#one month ago he probably thinks I hate h

[mayowayo]

BINA???????? OH MY GOD?? HEY I LOVE YOU AND I MISS YOU ITS OK

@julielovezcats JULIE ONGGF

[tsukisrants]

TIME TO WORK

Park Seonghwa x Reader

Warnings: Rough sex, Name calling, Slut shaming, Sex in exchange of money, Kind of Hate Sex?, Spit, Anal play, Choking, Dom/sub undertones, Humiliation, Degradation, Slapping, Spanking, Creampie!!, Squirting, Unprotected Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough Oral Sex…,

Word Count: 9.268

“You’re in a desperate need for a job, and you go and ask for help to Park Seonghwa, one of the richest men in the country. Thing his, you broke his heart years ago: now he wants payback.”

————————smut under the cut ————————

Waiting has never been a problem for you.

Not once, expect for now.

See, you’re pretty prideful of your patience and of the way you can handle situations when experiencing stress.

Now? You look like a damn fool.

You’re not even sure you can actually recognize yourself, if you were to be completely honest.

Standing in front of that door, desperate and pathetic.

Your arms are shaking, your hands feel cold and weak.

If you were to grab a butterfly, the little thing would probably laugh at you and bite you. 
And we all know butterflies don’t actually bite.

Do they?

You have no idea.

Right now, your only thought is: will I be able to make it?

Will I look like an idiot in front of him?

Will he laugh at me?

Will I like it?

“Miss? Miss…?”

What? What?

You turn you head and you see the girl: confused eyes, hair tied up neatly and arms busy carrying so many papers.

“Oh- Hi… I booked an appointment a while ago? I think one of your colleagues let me in, I’m Y/N…”, you stutter, clearing your throat as you try to get out of your own head and focus on the situation that you inevitably have to deal with.

“Right! Yes, of course”, says the girl. She smiles, but it’s fake. A smile made out of obligation, out of compassion. It’s her job, nothing more. She doesn’t care about you: just like you don’t care about her.

She’s just a mean to an end, and she knows it.

“Please, follow me, dear. Mr Park is ready to meet you”, she adds, waving her hands towards the door, suggesting you to use those useless limbs of yours and start to move.

You like this girl: she looks perfect in her role.

She doesn’t give a fuck about anything, and she makes you feel at ease, somehow.

She has no idea why you’re here, but in her eyes, her bored eyes, you sense that she feels pity for the dumb girl standing in front of the door of one of the most powerful men in South Korea.

The door is closer.

You’re walking and you don’t even notice it until it’s too late not to.

The door handle is shiny, glistening under the lights.

You want to scream at it.

To rip it off the door and run away: that thing probably would cover your rent cost for the whole month if you sold it.

“Mr Park, your appointment is here”, you hear.

You’re gonna faint.

You so are gonna faint.

You don’t.

You don’t how you manage not to, but the only thing that matters is that you didn’t.

There’s really no need for any other reasons for you to feel like an idiot right now.

The ones you have are already more than enough.

“Let them in, thank you.”

Ok, now you’ll faint.

No way.

It’s been a while since you last heard his voice, but it changed so much whilst remaining so… warm. So him.

You take a deep breath, because now the door isn’t just closer: it’s open.

Fist thing you notice?

The smell.

Or, well, the richness of it.

With all your senses you only are able to perceive one thing: power.

Power and money.

The door closes behind you.

The girl not by your side anymore.

You’re alone now.

But not really, because when you finally raise your head you’re finally able to see him.

Park Seonghwa.

The man everyone either wants, or wants to be.

The man you’ve had, if only for a few months, back when you both were stupid teens.

The same man that is now looking at you, staring you down with that piercing gaze of his.

It’s hard for you to open your mouth and speak up, but you know that you have to, and quickly.

It’s hard, when you have Korea’s wet dream right in front of you.

“H-Hi”, you say.

Which is actually pretty pathetic, especially considering the way your voice shakes and the fact that you should be at least attempting some sort of professionalism given the circumstances.

Well, at least it makes him laugh.

Which means that yes, he recognized you. 


And yes, you actually don’t mind being laughed at.

You don’t know if it’s a thing for you or just the fact that you don’t mind it if he’s the one laughing, which in your opinion would be fair.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”

Well, fuck.

First thing first, he said your name: and he made it sound like the nastiest thing in the world.

Or maybe you’re just a slut, you can’t really decide.

Whatever.

And the sarcasm.

He’s still mad at you, just like you expected.

You did disappear from his life with no explanation and flew to another country whilst in a relationship with him, after all.

In your defence, you were a dumb kid: you were younger than he was and desperately in love with him. Saying goodbye would have killed you, so you made the most childish and selfish decision ever: you just went away.

One day you guys were holding hands and making plans, and the day after you were just… gone.

You had to leave everything behind cause your mom and dad divorced, and you mother couldn’t bare to keep on living in the same country as the man that ruined her life.

So you followed her, and you two moved on together.


You forgot all about perfect Park Seonghwa, or that’s what you like to tell yourself.

Because if you really had forgotten all about the man, you wouldn’t be standing in his office ready to humiliate yourself.

“W-well… you see, I’m… I thought that maybe…”, words keep on falling from your lips, now all bitten from the nervousness you had to endure waiting for this moment.

Seonghwa isn’t impressed.

He takes his hands out of the pockets of his slacks, only to bring them to his chest. He crosses his arms and slightly tilts his head to the side, an eyebrow raised and a judgment mixed with a not so well hidden amusement written all over his face.

“Y-You t-thought what, exactly?”

Ok, you didn’t expect that.

Mocking you already?

A sign, that’s what this is. A sign that you should turn your heels and fucking run as far as possible from this man.

He looks possessed.

He looks so mean, despite his ethereal beauty.

Obviously, you don’t run.

You wouldn’t be here in the first place if you had any self preservation or respect.

“M’sorry, Hwa, I really am. I know I’ve been”, you try to say, but he cuts you off.

He doesn’t let you finish.

“Who’s Hwa? It’s Mr Park to you”, he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Like you’re a stupid fucking idiot just cause you thought you could refer to him like you used to.

“Sir, if I’m feeling kind and if you’ve earned it”, he adds, dropping himself on his pompous chair.

His legs are slightly spread: not enough to be vulgar, but just right. To show dominance, and to make you see that he really owns this place.

Not like you had any doubts, but whatever.

It’s not like you mind it anyways.

You wish you had any smart come-back for his tone, but you don’t.

And, well, you’re in no position to be a jerk: you came here to beg, after all.

“M-Mr Park…” you start, and he chuckles.

“That’s more like it”, he comments, and you don’t miss the way his tongue goes to wet those sinful lips of his.

You follow every single one of his movements, as if you’re trying to study them, as if staring at him could help you achieve your goals.

Only thing is helping you achieve is getting wet in front of your ex-boyfriend, but that’s not the point.

“I know I have no right to come here and ask you for help, but-“, you take a deep breath, “I- I lost my job and I’m alone and I have rent and bills and I’m behind with my payments… if I don’t hand the money to my landlord tonight they’re gonna kick me out and…”

He looks surprised, amused, confused and much more.

You, well… you look humiliated, that’s for sure.

But you knew it was bound to happen, and you’d rather beg for mercy than sleep under a bridge or who knows where else.

“And you’re telling me this because…” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer to that.

He’s enjoying this just like you expected.

“C-cause I thought t-that maybe you could help, l-like what’s some money to you, anyways? And you and I, we have a past, you’d be helping an old friend?”

You’re so shameless, it’s disgusting.

But, desperate times call for desperate way, or something like that.

You just know that you need the money, and you need them now.

He laughs, out loud. Shaking his head and muttering about how absurd this whole situation is, as if you don’t know it already. But whatever:

“I’ll pay you back, of course. Just… give me some time and I promise, Hw- Mr Park, I promise I’ll pay you back.”

He gets up.

He looks mean, and his face hides something.

He looks huge, and you stand in place, frozen.

You’re breathing heavily, and you notice that your hands are shaking.

Your legs, too.

Cold sweat is running down your spine, and you feel lost.

He gets closer.

He’s so beautiful, and he gets more handsome with every step he takes towards your trembling figure.

“Money is nothing to me, you’re right. But you really think that, after everything you did to me, I’m just gonna pay your debts? After humiliating me like that, breaking my heart? Are you really that much of a shameless bitch, Y/N?”

His voice is sharp, and his words hit you like daggers.

But, to be honest, you were waiting for them to come. You knew they were.

That doesn’t make them less hurtful.

Seonghwa is right in front of you, and to look at him in the eyes you have to slightly tilt your head, cause he’s so much taller than you now.

He smells rich, and warm. Different than he used to, more mature.

He’s a man now, that much is very clear to you.

His proximity makes you even more nervous, but at the same time the familiarity of it gives you some confidence.

“I-I’m sorry, I swear I am”, you murmur, and you notice that tears are starting to fill your eyes.

He looks pleased at the sight of it, and your belly tightens at the implications of him being engaged in your suffering.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” he repeats after you, chuckling as tears spill from your eyes, crossing your reddening cheeks.

“You want my money, Y/N? You want a bed and a roof on your head?”, he asks, and one of his hands unexpectedly comes up to your face, gently caressing it.

His touch is light and delicate, but you still feel shivers run through your body.

You nod desperately, murmuring a “yes, please” that he barely hears.

“Then you‘ll have to earn it”, he says.

His face is unreadable, but you can’t believe that, despite everything, he’d be willing to help. You feel so happy you could die, and you’re ready to do anything in order to save yourself from the streets.

“I will! I have my degree and I’ll be more than happy to-“, he stops you, and you frown.

From his expression it seems like he’s ready to make fun of you.

“A degree?”, he asks, and you nod, ready to explain yourself, but he doesn’t allow you to.

“You don’t need a degree to suck my dick, Y/N.”

The world is silent.

Your blood is too loud. You feel your heartbeat and his, you feel everything and nothing at the same time.

You’re confused, but not a single word comes out your mouth.

After that, he doesn’t say a word. He just goes a few steps back and leans against his desk.

His legs are open, and you see the bulge of his cock that’s clearly starting to get hard.

You don’t move, you just try to get your brain to function.

What does this mean? Is he serious?

He must be joking, right?

But he isn’t, and you know it: this is payback.

It was going too well, to smoothly.

And now, after all these years, he’s finally granted the chance to humiliate you and destroy you the way you did to him.

The thing is: you need the money. You really do, and you did say that you’d do anything to get it.

But this? This means whoring yourself out.

This means becoming a slut, and nothing more.

With this thought in mind, you move your first steps: not towards the door, to run as fast as possible away from him, but towards his imposing figure.

He laughs, almost as if he doesn’t actually believe what’s happening in front of him.

“You have no shame, do you? Are you really this pathetic?”

As you fall on your knees in front of him, you can’t do anything but agree with his words

He mutters a few curses, and you take the deepest breath ever known to man.

Then, you look up, and are met with the bulge of his cock, tight inside his expensive slacks.

“What a fucking slut”, he says, before moving his arms and grabbing you by the hair.

He forces your face against his crotch, and you almost fall: you find yourself grabbing his thighs in order not to.

He’s rough, and nothing like the gentle Seonghwa you knew and loved as a teenager: the one that would touch you as if you’d break, like you were a delicate flower.

You don’t really miss him.

“Wish I could call everyone from school to let them know that you’re sucking my dick for money, that you’re a worthless slut that would take dick for a few bucks”, he says, pushing his hips against your face, rubbing his clothed cock over it.

The smell of it is intense, and the weight of it scares you: it’s huge, you can tell. So fucking big that it’s not fair.

Your mind is racing, your heart is pounding, and you can feel the tears streaming down your face as you realize the depth of your desperation. But you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. You’re ready to do whatever it takes to get the money you need.

As you lean forward, ready to fulfill his demands, a voice in your head screams at you to stop.

This isn't right. This isn't who you are.

But the fear of being homeless, of losing everything, pushes you forward.

That fear, and that humiliation, they also make you wetter than you’ve ever been before.

Shame burns into your chest, flames running through your veins.

“Bet you’d suck their cocks, too, wouldn’t you?”

His words sting in the most delicious way, and you find yourself purring against the big cock in front of your face.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks again, grabbing your hair and forcing your face slightly upwards, enough to have your gazes meet.

It’s exhilarating to say the least, this feeling of shame and submission that is swimming through your shaking body.

“Y-yours, want- want your cock, not- only yours,” you mumble, your brain barely functioning at this point as you’re way too inebriated by the arousal building inside you.

He seems pleased, very much so. His tongue rapidly escapes his mouth and you watch, enchanted, as it wets his juicy lips.

I find yourself staring and wishing that tongue could be inside your pussy, forcing it open as more fluid escapes from it, leaving your panties wet and humid.

“Then take it out and get to work. Time is money, isn’t it? Don’t you wanna earn more?” he chuckles, moving around his seat.

You see him bend over a little and soon after that he takes his wallet, pulling out a shiny banknote.

You watch cautiously as he waves it in front of your face, and the image that appears before your eyes is one of the most humiliating and exciting you have ever seen.

You startle when, unexpectedly, he drops it against your helpless body.

The banknote brushes against your face before falling on your thighs, and this only motivates you to do better, to show him how much you are worth.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper, finally getting to work and working his pants. You unfasten his belt, the sound loud and steady as your breathing increases and gets heavier.

It takes some effort, but you actually manage to take his pants down his thighs and have them reach the floor along with his boxer briefs.

They pool obscenely at his ankles, and he makes himself comfortable on his expensive chair, spreading his legs wider and wider.

You find the courage to look up at his cock, and the sight of it is enough to pull a moan from you, one that leaves you even more ashamed of yourself.

“So big,” you mutter out, pressing your own legs together from when your kneeling to find some release, to soothe the burning need to be filled up that’s been rushing through your body.

Your pussy clenches around nothing and it’s pathetic, because he hasn’t even touched you once.

Guess you’re just that much of a slut, after all.

“Yeah? You like it, slut? You like this big cock?” he asks, pushing his hips upwards and making said cock move in front of your face.

It’s thick, long, and so, so hard.

The tip of it is the prettiest shade of red and pink, and it’s glistening with his arousal.

Veins run through the length of it and you can see it pulse with the need to be shoved inside something.

That something is you.

Cause, after all, that’s your purpose here.

To be a hole for him to fuck into.

To be a thing, a nothing else. Nothing more than that.

“I love it, love your cock,” you whisper, reaching out to grab it at the base with your hands.

Seonghwa stops you, grabbing harshly at your wrists and forcing your body closer to his as you stumble forwards.

“No hands,” he orders, smiling maliciously.

“Lick it, start with my balls,” he orders, biting at his plump lower lip, his eyes shining with an intense darkness.

His words are, unsurprisingly, harsh and mean.

And, well, just as unsurprisingly, you find yourself loving them and enjoying the rush that they provide to you.

The air around you starts to get heavy and dense, and it’s almost like you can feel the weight of it as it presses down against your flushed skin.

Your blood is loud as it swims through your veins, and you hear beats fast, the sound of it reaching your ears.

His tone leaves out any possible refusal, so you just… obey.

It’s empowering, exhilarating.

It’s everything you’ve always craved without even knowing it.

Slowly, you lean over and breathe in, the powerful scent of his arousal hitting you and invading your senses, dominating your whole being.

The only thing that’s in your mind right now is the irresistible need of pleasing him and showing him that you’re worth his money, nothing else.

With that thought in mind, you finally get into work.

Your mouth salivating and wetting itself, you stick your tongue out and fulfill his wishes, lapping at his balls and nuzzling against the sensitive skin.

The groan he lets out vibrates through the room and sends shivers all the way down your spine.

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he pushes his hips forwards and works at his tie, untying it and proceeding then to open his nice dress shirt, button after button, showing inches of defined skin, muscles tensed with the way pleasure is circling around his body.

He’s rather magnificent, sitting in front of you and holding so much power, so much energy that it feels like the room is going to implode with it.

“Good girl,” he moans, forcing his hips upwards as you take them inside your mouth, the weight of his sack filling you up as you lick at it, feeling the skin and its texture against your tongue, moaning as your nose presses against the base of his dick, making it harder to breathe normally.

His words force a moan out of your mouth, too, and he notices it, chuckling softly through his low moans.

You feel something at your neck and notice soon enough that what’s now circling your throat isn’t is hand, no.

It’s his tie, forcing you closer to his balls and basically working as a fucking leash.

“Look at you, such an obedient little bitch, aren’t you?”

The way your hips stutter and wave doesn’t help, and you feel like a puppy wiggling their tail when presented with a treat.

“Bark,” he orders, allowing you to breathe and leaving your mouth empty, a trail of spit connection his balls, now shining and wet, with your parted, and roughed up lips.

You blush profoundly, your cheeks turning a crimson red as you consider his order.

Barking feels completely dehumanizing, and your hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, not in the slightest.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, one of his eyebrows lifting up as he eyes you curiously, as if posing a challenge to you, daring you to try and refuse to follow one of his orders.

“It’s embarrassing…” you whisper, breathing heavily and trying to avoid looking at him in the eyes, failing at it when he tugs at the tie resting against your neck, making you get closer to the cock standing proudly in front of your face.

“Do I look like I fucking care?”

And soon enough, a bark is escaping your mouth, faint and barely audible.

It’s not enough, he says.

You bark again, loudly this time, shaking from where you’re kneeling and feeling the wetness between your legs get more difficult to ignore.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’d say you’re a natural,” he snarls, laughing at you as he looks down at your body.

Tears of utter humiliation fill your pleading eyes, and the sight of it makes Seonghwa groan deeply.

He grabs his own dick at the base, giving it a few pumps, before hitting you in the face with the tip, smearing his precum all over your flushed face.

One of the tears you were fighting back betray you, escaping your lashed and running down your cheek.

Seonghwa licks his lips and rubs the tip of his dick against it, wetting his cock with your tears only to start rubbing it against your lips, making you taste your humiliation along with his arousal.

It’s salty and sour and sweet altogether, and you already find yourself getting addicted to it, needing more and more and more.

So you get your tongue out, lapping at the shiny tip of his cock. You circle around the head, moaning at the feeling of warmth that spreads through your tongue.

“Tastes good,” you mutter out, licking fervently at his cock as he keeps on stroking himself, grunting from where he’s sitting.

You go even further than just staying there, licking at it, and you take his wrist into your hand and pull it off his own dick, surprising him with your determination.

Seonghwa lets you have some fun with it, allowing you to reach out to grab the length of his cock.

You have it in your hands, finally.

You stroke it once, twice, before bending over a little bit to push the head inside your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking gently at it to try and taste as much as possible of his delicious juice.

“Fuck,” he groans, using one of his hands to keep your hair out of your face, giving him space to look at your eyes as you get your mouth stuffed full of his thick cock.

You take your time, eager to savor every drop of his pleasure, to give yourself to him and make him satisfied like never before.

