#OF COURSE I gave him glowing freckles

[romione-trope-fest]

Red Rings

Fic Title: Red Rings

Author Name: @honouraryweasley12

Selected Trope: Soulmates

Brief Summary: While recovering at Shell Cottage, Hermione discovers something that will change her relationship with Ron forever.

Word Count: 4831

Rating: T

Any Trigger Warnings: Mentions of torture

~~~

Her eyes opened slowly, as had been the case for the past week as they rested and recovered from their ordeal at Malfoy Manor. She could hear the seagulls in the distance, the faint sea-salted air wafting in through the barely cracked window. Hermione blinked a few times, waking up from her slumber and feeling strangely refreshed.

It was the first time she’d woken up without a pounding headache, which seemed to indicate progress. She was starting to feel like herself, after the torture she’d been subjected to. Her visible wounds had healed, the cuts from the blade and the glass from the chandelier criss-crossing her neck and skin with small scars. The tremors of pain and the muscle aches remained but had lessened in intensity.

Another sound got her attention, a soft wheezing of low snores. Noting that Luna’s bed was empty—her temporary roommate starting each day early so that she could ‘bask in the glow of the rising sun’—Hermione peered over the edge of the small bed and couldn’t help but smile. Ron was curled up on the floor in a tangle of blankets, his ginger hair sticking up haphazardly as he clutched his pillow.

After a long day of planning left her feeling weak, he’d insisted on staying the night, in case she needed anything. He’d been so sweet to her since he’d saved her from a certain grisly death at the hands of Greyback. His gentle care for her, and his patience during her recovery served to push away any lingering hurt around his abandonment.

As if on its own volition, her arm reached down and she gently brushed her fingers across his pale, freckled cheek. The same spot where Bellatrix had struck him, but that mark had mostly faded away, thankfully. The same spot where she’d once kissed him before a Quidditch match.

His nose twitched, and she had to stifle a giggle. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a small line of red around her wrist. She frowned, as she hadn’t noticed it before. It looked like someone had circled her skin with a red pen.

Perhaps the ropes the Snatchers used had burned her skin, the injury just blending in with all her other scrapes and bruises from that horrid night. She shrugged it off as she watched his almost blonde eyelashes blink for a second, before she was met with the brilliant blue of his eyes.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Ron yawned and smiled at her. “You seem like you’re feeling better.” His hand reached up and caught hers, holding it against his cheek.

“I am, no headache this morning.”

His eyebrows raised. “Seriously, that’s great news. That means you’re getting better.”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you for staying last night.”

His thumb brushed the back of her hand, sending shivers through her whole body. “Of course, anything for you.”

The tips of his ears blazed red, but he didn’t look away. She knew he meant it. She could get lost in those eyes.

Ron broke them out of the spell. “Shall we go down for breakfast?”

“Yes, I’m famished.”

“Your appetite is returning, that’s another good sign.”

It was comforting and natural, so Hermione continued to hold his hand all the way down to breakfast. She snuck a quick look down and noticed that he had the same red mark around his wrist. Odd, but it did support her theory that it was the bonds they’d struggled against when they were captured.

They sat down at the crowded table and greeted the rest of the houseguests. Hermione tried to help Fleur, but the French woman instructed her to relax. She took a seat next to Ron, facing Harry.

“How are you feeling, Hermione?”

“Much better, thanks Harry.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes, I slept well.”

Harry turned to Ron. “What about you, did you sleep?”

Ron looked away and nodded slightly. Harry gave him a pointed look, and Ron returned it, his eyes wide. Harry looked at her again and then back to Ron, before shaking his head. She wasn’t sure what that exchange was about, but she was going to find out. It felt like they were hiding something from her.

It was a quiet breakfast between Bill, Fleur, Dean, Harry, Ron, and herself. Luna had eaten early and was down at the beach, while Griphook and Mr. Ollivander preferred to stay in their rooms. Hermione tried a few times to spy on Dean’s and Harry’s wrists; there was something strange about that scratch mark that was bothering her.

Ron leaned over halfway through the meal, his voice tickling her ear. “Everything alright?”

Hermione nodded, feeling silly. “Yes, just checking something.”

As Harry held up a bowl for Fleur to fill up with extra croissants, Hermione had a perfect vantage point, and Harry had no such mark. He must have used dittany to get rid of it already. As they finished and began clearing the table, Dean yawned and stretched. His wrists were also clear of any blemishes.

Harry pulled them both aside after they’d all pitched in to clean up the kitchen. He whispered to them in a low voice, his eyes darting about for anyone listening. “Let’s take a break from planning today. We made a lot of progress yesterday, and I know you were quite tired after, Hermione.”

Her face twisted into a look of indignation. “Harry, I’m fine. You don’t need to treat me like a child.”

His tone was hard, not taking her plea into account. “You need to recover for us to have any chance of pulling this off. It’s just one day.” He sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. “Rest up today, the both of you.”

Hermione started to argue but stopped when she saw the look on Ron’s face, his features looking far more exhausted than they had earlier. “Please, Hermione?”

She hadn’t even noticed they were holding hands again as he gave her a quick squeeze.

“Fine, we can clear our heads today and come back fresh tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, his eyes downcast, and made his way out of the small cottage for his daily visit to Dobby’s grave, leaving the two of them alone.

After a moment, Ron yawned again. “I think I might just take a quick kip on the sofa.”

Hermione nodded. “Before you go, come with me. I noticed that we both still have scratches that need mending.”

She led them back to the kitchen, which was now empty. She asked him to get the dittany while she got a towel and put it down on the table, before placing her wrist on it. As Ron sat down, she grabbed his hand and did the same.

“See?”

He examined the mark and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s kind of weird they’re the same. I noticed mine a few days ago, but I figured it would heal.”

She poured a couple of drops of dittany on his wrist, and nothing happened. “Odd, that should fix it.”

She tried the same on her own wrist, and just like his, nothing happened. “I don’t know why it isn’t working. I might need to research healing charms a bit further.”

“I’m sure it’s fine Hermione. Maybe the dittany has lost its potency or something. I think we should use this day off to get some rest, like Harry wanted.”

Ron cleaned up as she sat there, trying to puzzle out what these red lines around their wrists meant. It was strange, because under closer inspection, it didn’t look like a cut or a scratch. It was almost embedded in her skin, like a Muggle tattoo.

“You want to head up and rest for a bit?” Ron held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to help her up and walk her up the stairs. Though she’d argued with Harry, if she was honest, another day of just rest couldn’t hurt. Perhaps she’d take a quick bath later, but for now, she wanted to try and figure out the mystery of this red band.

Ron helped her into bed and tucked her in, gently kissing her forehead before he turned toward the door. She could see his ears aflame, and she smiled. “Get some rest, alright?”

“I will. You too, you look tired, and I’m sure the floor wasn’t comfortable.”

Ron shrugged. “Cushioning charm. If you need anything… anything at all, just call out, ok? I’ll leave the door open a bit so I can hear you.”

“Thanks, Ron.”

She watched as his lanky figure retreated down the hall and the stairs, before reaching under the bed to retrieve her beaded bag. She had somehow held onto it through her ordeal. She spent a few minutes digging inside to find some of the books was looking for. If this mark she and Ron shared was magical, as she was beginning to suspect, then surely she’d find an answer in her books. They’d never let her down before.

After two hours of research, she’d found nothing describing what she was seeing. What she wouldn’t give for access to the Hogwarts library right now! Her head was swimming with information, so she put the books away and lay back down, trying to work through everything that had happened over the past week.

She must have nodded off, because she woke up with a start an hour later, an idea in her head. Her door was open wider than she remembered, and she instinctively knew that Ron must have come up to check on her. It made her feel so cared for.

She pulled herself out of bed and quietly padded over to the stairs, unsure of where anyone else was. She went downstairs, only to find Ron asleep on the settee, though he seemed restless with a frown on his face. She hoped he would fall into a deeper sleep and get the rest he needed. No one else was around, having vacated the cramped cottage to take in the warm afternoon.

The idea that had struck her was simple. She realized that she was sharing the house with a wizard who had a vast amount of knowledge around magical lore. Luna had even mentioned everything she’d learned from Mr. Ollivander while they were held captive. Perhaps the old wandmaker might have seen something similar in his time, either in a book, or through the sheer volume of people he’d met in his lifetime.

She snuck up quietly, so as not to disturb Ron. She approached the door where Ollivander was staying and knocked quietly, hoping that he too wasn’t sleeping. He’d faced many months of brutal captivity and needed the recovery time more than she did.

“Come in,” a frail voice called out.

Hermione gently opened the door and poked her head in. “I was hoping I might trouble you for a moment.”

He squinted at her. “Of course, Miss Granger.”

She slipped in and closed the door silently behind her.

“Would you mind opening the curtains? I’ve missed the sun.”

She pulled open the pastel blue curtains, flooding the room with afternoon light.

“Ah, much better.”

She surveyed the older wizard. He certainly looked better than he had a couple of days prior, when he’d come down for a quick dinner. Some colour had returned to his face and his silvery eyes seemed sharper in the sunlight.

He beckoned Hermione to approach, so she pulled a worn wooden chair over and sat down next to his bed.

“What can I help you with?”

“I’ve noticed something strange, on both me and Ron, and I wanted to ask you if you’ve ever seen anything like it. I’m certain it’s something magical, but the books I have access to don’t seem to mention it.”

He sat up, intrigued. One of the traits that made him such a legendary wandmaker was his curious nature. He’d often had to research deep and ancient magical lore to improve the wands he was creating.

“You see, we both have this thin red mark around our wrists, but they don’t seem to be an injury, as dittany did nothing to them.”

She thrust out her arm to show him.

The older wizard examined the mark carefully, turning over her wrist to see the path all the way around. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Hmm… that’s interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed. You said that both yourself and Mr. Weasley have this mark?”

“Yes, just the two of us, no one else that I could see. I thought it might have been from the ropes that bound us, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. The mark also seems to be under the skin. We certainly didn’t have them until after we were captured.”

Ollivander nodded for a moment as he continued staring at her marked skin. “I believe I know what this is, but you may find the idea unbelievable.”

Hermione let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “What is it?”

“This is very old magic. Ancient, in fact.”

Hermione gasped and jerked her hand away. Everything she’d read about old magic was steeped in horrible, antiquated beliefs and traditions.

Ollivander let out a dry chuckle, perhaps his first laugh in ages. “Not to worry, my dear. Many misunderstand this type of magic. This, I believe, can be a good thing. Much like the magic Harry’s mother performed in sacrificing herself to save him when he was a baby.”

“But how?”

“Magic is extremely powerful, as you know. What can make it even more powerful is connection. Connection between us, as witches and wizards. Connection with the world around us. Connection to our wands, which help us to hone and amplify our magic. But in this case, I believe that connection leads to our very core—connection to our souls.”

Hermione nodded, not completely understanding. She allowed Ollivander to continue, as she formulated a thousand questions in her head.

“Do you believe in fate, Miss Granger?”

She frowned, not liking where this conversation was going.

“Judging by the look on your face, I believe you were going to say no. That is fine, you can have your beliefs. One of mine is that there are powerful forces at work, for good or for ill. I believe that through these forces, some people meet and create an important connection. Given what you’ve shown me, I believe that is true of yourself and Mr. Weasley.”

Hermione gasped. “Are you saying that Ron and I are… soulmates?”

“Not quite, it is far more complex than that. Soulmates imply a pre-destiny. What I believe is that you two share a deeper connection, one that’s been built over time. A connection you both chose to forge. From what I’ve seen, this mark is a rare thing. A physical manifestation of a soul bond.”

He paused for a moment, watching the disbelief on her face. He seemed to be thinking of a different way to approach this.

“Have you asked yourself why the Cruciatus Curse that you endured did not affect your mental state? Most people who endured what you did would have been driven to madness, especially by such a powerful and uniquely hateful witch as Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“I-I just thought I got lucky. That I did everything in that moment to keep focus and not lose myself to the pain.”

He looked at her shrewdly. “Did Mr. Weasley do anything to protect you, given this connection between the two of you?”

“He… he tried. He tried to take my place. He volunteered himself to take that torture for me, but Bellatrix didn’t allow it. She said he was next if I died under questioning.”

“Ah, so though he failed, he was still willing to sacrifice himself for you? In much the same way we’ve seen protective magic work before?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“You see, this is where I believe the soul bond came into existence. For it to happen, there would have to be a strong underlying foundation of connection already. Perhaps you love Mr. Weasley, or he loves you. I think you love each other for it to manifest in this way.”

“I’ve not heard of any of this happening before.”

“This is ancient magic. Even though he couldn’t protect you physically, I believe your souls bonded in that moment and he was able to protect your soul, your very being, through his love for you. The torture being inflicted on you was not on one, but rather split across two souls, and that protected you from experiencing the full power of the curse.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that he would have felt the same things I was when I was being tortured?”

“Very astute. Miss Lovegood told me you were extremely bright. He likely would have felt it in a different way—as you felt it in your body, he felt it in his soul to save you from having to. The despair he would have felt and his own screams, as I recall, reflected that. Like he was losing an important part of himself, which he was.”

Hermione nodded slowly, not even aware that her cheeks were wet with tears from Ron’s sacrifice.

“The soul bond itself can exist due to a deep connection, that is known, but it’s rarely tested in this way. What you went through, this attack on your very souls in such an extreme, violent way, is why I think the mark has shown itself. Your connection was stretched to its very limit, to its very breaking point had you not survived, and yet you overcame it. It’s miraculous, really.”

Hermione looked back down at her wrist, and was filled with warmth, and of love for Ron.

After a moment, Ollivander spoke again. “Are you going to tell him what we’ve talked about?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I owe it to him to tell him, and I want him to know I feel the same way about him.”

“Then I wish you luck.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. This means so much to me.”

“It is nothing, my dear. You and your friends have rescued me from a much darker fate, and for that I will be forever grateful.”

Hermione said her goodbyes as the wandmaker settled down to sleep before she shut the door and made her way back to her room. The conversation took a lot out of her, and she required her own rest, her hand around her wrist and thoughts of Ron playing in her head as she drifted off.

Her eyes opened to the late afternoon sun, and her Ron leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his face.

“How long have you been up here?”

“Just a few minutes. I could hear your snores from downstairs,” he teased.

“Oh, shush!” She blushed, and he chuckled.

He pointed to the weird lumps under her blanket. “What are those?”

“Oh, just books. I was doing a bit of light research before sleeping.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Did you actually rest?”

“I did, I promise. Did you get some sleep?”

He nodded slightly but didn’t meet her eyes. “A bit.”

She sat up in bed, all the while staring at the bags under his eyes. “Do you want to take a walk with me, Ron? I could use some fresh air.”

He strode toward the bed and held out a hand to gently help her up. “Let’s go, I think everyone else is outside anyway.”

“Can we walk down to the beach? There’s something I need to discuss with you in private.”

“Did you find something out about these marks on our wrists?”

“I did, but we can talk about it later.”

With their hands connected, they made their way out of the small seaside cottage. They waved to their friends, before walking down the worn path to the sand below. The tides gently rippled against the shoreline, the air warming their skin. The weather was surprisingly lovely for March.

They walked slowly for a few minutes, their hands swinging freely between them. The breeze was making a mess of her overgrown curls, making her feel carefree for the first time in months.

Hermione could feel Ron’s eyes on her, most likely making sure she wasn’t overexerting herself. She met his glance and smiled, which he returned, seemingly relaxing.

They came across a large piece of driftwood that had likely been placed there as a place to sit. Hermione tugged Ron toward it, and they took a seat, staring out at the mesmerizing body of water.

Ron pushed his hair back from his forehead, before placing an arm behind her back, bracing her. “What did you want to discuss? Is it about these marks?”

“Yes and no.” Hermione glanced at him. “What was that exchange with Harry about this morning?”

“What exchange?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Ron. You know what I’m talking about.”

Ron shook his head in mock anger. “Bloody know-it-all.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She placed a hand on the denim of his thigh and gave it a quick squeeze. “Now, please tell me.”

He huffed but started speaking after a few seconds. “I haven’t been sleeping much. Every time I close my eyes, I hear your screams in my head—it’s like I’m right there in the cellar again, re-living the torture. The first couple of nights I woke up screaming, but we shielded your room from it so you could rest and recover.”

She looked closely at him through the tears forming in her eyes as he continued. “All I can picture is you, alone on the floor of that room, Bellatrix standing over you as you scream and writhe in pain. It’s like I can feel it in my gut. It takes me hours to fall into a restless sleep, and then I’m exhausted when I wake up.”

Her hand reached up and cupped his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. “Oh, Ron. Is that why Harry was asking you about sleep this morning?”

“Yeah, he knows what I’ve been going through, but I swore him to secrecy. I didn’t want to tell you and worry you; I just wanted you to focus on getting better. Should have been me who got tortured, Merlin knows I deserved it.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” She wiped her sleeve across the wetness running down her face. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand it if she’d have done that to you.”

“I couldn’t stand it either, I was out of my mind trying to get to you. I just can’t seem to get past it. That, and the guilt from abandoning you… and Harry. I’m just so… fucked up. The only thing making it better is being able to take care of you and seeing you recover. Of seeing you alive.”

She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her as she lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They both craved the closeness.

She heard him sniffle a few times, and could feel his breathing slow down before she pulled away and met his eyes. “I think I might know what’s happening.”

He smirked slightly. “Course you do. Found it in one of your books, did you?”

“No, not this time. I had a chat with Mr. Ollivander.”

Ron’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? When?”

“While you were sleeping. But I-I’m a bit afraid of telling you what I learned, because of what it might mean.”

Ron’s voice was low. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know, Ron. I trust you.”

Hermione pulled his arm into her lap and slowly traced the red circle around his wrist. “Mr. Ollivander had an interesting theory on what this is, and it relates to why you might be having trouble sleeping.”

He nodded, his breathing quickening from her tender touch, his eyes following the path of her fingertips.

“He told me about the deep connections that we can form through the power of magic, and he believes we have formed such a connection… between our very souls.”

Ron’s eyes widened as he stared at her. His voice croaked as he asked the question she hoped. “How?”

“It’s like when Harry’s mum sacrificed herself for him. First, there had to be a strong foundation already between us, one we’ve built deep within ourselves. In Harry’s case, it was the love of a mother for her son. In our case…”

She trailed off, her cheeks hot at the implication. Ron just nodded, his face pale despite the sunshine. “Go on.”

“He believes that when you volunteered to take my place at Malfoy Manor, to sacrifice yourself for me, that something like that happened again.” Hermione could feel tears forming again and spilling down her face, and her voice hitched, knowing there was no going back. “Except this time, since you physically couldn’t protect me, your… your soul bonded with mine and you still protected me, my very being. Because… because you love me.”

Hermione let out a sob and threw herself into his chest. His arms immediately encircled her as she cried against him, overwhelmed. He held onto her tightly, but she felt his whole body shaking, his own tears dripping and landing in her hair.

“Oh, Ron. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried, suddenly flooded with guilt at her previous actions toward him, this man that loved her with his very soul.

He sniffled loudly, before he whispered. “You don’t feel the same.”

“NO!” Her shout startled him as she pulled back and looked up at his red-rimmed eyes, her arms still at his sides as she shook her head vehemently. “I do feel the same, Ron, I do. I love you, too. The connection is so strong because we love each other.”

She hugged him tightly again, and it was like they were one. “I’m sorry because I treated you so terribly when you returned. I was just so heartbroken.”

“I deserved it, Hermione,” he whispered in her ear. “I never should have left; it was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

“I forgive you, a thousand times over. I owe you my life, Ron.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, love.”

Her breath caught at the word. She looked up at him, and though she knew she looked terrible, he was gazing at her like she was the most precious, most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He tucked a curl behind her ear and cupped her chin in his hand.

“Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now, Hermione? I’m afraid that if I start, I’ll never be able to stop, and we have bigger things to worry about right now.”

She nodded tearfully. “You’re right. We have to save the bloody world first.”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You swore! My soul’s already a bad influence on you.”

She grinned, her eyes roaming his face openly, taking in the wonderous sight of the man she loved. “The worst.” She moved out of the temptation of his embrace and sat next to him, dropping her head onto his shoulder.

He picked up her hand and kissed it, before examining her wrist.

“So, this mark is because of the soul bond?”

“It’s usually something you only feel. Ollivander thinks ours manifested physically because our bond was tested in such an intense way, and we still survived it. It’s why I wasn’t harmed mentally by the torture, and why you’re experiencing nightmares and pain. You need to heal from the torture you took on to protect me, just as much as I do.”

