#you shouldn't expect a one direction song

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Lunar Distance

It's distant, but it's her. That humming.

This one doesn't know why she always hums. It's a song from a movie she's shown this one, about a mother that turns children into dolls. It's considered a few reasons why. Maybe she's trying to call this one a child?

It's getting louder, closer. She's approaching the sun room. She's not trying to cause a reaction, she knows this one is in here, she must. She's tried that once before, getting its attention by surprise. She saw that this one couldn't be trusted to handle even a situation so simple as a greeting.

There's a resigned thankfulness in the one that it doesn't need to fear the surprise. To be reminded. but that just makes it wonder why a witch, the ultimate realization of arcane might, would bother. For all this one knows, she shadows it silently, only humming when she needs herself known. What could her motive be?

She's here.

It shouldn't wait for her to make herself known, good dolls are much more proactive. It sets its duster aside, careful not to bend the wires or fray the feathers, as it does a curtsy towards its Miss. "How may this one be useful to you, Miss?"

She doesn't seem surprised. This one has met expectations. "You've been doing a wonderful job around the manor, Luna." She speaks with the cadence of a mother to child. She wants to make especially sure this one understands every word, despite its evident lack of capability. "Would you like to join me for some tea? It's been a while since your last break."

This one freezes. It looks to the duster, then back to its witch.

This one can't accept. It can't rest, not now. She couldn't accept that. She must be testing this one's commitment, its performance and its dutiful nature. Of course, as it was only recently obtained, she must be evaluating it.

"This one is very complemented that you would offer, Miss. It would be an honour for a doll such as this one to spend time with you." As it bows, it hopes that the witch doesn't notice its grip tightening on its dress, a self-soothing weakness. Its words are practised and polite, but choppy and hesitant, despite its best efforts.

Please, please don't be mad.

"But this one would like to decline. It would be..." No, no, bad doll, focus on its words and don't stumble like that again. It's talking to a witch. "Um, this one would find it unbecoming to accept such a thing when it has not finished its work. This one has only just begun to-"

"Luna?" up like prey, staring down the barrel of a gun. What is that expression? It's a smile, but is it pitying? Malicious? Entertained by this one's failure? "Yes Miss." It took too long to answer.

The witch gave a light sigh. Why? Why? "Good dolls need their tea. I am telling you to take a break."

Oh. It failed again. This wasn't a test, and it simply chose to disobey a direct order.

"Yes Miss, of course Miss, this one is very sorry Miss." It curtsies again, speaking quickly. "Good dolls need to maintain optimal performance for their witch. This one is deeply sorry for neglecting its duties."

The witch has another look. The same look. She has to be planning something after that stunt. "You don't need to apologize that much. I just want to make sure you're taken care of."

"Yes Miss, thank you Miss." This one curtsies again. Is it doing enough to show its gratitude? It can't step out of line. Perhaps it's too much, and this one is annoying her.

"Come with me, I'll make the tea this time." The witch turns away, hesitating long enough to beckon the doll along. No, no, how dare this one even let her suggest that. It's the doll, it has to do the work, but it can't defy a witch, not again.

It hurries along, marching to match its witch's mellow pace. "Is... that a command, Miss? A good doll need to provide service to its witch, and this one needs to be a good doll." It speaks tersely.

"Yes, it is a command. Please, rest and reward yourself after a job well done."

It failed again. If it was a good doll, it would've been obedient on its own, without needing to burden her with the clarification. Surely now it's crossed a line.

Luna bows its head as much as it can while keeping pace. "Yes Miss, this doll is very thankful Miss."

. . . . .

Eyes forward, knees together, legs angles, ankles crossed, shoulders flat, back straight, hands on lap, polite smile.

The witch gently pours this one the first cup. Bad doll. Greedy, negligent of its duties, disrespectful of its witch's presence. "You can relax if you'd like to. I give you permission."

"Yes Miss, thank you Miss." it says reflexively. That could mean anything. This one can't, it shouldn't, good dolls are obedient and presentable and demure and docile and pretty. It wasn't before, but surely this one had to be a test. It's being tempted, to see if it would dare to step out of line. "This one is perfectly comfortable as it is, Miss."

She sighed again. It failed again. Again and again and again.

The witch leans forward, resting her hands together on the table. She's so tall, so confident, so much. She could kill this one in a thousand ways.

She's preparing for something. She has to be. Surely this is the moment where the anticipation breaks and this one is finally punished. She has yet to do anything punitive, so it has no idea what to expect. Perhaps it will be something as simple as being placed in the corner, forbidden from stillness, trapped in a painful awareness. That was a common punishment for new recruits, and perhaps Miss will look past its experience and treat-

"I'm worried about you, Luna."

It. Is a little caught off guard.

"I can't tell what you're thinking, but you always seem so... tense. You're never proud of yourself, you don't drink nearly enough tea, and you always look so scared whenever you see me."

This one made its witch worry. Another failure.

"I know it's a lot to ask you to trust me, especially after everything that happened with... your other witch." This one knows that look. That has to be pity. "So... all I can do is promise that I want nothing but the best for you. You deserve to be the happiest doll in the world, and I want to do whatever I can for you."

"This one trusts you, Miss." Clear, direct, serious. It doesn't waste time, but it remains respectful, as a witch deserves.

The witch seems... forlorn? Disappointed? She must be disappointed.

"...I believe you, Luna." Disappointment, clearly. She can't even bare to look at this one. After all the sadness and disappointment it's forced upon her, so much is to be expected. "Please, drink your tea. I don't want it to get cold."

"Yes Miss, thank you Miss, this one is very grateful Miss." This one takes only a second to look around for a napkin, in order to adhere to proper curtsy. Seeing that none are provided, it concludes that dolls are simply not expected to spill their tea, just as every other time with Miss. It grabs the teacup handle between its fingers as it brings the saucer up to chest height, lifting it and taking a gentle yet thankful sip. It uses its little finger, not outstretched uselessly, but instead to cushion the impact of the teacup with the saucer so it doesn't make such a bothersome noise. As perfect as it can manage.

...why does she still look so upset? This one did everything right that time, right? It spoke just as it is supposed to speak, acted just as it was supposed to act, and it still wasn't enough.

Is this one really that broken?

[seeinganewlight]

okay, but like fans yesterday chanting for niall to sing another one direction song, him ignoring them, and then tonight adding another one of his songs is so incredibly sexy like yes niall

[spencerfuckngreid]

You`re the one that I want || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader · Category: Smut · Warning: Angst, Dom, Sex, Happy ending. · Words: 2340 · Summary : Spencer and you have been building tension for a long time, and it finally breaks in a primal way. · Inspiration: Grease's song "You're the One That I Want" and the BRUTAL car scene from Deadpool & Wolverine. 😏

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind!

· Masterlist

You had been building up tension for months, trapped in a push and pull of feelings that neither of you could face. That tension, once imperceptible, now manifested in every word, every gesture. What were once shared jokes had turned into venomous barbs, little attacks that slipped in between the daily grind. Any excuse was enough to throw a biting comment or start an argument.

Your UAC colleagues had noticed. They’d tried to mediate, though without getting too involved. But the friction between you only seemed to grow, and nothing—neither words nor warning looks from the others—could calm the storm brewing between the two of you.

The final straw was a trivial argument in the kitchen. You, holding a cup of coffee in your hand, and him, entering carelessly.

"Be careful! You'll spill the coffee," you shouted, trying not to spill the liquid on your clothes.

"Shouldn't you watch where you're going? Maybe that way you'd avoid accidents," he replied with a tone so sharp it made you snap. He walked in to get his coffee, completely ignoring you.

The biting response slipped out before you could stop it. "Oh, sure. Any other orders from the great doctor today?"

"For God's sake, drop that tone. You sound like a 15-year-old," he snapped.

You couldn't resist. "Speaking of kids, when are you going to do something with that haircut? I don't know, something that doesn't look like a rebellious teenager's."

His gaze darkened, fury evident in his eyes. "Shut up," he said, his voice low and sharp like a threat.

"What's the matter? Does the truth hurt?" you pushed, taking it beyond the limit.

"I said shut up!" The tone he'd used was something you'd never heard before, loaded with anger and frustration. For a moment, you fell silent, surprised by the violence in his voice. You felt your face darken as you walked away, unable to continue the conversation.

The next day, the doorbell rang while you were sprawled on the couch, enjoying a quiet Saturday. You weren’t expecting anyone. When you opened the door and saw Spencer, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. His face was tense, serious, as if something was eating away at him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not bothering to hide your reluctance.

“I want to talk… apologize for yesterday,” he said in a flat voice.

You let him in, but the awkwardness in the air was palpable. The apology was quick and direct, but it didn’t take long before you both fell into another argument.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” he asked, his tone laced with insinuations.

“Excuse me?” you replied with a cynical laugh, as if the very suggestion that you should apologize was absurd.

After a scoff, the tension built until it exploded. Frustrated by your attitude, Spencer turned to leave. But before he could take a step, you grabbed him by the elbow, tugging on his jacket.

“Is this your solution to everything? Run away when things get tough?” you yelled, the heat of anger mixing with something deeper.

He turned abruptly, and before you could react, his hand closed tightly around your wrist, lifting it above your head. His body was so close you could feel his ragged breath against your skin.

“Let go of me…” you whispered, but it wasn’t a plea. It was a warning. Your words trembled, not out of fear, but from the intensity of the moment. Yet Spencer didn’t move, his eyes locked onto yours, challenging you, trying to assert his control.

The air thickened, filled with more than just anger. The struggle for dominance was no longer just verbal.

“Let go of me!” you shouted again, but this time your voice was charged with a fury you hadn’t felt before. With all your strength, you shoved him, making him stumble back a few steps. His gaze burned with a mix of surprise and rage, and in that moment, you knew the fight had only just begun. Before you could move, Spencer grabbed you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your waist as he lifted you effortlessly and shoved you against the wall. The impact was brutal, knocking the air from your lungs, but the only thing that mattered was that explosive proximity.

He didn’t give you a second to recover. His lips crashed against yours, not seeking a kiss, but something much wilder. It was a clash of teeth, of ragged breaths and desperate hands trying to pin each other down. Trying to grab each other’s wrists, to stop the other’s movement. You both gasped, the clash between your bodies awakening something more primal than simple anger. You tried to push him away, but he was faster, his hands now gripping your hips, pulling you closer. The feel of his body against yours ignited a fire you couldn’t control. His fingers slid up your back with wild intensity, as if he was claiming you in the most physical way possible. You bit his lower lip, almost in anger, and his response was a low growl that rumbled in your chest, making you shudder.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled against your mouth, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and pure desire as his hands began exploring your body without any gentleness. It wasn’t an act of tenderness but a battle for control.

“Shut up,” you hissed, shoving his chest with both hands. Getting space between the two of you was nearly impossible, but still, you kept trying. The friction between your bodies was unbearable, almost painful, but you refused to be the first to give in.

Without warning, you threw a punch at his side, not with all your strength, but enough to make him gasp, giving you a brief moment to free yourself. But he responded with the same intensity, catching you before you could get away, gripping your wrists and lifting you with a single movement, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. The cold wall behind you contrasted with the unbearable heat of his body pressed against yours.

“You’re too damn proud,” he whispered through clenched teeth, his warm breath brushing against your neck before biting your skin at its most sensitive spot with a force that made you let out an involuntary moan.

You tried to push him away again, but it was impossible. His hands were already under your shirt, yanking it up until he tore it off you. The cold air hitting your bare skin made you shiver, but it wasn’t that that took your breath away—it was the way his fingers dug into your hips, holding you like he wasn’t going to let you move an inch without his permission.

With one swift motion, he lowered you to the floor, but he didn’t give you a chance to get away. He shoved you towards the couch, and before you could react, he had you pinned on your back. You writhed beneath him, your hands scratching at his back, trying to regain some control, but everything was falling apart in that wild battle between desire and rage. You pushed against him, trying to change positions, seeking control, but he wasn’t going to give in so easily. Both your hands were tangled in a constant struggle, alternating between shoves and desperate caresses. It was a fight you both were enjoying and needed more than you wanted to admit.

You yanked his hair, forcing him to look at you as you leaned forward, biting his jaw with an almost animalistic violence, desperate for the passion that was starting to replace the anger. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back, exposing your neck as his mouth traveled down your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that made you gasp. Something had shifted. It was no longer just about a power struggle; passion had taken control. He stood up and lifted you to straddle him, carrying you to the bedroom.

On the way, you frantically tore off his shirt, and your mouths were at war, fighting for dominance over each other’s tongues while one of his hands grabbed your ass and the other clawed at your back. Your hands, on the other hand, tangled in his hair, pulling savagely, helping to steady yourself with each clumsy bump on the way to the next battlefield: the bed.

When you arrived, he threw you onto the mattress, dropping onto you, but you skillfully flipped him over on the bed, using your weight to get on top of him, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. "Don’t think you’re going to dominate me," you whispered with a defiant smile, but Spencer wasn’t the type to stay still. With a single move, he grabbed your hips and shoved you forward, forcing you to lean over him.

His hands were everywhere. His mouth, brutally insistent, traveled over every part of your skin it could reach, leaving red marks in its wake. The heat between your bodies was suffocating, the tension so palpable it seemed like something was about to explode at any moment. You scratched his chest, biting his shoulders, each slap of skin against skin pulling out grunts and ragged breaths.

"What’s the matter? Don’t like losing?" he murmured, with a dark smile, almost taunting. His face was inches from yours, his eyes burning with that mix of rage and desire that ignited you in a way you’d never admit.

Without thinking, you broke free of his hands just enough to push his face to the side, trying to push him away and, above all, deny him what he wanted—you. But he just chuckled darkly, provoking you even more. That infuriated you. With a growl, you pushed away and kicked him off the bed while trying awkwardly to regain control of the situation, forcing him back just enough to free yourself and sit up.

With a playful snort at your performance, he lunged at you, pinning you to the mattress without giving you a chance to react. His hands gripping your thighs, pulling you toward him with almost brutal force, your breathing was out of control, and your heartbeat raced. There were no more preliminaries, no gentle or considerate gestures, just an unrestrained need to satisfy the hunger that had been simmering for months. You both fought for control, biting each other’s lips, mixing moans and growls between each stolen breath. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling without mercy, while he responded by thrusting harder with his hips in an attempt to ease his desire, making you gasp helplessly.

