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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 3 days ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 6

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5

In the next letter, Eddie makes no comment about their differing opinions. Chrissy knew he wouldn’t. She doesn’t know Eddie, not really, but he’s never seemed like the kind of guy who’d stop talking to someone over such shallow, small differences, no matter how he comes off in his little cafeteria rants.

Secret Admirer,

You’re enough, just the way you are, brown eyes and all. I bet they’re real pretty. I could look into them for hours, mesmerized by every color differentiation, spend days counting every one of your eye lashes.

Just say the word—I’ll pick you up in my van and we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time. I’ll wear my silver jewelry, and you can wear gold. I bet your hands would look real pretty wrapped up in mine.

I’ll be a gentleman, sweetheart, I swear.

Only the best for you.

Yours,

Eddie

P.S. Romantic meeting spot. I can’t wait to put this note right next to your heart. Next time maybe I can put my letter in Moby Dick. After all, you’re my white whale, baby, I’m always looking for you.

She likes Eddie, really she does, but the way Steve blushes as he hands the letter to her is ridiculous. The guy’s not exactly smooth, or suave, or any of the things that should leave Steve all hot and bothered.

Still, she dutifully helps him write his reply:

Eddie —

Maybe someday, we’ll get to go to that movie. When we do, you don’t have to be a gentleman at all—I’m easy, if it’s for you, and it would be such a waste not to make use of all that space in your van.

I don’t have any rings, but if I did, I think I’d want one of yours. That way, whenever I look down at them, I’d be reminded of you.

How was your day? All I want to do is ask and hear your reply.

Yours, always

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. I’ll search the seas for you.

“I know he’s your friend, but I just don’t get it,” Chrissy says to Jeff, walking close enough to his side that their shoulders brush. “The guy looks like a mangy poodle, and he’s not exactly Shakespeare.”

Jeff snorts. “Hey, he’s at least a cute mangy poodle,” he replies, bumping their shoulders purposefully this time.

“I guess if you’re into that sort of thing,” she mutters, and somehow, Steve is. It still shocks her, sometimes, when she thinks about it too much.

“The heart wants what it wants,” Jeff says, sounding wise, but when she glances at him, he’s grinning, eyebrows jumping up and down at her like this is all just some joke.

She scoffs, “I just wish what Steve wanted wasn’t leading toward a broken heart.”

Jeff’s expression drops at that, mouth pursing. He’s quiet all the way to Eddie’s locker. She slips Steve’s letter between the slats and keeps walking, only stopping when she realizes Jeff’s no longer beside her. When she turns around, he’s staring at Eddie’s closed locker like it holds the answers to the universe.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, finally turning back toward her and catching back up with quick strides.

Chrissy doesn’t respond, at a loss for what to say. She can’t see it, but for all the letters she’s helped write, her and Eddie aren’t friends. She doesn’t know him as well as Jeff, who’s been by his side for years, or even as well as Steve, who watches him every chance he can get.

“Yeah, maybe,” she replies, unwilling to let any hope build, not when it’s Steve’s heart on the line. “Want a ride home?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jeff replies.

And when he slides into her passenger seat, she feels a little less alone.

The letters keep coming, and Steve keeps blushing and pushing them across the table at her.

Secret Admirer,

Oh, a flirty one, aren’t you? I like it. But maybe I’m shy, did you ever think about that? Maybe I want to walk you to your door, slide one of my rings on your finger, and give you a little kiss. You can pick the ring, baby—I’ll even resize it to fit you just right.

My days are always brighter when I hear from you. I go to the quarry on Wednesday’s to peddle my wares, but all I want to do is go home and play my guitar (my sweetheart). I’m writing a new song and I really want to get it down by next week’s practice, but I’m stuck on a riff I just can’t get right.

Do you play any instruments?

Sincerely,

Eddie

P.S. You’re going to make me swoon, babygirl.

And Steve keeps responding using Chrissy’s pen and Chrissy’s brain, and his own bleeding heart.

Eddie —

My mom made me take piano lessons when I was little, but my dad refused to keep paying for them. I didn’t want to at first, but I really liked it. Maybe I’ll brush up my skills so I can play a song for you. Any requests?

Does your band play anywhere? I remember you from the middle school talent show, are you still going by Corroded Coffin? I bet you look hot when you play—I want to see it, someday. Your rings would glint under show lights, hypnotizing the entire audience. Especially me.

Did you figure out your riff? I’m waiting with bated breath.

Sincerely,

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. leave this one in The Taming of the Shrew.

She wants to build a cage and lock him inside, or shake him and shake him until he sees what a risk he’s taking. Jeff might not see it, his priorities are different. But her first concern is Steve, always will be Steve, whose heart isn’t the only thing on the line. And she can feel it coming—the moment, inevitably, when this whole thing falls to pieces.

Secret Admirer,

Have you read this play? It’s not the romantic story you think it is. Since you’re already holding the book, why not check it out? I promise not to look at the checkout card to figure out who you are (I say, unrepentantly lying).

My band actually just got our first gig at the Hideout. It’s next Tuesday, and you should come! I would love to see you in the audience, cheering me on. I’ve been trying to respect your boundaries, but darling, I want to see you. Will you come? Please?

Thinking of you, always,

Eddie

Chrissy doesn’t want to stand by and watch Steve Harrington break.

***

Part of Eddie wonders if he won’t get another letter—if she’ll just show up at the Hideout next Tuesday with a smile. Still, when he hasn’t received an answer for a couple days, he checks if anyone’s checked out The Taming of the Shrew, but no, it’s still there, nestled on its shelf in the library, Eddie’s damning letter no longer inside.

He’s starting to wonder if he made a terrible mistake.

It’s happenstance, the way he finds out. He could have just as easily not forgotten his campaign notes. He could have been prepared, and not left all his little sheep moaning and groaning about what amounts to a five minute delay, if he’s quick about it.

He could have, but he didn’t.

Instead, Eddie stands at the end of the hall, transfixed, as he watches Chrissy Cunningham’s distinctive high ponytail sway back and forth as she walks away. From his locker. Where he just saw her slip something in.

She’s well out of sight before Eddie walks up to the looming hunk of metal on shaky legs. It takes three tries to get it open, and there, for all and sundry to see, is an envelope with his name written in a familiar scrawl.

He doesn’t open it.

“What took so long?” Doug gripes as Eddie shuffles back into the room, clutching his notebook to his chest.

Eddie walks slowly to his throne without replying, eyes still unfocused and fixed on the swishing of Chrissy’s hair.

“Are you okay?” Jeff asks.

Eddie shakes the thoughts out of his head, leans back on his throne, and smiles. “Sometimes a quester is besieged on his travels and must defeat a mighty foe before he can return from whence he came.” He says it with all the gravitas of his dungeon master voice.

Doug laughs, Gareth rolls his eyes, but Jeff’s eyes are narrowed on his face for the next ten minutes until he gets sucked into the campaign. And Eddie? Eddie’s heart isn’t in it. No matter how determined he is to put it out of his mind, it keeps sticking to his neurons.

Because Chrissy? She’s nice, sure. And pretty, definitely. Her hair’s…nice? Bouncy? It’s probably soft. And yeah, she’s a jock, but she’s not like most of them—too kind to give a kid a swirly or call any of the other girls fat.

Which brings him to the King of the jocks, Steve Harrington, whose name is practically branded on Chrissy’s shoulders by this point, whose arm is pretty much super-glued around her waist. Steve, with his perfect hair, and long eyelashes, and those big brown eyes, and all those muscles.

Something too squirmy to be hatred sinks in his gut. Jealousy, maybe? Because how could someone like him compete with King Steve for a lady’s hand, love notes or no?

He’s distracted for the rest of the campaign, says half-hearted goodbyes to the boys before finally closing the van door on them and driving away.

When he opens the letter in the safety of his bedroom, it’s shorter than usual:

Eddie —

There’s nothing more I want than to see you up on that stage, rocking out, in your element, but I’m just not ready. I hope you’ll forgive me.

Yours,

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. If you still want to respond, I’ll look in the big print edition of The Hobbit.

He goes over the words again and again, finger running along the lines of each character, trying to picture Chrissy pouring over them with her pen. He loves all the words in all the letters, wants to carve them all on his skin, helplessly charmed by each vulnerability shared.

He can’t quite make the words fit the girl.

Eddie still drops his next reply in the big print edition of The Hobbit the next morning. He watches Chrissy all day. He’s surprised, somehow, when she meets his eyes once across the insurmountable distances between them in the lunchroom. She ducks her head immediately and blushes, even with Harrington’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

There isn’t another note by the end of the day.

“So, wait,” Gareth says, stoned out of his mind and sprawled out on Eddie’s bed after the hell they call education finally released them. “You’re saying Chrissy has been leaving you all those notes?”

Eddie spins around in his desk chair, but it’s not one of those fancy wheeled ones that Harrington probably has, so he’s forced to turn and straddle the back, letting his head hang over the headrest as he groans.

“For the last time, yes!” he says, more to the little bits of his carpet that he can see than to Gareth himself. “It’s Chrissy!”

Gareth takes another hit, blowing smoke toward Eddie’s ceiling to swirl around and join the rest of the stains up there. “Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looked like her? How close to her were you?”

Eddie groans again, shuffles off his uncomfortable chair to flop beside Gareth and steal his joint back. “She was wearing a cheerleading uniform, man,” he says before taking a puff and letting all the smoke out with his next words. “And no one else on the team has that color hair.”

Gareth hums, twisting on his side to burrow his head into Eddie’s only pillow. “What is that color even? Like, blond but with a weird red in it? What’s it called, bluh-red?”

He laughs like that’s the funniest joke in the world, so Eddie doesn’t hand back the joint, just pulls on it until he’s down to the quick and ashes it on his nightstand as Gareth whines.

“It’s strawberry blond, you idiot.”

Gareth wrinkles his nose at that. “That’s a stupid name.”

Eddie smacks his hand out, lets it hit Gareth’s arm with a solid thwack. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”

“With what?” Gareth replies, rolling away from Eddie when he goes to hit him again. He ends up on Eddie’s floor, fall cushioned by all of his dirty clothes scattered about. “Just like, talk to her?”

“Chrissy Cunningham?” Eddie demands. Gareth doesn’t seem to be understanding the severity of the situation. “Whose head cheerleader and, oh yeah, dating Steve Harrington?”

“So what? The guy’s a douche,” Gareth replies.

Instead of getting back up on the bed, he snuggles further into Eddie’s dirty clothes, rolling around like a pig in a mud puddle until he’s got enough of Eddie’s discarded shirts on him to function as a makeshift blanket.

Harrington is a douche. He’s got to spend an obscene amount of time on his hair in the morning, and he hangs out with those hyenas on the basketball team all the time, and he’s Steve Harrington. Rich kid, lady killer, King Steve Harrington.

Maybe all Chrissy really wants is an excuse to leave him. If that’s what his lady wants, he will provide.

***

Steve’s been sitting on Eddie’s letter for a few days now, at a loss for what to say. He puts it under his pillow at night, hoping the perfect answer will come to him in his dreams. He finds himself unfolding it and refolding it again and again, wondering if the words will change.

Darling,

If you’re not ready, that’s okay. But the heart wants what it wants, and you can’t blame me for trying, can you? Even still, I’ll be singing just for you.

Of course I still want your letters, never doubt that. They’re still, always, forever, the best part of my day.

Always,

Eddie

P.S. Excellent choice in hiding places, have you read it?

It’s just, a big part of him had expected Steve’s dismissal of meeting up would end this thing they have. He’d braced for it, and instead, Eddie was sweet.

And Steve can’t give him what he wants, isn’t what he wants, so he keeps the letter with him and stews on it, Chrissy sending him worried looks when she thinks he’s not paying attention.

No matter how lost in thought he is, a part of him is always tuned into Eddie’s presence, so he sees him coming before Chrissy does.

“Miss Cunningham,” Eddie says, leaning forward like a gallant knight as he takes her small hand in one of his own. She jumps, eyes darting up from her lunch to meet Eddie’s own. “Can I have this dance?”

The rest of the lunch table titters. It might have been charming, if they were at a dance, or anywhere aside from shoehorned to the side of the table with all of Steve’s shitty friends laughing.

It might have been charming if Eddie’d looked at Steve at all.

Chrissy’s sure looking at him, though—eyes all wide in her face as she shifts her gaze back and forth from Steve sitting across from her to Eddie crouched at her side.

“Um—” is all she gets out before Jason stands from the far end of the table and starts taking threatening steps forward.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Freak?” Jason demands, chin raised.

Steve’s about ready to stand, insert himself in the whole thing, but then Eddie’s lips graze Chrissy’s hand.

Jason stumbles back like he’s been shot. Eddie grins against Chrissy’s skin, turns his gaze away from Jason, and lands on Steve. He can almost feel it on his own skin as Eddie puckers his lips again and presses another kiss to Chrissy’s skin, this time to the smooth surface of her wrist.

He never looks away from Steve.

“Um!” Chrissy says again.

Only then does Eddie break eye contact with him. He drops Chrissy’s hand, placing it gently back to the table, says, “until next time, mi amore,” and saunters away, continuing until he’s out of the cafeteria entirely.

Steve doesn’t look away until the door swings shut and blocks his view of Eddie entirely.

“What was that, Chrissy?” Jason demands. He’s moved closer while Steve was distracted, absolutely towering over her, looking more like a beleaguered father than an ex. “First Harrington, and now the Freak?”

Steve wants to defend himself, defend Eddie, defend Chrissy. But despite what Jason clearly thinks, she’s never needed defending, so he asks, “do you want to get out of here?”

“God, yes,” Chrissy sighs.

They leave their lunches uneaten and their tables unbussed, hustling out the same doors Eddie’d just sauntered through, leaving a scolding Jason in their wake. Something about devil worship and blaspheming?

Steve’s not exactly the church-going type; he’s just glad when the doors swing shut and cut off Jason’s little speech.

“What was that?” Chrissy asks in a whisper despite the deserted corridor.

“Jason?” Steve asks at his normal volume. “I don’t know, he’s always been a bit like that, hasn’t he?”

“Not Jason,” Chrissy snaps, slapping at Steve’s arm, taking any sting out of the motion by wrapping her arm in his after and reeling him right back in. “Eddie!”

Steve, who had sort of been hoping that he could pretend the whole thing had been a vivid hallucination, has nothing to say.

“Do you think he knows?” she asks, voice quiet again as she looks furtively around the deserted halls, for random passerby’s or even Eddie himself.

“About you?” Steve asks, stomach sinking even further when he continues, “or about me?”

Chrissy stumbles, eyes going impossibly wider at the thought. She pulls him into an abandoned classroom and pushes him into one of the uncomfortable chairs. She sits in front of him, looking across the desk between them like he’s a sad woodland creature she’d just hit with her car.