“Yeah, I think I do. I slept a bit better last night—even though I was on the floor, being close to you was comforting.”

“Good, you need to get your rest. You’ve been taking such care of me, but you need to focus on yourself, too.”

“I will, especially now that I know what’s happening. I’ll think good thoughts, like when you told me you loved me.”

He turned and swiftly kissed her on the forehead, which is all he dared to do for the moment. Standing up, he dusted the sand off his trousers and helped her up again.

“What do we tell Harry?”

“I don’t think we should tell him anything, Ron. He has enough soul-related matters to worry about. He needs to know we’re with him.”

“You’re right, as always. Since there won’t be any other opportunities, I want to say it properly. I love you, Hermione Granger.”

She beamed at him and wiped away another stray tear. “I love you, Ron Weasley.”

He knocked his shoulder into hers playfully. “If you ever get the urge to jump me and snog me senseless, feel free. You have my permission.”

She giggled and squeezed his hand as they walked back toward Shell Cottage. “One day, love.”

#submission

[floshav]

want you so bad.

Peter Parker x fem! reader

summary: Peter likes Mj. You like Peter. Everyday is hell when they're both in each others vicinity and you're sitting right behind the madness. You're so close to professing your love for him but you keep it under wraps because it seems like an impossible feat.

Warnings: intense yearning, slight steamy scene, kissing, alluding to smut

He brings his hat down, pushing his fluffy bits of hair to flair out at the ends of his hat. You quirk your head to the side wondering who he was trying to hide from or who he saw. Yet it was no surprise to find that it was Mj.

She walked in with her curly, unruly hair which made her look so, so beautiful. The freckles which danced on her face making her glow and it made you jealous. Why did her natural beauty shine through more than your own? Why couldnt Peter see that in you. Why couldn't you see anything in yourself.

His eyes darted around the park outside your school and finally landed on you. You looked at him with a knowing expression.

"Don't need to play it cool Parker. The whole school can smell your crush from here." You smirk.

He scratches the back of his head and pretends like he doesn't know you till' he gives you a defeated look.

"Whatever you say y/n...." It only takes a few more moments before he breaks

He musters out a breathy whisper which you've heard a billion times before. "Is that really MJ?" Peter gravelly asked, hands at either side of his head, giving in to the fact that he was definitely head over heels for her.

You try to hold in a sigh, " Yes, Peter. It is MJ. For the hundredth time this week!" You yearn out, half joke half seriously.

Peters shoulder's tense up as a dorky smile carves his lips. "Is she looking our way? Or is her nerdy ass stuffed in a book." Peter asks with wide eyes. The eyes which you found so adorable, palpable yet so far from the personal touch of your own fingertips.

You slowly turned your head around to glimpse at the curly haired girl who was indeed lost in a book.

"Yea, shes reading her book." You say as you shoot Peter a tight smile and hate Mj for being the stereotypical mysterious girl. You Wondered if he could sense the hurt beneath you. Of course not. He was just a boy after all.

"I wonder how her long eyelashes feel against her eye bags as she slurs through the words. Or how the spine of the book feels as her soft fingers inch it to crack. Ugh, I just want to count every freckle on her beautiful face. Ya think she's ever thought of me before?" Peter began to ramble sweet nothings to himself as if you were giving him your utmost attention and not thinking about how stars practically lived in his eyes as he talked about her. How you wish he was talking about you.

You felt that familiar soul crushing, heart sinking feeling that you knew too well. The feeling that every boy you've ever liked has given you. The feeling of being so close yet so far away was the final blow.

He placed both his hands on either side of his face again and began to softly bite his lip as he giggled to himself stupidly.

"What're you thinking about Parker." You ask playfully trying to lighten the mood for yourself.

"Her lips... her eyes.... her hair." He smiled to himself so oblivious to the fact that every compliment he gave her was a dagger to your heart.

------------------

2 months

2 months pass and Peter has started talking to Michelle. Instead of walking past him, she smiles, she waves occasionally and has even said small hi's to him. The progress aches your yearning heart further into abyss but you ignore it anyway. Michelle has a new glow to her, she radiates beauty and the colour yellow ever since they started conversing. While you stay stagnant, radiating a plain old indistinguishable grey.

You're in Peters room, you two have just finished a major lego piece you've been putting off and the nights going great.

buzz

There goes your night you think to yourself.

Peter picks up his phone only to reveal his dorky smile again. Hes immediately stuck like glue and you hate it. You hate her. Even though you shouldnt, you couldnt care less.

You lay beside him as he smiles at his phone when in fact he should be smiling at you.

You snatch his phone and crush it, crush it to bits imagining it was Michelle jones, every bit of it Gone. gone to dust.

you snap out of your fantasy and return to see him stuck in her spiders web.

"Hey Peter" you coon

"Whats up?" He sets his phone aside and turns to face you.

Unknowingly you inch closer, and closer but the gap is barely noticeable.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips and you take in a breath. He notices the subtle gesture and his mind wanders.

"Have you ever wondered.." You trail off

"Wondered.....?" He repeated

"Wondered what it'd be like to.."

"to... kiss someone." You shyly whisper knowing you both haven't had your first kisses.

"I think it'd be amazing. Especially with someone you like. Imagine the feeling, the sparks flying. Just everything put into place." He says as he searches your eyes for a deeper meaning behind your facade.

"Yea... Someone you like." Your heart pounds solemnly at the thought that you'd never share your first kiss with your first love because he was tangled up in a love story of his own.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Just... felt like it."

----------------------------

a month passes since that conversation and you see Peters lips locked onto Mj's as they share soft kisses beside the vending machine. You should feel happy for him but he's all you've ever wanted and you've just lost him. You want to scream, shout, cry but you don't have it in you anymore. You just don't care.

Peter pulls away and Mj has a wide smile plastered on her face. Something you rarely ever see from her. Your mind wanders to what Peters lips would feel like. Soft.. Plush and warm. The wetness of lips on lips makes you aroused. The sounds he'd make if you did something a little more. He was seemed like the type you thought to yourself. The way his face would be so flushed after you'd litter him with affection and kisses. Him gaining more confidence as you went on. Mj watching on the side. You hadn't even realised a dampening form on your panties until you shifted around. You wanted him so so bad, but all you could do was watch from the side.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peterparker #spiderman x reader #fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #angst #peter parker smut #smut #peter parker #peterparkerfanfic #peter parker fanfic

[hwanchaesong]

Altschmerz Teaser

a/n: imma give you a sneak peek for now to give y'all some idea about my works (i'm terribly sorry bc like i said, i type so slow idek why and my brain lags every 5 mins) this is an apology i can manage for the mean time 😭😭 pls do not hesitate to tell me, whatever means, if you wanted to be added to the taglist, tysm! 🥀✨

genre: angst, fluff, smut, university au, part of the ATEEZ Minisode Series

It is a good day to live and breathe like any normal person.

The weather is actually nice, a little cloudy with a nice touch of spring air, the skies are bluer than Taylor Swift's eyes and said singer's song titled 'The Man' is blasting through your earphones. You feel vigorous, your pristine white uniform for your medical course gives you a certain glow. Your classes went well, acing all of the assessments without much studying done, oh, truly a lucky day for you.

Then all hell breaks loose when your lovely friend, Felix, spills the tea during lunch at the cafeteria, his thick aussie accent that you usually love screeched like a racing car's tire in your ears.

"I heard that Kim Hongjoong of the music department has a crush on you."

"What the fuck?"

He held his hands up, explaining that he heard it while passing by their building. The way people narrated the 'girl' sounds exactly like you, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the information as Felix lists out the descriptions that caught his ears.

'She's from the Allied of Health and Sciences department.'

'She's really intelligent and kind, well, that's what the professors had said.'

'A fluent speaker! Shy at times but really bubbly with her friends.'

"I did say that I want some spice in my boring college life but not like this!" you exclaimed, stabbing a kimchi with your fork and aggressively eating it, the spice further heating your head up.

"Not like what?" just then, your other friend Lily, sat down beside you with her own tray of food.

"Felix here is spreading some fake news, he said that someone named Kim Hongjoong has a crush on me." you explained, side eyeing the freckled man before continuing to eat the remainder of your lunch.

"Oh yeah, he does. Some people are already shipping you together."

Then you choked at Lily's nonchalant reply, making her grimace and pat your back as an attempt to soothe your burning pharynx.

You did not expect her to agree at all, and you made sure to tell her that with the way you glared at her.

"He's not that bad, yes he is a music major like Hee-" you stare at her hard, not wanting to hear that specific name. Lily clears her throat and rephrases her sentence, "It is true that he is a music major, but you don't have to lump them all in one category. He's nice, my cousin knows him."

Felix nods, gulping his food before speaking, "Plus, it's just a crush. It's not like he's gonna court you all of a sudden."

They have a point, you don't have to make a big deal out of it. Besides, it's a rumor, most of the time it's plain bullshit.

You need to calm down. You're having a great day, a great start of the semester and you'll be damned if it'll be ruined this early.

Then the students at the library squealed like dying squirrels when they saw you enter. The other music majors at the university gates gave you a wink, hell, even one of the freshmen congratulated you and even said, 'You and Hongjoong-hyung will look good together!'

You mustered a smile throughout the ordeals, opting to finish the day peacefully like how you started it. Whatever happened today shall pass.

Well.. it should be but then you find yourself stalking the man's social media. You have already found his facebook, twitter, instagram, even his fucking youtube account (he has uploaded some guitar covers and you have to admit he's great at playing the instrument.)

You could defend yourself and blame curiosity later, but now, you'll indulge in some information that you could find on the internet. Surely you haven't seen him before, his face is unfamiliar, heck, you don't even know his name, not until your friends brought it up today.

Kim Hongjoong. A music major born on November 7, plays a lot of musical instruments, can write lyrics and is also a good producer. He sings, raps and dances (he was tagged in a dance cover on instagram, courtesy of someone named Park Seonghwa.) A passionate one in his career you assume as you watch one of his vlogs on facebook. You also listened to his recordings posted in his accounts, and you have to give him applause for his aesthetic instagram account.

He takes nice photos of his surroundings, even himself, and he does know how to make himself look good. He definitely knows the colors that suit him, outfits that make him stand out yet fully blended in the crowd if he wanted to. His hair is also unique, seems healthy despite the dyes that had stayed there for months before being layered by another one.

You lie on your bed, thinking that maybe the man himself isn't that bad. That you may have judged him early prior to knowing him. A fault on your part but it's not like you're going to meet or get to know him or the likes, you were simply curious about him and now that you have seen that his surface isn't dry nor rotten, your curiosity shall now die before the cat inside you does... and it's 3 in the fucking morning and you have 7 am classes so really, you'll still die either way.

What you did not expect though, as you wake up at 6:00 am, getting ready with max speed, was a notification that had you stumbling over your feet.

'Hongstagram has followed you back!'

Follow you back what? Since when did you follow him on his instagram?

You were careful! Very careful in what you were clicking and all that shit, not wanting to leave a trace of your visit in his social media accounts but you were so fucking wrong. You could blame the fuzzy feeling of drowsiness but you were so sure that you didn't click anything out of the ordinary.

Fuck your life.

That was your motto all day long, going as far as being dramatic with your friends during lunch break. Rambling about how he'll think you're a creep for stalking him or, or, how he'll think that you're interested in him when you swear to every rat out there that you're most certainly not.

It was horrible, except for the fact that you gotta eat coffee jelly for dinner because your father bought tons during a sale in the grocery and he couldn't resist his sweet tooth ass to buy some desserts.

Maybe you can sleep all of this away, yes, one night of beauty sleep will rejuvenate all of your worries except when Kim Hongjoong himself messaged you.

You jumped up from your bed when you accidentally tapped the notification on the upper half of your phone, due to your persistent tapping all over the screen because fuck that chop chop filter in tiktok (you're pretty sure you can cut that cucumber up to 200), opening the message and you contemplated whether to left it on read or be polite enough to reply.

You chose the latter, not really wanting for your name to be tarnished if this Hongjoong guy goes around and says that you're a snob.

Hongstagram: Hey Y/N! Sorry to disturb you, but may I talk to you tomorrow?

You: Good evening Hongjoong! I'm sorry my sched is kind of packed tomorrow, you can tell it now though.

Hongstagram: It's kind of embarrassing to say it through dms.

Oh my god. No fucking way. He's gonna confess.

Hongstagram: But okay, here goes nothing.

Hongstagram: I heard that you're one of the best students, so, could I borrow your notes for History? I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now because Mr. Lee talks about you every time he's in class and tbh, I couldn't care less about the minor subject. But still, I need to pass it in order to advance soo..

He was yapping so hard and you're ridiculing him inside your head but, the guy needs help and you're not some kind of witch with a stone heart. So you, being the kindest soul out there, decided to help him out.

You agreed to give him your notes and print-outs, but you didn't reply to him when he sent you a time and place for the meet-up.

Imagine his surprise when you arrived at the said café, on time and with a big, thick envelope in your hands, sitting in front of him without any trace of hesitance.

"Hi." you greeted him calmly, offering a handshake which he accepted with a smile, "Y/N here. Nice meeting you Hongjoong."

"Likewise. Thank you for entertaining my request." he replied, short but enthusiastic nonetheless.

Still, the awkward air is suffocating you and thank god the coffee and pastries can provide you some distraction because you truly cannot do this without going crazy.

Whatever confidence you had before was some kind of fallacy because you're a nervous wreck in front of this man. You're suddenly hit by the realization that this is the same guy that was rumored to have a crush on you and now you're sitting in this coffee shop with him, alone.

If someone from your university sees you two, that will surely cause a ruckus and your friends will probably bombard you with questions.

"Thank you for this, by the way." Hongjoong speaks up and it brings you back to reality, this time, you took a moment to take him in.

He really is fashionable, you'll give him that. His previously pink hair had turned into burgundy, he pairs his denims with leather better than anybody, and his color scheme for today is on point.

"You're most certainly welcome, I-"

"Listen, I know you know the rumors."

He cuts you off, rude. But he's getting straightforward now, nice.

Then you held a breath, is he actually confessing? If he did, how should you react? How should you answer?

You gulped, your palms getting sweaty and you couldn't help the tiny bit of excitement that coursed through your veins.

Your first ever confession after your dark, thunderous days of romance.

"Yes, I heard about it." you answered truthfully, giving him a small smile which he purposely avoided. This baffled you, shouldn't he be happy that you're giving him the time of your day?

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience but my friends are idiots. It's not you that I like." he admits, biting his lower lip and cautiously peers over your confused form.

You almost sputtered your coffee out, the sweetness of your iced hazelnut compensates well to the bitterness that was starting to spread out.

You faked a cough, sporting a feigned understanding countenance before asking for more elaboration, "If not me, then who is?"

He beams at you giddily and his answer almost made you want to leave.. almost.

"It's your friend, the cute one that you always help out during 21st Century Literature, Sakura." 

---------------------------------------------------

taglist:

@hyuckilstan @gwenchwana @minkiflwr @yeosangsbiceps @charreddonuts @justyoonsworld @hwadump @marievllr-abg

#ateez imagines #ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez reactions #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong imagines #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong hard hours #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong angst #yunho imagines #san imagines #seonghwa imagines #yeosang imagines #wooyoung imagines #jongho imagines #mingi imagines

[aroacesetitoff]

Infinight Interns Reference Sheet + Headcanons

Bartholomew Finn

-Vest of Slow Descent-i made it green based off his canon design and then gave it "feathered" hems to allude to its ability

-pre-Draconic Transformation Bart-gave him silver jewelry and the only draconic traits are gold freckles, fangs, and shorter horns

-post-Draconic Transformation Bart-gold jewelry to match with his dad (Simsun), and of course claws and scales and larger horns

-boatswain's call whistle-a reference to the Jebediah + Capt. Marge

-gave him the thigh dagger sheath-cause why not. I think Bart's that character in movies that has a shit ton of knives hidden in the most improbable places

-he's got a 17 string lute, but lets be honest i aint drawing 17 strings. painted a wave design on the body and the soundhole/rosette has a dagger design

-Breath Diagem/lute pick ftw

-scars on his hands (from doing hot boi sailor shit)

-not shown but i think he's got a bunch of tattoos (like "I <3 Mom" for Marge, flowers for Gum Gum, crossed anchors, etc.)

-pupils are slitted like dragons and a very dark shade of blue

Kyborg the Mighty/Kydelius of Everwinter

-Fun Fact: i used to do archery! so some of his gear is based off of stuff I had. But you know cooler

-Canonically his hair pretty loose, and its pretty but my god its gonna get caught up in his bowstring man. braided/tied it back for practicality

-thigh highs. no notes

-gave him an armored version w/ fur because his current design didn't feel like Everwinter-y enough

-its not terribly visible but he has the Belt of Sick Trick so i put a bird on it (vaguely Tony Hawk reference)

-the Longer Bow Krystallina-gave it a snow fall design + red accents

-scars from archery, since this guy shoots barebow

-the left (flesh arm) side is the most armored and unscarred, and the right (metal arm) side is scarred + unprotected (bc u know its metal)

-pupils are really dark shade of red as a reference to the Source Diagem

-metal arm-i took an anatomy class not a robotics one, so the structure is based off human musculature (kinda) and i put the Source Diagem in his shoulder instead of his hand

Gum Gum Galindor

-star boi 🌟

-constellations on the inside of the brim of his hat that Bart sewed for him-(Bart's a sailor, he knows his constellations)

-the flowers (orange @ blue) on his hat represent him & Bart. The orange ones bigger bc u know thats his big bro right there

-the hoodie+pauldron+cross body strap combo is a direct copy of Bart's design bc thats what younger siblings do u know

-made the patches to repair his coat stars bc why not

-Random Axe of Kindness-the cute lil heart does not detract from the fact that its an axe

-timeskip design i went for a gardener vibe bc he works in the Orchidnage now-i think despite having the worst dad of the group, Gum Gum would be a pretty good father figure

-Staff of Flowers-i wanted to reference Dia w/ this one so I tried to have this be the most colorful part

-Bart pierced his ears at one point

-i gave him constellation freckles that showed up post Dia reveal

-he has his manacles yeah but i wanted to design friendship bracelets for the rest of the team

-Mudd's-green thread with pink & white flower beads-the charm is Gumbo

-Bart's-leather cord with blue & gold beads and an anchor charm

-Kyborg's-brown leather cord, green beads, and a red arrow charm

-made his pupils a lighter shade of blue that glows when he uses Wild Magic

-edit: lots of scars, some from fighting, a lit from just tripping and shit. Also a dog bite from that one time

Mudd Bramblecrack

-i love him but it was so hard to come up with a design

-the pink streak keeps moving bc im inconsistent and also bc he has to redye/cut his hair constantly

-the "fur" cloak is the Cloak of the Secluded Garden, and its actually pine leaves & grass

-gave him a very simple tunic w/ a bramble design bc we would try to disguise his noble bg

-i put Mudd in a kilt bc i have free will and also he's Scottish. I dont think he would ever wear one unless for formal occasions tho bc i think they take a while to put on

-Gumbo :) + badger armor -this ones very specifically inspired by Lonna Bowstripe from the Redwall series

-originally had the purple gems on his tunic, made em earrings instead bc thats cooler

-Bramblecrack signet (?) ring-also the Virtues Diagem. Both this and his earring are purple bc its an ace reference (for me). The ring is definitely an ace reference bc i made it a black metal and put it on his right middle finger (ifykyk)

-pink paw pads + talons-less of a firbolg thing, more of a Moon Druid thing

-eyes are a rlly dark shade of green but glow a brighter shade when Wildshaping

-pupils are a rlly dark shade of purple (Diagem ref) and also horizontal like cows

Okay I think that's everything. If not ill just come back and edit it 🤷. working on the OG Infinights next so stay tuned or whatever

#my art #tales from the stinky dragon #tftsd #bartholomew finn #stinkydragonpod #mudd bramblecrack #kyborg the mighty #gum gum galindor #headcanons

[belit0]

HELLO <D HOW ARE YOU?? i wanted to ask you how the uchihas would react if the reader wanted to be taking care of their skin etc.?? (basically, giving him a skincare routine)

take care of yourself!! <3

new HC revealed: Indra has sun freckles🤗💫

take care of yourself too, darling!!

Indra

- To be completely honest, Indra doesn't need it. He's the type of person who washes his face with a brick and has flawless skin just the same. The suggestion of a skincare routine is strange, he doesn't understand it, but he assumes it's about all those products (Y/N) puts on every night and morning. He lends himself to it just to see if it makes a difference or if it's all bullshit, and is strangely fascinated by the glow of his skin once all the products are absorbed. His brown freckles glow like never before.

