#i kid you not i just wanted him to be fond of roses because he's fancy

[heliosphere-underthesky]

I have a question, what do Earth and Titan think of each other?

Earth: I once gave him a rose and he seemed enamoured by it! It was kinda cute. He said he'd love to have kept it at home when he finally learned how to grow one someday... I hope he does. Titan: Seeing that rose for the first time was an experience... it made me want to work harder at being able to sustain life like his! I hope someday I'll be able to achieve that. Earth is so cool!

He was amazed by that rose so much, that he tried to replicate it from memory with his atmosphere.

Titan is actually a fanboy for Earth! He's always looked up to Earth as a role model. Because of this, sometimes Saturn does invite Earth over for a cup of tea so that they can have a chat. Titan is pretty shy though, compared to the outgoing Earth and Saturn!

It was said there was an ice volcano nicknamed "The Rose" on Titan's surface, now better known as Sotra Patera.

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

NINE YEARS LATE

EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER

A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.

To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.

But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.

He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.

You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.

"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.

"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."

He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"

"No?"

'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.

But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.

'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.

There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.

It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.

"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."

You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"

Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.

"Then we keep having marathons until we do."

**

Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.

You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.

Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.

You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.

There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."

You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.

He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.

He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.

But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.

There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.

Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.

Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.

It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.

And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.

**

"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."

The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.

It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.

You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.

Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."

The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.

"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.

And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.

All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.

It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.

"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."

You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.

In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."

There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."

And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.

Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.

He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.

For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.

Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.

He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.

You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.

His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.

It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.

Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.

"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.

And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"

In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?

"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."

You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.

But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.

"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."

He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.

Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.

But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."

"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.

You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.

"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."

It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.

The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."

You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.

"What if I was?"

You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.

But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.

The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.

And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."

Oh.

Wait-

You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.

"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.

But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh."

It felt like you'd been utterly floored.

It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.

However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.

It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.

"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.

You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.

"Can I kiss you?"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish.

Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.

When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.

Clearly Eddie felt the same.

The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.

You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.

It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.

He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.

You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.

There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.

You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.

'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.

He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.

"What is?"

"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."

[rhenuvee]

Playing Animal Crossing New Horizons with HSR Men

Warnings: ugly villager slander, established relationship (can be platonic or romantic)

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Argenti: Your fellow knight of beauty grows quite fond of the game, immediately finding the freedom of creativity in decoration endearing. He always gives you compliments on your OOTD, and takes screenshots whenever you design a new area on your island. Argenti gave himself the gardening job- spending his bells on red rose seeds. He gets proficient in following the flower guide, and is very proud of himself if he ever gets a golden rose on your island. He loves the villagers, finding them each very cute, and even beauty in the "ugly" villagers. "Did you see the villagers wearing the red rose on their head? I must say I am flattered they love it so much. Though, I am more happy that they appreciate the beauty of our island." He enjoys documenting the beautiful places in your island with photos <3

Aventurine: From the beginning he points out the fact that Tom Nook is a capitalist, which makes you roll your eyes thinking he thinks this game is silly. However, it is quite the opposite as it doesn't take him long to get out of his home loan debt and is somehow extremely lucky. It's unfair to you that he could just log in on any given day and have the best deal for turnips. However because you are his favourite he says he’s willing to buy you whatever you want, he guesses. He happens to be able to catch rare species like the Coelacanth, and it infuriates you but you really can't be if it's helping the museum. "445 bells per turnip, sounds like music to my ears~" "What's that? You want this violin? Well I guess I could spare you a few bells... is one million okay?"

Blade: Let's not kid ourselves here- it takes a lot of convincing and help from Silver Wolf to get him to even be in the presence of Animal Crossing. He says he would much rather stand and look at the wall (SW: "You already do that everyday"). Eventually he sits himself next to you, and listens to your giddy rambling about what to do in the game while he puts on a serious face not saying anything. After the preliminary tutorial/startup gameplay, he finally says, “…why is this rat harassing me for money.” However, the loans aren't the worst but the villagers chasing him down are. He purposely ignores them and grumbles when you tell him to answer ):/. He prefers to watch you play, but because he sees you smile and laugh at his sarcastic comments, he thinks it's not so bad.

Boothill: He's definitely down to try it out, but he ends up being a bit of a troll. He doesn't really mind cute/ugly villagers, until he judges them for what they say. “That’s right, (y/n) did catch all those fish.” “Did he just ask me if he could call me Muffin.” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I GOTTA PAY ANOTHER LOAN?!!?” Yeah… he quickly feels the grindy-ness, complaining that Tom Nook was working him like a forkin’ dog. A little bit of comical rage, but he won’t lie he is enjoying it. He also asks if there are any guns and he is disappointed, so he opts for the net. He's a little rough and rowdy, but he does it in style. That being said, he 100% spends his extra bells on a cowboy outfit.

Dan Heng: He agrees instantly- aw :(. He knows you (and March) have been begging him to play. He’s is fairly good at it- gets out of the tent quickly, masters catching creatures, a nicely organized house… He’s quite resourceful too, chopping down trees and going to mystery islands to farm the heck out of it. The villagers love him, both of you often seeing them run to him with the little sparkly flowers. And even though he's normally serious, you can't help but fawn over how sweet he is with the villagers. "...She wants to call me Shmoopy, do I-" "YES." Villagers asking him to catch a fish? He's immediately on it. He remembers their names and treats them like real people :(

Dr. Ratio: "Is it educational?" Bro is such a nerd. You deadpan at him, and sass him for expecting this to be IXL or something. He is also one to get through the tutorial part easily. You expected him to be overly critical of the game, but he finds appreciation in the museum: both the creatures and the art. Is it a farfetched idea that I think he'd know how to tell the reals and fakes right off the bat? "Do you really think Da Vinci spilled coffee on his work?" At least it saves you the troubles of wasting your bells and getting a fake. I think your island would not be a mess, and would have at least a few statues (you know the ones) which add his touch to it.

Gallagher: Honestly he's happy as long as he gets a little area for himself. Kind of a wild card this one- somehow calm and chaotic at the same time, and it's puzzling because how is he doing such weird things with a straight face? Trolls the villagers quite a bit (he's lucky ACNH villagers are nice) by hitting them with a net (just once though) and giving them different catchphrases every time they ask. "Why is Bob saying 'spaghettini' at the end of his sentences?" "Um, because I thought it'd be funny? Also I'm kinda hungry so-" "Gallagher ):/" Despite the randomness, he is wholesome at times. He is also one to compliment your new outfit, and stargaze with you on the new area you decorated.

Gepard: He's busy so you weren't expecting too much from him, but he takes pride in having a well-rounded island. He gets so excited when he catches a new species that you don't have yet- what a cutie. Also goes full throttle when there's a bug-off or fishing tourney. Despite being a video game, I feel like there will be some way he messes up taking care of plants. The flowers overgrow, the turnips rot, and he doesn't understand why the trees aren't growing? But with some tips from you along with your island designing skills, your island rank moves up and he is BEAMING. "Zucker asked about you." "...he did?" "Mhm, he asked how you were doing, and said he saw you laying out pathways on the island."

Jing Yuan: He finds it so cute when you ask him to play. Lowkey like Blade where he likes watching your happy expressions when playing. He's happy that this game provides him a way to relax while not getting bored. Secretly an enjoyer of villager drama: "Wolfgang wants to apologize to Audie with this present. What happens if I don't deliver it?" "Again? Ah, just give it to her quickly." "...what if I don't." "...Jing Yuan." Oddly I feel like he'd enjoy the group stretching (what an old man), and encourages you to join. Like the "Dozing General" he is, there will be times when he's inactive and gets the bed head.

Luocha: You weren't expecting him to enjoy the game, but he's surprisingly willing to be resourceful. His storage is full of materials, which you scold him for because this is the reason for his empty undecorated house. But he always has things you need so you can't exactly complain. Also one to be pretty smart with managing bells and resources, able to maximize their worth. When the island gets visitors like Label or Flick, he has items ready. "Luocha... where did you get that coat?" "This? It's a designer piece, from Miss Label." I'd say he does have a sense of beauty in design, so thankfully your island is gorgeous.

Sampo: Sympathizes with Redd like a true scammer. "Aw look, he just needs a bit of money to get started... he even gave us a 'cousin's discount'." However, a rivalry starts with Redd when Sampo's first art piece turned out to be fake (scammer gets scammed moment). He asks if he can be the salesman that he's supposed to be. When villagers run up to him to offer bells for an item he has, he accepts thinking it'll get him a deal along the way. Unfortunately friendship gets you nowhere in terms of home loans. I'd say he's pretty good with the turnip stonks, so there's a balance. Also TRASH ISLAND. I'm sorry, but your man is a hoarder, "But what if I need this?" (Literally me.)

Welt: When you ask him to play he asks why the animals are crossing. He finds the style and characters are so cute, and he can see why you enjoy it. This is definitely a way he gets in touch with his "youthful" side. He loves the creative freedom in the game, even getting indecisive about how to design your island, and thinking of what outfit to wear. He once made a simple t-shirt for fun, but was surprised when he saw a villager wearing it. It'd be so cute and funny when he learns new emotes- and he just spams them with a straight face. Not gameplay related, but I feel like in his free time he'd draw you both in villager form <3.

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[tinydefector]

TINYYYYYYYYYY

Headcanon for human effect !!!!

Rodimus discovered how soft the ambassador is because once, they were in a meeting with UM and Megs about security protocols. Rodimus is bored a bit, so he tries to get the liaison's attention, in vain.

So he just... pokes them repeatedly in their side, because how else would he do that huh?

His digit dig a bit too much in their side, he can feel the warmth and the squishiness, and is surprise when they yelp and laugh.

"URGH!?- Rodimus! stop that it tickles hahaha!"

Oooooohh... ooh he has it baaaad... they just made the cutest noise he heard in a long time... he found their weak spot...

Megs and Mags just stare at him disappointed because the captain is unfocused and disturb the Ambassador.

Twisted ankle 13

Human effects Masterlist

Prev

Next

Word count: 2k

Warnings: post smut, getting walked in on.

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The sound of shuffling and slight movement in the room is what makes the ambassador,  bleary eyes cracking open slightly as they take the form of a blue mech in. "Mmm Traxies?" They call out softly looking up from where they lay against Ratchet's chassis. 

Ratchet's optics online fractionally to see Traxies frozen mid-stride, jaw hanging open in blatant surprise. Drift stirred awake as well, arching a brow plate at youngling in undisguised amusement. 

Venting softly, Ratchet greeted their charge in familiar tones. "Good morning, Traxies. Causing trouble already, before the sun cycle?" Traxes gulped audibly, tripping over his pedes in haste to explain. "J-just wanted some energon, don't mind me! Uh - didn't mean to interrupt..." He trailed off, wide optics roving over the three in utter disbelief. 

Drift finally lost composure, snickering into his servo. Ratchet merely cycled a ventilation, serenely cradling the now-wakening ambassador. They pull their blanket closer in embarrassment being caught in such an undress state.

 Traxes cycled his optics rapidly, pedes rooted to the floor in awkward shock. "Uh, hey Ambassador. Fancy seeing you here..." He trailed off, field pulsing distressed embarrassment. Drift took pity, sending the younger mech. "Relax, kid. But you might want to be quick before this becomes anymore awkward for everyone”  

The medic frowned half-heartedly before turning a softer expression to Traxies. "I wasn't aware you would be back today." His tone is soft. Traxes shuffled awkwardly, kicking at imaginary scrapes on the floor. "So you - uh, fraggin' my friend now?" He blurted before wilting under Ratchet's stern glare. 

Drift howled laughter, drawing a foam pillow and lobbing it at the pouting youngling's helm. "Don't get your wires knotted! Go fuel up, we'll be along shortly." With a mumbled apology, Traxes beat a hasty retreat.

The Ambassador groans and presses their face into Ratchet chassis out of embarrassment. "Fuck" They mumble as the feeling Drift move to get out of berth. Their body felt like jelly and they truly didn't want to move, but knew they had to.  Ratchet's chassis hums beneath the ambassador's cheek. "There now, no harm done," the medic soothed gently. 

Drift stretched languidly as he rose, pausing to send them both fond smile. "He'll get over it. Ain't the first time that mechlet's walked in on more'n he bargained for." 

Ratchet rumbled a quiet chuckle, stroking their back with utmost care."Stay as long as you need." He whispered to them. They let out a sigh. "I've got work today Ratchet, Bridge command meeting about our next port and sending reports back to Cybertron. I think we might also be heading back to Cybertron. I don't look forward to having a holo meeting with Prowl again" they explain. 

Ratchet let out a theatrical groan at the Ambassador's words. "Primus spare us all from Prowl and his endless bureaucracy," he grumbled. 

Rising smoothly, he settled their draped guest against the berth with utmost care as he recovered their clothing and bag. "Well then, best get you ready, can't have you leaving looking a mess sweet thing." 

Drift poked his helm back in, wearing an impish grin. "Sounds like Ratch better patch you up right quick, Ambassador. Can't be limping through a vid call with Prowl looking like you spent the night trapped under this lugnut!" 

A rude gesture was the medic's only response, though his weathered faceplates crinkled with wry humour. "Scoot, you rusting gearstick - go make yourself useful." 

"Ratchet, Drift. Thank you for last night, it was lovely" they call to the two mechs before turning around with their clothing in hand to try and get dressed despite how sore they still are. 

“Pah, don't go getting all sappy now," Ratchet huffed, 

"Anytime you need a couple mechs to help...relax tensions," Drift coos only for Ratchet to swat the mech away, vents gusting irritation. But his optics shone with plain affection as they tracked the Drift's movements. "Take care on your travels and try not to let Prowl's do you in" 

Leaving the suite was a struggle, not wanting to get caught as they left. But walking down the halls with a slight limp was something they could easily state as twisting their ankle.

 Just as the ambassador rounded the corner, two familiar figures fell into step beside them - Nadia and Millian, matching grins stretching across their faces.

"Well well, look who finally decided to crawl out of bed," Nadia drawled archly, shamelessly raking her gaze over the ambassador's slightly dishevelled state. "Quite a night, hm?" 

Millian snickered, throwing an arm around their shoulders. "You dog! Spill the deets - whose bed were you warming, to work up such a limp?" Their smirk made clear they already guessed the culprits. 

Wincing, the ambassador tried to shrug them off with little success. "Nothing to tell. I'd prefer to keep my private business private, if you don't mind." 

But Nadia was having none of it, sidling close to share a conspicuous wink. "Ooh, getting cosy with the bot brass, are we? Can't say I blame you - they do know how to show a human a good time." 

Her grin widened at the ambassador's flustered face, taking their silence as confirmation enough. "Guys enough, I'm already in a  bad position if 'this' " they make a hand gesture at the two. "Gets out to Earth or Cybertron, it will be my neck in a noose so please don't" they try to settle the matter. They did enjoy chatting with Nadia and Millian but this was against regulation and if Megatron,  Rodimus or Ultra Magnus got whiff of it, it could mean their job on the Lost light.

Nadia and Millian sobered slightly at the ambassador's sombre tone, exchanging glances. "Alright, alright, we'll can it with the teasing," Nadia sighed, giving their arm a gentle squeeze. "You know we've got your back, yeah? No way would we see you in real trouble."

Millian nodded earnestly. "You're one of us, Ambassador - we look out for our own." Their grin returned, softer around the edges. "But hey, if anyone asks, you definitely did NOT just limp out of Ratchet's quarters. Cross my heart!" 

Nadia snickered, nudging them playfully. Her smile turned sincere as she studied their friend's tired yet peaceful expression. "And between us? I'm glad you found a little respite aboard this floating madhouse. We all need that, now and then."

"Thank you, I'll give you guys some details later but I do have a meeting with bridge command and I need to try and make it look like I didn't just crawl out of bed with two mechs" they mumble softly only for the two to give them a look of pure shock.

"Two?!" Millian echoes in a frankly scandalised yelp. Nadia elbows them sharply, making frantic shushing motions with her hands. 

"Keep it down, you idiot!" She hisses under her breath before turning back to the ambassador with gleaming eyes. "Well well, you little minx - getting cosy with both the medic and robo Samurai" Her grin is positively wolfish. 

concern shadows Millian’s gaze. "Just be careful, Ambassador. Fraternisation regs or no - getting tangled up with high command could spell trouble if word spreads." 

Nadia nods earnestly. "They're right. Not that we don't support you, but..." she fidgets, taking their hands, giving a gentle squeeze. 

"Both Ratchet and Drift made it clear they don't expect anything from me. offered if I need stress relief I was welcome. Plus Ratchet would rather know what I'm getting up to Incase he needs to perform medical on me" they whisper to them as the three walk towards the Ambassador's next stop.

"Hmm. Well that's reasonable enough, I suppose," Nadia muses pragmatically, though a glint of mischief remains in her eyes. "And who could resist the charms of those two mechs? You do have excellent taste, I'll give you that." 

Millian grin softens as they near the lift that will take the ambassador to their meeting. "Jokes aside, I'm glad you've found comfort here, weird ship though it is. Not the life any of us expected, but..." 

They shrugs amicably. "We make the most of what joys we can. And there are certainly perks to rubbing plating with the people in charge." A final wink, and Millian steps back with Nadia, offering a casual salute. 

"Knock 'em dead at the meeting, Ambassador. And try not to limp too obviously" they chuckle as the lift doors close. 

