#the lighting in this scene is SO soft… makes him look so gentle and radiant. beautiful boy

[jimmyspades]

[heavenlytouches]

Can I request Edward's mate adopting a little baby boy? She knew the mother who passed in childbirth and didn't have any family. I could see the ladies of the Cullen clan just jumping into Grammy/auntie mode. 😍😭 Please and thank you!!!

Hello dear! Thank you so so much for a request! Also I apologise for not being active, college will kill me sooner or later TwT but let's get writing ^^

El <3

Edward Cullen- baby fever

⋆.ೃo0

FEM reader

<3 (SFW)

TW- none

Edward's mate adopts a baby

MOTHER! reader

Edward Cullen

You had always thought that love took on many forms, but nothing prepared you for the tidal wave of emotion when you cradled the tiny bundle in your arms.

The sweet little boy, barely a year old, was soft and warm, his small fingers curling around yours. The moment you spotted him at the adoption agency, tears of joy had filled your eyes. Perhaps it was fate that had led you to this child- one born of heartbreak, yet bestowed upon you as a radiant possibility for love.

When you informed Edward of your decision to adopt, his golden eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

Edward Cullen, the gentle vampire, had always shared his heart with you, and in that warm kitchen under the soft glow of the pendant light, he enveloped you in his embrace.

“You’re going to be the best momma.”

He whispered, his voice a melodious sound that wrapped around you like a soft blanket. How could you not fall deeper in love with him in that moment?

As you settled into the rhythm of motherhood, it became evident that you weren’t the only one enchanted by the baby’s presence. Alice, Rosalie, and Esme, the beautiful members of the Cullen clan, transformed into the most loving aunties one could possibly imagine. It was a surreal sight, witnessing the three graceful vampires practically bounce with delight as they shared their excitement over the newest addition to the family.

“Can we pick a name? I want to help!”

Alice chirped one afternoon, her eyes sparkling like sunlit diamonds. Her childish enthusiasm added a sprinkle of magic to the cushiony living room filled with laughter and warmth.

You smiled at her.

“I was thinking about calling him Jacob. It was his mother’s father’s name.”

You could see a fleeting shadow cross Edward’s face, but as ever, he quickly masked it with a tender smile.

Alice squealed.

“I love it! Jacob, little Jake! So cute!”

She began bouncing around the room, her excitement infectious, and before you knew it, she was pulling you along to the grand piano in the corner, attempting to come up with a sweet melody to welcome the baby officially.

Rosalie had an uncanny ability to go all-in on anything related to kids, despite her elegance. She grinned ear to ear as she conjured up images of little Jake and her in a garden of flowers, where she would play princess with him.

“Oh, I can’t wait to make you a little prince for all those tea parties, Jake! You will love pink lemonade!”

Rosalie declared, her soft laughter echoing off the walls.

Esme, the nurturing matriarch, offered you a warm cup of tea while knitting a tiny blue sweater for Jacob.

“You know, dear,”

She said, her voice soft and kind,

“being a mom is about finding the beauty in every little moment. Cherish every giggle, every tear. You’ll be incredible- just like Edward.”

You turned to Edward, who was sitting on the couch, watching the lively scene unfold around you with that tender smile you adored. He was so sweet, so patient, sometimes you almost forgot he could do more than love; he could express his love in countless ways.

The way he looked at you, love shining in his eyes, reassured you that Jacob would grow up in the warmest environment, surrounded by family.

That evening, with twilight wrapping the Forks sky in hues of blue and gray, you found yourself nestling on the couch, Jacob asleep on your lap, tiny breaths making you feel inexplicably whole. Edward perched beside you, radiating calm in the way only he could.

“Can you believe how much they all love him already?”

You whispered, running your fingers along Jacob’s soft hair.

Edward chuckled softly, his tone filled with a sweetness that made your heart swell.

“It’s hard not to love him. He’s part of us now. A little bundle of joy- and he brings out the best in everyone. Even Rosalie and Alice.”

You both shared a laugh, each recalling the beautiful chaos earlier, with Alice orchestrating a mini tea party while Rosalie insisted that they had to have princess crowns fairy lights and all.

“Let’s not forget Esme trying to convince me about baby food recipes,”

You countered, grinning at the memory.

Edward leaned closer, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It was charming watching them all jump into granny and auntie mode. It’s like they’ve been waiting to spoil him their whole lives.”

You sighed contentedly, comfortably wrapped in the warmth of family, in Edward’s affection, and in the profound joy that Jacob had brought into your lives.

As the moonlight spilled into the room, creating a gossamer glow, Edward turned to you, his expression earnest.

“You know, there’s something magical about this. Bringing Jacob into our lives, it’s not just parenting; it’s creating a story together. A beautiful tapestry interwoven with love.”

You looked deeply into his golden eyes, feeling every pulse of love between you two.

“And I couldn’t imagine sharing this journey with anyone but you,”

You replied, your heart swelling with emotion.

Just then, Jacob stirred in his sleep, lifting one tiny hand toward Edward, who instinctively caught it in his fingers. The irony was not lost on you; a vampire, capable of extraordinary things, captivated by the simplest yet most profound gestures.

In that moment, you knew- love had taken root in the most unexpected places, and together, your little family was bound to grow, not just in number but in an unbreakable bond. No matter the challenges, you would face them together, and every heartbeat, every giggle from your son would echo through the years as a reminder of the purest form of love you had created.

As the night stretched on, you felt something extraordinary- love brimming in your heart, like soft laughter floating through the twilight air, uniting Edward, Jacob, and you in a world that felt just right.

I'm so so sorry but I had to name him Jacob xD

Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!

I love you guys so much <33

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[chosaraki]

The Revelation of a Father .

—————————————————————————

Jinrang instinctively kneels, extending his arms. He doesn't know how to react, but something inside him makes him hold the boy, almost carefully, as if he were touching something fragile and precious for the first time.

Jinrang With a hoarse voice, still trying to process the truth."Are you... are you really my son?"

The boy, in his innocence, just laughs and answers with simplicity:

Son With a smile, pointing at him."Mom said I'm just like my father. You're my father, right?"

Jinrang looks at you, his eyes seeking confirmation. He, the man who never showed weakness, seems more human than ever at that moment. You just nod your head, a soft smile on your lips.

You Calmly, but firmly."Yes, he's yours. I found out just before you were taken. I didn't want you to carry that weight while you were inside. I thought it would be better to wait until you were free."

For a moment, silence takes over the room. Jinrang, still holding the boy in his arms, looks away from him again. He observes every detail - the bright eyes, the features that remind so much of his, and the youthful energy that seems so far from the dark world in which he lived.

JinrangWith a low voice, almost a whisper."Three years... I missed three years."

You notice the regret in his voice, but before he can sink into this guilt, you approach and put your hand gently on his shoulder.

You With a comforting tone."You didn't miss it, Jinrang. We are waiting for you. He is your son, and now you have the chance to meet him, to be part of his life."

The boy, realizing the seriousness on Jinrang's face, puts his small hands on his father's face and smiles.

Son With the typical sincerity of a child."Are you sad? It's my birthday, Dad! You have to smile!"

Jinrang, taken by surprise, can't avoid a small smile. He laughs softly, almost incredulously, and shakes his head.

Jinrang With a slight laugh, squeezing the boy against him."You're a smart boy, huh? He's already giving me orders."

The boy laughs and hugs Jinrang's neck tightly, while you watch the scene with teary eyes. It's a moment you've dreamed of for so long - seeing the two together, finally.

——————————————-

After a few moments, Jinrang finally gets up, still holding the boy. He approaches the table where the cake is decorated, with the candles waiting to be lit. He watches everything carefully: the balloons, the gifts, the little details that show the effort you put into making your son's birthday special.

Jinrang Furling to you, the firm voice, but with a touch of emotion"Did you do all this by yourself? All this time... You held everything while I was away."

You give a slight smile, crossing your arms, while trying to keep your composure.

You With a soft tone."It wasn't easy, but he gave me strength. He's as stubborn as you, you know? But I've never really been alone. He's all I needed to move forward while you were away."

Jinrang doesn't respond immediately, but the gratitude in his eyes is clear. He knew you were strong, but now he understands how much. He puts his son on the floor, who runs to get one of the toys, and turns completely to you.

Jinrang Giving a step towards you, your low and sincere voice."I should have known. You've always been stronger than anyone around me. But now... now we're together again. And I won't lose anything else."

He puts his hand on your face, his touch firm, but gentle. It's a rare gesture for a man like Jinrang, but he wants you to know how much he values what you did.

You Holding his hand, looking into his eyes."So, let's do it together. But today is not about us. Today is about him. Let's give him the best birthday of all."

Jinrang nods, and for the first time in a long time, he seems to relax. He joins you and your son at the table, helping to light the candles and sing happy birthday. The boy is radiant, and you realize that, despite all the difficulties, this moment is worth every sacrifice you made.

——————————————-

After playing with the new gifts, you and Jinrang sit in the living room. He watches his son sleeping, a look of determination in his eyes.

Jinrang Firmly."I'll protect him. I'll protect you both. He will have the life I never had, and no one will take it away from me."

You know Jinrang is determined, and now, with his family by his side, he not only has an empire to rebuild, but also an even greater reason to fight.

—————————————————————————

This expansion focuses not only on emotional revelation, but also on strengthening the bond between the two of you, with Jinrang recognizing the weight of what he lost and swearing to be a present father. The contrast between her strength as a mother and his new role as a father adds depth to the scenario, showing that family dynamics are as important as power in the underworld.

—————————————————————————

[koyagifs]

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮 𝓘𝓷 𝓐 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 「X」

⤷ pairing : wooyoung x reader ⤷ au : non idol! | strangers to lovers | slow burn ⤷ genre : fluff | crack | angst ⤷ word count : 859 words ⤷ summary: and they live happily ever after ⤷ warning: the final chapter. Can you hear me crying in the distance? i love this couple so much :(

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ➜ @chanceonceli @soso59love-blog

── .✦ The night sky shimmered like a velvet tapestry adorned with countless stars, their gentle glow cascading down onto the joyous celebration below. The sound of laughter and music filled the crisp air, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. Lanterns hung from the surrounding trees, their golden light casting a warm glow over the scene.

A lively crowd encircled the newlyweds, their cheers and applause rising into the night like a symphony of happiness. The warm glow of string lights illuminated the scene, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. Yn stood at the edge of the dance floor, radiant in her wedding gown, a masterpiece of delicate lace and flowing fabric that shimmered with every subtle movement. The veil draped gracefully down her back, her smile brighter than the stars above.

Wooyoung stood at the center of it all, his eyes fixed solely on her, filled with admiration and love that seemed to make the world around them fade. He extended his hand toward her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he waited patiently.

"Come here," he said gently, his voice carrying over the music and chatter, meant for no one but her.