Madara

- What is that? Madara doesn't have good skin, often dealing with excessive oiliness and some closed comedones that provide a stubborn texture to his face, conditions that gave him self-consciousness all his adolescence and that he thought would be with him all his life, eventually getting used to it. When (Y/N) explains his task and proposes to treat his skin condition, he accepts with secret excitement for his texture to finally be fixed, and after months of diligent cleansing and repairing the skin barrier, he is a new man.

Izuna

- Love... LOVE! Izuna has been in the skincare game for years, with lots of practice and countless products tested by his own face. Of course, he ruined his face a million times with different creams, learned the hard way to use retinoids, and the terrible importance of sunscreen, having already identified which products cause an acne outbreak and which do not. He is the one who ends up giving (Y/N) indications and putting together a routine for her, improving some aspects of it, and providing her with a necessary update for better results.

Obito

- The idea excites him, but with the false hope that some of these products will help him with his scars. Obito doesn't have the slightest idea about skincare, and after receiving those iconic marks on his face, no one explained to him how he should treat them. (Y/N), in the face of his illusion, does her best to find something with the effect he's hoping for, but no product is magic and no cream erases what life decides to do. His skin improves, considerably, and he is so excited to see certain changes he even starts to inquire about procedures to treat his face.

Shisui

- Whatever. Another Uchiha who has perfect skin without making any effort, and hell he has a wonderful complexion. His own mother tried to introduce him to the world of personal care as a child, and seeing (Y/N) trying to do the same makes him nostalgic and tender. He will allow her to take care of his skin just to make her happy, but sees no results when she's done with the routine, and almost always forgets to implement it himself, not allowing the products to do anything for him.

Itachi

- Indeed, wonderful. Itachi went through so much at such a young age that he looks like a forty-year-old man at 25, a terrible insult to a face as beautiful as his. The expression marks under his eyes don't bother him but he doesn't like them either, and if something can be done about it he would love it. The signs of stress are terribly noticeable, not grossly explicit but striking, dull skin and rudely black circles under his eyes. (Y/N) takes it upon her shoulders to improve her complexion and bring his battered skin back to life, and once they find a suitable routine, Itachi won't budge from his products even with a judge's order.

#uchiha itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi x reader #uchiha obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader #obito x reader #shisui uchiha x reader #uchiha shisui x reader #shisui x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #uchiha izuna x reader #izuna uchiha x reader #izuna x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra #indra x reader #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #uchiha izuna #izuna #izuna uchiha #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #indra otsutsuki #indra #uchiha shisui

[avatarmerida]

@soldrawss : thinks of a huntlow AU

Me: instant brainrot

Sol posted a lounge singer/bartender AU on twitter like less than 48 hours ago and it instantly consumed me. I know nothing about lounge singers or what time period this is but I just went with it tbh here ya go. Part 2

———

She’s not coming over here, the voice in his head repeated as Willow lingered in the doorway of the backroom. No way, now way. Hunter had nearly jumped out of his skin when she came out, assuming she had left by now. The club had been closed for over an hour now, and he was always the last one out. But no, there she stood in the harsh light of the cheap light bulbs that seemed to favor her and her alone. 

She was a vision but she was no illusion.

Maybe there’s some creepy fan waiting outside for her, he thought. The very idea made him shudder. It wouldn’t be the first time, but Willow was the one the other girls called on to take care of these things. He remembered once Eda had kicked out some heckler who had been stealing drinks from other patrons and quickly over served himself. As he was unceremoniously escorted out, he declared that he’d be waiting outside all night. The singer finishing her set came up to the bar to get a drink and Hunter offered to call the police to at least have someone walk her home, but she said she wasn’t worried. Before he could ask why, Willow walked up and asked him for some ice. He saw her knuckles were bruised and had a few tiny fresh cuts, obviously from a recent altercation. Hunter quickly wrapped some ice in a clean rag and began rambling about getting the first aid kit but Willow just chuckled and said it was fine as  though it happened all the time (which Hunter later found out it did). 

“But…. But your hand,” he sputtered, amazed at how calm she was. 

“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, unbothered by the purple hue it had adopted. The ice had prevented the swelling, which seemed to be her biggest concern. “That’s why we wear gloves, right?” She gave him a wink and any chance that a Hunter had of being normal around her was gone. Hunter already knew she had the voice of an angel, but turns out she had the ruthlessness of one too. 

He was hooked.

So every night he sat at the bar, waiting for a glimpse of her. The regulars knew not to order a drink during her set because Hunter’s attention was rightfully elsewhere the moment she walked on stage. It wasn’t just her voice either, her sets were smart and funny too. She’d talk between songs, sometimes telling a story when she was introducing a number. Hunter wasn’t totally sure if they were true stories or just things she made up to help with transitions but any possibility at a glimpse into her life was too tempting to pass up.

Don’t stare, don’t be creepy, he thought, trying to steady his breath.  She had unpinned her hair but that only made her look more stunning in Hunter’s opinion. Her emerald green dress clung to her like it was aware of what an honor it was, making the room feel like it was bland and beige when she wasn’t occupying it. Without her signature white feather boa, he could see her bare arms, covered in freckles like a collection of constellations waiting to be discovered. He had never seen her so close before, he felt objectively starstruck. It was like his eyes didn’t know how to look anywhere else. It felt like being too close to sun.

Usually he could only see her face through a sea of people, the spotlight helped but it paled in comparison to her natural glow. It was like she was destined to always be across the room from him. He held his breath as though this was a sighting the slightest wrong move could ruin, as though she could be startled. But she rummaged through her bag and when she found what she was looking for, she reapplied her ruby lipstick in her handheld mirror shaped like a white rose. She was effortlessly elegant. As she blew a kiss at her reflection, he felt his pulse stop.

 She must be on her way somewhere, he thought. Of course she has a life outside this place, duh. He tried not to look like he was staring as he pretended to write something down, unaware he was holding the pen upside down.

From the corner of her eye, Willow scanned the room and saw they were alone. Perfect, she thought as she snapped her compact closed and made her way over to the bar. 

Be cool, be cool, he begged. He expected her to walk by him, maybe give him a small wave or a smile to acknowledge him and say goodnight. He was mustering up the courage to give her a nonchalant nod, like she was just another person in the bar and not the unknowing keeper of his heart. 

Oh Titan that’s so corny, he thought. There’s no way she even knows my name, I need to get over this-

“Hey Hunter,” she said, leaning on the counter like she was just anyone and not the most angelic thing to ever grace his bar.

“Oh, h-hey,” he attempted to respond casually, pretending to wipe the counter to look busy. He hadn’t exited her to stop. He cursed himself for not using her name as she had said his. He didn’t feel worthy of it. “Why are you here so late?”

 “Skara had a date so we all moved our schedules around to help her out and I ended up with the short straw,” she said. Hunter recalled she had gone on later than she usually did. “But I don't mind, it’s kinda cool seeing this place empty.”

“Eh, you get used to it,” he shrugged.

“That’s right, you always close, don’t you?” she said, knowing Hunter was a famous workaholic. “Oh wow, with the crowds you get I bet you like the peace and quiet at the end of the night.”

“It’s nice,” he admitted. “Gives me time to organize things and do inventory.”

“Oh shoot,  I’m probably interrupting your routine huh? Sorry, I can-.” she leaned back as though to leave but Hunter cut her off.

“No! Uh, I mean no… you’re not,” he tried to cover. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to, actually. Someone who's not slurring their words, that is.”

“Well then, if you don’t mind the company,” she said, setting her bag down and making herself more comfortable. “I don’t mind being it.”

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.

She had been hoping he would ask. “You sure? Wasn’t last call over an hour ago?”

“Well that was yesterday,” he said, preparing a glass for her. “According to the clock, it’s technically a new day.”

“Well whaddya know?” she said as she watched him add ice to the shaker as he proceeded to mix her drink. He thought about doing the tricks he and Luz had practiced to get extra tips on nights when they worked together, but the risk of dropping something and looking foolish was too great so he played it safe. In record time, she had a  drink in front of her.

“How did you know my drink order?” she asked, impressed. 

“I memorize everyone’s,” he half-lied.

“Wow,” she cooed, stirring her drink as she watched him move behind the bar. “You know every drink by heart?”

“I mean, pretty much,” he said. “Just makes things easier, really. Sometimes I make up drinks when it’s slow.”

“Really? Do you give them fun names?”

“Huh? Oh, kinda? I-I mostly name them after birds.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I uh, I like birds.”

“Oh?” she said, tapping the glass with her nail. Do you like songbirds? She wanted desperately to ask, but instead she said: “Really? What’s your favorite one?”

“Um, well I have the cardinal which is just cranberry juice and bourbon and but I add some garnishes on the side that make it look cool,”

“I’ll take one,” she smiled and Hunter went to work. The moment she set her empty glass back on the counter, he had another one ready in hand for her. She knew he was famous around the club for his attention to detail but she selfishly hoped the gesture was based in special attention to her.

She took a sip and her eyes widened in delight. “Oh! I love this!” She said and Hunter beamed as though it was the only drink he had ever made. “Eda said you were the one who made custom drinks for her and Raine’s wedding.”

“Well, it wasn’t too hard,” he said. “They have very distinct personalities, Raine wanted their drink to be something easy on the stomach but with a hint of apple while Eda cared more about her drink ‘weeding out the weak.’”

“Oh I remember those,” laughed Willow. The wedding had been the first time Willow saw Hunter, it was when she found out he would be working at the club. She had maybe had one too many ‘Eda’s Elixirs’ (some kind of apple moonshine mixed with red wine and whiskey and some secret fourth thing that made it work somehow) and thought she had imagined the stoic blonde she had dubbed ‘Prince Jawline.’ But he turned out to be real, a friend of a friend, a future coworker, a kindred spirit even. A man she still referred to as Prince Jawline when he came up in conversation. He didn’t remember meeting her there, but memory loss was a common theme that night.

But luckily Willow was just slightly better at holding her liquor.

“What about me?” she said, trying to sound as though she hadn’t been dying to ask. “If you had to make a drink named after me, what would it be?”

“Hmmm,” he thought for only a moment. “Probably sparkling white wine and kiwi. It would be bubbly and sweet and green, just like you. And I’d add a pink flower garnish, like the one you sometimes wear in your hair.”

Willow blushed, having thought her question would adorably stump him so she could make a joke about him being a tall drink of water. But this was much better.

 “Well, looks like I have a new usual then, huh?” She said with a smile as he went to give her a sample of his apparently improvised creation. He made sure to select the most elegant glass. 

“So, what’s your secret?” she asked and he froze for a moment before she continued. “How do you make these taste so good?”

“Oh, that! Oh it’s uh it’s the cherries,” he said. “I always put extra cherries in just about everything to make it sweeter.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, you can’t give up your secret so easily, bar boy,” she teased, picking out one of the aforementioned cherries. 

“Usually as a bartender, I’m the one people tell their secrets to,” he joked, trying to focus on counting the limes and lemons. But he hadn’t retained anything except the way Willow’s voice danced, the way it got slow and sneaky when she made a joke. It was the way she talked between her sets when she was introducing a love song.

“Ohh, you’ve got a stash of secrets, huh?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “Anything good?”

“Well, I knew about the Blight divorce I think before even Odalia did,” he said in a low voice, fully aware no one else was there or would be there. But he liked how Willow leaned in closer to hear him when he did.

“No!” she gasped.

“Yeah!” he said. He had never been one for gossip, but that was no longer a secret so it didn’t count, right?

“Oh, what else?” she asked, sipping her drink in anticipation. 

“Oh, wow I can hardly keep it sorted,” he said. “I get people telling me about how they hate their jobs, how they’re afraid of getting older. Oh man, you can’t imagine how many confessions of love I get in a night.”

“I dunno, I bet I probably can,” she said with a smirk he thought he imagined. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Anything,” Hunter said, hoping his smile was as charming as he was manifesting it to be. She paused for a moment to create suspense before a smile overtook her face.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” she said before erupting into a sea of giggles. She laughed with her whole body, her whole self present in the silliness and Hunter was so captivated that he almost didn’t notice she was about to fall off her stool. Hunter reached out and grabbed her hand to steady her and she looked at him in awe as he pulled her forward.

He gulped. “W-what do you mean?”

“I can’t wear my glasses onstage because of the glare from the uh light,” she explained breathlessly, not removing herself from his grasp. “So the whole time I’m up there I can’t see anything.”

“Nothing?”

She slowly shook her head, her eyes still locked on him. “Nope, nothing,” she said, biting her lip. “Not unless they’re real close.”

Hunter then realized he was still holding her hand as he leaped backward as though she was on fire. She giggled again, it was like every sound she made was music. He pretended to be invested in the bottles near him.

“Oh uh wow I had no idea,” he chuckled.

“Well I guess that’s a good thing,” she said, sitting back. “It helps get rid of the stage fright when you can’t tell the difference between a packed house and an empty one.”

“You hardly seem like the type to have stage fright,” he said, cleaning out another glass that definitely was not dirty. Or an empty house, he wanted to add.

“Thanks,” she smiled, stirring the remaining ice cubes in her cup with her straw. “You’re sweet.”

“So uh, if you’re not looking at anyone what do you think about up there?” asked Hunter nervously. “Just because you always seem like you’re singing to someone, but that’s probably just because you’re a good performer.”

She smiled. “Skara taught me this trick for how to tilt my head so people think I’m singing to just them,” said Willow. “But I’m actually just looking at the back wall. Or would be, if I could see it. Huh, I guess I’m technically looking at you when I sing.”

He nearly dropped the glass on the counter. “Huh uh yeah well uh but it's not like you can see me or uh anything,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah,” she said, swirling the lingering ice in the cup in her hand. “Shame.”

“Did you want another?”

“I should probably slow down,” she chuckled. “I’ve already had three. Think I’ll work on some of these cherries.”

“Oh yeah you’re probably starving,” said Hunter, feeling stupid “Nothing’s gonna be open now, do you want me to get you like some pretzels or something? I could see if-,”

“No, no, no,” she insisted. “I already made you wash three extra glasses, I am not gonna let you go to any more trouble for me.”

He’d go to all kinds of trouble for her.  

“Fair enough,” he said as he went back to his usual duties.

“Hmm, ya ever try to tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue?” she asked, starting to feel the alcohol warm her chest and make her feel cheeky.. 

“What? Uh, no I don’t think I have?” he chuckled, having never heard of such a thing.

“Here,” she said, tapping the glass nearly full of them as she took one for herself. “Try it.”

He indulged her, taking a cherry and popping it in his mouth as Willow did the same. She watched in delight as he focused on trying to maneuver the stem in his mouth, holding back the giggles as she tried not to win their unofficial race by too much. At last, a look of surprise showed in his eyes as he went to carefully pull out his creation.

“You did it!’ she exclaimed, taking out her matching knot to compare.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “That’s so weird, is that like a party trick or something?”

“Hmm, something like that,” she said, making circles on the counter with her finger. “If you can do it, it’s supposed to mean you’re a good kisser.” She added her latest knot to a glass filling up with stems before giving him a wink. 

“Oh,” he said, nearly choking on nothing. Had he known, he would’ve tried to be cooler about it. Her reveal got exactly the reaction she had been hoping for. She loved the way his blush reached his ears. “I uh I didn’t well I don’t even-,”

“What do I owe ya, bar keep?” She said, resting her chin in her fist, having no intention of leaving but knowing he’d be caught in that loop for awhile.

“It’s on the house,” he said, shaking himself out of his trance before deciding to put a single glass away just to seem busy. He wanted to just talk to her, but was worried that focusing on that without a task to keep him busy would make saying something stupid easier. This way he didn’t need to worry about what to do with his hands or if he was staring. He was so used to staring at her freely from across a crowded room, seeing her so close felt almost forbidden.

“Oh no I know how badly this place pays,” she said. “Gimme the damage.”

“Oh no no, you misunderstand,” he said, leaning down with his elbows on the counter to see her better, feeling a burst of confidence for some reason. “When I say it’s ‘on the house’ I mean it’s on Odalia’s tab.”

“Oh, well in that case,” she leaned forward and reached over the bar to grab another bottle from underneath as she quickly unscrewed the top. “Pour yourself a glass then too.”

“Heh, I’d love to but I’m not supposed to drink on the job,” he said, his heart racing at the effortless way she had secured the bottle. He had never been so jealous of a bottle before.

“Awh, you sure? I hate to drink alone,” she teased. She examined his face to see if the phrase sparked a locked memory, but no. He didn’t remember saying that to her at the wedding. Nevertheless, she knew he was ever the professional, only he would consider being the empty bar so far after closing time as still being on the job. “What about a Shirley Temple? Extra cherries?”

He chuckled. “Well, now how did you know my drink of choice?” he said with charisma he hadn’t seen in years, preparing two of them, somehow knowing she’d also want one.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me,” she said with a grin, As he passed her drink to her, she reached out and purposely placed her hand over his. She could feel his hand lean into the touch as the tips of their fingers fought the urge to interlace. “Thanks.” She made her voice light and airy. 

“Oh yeah, sure,” sputtered Hunter, slipping his hand away as he mentally cursed himself for not being able to match her energy. He wasn’t entirely sure what the energy was, but he was not hating it. “T-thank you too.”

“‘Thank me?’ For what?” she chuckled.

“For… being here, I guess,” he said, not sure what he had meant either. He cleared his throat as he tried to compose a better explanation. “It’s nice having you here. Not just now, either. All the time. I’m kind of a big fan of yours.”

“Really?” she asked. She hiccupped, her hand darted to her mouth to cover it in embarrassment. She shook her head, hoping to shake them and continue to appear cool and collected.

Hunter smiled. “Yeah, I mean, you’re amazing,” he said. “T-the songs you pick are amazing. The way you… I mean, it’s all amazing.”

“Aww,” Hiccup. Darn it, why now??? She thought. But she tried to embrace it, hopefully he would think it was cute. 

He did.

“What’s the sweetest drink you got?” She asked, failing to suppress another hiccup. “Cause that should be the one named after you.” She held her glass to her lips and gave him a wink. 

There were many drinks she could name after Hunter.

One night, she had a sore throat which made her singing sound raspy and deeper. It was a nice sound, but by the end of the night she could barely speak. When she got off stage, Hunter had sent Luz with a special mixture of honey and lemon that had her back to normal the next day. She hadn’t told anyone she was sick or asked for a remedy, but he just knew. 

When she had to work on her birthday, he added a sparkler to her drink. She didn’t know how he knew, she must’ve mentioned once in passing long ago, but he remembered. Luz said he had special ordered the sparklers, so it definitely wasn’t a last minute thing. 

Dang it, that would’ve been a great time for the tall drink of water thing, she thought. The alcohol was making her a little spacy and she missed the way Hunter stopped functioning at her sweetness remark. She let out another hiccup, nearly spilling the drink she held to her lips. Hunter snapped out of his trance as he tried in vain to hide his chuckle and Willow pretended to be offended. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” he laughed in spite of himself. “It’s not bad I swear it’s really… endearing.”

“‘Endearing?’” she repeated, raising her eyebrow. He didn't want to say ‘cute.’ He thought it was cute, but he didn’t want to say that. She hiccupped again and he couldn't help but offer her a guilty smile and she gave him a faux vicious stare. “Well, they may be endearing to you but they’re getting on my nerves.”

“Here,” he said, reaching down to grab something from the fridge. “Biting on a lemon is supposed to help them go away.” He presented her with a recently cut lemon wedge.

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re joking.”

“No, no I swear,” he insisted. 

“Okay then,” she said, reaching down to grab another lemon from the tray. “I’ll do it if you do.”

He was going to protest, saying he didn’t have the hiccups. But instead, he took the slice from her and allowed their finger to brush once more. “Deal.”

She smiled as they both looked at each other and felt something shift. Willow was insanely competitive, and she heard Hunter was too. Mentally, they decided to enter a match to see who could endure the sour taste the longest. They both brought forth their best poker face as they tried to seem casual about the sharp acidity. They stared at each other with cutthroat intensity as their eyes began to water. 

They surrendered at the same time, each discarding their lemons in a napkin  as they exclaimed their remorse.

“Hey, I think it worked,” laughed Willow, waiting another moment to see if a hiccup would interrupt. When he didn’t she refocused on the tart taste lingering in her lips. “Oof, I guess that’s why I don’t sing ‘Life is just a bowl of lemons.’”

Hunter laughed, debating if he should mention her rendition of the song had been his inspiration for adding extra cherries (he had ordered extra, thinking about her while filling out the order form). 

“I’m sure you could make even that sound lovely,” he said softly.