His cock slides between your parted lips with extreme ease, filling your mouth completely, giving you a sensation of fullness never felt before and leaving you inevitably curious to know how it would feel if he filled you up elsewhere too.

The reddened tip of his cock meets the back of your throat and choking sounds escape from your mouth, and when he hears them he just moans even more, louder than before.

He enjoys watching you struggle to take more in your mouth and it pushes you to relax your throat and let his big cock fill you completely, taking your breath away for a few seconds, and making spit fall from your lips and down your chin.

It’s so fucking messy and dirty and it makes your head spin with shame and arousal.

Your whole face is wet with a mixture of spit and tears and precum and you find yourself wanting and needing more of it.

“You look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, this is exactly what you were born for,” he groans, pushing his trembling hips upwards and forcing another choking sound out of you, at which he utters out a few curses.

“I’ll double the money I was gonna give you if you bend over the desk and let me fuck you raw in the pussy, what do you say? Want a new dress? Some fucking new shoes?” he asks, still rutting his hips against your face and forcing you to swallow his whole cock down your aching throat.

You should probably refuse. Sucking Seonghwa's cock is one thing, but this? This would mean going way beyond, and the thought sends your mind into complete turmoil.

He seems to have little patience, and that's why he roughly grabs you by the hair and pulls his hard cock out of your mouth, leaving you empty and gasping.

"So? I don't have all day, Y/n," he asks, running his own hand along his cock, wet and slick thanks to your saliva that’s now coating it and slapping you in the face with the red tip, making you hiss at the impact.

“I want- I want three times the money for that,” you say, challenging him to deny your request, to say no and refuse.

He doesn’t.

“Let’s do four, since I also want to play with your asshole,” he smiles, bending over towards you and patting at your cheek like one would do with a puppy.

You gasp and try to find something to snarl back at him, but nothing comes out of your mouth, nothing but a little whimper that only serves to make him feel even more powerful.

Seonghwa stands up, and you notice how he is more or less dressed: his pants fallen to his ankles along with his boxers, the jacket resting on the back of the chair, the expensive white shirt completely open, showing off his sculpted chest and the magnificence of his body, covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Now that he is standing, Seonghwa looms even more over you, making your breath catch and your poor heart beat even faster.

Seonghwa grabs you by the hair, and the sudden movement forces you to stand up and follow his will.

"You're too dressed, what kind of slut are you?" he asks, grabbing the fabric of your blouse and pulling it slightly. In response, you bite your lip and decide to make amends, quickly unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall softly to the ground.

You're not wearing a bra, you never do.

The air hitting your nipples only makes them more turgid, and your skin is crossed by countless shivers.

He gasps at the sight of your exposed skin, and it makes you feel so good, to be looked at with such want, with pure and utter hunger and desire.

Seeing Seonghwa burning with the desire to possess you gives you a courage that you probably wouldn't have otherwise, so you push yourself further, unbuttoning your skirt and letting it fall forgotten at your feet.

Black lace panties adorn your body, and you feel the wet and soaked fabric rubbing against your most sensitive spot.

You are left only with the soft white knee-high socks and your shiny black loafers, standing in front of one of the richest and most powerful men in Korea.

“That’s more like it,” he chuckles, licking his lips and looking at you from head to toe, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re so hot, Y/n. You made the right choice, coming here. This little body of yours was made to be fucked, and what better way to earn money than spread your legs and let me do just that, huh?” he murmurs, as one of his hands goes down to his cock. He strokes himself as he watches you, and it makes your skin burn, to be looked at in such a dirty, naughty manner.

His tie is still around your neck, the only garment covering you along with your panties and knee-high socks.

The black fabric is in perfect contrast with your skin, and even though the tie is very light, it feels immensely heavy where it rests.

"Fuck me," you whisper to Seonghwa, because you too are starting to feel extremely horny and in need of attention.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, and his hand collides with your cheek, making you turn your face to the side.

The blow wasn't overly strong, but still impactful. Enough to make you catch your breath for a second and to remind you who is in control here.

"Rude. Where are your manners?" Seonghwa asks, dangerously approaching you and grabbing your chin, squeezing the skin and forcing you to look at him.

"Please, I beg you, sir, fuck me," you whimper, now completely abandoned to him and totally under his control.

"Now, that's better," Seonghwa whispers, and shortly after he makes your lips collide in a quick and fierce kiss. He bites your lip, making you moan against his mouth, before pulling away from you.

"Good girl. You act all tough, but you just want someone to put you in your place, don't you? Want me to show you who’s in charge?"

His words are exactly what you were hoping for, and the wetness between your legs increasing only confirms thqt.

You nod. What would be the point in denying anything? Right. There’s no point, and you know it. He know is too, it’s pretty obvious. He’s always been able to read you, and this is the same. Years passed by, but deep down you guys still know each other.

Seonghwa, at your admission and your being so yielding, can only swell with pride and satisfaction.

He approaches you, and the world spins wildly: he grabs you by the hair, pulls you towards the desk, and forces you to bend over it, pushing your head against the polished and intensely scented mahogany of his desk.

You have your ass up, covered only by your panties.

You hear Seonghwa swear and soon one of his hands clashes with the sensitive skin of your butt, and he gives you a strong spank.

You flinch, gasp, and squirm, and he takes it as encouragement to hit you again: two, three, four times.

Now the mark of his hand lies on your skin, and you feel completely possessed and owned by Seonghwa.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about you over the years. How many times I've thought about hurting you, having you all to myself even just once," Seonghwa confesses, running his hands over your ass, caressing you heavily.

His words are intoxicating.

"I've thought about you too, I swear, Seonghwa. Sir. I shouldn't have, but I did. I-I never forgot about you," you whisper, instinctively moving your hips upwards, trying to keep his hands on you for as long as possible.

You're not lying, you really mean what you said. Seonghwa has always been a constant in your life, it's undeniable. Your biggest regret and remorse. Your biggest and burning desire.

"Shut up, Y/n," Seonghwa commands, and you feel him grab the expensive fabric of your panties. A few seconds later, a loud noise fills the room.

He's torn them off, reduced them to shreds.

Pieces of fabric fall to your feet and your wet pussy is now completely exposed to him.

You feel drops of pleasure escaping from your trembling pussy and wetting your thighs, and you try to relieve the looming pressure by rubbing your legs together, but Seonghwa stops you.

He first grabs your hips, then your ass.

Seonghwa spreads your cheeks open, and you hear the air move as he bends down and spits on you.

He fucking spits on you.

His saliva runs down from your ass and to your pussy, adding wetness and naughtiness to the mixture.

He’s not satisfied, so he spits again, this time closer to your asshole.

You feel his breath against your sensitive skin and you find yourself holding your breath.

“This little hole, fuck, I wish I could just fuck it,” he groans, knowing damn well that he can’t just do that.

“N-Next time…” you utter out, wiggling your hips to try and meet his touch.

“You plan on coming here to get fucked more? Are you that greedy, you little whore?” he asks, laughing a little as he leans over you to just go and bite the skin of your ass, still covered by his handprint.

“S-so greedy, sir. I’ll come back whenever you want, do whatever you want,” you confess with a shaking voice, making Seonghwa laugh at you for how pathetic you are.

“You really have no shame. What a fucking slut,” he adds, before actually going silent.

What you feel next makes your eyes roll back and your hands reach out to the end of the desk to grab the wood and gain some support out of it.

His wet tongue is sliding against your little hole, wetting it more and more and making it pulse with the need to be filled up.

It’s a foreign feeling, to have someone eat your ass out like this, but Seonghwa seems like a starved man as he holds your cheeks open and dives in, licking and kissing and spitting and making your whole world turn upside down.

“Tastes good,” he groans, breath heavy and voice full of lust.

He pushes the tip of his tongue inside of your ass, and it makes you see stars.

Seonghwa fucks you with it, again and again, making slurping sounds.

One of his hands slides down and you feel one of his long, slender fingers rub against your wet hole.

“Just a finger, what do you say?” he murmurs, asking you for permission.

A permission you can’t help but grant him, nodding and murmuring a “please” that you’re not even sure was audible enough.

Seonghwa wastes no time, and soon his thumb makes its way into your tight and warm hole.

The sensation is unparalleled: you feel completely filled.

It doesn't matter that it's just a finger, you feel like you could explode at any moment.

Your legs tremble uncontrollably, and loud moans escape from your lips.

Seonghwa also moans, as he fucks your asshole with his finger.

You are already lost in pleasure, and he has not even touched your pussy yet.

It makes you feel really dirty, really perverse.

You feel like an actual whore begging to be filled.

“So tight,” he comments, and you feel this cock being shoved against the back of your thighs, as he smears precum over your skin and rubs against your legs to get some relief to his aching dick.

“Please, I want your cock, sir. Fuck my pussy, please, please, H-Hwa…” you beg, trying to get him to finally push his dick inside of you, and you feel already close to the verge of tears with how desperate you are.

“Here it comes,” he murmurs, finally giving the both of you what you crave the most.

With your thumb still inside you, you feel Seonghwa moving behind you.

He grabs his cock at the base and brings the tip closer to you, rubbing it against the sensitive and wet skin of your pussy, against your lips, right between your juicy folds, and pushing against your swollen and red clitoris.

A moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself spreading your legs even wider and begging him to put his cock inside you once and for all.

Finally, Seonghwa rubs the swollen tip of his cock against your wet hole, teasing you for just a few seconds before pushing it inside your pussy.

In one hard thrust, Seonghwa buries his thick cock inside you, making you scream in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

You feel so full, with both of your holes filled by him, his cock pressing inside you and stretching you completely.

You don't even notice a drop of saliva escaping from your lips and running down your chin, and if you could see yourself, you too would think of yourself as a whore.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good,” groans Seonghwa, and you make the effort of turning your head to try and look at him as he fills you up.

His head is thrown back, his neck exposed and lucid with sweat, and he seems completely lost in pleasure as he starts to rut inside of your pussy, fucking you and making you his.

For the first moments, Seonghwa's thrusts are not calculated, but dictated by his need to feel something warm enveloping his cock.

He enjoys the moment and ignores your helpless body, seeking only his pleasure.

Seonghwa's cock slides easily into your body, your wet pussy emitting dirty and exciting sounds as it is filled by his cock.

You tremble under his thrusts, and soon Seonghwa accelerates the movements of his hips, sinking into you with more force and precision.

He fucks you like he would fuck a whore, pushing all the way into your pussy and moving his finger into your ass.

He is not completely satisfied, though.

That's why you see him bend over you, pushing his cock even deeper into your pussy. Seonghwa brings two fingers of the hand that is free to your lips, and pushes them into your mouth, filling you even there.

"Christ," he gasps, starting to move the fingers he pushed into your mouth.

"Look at yourself, Y/n. You have all your holes filled by me, you're getting fucked in each of these tight little holes for money," Seonghwa grunts, and as you feel the saliva escaping from your lips, you see his eyes getting darker, more intense.

He moans and gasps, fucking you with all the strength and passion he has in his body, moving his fingers inside you and fucking you without the slightest mercy.

“Make it worth it, clench this pussy on me, huh?” he moans, despite the fact that your pussy already is clenching and hugging his cock as tightly as humanly possible.

You feel every movement of his inside you. Your skin and his rubbing together, his cock caressing the most intimate and deepest parts of you, sending electric shocks to run through every inch of your body and his as well.

Seonghwa's legs tremble as he sinks into you, fucking your mouth with his fingers and forcing you to choke on them, making you cough and then making your holes contract around him consequently. The rough and forceful way in which he is fucking you forces your body to move against the desk, and your wet and needy clitoris rubs against the cold and shiny wood of the desk.

Your nipples in contact with the mahogany stimulate you in the most delicious way possible, and you are completely intoxicated by the pleasure that grows rapidly inside you.

Your orgasm is getting closer and closer, and the feeling of being completely at the mercy of his desires only increases the strength of your pleasure.

Seonghwa towers over you, filling you everywhere, and could do anything to you: you wouldn't object, you wouldn't refuse anything. You would do anything for him. Anything he asked for and more.

Everything.

Not for the money, for him.

You don't tell him, that's for sure. But you think it.

Seonghwa is the only thing on your mind, not your rent to pay or your empty pockets.

Only: Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Seonghwa.

“Yeah, say my name. Fucking scream it,” he groans after he notices how you’re chanting his name in pleasure.

He takes his fingers off your mouth, giving you all the freedom to moan his name.

He forces you to scream, fucking you more harshly, a hand grabbing your hair and pulling at it enough for you to arise from the desk and for you spine to bend and for him to reach you and kiss your neck.

The position you’re in isn’t the most comfortable, but it sure as hell is exiting.

Seonghwa kisses your neck and bites at it, sucking the sensitive skin long enough to leave a plethora of marks behind.

Tomorrow you’ll be covered in his marks, you’ll look debouched and devastated and his.

His thumb leaves your ass empty and gaping, and now he’s completely focused on fucking your pretty aching pussy.

“Mine, Y/n. From now on you’re mine. You’ll get everything you want, but you have to be mine. My slut, my little cum dump,” he groans, licking all over your neck and sucking your ear lob in his mouth as he moans into your ear.

“Yes! Yes! M’yours, I-I’ll let you do anything, a-anything,” you moan, feeling floaty and lost, shaking and pushing your hips backwards to meet his trusts.

“I’m close, so close,” you confess, hiccuping between your helpless moans.

Seonghwa growls, and he fucks into you one last time before taking his cock out of your pussy and taking a step back.

You whine and complain, begging him to put it back in, to just do something.

“I want to see your face when you cum. I want to look into your eyes as I cream that pussy,” he explains, grabbing you by the hips and manhandling you in the position he prefers.

You’re sitting on the desk, you legs spread open and you pussy glistening with a mixture of your juices and his, all puffy and needy as your hole clenches around nothing.

“Ask me for it. Beg for my cock,” he says, voice mean as he touches his cock and teases his balls.

You have no dignity left at this point, so you don’t hesitate and do just as he asked you to.

“Please, sir, I need it. My pussy needs it, please, please,” you cry out, tears actually falling from your pretty eyes as you decide to tease him and tempt him a little bit.

One of your hands slides down your body, and you rub at one of your nipples, pinching it and feeling the most delicious pain ever.

With the other hand you go down to rub fervently at your needy little clit, circling around it and playing with the most sensitive part yourself.

“Please? Pretty please? Give it to me, Hwa, I beg you, sir, fuck me,” you continue, hand trailing down your pussy as you spread your own folds for him, exposing yourself like never before.

Wet juices fall from your pussy and are close to pool on his desk, and the sight of it is completely nasty.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch what’s mine,” he growls, getting closer to you and slapping your own hands away from your own body.

He directs his cock to your pleading pussy and pushes back in, spreading you open once again.

The new angle touches the right spots, reaches exactly where you were craving his cock to hit, and your eyes roll back in pleasure.

One of his hands reaches your throat, and he just keeps it there. An heavy weight against your neck, the promise of the most beautiful threat.

Seonghwa looks at you with something hidden in his eyes, and a wicked smile shows on your face.

“Choke me,” you dare him, biting at your lower lip as moans force themselves out of your mouth.

“You fucking brat,” moans Seonghwa, and the hand around your throat tightens, and tightens, and tightens.

The sensation of air and oxygen being denied to you is exhilarating, it's wonderful. Seonghwa even controls this: he decides whether to let you breathe or not. The thought makes your head spin and only increases the pleasure that floods your body.

Seonghwa's hand tightens again and again around your neck, choking you while looking into your eyes, dominating your body and soul.

“C-Close,” you whisper with the little air you have left, legs shaking around his waist as you sense pleasure building up inside your belly.

“Cum. Cum on my cock, you pathetic little thing,” orders Seonghwa and finally, he decides to grant you some mercy: his thumb comes down between your spread legs, and he starts to rub at you clit with precise movements, making you cry out loud and sound.

“Fuck! More, more, harder!” You shout, and Seonghwa lets go of his hold around your neck to grab your hip and use it as leverage to fuck more harshly inside your cunt.

His cock slides inside you with extreme ease, and his movements are precise and determined, and the tip of his cock rubs against all the right spots, making you breathless from how much it makes you enjoy.

Your hands reach his shoulders, and you cling to him tightly, scratching them from under his shirt and pushing it away, uncovering his back and scratching his skin.

Seonghwa doesn't seem to mind, on the contrary as your nails dig into his skin he only moans more, only rubs his fingers more decisively against your clitoris.

Seeing him so lost in pleasure and so deeply aroused is exactly the push you needed to finally succumb to your own orgasm.

The force with which you come is devastating: your legs tremble with strength, your breath breaks in your throat and the gasps and moans that escape from your lips are filled with desperation and pure pleasure. Your pussy contracts and tightens around Seonghwa's hard cock, as if wanting to keep it inside forever. Your clitoris pulses and sends electricity throughout your body.

Your turgid nipples brush against Seonghwa's chest as you hold him close and tight to you.

But what surprises both of you even more is another thing: the explosive way in which your orgasm overwhelmed you, making you squirt hot and juicy liquid around his cock, along both of your thighs. It seems to never end, and you surrender to pleasure as you squirt again and again against him, squeezing his cock and massaging it with your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re a slut, you’re a fucking slut, you just squirted all over my cock,” he groans, fucking into you as he forces you to give him even more of your precious juices.

His hand, the one that was rubbing at your clit, is covered in it, all moist and shiny and wet.

He brings it to his lips, sucks his own fingers and tastes you, your eyes spread open as you watch him savor your squirt.

“So fucking good,” he moans, before reaching down to get more of it, rubbing his hand against your folds and making you cry in overstimulation.

“Taste yourself,” he orders, before smearing your own juices against your lips, making you lick them clean as he watches.

“Want your cum. My pussy- it’s so empty, please, please, fill me up, cum in me,” you beg, tears falling from you eyes as your body begs for some mercy, begs to be filled, begs to be owned.

You lose control of it, and just slump on the desk, back hitting the wood and legs spreading even further.

“Take it, fuck! Take my cum, take it all in you pussy, here it fucking comes, ‘s all yours,” he moans, starting to slur his words as he shoves his dick inside of your abused cunt without a care in the world, the slide made even easier thanks to your powerful orgasm.

You feel it clearly: Seonghwa's hands run up your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them tightly.

The thrusts into your pussy become more erratic, stronger, more unrestrained.

Seonghwa's eyes become burning, shining with pleasure.

His moans become lower, deeper, strong enough to make your heart race, and you feel him bury himself one last time in your wet pussy, all the way in.

You feel him fill you with hot cum, squirting his thick and warm liquid inside you, flooding your wet and trembling pussy, abused to exhaustion.

You feel full to the brim, completely filled with his cum.

Seonghwa trembles, leans forward and kisses your breasts, while his hips make small instinctive movements, and he tries to push even deeper inside you, trying to bury his own cum deep in your pussy as far as humanly possible.