Megatron is sitting looking rather bored, but his optics light up when he sees the Ambassador a small smile graces his faceplate.  Magnus gives a small nod while Rodimus smiles like a fool waving before making his way towards them. "Hello Rodimus,  sorry I twisted my ankle earlier and it's not pleasant to walk" they chuckle softly hoping the lie passed over their helms without making them question how. 

Magnus merely nodded greeting, ever professional and stern. "Let us proceed with the agenda. Your tardiness sets us behind schedule." 

Rodimus, of course, could not be contained. "Oof, rough night? Happens to the best of us!" He moves towards them with a smile. "Ratchet patch you up okay?" 

Ultra Magnus sighed heavily. "Captain, please. We are in the midst of official proceedings." 

"I'm alright, Ratchet said it will be fine nothings broken, just going to be sore for a bit." They confirm to Rodimus as the mech picks them up and brings them to the table. Rodimus continues to let his servos and digits poke the Ambassador. Making them fidget. 

"Have we heard from Optimus if we have been requested to return to Cybertron, he was rather worried about Traxies, or if Galactica Union has asked for a new report on our recent travels?" They inquire dreading and hoping they didn't have to have another holo meeting with Prowl. 

Megatron studied the interplay with optics gleaming curiosity. " Captain, do cease your pestering the Liason." His field pulsed amusement as Rodimus reluctantly set the squirming human down. "To answer your query, Ambassador - I'm afraid your schedule remains as packed as ever. Word from Prime requests our return within the decacycle, and the Union demands their tedious status updates with predictable punctuality." 

Ultra Magnus nodded curt approval. "And Prowl as well, regarding the security details and records of the ship. He requires an immediate vid conference to...discuss developments." Rodimus groaned dramatically. "Ugh, leave it to Prowl to ruin a perfect morning. Why can't he just lurk in the shadows like Megs here and let us have our fun?" 

Megatron shoots Rodimus a glare but does make an effort to dignify Rodimus’ remark. "Ah sounds about right, I can't convince one of you to handle the Prowl meeting? I will happily deal with Optimus or the Galactica union, and take on extra work. Please" they nearly beg, only to yelp as Rodimus' digits run up their side  making them stiffen not expecting the contact. "Rodimus!"

Megatron observed with growing amusement as the small human squirmed fruitlessly in Rodimus's mischievous grasp. "Captain, tormenting them will not make their tasks any easier." 

He turned a gaze of singular intent upon Ultra Magnus. "I believe a request was made, Magnus. And as holders of far greater stamina and patience with the Enforcer, taking the meeting would be a small alleviation to your schedule, would it not?"

Magnus's field pulsed reluctance but duty compelled as expected. "Very well. As ranking officer, handling communication with Alliance High Command falls under my purview. I will handle Prowl at the scheduled time."

Rodimus whooped with glee, finally releasing the frazzled ambassador. "Looks like you're off the hook! Maybe you can help me with some more of those charts you were showing me last time so I can get better at reading them." He grinned down at them. 

They slowly lean back into Rodimus as they talk with Megatron and Ultra Magnus. "I'll make sure we are stocked for the trip back, do you need to organise anyone for the quantum generators maintenance?" The Ambassador asks, shuttering again as Rodimus continues to touch them.

Ultra Magnus cleared his intake, field broadcasting discomfort yet compelled as ever by duty. "I will see to ensuring all systems are fully prepped and operational for transit. Your role is coordination with our human team so they are set for a quantum jump, Ambassador."

Rodimus fairly purred against the human's back, appreciating how warm their smaller frame is against his. They are so soft and plush in his servos and primus he doesn't want to let go of them. 

____________

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[unconventional-lawnchair]

Desperate Love {Blurb}

Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x Reader / Wolfstar

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary: the moment you and Sirius found you were no good for each other. (This is a I'll Look After You / We'll Heal Together blurb to expand their relationship, not meant as a standalone but could be read that way)

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Alcoholism, mentions of emotional infidelity, children, cussing, Sirius is mean and drunk, Right person wrong time

Wc-2855

A/N: There will be another post of the actual series soon!

Taglist- @otterlockholmes @stylesann @adhxmoony

You and Sirius stayed that whole night. Cleaning up around the place, taking care of Harry, and keeping the volume low.  Remus came over and you and him worked to distract Harry and Sirius took a nap. That really only consisted of him staring at the muggle tv and flicking through channels. When the actual parents returned you and Sirius went home.

You went home and had one of the most vicious fights you had ever had.

When you and Sirius finally returned to your cottage, it was still early morning. The familiar smell of Sirius’s black candles, his cologne, the subtle left over smell of burning oak from the fireplace and your perfume filled the small space. It smelt like home. 

You had grown so familiar, so comfortable, with the man behind you. Taking off your thick coat and hanging it for you, smiling softly as you turned to do the same. Everything you two had become was pure domestic bliss, a relationship modeled off your desires and not outside influence. Your relationship was so unapologetically you. 

Sometimes that was the worst part.

You swayed your way into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare you and your fiance something to eat. You could feel his eyes on you, but he stayed quiet. Usually when he got like this he liked to stay mellow, but conversation never hurt. There was something you had been meaning to ask him, something you should have brought up years ago.

“You know, being around Harry, it makes you think.” You hummed and took down two mugs, starting to fiddle with the muggle coffee maker Lily gifted you.

“Think of what?” Sirius mumbled as he sat at the table and continued to stare at you. You glanced at him and slowly smiled, turning to face him fully. 

“Lily and James. They were living. Truly living.” You gave a breathy sigh of fondness. “I admire it. Starting a family at a time like this.”

You used to wear rose tinted glasses. So in love with the idea of love, that your independent choices of who you loved made all the difference. You weren't marrying Sirius because your parents wanted you to, you were marrying him because you chose to. It was a hazy kind of bliss with the Black heir.

“Don't you think it's a bit.. foolish?” Sirius mumbled into his palm as he pulled down a book from the top of the counter and pretended to flick through the pages. You paused and slowly furrowed your brow, turning to face him. Watching as his jaw clenched and his hollowed cheeks dented. 

“Foolish? Sirius, you were just telling them how happy you were about it.” You challenged and set the coffee cup down, Sirius never hesitated to say what he meant. You strained your lips, walking towards him curiously. Sirius had been ecstatic at the wedding, he had told the two the very words of praise you were speaking now. Sirius wouldn't lie so casually... You tried to catch his eye but he avoided you, he knew how well you could read him. One look in his eyes and he knew you'd see every thought, no magic required.

“Sirius, what's on your mind?” You pried and he shook his head.

“I don't want kids.” He interjected instantly. Pressing his thumb to his cheek. You felt like you had just been slapped in the face.

Now, your relationship with Sirius Black was fragile. Not that you both didn't understand what it truly was. You've loved him for three years, and he's sworn his devotion to you several times over those few years. You were both love sick and dangerous together, one of the many reasons you weren't allowed on missions together. It was like you both had something to prove.

How it all started, however? Sirius would call himself a rebound. Self deprecation was his best way to respond to the idea you had in fifth year, after Remus broke your heart. Your relationship was innocent to start, but Sirius would always toe the line. To the point James would tease you both to just go through with the wedding.

“Why don't we?” You remarked, your head lifting from Sirius shoulder and leaned forward on the couch.

“What?” Sirius muttered, looking like a deer in headlights.

“At least get engaged. If we do, we would both get access to our gringotts accounts. It was our parents only stipulation.” You continued and Sirius gave a small scoff.

“Even if I did marry you, dearest, my parents would never let me see a knut.” He chuckled, voice cracking a bit. Especially when you sent him that devilish grin.

“That's just it. It's up to the bank, not her.” You mused and Sirius slowly smirked. “You are insane.” He laughed and you bit your tongue, trying to hide a smirk.

“But as always, brilliant.” He purred and leaned down to kiss your palm, making your laugh.

It wasn't surprising the only person in the friend group who seemed against it was Remus. Even Lily supported the outlandish plan. Get engaged, collect your accounts, and call it off.

You never followed through with that last part.

“You.. don't want kids?” You repeated, a bit baffled. You had never once mentioned wanting to have a family with Sirius, but he had always made it painfully clear that was what he wanted. At least, that's what you thought.

He made absolutely sure the cabin could hold a family, two rooms, public space, a field to run in. He told you about the ideas he had, sending a child with his last name to a muggle school for his first few years would spite his mother in the best of ways. How having you as a wife was the best curse he was ever gifted by the hag. Not fiancé, wife.

It never once crossed your mind he didn't want this too.

“I don't want kids.” He muttered and you gave a deep sigh through your nose. 

“That's.. that's a discussion for later.” You whispered and looked away from him. He scoffed, and you closed your eyes, sighing. When he got like this, you knew he was looking for a reaction. A reaction you refused to give.

“I don't want kids. There will be no discussion about it.” He grumbled and stood up.

You rubbed your temple and tried to focus your once loving and excitable energy on the more serious topic. The conversation he seemed so desperate to have.

He watched you try and calm yourself before he began to stand and grabbed his coffee cup and the expensive bottle of scotch on the shelf you had since you first moved in. James’s house warming gift.

You watched him start to open it and winced a bit. “Sirius, please, not now of all times.” You whispered and he scoffed.

“Seems appropriate. I just watched you play house with my best mate for hours, might as well.” His words were bitter and to the point, cutting through the rose tints you adorned and let you see the house more clearly. Thick layer of dust clinging to the lights you never clean, the hazy warmth of the yellow glow seemed much more like a medical white, and Sirius Black looked like the boy you hoped stayed at Hogwarts. Bitter and childish. Sharp and unapologetic.

He reminded you of what this was.

Once you processed what he said, you gawked at him. Eyes wide before your expression turned to slight anger as he continued to open the bottle and poured himself a decent amount of liquor, shooting it back. You watched as his hair fell down his jaw and seemed to frame the pale bobbing throat.

Sirius had just broken this habit, closing in on himself at the slightest push back. As if the demand of affections and attention from someone he didn't think he deserved was too much for him, and seeing Remus, someone Sirius seemed to believe was perfect for you, look at you like you could ail all his illnesses, mend every wound physically for emotion. Wounds Sirius himself marked you both with, it was pushing him closer and closer to an end you couldn't bare to see him meet.

“Sirius, you can't possibly be genuine.” You spoke carefully and Sirius gave a bitter laugh over the tail end of your words. Your expression turned sour, trying to hold back as your body shook and your shoulders square. You were fantastic with confrontation. Not when no party was truly in the wrong. There was no enemy in these matches of wit and skillful pin pricks to your hearts, aiming to scar more often than not.

“Do you think I'm daft, {L/N}?” 

It was always the same conversation, the same points that broke skin on contact and contracted around your throat. Like the snake he was born to be, a boa to your neck and a cottonmouth striking you deaf. He wasn't the lion he claimed to be on nights like this.

He was a coward, hiding behind the drinks he threw back. Tomorrow, he would act as if nothing had happened. Showering you with adoration and love he swore he could take from you without a blink of an eye the night before.

“Don't-” You were too, a coward, that was. The snake you were born to be, the snake you became, coiling in itself and begging for him to loosen his grasp and return to your game of pretend. 

“You don't think I see how he looks at you?” He slammed the mug on the counter. “He isn't over you. He saw you with Harry and I swear I could have offered him a cure for his furry problem and he wouldn't have looked away!” His voice boomed and you shook your head, turning to walk away. It pained you beyond belief to be reminded of how cruel he could be. How much of a Black he truly would become when rage met his weaknesses. He hated weakness, love was weakness. Some days, that was all you needed to know he loved you. His cruelty. 

Sirius let out another string of profanities.

“I'm not doing this. No. We just got some fantastic news, Sirius. We just met our godson. You will not spoil it with your nonsense!” You shouted back and he took another shot. Drowning himself into the numbing elixir, taking away none of his pain and replacing his relational thought with reactive passion. You seemed to pick them that way, Severus, Sirius, Remus… Behaviors begging for reaction. Begging for you to care.

“You want a child so bad? Go and have Lupin’s. I'm sure he's more than happy to provide that service. Right after he's done howling at the moon and feeding on-.” Sirius declared to the roof, hands outstretched. You did your best to level yourself out, but slander to your shared friends was not something you could ignore.

“Sirius Black! You bite your tongue!” You shouted back and he scoffed, making you roll your jaw and close your eyes. Trying to steady your breathing. You hated to be angry. “... Sirius, it's been a long night. We haven't slept yet, you're drinking,” You gestured to him pouring yet another shot. Sighing heavily. “I want to sleep. I just- let's not talk about this.”

“Just like you. You're just so ready to drop it. Why's that? Hm? You don't want to slip up? Admit you want him too?” He taunted like a child. You shook your head and tried to calm yourself further. Reminding yourself every strike he took at you wasn't for you. It's a manifestation of his own feelings of guilt and stress, his awful and over used love language.

“Sirius, you're being cruel and vindictive-”

“Merlin, woman! Will you talk to me like a person! Forget the self help books! Tell me what you really feel!”

“You want to know how I truly feel?” You snapped back and he seemed to respond more the more angry you got.

“Yes! Merlin, finally! Give me a fucking crumb of life in your words. Like you bloody mean it!” He ranted and you began to pace, mirroring his erratic movements through the kitchen, as he waited impatiently. Your snake ready to strike as he continued to hiss and brandish his fangs at you.

“I think you think I'm a fool.” You shouted at him and he seemed absolutely giddy at the reaction. “I think you are hurting me because you're in pain and won't admit it!”

“That so?” He gave a laugh and it made you flinch. “I'm in pain? Is that what that book you love to read diagnoses me with? Oh, Doctor, what are my woes?” He prodded and you snatched the drink away from him as he tried to pour himself more. You capped it and sealed it away in the cabinet of other half drank bottles from arguments and parties over the years. “I think you're the fool? You're the fool who doesn't know what's going on in my head?”

“Yes! I think you think I'm a fool. Sirius, you want me to give up on you.” You demanded with a chilling calm. Sirius didn't seem pleased with this. 

“Either that or you think I'd just ignore the painful fact that you've been in love with Remus since Hogwarts!” You snapped back and his jaw went slack. You stared daggers at him and he suddenly tightened his expression, your snake clinging to his neck and injecting years worth of your bane. He wasn't so excited anymore.

“What are you talking about?”

“The glitter incident? The jealous looks? The constant badgering? The dance? You clung to him like he was the last man on this earth.” You rattled on, speaking over Sirius whenever he opened his mouth. “I believe you love me, Sirius. I really do. But you need to analyze what exactly is making you so jealous about me and Remus. Is it that he's in love with me? Or is it that it's not you?”

Sirius slowly set his mug down and you sighed. Taking a few more breaths before you spoke slowly. “No one calls their friend ‘My Moony,’ Sirius. No one does. No one convinces his friends to keep a mandrake leaf in their mouth for a month to help them through a full moon. One friend who can't bloody shut up!” 

You stopped your pacing and stared daggers into his eyes. He was speechless, paralysis from your venom taking over as he stammered to collect himself.

“I don't.. I..” Sirius’s voice was low, as if he was grappling with the news himself. You stared at him in shock. How had he not realized?

“I thought loving you would be enough.” You spoke carefully, steady, and Sirius shook his head. Flushed from the buzz in his mind. “I do love you, you know that? I think it's unfair. You love us both, but I'm wrong for wanting Remus in my life?”

You stepped closer and got a good look at his eyes, finally able to see the turmoil and desperation behind it. Then you found it. So much regret you yourself almost fell into it. “.. I'm over him, Sirius.” You whispered softly. “I have been waiting for you to be too. Merlin, you,” your breath caught in your throat. “You haven't even asked about a wedding date.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Truly regretting drinking. Slowly, he shook his head and rubbed the bottom of his palms against his eyes. “... it seems you've given me too much credit.” He muttered.

Your throat tightened and you slowly closed your eyes. “I love you, Sirius.”

“And him.”

“You.” You repeated. “And I think you need to get your priorities in order. I truly do. I thought love would turn you into a man I deserve, like this would be the answer but,” You gestured to the alcohol. “It hadn't been. You made a choice at Hogwarts, and I think we both know you regret it.”

Sirius began to swirl his half empty coffee mug and stared down at the brown drink. He wet his lips and gave a strained laugh. “I think we both do.” He whispered and you closed your eyes. 

“Figure it out, Sirius.” You whispered and pulled off the ring from your finger, setting it on the counter. You don't look at Sirius, but you could hear his sound of defeat. Instantly the regret rushed over him.

“{Y/N}-”

“When you are ready for me. I will be proud to wear it. Until then, figure out what you want.”

You waited months for Sirius to come back to you, tell you everything he's learned and lost, that he didn't want to lose you. He never did.

There was fault in both sides. You didn't ask him to forget about Remus, you wouldn't be so hypocritical. You wanted him to choose you. He never did, it was a reminder that it was simply a plan. A plan you should have cut off years ago.

[bluetimeombre]

──•~❉᯽❉ Third times the charm

Tom and you met over zoom whilst auditioning for your roles in the ballad of songbirds and snakes. Instant attraction and the chemistry was off the charts, everyone could see it, even you two fools. In every interview you did, as co-stars, as best friends and finally, as a couple…

(from me: hi, sorry, I’m dying for Tom Blyth content so I made so myself. I can't bring myself to write y'/n so i'm just going with 'you.' But I wrote it so you're british, oops. This is also to make up for choosing timmy in the 'call it what you want to' series, for the tom girlies, enjoy!)