She giggled, before taking a deep breath and sliding closer to him. “Liiife,” she sang sweetly and quietly, as though wanting to lure him closer. “Is just a bowl of… lemons.”

Hunter hadn’t had a sip of alcohol but he might as well have been drunk. Her voice seemed to surround him in an embrace, pulling and pushing him forward as it guided it toward her peridot eyes. 

“I-I like it,” he said, trying to remember how to breathe normally. He gulped as she prolonged her gaze on him and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll dedicate it to you,” she decided, sucking her teeth as she suddenly felt inspired. “Hey you want a sneak peek at something I’ve been working on?”

“Really?” he said, eyes widened before he caught himself. “I-I mean uh, really?” He tried to downplay his interest, but she could see through him. 

“Yeah,” she said, twirling the end of her hair. “You up for a private concert?”

“You don’t have to,” it hurt him to say, He didn’t want to impose. “I mean, you’re off the clock and I don’t wanna-.”

“Oh hush,” she said, flicking the loose strand of hair in the front of his hair, like she just needed an excuse to be closer to him. “You won’t let me pay you for the drinks, consider it a tip.”

“Okay,” he said, not trying too hard to summon an argument. She clapped her hands in excitement as though she didn’t do this practically every day. 

“The mic’s not on, but with no one in here the acoustics are really great,” she said, hopping off the stool. She took her long skirt in her hand as she ran back to the stage, tapping the microphone as she often did before her sets, though nothing happened. She giggled and ran over to the piano to find her starting note as she prepared to sing acapella.

“Okay, well this one isn’t on the set, so lemme know what you think, okay?” She called as she smoothed her dress. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

She took a deep breath and suddenly the alluring sound of her voice flooded the empty room. She knew how to perfectly adjust her pacing to the echoes the emptiness caused. It was haunting and enchanting and Hunter felt as though he could melt into the floor as it swept over him. 

“Some day, when I’m awfully low

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight…”

As Hunter stood behind the bar feeling a familiar lightheadedness her voice inspired, he couldn't help but notice she had put her glasses on before she started singing. There was no one else here, but she wanted to make it absolutely certain that she saw him.

Inventory could wait until the morning.

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #huntlow au #toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh #winter toh

[sketches4mysw33theart]

Dear Chef

Title:  Dear Chef  Synopsis: Willy Wonka receives an unexpected letter and, after asking you to read it, gets extremely excited about its contents.    Word Count: 1.5k  Warnings: None

You couldn’t find Willy. And that was unusual. You could always find Willy. He made his presence known wherever he went, one way or another.

He wasn’t in the wash house, pretending to work hard while his mind eloped to faraway places. He wasn’t in his room, pacing carelessly along the creaky floorboards, absentmindedly dodging the drip-catching buckets and mumbling to himself with one of his knuckles pressed to his mouthing lips. He wasn’t in Noodle’s room, talking the poor girl’s ear off about anything and everything his wicked mind settled upon. He wasn’t pacing the streets of the city, searching for vital ingredients or sharing his chocolate with the world; this you knew as the others were all still down in the wash house, playing cards for washing chores.

At a loss, you snuck back upstairs, heading to your own room to see if you could spot him sunning himself on the neighbour’s roof through your window, which he had been known to do on occasion – not that it ever made much difference to his milky complexion. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you turned into the open door.

Willy was there, standing by the window, a rakish splay of rich purple along the canvas of open blue sky, the soft curls of his hair shining in a chestnut glow beneath the streaming sun. The light breeze lifted the netting curtain as gently as breath, which stroked at the bareness of the arms sticking out of his rolled-up sleeves, but he was too entranced to notice. He didn’t even acknowledge you when you said his name.

Louder, you called for him, broaching the enclave of the room with lithe steps. At the echo of your voice, Willy turned his head to face you, an unreadable expression spread across the soft angles of his face, from his full doe eyes to his rolled-thin lips. There were bags under his eyes, heavy, foreboding, unforgiving, and it only added to the tension on his face. Immediately you stopped. “What’s wrong?”

His expression did not crack, but he swivelled his body to face you. “I got a letter, Y/N,” he said quietly, amazement tainting each inflexion of his whimsical voice. Emphasising his point, Willy threw up his hand, revealing the creamy envelope clutched in his nimble fingers. You caught his name on the front, above that of the city, but no other details besides. This letter must have travelled a long way.

“Oh, wow! Who’s it from?” you asked, enthusiastic but relieved. He’d seemed awful worried when you’d first walked in to find him there. To your surprise, his face did not lighten at your enthusiasm; if anything, it worsened, a crestfallen expression dawning on his countenance.

“I’m not too sure. I haven’t opened it.” He sounded as disconsolate as he looked, and you drew closer to him to take his free hand in yours. He smiled at that, his cheeks rounding and eyes illuminating.

“Are you okay?” you asked. Willy nodded, and with that smile on his face, you believed him.

“Yes, but…” A rosy glow spread across his freckled face, and he looked at you with his big eyes. “Y/N, would you mind, er… could you read it for me?” You gave him a gentle smile and reached to take the letter from his hand as you said, “Of course, Willy.”

The envelope was heavy and smudged with black marks and grubby fingerprints, with the shimmering red ink just barely legible. Letting go of Willy’s hand, you shuffled to your makeshift desk to retrieve a pair of broken scissors you kept around – it was surprising how often they came in useful.

Once you’d ripped open the letter, you turned to find Willy sitting cross-legged on your bed, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and chin balanced on his fists, looking over at you expectantly. It relieved you to see that the thundercloud had been blown from his face, replaced by its usual sunlight of ages.

Opting to sit on the floor, you leaned back against the bed, your head resting lightly against the chocolate maker’s legs, ensuring he could see the letter over your shoulder. Little did you know, he spent the time with his cheek pushed into one of his balled-up hands, watching his other run through your hair as soft and free as water.

“Dear Chef,” you began reading, leaning into his touch.

We hope this letter finds you well. We miss you onboard! It’s still tough at sea but we’re planning to make port near you once more, around March. Have you opened your magnifique chocolaterie yet? Will we see you? Hoping so! We’ll be in town in a few weeks. Look for us in King's Market – we'll be looking for you.

Sincerely,

Each person on the ship had hurriedly scribbled down their signature, sending their previous chef plenty of goodwill, and you read off each name diligently.

“This is only dated a couple of weeks ago,” you commented enthusiastically as you finished the letter, giving the scattered handwriting a quick final once over. “You’ll be able to see your shipmates again, Willy!”

You leant your head back to look up at him, where it fit perfectly on his lap. To your immense relief, he was smiling down as he stared dreamily out of the window, cupping your head in his soft hand.

“Yes,” he said, dreamily, “that’s wonderful.” Then, suddenly, he sprang up, unravelling his legs as nimbly as a gymnast but keeping his hand momentarily against your head to cushion its sudden release. “Gosh, so much to do now. I’ll have to wash this overcoat, clean my boots, make plenty more chocolate, collect some rose petals…” He continued mumbling to himself, some common domestic tasks and other ridiculously insane activities, as he raced to your desk and flung open one of the drawers, now alive with inspiration.

He came up with a pencil and grasped the smudged envelope, turning it over to scribble quickly along the back of it. You, now propped up on the edge of the bed and watching him with a fond smile, folded the letter up carefully as you spoke. “Willy, they won’t care what you look like – they'll only want to see you.”

He looked up at you with a small hum of acknowledgment, as though he’d already forgotten you were there. “Oh, this isn’t for them, Y/N!” He turned the envelope to show you a list of drawings of his to-do list – boots, coat, chocolate, rose etc. - finished off with a rough sketch of a shop, clearly labelled Wonka and surrounded by carefully drawn stripes and stars.

“If I want to get my chocolate shop before they arrive, I have to be in tip-top shape.” He tossed the envelope down and started pacing, twiddling the graphite pencil between his fingers as he spoke. “Now, we’ll have to start tomorrow, no, tonight, I’ll need to make much more chocolate, and we’ll have to be out early in the morning, plenty of city to cover. Where’s Noodle? She can help me, and I owe her a day’s worth of chocolate anyway, so I can…”

You were giggling, and that’s what finally stopped his rambling. “What?” he asked innocently, smiling, but it did little to stop your giggling fit. It worsened it, in fact, and as tears formed in your eyes, he couldn’t help but laugh with you.

“You think I’m going over the top, don’t you?” he asked when you’d both calmed into a silence of smiles and red faces, walking back over to you. Once he’d situated himself down beside you on the edge of the bed, he nudged your leg teasingly with his.

“No,” you said almost immediately because it was true. “You want them to be proud of you, and there’s no shame in that. But, we’re not going to get a shop overnight, no matter how clean you are or how many chocolates you sell.”

“Oh, stranger things happen every day,” he said confidently, but you looked at him with your eyebrows raised. “But I do think, on this occasion, you may be right,” he conceded with a smile. “Still, that doesn’t mean they’re not important. It just means that they can wait until tomorrow.”

As perfect a time as any, Willy yawned wanly, curving a finger somewhat uselessly to cover the cavern of his mouth.

“And that sounds like a good thing,” you laughed, as he smacked his lips, allowing his head to fall onto your shoulder. “Mm, I am rather tired,” he mumbled. With a contented hum, he nuzzled his nose into the soft skin of your neck, and you poked him gently in his side.

“It’s mid-afternoon, Willy, we are not sleeping.” Undeterred, he snuck his arms around your waist, snuggling in closer to the heat of your body. With a barely disguised grin, you were quick to hold him back.

“No, but we can just have a little lie-down, right? Then I’ll clean those chocolates and make those boots and collect those overcoats and… hm, what else was there?”

You laughed. "Yes, the chocolate shop will wait until tomorrow.” At that moment, the cathedral bell rang across the city, four pronounced bongs echoing along the cobbled streets.

“We have an hour until roll call.” Willy groaned as you pulled away from him, but was quickly quietened as you ushered him to lie down properly so you could join him. “We’d best make the most of it.”

#willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #fanfic #timothee chalamet x reader

[lucidlivi]

Chosen For Pleasure (X)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

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**Attempted sexual assault at the end of chapter, please don't read if it is triggering for you! Also I am available if anyone EVER needs to talk! I love you all!**

“you know what fuck slow”

In less than a second I attached my lips to Jensen’s neck kissing and sucking gently. He wasted no time moving his hands under my shirt, his hands exploring to my silk bra covered breasts.

“are you sure this is what you want?” Jensen asked with a groan.

I removed my lips from his neck, looking in his eyes.

“you don’t?”

“no, god no of course I want this, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” He said sincerely.

I gave him a smile before bringing my shirt over my head.

“do you want to keep talking, or do you want to take the rest of my clothes off?" I whispered seductively.

"I want to take the rest of your clothes off." Jensen groaned, reaching me with one quick stride.

His hands flew up to my bra, pulling it away from my body. I moaned as his lips attached to my neck, kissing and licking down to my now exposed breasts. I threw my head back as his lips wrapped around my nipple lightly nipping it.

I grabbed his shirt to tug it over his head, he detached from my nipple and pulled it the rest of the way off. I let my hands explore his toned chest as his hand fumbled with the hem of my pants.

"Jensen I want you."

He picked me up, stumbling towards my bedroom. He laid me down on the bed gently. In a swift motion, he had my pants down around my ankles.

"Fuck." He groaned taking in the sight of my red lace thong.

He pulled it to the side, attacking my core with his lips. I gasped at the sudden sensation. I brought my hands up, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to bring him closer. I could hear the groans slip out of his mouth as I tugged on his hair.

"I want to please you." I moaned.

"believe me, you already are." Jensen groaned.

He stood up, stripping out of his khakis. He gazed at me lustfully.

"you're so fucking beautiful." He said licking his lips.

He threw his boxers down around his ankles stepping out of them quickly. I could feel my breath quicken as he ran a hand over his length. In one quick movement, he was buried deep inside me. I groaned at the sensation forgetting how big he was.

"I forgot how good you feel." Jensen groaned as he pulled out before burying himself back inside.

"Jensen it feels so good." I moaned.

I brought my hips up to meet his thrusts. He was taking his time, savoring the feeling. It was the most sensual it's ever been between us. I moaned getting needy. I needed more friction. Jensen took that as a sign and sped up his thrusts, each one harder than the last.

"not going to last much longer sweetheart." He groaned.

I moaned in response. I was about to come undone. Jensen grabbed on to my waist, his fingers digging in to my hip bones.

"J." I moaned as I came undone, a withering mess beneath him.

I clenched around him, causing his release as well. He rode out his high before collapsing beside me. I took a moment to catch my breath before laying my head on his chest. His arm snaked around me pulling me closer.

"I missed that." I said with a slight laugh.

"me too." He smiled.

I looked up at his handsome face. He really was flawless. His jaw was the perfect shape, sharp, but not too defined. His eyes glowed a certain way. Freckles peppered over his nose, giving him a youthful look. His eyes met mine as we silently stared at each other. I could see his eyes focusing on my lips. It was like he wanted to kiss me but was fighting an internal battle.

"it's okay." I whispered bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.

He gave me a look that said he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"I'm trying." He said with a shaky breath.

"I know you are, and it's okay, you do it when you're ready." I smiled rubbing a thumb over his defined cheek bone.

It was quiet, as we lay wrapped around each other. I've never felt more content than in this moment. I really was falling in love with this man, and it scared me how fast it happened.

"why do you think you waited to have sex?" Jensen asked running his hand up and down my side.

"I don't know, it just never felt right, I guess I was looking for something exceptional.."

I bit my lip raising my head to gaze in his eyes again.

"and then I met you." I whispered.

Jensen smirked before flipping me over so he was hovering over me.

"do you know how hot it is that I'm the only guy that's ever been inside you?" He murmured, his fingers dancing over my thighs.

I rolled my eyes with a scoff.

"I'm trying to be sweet right now and you're distracting me with your fuckery."

"my fuckery?"

"yeah your fuckery." I laughed.

"hmm so I guess you don't want any of my fuckery." He whispered, running a finger over my folds.

I gasped, throwing my head back against the pillow. He teased my entrance with his fingers.

"definitely don't want any of your fuckery." I tried to choke out but the underlying moan in my voice gave me away.

He smirked as he entered two fingers, pumping them in and out at an even pace. I bit back a moan. He inserted another finger, quickening his pace. It was a euphoric feeling.

I was a mess of moans as he worked me with his fingers. He worked them faster and faster until I could no longer take the sensation.

"that's it angel let go." Jensen groaned huskily, triggering my release.

He removed his fingers, bringing them up to his lips to taste me.

I don't think I'll ever get this sight out of my head. It was the sexiest thing ever.

He laughed as he fell back down beside me. He pulled me to his chest again, and we laid there in silence just enjoying being in each others presence. It was awhile before Jensen spoke up.

"did you turn the stove off?" He asked inhaling.

I inhaled too, smelling the faint smell of smoke. I quickly jumped up throwing on my panties and a t-shirt before running out to see our steak completely burned.

"so I'm thinking take out." He joked standing in the doorway now in his boxers and a t-shirt.

"take out would be good." I laugh tossing the burnt steak in the trash.

It was a calm rest of the night. We ordered chinese food, and split a bottle of wine. It was relaxing to see him unwind. It was late now, Stella texted to say she was spending the night at Matt's and she'd see me before work tomorrow. We were chatting while working on the remainder of the wine.

"so I have something better for you to do this weekend." Jensen spoke up before sipping on his glass.

"oh yeah what's that?" I asked sipping my own.

"go to a ball, with me."

"a ball?"

"yeah, it uh benefits Jared's charity, I really want you to come with me."

"I would love to go to a ball with you, though I don't think I even have anything worthy to wear to a ball." I laughed at how fancy this sounded.

"well lucky for you, your boyfriend is a billionaire." He smirked.

I felt my heart rate increase, hearing him call himself my boyfriend was a feeling indescribable.

"and.." I joked knowing what he meant.

"and, tomorrow after work, we'll go get you something worthy of wearing to a ball." He said placing a kiss on my cheek.

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to protest because I knew I would lose.

"well I can get it myself considering I now have 40,000." I said giving him a look.

He held up his hands in surrender giving me a laugh.

"how in the hell did you get my bank account details?" I questioned.

"I knew you would never accept my check, so I had my guys look in to it."

"your guys?" I asked cocking an eyebrow.

"well mainly Cole."

"you really better give Cole a break, or a raise." I joked.

Jensen laughed for a moment too, before the silence fell between us.

"I uh should go, it's late." He said looking at the clock.

I bit my lip shaking my head slowly. I didn't want him to go.

"or you could stay." I whispered, mustering up the courage.

Jensen smiled, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

"I thought you'd never ask."

He picked me up bridal style, walking me to my bedroom. He set me on the bed, climbing in next to me. I instinctively cuddled in to his chest as his arms enveloped me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, the sound of Jensen's soft snores filling my ears.

It was hours later that I awoke with a startle, hearing something. My vision was blurry as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, but for a second, it looked like a woman was standing at the foot of my bed, staring at me and Jensen. I blinked again, sitting up, but no one was there.

I sighed glancing at Jensen's sleeping form. He always looks the most at peace when he's sleeping. I took a deep breath cuddling back in to his chest. I closed my eyes hoping for uninterrupted blissful sleep, next to the man I was crazy about.

****************************************************

I awoke to my alarm tone, blaring in my ears. I let out a groan, reaching a hand out to turn it off. I tried to roll over but Jensen had me trapped in his arms. I couldn't fight the smile as I shook him slowly. He fluttered his eyes open, giving me a peck on the cheek.

"now this is something I could get used to." I said smiling.

"me too." He said.

"me three."

I looked in the doorway seeing Stella standing there with her hands on her hips.

"but next time, try not to burn down our kitchen." she said with a scowl.

I laughed at her, as she left to get ready for work.

"ugh, I don't want to get up, I just want to lay in your arms." I said placing an arm over my eyes to block out the sunlight.

I heard Jensen chuckle before he removed my arm from my face.

"I would love nothing more than that, but believe me, they wouldn't survive in the office without me, also you have to tell your boss you aren't going to New York this weekend."

Fuck.

I completely forgot about that. Gray was going to be pissed, but in my defense, I didn't know about it in advance.

"yeah I do." I sighed sitting up.

"but I'll be around after to pick you up." He smiled sitting up also.

I gave him a confused look.

"to go dress shopping." He laughed.

"right, for the ball." I said in a posh fancy accent.

"alright, I should get going." He said standing up, pulling his pants on.

He leaned over placing a kiss on my cheek.

"see you later."

"see you later." I whispered.

I watched him walk away, a beaming smile on my face. Stella passed him with a wave before she appeared in the doorway of my bedroom.

"so are we going to talk about all this."

"mhmm probably not." I joked wrapping the blanket around me before sauntering into the bathroom.

I could hear her protest as I shut the door turning on the shower. I quickly stripped, stepping in to the warm stream of water. I let my thoughts run wild as I washed my hair and body.

I had no idea what to say to Gray. I don't think it'll matter what I say. He's going to be pissed either way. I just hope he didn't fire me over this. It was all a big misunderstanding. I let the water wash over my naked body rinsing the soap away before stepping out to dry off. I moved at a sluggish pace, getting more anxious by the minute.

****************************************************

At this point, I didn't care anymore if my coworkers stared or gossiped about me, it just meant they were jealous. I was more focused on the conversation I would have to have with Gray.

"relax, everything will be fine." Stella assured.

I explained the situation to her in the car, she agreed that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to go with him to New York.

"something about him just seems off."

Stella didn't know how right she was.

I didn't see him when we walked in, he was already holed up in his office working on a project. I sat down chewing on my lip while starting up my laptop. I spent the morning waiting for Gray to come out but he hasn't. I guess it was one of those days where we wouldn't see a lot of him, which meant I was going to have to go to him. I was trying to work up the nerve, but I ended up psyching myself out every time. It got to closing time, and I still haven't worked up the courage, however I knew I needed to do it today or else I never would. I was so lost in thought I didn't see that everyone was packing up for the day.

"hello earth to (y/n)." Stella said waving a hand in front of my face.

"sorry Stell." I said turning my attention towards her.

"I asked if you needed anything before I left." She said giving me a smile.

"uh yeah if you could slam my head off the desk so I wouldn't have to talk to Gray that'd be great." I joked.

"you're overthinking this, just go talk to him and then go pick out a pretty dress with your boyfriend." She said giving me a hug before gathering her stuff and heading towards the door.