You gently pet his hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

He just lays there for a while, keeping his cock inside of you to plug his cum inside your cunt.

“So full,” you whisper, clenching your pussy around him and enjoying the feeling of being so utterly used.

You both enjoy these moments of quietness, both still shaken and exhausted, taken by waves of pleasure and with labored breath.

You never would have imagined that this day would have gone this way, but honestly you wouldn't change a thing, and you don't care if this truly makes you a whore.

The only thing you care about is having had Seonghwa in such a way, being possessed by him like this and getting exactly what you needed, what you wanted.

After a few endless minutes, Seonghwa leaves a gentle bite on your breast: this time it doesn't hurt at all. It's somehow delicate.

You still flinch when he does it, and you hold back a smile. He pulls away from you, sits up.

You don't dare to imagine what condition you're in, but the way he looks at you makes you understand that it must be quite a sight.

Seonghwa pulls his cock out of your pussy, and you groan in dissent, feeling suddenly empty and sad, not wanting his cum to come out of your pussy. You want to keep it inside you as long as possible.

Seonghwa doesn't speak as he gets dressed.

He puts on his boxers and pants, buttons up his shirt. Adjusts his cuffs, his collar.

He does all this without ever taking his eyes off your body.

When you regain some strength, you decide to get off the desk, and you have to hold onto it to avoid falling.

Your panties are torn, so you can't put them back on.

You just slip on your skirt and blouse, and feel a drop of Seonghwa's cum escape from your pussy and run down your flushed thighs.

When you glance at him, you see him fumble with his wallet.

Realization of what’s going to happen sinks in, and you feel your cheeks turn a crimson red, and shame overtakes your body and overwhelms you completely.

“This should be enough for today,” Seonghwa says, his eyes looking dark and somewhat empty.

He hands you over a bunch of bills, and you spread your eyes as you take in the actual amount of money he just handed you.

That’s more than a month of your usual income.

You just made it in a couple of hours.

“I- T-thank you,” you mutter out, at a loss of words.

Seonghwa snickers, and watches cautiously as you take the money from him with shaking hands, face full of disbelief.

“Give your number to my secretary, Y/n. I’ll call you when your service will be needed. Be ready to come to work at any time, got it? Whenever I need a bucket to cum into, whenever I need to empty my balls, you drop everything and come to me to take my dick, no objections, no buts. We have a deal, right?”

Seonghwa's words are cruel, raw. But you didn't expect anything different, you knew well what you were getting into.

And you accepted to offer yourself to him with that awareness.

So, even though you feel humiliated, mocked, used, you nod. Grabbing your purse from the floor and carefully putting the banknotes inside, you notice that Seonghwa doesn't fail to observe your legs in the meantime.

"I'll be the best whore you've ever had," you confirm, forcing yourself to abandon lucidity and pride, clutching your purse as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Seonghwa sits at the desk, arranging the papers that you moved with your body and bends slightly to smell the scent of your fluids that have soaked into the wood.

"You can go. Oh, and don't clean your thighs. You have to go home with my cum dripping from your pussy, because if you still have a place to sleep at it's thanks to that cum, and I want anyone who looks at you enough to see it: do you understand?"

You swallow loudly, but you dare not argue.

You blink and try to maintain at least a hint of control, moving your legs slightly as you feel liquid coming out of your body.

"Yes, sir," you reply, bowing slightly in farewell.

Seonghwa seems to have returned to what he was when you first entered the room, but that doesn't surprise you at all.

However, you notice him grabbing the torn edges of your panties from the floor and tucking them into the pocket of his expensive pants.

He dismisses you immediately with a wave of his hand, and you gather your strength and leave the room: destroyed, exposed, without panties and with the purse full of money.

When you leave the room, there is only his secretary, the girl who escorted you to the door.

You have no doubt that she heard everything, but she smiles just as she did when you entered a few hours earlier.

You leave her your phone number, she writes it down in her agenda with precise professionalism.

You don't miss the quick glance she gives to your legs.

You don't cover yourself, you do as Seonghwa ordered you to.

You obey.

You smile, say goodbye to the secretary.

You enter the elevator, the doors close, and for the first time you look at yourself in the mirror.

You are not the same person as you were this morning.

You fix your makeup as quickly as possible and smile.

You leave.

It takes no more than two days for your phone to ring, and for it to be an unknown number.

Time to work.

[cantwritethetword]

(2024) TickleTober Day 1: Harvest - Going against the Grain

Fic Descript - Bruce agrees to help out on the Kent farm and, after an off-handed comment from Clark, he decides to see how ticklish superman actually is.

~A/N  - Welcome to ticklecrowber2024!!!! (forgive the corny title hehehehehe)

We're starting off this month with a super cute superbat fic requested by an anon. While writing it I'm realising this is gonna be a pre-relationship romantic fic, so hopefully that floats your boat.

Like I mentioned on a post ages ago, I'm not aiming to write full fics for all the prompts this year to hopefully avoid burnout so I'm going into this aiming for a few hundred words - we'll see how that goes.

Hope you like it!

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

TickleTober Masterpost

One of the (few) things Bruce hated about being in love with someone was the way it made him do things.

And not in a suggestive or psychological way, literally he felt compelled to gain some sort of relationship 'brownie points' to subtly prove his worth as a potential partner.

Which was how he had ended up here, about to knock on the door of Clark's farm home.

When superman mentioned needing to do some hard labour around the fields up in Kansas, Bruce found himself offering to help before he could even blink. It wasn't until Clark enthusiastically accepted that the batman fully realised what he had gotten himself into.

Mixing their work and personal lives? At Clark's house no less? Doing something that probably was effortless for Clark, but would be a significant physical strain for Bruce? What was he thinking?! He'll look like a fool...

But, as much as his brain loved to insist on how much of a bad idea this was, Bruce had resisted the temptation to cancel.

And so, he now found himself raising his fist and tapping the wooden door-frame.

"Bruce!" Clark grinned, opening the door fully.

The man was dressed so stereotypically farm-y, Bruce thought to himself. Brown leather boots half-covered by a pair of old denim jeans, topped with a plain white tee and - god he looked good in that red flannel...

"-are you... did you want to come in?" Clark chuckled.

Shit, had Clark invited him in already? Was he that distracted by the superhero in front of him that he fully disregarded any input other than the sight- wait it's happening again-

"Yes!" Bruce blurted out, interrupting his own thoughts. "Sorry, yes. Thanks."

Ugh love made him a mess.

As Clark narrated and explained his way through his humble abode, Bruce couldn't help but get stuck in his own head - again. He barely registered that they had left the house and were now walking through the wheat fields. He knew Clark was giving some really important information as to what exactly they needed to do and where they would need to do it, but it was almost as if his brain was more focused on the sound of Clark's voice than what it was actually saying.

Until Clark giggled.

Like a gunshot, Bruce locked onto the sound with unbridled curiosity. What had caused it? Would it happen again? Whatever it was clearly didn't phase Clark, as he was back to talking about whatever farmyard jargon that was interrupted earlier.

A few more moments passed, and Bruce had never been more focused on Clark's surroundings. What could possibly have made superman laugh like that? And how common of an occurrence was it if Clark didn't even acknowledged it?

Thankfully, it happened again - with Bruce watching the whole thing.

As Clark walked, a few stray spikes of wheat brushed against his bare lower forearms (where he had rolled up the aforementioned flannel). His hand twitched reflexively, and he once again let out a soft giggle at the sensation.

And, once again. Bruce's mouth moved before his brain could catch up.

"What was that?"

Clark half-turned his torso to face Bruce. "Oh, it just tickles."

Bruce flushed at the casualness of Clark's response.

"It's actually one of my favourite parts of walking through here..." Clark continued with a genuine smile. "Something so small being so intense, makes me feel soft.... alive... human..."

Only Clark could make getting tickled by a plant sound so endearing, it was almost enough to make Bruce forget the huge tidbit of Clark lore that had just been revealed to him.

Superman's ticklish??

He didn't have much time to feel the full shock of that information, as Clark was already several paces ahead of him. Bruce half-skipped to catch up, and as he did, something in his mind convinced him to snap off a piece of wheat from beside him.

As they continued their walk towards the edge of the field where they were about to begin work, and Clark continued yapping, Bruce ran his fingers over the wheat piece in his hand. Was he seriously about to try to tickle superman? Would Clark be alright with it? Would he find it weird and repulsive and never speak to Bruce again cause how could he possibly think that was a normal thing to-

stop - Bruce interrupted himself.

no overthinking

Bruce took a breath, slightly sped up his footsteps to bring himself right behind Clark, and ran the wheat stalk along the side of Clark's neck.

Clark folded with a shriek and a giggle, his smile never fading as he gave Bruce a quizzical look.

That smile was all the invitation Batman needed.

With a smirk, Bruce tackled Clark into the wheat next to them and climbed on top of his chest before frantically twiddling the wheat stem against any potentially ticklish bare skin he could find. Clark's neck, ears, collarbones - even the small patch on his tummy that was exposed from his shirt riding up as they fell - nothing was safe.

And Clark's laughter was like birdsong - it was the most free, happy, genuine giggling Bruce had ever heard. So much so, the billionaire opted to snatch another piece of wheat to use in his free hand against Clark's forearms - which were currently doing fuck-all to fight against the tickly attacks (aside from clinging to and breaking some nearby wheat stems, but Bruce theorised that was mostly for Clark to resist fighting back... cute).

After a sufficient tickling, Bruce paused - mentally checking for any signs of annoyance on Clark's face and letting the man calm down for a few moments.

"Why'd you stop?" Clark asked breathily without missing a beat, and now looking slightly disappointed.

Once again caught aback by Clark's openness, Bruce stuttered and floundered for an answer. "I... I was just... I wanted to... make sure... you..."

Clark laughed. "No need to panic, it was just a question."

Bruce chuckled, still a little embarrassed.

"You always worry so much." Superman smiled, poking Bruce's neck with one of the wheat stalks he had snatched during the tickle-attack to emphasise his point.

Bruce squeaked (though he would later insist this wasn't true), his face flushing a deep red.

"Oh?" Clark grinned menacingly, rolling himself and Bruce over to flip their positions with clearly little-to-no effort. "The dark, scary batman is ticklish too?"

oh god

And, after being thoroughly tickled, Bruce spent the entire time they worked on the farm trying to convince himself the look on his own face before Clark tickled him definitely wasn't nervous excitement, and that he definitely wouldn't give anything do it all again.

Definitely not.

[yichens]

edits i made in 2024 ✨

thanks for tagging me krish @i-got-the-feels [x] ♥ am also trying to incorporate the tumblr top ten posts into this bc i don't want to do that as it is, so thank you for tagging me into that antania @riggerbison [x] and zey @fadelsburger [x] ♥

Post your most popular and/or favorite edit/gifset for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)

tagging: @forcebook @thamepo @chezlalune @ruanbaijie @luna-lina @srnileforme @wanderlust-in-my-soul no pressure and if you've done this or something like this already, please send it my way or tag me into the post's replies! i'd love to look at everybody's creations and give them some love :')

JANUARY: morkday + holding hands [x]

the most popular and tbh my personal favorite was this morkday edit i made based on a quote that is from the damn city of bones (2007) by cassandra clare. i didn't know that back when this quote punched me in the face and made me think about it for a couple of days but i honestly laughed when i finally googled it... worked out very well tho! i love hand symbolism, especially in last twilight, and the golden colors are lovely for them ♥ i also ended up loving the last image in this set even if i first struggled with the composition.

this was my number 1 post on my tumblr top ten.

(also gotta add that it still feels insane that last twilight was still going on in 2024... it feels like it was ages ago. i barely remember most of it anymore, probably bc of the heartbreak and trauma. i'm a changed person in january 2025)

rest of the months under the cut bc i ramble!

FEBRUARY: valentine's day vice versa rewatch [x]

my best decision for last year was to rewatch both my school president and vice versa during the time before valentine's day. it healed me, held me gently, filled me with love and warmth. am happy that the set i made after that to show love, once again, for the romance show and soulmates couple of all time was both my most popular and personal fave ♥ i love how the set turned out and how the colors work in this. i will forever be thankful to vice versa for its colors and overall brilliance.

this was my number 8 post on my tumblr top ten.

MARCH: 23.5 episode 3 [x]

it's a close call between several of my 23.5 episode edits but this happens to be the most popular one during this month. i never finished 23.5 which somehow saddens me, but towards the end, i just lost interest, and so this edit series was also left unfinished. i liked the concept tho and loved playing with the colors each week!

tribute to mork methas [x]

personal favorite cannot be any other edit than this bc i put all my heart into creating it. i am still so angry about what last twilight did to mork as a character; how all his trauma and pain was pushed aside, how the story never gave him the space and time he needed, how on top of all else they managed to butcher this amazing man. i don't even want to look at him in episode 12 bc i cannot recognize mork there. he is no that person, at least not to me. mork my beloved, i wish the writers didn't hate you so much </3

(btw i have this whole explanation/essay written under this post in my drafts. it's mostly me sharing in detail the thought process behind me making this edit and going through the several elements in it. if anyone is curious, i can post it, just holler haha)

APRIL: us / thamepo pilot crossover [x] [x]

the most popular edit for this month deserves to be the edit i made for the us pilot that was revealed during gmmtv 2024 part 2. i am still very excited to see the show itself and follow their filming journey occasionally on twt. i am just soooo ready to break my heart over the tragic lesbians woven together with strings of comfort, self-discovery, and heart ache.

this was my number 2 post on my tumblr top ten.

i picked the thamepo sister set as my personal fave bc i cannot separate these two. it was fun to connect them together and switch around the dialogues we hear in these pilots bc they just worked. they had very similar vibes and both talked about somewhat forbidden love. no wonder am currently so into thamepo (i hope it stays that way, am done with all the disappointment i've experienced with shows lately).

this was my number 4 post on my tumblr top ten.

MAY: 23.5 episode 9 [x]

the most popular set of the month. not much else to comment. i love the shot of ciize in this one, she's so cute :(

puentalay k-i-s-s-i-n-g [x]

my favorite for this month! a very impulsive edit that happened solely bc this ear worm of a song (that puen would def listen to) wouldn't leave me alone. it's silly, it's fun, it's cute, it's sexy, it's passionate. it's everything i could ask for! i honestly had a ton of fun with this edit despite having to edit a bazillion (26) separate images for this. the fact that those images are mostly of puentalay kisses makes it worth it.

JUNE: we are episode 12 [x] / 11 [x]

during summer, i was deep in my we are era. i honestly loved each set i made for the series bc for the longest time, i've wanted to make sets like this. i had my struggles with some of them but they all worked out in the end! episode 12 was the most popular one and episode 11 is just my personal favorite bc i love the purple + hints of yellow/golden -combo.

JULY: we are final episode [x]

to honor this show and all its relationships, from romantic to platonic, i decided on a rainbow set. it worked super well and i am happy it was so popular ^^ i miss this whole bunch and the amazing summer we had together. (sorry about the quality of this screenshot, the set is too long to fit it on my screen hhh)

this was my number 10 post on my tumblr top ten.

morkday + pvris songs [x]

probably my favorite set i've made this year overall. my whole year was defined by pvris's music (my spotify top artist) and it felt appropriate to link it together with morkday (and puentalay). i love the layout of this set, the colors, the noise. getting into the lyrics and choosing fitting parts for each image was the best part. my favorite image in the set is the last one that i started from while creating this set. i love the background image for that so much. another one i like is the green one for anywhere but here, bc of the image itself but also bc of the song and its message.

AUGUST: we are couples [x]

due to traveling around a lot in august and being exhausted from that, i didn't create much. but i am extremely happy with this set that is both the most popular and my personal favorite! everything about this one just worked out. i feel like it really summarizes all of these couples and shows their different sides.

as a fun fact, i have to say that i never put too much thought into choosing the animals for each couple, other than picking the bird for chainpun (for obvious reasons). cat for phumpeem came through peem more than phum who is very dog coded to me. instead, dog (or wolf?) ended up with tanfang bc of tan's puppy-like nature. qtoey getting the bunny feels like a stroke of genius given to me during the making of this set bc looking at it now, it's perfect. they have that sweetness and energy in them i connect with rabbits.

SEPTEMBER: sanvee + moon phases [x]

ok i might have lied in the july part bc this might be my overall favorite edit i made in 2024. creating it was a battle tho, and i felt like screaming for the best part of the process bc nothing felt like it was working out and i had a ton of problems while figuring out the aesthetic and the typo and the texts. but it all came together better than i ever expected and i just love this set now. i was happy to see ppl liked this too, so this is the most popular edit of this month.

(oab)plawan + hurt by sleeping at last [x]

it's hard to pick a favorite for this month – despite the sanvee edit already being my obvious FavoriteTM – bc i also love my set for miss mhon (day's mother) [x] that let me went my frustration towards her and my puen x phum parallels set [x] that makes me feel wrong in the head. but i loved this love doesn't have long beans a crazy amount compared to how short and silly that show was. there's just something about oab and plawan - about sailub and pon. they dragged me deep into places with this show and this edit is my ode to that. it was fun to make in its simplicity, i love the colors in it, and pon as plawan is just too pretty (especially when he cries).

OCTOBER: pluto episode 1 [x]

considering how popular pluto has been and how desperate we all are for gls, am not surprised this set is the most popular one for this month. tbh all my pluto edits have been doing quite well in my standards. i love making these so am just happy you guys like looking at them ♥

pit babe pairs + cartomancy [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

never thought 2024 had a sudden pit babe obsession in its sleeve for me but i decided to embrace it. they've talked that the second season would start airing in april, after boys' journey s2 has ended most likely, and i am so very normal about all thi. i've fallen in love with all these boys, both the characters (more than i already was) and the actors, and this edit series only made everything worse. i haven't spent this much time researching things for an edit in a while and i just loved all the analysis i got to do. the process had its ups and downs but overall, i have to say i had a blast.

(picture chosen purely bc i vibed with this kim picture today, tho the kentakim edit might also be my favorite in the set bc the yellow is so good)

NOVEMBER: pluto episode 4 [x]

absolutely deserves to be the most popular set of this month! it's also my personal favorite out of all the edits i've made for pluto. the colors for this one just worked super well and the scenes are perfect, too. let's see how the series ends in two days, i hope i manage to find some fitting colors for the last episode, too :'D

this was my number 6 post on my tumblr top ten.