Yn’s heart fluttered, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. Her gaze met his, and with an elegant step forward, she reached out, placing her hand in his. The crowd erupted into another round of cheers, their excitement echoing into the night as the newlyweds stepped onto the dance floor together.

Wooyoung pulled her close, his hands settling on her waist as hers rested on his shoulders. Their movements were fluid and synchronized, as though they’d danced this way a thousand times before. The music softened, and the moment became theirs alone.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.

Yn blushed, her smile widening as her fingers tightened slightly on his shoulders. “And you’re perfect.”

His grin widened, and without warning, he twirled her into the makeshift dance floor, the two of them laughing as they spun. Guests clapped and cheered for the impromptu performance, their delight adding to the magic of the evening.

Yn’s laughter softened as the music faded into a slow, romantic melody, the world around them dissolving into a blur of warmth and happiness. Her cheeks flushed, her heart fluttering as Wooyoung held her close. His touch was gentle but grounding, his forehead resting against hers as if anchoring them in this perfect moment.

"I love you, Mrs. Jung," he whispered, his voice low and filled with adoration.

Yn’s breath hitched at the sound of her new name, a smile spreading across her lips that reached her sparkling eyes. “And I love you, Mr. Jung,” she replied softly, her words brimming with all the love and devotion she felt for him.

The crowd around them seemed to fade further, their cheers and clapping now a distant hum. It was just the two of them under the glowing lights and endless night sky. Wooyoung brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as he gazed at her like she was the only person in the world.

“Are you happy?” he asked, his tone tender yet playful.

Yn nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. “I’ve never been happier.”

With that, Wooyoung leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. The world erupted into applause again, but neither of them cared. In that moment, all that existed was their love, a bond unbreakable and eternal.

── .✦ A whine escaped the small child that rested in your arm as Wooyoung looked at her in shocked. " Appa is telling you a love story and you're going to start crying?"

Yn chuckled softly, rocking the baby gently in her arms as Wooyoung looked at the little one with mock disbelief. "She's probably just overwhelmed by all the love in the air," Yn teased, smiling warmly at Wooyoung.

The baby cooed, her little hands reaching up, as if trying to grasp the love they were radiating. Wooyoung leaned in, brushing his lips against the baby’s forehead. “I guess I’ll have to save the rest of the love story for later, huh?”

Yn laughed, her heart full, as she looked at Wooyoung, the man she had once thought was out of reach but now held so dear to her heart. "She might not understand now, but one day, she'll know that her parents’ love is the strongest thing there is."

Wooyoung smiled softly, his gaze never leaving Yn. "As long as she grows up knowing that we love her more than anything in this world, I think she'll be alright."

With that, the night stretched on around them. The celebration of love continued, but for Wooyoung and Yn, the most important thing was the family they had built together. The little moments of joy, like the baby’s soft cries, were just another reminder of how far they had come—how much they had grown and how perfect their little world had become.

And as the stars twinkled above, they held each other close, ready for whatever came next.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Laughter

Word Count: 682

Warnings: None

Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The quest to elicit genuine laughter from Malleus Draconia had become more than a mere challenge; it had evolved into a journey of connection, a dance of two souls weaving through the tapestry of daily life at Night Raven College. Each day, you presented a new act in the comedy you hoped would crack the stoic exterior of the Dragon King.

Your attempts were many and varied. One day, you tried to tickle a chuckle out of him with a cleverly crafted joke that played on the words of an ancient Draconic spell. Another day, you staged a humorous play with the help of the drama club, complete with exaggerated costumes and over-the-top performances. You even were able to orchestrate a playful riddle, clever and intricate, designed to appeal to Malleus’s intellect. Another day, you enlisted the help of the mischievous students, setting up a harmless prank that left Malleus with a surprised chuckle, though not the laugh you sought.

As the week drew to a close, you found yourselves walking together in the moonlit gardens, a place where the hustle of the college seemed like a distant memory. The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of roses and the distant sound of the nocturnal choir of crickets and frogs.

Each failed attempt was not a setback but a step closer to understanding the enigmatic Dragon King. But as the week progressed, so did the bond between you. Shared smiles, exchanged glances, moments where your hands brushed while walking down the corridor—all these tiny threads wove a connection that was palpable, a silent understanding that grew with each passing day.

It was on a night adorned with a velvet sky and a radiant moon that you found yourselves strolling through the enchanted gardens. The air was cool, carrying the scent of jasmine and moonflower, the garden bathed in a soft, ethereal light.

“You have been quite persistent,” Malleus remarked, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to blend with the rustling leaves. “I must confess, your dedication to this quest has been… quite endearing.”

You smiled, a plan forming in your mind. “Maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong,” you mused. “Maybe it’s not about the act, but the moment.”

You looked up at him, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. “Laughter is the melody of the soul, Malleus. I want to hear yours.”

He considered your words, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “And what makes you believe that you can draw it out?” he asked, his gaze meeting yours.

“Because,” you replied, your voice filled with conviction, “even the sternest of hearts can find joy in the unexpected.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the gravel crunching softly underfoot. You spoke of small things, inconsequential things, and yet, in those moments, they felt significant. The conversation flowed like a gentle stream, natural and unforced.

And then, as the song “Teitur - One and Only” played in your mind, you found the moment you had been waiting for. With a twinkle in your eye, you recounted a humorous anecdote, one that was personal, heartfelt, and unexpectedly funny.

Malleus listened, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. But as the punchline approached, you stumbled, not in your words, but quite literally over a wayward vine. The surprise on your face, the grace with which you regained your balance—it was a scene straight out of a play, and it was real.

The laughter that followed was rich and warm, echoing through the garden like a melody. Malleus’s laughter, unrestrained and joyful, filled the night air, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

“I stand corrected,” he said, his laughter subsiding into a series of delighted chuckles. “You have indeed found the right moment, and it was… perfect.”

The two of you paused, the laughter still hanging in the air like a cherished melody. In that moment, under the watchful eye of the moon, you realized that laughter was not just a sound—it was a connection, a shared language that transcended words.

[gh0st-author]

mastermind.

Pairing: William James Moriarty x Reader

Summary: What you needed was a chance— an opening. A cause to draw him out, to approach him. But that would be easier said than achieved. Impossible even.

Tags: fluff, a little bit suggestive but nothing much, Liam is a softie

A/N: so i was listening to mastermind by taylor swift and i just realized how much it fits liam, so this brainrot you see here was born. also this is set in america somewhere in those 2.5 years after the billy incident but before they return to london. my thought process was that liam and sherlock were doing some undercover work at this ball. additionally i decided to have Liam keep his eye here man's been through enough...

The moment was like something straight out of a fairy tale. An instant that you can't quite place; a dream that would unravel and slip from your grasp and glide through your fingers if you only tried to look too close at it. Gentle candlelight tracing abstract patterns over the entire hall, making the entire scene seem magical. Delicate music from numerous hidden instruments filling the air with yearning, so beautiful it could make your heart ache. The muffled sounds of secret whispers and the rustling of numerous exotic fabrics joining the cacophony of sounds, not to overpower but to add to the overall mystique and intricacy of the night. And him. Him— this radiant and golden being, akin to an angel, luring you in, stealing your coherence.

Your eyes were on him as soon as he'd entered the room, followed by another dark-haired man who you couldn't make yourself glance at for the life of you. Because doing that would mean taking your eyes off him. Elegant frame gliding through the mass of people, pale golden strands swaying with the movement, awakening an urge in you to trace your hands through them, to find out if they were as soft as they looked.

This feeling washing over you, filling your every cell, clouding your mind more than the glass of expensive wine in your hand, was new. Completely and irrevocably unfamiliar. And that terrified you tremendously. How could one person have such an effect on you, before you'd even exchanged so much as courteous greeting?

He must've felt your attention on him— how could he not when you were burning holes in the back of his head— and his head turned towards your hiding place, the little nook you slotted yourself in as to avoid unnecessary prattle of the ladies around you.

Oh...

You felt as if all of the air had been leached out of the room in that one moment, then instantaneously rushed back in leaving you light-headed. Bewitching. That was the only word adequate enough to describe his face, his eyes. His features were timeless, elegant, touched by the innocence of youth but also impossibly wise at the same time. And when his sharp scarlet gaze connected with your own, what little thoughts you had— however trifle they might've been— evaporated into mist and smoke. Those were eyes that never missed anything, that appeared to gaze directly through your flesh and blood and straight into your soul, seeing every detail, every dirty little secret. Yes, this man was absolutely breathtaking; utterly captivating.

You averted your gaze, feeling exposed and not wanting to stare too hard. This night had just become infinitely more interesting to you. But, despite all of the stars aligning and conspiring to place you in the same room with such a magnetic and compelling presence, you had no conceivable way of conversing with him. In truth, you were only here in the first place because of your cousin, and this ball was nothing more than just a chore to you who was supposed to be her chaperone. You had no connections and no reason to seek him out, no matter how much your heart yearned for it. Even now, you could see his outline floating in the corner of your vision, surrounded by numerous important individuals.

You sighed, and deciding against hiding for now, you smoothed out your gown and abandoned your little nook. It was due time to try to mingle with the dense crowd.

Like his shadow, a phantom, you traced his steps around the room, trying to find an opportune moment to etch just a little bit closer. Wherever you went you glimpsed him from the corner of your eye, always near, but always just out of reach. As soon as one group had finished with him, he was already onto the next. He was everywhere—  anywhere you looked— making your desperation rise. It was a known fact that our psyche worked in contradictory ways; the more one tried not to gaze at something or think of something, the more the mind made them a prisoner of exactly those thoughts. The echo of his silhouette followed you around, always just a tad bit too far away.

Positively exhausted by the constant ongoing battle between your mind and your heart, you retracted back to the faraway corner of the room, choosing instead to behold the art and numerous artifacts nestled there. What you needed was a chance— an opening. A cause to draw him out, to approach him. But that would be easier said than achieved. Impossible even.

Deep in thought, one painting caught your attention. It was a magnificent piece, truly, but you were not able to decipher what exactly about it ensnared you so. It appeared no more extravagant than any other painting in the room, yet you couldn't look away from it. It felt as if it was pulling you in, calling to you.

"Captivating work, is it not?"

The sudden voice to your right made you startle, and you were forcefully ripped away from your mussings. You almost didn’t need to look to know who the person who'd just spoken was. After all, your body was tingling in his mere presence, every cell coming alive simultaneously, vibrating with hope now that he was the one who sought you out first. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, you pivoted to regard the stranger. "I'm sorry?"

"That painting." He flashed you a gentle smile, his unusual-colored eyes regarding you with interest as he approached to stand beside you. "It's a true masterpiece. The artist uses patterns and geometry to create a most aesthetically pleasing piece, painting illusions to trick the viewer into thinking they can actually step into a two-dimensional space. It's rather extraordinary."