"You're unbearable," you whispered, your voice loaded with defiance and need. You said, finishing undressing him desperately, wanting to feel every part of his body.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much,” he confessed, his tone dripping with that dark intensity that only fueled the fire between you two.

In a moment, both of you were completely naked. There was practically nothing left but pleasure, he spread your legs with his knee, and with a clouded mind, he made you his. Every thrust was a violent clash of bodies, a constant struggle to see who had control. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep marks, while he gripped your hips, dragging you toward him with a force that ripped screams and muffled moans from you.

"You... won’t... win... this," you panted between ragged breaths, your words defiant even as your body trembled beneath his.

"I’ve already won..." he moaned, his voice hoarse, laden with pleasure and fury. There was no room for anything else, just the relentless rhythm, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the sound of bruised and sweaty skin colliding in an all-out battle.

Your hands, still gripping the sheets, tried to find some kind of advantage, and in a burst of defiance, you grabbed his neck, pulling him toward you to bite his shoulder. He responded by thrusting harder, pulling a mixture of moans and growls from you that filled the room. You suddenly shifted, taking advantage of his confidence to reverse the position, leaving you on top of him, your body pressing against his as he pushed from below. You leaned forward, scratching his chest with a dark smile, your lips descending on his skin in kisses and bites that drew deep sighs from him.

But Spencer didn’t give up, and he had to reassert himself one last time. With a quick movement, he caught you again, flipping you over so that your back was against the bed, your body arching under his as he gripped your hips tightly. There were no more words, only the sound of your bodies colliding, the shared panting, and the rough whisper of your name on his lips.

"Fuck… I��m gonna..." he moaned, which drove you wild.

The climax was as violent as the battle you had waged. A point of no return where control was completely lost. You screamed his name between moans and gasps, your body trembling beneath his as he sank deeper, letting out one final growl before collapsing on top of you, exhausted.

Finally, you both collapsed, breathing heavily, your bodies still trembling from the wild energy that had defined every second of the night, leaving only the absolute exhaustion that made it clear this wouldn’t be the last time. Suddenly, there was no anger, no rage. All the tension of months had been settled. You looked at each other with soft smiles as you tried to catch your breath.

"I won," you said with a smile, calm after the ecstasy.

Spencer snorted in amusement. "Fine, yeah… okay, you won. Will you grant me a rematch...?" he smiled, exhausted.

· Requests via DM ·

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (15/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Showing your friend your favorite place shouldn't be as romantic as it is.

Warnings: this is soft, like really soft, Charles is cute, everything's cute so be prepared, Charles playing piano

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: ahhhhhhhhhh. feedback is appreciated.

"Not happening."

You put your hands on your hips and look at your roommate with narrowed eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because I said so." Charles holds your Renault's car keys tightly in his hand as you stand in front of your car in the underground parking garage. 

Ever since you left the apartment - wrapped in thick, cozy sweaters and warm socks - you've been bickering about who should sit in the driver's seat.

"You don't know where we have to go," you argue, holding out your hand, so he can put the key in it. After all, he really doesn't know where your favorite place is, and for sure you wouldn't tell him if you wanted it to remain a surprise. 

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "So what? You can guide me." He lets the key ring circle around his finger. "But I'm driving."

"But it's my car," you try to change his mind. "And you've driven it the last few times. Both to your place and to Joris and to the restaurant. Would you want to be the passenger princess in your own car?"

Your buddy raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Passenger princess? What's that?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Actually, it's a girl who can't, won't, or shouldn't drive, and that's why she's always driven by her boyfriend." You point to your car. "But I can, and more importantly, I want to drive my car too."

"But you don't have to now." A grin spreads across his face and it becomes clear that you can't win here. "So, be a good passenger princess. Sit in your seat, look pretty, and let your boyfriend drive you around." He walks around the hood and opens the passenger door. "Let's go. I thought you said we were supposed to make the most of the time before I left for Italy. And you can pout on the drive, too."

As he titles himself your boyfriend, your heart beats a tiny bit faster, but you block that out as you follow him and reluctantly plop down in the seat. "Alright, go ahead and drive. But I'll be complaining the whole time."

Charles smiles at you. "I expected nothing less." He closes the door as you buckle up and trots back to his side of the car, where he takes a seat next to you. "So, where are we going?"

"If you'd let me drive, then you wouldn't have to ask," you reply to him, playfully annoyed, letting the seatbelt tighten against your chest. 

The brunette puts the key in the ignition and lets the engine rev briefly. "But you're my passenger princess. So, which way do we have to go?" He presses down on the gas pedal and steers the car out of the underground garage and onto Monaco's streets. 

You pucker your lips into a thin line. "Nice."

Charles' head jerks in your direction. "You traitor." 

You turn to him and cross your arms in front of your chest. "Why is that? It's not my fault there's no place like it here in Monaco."

"Maybe you just haven't been looking properly," he says, turning - reluctantly - at a street sign that says Nice. "There's so much to discover here. So many beautiful things. And they're right under your nose."

You raise an eyebrow. A song is playing softly on the radio, whose name you don't know, but it sounds very familiar. "And what would that be, for example?" you ask. 

Charles' gaze lingers on you for a moment before he looks ahead again. He swallows once and his slender fingers curl around the worn leather of the steering wheel as he turns again to drive out of town. "Tiramisu, for one."

You have to laugh. "I already know that, Charles. That tiramisu was by far the best thing I've ever eaten. So it doesn't count."

He shrugs. "Then you don't have to go all the way to Nice for it." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then clears his throat. "I mean, if you've already had the best tiramisu here, then it's not even worth the effort. You can be perfectly happy with the tiramisu here, no?"

You turn another bit in his direction, your hands folded in your lap looking at him. 

The lights of the lanterns on the streets and the last rays of the day's sun bathe his face in a warm gold, his hair hangs slightly in his forehead and the dimples that usually bore into his cheeks are only slightly hinted at as he purses his mouth into a thin line and waits for your reaction.

Is his remark about Nice an innuendo about Lando? That you don't have to go to Nice with him when it's best with Charles? Is Charles then the "best tiramisu"? The one that's right in front of your nose, but you're too blind to recognize? 

Even though you're not blind at all. You see Charles clearly in front of you, you know how beautiful and wonderful he is, and with all due respect, you've even dreamed about him. You know full well that Charles is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to you. But your focus is limited to your friendship, not allowed to spread to anything else for fear that it might affect yours and that it might suffer. 

Charles is your favorite tiramisu. And you don't need to try another to be sure of that. But maybe tiramisu is just a dessert you share out of friendship because it's easier, more enjoyable. A means to an end. 

You smile at your friend. "I'm perfectly happy with my tiramisu here."

A slight blush creeps onto Charles' cheeks, almost certainly from the fact that the heater is warming up the inside of the car and he's wearing a thick sweater. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself. "I'm perfectly happy with the tiramisu here, too."

The rest of the car ride is quiet. The radio continues to play songs that you hum along to as Charles focuses on the road and it grows darker outside. The silence between you is not uncomfortable, but relaxing and comforting. Neither of you feels compelled to say anything, to keep the conversation going, but you simply enjoy the closeness the car gives you before you break the silence and give Charles instructions on which direction to drive. 

When you end up at a narrow road after twenty-five minutes, he turns off the engine. "So, where's your favorite place now?" He spins around a bit, trying to make out something through the windows of the car, but he can't make out anything except houses, small boutiques, and a deserted neighborhood. 

No normal person would venture out of the warmth of their own home in this cold. Except the two of you. 

"Over there." You point to a dark alley from which a small beam of light shines on the asphalt. Your gaze wanders to Charles. "If you laugh at me for that, or talk down to it, I'll hurt you." You knead your fingers in your lap. 

Showing Charles your favorite place makes you incredibly nervous. Showing someone something so personal, so intimate, makes you vulnerable. And if Charles actually thought your favorite place was terrible, or said something bad about it - you don't even like to think about that. 

"Don't worry," he says, putting his hand on the doorknob. "If the place is as great as you are, then nothing bad can happen at all."

Together you walk off, cold winter wind sweeping your faces, and you're so grateful Charles lent you that thick hoodie. Hiding your hands in your sweater, you walk beside him down the street, following the narrow strip of light into the narrow alley. In front of a store with dim lights, you stop. 

You look at Charles. "This is it."

Your friend looks up from you to the store. The petits mondes is a small, two-story bookstore with ivy entwined around its sign. Fairy lights hang under the rain gutter, casting warm light on your faces. From outside, you can see the countless books stacked to the ceiling in the store through the small store window. "Petits mondes? Little worlds?" asks Charles without looking at you. 

"Exactly," you answer him, rocking from one foot to the other. 

"Okay." Charles looks at you and gestures toward the bookstore with a nod of his head. "Shall we?"

Your friend kindly holds the door open for you and lets you enter the store first, and immediately the smell of old books wafts around you. The shelves are overflowing with books so that the boards bend, and even the floor is piled high with copies, so you have to watch where you step. As you stop to let the place sink in, you sense Charles behind you. 

"Show me," he breathes into the back of your neck and goosebumps spread across your body. "Show me your favorite place, mon amour."

Paralyzed, you stand in front of him, feeling his hot breath on your heated skin, and when he gently places his hands where your hips are, your brain seems to short-circuit. His touch burns through your clothes, through your skin and it feels like his touch is twitching through your veins. 

As someone comes up to you from the back of the store, he takes his hands off you. You take a deep breath. 

"Y/N!" An older gentleman stands behind the sales counter. "How nice to finally see you again! Where have you been the last few days?" 

"Hi, Thomas," you greet him with a smile. "I've been incredibly busy. How's Agathe doing? Did she take her new medication well?" You take a few steps toward him as Charles stops in the doorway. 

"Oh, it was terrible at first. She barely ate and slept very little, but she's much better now," he replies before glancing over your shoulder. "Who's your friend over there? Come here, young man, I won't bite."

You look to Charles, whose gaze lingers on you. He follows you and stops beside you. "I'm Charles. It's nice to meet you," he says, a little nervously. 

"Likewise. Make yourself at home here," Thomas smiles at him before turning back to you. "You know where everything is. I'll lock up the store in a good fifteen minutes, but I'll leave the spare key here." 

You nod gratefully at him. "Thank you very much. Please give Agathe my regards, and above all, please continue to get well, won't you?" You take a few steps toward the spiral staircase, which is in the back of the store, before turning to him once more. "And don't stay up too late, or you'll have that headache again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course, Y/N." Thomas smiles at Charles. "Go on, enjoy the evening. I'm sure we'll see each other again." Then he disappears. 

"He's nice," says Charles, who joins you but glances after Thomas. 

"He is," you counter him, and together you climb the steps of the steep spiral staircase to the top floor. "Agathe - his wife - is sick, which is why he's closing the store early to get to her faster. They've known each other for sixty years and they've been married for fifty," you tell him. When the two of you arrive upstairs, you look at Charles. "I guess they were best friends at first before they finally found each other." 

Charles' smile is gentle. "And they opened the store together?"

You nod and take a few more steps as you let your outstretched fingers roam over the many book spines on the shelves. "The store is twice as old as we are, and they put so much time and love into this. I think you can tell with every single book."

"With every single little world," Charles adds. "Petits mondes."

The two of you browse through various books until you arrive at a small couch with books piled up on its sides. A table lamp stands on the small column, casting warm light on the dark red fabric. In the corner next to it is an old piano with loose sheets of music. 

"I like to come here when I feel lonely. When I'm surrounded by these many little worlds, I know I'm not alone," you explain your favorite place, Charles listening intently. "Although I've been living in Monaco for months, and even though it's my home, I still feel quite lonely sometimes. And ever since I broke up with Raphael and all my friends dropped me, this place has been my refuge."

Charles drops onto the narrow bench that sits in front of the piano and surveys the slightly yellowed keys. "When was the last time you were here?" 

You sit down on the couch. "The day you stood in my apartment," you reply, a smile spreading across his face. 

"You mean when I was standing in my apartment," he grins, tilting his head. 

You purse your lips. "Do you play?" you ask him, gesturing toward the piano with a nod of your head. 

He shrugs his shoulders. "A little. I started learning to play two years ago, but I'm not particularly good at it."

You prop your elbow on the armrest and rest your head in your hand. "Would you play something for me?"

"Something from the sheets here?" he asks, sliding the loose pages back and forth on the piano, looking for something appropriate for this moment. 

"Whatever you like," you answer him.

Charles nods and raises his hands to place his fingers gently on the keys. He takes one deep breath before looking to you. With a smile, you encourage him to get started, and as he returns your smile, his fingers begin to dance across the piano. 

You watch him as he intently plays a melody you don't know. His eyes flicker as well as his movements across the keys, moving from the high notes to the low ones. The sight of seeing him so in his element, so captivated by the music, brings tears to your eyes. 

He plays with a passion that you would also like to feel for something, and whatever the song is that he is playing there for you, you would love to tattoo on your skin. The warm light from the lamp shines softly on his face as he looks over at you for a moment. 

After a few minutes, when he lets his fingers linger on the keys and the last notes fade away, you have to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, smiling at him. "Who's it from?"

Charles turns back to you and there's a twinkle in his green eyes. "It's my piece," he replies, looking down at his hands. "I wrote it."

You widen your eyes. "That was from you?" you ask, aghast, pointing your finger at the piano. "Don't bullshit me, Charles. That's really from you?" When he nods, you slap your hands over your head. "And you say you're not very good at it." 

He shrugs. "I didn't write the piece, it - it just came out of me. This place -" He stands up from the bench and spreads his arms, "I can see why this is your favorite place. It's beautiful here, and I'm very grateful to you for sharing all these little worlds with me. It means a lot to me." He tilts his head. "I just hope you don't feel lonely around me and need to seek refuge here."

You get up from the couch and stand in front of him. Most of all, you want to tell him that Charles is the reason you haven't been here since you met, that he is your haven. But you can't tell him that as a friend. Friends don't do that. 

"Thank you for coming here with me." You poke his finger against his hard chest. "And thanks for not making fun of it. After all, it's not as special as the place you showed me."

Charles takes a deep breath. "Everyone has their own experiences that make certain places special. I would never make fun of you. You're too important to me for that." He leans a bit in your direction and tilts his head. "I know it's your place, and I definitely don't want to seem like an intruder, but maybe we can make this our place too. To one of our little worlds," he suggests, pulling back a little, only to reach out to you. "Dance with me, mon amour."

You smile at him. "We don't have music, Charles."