She was right, I just needed to suck it up and do it. I sighed heavily before walking to his office. I lightly rapped my knuckles on the door, grabbing his attention. He smiled waving me in. I took a shaky breath as I entered, standing awkwardly in his doorway.

"I've been meaning to come talk to you, I just got so busy, did you find a room yet for New York?" He asked.

"about that, I uh didn't know I was supposed to attend and I kind of already made plans that I can't get out of." I whispered with a shaky voice.

It wasn't a total lie.

I could see his eyebrows furrow in anger.

"have a seat." He said gesturing to his plush chairs.

I slowly sat, gazing up to meet his eyes. He came around his desk to stand in front of me.

"I'm concerned about you, do you want this job?"

"of course I want my job, I love my job." I defended.

"anyone else would be jumping at this opportunity, so why aren't you?"

"I'm sorry Gray it was just a misunderstanding."

"a misunderstanding really? or was it that boyfriend of yours? I think he's distracting you from your work." Gray growled.

"no that's not it at all."

"why don't I believe you?" Gray asked getting closer.

He placed a hand on my knee making me tense up.

"you know if you're going to fuck your way to the top, you should at least do it with someone who can actually get you somewhere in this business." Gray whispered running his hand up to my thigh.

I quickly stood up causing his hand to fall.

"what are you doing?" I said disgusted.

"showing you what you're missing."

I felt my heart beat skip as I headed for the door. Gray was faster though. He grabbed the handle holding it shut so I couldn't get out. Fear ran through me, tears stinging my eyes. He turned me around, pinning me against the door with his body.

"why are you doing this?" I cried.

"he's not right for you, don't you see that I could give you everything?" Gray said.

He roughly grabbed my chin, kissing my lips. I shoved him off as best as I could.

"stop." I growled, as his lips moved to my neck.

I wiggled underneath his grip, as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

"I bet I can make you scream in ways he never could." Gray whispered, his fingers traveling up under my skirt.

"NO." I yelled mustering all my strength to shove him off.

I quickly took my knee ramming it into his balls. He doubled over in pain with a growl. I quickly opened the door, fleeing as fast as I could.

"you're going to regret this." Gray screamed after me.

I ran out the door, tears clouding my vision. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Jensen standing with Cole. His face immediately fell as he saw my teary eyes. I ran in to his arms as the tears flowed freely.

"what happened?" Jensen asked holding me upright to keep from collapsing.

"Gray he... he tried to.... touch me." I managed to get out between sobs.

"I'm going to fucking kill him." Jensen growled.

"no, please don't leave me." I sobbed grasping on to his shirt.

Jensen held me tighter, running a hand through my hair.

"I'm here baby." He said kissing my hair.

"I'm here."

Author Note:

I'm happy to be back! I'm sorry if this chapter was triggering in any way to anyone. If you need to talk I'm always available. I was almost sexually assaulted at a party when I was 15 (I am healed now, though it took a couple years of therapy). It's a scary world we live in ladies. Stay Safe. I love you all!

Part (XI)

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles preference #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles smut #supernatural smut #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn #jensen x y/n #jensen x you

[delirious-donna]

Who? [Kiba Inuzuka]

an: this is a repost of an old story I wrote for @tired-biscuit who we all know is the biggest kiba girlie on the planet. I've reworked it and added an extra 2k (sorry not sorry). Hopefully, it gets a few reads.

pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x female reader

warnings: NSFW, modern AU, friends to lovers trope, characters in late 20s, angst, toxic males (sorry Asuma, Obito, Itachi and Hidan simps!), pussy eating, blowjob after sex, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, biting and marking.

Masterlist

He eyed you with the utmost disdain.

Glowing amber eyes raked from the toes of your scuffed Converse to the brim of the baseball hat that peeked from under your hoodie. A sleek dark eyebrow rose, stern in admonishment of your haggard appearance and you could scream at him for it.

You knew you looked god awful—felt it too—but did he need to sneer quite so fucking openly? Even from the door of the coffee shop, you knew he was going to give you absolute hell, motherfucker couldn't help himself at the best of times. Some best friend he was.

Kiba Inuzuka appeared his usual well-put-together self, the epitome of the aloof bad boy that most girls had that annoying phase of wanting more than reason should allow. Sickening really, but you loved him regardless. Platonically, of course… of course.

He sat with arms crossed at your favoured table in the back corner, his arms tightly crossed over his wide chest and forcing the cotton of the black tee he wore to work to its limit to contain the muscles beneath. You spied his foot stretched out as he practically manspread in his chair, and the ominous tap of his heavy biker boot sounded like the tolls of a church bell as you walked toward him and your doom.

The strands of his chestnut brown hair were tousled in a sexy 'I just got fucked' style that was meant to look like he had rolled right out of whatever bed he had spent the previous night in. However, you knew the truth of it. That particular look took him a straight forty-five minutes to perfect each morning, and you were tempted to ruffle your hand through it just to piss him off more but you didn’t have a death wish–not today.

You always gave him shit for how long it took him to get ready in the mornings, many a time in your college years you had screeched about him being worse than the girls, and you were not wrong. If any of his floozies were to find out about his skincare regime their little airhead brains would likely implode from shock. Perhaps you should never have taught him that he needed to use more than bar soap on his face each morning, for the man owned more luxury beauty products than you did now.

"You look like shit," he offered with a shit-eating grin on his annoyingly handsome and punchable face.

The onset of summer highlighted the fresh dusting of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and his usual sun-kissed skin darkened further from the abundance of scorching sunlight. Kiba was a true summer child, not something you shared with him as you opted to hide from the dangerous rays of the sun until the weather cooled into a more agreeable autumn temperature.

"Well, fuck you too, dickhead!"

You threw yourself haphazardly into the opposite chair, face screwed up from the squeal of metal on the polished floor and pouted.

"Could've at least bought me a drink. Not like you don't know what I like," you moaned sullenly.

Glancing over your shoulder you could see the line was almost at the door, and the thought of standing in it to get your much-needed fix of caffeine sounded like hell on earth. With your best puppy dog eyes, you rounded back to Kiba who was watching you fixedly, jaw set in a firm line.

"Oh no. I already stood in that queue, had to almost sell my soul to Satan himself to get the last apple danish. It's not my fault that you're so hungover that you can't face standing up for longer than a minute," he all but yelled at you.

Kiba was more pissed than you had expected, you must have really caused a scene for him to be this level of mad at you. Caffeine was your biggest weakness, and he knew it. Groaning loudly as you rubbed at your aching temples, you tried to replay the snippets of what you remembered from the previous night.

Anger snapped at your fingers. The burn of absolute fury had you rubbing at your chest in discomfort, and you well remembered the slap you had landed with the stinging pain that still lingered on your palm. A face you would much rather forget loomed into your mind's eye, tall and dark-haired. A cocky lopsided smile on his face as he tried to wave away your well-founded accusations.

Goddamn Obito Uchiha, he was the devil incarnate. Nothing but a cheating scumbag that had promised you the world but in the end gave you only hell and one heck of a headache.

You could recall the heated whispers of your girlfriends, the words that had curdled your stomach and caused your pulse to pound in your ears. Your boyfriend had been seen by multiple reliable sources engaged in acts that should solely be reserved for you. He had fallen back into the arms of his ex, and he didn't even have the decency to end things before he went and stuck his dick in her.

Sure, you could have handled things better, you knew that, but he had it coming to him.

"Kiba," you whined, "I know that I probably didn't do myself any favours last night, but you can't tell me that he wasn't asking for it? The bastard cheated on me! A slap to the face was hardly the end of the world..."

You fell silent whilst his stare iced over instantly.

The warmth of his amber-flecked eyes was gone in a heartbeat, cold fury descended over his face as he leant forward with his arms braced on the table. You couldn't help but admire the black ink that ran from his left elbow and slipped beneath the sleeve of his fitted t-shirt. His bicep flexed as he pointed a thick finger in your face.

"Are you serious? You think I'm pissed at you for throwing a piss poor slap at that self-centred prick?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Be quiet," he added as your mouth popped open to shoot back your reply.

"Course he deserved it, and the rest of what he got..."

You frowned at the ominous statement in confusion, suddenly eyeing his hands intently, and as you had suspected, the knuckles were raw and split open in places. That only ever happened when… Icy dread whispered down your spine at the unwelcome thought.

"What I am downright furious about is the scene you made after that slap. Don't you remember shouting your damn head off, screeching like a fucking banshee for 'that bitch' as you called her? Must have slipped your mind that you stormed right across the bar, literally pushing over your friends that just wanted to help and then threw up all over the pinball machine, yeah?"

You blanched, literally feeling the colour drain from your face as you did indeed recall flashes of what he spat at you so venomously. All you wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, instead, you raised your hands to cover your face, or at least, you tried.

A rough hand wrapped around your wrist and forcefully removed it from your mortified face.

"Uh-uh, I got more to say and you are gonna listen, so perk those little ears up mama. I could forgive you yelling like a lunatic and spewing your load, god knows I'm more than aware you're such a damn lightweight. What I cannot forgive is you running out the door and going fuck knows where!"

He was getting louder and you cringed.

It felt like a thousand eyes were on the pair of you, and it made the introvert in you crumble like a sandcastle being overwhelmed by the ocean. You had wondered why you'd awoken in your childhood bedroom, why the window was wide open and your dad was holding a baseball bat over his head as you emerged from the cocoon of bedsheets. Old habits die hard and sneaking in and out of your bedroom window proved to be one of them even though you had long moved out of your parents’ home.

Your mouth was drier than a desert, tongue heavy in your mouth as Kiba finished his tirade. He huffed through his nose like an angry bull, and with only the jut of his jaw, he silently demanded a response. The problem was, you didn't know what to say, surely you were out of excuses for the poor choices you had made. It seemed like this was a cycle you were meant to repeat from now until the end of time.

Step One – find a new boyfriend who would quickly become your obsession.

Step Two – Kiba would either know them already or meet them only to immediately disapprove and ask you to end things. Ask was putting it mildly too.

Step Three – you and he would argue like squabbling schoolchildren until one of you stormed out, resulting in a period of silence.

Step Four – said boyfriend would reveal his true colours in the most atrocious of ways and annoyingly prove Kiba right time and again.

Step Five – Kiba picked up the broken pieces of your heart and soul, glueing them back together with an ever-patient hand. Although he never failed to tell you, ‘I told you so.’

Repeat.

Shame burned in your chest, the feeling filled you from head to toe and it was enough to intensify the headache that crested through your brain like waves on a turbulent sea. All this and you had no damn coffee to at least take the very edge off your misery.

What could you say?

You had acted like a selfish brat with those actions, your friend had every right to be angry at you and it was only then you noticed the dark shadows that lingered beneath Kiba's eyes. You grabbed his hand and held it tightly in your own when he tried to withdraw, pulling it toward you.

"Please don't tell me you've been up all night cause of me?"

He shrugged and again tried to pull his hand free, but he didn't truly fight you. It was evident to both of you that if he wanted to retrieve his hand, he would be able to do so with ease. He grunted in reply and looked pointedly over your shoulder.

Fuck!

"I'm sorry," you whispered with a slight hiccup, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to spill upon the bougie-looking rustic tabletop. A fingertip traced a gnarled knot, it grounded you and kept you from completely losing it.

"Kiba, please. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I know I've said that before but I mean it, I do, I promise. No more idiots and no more making an absolute fool of myself."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

His tone had returned to a more amicable level, with a smirk unfolding on his lips and you knew that the worst of the storm was over.

Worry had been at the core of his fury, not knowing where you were until you had texted him upon waking at your parent’s house. Frantic fingers flew across the keys whilst listening to your dad's yells of indignation about how you should have used the damn front door instead of climbing in through your old bedroom window.

This really was the straw to break the camel's back.

It was exhausting, the emotional toll enough to have you curled into a tight ball on most nights. True that the highs were intoxicatingly good, but the lows were soul-suckingly abysmal. It was time that you stopped endlessly chasing around after men who were never worth your time and effort. Maybe if you stopped searching, the right man would find you instead.

"I'm done, I promise," you reiterated with a steely determination in your eye.

Kiba tipped back in his chair, assessing your words and finding them to be genuine. His normal goofy smile manifested and it was like the first ray of sunshine you had seen in weeks. He truly was the best friend you could ever ask for, and when he stood with a sigh, you realised you couldn't love him anymore.

"Caramel macchiato?"

Or could you?

–

Kiba had known it wouldn't last, it never did, so why would this time be any different?

The trouble was that he adored you from the tip of your sharp tongue right down to your uncoordinated feet that stumbled and fumbled no matter how hard you tried to keep your balance. The pair of you had been friends since your schooldays and you were both prominent figures within your wider social group. What he didn't like about you, and was not quiet about, was your god-awful taste in men.

You couldn't help it, you were downright adorable so of course, men were always gonna be drawn to you, but did you have to pick the worst scumbags imaginable? He had never believed that one person could get it wrong over and over without at least learning some kind of lesson. It must be some kind of imbalance in your brain and it was astonishing, to say the least.

Over the years you had gone through phases, such as the bad boy stage where you swore blind that you could reform idiotic womanizing players like Asuma Sarutobi. Everyone and their grandmother knew that Asuma could not keep his eyes, and hands, off the ladies. It was never going to matter how many times in a day you fucked him, he was destined to stray and stray he did.

Kiba was there to pick up the pieces, to reassure you that it was most definitely his loss, and no, he didn't think you needed to lose any fucking weight! Why would you even think that? He didn’t always understand women and the fascination with weight was his biggest bugbear. 

Then there was the sophiscated phase which he referred to as the smugly quiet phase. Itachi Uchiha was only a few years older than you but damn did he act like he was a motherfucking elder. The condescending smiles, the little tuts and eye rolls at what he deemed to be childish acts and that low almost monotonous tone that spoke volumes about his feelings, or lack thereof.

Again, Kiba had warned you off but you chose to ignore him as usual.

Instead, he waited until Itachi sat you down and told you abruptly that you were too immature for him, effectively breaking your heart in all the time it took him to blink those feminine-looking long dark eyelashes of his. Kiba was there for you to cry upon his shoulder, to wipe your snotty nose and assure you that you were not immature, that dude was just an old ass fuddy-duddy.

Obito had simply been the latest in a long line of utter morons, and part of him had desperately hoped you would keep your word this time. The one thing he was glad about was that you had never dated within your friendship circle, though it hadn't stopped some of the guys from trying.

You would never know about the times he had forcibly taken aside the likes of Naruto and Shikamaru, the muttered threats of mortal wounds and outright death if they so much as dared to touch you. Kiba was always met with nervous chuckles, reassuring pats on the shoulder and hastily sworn oaths that they would keep their distance. Shikamaru had even looked downright pleased with himself, as if he knew something that Kiba didn’t and that encounter had lingered with him for a long while.

It had been a good month since you swore 'til you were blue in the face that you were done chasing men, a record for you but it had all come tumbling down when Hidan entered the fray.

Hidan–a dude who swore he had no last name. Seriously, who did he think he was, the goddamn pope? Perhaps he should have taken that final step much like Prince had done and changed his name into a symbol, it certainly wouldn't have made him any more pretentious.

The man clearly thought he was the next messiah and Kiba had taken an instant dislike to him. This time it was different and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. Worry gnawed at him, the sense that his guy was more than capable of drawing you into things that could endanger you. The saying goes that you should listen to your gut and Kiba took that very literally. His every instinct screamed of danger and put him on high alert for trouble.

Weeks had passed since you two first started dating and although he desperately wanted to teach you a lesson by giving you the usual silent treatment until you snapped, he refrained. Something stopped him, a niggling doubt that poked him at the most random of times. He wasn’t about to let something befall you on his watch, he’d never forgive himself if it did.

Instead, he watched much like a predator would, assessed this cocky-ass male and learned his weaknesses. Kiba knew Hidan hated to be called out on things, his word was law in his mind and that just grated on the Inuzuka to the worst possible level.

He remembered well the night that Hidan had cornered him as he left the bar restroom, his fist thundering into the wall next to his head in an attempt to intimidate him. It didn't take much for Kiba to snap, yet he managed to hold on to his composure this time. Fought to retain his sanity tooth and nail because he would not play into Hidan's hands, for this was a game to him.

"You wanna fuck her, dontcha?"

"Killing you to know that it's my dick that she sits on each and every chance she gets, huh? Cock hungry little slut that she is."

The inflammatory words had been like grenades exploding behind his eyes, what an utter cunt he was for speaking about you in such a derogatory manner. Kiba had stuffed his white-knuckled fists deep into his pockets, biting his tongue and pushing away from the sneering male without further incident.

In hindsight he was shocked that he had managed to keep it together and not outright punched the fucker–he wanted to–but then again so had Hidan. It was a part of his plan to isolate you, to keep you from your friends and family so that he could steal all your time and attention. He was the definition of a toxic male.

Manipulative fucker!

The Inuzuka drained his beer and let his head fall back against the couch cushions. He was at his wit's end, there was no plan to swirl inside his rampant brain that seemed likely to work.

How long had he ignored his feelings for you?

Too long was the answer. He doubted you were ever going fall into his arms as he wished, but he satisfied himself with being your ever-constant rock. If he could not have you, he would make damn sure that whoever was lucky enough to steal your heart treated you like a princess.

It hurt his heart, but it was better than the emptiness that came with the alternative.

Tired eyes looked towards his phone that was buzzing incessantly on the couch beside him, he palmed the device and looked at the screen to find your name illuminated like a beacon in the darkness of his lounge. He schooled his features although he knew you could not see him and answered the call.

"What's up?"

–

You were a dumbass.

There was no other way to describe how dense you were when it came to your love life. You had to wonder if you had a sign above your head that attracted the absolute worst of mankind to swarm you like insects. Was there something wrong with you? Were you actually a bad person who didn't deserve to be loved?

You made your way to the apartment you knew as intimately as your own.

Feet carrying you ever forward, speeding you towards comfort in the arms of Kiba. He would make it all better, wouldn't he?

For once, you didn't know if he could. There were only so many times you could be knocked down before you could no longer get back up and it was getting harder and harder to find your feet.

Tears threatened to fall but you refused. Curling your hands into tight fists until your nails sank into the flesh, close to puncturing the skin but not quite. It grounded you and kept the tears at bay. How long it would last, you weren't sure.

The ache in your chest eased as Kiba answered the door with worry prominent on his features. Pinched brow and pristine white teeth gnawing his lower lip in earnest. Even before you could step inside, he was reaching for you, dragging you into his strong embrace and wrapping you in his essence.

You sank into him willingly, inhaling his musky spice-infused scent until you were filled with it. It felt like stepping into a perfectly hot bath after a long exhausting day, the tension from your muscles draining away whilst you sagged against the chest that rose and fell in harmony with your own. Kiba wrapped one arm wrapped around your lower back, a thumb rubbing against you in soothing motions whilst the other cradled your head and let you settle into his broad shoulder.

Why couldn't all the men in your life be like this?

Kiba accepted you for who you were and had no interest in changing you into something that would better suit him. His soul was filled with warm light, you saw it through the amber flecks in his eyes, the adorable dimple appearing on his right cheek when he smiled broadly and through his caring actions.

"Tell me everything babe," he cooed softly into your mussed hair, ruffling the strands with his breath.

Where to begin?!

You spent the next hour filling in your longtime friend with every dreaded detail from this afternoon, sipping cautiously on a beer that he offered you once seated on his squishy leather couch. The last thing you wanted to do was succumb to alcohol, but one would settle your nerves you reasoned.

"I knew that guy was a motherfucker," Kiba hollered from the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes at the sheer joy that laced his gravelly tone, you turned to find him bent over searching the fridge aimlessly. His tight butt swayed in the hold of his black jeans, it was such a nice backside and if you were in a better mood you might have tiptoed closer to give it a good hard smack. He’d deserve it.

"Mr Kiba 'I knew he was a motherfucker' Inuzuka. Can't you ever give me a break?"

It hadn't bothered you this much when he first said it, but the more you repeated the words, the more fury infused your veins. It hit you like a tidal wave, turning you from weepy sadness to burning anger in less than a minute.

You popped to your feet, pacing back and forth whilst your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. Wary amber eyes followed your movements, closing the fridge door with a hard thud that made the magnets rattle. Magnets you had gifted that asshole. The grim set of his jaw was back, irritation so quick to line his features until you were both scowling at one another.

"The fuck? Why have you always got to be so fucking high and mighty? You ain't perfect either, you know!" You were yelling now, raw emotion burning your throat and turning your body into a literal inferno.

"High and mighty? You gotta be joking me. Watch your damn mouth, my patience will only remain for so long. I suggest you calm the fuck down and sit down as well!"

He was making it worse, where was his usual compassion when you stormed like this?