DECEMBER: yuanyi + you can love him, but you can't keep him [x]

the most popular set and also my favorite of this month, all bc i've gone down the rabbit hole with fangs of fortune. i spent an embarrassing amount of time making this set with all its details; starting from screenshotting the whole damn show and then picking the pictures for this edit from the over 400 images i got, to drawing the golden lines by myself on my drawing tablet so i got them just like i wanted. i shall be making so many more edits for this show, be warned.

this was my number 7 post on my tumblr top ten.

top 10 posts of 2024 then are:

morkday + hands (381 notes)

us pilot (295 notes)

last twilight episode 11 (285 notes)

thamepo pilot (283 notes)

jimmysea for starry magazine (271 notes)

pluto episode 4 (252 notes)

yuanyi + you can love him (231 notes)

vice versa rewatch 2024 (222 notes)

last twilight episode 10 (211 notes)

we are final episode (207 notes)

(you can check your top ten posts here)

it was fun to look back into my year in edits like this and see how i've gone through so many phases in 12 months. i cannot even recognize the person i was in around, let's say, last february. or during summer. it's insane how the night changes or however that thing goes.

thank you if you read this far, and if you've liked my creations or left nice tags under them, i thank you even more! it's an honor to be creating to everybody here and i am grateful that others keep enabling me even when i usually create for myself and maybe two other ppl. it is very important to me tho that i get to be part of this amazing community and don't need to just yell into the void by myself ♥

[jazeswhbhaven]

An Unsightly Guy | React | Spoilers

GIVE IT UP FOR DAY SIX

So for today's dose of Sitri and Amy shenanigan's I have like two huge things to talk about here and I'm wondering what it means and if it will ever get addressed which I don't think it will given how this always seems to happen....

But let's get to it...

So Sitri has healed for the most part and was told some pretty bad news. I'd like to know who this subordinate is, I'm sure it's some NPC though that we probably won't ever interact with but I'm nosey lol

Ooooo Selaphiel mention, I know he be causin' problems because he looks like he would...if anyone needs a reminder of who that is btw

Selaphiel for your viewing pleasure. Though I'm sure we won't get to see him in this event, it sounds like he did his thing and left.

Sitri though is really upset by this news, he feels it was his fault that he wasn't strong enough and would have been able to help if he wasn't injured so badly...

Her? Her?

I have a thousand questions.

My first thought is, maybe his subordinate is a lady devil, which I don't think Gehenna nor hell is discriminatory when it comes to those being in the armies against angels.

But let's say it's not the subordinate??? But who is hell is he referring to??

HOLD AWN

He slapped himself to snap himself out of his anger, the subordinate here asks if he's okay and he responds with this??? Saying it's a useless thing for him to be upset about???????

W H O I S S H E SI T R I

Because I know he's not talking about MC/Us as we haven't met yet. He can't really mean Lilith or Solomon...I don't think he's met him yet and Lilith was doing her own thing.

I'd like to think this was either a close friend or a "sister". Clearly this is someone who works with him and is under his command but what happened long ago? WHO HURT YOU SITRI?

Anyways we continue....

So we're trecking or more so fucking running in the forest with Sitri and his company to find his subordinates and at first he didn't hear anything, and suddenly a bunch of heart beats all at once, it appears that his comrades are alive!

And it's confirmed that they are, badly bruised and torn up but they are alive none the less. So it appears that as I suspected, no Selaphiel or grand "GOTCHA" moment from the angels, they did what they did and left.

But...

Ah so that's who saved them! Here comes Amy and his crew to help out. It sounds like that mishap really got to him and he decided to be better and be proactive.

Lol even with his comrades alive and well Sitri is still on that petty energy. Which I mean...since he just healed and all it's probably fresh on his mind every time he's near or even hears Amy's name.

Guy is stuck under some debris though lol and I think it's cute that his was the first heartbeat he heard despite being his number one hater. Like come on you two...be foreal lol

And that was the end of today though...noting substantial. What I love and hate about the day by day event format is that some of the parts are really slow and boring but at the same time well it's something to look forward to each day instead of finishing out the event and being bored for the entire month or two weeks it's open for.

But my big things for today on this part was

-who the frick frack is Sitri referring to when he said "her"

-what happened long ago that made him so out of his mind and depressed??? did it involve whoever it is he's speaking of?

UGH I know they won't go over this because it's not the focus but don't give me breadcrumbs and not expect to want the entire loaf omg

[illusivesoul]

Why Rendon Howe is evil

This is a little theory thats been going around in my head for several days.

Rendon Howe. Evil personified. Probably one of the most despicable and hated characters in the Dragon Age series. One of the characters thats most easily defined as being just plain bad and evil, with good reason. Even in the game itself no one likes him (with 1 exception that I'll mention later in this post)

In the game, we really aren't given many reasons as to why he is the way he is and why he does the thing he does beyond saying he's evil, power hungry, and like he himself says as he dies, "I deserved more!" But recently I started to become curious about him to try to find out what had made him become like this, cause I prefer villains to have some complexity that goes beyond just "He's evil just because".

Rest of the analysis under the cut.

.

My main theory of why I think Rendon became "evil" is cause he may have suffered brain damage due to his injuries while fighting against Orlais with Maric and his rebels. My first thought for this came cause historically, Henry the 8th of England suffered several brain injuries during sporting events, and its believed that his injuries led to him having a severe personality change, which led to him become more radical, tyrannical and murderous.

After the death of his father and the Howe family joining the rebellion, Rendon joined Maric's forces and became close friends with Bryce Cousland, future Teyrn of Highever, and Leonas Bryland, future Arl of South Reach. The 3 of them fought together in the Battle of White River, which was the worse defeat the rebels suffered in the war against Orlais, and only 50 of the initial thousand soldier strong fereldan army survived.

Rendon was very badly injured during the battle, and Bryce and Leonas had to dragged him away to safety as the rebel army was crushed by the orlesians. Bryce was injured in the arm while trying to save Rendon from a chevalier. They got Rendon to Redcliffe and stayed with him for a month while he recovered before leaving to rejoin Maric and the rest of the rebel forces. While Rendon recovered in Redcliffe, he was tended to by Leonas's sister, Eliane, until he eventually recovered months later. He eventually proposed to her and they got married.

And here is the first bit of evidence we get of Rendon's attitude and behaviour completely changing after that battle and his wounds. From the wiki: "Leonas had become concerned by the changes in his friend's behavior since the battle and attempted to prevent the marriage." And some other quotes from Leonas that we get to her in dao: "Rendon Howe was no friend of mine. The boy I knew... died at the Battle of White River" and "That he didn't die years ago is the only thing worth mourning here." Leonas cut all contact with Rendon after he told him that he was only marrying his sister for her dowry and connections.

This goes back to what I mentioned earlier about the one person that seemed to care for Rendon. That person is Bryce Cousland.

Bryce and Eleanor were the only people that attended Rendon and Eliane's wedding, and even though Rendon was treated as a pariah by almost everyone in fereldan nobility, Bryce still maintained a friendly relation with Rendon, and seemed to have an almost protective attitude towards him, which contrasts greatly with how Leonas feels about Rendon. And this is where I came up with another theory about why this is. I believe that Bryce feels personally responsible for the injuries and near death that Rendon suffered during the Battle of White River and feels that he is somehow obligated to look after him. I can only hc why these could be, but maybe Rendon got injured while protecting Bryce, or maybe Bryce's actions during the battle led to Rendon's injuries. Maybe that's why Bryce seems to have keep pushing for the friendship that he once had with him, even though he clearly no longer was the same person. Cause Bryce felt responsible for the way Rendon had turned out.

Its possible that Rendon was just always like this, and those months he spent recovering just made him become super resentful against everything and everyone, but I do believe that the near death injuries he suffered during that battle, including possible head injuries and brain trauma, led to his personality changing and to him becoming the sheer villain we see ingame.

And to finish, a bit of background as to why Rendon would have hated Bryce even despite of this, here's a bit of info about them and about the relation between Highever and Amaranthine.

Rendon's father, Tarleton, supported Orlais during their occupation of Ferelden, and was eventually hanged by the Couslands before the Howes officially joined the rebellion. Adding the fact that Highever was once part of Amaranthine before they rebelled to gain their independence and annexed a good part of southern Amaranthine after winning their independence war, it adds some context to how Rendon could have seen this part of his greater vengeance against the Couslands and Highever for killing his father and taking away land from Amaranthine.

TL,DR: Rendon Howe suffered grieveous injuries during the war against Orlais, including possible brain injuries which may have led to a complete personality shift and to him becoming the person that we see him being in the game.

[quillsareswords]

How about a Damian x reader where the reader is friends with Jon and even though she doesn’t like him, Damian gets jealous and it ends in him confessing. And maybe a kiss 🤔🤔🤔🤔

A/N: ...these were all supposed to be under like 400 words...I looked up six hours and 2,520 words later and here we are. anyway sry no kith bc I didn't feel like it 💅

WARNINGS: misunderstanding, language, argument, raised voices

MASTER LIST in BIO

   You're nicer to Jon than anybody else you work with, including him. You go out of your way to talk to Jon. You ask him if he wants anything from the vending machine. You laugh at his awful puns.

   He hates to say it irritates him, because Jon is a very kind person, and he deserves the same treatment. He deserves soft touch and secret jokes and a bright smile.

   He deserves you. Out of everyone in the room at one of these inane hero mixers, Jon deserves you most.

   Despite this, the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

(Nevermind that you pick him immediately for missions, or that you already know what he wants from the vending machine and you memorized how he takes his coffee, or that you're the only one who laughs when he cracks the darkest joke anyone in the room can stomach. That probably means nothing.)

   He plants himself in the farthest corner of the room and sulks. He catches your eyes a few too many times, so he looks anywhere else. At anyone else.

   He decided a few weeks ago that avoiding you would be for the best. Hopefully, his feelings for you would wither without the sunlight of your presence. Hopefully, the bright petals of his heart would lose some vibrance and stop distracting his brain.

   It's a ridiculous hope, really. It's been months since he realized these feelings, and he hasn't yet seen a day he wanted you any less. At this rate, he's positive he could lock himself away on the other side of the planet for a few years and still be able to pick your voice out of a crowd.

   He'd tried to show you. In his own, roundabout way. He'd let you catch him staring. He'd seek you out when he could. He'd try to brush his hand against yours when you walked together. He wrote embarrassing poetry and hid them among your things. He did things he had seen in movies where the guy always gets the girl, because he didn't know what else to do.

   He did everything he could do, except tell you to your face. He tried, once. He could bring himself to do it. He'll never admit fear, but he didn't like to think about what would happen if you didn't feel the same way.

    "What are you brooding about now?"

   He jerks, scowling already. "Nothing," he snaps. "I'm not brooding."

   He very intentionally doesn't look at you, leaning against the wall beside him, but he does catch your reaction. He doesn't have to see you to hear the pause in your breathing, the hesitation before you reply. He's surprised you. He's not normally so curt with you for no reason, and you both know that. If he focuses, he can feel the quick once-over you give him, as if you could find that reason somewhere on his person.

   "Drag of a party, isn't it?" you try again. "I tried to sneak you one of those little breadsticks at the snack bar, but I think Impulse would've bitten me."

   (He had seen you, actually. Superboy at your side, chattering about something he couldn't hear, you'd skulked around, waiting for an opening, but Impulse was prepared to die defending those breadsticks. He must have skipped breakfast.)

   He doesn't reply. He keeps his arms crossed, continues staring past the clusters of chattering superheroes, out the Watchtower windows. If this had been weeks ago, he would have brushed it off and told you that he'd fight for them himself if he got hungry.

   You're a strong person. You've drawn lines in the sand for yourself. If you don't like the way someone treats you, you'll avoid them as much as you possibly can. You won't stand around and take it. You told him that much to his face the first time you met him: be nice to be, I'll be nice to you; pull that attitude with me again and I'll let the next guy shoot you in the face. It's how you treat everyone. He respected you for it, which is how you wedged yourself into his good graces in the first place.

   Therefore, if he goes out of his way to upset you now, you'll avoid him too.

   There's that bitter taste again.

   "Is everything okay?" You lean forward, trying to get within his line of sight, or to get a better look at his face. "Seems like you're in a worse mood than usual."

   "It's no business of yours," he grunts. "Go find someone else to pester."

   At the very edge of his vision, your expression ripples. His resolve does, too. You take a moment before you speak again. "Did I piss you off?"

   No. You never piss me off. I'd rather talk to you for a day than anyone else for a lifetime. He swallows.

   "Listen, if you had a bad morning or something–"

   "I thought I told you to find anyone else to bother."

   Bother is a low blow and he knows it. You had a boyfriend last summer who'd called you that just before you broke it off with him. You confided just how much it stung to Damian after he caught you sniffling on a rooftop in Gotham.

   He thinks it might have been too far, but isn't that the point? To jab at you just enough that you abandon all efforts at a friendship with him?

   Your grip on his arm catches him off guard, and you take the opportunity to drag him to one of the doors at either end of the room.

   You shove him out into the empty hall and make sure the steel slab latches behind you. "What is your problem?" you demand, planting yourself between him and the door.

   "I don't know what you're talking about–"

  "Don't play stupid, I know you aren't." Your tone is metallic in his ears, cold and hard. "You're being a dick. I wanna know why."

   He is being a dick. "I am not."

   You stare at him. He meets it head on, and realizes that it's the first time in the entire conversation that he's looked at you.

   You're good at hiding things from people. You've got a knack for screaming internally and looking bored externally. It doesn't matter what the situation is, you always look like you've got it all under control.

   He can see in that one look that you definitely aren't. Your breath is quicker than normal, your eyes are fractions wider, your posture is off-center. Your expression is wide open, waiting to receive whatever excuse he lobbies at you. You're distraught about this.

   A realization lodges in his throat. Either you're so upset by him that you can't mask it, or you trust him enough that you aren't holding up that mask at all.

   He looks away. Shakes his head. "I don't have time for this."

   "Oh, what? Have a busy day of standing alone in a corner and staring off into the distance?" You cross your arms. "If you didn't feel like being pestered, why did you bother showing up?"

   It wasn't his choice, actually. He knew you'd be here. His father tricked him anyway. Told him it was, League business, won't take more than an hour. You wanted to see the Watchtower again anyway, right?

   You don't give him time to respond. "If you have a problem with me, say that. Don't talk to me like I'm some idiot who can't take a hint. Especially in front of a bunch of coworkers."

   "Fine; I have a problem."

"Great, fantastic! He does have a problem." with you." You throw your hands up like you've just discovered the cure to dementia. "What's the problem, Wayne?"

   He glares at you. You don't look so out of sorts now, so he holds it. "I'm sure you'd like to know."

   You set your hands on your hips. "Well I'd like to know if I can fix it."

   So would I. "You want to fix it?" He starts heatedly, scraping together some barbed speech about how you're too focused on what others think of you, but you beat him.

   "Yes!" Your expression opens again, like clouds parting for sunlight—except, instead of brightness, he only sees the near-desperate eyes of a woman trying to salvage a friendship she didn't even know was crumbling. "You're one of my best friends, Damian. I don't want to lose you over something stupid if I don't have to."

   One of my best friends. One of. Friends. He hangs on your every word, loses sleep over the slightest touch, forgets where he is when he looks into your eyes for too long—and he doesn't even rank at the top of your list. He's not your best friend or your boyfriend. He's one of a few.

   On any other day, he'd take a deep breath and remind himself that you don't owe him anything. It's his problem that he did the stupid thing and fell– caught feelings, not yours.

   But today? It sets him off.

   "I suppose it bothers you so much. Don't you have anywhere better to be? I'm sure Jon would appreciate your company far more than I could," he snarls.

   Any hurt in your eyes fizzles into confusion. "What? What are you–"

   "You're right, I'm not stupid. I'm not blind, either." His voice is rising, but he's still got enough sense to keep this as private as he can, surrounded by super-powers. "I see how you act with him. I know you love him."

   You reel. You can't help laughing, breathy and incredulous. "Love–? What in the fresh hell are you talking about?"

   "Don't try to deny it."

   "Uh, I am going to deny it because it isn't true."

   He steps forward, as if he has a chance at intimidating you into admission. "You're kinder to him than anyone else. You treat him like he hung the sun. You go looking for him first at every opportunity." He's gesturing with his hands, too. "You make it so obvious, I don't know how I'd didn't see it before. Maybe I am blind after all."

   "You're so wrong," tell him. You're uneasy again. Twisting away from him by fractions, inches. Just enough to be doing it subconsciously, like a guilty man in an interrogation room. You still don't back away from him, don't let him snatch the reins of the situation. All of this only fuels him more.

   "You aren't stupid either. I know that. You know that." He stops for a breath, just one, and you see just how hard he's breathing

   He's never been this agitated by something like this before. It's true, when he's pent up and angry about something he can't simply remedy, he goes looking for fights to pick and outlets to unleash upon. But he's never found that in you. His indirect anger has almost always spared you, a few sharp words aside.

   "I'm not saying that I do feel for Jon," you interrupt, "but if I did; why would it bother you this much?"

   He's never cared before. You know he hasn't—you've gone out of your way to make try to make him jealous once or twice, talking about boys you have liked or flirting with someone right in front of him, and it's never gotten you more than a raised eyebrow or an eye roll.

   Something intuitive, grown from too long spent at his side, flutters to life in your mind. An idea, a theory, a hope.

   For the first time since you met him, he stammers. He trips over his words once, twice, then promptly snaps his mouth shut. On the outside, his face pinches angrily, lips pressed together grimly. Inside, he screams into the void and scrambles for a handful of words he can stitch into a decent excuse. All the vocabulary of five different languages, half the vocabulary of four more, and all he can come up with are incoherent expletives.

   And like the kind, patient person you are—for him, at least—you wait for him. You stand there after he's run his stupid mouth and acted like some bratty elementary schooler, and you wait for him to figure out an explanation instead of turning away from him. He told you he didn't want to talk to you and instead of telling him to get over it or writing him off completely, you tried to fix it.

   It sucks all the fight right out of him.

   Finally, he says your name in a way that makes your lungs seize. "You have to know," he says quietly. "You must."

   You think you might. "Know what?"

   Five steps away from you feels too far, so he makes it two. Not enough to crowd you, not enough to hide. "You really don't have feelings for Jon?"

   You chuckle. "Jon's…nice. He's really nice, and he's a close friend, but…he's just not the guy for me," you admit. "And for the record, I definitely don't think he hung the sun."

   It earns you a little smile. Small victories, you suppose.

   You're still watching him expectantly. He could lie his way out of this. He could tell you that he thought Jon was cheating on you, frame it as though he was trying to save you from heartbreak. He could tell you a lot of things, frame himself in a lot of ways.

   But he doesn't want to do this again. You didn't have feelings for Jon, but you just as easily could have. You'll have other men groveling at your feet eventually. You'll choose one of them, eventually. He has a chance, right now.

   He takes a breath to steady himself. It's full of your favorite fragrance, and he finds that instead of making him any more nervous, it becomes a little easier to breathe.

   He thinks of all those terribly unrealistic movies his sisters and Dick watch. He thinks of making out in the rain and dramatic confessions and passionate kisses. He tries to imagine himself there instead. He tries to put together something that you'll remember forever, even if you turn him down.

   But he's standing here, looking at you, waiting for him like you always do.

   "I'm in love with you," he says. "I'm–...I love you."