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

' How well do the stars of Ballad of songbirds and snakes know each other? - Vanity Fair. '

Tom, you and Josh sat together in the Vanity Fair studio. While Tom kept his cards close to his chest (literally), you and Josh waited anxiously. You were sure you would win though, even Josh was sure you would win. Tom and you had spent almost every day together all year. People in the studio- who had only caught a ten minute glimpse of your friendship- knew your souls were made together.

'First question,' said Tom, pulling the cards back further. 'What is my biggest fear?'

Josh slapped his knee in frustration and you slumped in your chair, laughing to yourself. You must know, surely. 'Mine is gonna be, probably, a little bit more shallow,' said Josh before you could even make a guess.

You rose your brows focusing on a specific point on the floor. 'Shallow?'

Tom rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. His lips were tilted in a fond smile at her concentration. 'You ok?' he laughed, 'you know this- you've got this.'

'No, I do know this, you've told me,' you say.

'You've told her?' gasped Josh.

'I've probably told you!' said Tom. He seemed completely absent minded over the fact he was still holding onto your shoulder, massaging it gently.

'Ok, I think it's- ironically- snakes. That's my guess.' Finally, you breath and cross your legs over.

'Interesting. Josh?' he asked, taking his hand from you. (Maybe eagle eyed fans would see the way his hand flexed at his side, just under the chair. And maybe twitter would blow up with the Mr Dracy like move.)

'I was gonna say mountain lions.'

You and Tom laughed. 'That's more shallow?'

'In what way is that more Shallow?' Tom laughed.

Josh gesture wildly to you. 'I thought you were gonna say something more conceptual.'

'Oh sorry,' you apologise.

Josh leant back on his chair. 'Yea, you should be.'

Tom finished writing on the card. 'So, it was my childhood fear, which I've obviously gotten over but it was-' he turned the card, revealing his scribble. 'Snakes.'

'Yes!' you cheered. 'I knew it!'

'I think it's because I used to watch a lot of Indiana Jones as a kid and because he was afraid of snakes, I think it transferred on to me,' he explained.

'Makes sense,' you shrugged.

'Cool people are afraid of snakes,' Tom agreed.

'And mountain lions,' added Josh, causing your cheeks to heat up with laughter. There was probably nobody who could be so nonchalant in how he makes you laugh.

'Point to you!' cheered Tom, holding up his hand. Quickly you high-fived him and held his hand for a flickering moment before moving on.

'What is my go-to karaoke song?'

You were safe to say, gob-smacked. You swivel in your seat, eyes wide. 'You have a go-to karaoke song?'

He stares at you, just as shocked at your surprise. 'We all do.'

'We do?' you asked. 'Then what the hell is Josh's?' you turn to him, curious.

'9 to 5, Dolly Parton,' he said, seriously. But even that got you cracking up.

'I expect one of you to know this,' said Tom, scribbling his song choice.

'Oh, no pressure then,' you said.

'We went to karaoke all the time.'

'Yes but I don't remember all the song,' you fold your arms over your chest, chewing down on your lips.

'Oh no,' Josh hunched over and you pat his back, mumbling to yourself. 'I feel like- I wanna say it was some punk-rock thing.'

'Do you want a clue?' Tom offered.

'Yes!' Josh.

'No!' You.

'Ok, not then,' said Tom, deciding.

'Wait, no, that's not fair,' Josh complained, 'I want a clue.'

Tom shrugged, holding out his arms. 'Boss said.'

'Yea I don't know why I said that,' you laugh, still thinking. You remember him singing to you, in your trailers or hanging out on set. He or you would strum a guitar and sing together. But karaoke?

'Mambo number 5,' Josh announced.

'Mambo number 5,' Tom checked.

Your brows scrunched up. 'That's punk rock?'

Josh looked at you, then remembered what he was saying. 'No, i'm gonna change mine to all the small things.'

'Ok, your guess?' asked Tom, nudging you.

'Oh I don't know,' you shrug, 'Sexy back, Justin Timberlake.'

'Close!'

'I was close?' you gasp, jumping up in your seat.

'It was,' he shows the card. 'Senorita, Justin Timberlake.'

You and Josh laughed together.

'I don't think I ever heard you sing that!' Josh argued.

'We definitely did, definitely.'

Josh shook his head, body shaking with laughter. 'I don't think I even know the words to the song.'

Tom shifted in his seat, changing cards. 'That's the point of Karaoke, they're up on the screen'

You turn to him, face screwed up and holding onto his knee. 'That's not the point of karaoke babe,' you said solemnly. It was a joke between the cast, how often you called people babe. As a brit. Sometimes you even said it in a Gemma Collins way.

'Anyway, half a point to you!'

You fist pump the air while Josh complains loudly. Whilst bickering, Tom moved on and had to repeat the question.

'What is my favourite mode of New York transportation?' he asked.

You chuckled to yourself, rubbing your head. 'That is the funniest question ever.'

Tom scoffed, his lips curling up. 'How is that a funny question?'

'I've just never known transportation to come up in one of our conversations. Imagine meeting someone and being like 'hey, guess what? my favourite mode of transport is...''

Josh laughed at the hurt look on Tom's face and your own sarcasm.

'Oh yea, what is it then?'

'Your motorcycle,' you said obviously.

'Well, you knew it didn't you,' he pointed out. The two of you bickering like a married couple. Even the crew behind the scene were blushing at you two and laughing.

'I didn't get to guess!' erupted Josh.

Tom and you laughed, holding onto each other and apologising to him.

Josh leant back in his chair, throwing his leg over his knee. 'Ok so motorcycle but i'm gonna go the extra mile and say- I think it's a Honda.'

Tom calmed down, wiping tears of laughter before showing the camera his answer. 'It is motorcyle but Josh is wrong, it's not a Honda so the point goes to you.'

You pat yourself on the back while Josh looks into the camera.

'This is what happens when you give 110%. Is this the example we want to set?'

Tom rests his hand on your back, un-consciously rubbing it. 'Ok so, point to you and Josh gets ... three quarters of a point.'

You nod your head. '75%. Have you got any points?'

Josh glared at you. He then noticed Tom's hand resting on your back. 'Why are you comforting her? i'm the loser.'

You clicked your tongue, pushing him. It was lucky you didn't notice how Tom blushed, turning back to his cards and made a mental note to keep his hands to himself.

The three of you continued down the questions:

'If I weren't an actor, what profession would I be?' Tom

'What are you? writing down a novel there?' You

'You'd definitely work with mountain lions.' Josh

'For some reason I want to say Fire man but that's not it.' You

'What is my coffee order?' Tom

'Oh, I know this, it's the same as mine. Josh, you know this?' You

'Of course not.' Josh

'What is my biggest pet peeve?' Tom

'So many things come to mind.' You

'Am I a grumpy old man to you?' Tom

'Tom has always been so relaxed and easy going, go ahead and put a point down for me.' Josh

For the next question, Tom looked pointedly at you. 'I really hope you get this. What is my hidden talent?'

Josh looked seriously at Tom, only suddenly playing the game. 'I think I know what mine is.'

'I think you should both get this,' he said, writing down the answer.

'Whistling,' you guessed simply.

Tom quipped his lips at you, head moving slightly.

'Well, I was also gonna say whistling,' Josh smirked.

Tom laughed. 'You're so full of shit.'

'I said it first, you're good at whistling. You can whistle like a disney bird,' you said, trying to win more points in flattery.

'Thank you.'

You looked into the camera. 'Tom's actually going to be playing a bird in the new Snow White movie with Rachel Zegler.'

The boys laughed.

Tom nodded, turning around the card. 'The answer is whistling.'

Josh and you shake hands and Tom started to show of his whistling skills, the familiar tune of the hunger games and holding up three fingers.

'I was- that made me nervous,' said Tom shakily.

'Yea, you were shaking,' you said.

Tom reached out for your arm, before remembering before and pulling back. 'I know, did you see my lip quivering.'

'I was nervous for you.'

'Yea, yea, yea,' agreed Tom.

Josh pretended to get out of his seat. 'I should go, i'll leave you guys to it.'

You pulled him back down while Tom moved on, asking the couple final questions. It ended with you earing 6 points, while Josh was at a lousy 2.75. But then, it was yours and Josh's turn to 'flip the script' on Tom. If he got them wrong, you guys got the points so you'd made sure to chose difficult questions.

You just hadn't expected Tom to know everything.

'Tom.'

'Yes,' he stared intently, ready for anything.

'What is my dogs name?' you smirked, thinking he wouldn't remember. Since you were on set and then traveling for press your dog was staying with your family and Tom had only met him once or twice.

'Easy. Padfoot.'

Your brows dropped and you turned away, pressing your lips into a tight line.

Tom nudged you. 'Did you think I wouldn't get it?' he asked and his jaw-dropped when you nodded. 'Of course i'd get it, I love your boy.'

'What the hell is a Padfoot?' asked Josh.

'It doesn't matter,' you waved of, trying to distract yourself from blushing. You really didn't think Tom would get it, would care enough to remember.

'It's a Harry Potter thing,' explained Tom. He stretched out his arm so it held onto the back of your chair. Not touching, right.

Josh asked his question. Tom got it right again and you were looking down at your card, wondering if it was hard enough for him.

Tom watched you set the cards down, tuck your chin into your chest and put your hands behind your chair. 'Oh no,' he chuckled.

'There is a piece of jewellery that I always wear. Now obviously i couldn't wear it whilst filming, but I had it kept in my trailer. And after we wrapped it went straight back on. The question is what piece of jewellery is it?'

Josh was laughing and trying to guess himself while Tom panicked. Every day for a year he had been around you. He'd had lunch with you, hung out in your trailer, you'd nap together and laugh together. He's seen you swimming in nothing but a lovely swim suit. He'd held your hands and you guys had even worn each others rings. How could he not know? He was beating himself up about it, all the while you smirked at him. Tom could almost excuse the fact of being a shitty friend to see how giddy it got you.

He tried to peek behind the chair but you shifted. 'Ok I don't think it's a ring because you change up your rings a lot.'

'Ok,' you hum.

Tom pulled at his lip. You weren't hiding your ears so it couldn't be an earing. That's when he remembered. Tom clicked his fingers. 'It's your locket! and it's gold!'

You sit up straight. 'How?!' Tom immediately looked to your neck- or maybe it was closer to your chest- where your locket dangled just under your shirt 'Well, I think we know who knows each other the best!'

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

Some months later, about eight, you and Tom were back at a quiz. The two of you were starring in different things. Tom's series which he stared in, 'Billy the kid' was having it's third and final debut while you staring in a adaptation of 'Malibu Rising' by Taylor Jenkins Reid for Apple Tv.

' The BFF test! ' - Glamour.

'How do you think we're gonna do?' asked Tom.

'That's not even a question Tom, we're gonna do great!' you threw a thumbs up at the camera and Tom copied you with a grin.

'Let's do this shit!' he yelled.

The crew behind the camera gasped and laughed while you hunched over, chuckling. He realised his mistake, how he wasn't supposed to swear and put his hand over his mouth.

'I am so sorry,' he apologised. Only when you caught your breath did you stand up and hold onto him. His arm wrapped around you back, holding you too.

Eventually, once you two had regained yourselves, you were asked how well you think you know each other.

'Pretty well,' you said.

'Very well,' Tom corrected.

'Very well it is, very well it is,' you said.

The crew behind the camera asked when you first met.

'Over zoom,' you said.

Tom nodded. 'it was a chemistry read for hunger games. Coriolanus and Lucy-Grey. You sang an acoustic version of Silver springs and I watched.'

'And the rest is history. Inseparable ever since,' you smile, swaying side to side while Tom watched with a fond smile. 'But seriously, it was a very lovely moment and since then, i've had a best friend in Tom.'

'Aw,' he said, throwing an arm around your shoulder and drawing you in. 'I love this girl,' he told the camera.

Eventually, once the two of you were finished with the introductions they had you stand opposite each other with a small notebook and pen. Your task: to write a compliment about each other.

Tom was already writing down his, page being filled up quickly. 'How much time you got?'

'Done,' you said, closing your notebook.

Tom looked up. 'What?'

'I'm kidding,' you assured him at his shocked and maybe slightly hurt face. 'How are you writing so much?'

'I have a lot to say about you.'

'Sappy.'

'Shut it, you love it.' Tom was focused on writing down, getting all his thoughts and a thousand unsaid words on page. He couldn't tell how you watched him with a smile and a shimmering glimmer in your eyes, but fans could, and they'd deem it the look of love.

After a moment longer of writing, you finished, looking at him. 'Ready?'

Tom finished his sentence and nodded. 'Ready.'

'Ok you go first,' you say.

'No, you go first,' he insists, the two bickering over each other. 'Ladies first.'

'Age before beauty,' you say.

Tom rolled his eyes playfully but held up his notebook. 'This is- this is nerve racking, woah,' he says, laughing.

'No, I know. I'll turn around if that helps,' you go to turn.

Tom grabs your arm. 'No, don't-' he cleared his throat, let you go and started to read. 'You are incredibly talented, that's the first one. Your acting, your voice, it's unbelievable and every time I watch you at your work, i'm in awe. As well as that, you are so dedicated to your craft, whether it's flying back and forth for your movies or not giving up until you've nailed a scene, you just- you give 110% every time and it's inspiring to watch. Not only do you make me want to be a better actor, but a better man-'

He read from his notebook, flicking through the pages as you watched, mouth covered and tears welling up in your eyes.

'You're insanely intelligent, you have such a unique style that is so you. You give confidence to others and always bring the best out in them. You're witty, you're hilarious, absolutely hilarious, I don't laugh with anyone the way I laugh with you. And you are just the most beautiful girl in the world.' Only when he had finished did he look up and see you wiping your eyes.

'Christ,' you mutter, turning away as the crew laughed.

Tom wrapped you in a bear hug, laughing and rocking you back and forth. 'You're not suppose to cry.'

'How can I not?!' you mumble into his chest. 'Ok.' you took a deep breath, calming yourself before standing back from him and looking down at your own notes. 'Well mine just seem so rubbish now,' you joke toward the camera.

'Tom. You're a talented actor. One of the most talented i've ever met, or ever seen. Watching you on the hunger games, I mean, I was speechless half the time. You're the kindest and sweetest man I know. It's no secret i've always said, men, they suck but you, you changed that. You, single-handily restored my faith in men,' you say, creating a laugh through the studio and him. 'Er, i've just listed compliments, funny, caring, talented, gorgeous, beautiful, so-so hot- I mean, the list goes on but it's not gonna be anything like you gave me.'

'It's perfect, thank you.'

You gesture to him, looking in the camera. 'He's a gentleman.'

Your next task was harder, looking into each other eyes for one minute.

'Is this gonna be like, a staring contest,' you wonder out loud as the two of you already keep your eyes on each other.

'I hope not, my eyes sting already,' says Tom. For a moment, the two of you are just there staring at each other. Your hands behind your back, his at his side as small smiles play at your lips.

'Your eyes are so blue, christ, i've never just stared at them like this before,' you compliment. 'Add that to my list.'

'Are you crying? You look like you're going to cry again?' asked Tom, peering closer at you.

'That's just me, i'm always in a state of verge of tears.'

He laughs, but keeps his eyes open and on you. After a minute, you two finally looked away, rubbing at your eyes. 'I think we were having a staring contest then,' he said.

'Yea, yea, yea, my eyes hurt.'

There was a couple extra challenges, trying to say the same word at the same time (you guys failed every time except last where you both said 'hunger games') and to mirror each others move. The last one, is a trust fall.

'Send it!' Tom pretended to fall back immediately as you lunged to catch. He didn't fall but laughed at your readiness. 'Send it!'

'Stop!' you yell.

'Ok, for real this time, you ready?' he asked, holding his arms over his chest and glancing back at you.

'I'm so scared!'

Tom looked at the camera. 'Why are you scared? i'm the one falling!'

'Ok, on the count of three,' you say, holding your arms out.

'Are you counting up or down?'

'Down. Ok, three... two...one!'

Tom fell back and you held him up, pushing his back. The two of you stumbled a bit causing Tom's eyes to widen, but you had him.

'You are heavier than you look,' you say. 'All that pure muscle.'

Tom struggled back up and then it was your turn. 'On the count of three?' he asked, arms out.

'No!' you whine. 'I hate this!'

'Trust me. Don't you trust me?'

You have your hands tucked to your side. You look into the camera. 'This is gonna send me right back to therapy.'

Tom laughs behind you but reaches over to hold onto your shoulders. 'C'mon, you can do this, i'll slowly ease you back.'

You squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips, stifling a hum. 'That's cheating.'

Tom tuts, 'No it's not: now-' gently he held onto your shoulders and-bending at the knees- he gently eased you down, until he was crouching and until you were rocking on your heels. You took a deep breath as he held you back up. Your arms were still over your chest as your body wracked with a laugh.

'That was so dumb.'

Tom still had you in his hold, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

A year later and finally, the fans dreams came true. When the video was released, fans went crazy, thinking it was fake or a mashup of clips put together. Instead, it was true. A very real video of the two of you doing a 'couples quiz'.

'Hello!' Tom waved at the camera, before gesturing between the two of you. 'We are here today to do the-'

'Couples interview!' you finish. 'Years in the making it would seem,' you added, slapping your cards over your knee.