“He can’t know about you,” she says. “He was flirting with me.”

Steve grimaces. Chrissy’s too nice, always thinking the best in people like she doesn’t have Jason Carver as living, breathing proof that sometimes, beyond all expectations, people can suck.

“He could be fucking with me. Eddie seems like the type to play with his food.” Steve stares down at the grooves of the desk he’s seated in. Someone had carved FUCK on it in big, bold letters. Steve’s never agreed with a sentiment more. “Do you think Jeff told him?”

Chrissy shakes her head so hard that her ponytail whacks her in the face. “No way, he promised!” she reminds him.

Jeff seems like a good guy, but Steve’s not sure how far that goes. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to trust like that, not with this.

“Well, what do we do?” Steve asks. “Should you just flirt back next time?”

Chrissy bites her lip, worrying at the dry skin there until Steve taps her chin in reminder, and she puts her teeth back in her mouth.

“Maybe it won’t happen again?”

Steve sighs, thunking his head down against the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmurs into the wood, Chrissy’s hand patting his shoulder a paltry consolation to the nightmare he’s found himself in.

***

It happens again.

“Carry your books, my lady?” Eddie asks. He’s already got his hands out expectantly, but he’s too much of a gentleman to make a move without her say-so.

She watches his hopeful grin for a moment before sliding her pile of books into his awaiting arms. Once secured, he does an endearing little fist bump before taking up residence at her side like it's his birthright.

“What are you doing, Eddie?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” he asks, almost sounding clueless enough to convince her, if it wasn’t for that little smirk on his lips.

Everyone in the hallways are giving them a wide berth, clearly shocked by the unexpected pair. It’s nice, almost, to be given so much space. But—

But.

“You know I’m with Steve, right?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie grimaces, like just hearing Steve’s name is enough to sour his mood. “What, is it illegal to walk a pretty girl to class now?” he asks.

Chrissy’s own mood sinks to the pits, and she sighs, disappointed. “No,” she replies before letting the silence between them linger uncomfortably.

Eddie’s fidgeting with her books, anxious fingers fluttering against the loose pages of one of her notebooks, and his eyes dart toward her every couple of seconds.

“Chrissy—”

“You know, for someone who spends so much time ranting about the status quo, you sure can’t seem to look past skin deep.”

Eddie jerks like she struck him. Chrissy would feel bad if she wasn’t thinking about having to tell her best friend about this in a couple hours. “I see you,” he murmurs, shifting on his feet and not meeting her gaze as he holds out her books for her to take.

When Chrissy sighs, he flinches again. “I don’t think you do,” she says, not sticking around to see how it lands.

She’s got class to get to, and a best friend’s heart to break.

Chrissy snags Steve’s hand before he can walk through the cafeteria’s swinging doors and pulls him the other way. They settle into the same, abandoned classroom in the same, abandoned seats.

“It happened again,” she says, not letting go of Steve’s hand.

He’s still got a bit of polish clinging to his nails, the chipped yellow making him look almost jaundiced with how patchy it is. She uses her own fingernail to chip at it, ignoring the sunshine yellow flakes dropping down to the empty desk separating them.

Steve doesn’t ask what happened again; he doesn’t need to.

“Did you flirt back?” he asks.

Chrissy bites her lip. “I let him carry my books.”

She hadn’t flirted, is the thing, but she hadn’t gotten rid of him either. She knew, no matter how heartbroken he looks across from her right now, he wouldn’t have wanted her to.

“Okay,” he says, like it really is, like he means it. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me!” she snaps, snatching her hands back for a second before the bewildered look on his face has her reaching out again. “What are you thanking me for?”

Steve smiles—it’s small, and sad, and he’s beaming it right into her soul. “For keeping me safe.”

Chrissy groans, dropping her head onto their clasped hands and just keeps groaning. He means it—of course he does. If there’s one thing she’s learned since this whole thing started, it’s that Steve Harrington is somehow, inexplicably, too nice for his own good.

“I love you, you know,” she says, lips brushing against his skin with every word.

She’s been thinking it since he’d called her his best friend in that letter, since he’d said it and she hadn’t said it back. It sits unsaid behind her teeth every time he smiles, or frowns, or anything at all. He’s just too dang easy to love.

When he doesn’t reply, she forces herself to raise her tired head and get a look at his face. His eyes are big and round, mouth hanging open far enough that she’s tempted to close it for him, and there’s a damning sheen to his eyes that makes her own water.

“Really?” he asks, voice cracking. “You do?”

“Of course,” she replies, the way he always does to her, no matter what she asks for.

He smiles again, and it’s big this time, happy and watery around the edges as he says, “love you, too,” leaving the “I” out of the confession like that’ll somehow make the whole thing less real.

They’re smiling at each other like damn fools when Steve’s stomach growls and they dissolve into giggles.

“Buy me lunch?” she asks.

“Of course.” He jumps up from the desk and holds out his hand for her, an unknowing mirror of Eddie this morning.

She doesn’t put her books into his arms, just takes his hand.

PART 7

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 1 year ago

Note

Aye, dawg. What's good, dawg? Hope you have a good day, dawg

Earth 43Miles Morales × Fashionista Reader

Gurl is SASSY. Maybe like Edna from the incredibles when it comes to fashion. She’s a complete goof. I honestly don’t care what you do with this. I just see her finding out about him being Prowler then complaining about his outfit

(What's up, dawg. Hope you enjoy, dawg) taglist

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fashionista!Reader

Boy was so amused by your sass

He just found it so funny, and loved to flirt and tease you

So you being sassy about practically anything made him love you even more

It just made you all the more attractive about your sass

And if you threw insults and sarcasm in there?

Chiefs kiss, puddy in your hands and a ring secured

He also took notice, immediately, about how serious you were about fashion

Appearances, accessories or matching, anything and everything to do with fashion you were all over it

He stepped out of line in the wrong outfit?

Damn, you had so much to say so quickly and suddenly you were forcing him to change

You practically ran everything he wore because he knew if you didn't, somehow and someday you would find out

He also had to sit through your rants about someone's outfit in the wrong season, wearing uggs, mismatching, and any little fashion pet peeve you had

He just hummed, running his thumb on your waist from behind because he had no idea what the shit you were saying

But he loves the look on your face and how passionate and serious you were about it

Like fashion was your own form of art, and he didn't mind

He also loves the little fashion shows you would give him or he would be able to help you pick out an outfit

Or if you forced him to watch runway shows, he wouldn't do it by himself, but he would sit through them for you

You would also force him to match with you but he sat through it

But every relationship came with it's secrets, and his was he was the Prowler

He hid it from you successfully for a while, genuinely believing if you found out you would leave

So he hid it for your whole relationship

Until one night he fucked up, coming into his room and you were sitting there waiting for him

He was happy, relieved to see you only to have a feeling of dread wash over him as he saw you picking at his Prowler suit at his desk

You never even looked up, almost dissecting every little detail and every material of the costume as he stood frozen in the doorway

He tried slipping away, unnoticed before he froze when you finally spoke, not even looking up at him

"If you want to be a vigilante, at least be better dressed. You make one little costume…and you choose this material? Have I taught you nothing?!"

He was honestly shocked that was your response

Even more so that you didn't care if he was selling crack, being a damn mafia boss or being the fucking prowler and in your words

"Do whatever you want, darling, but don't you embarass me in that outfit ever-fucking again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @Lovelymiaablogss

#across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles morales earth 42 x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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tartarusknight · 4 months ago

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wrote you a little omegaverse ficlet, i hope that's alright. thanks for all of your fics they are always so wonderful. have a great night!:

Omega!Steve had been told he gave off a scent like vanilla ice cream, and because of his status as a rare male Omega it somehow is overactive. His doctors scratched their heads and basically told him it's just one of those things. His scent so strong even scent blockers don't quite block it enough for alphas with the strongest noses. He dates betas exclusively after presenting, even though there are many alphas interested. True it's not ALL alphas, there are more respectful ones than disrespectful, but still too many of them came on too strong, and made him nervous. His only Alpha exception being Nancy, who despite his hopes barely even scented him. She never helped him through a heat, never knotted him. And looking back he knows it was for the best, feels complicated feelings about knowing she didn't really want to be with him forever, like he'd dreamt. Is sort of thankful he gets to experience those things with someone who truly wants him. In the meantime he is accosted by plenty of leering alphas and wants to straight up give his social life a break, even from betas.

Steve is delighted to find out he's been hired at Scoops, thinks,with the strong scent of ice cream in his workplace, it'll help get unwanted alphas off his back. Everywhere he goes he can play off the scent as being from his job. Has a somewhat blissful,albeit lonely, summer pretending to tank his flirting skills, get to know his coworker. And then everything goes down and he's captured ridiculed, and hurt for the prejudices involved in being a rare Male Omega, on top of being beaten for being found in the base. A scent he was simply annoyed by now genuinely frightens him more than ever. He smells so good,alphas with no sense of personal space are back to sniffing around and he hates it, just stop. Leave him alone. Dates betas praying one is a good match, but they all just leave him feeling lonelier than ever. It goes on like that until after spring break.

Cue Eddie,an Alpha who doesn't have a strong sense of smell, and has been ridiculed for that since he presented. Barely catches a whiff of Steve. But sees how Steve tenses when other alphas come sniffing around. Takes it upon himself to protect Steve, steps in front of other alphas when he sees something going on. It's not often, and they don't really talk about it. Eddie does have a bit of a crush on Steve but knows how unhappy Steve gets about leering Alphas doesn't try anything other than occasionally flirt, tries not to take it too far. He doesn't ever want Steve to feel uncomfortable with him. But Steve,who knows about Eddie's poor sense of smell is smitten, and hopes someday Eddie would stick around longer than just to be a gentleman and fend off other alphas. Stay closer. Problem is Steve's Omega adapts to Eddie's poor sense of smell and makes Steve's scent even stronger to try and entice Eddie. Even though he uses even MORE scent blockers his sweet scent lures in even more rude alphas,female and male alike, than ever. Steve, who finally decides to put it all on the line, invites Eddie over. Tells him he likes him and politely asks Eddie if it's okay if he removes his blockers. Eddie sheepishly tells him he doesn't think it'll matter he just doesn't smell anything anyway. But an amazing thing happens. Eddie finally gets a strong whiff of what he's heard others wax poetic about. Looks at Steve in sheer delight, his pulse racing. His(!?) omega smells SO GOOD!!!! Eddie still holds himself back, panting gazing at Steve. until Steve walks up close,leans in and says "I trust you" Undoes the first few buttons of his shirt, bares his neck "please, scent me. My Alpha," he kisses him "Yes, sweetheart. Anything you want, my sweet Omega. Anything at all." Steve smiles,puts his hand to Eddie's face, takes a calming breath and looks into his eyes,"Please,my Alpha, give me your knot?"

Awww Eddie's being such a gentleman!!!! And Steve he's trying his best with what he's born with. But it's hard and it's frightening yet he still finds the alpha of his dreams 🥰

Thank you so much for the ficlet!!!! I really appreciate you 💕

#knightly talks #asks #stranger things #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson

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manofbeskar · 5 months ago

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i always think about how interesting it is for mihawk to keep saying he wants to live a peaceful life, but he has never once passed up an opportunity to run into danger. like his past of hunting marines, and then getting excited when he was getting hunted by marines again after marineford. he moved to a war-torn island inhabited by violent humandrills. he sought out shanks daily for at least a decade for duels. sure he has calming hobbies like gardening, but his actions show him as a man who lives for exciting places and people

i also think sometimes about the possibility that mihawk thought of (and still thinks) of shanks as the only real option for the pirate king. mihawk doesn't care to have the title himself despite being one of the leading pirates at the time (since the golden pirate age had barely started) and standing quite a good chance. compared to shanks, mihawk has more experience leading a grand line voyage. shanks then would have no experience leading a crew or successfully charting a voyage to the grand line himself. mihawk saw shanks's potential for greatness and believed in it, duelled him every day and watched his power grow stronger—to the point of shanks even developing a haki that directly opposes his own (and being the only known user of it so far, so there's a possibility he invented it from how much time he was spending with mihawk?) as roger's son, maybe mihawk expected that, while shanks wasn't ready at the time to find the one piece, that he will be in the future. he's helped shanks grow a reputation (since shanks got famous from how often he was fighting mihawk), grow in power (anti-observation haki and improved swordsmanship over the years). he's watched shanks's crew grow over the years (since there's a chance he might've known shanks before he even recruited his first crewmate)

the big betrayal comes when shanks gave up his arm because of his belief in luffy being able to be pirate king someday. because to mihawk, the title has always belonged to shanks. he's bet everything on him. he's the one who sought him out daily for a decade. he's the one who's helped him hone his skills. he's the one who believed in him when most of the world didn't even know who he was. and now shanks threw away all of that for a little boy? so mihawk stopped duelling him because there's no point if shanks isn't as invested in this as he is. but shanks still had hope mihawk would eventually return, possibly because he may not be aware of how much mihawk believed in his potential >> when mihawk came back with luffy's poster, shanks for some reason still thinks mihawk wants to fight him, even though mihawk just says he lost interest many years ago

mihawk also refuses to fight shanks on other people's orders. and even when he was fighting shanks regularly, despite their duels being so wracked with power that whitebeard said the grand line would shake, somehow shanks never leaves with so much as a scratch on his person. didn't whitebeard even say he thought his scars were given by mihawk? and yet as far as we know, mihawk and shanks have never had any real intention to hurt each other, and have never done so. mihawk left marineford after being ordered to attack shanks, and then questioned buggy for thinking he would attack shanks (and the other emperors) for him >> if even a little part of him still believes in shanks's potential to be pirate king, there's really no reason for him to hinder his progress. adding on that, as shanks doesn't seem to have any interest in competing for mihawk's title of greatest swordsman, mihawk also has no interest in competing for his as the pirate king. they've avoided each other's goals the whole time

mihawk also tells zoro "when a man like you throws away his pride, it is always for someone else" (when he begs mihawk to train him so he can protect luffy). maybe i'm reading too much into this one, but i always thought it was an interesting detail to throw in that mihawk apologises to shanks when he decides to attack luffy. he apologises even though shanks is not there yet, and specifically apologises because he is not going to hold back. it almost implies he has promised shanks to hold back on luffy and his crew—more likely that shanks might've requested this of mihawk when they celebrated his bounty than mihawk volunteering to do so lol. mihawk cares a lot about pride. when he first fights zoro, he humiliates him by not going all out and using kogatana. he apologises to mock zoro. he's cocky and prideful. mihawk doesn't apologise for doing anything because he feels he has nothing to be sorry for. he does whatever he wants, and everyone lets him because he's strong. yet his apology to shanks at marineford could imply he agreed to stand back. and his sincere apology to a man who isn't there, about being unable to continue holding back his power... idk to me that reads as something mihawk would consider shameful. mihawk enjoys being powerful and unstoppable, yet here he is apologising for that because of shanks —who again isn't even there to hear it!

this even ties into my "theory" (i say theory in quotation marks bc honestly it's more of a hope than something i seriously believe in) that mihawk may eventually leave the cross guild and join up with the red hair pirates—either because he's secretly been their swordsman the whole time, and why the RHP has never had a swordsman on the crew (in terms of rank like zoro, not just people who wield swords) or he feels this is his best option—to find the one piece. because if he stays with the cross guild, he'll have to find the OP for buggy who he thinks is a fucking idiot. if he has to find the OP no matter what, mihawk might prefer to spend his efforts on the same man he's believed in from the very start. also just think about how everything we know about mishanks's rivalry is all hearsay from other characters and behind-the-scenes stuff, and we haven't seen either of them go all out yet. just imagine when we finally get that, it's them teaming up. the world's most legendary rivalry teaming up to find the most coveted treasure. i think that'd scare everyone, pirate and marine alike (and not to throw in non-canon stuff here but i mean... mishanks vs the straw hats is already a battle that exists in one of the games 👀 )

and to tie it back to the first paragraph here. because mihawk can't run in the opposite direction of what excites him. and he has spent the past decade trying to find someone who excites him more than shanks. and he has very clearly failed. marineford ended with mihawk being excited to return to his past of when marines used to chase him, and maybe he could be excited too at the prospect of returning to the only man who ever made him feel alive

idk idk i have a lot of thoughts about them!!!! you can tell i'm very brainrotful about them!!!