   It's strangely freeing to say out loud. He anticipated anxiety. In every scenario that ran through his mind, he'd been terrified. In the worst cases, there had been tears or gunfire or both. He'd say it, in whatever way he could conjure up, and it would feel like he was stepping off a cliff.

   Now that he's here, and he's said it, you're smiling at him like you're welcoming him home.

   "Oh, Damian," you whisper, and your eyes are glittering like a reflection of a sunrise, and your palms are so warm on his shoulders. "I love you, too."

[iheartyouyou]

Kill Bill | Tate Langdon

Summary: Tate randomly breaks up with you, moving on with Violet. It sucks, because you’re a ghost too, stuck in the house forever with a broken heart. But luckily there is a way out. Or is there? (Loosely based on the song “Kill Bill” by SZA.)

Word count: 1.6k

Part two: here

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death & suic*de, not proofread and probably more (sorry!)

Author’s Note: I’m obsessed with SZA’s new album and I’ve been wanting to write for Tate for a while, and so what better way than to write some angst? Anyways, please leave feedback! <3

You frown as you stared at the new couple— Tate and Violet— from the window, holding hands as you heard their muffled laughter. Tate was holding a candy bucket, they just got back from trick-or-treating.

That was supposed to be your guys’ thing, not their thing. It was the one day you could leave this shit hole— Tate promised he would take you trick-or-treating after you confessed to him you’ve never been.

Tate broke up with you not too long ago after dating for 11 months and 13 days. You guys couldn’t even make it to your one year anniversary. You guys would’ve, if it wasn’t for him.

It started with him acting distant, making up excuses and running away from you. Then after two weeks of not seeing or hearing anything from him, he dumps you. He shrugged it off as if it were nothing, as if he didn’t convince you to take your own life and spend the rest of eternity with him.

And now he had a new girlfriend— Violet Harmon. Her family had moved in a little bit ago, Violet immediately catching Tate’s attention.

It’s funny how the same thing happened with you. You wondered if it was a endless cycle, you wondered if the same thing would happen to her.

You hadn’t officially met her yet— deciding to stay in the shadows, she seemed sweet, but you just couldn’t help but hate her.

The couple made their way inside the house, the steps becoming closer and closer. You froze, becoming unseen.

“You know what we should watch?” You heard him ask Violet, the both of them stepping into her room before closing the door.

You came closer to the door, placing your ear against it to hear their conversation.

“Tate, I’m gonna gain like 10 pounds if I eat all this.” Violet said, giggling.

“Well, if I eat this half you’ll only gain 5.” He offered, slight amusement in his voice. He leaned forward, capturing her lips.

You back away from the door, hearing all that smooching and how they were definitely making out made you sick to your stomach.

You run to the nearest bathroom, puking.

-

“My dad’s not here.” You heard a voice from behind you, startling you.

It wasn’t just a voice, it was her voice.

You hesitantly turn around, facing Violet. She looked at you expectantly, eyes squinted. You shrunk under her gaze, breaking eye contact.

“H-he’s not?” You asked.

“No. He’s not. I can leave a message for hi—“

“No! I mean— uhm— no. It’s okay, I’ll have my mom call him or something.” You say, finally looking up at her.

“Who let you in anyways.”

“Moi— the maid. Or housekeeper— whatever you call her. She let me in.” You spoke, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Oh.” She mumbled, looking around. You look away, trying to think of a way to get out of there. You could just simply disappear— you were a ghost— but you didn’t want to expose yourself.

You weren’t a patient of her Dad’s, but after snooping around you found out that Tate was. You didn’t think anyone was home, trying to take a peek at his file. Too bad little miss perfect caught you, huh?

“So, what are you seeing my dad for?” She asks, causing you to look back at her. You open your mouth, a response on the tip of your tongue before it dies away, the hickey on her neck becoming your new focus point. Your face falls.

She furrows her eyebrows, placing her hand on her hip. “Uhm… are yo—“

“Tate. He’s the one who gave you that hickey, right?” You blurt, your eyes flickering back to hers.

As if her eyebrows can furrow any further, they do, her hand quickly coming up to cover the hickey.

You scowl, her suddenly becoming the one who couldn’t keep eye contact. “H-how— wha—“

“Be careful around him, or you’re just gonna become one of his victims.” You snark, storming off before disappearing.

You didn’t mean to lash out, you just couldn’t help if. It wasn’t fair. How come he gets to move on? How come he gets to leave you in the dust? How come you’re stuck in this house for eternity, your heart shattering every time you saw or heard of him. You couldn’t even remember the last time he spared you a glance.

Fucking bastard.

And how badly you wanted to kill him and his new girlfriend. Too bad he’s already dead and if you kill her, you’ll be doing him a favor.

-

When you’re a ghost stuck in a house for eternity, there’s really nothing to do. You’ve read every single book in this house at least a hundred times, visited every part of this house at least a million times, and probably more.

Tate never let you talk to the other ghosts, mainly Chad and Patrick.

Since you’re a ghost stuck in a house for eternity, struggling to get over your ex boyfriend, you needed advice.

“Oh honey, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Chad announced, eyeing you up and down as you entered the room. Patrick turned, scoffing. “What you want?”

“I need…” You cringed at yourself, before shaking your head. “Never mind, sorry.” You spin around, getting ready to leave before they stopped you.

“Come on, we don’t bite. You obviously came here for something, your boyfriend trying to plot some revenge or someth—“ Chad started.

“No— we actually broke up. That’s what I came here for. He’s dating that uh, new girl.” You interrupt, head low.

They both stay silent, sharing a knowing look before staring back at you. “Violet? Jesus— she’s a pain in my ass. She’s so loud at night, I’m surprised her parents haven’t said anything. She sounds like a dying cat when she moans.” They both laugh.

You flinch, you’ve heard her moaning too. That’s why you stayed in the basement at night.

“Uhr— yeah. I know you guys don’t like Tat—“

“We don’t like both of them, hun.”

“Okay, both of them, but I need your guys’ help. Look, I know we may have had our differences and stuff… but I’m desperate.” You beg, looking between them.

You watch as Chad raises an eyebrow, Patrick pressing his lips inti a straight line before motioning for you to come over. “Fine, but you’re gonna owe us.”

-

You hum a soft tone, rubbing your eyes as you made your way down to the basement. You round the corner, eyes almost bulging out of your head as you spot the blond mop of curls by your makeshift bed.

“What are you doing?” You ask harshly, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes before staring at him.

“Have you been sleeping down here?” Tate asks softly, ignoring your question.

“What are you doing here?” You repeat yourself, taking a sharp inhale as he finally turned around.

“What are you doing with that gay couple? I told you to stay away from them Y/N, they’re not safe.” He says, taking a step towards you. You take one back, shaking your head.

“They’re nice actually. You know they have names, right? Chad and Patrick.” You snark, staring up at him.

“I don’t care. Stay away from them— Violet too. You spooked her.”

“‘Spooked her’? I was just telling her the truth.” You say.

He sighs, rubbing his temples. “Just— don’t ruin this for me. Kay?”

“What? I’m not gonna ruin your stupid fucking relationship, Tate. Go be happy with her, I don’t care. I’ll leave your girlfriend alone, okay? Now can you go? I’ve had a long night.” You sigh, giving up as your shoulders drop.

You push past him, making your way to your bed.

“Why are you so jealous? She makes m—“ He starts.

“I’m not jealous!” You shout, eyebrows furrowing. “You wanna know why I was talking to Chad and Patrick? Because we’re planning to dig up my bones and bury me in some graveyard. Just far away from you. So, now you and your girlfriend can be happy! I’ll most definitely leave the two of you alone.” You finally admit.

You almost wish you didn’t say that when you looked up, seeing the pained expression on his face. “Wha— how do you even know about that?!”

“Moira.” You mumble, shifting your weight onto one foot.

“Moira? God damnit— look, Y/N, you c-can’t leave. I won’t let you!” He announced sadly, eyes glistening in light from the window above.

You clench your fists, anger bubbling up inside you. “I’m stuck here for eternity! Tate— this is like hell for me! You have no right to choose this choice for me.”

“Hell? You think it’s hell here?” He practically whimpered, frowning.

You stay quiet for a few moments, sitting on the edge of your makeshift bed. “Yes. I’m leaving, wether you like or not. Can you leave me alone now?”

It feels like the wind just got knocked out of him, dropping to his knees as he wraps his arms tightly around your legs. “You can’t— please. I’m sorry, please don’t leave me. You’re a-all I have. I love you, I love you so much—“ He begged, tears flooding his cheeks as his grip on your legs got impossibly tighter.

“Please don’t leave me. If Violet’s the problem I can get rid of her! Her family too— I can get rid of anyone or anything that’s the problem, okay? If I’m problem I can leave you alone! You’ll never see me again— please, I promise, i p—“

“Go away, Tate.” You say softly, wiping your eyes before any tears could start. He stops, eyes widening as he looks up at you in tears. “NO! What? No! Please!”

You look away, not having the strength to look at him. “Go away.”

And he listened.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

All right, I did something. I did it a few days ago, and I've not posted about it yet because, to be honest, I thought I might change my mind. I purchased this thing about three minutes after I discovered it was on sale. I purchased it at 5 AM, while half asleep, and in that moment, I at least had the presence of mind to pay seven extra dollars for a refundable ticket, in case I come to my senses later.

However, it's been a few days, and I've not come to my senses. I don't think I'm going to. I'm sticking with this. Look what I purchased:

Here's some relevant information: The Bell House is a theatre in New York City. Google Maps says that the drive from my house to The Bell House in New York City takes seven hours and thirty minutes. However, I know from experience that it's actually longer than that. I know this from the experience of the only time I've been to NYC before, which was in May 2022, when I went there to watch Nish Kumar perform his previous stand-up show.

I was lucky, that time, that my brother happened to be house-sitting in NYC for a few months. I don't own a car, but because my brother was there, my dad said he was happy to take us down in his car, so he could see the city and visit my brother. My dad and I got to split the driving, and we got to sleep for free at the place where my brother was staying. We drove all day on Saturday, which took about 8.5 hours. Had dinner, then my dad and my brother and I all watched Nish Kumar, slept for about five hours in the apartment where my brother was, and drove 8.5 hours home the next day.

I hated every moment of that trip during which I was not actually in a room with Nish Kumar. I hated NYC - too many people, and I just disliked the atmosphere. Plus I had a massive fight with my brother right before the show, because I was annoyed that so few people on the NYC subway wore masks even though there was a huge surge in COVID rates there at the time (this was May 2022, when COVID was a bigger danger), and my brother said masks are for sheep, and we ended up yelling at each other on an NYC sidewalk and almost missed the show.

However, I fucking loved every single second of Nish Kumar's show. It is still one of my favourite stand-up shows I've ever seen, and I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to see it live. I consider the entire terrible trip worth it for that, even though I came out of it saying, "Wel, I've now been to New York City once, hated the place, and I never feel the desire to go back."

That's what I said at the time. But I didn't know, back in 2022, that Nish Kumar would be coming back two years later with an even better show. And I really think it is. In his 2024 show (Edinburgh 2024, touring in 2024-2025), Nish Don't Kill My Vibe, he manages to outdo the high bar that his 2022 show set. It's worth the trip again.

I have been lucky enough to hear the material from Nish Don't Kill My Vibe, probably about ten different times throughout the past year. I've heard it in various WIP stages, and then got to see it live twice when I visited the UK over the summer - once as a preview in London, and then the next week in Edinburgh. Does that mean that I definitely don't need to do a 17-hour round trip in one weekend just to see it again?

No! No no no no no it does not and I refuse to come to my senses about this! Sure, I've seen it before, but even in Edinburgh, it was still billed as a WIP. It's into the touring stages now, it's different! I've already seen a couple of people online, who've seen the show on tour, reference bits in it that I don't recognize. Which means there's new stuff! Nish Kumar is performing material that I've not heard before! I must hear it!

Obviously I'm aware that only a small percentage of the show will be any different from the stuff I've already heard. But 1) The stuff I've already heard was brilliant and I want to hear it again and I want to hear it live, and 2) I know I'm pretty much just paying to be in a room with Nish Kumar. But he's so cool. I would pay an inadvisable amount of money to be in a room with Nish Kumar.

So, I'm going to have to figure some stuff out. I still don't own a car, and my brother doesn't happen to be staying in NYC this time. I called my parents and asked them if I could request a really large favour - perhaps we could call it a Christmas present - where I take their car on an 8-ish-hour journey on a Saturday in March and then an 8-ish-hour journey back on the Sunday. Because I'd have to do it that way - the show is Saturday night, I work all day on Friday and Monday, and my job is one that has school holidays off, and their policy says that they do not give vacation days outside those holidays except in "very exceptional circumstances". I'm pretty sure those "very exceptional circumstances" are meant to be, like, a family member's funeral. Not "My second favourite comedian in the whole wide world is going to be on my side of the ocean for once, and I hear he might have, like, three minutes worth of material that I've not heard before!"

The other option would be to drive down Saturday, see the show, and then get in the car immediately and drive home all night on Sunday. This has the advantage of meaning I wouldn't need to pay for accommodation out there. It has the obvious disadvantage of, you know, ignoring my human body's basic physiological needs.

Anyway, I'll figure it out. I told myself when I bought the ticket that I could also use public transit, but since then, have actually looked that up, and learned that there is no bus that leaves later than the time my work on Friday finishes, and arrives in NYC before showtime on Saturday. So I'm now really counting on being able to borrow a car.

My parents were surprisingly receptive to the idea, when I asked about it. When I said I want to go to NYC, my mother joking asked "Is it to see Nish Kumar?", because that was the stupid reason I had last time. And I had to say... "Yes, yes it is. He's got another show." She said we'll figure it out and can probably make it work. My dad actually liked the city of NYC, and said he might even come down again just to see the city.

Anyway, that's what I'm doing with my life. That, and planning an even bigger trip to the UK next August, now that I have the whole summer off. Nine nights in Edinburgh, and before that, some time in London, and then trains through Wales and Ireland. I've already booked a couple of nights at an Air B&B in Galway. I'm going places in 2025. Literally, if not metaphorically. It'll be good.

[mochie85]

The Redwoods

Part 2 of my Wanderlust series.

One-shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: The first stop on your road trip through California to visit all the National Parks. And it's colder than you expected. Especially at night! Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Word Count: 773 (a drabble, really) Warnings: Fluff. Flirting. A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty's July Monthly Challenge. I picked prompt #9, Cuddling for Warmth.

Your teeth were rattling inside your mouth as you held your arms closer to you. The five layers of blankets and the two layers of hoodies and thermals couldn’t keep the cold from seeping through to you and settling into your bones.

It had been a week since graduation. It was already the beginning of June, but Summer comes late to California. The days were warm, and California nights can get extremely cold. Especially this far north and high in elevation.

“Nugget, if you don’t stop shaking, I’m going to assume you are not cut out for this and I’m gonna drive us both home. OW!” Bucky screamed as you kicked him underneath all the layers. You hated that nickname. It annoyed you so much when he reminded you of how short you were.

“Your feet are freezing, woman! Aren’t you wearing socks?” he scolded you.

“No!” you muffled, hiding underneath your wool scarf. Your toes went on the hunt, seeking his warm calf to seep all the heat from his body.

“Uh, uh. Nope! Stop! You are not-” he swatted your foot away. “You are not warming your icicle toes on me!” You giggled as he successfully kept you at bay on your side of the van.

The vintage Volkwagon Bus, that you managed to spruce up from the many ideas on your Pinterest boards, lacked insulation and calking. Bucky noted and whined as the two of you spent the last week sleeping in the back of the "ice cream truck," as Bucky had once called it.

“You’re lucky cuz Smokey decided to sleep next to you to keep you warm!” You said out loud.

“Ya, he sleeps next to me because he can’t get over how loud your teeth are rattling!” And as if he was agreeing, Smokey let out a small grunt growl.

“Traitor!” you sneered at your dog. Then you pouted, giving Bucky your saddest puppy eyes.

“Don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” you pouted some more.

“It’s not gonna work. Instead, what I’ll do- I’ll just drive us both home. Where we can sleep in our own beds. Watch Netflix on my flat screen instead of your iPad. And use indoor plumbing like a modern-day person would!”

Bucky was angry and you can tell. You didn’t think he would get so annoyed. Was that how he felt this whole time? It was only the first week of your two-month-long trip. Would he be like this for the rest of the time? Maybe he’ll give up and just leave you in the middle of the trip to go home.

You heard Bucky sigh and then groan in defeat. He watched you as you spiraled into your thoughts. Your face turned from a sad pout into a depressed frown, trying to mask the feelings you had inside.

The covers lifted, opening the small space in between you. “Get over here.” 

You squealed as you rolled your way into his side, your back to his chest. “What are you 10?” he laughed.

“A lady doesn’t scoot!”

“Ha! But nuggets roll,” he mocked. Your feet sought his bare legs in revenge as he hissed inwardly at the contact from your cold touch.

“Hey, be nice! Be a good girl for me! I’m letting you steal my warmth here!” he growled into your ear.

His phrase caught you off guard. The low gravelly tone tickled something in you. It traveled all the way down to your aching core. Aching and neglected. And soon you didn’t need his body heat anymore. You were making your own! From the sheer bewilderment, you found yourself in.

When was the last time I had sex? Too long ago. That’s probably why you’re feeling this way. You can’t start thinking this way about Bucky! He’s your best friend.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” He asked.

“Nothing. I’m just- I’m just trying to get cozy,” you said adjusting and wriggling your body to fit his. He grunted at your movement.

“The sooner you get comfy, the sooner we can all go to sleep!” he chided.

You finally relaxed in his embrace. You could feel the heat from his wide chest on your back keeping you warm and toasty. Soon, you found yourself drifting off to the sounds of his breathing.

You must’ve turned in your sleep. When you woke up that morning, the first thing you saw were Bucky’s sapphiric eyes, heavy with slumber, focused on your lips.

Just kiss me! 

Lord, You did not just think that! OK! First things, first. As soon as you get home from this trip. You are finding yourself a boyfriend.

If you can survive Bucky, that is.

⬅️Wanderlust | Lassen Volcanic Park (Coming Soon)➡️

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid

[writerofadream]

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Fifteen: Tip me over (Pour me out)

(This is what I'm reduced too since my netflix ain't working, we'll be back to our regular scheduled programing tmw, so have fun with this new years eve chapter, you both are fifteen)

Two years ago

It was supposed to be a simple job. No different from normal, Duncan would sing, and as people were distracted you'd pickpocket them... and too think it started off so fucking easy.

"Am I blue?" Duncan's raspy voice rang out through the audience quickly causing multiple women too swoon.

His hair was it's natural black, he wore a black dress shirt with a gold chain, and black pants.

You rolled your eyes but got too work your hands flickering through people's pockets with a practiced ease. You had done this too many times, way too many.