Tom looked at his cards. 'What is my first name?'

'Tom Keir Blyth,' you answer easily, 'not Thomas. Against popular contradiction.'

He laughed, knowing you'd call him Thomas to annoy him if you ever bickered. 'Not Thomas.'

'Call him Thomas and he'll break up with you.'

'That hasn't happened!' he told the camera, whacking you playfully with the cards a you sat across from him. 'Ok, moving on, where did I grow up?'

'Birmingham,' you say, in your best Birmingham accent.

'What was my fist film role?' he asked, smirking at the question.

You sigh, throwing your head back. 'Ok so... I don't know if it was your very first one, or maybe it was like, the second or something but you were in Robin Hood, and you played feral child number three.'

'That's exactly what I have on my card,' he said, showing it off to you.

'I'm the best girlfriend,' you sing.

Tom laughed, marvelling at you for a moment before moving onto the next question. 'Oh ok, where was our first kiss?'

You shrug, thinking it obvious. 'On set.'

Tom looked back down to his cards. 'Oh yea, I should've specified- our first kiss like as a couple, or just not on set.'

You laugh. 'Ok, cool, I was gonna say, that's an easy one. So of set, I guess, it was my hotel room. In New York, yea.'

'See, I had down-'

'You had something else down?' you gasp, leaning over in your chair.

'Yea. I had it down as the picnic, when you came to see me on set of Billy,' he explained. He remembered the day fondly. You and him, riding horses into the sandy terrain, taking a picnic down and one of his breaks and rolling around the blanket, laughing and digging fingertips into each other. Lips clashing in the heat of sun.

'But we- ok fine, that was our first kiss.'

'We did, kiss in the hotel room, you're right,' he insisted.

'No, but if you're counting first kiss as a couple then you're right, the picnic.'

'No you should still get the point because that kiss does count.'

Your exchange could've gone on forever if someone behind the camera hadn't spoken up, saying how adorable you two were, causing blushes from both of you before he moved on.

'What is my favourite thing to bring with me when I travel?' he asks.

'Me,' you say, without faltering.

'Correct!' he chucked the card behind him.

'Was it actually?'

Tom nodded. 'Yea. Well number one was you and then the second was my motorbike key.'

You roll your eyes. 'Of course it was. Thank you for putting me above the key at least.'

'Always, darling, always. What is my favourite jacket to wear?' he asked.

You thought about it, carefully and for a while. 'You don't have many but I'm trying to think which you wear the most.'

'I think you'll know it, you should get it.'

You raise your head to the ceiling, taking it more seriously than probably needed. He concentrated on you, wondering how hard you were thinking. 'The thing is- i'm thinking practicality. So like, that would be your motorbike jacket. But the one that I see you in most, and that I wear the most, is like your long, black jacket?'

'I had my motorbike jacket down, so half a point.'

'It crossed my mind!' you defended.

'It did, yes. So 50% of a point.'

You laugh. 'Not 75%.

'Who was my first celebrity crush?' he asked.

'Me,' you answer sarcastically.

Tom rose his card, covering his grin. 'Do you want to try again?'

'No,' you say. You knew what it was, you were taking the joke from him.

'Please?' he asked quietly.

You laugh at how wide his eyes were. 'Your first celebrity crush was Jennifer Anniston, ok.'

'Correct. But if I knew you back then, it would've been you.'

'Thanks, babe.'

'Ok, so I feel like you got pretty much every one of them,' said Tom, tucking his cards away.

'I feel like I did too, how ready do you feel Tom?' you asked.

Teasingly, he leant over, showing his forehead. 'See that? not a sweat. I've got this. Gimme some.'

'What are my dogs names?' you ask.

'Your oldest one is Padfoot, your youngest, the puppy dog is Moony.'

'Correct. Easy one. Ok, next, what is my favourite city?'

Tom's face dropped. 'That got harder so much quicker.'

'What? I thought this was easy.'

'Yea but it's between two. London or New York.'

'Well you've got them. I'd say right now it's New York though. Just because you're there,' you say jokingly.

'We're such a good couple.'

'The best. Lightning round. Favourite food?'

'Pizza.'

'Yes, favourite taylor swift album?'

'Folklore.'

'Easy. What is my favourite bag?'

Tom paused. 'It's a tote, your tote. Is it your waterstones one?'

Sadly, you shake your head. 'To be fair it's a new one i've got, it's my 'I heart new york one.'

Tom groaned. 'Of course it is, how did I not get that? I was literally with you when you brough it.'

'I have it with me today.'

'You do! oh my god, quickly move on before I get annoyed at myself.'

'Oh ok,' you grin down at the question and then pull a face, wondering yourself.

Tom watches, laughs and puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it affectionately. 'Are you alright? what's going on?'

'No, sorry, i'm just thinking about how to word this,' you pause and then, almost as if you weren't aware you were doing it, you hold onto his hand and ask the question. 'What is my favourite thing that you wear?'

Tom's expression matches your puzzled one. 'That I wear?'

'Yes. And I want you to take your time, think about it because you know it. And if you don't get this, we might be over,' you tell him.

Tom's jaw drops and he leans back in his chair, thinking. 'Don't say that!'

'Ok, it was a joke, sorry. But you do know this.'

Tom looks down at himself, but it was a new shirt and there was nothing special about these pants. The shoes were nice but you'd never cared for shoes. He checked his rings. You liked rings and you especially liked his rings but that couldn't have been it. 'Oh!' he almost kicked himself for not getting it sooner. 'Is it my- is it the necklace? he asks, pulling it from under his shirt.

'Yes!' you cheer, throwing the card over your shoulder and reaching over to high five him.

'I've never been so stressed in my life,' he laughed.

'So the necklace-' you start to explain to the camera as tom holds it out proudly, showing every crew and every camera as you laugh and smile at him. Never had you felt so in love. 'The necklace he wears all the time is the initial from the first letter of my name, just like-'

'Just like the Taylor Swift song,' finishes Tom, knowing how much you love it. Even now, you're smiling with teary eyes.

You had not brough it for him, but on your first anniversary Tom surprised you with it. You cried, wept. It was the first time you felt truly seen.

'I think you should sing it,' prompted Tom.

'I'm not singing it!'

'Go on! I love your voice!'

'No!'

'For me?' he asked.

You roll your eyes but don't really sing the song, you more say it: 'I want to wear his initials on a chain around my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me, but obviously, it's you wearing mine so...'

'Thank you for watching our couples quiz!' Tom waves to the camera.

'All in all I think we're couple goals, yea?' you check.

'Oh, absolutely!'

And the show was all done, with you two waving. But the camera's didn't turn off quick enough to catch how Tom held your hand and kissed the inside of your palm.

Yea, absolutely in love.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 4

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Smut - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Word count: 2070

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Smut, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), Also reader doesn’t go to the bathroom after (always go to the bathroom after sex guys), let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Since you had shared your past with Eddie, things had been really good. It had truly been this big ugly thing just looming over you and now that it was gone, this whole soulmate thing was finally starting to feel like everyone had explained.

Since that night, Eddie and you were inseparable, you spent nearly every waking second together. You had initially worried that his friends would grow sick of you pretty quickly, but thankfully that hadn’t been the case. They had actually seemed quite fond of you.

Eddie had explained that they all liked you because you were just so lovable, but his friends had clued you into the truth behind their fondness. It could all be chalked up to the fact that you brought baked goods for everyone at lunch every Friday, you stood up for them similarly to Eddie, you were willing to chauffeur the younger kids around, and Eddie hadn’t been so hard on them in Hellfire since you’d been around.

Speaking of Hellfire, you were super excited because tonight was the first night you’d be sitting in on a campaign. You had wanted to sit in before, but Eddie had asked that you hold off for a while. He had told you that there was a new campaign that he had been working on and he wanted it to be the first one you witnessed!

This campaign would span over a few weeks of Hellfire Club meetings, but the gist of it was that the guys’ characters were trying to take down an evil ruler, there were quests along the way.

 You went about your day as usual, going from class to class. Eddie utilizes his free period on Fridays to set up the theater storage room, but then he made sure to meet you at your locker to escort you.

As you approach your locker you see Eddie standing there waiting.

Ugh you’re so freaking hot!

I can’t wait for you to finally see me be the Dungeon Master!

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as you finally came face to face with him. He pressed a sweet and sloppy kiss to your lips and slid out of the way so you could put your things in your locker. After doing so, Eddie slipped his hand into your own and led you down the halls to the room.

“Are you ready for this baby?” He questioned.

“Yes! I am so excited to see you in your element!” You gushed.

“Okay! Just uh, I can get a little intense, so…just be prepared.”

“What? You, Eddie Munson, intense? You could never!” You feigned surprise.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough! Let’s do this!” He laughed, nudging you into the room.

Eddie led you over to a chair sat right beside his throne at the head of the table. He gestured for you to sit down beside him and began organizing his notes as the boys began filtering in. The noise level rose significantly as each boy arrived. To anyone else, this would’ve been headache inducing, but you’d grown so accustomed to it that it was like white noise at this point.

 You watched with careful eyes as Eddie’s nimble fingers flipped through pages and pages of notes for this campaign. Your breath caught in your throat as he passed a sketch of a beautiful heroine, she was ethereal, and the sketch drew you in.

She’s beautiful!

She’s you.

Your eyes flashed upwards to meet Eddie’s gaze. He held a finger to his lips in a shush signal and sent a wink your way. Next thing you knew he was commanding the attention of the rest of the group and informed them it was time to begin.

You were in complete and utter awe. Eddie was incredible, the way he commanded a room and just became the dungeon master. You couldn’t quite believe what you were witnessing in this moment. And even more so, you couldn’t believe what you were feeling. Especially in the apex of your thighs.

Eddie and you hadn’t slept together yet, you had talked about it, how neither of you were virgins, but you both had wanted to wait until the timing was right. And well, if this is how your body was going to react to him, then you were hoping that night would come sooner rather than later.

“And…That’s a MISS! So sorry my friend. You guys should discuss how you’d like to proceed.” Eddie Exclaimed.

Why is this turning me on? What the hell is wrong with me?

Eddie’s gaze shot over to you, he immediately noticed how flushed your cheeks and chest were, how your eyes were glazed over and your breathing was slightly labored. He couldn’t believe it; you were turned on by him being the dungeon master. In this moment he knew exactly why you were his soulmate.

You like that baby?

Your eyes met his, mortification flashing across your face. Eddie was quick to place his hand on your thigh to put your racing thoughts to rest. He gave you a subtle nod and leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

“It’s okay baby, as soon as we’re done here, I’ll take you home and take care of you.”  He nipped your earlobe.

Eddie hollered at the group, prompting them to make a choice so they could continue the campaign. He told them they were nearing a good stopping point for the evening. And everything after that was drowned out by the growing arousal within you.

It felt like hours before the campaign ended. Before the guys were finally packing up their shit and Eddie was practically dragging you to his van.

He couldn’t get you guys home fast enough. Everything was moving so fast and while you were excited for this to finally be happening, you wanted to savor it.

We should slow down. Fuck. I don’t want to rush this.

“I was thinking the same thing.” You whispered.

Eddie pulled back and smiled at you. He grabbed your hand in his and slowly led you to his bedroom. The two of you sat on his bed and began making out, it was full of passion and love.

Eddie’s kisses began trailing down your neck as his hands began roaming your figure. Your hands moved up to tug at the curls hugging the nape of his neck. You couldn’t help the growing wetness between your thighs, Eddie was truly skilled with his mouth, and he hadn’t even made it to where you were most desperate for him. The effect he had on you; you were sure it was due to the fact he was your soulmate. It had never felt this wonderful before, it had never felt this right.

Ugh. I need you so badly.

“All you had to do was ask sweetheart.” Eddie whispered against the planes of your skin.

He gently laid you back on his bed and you moved to take your shirt off. He pulled back to follow suit and before you knew it, your clothes were in a heap on the floor, leaving you in your panties with Eddie’s fingers toying with your slit. Eddie was down to his boxers, and you were palming his bulge through them.

Jesus, I feel like I’m 13 again…about to bust because of a little friction.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. Eddie stopped his movements and brought his gaze up to your own.

“You heard that then.” He asked.

“It’s okay Eds, I uh, I can’t believe how good this is either.” You smiled.

Eddie nodded at you and captured your lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and the world began to fade away. You had heard rumors about sex with your soulmate, but that’s all they had ever been until now. In this moment, everything you had ever heard about sex with your soulmate seemed to be an understatement.

Eddie gripped his shaft and directed it into you, pushing in with own swift thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and a moan ripped through your body. Eddie’s cock had been larger than any other you had taken before, in that initial thrust alone he had slammed into your g-spot, and every thrust after hit it again and again.

Eddie continued on like this, his stamina seemed never ending, the light that shone in from under the sheet covering his window had long since faded. The sounds outside had switched from children playing to crickets chirping.

Eddie pressed his forehead against your own your breaths intermingled as another orgasm ripped its way through your body. Eddie caught your cry with a kiss, his own moan dying as your lips met. Eddie’s thrusts began to slow along with your heartrates. Eddie turned the two of you, so you were on your sides facing one another, his cock slipping out as it softens within you.

You nuzzled your nose into Eddie’s neck, the smell of his skin lulling you into a deep sleep. Eddie held you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

I love you Eds.

I love you baby.

The morning sun is what woke Eddie, he looked over to where you were laid out sleeping. You were face down, your hair was cascading over the pillow, the sheets bunched around your hips. Eddie ran his fingers gently over your spine, he had been in awe of you. You were stunning even after multiple orgasms and a night of sleep; you were laid here next to him looking absolutely breath taking. You began to stir, and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Good morning Eds.” You grumbled.

“Good morning baby.” He responded, “Did you want to shower really quick then go grab breakfast at Benny’s?” Eddie asked you.

“Mmm, that sounds amazing!” You smiled at him as you stretched your arms.

Eddie got up, leading you to the bathroom as he got the water started, he pulled two towels out from under the sink and told you to sit tight while he went to get a glass of water for the two of you to share.

Eddie looked over into the living room to see Wayne fast asleep on the pull-out couch. Eddie smiled to himself, this is his family right here, you and Wayne.

Once you and Eddie had finished showering, he led you back to his room to get dressed. He wore his usual black pants with a silver chain, a Metallica shirt, and his jacket. You looked over at him as you slid on your jeans and clasped your bra.

Where is my shirt?

“Is that it over there?” He pointed to a blue shirt crumpled over on his side of the bed.

“Thanks!” You reached to grab it. “Uh Eddie…”

“What’s…?” Eddie looked over at you and then the soiled shirt that he’d clearly used to clean the two of you up last night.

Shit!

“Sorry baby, let me grab you a shirt to wear!” He offered.

Ooh! Please give me that iron maiden one you wear all the time, it always smells like you.

Eddie smiled and reached into his closet to pass you the shirt you’d subconsciously asked him for. He slipped out of his room and let you finish getting ready for breakfast. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Wayne sitting at the table sipping coffee while reading the paper.  

“Morning Wayne!” Eddie greeted.

“Morning son. Is your girl here?” Wayne asked.

“Oh uh, yeah. She stayed over, is that okay?” He asked.

“Of course it is son. Just make sure her parents are okay with it before it happens and be safe.” He warned. “She’s a good kid Ed. I can see how happy you two make one another.”

“Yeah, I really love her Wayne. I uh. I’m gonna marry her.” Eddie confessed.

I am gonna make her my wife. As soon as I can.

My answer is yes Eds. Whenever you plan to ask, know that I’ll say yes.

Eddie’s face turned a bright shade of red as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back. You glanced over his shoulders to see Wayne sitting there.

“Good morning Wayne!” You smiled “You ready to go Eds?” You asked innocently, your stomach growling. “Uh, yeah babe. Let’s get you fed!” He laughed.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive @silky-luxe

[elkian]

Also one reason Bauhauzzo really speaks to me is how he takes in the beauty of the world. Of being alive. Not just natural beauty like sunsets and sunrises, but the beauty of human effort and interaction.

I get choked up all the time thinking of ancient manuscripts with cat pawprints on them, graves someone 400 years ago made for their faithful dog, stick figures with far too many fingers made by bored kids centuries past.

Humans have always been and will always be humans, and there are dark sides to that, but it's not all doom and heartache. Bauhauzzo talks about authoritarian-worshipping goosesteppers, but he also talks about the joys of innovation. He fondly remembers Cobigail's acts of fun and kindness alongside her pranks. He waxes poetic about how someone went to all the effort of breeding a blue rose, a thing that does not exist in nature. He remembers the light of the flames of war on the water in the same paragraph as he remembers the scent of a loved one's home-cooked meal.

I've said it before but what makes him such an excellent God of Memory and History is that he understands the past, he remembers it, but he doesn't live in it.

I haven't gotten all his anecdotes yet, but I did get the one about the Spire, and I think it's really characteristic of him. He remembers its lifetime fondly - he asks you to kiss the doorway. But he doesn't say, "everything is ruined forever until it is restored to its former glory". I don't think he'd be opposed to its restoration, necessarily (depending on the why of it, given how BuzzHuzz goes), but he acknowledges the movement of time and accepts the present, while still maintaining a fondness for the past. The Spire conversation opens with him talking about loving one's home, and I think the reference to Marie Kondo's system of Sparking Joy is deliberate. Keep what brings you joy, but you don't have to hold on to things just because they were once important to you.