"Or what Kiba? You gonna chuck me out?" You snorted through your nose and missed the flash of pure rage that flitted through his blown-wide pupils.

All six foot two of him towered above you, so close you could feel the heat roiling off his body and licking at your flesh. The back of your legs caught the edge of the glass coffee table and he was grabbing at your upper arms in an instant.

You gasped when his fingers dug into the meat of your arms until you almost yelped out for him to stop. Head tipped back and heart thundering from an evil cocktail of anger and bitterness, you straight up growled at him like a dog ready to lunge and attack.

"When are you going to open your fucking eyes?" he whispered, low and so very dangerous that the hairs on the nape of your neck prickled to attention.

Too wrapped in your own negative emotions, you failed to comprehend his words fully. Oblivious to the storm of desire that was rapidly rising to the surface in the male fixing you in place. You ignored his words and spat more venom at him in an attempt to get him to release you.

"When was the last time you even got laid Kiba? Haven't seen any of your airheads flouncing about in forever. They made me sick to my stomach with their simpering eyes out on stalks, drooling over you like you were some kind of fucking god."

He let go in a moment of startled surprise as your words found their mark, and you stormed towards the door only to have your wrist captured in a rough hand. Kiba pulled you back to him, the tug was so forceful that your chest bumped into his and your free hand flew to the wall of steel that was his chest in an attempt to balance yourself.

"Jealous?" he seethed, lowering his face until you were practically nose to nose

Had you been in your right mind, you might have taken a moment to process that incredibly loaded question and see it for what it actually was. Instead, your primal instincts found themselves firmly in the driving seat as a war cry pounded in your ears and a tightness grew heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You snatched your hand back and grabbed two fistfuls of his stupid tousled chestnut hair, pressing yourself onto your tiptoes to reach his wickedly curled lips.

This was no soft kiss, it was cruel and punishing.

Lips met, teeth gnashed and snarls sounded from both of your throats as Kiba reacted in kind. His hands were not gentle as he cupped your face, one hand stealing into your hair and wrapping it around his fist. He pulled, forcing your throat to strain taut and ripping your mouth away from his with a hiss.

White-hot fury veiled your vision in red. His sharp almost fang-like incisors sank into your vulnerable neck, harsh and selfish as he marked you for his own. Greedy lips followed the exquisite sting of pain, sucking at the skin indented by his teeth until the entire area would be bruised and tender to the touch when your sanity returned.

You didn't know what made you say it, the words were out of your mouth before you took note of them.

"Seems like you've been the jealous one.” Kiba froze against your frantic pulse point.

His eyes were positively feral, the pupils almost entirely swallowing his normally warm amber irises. Cheeks dabbled in rough whiskers from the late hour and the tendon from neck to collarbone straining from exertion. Kiba levelled you with a dangerous stare and you couldn't help but look away to admire his forearms instead of succumbing to his piercing gaze. The sleeves of his open shirt rolled to the elbows–a look that had you weak at the knees at the best of times–and the strength in those corded muscles was obvious to your appreciative eye.

"That’s right, m’gonna make you forget about those stupid assholes that didn't know what a treasure they had. Their loss is my gain. If you want this," he pointed to himself to emphasise the point, "if you want me, then come get it."

Without a backwards glance, he stormed to the island in his kitchen and left you there… alone and bereft of his overwhelming heat. Kiba stood with his lower back resting against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded as he watched you. His muscled chest heaved with every laboured breath, cheeks ruddy from the kiss you’d shared and there was a more than subtle bulge on the front of his jeans.

Did you want him, your best friend Kiba?

Hell yeah, you did!

Annoyed by your own oblivious stupidity, the puzzle pieces clicked together in your head. Kiba was downright sexy, his physique godly and a face that was both rugged and angelic depending on his mood. He was funny, a total goofball who made it his mission to keep you laughing until you were clutching your stomach and begging for mercy. A social butterfly who ensured he gave his friends equal attention, he knew every birthday and often was the ringleader of group outings and meetups.

He was your Kiba.

The person you relied upon most in the world, your constant and when you tried to imagine a world without him, it stole your breath until you were crippled by the agony. Had you been jealous of his idiotic little girlfriends? Yes, you always wanted to be the centre of his universe and they distracted from that. You had tried to mask it as a dislike for his taste in women but most of his exes had been perfectly nice if you had given them the time of day to get to know.

It was clear, that you wanted him.

You ran.

Four long strides and you threw yourself into his quickly outstretched arms. He caught you –of course, he did –bearing your weight with practised ease as you wrapped around him like climbing ivy. Hands fisting into the t-shirt that lay beneath his shirt as you found his mouth once more, sought to reclaim it and make your intentions crystal fucking clear.

This time the kiss was more tender, yet the passion was still as ardent and heady. His wide hands roamed your hips until he was kneading the meat of your ass through your pants and making your lower half grind against him in sinful bliss. The zipper of his jeans pressed against your centre through the layers of clothes and you moaned openly into his mouth.

Kiba was famished, he swallowed your lewd noises and was quick to incite more as he turned to perch you atop the counter. His hips rolled into you, languid but forceful whilst he explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue rolled over his in an erotic dance that had no end in sight. If not for your necessity to breathe, there would be no parting you and only the shared oxygen in the space created by two friends that finally breached a line that had been long held and now threatened to either tie them together or pull them apart.

You tugged expectantly at his clothes, desperate to strip him to your gaze and finally, he relented. Kiba pulled back long enough to tug off his shirt and tee, discarding them haphazardly. His warm breath fanned your cheek, stuttering when your cool fingers stroked and detailed the definition of his torso.

"Eager little thing," he growled. The smile he sported only served to highlight the ego that was often to focus of your teasing. Yet, this time no humourous jabs came to mind. For once you were glad of his self-confidence and eagerness to move things along.

He divested you of your oversized hoodie, thankful you had taken the time to put on a nice bra beneath it despite the mess you had been in earlier. His groan was heaven to your ears and when he dove to kiss you through the sheer material of your bralette you thought you had died right there and then.

Saliva dampened the already thin fabric, those dangerous wolfish teeth nipping at your pebbled buds. With your head tossed back, he used that wicked mouth of his on your breasts and you were unprepared for the piercing rip that flooded the hushed space. Kiba had torn clean through the garment, the halves falling down your arms to lay destroyed on the floor.

"Kiba!" you half yelled, half squeaked as he took that exact moment to suckle your nipple between his plush lips. Your belly quivered, the pulling sensation more intoxicating than the most potent alcohol and the feeling echoed far more intensely between your trembling thighs. Your fingers carded through his lush hair, nails scraping against his scalp and smiling indulgently at the rumble deep in his throat.

"I'll buy you more, promise baby. Lay back, need to get you naked," he said sounding entirely as drunk as you felt.

For once you were eager to follow his instruction, a novelty for Kiba who merely watched with a knowing look that promised he would deliver of your wildest fantasies if you’d just fucking listen to him, at long last. His eager fingers hooked into the waistband of your leggings and were quickly dragged down your supple legs. Slowly, he eased his calloused fingers back up your bare legs, stopping to toy with the back of your knees and listen to the subtle gasp caught tight in your throat.

Funny how you had thought he would be rough and impatient, the deed almost over with and the finish line hurtled towards at inhumane speed when here he was taking his sweet time. It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to feel the searing heat that was radiating from between your thighs, to dip his fingertips against your panties and know how drenched they already were from the mere prospect of being with him.

As if sensing your thought process, Kiba finally parted thighs whilst you rested backwards on your elbows. A low appreciative hum caught your ear and you shifted your focus to the tight grip he had on his bottom lip, teeth sinking deep and the wide flare of his nostrils like he was scenting you as an animal would do. He planted your feet and pushed your knees to the sides until you were splayed out like a cat in heat. It was vulnerable and so exhilarating you couldn't help but wriggle.

His eyes were glazed over when he, at last, moved to touch your panties, zeroing in on the obvious damp patch and letting his head roll along his neck for a second as a visible shiver passed up the length of his spine. You’d swear he appeared like those cartoon characters that have zapped with electricity, near every hair on his body rippling from the sensation.

"Have to taste you, sweetheart. My pretty fuckin’ girl."

A chaste kiss fell to your lips before he began a slow tortured path down your body, stopping here and there as he learned the spots that made you tremble and shake, noting carefully when you would whine and try to cling to him. Smug smiles and smears of his saliva were painted upon your heated skin, and he let loose a triumphant bark of laughter when you whimpered your impatience.

"Please," you mewled, a hand pressing atop his head to hurry his descent. Forward was not something you were familiar with, shyness always overtaking your urge to express your wants, but with Kiba, you knew there was no need for any such concerns.

"Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll deliver."

You could cry at the bubble of pressure that was desperate for release, sitting just below the surface, if he would just touch you.

"Wan’ you to fuck me with your mouth, need it so bad Kiba! Please–"

The last syllable had barely left your mouth before he was diving for your centre, underwear pressed aside as he nudged your clit with his nose and inhaled deeply. One roughened pad explored your slick folds, collecting the nectar and pressing it into his mouth.

His sigh was purely reverential and he settled down to devour you like a starving man sat before his first meal in weeks. It was all too much, the immediate stimulation intense enough to have your toes curling where they now rested down his broad back.

Kiba laid languid swipes of his molten tongue along your slit, alternating between flickering motions against your engorged pearl and slow circular patterns around your sopping hole. The walls of your cunt fluttered, desperate to be filled and clench around something–anything–and when his finger slipped easily inside you bucked wildly.

“Shh, keep still. Lemme hear your pretty voice but gotta hold still, yeah?” He encouraged, mouth only moving far enough way for you to hear his heated request.

It took mere minutes for you to come apart on his mouth, his digit sucked deep as he stroked your slick, spongy walls and suckled at your clit to almost pain. Your legs were limp from the unrelenting waves of euphoria that raced throughout your body and if not for the grounding palm caressing your thigh then you might have passed out there and then when white sparks shot straight through your vision.

Kiba didn’t spill a single drop of your nectar, the wet insistent muscle rolling into your cunt over and over to simply dig more of the delicious juices from your quivering body before he stood with the lower half of his face glistening in your essence. It felt… empowering. The intense lust that blazed in his eyes, a lust that was for you and no one else. Fuck. You loved him. Had for a long time. Why had you taken so long to see it for what it really was?

It wasn’t the time to get stuck in your head like this, there would be moments for these thoughts and what lay beyond but right now, you weren’t entirely satisfied and you wouldn’t be until you had milked the man looming over you for every drop he could deliver.

With renewed vigour and determination, you propped yourself on your elbows and then lunged forward towards the buckle of his belt. You’d never worked so deftly as you worked to unbuckle him, moaning at the loud metal clattering loose. Buttons worked free and zipper pulled down, the waistband of his underwear came into sight and your fingers curled around that final barrier and released with him an audible gasp mingled with his sigh of relief.

You had known he was going to be well endowed, could feel it from the press of his body only earlier, but it was still a shock to see him in all his glory, and what a glory it was. His length was impressive, but it was his girth that was the true beauty–if you could even call such a monster a beauty. Kiba's cock could barely support its own weight, the angry length tipped to a deep purple with precum leaking from the slit under your scrutiny.

It looked enormous in your petite hand, managing to encircle the shaft but only just did your fingertips meet. You stroked his velvety soft skin, paying attention to the stark veins that stood to attention and how Kiba reacted when you traced over the most prominent with a salacious smile. You scooted towards the edge of the counter, eyes locked with him with every deliberate move you made.

The head kissed against your glistening folds and you teased both of you by running the blunt tip along your slit until it bumped against your clitoral hood. His fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you feared he would crumble the marble under his strong hands if he wasn't careful. You notched him at your slowly pulsing entrance, and on a breathy keening noise, you pleaded. 

"Fuck me Kiba."

You knew that he had snapped when an animalistic noise roared from his throat and the death grip moved from the counter to your hips as he pushed into your cunt. Kiba eagerly watched your walls suck him in, utterly drunk on the silken feel of you in much the same way that you were drunk on him. Every drag of his shaft rubbed delicious friction into your most intimate areas with a precision he shouldn’t yet possess. He was made for you and you were made to take him.

There would be a time for slower moments and tender loving making, for you were sure that Kiba was not going to escape from you, not now. He was yours, and you his. This alone had you urging him on, driving that feral side of him to act and do it hard and fast with nips at his lips and nails clawing down his back. 

His hips pistoned like a well-oiled machine, and sweat clung to his forehead as he set a pace that saw him pounding into your pussy. A relentless rhythm that matched the pound of your heart, clammy skin on skin and kisses that acted better than any drugs ever could.

"This what you wan’? Hungry for my cock, huh?"

His words were staccato with every thrust that he delivered, your body jerking with the wild and powerful movements. Your head fell back against the counter as moan after decadent moan left your throat. Kiba's tight grip moved to your waist and he began to pull you onto his length, your back sliding against the marble top making your tits bounce and your ass slap against his pelvis. Every drag of his shaft against your walls made you keen for him, full to capacity but craving more nevertheless. He was using you like his own personal fucktoy and you were creaming around him at that knowledge, the lewd squelches of your bodies joined in this way growing louder and louder.

"Tell me. Need to hear you say it, kitten."

"Oh… fu-fuck! Need your dick, feel so good–ah!" You screamed when Kiba leaned over you and altered the angle of how he was driving into you. His mouth sucked possessive marks onto the sides of your breasts as you used the last of your hastily retreating sanity to again fist his hair and force him even closer to you.

"Tell me I'm better than those other motherfuckers. No one can fuck you like this, nobody else is worthy of this beautiful pussy," he growled, breaking from your hold to allow him to press his thumb against your clit and making you jerk at the sudden unsuspecting touch.

"Kiba–best. Gonna, oh god–m’so close. No one but you."

Your brain was a puddle, the ecstasy too much for full coherent thoughts as you felt the gush hit against his groin. You soaked him in your juices, the wet noises crescendoing whilst stars winked into your vision.

"Such a good fuckin’ girl, oh shit. What a beautiful mess you've made on me," he cooed in praise, slowing his pace but never stopping. He had to be close; your walls desperately trying to milk him, to force his release in kind.

Slowly, you returned to the earth, oversensitive from each measured stroke that he delivered until he pulled from you and wiped the sweat from his brow. He fisted his shaft as you watched, tears springing to your eyes at being denied his release.

"Wanna come down your throat, think you can manage?" he asked, his eyes burning into yours as he pumped himself.

Your thighs were shaky, the skin slick with the spill of your arousal but you managed not to fall to the floor. Kiba steadied you with his free hand, groaning in his throat as you knelt before him. His head fell back when you parted your lips and accepted him into your wet mouth.

The taste of his essence mingled with your own, sweet and bitter but definitely not unpleasant. You had never done this before and it felt so wicked as you watched Kiba come apart above you. He could barely maintain his eye contact with you, heat surging to his cheeks and his hands cradling your head in gentle reverence.

His hips jerked, your fingers sinking into his ass that flexed beneath your touch as he kissed against your throat. The muscles constricted and he faltered. "Oh fuck, so close sweetheart."

Your teeth unsheathed carefully, tongue running the length of the litany of veins that ran his shaft and teeth grazing his sensitive flesh until his fingers seized and you felt the hot spurts of his release. It poured down your throat until you pulled back, the rest pooling on your pink tongue.

Kiba panted and whined, losing himself in the moment and the feel of your scorching mouth, chest heaving with each laboured inhale. You showed him the milky seed that coated your tongue, watching his eyes roll to the back of his skull the second after you swallowed audibly and opened up to show your now empty mouth.

The seconds ticked by and neither of you moved as your breathing slowly returned to normal. How gorgeous he looked to you, spent and blushing. The massive frame of his body–Kiba’s body–completely undone by your actions and your body.

"That's one way to get over Hidan," he groused, trying to turn from you.

You were not going to allow him to step away from this, two hearts were on the line and you refused to see him in pain. You stood abruptly, possibly a mistake given how your thighs quaked but not giving a shit at the moment. You pulled him back to you, arms resting over his wide shoulders and placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Pouring every bit of love and desire into your expression, you fixed him with a sincere smile and watched his eyes widen and soften, the creases smoothing out to reveal his true self, the one you were intimately familiar with.

"Who?"

#delirious writes #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #kiba smut #kiba angst #kiba x you #kiba

[abiggerphrooblem]

One Time Jonathan Was Not a Gentleman

:

CW: public sex, explicit, E rated smut

The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched out before their balcony like a glittering sapphire. Which was exactly how the ad for the hotel described it, but Jonathan had to admit its accuracy even if it was a cliche. Civilian kept exclaiming how they had never seen such a shade of blue before. They spent every morning on the covered balcony, sipping tea and watching the morning bustle on the streets below. And Jonathan sat with them and admired the way they admired the view. 

Having grown up in some one-stop-light town and then never leaving the city they worked in after graduation, Civilian took in the world with endless child-like wonder and fascination. Jonathan spent his time torn between wanting Civilian to savor each place they visited and dragging them off to somewhere new just to see that wide eyed gaze again. 

So far they had been in Positano, Italy for almost two weeks now and Civilian showed no signs of feeling tired of the sun and good food and brightly colored houses. Their skin had taken on a bronze glow, freckles popping out like spring daisies across their cheeks and forehead. Freedom suited them, their happiness almost like a literal glow about them.

Right now they leaned their forearms against the small iron railing of their porch, a light breeze playing with their hair, as they watched tourists bustle to the beach a few blocks away. 

A surge of desire burned through him as sharp and sudden as a lightning strike. He always wanted Civilian, always daydreamed while they meandered to chintzy tourist destinations, how he would have them when they returned to their hotel. 

He’s checked a lot of his old fantasies off the list by now: he’s fucked them in the shower of a private onsen, against the side of a cliff in the Swiss Alps, at them out in the bathroom of the Opera Bastille, and, of course, in the elevator of a hotel in the dead of night. 

But watching them watch other people gave him something new to think about and he approached them from behind, placing his hands on either side of theirs on the railing, trapping them in. 

“Good morning,” they said, leaning back against him. 

“Good morning,” he murmured in their ear, nose buried in their soft hair. The smell of their conditioner intoxicated him. 

He traced the shell of their ear with the tip of his tongue before ducking down and tugging their earlobe gently between his teeth. A hitched gasp escaped Civilian.

“You seem h-happy this morning,” they said, stuttering when Jonathan moved down to their neck. 

He hummed noncommittally against the delicate skin over their pulse, before sucking down, relishing in how Civilian jerked and twitched against him.  God, if he knew how sensitive their neck back when he was blackmailing them, he might have broken his gentleman streak. How could anyone resist the delicious half bitten moans and stuttering gasps they emitted when Johnathan so much as ghosted his breath over their throat?

“So I was--  thinking about going b-back to that bakery we found a - a  couple days ago and --”

Civilian valiantly tried to hold a conversation as Jonathan liked and nibbled and kissed the entire left side of their neck but it soon devolved into those sweet little moans that left him hard and aching in his sleep pants. One of his hands drifted away from the railing to caress their side with the pads of his fingers, slipping under their shirt to trace patterns on their stomach. 

Their hands went white knuckled around the railing and Jonathan didn’t need to see them to know they were biting down hard on their lower lip to keep quiet. 

“We should head back in-inside,” they groaned as his hand brushed ever so slightly over their nipple. 

“No,” he murmured. “I want you right here.”

Civilian squirmed against him but he kept his grip firm on their waist and on the railing. “There are people here -- oh fuck.”

Jonathan took a peaked nipple and rolled it between his finger and thumb. At the same time he switched over to the unabused side of their neck and latched a sucking kiss against the juncture of their shoulder and neck. 

“Please,” they whispered. “Take me to the bed -- or the shower or the f-floor, I don’t even c-care.”

“No,” he said again. “I’m going to fuck you right here or I’m not fucking you at all. Which will it be, Civilian?”

This time he slipped his other hand into their pajama pants, sliding past their underwear to trace the seam of their thigh.

“Someone is going to see,” they hissed, a flush working past the collar of their oversized shirt. 

“No they won’t.” He rubs lazy circles into the delicate skin of their inner thigh. “I will make them look away. All you have to do is be quiet. Can you do that, Civilian?”

He let his finger drift over their hole, relishing the shudder that rippled through them. 

“I don’t know,” they admitted, sounding wrecked already. 

“Oh dear. I guess I’ll have to help you.”

He released his grip on their side and covered their mouth with his hand just as he palmed their sex in his hand. Immediately a moan spilled out, caught and muffled by his hand. He slipped two fingers and his thumb inside and told them to suck. 

They obeyed without question, a frisson of tension shivering through them like  a pavlovian response. 