His voice was soft and melodic, slightly amused. Your eyes caught at the slight upturning of the corners of his lips as he spoke, unable to look away. It was either that or get lost in his knowing gaze. "Are you an artist?"

"A mathematician, more accurately." You heard a wistful note in his voice. "I used to teach at a university in England, but sadly, I don't anymore." He gave you another smile, this one a little dimmer than his last one. "Some circumstances got in the way. But that is neither here nor there. I take it you are someone's chaperone tonight. If I had to guess, the young lady's over there."

You followed his gaze and saw your cousin a little further away, engaged in a conversation with some friends. How did he know that?  "I am. Thank you for your insightful deduction Mr.–"

"Liam. Call me Liam."

"Liam..." You whispered his name like a prayer on your lips, tasting how it felt on your tongue. "No title? Is it short for something?"

"No... just Liam. Classes and titles mean nothing to me." You couldn't quite read the emotion in his voice as he said that, layers of something more— perhaps dejection— intertwined beneath a calm reply. "And what shall I call you, Miss–"

"Y/N" You held out your hand to him, and Liam, never breaking his eye contact with you, raised it gently to his lips, leaving just a breath of a kiss there.

"Y/N..." He too sounded like he was sounding out your name, familiarising himself with it as if he planned to continue saying it many times more. "The pleasure is mine."

That one touch, that one kiss against your gloved hand, was enough to light a fuse within you. You felt flushed all over, both too hot and wrecked with chills at the same time. You needed to know more about this man. He was like a Venus fly trap, a mystery you wanted to solve, an equation you wanted to assess. "Did you come here alone tonight?"

"I am accompanying my good friend on some business tonight. He is the black-haired individual currently giving us the burning stare." And sure enough, when you followed his gaze, you spied the gentleman in question, the one who followed Liam when he first entered the room, giving you both suspicious glances. Looking at him now, no longer blinded by the brilliance of the mysterious mathematician, he was a handsome individual, tall and all angular features, but that was overshadowed by the arrogant eyebrow he raised at you as if contemplating to terminate your further involvement with his friend.

"Have I done something to upset him?" You haven't even met him, yet he seemed to not be pleased with you.

"No, he's just paranoid. Unnecessarily." Liam narrowed his gaze at him, and they appeared to be exchanging a wordless string of arguments between them, after which the man shrugged his shoulders and flashed you both a sheepish smile, putting his hands in his pockets and turning away to talk to some other nearby attendant. Liam's attention was back on you now. "Excuse his behaviour, he has a lot on his mind tonight."

You, too, had a lot on your mind tonight— mainly, how to slip away somewhere where you could be alone with him, away from the eyes of everyone so you could continue your conversation uninterrupted. Suddenly, a thought permeated the fog in your brain. It wiggled through and lodged itself right in the forefront. An opportunity to get him alone... This was it. If you could use this to your advantage, you could make an unfortunate situation into something worth remembering. "Don't worry. I don't mind—"

You cut your sentence off, bumping into him purposely. Your glass almost slid out of your hand, deep burgundy splashing over his coat. He caught you, a true gentleman, as you widened your eyes and flew into a flurry of apologies, as you quickly set down your— now empty— glass. "Oh my God, I am so sorry! I don't know what happened, I must've been more inebriated than I thought. I'm so sorry!"

Liam was a picture-perfect opposite to your hysteria of movement. He calmly grabbed his coat and slid it off. The dark burgundy stain had bleed through the outer layer onto his white shirt beneath, and he let out a chuckle as he inspected his coat and the stain on his chest for the damage. "Don't worry, it was an accident. Such things happen." He sighed at the coat. "Although, I suppose I can't show myself in front of our business partner tonight like this."

"Please let me do something!" You pleaded, doing your best to show him how remorseful you were. It wasn't all for show, you did feel kind of awful for staining his clothes. "I have a handkerchief, I can help you. Please, follow me." If you fail to plan, you plan to fail— or so they said. Life was about making the most out of unexpected situations, and you were not about to waste this opportunity that had been given to you. You grabbed his arm and tugged him along with you as you slinked by the walls and made your way out of the hall.

You entered the first room you saw— a study, it appeared— and pulled him with you to sit down on the couch. Quickly taking out the handkerchief, you grabbed the coat from his hand and started dabbing the stain. Luckily, his coat was dark, so it wouldn't be too noticeable in the candlelight. All the while, Liam said nothing and just observed you with an unreadable gaze.

"I expected you to be more cross with me," you said after some time, finally daring to glance in his direction. You hoped he wasn't, otherwise, this plan was all for nothing.

That gave him a pause, and he blinked at you, as if you said something unexpected. "I am afraid I don't understand. This was just an accident that could happen to anyone. There is no reason for me to be cross. Were you, perhaps, afraid I would be?" He smiled at your frown, and you averted your gaze back to the task at hand. A contradictory enigma. This coat was of very expensive material, yet he made no complaints. Chose kindness, instead of anger. You were definitely right to get this mysterious man alone, even now you felt the inescapable draw of his presence.

"It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both," you murmured absentmindedly while still gently dabbing away on the stain, doing your utmost to try to get rid of it.

"Oh, you are familiar with Machiavelli's works?" He leaned back, placing his arm on the armrest of the couch and resting his jaw on the back of his hand.

"I've read some here and there. Why? Are you an enjoyer of his books?" You raised the coat up to the light and observed it. This had to do for now until he could get it cleaned.

"I too have read them here and there." His gaze was sharper now, both cunning and amused. It made you shiver— but not unpleasantly, you realized with a start. "I find his takes on the authority and aristocracy most fascinating."

Laying the coat aside, you scooted closer to him, the couch making you all the more aware of your proximity, the dim lights making it all seem more intimate. This close you could even smell a faint tinge of his cologne, mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol you spilled. This turned out to be a perfect excuse to touch him, to feel him. Everything went precisely by design.

Dizzy from the heat of his body, now so close to you, you slowly started to dab at the stain on his shirt. "You truly are an enigma, Mr. Liam, are you aware?" He only continued to observe you with his slight smile, the rising of his eyebrow the only indication that he was listening. Taking that as an invitation, you prattled on. "You seem like someone of noble birth, yet you appear to disprove of the class system and disregard any titles. You seem awfully intelligent, and yet I have not seen your name in any field of research, not even math." You took this opportunity to smooth out his collar, fingers gently grazing the skin of his collarbone. "And you approached me, and were able to accurately ascertain things about me I gave you no indication of." You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly glanced down again, resuming your attempts at trying to clean up the wine.

You felt him let out a little contemplative hum, as he leaned closer to you. "You are an enigma as well, Miss Y/N. You have followed my every move since I appeared here, yet refused to approach me the entire night. You still don't seem to trust my words, but you have not yet inquired into anything I've said. It is almost as if you enjoy this little game." He raised his hand, and you watched with bated breath as he caught a strand of your hair and twirled it around his finger. "Tell me, is it fun trying to uncover my secrets?"

Hands falling into your lap, the stain and handkerchief long forgotten, you felt light‐headed again. Like a snake dancing to the magic flute, both your body and your mind were charmed, following his every move. This little plan of yours might be working better than you anticipated. If you actually survived until the end of this game, of course, because if he kept looking at you like that, giving you his undivided scrutiny, you doubt you could last. "You followed me here without question as well." You managed to whisper out. "Did you perhaps have some ulterior motives with me too, Mr. Liam?"

He gave a little tug at the lock of hair wrapped around his digit. "I wonder..." His sharp eyes were now unfocused and thoughtful as if he himself couldn't really understand his actions. "Whatever compelled me to do that?"

You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, wondering if this was such a smart idea now. Maybe you shouldn't even be here, shouldn't entertain your wicked thoughts. Your draw to him was too powerful, dangerous even. It felt like too much and too little at the same time as if you could ignite and burn and blaze down to smithereens with a single word from him, drown with a single touch.

At that moment, the door slammed open with a loud creak, cutting off your train of thought. Both of you reflexively jerked back from your compromising position, the moment gone and magic ruined. The room now felt infinitely colder without his proximity, the couch impossibly wide. Your startled gaze fell on the culprit who had barged in so suddenly, finally able to breathe without Liam's cologne tampering with your thoughts. It was him, the man Liam introduced as his friend earlier. He glanced sharply at you both, eyes staying on you for a heartbeat longer than necessary, studying you. Contemplating. You could see the same mysterious intellect you saw in Liam in him, the same razor-sharp mind, the same murky and vague past. His eyes widened imperceptibly as if taken aback by your inspection, then filled with something akin to grudging understanding. Then he swiveled towards Liam and pointed behind him. "Liam we have to go. Work's calling."

A sigh, no louder than a disturbance of air left him, and he rose, giving you a remorseful look. "Sorry, dear. Seems like our time is up. Hopefully, I will see you again one day, under more fortunate circumstances." He quickly donned his coat, adjusting it to best cover up the stain, then with a hurried gait followed his friend out the door.

"I am sure you will." You whispered, as you watched him leave, him only turning back once to shoot you a conspiratorial grin. As if saying to keep what happened here a secret.

Checkmate, you thought. You will be seeing him again, you were sure of that. There was just something about him that sang to you, some kind of kindred warm flame, like fire burning in a hearth. But in his calm gaze, you also caught a glimpse of something else beneath, another fire, blazing hot, ardent, and dangerous. All of it made you even more curious, made you crave him more. You had to arrange a meeting with him again.

You couldn't lose.

Truly, nothing moved faster than time. It was outstanding, mind-boggling, how it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. And now, two years later, you found yourself with the hard wood of the door of digging harshly into your back as you leaned back to let Liam deepen the kiss. The soft rustling of clothes and your quick breathing were the only sounds permeating the room of Liam's and Sherlock's shared apartment in Brooklyn. Barely any light illuminated your two silhouettes, only the moonlight and a rare street light outside of the window providing any illumination.

Gasping for breath, his lips still chasing yours, you attempted to put some distance between you. "Wait, what about  Sh—"

"Do not worry." He whispered, still eager to continue. "Sherlock is already on his way to London as we speak. So is Billy. No one will bother us."

"That means we have to leave for London soon, too." You gripped his shirt in your hand, raising on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. "How convenient that we are free to spend our last night here as we wish." Pulling back, you looked back at him, face full of mirth, lips splitting into a cheeky grin.

Cupping the back of your neck, he gave you one last kiss before leaning away. "Call me an opportunist."

Gently, his hand slid down to your waist as he moved you from the door and laid you achingly slowly on the bed. Your own hands moved from their position on his chest to intertwine in his hair. Soft and exactly as silky as you thought it would be two years ago. On that magical night. A night so much like this. His gaze was soft, and melancholy, as if he too was remembering that time. Most days, you were scarcely able to wrap your head around the fact that so much time has passed and that you've won the affections of such an ethereal being. That you yourself were able to set the wind to your sails that first night, to not just play the role of a pawn, but to be the king instead.