"Am I blue? Ain't these tears in these eyes tellin' you?" Duncan's body always swayed when he sang.

His voice had developed a New-Yorker accent which was the place you both had been in the past month.

You flirted easily with a few men (and a couple girls) who seemed to be a bit sober.

Since today was New Years Eve it was like the purge for you both. Cops let robbers do so much shit it was wild you weren't caught.

Duncan and you were currently in a run-down bar a few minutes pass Manhattan which meant it still got quite a few wealthy customers.

Wealthy customers who thought no one could ever pickpocket them.

Clealry, they hadn't met you yet.

"Am I blue? You'll be too, if your schemes like your dreams, done fell through." Duncan's voice was annoyingly good. If you had been focused on him you'd probably notice the way his eyes were directly on you.

"Was a time... I was her only one. Now I am, the sad and lonely one, oh yes I am." he hated how easily you could flirt, he never knew which emotion you had fabricated was real or fake.

He was a good liar, but you were the best.

Your hands stole a woman's pearl necklace even though you weren't even looking at her. It was almost like they had a mine of their own. Duncan had paid the bartender to look away as you did your job.

He saw something glint and your eye as he continued to sing, he saw a man covered in gold.

He had five golden rings, a gold chain around his neck, a wallet that seemed to be bursting with cash.

Duncan saw you struggle with your kleptomania for only a second because it had won. This would be your hardest job yet.

You waited until the man had gotten a few (*cough* a lot *cough*) of drinks in him before you made your move. You began flirting with the man, making him laugh and chuckle.

He patted his leg telling you to sit.

Duncan bit the inside of his cheek so hard blood flooded his mouth. As he finished the song he finally asked "Any requests before we go home for the night gals and guys?" He cheerfully winked at a girl sitting up front.

"Teenager in Love by Madison Beer." A drunk boy hiccuped with his hand held high.

Duncan had to stiffle a smile at the song you adored. "You make me feel like a teenager in love, you make me feel like a teenager in love." He began snapping in beat with the music around him.

He watched as your fingers slipped two of the rings off the man. "You call me baby, your in ripped jeans, and you just pulled up to a love song." Duncan sang as the bar began snapping with him.

He watched as the man's lips forced themselves onto yours and all you could do was smile and giggle forcing the blush onto your face. Duncan had no greater urge then to beat that man to the ground.

Duncan watched as you took one more ring, the wallet which you quickly replaced with a decoy, and the necklace.

"Beat up corvette, smelling of cigarettes." He sang his heart so very glad that you were almost done and you could both head back home.

God, nothing sounded better then curling up on the beat-up couch with you while you watched a movie off his phone.

You gave the man a kiss on the cheek, saying a goodbye and as you stood up he noticed your body shift and your eyes widened.

Duncan watched as you picked up a drink from a passing waiter and said the words that made his heart stop.

"Happy New Years, sweetheart." You giggled but he knew those words. The code words for 'GUN ON ME'

"Oh come on, beautiful can't you stay?" Duncan whined pausing the song. The bar atendees whined as well. They wanted more of the music, and you. "Dance and sing." One girl cheered.

The entire bar roared for you to join Duncan up there. 'Man behind me' you mouthed and Duncan realized that the man you had been flirting with had a gun trained on you by someone in the bar.

Duncan motioned for you to come up to the stage. You stepped up giggling even though your stomach was in knots.

Duncan told the band to continue playing as he resumed singing, only you to accompany him this time.

"Time keeps on slipping." Duncan twirled you outwards and then back into his arms, he knew what he had to do, keep you constantly moving so the gun couldn't get a clear shot.

"You make me feel like a teenager in love, you make me feel like I'll be forever young." You sang and he thought it was beautiful, you weren't even the best singer.

But your voice had this crisp-clear quality that he adored.

He dipped you backwards kissing your neck causing the bar to whoop.

Duncan continued singing as you lead the dance, trying to find the gun. Finally you saw it, a flash the muzzle again as it tried to focus on you. The owner was in a red silk coat, he had brownish hair, and had a mustache, better yet he was standing under a clock.

"Talk of the town, you bought me a gown, told me you swoop in once the clock struck-twelve." You had changed the words to get Duncan's attention. His eyes found the clock, and then the man.

"I had a dream, you weren't so mean, but I kinda like it when you get angry." Duncan winked and he knew that you knew that he meant those words.

You blushed as he secretly handed you a miniscule blow dart he kept on him for emergencies.

As you waltzed together you tossed the tiny blowdart into your mouth and as he twirled you out you blew hard, hitting your target with ease.

----

You stumbled out the bar laughing your heads off.

"Okay so you've had ten guns pointed on you this month and I've had eight, this makes it the ninth one. Damn it you are still in the lead, Tarun." You grumbled rubbing a hand tiredly down your face causing Duncan to laugh.

"Always will be, baby." He twirled you around like a princess.

You were his princess.

"But seriously, scorpion, you okay? That man was being touchy in a way I know you aren't exactly used too." Duncan put an arm around your shoulders squeezing you tight.

"God, I hate being a fake-whore." You said dramatically. "Who said it was fake." Duncan teased ruffling your curled up hair. "It took me five hours to get my hair like this, hands off, tiger." You grumbled trying to fix it back up.

You were wearing a dark green cocktail dress and your hair was curled.

"Also, I'm only a whore for you." You whispered in his ear causing him to turn a different shade of pink, and you ran ahead laughing you ass off as he chased you.

Damn, you loved holidays with that idiot.

Because he was your idiot <3

---

Bonus! Texts between you and Duncan from his POV:

11 years old:

Me: Tell me I'm pretty!

Bunny<3: You're pretty annoying, that's what you are.

12 years old:

Me: Stay foxy.

Trauma bud 🤩: Die lonely.

Thirteen years old

motherless idiot <3: Bro your my bestfriend, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK drugs are you taking.

Me I love you too :)

Fourteen years old:

Me: Is something burning?

scorpion ♥️: Just my hatred for you.

Me: 1. this is why your mom died, 2. the toaster is literally on fire get an extingwishur

scorpion ♥️: spell it right first

Me: suck my DICK

Fifteen years old:

scorpion ♥️: I actually have a black belt.

Me: In what, karate?

scorpion ♥️: No, from Gucci-

Me: sorry i dont speak rich bitch

scorpion ♥️: this is why your father beats you

Sixteen years old:

scorpion ♥️: You're right.

Me: .... is the world ending, am i dying, who's DYING?

Sixteen years old

scorpion ♥️: I’m going to take you out 

Me: alr its a date

scorpion ♥️: I meant that as a threat i am litearally going to fucking stab you

Me: See you in twenty wear your good dress

Seventeen years old

My girl <3: You often use humor to deflect trauma 

Me: Thank you 

My girl <3: I didn't say that was a good thing 

Me: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

My girl <3: uhhhhhhhh i didnt say they were good jokes baby

----

Another bonus: text when you were sixteen from your POV

Tiger 💚: Some dumb ass to fight a squid at the aquarium today- humans fuckin dissapoint me wtf

Me: Well, maybe the squid was being a dick. and in unrelated news i got ink on your blanket mb

[rainisawriter]

Made With Love – Shibaman (PSF #10)

PSF Ficography | H&F Flash Ficography

Genre: Fluff, romance, slice of life

Prompt: Love of my Life (@flufftober) / Leaves dancing in the breeze (Fall Flash @slumberpartybingo)

Word Count: 5,249

Pairing: Reader x Shibaman

World: High&Low

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

If someone had asked you a year ago if you believed in love or soulmates, you probably would have said no. It just wasn’t something that ever crossed your mind, mostly because you just didn’t have the time. Between dealing with Kuryu trying to destroy Sword, then Housen and Oya going at it… It kept you pretty busy. 

Things had been peaceful for several months now, though. Well, as peaceful as it could get at a place like Oya. There were still daily fights and arguments, but nothing that couldn’t be easily solved with a few punches.

With nothing else to worry about, you spent a lot of time with Tsuji, making fun of people’s poor fashion choices in magazines, and with Shibaman, listening to his favorite artists and talking about music in general.

If someone asked you to pinpoint when exactly it happened, you wouldn’t be able to answer because you simply didn’t know. You don’t know when you fell in love with Shibaman, you just knew that you had fallen hard. If you were being honest, it took you a long time to even realize it.

You started to feel nervous around him, worrying about how you acted or the things you said. You were afraid he would look at you differently. There were also the physical effects he had on you. Every time his eyes met yours, your heart would race. Hearing his voice never failed to make you feel calm and happy. His touch set butterflies free in your gut and when he spoke your name, you felt like you were melting.

You thought you were sick or maybe even allergic to him. It was so foreign to you that it was jarring, so you started to avoid him. He didn’t like this, of course, so he confronted you about it. You had no idea how to explain what you were feeling, at least not until Tsuji intervened.

He had noticed the change between the two of you – and he wasn’t the only one, either. To your surprise, Shibaman had been experiencing the exact same feelings. He loved you, too, so you started dating to test the waters. It was awkward as hell at first. It felt as if something had changed between you and you hated it.

It took a while, but you finally figured out that things didn’t need to change simply because you were a couple now. It took time, but the two of you soon fell back into the familiar groove you had sat in throughout your friendship and it was amazing.

Shibaman was the love of your life, you realized. All you wanted was to be near him and for him to be happy. You would do anything to make him feel loved, to make him realize how special he was to you. 

With his birthday and Halloween coming up soon, you wanted to do something special because, this year, the two of you were more than just friends. It took you a while to figure out what you wanted to do and you weren’t even sure it was a good idea. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, though, so you knew you had to at least try.

You could only hope your efforts wouldn’t be wasted and that he wouldn’t hate it.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Ready to go?” Shibaman leaned toward you from where he sat on the couch, a smile on his lips.

You offered him an apologetic smile. “I actually have plans today…”

The two men exchanged a surprised look before Tsuji questioned, “Don’t tell me you’re cheating on us.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you stood up. “No, never. I do need to get going, though.”

“Where are you going?” Shibaman stood up, reaching for your hand. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, you can’t!” You replied quickly, making his brow furrow. You mentally cursed yourself, scrambling for a believable excuse. “My cousin is coming into town today. I… haven’t seen her in a long time and she’s not really a fan of guys, so…” You mentally cursed again for choosing such a terrible lie.

Whether he believed it or not, he didn’t question it. “Be safe. If you need me, call me.”

“I will, I promise.” You cupped his cheek, pulling him down into a soft kiss that stole his breath away. “I’ll see you later.” You smiled at the two before rushing out of the room, unaware of the worried look the two exchanged.

It took a while for you to reach Housen, mostly because you were paranoid that the boys were following you so you took the road less traveled. The students looked at you strangely when you entered the school, but they knew who you were and had no desire to fight you. Housen and Oya had long since squashed their beef.

“Excuse me,” you called out, tapping a boy on the shoulder. When he turned, you recognized him instantly. “Ah, Sawamura!”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Yuken. Can you take me to him?”

“Yeah, sure,” he motioned for you to follow before starting down the hall. “What do you need to see him for?”

“Ah, well…” you rubbed the back of your neck, offering him a sheepish smile. “It’s a bit personal.”

He hummed, giving you a playful smile. “I hope you’re not going to confess. You know he’s dating Meg.”

You laughed at the thought. “I would never betray her like that. Besides, you know I’m dating Shibaman.”

“Oh, right. I forgot about that. Does he know you’re here?”

You frowned, lowering your gaze to the floor. You felt bad lying to him but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 

“That’s a no, then,” he replied softly, resting his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you, Sawamura.”

He led you toward a classroom on the first floor, sitting at the back of the school. The Four Heavenly Kings, along with a bunch of seniors, were crowded around the room, watching two students try to take down Jinkawa. The keyword there being try.

“Wait here,” Sawamura told you before moving farther into the room. Yuken was sitting at the back of the room with his girlfriend, the two watching something on his phone. Sawamura leaned down to tell him the situation, pointing over at you.

Yuken met your eyes and you smiled politely, waving your hand at him. Meg leaned to the side to see around the large boys standing between the two of you, a grin on her lips as she waved at you.

You waved back before forming a heart with your hearts. She pretended to catch it, holding it against her chest before both of you started laughing. Yuken shook his head, pressing a kiss to her cheek before standing up and approaching you.

“What can I do for you?” he inquired, a charming smile on his lips.

You glanced at the group of men gathered in the center of the room. Most of them were focused on the fight, but a few were sending you curious looks. “Can we talk somewhere more… private?”

He quirked a brow, glancing at the other boys before nodding. “Sure. Follow me.”

You followed him outside, taking a deep breath of the cool autumn air. “I need your help.”

“My help? Shouldn’t you be asking Oya?”

“This isn’t a problem they can help with,” you frowned, glancing around to ensure you were alone. “Is it true that you know how to crochet?”

Yuken scowled, a hand on his hip. “I told Meg not to tell anyone that.” 

“So, it’s true then?” You gave him a hopeful look and he nodded. “Please teach me!”

He hummed curiously, folding his arms over his chest. “I expect diligence. No slacking off and no excuses.”

“I understand. I promise to be a good student!”

Yuken considered this for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Give me your number so I can text you when I get everything set up.”

“Thank you so much,” you grinned.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

For the next two months, you visited Yuken every few days to learn how to crochet and begin working on the sweater you wanted to make for Shibaman. You chose the softest yarn you could find, using black as the base color. It took a while for you to decide between cats and pumpkins, but you finally chose both.

In the center of the sweater would be a jack-o-lantern with a cat leaning the upper half of its body on top of it. You also planned to add a witch’s hat. You could clearly see the design in your head, but it was much harder to bring to life than you had anticipated.

“Damn it,” you cursed, scowling down at the design before you. The jack-o-lantern was misshapen despite having redone it about twenty times. If you couldn’t even get a pumpkin right, how in the hell were you going to get the cat done? You were getting frustrated, especially since his birthday was quickly approaching.

“Don’t get frustrated,” scolded Yuken, peering at you over his glasses. “It’ll only make the stitching look worse.”

“I know,” you muttered, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You carefully undid the stitch before trying again, slower this time, but it still came out looking funky. “Ugh! Why is this so damn hard?!”

“I did warn you that this pattern wasn’t beginner-friendly,” he tutted, sitting back in his chair as he worked on a pair of mittens for his girlfriend. Unlike your creation, his was pristine and well crafted, clearly made by a professional.

“Maybe I should have hired you to make one instead of teach me,” you sighed, sliding down in your seat. 

“You’d regret it.”

“Huh?”

“You chose to learn how to crochet because you wanted to make something for the person you love, right?” He quirked a brow at you. “You wanted to craft something with your own hands, your own heart, to show him how much he means to you. That is the soul of crocheting – making things with love for the people you care about most. The feeling simply doesn’t transfer if someone else makes it.”

You frowned at the sweater in your hands, taking in his words. “You’re right, but… it looks god awful, he’s going to hate it. What was I thinking? Shibaman is into fashion and hip-hop, why the hell would he want a crocheted Halloween sweater? I’m so stupid!” You groaned, hanging your head.

Yuken scoffed, sending you an offended look. “If he’s not grateful for your hard work, then the problem lies with him, not you. Taking the time to crochet something for someone is the ultimate form of love and respect! And if he disrespects that, I’ll kick his ass myself!”

“You’re really passionate about this, huh…”

“Everyone needs something to be passionate about.”

“I thought that was fighting.”

He clicked his tongue. “Other than fighting. Come on, you need a break before you ruin the yarn.”

You set the sweater carefully in its box, closing the lid before following the male away from Housen and toward the local café to grab some lunch. The woman at the counter greeted him cheerfully, so you assumed he came here often.

Yuken sat down across from you, folding his hands on the table. “Tell me honestly, why did you choose to crochet a sweater for him? There are plenty of gift options that may be more… suited to his tastes.”

“Why?” You frowned at the table, scratching your cheek in thought. “As soon as I thought of the idea, it just felt… right, I guess. This is the first time we’re celebrating his birthday and Halloween as a couple, so I really want it to be special. I wanted to make him something myself because…”

“It feels more personal?” He guessed, quirking a brow.

“Yes.”

“The fact that you chose crochet over all other art forms tells me that you understand the craft at its base level. As long as you understand that, then no matter what you craft, no matter how imperfect it may be, it will be perfect in the eyes of the one receiving it.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

“You’re the crochet expert, I guess.”

“Just… don’t go around telling people that, alright?”

“Sure, sure.”

While the two of you continued talking, Shibaman and Tsuji just so happened to be passing by. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to glance over, but his eyes fell on you immediately, widening in surprise. You had told him you were going to help your cousin get settled into her new apartment outside of Sword, yet there you were, sitting in a cafe with Housen’s Odajima.

Tsuji paused when he realized the taller male had stopped walking. He followed the male’s gaze, removing his glasses with a frown. “They are definitely not cousins.”

Shibaman frowned, feeling frustration and pain settle in his gut. Though he wasn’t fond of the idea of you meeting up with other schools, that isn’t what bothered him. Why had you lied to him about it? Why weren’t you honest with him?

Tsuji glanced at him, nudging his arm. “Don’t jump to conclusions. We should confront -”

“No,” Shibaman shook his head, beginning to walk away.

“No?” Tsuji quickly followed him, brow furrowed. “Don’t you want the truth?”

“Of course I do,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t want to demand answers from you, though. He wanted you to come clean on your own. “Don’t say anything about this.”

Tsuji had an idea of what his best friend was thinking, though he wasn’t entirely sure he agreed. “Fine, I won’t say anything,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Baby,” called Shibaman, slipping his hand into yours as he leaned closer to you. “Do you want to go see a movie?”

Tsuji glanced up from the magazine he was reading. “My uncle just recently started working at the theater. He can get us in for free.”

“Oh, uh…” you rubbed the back of your neck with a frown. “I’d like to, but…”

“You have to see your cousin,” guessed Shibaman, his jaw tensing as he turned his gaze toward the wall.

You could feel how tense his body was and you didn’t notice the way he tried to subtly shift away from you. Guilt pooled inside your gut. “I’m sorry…”

He nearly asked if you really were sorry, but he bit back the question, pulling his hand free as he stood up. “It’s fine.”

You weren’t dumb. You knew this man like the back of your hand and you knew it very much was not fine. He wasn’t the type to speak his mind, though, and preferred to bottle things up until he simply couldn’t any longer. It was obvious that he was getting fed up with your cousin and you constantly ditching them.

Tsuji stood up to follow but paused when you called out his name. He quirked a brow at you but you could tell his usual friendliness toward you was gone. He didn’t like it when his brother was upset.

You quickly shut the door in case Shibaman was still close by and you lowered your voice. “I know you’re mad at me -”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffed, having to bite his tongue to stop from mentioning the cafe. 

You chewed on your lip, having an internal debate with yourself about whether or not to tell him. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell Shibaman.”

“I can’t promise that.” He folded his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed from behind his colored glasses. “If you’re hiding something from him, he deserves to know.”