Bauhauzzo loves and acknowledges and embodies the past, but never truly lets it hold him back. He understands that the present, and the future, are as important to History as the past. He doesn't want the world to stop, even if he feels a bit of nostalgia from time to time. He knows that's a natural feeling, and he might be a bit culpable for the BH situation, but it was never his intention. He was deliberately taken advantage of by the very people who claimed to be there to help him, and the very first thing he asks of you is to help him right this wrong.

Bauhauzzo is great.

[blackshadowswriter]

Kneel At The Altar┃Matt Murdock

Summary: The one in which the Devil fucks you at the altar.

Warnings: blasphemy? (because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to fuck in church), reader (me) having very unholy thoughts about Matt in church and Matt acting on those unholy thoughts, little bit of exhibitionism, smut: dom!Matt, kinda rough p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, edging, praying while Matt eats you out AND fingers you (???), choking kink, praise kink, spanking, some degradation, marking, multiple orgasms, some overstimulation, dirty talk (not particularly in that order)

God, if you're reading this, stop here, it isn't for you bby 😘

Words: 7,691

AN: Would you believe me if I said that this fic idea formed in my head WHILE I was in church? I'm not even kidding, I got dragged to church, and I literally thought up this fic while sitting in church, half-listening to a sermon. This fic has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I guess the wait was worth it because I bring you 7k words of pure sin. My content warnings have never been this long before, and that's probably not a good sign (or it's a very, very good sign)

Tagging my wonderful @farfromstrange because you also inspired me to finish this, and our horny enthusiasm for this fic kept me going, ily sm girl 🖤

As you knelt in front of the altar on your hands on knees with tears in your eyes and the Devil himself between your legs, you wondered how you had gotten yourself into this predicament. 

It had started out so innocent: dear Matthew asking you to go to mass with him, swaying you with his plea of "I don't want to go alone, sweetheart, please" and that drowned puppy look in his eyes. For someone who couldn't see out of them, Matt could express a great deal of emotion in his eyes. 

You agreed to accompany him to Sunday morning mass and returned the victorious grin that had spread across his face with a fond one of your own. You weren't usually one for religious settings like this, but it was worth it to see Matt in that black suit with the white dress shirt—one of your favorite outfits on Matt. 

Half of the sermon fell on your deaf ears as most of your attention was on Matt, studying his gorgeous side profile and that stubbled jawline that you loved kissing when he fucked you. God, it felt even better between your legs. The thought of that sent heat flaring across your body as you squeezed your thighs together. 

Besides you, Matt cleared his throat quietly, nudging you in your side, undoubtedly guessing where your thoughts had gone. A faint blush rose to your cheeks when you saw that Matt's jaw was clenched tightly, a sign you had come to know meant that he was trying to control himself. The sight of that only spurred on further thoughts of Matt losing control and fucking you right there. 

Matt let out a quiet but ragged breath, and you knew he could smell the arousal between your thighs. His grip on his cane was so tense that his knuckles had turned white, his scars visible against his trembling fist. Your mouth went dry as you remembered those knuckles buried inside of you as you moaned for him just a few nights ago. Thighs clenching even tighter together, you bit back a grin at Matt's low hiss of your name. 

Subtly, Matt adjusted his pants next to you, and the discomfort on his face made you stifle a laugh. The quiet growl Matt rumbled in warning did nothing to dissuade you. You could feel the heat of Matt's body pressed against yours and bit your lip, recalling how it felt against your bare skin. 

Your fingers started to creep towards Matt's thigh, lightly skimming up and down the side of those muscular thighs that always caged you in when he knelt on top of you in bed. Faster than you could blink, Matt's hand flew towards you and caught your wrist in his tight grip. 

"Not here, for God's sake," he hissed in your ear. 

"Funny you'd phrase it like that," you murmured in amusement. 

Matt turned to glare at you behind his opaque red glasses, but the way he had to fold his hands across his lap to maintain some semblance of his Good Catholic Boy image in church (which you had come to realize was a total façade) told you he wanted it as much as you did. 

You should probably listen to him and stop before anything happened. What was the punishment for getting handsy in God's house again? You had a feeling you didn't want to know. 

But there was the slight thrill of excitement shooting through you at the risk of doing this in pubic. A sly grin slid across your lips as you tilted your head towards Matt's ear, letting your hair fall forward in a way that would seem to onlookers as though you were merely whispering something to him. Instead, you nipped at his neck right below his ear where you knew he was sensitive. Matt's entire form, every inch of thick muscle and power stiffened at the contact, and you heard him give the smallest, tinniest groan that no one other than you would be able to hear.  

Matt growled your name in warning, but there was no denying the lust burning in his dark eyes. His blank gaze had landed somewhere around your lips, and you wondered if he really was going to give into desire and kiss your right there. 

But then everyone started to rise around them to sing the closing songs, and the sudden movement snapped both of you out of whatever horny haze you had been in. You stood like everyone else, shoulders pressed together, forced to ignore the blatant lust coiling in both of you.

For now.

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"I'm going out," Matt whispered to you sometime late at night as you laid curled in bed with a book in hand while the shadow of the Devil stood behind you. 

At his words, you shut your book and rolled over to face him, eyes roving over the skin-tight black suit through which you could practically see every single ab. His black mask was held in one hand while the other came up to cradle your face gently. As much was you enjoyed Matt in his black lawyer suit, you decided that you enjoyed Matt even more in his black Devil suit when you could run your fingers across his broad chest and feel the almost burning heat of his skin underneath. 

You tilted your head up to study Matt's face. Whenever his mask was on, cloaking so much of his face in black, he felt like a phantom shadow that could disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. There was something sharp and fiery and dangerous about him.

You didn't mind of course. In actuality, you enjoyed it—enjoyed the danger of dancing with the Devil. 

"Okay," you said, sitting up to press a kiss to his soft lips. "Stay safe." 

"I will," he murmured, brushing his calloused fingers across your temple. "Stay in the apartment. Wait for me when I get back." 

You knew that voice—that low, possessive tone that dripped with promise for what was to come. A knowing smirk flitted across your lips as you hooked your legs around his waist to pull him nearer. "Yeah?" you challenged. "And what are you going to do when you get back?" 

Matt chuckled softly, and even though the mask was off, that sound right there was purely the Devil speaking. "Oh sweetheart," he purred. "That's only for me to know, isn't it?" 

That low, raspy voice he used rekindled that fiery want that had burned so dangerously in you hours earlier. By the time Sunday morning mass had been over, Foggy and Karen had called you both over for lunch in the office. The rest of the day had went by as normal with neither of you acknowledging what had transpired in the church outside of his promising smirks and your light, teasing touches ghosting across his body. 

Now, however, with the Devil ready to be unleashed, there was nothing stopping that eager, burning desire rearing its head in both of you.

Nothing except Matt's duty to the city. 

Fucking morals. You could just stay with me in bed, you thought about telling him. You might even be able to cajole him into staying if you could rile him up enough.

But no. You understood Matt's commitment to Hell's Kitchen even if you weren't too fond of the fact he got beat up every night. Still, it would be cruel to ask him to stop what he did just for you, just so he could hear the cries of those who needed him going unanswered in the merciless shadow of the night.

You weren't above asking for a little taste of his promise, however. "Tell me," you begged softly. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

That sharp grin was still on his face. "When I come back," Matt whispered in your ear, "I am going to fuck you into this mattress so hard that you won't be able to keep quiet." His fingers danced down the nape of your neck lightly, and you shivered. "And you're going to be screaming my name so loud, so everyone can hear who you belong to." 

"Oh my God," you whimpered, eyes rolling back at the promise. That heat coiling in your stomach lashed out across your body, spreading through you like a wildfire. It pooled between your thighs, making you clench them tightly together with a soft moan. "Matthew." 

The devilish smile that spread across his lips was absolutely sinful, a promise of the night to come. "But," he rumbled in your ear, his hand reaching down to grasp your wrist as he had in church. "You are not to touch yourself until I come back. Do you understand?" 

You whimpered again. 

"I said," Matt growled, "do you understand me?" 

"Yes," you whined. "But God, Matt, please...I can't wait that long, Matt, please—" 

"You will," he said sharply, "or you'll be punished." He released his harsh hold on your wrist and brought his hand up to trail lightly across your cheek, his tenderness a stark contrast to his rough dominance a few seconds ago. "You can do that for me, can't you, sweetheart? Can't you be a good girl for me? Can't you be a good girl and wait for me to get back to fuck you?" 

Fuck, not the praise. 

Your head fell backwards with a small shuddering moan, eyes falling shut as your thighs squeezed tightly together, a desperate motion to ease the ache in your core. "Matt," you whimpered. "Please." 

His low laugh breezed across your cheek, and Matt's hand disappeared from your cheek. "Be good," came his stern order, and then the radiant heat from Matt's body vanished, leaving you panting and desperate.

By the time your eyes had snapped open, the Devil was gone, melting back into the shadows into the night. 

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You tried. 

Oh God, you truly tried. 

You laid there in bed, body burning with desperate need as you tried not to think about what Matt was planning to do to you lest your predicament worsen. 

You tried to read. You rolled onto your stomach and flipped your book back open, trying to pick up where you left off. It did no good—the words wouldn't permeate the fog of sinful thoughts swarming in your head that screamed Matt, Matt, Matt. 

You thought about disobeying Matt and touching yourself, just to relieve some of that pressure building between your legs but quickly dismissed the idea. Matt would know if you did—he would smell the scent of your arousal on your fingers and instantly know what you had done. Even though the prospect of his punishment was excitement, tonight you didn't think you could stand his merciless teasing. You needed him desperately. 

Eventually, after nearly an hour of lying there, you got out of bed and slipped your shoes on. You would go for a walk around the neighborhood, you decided. The fresh air would help clear your head and calm yourself down. 

At least that's what you told yourself you would say if a certain Devil caught your scent and chased you down. 

And if you were really just hoping that said Devil really would catch your scent...well, that was no one's business, was that? 

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In an interesting twist of irony, you made it as far as the gates of Clinton Church before he caught up with you. 

You thought you had heard him behind you several times as you walked, and you knew he must have been letting you hear his small footsteps and scuffles on purpose. If he wanted to, Matt could move like a giant Devilish cat, leaping across rooftops thought the dark in absolute silence. 

But then you paused in front of the church, staring at the stained glass windows through which you could see the dark interior as you thought about that morning. You didn't even noticed the church doors slowly creeping open in front of your, too caught up in your thoughts. 

Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your waist and yanked you through the doors into the dark church. The startled gasp that flew from your lips at the quick movement was quickly stifled by a large hand over your mouth, but you weren't afraid. You could feel the familiar, broad line of muscle pressed against your back, his body heat that always burned so warm a comforting feeling after the cold New York air. 

"I told you to wait for me," a low voice hissed in your ear. 

You bit back a grin, the tingle of excitement in your stomach growing stronger. "I was just going out for a walk," you said innocently. 

He growled behind you and dragged you towards the altar through the rows of empty pews. As your feet stumbled along, your eyes darted around the dark interior, sweeping for any sign of company. You shouldn't have been worried though—Matt had far more effectively scoped out the inside already to make sure no one else was there. 

"Kneel," Matt ordered when they reached the altar. 

You obeyed, dropping to your knees in front of the wooden table. The cloth that usually draped across it was absent tonight—perhaps being cleaned or for some other reason. It didn't matter. All that mattered right now was the man pressed against your back. 

"You've been a bad girl tonight," Matt mused, his chest vibrating against your back when he spoke. 

"Well, you were taking so long, so I thought I'd come find you," you replied sweetly, unable to keep the grin off your face this time. 

Matt hadn't told you that you could move, so you kept still in the position he had ordered you in—kneeling in front of the altar facing forward away from the warm frame of muscle and power at your back. Your eyes turned, almost automatically, up towards the massive statue of Jesus hanging from the cross as you silently wondered if Matt really was planning on taking your right in front of that statue. You decided you wouldn't mind if he did. 

Behind you, you could hear Matt pacing quietly, purposefully keeping out of your line of sight. He made a tsking noise. "So impatient," he tutted. "Perhaps I need to teach you the virtue of patience, don't you think, sweetheart?" 

You licked your lips slowly. "What does this lesson on patience include, sir?" you asked, emphasizing the last word with a smirk. 

His sharp inhale carried to your ears, and your grin widened. Your goal tonight was to rile Matt up enough that he would either forget about your disobedience or not care. So far, the plan was going great.

Then, his hand fisted in your hair and yanked your head back. Matt's burning form reappeared, pressed flushed against your back. His hot breath was in your ear suddenly, growling, "I want you to take these off—" his finger curled in the waistband of your pants and snapped them against your waist "—and get on your hands and knees."

When you didn't move at first, he landed a sharp hit to your clothed ass. You yelped, and his hand darted up to cover your mouth.

"Move, sweetheart," he ordered lowly. "And keep quiet. We don't want anyone hearing us here, do we?"

"No," you panted even though you weren't sure if you were telling the truth. His hand released your hair, and you scrambled to obey him, peeling off your jeans and tossing them aside before kneeling how he told you to. The position felt oddly exposed—you could feel cold air breezing across your naked legs and shivered.

"That's better," Matt murmured behind you. His bare hand—when had he taken off the gloves?—brushed against the back of your thigh, and you whimpered, instinctively pressing back against him. This time, when his hand came down your ass, you didn't have the denim of your jeans to protect you. The sound of his hand against the thin material of your panties echoed with a sharp crack through the church. You had to bring a hand up to fist in your mouth to keep quiet from the sting.

"So." He trailed a finger across the back of your thighs lazily, occasionally dipping them down to slide along the soaked fabric of your panties, taking pleasure in each of your hitched breathes. "You want to explain what that was about earlier?"

"I was just going for a walk," you whimpered, desperately arching back into him, but his fingers disappeared the moment you did. The next second, another sharp smack landed on your ass, jolting you forward with a small gasp.

"That's not what I was asking, and you know it," Matt said calmly. "I was talking about this morning."

A feeling of something—you didn't know what that was—ran down your spine, and you shivered, heart rate picking up at the memory of your little dalliance during mass.

"I don't know," you breathed.

Your heart skipped. Lie.

Another harsh strike landed on your ass. "You do."

"Fuck, Matt," you nearly cried, "please!"

"What are you asking for, hm?" Matt murmured, running a large palm over your stinging ass. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Touch me, fuck me, anything," you begged. "Please, Matt, I've waited so long."

"Then you can wait a little more, can't you?"

"No," you panted, trying not to move, your body on fire. "Matt, please!"

He gave a thoughtful hum, fingers teasing you lightly through the thin fabric of your panties. Your hips bucked back instantly, a sharp whine leaving your throat at the touch. You tried to grind against his hand, but he yanked it away with a low, almost mocking chuckle.

"You've been naughty today, sweetheart," Matt purred. "Having such unholy thoughts in church—don't think I didn't know what you were thinking about. Tell me what were you imagining, hmm?"

Heat rose to your face, melting right along with the fire raging across the rest of your body. "I don't know," you stammered.

"Lie," Matt said, his voice darkly amused. His hand slid underneath your jaw and tilted your head back, so he could press his lips to the shell of your ear. "Were you thinking about me fucking you, sweetheart?"

A ragged moan fell from your mouth, a pulse of heat running across your spine. You let your head fall back against Matt's shoulder, arching back against him. The hand gripping your jaw stroked your cheek gently, a glimpse of softness underneath his dominating exterior.

"Please," you begged quietly. "I need it, Matt. I'll do anything, please..."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

He let out a quiet, considering noise, his fingers absently stroking your jaw with a gentleness that you had come to know precede the roughness. You whimpered quietly, begging him in your head to hurry up and do whatever the fuck he wanted to do so he could just fuck you already. Your body was aching with need, that fire in your raging to be satisfied.

"How well do you remember the Lord's Prayer?" Matt asked you abruptly.

You blinked in surprise. "T-the Lord's Prayer?"

"Yes."

"Um...kind of?" you said uncertainly. "Haven't done it since middle school." You felt the breath from his quiet laughter skate across your earlobe and twitched in anticipation of whatever he had planned.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said slowly, his tone dipping back down into the low timber of his Devil voice, the one that always sent shivers down your spine. "You're going to recite it for me as penance for your sins."

"I didn't—"

"Thinking about the Devil fucking you in church is a sin, sweetheart," Matt cooed. "You're going to need to repent if you want to get what you want."

"Y-you want me to pray."

"Yes."

"Right here. Kneeling in my panties. With you at my back, half grinding on my ass."

A sharp swat landed on your ass. "Hmm, it seems more like you were the one grinding on me," he chuckled lowly, dragging his finger along the seam of your underwear. "As for the panties, God might mind, but I don't think the Devil does. In fact, he prefers you praying like this. Go on, sweetheart. Say your prayer, and maybe I'll think about giving you what you want."

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to clear your head away from thoughts of Matt, fuck me already and remember the words of the prayer. This actually wasn't so bad, you decided. It was a bit of a weird request to pray, kneeling at the altar in soaked panties, but it was fine. All you had to do was recite the prayer, and then hopefully, Matt would be satisfied and finally give in to you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

"Okay," you started to say, the vaguely remembered words coming to the tip of your tongue. "Um...Our Father...who art in heaven...hallowed be...thy name?"