He regarded you in silence for quite some time, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your waist, your hips. His face was unreadable, haunted. "I would ask what you're thinking about, but I'm terrified to know."

He let out a quiet chuckle and rested his forehead against yours. "Oftentimes, I think night is purer than day; it is better for thinking, loving, and dreaming. Maybe I was always meant to dwell in the night, to plot. At night everything is more intense, more true."

"Enough of your philosophy." You grumbled. "If you wish to scheme and think you can do that with Sherlock." Using your hands in his hair, pulled his face closer to yours, your lips barely brushing. "I think, currently, your mouth could be much better occupied."

He gave you a deep kiss, making you forget how to breathe, then bit your lower lip teasingly. "I never scheme. You must be confusing me for someone else" So saying, he chuckled. "But I must admit, I enjoy seeing you so flustered for me."

Well, two could play that game. When his lips traced a path from your kiss-swollen ones downwards to your neck to shower it with countless marks you'll surely have to cover up tomorrow, you decided to entertain yourself as well. "What if I told you that none of this was accidental?" It was nothing more but a breathless whisper, a silky melody in the darkness of the room. His ministrations didn't stop, but you continued, eager to fluster him at least once, even if it meant sharing your biggest secret— a secret that you had sworn you would take to your grave. "Were you aware that the first night I saw you I decided that nothing was going to prevent me from getting closer to you? You were like a blazing flame and me but a simple moth drawn to your brilliance. So I conspired to get you alone." It was getting harder and harder to form coherent thoughts when his kisses felt so hot, almost burning and branding your skin wherever they landed, but you persevered, tightening your hold on his hair and enjoying his slight shudder. "I... purposely spilled wine on you that night." You swallowed against a sudden lump in your throat. "I knew I had to lay down the groundwork if I wanted to catch your attention, knew I had to set it all up like dominoes." A sudden nibble on the junction of your neck and shoulder made you gasp.

"I was aware."

You were so thoroughly distracted by the feeling of his lips on the skin of your neck that it took a few seconds for his words to register, and when they did your whole body froze. "Wait... You knew?!"

You felt his lips pull into a smirk against your skin and he slowly pulled away, his eyes dancing with barely concealed mirth. "Darling, I knew the entire time."

You were rendered speechless. Shock. Disbelief. The feeling of the world freezing in its tracks. That's all you felt as you stared wide-eyed at the man above you. Your body felt weightless and stone-heavy at the same time. What does he mean: "He knew the entire time?"  Every encounter that you two had raced through your mind as you tried to remember if he ever showed any indication of being aware of your little game. There were none. "You're lying," you stuttered out through your suddenly dry throat.

His smirk was downright devious now. "On the contrary, dear. Not only was I aware of your schemes— I was the one who orchestrated them. From the very start, this has been a chain reaction of countermoves on both sides."

"But then-" Every world felt like sandpaper as you tried to make sense of the situation.

"Steering Sherly in your direction under the guise of talking to some aristocrats the first time I saw you, just so I could be in your field of vision the entire night. Purposely asking around about that painting I knew nothing about to start a conversation with you, then letting you bump into me so you could have an excuse to talk with me in private. Accidental meetings. All actions of a desperate man, who had been completely and utterly enamored ever since he first laid eyes on you." Each sentence was followed up with a kiss— to your neck, to your cheek, to the corner of your lips. One of his hands slowly made its way upwards towards your face from its place around your waist. Still in shock, all you could do was lean into his hand when he gently cupped your jaw. "But it was incredibly enjoyable, this little game of ours. I never believed that there would be someone who would go to such lengths for my affections." His gaze softened and he traced your cheek with his thumb. "My sweet, vicious mastermind."

You felt your chest squeeze under the crushing wave of pure love that washed over you. This man— this brilliant, extraordinary, incredible, magnificent, breathtaking man— he was yours. And he had been from the beginning. Or, more accurately, you'd been his. For you weren't the one who had been setting everything up since your first encounter– you were the one being strung all along. Happy tears prickled at the corners of your vision and you couldn't help but beam up at him. "I guess this is checkmate. It's my loss."

With a matching smile of his own, the hand on your cheek then slowly moved down to your chin, and he pulled you into another kiss. You closed your eyes and melted into it. It was painfully sweet— maybe the sweetest kiss you two have ever shared.

Looks like you were no match for the former Lord of  Crime after all.

[alennadon]

(I really wanted to make a fic regarding to this scene in the " The Last Movie", so enjoy :)), btw its my first time writing a fic, so I'm sorry if there's grammar errors)

"SUNSETS WITH YOU"

The gentle sound of waves echoed through the warm air, blending with the soft breeze as the couple stood on the beach. The vibrant sunset painted the sky in hues of orange and gold, its light dancing over the ocean's horizon. Their bare feet sank into the soft sand, and their hands intertwined, radiating warmth between them.

Naruto turned to glance at Hinata's serene profile, his gaze shifting downward to the sand, a frown etched on his face.

“Hinata…” he murmured softly.

“Yes?” Hinata turned to him, her expression curious and concerned as she noticed the worry in his eyes.

Naruto hesitated, gently squeezing her hand. “I’m worried…” he admitted, his voice heavy with uncertainty.

“Worried about what, Naruto?” she asked, her heart sinking as she searched his troubled expression.

Looking down again, Naruto confessed, “I’m scared I won’t be a good father. I didn’t grow up with parents... I don’t know if I’ll be able to give our child the care they deserve.”

Hinata’s chest tightened at his words. It pained her to see him doubt himself, knowing how kind and capable he truly was.

“Naruto,” she said gently, squeezing his hand and urging him to meet her gaze. “Look at me.”

He raised his eyes to hers reluctantly, the worry still evident.

She smiled warmly, her voice steady and reassuring. “You know, it’s my first time becoming a mother too.”

Naruto blinked, surprised by her words.

Hinata continued, her voice soft and confident, “Everyone has their firsts, Naruto. Just like when you started as a shinobi. You didn’t know how to create even one shadow clone, but through perseverance and never giving up, you mastered it and made thousands. Parenting is the same. We’ll learn as we go, together.”

Her smile widened, filling the air with warmth. “And I believe in you, Naruto. I know, you’ll be an amazing father. You’ve always had a way of bringing hope and happiness to others, and I know you’ll do the same for our child. You’ll give them the love and life you always dreamed of having yourself.”

Naruto’s eyes glistened with emotion, her words cutting through his doubts. He nodded, overwhelmed with gratitude.

Hinata’s gaze softened as she added, “I want our children to experience the life we wished we had—a life full of love and peace. And with you by my side, I know we can make that happen.”

Naruto felt his chest tighten, a lump forming in his throat. He looked at her, bathed in the warm glow of the sunset, and thought, She always knows the right thing to say.

Fighting back tears, he inhaled shakily and pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Pressing a kiss to her temple, he murmured, “Thank you, Hinata. For everything.”

She blushed but smiled, leaning into his embrace.

Naruto rested his chin gently on her head. “You’ve given me so much—a home, a family, and endless warmth. I’m so grateful. I promise I’ll always be by your side, forever.”

Hinata looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and placed his hand on her growing belly, a tender symbol of their love.

Naruto’s face lit up with joy, and he leaned in to kiss her. “I can’t wait, Hinata!” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.

“Me too, Naruto,” she replied, her smile radiant.

As the waves whispered against the shore and the breeze wrapped around them, the couple stood together, their hearts intertwined, basking in the warmth of the sunset and the love that bound them.

[ggjunkie]

Second Chances

Chapter 2

You’re practically shoveling the scrambled eggs into your face, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. Each bite is exaggerated, the soft, fluffy eggs filling your mouth to the point of discomfort. When you finally chew and swallow, it takes some effort to get it down. The only reason you sometimes ate like this was to really annoy Velvette, as it always grossed her out. Considering how she tried to set you up at the club with a random guy last night, you’d say she deserved it.

Velvette’s disgusted glare burns into you from across the table, but you choose to immerse yourself in your phone, avoiding her gaze. Her reaction is almost immediate, a sharp intake of breath and a muttered complaint about your table manners.

“Do you have to eat like a caveman?” she grumbles, pushing her own plate away slightly as if to distance herself from the sight.

You ignore her, scrolling through your feed with feigned interest. The table is set with two other plates, clearly prepared for her other two roommates. When they didn’t join, you breathed a sigh of relief. Although you can tolerate Vox and his ever-inflated ego, Val is a whole other story. If he weren’t friends with Velvette, you would’ve decked him in his bald face forever ago.

At the thought of Val, your fork scraped against your plate, creating a harsh noise that made you cringe. The grating sound echoed through the room, drawing an annoyed glance from Velvette. You accidentally exited out of the Reddit page on your phone, groaning in frustration—you were halfway through that story! Admittedly, it wasn’t very good, so you instead clicked open your Instagram, hoping for a distraction.

The first photo that greeted you made you choke on your eggs. Your throat constricted, and panic set in as you struggled to breathe. Velvette was quick to react, smacking your back—definitely harder than necessary—until you finally managed to cough up the offending piece of egg.

Gasping for air, you glanced up to see Velvette fixing you with a pitying stare. It would’ve usually made your skin crawl with indignation, but you were too focused on boring holes into your phone screen. 

The first thing on your homepage was your friend’s most recent post. She was posed with a small group of your mutual friends, throwing up a pair of peace signs. Normally, your first instinct would be to instantly heart the post and comment something about how beautiful and gorgeous she looked. Instead, your heart clenched at the sight of your ex standing next to her.

His skin was freshly tan, most likely from their recent trip to the beach if your friend’s previous posts were any indication. The backdrop of the ocean and the warm sunlight bathed everyone in a golden glow, making the scene look like a postcard from a perfect vacation. You scanned the faces in the photo, your eyes inevitably landing on Adam.

Thankfully, he wasn’t pressed up against anyone else in the picture—you didn’t think you could handle it if he was already with someone new. However, that wasn’t what was bothering you. What was bothering you was the fact that he was sporting a wide grin, not a care in the whole world. His smile was radiant, the kind that used to light up your darkest days. Now, it felt like a slap in the face.

You jump, feeling a pressure on your back. You swing your head to see Velvette has moved from her original position to rub between your shoulder blades. The gentle pressure was meant to comfort, but right now, you couldn’t deal with anyone else’s company. The well-meaning touch only heightened your sense of suffocation.

Without a word, you push your chair out, narrowly avoiding hitting Velvette, and rise abruptly from the table. Your phone fumbles in your hands, slipping through your fingers before you practically throw it onto the table. The clatter of the device echoes in the room, punctuating your sudden departure.

Velvette’s mouth opens, possibly to call after you, but you don’t give her the chance. You storm out, each step heavy with pent-up frustration, and slam your bedroom door behind you. The sound reverberates through the apartment, a thunderous punctuation to your emotional upheaval.