#just a silly lil theory or thread of thought #idk how much i would religiously stick to this #in terms of canon i just believe in whatever we know #i probably have other theories or whatever else that would contradict this too #i like putting mishanks in situations #idk if *everything* here is accurate #but it's as far as i know #and anyway it's just rambles #if there's anything wrong pretend it's an au i guess #dracule mihawk #mishanks #shanks #long text post

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mononijikayu · 8 months ago

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tears are getting sober – gojo satoru

With a heavy heart, Gojo Satoru began to speak, his words a balm for the wounds that still lingered within him. He told you about his life over the past decade, the trials and tribulations he had faced, and the moments of joy that had flickered amidst the darkness. He talks as though you were still here. As though you were still alive. He teases one moment and he laughs about a memory the next. You were never dead to him. Not for one second in these past ten years did he get used to talking about you in the past tense. He thinks his brain can’t ever process the thought. He could never understand it. And he has come to accept it, after all this time. Nothing about it would ever come to be the past. You will always be his present. You will always be his future. He did not doubt that one second.

GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - JJK 0, 2006/2007 - 2017;

WARNING/s: Angst, One Sided Romance, Pining, Grief, Mourning, Death, Depiction of Trauma, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Blood, Depiction of Corpses, Depiction of Injury, Reminiscing;

masterlist

listen: tears are getting sober by victoria

note: i've been thinking about this for the past few days and i wrote this while on my online law class. this is the satoru pov of ghost of you!!! enjoy it!!! i hope you have a good day, i love you all!!!

HE THINKS LOVING SOMEONE IS A TOUGH JOB. As Satoru approached his twenty-eighth year, with the threshold of twenty-nine looming ever closer, he found himself grappling with the complexities of love and human connection. It wasn't that he didn't love others—of course he did. He was a human being, after all, with the same innate desires and needs as anyone else. Love was not just a luxury for him; it was a necessity, an essential part of his existence.

Yet, despite this fundamental longing for love and connection, Satoru couldn't shake the feeling of distance that seemed to separate him from those around him. Even in the company of close friends like Shoko and Yaga-sensei, he couldn't escape the sense of being an outsider, a solitary figure navigating a world that had grown increasingly unfamiliar.

He remembered a time when things had been different, when he had felt more human, more connected to those around him. There had been moments of genuine intimacy and camaraderie, moments when he had been able to express himself freely and without reservation. But as the years passed and the weight of responsibility bore down upon him, those moments grew fewer and farther between, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Now, on the cusp of another year, Satoru couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to that sense of connection, that feeling of being truly human. It was a longing that gnawed at him, a yearning for something he feared he might never recapture. And yet, deep down, he held onto the hope that someday, somehow, he would once again find himself among those who understood him, who accepted him for who he truly was.

Because during that time, he had a choice.

Because at the time, he can see Suguru smile.

Because at the time, you were still smiling alive.

There was never a moment when Satoru didn't love you. It was an all-encompassing feeling that seemed to permeate every facet of his being, impossible to ignore or suppress. Even if he had tried, he knew deep down that his love for you would persist, unwavering and unyielding. It was the kind of love that consumed him entirely, the kind that defied reason and logic.

As he reflected on his feelings, Satoru couldn't help but marvel at the power of young love. It was a force unlike any other, capable of transforming even the most mundane moments into something extraordinary. Even now, as he stood on the precipice of adulthood, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to you, the center of his universe.

He vividly remembered the day he first laid eyes on you, a moment etched into his memory with startling clarity. It was a day like any other, until it wasn't. Everything changed the instant you walked into his life, your presence casting a vibrant spectrum of colors upon his once monochrome world.

The sight of you, adorned in your dark blue uniform with that bright yellow hoodie, was like a revelation to him. Suddenly, the world seemed to burst into bloom, vibrant and full of life. The delicate petals of chrysanthemums mirrored the rosy hue of your cheeks, while the golden rays of the sun felt warmer when filtered through your radiant smile.

In that moment, the confines of his existence melted away, replaced by a sense of boundless possibility and wonder. The four corners of the room no longer felt suffocating; instead, they expanded to accommodate the enormity of his newfound emotions.

From that day forward, you became his guiding light, his source of inspiration and joy. Every smile, every wave, every word exchanged between you was a testament to the profound connection you both shared. And as Satoru gazed upon you, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the color you had brought into his life, forever altering the course of his destiny.

The mission briefing room was abuzz with excitement as Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you gathered around the table, eagerly awaiting your first assignment as a team. Yaga-sensei had to work hard to stop the gossiping from all of you. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, each of you eager to prove yourselves in the field. Much so, he and Suguru—who realized that they were polar opposites of the other, began to think of each other as the only rivals worth having. Satoru thinks he can one up the guy with the bangs. He could do it properly too.

As the mission details were laid out before you, Satoru couldn't help but steal glances in your direction, his heart racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You and Shoko were conversing about how best to provide support and defense while Suguru busied himself with asking Yaga–sensei about the best ways to conduct offense campaigns.

He had been looking forward to this moment ever since he had learned that you would be joining their team, and now that it was finally here, he found himself feeling more determined than ever to make a good impression.

With the mission parameters set, the four of you set out into the night, the cool breeze of autumn stirring the leaves as you made your way through the city streets. The mission itself went off without a hitch, each of you working together seamlessly to accomplish your objectives.

You and Suguru both gained new cursed creatures, which made you quite happy. You like having good friends in these creatures, you said. Somehow it reminded you of Pokemon. He didn’t say anything, he liked Digimon too. But he supposed, if you ask him one day—he’d watch Pokemon for you.

As you made your way back to Jujutsu High, all of you were too exhausted to come discuss any dinner plans. Shoko suggested you guys stop by a convenient store. This is the one of few times Satoru’s ever been to a convenient store.

Before, he had been far more confused than anything else, no one would expect the head of the Gojo Clan to know about the outer world beyond what he’s been told. But now that he has experienced it, he found his way around it. It felt like a comfort, he supposed, that he’s able to do this at all.

Satoru found himself beside you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Shoko was by the counter, pushing a fake ID with a grin on her face. Suguru was just behind her, his face unimpressed about her rule breaking in order to buy some cigarettes.

"Hey," Satoru said, his voice soft as he fell into step beside you. "Great job back there. You really held your own out there."

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at his words. "Thanks, Gojo–kun," you replied, your voice warm with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the sight of your smile. “You know you don’t have to call me so formally. Aren’t we friends?”

You look up to him again, away from the sandwich section. You blink at him. “Hm?”

“You call Geto and Ieiri by their first names.”

“And?”

“Why not me?”

You blink again, and then you laugh at him. He could feel more warmth emit through his body. Your laughter was such a beautiful sound. Far more gorgeous than the temple bells he heard in all his life. You were so beautiful.

“You could just ask me, you know.” You replied to him, smiling at him. “If that’s what you like, Gojo–kun–”

“Satoru,”

“Satoru–kun,” You corrected yourself, eyeing his happy gaze. “Then you should call me by my name too, you know?”

His lips slowly quivered into a smile, his dark peering shades lowering to reveal his eyes. “You have yourself a deal!”

As you browse the aisles together, you both share your opinions about different types of food. You liked a lot of savory dishes, Satoru loved really sweet things — which you had in common, in a sense. But well, you preferred dark chocolate to his sweet milk choco. You liked matcha and coffee more than you liked choco and strawberry milk.

But you both expressed a good love for mochi ice cream. You told Satoru that you’ve had it since you were a kid and you’ve never looked back since. Satoru’s continually eaten it since he discovered it a couple of months ago.

You got everything you wanted by then, Satoru insisting he should pay for your basket even though you were arguing with him that you had enough money to cover your expenses. But that had become a bad idea because then Shoko had goaded him with ‘What about us, Satoru?’ followed by Suguru’s lips quivering in a Cheshire grin in the back. Satoru did not care. He thinks he could pay for all your meals for the rest of his life and he would be happy — because you pouted at him that way. And it was adorable.

Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement building within him. As you all walked towards the train station, he started reaching for his own plastic bag as he kept up to your pace. He reached out to grab a box, offering it to you with a small smile. You looked at him as you both stopped for a moment, Shoko and Suguru lost in their conversation as they walked in front of you both.

"I thought you might like these," He said, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “I didn’t know which brand you liked best. But this is my favorite. Consider it a reward for a job well done."

Your orbs shone like stars. “You didn’t have to, Satoru–kun.”

“I bought this for you.” He tells her, tenderly. “You can enjoy it.”

You accepted the box slowly with a grateful smile, your eyes meeting him as you thanked him. In that moment, Satoru felt his heart swell with affection, the warmth of your smile sending a rush of happiness coursing through him. You opened the box and looked at him and grinned. You pull out one mochi container and give it to him. It was his turn to blink.

“It’s not fun to eat it alone.” You grinned wider, taking one and putting the box inside your plastic bag. You remove it from the container and start munching into the mochi. You looked at him encouragingly. “Go on, Satoru–kun!”

As the two of you made your way back to Jujutsu High, the taste of victory and the sweetness of mochi ice cream lingering on your lips, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. And as he stole glances in your direction, he knew that this was only the beginning of something truly special.

Satoru sat alone in his room, a single mochi resting delicately between his fingers as he stared off into the distance. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves outside his window and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on his desk. But in the silence, his thoughts were consumed by one thing and one thing only—you.

As he brought the mochi to his lips, his mind wandered to memories of you, your laughter echoing in his ears like a sweet melody. He remembered the way your eyes would light up with joy whenever you indulged in your favorite treat, the happiness radiating from you like a beacon of light in his life.

But now, as he savored the familiar taste of the mochi, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The once sweet flavor seemed to have lost its luster, the simple pleasure of indulging in his favorite snack now tinged with a bitter aftertaste.

With a sigh, Satoru set the mochi aside, his appetite suddenly vanished as he found himself consumed by thoughts of you. He missed the warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way you would brighten up his darkest days with just a simple gesture or word.

Closing his eyes, Satoru allowed himself to bask in the memories of your time together, his heart heavy with longing. He missed you more than words could express, and in that moment, he realized just how much he craved your presence in his life.

As the minutes ticked by, Satoru remained lost in thought, his mind drifting back to the memories of you. And as he sat alone in his room, the taste of the mochi still lingering on his lips, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness gnawing at his heart—a longing for the sweetness of your presence that he feared he may never taste again.

As Satoru reflected on the passage of time, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the days gone by. It had been a decade since you left, yet in his heart, it felt as though it were just yesterday. Time may have marched on, but for him, it would always be 2007—a year etched into his memory like a precious gem.

In his mind's eye, he could still see you as clearly as if you were standing before him, your laughter echoing in his ears and your smile lighting up his world. Despite the years that had passed, he knew that a part of him would always be with you, forever frozen in that moment in time.

And he wasn't alone in his longing. Suguru, too, harbored a deep affection for you, his heartache mirroring Satoru's own. They had both loved you fiercely, with a passion that transcended time and distance. And even now, a decade later, the memories of you still lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what once was and what could have been.

As Satoru gazed out at the world beyond, he couldn't help but wonder if you ever thought of them, if you ever longed for the warmth of their embrace as much as they longed for yours. In his heart, he knew that some bonds were unbreakable, woven together by the threads of love and longing that refused to be severed by the passage of time.

And so, as the years stretched out before him, Satoru held onto the memories of you, cherishing them like precious treasures. For in his heart, he knew that no matter where life took him, a part of him would always belong to you, just as a part of you would always belong to him.

And just as Suguru cursed you back to life,

You left and cursed Satoru back to life too.

He would never love anyone like he loved you.

He lived, just as Suguru does, to remember you.

Because that’s all he could ever truly do.

HE WAS SURE YOU WERE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE. As Satoru wrestled with his emotions, a tumultuous storm raged within him, tearing at the seams of his heart with every passing moment. He knew better than to say anything to you, for he believed that you deserved nothing but boundless happiness. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find true happiness with him, knowing the burden of his past and the shadows that loomed over his future.

In his eyes, you were a free spirit, a radiant gem in a world filled with darkness and uncertainty. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing you trapped in the confines of his world, shackled by the political machinations of the clans and the dangers that lurked at every corner. Even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, he feared that you would be sacrificing too much of yourself in the process.

The specter of his father's untimely demise and his mother's constant struggles loomed large in Satoru's mind, a grim reminder of the dangers that surrounded him. He knew that he could protect you, that he was the strongest among them. But he couldn't shake the feeling that you deserved so much more—a life free from the shadows that haunted his own existence.

And so, Satoru resigned himself to loving you from afar, content to cherish you as a friend and companion. He found solace in the knowledge that he could still keep you in his life, even if it meant keeping his own feelings hidden deep within his heart. For him, your happiness was paramount, and if loving you from a distance was the price he had to pay, then so be it.

When you confided in him about your feelings for Suguru, Satoru felt no malice or jealousy in his heart. Instead, he embraced your words with a sense of understanding and acceptance, knowing that your happiness was all that truly mattered. And as he watched you walk away, his heart heavy with unspoken longing, he couldn't help but silently wish for your happiness, even if it meant sacrificing his own.