Below them, tourists and locals alike mingled on the street below, checking into the hotel or meandering to the shopping center down the block. He kept their focus ahead and down, making sure none of their gazes ever tempted up. Though secretly he didn’t mind the thought of people seeing him bring keening pleasure to Civilian. Only their delicate sensibilities curbed his exhibition streak. 

When he had worked Civilian  until they were begging, tears glittering on their eyelashes, his fingers soaked with their arousal, then he finally shoved both their pants down with a mental twitch of his powers and worked his cock inside them. 

A whole body shudder shook through Civilian at the intrusion, their mouth wide open in a soundless gasp. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he hissed in their ear. 

They could only whimper in response. Jonathan took them with slow, steady strokes, keeping their pleasure building with his hand. They clenched tight as a fist around him and the thrill of knowing only his power kept them both safe from notice fueled his own pleasure like a water on a gas fire. He wasn’t going to last long and neither was Civilian from the way they shook and moaned against him. 

He sped up, grinding hard and deep against the soft skin of Civilian’s lower back, until he came with a deep groan, sinking his teeth into their shoulder. 

Holy fuck did that feel good. 

Civilian whimpered and wriggled against his softening cock. At least three times he had stopped their orgasm from crashing over them with his own power, wanting to keep them panting and desperate. 

“Jonathan,” they whispered shakily. “Please.���

“I don’t know Civilian,” he murmured, nosing against their ear. “There are people down there. Anyone could see you come for me in a shuddering wreck. You sure you want to risk it?”

They twitched and bucked their hips up against his hand in a desperate attempt for friction. 

“Jonathan please.” There was no sweeter sound than Civilian begging. “People can l-look. I don’t care. Please let me come, please.”

They sounded on the verge of tears and Jonathan couldn’t resist their begging for long. Between his powers and a few clever strokes of his fingers, he brought Civilian to a starburst of an orgasm, freezing their scream of pleasure in their throat to keep the secrecy. 

Civilian slumped back against him, legs twitching with little aftershocks. Their chest heaved against the soothing strokes of his hands.

And below, everyone continued on their errands, none the wiser. 

#smut #villain x civilian #mutually assured destruction #hero x villain

[xmortuarykittyx]

Ever Unlocked

Part 8: Birthdays Are Suppose to Be Fun, Right?

Part 7: Birthdays and… Balloons?

pairings: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

warnings: small acts of violence, talks of children, Leon just grabbing Reader uncomfortably, we’re getting closer to more sprouting from Leon and Reader but we’re still in that slow burn stage i swear i have this planned out and the smut and crime are coming! 🫶🏻

Maybe, it just wasn't for her, the screaming, the crying. She could barely hear herself think over the sound of the many children who ran around the beautiful back yard, one nearly slipping on the wet pavement and falling into the pool. "Be careful there.", Leon lifted the boy's hand, keeping him steady. His eyes soft as he looked down at the young boy, maybe four or five years of age. The boy looked up at Leon, honey brown eyes shining in the sun as he smiled, freckles scrunching from the smile on his lips. "Yes, sir!", his smaller, more innocent and sweet voice called up to the older man. A chuckle met her ears as she turned to get a better look at Leon, who was watching the boy run off with his friends, she could feel his arm tight around her waist. He was side hugging her close to him, keeping a soft grip on her black sundress. She had balloons tied to the small gift bag that lay in her palm.

"You were the one who said kids liked balloons.", Leon's finger pointed towards her, his lips pressed together with a soft head shake. Her eyes shot up to him, her lips curling down as they stood in the third store, searching desperately for someone who would blow up balloons for them. "I didn't realize how many people quit filling up balloons.", the words had an air of annoyance.

"Aren't they just so cute at that age?", she didn't miss the awe in his voice, the softness he used towards the child. She gave a hum of acknowledgment, nodding as her eyes followed the children that squealed once more. Her eyes narrowed in a wince as she heard another scream in excitement; if she was honest, no, she didn't find them cute, at any age. Children just weren't her thing, she wanted to keep her avoidance of children well hidden. She was at a birthday party for a child after all, her and Leon had stopped and gotten little Amya a gift, some candy and a necklace, followed by some stuffed animal that Marvin said she had been eyeing since last week.

  She hummed once more, eyes glowing slightly in the golden sun, her lips pulled back in a forced smile. "Y-yeah, so cute.", she spoke softly, despite the otherwise awkward look laced between the false agreement. Rays of sunlight bounced from the water, the pool filled with adults and children alike. The weather had kept Raccoon City in its good graces, even after the onslaught of perpetual rain that has barely soaked into the soil. Meteorologists called for slight showers today, she hoped the rain would stay at bay. Giving the town at least one day to settle before the next round of storms blew in over the horizon.

"Leon, glad you could make it man!", Marvin's voice broke her sight from the fellow partiers. "Hey! Of course, i wouldn't have missed it.", Leon's demeanor never changed from that soft act. The one he put on to fit in, watching kids playing with their respective parents. Dads with kids hanging off their arms as they talk to their wives, others holding their kids on their shoulders in the pool. There was about 15 officers, then their families. She hadn't figured there would be so many people, her hand curling slightly more into Leon's than it had been the few minutes they'd been here. "Amya and Dina are excited to meet you.", Marvin's eyes landed on her, causing her to shift closer to Leon.

She was shy, the reason Leon was holding her hand so closely. He didn't want her to feel singled out, she wasn't the wife of an officer nor was she an officer herself. She felt like she stuck out and, now, she slightly regretted the decision to join him. Her toe digging into the ground as she met Marvin's chocolate eyes. "I'm excited to meet them.", she pushed an eager look to the surface, burying down any uncomfortable or awkward behavior. She needed to calm down, a few hours and her and Leon would be back at her place scarfing down pizza and washing down the grease with cheap beer.

Leon's opposite hand came up to reach for the gift. "We snagged Amya a little thing or two on the way over. Someone-", he looked down at her, baby blues crinkled in pleasure to try and build up the girl, "was adamant that we stop for balloons, did you know that that gas station by Theo's blows up balloons?", he looked between her and Marvin. "Actually... no. That would've been nice to know before i bought a helium tank.", Marvin's hands swiped down at his jeans in annoyance. "Sixty dollars for something i won't use for another year.", he shook his head. "Well, it beats having to wait in lines and it seems you blew up a lot of balloons for this party.", Leon chucked, seeing the balloons that were tied up, tied around trees and on the porch, then some that were just thrown around on the ground.

"A pain in my ass, i'll tell you that.", Marvin sighed, a smile embedded on his lips. "But I'd do anything for my little girl.", he looked to where Leon was watching, seeing the kids still running, their joy was too much for Leon to look away from. He felt a heaviness in his chest. He wanted this, this life. A white picket fence, a doting wife and sweet, hyper children running around the yard, probably with a dog or two chasing them. "She's adorable.", he mused, his smile widening. Yeah, he'd like this life, one of peace and something that he didn't have growing up. He wondered if she wanted that life too, if she would want that white fence and modern home, those children and dogs he longed for.

He couldn't help it, but imagine her, belly swole with his child, how that pregnancy glow would affect her. He wondered if she'd bare a daughter or son? If they'd have a pink nursery or would she like neutral toned? Marvin clapped down onto Leon's shoulder, breaking his thoughts, shattering the bubble of the life he had dreamt of. "You guys settle in, have some fun and grab a plate.", he smiled back at the assistant, bidding her a nod and turning away from the two. Leon watched him leave before turning down to her. "You ever think about it?", he asked, tentatively, he didn't want to scare her off so early on. After a raised brow was quirked his way, he cleared his throat, hand coming to cover his lips. "Kids, that is.", the hope that gripped at his chest nearly made his breath become baited. "Well...", her lips curled lopsidedly, as if she were trying to pick her words carefully.

"I think kids are nice, but I don't see myself having them. They're a lot to handle and i don't think I'd be a good mother, Leon.", her voice held admittance and truth, but also shame and a slight hint of bitterness. "My family was not kind, I don't think they're in the cards for me.", she nearly whispered. Leon felt like he'd been kicked in the chest, his breath a wheeze as he looked down at her, lips parted and brows furrowed. "You don't want children?", he sounded upset, like he didn't understand how she couldn't want to become a mother. "I think you'd be a wonderful mother.", he tried to reason, holding her hand tighter. "Don't wish away kids forever just because of your past.", he was nearly begging, slightly annoyed at how easily she just brushed something he wanted off, pulling her hand so that she stepped closer to him. He had to tilt his head down a bit to catch her eyes, the ones that fled from his whenever they would catch each others. "Look at how beautiful these families loo, do you really want to push away that chance for yourself?", for us, he wanted to add those words so badly but he knew better. He may have had impulsive tendencies but he knew better than to trip up in front of so many people.

"i just don't see it for me, Leon.", she really didn't, her life was hard and her career was demanding. "Plus, i don't have anyone to have kids with, so it's not a priority and my job is demanding, Leon.", she didn't understand why he was pushing it so hard. It wasn't like they were married and needed to decide. His job was demanding too, did he not realize that? "That's talk for the future, anyway.", she brushed him off, she felt bad, pulling her hand from his but she felt like he was rushing her. They hadn't even gone on a "date" yet, considering tonight was their official start at maybe something more. That was the thing, she liked Leon, yes; she liked him. He was kind and soft and sweet but something really struck her in the moment he became a bit more pushy or his mood flipped at the drop of a hat. His hand caught hers at the last minute, bending her fingers slightly back. "Fine.", Leon let go of her hand, letting it drop to her side. "Let's just enjoy the party.", his eyes were set, his lips sucked to his teeth She held her hand, he probably didn't realize what he did, right? This was the sort of Leon that made her want to say fuck it all and just leave, but he brought her here and there wasn't anyway to get to her home unless she wanted to walk the entire way. She knew she had angered him, but it was her decision and why the hell did he want her to choose right now?

She gave him a side eye before looking for the table for the gift that laid in his opposite hand. She reached for the gift, eyes set on the table that had been decorated with the balloons and pink and purple streamers. "I'll put this up.", she whispered, not wanting to somehow anger the man more. She wondered if maybe there was more than the always clean and cut rookie, if there was something that caused the switches to flip at moments. She knew Leon had a hard past, Rebecca's ever present blabber mouth keeping her up to date with any gossip that spread like fire in a drought. Leon's hand shot out to hers, "i'll take it, just have some fun. You look like you'd rather be anywhere else.", his grip was tighter than she was comfortable with. "Hey-", she hissed, her hand trying to break from his hold. "Be quiet and sit down.", he spoke, his tone harsher than ever before as he pushed her arm towards a chair. She had never felt his touch be so rough with her as she flopped back into lawn chair a few feet from them. She watched Leon walk over to the colorful table, tossing the present alongside others. He rolled his shoulders as he walked back to her, sitting down in the chair next to hers. "I'm sorry.", he knew he had to show her he hadn't meant to hurt her, despite the fact that he had known what he was doing. He wanted her to feel bad for her decision. He wanted her to want to have children. He was going to marry her after all, if he couldn't have children with her then that just ruined every bit of his dream future. He'd have to convince her, but after the way he grabbed her he knew she wouldn't listen to him now.

  Upon hearing nothing but silence on her end, Leon leaned up in the chair, head turning to face her. "Hey, i said i'm sorry, bunny.", he reached out for her wrist, his much larger fingers nearly brushing her delicate skin before she snatched it away from him. "Come on, Bunny.", he was aggravated, now she was just trying to piss him off. "I said i was sorry. I didn't mean to grab you that way, i forget my own strength. I'm not around pretty women like you that are smaller than me.", he knew making her feel bad for him would soften her up. "Honest, Bunny...", he cooed to her, his hand reaching across the gap between their chairs once more. "Come on, don't shut me out. Birthdays are suppose to be fun, right? Let's have fun, my sweet, sweet Bunny girl.", he gave her his best puppy eyes, his fingers wrapping around her wrist before she lulled her head towards him. Part of her wanted to tell him off and say that his mood swings were pissing her off, then she remembered that family may be a sore spot for him, since the murder of his own family. Sometimes those prattles that Rebecca went on were helpful, useful information instead of just who slept with who.

  "Leon, you can't grab me like that.", she kept her voice down, as to not cause anymore scene than they already may have. "You hurt me.", her voice quivered slightly, her wrist being taken in his hand as she relinquished her defiance into his wants. "It scared me.", she whispered, her eyes searching his as he brushed his thumb over the thin skin of her wrist. "I know.", he meant to, "i didn't mean it. I just-", he sighed, his head hanging a bit more. "Family is a hard thing for me to talk about. I should've controlled myself, i shouldn't have brought it up because i knew it could lose my composure. I really, really am sorry.", he sounded desperate to her and it melted her heart. Seeing him so worked up over what he had done, once again that nickname rang true. A little bunny who was so easily manipulated by a few sob stories and apologies.

  "Tonight, i'll tell you why it's a soft spot if you want me to.", he sighed, still brushing his thumb pad over her veins. "I want this to work out with us, this- dating- thing. I want to be with you, Bunny. Ever since i saw you on my first day, I was too shy to say anything but you were just so pretty.", he felt his cheeks light up. "Your skirts you always wear, those little kitten heels that click when you step.", her own cheeks reddened at his words. Some soft words to add to breaking her down into something he could call his. He'd work on getting her use to the idea of children in time. He knew he'd have to mold her into his perfect wife. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted her and he'd have her. He'd have that perfect life, no matter that it took on his end.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 2 #yandere leon #yandere leon kennedy #puppy leon #puppy!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #officer leon kennedy #hybrid leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy drabble #rookie leon kennedy #re2 leon kennedy #leon vendetta #vendetta leon #leon resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil leon #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 #yandere re2 leon #re2 leon #resident evil 6 #re fanfic

[lcvegoob]

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ◟੭

ഒ pairings. george weasley x gn! reader

ഒ summary. falling in love with your best friend wasnt in the plan. just some wholesome moments between the reader and their best friend george weasley. fred is also the reader's best friend, but the reader and george are way closer. inspired by 'best friend by laufey'. in an a/u where voldemort never happened.

ഒ warnings. mentions of insecurity, mentions of underaged drinking, mentions of reader in gryffindor, set during reader and george’s years at hogwarts.

ഒ note. nothing to say but, enjoy !! i kinda gave up at the end and just bullshitted through it so i apologize

ഒ status. unedited, not proofread

it's come to my attention

that i don't show enough

it's only when i drink, i open up

you groaned after talking a swig from your cup full of firewhiskey. alcohol was never your favorite, it burned your throat and you had low tolerance. gryffindors had won the recent quidditch game so the twins decided to throw a party. they snuck in food from the kitchens and invited different students from other houses. you didn’t know how they managed to have alcohol, probably snuck it in from hogsmade.

it was late at night, and all the other students from other houses have left. only a couple of gryffindor kids were left who were either passed out, or still drinking with their fellow friends. meanwhile you and george were sprawled out on the couch in front of the fireplace, staring into it as the heat warmed up your faces. you were pretty drunk and still had half a glass left.

legs were tangled, head on each other’s head, drinks in hand, and enjoying each others’ companies.

“george?” you said.

he hummed to let you know that he’s listening. “what’s up love?”

“nothing, i just wanted to say that you look really pretty right now.”

it’s true, he looked gorgeous. the lighting from the fire brought out his features. his hooked nose, his freckles, and his red hair. the fire emitted a soft orange glow that made his hair look like fire. he chuckled softly and brought an arm around you to pull you even closer.

“i think you’re just drunk y/n.” george laughed softly.

“tch, you know what they say… drunk thoughts are sober feelings… or whatever it is.” slurring your words together, and taking another gulp of firewhiskey.

“you really think so?” george softly said while swirling his cup.

you whipped your head towards him almost knocking him out. you furrowed your eyebrows together in annoyance. “of course i do, i mean look at you.” you threw your arms out in exasperation.

“i mean who wouldn’t think you’re pretty? you have freckles like stars, i want to connect them with a pen one time and make constellations out of them. your hair is just like fire and red- and i love red, you should know this.” you rambled.

“its not just your face either, your whole personality is beautiful. and i just- you’re just so-.” you couldn’t finish because you bursted out in tears.

“y/n-.” george panicked and didn’t know what to do, but instead pulled you closer and rubbed your back.

“hey it’s okay…” you cried into his sweater, he let you not caring about your tears soaking his clothing.

this went on for 10 more minutes, with you sobbing and him comforting you. at last, he felt your breathing calm down and become even signaling him that you’re already asleep. george adjusted his position so you’re laying on his chest instead. he didn’t want to wake you up since you were already knocked out. luckily, there was a blanket on the couch and he laid that over the both of you.

he gently stroked your hair which calmed him down and knocked him out too.

but i promise that i love you

even with that hairdo

i’m sorry i made fun of it

it’s not your fault it looks like shit (like shit)

george has dragged you to his dorm so you could give him opinions on his outfit/hair for his date today. you didn’t want to, because one. you were jealous. two, it was with angelina johnson. nothing was wrong with angelina, other than her knowing you like george and her proceeding to ask him out.

it pissed you off and you wanted to just lay in your bed and daydream all day. you wanted to be the one who george was getting ready for, the one he was trying to impress, the one who-

“y/nnn.” a hand was waved in front of you.

“huh? sorry what were you saying georgie?” you looked up from staring at the bedsheets directly into george’s eyes.

“you okay? you were zoned out, i was calling your name like five times love.” george turned around again and fixed his hair in the mirror.

“i’m fine, its nothing. just busy thinking.” you waved it away and brought your knees to your chest. you wrapped your arms around your legs with your hands in george’s jumper sleeves, that you stole borrowed.

george knew it wasn’t nothing, but decided to not pull the topic out of you. he turned around and did jazz hands.

“so? how do i look? does my hair look okay?” he waited for your answer.

you blinked owlish at him and started laughing. “whaat?” george whined.

“you- you look so.” good. you wanted to tell him he looked amazing.

“so stupid. your hair looks like shit. it’s just sticking out. it looks like a crow’s nest.” you finally got the words out and sighed from laughing so much. “here cmere let me help you.”

you moved down his bed to sit at the edge while he bent down to your height so you could reach. after fussing with his hair and trying to make his hair stick you finally finished.

“there! as pretty as roses.” you laughed.

george adjusted, stood up, and looked in the mirror, admiring your work.

“great, thanks y/n. you’re the best.” he looked at you through the mirror and smiled. he grabbed your hand and took you outside. there was angelina waiting for george, who smiled at him when she saw him.

you let go of george’s hands and whispered to him ‘good luck’. to which he smiled warmly at you and mouthed ‘thanks’. you watched from a distance as they both hugged each other and went on their ways to hogsmade.

hermione was just walking down the stairs from the dorms and saw you. “hey y/n, you okay?”

“hm? yeah i’m fine mione.” you smiled at the brunette.

she nodded not fully convinced, “do you want to go to hogsmade with ron, harry, and i?” she offered.

you shook your head, “no it’s okay, i have a lot of essays to do anyways. maybe next time?”

she nodded and gave you a huge hug. meanwhile, the portrait door swung open and came in harry and ron.

“bloody hell did you see george’s hair? it looked like shi-.” a whack sound echoed.

“ow! hermione!” ron rubbed his shoulder where hermione hit him.

“ronald, shut up.” hermione rolled her eyes. meanwhile you were laughing. “i told him that, and i fixed it for him. so basically, you’re insulting my work ronald.” you had your wand up.

ron shuddered and backed away to hide behind harry. “you ready hermione?” harry asked while rolling his eyes at ron.

“yes, we’ll see you later y/n! bye!” the golden trio waved goodbye and went to hogsmade. you went up to your dorms and decided to distract yourself with work, ‘maybe next time, i’ll be the one going with george’.

i have never tolerated someone for so long

i’ve never laughed so much

i haven't written a sad song

"can you believe it? we're in 6th year already!" fred exclaimed as he pushed his trolley.

molly was busy with fussing with ginny and checking to make sure all of her kids have their belongings.

you laughed and pushed your trolley next to the twins' "i know! one more year and we're out of here!"

"y/n, can you believe it? this is our sixth year together." george smiled at you.

you thought to yourself 'yeah and six years of me liking you'.

"yeah time goes by so fast, i can't believe i've tolerated you and fred for so long." you laughed and reached the two platforms 9 and 10.

"alright y/n, dear, go on first." molly appeared behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

you smiled warmly at her and proceeded to run towards platform 9 3/4. and there is was, the good ol' hogwarts express, bellowing and all red.

you took a deep breath, but before you were able to move, george's trolley almost crashed into you.

thankfully, he noticed and turned it so he could bump into you instead of the trolley.

"woah there love!" he exclaimed and proceeded to catch the both of you before falling.

"george watch where you're going." you scolded him and picked up a package that fell off.