A few seconds later, a pound resonates from the wall that separates your room from one of the boys’. It’s an irritated response to the noise, but you don’t care. Fueled by anger and misery, you slam your palm against the wall in return, the impact silencing any further protest.

You throw yourself onto your bed, the familiar comfort of the mattress doing little to soothe your turbulent thoughts. Burying your face into your pillow, you let out a muffled scream.

–

Breakups are hard. Like, really, really hard. Ice cream wasn’t the only remedy for a broken heart, however.

As it turns out, weed works pretty great too.

Velvette’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she presented a pretty pink cart to you. The packaging was almost whimsical, a stark contrast to the bleakness that had enveloped your days. The sight of it made your brain go through a full restart and reboot. It was as if your mind had momentarily crashed, a blue screen taking over before slowly dissipating.

“When—where did you get this?” you stammered, staring at the cart in disbelief.

Velvette laughed, a sound that cut through your gloom like a ray of sunshine. “Been saving it for a rainy day. Figured you could use it now.” With a casual flick of her wrist, she tossed the cart towards you.

You caught it, fingers curling around the delicate design. It was almost too pretty to use, the vibrant colors and intricate patterns making it seem like a small work of art. But the promise of temporary relief was too enticing to resist. “Vel, you’re a lifesaver,” you murmured, feeling a rush of gratitude.

Velvette grinned, leaning back on the couch with a satisfied look. “I know. Now, let’s get you out of that funk.”

An hour later, you’re both curled up together in a blanket. You’ve dug your head under Velvette’s chin, nuzzling into her neck. She’s loosened up, currently giggling at whatever random cartoon she managed to turn on the TV. All you remember is something about gravity and falling before you practically molded yourself against Velvette’s shape, the warmth of her body providing a comforting anchor.

The haze of relaxation and the soft glow of the television create a cocoon of warmth and comfort around you. The world outside the blanket feels distant and unimportant. The THC has blurred the edges of your thoughts, turning them soft and pliable. You can’t really think straight, but you know something is missing. Or someone. And suddenly, Adam’s image melts itself into the back of your eyes. His smile, his laugh, the way he used to hold you—it all comes rushing back, stark and painful against the numbness.

Your heart clenches, and it quickly flashes to the blaring reminder that y’all broke up. The memory of his anger, the hurt in his eyes, and the sound of his voice telling you to leave replay in your mind like a haunting echo. A giant pout forms on your face as your bottom lip juts out involuntarily.

Velvette, sensing the shift in your expression, peels you away from her and studies your face. Her eyes narrow with curiosity, and when she spots the pouting, she bursts into laughter, a light, tinkling sound that contrasts with the heaviness in your chest. You stick your lip out even more dramatically in response, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness.

“What are you sad about?” she asks, her voice tinged with amusement.

The question makes you giggle uncontrollably, and then suddenly you’re silently cackling, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as you slap your knee. The absurdity of it all seems to magnify your amusement. Velvette watches you with a mix of curiosity and disbelief before her own laughter erupts, joining in with yours. She grabs you by the shoulders, her grip surprisingly gentle despite her enthusiasm, and starts shaking you playfully in sync with her bouncing shoulders.

Your laughter echoes around the room, the sound mingling with the background noise of the TV. You feel a warm, comforting haze of joy and contentment, the kind that only comes when you’re so high you forget your problems and just enjoy the moment.

In the midst of this, you feel your phone buzz on the couch’s end table. You reach over Velvette with a bit of a struggle, your movements clumsy and exaggerated. It takes you a few tries, your hand missing the phone more than once as you fumble around. Eventually, you manage to grab it, your fingers closing around the device with a satisfying click.

You curl up, bringing your knees to your chest and holding your phone as close to your face as you can without seeing double. The screen is a bright blur of colors and notifications, but you squint through the haze to see who’s reaching out to you.

You find yourself unlocking your phone and clicking on Instagram, your fingers moving almost instinctively. The app opens straight to the search tab, and before you fully process what you’re doing, Adam’s Instagram page is pulled up. A pang of guilt hits you for breaking your own promise not to check his page, but curiosity has already won.

Your eyes are drawn immediately to his bio, and you freeze. Even when you were together, Adam had always kept his bio blank. He would brush off questions about it with a shrug, claiming he never had the desire or inspiration to write a blurb. It was one of those little quirks of his you’d gotten used to, an odd but endearing part of him.

So why does he have someone tagged?

Somewhere in the back of your brain, there’s a flicker of recognition at the Instagram handle, but your hazy state makes it difficult to fully grasp. You circle your thumb around the handle, clicking on it with a sense of detached curiosity. The screen redirects you to someone else’s page, and suddenly, the phone feels like it’s slipping out of your grasp. It tumbles to the floor with a soft thud, the impact snapping you back to reality.

Your lip begins to wobble uncontrollably, and before you know it, you’re feeling warmth spreading across your cheeks. Your hand comes up slowly, almost as if in a daze, and you pull it away to find it glistening with fresh tears. The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks, and the tears start to flow more freely.

Velvette, who had been laughing and enjoying the moment with you, immediately notices the shift in your mood. Her eyes widen with concern as she takes in the sight of your tear-streaked face. She scrambles to her feet, moving quickly to your side. Her usual composure is replaced by frantic energy as she kneels beside you, her hands reaching out to comfort you.

“What’s wrong? Did you smoke too much? Oh god, it’s been forever since you last smoked—of course you smoked too much! I swear—”

You cut her off, your voice barely more than a ragged whisper. “Why does he have Eve tagged?”

Velvette’s frantic movement halts abruptly. Her eyes widen in confusion as she tilts her head. “What?”

You point a trembling finger towards your phone, which is still lying on the floor where it fell. “Adam has his ex tagged in his Instagram bio.”

Velvette’s frown deepens as she processes your words. She carefully pulls you into a tight hug, her arms enveloping you in a firm, comforting embrace. The warmth of her body against yours is both grounding and soothing.

As you bury your face in her shoulder, you can feel the truth settle over you, as if her embrace has confirmed what you feared.

[starreadssstuff]

bonds - Nanami Kento

warnings- fluff because I promised it after that heart breaking angst fic I wrote 😭. nothing, ummm... physical contact? its hugging so idk. As always LMK!

authors note- Heyyy that angst fic I wrote was so sad and I promised that id make a fluffy one for you all so I got some confessions in this and I really like it! enjoy the story dudes! love, star 💜

It was a sunny afternoon, and the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School was abuzz with activity. Students were chatting and laughter filled the air as they enjoyed their break time. Amidst the lively atmosphere, Kento Nanami found himself searching for a quiet spot to gather his thoughts.

As he walked down the corridor, he caught sight of you sitting on a bench, engrossed in a book. The sight of your serene expression and gentle smile caught his attention, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you. With a small smile on his face, he decided to approach.

"Mind if I join you?" Kento asked, his voice calm and soothing as always.

You looked up from your book, surprise lighting up your eyes before a warm smile graced your lips. "Not at all, Kento. Please, have a seat."

He sat down beside you, and a comfortable silence enveloped you both. The soft rustling of pages turning and the occasional breeze were the only sounds that filled the air. Kento glanced at your book, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"What are you reading?" he inquired gently.

You held up the book for him to see, and it was a novel he recognized. "It's one of my favorites. Would you like to borrow it?"

Kento's lips curled into a grateful smile. "I would be honored to read something you enjoy."

From that moment, your breaks became a routine of sharing quiet moments together. Sometimes you would bring books to exchange and discuss their stories, while other times you would simply enjoy each other's presence, finding comfort in the silence. Over time, those breaks evolved into stolen glances and gentle touches that spoke volumes without the need for words.

One day, as you were sitting together beneath the shade of a tree, Kento took a deep breath and gathered his courage. He turned towards you, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and adoration.

"(Y/N), I wanted to tell you something," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Spending time with you has made my days brighter, and being around you feels like finding a missing piece of myself. I... I care deeply for you."

Your heart fluttered at his confession, and a radiant smile bloomed on your face. "Kento, I feel the same way about you. You bring so much warmth and happiness into my life."

A wave of relief washed over him, and he reached out to hold your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The connection between you two felt effortless, like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, your relationship grew stronger. Kento became not only your partner in exorcisms but also your confidant, your rock, and your best friend. The two of you navigated the challenges of the jujutsu world side by side, finding solace in each other's arms during the tough times and celebrating the victories together.

And so, beneath the cherry blossom trees in full bloom, Kento pulled you into a warm embrace. The petals gently fluttered around you, creating a picturesque scene that mirrored the love blooming between you.

"I'm grateful to have you in my life," Kento whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "With you by my side, I feel like I can conquer anything."

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "And I'm grateful for you, Kento. Together, we'll face whatever comes our way."

In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of each other's love, you knew that your journey with Kento was just beginning. And as you shared countless more quiet moments and cherished memories, your love for each other grew deeper, creating a bond that would withstand the tests of time.

[hwablelights]

Autumn Leaves

Hongjoong strolling through a park. And maybe, just maybe he finds what his heart is missing.

750 words

It was a crisp autumn afternoon, the kind where the air felt alive with the scent of falling leaves and distant bonfires.

Hongjoong, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his wool coat, wandered through the park. He inhaled the crisp air while strolling around and the world seemed to slow down just enough for him to catch his breath.

As he strolled along the path, his thoughts drifted from one thing to another. A song idea he couldn’t quite finish. The upcoming schedules. But today, there was something calming in the air, something that seemed to tell him to stop thinking so hard. To just be.

He found a quiet bench beneath a tree,  Leaves falling like golden raindrops all around him. As he sat down, he let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes for just a moment. It was then that he heard a soft laugh, bright and musical, cutting through the stillness of the park.

He looked around. Not far from him, he noticed a playful little puppy bouncing through the leaves, its tiny tail wagging with pure joy. The puppy's owner, a beautiful young woman with soft brown hair, stood nearby, laughing softly as she watched her furry friend. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Hongjoong couldn't help but smile at the peaceful, heartwarming scene.

He watched as she laughed again, the sound making his heart skip a beat. It wasn’t the kind of laugh you could ignore, it was full of life, completely unselfconscious.

She was radiant in her simplicity, the kind of beauty that didn’t come from trying, but from just being.

For a moment, he hesitated. What was he supposed to do? Approach her? Say something? He wasn’t exactly the type to make bold moves, especially not with strangers. But there was a pull, something about the way she lit up the moment around her that made him want to know her.

Hongjoong watch her for a moment, captivated by the gentle interaction between the woman and her puppy. The pup, a small bundle of energy, tumbled through the leaves before running back to the woman, who crouched down to ruffle its fur. Her laugh was light, matching the soft rustling of the wind through the trees.