“And he will,” you promised him. “Just… I need a bit more time.”

“Time for what?”

You glanced at the door before leaning toward him. “I’m working on something for his birthday. It’s… taking longer than I thought it would. I didn’t want to lie but I want it to be a surprise.”

Tsuji felt surprised by this information. Why hadn’t he considered that you might be planning something? He felt a bit dumb for not thinking of it sooner, but he also felt a bit hurt that you hadn’t confided in him sooner. “You should have told me.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry…”

He sighed deeply, bringing his hand to his forehead. “I’ll see what I can do, but you better hurry up. He knows something’s up and he’s getting impatient.”

“I know…”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Come on, you got this!” cheered Meg, staring at you with a grin.

“Just a little bit more,” encouraged Yuken with a nod, leaning toward you. 

“Hurry up, you’re so close!”

“No, don’t hurry up! Don’t rush it now!”

You looked up from the sweater with a scowl, sitting back when you realized just how close the two of them were to your face. “Can you two give me some space?”

“Oh, are you having performance anxiety?” snickered Meg as she sat back down.

You scoffed, muttering under your breath, “Anyone would with you two breathing down their neck.”

“Hey, we’re just trying to help.” Yuken sat down as well, arms folded over his chest. He was watching you intently, his shoulders tense as he watched the way you were stitching the last bit of the sweater.

Meg noticed this and laughed, resting her hand on his arm. “I think you’re more tense and you’re not even the one making it.”

“Of course I am! This is the creation of my first student.”

“Your first student?” she grinned, quirking a brow. “Does that mean you’re gonna take on more?”

Yuken said nothing, though he’d be lying if he said the idea hadn’t crossed his mind. He enjoyed teaching you more than he thought he would, despite how frustrating you could be at times.

“Yuken’s Crochet studio,” you snickered, glancing at him. “Got a nice ring to it.”

“Focus,” he scolded, refusing to admit that he did like the sound of it.

“Alright, keep your panties on.” You did as he instructed, focusing on the last few stitches. A few tense moments of silence ticked by. “There… it’s done.” You stood up, holding up the completed sweater.

It was far from perfect, the cat looking a bit derpy and the pumpkin still misshapen, but it had its own unique charm to it. It was one of a kind, made with all the love you held in your heart for Shibaman. That made up for the imperfections.

“What do you think?” you questioned nervously.

“It’s super cute,” smiled Meg. “He’s going to love it!”

Yuken nodded, giving you a proud look. “I have to say, I wasn’t confident that you would stick with it until the end.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But you did and I’m proud of you.”

You chuckled, feeling happy at the praise. “Thank you, Yuken-sensei.”

Yuken put his hands together in front of him and bowed, deepening his voice. “Now, go out into the world, my pupil.”

Meg snorted. “What voice is that supposed to be?”

“Yoda.”

“That wasn’t even close.”

“I tried my best,” he pouted, pulling her into his arms.

You carefully folded the sweater before placing it in the box and securing it with an orange ribbon. “His birthday is tomorrow… wish me luck.”

“You got this,” Meg smiled, offering you a thumbs up. “And if he doesn’t appreciate it, Yuken will kick his ass.”

Yuken nodded, pushing up his glasses. “I won’t stand for anyone disrespecting such a sacred art.”

“Thanks, guys.” You offered them a bow and a grateful smile before scooping up the box and heading home.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this nervous, your heart racing within your chest. You were honestly tempted to just drop the gift off and run away, not wanting to see his reaction, but you knew you couldn’t do that. It was his birthday, after all, and you wanted to make up for avoiding him lately.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door of his house. His older sister was the one who answered, looking tired. “He left already.”

“Eh?” your brow furrowed. He had always waited for you to arrive before heading to school so it was strange that he had gone ahead of you. “O-Oh, um… thank you.”

“Oi,” she called out, eyes narrowed at you. “He’s been moping around lately. If I find out you’re the reason, I’m gonna kick your ass.” And then she slammed the door in your face.

You scowled in frustration, though you weren’t sure if it was more toward her or yourself. You knew you were the cause and it pissed you off despite having done it with good intentions. Surely he would forgive you… right?

Holding the box to your chest, you rushed toward Oya high, keeping an eye open for the pair as you went. You entered the broadcast room with a smile, expecting to see your boyfriend sitting on the couch, listening to music. It was Todoroki who sat on the couch, though, reading one of his books.

Tsuji stood up when you entered, a frown on his lips. “He had already left when I got to his house this morning. I have no idea where he is.”

“Oh,” you frowned, chewing on your bottom lip. You thought about it for a moment before carefully setting the box beside Todoroki. “Can you make sure he gets this please?”

“Of course,” Tsuji offered you a smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. It did little to help, though.

“Thank you.” You offered him a bow before turning and leaving the room. Without Shibaman there, it felt pointless to stay at school so you decided to just leave.

Rather than go home, you chose to go for a walk around town to clear your head. The wind was chilly, making you retreat farther into the jacket you were wearing. It had originally belonged to Shibaman so it was quite large on you and it still faintly smelled of him. 

A light misty rain started to fall from the cloudy sky, feeling cold against your face but you didn’t mind. The rain was peaceful and helped you relax whenever you felt stressed. It wasn’t heavy rain, anyway, so the likelihood of you catching a cold from it was slim.

Despite how peaceful and quiet the world around you felt, you couldn’t stop thinking about Shibaman. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he mad at you? Or was he just hurt by your lies? You wished you could find him and explain everything, but you knew he didn’t want to be found. He wanted to be alone so he could sort out his own feelings.

That was fine with you, you just wished it hadn’t fallen on his birthday. Today was supposed to be special for him, to be free of worry or want. You had royally screwed that up, though.

With a sigh, you plopped down on the wooden bench inside the makeshift park. Honestly, you weren’t even sure it met the qualifications to be considered a park because it was just a small strip of grass with trees planted at each corner. A sad-looking swing set sat in the middle, the metal rusted and worn.

You doubted it was safe to use, though there were few things within Sword that were. The city’s entire aesthetic was danger.

You slid down on the bench as thunder rumbled softly overhead, leaning your head back so you could stare up at the sky. The tree to your left was completely bare, its leaves scattered across the ground like discarded newspapers. The tree on your right, though, was still clinging to a few of them, as if desperate to not let go.

The wind picked up and they finally broke free, dancing gently through the air as they made their way to the earth below. It was such a simple thing, but it brought a smile to your lips. 

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You stifled a yawn as you approached your apartment, reaching into the pocket of the jacket for your keys. You hadn’t intended to spend the day at the park but time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and, before you knew it, the sun was setting.

To your surprise, Shibaman was pacing back and forth outside the building, running a hand through his red hair repeatedly. He looked distressed which alarmed you.

“Shibaman? What’s-“

As soon as he heard your voice, his head snapped up. In just a couple long strides, he reached you, throwing his arms around you until you were buried in the warmth of his chest. The smell of pine and cologne filled your nostrils and you smiled, fingers curling around the black t-shirt he was wearing.

“Where have you been?” He huffed, trying to control the light tremble of his voice. “I’ve been worried sick!”

You frowned, pulling back so you could see his face. “You’re the one who disappeared. You had already left the house by the time I got there and you weren’t at school, either.”

“My sister made me go pick up some food from the convenience store,” he scowled, clearly still annoyed by this. “I told her I was waiting for you but she wouldn’t stop bitching about it. When I got back, she told me you had stopped by.”

Thinking about it, it did make sense. She’s never liked you, even when you were just his friend, claiming that you were a bad influence on him. When you started dating, she didn’t try to hide the fact that she thought you weren’t good enough for her baby brother. 

“When I got to school, Tsuji said you were looking for me then you left. I looked everywhere for you.” He cupped your face, brows punched with worry. “I thought… I thought something happened.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you, love,” you told him softly, resting your hand over his. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did. Many times!”

“You did?” Your own brow furrowed in confusion as you reached for your phone only to realize it wasn’t there. You had forgotten it this morning in your excitement to get to Shibaman’s house. You offered him a sheepish, embarrassed smile. “I, uh… I forgot my phone.”

Shibaman scoffed in disbelief, lowering his head until his forehead met your shoulder. The tension was slowly leaving him now that you were safe and sound in front of him.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you told him softly, running your fingers through his hair. “And on your birthday, too.”

He chuckled, arms encircling your waist so he could bring you closer, bringing his forehead down to meet yours. “You’re safe, that’s all I need.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile, pressing your lips to his. “Stay with me tonight?”

He hummed, claiming your lips again. “Of course.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Baby, wake up.” Shibaman pressed a kiss beneath your ear, arms wrapped protectively around your waist. 

“Five more minutes,” you mumbled tiredly, leaning into the warmth his body offered.

He chuckled, turning you over so you were on your back looking up at him. “You said that five minutes ago.”

“Did I?” Your brow furrowed. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“I’m gonna stop by my place to grab something,” he told you softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll meet you at school, okay?”

“Wait, I’ll go with you.” You forced yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“I’d rather keep you away from my sister,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” He put his finger beneath your chin, leaning down to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” You watched as he left the room, listening to his footsteps fade before the front door opened and closed behind him. Despite wanting to go back to sleep, you forced yourself out of bed and got ready for the day.

It was much colder out today than it was yesterday, the sky covered by light grey clouds that made it seem more like the afternoon than early morning. You didn’t mind it, though. The cold was a welcome change from the warm weather of summer and spring, plus it gave you an excuse to steal more of your boyfriend’s jackets.

When you got to school, you were surprised to find the boys gathered in the courtyard, snickering and laughing. Curious, you made your way through the crowd, eyes widening at what you saw.

Shibaman was leaning against the building, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed. There was a slight furrow to his brow as he tried to ignore the teasing he was receiving. The reason for this teasing? He was wearing the sweater you had crocheted him.

It fit him perfectly, showing off his toned body while still being comfortable to wear. It was warm, too, easily blocking the cold wind. When you looked at the design, it felt childish to you and you felt guilty for not just making him a regular, solid sweater.

“Did you get that from your granny?” Teased one of the older boys before bursting out laughing, his friends following suit.

Shibaman opened his eyes, narrowing them at the male.

You swallowed down the nerves and embarrassment you felt, stepping forward. “I made it…”

“You did?” snorted the male. “No wonder it looks like trash -“

A fist slammed into his face, sending him flying back into the crowd with a cry. Shibaman straightened up, fire in his eyes. “Don’t you ever say that shit again or I’ll kill you.”

The crowd grew tense, their previous jolly demeanors changing to one of fear. It was easy to laugh at him and not take him seriously when he was wearing that sweater, but it didn’t change anything about how strong he was or how protective of you he was.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, lowering your head. “I didn’t consider how Oya would react. You don’t have to wear it.”

He scoffed, resting his large hand atop your head. “Of course, I’m gonna wear it. You spent months working on this, didn’t you?”

You nodded, tugging lightly at the material. “It was my first time crocheting. Yuken did his best to teach me, but… it could have been better.”

Realization flashed across his face as he remembered seeing you at the café with said male. Everything made sense now and his heart was filled with warmth and love for you. “I love it.”

“Really?” You sent him a skeptical look. “You’re not just saying that?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. If I didn’t like it, I’d be honest.” As badly as he wanted to kiss you, he couldn’t bring himself to do so with the crowd that was still gathered in the courtyard. PDA was not something he enjoyed. “I love this sweater and I love you.”

You searched his eyes for any hint of a lie but there was none. “You really like it?”

“I do. Thank you, baby.”

Your eyes lit up, happiness filling you. “You’re welcome!”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[quietlyimplode]

The language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: day 4 - shock

Warnings: action based blood/explosion

Word Count: 1.7k (gif not mine)

Summary: Clint and Natasha’s first mission after the events of New York.

A/N: Sometimes things are exactly as they appear to be. (Also be kind to fic writers pls, know we read each and very comment on reblogs <3)

.

2012

NEW YORK

“He’s better,” Natasha defends, protectively.

“I’m just saying that hiding in vents to spy on your friends is not a good thing,” Bruce tells her.

“He’s not spying, this is a weird situation. We’re here because it’s mandated. We just didn’t know for how long.”

Natasha moves out of the kitchen, wanting to find Clint.

“Just think about it?” Bruce calls after her.

Six months they’ve been here and she knows they’re both stir crazy. Probably all of them are.

Bruce is preparing to go back to Calcutta, and who knows where Thor left to.

She knows Bruce just wants the best for Clint, and she does too; but weekly therapy is enough.

They don’t need more.

He’s no longer catatonic, he’s eating, joking and talking about his feelings.

Isn’t that all she can ask of him?

He’s never had to deal with mind control or someone being in his brain.

The tower is more empty now, though Tony maintains they’re welcome for as long as they want.

She wonders what Steve is going to do.

Her phone rings and she glances at the caller, seeing Maria, she picks it up.

“Yeah?”

Reprieve comes in the strangest of ways.

“We have a mission for you,” she opens.

“Australia.”

Natasha’s heart leaps a little and she smiles to herself.

“Send the packet,” she says, “we can leave whenever.”

Maria pauses.

“How’s he doing?”

Natasha finds her way into the elevator, choosing Clint’s floor as an email comes through.

“Got it,” she tells her, “he’s better, he’s ready for this I think.”

Maria is quiet.

“I’m glad; we’ve missed you both.”

Natasha nods.

“Nothing like a mission to Australia to recalibrate.”

“I’ll get Fury to spring for business class, the 18 hour trip is shit,” Maria laughs.

Natasha is thankful, she hates traveling economy class on long haul trips.

“Hey, maybe whilst you’re there you can do some wedding prep,” Maria goads.

Natasha laughs and hangs up on her friend.

It’s been a running joke since the mission in Kashmir, one that since the events in New York, she’d not heard.

Finding Clint reading, she throws her phone at him with the open packet showing.

“Australia?!”

His glee is contagious as she smiles.

Today is a good day.

Natasha feels a bit of lightness in her world, and it feels strange given the last six months.

She can’t remember the last day like it. Maybe before the aliens came.

“Business class?!”

He laughs again.

“What a lowball mission, they must be feeling sorry for us.”

She takes her phone back, and lays down next to him.

“Maria said we should do some wedding prep,” she laughs with him.

His face turns serious, and she wonders if she’s ruined the mood.

“What if we do?”

She breaks into a smile.

“Yeah okay.”

He nods, looks at the packet again.

“We’re going to Queensland anyway. Nothing happens there.”

Natasha nods, lays down next to him and closes her eyes.

“Bruce is leaving tomorrow too,” she murmurs.

“Tony is going to be lonely,” Clint considers.

“Yeah.”

She does feel sorry for the billionaire, who seems to have grown accustomed to having people in his world, to suddenly have none.

“Maybe we should get everyone together and eat tonight,” he proposes, “I think maybe after Australia we could go back to the apartment.”

It’s a big step, not being around people, not feeling the need to have safety measures in place. She doesn’t think she would have even considered it a month ago, but the more she thinks about it, the more it feels right.

“Yeah I think that sounds like a good idea.”

.

Tony spares no expense in providing for his friends.

It’s kind. Natasha isn’t used to the abundance, even after all this time.

“There’s no way we will eat all this,” she tells him, passing him the food.

Pepper, Steve and Bruce sit on one side and it’s the three of them on the other.

Sitting between Clint and Tony, it’s like sitting between her brother and her lover. Or what she imagines that might be like.

She’s going to have to ask Clint what it was like growing up with a brother. She imagines dangerous in a fun way.

Steve tells a story that makes her laugh; and she goads him with a fossil joke, Clint chimes in with another story and the night passes quickly.

Too quickly, it feels and she wants to stay in this happy moment, this good day.

It surely can’t last.

.

Australia is hot.

It’s a different heat to the United States, and she can almost feel the infrared heat engulf her as she steps off the plane.

“Shit,” Clint exclaims.

She stares at him and he shuts up.

He’s to play her bodyguard, and his outburst is out of character. It’s not like him.

It’s like he’s forgotten what he needs to do to be a spy.

She frowns, worried.

This is a low ball mission, but it doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t take it seriously.

Let your guard down and you become an easy target, even if the mission is just surveillance.

He takes her bags in apology and she fakes the persona she’s been given.

Rich people rarely give eye contact to anyone.

She leaves her glasses on and continues on her way through customs. It takes longer than she expects and she internally groans at the lines.

Externally, she complains out-loud. Everyone avoids eye contact.

Australians are a strange bunch, unlike Americans they seem to both simultaneously helpful and not, no one going out of their way to explain things or to point the clueless in the right direction.

The car that picks them up and drives them to the house is black and the driver nondescript.

It’s only when they’re alone in the two story house overlooking the beach that she breaks character and flops on the bed.

“I forget how well you do a rich bitch,” he says offensively.

She smiles.

“Get me a drink, won’t you?”

He laughs and busies himself with making a late lunch.

They have three hours before night, before they start the stakeout and all he’s eaten is plane food.

.

Two hours in the car and he’s so bored he starts throwing popcorn into his mouth.

Then.

The generator blows.

“Nat?”

“Yeah I saw it.”

They move out of the car, trying to get a better look.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” he mutters.

She rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think so.”

Natasha moves quickly, scouting the house to see what’s happening inside, their line of sight now gone in the darkness.

“Nat, wait,” he urges, “what if it’s a trap?”

The money launder is clearly on alert.

Two sets of armed guards leave the door and Natasha watches as they fan out. She sneaks past them and Clint swears as she looks back.

Natasha moves into the house.

Two shots ring out, and Clint ducks, swearing softly under his breath.

There’s someone else there and he can’t see them.

Scrambling up and onto the tall fence, he moves across the tallest tree and climbs up it.

There’s a team of two, dressed in black with large night vision goggles that make them look like frogs.

He taps on his ear piece.

“There’s two, on your left, try and take the mark alive if you can,” he orders.

“The two are coming through the kitchen, he’s moving out the up the stairs.”

Ideally alive, with his ties to hydra and the ten rings, he has valuable information they can use.

Natasha gives the signal she’s seen and chases him up the stairs.

Clint holds the two unknowns lined up in his sight.

He sees one set a charge and the other place two more.

“Fuck, Nat, they’re setting it to blow,” he growls, too far away, too high up to get to her before they detonate.

He drops down anyway, yelling.

“Nat, it’s a trap, they’re rigging it to blow, get out,” he says urgently.

He chases after the retreating spooks, and catches one, gun trained on them.

The frog like character shakes it’s head and holds up the detonator.

“No,” he exclaims, and holds his gun up.

They shake their head, and then press the button.

Hot flames engulf the building, throwing both of them back.

He tackles the body to the ground, ripping off the mask, and punching down hard.

Blonde hair and a frown greet him under the balaclava.

Wild eyes turn to him, “better go save Natasha,” a Russian accent growls.

Shock hits him.

How do they know Natasha?

Russian.

Black widow?