He shrugs. "We can make our own music," he counters, noticing how reluctant you are to take his hand. 

His suggestion to make this place one of yours is lovely, but what would happen if the two of you stopped being friends at some point? Then you would have to find a new place, a new haven - and you definitely don't want that. This place means far too much to you for that. 

You don't know what to say to that, so you just smile and move away from him a little more. A glance at the clock hanging on one wall tells you that you've been in the store longer than you think.

"We'd better get going. We haven't eaten anything decent yet, and it's getting late, and we still have to head back." You make your way back toward the stairs, where you then stop and glance back. Charles' outstretched hand is now in his pants pocket, and judging by the look on his face, you've hurt his feelings. Something you definitely don't want to happen, but you can't stop it either. "You coming?"

Putting a little distance between you, you head down the stairs and hear Charles slowly following you with heavy footsteps. Once downstairs, you reach for the spare key Thomas has left for you. There's a switch under the counter, which you flip as your friend joins you, and all the lights in the store - including the string of lights outside - go out. 

"I don't want the day to end." Even though it's dark in the store, you see Charles clearly ahead of you. His look is a little sad as he walks toward you. A few inches in front of you, he stops. "When the day is over, it's already tomorrow and then I have to go. And then we won't see each other for four days." You feel him reach for the hem of your sweater with his fingers. 

You smile softly at him. "It's only four days. You'll be fine," you try to talk him down, even though you feel the same way. Four days isn't the end of the world - so why does it feel like an eternity?

Charles continues to play with your sweater. "It's our third day together, and I don't know why, but I've already gotten so used to you. To your company, being so close to you." He looks from the hem into your eyes. "It's going to be weird not having you around me all the time."

"How do you think I'll be?" you venture to ask him, and confused, he looks at you. "Well, you're in Italy having your meetings, your work colleagues and I'm here just waiting for you to come home." You push your bottom lip forward. "Not that you'll forget about me and not hear from you."

Charles wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his body. Chest to chest, you stand there in the dark bookstore, only the thick sweaters between you, your faces inches apart. If you would just stretch a little, go up on your toes, your lips would brush his. His hot breath glides over your face and you close your eyes. 

"I could never forget you, mon amour. How many times do I have to tell you how important you are to me?" You feel his hands on your back, pressing you against him. Not a sheet of paper fits between you anymore. Heat spreads through your body, and it's definitely not because of the thick sweater. 

"So often, until I believe it," you answer him softly, and there's so much more meaning in your words than either of you can imagine. 

He tilts his head forward a little more. "I promise you that you'll never have to doubt how much you mean to me, even if I have to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times." His scent envelops you like a cloud and that feeling, what you can only describe as Charles, surges through your body. "I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, mon amour. In this life and the next. In each of our little worlds."

next part

[leosxrealm]

ꜱᴀᴜᴅᴀᴅᴇ

pairing(s): prince! Arthur Leclerc x male! knight! reader

warning(s): mentions of injury, mentions of death, royal au! forbidden romance(?), angst

(a/n): a lot of backstory and angst. also this was inspired the moodboard i made. and inspired by the song– sign of the times by harry styles. also the dynamic was kind of inspired by patrochilles from tsoa.

wc: 1.6k

!not proofread!

"Y/n! Uncle!"

You hear the high-pitched voice of a young boy. On turning around, you see him running towards you. But he never reaches you.

You let out a sigh. Seeing Arthur trip on his own feet was not an uncommon sight for you. You could never understand how a prince could be so clumsy. You walk over towards him, helping the poor boy up.

"Prince Arthur," your father greets him with a small smile.

"Uncle!" the younger beams.

"What brings you here, your Highness?" your father asks him, curious about why the youngest prince was near the soldier's quarters, which happened to be on the opposite side of the Prince's room.

Arthur stills for a second, gathering his thoughts. "My father has requested your presence. He said something about- about-" He trails off, not remembering the rest of what his father had said.

Your father smiles down at him. You didn't know what he found amusing about him. Your father turns to you, giving you a small smile, "I have to go. Please take care of Prince Arthur and escort him back to his room."

"Yes, father."

---

You look around the hallways as you walk behind the youngest prince. The royal quarters were completely different from what you were used to.

Arthur's room soon comes into your field of vision. It was only a few paces down Prince Charles'. "Do you want to come in?" he asks excitedly, eager to show you the new toys his father had brought from his recent travels.

You accept his request. It's not like you could say no to a Prince; you were a nobody compared to him.

---

You had been practicing your sword skills near the river bank before you were disturbed by the presence of another person. It took you a second to recognize him. After all, you didn't expect him to be here. 

"Hello!" he said after spotting you, his eyes full of innocence and with the biggest smile on his face. 

"Your Highness," you bow, just like you were taught to. He frowned, he never liked how you treated him like a prince. He wanted to be your friend, and friends don't bow to each other. Or act like one was superior.

He quickly changed the topic, asking you to teach him some of your sword moves.

"You have a trainer already," you pointed out, "appointed by the king."

"But I don't like him," he replied, pouting like a child. You sometimes forget that he's a prince. From what you were told, a prince shouldn't act this way. Maybe he got away with it because he was the youngest, you wondered.

"I'm not a teacher," you replied, hoping the annoying boy would go away already. "But you could teach a friend!" Arthur replied happily. You take a moment to answer. "You're a prince. We can not be friends." You walk away from the river, going back to the soldier's quarters.

Arthur watched you walk away from him. He didn't understand why you disliked him so much. All he wanted was a friend.

---

You were appointed to accompany the youngest prince while he went to the local bazaar. He wouldn't let anyone else accompany him and of course, the king couldn't let him go alone.

Arthur had made it known that you would be the only one he would allow to be near him. So upon receiving direct orders from the King, you couldn't exactly say no.

---

His eyes beg you. Trying to covey the words his mouth couldn't. Was it selfish of him? To want you to stay when the kingdom was under attack? He searches your eyes. What was he trying to find?

You step closer to him. Your hand gently cups his face, bringing him closer, till your foreheads touch.

"I have to go," you whisper, your breath tickling his face. A lump forms in his throat. He doesn't want you to leave.

His stomach churns at the thoughts that cross his mind. The 'what if' scenarios running through his mind. He can't shake off this feeling he has.

"Don't." It's so quiet you barely hear it. "Please."

"My Prince." You pull him into your embrace, gently tucking his face in the curve of your neck. One of your hands around his back, the other supporting his head.

"My love," you try to console him. It hurt you to see him like that. It hurt you the most to know you were the reason for his current state. 

"At least..." he tries to say before his own sobs cut him off. "At least stay the night." 

You look at Arthur. He was clutching your vest, scared that if he let go, you would leave. He reminded you of the young boy you had met all those years ago. 

The clumsy little boy, who used to run around the palace barefoot, tripping so often that his arms and legs were scattered in scars. 

The determined little boy, who used to beg you to teach him how to fight because he didn't think he was strong enough to deserve the title of prince. The smart little boy, who taught you how to read and write, something you had never learned because a soldier had no use for such things.

The caring little boy, who stayed up all night once to look after you after you had caught a severe cold.

The sensitive little boy, who cried when he found a dead butterfly in the garden. You didn't have the heart to tell him that those things barely lived for a few weeks. The brave little boy, who fought his father, the king, because the king forbade him from spending time together with lowlifes.

You smile at the memory. Arthur had fought his own father all because he called you a lowlife. You knew your place in the system. It wasn't the first time you had heard such a thing. It's what you were so you didn't ever consider it an insult. 

But seeing Arthur defend you like that, against the king of all people, had really made you see him in a new life.

You tighten your arms around him. You didn't want to leave him here. But this was a war the kingdom couldn't afford to lose. Things had been especially tough on the frontlines. 

"Of course, my love," you reply softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. 

---

Arthur woke up the next day to an empty bed. You were nowhere to be seen. Deep inside, he knew you had already left. You were probably about to reach the battlegrounds.

He rolled over to your side of the bed. At least that's what he had been calling it ever since you had started spending the nights in his room. It was already cold.

He tried to sleep again, to get away from the thoughts clouding his mind but to no avail.

Something caught his eye. It was sitting on top of the nightstand. He reached out grabbing the small piece of jewelry.

He recognized it. It was a simple silver chain with your birthstone hanging from it. It was the most precious thing you had. You had told him once. A gift from your late mother.

He carefully wrapped his fingers around it. He knew how much it meant to you. It was your treasure and you had left it in his care. He brought the necklace closer to him. Like he was holding a piece of you. 

He curled up in a ball, weeping quietly. The reality of the situation hit him. There was only one instance he could think of where you would leave behind your most treasured necklace.

---

The Sun had already settled for the day. The stars, shining like little gems in the blanket of darkness. It had been a long day for the two young boys. Sweaty and tired, they laid in the freshly trimmed grass. 

"You did good today." the shorter of the two turned  his head to look at his companion. You had never been the first to start a conversation with him, much less compliment him. Arthur felt himself turning red as you laid there oblivious. 

"Thanks," he meeked out. He turned to look at you once again. Your had laid comfortably on the ground, your eyes closed, the moon that had previously been hiding behind the clouds was now shining its luminance onto you. 

Heavenly. You looked heavenly. It was the only way he could describe you. He closed his eyes, taking in the smell of the grass surrounding him, and of the blooming flowers through the wind. the sound of the leaves rattling, and you.

"I want to learn life with you."

You opened your eyes slowly. It had been so quiet that you barely heard it. You turned to the boy next to you. Or rather the man next to you. He was fifteen, turning sixteen in a few weeks. 

He was no longer the clumsy little boy you had met. He fitted into his role as the prince perfectly. He knew how to fight now. He was attending meetings when his brothers couldn't. His opinions were heard in the council. Everyone had acknowledged him as a man, as a dutiful prince. 

He had even changed physically. He was taller than you remembered. Stronger, even. His muscles were starting to show. His voice was slightly deeper. His hair was longer. He had grown. Before you knew it, a smile had appeared on your face. 

---

He holds the letter close to him, the edges of the paper crumbling under his fingers. The tears staining the paper. It was written in a hurry, he could tell. Addressed to him, sitting neatly on the nightstand next to your necklace.

He wailed.

Please forgive me, my prince. I would not be there to accompany you till the end. I wish it didn't had to end like this. I wish I got learn more of life with you.

I hope we can meet again somewhere. Somewhere far away from here. Maybe in the after life. Until then, take care of yourself, my love.

Love,

Your Knight

(a/n): i've written after soooo many months so its kinda weird and all over the place. and a little rushed. I'll get better when i start writing more eventually i promise🤞🏼i still hope you guys enjoyed it

[fanaticf1fan]

I - Back To The Past

A/N Hello, this is my first fanfiction. please be welcome to give any criticism to help me make my fanfiction better. :)

Also, this fanfiction ay not follow IRL timelines and Rules for the Formula series franchise.

Emilia Schumacher was born to Michael and Corinna Schumacher February 2006, from the moment she was born Emilia had been the apple of her family’s eyes. From the moment she was born the restlessness and need for adventure she undoubtedly inherited from her father. From a young age she was constantly following her older brother Mick around and bonding with her older sister Gina.

She was fortunate to spend a lot of time with her father during his brief, temporary retirement from 2006-2010. Due to this she had stuck herself to her father like glue, expressing her constant want to be exactly like him in any way she could.from a very young age she was set to follow in his footsteps, just like her brother.

When her father returned to racing in 2010 with Mercedes, Emilia was overwhelmed by new people surrounding her, her family now expanding into a grid full of fun uncles and aunts.

When she started Karting at 5 years old, she noticed a few oddities around the track. The first was the lack of other girls there, to the point she seemed to be the only one on the track. The second was the constant whispers and glances that other people had sent her and her family's way. The constant, nagging whispers of her peers doubted that loomed over shoulder everywhere she turned. Her father had sat her down one day and explained that she shouldn't listen to them after he found her crying one day after a meet, huddled under the table tucked into a ball.

“Don't listen to them Shatz, you are my daughter, I will be forever proud of you for whatever you accomplish, don't let anyone make you think any differently.”

When she was 7 her life was thrown into chaos, her father as she knew him was no longer with her or her siblings, he was now just an empty corpse-like shape, lying in a hospital bed relying on machines for life. She spent her 8th Birthday in the hospital sitting around his bed with her family, it had been the first birthday that her father hadn't gently held her as she woke up. There were no birthday pancakes or special songs this year. Just the sound of beeps, the smell of disinfectant and the feel of tears streaming down her face.

A few weeks after her birthday, she started karting again, now under the direct guidance and mentoring of one of father’s close friends, Sebastian Vettel. The two had began getting close after her father rejoined formula 1 with mercedes. He became an older brother figure to her and became her crutch when her father got injured.

She had achieved multiple victories under the mentoring of Sebastian, yet every time she stood on that ever important top step, trophy in her arms, her heart yearned for the one man she had been missing for months. Sebastian of course tried to help heal that hole in her heart, taking over quite a bit of the responsibility over her and her brother while they both competed. Mick and her had formed an inseparable bond, leaning on one another for support. 

Her father had been released from his prison coma in June 2014. She had expected her life to return to normal, however as she looked upon her father, she almost didn't recognise him. He was nothing like the person he was before, their relationship wasn't the same. This broke her heart so bad she decided to simply sink into the shadows of her childhood home.

She had risen through the ranks quickly, she was competing in levels above her age, spending most of her free time practising her skills to help her on the track. She won many races which angered many people but she didn't care. She was fueled with the memory of her father and what they used to be like, her biggest wish was to be just like him, and she was going to ensure she would get there.

By the time she had reached F4, she had gathered quite the ruckus in the media and on the circuit, she had multiple karting championships and wins and the number was only increasing, she had become a number one competitor for many of her fellow races. In 2021, after a well earned win in F4, she was approached by one of her father’s previous teammates, Nico Rosberg. He had kept in contact since the accident but the two hadn't spoken in a while. 

After a few months, Nico became another mentor for the girl, working well with Sebastian to help the girl progress and keep her managed. While Sebastian had stayed as her primary mentor, Nico took the role of her manager, organising deals and sponsors to ensure the girl only raced with the best of the best with the goal of helping her reach her life goal.

In 2022, she entered F3, winning the championship before being almost snatched up by F2 team Prema Racing the next year. Her brother had graduated the team two years prior before going into endurance racing, dominating the field. She had become good friends with her F2 teammate Oliver Bearman. She had begun helping him any way she could, attempting to meteor him the way she had been mentored for the past years.