As the puppy bounded closer to Hongjoong, curious about the new face, the woman stood and called out: "Sorry! He's really friendly."

Hongjoong chuckled, crouching to pet the excitable puppy.

"No problem. He's adorable."

He glanced up at her:

"I'm Hongjoong, by the way," he added, standing up and offering a friendly smile.

The woman smiled back, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Areum."

She glanced down at the puppy.

"And this little troublemaker is Mila."

As they stood there, talking about the puppy, the golden leaves continued to fall around them.

Hongjoong found himself relaxing into the conversation as Areum told him stories about Mila's adventures in the park.

The way she spoke, with her eyes sparkling in the fading autumn light, made the ordinary day seem special. Mila, now calmer, sat contently at Hongjoong’s feet, occasionally nuzzling against him for attention.

“You must come here often,”

Hongjoong said, noting how familiar she seemed with the park and its surroundings.

Areum nodded, glancing around.

“Yeah, it’s our little escape. Mila loves it here, and I do too. There’s something peaceful about autumn, don’t you think?”

Hongjoong agreed, taking a deep breath of the cool air.

“It’s my favorite season. Everything feels alive in a different way, even though the leaves are falling.”

They shared a quiet moment, watching as a little wind sent more leaves swirling around them. Hongjoong felt an unexpected sense of calm in Areum’s presence, as if he had known her far longer than just these few minutes.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again,” Areum said with a soft smile, breaking the comfortable silence. She looked down at Mila, who was playfully tugging at her leash, ready for another adventure.

Hongjoong grinned. “I’d like that.” He reached down to give Mila one last pat, feeling it strange to leave yet.

Areum gave him a small wave as she started to walk away, Mila trotting happily beside her.

“See you around, Hongjoong.”

As she disappeared down the path, Hongjoong stood for a moment, watching the autumn leaves continue to drift through the air. He couldn’t help but smile, already looking forward to the possibility of another chance encounter in the park.

Author's notes:

Wrote this for my bestie ❤️

[ofmermaidstories]

hello! i’m sorry for the long ask ahead, i just have a LOT to say 😭

so I read surrender, your bakugo fic, around last year. i was new to the fandom then so i didn’t really know the characters too well, i wasn’t that deep enough into the story to be fully invested in anything. and neither was I a huge bakugou simp (I like the villains more, shamefully admits it) BUT one thing was for sure – you got me hooked. you pulled me into the bakugou simp train, and i didn’t expect that at all. effortlessly, you made me fall in love with him, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m letting it all out. I just think you deserve to know how much i appreciate your story! but anyways, I read the fic again because its just been a tough time for me, and I went back to it because I remember it made me happy, and I’m so glad that its still able to make me feel giddy and blushing like its my first time reading it.

first of all, i think surrender is an absolute masterpiece. i don’t have enough words for it (I’m literally rambling rn) but PLEASE. PLEASE ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT YOU HAVE WRITTEN SUCH A MAGNIFICENT STORY AND THAT THROUGH THE SCREEN, your stories bring joy and warms people’s hearts. I think your writing style is so beautiful, emotional, passionate, and absolutely intelligent. I love the way that the story is written in the characters’ voices yet still keeps the writing format of storytelling, I love the way that you’re able to flesh out their characters so much. these characters, the ‘reader’, they all feel real. they feel like real people, and having to witness the development of their friendships, the familial bonds between the heroes and us, and the bond with bakugou – its stunning. its so human, its so gentle, and its captured me by the heart. i think you have a gift for writing, and please never ever think otherwise.

i also love how the dialogues just feel so personal. every word they speak is so them, its right down to who they are as who you wanted them to be. i love how you made YN so kind, and that her quirklessness, while a source of insecurity, didn’t really hold her back from being the radiant sunshine she is. i am a SUCKER for grumpy man x sunshine sweetheart tropes, and you absolutely nailed this one. LIKE HOLY SHIT I was actually rolling in bed and kicking my feet in the air whenever bakugou just stares at us when we smile. i can actually feel reader’s radiance, such a gentle soul. and bakugou – I’m not gonna lie, I think bakugou is challenging to write (I’m a writer myself, and I struggle writing him in romantic aspects.) I definitely get the appeal of bakugou in smut one shots, but I always wondered, “how would bakugou fall in love?” how is he like when he’s in love? we all know bakugou isn’t gentle (reference to a scene where bakugou feels he is too explosive in YN’s flower shop, and I can’t help but feel its a good allusion to how YN grew up in a soft, peaceful, quiet yet fragile environment as a quirkless person and Bakugou struggles controlling his explosiveness, and I just love how he’s trying so hard to take care of it – to tackle gentleness with gentleness) and it made me wonder how Katsuki is like in soft romance. and you just... blew my mind. really. your fic made me see bakugou in a new light, a beautiful new light, and I love him. I’m in love with everything about your story, and I look forward to reading more of your works because I just want to say that you made me fall in love with fanfiction all over again.

i’ve been reading anime fanfiction since 2021, but life was tough. i eventually stopped reading and drifted away from fics, but now I’m getting back to it and I cannot thank you enough for lighting this fire in my heart. that your stories are making me feel warm and I’m able to love something again that I once cared about. also, side note, but I think you’re such a cool person! I’ve seen your interactions, and your art is so stunning. it looks so soft, so gentle, and if someone asked me how I want love to be, I would say I want them to look like your art.

but yes, thank you for sharing your fics with us. its really beautiful, I wish I could say more because it really does mean a lot to me, and I want writers to know how appreciated they are. I’M SORRY THIS WAS TOO LONG, BUT LIKE THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH PLS HAVE A NICE DAY AND I HOPE ALL YOUR WISHES COME TRUE

Also an addition BUT I WANT BAKUGO SO BAD 😭😭😭

anon. 🥺 you’ve had to wait a while for this reply, and i’m so sorry—but i kept lingering over this message, like a little talisman. warding off insecurity and doubt. 🥺 i wanted to like—idk! give you a response worthy of your attention. reflect the sparkle and warmth of your words back to you. 🥺 especially considering how you mention that things have been a little tough, lately. 🥺

i’m glad the fic could be a distraction—or something fun. 📖🌷 welcome aboard the bakutrain! lmaooo. he’s such a funny, particular character to be into, i think; like canonically he’s such a lout! a horrible little gremlin! and with villain stannery it’s understandable, like, they’re villains LMAO, you expect them to act and react in certain ways—but when a hero character is so consistently unpleasant? idk, it’s just fun LOL. but i guess that’s also the attraction, at the end of the day, right? 🥺 in the same way that the tension between good and bad is so important to villain characters and their stories, i think a contrary character like bakugou is so much fun in a romance—because how does he fall in love? 🥺 he treats everyone—villain, hero, civilian, peer or mentor—the exact same way, so what does it take to get him to let his guard down and like, idk, stop barking at people??? you’re so right; that passion of his translates so well to smut one-shots, where it can be so easily physical. it’s just—how do you make the leap from being in bed together to being in love??

this is why i love the grumpy x sunshine trope too, though. 🥺 i know it’s a trope built on exceptions (you’re the one that softens him up; you’re the one he shows that side to), but i just—idk! those exceptions bring such a great emotional payoff, with a character like Katsuki. i think of like, kiribaku or bakudeku as examples—they’re absolutely ships that also rely on another character to be emotional foil to Katsuki. 🥺

i’ve said this before and i’ll keep saying it forever, but Weeds/surrender’s Reader is my baby. 🥺 my favourite child. i’ve always had a soft spot for quiet girlies—people who aren’t explosive personalities or need to like, shoot for the stars. people who enjoy tending to their lives or the people around them. romance is so often (by necessity) filled with Big Personalities—characters who can move a plot forward with like, action or passion. but the reason i was so attracted to the idea of x Reader fics in the first place was the promise of wish fulfilment that came with it—and i wanted a gentler character to be apart of this world. 🥺 i wanted Katsuki, who’s so used to sizing people up and learns so late what it means to truly rescue people, in canon, to like… meet and see someone he otherwise might not. to meet and see and then choose, because there’s something amid his determination and his strength and his fury that wants and responds to the optimism and doubt and sincerity in Weeds. 🌷🪻🌿🪲

idk anon—your words were so kind. 😭 getting this ask meant so much. 🥺 i hope things get easier. 🥺 whether that means backup arrives, or the universe cuts you a break—whatever you need it to be. i’m glad you found your way back to fics; you deserve to enjoy them when things are calm, too, so here’s to the immediate future easing up and letting you read them in peace. 📖💕

[skzcoffeemachine]

Waited for this

genre : Chan, fluff

song : here always by seungmin

Chan felt like he had the answers to everything when he looked in her eyes.

They have known each other for 6 months now. their first encounter was nothing short of a movie scene. she was the cute volunteer dancing to 𝓘'𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 with the elderly in the old age shelter, he was the burnout boy who came to the countryside to get a change of scenery and ended up entranced by her.

Her radiant smile lit up her face with warmth and joy and her big beautiful eyes gleaming under the lights made him all the more intrigued , to find out about her.

they became friends - or maybe more - he knew he wanted to be more than just friends from the start.

the gentle beach breeze caressed her tan skin, blowing her shiny black locks from her face. he cannot help but stare at her, who was staring out into the horizon,enjoying the sunset.

"y/n"

she hummed in response, turning towards him, her eyes glowing with different shades of brown in the sunset.

he let out a small gasp and she noticed it, making him blush a bright coral.

"chan", she said as she reached up to sweep a strand of hair away from his face, " you did really good today".

she was referring to the gifts he and the kids brought for the hospice home. he always wanted to help the community in some way and that happened sooner because of her.

they would sit outside at night, talking about some of the deepest stuff ,he had never felt someone get him like she did.

moreover, she calms his mind, with just one smile, a pat on the head or on the shoulder, a fist bump. he was too scared to go over that and hug her, like he usually does with his members and friends. what if she thought it was weird? what if she distanced herself?

so, her unexpected touch made him feel ways he never thought he could feel.

before they both could understand what was going on, he leaned in and kissed her, this time for real and not just in his thoughts.

her lips were soft and warm. contrary to his worries that she would push him off, her lips parted slightly, deepening the kiss.

he pulled her in by her waist as her breath deepened.

it was the kind of kiss that made them realise how much they needed each other, the kind of kiss that halts every thought in one's mind.

as their lips part, she whispered in a hoarse voice, "you have no idea how long I've waited, Chan".

"tell me more", he giggled under his breath as their foreheads rest against each other.

A/N : this is like my first try at writing for people to see. Please be kindddd!!!

I was listening to..

And this whole scene started playing in my head, I tried to put it in words. Sadly, i could have written the kiss scene better, if i actually knew how. Hehe.