You four were sent on a mission again — not too much of a hassle, considering it was just a minor deity and no one was injured, which Shoko seemed pleased about. She and Suguru were getting the camp site’s benches ready, so you all could eat dinner together. It was rare to be in such places, so you all decided that this was an opportune moment to eat some of the extra packed meals you brought along.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the tranquil waters of the lake as you and Satoru sat together on the grassy bank, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. It was a peaceful afternoon, the perfect setting for a heart-to-heart conversation.

As you gazed out at the shimmering water, a sense of nervousness fluttered in your chest, your thoughts consumed by the confession you had been holding onto for so long. Taking a deep breath, you turned to Satoru, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Satoru, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice hesitant as you searched for the right words. "I... I think I've fallen in love with Suguru."

Satoru's expression softened at your words, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and understanding. He had suspected as much, yet hearing you say it out loud still came as a shock. But despite the pang of heartache that echoed in his chest, he knew that your happiness was paramount.

"Really?" Satoru replied, his voice gentle as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "That's wonderful news, you know? Suguru is a great guy, and I can see why you've fallen for him."

Your heart swelled with gratitude at Satoru's supportive words, a sense of relief washing over you as you realized that you had made the right decision in confiding in him. His encouragement gave you the strength you needed to finally take the next step in your journey.

"Yeah, he really is," you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. "I've been thinking about telling him how I feel, and I think today might be the day."

Satoru nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with genuine warmth as he squeezed your shoulder gently. "You should go for it," he encouraged, his voice filled with sincerity. "Life's too short to hold back your feelings. And who knows? Maybe Suguru feels the same way about you."

With Satoru's words of encouragement ringing in your ears, you felt a renewed sense of determination wash over you. Taking a deep breath, you stood up from the grassy bank, ready to seize the moment and finally confess your feelings to Suguru.

"Thanks, Satoru," you said, turning to face him with a grateful smile. "I couldn't have done this without you."

As you walked away, the weight of your confession lingered in the air, casting a shadow over Satoru's heart. He watched you go with a bittersweet smile, his own feelings swirling beneath the surface like a tempestuous sea. Every step you took towards Suguru felt like a dagger through his heart, each moment a painful reminder of what could have been.

But despite the ache in his chest, Satoru knew that he had to push his own feelings aside for the sake of your happiness. He had always been there for you, offering unwavering support and encouragement whenever you needed it. And now, as you embarked on this new chapter of your life, he couldn't bear to let his own pain stand in the way.

So he plastered on a smile, masking the turmoil within as he watched you disappear from view. Deep down, he longed to hold you back, to tell you how he truly felt. But he knew that now wasn't the time—not when your heart was set on someone else.

Instead, Satoru forced himself to focus on the positives, finding solace in the knowledge that you were pursuing your own happiness. He reminded himself that he had played a part in helping you find the courage to confess your feelings to Suguru, and for that, he felt a sense of pride.

But as he turned away from the lake, the ache in his heart remained, a constant reminder of the love he had kept hidden for so long. And though he knew that he would always cherish the memories of your time together, he couldn't help but wonder what could have been if he had been brave enough to confess his own feelings to you.

‘No,’ He thought to himself as he took a deep breath. ��It’s better this way. There’s no one I trust more than him. Suguru would be good. It’s better this way.’

As Satoru grappled with his inner turmoil, he often sought solace in the mantra that he had no regrets. Yet, as he reflected on the choices he had made, a nagging sense of remorse crept into his heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should have told you the truth, should have confessed his feelings before it was too late.

In hindsight, he couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different if he had been brave enough to lay bare his heart to you. Perhaps you would still be alive, by his side, sharing in the joys and sorrows of life together. But now, as he looked back on the past, he knew that dwelling on such thoughts was futile.

It was too late for "what ifs" and regrets now. The past was set in stone, immutable and unchangeable. All he could do was carry the weight of his unspoken feelings and forge ahead, determined to honor your memory in the best way he knew how.

And so, despite the ache in his heart and the burden of his silent regrets, Satoru resolved to live each day to the fullest, cherishing the memories of your time together and carrying your spirit with him wherever he went. For in the end, he knew that dwelling on the past would only serve to hold him back from embracing the future that lay ahead.

You were too far for him to reach and too far for him to love.

You were like that when you were alive and now even in death.

But he thinks he will never love anyone else as he had loved you.

In this life and in the next and the other one after that, it’s only you.

In that next life, he hopes that he could finally tell you everything.

HE MEMORIZED EVERY MOMENT HE HAD WITH YOU. As Satoru's mind replayed the harrowing scene of finding you that fateful day, the vivid imagery seared into his memory with agonizing clarity. Your blood, a stark contrast against the dark cavern walls, painted a gruesome picture of the tragedy that had unfolded. It coated the steep stairs, pooling around your lifeless form, a haunting testament to the violence that had taken place.

As Satoru stood frozen amidst the horror of the scene before him, the weight of the moment bore down upon him like a suffocating blanket, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable heaviness. The sight and smell of your blood, mingled with Riko's, assaulted his senses, leaving him reeling with a nauseating mixture of shock and despair.

Your blood, brighter than any ruby stone he had ever seen, stained the ground beneath him, a vivid reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded in the depths of the cavern. It coated his shoes, a tangible testament to the violence that had torn through your lives with merciless force.

But amidst the horror, there was a poignant sense of sacrifice and bravery that lingered in the air. You clung to Riko with every last bit of strength and warmth you possessed, a selfless act of protection that spoke volumes of your innate goodness. Satoru had always known you to be a good person, perhaps too good for the cruel and unforgiving world of Jujutsu sorcery. He had feared for your safety, knowing that your tender heart could easily become a target in a world devoid of mercy.

The realization that you had died protecting another, that you had given your life to save someone else, sent a shiver down Satoru's spine. Died. Lived. The words echoed in his mind, their meaning lost in the unfathomable depths of grief and disbelief. They were both past tense, both irrevocably done, leaving him grappling with the unbearable finality of your loss.

In that moment, Satoru felt the overwhelming urge to scream, to lash out against the cruel injustice of it all. But as he stood frozen in place, his body trembling with suppressed emotion, he knew that there was nothing he could do to change what had happened. All he could do was bear witness to the devastating aftermath of your sacrifice, haunted by the knowledge that he had lost you forever.

For Satoru, who had always known himself to be the honored one, a god among men, the scene before him was a brutal awakening. Despite his divinity, he stood immobilized, his mind unable to process the enormity of the loss before him. You lay cold and lifeless, your once bright eyes now devoid of the light that had captivated him so.

As he knelt beside you, his heart heavy with grief, Satoru felt the weight of his own mortality pressing down upon him. In that moment, he shed the facade of godhood, allowing himself to embrace the raw humanity of his emotions. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he mourned the loss of everything good in his life, stolen from him in the blink of an eye.

And as he grieved over your lifeless form, Satoru realized the bitter truth that even his godlike powers were powerless to bring you back from the brink of death. In that moment of profound sorrow, he was just a man, left to mourn the loss of the one he had loved so dearly, forever haunted by the knowledge that he could never bring you back to life.

As the days passed and the reality of your absence settled in, Satoru couldn't help but notice the profound impact your death had on Suguru. It was as if a darkness had descended upon his once bright and vibrant friend, twisting him into something unrecognizable. Satoru watched in horror as Suguru's grief morphed into madness, consuming him with a relentless fury that knew no bounds.

It was Suguru who had led the charge to burn the village to the ground, a devastating act of vengeance fueled by the pain of losing you. And as the flames engulfed the once peaceful streets, Satoru felt a sense of helplessness wash over him, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the chaos and destruction that Suguru had unleashed.

But perhaps the most haunting moment came when Suguru turned to him, eyes burning with a fierce intensity, and posed a question that would haunt Satoru for years to come. "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru?" Suguru's voice was like a whisper in the darkness, his words laden with a weight that Satoru could hardly bear. "Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?"

It was a question that cut to the core of his identity, forcing Satoru to confront the very essence of who he was. And as he grappled with the weight of Suguru's words, a sense of panic began to claw its way up from the depths of his soul.

In the solitude of his bedroom, Satoru was overcome by a wave of overwhelming emotion, his chest tightening with each labored breath as tears streamed down his face. He cried out for you, his voice choked with anguish and longing, as he reached out for the comfort that could never be found.

In that moment of profound despair, Satoru realized just how deeply he had loved you, and how your absence had left a void in his heart that could never be filled. And as he lay there, trembling and broken, he knew that he would spend the rest of his days haunted by the memory of your loss, forever yearning for the one he could never have again.

The weight of his grief was like an anchor, dragging Satoru down into the depths of despair. With each passing day, the pain of your absence grew more unbearable, a constant reminder of all that he had lost. The thought of leaving to find you crossed his mind more than once, a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating grip of his sorrow. But every time he entertained the idea, he was met with the haunting memory of your eyes, filled with judgment, disapproval, and above all, hurt.

In those moments, Satoru realized that he could never bear to be the cause of your pain. The mere thought of seeing the disappointment in your gaze was enough to send a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of the love and compassion that had always flowed between you. He couldn't bear to imagine you grieving for him, carrying the burden of his loss on your shoulders.

No, Satoru knew that he couldn't allow himself to wallow in self-pity and despair, not when your memory was still so fresh in his mind. He owed it to you to honor your legacy, to live his life in a way that would make you proud. Despite the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume him, he resolved to carry on, to strive for nothing less than your happiness.

For in the end, that was all that truly mattered to him—to see you smiling, to hear your laughter, to know that you were safe and content. And so, with renewed determination, Satoru vowed to carry your memory with him always, a guiding light in the darkness of his grief.

And so as those tears dried each and every day.

Your picture was tucked away in his inner pockets.

He thinks he had to live on, so that you could live on.

He thinks that he stays alive for you, no matter what.

SATORU THINKS HE REMEMBERS YOU LIKE THIS. On that rare day off, when the usual hustle and bustle of Jujutsu missions seemed to fade into the background, you and Satoru found yourselves with an unexpected opportunity to spend time together. With Suguru and Shoko occupied elsewhere and Haibara and Nanami tied up with their own commitments, it was just the two of you left to fend for yourselves.

As you pleaded with Satoru to accompany you on a day of exploration, he initially feigned reluctance, claiming he had other things to attend to. But your persistence wore down his defenses, and soon enough, he found himself agreeing to join you on your adventure.

Despite his protests, Satoru couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled within him at the prospect of spending the day with you. Your infectious enthusiasm and boundless energy were like magnets, drawing him irresistibly towards you.

Dressed in vibrant pastel hues that seemed to complement your radiant personality, you looked utterly captivating in Satoru's eyes. He couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you, a rush of warmth flooding his chest as he marveled at your beauty.

As you set out together, exploring the nooks and crannies of the world outside the confines of the Jujutsu world, Satoru found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. Every laugh, every smile, every twinkle in your eye seemed to etch itself into his memory, imprinting itself upon his heart in indelible ink.

Despite the uncertainty and chaos that often defined their lives as Jujutsu sorcerers, in that moment, everything seemed perfect. It was just the two of them, lost in the magic of the day, reveling in each other's company and the simple joy of being alive. And as Satoru watched you, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the precious moments they shared together, and the gift of your presence in his life.

As you and Satoru ventured deeper into the botanical garden, the serenity of the surroundings enveloped you like a comforting embrace. Each step you took seemed to lead you further away from the chaos of the world outside, immersing you in a tranquil oasis of greenery and blossoms.

The air was redolent with the delicate fragrance of flowers in full bloom, their perfumed scents mingling together to create a symphony of olfactory delight. Every inhalation fills your lungs with the sweet perfume of roses, lilies, and jasmine, transporting you to a realm of pure sensory bliss.

Sunlight filtered through the lush canopy overhead, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow upon the verdant foliage below. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze provided a soothing soundtrack to your leisurely stroll, accompanied by the occasional chirp of a distant bird or the soft hum of buzzing insects.

As you meandered along the winding paths, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty that surrounded you. Vibrant bursts of color greeted your eyes at every turn, as though nature itself were putting on a dazzling display just for you.

You reached out to touch the velvety petals of a blooming rose, marveling at the delicate intricacy of its design. Satoru watched you with a fond smile, his own eyes alight with appreciation for the natural splendor that surrounded you.

Together, you continued to explore the botanical garden, each moment filled with a sense of peace and tranquility that seemed to wash away the cares of the world. In this enchanted sanctuary, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious moment spent in each other's company amidst the beauty of nature.

As you strolled hand in hand, Satoru couldn't help but notice the way your eyes lit up with wonder at the sight of each new flower you encountered. He found himself captivated by the joy reflected in your expression, a stark contrast to the darkness that often clouded his own thoughts.

At one point, you paused in front of a bed of sunflowers, your favorite flowers, and exclaimed in delight at their cheerful appearance. Satoru watched you with a fond smile, taking in the way the golden petals seemed to dance in the gentle breeze, illuminated by the warm rays of the sun.

"What is it about sunflowers that you love so much?" he asked, genuinely curious to hear your thoughts. He admired the way your face lit up as you spoke about the flowers, your passion and enthusiasm shining through with every word.

You turned to him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you explained, "Sunflowers always remind me of hope and resilience. No matter how dark things may seem, they always find a way to turn towards the sun, seeking out its warmth and light. I find that incredibly inspiring."

Satoru listened intently, his heart swelling with warmth at the sincerity of your words. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the botanical garden and the company of someone he cherished deeply, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him.

As you continued your leisurely stroll through the garden, Satoru found himself feeling grateful for the simple moments of joy that you brought into his life. In your presence, he felt a glimmer of hope and optimism, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still beauty to be found in the world. And for that, he was truly grateful.

In those ten years, not a day had gone by without Gojo Satoru thinking of you, longing for the warmth of your smile and the gentle touch of your hand. Your absence weighed heavily on his soul, a constant reminder of the void that had been left behind when you departed from this world.

As he stood before your grave, surrounded by a sea of sunflowers swaying in the breeze, Satoru felt a wave of bittersweet nostalgia wash over him. The vibrant blooms seemed to echo the radiant spirit you had embodied in life, their golden petals a testament to the joy and beauty you had brought into his world.

With trembling fingers, Satoru traced the letters of your name etched into the stone, each stroke a silent prayer for your peace and happiness in the afterlife. Though he couldn't bring himself to admit it, a part of him still clung to the hope that somehow, someway, you were still out there, watching over him from afar.

But deep down, Satoru knew the truth. You were gone, forever beyond his reach, and no amount of longing or regret could change that fact. And so, with a heavy heart, he bowed his head in silent reverence, offering up a silent vow to honor your memory for as long as he lived.

In that moment, amidst the sunflowers and the gentle rustle of leaves, Gojo Satoru found solace in the quiet beauty of your final resting place. And as he stood there, lost in his memories. Memories that were dried and gone, leaves that had seen autumn over and over. Memories that had gotten him through the coldest whispers of winter and frostbite.