She was ready to make her dream her reality, and she was so close to the first step in the next stage.

[bumblesimagines]

were you flirting with them?

you just gave me the impression we were exclusive.

Cassie Howard

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Mentions of drinking, mild/soft angst

Back to being stuck on mobile.. back to my roots... Moving is an annoying process y'all

Cassie remained in her spot on the worn-out couch, her hands curled around a plastic cup and lips pressed into a tight line as she watched the center of the room where classmates, strangers, and friends danced along to the song blaring through the speakers.

Baby blue's followed (Y/N) through the room, focusing on the way he laughed and curled his arm around the shoulder of some random girl. Her chest constricted and her hold tightened, the crinkling of her cup swallowed up by the music and chatter.

"Hey!" The cushion sunk slightly with added weight and Maddie's dark eyes peered at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

Cassie raised the cup to her shimmery lips, swallowing down gulps of the cheap beer before jerking her chin in (Y/N)'s direction. Maddy craned her neck, searching the sea of bodies until she found (Y/N).

"Dick." She hissed, turning back to her with a scowl. "Give me this."

Before Cassie could react, Maddy scooped the cup out of her hand and rose from the couch, shimmying and slipping her way through the crowd. Cassie stumbled after her, her name tumbling from her lips in alarm until Maddy reached the two and tilted the cup.

"What the fuck?!" The girl whipped around toward Maddy, hands flying toward her now drenched skirt and wiping at it furiously.

"It was an accident." Maddy scoffed, rolling her eyes as the girl stormed off to clean herself up. She spared (Y/N) a withering look before giving Cassie a small wink and disappearing into the crowd.

"(Y/N), hey," Cassie cleared her throat, carefully avoiding the spilt beer spreading across the tile floor. "Can we talk?"

Searching for a place to talk where the music wouldn't drown their voices or be filled with others proved more difficult than expected. Practically each room had vibrating walls or more than one person inside doing one thing or the other.

"Here." (Y/N) tugged on her hand and pushed one door open with his shoulder. He flickered on a light to reveal a small laundry room and leaned back against the dryer to look at her.

Unable to keep her mouth shut for much longer, Cassie blurted out, "Were you flirting with her?"

"Why does it matter?" The corners of his brows twitched, almost furrowing. His eyes swept over her figure curiously, somewhat knowingly.

"You.." Her cheeks burned. "You just gave me the impression we were exclusive.."

Most of the guys Cassie slept with only ever returned for one singular thing; those she dated eventually left to get with another girl or because the teasing from the other guys got to them. She'd been over the moon when (Y/N) treated her more kindly than the rest, even gifting her a necklace with her name on it for her birthday.

Had she really been foolish to think it was more than hooking up?

(Y/N) frowned, his eyes flickering away from her with a semblance of guilt creeping up onto his face. "I thought we were just friends, to be honest. I didn't mean to lead you on."

"It's- It's fine!" Cassie forced out with a laugh, the back of her eyes beginning to burn. She pressed her lips together again to keep them from quivering. "I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have assumed. I- I should go find my sister."

"Cass-"

Cassie tossed the door open and stepped out into the hallway, abruptly feeling too exposed in the gentle chill of the AC. She wrapped her arms around herself and ignored the sound of (Y/N)'s voice calling her name.

[hobvitr]

hi love, how are you? could you do an earth 42 miles morales x reader in enemies to lovers style? i really want to read this <3 thank you

miles morales 42 x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda), angst, hurt, mentions of being assaulted, fluff, comfort, kissing, miles 42 may be out of character idk, unrevised writing

note: heyy darling!! thank you for this request! i tried my best to make it make sense and i hope it does! just finished it almost passing out from sleep :p recommended song: don't - bryson tiller

sinopses: your neighbor isn't the most friendly to you and you are intrigued by it, until he help you with a bad situation

you were making your way up the stairs of your apartment, humming the song that echoed throughout your earphones. too distracted looking the at the steps, you bump into someone going the opposite direction.

"oh, sorry-" you quickly apologize looking up to see who was it, and to your surprise, it was your neighbor, miles morales. he just stared at you, not bothering to answer or apologize too, and continued to made his way down stairs.

'damn, what a prick...' you thought to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows as you reached your door, carefully unlocking it with your keys. as you entered your cozy home, you throw your shoes at the entrance and made your way to the kitchen.

you started to rewind a little bit your encounters with morales while you gathered ingredients to cook some dinner, noticing that he never directed One word towards you, you didn't even know what his voice sounded like, just muffled when he was chatting briefly with his uncle and it happened that you heard. some neighbors are a pain in the ass but you didn't understand why he was so avoidant around you. although he was pretty unsympathetic he looked like a good person, because his mother, rio, was an angel.

as you were looking throughout the shelves for salt, you realized you needed to go to the grocery store to get some. you sighed with exhaustion, putting your shoes again and picking just your wallet to go down the street. it was already dark now, your classes ended a bit later than expected so you weren't used to go out alone at this time of the night.

as you walked down the street, you didn't realize you were being followed by some tall and pretty much bigger guy than you. anxiety started to burn into your veins as you picked up your pace, but his pace got quicker too. taking a deep breath you just kept going, not so far to the store, but you felt a strong hand hold your arm, making you flinch.

"where do you think you're going, lady?" the buff guy asked, his hold getting tighter around your arm and you started to tear up with fear. "where do you think she's going?" a low voice comes near you, catching your attention. morales?

"fuck off. now, kid." the guy said, reaching to the inside of his coat, but miles was faster, throwing a punch on his face, making the buff guy look like a little bitch now curled on the ground. your eyes widened as you looked at him, then at morales.

"s-sorry" you stutter at miles, not sure what to say. "shouldn't be apologizing" he replies. "y'kay?" he asks, making eye contact with you, scolding you towards the grocery store, not wanting the man to be near you.

"i think so... yeah.." you breathe out, still shaky from the shock it all was. he accompanies you in the store while you get your salt and some candy, and you almost forgot to thank him for probably saving your life. "thank you... so much, actually."

he nod with a slight smile you almost didn't see. your mind race with the thought of asking him why he didn't like you but still punch some guy for your safety. "i'm sorry for asking, but is there a reason why you never talk to me? did i do something wrong? 'cause i really don't know and i would like to improve if i'm being a pain in the ass" your voice filled with a kind of despair.

he stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassed, but he finally answered. "you're fine, i just don't tend to talk to anyone" he didn't seem convincing, but you got along with it anyway.

there wasn't much mystery, really. he had difficult to get to know new people, you just didn't knew about that. you assumed he was popular between the neighborhood and school, but it was a wrong assumption and you still didn't know about it.

"oh, okay" you replied, slightly relieved you were clear. "well, I'm y/n l/n" you extended your arm for a handshake. "I'm no more anyone" you said smiling to him as he shake your hand. "I'm miles morales" he replied with a small grin.

you kept your optimism now that he helped and talked to you. everyday after that day you said the most sympathetic 'hey' at him, and day after day he was opening his shell to you, replying and catching up to know how you and your family are.

you started to feel weird, getting excited to see and talk to him when you two could. nothing wrong to be happy to see a friend, right? right, but wrong assumption. he wasn't just your friend, he was your crush too. when he appeared with braids you could swear you were passing out at the sight. that was the confirmation to your questions about why you felt weird about miles.

your phone vibrate, indicating a new message. you read 'miles 🐈' on the screen, making you pick up to see what was it.

'can u come to the rooftop?'

'sure'

you replied, putting on a coat that he lent to you and a pair of snickers. you made your way through upstairs and made to the rooftop. you saw him sitting on the edge of the roof.

"what's up, morales?" you got closer to him at his right side, supporting your elbows where he was sitting. you were a bit afraid of doing the same as him.

"hey" he replied, looking at you. for whatever reason you were nervous about meeting him, and you did it almost daily. "why'd you called me here?" you asked nonchalantly, faking tranquility.

"i just wanted to see you" his words came out like honey, your heart melting as you heard it, but you can't show your weakness as you don't know how he feels about you. "that's cute" you tease him, a grin escaping from your lips and he bumps you with his elbow. "shut up" you know he was smiling as he said.

"i was thinkin' earlier... that I'm not being honest with you" he started, making you cut eye contact with him. you knew something was up and now you are sure everything was being dumped in trash at real time. you stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt his vent.

"i don't tell you everything, i even lie to you" his tone was low, but you could still hear him, and that was the problem. you didn't want to hear anything more and go home to process everything and cry your eyes out locked in your room. "i don't think we can be friends anymore" he stated, your heart swell completely, tears threatening to fall but you were strong to hold back. "i want to make you happy, i want to love you property" he confessed.

your mind was racing now, trying to understand what he meant exactly, you didn't want to be delusional and state you liked him back, what if he was talking about something else.

"i know you're overthinking right now, there's no need" he chuckled briefly, looking at your poor confused expression. "i like you. more than as a friend" he said clearly, not one misinterpretation was possible to happen now.

you finally looked back at him, teary eyed while you chuckled at your situation and the theatre he made just to confess to you. "fuck, you don't confess to someone like this, miles, you almost killed me" your hand was covering your face, letting some tears roll down your cheeks. "i like you too" you confessed, voice mumbled, as you were still shy to admit it.

he was smiling beautifully, both of you with shining eyes. miles got back to the floor, now standing at your side. "sorry about almost killing you" one of his hands traveled to your cheek, his thumb caressing slightly your soft skin. "can i redeem myself?" he ask with a grin and you reply with one as well. "don't get me waiting" he almost cutted you mid sentence crashing his lips onto yours.

even with the excitement of both of you, the kiss maintained a slow and soft pace, making you smile at the moment. miles placed his other hand at your waist, backing up for air. "we have to catch up all that time we didn't kissed each other" he say, getting a chuckle out of you. "we'll manage it" you winked placing your arms around his neck.

[unadulteratedkr]

~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4 • 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮

̩͙‿‿༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ̩͙‿

Note: HIGHLY recommend to listen to THIS SONG (here is the YouTube link as well) while reading this chapter!

Warnings: sexual content ahead! Language, sex descriptions, rough sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, creampie, marking, slight degradation, PIV (wrap it up kids!), multiple rounds/orgasms, consenting adults, experienced reader, 18+! A new soft Noah?

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"Oh welcome ba-oh my....I'll just be in here" Vilma whispers as she came to greet you both home only to find you pinned against the wall by Noah, locked in an intense kiss. She quietly excuses herself from the scene she walked in on.

Your clothes dripped on to the floor as your bodies squeezed together. Noah's lips exploring your cold skin, as his hands slide underneath your soaked shirt, his hands caress and massage at your skin. You couldn't help but shiver both from Noah's touch and the coolness of the house mixed with your wet clothes

"Are you cold flower?" he asked you

"j-just a little" you bite your lip as his gaze comes back to yours

"I guess I should warm you up then, shouldn't I" his hands shift to hold you princess style as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. Vilma made a note to turn the heat up just a bit, to save you from a cold. Instead of heading down your usual hallway, you went into the opposite direction, to what you assumed to be his bedroom. He opens the double doors and revealed a dimly lit room. It was simple, yet beautiful, dark but cozy. Noah sets you down on your feet

“Let’s get you out of those clothes shall we?”

“Y-yeah-“ you start to get your pants but Noah stops you

“Ah, not so fast” Noah Sebastian comes down to his knees in front of you and unbuttons your pants. The clothing falling almost instantly from the weight of the water it retained. Noah guides your feet out of the pants and toss them aside. His large hands caress your calves as his lips kiss from your knee, up your thigh and stopping at your hip. He stands back on his feet, brings his hands to slowly peel off your top and toss it with your pants.

“Can I..” you asked grabbing at the edge of his pants.

“Oh flower, with those eyes you can have anything you ask for” he smirks at you and brings your other hand to his belt as well as he starts to unbutton his shirt. You unbuckle his belt, undo his button and zipper, letting his slacks fall to the floor. He kicks them away as you roll off his shirt, moving on to the tank top. Revealing all the tattoos that covered his body. You had only seen the ones on his hands and neck, but you didn’t expect for him to be covered.

You hesitated to touch his chest at first, until his hand leaves yours to touch his damp skin. It was slowly starting to dry off still had corn from the rain. His hands held yours in place as one of the first and most intimate moments either of you have had together. Your eyes trace his tattoos up to his neck and fall into his eyes once again. His lips quickly captures your food and another kiss. He turns you around and lead you to the bed. He pushes you with enough force to make you fall on the bed. Your body bouncing on the plush mattress as a smirk grew on his face.

He kneels in front of you once again but this time starts at your feet. Kissing you feet climbing up to your ankle, up the inside of your left calf and stopping at your knee

“Are you ready pretty girl?” He asks in a deep voice. One you’ve only heard when he was speaking over the phone. It sent a delicious shiver up your spine and made your mouth water.

“Y-yes..” you answer swallowing hard as you feel his hands slithering their way of your body into your hips. Softly, caressing the skins that was there. His lips continue their journey of your inner thigh just inches away, where you had began to throb an ape. You could feel your breathing getting heavier. Your heart was racing, anticipating the moment that he finally makes contact.

He then lays a warm kiss over your clothed pussy. You wine and your core ooze without being directly touched yet. You can feel his grin against your pussy, pride, filled his chest, knowing that he was able to make you shutter with pleasure without touching you just yet. The tips of his fingers loop around the band of your panties and pulls them down your thighs, over your knees and lets them fall to the ground.

He suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, you knees hung over his shoulders. His breath breezing over your exposed core. His fingertips ran over the goosebumps that were forming over your skin. His nails, slightly dragging over the skin, not hard enough to leap the scratch, but enough to elicit more excitement out of you.

Your back shoots up off of the bed when Noah takes the first lick. His tongue take a long slow lick up your pussy, Stopping at your clip to gently nip at it. He flattens his tongue and applies pressure to your clit as he shakes his heads 'no'. he moves down again as his nose bumps your clit, his tongue rounding and prodding at your entrance.

"oh...oh god..." you pant, you've had experiences before, but this was something else. He's barely eaten you out and you already feel ready for an orgasm. Your could feel the tips of his middle and ringer finger, as he slowly pumps in the tips, out, the next knuckle, out and fully in.