"Keep going," Matt purred in your ear, his hands sliding down from your face to lightly grip your throat for a brief moment, enjoying your shaky groan at the contact. He pushed you back down onto your hands and knees, hand running down to your waist and dragging sensually across your hips.

Whimpering at the touch, you bit your lip and forced the next words out. "Y-your kingdom come....and, um....your will be done—Matt, what are you—?"

For he had just hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and started to slide them down your hips. Your breath caught in your throat at the way the fabric slid against your most sensitive areas. "Don't worry about me," he murmured. "Just lift your legs up for me—there you go. Continue."

What the actual fuck? Did he honestly expect you to be even close to okay after that? He slid your panties completely free of your legs, leaving your soaked heat bare to him. You whimpered at the barely there brush of his fingers against your inner thigh, just a few inches away from where you ached for him most.

"Continue, sweetheart," Matt ordered.

You tried to take another deep breath and continue where you'd left off. "Okay, um...will be done...on—on Earth as it is in Heaven. Uh...give us this day our—fucking hell, Matthew—oh my God, fuck!"

You lurched forward, a strangled cry falling from your lips when you felt Matt's mouth suddenly close around your dripping cunt, tongue lashing mercilessly against your clit so fast and so sharp it nearly hurt. He kept up the torturous pace for a few seconds while you writhed and moaned, pleasure striking like lightning between your legs and arcing up to your back and across your legs. His mouth on you was both a remedy and fuel to the desperate need that had been kindling there all night. Your hands clawed at the carpet underneath you, fire burning across every nerve in your body as you shuddered and cried out for him.

Then, as suddenly as it came, his mouth vanished from your cunt in a heartbeat, and you were left just as empty and desperate as you were a few seconds ago.

"No!" you choked out, voice thick with fading pleasure and need as you tried to grind back against him uselessly. "Matt, please!"

He didn't answer your plea for a few moments, instead dragging his tongue across his lips and moaning softly as the taste of you. God, you were perfection to him, you always were. Matt wanted nothing more than to dive back between your legs and drink from you until you had nothing left to give him.

But half the enjoyment of the catch was the chase, and Matt was not done teasing you yet. He laughed darkly, landing another slap to your ass, gentler this time but no less firm. "I told you to pray, sweetheart," he reminded you. "I told you to pray and repent for your sins. And what do you do? Be a filthy little girl and start moaning for me? In God's house? What a dirty little girl you are."

Your mouth fell open at the sheer audacity of this man to accuse you of such a thing when he just fucking ate you out right in front of the altar. Still, there was no hiding the shudder that rolled through you at his words, and Matt gripped your hips firmer.

"You're going to finish your prayer," Matt ordered. "No matter what happens, and then we'll see if you deserve to get fucked."

"'No matter what happens?'" you repeated in a choked whisper. "Are you—you're not actually going to—"

Another hard hit landed on your ass, the sting only feeding the fire threatening to consume you. "Pray, sweetheart," Matt ordered. "Can't you follow a simple command?"

You swallowed thickly. "Y-yes, I can."

"Good. Then continue."

You whimpered softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore the burning, aching need for him between your legs. Where had you even left off on the prayer?

"Give us this day our daily bread," you stammered out. "And—um—forgive us our— oh God!"

Because fuck, his mouth was on you again, hungrily lapping at your cunt as you bucked against him desperately. His hot tongue dragged across your clit, and burning pleasure was scorching every inch of your skin. You threw back your head with a wanton moan when Matt circled the sensitive bud with a quick swipe of tongue that had you writhing in his firm grip.

"Matt!" you cried, molten heat rolling across every nerve in your body. Your hands curled against the carpet, desperately grasping for something to hold on to, to brace you against the raging fire licking at your insides.

Matt paused in his motions, pulling his mouth away for a second, but his finger came to replace his tongue, drawing languid circles on your clit that had you rolling your hips in desperation.

"I told you to pray," he told you again, quiet warning in his voice. "Don't make me remind you again."

A strangled noise fell from your lips. "Y-you keep eating me out, and you want me to pray?" you squeaked.

You didn't have to look back to know he had that feral grin on his lips, the one that always drove you insane. "Oh sweetheart, that was the plan from the beginning."

And his deliciously thick finger plunged into you with a sinfully slick noise that seemed to echo through the empty church like a reminder of the blasphemy taking place at the altar, and then you were writhing, whining, whimpering as Matt fucked you slowly with his middle finger. His purposefully slow, deliberate strokes had you moaning so loud, you thought anyone passing by the church might hear you. Each thrust of his finger inside of you stoked that deep, festering pleasure that burned in your very core, making you arch and cry out to a God too ashamed to answer you.

That was okay, you thought through a thick haze of pleasure. You didn't need God to answer you. You needed the Devil to fuck you.

Matt groaned, his eyes rolling back at the smell of your arousal. He dragged his tongue over his lips, bringing the delicious taste of you from the air into his mouth, heat rippling through him at that new sensation. Painfully hard and throbbing in his pants, Matt panted, desperately drawing another breath in just to drag more of your taste into him. You were exquisite. You were perfect, his good little girl, making such pretty noises for him. You were everything he needed and so much more.

His thumb dragged across your sensitive clit, sending jolts of fiery pleasure stabbing through you as that pressure started to build in your lower abdomen, fire coiling into a tight rope, ready to snap. And oh, there it was, sweet orgasm dancing within reach, so close but so far away. Half sobbing, you arched against him, desperately trying to get him to fuck you faster.

But then Matt's fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching, slick dripping down your thighs as a harsh sob left your chest. The burning edge of orgasm was already fading away. "Matt," you cried, "please! Please, Matt, please, you've been teasing me for so long—"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he snarled, his hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back, so his lips were right against your ear. "Don't act like you didn't want this, you dirty little girl."

A wanton moan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, before you could register the embarrassment. "I wanted you to fuck me," you groaned. "I need it, Matt, please."

Abruptly, he released his grip on your hair but not before delivering another harsh swat to your ass. "You want me to fuck you? Then do as I say," he commanded. "I gave you an order, sweetheart, and you still haven't followed it. You better finish that prayer before I decide to give you another punishment for not listening."

"I—I don't—"

Another hit to your ass. "Did you not hear me?" Matt growled, his voice all rough edges and heated ash drifting across your skin. "Or do you just enjoy being a brat?"

This, you thought vaguely, this should be embarrassing. The way he degraded you, the way he called you his dirty little girl, his brat—if it had been any other man, you would've beat the shit out of him. But oh, it was him, it was your Matt, it was your Devil whispering filthy words to you, and every single syllable sent another pulse of heat rolling through you like molten lava.

"This is your last warning," Matt said lowly. "Finish your prayer now, or I'll give you another punishment."

Your brain scrambled to comprehend what he was saying, or at least some part of your brain that hadn't shut down, that wasn't giving in to primal instinct to beg Matt to fuck you. Where the fuck had you even left off?

"...F-forgive us our trespasses as we forgive...our—no, uh, those who trespass against us. And, um, lead us not into temptatio—ah, Matt!"

God, this time it was two of his wonderfully thick fingers pushing into you abruptly, thick heat pulsing through you. Your hips bucked against him instinctively, seeking moremoremore. The words of the prayer died on your tongue, replaced by shameless whimpers and moans as Matt dragged them out slowly and then shoved them back in a harsh thrust, the tips of his fingers barely grazing that spot, deep inside of you. Desperate, keening cries tumbled from your mouth as you threw your head back, gasping and whining.

You—oh God—you needed more. Hot pleasure wormed its way through your body, consuming every other thought until you were left with nothing but primal, wanton need. Your arms trembled as you barely held yourself up, cunt throbbing around Matt's fingers achingly.

This time, when Matt pulled your hair back and snarled in your ear, his fingers didn't leave you. Instead, they continued their torturously slow pace even as he purred, "Finish the goddamn prayer, sweetheart, and don't make me ask again."

You knew better than to protest the unfairness of him making you recite a prayer while he fucked you on his fingers in front of the altar. You could barely summon a thought that wasn't fuck me, Matt, please, but you managed to choke out the next line.

"Deliver us from evil," you sobbed even as Matt brushed his thumb across your clit again, making you jolt at the sharp pleasure racing along the bud of sensitive nerves. "I—ah!—don't know the rest—" you stammered, desperate to reach the end.

"Lie," he chuckled in your ear. "Lie one more time, and that prayer is going to be the least of your problems, sweetheart."

Your head fell back against his hand, eyes falling shut as your needy whimpers echoed along the church walls. His fingers had picked up pace, and now Matt pressed them deep enough to just ever so slightly brush against your g-spot. Even that brief, barely there contact was enough to have you dripping and throbbing on his fingers.

"Finish it," Matt cooed in your ear. "Come on, honey, you're so close."

In both ways, you thought distantly in your muddled mind. "Please!" you cried.

"Finish the last bit, and you can come," he promised.

Well, that changed things. Spurred on by his vow, you blinked harshly, trying to put aside the scorching pleasure arcing through your body for a second.

"For the—the kingdom and—uh something about power and glory—is yours, uh, nowandforeveramen," you rushed out, squeezing your eyes shut, and begging, begging that it was good enough for Matt.

"Hmm," he hummed, considering. Should he make you redo that last bit? Technically it wasn't correct, and how he would love to hear you cry for him if he made you repeat it. But then you ground your hips back, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers with a strangled cry of "please, sir!" And oh, how he could deny that?

Matt didn't reply, but you heard him shifting behind you, the rhythm of his fingers pausing for a second. A half sobbed plea was forming on your lips, but it was chased away in a heartbeat when the glorious wet heat of Matt's mouth closed around your cunt again.

Sinfully loud moans and gasps tore from your throat, your head falling forward. Fiery pleasure almost too much to handle burned between your legs, coursing up through your entire body until your toes were curling and your hands gripping the carpet. Matt lapped at your clit like a man starved, all while his fingers resumed their motions, finally picking up pace, settling into a fast rhythm you so desperately needed.

You were racing towards your climax at a speed that would've been embarrassing if Matt hadn't been edging you all night. "Please," you choked out, tears streaming down your face from the sheer intensity of it all. "Please, Matt, you said I could come, I need it, please—"

And his hand that was holding on to you squeezed your hip, and that was all the confirmation you needed. Wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, Matt curled his fingers inside of you just right, pressing down on that spot, and then you just fell. Off that high cliff you had been dancing to and from for the entire night.

The plummet was truly something else: your back arched, and a ragged cry—almost scream—was falling from your mouth, incoherent noises and words reaching Matt's ears as orgasm surged over you like a tidal wave, knocking you off your feet and dragging you under into a blanket of blissful oblivion. You swore you saw stars popping in the corners of your blurry vision, so much white-hot pleasure burning through you, it was almost incomprehensible.

Matt slowed the drag of his fingers but kept up soft little kitten licks on your clit as you came down until you were twitching and whimpering from the oversensitivity. But he didn't wait for you to fully recover before continuing.

In one swift move, he flipped you over into your back, and you got a glimpse of his powerful form leaning over you, his flushed face, his straining bulge in his pants, his lust-filled eyes burning into you before his mouth crashed against yours in a fiery kiss.

You could practically feel his hunger devouring you from that kiss from the way he claimed your lips, hot tongue pressing into your mouth the second you opened to him. His teeth lightly nipped your bottom lip, and your moan was swallowed by his tongue sliding against yours. Matt groaned into your mouth, his hips grinding down against you.

"Matt," you whined when he broke the kiss to let you come up for air. "Please, I need you."

He growled, the hungry sound nothing short of feral as he dipped his head to suck at your neck. The hot embrace of his mouth at your throat had you keening, tilting your head back for more, which he gave you, his teeth grazed the delicate, vulnerable skin. A low hum rippled through his form before he suddenly sank his teeth into your neck, nipping you hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped, body involuntarily arching up into him as Matt dragged his tongue over the spot he had bit as if soothing it.

"Wanna mark you, sweetheart," he moaned into your neck. "So they know who you belong to."

Jesus fucking Christ. This man was going to be the death of you.

"Fuck me," you begged. "I want it, Matt, please. Mark me, fuck me, make me yours."

Another feral snarl rumbled deep in his chest, and then suddenly, you were lifted up into the air before your back hit a cold, stone table.

Did he just put you on the fucking altar?

You didn't have time to think about that, however, because Matt was hurriedly unbuckling his pants, and the only thought left in your head was finally. Eagerly, you helped him shove those goddamn pants off his hips, licking your lips at the sight of his straining cock in his boxers before you yanked those down too, reveling in Matt's soft whimper. His cock was painfully hard, the tip bright red and slick with his precum that dripped down his throbbing length. The mere sight of his gorgeous cock had you clenching your thighs together as you wrapped your hand around his thigh girth, stroking him softly. The throaty moan of your name he let out sent shivers racing down your spine.

"Sweetheart," he groaned, eyes falling shut.

"Please," you whined, "I need you, Matt. I need you inside me."

"Fuck," he breathed, and his fingers curled around your hips, yanking you forward suddenly. With a gasp, you were dragged across the altar until your legs could wrap around Matt, who was standing right between between thighs, all that thick, powerful muscle cradled between your legs. Matt lined his cock up with your entrance and brought his hand out to cradle your face. "I want to hear you scream for me," he ordered. "I want everyone to hear who you belong to."

You whimpered, nodding frantically. "I—yes, Matt, yes, just please—just fuck me, Matt."

Even like this, flushed, panting, and as obviously needy as you were, he could still manage that cocky smirk as his finger brushed across your lips. "You asked for it," he chuckled and finally, finally pushed himself into you, inch by burning inch.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your mouth falling open as slowly, he slid his thick length into you, the stretch of him in your cunt welcome after the emptiness of so long. "Matt," you moaned when he finally bottomed out, his ragged groan matching your own. God, he was so big, so thick, seated deep inside of you. His burning body molded perfectly against you, the endless expanse of lean muscle and soft skin glorious underneath your roaming hands.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," he panted, dragging his cock out slowly and sliding back in, his leisure pace driving you mad. "Ah!—fuck—you're so tight, baby."

"Want you," you moaned, arching into him. "Want you to fuck me. Fuck me the way I know you want to, Matt, please."

He let out another ragged groan, the hand cradling your cheek moving down to wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding for the time being. "Y-yeah?" he stuttered, trying to sound rough and in control but failing as he swallowed down another eager moan. You loved watching him like this, watching the way he fell apart in front of you, all because of you. "And what's that?"

You wrapped your legs around Matt's hips to let him grind deeper into your cunt, matching his heady pant with a needy whimper of your own. "Y-you wanna fuck me hard," you moaned out. "Could feel it, Matt, could feel the way you want it. Please, I—I can take it, I need you to—oh fuck!—fuck me rough. Take me, Matt, please."

His growl rumbled deep in his throat, and the large hand gripping your throat squeezed just once. Matt dipped his head down to place a kiss on your lips, sweet and gentle one last time as he purred against your mouth.

Then, he braced his other hand next to your head on the altar, and when he dragged his hips back, this time he returned to you with a vicious snap of his hips, slamming his cock back into you. A strangled gasp flew from your mouth as your hands scrambled against the altar surface beneath you, trying to find something to hold onto.

But there was nothing, nothing other than you and Matt and the fast, rough, almost brutal pace he set as he drove himself into you again and again. This pleasure was so much deeper and stronger than before, each delicious drag of his cock against your slick cunt sending sparks careening through your body until your brain felt overloaded with bliss. The sounds you two were making were nothing short of downright filthy: the slap of skin on skin as Matt's hips collided with your thighs, the slick noise of his cock gliding through your obscene wet cunt, the sinfully loud moans falling from both of your lips.

Matt's grip on your throat tightened when you clenched around his cock, and he growled, the sound thick and hazy with lust and need. He picked up his pace even more, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to feel it tomorrow, but you didn't give a shit. Worth it, in your opinion, if it came from Matt Murdock railing you like this.

"Matt," you slurred, half drunk on the pleasure he gave you. He stroked your jaw with his thumb, his blank eyes, dark with arousal and lust, focused somewhere around your lips.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted, his hips driving into you with animal-like need. "Y-you feel so good. So wet, so tight just for me. You sound so—fucking pretty getting fucked on my cock."

You whined, writhing beneath him even as his hand not gripping your throat pressed against your waist to hold you down. Every goddamn nerve in your body was screaming, burning, scorching with the pleasure that rolled across your body in throbbing waves. Matt adjusted his grip on your waist, lifting you up every so slightly but oh at that perfect angle that let him hit your g-spot with each thrust of his hips.

Your high moan, pitched almost at a scream, was the result as mind numbing pleasure sparked between your thighs with each harsh thrust. You clenched tighter around Matt, spurring his frantic thrusts on until he was pounding into you at a pace close to brutal, the obscene squelch of his cock diving into your soaked cunt echoing around you like an unholy melody, the chorus being your screams.

Matt leaned over you, panting roughly. You could smell the sweet scent of musk and sex in the air and see the way his pink mouth parted with each heavy breath against your throat. He lowered his head to drag along your cheek until his lips were pressed against your ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he groaned. "I can feel you, you're almost there." And you were for the second time that night, you could feel the cloud of your orgasm hovering right above you, pushed closer and closer by each brutal stroke of his cock inside of you.

"Come on, honey, come on my cock," Matt ordered, and you whined. "You're taking my cock so well, all you have to do is come for me. Be my good little girl and come all over my fucking cock."