As Satoru knelt before your grave, he couldn't shake the haunting realization that your soul was bound to this earth, tethered to Suguru by an unbreakable bond of love and guilt. He had messaged Suguru, informing him of your final resting place near Gojo Manor, but he knew deep down that Suguru wouldn't visit you. Not out of lack of care, but out of overwhelming guilt and remorse for the role he played in your tragic demise.

Suguru had loved you too much to let you go, and in his desperation to protect you, he had unwittingly sealed your fate. Your body lay here, beneath the soft earth and sunflower blooms, but your soul was intertwined with Suguru's, trapped in a perpetual cycle of longing and regret. He liked to believe that you split your soul, that somehow you gave him a part of you. To feel that he would not truly be alone. But he knew better than that. He was deluding himself. Still, he did not care. He promised to take care of you. And he would. He’d always take care of you, as he had these past ten years. As he would all his life.

As Satoru gazed upon your grave, a sense of profound sadness washed over him, mingling with the guilt and remorse that weighed heavily on his own heart. He had failed to protect you, failed to keep you safe from harm, and now he was left to mourn your loss in silence. No one truly could love you like he and Suguru had. No one knows this pain other than his best friend.

"Hey there," he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Ten years... feels like a lifetime."

He thinks his brain can’t ever process the thought. He could never understand it. And he has come to accept it, after all this time. Nothing about it would ever come to be the past. You will always be his present. You will always be his future. He did not doubt that one second.

"I've been doing my best to honor your memory," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But it's never easy, you know? Sometimes, it feels like I'm just going through the motions, pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

As he spoke, Satoru's hand reached up to his silk bandages, lifting it away to reveal the vibrant blue eyes that had long been hidden from the world. You have loved his eyes at one point. You told him how they remind you of the blue sky in summer. Yet now that you were gone, he couldn't find it in his heart to let the world witness them again.

For a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let his guard down and show you the depths of his pain. You were the one person, besides Suguru, that saw every facet of him. Perhaps you will always the the person left in this world, even when you weren't here anymore, that will see such side of him. You were the person he could only ever be so truthful to.

"I miss you," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day, in every way, I miss you. And I wish... I wish I could turn back time, change the course of fate, and bring you back to me. But I know that's not possible."

With a heavy sigh, Satoru replaced his blindfold, shielding his eyes once more from the world. But as he rose to his feet and prepared to leave, a sense of peace settled over him. Though you were gone, your memory would live on in his heart forever, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

"Rest well, my dear," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your headstone. "I'll always be here, watching over you. And I promise... I'll never forget you."

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istoleyoursk1n · 10 months ago

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Hi can you do halsin Gale and Astarion with a very explicit and flirty paladin s/o who looks super stoic and serious please?

Like they’re there standing stoic and menacing and then whispers in their ear the dirtiest pick up line ever?

Like I think they’d have a funny reaction!

Feel free to refuse ofc! Thanks anyways!

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would Halsin, Gale, and Astarion react to a paladin who looks stoic/strict only for them to be an explicit and flirty?

(Damn, reminds me of my PaladinLMAO)

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Oh, darling, and just when I thought you were as dense as a brick wall. I never could have guessed that beneath all that was a cheeky little flirt. All that dirt coming out of such a filthy mouth, you ought to have someone clean it out for you, my sweet.”

He was the one being the flirty ass at first, hitting on you in every teasing way he could think of with the hopes that perhaps someday he’d get a reaction out of you for his own amusement.

You never seemed to comment on his “advances” at first, you remained as stern as usual with little but a side glance to offer.

Probably got personally offended each time his usual charms failed but he was persistent. More so because he wanted to prove that he could truly seduce even the most stoic of hearts.

He made it his personal mission to make you crack, but along the way, he may or may not have fallen for you. Regardless, the realization absolutely horrified him.

Perhaps he just has the worst luck ever or you finally started to begin your master plan of turning the tables against him but nevertheless, he wasn't prepared at all for what you had in store for him.

He was already taking quite the liking to you, so the moment you began whispering such depraved yet smooth words into his ear, he was shocked and speechless for the first time in years.

His mind was practically breaking apart as you laid out every filthy thing you had in mind. He truly couldn't tell if this was utterly fucked or if he was somehow into it.

You would be the sole reason a tint of color finally appears in his otherwise undead skin. The tint being a bright shade of red of course.

He goes from being startled, angry, confused, flustered and then eventually hitting you right back with a little pick up line of his own once he’s finally calmed down.

Now both of you end up teasing and flirting with each other as sneakily as possible, both of you trying to outdo the other in terms of who could fluster whom the most.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“I…oh gods, love, you truly don't understand the things you do to this heart of mine. Of all the weaknesses I could have possibly gotten, you are one I’d welcome with open arms. I have stood proud amongst a Goddess but for you? I’d fall to my knees.”

He was slightly intimated by you at first by how stoic you appeared to be. You seemed like a person who’d prioritize business and work above all else, repelling anyone with nothing more than a glare.

He wasn't even sure how to approach you, he was already admiring you from afar but he feared that you would have never felt the same. Not when it felt as if your heart was locked within walls of stone.

He tried to shoot his shot once or twice, but they were always met with a few words of acknowledgment or even worse, a mere nod.

As much as he wished to simply move on from his utter fixation on you, he can't help but pine. You’re something he's grown to truly desire in ways he could hardly express.

However, one way or another, every little attraction he’s felt for you thus far is revealed by him. Completely exposing just how smitten he truly is by you and perhaps that single moment of true vulnerability is what finally made you snap.

Pull him close and abruptly whisper every depraved fantasy and dirty pickup line you've thought of just for him and he’d die. I mean, melting right then and there into a puddle of shame.

For a man who talks too much, he suddenly becomes oddly quiet, his eyes wide with a certain gleam of helplessness that makes him look all the more exposed to you.

For once in his life he’s stuttering his words, barely even able to hang onto a sentence without having to take a moment to breathe or silently whimper out in a mix of embarrassment, confusion, and frustration.

Dropping one of your pickup lines would be just enough to have this man in a chokehold. Truly. It’s one of the only ways to actually silence him.

He’s not one for pickup lines but he’d try his damn best to voice out his admiration for you similar to how a poet would describe their one and only muse. Through each sweet whisper, you dare utter, he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“My heart, I beg of you. Each word, each whisper, even the soft tingle of your breath against my skin- you are a walking temptation that I so longingly wish to taste. My blood runs wild when you are near and I fear what I may do to you if you if you continue on.”

He was hardly bothered by the fact that you seemed a tad bit uptight. He has met far too many people similar to you and he’s learned better than to judge someone based on appearances alone.

Doesn't change the fact that he was in fact attracted to you.

The thing is, he respects you too much to ever make a move. At least, not for a while. Most conversations you’d have with Halsin were of the friendly sort at first, prioritizing the mission at hand before anything else.

However, in truth, the way his eyes practically brightened and his breath ever so subtly quivered when you approached was something you could have slowly picked up on.

He eventually slides very discrete hints about his attraction toward you, simply testing the waters to see if you would reciprocate. However, he truly never expected you to actually take the bait.

Before he could even properly make a move on you, you were already whispering every one of your sweetly depraved desires into his ear, catching him completely off guard.

He knew that there must have been more beneath your hardened exterior but he would have never suspected this. But is he complaining? Absolutely not.

But do be careful when and where you decide to whisper such things to him because you may or may not be seconds away from being utterly ravished by one bear of a man against the nearest surface.

Do so in public spaces where it's safe to tease him, giving you the freedom to watch as his breath heaves and his voice breaks just by the smoothened words coming out of your dirty mouth.

Nevertheless, he’s absolutely obsessed with your little flirty remarks, said remarks being enough to fluster him instantaneously. All the lovers he had taken in his life and yet he had never met one who could madden him as much as you do.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanon #bg3 headcanons #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #astarion #gale #halsin

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vodika-vibes · 3 months ago

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A Marriage Of Convenience

Summary: You and Kix have been friends for years, since near the start of the war to be more precise. So, when you ask him to marry you, in the hopes that a legal wedding would finally give him and his brothers the rights that they deserve, he jumped at the chance. It worked. And now, four years later, with the war over, you’re still happily married to your best friend.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 1298

Warnings: Some miscommunication

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: So this whole idea was born from the many asks I got on Saturday about this very topic. Also, I'm feeling much better, it seems like my fever finally broke late last night. Maybe. I haven't actually checked, lol.

Kix wakes slowly, taking his time to fight off the claws of sleep that want to drag him back into dreamland.

Not that there’s any reason for him to be awake, he’s not a soldier anymore and the clinic is closed today, so he could sleep in if he wanted to. But, even now, years after the war sleeping in feels wrong to him.

So he lays in bed and blinks hazily at the ceiling, waiting to wake up enough that he’s able to roll over and look at his comm to make sure none of his brothers did something stupid last night.

Kix is about to roll out of bed, intent on starting his normal routine— an hour-long run, and then showering before making breakfast— when he hears a groan from next to him.

His riduur is slowly waking up, and he can’t stop the smile that crosses his face at the sight of her lying there. Her hair is a mess, sticking up in random directions, and curling into her face.

She blinks at him blearily, “Kix?”

“Good morning, riduur,” He sits up and leans over to brush a curl off her face, only for it to spring right back into place, and he has to muffle his laughter. “Your hair has taken on a life of its own.”

“S’alright,” She mumbles, “It does that sometimes.” She yawns widely, and Kix feels his heart clench. She really is unfairly adorable. Good thing he’s already locked her down and he doesn’t have to worry about anyone stealing her from him.

“You can go back to sleep, riduur,” Kix says lightly as he lightly pushes her hair out of her face so he can see her pretty eyes, “It’s early.”

“You’re awake,” She accuses as she rubs her cheek against his hand.

“I have a thing about sleeping in,” Kix replies, “You know this, cyar’ika.”

She squints at him, “Someday, I’m going to make one of your brothers tell me what those words mean,”

He leans in as if to share a secret, “They’ll never tell you because I’m scarier than you are.”

She pouts at him, and it’s almost enough to make him want to tell her what riduur and cyar’ika and cyare mean. Almost.

“Kix,” She whines his name and it takes all of his willpower to keep breathing, “We should sleep some more.”

“Cyare,” He teases her, “I’m going to go for a run.”

Somehow, her pout becomes more pronounced, “But sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you from sleeping in, cyar’ika.” Kix reassures, “And I’m certainly not going to force you to go on a run with me.”

“Good. If you did I’d ask for a divorce.”

“Ouch.” Kix replies with a laugh, “No need to worry, riduur, I know you’re allergic to running.”

“I’m only going to run if someone is chasing me,” She yawns again and buries her face in her pillow, her gaze locked on his face.

“Good to know.” Kix watches her watching him, and he raises a single brow, “Why are you staring?”

She grins at him and sits up suddenly, flinging her arms around his neck and knocking him back onto the bed.

It’s so surprising that a startled laugh falls from him, “Riduur—”

She buries her face in his neck and drapes one of her legs across his hips, her arms tightening around him, “There. Now we sleep.” Her breath is warm against his neck and Kix shivers, unable to help himself.

Slowly his arms wrap around her, one of his hands tangling in her hair, while the other slowly strokes her back, “Someone’s clingy this morning.” He murmurs in her ear.

“I’m clingy every morning,” She replies as she rubs her nose against his neck, “You just normally get up before I can be clingy.”

Kix hums thoughtfully and then shifts his head so that his nose is pressed into her hair. She smells citrusy, a mix of her shampoo, body wash, and the lotion she prefers. It’s a scent that he’s come to associate with her and with safety.

It’s a scent he’s come to associate with love. His love for her, to be more specific.

Kix doesn’t say anything for a moment, and he’s almost positive that she’s fallen back to sleep while half lying on him, until her fingers curl into the thin material of the shirt he wears to bed.

“What’s up, cyare?” Kix asks as he glances down to try and see her face.

She shifts so that her face isn’t buried in his neck, and the expression on her face isn’t one he’s ever seen before. It’s soft and warm and makes goosebumps spread across his entire body.

“Kix,” His name is a sigh on her lips and his arms tighten around her, pulling a startled squeak from her. A smile spreads across her face and she shifts so she’s able to press her hand against his cheek.

Kix closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

“I’ve been thinking,” She murmurs.

“About?” She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Kix opens his eyes to look at her, her expression has become slightly wistful as she gazes up at him, “Cyare?”

“This whole thing started as a way to get you all rights,” She murmurs, “And it worked. You’re all legal citizens of the Republic.” She pauses her thumb lightly trailing against his jaw, “If…if you wanted a divorce,” She says quietly, “So you can find someone you actually love—”

“Stop.” Kix interrupts and she immediately falls silent. He slowly moves his hands to cup her face, “I want you. Only you.”

She blinks at him, and then she huffs, “You don’t love me, Kix—”

“Says who?”

She blinks at him dumbly, “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

“...General Skywalker said that the marriage was—”

“I haven’t spoken to Skywalker since the war ended. How would he know?” Kix points out.

She blinks at him again.

Kix sighs, “Listen to me, riduur. Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you for ages. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I’m happy with how we are. I absolutely do not want a divorce.”

“...you don’t?”

“No, I don’t.”

She shifts slightly so that she’s lying on top of him, her gaze scanning his face as if trying to determine if he’s lying to her or not. And then she releases a soft sigh and she leans in to press her forehead against his, “You love me?”

Kix smiles at her, “You single-handedly won rights for me and my brothers. How could I not love you?”

“Not single-handedly.”

“Close enough.” He counters dismissively.

A soft laugh falls from her lips, and Kix can’t help the small grin that crosses his face at the sound.

And then, quickly, she presses her lips against his.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed since their wedding day and Kix immediately leans into the kiss, allowing her to set the pace. And when she breaks the kiss, she looks flustered and she won’t meet his gaze.

It takes him a few moments to reset his brain and his grin is broad, “Does this mean that all talks of divorce are off the table?”

She shifts and presses her face against his throat, but he feels her nod.

“Good.” Kix tightens his arms around her and adjusts her so that she’s lying on the bed again. “I suppose I little early morning cuddling would be good for us.”

She peeks up at him, a small grin playing on her lips.

Later he’ll comm Rex and get him to find out what, exactly, Skywalker said to his perfect riduur, but for now, she deserves all of his attention. And she’s going to get it.

#star wars #tcw #clone medic kix x reader #kix x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 17 days ago

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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for October 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Impactful by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Having “packs” sort of belonged to the past, but it wasn’t entirely unheard of to move in with a bunch of friends as adults. It was practical in many ways: there would almost always be somebody home to receive packages, they could divvy up the house work and share living costs, they would always have friends around and if any of them had children, their aunties and uncles could look after them!