You let out a shudder at his actions, the coolness of his fingers contrasting with the heat of your core. He comes up and smiles at your form

"You like that, princess?" you pulse around his finger at the name "Oh you like being called princess?" you didn't answer and so he curls his fingers towards him, brushing past your g-spot

"ah!~" you moan

"Use your words princess," he smirks as he comes down and gives a kitten lick to your swelling bud

"Y-yes...fuck Noah yes...." you whimper out

"Good girl" as his slender digits pump in and out of you while his tongue laps at your folds, spreading your juices. Now Noah is a special case, he eats with desperation, like a starved man who has not had a meal in years. Hearing your moans, feeling you shutter and twitch against him made him harder and harder. He couldn't help himself from reaching into his tight boxers, and wrap his hand around his hard dick. He fucks into his hand as he eats you out, keeping his strokes slow and steady. Hearing your pants quicken, he curls his fingers as he sucks on your clit to push you past the edge

"noah I...I! Fuck!" your hand flies down to his head and you hold him against you. Noah groans against you, you pulse and cum around his fingers. He pulls them out of you and sucks the cum clean off. watching as your legs shake and shiver

"You feeling good princess?" he asked you as he crawls over your body, his arms holding him above your body.

"yeah...yeah...that was so...wow" you admit trying to catch your breath.

"Okay princess, come on" without effort he picks you up and tosses you up more on the bed. He crawls over to you, like a predator who had finally corned it's prey. You maintain eye contact as you unclasp your bra and free your breasts to him, your nipples harden at being exposed under his gaze. He takes his place in front of you, each one of your legs one either hip.

"Tell me Y/N," he starts as his hands glide up your thighs and rest just under your breasts. brushing this thumbs over your buds "Tell me....will you let me, make you mine?" he asked. His own way of asking permission, his hands leaving your breasts and coming up to intertwine his hands with yours

"...yes. Make me yours Noah," you squeeze his hand, confirming what you wanted. In an instant your hands where above your head as you feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He kisses you deeply as he pushes himself in, slowly but surely. You last orgasm letting his glide right, he stretched you and filled you in everyway you love.

"Oh fuck!" "Shit!" you both curse, you wrapped around him like a vice, so warm and wet for him. He rests there for a moment, letting you adjust.

"You feel...fucking amazing," his lips attack your neck as he starts to pump his hips into yours. Your body moving with each thrust, your head getting lighter, you pussy fluttering around him. Who would have thought that you would end up here, in Noah's bed, having the Best sex you had ever experienced. the way he rolled his hips against you, his lips dragging over your sweet spots, and the way his hand held your hips down on the mattress, and both your wrists over your head.

The sweat and warmth of your bodies together, the weight of his body on top of yours. The absolute dominance you can feel from him did something to your head, and your body. His hand brings one of your legs over his hip to get in deeper, The frame of the bed creeks with each thrust he takes. The rain muffled out in the background as it hit the glass window. You can hear Noah Huffing and groaning in your ear with each thrust he takes. His teeth grazing over the skin of your shoulder.

"Ah fuck right there!~" you moan

"There? Right here pretty girl?" He punctuates his sentence with a thrust, making you jump against him. feeling his cock rub against your spot deliciously. "This pussy...this pussy is mine! No one can make you cum like this...moan like this. Goddamn" You weren't the only one feeling amazing at the moment. Noah cannot deny that he was definitely a ladies man and has had his fair shares of hookups in one night stands. But he also could not deny what was happening in this moment.

For one, he was having sex for the first time with his wife, But there was something more behind it now. There was a feeling in his chest, A sense of pride, possession, and protectiveness. Having sex with you only made those feelings stronger, he felt his role as a husband was now more important than it was at the start. You were gorgeous, intelligent, and you felt incredible around him.

He was just like any man wanting to. have his pleasure, However, he wanted to give you every ounce of pleasure possible. He wanted to hear you moan, and scream his name. He wanted everyone to know who you belonged to. He wanted you to come over and over and over again, as long as it was because of him. He lets your hands go as his other arm wraps around your torso and brings you closer to his body as he continues to rut into you. Your arms swing around his back in scratch at the skin feeling. A familiar coil start to tighten in your stomach once again.

“Noah…mmm Noah…” you moan “a-are you….mine?” You asked him. His lips trail from your shoulder up your neck, and kiss your earlobe as he whispers into your ear.

“ you own me flower. Anything you want, anywhere you want to go, wherever, and whenever you need me. I’m yours.” he breathes into your ear. “And I’m….gonna make you….mine!”

His hands now hold both sides of your hips as he thrust into you. He brought your hips to meet his thrust as he fucks into you harder and deeper than before. His pulsing cock abusing that spot inside of you. Your nails rake down his back short to leave some red scratches by morning.

“N-Noah…I’m gonna…gonna…” you throw your head back onto the pillow, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as you begin to see stars behind your eyelids. You can strict around him tighter and tighter as he twitches inside of you, signaling his end. His teeth bite down on your shoulder with a few more messy thrust as he finally finishes inside of you. You too, were pushed over the edge in a body shattering orgasm. Your pussy milked him as he finishes off with just short thrust, riding out both of your orgasms.

The room was filled with panting as you both come down from your highs. His chest bumps against your as you start your breathing. He kisses the spot where he bit down on, apologizing for the temporary pain. Slowly he pulls out of you, watching as his come, oozes out of you. He looks back up at you, finding your flushed face and tired form just as beautiful. Healing down to give you a quick kiss.

“ how about a shower to clean up?” he offered.

“ Only if you scrub my back for me.” You negotiated a deal.

He chuckles “ even after two orgasms you’re still trying to negotiate deal with me?” This may have been the first time you ever seen a genuine smile out of Noah. “ You’re going to be the death of me, flower.” Pulling you up from the bed he wraps your legs around him once again, and carries you to a room connected to his bedroom.

He sets you down on the sink while he runs the water and waits for it to warm up. While you sat there, you can help but take a look at his body. He even has tattoos on his back, the largest piece in fact. Bite your bottom lip thinking about the next comment you were about to make.

“Hey Sebastian,” you call him, making him look over his shoulder “ has anyone told you have a nice ass?”

“ has anyone ever told you have a nice tits?” he fires back walking back to you. He kisses you again, takes a look in your eyes, and then kisses you, and again, and again, and again “ come on let’s get in” he takes your hand and leads you standing shower and closes the glass door. Grabbing the sponge and soap, he ladders it up and starts at your shoulders. Someone who did the type of work does, he sure was gentle with his hands when he came to a shower. Take notice of a second sponge and grab it, lathering it with soap as well as you start on his chest.

 after he finishes with your front, he turns you around and begins to scrub down your bed just as you had asked before. You left a warm water wash over your face and hair, feeling absolutely relaxed under the water and being scrubbed. However, while you were being washed, you felt something tap your ass. Behind you and out for what it was. You had us first expected Noah’s hands when instead you find his dick, hard once again.

“ you really are something else. It’s only been Five minutes.” Chuckled deciding to tease him a bit and push your ass back onto him

“ well it’s hard not to be when you’re in the shower, and with this ass in front of me” he bites his lip as he stinks, and grabs at your right ass cheek “who wouldn’t get hard again?” He lets the sponge drop, his free hand caressing the other cheek. He couldn’t help but grind against your ass, the supple and plush flesh, getting him riled up again.

Leaning forward you, you rest your hand on the shower wall and arch your back. The water cascaded down your back and over your curves beautifully. Noah felt as though he was looking a goddess. Being a lucky mortal who stumbled upon her sacred body.

“You ready for me again baby?” He asks lining himself up, he pushes himself inside once again. The force of him making you stumble forward just a bit. “Fuck…this ass is nice” he growls with a spank to the cheek.

“Might be better than yours…” your joke as you push back on to him, fucking yourself on to his cock “oh fuck….you’re so big..” the water running down your body dripping off your nipples and pussy only heightened your senses.

“Damn right…that’s right, fuck yourself…like a…good little slut” he growls as he thrusts in time with you “my slut. Sexy girl.” One of his hands finish your shoulder, giving him more leverage to pump into you at a better angle.

“Mm rub that clit for me, slut” he commands you, letting his eyes shut in Pleasure. Watching himself pumping in and out of you, your ass bouncing with each thrust, the erotic sounds of your moans and your pussy were straight from a fantasy. He stops his thrusts and just watches you pleasure yourself on his cock. Each time you came back all the way, your back would arch just a bit more. Your moan got just a bit more high bitched.

“Yeah that’s right…work for that creampie baby,” he chuckled “you want another one huh? Want to…fuck….to fill you up, have you dripping.”

“Yes Noah…please again…” you agree as you run your clit faster, feeling your legs shake beneath your weight

“Then cum for me princess, cum for me” rubbing your bud faster as he fucks you just as hard before, you squeal out a moan as your third orgasm shakes your form. Noah continues to fuck into your overstimulated cunt, your moans being fucked out of You uncontrollably.

“So fucking tight…just for…fucking…me!” He fucks your pussy with passion chasing his high again. Finally cumming inside once again. Your body felt warm and full in the best of ways. After tonight you were sure to sleep in tomorrow. Noah brings you back up from your position, to kiss your forehead. His thumbs running over your heated cheeks.

After cleaning up, again, he wraps a towel around you and hands you some of his clothes for you to sleep in. Climbing into his bed, you adjust the pillows to your comfort and slither under the covers. You lay on your side and watch Noah stride into the room, his boxers sat on his hips in a way that made his walk more attractive. He crawls in with you and lays on his side, facing you. His head being held up by his hand as his other came to pick a strand of hair out of your face.

“…are you feeling okay?” He asked you as He observed your features. The way your lips curved and dipped, the shape of your nose, your eyelashes, the heavy blink of your eyelids.

“Yeah…im feeling…good” you answer as a yawn took over your form

“Why don’t you close those pretty eyes little flower? Get some rest.” He offers with a soft smile, something you had never seen before. It made your stomach flip around to see it

“Noah…” you call out to him

“Yes Y/N?”

“…….who are you?” You asked ironically again

“well,” he thinks about his answer as he scoots closer and lays an arm over your waist “I’m…who you need me to be.” He answers

You yawn and let your head fall heavy on to the pillow. Slowly blinking, each one heavier than the last, feeling sleep take over your consciousness.

“Noah I’m….im…sorry” you hush, feeling yourself slip into sleep. He waits a few moments, waiting for your breath to even out. Deep, slow breaths, your mind drifting into your dream land. Reaching over your body he turns off the lamp. He kisses the top of your head and tucks your body into his chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered

He hears his phone vibrate, a notification from his work. He began To reach for it, but stood and pulls his hand back. It could wait until morning, but for now he wanted to hold you. As he held you during the stormy night he stared out of the window and thought to himself.

Did she change me? What have I done? Was this what she wanted? Can I….am I capable of being a husband?…what about the contract…what about….

He shakes his head gently at the thoughts and simply breaths in your scent. You smelled like his soap, but your perfume still lingered slightly. He liked it….he liked you….

He…

He…….

̩͙‿‿༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ̩͙‿

[Taglist🥃] @darling-millicent-aubrey @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @cowpokeomens @lenevalentine @lizzyanthony3 @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @missduffsblog @shilohrosechicken @sorrowsofsilence @thescarlettvvitch @twyftwyt @thefallennightmare @thecartelqueen @cind6547 @niicoleleigh @lilhobgobbler @crimson-calligraphyx @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @just-pretend-again @thenoahsebastianfiles @lacktoesandtoddlerants @reader13000 @badomensls @chemicaltendancies @iknownothingpeople @thebadchic @ladispo0p @samanthasgone @laurpartyprogram @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @flowery-mess

[lavendermoonlitskies]

2024 Fic Roundup

Thanks @bellisima-writes for the tag!

What fandoms do you write for?

Only Good Omens. I can’t explain why but that show has been the only one that has ever inspired me this much.

How many words have you published in 2024?

Oh wow I just checked and I guess that would be 41,513 in total 🙈

What is your greatest achievement this year?

I was pretty proud of Dream A Little Dream of Me when I finished that, but now I guess I’d say that my greatest achievement is not giving up on a story I believe in (current WIP) despite everything that has happened in the fandom as well as in my personal life. I don’t expect it to reach “fandom classic” status, it’s probably going to end up flying somewhat under the radar, but that’s okay. I don’t need a lot of attention as some sort of “reward” for my hard work, I just want to write.

What are your top 3 favorite fics you wrote this year?

The Road Less Traveled (WIP)

Rating: unrated

Word count (current): 12,143

The road is Crowley’s only friend in the wake of Aziraphale’s departure. Endless landscapes, filled with the memories of a simpler time, becoming nothing more than a blur as the demon drove impossibly fast to avoid even a glance in its direction.

Maybe he’s running from his past, but is it truly possible to run forever?

It’s A Big, Lonely Universe Out There

Rating: Mature

Word count: 5,618

Crowley softened, watching Aziraphale’s terrified eyes imagine the lonely existence he was dangerously close to. He began to feel the drafty air in Heaven that was just a little bit too cold, a headache forming from the blinding white that covered every inch of that space. The looming threat of being tossed into the fiery pits of Hell over the tiniest hint of disobedience, with nobody there to come to his rescue. The cold stares of his colleagues, each and every one of them glaring at him with disdain and disapproval over the blasphemous ways in which he’d chosen to spend his time on earth. It was cold, so cold.

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

***

It's 1941 in London, England, and Aziraphale & Crowley have had a very eventful evening. The night is almost over when they're sat in the middle of a dimly-lit bookshop, wine glasses in hand. Things may start to go awry when they get a little too drunk, and start admitting things they probably shouldn't.

Find Me In Your Dreams, My Dear/Le Chant du Rossignol (Song of the Nightingale)

Parts 1 and 4 of Dream A Little Dream of Me. Part 1 was the first time I stepped out of my shell a little bit and had someone beta read, and I was really happy with the final product after that (thanks @serenity-black !). You definitely have to read parts 2 and 3 in order to understand what’s going on in Le Chant, but I felt better about how part 4 was written. I guess the more action-packed parts of the stories I write are not totally my strong suit, maybe I’m better at the emotional aspect; what’s going on in these characters’ heads before and after the big event.

What have you learned?