That was all you needed. Your back arched off the altar, your hands shot out to grab desperately at Matt, your eyes squeezed shut, and your head was thrown back in absolute bliss. This time, orgasm rolled over you slower than the first time but even more intense. It scorched its way through every nerve ending in your body, consuming you like a blanket of fiery heat, making your vision go white. Distantly, you heard yourself scream—actually scream—as you descended into a blank state of pure, utter pleasure.

You could feel Matt's pace growing sloppy and frantic, short, desperate thrusts as he panted and groaned louder and louder until his hips stuttered against yours, and the most beautiful moan you had ever heard left his lips. He emptied himself into you, and you felt his hot seed spilling deep inside of your cunt even as Matt continued to grind into your tightness until every last drop of his spent was buried inside of you. He slumped over your body on the altar, both of your chests heaving in sync as you came down from your highs together.

Finally, Matt lifted his head from your chest and peered at you with his lovely dark eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly. "Was that too much?"

You cradled his face in your hands, marveling how this wonderful, wonderful man was yours. "It was perfect," you promised, kissing him sweetly. "It's never too much. I love you, Matt."

"Hmm," he hummed contently into your mouth. "I love you so much, sweetheart. You're sure you're okay?"

"Oh I am absolutely glowing, Matthew. If I had known this is what you meant when you said you wanted me to come to church with you, I would've came ages ago."

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AN: It's been a hot second since I've written full blown smut, so forgive me if it's kinda rusty. Although I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for this whole fic soooo 🤷‍♀️ I wanna say I need to go to church after writing this, but the last time I was in church, I came up with the most unholy smut fic idea ever, so maybe not a good idea (maybe it'll inspire another one though)

If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤

My Matt Murdock Masterlist

[two-white-butterflies]

violets for roses | c16

Description: Charles breaks up with you in search for higher ground. Where he realizes that he needs you beside him in order to truly win.

Pairing: charles leclerc/neurosurgeon!reader

Rating: Teen [jealousy, angst]

When he told you that he needed space - you gave it to him willingly, without any doubts or questions - because you knew deep inside that he'd come crawling back - that you couldn't live without each other. But when he wanted to make that space permanent? It caught you off guard.

"What do you mean?" you could feel your throat threaten to leak green bile. He seemed calm and composed from the other side of the call - a complete opposite of you. "I don't think that we're going to work in the long term, bebe." he dare used a nickname.

A small shudder escaped your lips.

"I don't understand," you shook your head - playing with the bracelet that he gifted you. "I want to focus on the championship." he began to explain his side of the story, but you couldn't help interrupt him. "Are you calling me a distraction?" you bite your lower lip.

You felt stupid.

Stupid because you weren't aware of his feelings. Unaware of the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. "I'm calling myself easily distracted," he defended you - knowing that half of his heart still belonged to the woman inside of you. "I-I think you're too good for me. You deserve someone who can stand beside you - hold your hand through accomplishments. That's not me." he prefaced.

While you were saving lives - he was toying with his own.

"Look at the future, bebe. Can you see a person who's barely there? I know you - I know that you want to be perfect. You dream about those white fences, a four bedroom house, kids that go to school - I can't give you that." he persuaded you, knowing deep inside his heart that he could give you that.

He could give you the family that you wanted - but he wanted to fix his life first. He wanted to make a name for himself.

"Well, there's no use in trying to force you to do something." you hum, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

"Goodbye, Leclerc." you hang up.

Charles_Leclerc: A single picture, yet it gives me a million emotions. I enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed drinking martinis by the beach and rolling down the sand dunes in Dubai. I enjoyed dancing in Ibiza, and singing down the streets of Los Angeles. I had fun, and I loved you - but good things must come to an end. Thank you, doctora. ❤️

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dr_yn_official: I'll be getting over you, my whole life. Merci du fond du coeur. @Charles_Leclerc

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CHARLES LECLERC AND GIRLFRIEND'S BREAKUP TO MATTY HEALY AND TAYLOR SWIFT SPLIT. (by deuxmoi)

Deuxmoi: Now I got this from one of his girlfriend's close friend, that Charles wanted to focus on the championship while she wanted to focus more on their relationship. A few months before their public breakup, they had a little break (now they didn't specify how long the 'break' lasted but they broke up officially before they got back together).

Unknown: That's shitty, because isn't Charles 25? He's old enough to know that a person should focus on what their girlfriend needs.

Deuxmoi: Yeah! And apparently, he was very 'fuck off' manner and he was all about himself. He was always talking about what he wanted and what he needed.

Unknown: Oh my god!

Deuxmoi: Now I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm not taking any sides, but my source told me that Y/N was bending over backwards to provide what he needed and wanted. At the end (he spoke up about their faults by phone call by the way) - at the end she just went 'alright i don't wanna make our relationship a favor to you' and broke up with him.

Unknown: She broke up with him?

Deuxmoi: Yes, she did.

"Are you alright?" your co-worker places a hand on your shoulder, seeing that you weren't able to finish the surgery. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stepped into the OR knowing that I'm like this." you sigh, leaning into the cold metal chair. You've seen the tweets about you. You've seen the hashtags on twitter. It wasn't helping.

"It's okay, you're the best surgeon in the hospital - and Dr. Alawi has finished the operation. No harm done - but I will be telling HR." the nurse warns you, and you answer with a nod. Fair is fair. "It's just hard getting over a breakup," you admit - wiping the sweat off your forehead. " -especially when it's with someone I see a future with."

She sits down beside you, offering a bottle of water.

"I don't want to ask anything personal, but if you need someone. I'll be here to help you - I'm sure that you'll see someone better." she comforted. "Lots of fish in the sea." she joked, earning a small laugh.

She glances at you - seeing the sad look on your face.

"Guess what," she smiled and you turned to look at her. "What?" you inquired - watching her open her phone. "You should go on a date, something that'll take your mind off him." she offered, showing you a picture of her cousin. "He's also a neurosurgeon. Dr. Pritchett, you'll love him." she smiled, browsing through his instagram posts.

A sigh escapes your mouth. Anything to get rid of Charles.

"Give me the date, I'll be there." you tell her, and she begins typing on her phone - presumably messaging the man.

The friendship between you and Dr. Pritchett grew with every event that he invited you to join. Soon enough, you find yourself tolerating his company - often leaning into his touch willingly.

"This institution was founded by my grandfather, Mr. Patel. It's helped so much patients that suffer from brain related diseases. I can't imagine a Monaco without it." your date boasted, touring the entire crowd around the tapestries hung around the hospital.

"The number of sponsors and volunteers grow with every month, now thanks to Formula One collaborating with us - we help a lot more people." he chuckled, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back - you almost forgot that your ex-boyfriend was in the crowd.

"It's beautiful here, I didn't expect it to be a hospital." Toto complimented, taking a slow sip of his champagne. He was one of the hospital's biggest donator. Truly, a nice guy. "We wanted it to feel like home." you add - showing them around the new building.

Your eyes trail towards the man beside him - Charles Leclerc.

"It feels like that," he hummed - a small frown on his face. You were getting on his nerves now - and so was the man beside you. "Most of our patients are children, the adults are in the other wing." Dr. Pritchett added, glancing at you. "We tried to make it as colorful as possible, but it's a hospital - decorum is needed." you hum, fingers dancing along the rim of your glass.

Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

officialyour_name: the annual st. luke's gala. thank you so much to @formulaone and @scuderiaferrari for sponsoring tonight's event. also to the f1 grid who are in full attendance!

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Charles had a lot of guts marching towards you.

"Hey," he breathed seeing that sad pout on your face. "Hey," you smiled at him - surprised to see him walking towards you with such bravery. Didn't he walk out of the door a few months ago?

"You're in a new relationship, huh?" he chuckled bitterly, sitting down on the wooden chair beside you. "Well, it's not a relationship - it's more of a friendship." you admit, doctors and formula one drivers have a lot in common - they both didn't have time for relationships.

Dr. Pritchett saw you as eye-candy. Something to pass time around.

"That relaxes me a bit," he hummed - letting the alcohol take full control of the situation. "I regret breaking up with you, to be honest." he scratched his nose, fearing your response. "Charles, don't." you warn him a disapproving stare.

You already learned from the past - you already let go of your wings in order to fly. He didn't have the right to take that away. He didn't have the right to take away your independence.

"I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to get back - together, bebe." he used the same term of endearment, waiting patiently for your reply. "You can't be serious," you scoff - feeling the eyes on you.

"I'll give you time, but you know how to find me." he stood up.

and you'll always find him.

(ONE YEAR LATER)

officialyour_name: never thought i'd be sharing a candid shot, but here we are ❤️

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"I can never seem to get rid of you," you chuckle - laying on the sand and watching him attempt to make a sand-castle. It's been six months since you last gave him a chance. Twelve months since that fateful gala. You've never been happier. "Well, you're jealous because my sand castles are beautiful." he boasted, filling it with water.

"Sure, bebe." you teased.

He's changed a lot. He's more honest with his feelings. He talks to you about his problems - instead of keeping it to himself.

He wasn't a good boyfriend before - but he was a great boyfriend now.

Charles_Leclerc: We gave it a bit of thinking, and we realized that we look better together. I realized that I'm better with her. Cheers to dancing in Ibiza, singing down L.A, slipping down Dubai, and drinking Martinis by the beach. @officialyour_name

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soldforparts12: YES! I KNEW THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN

officialyour_name: I LOVE YOU

officialyour_name: We look better in RED. Missed you, drama king.

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[green-eyedfirework]

To say this is a surprise is an understatement.

Slade made the offer in seriousness, though perhaps not fully.  It’s the first offer he’s made since Adeline’s passing and while it’s been four years, long enough for the grieving period to be over, he hasn’t given full thought to remarrying.  He has his hands full, with Grant’s sullenness and Joey’s muteness and then the addition of Rose, and the idea of finding a new mate was a distant one.

Richard Grayson is handsome, to be sure, and charming, a jewel of the Wayne pack with no shortage of admirers.  His introduction to society was unfortunately followed by his father’s disappearance and the flurry of a mourning period it prompted, cutting off courtships for a few years.  Lord Wayne was thankfully found a few months ago, but it appears he’s not quite all the way well, because Richard and his siblings arrived in London on their own this season.

They’ve been fawned over at every turn, a sickening display that Slade’s mostly avoided, but he ran into Richard quite by chance when Rose went missing on an outing at the park.  He found her with Wayne’s little brat of an heir, both kids shrieking gleefully under Richard’s fond supervision.  Once the children made friends, there was, of course, no escaping the interactions, and Slade watched with increasing desire as Richard calmly and evenly handled two sets of hellions with admirable ease.

The omega is young but mature, gracious and kind but also stubborn.  Protective of his packmates, of children no matter who they are.  Pretty.  Rich.  Enough hints of fire to pique Slade’s interest.

When Joey all but clambered into Slade’s lap to solemnly demand that Dick join their pack, his interest finally solidified into an offer.  Even Grant only made a huff at the proposition, a ringing endorsement from the sullen teen, and Rose was willing to do anything to ensure she keeps her playmate.

So Slade sent his offer, serious but expecting nothing of it.  For all the reasons Slade wants him, Grayson has a hundred admirers, younger, richer, belonging to more powerful families.  Slade is a widower with three children and Richard is the eldest omega of the Wayne pack, he didn’t imagine it would be taken seriously.

“Forgive me, but I have to be blunt,” Slade said, crossing his arms on his desk and leaning forward.  “Why?”

Richard is sitting in the seat opposite, straight-backed, shoulders relaxed, hands resting in his lap.  He radiates tension despite it.

“You were the one who made the offer, my lord,” Richard says evenly.  “Are you rescinding it?”

“I’m asking you why you’re accepting it,” Slade says flatly.  He has no patience for games.  “I’m nearly twice your age, with three children.  I cannot possibly be your best offer.”

“If you’re so certain I wouldn’t accept, why did you offer at all?”

Yet another question answered with a question.  If he wasn’t already suspicious, the deflections would cement it.

Slade narrows his eye.  “Don’t play naïve, boy, it doesn’t suit you.”  Something flickers in Richard’s eyes, there and gone.  “If I’m your choice, then there’s something you’re hiding.”  He drops his voice to a growl, “And I don’t like secrets near my family.  Not after what the last one did.”

Richard drops his gaze and swallows, shoulders hunching, giving into the anxiety hovering around him like a cloud.  Slade gives him a minute.  If he still won’t speak, Slade will have him thrown out.  The children will be unhappy, but better unhappy than maimed.

“I—I was—I am,” Richard swallows, tries again, swallows, tries again.  “It’s just—I wasn’t—I—”

“Just spit it out,” Slade snaps.

Richard doesn’t flinch, but he does draw in a deep breath, and when he exhales, he looks up to meet Slade’s gaze.  “I know that your lordship already has three children.  I was hoping that someone of your position, with an assured line of succession, would be more amenable to taking a mate with prior engagement in behaviors that might threaten the parentage of any heirs.  If I was wrong, I hope we can resolve this amicably and restore the goodwill between our packs.  It was never my intention to bring any harm to your pack.”

Slade takes a moment to sort through all of it.  Richard is ashen, but still keeping Slade’s gaze, sitting prim and proper as though he hasn’t just admitted to being ruined.

“You’re not chaste,” Slade says finally, leaning back.

“No,” Richard says.  His hands are clenched in his lap.

“Who?” Slade asks.

It’s not precisely idle curiosity, not with the darker parts of him wanting to shred to pieces anyone who dared to taste the omega.  An earlier courtship, maybe, one cut off by Lord Wayne’s disappearance and never resumed?  Slade knows that betrothed omegas and alphas will fool around, hiding away from their chaperones, not thinking about the consequences should the agreement be broken off.

“Does it matter?”  Richard’s jaw is tight.

Slade raises an eyebrow.  “If you want to reach an agreement, yes.”

Richard takes a controlled breath and looks away.  “Lord Desmond,” he says sharply.  That isn’t what Slade was expecting.  “It happened years ago.  It will never happen again, I swear it.  There was no one else.”

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!!! =D

So. We Are ep 13. I don't how they do this, but they keep making every episode better than the last. At this rate, I'll not be able to survive episode 16.

Warning: long post 😊😅 (there will be a smol part 2 because 30 screenshots are definitely not enough.)

We have the Best Parents in BL, but now I present to you: The Best Aunt in BL.

Subtle, Aunt Pui, real subtle. 😭

I get her. She just wants a nice, handsome boyfriend for her nephew. 😌

First of all, the symbolism is hitting me right in the face, but it's also so subtle because no one else knows the whole story, so they wouldn't be able to figure it out.

Secondly. Yes, the red and blue do clash a bit, and it's not the prettiest little painting. But. Not every painting has to be "pretty" or perfect. Just like feelings or emotions in real life. Peem didn't willingly draw over his precious painting because he thought it'd look better; he did it because he wanted it to express his feelings. This also ties into Peem's insecurity at having (apparently) failed at being Phum's comfort zone because see, in the painting it looks like the sea is embracing the roses, or protecting them.

What I'm trying to say, is that what makes art beautiful is not just what you directly see on the canvas/right in front of you. And this applies even to the "pretty" ones. The David is not just famous because it looks very good, but also because of the amount of skill and talent Michelangelo had to be able to create such a thing from a block of marble. (I'm sorry I'm not good at examples or analogies 😭)

Sir. What business do you have, making an expression like that and giving me a heart attack.

If I haven't said this before: find a man who looks at you like Phum (Pond) looks at Peem (Phuwin).

Two sides of the same coin.

Phum still feels guilty (which is very clear from his reaction to what Peem says) about ruining Peem's painting, so he wants to do something to make sure nothing like that ever happens to Peem again.

Peem is long over it (you don't ever forget shit like that, but he has definitely forgiven Phum). He met Phum because of that Incident™, and he has a new, upgraded painting, so this is just a light joke for him. But the moment he sees it's too soon for Phum, he immediately goes to reassure him he's just kidding, and he absolutely does not hold it over Phum.

A simple pinky promise, but how much does it mean to Phum?

He's never had someone to make a pinky promise with; Fang was in a similar situation as him, and Beer knew better to make a promise and have it broken by forces outside his control.

So this, this small, childish gesture means quite a bit to him. (Which is also probably why having broken it hurt him so much.)

And yet Peem, you're smiling so wide while saying that. Almost like *le gasp* you actually like it!

Let's be real here, Peem. You don't mind at all. In fact, you sounded unbearably fond saying this. You were quite literally giggling and kicking your feet. (Which fits my headcanon of him pretty well actually.)

This shot. Just >>>> (actually thinking of making it my header-)

Ma boy never misses a chance 😭👍🏼

And if he doen't get a chance, he makes one and nails that too. <3

SO CUTEE 🥺🫶🏼

Oh the teasing is on.

Pun: I did that 😌

Beer: Idiots in love. Again. *exasperated sigh*

[From this point on, I am extremely sleep deprived, so most comments made will probably (definitely) be forgotten by the time I wake up (I'm going right to sleep after posting this.]

Well, Chain, I'm sorry to be the one telling you this, but Phum moved into Peem's heart like 6 episodes ago.

Well, yeah, but Peem has to act at least a little bit like the tsundere he is, right?

Chain: "Well, can a cupid shoot an arrow at himself?"