So. It wasn’t unheard of. But it was definitely a thing they would be called hippies for. In fact, almost all of them had already been called hippies and weirdos for it.

＊ Travel Blog Entry #28 by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [G, 89 words, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis return home from a holiday. The last post on their travel blog is this poem.

＊ Hold Me Like A Grudge by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [G, 890 words, Louis/Harry]

You can press your lips to someone’s skin and know this is the last time.

＊ And Now I'm Falling For You by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 711 words, Harry/Louis]

“What did you do?!” Louis exclaimed as he waded out of the water, Harry hot on his heels. “I tried to save you! You know, this is the part where you tell me I’m your hero, and then you-” “And then I what, Styles? Shower you with kisses? Get a freaking grip, Harry. We’re not in one of your ‘old-school musicals’ with cheesy background music and full on choreographed dancing! This is reality and you just ruined my chances of riding one of the biggest waves the town had ever seen!” “Well, I’m sorry for not wanting to watch my best friend drown because he was too stubborn to admit that the bloody sea was too dangerous for him to surf in.” “That’s not what was happening and you know it.”

OR Snapshots of A Teen Beach Movie Larry AU with a twist

＊ I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface [E, 3k, Louis/William Prince of Wales]

Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

＊ I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence [NR, 5k, Louis/Pedro Pascal]

Pedro laughed with the man in front of him who… oh god. Was that Oscar Isaac? Louis wasn’t going to survive if he was left in this room with those two for long. He should probably make his exit, except then Pedro started doing some sort of freestyle it looked like while Oscar cheered him on. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle and was trying to hide his smile as he watched on when Pedro turned and looked directly at Louis, freezing when he did so.

After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself, causing Louis to grow increasingly more confused at his behavior while also feeling more drawn to him. Maybe someday they'll be able to manage a moment that doesn't end in one of them feeling the need to run from the room in order to escape the other.

＊ Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28 [NR, 3k, Louis/Dominic Harrison | Yungblud]

Based in the 1920s - Alternate Universe.

When Isla found a love for the melody formed by a strumming of strings, Louis didn't expect to fall equally in love with his daughter’s guitar teacher, Dominic Harrison.

＊ Bouncing off the Wall by @signofcomfort [G, 34k, Louis/Harry]

Harry Styles is Louis' self-declared enemy, but it doesn't help that they are neighbours and their families are friends.

＊ Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14 [E, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac]

A one shot set in and Edwardian music hall. Prompt from and written for the Louis rarepair fest. This was a challenge and a pleasure to write.

Edwardian music hall performer Louis Tomlinson meets the newest act in the show, the American magician Oscar Isaac. Romance, smut and a seance ensue. Also featuring best friend wing man Harry Styles.

＊ That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum [E, 24k, Zayn/Liam/Louis]

“Seems we’ve got a little conundrum on our hands,” Louis murmured into Zayn’s ear, feeling his hands settle back on his waist and pressing a little closer.

“Mm. Seems we do,” Zayn responded, and Louis liked to think his voice was at least a bit intrigued.

Louis’ mind was whirring. He’d wanted to try and get with Liam tonight, but now a new, better idea was forming. Getting Liam with Zayn, if possible, would be something of a dream come true. It would maybe blow Liam’s tiny brain, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices for good things to happen.

“Do you wanna try pull him together?” Louis asked Zayn curiously, grinning against his skin when he felt his hands grip tighter.

＊ It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 9k, Liam/Louis]

All around him, his coworkers have started pulling out their chosen lunches. And Liam does the same, reaching down to the backpack at his feet and pulling out the Tupperware of leftover spaghetti he’d packed this morning.

When he sets it on the table he notices a little neon pink post it note on the lid that he didn’t remember being there before. Written on the note in messy scrawl it says: Have a wonderful day husband! Can’t wait to suck you off when you get home!! XOXO -Lou.

Liam feels his face go bright red again as he hastily rips off the note and crumples it in his fist. He glances around the table, but thankfully no one seems to be paying him any attention. They’re all wrapped up in their own food items or listening to whatever their boss is talking about.

(Or the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?)

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Alpha Louis Fest / @1dalphalouisfest / Masterpost

Fics that involve Alpha Louis Tomlinson

＊ 1D Flower Fest / @1d-flower-fest / Masterpost

A fest dedicated to inspiring fics and artwork about flowers in the 1D fandom.

#28th appreciation #1dsquad #1dficlibrary #1dficvillage #hlcreators #hlficlibrary

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iamnmbr3 · 2 months ago

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I find very interesting that both Draco and Harry seem to get each other so well even though they barely know one another.

Honestly this is what fascinates me the most about their dynamic, because while Draco serves as Harry's foil, their parallels are just so symbolic.

Both children of a war they didn't choose, both boys fated to pay for the sins of those that came before, both loyal, both marked by something. Harry using Draco's wand (that worked so well for him) to defeat Voldemort.

And really, Draco is the kind of challenge Harry loves. Canon Harry didn't want admires (which is why is so beyond me that he'd end with Ginny of all people). Harry wanted someone that understood him, that would stand up to him when they thought he was being an idiot, and who in the whole saga we know does that?

So yeah, ironic that J.K. R unintentionally wrote that lmao

I completely agree! The parallels are fascinating on a thematic and character development level and are part of what makes the idea of a relationship between them so interesting and compelling to explore. Also, on a practical level it means that they have a surprising amount of shared experiences that would help them bond and understand each other in a way that is really quite unique. Each in his own way is surprisingly isolated and internal despite being seemingly surrounded by many people and I think they could reach each other in a very special way.

I also totally agree about it being strange that Harry ended up with a fangirl. Controversial take but imho Ginny's shallow admiration of Harry isn't really that different from Romilda Vane's. They're both kind of obsessed with the idea of Harry without actually knowing much about the reality of him. (In book 5 Ginny was starting to overcome this and was getting to know the real Harry while also coming into her own but then she very much backslides in book 6 and 7. Also while Ginny did make some progress Harry really didn't. He never learns much about her or her interests, fears, hopes, dreams etc.)

Draco (prior to his family's downfall) spends a lot of his life surrounded by sycophants and admirers and yet he doesn't really respect them and seems to crave a real friendship. After all, even before he knows who Harry is he tries to reach out to him in Madam Malkin's even though he obviously knows Harry isn't one of the children of the wealthy blood supremacist pureblood families who are already familiar to him. Because perhaps he wants something more, something real.

And similarly Harry doesn't want to be worshipped or feared. Part of what draws him to Cho initially is the way she can match and challenge him at Quidditch (who does that sound like?) and her humor and sassiness when they play each other. He likes someone who can push back and challenge and interest him and match his wit. And this isn't Ginny. That's Draco. Perhaps someday Harry reflects on how Ginny always did what he wanted and said what he respected, and Draco never does, and somehow that has made all the difference.

#asks #drarry #hpdm #harry x draco #harco #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #h/d #dmhp

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useyourwordsdarling · 4 months ago

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I know you probably get a ton of dms but i just wanted to express my gratitude. I have only dated guys that use me for my body or js use me as a therapist and it didn’t help my self esteem or body image and seeing how you care for your sub just shows that there are good guys out there! (I know you probably wont see this but wtv)

Aww I’m happy my little posts could somehow help you not lose hope on that aspect. And I’m sorry to hear you had those experiences and I’d completely understand if you were skeptical to be with people now after your bad experiences in the past.

I know there’s probably people who’d argue something along the lines of “but everyone is different” which like yeah…but that doesn’t still mean there’s shitty people. But I think for me what it comes down to is that you deserve someone to care for you. You deserve respect, you deserve an actual healthy relationship. And someone who deserves to be with you. I guess this works for everyone, but sometimes it feels like we forget we also deserve those things. But I’m sure you know these things and I’m just rambling here, but I do hope you end up meeting the right person someday and I’ll be rooting for that (not that it changes anything but pretend it does)

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spooklies · 1 year ago

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# Taste - Yan!Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

♡ ... › Everything about you was perfect. Someday, he hopes you see yourself the way he does.

— Words - 600+

♡ ... › Warning(s) - Mentions of a previous drugging. Slight physical harm. Mike’s a bit of a perv.

— A/N - Something short I wrote to get a feel for writing again. Enjoy <3

Mike brushes away the few strands that flowed onto her face and then gently pinches those strands as if he were memorizing the texture and length to memory. He’s learned so much in the time you’ve worked under him yet somehow he had no idea about the way your hair reacted when twirled, or how feathery soft the ends were when pressed against the pads of his fingers. Ingraining the memory of your hair may have been insignificant to most, but to him it was a part of the many reasons why he found himself smitten with you.

There’s so much more to you and it's killing him inside that he’s only able to grasp what’s presented to him on the surface. Like a butterfly hit with a particularly strong breeze your eyelids flutter open. Those beautiful and glossy eyes of yours perceiving him through a sleep-induced haze that you tried to shake away with a few toss and turns of your head. Upon the groan you let slip Mike instinctively grabbed ahold of your chin, keeping your gaze on him and from wondering elsewhere.

“Hey, take it easy, there’s no rush.” As always you were stubborn. He could tell you still weren’t completely deprived of your will by the way you attempted to free your chin. But Mike’s always been someone who’s had to adapt – his willingness to compromise outmatching any of your stubborn fits you still liked to display. “I said, take it easy.” His grip became vice-like and that’s what got you to settle. You still appeared trapped in delusions, an Alice running from the world she brought upon herself.

This was your fault, after all. And much like Alice, you have no one but to blame but yourself.

“If you move around so much you’ll probably give yourself an even worse headache.” To emphasize his point he began harshly shaking your head back and forth, only regretting it when your attention left him in favor of screwing your eyelids shut. You groaned out a quiet plea, wanting him to stop so he did. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted?” You opted to sniffle out a barely concealed sob instead of speaking. That was fine with him though, he didn’t need you to say anything to understand what you felt or thought about something. He believes he knows you well enough to be able to make these translations himself. “Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?” He flicked your chin away and stood up, feeling a drop of water land on his head and the distant echo of traffic from outside the house. His basement wasn’t the most ideal place for him to house you in but with everything you’ve done it’s the place you’re most deserving of.

“I’ll be back after work.” He told her apologetically. The constant shifts of emotions he went through was enough to give anyone whiplash. “If Abby tells me you’ve been loud then I won’t hesitate to muzzle you. Is that what you want to happen, Y/n?” At his inquiry you squirmed, shaking your head in denial and then stopping right after. Mike smiled, pleased with how quickly you were adapting. “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. So let’s not make this drugging thing a habit anymore, okay?” He didn’t like having to do these sorts of things but if his hand was forced then what else was he supposed to do?

You graced him with one last look of acknowledgement before seemingly drifting back off into your little wonderland. Mike couldn’t help himself and immediately knelt back down, cupping your face in his hand and swiping his thumb against the droplet of water you produced. Mike brought that same thumb to his lips, his tongue wrapping around his fingers and his lungs contracting as he sucked the taste of you off himself. You were perfect. And the way you tasted proved that fact tenfold.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere mike schmidt #yandere fnaf #yandere five nights at freddy’s #mike schmidt x reader

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paperhugg · 7 days ago

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Don't want to bother you, but can you draw some moonkiller (Remus/Barty), please?

I've never seen any fanart of them and I need it so bad

Hi. Hello.

I don't feel bothered at all. 🫶🏼

I have this sketch sitting in my WIP pile for ages now...maybe I'll color it someday LOL

I don't really ship moonkiller, because they've both found their soulmate in someone else...

BUT:

I headcannon Remus, someday...near fullmoon, punching Barty in the mouth for saying something insanely stupid (very likely to happen...) but kind of feeling sorry for doing it right after. Barty sitting on the floor, dazed but somehow adoringly struck by Remus' ability to punch him... And after that Barty has a BIG BIG crush on Remus for quite a longtime (who can blame him). Until they make out completely drunk and each of them getting slapped by their future significant other (not together yet). They remain frenemies for life. ❤️

I hope this "helps"? 🤲🏼

Instagram: @_paperhug_ 💌

#illustration #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #marauders #fanart #harry potter #remus lupin #wizarding world #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #remus x barty #moonkiller

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fortisfilia · 8 months ago

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Promised Part 8 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.1k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 7 | Part 9

Part 8 - Slughorn's Party

Returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays was far less stressful this time. Now that Elsie was better, it was much easier to concentrate on your studies. Maybe you could also focus on Tom. Both things seemed equally important somehow. And the fact that you could see Camille again added to the good things Hogwarts had to offer.

You were sitting on her bed in her dorm, telling her everything that had been going on during the last days. The Gaunts who had wanted to force you to do an unbreakable vow, their fight with Tom, that Tom had stayed for a bit, the book he had gifted you and everything in between.

“I can’t believe you got him a snake,” Camille laughed. “What do you think his family said about that?”

“I couldn’t care less what they think of it. I hope they’re mad at me.”

“Do you think Tom got in trouble for it?”

“I don’t think so. He knows how to stand his ground.”

“And the book he gave you? Do you think that it means something? It’s some sort of family heirloom after all.”

Thinking about it, you lay down on your back next to her. “I’m not sure. Do you think that was some kind of secret message from him?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” You rolled over to face her. “And what have you done these days? Tell me all about your presents.”

“Well,” Camille said with a smile. “The presents weren’t the most exciting part of my holiday, to be honest.”

“Let me guess. You met someone! A guy?”

The smile on her face widened. “I didn’t meet him. I just kept in contact via owl.”

“Oh, Merlin! Who is it? Someone from school?”

She nodded.

“Go on, tell me!”

Her expression suddenly changed. “You have to promise not to be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“It’s someone you don’t exactly like,” she said, a thick tone of guilt in her voice.

Then you knew. “No. Don’t. It’s Ben Hilt, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Oh, Camille,” you sighed and needed a moment to sort out your thoughts. “Why?”

“He is a very charming boy.”

“He’s a year younger than you.”

“So?” she giggled.

“He wanted to tell on me to the Ministry, so that I wouldn’t be able to marry Tom. Sticks his nose in everybody’s business.”

“He just wanted to help. He thought you were forced to do it. And you have to admit he wasn’t exactly wrong about that.”

“Have you told him about the pact?”

“Of course not! I would never. I told him right from the start that if he’s only after me to get information about Riddle and you, he could piss off.”

“And?”

“He didn’t piss off,” she smiled. “He’s really nice. We never talked about you and Tom after I had made it clear it was none of his business. He didn’t even bring it up to begin with. I did. I would never date someone who would want to harm you, I swear.”

“Ugh, I know,” you groaned. “You’re too good. For me and for Ben.”

“Shut up,” she said as she nudged your shoulder.

“Wait. Did you just say ‘date’ someone? Are you official?”

“No. I guess not. But maybe someday. Now, what are you going to wear to Slughorn’s party?”