From a technical standpoint I learned a lot about formatting/basic grammar rules for writing a story with dialogue and all that 😅

But I’ve also learned a lot more about myself and what I apparently love to do. Big thanks to the GO fandom for reintroducing me to the joys of reading and writing 🥰

Also I researched a fuckton of random topics for these works, and anyways now I’m a lot more familiar with the map of Europe and I know a lot about Centaurus/Alpha Centauri

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

I tried joining one of those fic bangs this spring because I thought it would bring me more out of my shell, and it kind of did in a way but overall it just didn’t work out. I was excited about collaborating with people and making connections, but it wasn’t exactly like that and the fic itself just wasn’t sparking anything in me. It felt more like a job than something I was doing for fun 🤷‍♀️

Did you beta any fics?

I honestly don’t remember lmao

I don’t think so?

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Phersu by JunKolt

I absolutely LOVE any fics that place Aziraphale and Crowley in different moments in history, especially when you can tell that the writer really did their research and the historical accuracy is THERE. Beautifully written, romantic, very bittersweet.

Don’t Fall Away From Me by @phoen1xr0se

Technically I read this at the very end of 2023 but I’m counting it anyway

If this fic has no fans I am dead. Fr. Absolutely brilliant. Bravo fellow moot👏👏👏

run across the river (just to hold you tonight) by hope_in_the_dark

Yk I had to throw in a short one just for good measure

Short, sweet, beautiful writing. Perfect for a lil bed time story from time to time, as a treat

Who do you want to thank?

The first one who comes to mind is @thavron who asked me to join their writing group for November (now continuing on into December ofc)! Without the little extra push that your server has given me, I honestly don’t know that I would’ve kept going with my current WIP despite how much I do believe in it. Big thanks ✌️💜

Thanks to @serenity-black (and also Aves whose Tumblr I don’t believe I have if they’re even on here) for beta-reading! It felt weirdly vulnerable to ask someone to take a look at my writing and tell me what they thought but I’m glad I did it and thank you for being so encouraging when you did��️

Thank you to @thinkinginscripts @butterflywithsass and @manicpixiecatlady for working with me on the “fanfic book club” for the Good Omens fandom! I think it’s been wonderful so far 🥰

And a big thank you to every person who has left a nice comment on my works, you have no idea what that means to me

Happy holidays! ✌️🎄

[ruewrote]

𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: ... GENRE: fluff to angst SONG INSPIRATION: crybaby by the neighbourhood WORD COUNT: 1.1k

navigation | ask | outer banks masterlist

you never thought you would find yourself in this position. sat impatiently, leg bouncing as you waited to tutor jj maybank at your local library.

eyes flickering from the books that lay splayed across the table and your phone screen every so often, he was an hour late. biting on the edge of your freshly manicured nails, somewhere deep down you knew you shouldn't have agreed to help him. not because of him specifically, but it's not like he was exactly known for being on time.

you finally decided that you'd waited long enough, starting to pack away your things when a loud bang rang throughout the room, looking over and of course, there stood jj.

his hair disheveled, vest on backward, his cheeks red as he bent over trying to catch his breath, "i'm sorry, i'm...late ugh!" the blonde exclaimed as he threw himself in the chair beside you, getting a loud shh! from the librarian.

he winced, quietly apologizing to her, still slightly out of breath as he faced you. you pushed your unopened bottle of water toward him, offering a kind smile.

"so what exactly are you needing help with?" you asked whilst flicking through your notebook trying to find a clear page, stopping when you heard his response.

"everything..."

he was behind on all of his work but it was mostly science and history he was struggling with most. that sunday evening the two of you went through the ins and out of what you were gonna do and when you were gonna help him with them.

you both agreed that you'd mostly do the work on weekdays and very occasionally on saturdays, scribbling down the rough draft of the timetable on a piece of paper so you could rewrite it for him later. not missing how his eyes would sneakily trail from your eyes to your lips.

you didn't mention it, but felt your face heat up as you continued to write.

"wouldn't it just be easier if i gave you my number and you could send it to me?" he questioned with a lopsided smile, sort of reminding you of a golden retriever.

snapping out of your thoughts, eagerly nodding saying something like why didn't i think of that sooner? jj reached into his back pocket, sliding out his phone before leaning closer, and handing it to you.

your nails tapped lightly against his cracked android screen as you wrote your information in, then handed it back.

half an hour later you both decided a day to meet up at your house for your first official study session, zipping up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder following jj out of the library.

he pushed the door open for himself then held it open for you with his fingertips so you could walk out after him.

you both said your goodbyes and went your separate ways, you glanced behind you, thinking that he was nothing like how your friends described him to be. besides being late, he was pretty laid back but still took what you were saying seriously.

people judge too much.

people were right.

now on one of your many late-night study sessions with jj dramatically laid on your lap, trying to get you to take a break.

"c'mon all i'm asking is a teeny tiny break, please? my brain hurts." he sat up straight and pouted at you whilst rubbing small circles into his temples.

rolling your eyes giving in, you nodded and he stood up to cheer a little too fast and wobbly sat back down on the bed holding his head in his hands.

"ouch."

pushing yourself off of your mattress, holding your hand out for him to take, "i think this calls for a movie and pizza hm?" a sweet smile plastered on your face, he almost instantly grasps your hand in his, letting you pull him in the direction of the stairs.

thirty minutes go by, the pizza had arrived and the movie was set up. it was his turn to pick what to watch, you were expecting a horror movie. you weren't really a huge fan of scary stuff, but he had been working really hard recently and had done so well on his exams so how could you say no?

you both got settled on the couch, covered by a blanket. jj hit play on the remote, that's when the big bold letters pretty woman displayed on the tv.

you stopped midchew, looking over to the boy who was struggling to get the end of the pizza into his mouth, achieving his goal he smiled happily to himself freezing when he turned to you and saw you were already looking at him.

"what? it's a classic!" he grinned mouth full of pizza and you playfully grimaced at him. you turned your attention back onto the tv, not noticing how he was silently admiring you.

that night you forgot all about studying and having a movie marathon instead, you both needed it. well, that was until j got an urgent call and had to rush home.

it had been a couple of days went by and there was no sign of jj. not one call, not one text. it worried you, the little time you spent together had admittedly impacted you a lot.

so when you sat down at your desk in history and his seat a couple of rows in front of yours was empty again, it made that pit of anxiety in your stomach worsen.

after the bell rang indicating it was the end of the day, you biked straight to his house, using the information he had sent you in a message in the early stages of knowing you.

you slowly came to a stop as you had gotten to your destination, the yellow house run down, vines growing up the side, and the sound of metal clanging alerted you.

leaning your bike up against the wall, straightening the hem of your skirt out, eyes drifting from the overgrown grass to the front door you stood at. a wave of nausea hits you, an eery silence hung over the building.

your knuckles tap a small rhythm into the wood, "get the door!" hearing loud almost angry footsteps on the other side getting closer until it's swung open and you met with a bruised jj.

"i got it..." he shouts back, but cuts himself short when he realizes it's you, quickly looking back into the house before stepping outside with you, closing it carefully.

"what are you doing here?" his words came out panicked. his eyes frantically scanning the area, but yours were focused on the bruises that littered his face, lifting your shaking hand up to his cheek.

"who did this to you?" ignoring his question, trying to figure out who could do something like this to him. he leaned into your touch, but quickly snapped out of it going back to freaking out again.

"uh- i'm okay, seriously! you need to go. i promise ill see you on monday." before you could object, he stepped back into the house shutting the door behind him, leaving you on your own.

© ruewrote.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Soobin and Beomgyu Dynamic Reading

Okay, now to this bond. I really enjoy this bickering duo. They are so fun to watch, but I do see these two have a lot of love and admiration for another, so it will be interesting to see what I can from the cards and energy. I do love to hear that Beomgyu is texting him every day lol What would you expect from a loyal and communicative friend like Beomgyu. I adore him, even though he can be a bit much, still love him. I do see these two supporting each other a lot from what I see, but let's see what the cards say. Okay, there energy is a bit scattered. The cards look nice, but seems there are a lot of life lessons for them to learn as a duo at the moment.

Overall energy: So, we start with the House 8, this reminds me of Scorpio energy and The Death card, that also popped up in Soobin's energy. Now, to me there is some sort of ending, transformation they are going through in their dynamic. There are life lessons they need to learn, and they also need to learn the art of letting go. Oh, just thought of their channeled song, The Art of Letting Go by Mariah Carey.

Now, they also got the Devil card, this card is about attachment and control, so there could be an attachment these two have to another. It may be very difficult for these two to be away from another. Also, both cards have something about fears, so this fear of being apart is probably being addresses at the moment. This is interesting. Now, I can see why Beomgyu texts him every day. There is this strong attachment these two have to one another. I wasn't expecting them to have this energy.

Soobin's energy: So, his archetypes cards are cute. He got the Healer, so even though he is going through his own stuff. He seems to try best to help Beomgyu. There is a healing energy he has that helps comfort Beomgyu in times of need. I can see him doing things to make Beomgyu feel better. I wonder if he reminds Beomgyu of his Mom. I don't see the Empress card, but the Healer card picture just reminds me of that.

He also has the initiator card, so he takes the control and inititave when it comes to this bond. I can see Beomgyu liking that. I always get the sense Beomgyu likes others to take the lead, so he may feel comfortable with Soobin, due to that.

Now, with this 6 of Swords, this shows Soobin isn't trying to get too emotionally overwhelmed right now with what is going on with him. He is trying to keep his head above water, so he may not show he is too troubled about things with Beomgyu. He may try to keep his cool. I am not getting Soobin is in a bad place. Now, with this Death card. Soobin is about transformation and ending and with the Chariot he is all about forward movement.

He doesn't want to dwell on things too much. He may want to show courage and strength when it comes to Beomgyu. Beomgyu may push him to find the courage and strength. He may energize him. Now, with this Taurus energy, this shows there is a lot of trust and support among the two from Soobin's end. The keyword direct is popping up to me, they are completely upfront and honest with each other no doubt. They tell each other how it is. And it seems they both have a sense of responsibility to one another. This is cute.

So, his guidance is Sandpiper Spirit and the message is be playful. I just think this may tell him to have fun with things when it comes to Beomgyu and continue showing a fun spirit when it comes to Beomgyu. I just keep getting that they shouldn't overthink things when it comes to Beomgyu. Just go with the flow. Beomgyu is pretty carefree when it comes to friendships, so he should be this way too, try not to be too logical with him. He doesn't run on logic.

Beomgyu's energy: His energy is cute too, so he starts with the Lover card. He is very loving and nurturing when it comes to Soobin. Now, this shadow trait speaks to me as well, since this goes along with their overall energy. He can be very clingy and attached to him as well. It is hard for him to let go of him. This energy is so interesting to me. I didn't realize they had this strong attachment. With the Child Divine he tries to be of hope and light to Soobin. He tries his best to comfort him with love and positive energy.

I can also see this with the Star card he got as well. He gives Soobin a lot of hope and optimism. I just see him being a bright light to him. And giving him lots of hugs whenever he can. Now, with this Wheel of Fortune, he seems to be all about forward movement. I feel this card is telling him he has to move forward and go on without him for now, or he is now aware of this.

Now, with the World card he is starting to understand this. He is gaining a new perspective on the whole situation. I can also see him being and feeling complete when Soobin is around. He just prefers all the members together. He is waiting for that moment when they are all together.

Now, we finish with the Ace of Cups, this also popped out for Soobin, but put this back, since he had enough cards, so they both got a lot of love for each other. They may cry in front of another and be completely vulnerable with another. I always see this card in a dynamic as a building of a new bond or two people connecting over something. So, there is a strong connection here. I see them pouring out their emotions to one another.

To his guidance we got Parrot spirit which states watch your words. I laughed when this popped up. Beomgyu got a mouth on him no doubt, so this may be urging him to not speak too quickly on things regarding Soobin. He may unintentionally say hurtful things, due to him being overly emotional, so he has to be careful with that. I feel him on this, because I can be this way too. When we are upset, we hurt with words, so this is telling him to work on that. Just be careful of the words he uses.

Wow, this group probably has the best dynamics of the groups I have done so far. I always felt this group was close, so it is nice to see it in the cards. Also, this was another easy one to read, much easier than the TaeJin one, so this shows they blend well together, but also, both are chatter boxes, so I don't have to do much work here. The words just flow through me. I don't know, but this made me highly interested in Yeonjun and Beomgyu's dynamic. I want to see Beomgyu's energy there. I might step away from a Beomgyu dynamic next weekend though. I have done mostly his, so want to step to other members, but the week after that. I am getting to that one!

[starfish-enterprise]

Reasons I think Alanna the Lioness is is autistic:

since realizing I'm autistic, the more I think about it the more Alanna seems autistic to me. the only books I've listened to recently are Tortall books by going through them all then going back to the first one and listening to them all again (Immortals quartet, the Bekka Cooper books, the Song of the Lioness, Protector of the Small quartet, the trickster books, then Tempests and Slaughter.) going through them again and again I notice more things that I didn't when I was a kid (obviously,) and I'm more aware of the signs of autism since realizing I'm autistic. anyway here are my reasons:

is a girl and wants to be a knight, then actually does become a knight which goes against the societal norms of the time

becomes friends with George, and many others in the court of the rogue, who are in a different social class. she does start out believing nobles shouldn't marry commoners but she gets over that. two of her three romantic relationships are with commoners

she also becomes friends with the soldiers she and John are stationed with when they're fighting in the Drell river valley, and she eats with them instead of going to the fort to eat with the other nobles. she thinks it's silly for them to travel so far when it's more convenient to just eat in camp, which illustrates her disregard of social hierarchies. she is also open to learning from people considered to be "below" her

Alanna fights Ralon of Malven over and over even though she keeps losing, which could indicate she has really strong moral beliefs. she also talks a lot about how she hates lying to her friends

she is described as different from her friends, after yelling at them about how she doesn't want to go swimming, Garry (I think) says "you seem to think we won't like you if you don't do what everyone else does, but did you ever think we like you because you're different?" (not an exact quote but basically

most of Alanna's friends are older than her, in The First Adventure when John asks if she can come to Persopolis, the book says she's thought of as more of "a very small squire" than as a page. autistic people often relate better to people who are older or younger than them than to their peers

throughout the series Alanna is distressed by changes in her body like developing breasts and says multiple times she wishes she were born a boy. this is in direct contrast to Kel who states on several occasions she likes being a girl. this could be because she has to pretend to be a boy, but autistics are more likely to be trans or gender nonconforming

she is described as being very uncomfortable at parties and in social settings

autism is highly heritable (1) her father has several autistic traits. he is very focused on his academic pursuits to the point that he neglects everything else, he doesn't have any friends and doesn't seem interested in any kind of social interaction, he has the fixed rigid belief that all magic is bad because it couldn't save the twins' mother. according to Sir Gareth he had been that way since he was a child. (2) Tom seems to share a lot of these traits with his father. he is also very focused on his studies although he is studying magic, he leaves the management of Trebond to Alanna because he is not interested in it just being a mage, he also seems to have no interest in having friends or being social. according to an NIH study that came up when I googled it if one twin is autistic the other is also autistic 96% of the time

Alanna has to very consciously learn the social expectations and rules for being a boy and being a girl

Alanna goes to Miles for advice a lot, in one of the books it literally says she talks to him so he can explain why people act the way they do and for him to explain their motivations

she is known for her temper and saying what's on her mind very bluntly

she has a talking cat who's basically her best friend if that isn't autistic coded idk what is

there are probably more things I can't think of right now so I might add more later who knows. I also wrote most of this post before and it randomly deleted itself so I'm not sure if I remembered all of my points from before unfortunately.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #19] Send To All

warnings: plot stuff!! no smut!!! another cw: jiyeong lol

a/n: this header not being square drives me insane and i could fix it but reuploads are laborious enough as it is lol

soundtrack: self-sabotage - waterparks (this is one of THE bd songs for me hehe)

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

If time flies when you're having fun, then you think it's fair to say you're having the worst day of your life.