His heart sinks as the realization that Natasha is in a burning building.

“Just like Dreykov’s daughter,” she says scathingly, “left alone to die in a burning building with a bad man.”

Clint lets her go and runs.

She’s going to be okay, she has to be.

The explosion wasn’t big enough to total the building, parts still standing as he coughs in the heat, shielding his face.

He hears sirens wailing, and he knows he needs to find her.

“Natasha!” he calls, going in.

“Nat?!”

He calls her name over and over until he reaches the crumbling stairs. Covering his mouth, hoping that nothing else explodes, he climbs them.

Finding a bathroom, he opens the door only to find Natasha behind it.

“Bathtub,” she coughs.

“Stayed in.”

He hands her the cloth he was using to cover her mouth and helps her down the stairs.

“Mr. Nought?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“Couldn’t get to him. Dead, I think.”

They exit the house, Natasha limping and Clint guiding her out.

He wants to check her over, to see if she’s actually okay, but the sirens draw closer and they need to leave.

“I think the safe house is compromised,” he says driving away, heading straight for the airfield.

“We probably need to swap cars too.”

Natasha groans and holds her head, and Clint glances at her.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just go, find a car,” she tells him.

There’s blood but he can’t tell in her black cat suit.

“Who was that?” she asks, looking back.

He doesn’t want to say the words but as he speaks them, the more he’s convinced he’s correct.

“Nat, I think it was Yelena.”

.

[elamimax]

Karlach's Happy Ending

because I hated her ending, and even more when I found out it's because the endings where you actually get to help her are cut content. So I wrote one of my own for those of us who are peeved that our big strong girlfriend didn't get the sendoff she deserved. (Also on ao3 now)

“We did it, Soldier. The city’s going to be all right. And so are you.”

Karlach turned around to face Tav, the sun low in the sky behind her, framing her ever-burning hair. She was as beautiful as the first time they’d met, down by the river, what felt like years ago now. Had it really only been a matter of weeks? That didn’t feel right. That didn’t feel right at all. 

Tav had only known her for only so short a time and now she was going to lose her. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. All she could do as the giant woman, this indestructible, powerful titan of a woman fell to her knees, groaning in pain as fire began to overtake her, all Tav could do, was rush over in a powerless panic.

“Engine’s finally cooked,” Karlach said. “Held on just long enough.” She was gasping for air now. Thoughts of Karlach’s weakness were drowned out by the helpless, impotent fury of it all. Her Karlach, for not nearly long enough of a time. But the tiefling wasn’t going to let her sit with her thoughts. “So,” she asked, forcing herself to smile and sound optimistic despite everything. “H-how’d I do?” 

“You were spectacular,” Tav said, forcing the words through her teeth. “In every way.” She hated saying every word of it, not because it wasn’t true but because she could only say them and not feel them, show them through touch and kiss and teeth and all the things that had marked her relationship with Karlach, every second they had been able to touch savoured like it was the last thing either of them would ever do. 

“I’m sorry, am I the only one who thinks this is ridiculous?” 

Tav’s head spun around like it was on a swivel. Astarion stood off to the side, nursing a bloody lip with a handkerchief. He was intruding. He had to know. He had to know now was a bad time. Sure, he was a Vampire Ascendant now, whatever that might mean, and he thought it was funny to tell kids they were about to die, but Karlach was his friend too, damn it! Let them have their grief!

“Now is not the time,” Shadowheart admonished him. 

“No,” the vampire said, stepping forward. “Now is exactly the time.” He looked almost offended at Karlach’s scream of pain as the engine in her chest burned ever brighter. “I thought you were going to pull something outrageous out of your ridiculous behind at the last possible moment, but no! You’re all just going to stand around feeling sorry for yourselves! It’s ridiculous!”

“I’m not going back to Avernus,” Karlach groaned between her teeth.

“For the love of– No!” Astarion said, shoving Tav off to the side like she wasn’t even there. This bastard, this pale-skinned bastard was going to ruin her last chance to say goodbye! “Karlach!” he said. “Do you trust me?”

“I… Do I have a choice?”

He bit his lip which, Tav realised, probably hurt him more than most, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “This goes against my better judgement, but… yes. Yes, you do, darling.”

“Then - I - guess - I - do,” Karlach huffed. 

“Good,” Astarion said, smiling like a child in a candy shop. “Could you be a dear and count to three for me?”

“One,” Karlach said, and Astarion shoved his hand between her ribs. It sounded like a chicken being opened from the inside. It was the most horrifying sound Tav had ever heard up until about two months ago. Her threshold for disgusting sounds had been significantly raised since then. 

Reality seemed to set back in as she looked at Astarion, his hand up to his wrist in Karlach’s chest, and she jumped up, shoving him away from her. On his back, unceremoniously and undignified, he had the gall to grin at her. 

“Ta-dah,” he said, and held up a metal sphere. It was steaming. Something hissed and Tav realised it was the sound of Astarion’s blood boiling. “Fuck,” he shouted and tossed it into the bay, where the Elder Brain floated gently in the waves. 

“Karlach!” Tav yelled as she dropped down next to her. She wasn’t breathing. She wasn’t moving. 

“What in the hells were you thinking?!” Shadowheart screamed behind her, grabbing Astarion by the collar.

“You’re a cleric!” he scolded her, and pointed at Karlach. “Do your job!”

“I can’t just heal her! Growing back an organ would require–”

“It would require what?” Astarion said, mocking her. “Loyalty to a deity that has chosen you, specifically? Oh, if only we had someone like that on hand! If only we had someone who could call upon divine intervention to give one single person a regular heart! If only–”

Shadowheart was already on her knees and praying, and a beam of moonlight slammed down on Karlach so hard it seemed to have actual weight to it. 

Tav had expected something… spectacular. Sparks. A light show. Instead, Karlach’s wound slowly closed, there was a moment of quiet, pregnant silence, and then the tiefling shot up, crashing forehead-first into her, there was a hollow -thunk- and both of them fell back clutching their head. 

Karlach was the first to recover. She sat up and looked down. For the first time in a decade, her chest wasn’t glowing. Her body wasn’t generating so much heat the whole world was covered in a light shimmer. For the first time in years, she felt like… herself again. What had been done to her had been heinous but she had, in some way, convinced herself that she had gotten used to it. Now, like getting over a cold you didn’t even know you had, there was a weight that had been lifted. 

She took a deep, cool breath, and cried.

Tav was around her neck, too relieved for anything more coherent than a need for proximity. They laughed. 

“What did you say to Selûne?” Karlach asked.

“If I’m honest,” Shadowheart replied, “I only managed about four words before she finished the prayer for me. I rather think she likes us.”

“Well,” Astarion said. “I do believe a thank you is in order.”

Karlach stood up and walked over to him. “Astarion, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but… thank you.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I owe you my life.”

“So about my reward–”

“That hurt like hell, and you’re a prick,” Karlach finished with a smile, and shoved him back into the harbour. 

[cwritesforfun]

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader: Second Chance

Prompt: Apply to be foreign exchange student & you tell longtime bff Harry Styles about it! He however is drunk when you call cuz he broke up with his gf. You like him as more than a friend, but he doesn't know. You go over to help and start mumbling nonsense talking about how there is somebody for everybody. He realizes you're talking about yourself and and makes fun of you. You leave hurt. You leave for your semester abroad and don't talk at all. When you arrive home, Harry is there and is happy :) He confesses that you were always there for him and he didn't realize it. He was afraid to contact you because he thought you were mad at him.

Y/N = Your Name

Masterlist

Y/N's POV

When my professors mentioned a possible semester abroad, I was giddy with excitement. I loved to travel and this was the perfect opportunity for it. Not to mention, college was something that I really enjoyed and the chance to further my education somewhere else was amazing.

Fast forward 2 months, I got accepted and planned to travel to study in Spain. I was so excited! I decided to share my news first with my longtime best friend, Harry Styles. I mean I may have a crush on him and have had one for the past 10 years, but I haven't told him yet. I mean when will I? Eh probably never. I call him and he answers.

((Phone Conversation)) H - Harry Styles     Y - Y/N Y - Hello? Harry? H - H... hey Y/N! Y - What are you up to? You sound a little groggy maybe or have you been drinking? H - Maybe. Could you come over? Y - Of course I'm on the way. Good timing on the call because I wanted to come over anyway. H - Well good. ((End Of Phone Conversation))

Hmmmmm someone seems a bit out of it. I guess I should really go see what's going on. He only lives 10 minutes away, so it's not bad of a drive.

I arrive and head to his door. I knock and he opens it. I walk inside and see his apartment is a bit of a wreck. What is going on?!? His place is never messy. He's one of those clean freaks.

He stumbles over to the couch and lays down. I carefully walk around the piles of trash and sit next to him on the couch.

I run my fingers through his hair and ask "So what happened to your place, Harry?" He answers "I was angry and sad. I broke up with Cynthia earlier today. A few months ago, I heard a rumor from Niall that she cheated on me and I don't know why I didn't just trust him automatically and break up with her there and then. Instead I just stayed with her. I don't think I did it for the sex or because we looked good together. I think I did it because I hated being called a player and wanted to prove people wrong. All I want is someone to love forever. Someone who I can call mine and dote on all day everyday. Now I'm alone and I just know I will be single forever." No no no! He did not just say that!!!!

I immediately snap "Sit up!" He sits up and looks at me confused. I exclaim "Harry Styles, you will not end up alone. Do you hear me?" He smirks and asks "Why do you know that?" I answer "There are roughly 7 billion people in this world. You've only dated like what maybe 3 people. That is so minuscule compared to how many people are still alive. Your person is out there somewhere maybe you've met them or maybe you haven't. When you meet that person, you will love them and they will love you. You will both cherish each moment spent together. You will be so happy and you will forget all about stupid little Cynthia!"

He smirks again and asks "Any suggestions on who to date now?" To answer or to not answer... Hmmm... I shrug and he cackles. His body starts rocking back and forth as his face breaks into a smile. I ask "What's so funny?" He answers "You... you have no suggestions. I mean come on you could've said yourself. But then again, I don't think I could ever date you. I already know you and part of the fun in a relationship is learning about your partner. I also wouldn't have someone to talk with about my relationship. And if we ever broke up, we'd never be the same again. Maybe we would lose touch and hate each other. I could never risk that. We would never work out. Sorry." Ohhhhhhhh ok. So he rejected me. Yup. Cool cool cool. I nod and say "So I'm gonna clean your living room then I'm going to go home. I'm so tired and just want some sleep." He nods and lays down on the couch. He replies "Thanks." I then clean his place and leave his apartment.

I go back to my apartment and my bff/roommate, Angelina, is curled up watching her crime shows on the couch. I tell her what happened and I cry.

The next day, I pack my bags and head out. Peace out America! See you in 3 months!

Harry Styles' POV Fast forward 3 months to the summer after Y/N’s semester abroad ...

I heard about Y/N's semester abroad from her best friend and roommate, Angelina. Apparently Y/N had come to my apartment to tell me she was leaving town, but instead I rejected her and she never told me. Yeah real smart thinking Harry. I shouldn't have been so mean to her. She has always been there for me and been someone I can always count on. I don't know what I'd do without her in my life. Actually I would have done not so well because she hasn't spoken to me since she went to Spain and I've been a bit of a wreck. Niall snapped at me a few times got screwing things up and you know he's right.

Y/N has been back in town for 2 weeks and I'm super nervous to go see her. I'm afraid she hates me and will not let me tell her how wrong I was. I was so wrong to reject her, to kick her out my life, and to not speak to her for so long. I lowkey hate myself.

I picked up a single pink rose and am wearing Y/N’s favorite outfit that I wear. She told me one day that if I wore this outfit, I could get anyone to date me. Let's hope it works on her.

I pull up to her house and get out. I knock on the door and her mom opens it. Y/N’s mom exclaims "Oh hi Harry. Good to see you again. I heard some not so nice things happen between you and my daughter. I hope you're here to fix them." I reply "Yes ma'am I am here to fix my mistakes. I was horrible to your daughter and I hope she allows me back into her life again." She replies "Lovely. Well she's out back. Don't let her know I let you in. Okay?" I nod and walk inside.

I walk to her back door and I see her reading in the hammock. I slide open the door and close it behind me. She glances up at me then looks back to her book. I walk over to her and sit on the ground next to the hammock. I exclaim "Hi Y/N." She looks at me and says "Hi Harry. What's up?" I say "I need to talk to you." She replies "Ok I'm listening." I nod and start "Sooooo as you know, I treated you like trash and we didn't talk for 3 months. I would like to say Y/N, from the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry. I am sorry that I laughed at your feelings. I'm sorry we didn't talk for 3 months. I'm sorry I rejected you. After I sobered up, I realized you have always been there for me since we became friends. You've cared for me after every breakup and cheered me on after every win I had in school. Being without you for 3 months was horrible. Niall snapped at me quite a few times for how I treated you. I know that we can't erase what happened and I might not deserve a second chance. But if maybe you think I deserve one, I'd love to take you out on a date."

I see her crying and I move closer to her. I wrap one of my hands around hers and I cup her cheek. I wipe away her tears with my thumb and say "Love, stop crying. You're beautiful and wonderful. You're amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Even if you say no to me, that's fine. I would love to remain friends with you, Y/N. I can't just go without you in my life completely." She sniffles a little and replies "Are ... are you sure?" I ask "Sure about what? Dating you? Because I've never been more sure about something in my life." She smiles through her tears and kisses me on the cheek.

Y/N asks "And what about what you said that night?" I ask "What exactly did I say? I mean most of it was drunk nonsense." She answers "You said that you couldn't date me because part of the fun in a relationship is learning about your partner. Plus you wouldn't have someone to talk with about our relationship. And if we ever broke up, we'd maybe lose touch." Ohhhhhhh I answer "I don't care about any of that anymore. I know you as a friend, but I don't know you as a girlfriend, so I will still be learning more about you. I can always talk to other friends about our relationship and girl advice. If we ever break up, I hope we can remain friends. As I said, I want you in my life whether you are my friend or my girlfriend."

She smiles and says "I would love to go on a date with you, Harry Styles." I smile and kiss her on the cheek. She smiles and asks "Why did you take so long to contact me if this is how you felt?" I answer "I was nervous about how how you would react. I was scared that you would still be mad at me or that you would want nothing to do with me." She replies "Awww Harry. That's cute. I will admit that I was mad at you for a little while and I was scared as well to contact you. I wanted to talk to you about Spain and school, but I thought you would be pissed at me." I reply "I wouldn't have been mad at you. You did nothing wrong. You were brave and kind and perfect. I was drunk and stupid." She laughs and says "You're so complimentary now that we've confessed our feelings." I reply "Baby, you better get used to it."

................................................................................... THANKS FOR READING!!!

Masterlist

[mermaidsirennikita]

What are your favorite Scottish historicals?

I recently did a recommendation list on Instagram!

However! To get more detailed...

My favorite Scottish romance novels as a collective are probably the first four Mackenzie books in Jennifer Ashley's Mackenzies & McBrides series (listed in order of publication, would recommend reading in order, they're all bangers):

The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie. This one is famous for featuring an autistic hero (ahead of its time) who ends up basically asking the heroine, a widow who's recently come into some money, to have an affair with him after he warns her off of marrying a tool. It's supposed to be this purely physical thing, but it gets deeper (... as does he ...) while also introducing his somewhat insane family.

Lady Isabella's Scandalous Marriage. The artistic brother decides to win his wife (who's been estranged from him for three years) back. It's a great example of a marriage in trouble book, where there are several reasons they broke up but most of them lead back to him just not being ready to be a good partner for her. And he has to prove that he's learned!!!

The Many Sins of Lord Cameron. The single dad brother sets out to solve a Mystery with this widow he had a near-thing with years ago, and they end up starting an affair, but his emotional wounds from his first marriage haunt the relationship.

The Duke's Perfect Wife. An all time favorite of mine, the asshole oldest brother mega alpha everyone hates ends up running into his ex-fiancee again... after which he's like "I am remarrying and it's gonna be her" (he got married briefly after they broke up, it's part of his tragic backstory)... and also she's a girl reporter and approaches him like "Oh hey, an anonymous person is sending me nude photos of you and it could ruin your political career :D". A FABULOUS second chance romance with two leads in their thirties (harder to find in a historical than you'd think), tons of passion, and the zaniness I want from this series. Jennifer Ashley excels at making you believe her couples are perfect for each other, and this one is the best in that realm to me.

I've read the subsequent books in the series, up to book #8, and I'd also recommend Rules for a Proper Governess (a stern lawyer takes on a street urchin who's recently started stalking him as his governess because she's the only one who can wrangle his two kids, and workplace harassment ensues) and The Stolen Mackenzie Bride (throws back to the ancestral generation, takes place during the Jacobite Rebellion, love at first sight between the rakish youngest Mackenzie brother and an Englishwoman engaged to another man, very star-crossed).

I also love Monica McCarty's Highland Guard series, which is a medieval Scottish series about Robert the Bruce assembling a group of dudes with Special Skills. Favorites include:

The Chief. The stern leader of the group ends up being tricked into marrying a woman he didn't want to marry for political purposes, is emotionally withholding but sloooowly falling in love. Also he has two kids from his first marriage that we NEVER SEE, which I found hilarious.

The Hawk. The rakish seafaring pirate-y one picks an Irish noblewoman out of the water and is like "Welp, I guess we have this random girl now". She's uptight, he's wild and incapable of committing, he bangs her on a raft in the middle of a storm to soothe her lmao

The Ranger. The one with insane sixth sense powers ends up undercover behind enemy lines (the enemy also being the man who killed his father) and ends up falling for said enemy's daughter

The Viper. The grouchy one with Woman Trauma ends up on a journey with a woman he has Mad Beef with, hate turns to love...

The Recruit. The New Guy sleeps with the woman he was supposed to marry, but he didn't know it was her and he basically said he'd keep sleeping with her after he married, and she went "you shall not cheat on me with me" and dipped. A few months later, they run into each other again. He realizes she's pregnant, he won't have any kid of his be a bastard, he forces her to marry him lmao

When a Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare is obviously a classic that everyone should read, includes accidentally making up a fiance who is real and being forced to handfast with him. Also romantic lobsters.

Maya Banks writes really good medieval Scottish books. I've only read a couple so, but I really loved Never Seduce a Scot, which has an arranged marriage situation between two people from rival houses... But the hero doesn't realize the heroine is deaf, which makes him worried about taking advantage of her. She's determined to make it clear that he is NOT.

Elisa Braden's Midnight in Scotland series is really fun if you want a pure romp! I also loved When a Girl Loves an Earl, which is about a zany heroine tricking the big Scottish hero into marrying her lmao. And he's covered up his Scottish accent after years of being Englishified (it's an issue the book touches upon nicely, I think) so she doesn't even realize he's Scottish until he's taking her TO SCOTLAND.

But yeah, otherwise definitely check out that post!