[kassiedoodles-xo]

The Forces Of Destiny — Part II :

"Lunar Dissonance"

— A fanmade ninjago season —

Word Count: 1298

Warning(s): none

The young Queen’s silence enclosed the monastery in thick uncertainty. Subdued footsteps filled the hallways, hushed conversations swirled in the air. Their words wandered around like ghosts. Present yet barely there. As if the entire building held its breath, withstanding the currents, desperately waiting for the storm to pass. Sunrises turned into sunsets, Yuki’s withdrawn emptiness persisted. She sat, staring at seemingly nothing like a prized collectors doll, her eyes devoid of any emotion, any purpose. Her soul fractured, leaving nothing but jagged pieces cutting further, pieces no longer fitting together. Thoughts echoed in the emptiness, flashes of her mothers reflection making her relive the moments, the pain, the fear. She simply existed.

Zane and Kai took turns diligently attending to her physical wounds, Morro keeping a vigilant watch; looking, hoping, for a sign of change. A spark. A glimmer. Anything. Everyone found themselves caught in a torturess web of training routines and unspoken words of concern.

On the third night the moon hung low in the sky, in its full glory it bathed the horizon in radiant silver light, it cast a mysterious glow; shrouding the courtyard in cosmic beauty. Yuki, seated upon the roof of the monastery, traced the glowing sphere with her eyes, becoming transfixed by its beauty. For the first time in days, she felt her shoulders relax, the satisfactory serene scene calmed her thoughts. She smelled the sweet night air, the tranquility soothing her aching heart. 

She found solace with the moon, feeling comfort in the embrace of the silvery companion. For Yuki, the moon provided warmth, a gentle reminder that light is always there even in the presence of darkness. She let the moonlight caress her soul, allowing the moon to bring peace, as if warm, healing hands held her face gently. The moon understood her, the everchanging celestial pearl showed a new face each night, always finishing a cycle. Always being able to start again. The tender radiance as loving as the presence of those closest to your heart. The silver friend washed away any shadows in the horizon and her soul, there was no need to fear the dark if the soft glow of the moon was there.

Unbeknownst to her, Sensei Wu sensed her presence atop the rooftop. The wise old man, his long beard flowing in the evening air, silently sat beside Yuki. He acknowledged the girl's serene demeanour, a part of him grateful she was able to find comfort, taking note of her affectionate contemplation of the stars. They shared the quiet rooftop, contemplating the moon and stars. 

Yuki hesitated under the starry canopy.

Was it time? Should I say something? What if Sensei thinks I’m insane? No… he’s lived for so many years, surely he has knowledge of this as well.

She spoke up, her voice a fragile whisper, crushed by the weight of fear.

“That morning… I saw my mothers face in the mirror that morning. Smiling. Twisted." She did not dare face her sensei, a long time friend of her late mother, fearing his reaction.

Sensei Wu, ever the wise and composed, couldn't stop the flicker of concern in his eyes. Subtle traces of distress etched lines into his skin, deepening the wrinkles as he processed Yuki’s revelation. His mind raced through the ancient scrolls of knowledge dating back to the beginning of time. Yuki’s heart raced, sensing a shift in the atmosphere, the gravity of the situation deepening. 

As if on command, the tranquility of the scene shattered; dark, thick rain clouds rolled in, covering the moon's radiance. The moon struggled to shine, its soothing light unable to reach past the clouds. The beautiful light now concealed in darkness, even with its best efforts to shine, the darkness prevailed. The night sky filled with unwelcome gloom and violent winds. The atmosphere was jarring, now a turbulous ballet of chaos as the winds asserted their dominance. The harsh winds tossed leaves in the air, pirouetting through the courtyard, the once tall trees now bowing in protest. The comfort of the moon was suddenly gone, leaving a grim feeling growing in the pit of Yuki’s stomach.

“Come with me.” Yuki could not read Sensei Wu’s tone, making it difficult to decode the underlying meaning of his words. Yuki had known Sensei Wu for long enough to realize he was masking his true feelings, his tone not betraying any information. It was evident by the slight clenching of his jaw and his furrowed brows that the situation does not have an easy fix.

Sensei Wu turned his back to Yuki, beckoning him to follow him to the meeting room. The gravity of the situation got heavier with each step, the crease in his forehead a faint testament to the unspoken information. The unease lingering in his eyes reflected the silent battle within him; torn between safeguarding the girl that his late friend entrusted him with, and confronting the sinister force that threatened the peace.

Sensei Wu gathered the ninja, the air heavy with anticipation and worry, their gaze shifting back and forth between their mentor and friend. Yuki felt their eyes on her, she attempted to move back and hide in the shadows, she kept her head down, unable to look her friends in the eyes. Sensei Wu unraveled an ancient scroll on the table, worn by time and use, the parchment aged and frail. The musky aroma of the old scroll spoke of its history.

“There’s something I haven't told you.” Sensei Wu began, his voice carrying the weight of ancient knowledge passed down to him from his father, all of the ninja instantly felt anxiety fill their senses. They shared puzzled glances, seriousness dawning upon them.

Was this to do with Yuki? Is it what she saw?

“The mirror that Yuki broke was a normal mirror, however, it was the reflection that was out of the ordinary” Sensei Wu explained, all eyes turning to Yuki as she read the ancient writing in the scroll, one of the few who was taught the dead language. “ There was a rift in the realm of magic, something or someone tore the fabric of time. There is something that does not belong in the realm.” he finished. 

“Wait wait, how do we know that from a singular reflection?” Cole asked, his confused expression matching the faces of his team mates. 

“Yeah I agree, I mean can we really trust everything these scrolls say? None of us except you, sensei and Yuki know the language.” Jay, ever the pragmatic one, questioned.

Realization hit Yuki as she finished reading the scroll, her eyes widened as her breath got caught in her throat.

“ It was my mothers reflection. Somehow the spirits of the former queens breached the confinement of the realm of magic.” Yuki spoke with a tone of apprehension, her words seemingly making the room grow colder.

“ I mean we fought ghosts before.” Kai’s uneasy laugh broke the silence. Sensei Wu’s eyes bore into him, a chill traveling down his body. 

“These are no ordinary spirits.” Sensei Wu began, his tone full of wisdom “ These Queens were all Elemental Masters of magic before Yuki. My own father, when he created Ninjago, gave the first Queen the magic as it was too much for him to control.” he finished, his memory tracing back to the queens he knew through his long lifetime.

“It says here that the realms weaves our reality with magic” Yuki mentioned, before continuing to read the dead language

“So, if they break completely free” Zane started, the robot scanning all possible information. “ The realm gets fully torn open and existence as we know it unravels completely.” Yuki finished, her voice sending a cold sweat down everyone's backs, a deafening silence embracing everyone in a cold, bitter realization.

&lt; Previous | Next >

♧Masterlist♧

Summary: A mysterious rift between time and magic tears the fabric of the realms. Yuki, the master of magic, the purple ninja and the queen of ninjago, must find the powerful spell to fix this. In an unexpected twist, the team is transported into the depths of Yuki's spell book. The ninja must navigate through the chapters and memories of all the queens, finding the thing that is jeprodizing peace.

In a risky race, the ninja must piece together fragments of memories to uncover the truth. Will they succeed in fixing the rift? Or will Dark secrets unravel a mystery that changes the fate of everything?

TAGLIST: (OPEN)

@shatteredhope123 @stupidgayartkid @crikkit-kitterton @queenoftasilk @spinjitzu-spy

Feel free to ask to be added to the taglist!

© This is the exclusive property of Aleksandra Niewiadomska. Do not claim as your own, repost on other sites or translate my work at all.

[athenasparrow]

No. 19 - Shadow | Jily Micro March

Thank you @jilymicrofics, for the lovely prompts xx

Read on AO3 | 797 words

Or cut for story that includes smut xx 👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼

“So we’re done,” James said tentatively, breaching a topic they hadn’t discussed in months.

The sun had set and the warm summer air blew a gentle breeze of relief. The sky was a deep shade of blue on the verge of blackening into night. The symphony of laughs, clinking glasses and music still rung in James’ ears even in the quiet streets.

“Yeah, we are,” Lily said turning to face him.

She looked radiant, James thought as his eyes travelled over the stunning woman beside him. Well, she always looked radiant. But tonight, resplendent in her flowing red dress as she walked the shadowed streets of Paris, she looked positively breath-taking.

It was fitting then, that such a divine woman be surrounded by a scene straight out of a romantic fairytale. The old, irregular stones of the alley were softly illuminated by the warm glow of the streetlights, the air was full of the sweet aroma of pastries as the chefs began their day at dusk, and the warm breeze ruffled through the trees making James wonder what precious secrets were being whispered between them.

Eight months ago they’d agreed to be friends, even though James’ body had been aching for her since they’d met. Sometimes he swore his soul was stretching right out of his body, just trying to touch hers.

But they’d had research to do. And moving the needle forward on viral solutions for glioblastomas had been important to both of them. So important they’d agreed to put aside their overwhelming attraction for one another so they wouldn’t end up in a mess.

But eight months later and James’ feelings were far from resolved. He’d felt them burning inside him, growing stronger each day. He had been attracted to her from the moment he met her, how could he not be, but eight months later he had her friendship, her trust, and was her closest confidant. 

And now, as they stood on a deserted street in Paris, their last fundraiser done, James could finally kiss her.

Her lips seared against his like he imagined lava would hit the ocean. He felt a burning mist deep down his body and settle deep in his heart. The moment between them ignited, the kiss deep and urgent, fueled by a hunger that had been building for too long.

Fuck she felt good.

He captured the moan that escaped her as he slid his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss and moving their bodies so he could press her flush against the wall. James kissed her with abandon, the lights and noise of Paris fading away as he felt the contours of her body, heard the softness of her sounds, and the met the feverish intensity of her lips.

Her legs squeezed around him as he hitched her up so he was holding her, hands around thighs, moving to press hot kisses down her neck.

“Shit, I’ve waited a long time for this” Lily gasped out as he licked a gentle circle behind her ear before dragging his teeth across her earlobe, giving it a slight tug at the end.

Her confession caused a rumbling laugh to unravel deep in his chest as he pressed his hips into her, groaning long and deep.

“It’s been eight months of torture,” James agreed, finding her soft lips again, unable to stay parted.

“Many unsatisfactory wanks in the toilets at work?” Lily asked tauntingly, as she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth.

James’ hold on her faltered. Her back slid down an inch from where she was pressed into the outside of some poor sods house.

“You know about that?” he asked, staring at her in horror.

“At least I know you’re vocal when you finish,” she whispered, grinning against him as she resumed their sensual kiss, ignoring his huff of indignation.

“And if it makes you feel better, your little indiscretions at work made me soaked,” she said huskily.

“Fuck” James murmured.