Slughorn’s annual belated New Year’s party was one of the few exclusive gatherings happening in school. Students could only attend if they had gotten a personal invitation, from Slytherin’s headteacher Horace Slughorn, who would invite his favourite pupil, or rather, the ones he thought looked best in his trophy collection.

Camille, Tom and you had all gotten Slughorn’s owl. You had not mustered up the courage to ask him about it. Even though you were going to marry him, that didn’t mean he wanted to go to the party together. Together, as in, on a date. It had felt too delicate talking about it directly, the fear of being rejected too present. So you had danced around the subject, trying to find out if you were on the same page. Until he had finally said what you had wanted to hear. He had asked when to pick you up as if the possibility of not going there as a couple had not even occurred to him.

Seven o’clock, as arranged. It had arrived so soon. You hastily fixed the small wrinkles on the hem of your dress with a spell when you heard him knock on the door. Tom looked very posh in his black suit, politely offering his arm. And off you went. Together.

The guests at the party were students from years six and seven, as well as some teachers. Camille, who had brought Ben with her, looked absurdly pretty in her golden dress. Ben couldn’t have been more proud. He talked to Camille continuously and just seemed head over heels for her. Right next to them stood two of Ben’s friends, looking all out of character in suits. Avery and Lestrange came without dates and seemed awfully nervous for some reason. They whispered to each other every time you looked their way.

And then there was Freda Morris. Hogwarts’ head girl, who had her eyes fixated on Tom from the moment you had entered the room. Had she even noticed you next to him? Was she aware Tom was spoken for? Everyone knew by now that you were engaged after all, the ring on your finger being a testament to that. Either she didn’t know, or she didn’t care. The expression she sent you, after carefully staring you up and down, told you though, that she was absolutely aware of your relationship. She looked like she wanted to throw you out the next window.

“What in Merlin’s beard?” you muttered quietly to yourself after she had finally turned away from you.

“Pardon?” Tom asked and came closer so he could hear you better.

“Nevermind. Let’s go over to Camille and Ben, shall we?”

Tom’s gaze fell right on the two.

“Your friend came with Hilt?” he asked sternly and began to walk their way.

“Um, yes. About that,” you said, pulling lightly on his arm to stop him. “They’re dating. Kind of. They’re not official yet, but, you know, it could lead somewhere.”

He looked like you had just given him the world’s most unnecessary information. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“That we have to be nice,” you answered and gave him your best fake smile, demonstrating what you wanted him to do.

“Nice?” He gawked so blankly at you, it was almost comical. “You want me to be nice to Benjamin Hilt? After what he’s done?”

“Well… Yes.”

“Why?” Tom asked, genuinely not understanding what you meant.

“Because Camille is my best friend. And she likes him.”

Tom sighed.

“Answer me this,” he said. “Camille knows a lot about you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I assume she knows about us.“ He started talking more quietly. “Our pact?”

“She does.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“So?” you asked.

“Isn’t it clear? He’s sweet-talking her to get information.”

“That’s what I first thought too. But Camille swore she wouldn’t tell him a thing. And she said she had made that clear to him from the beginning.”

Tom was still eyeing Ben sharply.

“Come on,” you said and pulled him their way. “I trust Camille. It’ll be fine.”

“It‘s not her I don’t trust,” Tom said under his breath. “At least he's a true Gryffindor if he goes after her now. Either completely daft or actually courageous.” Your eyebrows lifted in question and he ducked his head grinning. “Remember I told you I’d take care of him when Marvolo sent his letter?”

“Yes?”

“I sort of did.”

Stopping in your tracks, you asked, “When? And what did you do?”

“A few weeks before Christmas. I just pulled him aside and talked.”

“Talked?”

“Well, I talked. He didn’t say much to be fair.”

“Tom, where did you take him?”

“The weather was nice so I took him outside.”

Short answers again. This story wasn’t going to end well. “Where?”

He still feigned innocence, squinting his eyes as if he struggled to remember. “The whomping willow.”

“The wh- Tom! What in Merlin’s name were you thinking?”

“I said I’d take care of him, so I did!” He held his hands up in defence. “Also, he was only up in the air for a minute, okay? I held back.”

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this now,” you sighed, your fingers pressed against your forehead.

He shrugged. “I didn’t deem it important. For me, the issue was settled.”

“Okay.” Shaking your head, you started walking towards them again. “Since it’s settled, we can give him another chance. And vice versa.”

Tom didn’t answer, following you silently.

When you greeted the two, Camille hugged you and gushed, “You look so beautiful! And you both know Ben, I believe.”

Of course, you did. Whether Ben wanted anything to do with you after what Tom had done was a different question. You offered him your hand and Ben shook it, despite it all, with an honest smile on his face.

“Fresh start?” you asked.

Ben nodded and turned to shake Tom’s hand as well. Tom looked at him seriously for a moment, inspecting his hand as if it was covered in Dragon Pox, until you nudged his side with your elbow, urging him to accept, which he reluctantly did.

Slughorn called for dinner before you could talk more, so you all went to the big oval table on the other side of the room. Ben sat down left of Camille, you to her right and Tom on your other side. Slughorn talked openly across the table, asking his students about their holidays, while dinner was served. Freda, obviously trying to impress, mentioned that she had been to France with her family, which didn’t have quite the effect on Slughorn that she had hoped it would.

“Pathetic,” you mumbled and Camille chuckled.

“Mean, aren’t we?” Tom whispered, a grin forming on his face.

“Me? Never.”

He exhaled a laugh and slowly grabbed your hand beneath the table, taking you by surprise. You looked at him, your fingers wrapping around his hand, then pulled them upwards and rested both his and your hand on the table.

“Now you’re just cruel,” Tom jested when Freda looked over and saw the two of you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. “I’m merely holding my fiance's hand. That’s not an act of violence, is it?”

“Fiancé, huh?” Tom asked.

“Aren’t you?”

“You’ve never called me that before.”

He was right. You had never called him that in person, or when you had talked about him to anyone else. If you didn’t know better, you could have sworn that a crimson haze was creeping up his neck and across his face.

“Well,” you swallowed, feeling a wave of heat on your cheeks as well. “It’s what you are, whether we like it or not.”

Tom nodded and held your hand a little tighter while glancing down at the table. “Fair.”

After dinner, the guests spread around the room, chatting and drinking punch while they waited for the first dance of the evening. Slughorn had pulled Tom aside a while ago, asking about his opinions on different things concerning Potions, politics and the news. He visibly hung to Tom’s every word, clearly awed by his favourite student, nodded and agreed to most of the things Tom said. You turned your back on them and faced Camille and Ben, still hearing the two chat behind you and thinking of how well-spoken Tom was. He knew how to lull in every teacher by heart. Each word that left his mouth seemed carefully crafted for Slughorn’s ears only and made him react just as Tom wanted him to. Impressive.

Having engaged in conversation with Camille and Ben, while still keeping an ear on Tom behind you, you heard that Slughorn finally set him free and wished him a nice evening. Tom would be joining you, no doubt, even though he still didn’t like Ben when suddenly an all too familiar voice started talking to him.

“Hello Tom,” Freda Morris said, sickly sweet. “How are you? How were your holidays?”

You shot Camille a look, to which she automatically checked the people behind you, eyes wide in disbelief when she peered back at you.

“What are you going to do?” she mouthed silently.

“No idea,” you mouthed back.

Ben stared back and forth between Camille and you, completely confused until he finally noticed what you were whispering about.

“Oh,” Ben snorted. “Someone’s looking for trouble.”

Alright. Freda had not given up on Tom yet. There was a knot in your stomach, pulling bitterly and twisting your insides. You tried to ignore it, took a deep breath and decided to listen to them first. Maybe you were overreacting. Jinxing her later was still an option.

“Oh yes, Paris was wonderful actually,” Freda enthused and had pronounced ‘Paris’ in a weird French accent. “It’s so cosy there around Christmas, you have to go someday.”

“Sounds nice,” Tom answered, rather casually. “Well, if you don’t mind, I-”

“Oh, Tom, actually,” she went on. “I wanted to ask you. Don’t you think we should open the first dance together, as head boy and girl? It’s a tradition, after all.”

Tradition? You had never heard of such a tradition before. Camille and Ben, now eavesdropping too, were as dumbfounded as you. Camille was sincerely shocked, while Ben’s mouth was open, half laughing, half speechless, like a fish on land gasping for air. It seemed that you had not been overreacting, so you turned around, now facing Tom and Freda’s backside.

“I don’t know if that’s actually a tradition, Freda,” Tom said, looking back at you briefly, one side of his mouth pulling upwards.

“Philip Elms and Eve Sterling opened the dance at last year’s party,” she huffed. “They were head girl and boy too.”

“Correct,” Tom agreed. “But they were dating at the time, weren’t they?”

Freda didn’t answer.

“And since we are not dating, I have to politely decline,” he said, again looking at you. “Now excuse me, I have to talk to my fiancée.”

Tom left Freda standing there and the four of you watched her wandering off. No one said a word, Camille was holding her breath until Ben burst out laughing. “Mate,” he chuckled. “That was… deadly.”

Tom didn’t laugh, squinting at what Ben had just called him, but nodded appreciatively before he turned to you, offering his hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Opening the dance? The music has just started and Slughorn told me I should do it.”

You shook your head smiling, took his hand and let him take you over to the dance floor.

“For someone who accused me of being cruel, you’re doing a very good job yourself, you know,” you said, keeping an eye out for Freda, in case she planned on hexing you. Better safe than sorry.

“Ah, she’ll be fine,” Tom assured. “Or would you have preferred if I took her to dance?”

The question didn't need an answer, so you just gave him a knowing look when you arrived on the dance floor, where you got in position. Tom placed his hand on your waist and took your right hand in his other one, holding both of them upright below shoulder height. All the guests had gathered around the floor, waiting for you to start dancing. Luckily there wasn’t enough time to get too nervous. It had all happened in a matter of moments.

“You know how to waltz, right?” Tom asked.

“It’s been a while, but-”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll lead,” he said and took the first step, spinning in circles in three-four time.

Tom was a good dancer, which wasn’t surprising. He probably had taken courses some years ago, just like you, upon your parent’s request. You kept up with him quite well, only taking a wrong step every now and then.

“If I had known, I would’ve practised…”

“It’s alright, people will join in soon. You’re doing well,” he reassured you and lightly squeezed your waist.

The fact that you had never been so close to him for more than a few seconds became more apparent the longer he held onto you. Suddenly the spinning felt faster, all eyes focusing on you, burning holes right through you. The only thing steadying you was Tom and his hands. You spotted Camille in the crowd, who was smiling at you, holding up her hand and giving you a thumbs up. That made you feel a bit more at ease, so you let Tom lead you round the floor, twirling away from people’s stares. Finally, halfway through the song, pairs of people joined in and filled up the dance floor, leaving not much room to be glared at.

Tom looked at you, a proud smile adorning his face, his eyes softer than you had ever witnessed before.

“What’s that I’m seeing there?” you asked. “A genuine smile? Certainly a rare sight.”

He swallowed, not changing his expression. “Camille was right.”

“She usually is. But what do you mean?”

“Earlier, when we went up to them. She said you look beautiful. You do.”

People’s faces around you seemed to blur and you couldn’t hear them properly anymore. The only thing you saw was Tom’s face and how his eyes still stared into yours. It felt as if you weren’t dancing anymore, but rather floating above the ground, a swarm of butterflies emerging from your stomach. Your hand went from Tom’s shoulder behind his neck on its own and pulled him closer. Closer, just a tiny bit closer, so that you were able to view every single one of his eyelashes. His chest bumped against you and his cologne tickled your nose. You let yourself sink into the smell of bergamot and lemon, feeling how his hand squeezed your waist a bit tighter by the second.

Closer, until you both shut your eyes and your lips met in the middle, kissing Tom right out there on the dance floor. You were the only people who had stopped spinning, even though it still felt like you spiralled around a hundred miles an hour. Butterflies turned into aeroplanes, rotating and crashing gently against each other, just like the two of you.

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 9

Tags: @ariachaos

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holdmytesseract · 1 year ago

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Ohh well hello there bestie ✌️ My request for you is…

Will Ransome having to visit London and attend a party where he meets Reader and they share a dance (and maybe more 😏).

Hearts Aflame

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Summary: Will gets invited to London for the engagment party of a very good friend. What happens when he meets you again after ten long years?

Warnings: thirst, suggestive smut, mentions of alcohol, age gap, fluff?

Word Count: 3,8k

a/n: It was so much fun to write for Will again. I hope you are going to like this, bestie! 🫡 Thanks for the request! 💖

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique

Masterlist °☆• Hiddles Masterlist

It was a rather cold autumn day in Aldwinter. Dark rain clouds hung all over the sky; ready to let the rain pour, causing Will Ransome - vicar of the cosy, little village to make bigger steps towards his home. He had taken the dog on a walk and was now fleeting from a threatening downpour, looming in the sky. The vicar's chocolate brown Cocker Spaniel had to run, in order to keep up with his master's big steps.

"Come on, Pup, come on. I don't want to get wet - and you neither. I know you."

But unfortunately, the weather didn't show mercy on them. It literally started to rain pitchforks, when the duo was only a few minutes away from their home. Hence, Will was already able to see it in distance. Nevertheless, it didn't help. Just like the running. When they reached the small house, dog and owner were soaked to the skin; clothes and fur literally dripping.

As fast as somehow possible, Will unlocked the door to let himself and Pup in. The moment the wooden door fell into its hinges, the vicar threw his coat on the coat hook to dry and immediately hurried to get a towel, before Pup could- Too late. Will was sprinting down the stairs; towel in hands as he witnessed how the dog shook off the water, causing the droplets to land everywhere. Will sighed in defeat, shook his head and made his way over towards the Cocker Spaniel. "You couldn't wait for another second, could you?" Pup just huffed and looked at him apologetically. "You are a bad boy sometimes, but I love you nonetheless, you fluffy little creature."

After rubbing the Cocker Spaniel's fur completely dry with the towel and also cleaning up the water on the floor, Will went upstairs to the bathroom, in order to get dry himself.

He unbuttoned his wet shirt first, then slid the suspenders off his shoulders, so that he could take off the usually puffy garment as well; leaving his torso bare. After getting rid of his brown trousers as well, he went to rub his long, blonde-brown curls dry, just like his whole body. Once that was done, he slipped in fresh clothes and decided to head back downstairs, where his faithful dog waited for him - with a piece of paper in his mouth?

Will frowned and squatted down; "What do you have here, buddy?" and took it from Pup's mouth. It was a letter - like the vicar recognised. A letter from someone he hadn't heard of in a long time... An old friend from London. Henry Carter. They used to be best friends; even went to school together. Will spent the most of his youth with him. But someday their ways parted, when Henry decided to become a lawyer and Will a man of God.