Okay, so that's a little dramatic, but your shift has been excruciatingly slow; the hands of the clock above the door taunting you every time you glance in its direction. Admittedly, you are looking at it every 10 seconds or so,  which is making it a hell of a lot more disappointing than it really ought to be.

From the desk, Hoseok watches you with sympathetic intrigue. You've cleaned the same empty table four times now just for something to do. Work is quiet, so distractions are limited.

You had only picked up an extra shift so you that didn't have to spend the entire afternoon letting your imagination run wild thinking about Jeongguk's date - but apparently, your mind didn't get the memo.

The thoughts trundle around your boardgame brain; passing 'go', collecting £200. It skips over the chance card tiles, and opts out of buying anything other than Mayfair. It's the only property you want, and yet you never seem to land on it. Sucks, but such is life.

"You'll wear a hole through the table if you keep scrubbing at it," Hoseok says softly as he takes the cloth from you.

"Sorry," you hum. An awkward smile is offered, as loose hairs fall around your face, glitter caught in the strands that dance in the low evening light. You're even more haphazard than usual today, Hoseok thinks. You choose to explain it away. "Just nervous about Tae's show. That's all. Trying to get a head start on things."

"It's an art space," he says warmly, not wanting you to think he's being critical. The way he smiles is gentle; the creases in the corner of his eyes are even more so. "No one is expecting it to be free of paint. If anything, quite the opposite."

He's right. You know it. It's why you make no opposition when he encourages you back to the desk, and guides you into the chair by the till. There's only one couple in the far corner. Young. Teenagers, maybe. You wonder if they'll make it through university. Likely not.

Cynical bint, you berate yourself. Plenty of people stay with their high school sweethearts. You'd met potentially the best example you'd ever seen of the cliche last night, in the form of the Min's.

You understand entirely why Yoongi adores Seoyeon, so. There had been an ease to her acceptance of you; as if she was inherently meant to nurture those around her, no matter how unfamiliar they may be. By the time you had left the Min's - a little tipsy and with Jeongguk's arm around your shoulders - you'd felt a warm sense of belonging in her company.

There's quiet concern on Hoseok's face a little while later as he watches you dip your bagel into a pot of cream cheese.

The magnitude of his concern only increases when you sink your teeth into the bread and tear it apart.  You're like a tiger ripping apart raw flesh, he thinks.

The scowl that settles on your lips as you chew is only wiped away when you take a sip of your coffee - but there's still a frown polluting your expression.

It's sort of cute how your cheek bulges from the sheer amount of bagel your manage to stuff in there, but Hoseok's worried you'll choke.

"Want a knife?" he asks as you dip the bagel back into the pot.

You look at him - bagel clamped between your teeth, just about to be torn in two - and scowl. Yanking the bagel, you tear it even further apart. He gulps. Shouldn't have asked. Never interrupt a girl and her food. He knows this. Should have known better.

It's just a bad mood, you think. No need for Hoseok to look at you as if you have three heads.

Just a bad mood.

Across town, in a ceramic painting place you've been following on Instagram for ages now but have never visited, Jeongguk laughs.

There's a dimple sitting prettily in his cheek, his teeth on full display, nose a little bit scrunched. He's trying to be quiet - doesn't want to distract the rest of the people in the pottery studio - but there's something so damn funny about Jiyeong's inability to paint anything that even remotely resembles a frog.

She pouts, and lowers her brush. "Stop! I'm trying!"

But then she smiles, too.

No one else notices. They're all far too distracted by their own masterpieces.

It's annoying, because Jeongguk really has created a masterpiece.

Having both been totally clueless as to what to decorate their mugs with, the ceramics instructor suggested taking inspiration from their favourite childhood fairytales. Jeongguk had gone for Little Red Riding Hood - Jiyeong had taken great pleasure in telling him she'd been Little Red for Halloween - and Jiyeong had gone for the Princess and the Frog.

"I know," he grins, as he tries to pretend as if it's not the most god-awful frog he's ever seen. It's kinda cute. In a hideous, kind of way. "You're doing great - no! Really. You are it. It's like... an abstract version of the story."

"Look," she sighs, her pretty face all pouty and perfect despite her hardships. The smile on her face is genuine, and Jeongguk is sort of glad that she's not great at the whole 'art' thing. He doubts it would be half as much fun if she was any good. "Your friend never mentioned there'd be art involved - I fucking suck at arty things."

"Art is subjective-" he goes to reassure her, but she's having none of it. Shakes her head as she laughs. Makes him laugh too. It's easy. The flirting, the fooling around like kids in art class. Almost nostalgic. She's exactly the kind of girl he'd have gone for in his younger years - confident, a reckless tease, remarkably tactile. It makes him wonder why he ever strayed from his 'type'.

Hayun had been a bit of an anomaly. Different. She was a quiet one - cautious, but casual. Funny in a way that Jeongguk couldn't quite understand, but desperately wanted to. Reserved. His childishness had often been met with rolled eyes, and the lack of clear indication about her feelings made him insecure. Put him on edge. Even when they started hooking up. Actually, no. Especially when they had started hooking up.

His strangeness has been making a welcome comeback as of late, as noted by Yoongi a few months ago in Dionysus. You've helped in immeasurable ways. Ways you won't ever be able to understand.

It's Jiyeong's openness - the way she touches his arm, how she dabs at his fingers with her paintbrush - that lets him know she's interested. It stifles the fear. Fills him with confidence.

"You're allowed to say I suck," she grins, leaning into him a little bit. The scent of her perfume picks up in the electric heater, and he finds that he likes it. It's not his favourite, no, but it's pretty nice. Citrusy. He prefers things a little warmer, a little more vanilla. Toasted coconut. Sweet.

He momentarily loses his train of thought. Thinks about the way your hair had smelt in the bakery aisle of the supermarket. Thinks about the way he always lets his nose nestle into the crown of your head before you shower together. Thinks about your room, and how it smells like that - sweet, coconutty - and how the last time he'd been in your room, he'd been inside of-

NOPE.

That thought is very quickly pushed deep down into the darkness of his brain. He can't be thinking about that . Not now.

"Yeah, it's pretty fucking bad," he nods instead, turning his attention back to her mug.

It's impossible for her to take offence when he looks as sweet as he does. He's in a white shirt - bad choice, considering there are speckles of paint all over his arms and even a tiny bit on his cheek - and black slacks, but the look is pulled off so well.

In fact, his outfit is borderline identical to what he wore to the Min's. You'd said he'd looked good. Said that it would be a good date outfit.  And so he'd listened, and had been proven right when Jiyeong complimented his style choice within the first five minutes of the date.

Admittedly, he'd complimented her first. Said that she looked nice, after about a thousand awkward, bashful smiles and half a dozen 'this is so weird,' and just as many 'I'm so sorry she forced you into this.'

Jiyeong had smiled, and assured him it was okay. "I'm glad she did."

And as Jeongguk meets you outside the gym the following morning, he can't help but agree.

He's still got a glow about him; fresh-faced and unwavering despite the rigorous workout you know he must have had. Part of you is glad. Him being at the gym means she at least didn't stay over - which would have been totally fine! You absolutely wouldn't have minded. Wouldn't have bothered you in the slightest . In fact, maybe it would have been better if she had stayed-

Okay, you can't even convince yourself that you believe it, but that's not the point.

He walks with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets, shoulders a little hunched from the cold air. He's missing a jacket, which is unlike him, you think. You can't tell if there's a blush on his cheeks or if it's just windburn. Maybe both.

"Hello, Casanova," you greet him, smile fond, eyes earnest. The words are lively and melodic as they dance from your lips to his ears, yet the strings of your heart seem to pluck a little out of tune. You just need to adjust them slightly. Tune them. That's all.

"Don't call me that," he shakes his head - but he's smiling. There's a shyness to him. It's not all too unfamiliar, but it's something you've not seen in a while.

"So?" You beam, pushing it aside as you both begin to walk in the direction of 'home'. "How did it go?"

Jeongguk nods as he tries to formulate words. There's a smile on his lips. You can hear it as he speaks. "Good. Yeah... yeah, no, good. Really fun, actually."

"Okay, no, stop being coy," you laugh. "Give me details!"

Jeongguk pauses for a second as he tries to get a read on your face. There's nothing outwardly wrong, he thinks, but he notices that you're avoidant. Your eyes don't linger on his. The smile that comes with your laughter doesn't last as long as it usually does. He doesn't like it.

So he gives you what you ask for, because he thinks that might help. Maybe you've been nervous for him. It's his fault - he forgot to text you back last night, having gone for drinks after the ceramics place. Time had slipped away from him.

He tells you everything - how bad she is at painting (you enjoy this, because you like being better than her at least at something), how she'd suggested a drink afterwards, and how he'd walked her home at 2 AM because apparently neither of them wanted to stop talking. He tells you how he hadn't been brave enough to do anything other than walk, but she'd moaned about the cold and so he'd given her his jacket.

Poor Jeongguk had been so warm from soju and giddy from a date gone well that he hadn't even realised he was jacketless until he was about halfway home.

It explains his lack of a jacket now. You've a heat pack in your pocket. Part of you tells you not to pass it over to him. Would serve him right for being so careless.

And as much as you enjoy being a bitch, you also don't enjoy hearing his teeth chatter together. You say nothing as you pass it over, and push him toward the alleyway that leads up to his favourite brunch spot. At least going there will get him out of the cold.

"I'm so happy for you," you smile. You don't think you're lying. "I told you that you could do it!"

Jeongguk is slow in his reply again, almost as if he's weary of saying the wrong thing. It comes from a place of fear; memories of Hayun, and her reaction the first time Jeongguk had started seeing someone during their friendship. It had been before anything had developed between the pair of them, but it was the first time he'd clued up to the fact maybe she'd have been interested in more.

If he were to explain this, you'd tell him to fuck off for associating you so closely with her. You've never met her, but have convinced yourself that you couldn't be less like her even if you tried. You're nothing like the girl who broke his heart, and you never intend on being anything like her, either.

Then again, can't break his heart if the pair of you never fall for each other - and given the giddy smile on his lips all thanks to Jiyeong, you highly doubt that would ever be an option, anyways.

Seeing him like this - hopeful - makes your heart swell. He deserves happiness. Deserves the world. Or at least, deserves someone who makes him feel like he has the whole world in his palm whenever he holds them close.

"I owe you," he beams, as he beelines for his favourite booth, passing a quick nod to the cashier as she welcomes your arrival. It's so warm in the cafe that Jeongguk thinks he might die. The sudden temperature change is torture. "She, uh - she actually asked if I wanted to hang out next weekend, too. Obviously, I said no-"

"NO?! Obviously?!" You almost shriek, the back of your hand gently smacking against his arm. "You said no?! I thought you said it went well?!"

"It did!"

You don't understand why he's shrieking too, when he's the one who's gone and fucked up all of your hard work.

"Then why the fuck would you say no?!"

"Because!" he interrupts before you go off on a tangent, without hearing him out. "Next weekend is Tae's art show. Show on Saturday, and Sunday is free in case we get fucked up afterwards."

He shakes his head towards you, eyes wide, brows lifted, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world - and now that he's mentioned it, you think he's right.

Good, old, dependable Jeongguk. Wouldn't forget his friend's important events for anything. Not even one of the hottest girls in the whole downtown area could make him forget.

Though if you said this out loud, he'd smirk, and tell you that one of the hottest girls in the downtown area is the reason he remembers.

But it's Tae's event, not yours. He knows that you'd tell him off for framing things in such a way. Plus, the date with Jiyeong really did go well. The idea of acting a little sleazy just for a cheap joke doesn't appeal to him. It would feel distasteful.

And yet it feels wrong not to make the joke. A week ago? He would have done. Your dynamic, though largely unchanged, is different now. There are boundaries that come with dating; ones that he knows damn well to respect, no matter how early on it is.

He never wanted things between you to change. He'd have happily kept things as they were.

Progress has been made, though; a purpose has been served.

He'd never describe your friendship as transactional, but it seems to have worked out that way.

Makes him feel guilty. The feeling simmers in his stomach as he sits beside you, nibbling at his bottom lip. His hands are stuffed into his trouser pockets as he reclines into his chair; a little closed off, but not enough to make you question it.

It's only when you reach over to nudge him - and say, 'hey?' - that he realises he's completely zoned out.

"Hmm?"

"Invite her," you say softly. "To Tae's event. Invite her along. We could do with more guaranteed attendees, and I'm gonna be schmoozing people all night with Tae, so at least you'll have someone to keep you company."

Plus Nabi's invited and you really don't fancy having to deal with her. If Jiyeong can win her over, that's one less thing you have to worry about.

"Invite her?"

"Yeah?"

"You sure?"

"No," you say with so much sarcasm Jeongguk can't help but smile. "I just said it for the fun of saying things."

"That is the kind of thing you'd do," he defends with a cheeky little grin as he sits up straighter. "I just don't wanna... I don't know. Move too fast?"

"It's not like you're inviting her to meet your parents - unless you've also invited them to Tae's?"

"No," he laughs. "Of course I haven't."

"Then you're golden," you assure him.