“I thought you’d like that,” she said, letting her head rock back against the house as her breasts rose up and down rapidly as she caught her breath. James moaned, showing her how much he liked it by pressing into her so she could feel him hard and aching; by slipping his hand up her dress and down her knickers, murmuring a quick curse when he found her dripping. He showed her when he dropped to his knees, pulling one of her legs over his shoulder and took a long lick of her hot centre. And finally, he showed her how much he liked her dripping, and how much he loved her, when he buried himself inside her and made love to her against the side of the house, hidden by the shadows of the night.

[etruatcaelum]

send GRIEVED for a scene from my muse's past in which they had recently lost someone / something [ polendina ]

Pietro can't remember the last time he made penance. The regular attendance prescribed by his parents had dwindled when he took up residence at Ginnungagap to just the four appointed days throughout the year; some time after his graduation, he had stopped going at all, while his faith withered.

He'd forgotten… many things.

Shuffling now like an old man into the nave, Pietro unearths a newfound reverence for the simple grandeur of it all. The arcade pillars dripping with alabaster statuary and gold inlay, each depicting a face of the Radiant One: the wild Dawn-Dragon roaring with the sun in His claws, the Golden Monarch seated upon His fiery throne, the lambent antlers of the Midsummer Stag piercing the flank of the Night-Wolf; small marble figures of man and faunus alike kneel in prayer about the base of every tableaux, framed by trellises of painted marble scrolls.

Beneath his feet, the starry, midnight-blue parquet of the narthex flushes the colors of sunrise—red, pink, gold—and brightens toward cerulean where it meets the gilded arches of the solar tree.

Father Areg has grown older, his face deeply lined, the thick salt-and-pepper of Pietro's memory faded to soft white wisps of candy-floss; but he putters back and forth beneath the golden boughs just as he did when Pietro was a young boy, and his smile still puts starlight in his watery blue eyes.

"Pietro?" he says in his startling bass, roughened by the passage of years but otherwise unchanged. "Why, hello—I did not expect–" He catches himself, and his tone gentles. "How can I help you, my boy?"

"Father." The word crackles in his throat; Pietro swallows thickly, and the priest's warm smile becomes a look of piercing concern. "I–"

Long neglect binds his tongue and makes his fingers clumsy. The cane he clutches with his left hand, slick with sweat, obliges him to draw the coronal sign before himself half-circle, and shame burns in him like bile. Head bowed, voice hoarse, Pietro whispers, "I have come to make a penance, Father."

Father Areg murmurs something he doesn't catch through the ringing in his ears, but Pietro feels the weight of a gnarled hand upon his arm and follows, guided by the priest and old habit alike to the low, cushioned bench at the fore of the nave-aisle.

Kneeling causes a terrible pain to rise from the middle of his thigh in bright, fiery arcs to the small of his back. Pietro grits his teeth, and grips his cane, and though he trembles, he does not cry out, nor collapse.

"When you're ready," Father Areg says kindly, laying a hand on his shoulder, and then, "Lament of your sin, for it assails the spirit; it has taken you from the living waters of the Light our God. Therefore weep, my child; let flow the tears of sorrow to make ready your parched soul for His renewal."

Pietro closes his eyes, exhaling. These are old words, comfortingly familiar, and greater than the pain clawing through his body.

He had retrieved his old prayer book from its shoebox at the top of his closet yesterday morning, to study and prepare, and yet he thinks now that even had he not done so, the proper beginning would have come to him, as natural as his own breath: "I regret," Pietro says, "my sins, voluntary and involuntary, knowing and ignorant, great and small, committed by word and deed, in thought or intention, whether in light or in shadow, every hour and minute of my life. I weep over my lack of faith, my doubting, my cynicism, my pride, my indifference…"

It has been many years. His recitation needs must be long, though no one human could give a truly thorough accounting of every sin committed in so long a span. The pain turns like a screw, ever tighter and deeper while Pietro offers the story of his failings: the impatient arrogance which had first led him astray, the commitment to his studies that eclipsed faith and became idolatrous; the accumulated shames of a thousand thoughtless things he's said, of callous moments when he might have been kind, of greed, of ungenerous deeds, of taking for granted the riches he has.

Pietro is not a bad man. He hopes that in the course of his life, he has helped more than he has harmed; always, he has strived to make this world a better one than he found it.

"…but for this, too, I weep, for I have so often committed the sin of self-judgment, placing myself in arrogance before the Light, my Judge, and in deeming myself good I turned away from His wisdom and became blind to my faults and my failures…"

Tears drip down his face; from pain, and from the relief of this unburdening. Once or twice he's obliged to pause in his recitation to wipe his face with his sleeve, and about halfway through he can take the agony of kneeling no longer and admits, voice breaking: "I—Father, I am sorry, I think I must—sit, instead."

"Our bodies break and fail us," Father Areg murmurs with a sad, gentle humor. "It is the nature of mankind to be touched by destruction, and no sin to act in accordance with the limitations of our flesh." He pauses, and while he helps Pietro assume a less painful position on the bench, he adds quietly, "Though it can be a sin of falsehood if we deny such limits, to ourselves or to others."

"Right," Pietro says, and gives a bleak sort of chuckle. "I fear that is a sin I have committed every day for quite… quite some time."

Father Areg squeezes his shoulder, silent, and Pietro takes another moment to compose himself before he resumes speaking.

How long it is, he cannot guess, but he is aware of others coming in and out of the church: of a youthful acolyte sweeping the opposite nave-aisle, of a woman who enters from the narthex on tip-toe to whisper a midday intercession before the icon of Saint Osgyth, of the deacon singing a hymn while he goes about lighting the candle-leaves of the solar tree. In his youth, Pietro remembers feeling embarrassed to make penance within hearings of others, but it comforts him now; he is not alone.

When at last the well of his preparation runs dry and he lapses into troubled silence, Father Areg murmurs, "Is that the end of it?"

"No, Father," Pietro says quietly. "There is—one thing more, which burdens my heart most of all. I am… ashamed." He takes a deep breath. "My colleague, Arthur Watts– he—sometimes, he is difficult, but he is my friend, and he– when the rebels took Fort Shiro, he saved my life. I have been… most ungrateful to him; no doctor in the world could have done better, under such circumstances, and yet I begrudged him—held it against him that I will suffer the rest of my life in an imperfectly healed body. It is because of him that I can still walk at all, but it hurts, and I have held hatred in my heart for him as if he were my tormentor."

Swallowing thickly, Pietro stops again to cover his eyes. Arthur is a prouder man than even he, and a man of high, barbed walls who might almost rather die than reveal a shred of vulnerability to anyone: difficult is a generous word. But three days ago, the hurt that wrenched across his face when Pietro snapped that Arthur would have done better for him by leaving him to die had been impossible to mistake, no matter how swiftly the man buried it behind caustic outrage; and far more than his own misery, it is that which woke Pietro to what he has become, is becoming.

"…I do not," Pietro croaks, "wish to be—this, this… bitter, angry man. Thus I have sinned. Have mercy upon me, O God, forgive me and calm my heart; accept, O Maker of All, my repentance, that I might approach thy sacred teachings in the spirit of your mercy. I pray now for the remission of my sins and correction of my soul. I pray thee, bring down the barriers of my heart and humble me, that I might make amends with those whom I have hurt, and the ones I have made to stumble. To thy everlasting Light I commend my mortal life. Amen."

He feels lighter at once, as if flushed of all the grime and cobwebs of these long years, and it is a relief to bow his head in solemn silence while Father Areg prays over him to complete his penance. In a few moments, when the rite has ended, they may speak more of his ugly quarrel with Arthur, of his brokenness, of his pain; Pietro trusts the priest will offer him sound advice, though he suspects some will be a little singeing to hear.

For now, though, he breathes, and the tears on his face are tears of simple relief.

[your-girl-ahr]

RAINY DAY 🌧️

pairing: mingyu x y/n!reader

genre: fluff

synopsis: life has been a little hard lately, and who better to make you feel better than your favorite person

moodboard:

Life has been a little hard lately leaving you with little to no energy for the things that bring you joy. No energy for a small cup of your favorite chai, no energy to do more than just lay in bed and wait for better days. Today was especially hard with the overcast skies and silent rain reminding you that even the sky is going through it . It’s early afternoon when your phone lights up with a text from him. A small fleeting smile crosses your lips when you think of him. Rolling over you look at the screen and see a gentle “I miss you.” This gives you a little nudge to get out of bed and respond with a quick “be there soon” text back. You throw on some sweats and a hoodie, put your shoes on, and you’re out the door without even looking in the mirror to catch your frazzled state.

*knock knock knock* You hear soft footsteps approach the door and when it opens you are greeted with a soul warming radiant smile. “Hey” he says as he lightly grabs your wrist to bring you closer inside. The door closes behind you and you find yourself wrapped between secure and loving arms. You both stay like that for a while. Just listening to the other’s heartbeat and finding comfort in safe closeness. He eventually steps back and looks at you with such tender love and affection. Softly he asks if you want to cuddle and watch movie. You nod your head unable to speak bc you’re worried if you do, all the thoughts and feelings you’ve been bottling up will come out overwhelming you and forcing you to confront feelings you’re not ready to yet.

He puts on a quiet comfort movie that you both know well enough to not have to pay attention and can just be with each other in comfortable noise. You’re both cuddled on the couch as he mindlessly plays with your hands, tracing the lines and gently massaging them. The movie is playing in the background but your focus is entire on him. On how he is focused on the scene, on how he has the tiniest smile hinted at the corner of his lips, how he makes you feel safe. It all hits you at once. How important he is and how much affection you feel for him. So much so the words leave your mouth before you can think too hard or stop them. The quietest “I love you” falls from your lips. He looks at you, locks eyes with you. A seriousness in them you’ve never seen. And then he breaks out into the most beautiful smile. One so radiant you feel warm and tingly all over. A soft “I love you too” fills the air between you as you feel his thumb rub your cheek, swiping away a stray tear. You feel so overwhelmed, so consumed by how terrible life has been, how hard everything has been, and how much unfathomable love the man in front of you has for you despite it all.

He pulls you into a hug as you cry. Letting it all out. Letting out all the pent up frustration, sadness, disappointment, and hurt. Letting out the relief you feel after confronting and being honest with how you’re doing. Realizing you may not be ok right now, but you will be. You have someone to rely on. Someone in your corner that cares and continually loves you in the midst of the good and bad. Eventually you both shift to be laying down with your head on his chest listening to his steady breaths. His hand gently twirling your hair as you sit in comfortable silence drifting off to sleep. But this time, sleep doesn’t seem so scary, doesn’t seem so bad to actually let yourself rest. To let go of the tension you’ve been shouldering for too long. Your problems may not be fixed but you feel like they are a little lighter. As you close your eyes on the brink of sleep, you think out loud “thank you for being my home.” He hears this and smiles with a “thank you for being my light.”

The rain is still coming down outside and the movie is still softly playing the background, but life doesn’t feel as overwhelming. You have him and he has you. And if all else fails, that will always be enough.