With a smile and full of anticipation, the vicar sat down on his little sofa and opened the letter.

Greetings, my old friend!

I sincerely hope that you do remember me. After all, it's been quite a few years since the last time we saw each other. Just know that I never forgot you - and with this letter, I would like to invite you to my engagement party. Yes, you read that right, my friend. I found a lovely, wonderful woman, who is very eager to meet you. So, if you have the time, my fiancee and I would be overjoyed to welcome you in London next Saturday.

I hope to see you soon,

Henry Carter

Will's smile widened, as he put the letter back inside the envelope. Oh he'd certainly go to London next weekend.

A week later, the vicar's feet touched, indeed, London ground again - since years. He didn't want to admit it, but it felt good to leave Aldwinter for a while. Even if it was just two days. It was a break he didn't know he needed.

At the train station, he was already awaited. By a man Will only knew too well - and a strange woman who stood beside him. The man smiled brightly as soon as he recognised the vicar and met him on the way.

"Will?" Henry asked; quite a bit surprised. Will smiled and started to nod as well. "Hello, old friend." A breathless laugh left the lawyer's lips, before he went to hug his school friend; clapping him on the shoulder. William returned the gesture, of course; was just as happy.

"You've changed, Will!" Henry stated, after paying his appearance a closer look. "I did?" "Yes! Look at you! You've grown! You were always tall, but never that... muscly... Even got a beard now! And your hair is way longer than in my memories." Will chuckled at his friend's assessments. "Well, I suppose I have... But you, my friend, you didn't change at all!" That caused the man to chuckle along Will, before they both went silent for a moment.

"It's so great to have you here and see you again. There've been times where I thought I'd probably never see you again, but here you are..." "That thought crossed my mind a few times, too, my friend. I wanted to write you a letter and somehow contact you, but I didn't know where you lived now. Still with your parents? Perhaps not even in London anymore... I didn't know."

Henry placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "You couldn't. I stayed at my parents for another year, but then... Then I met her." The lawyer turned and looked at the woman, who still stood a few meters away from the reunited friends; smiling softly. "Come on, I want you to meet Eva." The men smiled at each other, before they both made their way over to said woman.

"Eva, darling... Let me finally introduce you to Mr. William Ransome." Henry gestured at Will, "Will... This is my beautiful fiancee Eva." then at Eva. Will smiled and stretched out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eva." She took his hand and allowed the vicar to bestow a decent kiss on the skin of her hand - a gentleman to the core. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Ransome." "Will... Please call me Will."

The remaining afternoon was spent with Henry and Eva showing Will around in their quite big house, letting the vicar unpack his things and teatime, of course. A lot of conversations were shared. When the wedding is, how the couple met and so on. For Will, it was about getting to know the woman his dear friend married - just like it was for Eva to get to know her future husband's friend.

In the evening, after dinner, Will and Henry decided to go to a local bar, in order to celebrate their reunion. Despite that, they still had quite some catching up to do.

Now they were seated in the bar; both with a glass of beer in hands. "So... Tell me, friend... How is Aldwinter?" Will smiled. "Well... It's a small, cosy village. The people are great. I love to live there and being a vicar. I came to think that this was what Aldwinter needed... A vicar. The people trust me and I appreciate that a lot." Henry nodded and smiled as well, "That's great to hear, honestly." before he took a sip of his beer.

"Do you have a own house or do you live in the church?" "It's 'just' a chapel and too small to live in. I have a own little house. You can come visit sometime. You and Eva of course, if you'd like to." "Sure, why not. We'd love to." Henry paused for a moment; let Will drink some of his beer as well, before he fired the next question at him.

"A little house... And you live there... alone?" Will noticed immediately what Henry was insisting. It wasn't quite subtle. The vicar looked down; fingers nervously tapped against the glass of beer. "Yes, I... I live there alone - with my little dog, Pup."

Opposite him, Henry raised an eyebrow - unbeknownst to Will. "No woman?" His friend shook his head. "N-No." The lawyer copied his gesture. "How is that possible, William? When I think back to our youth - our time in school, almost every lady had laid her eyes upon you. They would've all wanted you. You can't tell me that this has changed." He stated; drinking again.

Will shrugged his shoulders; gaze lifting again. "I really don't know, Henry, I... I just haven't found the right woman yet. But I trust in god to send her my way when the time comes." Henry reached over to clap his friend on the shoulder. "Well, I trust in that too, then. Just know that you are not getting younger. It's time for you settle down, you know..." "I do know, yes..."

Silence spread between the two man; both of them thinking about the exchanged words for a moment. A small laugh left Henry's lips then. "I can't quite believe I reached this milestone before you." Will couldn't help but to chuckle as well. "Me neither, honestly."

The two friends continued to talk about anything and everything, until one specific topic suddenly came up... You.

"Who else did you have invited for the celebration who I might know?" Will asked with a smile. "Other old school friends?" Henry shook his head. "No, I didn't. Apologies. My parents would've loved to come, but they said they're feeling too old for such a party. I accepted their wish to not attend." He paused; took a sip of his beer. "I think the only other person you know is my little sister, Y/N. Do you remember her?"

Will's eyes widened at the mention of your name. Of course, he remembered you! He had seen you often back when he was younger and hanging out with Henry. Will always thought of you as Henry's sweet, little sister - since you had been still a child. Well... A very young woman, to say it right. The vicar quickly calculated in his head. He was about twenty-two that time. Henry was just as old and you... You were fourteen, which means that you were now... twenty-four. A grown woman.

"Yes, yes, of course I remember her. She was still very young back then." Henry nodded with a chuckle. "She was, indeed... But not anymore. She has grown, my friend. She's not that sweet, innocent girl anymore... Y/N's a woman now. You're not going to believe your eyes when you see her again. I bet you won't even recognize her." Will smiled; drank the last sip of his beer. "That is most likely going to happen. After all, it's been ten years..."

Henry should be proven right...

A sigh left your lips, as you grabbed another glass of champagne, before you hid yourself in one of the corners; exchanging several more fake smiles on your way there.

You were bored. Utterly bored.

It wasn't like you didn't want to be here, at your big brother's engagement party, no, but the problem was that you knew everybody here and had talked at least twice to all the people. Too many familiar faces - and the most of them not your age.

You barely finished to think that thought, when your eyes suddenly spotted a strange man in the crowd. You narrowed your eyes; gaze sticking on him as he got greeted by your brother. He was tall. Way taller than Henry. His hair was long and curly; coloured in blonde-brown. His cheekbones were high and sharp - like you could tell. A soft scruff was covering his cheeks and chin, and you could swear that he had blue eyes. You bit your lip. That guy probably was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Now you were intrigued. Henry owed you some explanations. From where did he know that tuxedo clad gentleman?

As if Henry heard your thoughts, you could see him making his way over to you - and he seemed to be very excited. You could tell.

"Y/N!" He called out your name in a cheery voice. "Y/N, you have to see someone!" Henry grabbed both your hands; smiling brightly. You lifted an eyebrow, "Is it your mysterious new friend you kept from me?" and nodded towards the man, who was currently talking to Eva.

Henry followed your gaze - and started to laugh. "He's not my mysterious new friend I kept from you. In fact, you know him. Very well might I add." You frowned; were quite a bit confused now. Sure, you thought he looked somehow familiar, but played it off as a coincidence. Now, after your brother's words, though... But from where could you know- "Do you remember my childhood friend Will? William Ransome? Well..."

Your eyes widened the moment those words left your brother's lips and for a short moment, you felt like fainting, as your heart rate sped up. "You are fooling me, brother! This is Will?!" Henry laughed once more; nodding. "I kid you not, sister." He turned around to Will, shouting: "Hey, Will! Would you come over, please?"

Will's head turned with a smile, and before he walked over to join you and your brother, he politely ended the conversation he had with Eva.

Your heart threatened to burst inside of your chest, as you watched the tall man stepping closer - and when he spoke your name, everything froze in time around you. "Y/N..." His voice sounded exactly like you remembered it. Deep, yet smooth like velvet. Being the gentleman he was, the vicar stretched out his palm for you to take. Wordlessly, you complied; placed your hand in his and letting him brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Your knees almost buckled.

"It's has been such a long time, I... I don't know what to say! It is a pleasure to see you again." Will's gaze met yours, causing you to get lost in his eyes; drowning helplessly in those oceanic blues. Up close, he was even more handsome. What an attractive man he had become... You definitely needed a moment to recover.

"I find myself being just as stunned, Will. It is great to see you as well. After all, it has been over ten years!"

Henry left you and Will alone to talk then; having other guests to tend to as well. And while you talked about how your life had been in all those past years, Will wasn't able to tear his gaze apart from you...

You've aged - but in the best way possible. Henry had been right. You weren't the young girl anymore he used to know. You had grown into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Countless conversations and another glass of champagne later, Will had asked you to dance with him and how could you say no to that? How could you deny him this wish? You gladly accepted; feeling all the old feelings you had harboured for this man in your youth reappear. Everything you thought you had buried deep within you re-emerged; causing your heart to beat faster whenever he looked at you. It was like not even a day had passed since you last saw the vicar. Like the time had just stopped for the both of you. There was a tension between you and Will. A sizzle. A spark; ready to burst into flames at any moment. It was thrilling. Exciting. And yet also a bit intimidating.

It was already late at night, when you decided to bid your goodbye and leave. Will, being the gentleman he was, offered to accompany you home - something Henry was very grateful for. A young lady walking home alone in the dead of the night through the streets of London? Unacceptable.

In what Henry and probably also Will saw a kind favour, you saw a chance. Perhaps the only chance you'd get before life ripped Will out of your sight once more...

"There we are..." You announced; stopping in front of a tall, slightly decayed brick house. The dim street lamps didn't provide enough light to illuminate the whole street, but enough that you were able to make out the handsome features of the man standing in front of you in his black tuxedo.

"That is the house you are living in?" You nodded with a smile. "Yes, it is." Will shook his head, as a soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. "It's so much bigger than the little cottage I live in." You had to giggle as well. "Well... London isn't Aldwinter, Mr. Ransome - and besides, I don't live alone in here. There are several apartments." Will's cheeks reddened slightly. You could tell. "Right, of course. Apologies." You just smiled at him, before an unpleasant silence spread over the both of you. The tension was still there. Just like the spark; setting almost the night air aflame. You better make a move now or let him walk out of your life once more - perhaps for all times, a voice in your mind whispered; urging you on. Probably it was your heart speaking to you.

You took a step back and leaned against the wooden main door; crossing your arms behind your back.

Will noticed the shift in your demeanour immediately; gaze stuck on your face for a long moment, before he literally forced himself to look away.

"Y/N... Don't..." His words were nothing more than a whisper.

"Whatever do you mean?" You retorted; innocence swinging within your voice.

Will shook his head softly. "Don't look at me like that. Please, don't give me those eyes." You bit your lip; releasing a hand from behind your back to slowly place it on the vicar's chest. "Why?" You breathed; toying with the buttons of his pristine white shirt.

Will swallowed hard. "Be-Because it's wrong. We... We shouldn't do..." Before he could finish his sentence, you had pulled him towards you; his feet following your command. His words died in his throat, when he watched your soft, plump lips inching closer to his - until the contact was inevitable. Your warm lips caught his in a hesitant - almost shy kiss.

Unfortunately, it ended way too soon, as you pulled back after a mere few seconds; leaving him aching for more. Will didn't even notice how he was chasing after your lips in a desperate attempt to keep them locked to his. And nevertheless, his mind was still trying to talk sense into him. "... do this." He ended the sentence in which you had interrupted him oh so rudely.

You could hear how hard he swallowed. "We... We shouldn't, Y/N." Will reasoned; gently taking your hand in his bigger one. You watched his palm swallow yours whole, as he moved your hand away from his chest. The moment he dropped your hand caused a cold shiver to run down your spine; followed by an aching pain. You didn't want to loose his touch. Ever again.

You shook your head; hand hovering over his chest once more. "Why, William?" The vicar took a deep breath. "You... You are the little sister of my best friend and-" "And?" "And you are so much younger than I am. You're a precious flower; not meant for me. I... I don't want to ruin you."

"What if I want you to ruin me?"

Your feelings and desire for the older man opposite you spoke faster than your brain was able to react.

Will blinked; clearly couldn't believe your words. "W-What?"

"Will... You were the first boy I fell in love with; ten years back. At first I thought it was foolish and youthful behaviour of my body, but then... Then you'd come around to spend time with my brother and... And I knew it wasn't. I had fallen head over heels for the best friend of Henry. Of course, I was way too shy and young to tell you. It was my secret." Will's eyes had widened; oceanic blues looking at you. Stunned.

"When you left, I buried my feelings for you. I thought they would stay buried, but when I saw you again, today... You already ruined me for every other man to come, Will." Shock and disbelief was written all over the vicar's face. He hadn't expected this to happen. Not at all. He didn't know. How could he?

"I have always wanted you." Those words were again merely above a whisper, but they urged to his ears nevertheless. Again, you let your palm rest on his chest; feeling his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Will gasped at the combination of your words and touch. He still couldn't quite believe it - and the rational part of his brain still tried to appeal to his conscience.

"Y/N, it..." He started to shake his head once more. "It wouldn't have been right. You were not even fifteen! It would've been wrong! For us to love each other and for me to take such a young woman's innocence!" Will inhaled deeply; running a hand through his hair. "By god, I... I was twenty-two! Don't you see how wrong it was?! How wrong it still is?!"

You honestly didn't understand what his problem was. It may have been wrong ten years back, but now?

"That may be right, Will, but..." You let your hand linger on his left pec for a moment, before you let your palm travel lower. And lower. And lower. Will's oceanic blue eyes followed your every move; widening when your hand settled on the zipper of his black trousers. "... you can take it now. I'm not a young girl anymore. I am a grown woman. Please... Don't deny me."

Your words send a shiver down Will's spine. A warm - almost hot shiver. The ends of his nerves sizzled and he could clearly feel the arousal start to grow within the pit of his stomach. Especially when he looked at your lust blown eyes; sparkling underneath the dim light under the street lamp.

Then you undid the zipper - and he felt a throb; something undeniably twitching alive. How... How in the Lord's name was he supposed to resist this temptation?

The answer to this question was found quickly... "Please, Will... Please..." You almost whispered; eyes full of desire, love - and want.

He couldn't.

Shaking hands reached for hips; pulling you swiftly closer. You stumbled against his chest - and before you knew what was happening, you felt Will's lips upon yours. This kiss was anything but innocent. It was fierce, passionate, demanding.

Somehow, you managed to open the main door and together you stumbled inside the house; lips - and hearts intertwined.

The world around the vicar stopped to spin when you sank together in the deepest oceans of pleasure. All he could feel was you.

#will ransome #the essex serpent #will ransome x reader #will ransome x you #will ransome x y/n #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston characters

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