An extra attendee is an extra attendee at the end of the day. Hell, you think you'd even let Hayun through the door if it looked better for Tae.

"On the subject of golden," Jeongguk sighs as he gets to his feet. "French toast? Iced Americano?"

You nod. Smile a little bashfully. Hate that he knows you so well. Watch him as he walks away, and admire his ass a little (in a friendly way). He's just been at the gym working on it, so you tell yourself he'd appreciate the 'appreciation'.

Your eyes are drawn from his 'assets' when his phone vibrates on the table. You don't let them linger, but you see very clearly that it's an incoming message from Jiyeong. You're not sure it would be considered 'friendly' if you 'accidentally' dropped his phone into the coffee of the woman sitting behind you, but you consider it for a moment. An impulsive thought. That's all. Like when you're driving, and think about the fact you could swerve off the road, or like when Jeongguk gets too close and you think that maybe you could kiss him.

Not anymore, though. That ship has sailed. Lost at sea. Never to be found again. Maybe one day, many many years from now, explorers will find the lost treasure: gold-adorned artworks, swathes of origami birds and more glitter than any single ship could ever hold. Or maybe they won't.

Maybe you're romanticising something that never was for something it will never be.

Who knows? Best not to tempt fate with such mindless dillydallying.

Especially not when you know you're gonna spend the next half an hour convincing him to text her back and just bloody invite her to the show.

You're not sure if you should be pleased or disappointed when it only takes fifteen minutes to convince him. Pleased, you suppose. That's what you tell him you are, at least.

And pleased is also what he is when she replies immediately saying that she'd 'love' to come. Asks for a dress code and a ticket price. Wastes no time. Keen .

(If you were gonna be a bitch (which for some reason is coming naturally today) you'd think she was desperate (but then you remind yourself that you set up this date (with her (because you knew she was keen (can hardly be annoyed about it now, can you? (Stupid))))).

"Cocktail dress, and no ticket price," you smile, as if your brain isn't exhausting you. "She's your plus one. Mates rates."

He asks if you're sure. You tell him yes.

You don't tell him that you've already put the cost of two tickets - yours and his - in the kitty. Everyone else is paying. The pair of you were never going to be an exception - supporting Tae's show is more important than an extra 15,000won in your bank account. You'll just add a little extra for Jiyeong's ticket. No biggie.

Once brunch is done, and Jeongguk has just about finished teasing you for texting the details of Tae's show to Seokjin (you thought the 'send to all' function could be your friend, but forgot that your own inability to delete his number is your biggest flaw), you head in separate directions. Both heading home.

And yet as Jeongguk presses his bedroom door shut only to see a paper bird propped up by his pillows, he can't help but feel like home is across the other side of the city.

Strange.

Not really, though.

Not when you're flopping face-first onto your bed with a groan, and a mumble of an acknowledgement that you'd really rather Jeongguk not bring his new squeeze along.

"Wassup?" Danbi calls through from her room.

Rolling onto your back, you sigh. Look at your ceiling, that's void of birds, and ignore the message that comes through from Seokjin, finally responding to the show invite.

"We have any wine in the fridge?" You call back through to her.

"Always."

"Wanna get fucked up?"

Danbi laughs. You hear her head to the kitchen, and the clink of wine glasses gently knocking together as she opens up the fridge. "Always."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[matthewkniesys]

full machine - nico hischier

summary: it was a one night stand. it shouldn't have turned into anything else. but then it became a second night and then a third and eventually it became feelings. but nico couldn't ever have the same feelings right?

a/n: this doesn't fully match with the lyrics cause i wanted to make a happy ending but yeah. all the lyrics are in bold. this is based off the song full machine by gracie abrams, which i highly recommend listening to. this is the third fic in the good riddance fic series. you don't have to read the other fics before this one. i hope you like it.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ themes no actual smut though, swearing, drinking, reader making poor decisions and angst with a happy ending

good riddance fic series

Nico wasn’t one for committed relationships. You didn’t think you were either. You just got out of a shitty relationship and you just wanted to have fun. But he was Nico Hischier and you were supposed to just pretend he didn’t make your heartbeat a million miles a minute? 

 You and Nico hooked up one night at a bar in New Jersey thinking that was all it was gonna be. A one night stand. Emphasis on one night. You knew who he was but you didn’t care. You were just trying to get over a shitty ex and he was trying to get over the devils being knocked out in the second round. It was a match made in heaven and it led to really good sex. You two spent the night together and then said goodbye, not expecting to see each other ever again. Obviously that didn’t happen.

I’m a rollercoaster

You’re a dead end street

You loved going out with friends on a Friday night. It was the best. You kinda hit pause on doing that while you were with your ex but since he’s out of the picture Friday night is back to being yours. 

Last Friday, you were really reminded why you love going out so much. The partying, the dancing, the guys. Last week's guy was especially special. And honestly you’ve thought a lot about him since. Which usually doesn’t happen. You leave in the morning and then don’t really dwell on what you did the last night with the mystery guy of the week. But last week's guy wasn’t just anyone. It was Nico Hischier. Captain of the New Jersey Devils.

But whatever. You’re thinking of all this while getting ready to go out this Friday. It doesn’t matter though because tonight it’s just gonna be another guy. You know this isn’t the most healthy way to get over a guy. Partying, drinking and hooking up with a stranger every week but it’s fun. And it helps you forget the shit that your ex put you through.

You and your 3 friends walk into the bar, later that night and head straight to get drinks. While you wait for them you sit at the bar and scope out the room. Your eyes roam over the dance floor and the booths where people are sitting. 

Your friend taps your shoulder. You look at her and your eyes follow in the direction her head is nodding. A little gasp falls from your lips when your eyes meet their mark. 

“Hey Y/n, isn’t that the guy you hooked up with last week?” Your friend yells over the music.

You blink once, twice not believing your eyes, but yeah sure enough standing there in the flesh is Nico Hischier. And you aren’t even at the same place as last week.

“Um, yeah. It is.”

“You should totally go say hi. Maybe you can have a repeat of last week.” You shouldn’t listen to your friends. The worst possible choice to make is to go over there. You already thought about Nico too much this week. If you spend another night with him you could end up with these complicated feelings that you didn’t want to deal with. He was a dead end street. He would lead to nothing, nothing at all. He didn’t commit to relationships he told you so much last week. Why would he change that for you? 

But nonetheless you got up and walked right over to him.

But won’t you stay for a while?

I wish that you’d never leave

You tap him on the shoulder and he turns and looks at you. No recognition sparks in his eyes. That makes you nervous. But at the same time why should he remember you? You fucked last Friday and that was it. He’s probably taken many other girls to his bed in just the last week since you had seen him. They were on the road for a five day stretch.

“Um hey?” Nico says, more as a question than a statement.”Should I know you? Sorry I’m just really bad with names and faces. Do you want me to sign something for you?”

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. He was a one night stand, that’s it. Maybe you just need to get him out of your system. Spend one more night together.

“No, I'm not. We spent last Friday night together, remember?”

He thinks for a moment. “Actually, I do remember. Here let me get you a drink, we’ll see where the night goes.” Nico winks at you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bar.

The night spirals from there. You end up back at your place and the rest is history. When you wake up the next morning to a heavy arm draped across your stomach you automatically think how you want to wake up like this, with Nico everyday. And that’s when you know you’re fucked. Absolutely, no going back fucked. And that scares the shit out of you.

Realizing you want an anti-relationship, only does one night stands kinda guy is terrifying. You want him to stay. To not get up and leave before you even have breakfast. To not leave ever.

But then ten minutes later Nico wakes up. He’s hastily picking up his clothes off your floor and throwing them on. As he’s about to walk out the door he turns and looks at you. Really studies your face.

Then he says, “Could I maybe grab your number? Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

And after hearing that your heart soars.

I know I know better

You're no guarantee

That joy is short-lived. And you knew better than to get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee Nico was ever actually gonna use your number, but you really couldn’t help it. 

You didn’t hear from Nico for the next week. You chalked it up to him being on a road trip. A road trip that went horribly. They played five games and lost five games.

Late on the following Monday night you got a text from Nico saying, hey just got back from the road trip, can I come over? I need to let off some steam.

And even though you know better and you know that this is a bad idea, you say yes.

And for the next few weeks, you and Nico fall into some kind of routine. He texts you, asking to come over and you say yes. You fuck and sometimes he stays to eat or watch a movie and sometimes he goes straight home. And those times hurt. When he comes over and then leaves directly once you’re done having sex. It feels like he’s just using you but still everytime he asks you say yes.

But if you asked me to run away

I’d go easily

It’s always him who asks to see you and it’s always on his time. You know it’s not right but what can you do? It feels like you need to see him almost as much as you need to breathe air. At this point you feel like you would do anything he asks. He could ask you to drop everything and run away and you’d go easily.

I almost lost it

I’ll heal eventually

On and off, never knowing what to expect, hooking up with Nico begins to take a toll on you. He would call you, come over almost daily for a week and build you up. Then he’d be MIA for the next 2 weeks and you’d completely fall apart. 

It was a constant emotional roller coaster and it was getting to a point where you couldn’t do it anymore. But at the same time you needed it. He’d build you up so high and then just let you fall right off the cliff he put you on and then he’d bring you right back up. It was such a toxic cycle but one you just couldn’t break. Because when he made you feel good and happy you were so happy but when he made you sad it felt like your whole heart was shattering. You’re teetering dangerously close to the edge. So close that you could lose it at any moment. You’re hurting really badly.

That being said, you know that even though you’re struggling right now, you’re gonna be okay. You firmly believe that you’ll get better, whether or not it’s with Nico. 

But faster if you’re next to me

Next to me

You really hope it is. You really, really hope it’s Nico next to you. You’ll heal faster. If only he could just love you unconditionally. You would love him back as much as you possibly could. You already do. You give and give and give so much to him and he takes and takes and takes from you. 

I'm codependent

But trying hard not to be

I'm better when you're next to me

You know you get attached really easily. When you find someone you genuinely love, you grab on and don’t let go. And with Nico you really did try hard not to get too attached. Too bad it didn’t work. 

Nico makes you your best self. You’re better when he’s there. You feel the happiest and most confident when you’re around him. You always want him to be around.

I’m a shameless caller

You’re a full machine

But won’t you answer tonight

And say something nice to me

And then Nico doesn’t call for 2 weeks. You can’t even blame it on a road trip since they were on a homestand that whole time. You don’t know what to do. You’ve never been the first one to call and that makes you anxious, but then again this whole situation is making you anxious. You think on it for a moment then you pick up the phone.

It rings and rings and rings. No answer. The beep sounds to leave a message and you start speaking.

“Um hey Nico, it’s Y/n. I just wanted to say hi. We haven’t seen each other in a little while and I was just wondering how you’re doing? Yeah, uh I guess that’s it. Call me back if you have the chance.”

And from there it doesn’t stop. Weeks still go by and you can’t stop calling. Over and over again. Call after call, but one thing stays the same. Nico never answers and he never calls you back after any of your messages.

Every time you call you hope for a different outcome. For him to answer, for him to say something sweet to you like he used to. You need the validation that he used to give you. All you want is for him to pick up and just say something nice to you.

And you don’t have to mean it

You can lie to me

But if you asked me to run away

I’d go easily

It’s been a month of not hearing from Nico. And it’s been hard. You miss him and your heart aches. You want him to come back to you. Why can’t he just answer the phone? Even if he wants to cut it off, why can’t he just tell you straight up? Why can’t he give you the closure you deserve?

He’s putting you through a world of hurt right now. You feel so low and you’re constantly tired. The way he treats you is so toxic but still you can’t help but love him. He could ask anything of you and you would probably do it.

Even after all this time and all this time and hurt you’d still run away with him in a heartbeat.

But do you think we could talk?

‘Cause I’ve been trying to tell you

How you’re the one that I turn to

This past few months Nico’s put you through too much shit. And now you’re kinda over it. Even if Nico never had the same feelings as you, you deserve to know why one day he suddenly just stopped calling. And if you’re never gonna see him again you want to tell him your real feelings for him. Though he’s probably been able to guess from your nonstop calling.

You sit in your parked car outside Nico’s house for a good half an hour before getting out. You’re nervous. This might be the last time you get to see Nico. And though you wish you were over him you aren’t. And you probably won’t be for a while. You might as well get it over with. You get out of your car and make your way up to Nico’s apartment. 

You pause outside his door. Are you really doing this? Is no closure maybe better? No it’s not, you reassure yourself. You have to do this so you can start healing and letting go.

You knock once, and then wait. Suddenly the door opens in your face. You're greeted by Nico. He looks at you with an expression of sadness laced with what might be longing on his face. But that doesn’t make sense. He hates you. Doesn’t he?

“Nico, you’ve been avoiding my calls but we need to talk now. You can’t just leave me in the dark. If you wanted to break things off you could’ve told me, called me, sent a fucking text. It’s not that hard. I fell for you and I love you and it felt like you abandoned me. I understand that you don’t reciprocate my feelings but the way you left wasn’t okay. I just-,”

Nico cuts you off, “Y/n, that’s the exact problem. The problem is that I do reciprocate your feelings. I fucking love you and I’m so scared. I hate relationships. I’ve been hurt one too many times. I didn’t know what to do.” Nico runs a hand over his face and lets out a long sigh.

“I’ve never met anyone like you and when I started feeling more than attraction towards you, I ran. I thought if I distanced myself I could forget about you but I could never. You are the most memorable person to ever enter my life, y/n. You’re so bright and colorful and everyone loves you. I know the way I acted was wrong and how I chose to pursue this was bad but I’m ready to try. You know why? Because I’m never gonna find someone else like you. Every night I stayed up waiting to hear my phone ring with your caller id. I was so scared that at night you were gonna just forget about me and stop calling. And if you think for one second that it was easy to not pick up every single one of your calls you’d be so wrong. I love you, y/n. And I know I have a lot to work on and I know the way I treated you wasn’t okay but please, can we work on it together? I want you to be by my side. I want to try with you. For you.”

Tears prick your eyes and threaten to spill. No one has ever said anything like that to you before. 

You look Nico in the eye, “Okay.”

“Okay what? Y/n, please say yes. I need you.”

“Okay, I’ll try with you. I’m not perfect either but we can work on our shit together. And yeah, you fucked me over but now I know you were hurting too. This whole time, all of those calls, I’ve been trying to tell you how you’re the one that I turn to.”

thanks for reading🫶

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