead, he got a scholarship for cricket, which wasn’t that bad as Charles sincerely liked cricket. But, it wasn’t dancing.

What Charles hadn’t realized when he transferred to St. Hilarion’s was that a dance program would have boys as well as girls. And not just fit b-boys like the boys who had been in his crew with him. No, beautiful posh boys with legs for days and porcelain skin who moved like water when they walked across the quad.

Charles stumbled and almost knocked over his new mate from the cricket team, Mark, who gave him a dirty look and shoved him back.

“Who the hell is that?” Charles breathed, not taking his eyes off the boy swanning across the grass in the center of a gaggle of small delicate girls.

Mark frowned in the direction that Charles was looking. “Who?” he asked, confused.

“That boy! The tall ballerina one!” Charles exclaimed, rudely pointing.

The boy turned and noticed Charles pointing at him and gave him such an offended look that Charles almost shriveled up like a prune.

Mark scoffed. “That’s Edwin Payne. The dance department falls all over themselves for him, but don’t bother trying to make friends. He’s a tosser, apparently.”

But, Charles wasn’t listening. The name Edwin Payne was ringing like a bell in his ears.

---

The next day, Charles went to find Crystal somewhere in the bowels of the art department. She was the only person he felt he could rely on to understand what he was going through. She was beautiful, and mean as shit, and probably his best friend in the world. Which was saying something because he had known her for about two weeks.

“Crystal, you have friends in the dance department, right?” Charles had asked, trying to find somewhere to lean that didn’t have paint all over it. If he ruined another uniform, he was pretty sure his dad would literally kill him.

“Yes, I am friends with the Japanese exchange student in our grade who is also in the dance department. Her name is Niko, Charles,” Crystal said in a long suffering tone as she tried blending in the blues on an oil painting it seemed like she had been working on for a week.

Charles winced. Based on her tone, she had probably told him a few times before, but he had forgotten. In his defense, he was neck deep in love.

“Right, the cute girl with the white hair. And, she’s in the dance department,” Charles forged on.

Sighing, Crystal gave up on her painting and turned to Charles. “Okay. What do you want?” she asked flatly.

“I think the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen in my whole life has class with her and will you pleeeeeeease introduce us?” Charles rushed out breathlessly.

Crystal stared at Charles. Charles tried to give her his best puppy dog eyes, the ones that made all the old ladies in his neighborhood coo and ruffle his hair.

“And you can’t just walk up to him and introduce yourself why?” Crystal asked incredulously.

“Because I think I would probably die on the spot,” Charles said seriously.

Crystal let her head tip back and let out an explosive sigh. “Fine!” she groaned.

Charles jumped up and punched the air.

“But, you owe me so many chocolate milks!” Crystal said, a threatening finger pointed at Charles. “I have no idea how you hustle the cafeteria ladies out of them, but I want in!”

“It’s my natural charm,” Charles said with a grin and then dodged the wet paintbrush that Crystal threw at him.

---

What Crystal set up was a study group with all four of them: Charles, Crystal, Edwin and Niko Sasaki, the Japanese transfer student.

“It’s basically impossible to fuck this up,” Crystal had told him firmly while Charles tried not to hyperventilate in the library bathroom ten minutes before their meet up time. “Just ask him to help you with your algebra with those big wet doe eyes and he’ll be done for.”

“But, what if I ask him for help with my algebra homework and he sees how hopeless I am and he’s disgusted?” Charles asked, pulling at his hair. Transferring from a public school to a private school had a lot of difficulties, but the sudden change in curriculum was by far becoming the biggest one for Charles. He didn’t think he was stupid, but he definitely was way behind all the other students who had been at St. Hilarion’s for years.

Crystal knocked his hands away from his head and grabbed his face in her terrifying claws, squishing his cheeks. She shook him a little and Charles flailed.

“Edwin Payne is the gayest gay boy that I have ever met in my life,” she said vehemently. “And you, Charles Rowland, are the most golden retriever shaped motherfucker in existence. If he doesn’t fall in love with you immediately, I’ll eat my fucking shoe.”

“Thanks, Crystal. You’re a real friend,” Charles said wetly.

“You’re damn right I am,” she said.

Then, the bathroom door opened and a boy yelped, “Hey, what! You’re not supposed to be in the boy’s-”

Crystal kicked the door shut with her big terrifying combat boots, nailing the boy in the nose. “Fuck off, terf!” she screamed.

Charles thought he loved her a little bit.

---

If Charles thought that Edwin was beautiful from across a crowded lawn, he was an idiot, because he was even prettier up close.

He was about as tall as Charles, but he was so lanky. He had these long arms and long legs, but all his limbs were under careful precise control at all times. His hands were pretty, pale with long manicured fingers, always carefully folded or deftly handling a pencil. His face was all long lines and flat planes, like someone had crafted him out of marble or something. Except his big dark eyebrows and thick dark lashes made him look incredibly alive, every small expression made louder by the twitch of his eyebrows.