Toey: *very telling side-eye*

Q: You really think one flirty line will trigger his half braincell to understand what he didn't in the past however many years? ...go on, I wanna see how this turns out

Pun: *pikachu meme face*

Beer: Oh damn here goes another one, we must be nearing the last episode

Phum: ????

Peem: Don't say anything don't say anything DON'T SAY ANYTHING DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING SAY A SINGLE WORD- (internally: Idiots. They're idiots.)

Ah, I love the sibling energy here. Also, initially I was like nah you're more like Tan. But then I gave it some thought. And had a Realization: he really is the Fang in their relationship, and Q really is the Tan. (I do not have the brainpower to explain rn, but tell me if you want me too, I'll include it in Part 2.)

Phum can't wait. (And neither can Peem, because I didn't see ya denying anything, babe. Instead, you gave him the softest shoulder bump in the history of soft shoulder bumps and that bigass (smitten) smile.

Oh boy this scene.

Right before this, when Peem called Phum immediately after the last brushstroke, I was smiling so hard and giggling like yesss do boyfriend-y things with each other!

Him waiting on the porch: still big smile. Here comes Phum! Ooh are they gonna flirt in the car??

My smile started dimming as the seconds ticked by and no Phum appeared on screen.

Until I finally realized what was happening.

I almost stopped breathing.

And as the scene went on my heart broke a little more with every text and every call, and I was watching that mall scene again. Except it was much much worse this time.

So long story short, I was heartbroken for both of them. Especially when Peem showed up alone with the saddest lost-kitten face ever.

But, at this point I knew Phum must have had something really urgent/unaviodable to miss his meeting with Peem because 1. He really really loves that boy and 2. He was very much looking forward to doing this with Peem.

Unfortunately, I will have to end Part 1 here (please don't kill me), and I'm loathe to end on a sad note, but I promise the next part will be much happier. It will hopefully be posted a little later today.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a pudding 🍮

My previous We Are posts.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 114

Part 1 Part 113

It’s fully dark by the time they trundle into the trailer park. The sceneries nostalgic, almost. Steve at his side, his feet aching from too long upright, not another soul in sight. There’s no ash floating in the air, and no vines squirming on the ground, and the sky’s not an ominous red.

Will he ever be able to walk down this familiar stretch of street without thinking of that time?

He almost hopes not. Without the Upside-Down, when he and Steve ever come together like this?

Maybe it’s stupid, but he wants to hold onto those memories just as much as this one. They’re what got him here, holding Steve Harrington’s hand, floating past cloud nine and straight into the stratosphere.

His glasses are chock full of roses.

It’s a tragedy that he has to drop Steve’s hand to open and unlock the door, but he makes do.

Wayne’s on his recliner when they stumble through the door, holding a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He glances away from the screen, double takes, then stares back, eyeing them both up and down with an eyebrow raised.

He takes a long, loud sip from his beer, then asks, “you boys have a fun night?”

Eddie glances at Steve, and it’s only then that he notices how disheveled they both must look. Steve’s lips are still swollen, and his hair’s fucked beyond repair. Steve’s eying Eddie in kind, making those same damning connections.

He looks worried around the edges, though, so Eddie does what he’s always done best: put on a show.

He turns to Wayne, hands planted on his hips and says, “Wayne, I’ve got something to tell you.” He reaches out, linking his hand with Steve’s once more. “I’m gay.”

Wayne snorts, coughing on his beer. It must burn because his eyes water as he gasps out, “you play too much, boy.” He wipes the overflow from his chin, glaring up at Eddie. “You finally figure your shit out?”

Eddie beams, squeezing Steve’s hand. “Stevie here figured it out for me.”

Wayne looks between them for a few seconds more before shrugging disinterestedly, says a flippant, “he’s my favorite son for a reason,” and then just turns back to the TV to continue flicking through channels.

And that’s it. That was all she wrote, and all that. The world just, keeps turning.

“Should we tell anyone?” Steve asks that night, curled up into his side the way he always is. “Besides Will?”

He pulls Steve closer, the fondness in his chest expanding to the point of pain. Will, who is a part of their fucked up little trio. Of course, they’ll tell him.

It might even help him come to terms with some things that were hard won, brutal battles for Eddie when he was Will’s age. Give the kid a little hope, and all that. Hope that there are partners better out there than Mike Wheeler, the turd.

Eddie hums, skimming his fingers up and down Steve’s arm. “Well, Wayne figured it out the minute he looked at us, that’s one down.” He holds up one finger before bringing it back to Steve’s arm and tapping it against it. “You told Carol, so that adds in her and Barb.” Fingers two and three, tap, tap.

“Jeff?”

“Oh, definitely Jeff.” Eddie raises a fourth finger, taps it once before unlocking his thumb so he can clutch Steve’s hand. He pulls it up to his own chest, pressing it to the beating of his heart. “He wants me to tell him about the Upside-Down.”

Steve’s quiet, and it’s too dark to read his face no matter how hard Eddie strains his eyes.

“Do you think I should?”

Steve sighs, digging his pointy chin into Eddie’s shoulder. “I don’t know, man.”

“Man,” Eddie cuts in, mockingly. “Your tongue was in my mouth like, ten minutes ago.”

Eddie’s body shakes with Steve’s quiet laughter. “Fine, whatever,” he huffs. “It’s not up to me, Loverboy.”

The nicknames got that same mocking edge Eddie himself had used. It still makes his heartbeat stutter in his chest.

“But I’m not sure this is a situation where not knowing would help them?” he continues, voice lilting up at the end like it’s a question. “I mean, it didn’t help us.”

Eddie sighs, letting himself melt into the springy mattress. Look at all of them. They’d left Carol in the dark, and she’d crawled her way into the inner circle by her hell-beast talons.

Stumbling around in the dark never helped anyone.

“I’ll think about it,” Eddie says, already knowing that its too late. The worm’s wriggled its way into his brain and made a home there.

But there’s an order to these things, and Will comes first, always. They clamber into Eddie’s van in the morning, ready to enjoy whatever somehow overcooked and overcooked concoction Mama Byers has made for breakfast.

Jonathan opens the door before they’re even out of the van. He leans against the door jam, crossing his arms and glaring hatefully out at them, still in his raggedy pajama pants.

“Johnny Boy!” Eddie calls, beaming as he bounds up to him, shoving past him to come into the house, uninvited. “You’re looking mighty cheerful this morning.”

“Sorry, I don’t have a cheerful face on for the early-morning uninvited guests,” he grumbles, stepping out of the way and letting Steve through with much less ire.

Eddie can’t blame him. Steve’s in his stupid yellow sweater looking soft and warm in the November air. Eddie can’t compete with that, doesn’t even want to.

“Is Will up?” Steve asks, in a far more appropriate volume for the early morning.  

Jonathan gestures toward the back of the house before stumbling over to the couch and sinking into it.

Mama Byers isn’t anywhere in sight, and the house is quiet enough that their voices may carry. Eddie’s not worried. These people are his family, and more importantly, they’re Will’s.

If the wall’s have got ears, he couldn’t pick anyone better to be listening. He’d bare any bit of himself here, if Will needs him to.

Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and pulls him along toward Will’s bedroom. It’s time to get this show on the road.

Part 115

[vampirzina]

Hello! Your hc de smoke as a father are great. I had an idea with that. How about Tomas taking his children on vacation to the Czech Republic? This is a bit silly, you can ignore it if you don't want to do it 😄

˚୨୧⋆｡ ┆father!tomas vrbada (w. spouse!reader) hcs

╰ visiting Tomas’ homeland

tw: gn pronouns (you/your), afab reader, sfw, mdni, established relationship, hcs

notes: it’s alright! however im not entirely familiar with the czech republic and most of this stuff is just a little deeper than surface level research for the sake of time, so lmk if anything is inaccurate and such!

masterlist : rose divider

It’s not lost on anyone where Tomas Vrbada’s from. He’s told you plenty about his childhood and the fond memories he’s made there—and you made the fleeting comment that the four of you should go one day… You didn’t know he’d take you seriously, and now you’re walking the twins behind their father to a portal. Of course, you both thank Liu Kang for the free flight. Tomas transforms into your tour guide, and he plays into the role very well.

Tomas takes you and the kids to Prague’s zoo, first and foremost. It’s the perfect starter spot, and one of the most popular attractions there. They would be considerably young at this time, so there’s a seat on Tomas’ shoulders that one of the twins can sit on (and just like at their home home, Tomas makes sure to alternate between them). If one of them can’t see—he hoists them up with a hand.

After that, Tomas makes the trek with you three to the Charles Bridge. He knew that everyone would be complaining about being hungry by time he got there, even if he was taking a shortcut he knew for the longest time—lucky for him, there’s plenty to eat over there. So quickly, he snapped a few photos there of you, you and the kids, you again, and then you and him (he’d have to keep the twins from fighting over the camera all while instructing one of them to hold it while the other presses the button), and then asking a passing stranger to take a photo of the four of you.

There’s many towers in Prague, so Tomas only thinks to take you all to one. If you enjoy books, you don’t let him choose anything other than the Klementinum. Otherwise, Tomas takes you all to Prašná brána. You see through his meticulous planning, because it’s not too long after that you find yourselves in a museum. He makes sure to hold hands with the twins so that they don’t get handsy with the artifacts there.

When the adventure is done (for now) and it’s time to go back home, Tomas does sit and reminisce for a long while. He hates having to tell puppy-eyed kids it’s time to go home. You didn’t get to go to all of the places he wanted to—but it was nice for a while to forget about the life he leads in trade for fun and great bonding time. You promised to remind him to bring everyone back some other time so that you all could get out of the city and into more rural areas, and as fun as that sounds, he jokingly said that for the next trip, everyone should go to where you’re from instead.

As the night falls, you and Tomas spend a lot of time getting your photos printed. He couldn’t stop cheesing the entire time just going through them on the camera; he couldn’t keep his hands and lips off of you, in fact. This is the longest Tomas has ever been happy, and it reinforces why he’s more than in love with you—Tomas is infatuated with you.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

[ejzah]

A/N: I hope everyone celebrating had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

***

Gratitude

Deeks dumped the boiling water from a massive stock pot into the sink, recoiling from the rush of stem billowing up towards him. When most of the water was drained, he set the pot to the side, and added several tablespoons of butter.

“Rosalie, how’s it going?” he asked, joining her at the counter where she had cutting boards, bowls of ingredients, and a large platter spread out in front of her.

“The fiambre is almost ready,” Rosa said, delicately placing folded pieces of ham atop a very colorful salad. It contained a truly impressive number of vegetables, cheese, meat and other ingredients that somehow worked together.

“It looks fantastic.” She smiled at the compliment, offering him an olive. Deeks accepted it, chewing as he looked around the busy kitchen.

“The potatoes are ready to mash, and Mama Deeks is basting the turkey for the last time. Do you need any help?” he asked. “I could cut some more radish roses.

“No, I think I have everything. Thank you, though.”

“Mama?”

Roberta huffed from her spot by the oven, looking over her shoulder. “Marty, you know I can cook a turkey in my sleep,” she said dismissively.

“Yeah, let’s not have a repeat of that, please,” he requested.

Rosa raised an eyebrow, tilting her head at him, and he shook his head quickly mouthing, “Don’t ask.”

Rosa shook her head, continuing with layering her salad. He expected that story would come up sometime tonight. The Thanksgiving they’d eaten pizza for dinner because Roberta slept through an alarm was hardly the most scandalous story she’d shared.

Leaving Rosa and Roberta to their devices, he walked out into the living room and right into some twins shenanigans.

“Hey Kiddo, where you think you’re going?”

Caleb, in the process of pulling himself up from a chair onto the dining room table opened up and set to accommodate their guests. He jumped, spinning around with a startled look. Grabbing him under the armpits, Deeks swung him down into the floor. He turned to Sophia, who clung to one of the table legs.

“And what are you up to, Miss Sophie?”

She offered him a wide, innocent smile that spelled nothing but trouble.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said. Picking them both up around the waist, he deposited a kiss on each of their heads. “C’mon, let’s get some of your toys.”

Deeks had just got them set up in the front room with piles of blocks when Kensi came rushing out of the bedroom.

“Caleb, Sophia!”

“They’re in here, baby!” Deeks said, leaning over so she could see him around the table.

“Oh, thank goodness. I left them in the bedroom while I went to the bathroom,” she explained, regarding the twins with fond exasperation. “I thought they’d be ok for a couple minutes, but apparently someone figured out how to open the door.”

Wado,” Caleb replied with a grin.

“Of course you’d say that,” Kensi replied, and bent to kiss him. She sat down opposite Deeks, settling Sophia between her legs. “How’s everything in the kitchen? I didn’t hear any shouting.”

“Everything’s almost ready. We should probably go check if there’s anything else we can help with before everyone else gets here.”

“Ok. Come on Sophie. Let’s make sure Grandma Deeks doesn’t spike the cranberries again.” Kensi settled Sophia on her hip.

“Oh, I already hid the vodka, bourbon, and scotch,” Deeks told her. He poked his head through the kitchen door, smiling at what he saw.

Roberta and Rosa’s head were bent over a saucepan. She offered a spoon of the contents to Rosa, who tasted it and tilted her head.

“Hm, it might need a little more pepper.”

“Yeah, you might be right, kiddo. You got good taste,” Roberta replied, giving her an approving pat on the shoulder.

“It’s a lot different than our first Thanksgiving together, isn’t it?” Deeks murmured. He didn’t want to interrupt the moment between the two.

“You mean when our mom’s were ready to battle it out to cook dinner?” Kensi asked wryly.

“Yeah. Not to mention the three kids.” He watched Rosa and his mom for a few more moments. “Is it cheesy to say this is what I’m thankful for?”

“Mm, yeah. But I feel the same way.” Sighing contentedly, Kensi leaned her head against his.

Yeah, grateful didn’t even begin to cover it.

***

A/N: Based on a little research, fiambre is a common Thanksgiving/holiday dish served in Guatemalan families.

[divorcingjimmatthews]

jim/jade/tabby post-escape scenario

i know they won't escape this season but what if they did. and they were poly about it

jade goes back to NY to sort out his financial business and get his life back in order

he hasn't seen jim and tabitha in a few months now, but he misses them like crazy, specially tabitha

he finally reaches out to ask how they're doing, tabitha says its hard dealing with the separation, etc.

the kids are specially struggling to adjust back to their normal lives, and she feels like she's losing control of the situation

jade asks if money would help. she tells him that actually, if he came for a visit it might really help ethan because he keeps asking about him and victor and everyone else from the town

jade shows up on tabitha's doorstep looking his best, and holding a bouquet of roses

jim is there when she opens the door

"i thought you said you had separated"

turns out, they didn't want to shake up the kids lives even further, so they agreed to keep living together for a couple of years until julie went off to college

apparently the separation really helped the friction between them decrease, so at least the constant arguments are no longer a problem in the household

but jim is still definitely not ready to watch someone else try to woo his ex-wife. he can't decide if it being jade makes it slightly less terrible or a million times worse

he grabs his coat off a hanger in the hallway and walks towards the door

tabitha: "where are you going?"

jim: "for a walk!"

he storms past jade, not caring that he's shoving him with his shoulder as he does so, and closes the door behind him

tabitha takes the flowers and shakes her head with a sigh. "he always does this!"

her accent comes through as she complains

jade can't stop staring at her. he missed her so much, and he realises that he never wants to be far from her again if he can help it

"i'm sorry. this was probably a terrible idea."

tabitha sighs again, but she smiles. she smiles, and it makes his heart swell three times its size

"i really missed you." he points at the roses. "just. ignore those. it just felt right, but, you know—i can be a fucking idiot sometimes, so..."

she just lets him talk. there's a fondness in her eyes.

"can you say something?"

"i... i don't know" she says with a shrug "i don't know. if you want an answer—i don't know"

"no, of course, i... i don't know what i expected. listen, i'll come back later, just text me when the kids are back from school, okay?"

tabitha nods, and he leaves. he runs into jim on his way out, who was just sitting in his car parked right around the corner. jade gets in the car

"look, i can't blame you for trying"

"she said 'i don't know'. what do you think that means?"

"i think it means that you might be in for one hell of a ride."

later, ethan is so happy to see jade, and julie pretends to be barely tolerating him but makes no efforts to leave the room

they all notice how tabitha looks happier with jade around, except for jade who has no frame of reference and assumes she must be just tolerating his presence after the confession

jade offers to take the whole family out for dinner, but julie is working hard to catch up with her studies to graduate with her friends so it's just them and ethan (because jim and tabitha promised julie that they wouldn't make her babysit ethan anymore)

the dinner —at the fanciest restaurant in town, which made jim roll his eyes but provided lots of fun and entertainment for ethan—goes surprisingly well, just like the afternoon went

jim takes ethan and leaves to refuel the car while jade takes care of the check (ethan loves it when his dad explains how cars and fuel work)

"i want this" tabitha says out of the blue while they wait for jim to come back

"what?"

"you wanted an answer. i don't want jim to move out. and i don't want you to leave either. i just want this. i want today, every day. is that crazy?"

"it's not crazy. it sounds—perfect, actually"

he sounds like he's about to tear up

they're standing next to each other outside the restaurant. they nod to each other, and her hand finds his own, and her fingers tentatively find their way to interlace with his

he actually does tear up when she does this, and starts apologising

"fuck—sorry, i..."

he needs to take deep breaths

and no, neither of them have the slightest idea of how they're going to bring this up to jim