Charles felt like an idiot the second he stepped into the room with him. His hands were immediately clammy with sweat and rubbing them on his trousers didn’t seem to resolve the issue. He kept stumbling over words and talking either too loudly or too softly. He lost count of how many times he dropped his pencil on the floor or knocked the table askew with his jittering knees. He felt like an oaf.

Crystal was looking at him like he disgusted her on a personal level. Charles didn’t know Niko very well, but the intense way her big sparkly eyes focused on him gave him the impression that she was enjoying whatever incredible meltdown he was experiencing.

For his part, Edwin seemed very confused by him. Charles couldn’t blame him. He knew he was acting like a bumbling idiot, primarily in Edwin’s direction. At one point, Edwin had asked him a direction question and it had startled Charles so much he literally threw his pencil across the room. If he hadn’t wanted to sink into the floor so much at that moment, he was pretty sure based on the acidic look that Crystal shot him she would put him there herself.

When the girls took a brief break to visit the bathroom and get them all some coffee, Edwin turned to Charles with a somber look. Charles gulped audibly.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable-” he started to say.

“Not at all!” Charles hurried to say.

“I know I can be somewhat unapproachable to people my own age,” Edwin continued.

“You’ve been aces, mate, really!” Charles insisted.

“I think it’s quite admirable that you are making an effort to improve your academics. If I made you feel any other way, I sincerely apologize,” Edwin said to his lap, looking a bit miserable.

Charles had no idea what Edwin was talking about. If he had insulted Charles accidentally during their study session, Charles had probably been too busy trying not to spontaneously combust to notice. All Charles knew was that he wanted to clear away this misunderstanding as soon as possible.

“It’s not that at all!” Charles said firmly, pressing his hand over both of Edwin’s, where they were folded primly in his lap. “It’s just that you’re proper fit and every time I look at you, I think I’m in danger of choking on my tongue a bit.”

Edwin’s eyes, previously trained on his lap, snapped up to Charles, wide and gray and beautiful. Charles stared back a little breathless. This was the closest he had been able to look at Edwin’s eyes and they were really pretty, like a pale gray, blue, green color. Charles couldn’t quite put his finger on an exact description.

Edwin’s face then flushed with color and belatedly Charles realized what he had said and his face heated, as well. Charles didn’t think he’d ever seen another bloke full face blush before. The pink went all the way down Edwin’s neck. Charles wondered how far down it went…

“Oh,” Edwin said faintly.

“Ah, sorry, that’s-” Charles fumbled, feeling all his awkwardness come back in a rush.

“No, it’s not-” Edwin mumbled, suddenly matching Charles’ stutter for stutter.

Crystal and Niko chose that moment to come back into the study room holding two steaming coffees each.

“Why does it smell like teenage hormones in here?” Crystal asked with a wrinkled nose.

“Did you guys have fun without us?” Niko asked in a sing song voice that might have been a lingering bit of accent or might have had to do with the sparkle in her eyes as she took in both of their flushed faces.

The two boys mumbled something and thanked the girls for their coffees and got back to studying quickly.

---

After the study group was over, Crystal and Niko waved goodbye and walked together toward the girl’s dorms. Charles and Edwin both hesitated on the front steps of the library.

“Hey would you-” Charles started to say at the exact time that Edwin spoke.

“It was very-” Edwin said, then stopped, both of them freezing with their mouths opening before stumbling over each other.

“Oh, so sorry, please go ahead.”

“Nah, mate. You go first.”

They both stumbled to a stop again and then fidgeted on the top step, not quite looking at each other.

Charles bit his lip and mustered his courage and asked, “Would you want to hang out this weekend?”

Edwin’s eyebrows went up. “With Crystal and Niko?” he asked slowly.

“If you want,” Charles said, keeping his face still so it wouldn’t show his disappointment.

But maybe he didn’t keep it still enough, because Edwin Payne was looking at him with all of his considerable focus.

“Would you want that?” Edwin asked. And his eyes were so odd and clear and he was looking at Charles and Charles couldn’t help but to tell the entire truth when Edwin Payne was looking into his eyes like that.

“I was wanting to take you on a date, to be honest,” he said with a lopsided smile.

And, oh, that blush was back and it looked even nicer in the fading sunlight than it had in the harsh fluorescence in the library.

“If that’s okay with you,” Charles hurried to tack on. He had never asked a boy out before. He very much didn’t want to embarrass or shock Edwin.

But, Edwin only smiled a small smile and said, “That would be quite alright with me.” Then he ripped a piece of notebook paper out of one of his many color coded spiral notepads he carried in his arms and scribbled something on it before holding it out to Charles. Charles took the paper curiously. “I look forward to it,” Edwin said awkwardly, then hurried down the steps and away across the grass.

Charles looked down at the paper in his hand. It had a phone number written across it in perfect handwriting.

Charles made good on his earlier statement and choked on his own tongue.