he rubbed the back of his neck and gently took the box from you, all flushed from embarrassment. "sorry love, didn't know you were still there. maybe you should have hurried."

the rest of the weasleys along with harry, whom they met with when you were already through the wall, boarded the train with all their belongings.

you and the twins got inside a compartment and settled down. you and george on one side, while fred on the opposite.

"so. do you two have any plans this year? any new pranks?" you asked.

fred thought for a moment, "well love, we do... only this time it's a secret." he winked at you.

your jaw dropped. this is the first time they've done a prank without you in it. well, it would be okay you thought. maybe this year you'd graduate without any detentions.

"not fair." you complained.

george laughed, "don't worry y/n. it's just one prank that you won't know about."

you gasped. "are you going to prank me??" you screeched.

fred covered his ears and winced, while george was just doubling over in laughter.

"no love- not this time." george said in between laughs.

it was fred's turn to gasp. "george george, do you remember the last time we pulled a prank on our dear y/n."

george put on a mischievous smile, "no fred, i don't recall. care to explain it to me?"

you flushed in embarrassment already knowing what it was.

"hey! you two stop it alright? it was embarrassinggg." you whined.

george and fred were dying of laughter, tears were forming in their eyes.

they sighed and wiped away stray tears. one eye contact. and another wave of laughter hit them.

they looked so stupid you decided to join in on the laughter.

there’s no one else I'd rather fall asleep with

and dream with

you’re my best friend in the world

you and george were on top of the astronomy tower, on a blanket to celebrate your friendaversary. you both were laughing from stories in the previous years of your friendship.

"oh that reminds me," george paused and went to take something out of his pocket.

"what? what is it?" you asked and tried looking what was in his hand.

he shushed you and told you to close your eyes.

you closed your eyes hesitantly and huffed out air. "george if you prank me right now, we're not best friends anymore."

he just chuckled at you, "don't worry my love, i won't do anything to hurt you."

he grabbed your wrist gently and made you open your hand.

he placed the object in the palm of your hand and told you to open your eyes.

inside of your hand laid a beautiful silver/gold bracelet with your initials engraved on it. on the back was the day you two met and became friends.

"oh my god, it's beautiful georgie." he took it out of your hand and proceeded to put it on your wrist.

after that he pulled his jumper sleeve up to show you his matching bracelet, along with the date and his initials.

you smiled so much that your cheeks started to hurt, and leapt onto george to give him the biggest hug. unfortunately he wasn't prepared and proceeded to fall onto the pillows and blanket.

he let out an 'oof' and wrapped his arms around you.

"thank you george. i can't thank you enough." you said into his neck which made him shiver and flush.

"you're welcome, y/n." he rubbed circles into your back and the two of you fell asleep.

when we're ninety-eight and ninety-nine (ninety-nine)

tumbling down the stairs

you'll barely catch me in time (tumbling down)

you were bundled up in your blankets slightly sniffling. you were supposed to go to hogsmade today but got stood up. so here you were in your bed, being all depressed.

a knock interrupted your self pity, a soft voice spoke through the door. "y/n? love, are you okay?"

you knew it was george so you sluggishly, walked to open the door.

"hey-." his voice cut off when he saw you with puffy and red eyes. with tear marks all over you cheeks.

his heart broke in two, he hated seeing you cry.

"hey, hey what happened?" george moved his hands to your face to wipe your tears away.

"i got stood up today." you managed to get out.

he was pissed, who would want to stand you up? someone fucking stupid that's who. he didn't say anything put moved you aside to step inside your dorm and pulled you to your bed.

he sat you down and handed you your stuffed animal.

he sat down beside you and sighed. "they're not worth crying over love. they're a bloody fucking idiot. i'm going to kill them. thankfully, there's a quidditch game next week. i'm going to fucking destroy them."

you placed a gentle hand on george's and shook your head. "s' okay george, don't worry about it."

he was about to say something but stopped himself when he turned his head towards you, and was greeted by a small sad smile.

you sighed loud and fell back on your mattress.

"fuck love honestly, i hate it." george decided to lay down with you too and nodded.

"yeah screw love, who needs it." this was also a few months after angelina cheated on him.

you stared at the ceiling for a bit, when suddenly a thought came up.

"george?"

a hum was heard.

"what if we made a promise to each other?"

he propped himself up onto his hand to look down at you.

"and what might that be?"

"if by the time we're thirty, and we're both still single. we'll date each other."

he thought to himself, "okay, i promise."

he held out his pinky to you waiting for you to link yours.

you brought yours and wrapped your pinky around his and connected your thumbs together to seal the promise.

"imagine we're still alive at 99 and tumbling everywhere."

you let out a snort. you smiled and wiped the remaining tears away from your face.

"i like when you do that." george started to say.

"do what? snort?" you laughed.

"no, when you smile." george said.

"stop." you blushed and threw your stuffed animal in his face.

"hey!"

we’ll argue about what to watch on TV

finally pick a movie, then we'll fall asleep (asleep)

it was christmas break, and this time he was over at your house. he was was on the couch, hogging the shared a blanket while you were looking through

"okay what movie?" you asked while looking through the cds you had.

you pulled out 'tim burton's the nightmare before christmas'. "what about this one?" you waved it around.

george's nose scrunched, "isn't that a halloween movie?"

"no! it literally says 'nightmare before christmas', are you okay?" you rolled your eyes.

"do you have any other movies?"

you looked through the box, "mmm 'home alone'."

"yes let's watch that."

you put it back. "no we've watched that so many times."

"c'mon!" he threw his head back.

"oo what about 'edward scissorhands'?" you pulled the cd out.

"..."

"george what?" "nothing."

"you know what here." you grabbed all three cds and brought them to the small coffee table.

"okay georgie, close your eyes and pick one."

he put a hand over his eyes and shuffled around the cds. finally his hands covered one cd case. 'home alone'.

you internally groaned. meanwhile george was cheering.

"woohoo!" he got up and inserted the cd so it would play on the tv.

you got under the blanket and waited for your personal pillow to come sit on the couch with you.

while the movie was playing, you felt sleepy. one from boredom, and two from george playing with your hair.

you quickly fell asleep which made george chuckle, he was used to this so he laid his head ontop of yours and fell asleep as well.

we’ll still be a little bit strange

some things never change

"you still suck ass george weasley."

"i know y/n y/l."

it’s funny 'cause you drive me half insane

a universe without you would be thoroughly mundane

"what if i never went to hogwarts?" you stated out of the blue.

george's jaw dropped and he turned his head towards you.

"what did you say."

"what if i never went to hogwarts?" you repeated and fiddled with a piece of bread.

"i mean, i could've gone to beauxbatons. or what about ilvermorny, or what abou-." a piece of bread was stuffed into your mouth.

"shut up." george said flatly.

you chewed and swallowed. "it's just a what if question love. if my parents actually told me i'm going to either of those schools, i'd kill myself."

"y/n. just shut up." george grumbled.

you placed your elbow on the table to prop yourself up.

"george, i don't think there's ever been one universe, where we're not together. we'd always find each other. i can feel it."

george smirked teasingly. "you can feel it in your balls..?"

you whacked his shoulder.

"stop right now."

there’s no one else I'd rather fall in love with

and that is my best friend in the world

a hand waved in front of your face, you blinked a few times before answering.

"bloody hell you sure do space out a lot," lee laughed. "been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes."

"oh sorry lee, i wasn't paying attention." you closed your book.

you were watching the quidditch team practice for their game tomorrow and the twins told you to watch them.

"you've got a bit of a staring problem y/n." lee joked.

"what? no i don't." you opened your book again to distract yourself from lee.

he snorted, "yes, yes you do. to a specific weasley i might add. maybe... george perhaps?"

"PFFT, george? no. he's my best friend! it would ruin our friendship lee." you threw your hands out in exasperation.

he scoffed. "you two are so painfully oblivious. look there's your boyfriend making goo goo eyes at you right now."

you turned your head as quick as lightning and made eye contact with the one and only george weasley. he was holding his bat and winked at you.

you flushed badly and covered your face with your scarf.

"aww look at you two..."

"lee i will push you off of the stands and i will watch you fall." you threatened.

"woah okay calm down tiger." he laughed.

"well alright, i just came to check in on you. i'll see you in the common room later. bye y/n!" lee turned and went on his way back.

you caught yourself staring again at george, fantasizing all the things you could do if you dated. when suddenly a pang of realization hit you.

you were in love with your best friend.

and that best friend, so happened to be george weasley.

you’re my best friend in the world

"george, i just wanted to say i love you."

"i love you too darling." he smiled.

"no, i love love you."

"well i love love you too."

"no george, i don't think you understand. i'm in love with you."

"love i know, i'm in love with you too."

#Spotify #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #fred weasley #best friend

[dentiststoothfairy]

tׁׅᨵׁׅׅᨵׁׅׅtׁׅhׁׅ֮'ׅ꯱ ꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅ݊ꪀtׁׅꫀׁׅܻ݊ꭈׁׅɑׁׅᝯׁ֒tׁׅꪱׁׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ᥎ׁׅꫀׁׅܻ݊ ᝯׁ֒hׁׅ֮ꭈׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ꯱tׁׅꩇׁׅ֪݊ ɑׁׅׅ꯱ ƙׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ꯱ׅ꯱

℘ɑׁׅꭈׁׅtׁׅ ᨵׁׅׅ݊ꪀꫀׁׅܻ݊

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴏʟᴇᴛᴜs ᴍᴀɴᴏʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴜʟʟ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴡɪɴᴋʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ғʟᴀᴋᴇ ᴏғ sɴᴏᴡ ғᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴇsᴄᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɴɢᴇʟs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟɪᴘ-ᴄʟᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴏғ ʀᴇɪɴᴅᴇᴇʀ ʜᴏᴏᴠᴇs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ. ʙʏ ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴏʀ, ʙʏ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴs ᴀɴᴅ ʙʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴄᴀsᴛ ᴏғ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ᴠ, ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴍɪsᴛʟᴇᴛᴏᴇ ᴋɪss ᴡɪᴛʜ.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

"Wake up! Wake up!" A voice rung out, the rapping on my Guest Room in Oletus Manor woke me up from my peaceful slumber. I slammed a pillow on my face, closed my eyes gently and prayed that Mike would leave me alone. I had no idea what time it was, but whatever time it was... It didn't matter, let me sleep damnit!

"[Name]! It's Christmas!" My door swung open with the smell of gasses filling the room. Had he used his bombs on my door knob?! I sat up with my eyes glaring into his bright ones. His freckled smile holding an incomparable shine that rivaled any star.

"There better be a new lock in one of my presents." I frowned, crawling my way from under my sheets. Mike let out a playful laugh before closing my busted door, allowing me the privacy to get presentable for the day.

As I styled my hair the way I liked it, I couldn't help but throw in a Christmas accessory, just to make things for festive. With a smile, I got into my outfit of the day.

As I shoved my (now broken) door open, I noticed the change in the Manor's hallways. Tinsel lined the trimming of the walls intertwined with beautiful Christmas lights that twinkled with a small golden glow. I have a light gasp. Had the manor magically done this overnight? Or did someone really manage to decorate such a large mansion in one night?

"You know." Mike's voice pulled my attention from the lights onto him. He must've waited for me outside. He was leaning on a wall, with a reindeer antler headband that was somehow mixed into his curly hair and a festive Christmas attire to match. "They say Saint Nicholas goes around the world in one night. Do ya think whoever did this.. Wonderful Christmas decorations did this in one night too?" He winked playfully.

I rolled my eyes at his cheek and followed the manor hallway down, as I entered near the main courtroom.. There was so much going on..!

Emma, Tracy and Lily were all seen dangling off poor Leo who was struggling to raise the three playful girls off him. He was dressed as Santa, so of course they were more than happy to ask Leo what kind of presents he bought.

But the smile on Emma's face.

It lit up the whole room.

Naib and Ganji were about to St.- Start fighting? They had their hands up and all... Norton was currently holding bets with his hand up.

"We've got two on Subedar." I noticed William and Aesop perk up slightly. Naib shot a look towards Eli who gave a sheepish smile, gambling against his friend. How funny.

Melly, Alice, Orpheus and unsurprisingly Helena were all feverishly discussing some type of book that I noticed. They all spoke much quieter than the guys, so it was more difficult to pick up on the conversation but the cover read "The Little Match Girl."

Mike besides me ran towards a fellow group of blondes. Anne seemed hard at work along side an identically hard working Victor, they were feverishly wrapping presents for other survivors and a few for the hunters. A few toys made by Anne, telling from the beautiful paintwork on the wood and Victor would obviously deliver them... And Edgar who was doing a sketch besides them. All three of them kneeling on the ground to which Mike practically knocked those bowling pins go the ground.

I could always go find some other survivors.. Or find the Hunters instead.

[🦷🎀 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝙾𝚅𝙸𝙳 <𝟹 ]

#anon #anon ask #x reader #x y/n #identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv christmas #identity v christmas #❆ Christmas Kiss Project (2023) #❆ Christmss Kiss Project #interactive #idv

[gnoccigon]

Leo Valdez Friends to Lovers headcanons asf 😍😍 pt. 1

i luv the idea of leo having a friends to lovers trope. like it’s so cutie and makes me feel safe ig idk bruh

okie anyway

yes this mans is constantly flirting w people and wants to be a PLAYAH, but his intentions were never rly serious (until he met u 😏)

cuz ya know, abandonment issues :(

from the first time he saw you, he thought you were incredibly pretty

Leo brain: new girl at camp… new girl cute… hope not Hephaestus kid… she smiled at me… *passes away*

but from then you’d hang out with piper a lot and leo would be loitering in your guys’s general vicinity, until eventually you were introduced by her

cuz of that you became friends quick, which he cherished and didn’t want to ruin by pursuing you

but i meannn, let the shameless flirting begin. yall would throw pick up lines back and forth like there is no tmrw

the more outrageous, the better.

but it was also a genuine friendship you guys created; as well as being very honest with each other

a genuine friendship full of THICK sexual tension and longing… but real nonetheless :D

imagine: one time you, leo and ur friends went swimming and were hanging out on the dock

people were running around and splashing in the water

you were sitting on the edge of the dock with leo. he was messing with a fishing pole, trying to make it automatic w whatever scraps he found lying around (lil genius mechanic) and you were j observing him

and gods, did he look good.

he was shirtless, and after spending all day in the sun he had a light bronze glow to his typical tan.

a few more freckles dusted his face and shoulders

and his curly hair, dried from sun and the sea salt, gave it this messy beach vibe. he was focused on his project, blessing his face with the cute concentration expression he makes whenever he is working.

there was no denying that you found him attractive, but in that moment; the mix of spending such a fun day with him, thinking about how much you like him as a person, and just looking at him shirtless–

it was like he was magnetic

“you look really good right now” you say out of the blue

despite him being focused on his fishing rod, he turned to look at you in surprise.

“what?” he said, not really comprehending your words.

“I saaaid you look really good right now.”

and for a few seconds, he just stared at you with his mouth agape.

“i- um… thank you?” he said, keeping his same shocked expression

you kind of broke him in that moment, he couldn’t process that you thought he looked good. he thinks you’re out of his league by miles (no bby ur gorgeous) and couldn’t 100% tell if you were making fun of him or not… buttt

“i’m just being honest you dingus” you said to him, laughing lightly

“your hair is extra curly right now, it’s cute.”

twirling a stray curl around your finger, giving him an adoring look

“welp, i’m gonna go grab a drink, brb” you say getting up and walking inside

Leo was left sitting on the dock, stunned and red from something else besides a sunburn.

piper: hey! earth to leoo, did you get sun poisoning or some shit? you’re all red

leo: …

piper: percy can u help me with this?

percy: i gotch u

*tsunami wave* -drenched asf leo

moving on…

you and leo would randomly say what’s on your mind

more time spent together, more small habits abt each other you would discover and treasure

at that point, leo couldn’t deny it anymore, he might have developed a lil crush on u (cough the bigggggest crush on u cough).

He didn't know how to go about it though, so of course he confided in piper.

“i mean at first i thought I just admired her as a friend yaknow? like a super sexy hot friend who i wanted to be with all the time, but keeping our relationship as just friends.

BUT NOW IDK WHAT TO DO I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE SHES LITERALLY TOO PERFECT AND I WANNA BE MORE THAN FRIENDS. IM FREAKINGNOUT EVERYTIME I SEE HER SHES SO FREAKING CUTE AHHHHH” -leo

Piper listening, definitely finds this whole situation funny. you guys are so painfully obvious, but also so fucking oblivious at the same time.

but in response to leo’s rant: “leo, i know”

“omg how did you know!?” 😦😦 he says genuinely baffled.

but as they talk, he makes piper promise to keep it a secret, even though she tells him that you’re interested too and pretty much everyone can tell.

alas, leo does not want to ruin anything, and decides to suffer in silence and keep talking about you to piper.

#leo valdez #the lost hero #leovaldez #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leovaldezismyhusband #anti caleo #ily #screaming #hes so fine

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Ace x Fem Reader: Praising Kink N/SFW

Requested by @drawingaddict1 : Happy Holidays. I would like to request Praising Kink with Ace and Fem reader. Kind regards TW: Praising kink, mutual masturbation WC:600+ Masterlist

“Ace stop~” you whispered in a giggly tone to him. He was nuzzling his nose into the crook's neck. The sweet scent of your perfume filled his nostrils. The pretty yellow summer dress you were wearing was his favorite dress on you. Of course, it was a bit embarrassing seeing the pass by and snicker at you both. Ace didn’t care who saw him, he enjoyed every part of you. To him, there was not one flaw about you. “I can’t help it babe” bringing his head up and giving you the cute freckle-face smile that made your heart spin. Cupping your cheeks as he kissed the tip of your nose. “Oi if you two are done with rubbing it in that you're a couple why don't you both bring some crates of potatoes up from the stockroom as a couple.” Thatch chuckled, his hands crossed against his chest.  Both of you made your way down the narrow hallways down the steps into the stock room. It was a bit darker the more you made your way down. “Hold onto me, I don't want you slipping _______.” his hand on the opposite side glowed the bright flame from his devil fruit. Your arms began to wrap around his bicep. Exiting the final step from the stairs, still holding onto Ace. Your chest was pressed against his arm.

“He has to put them all the way in the back.” you sighed.

“Well, that means I get you to myself for a while until we go back up.” Making the flame in his hand disappear. “Isn’t it nice to have some alone time together?” He spoke in a low voice. Ace turned towards you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He could see the bright yellow dress you were wearing. His hands rested on your waist before lifting you up on the crates. your feet were dangling off the height from the crate. You were at eye level with your freckle-face lover.

“Are you trying to start something?” your hands pressing against his pecks.

“Does it seem like I’m starting something?” the seductive tone came from Ace’s lips. “At times I can't help it.” his hands pushed the hem of the bottom of your dress up. “Wanna play.”

Your own hands began to trail down Ace's toned body. Finally reaching the belt buckle that was holding his pants up.  Loosening the buckle up a bit lets your hand slide down in his pants. Feeling his semi-hardened cock twitch in your hands. Stroke his shaft you began to feel it become hard. The pre-cum milking from his tip. “Play with me~~.” batting your lashes at the blushing commander.

The panting man whose fingers began to trail up your thighs. His fingers pushed the panties to the side. His fingers were already warm because of his devil fruit. His warm fingers pushed inside your slippery wet cunt. Ace’s two-digit fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. The warming sensation from his fingers intensified the sensitivity of your cunt. “Such a good girl for getting wet like this for me. You enjoy stroking my cock?” he purred the question in your ear sending chills down your spine.

“Feels so good baby~~” panting as you begin to stroke him a bit faster. Ace's knees felt weak for a moment as he gave into the sensation as you stroked his cock.

“Fuck~~” letting out a low groan as he began to match your stroke motion with your fingers on his cock. Ace focused on eye contact with you with his free hand and his thumb traced your bottom lip. The soft moans escape from your lips “doesn’t this feel good babe~~~?”

#fire fist ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #one piece ace #ace #one shot #one piece x reader insert #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #the naughty list #the witch of one piece

[donteatthefishtacos]

A Sweater

Alright. Last week's Critical Role has burrowed its way into my brain today and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this. SO.

Have this little thing, based on Imogen's visit to the Dawnfather's Temple... and a conversation about things to offer him.

“Things that represent importance, of bright color. Crafts made with passion. Things that represent maintenance in creation. A snip from a garden you keep. A sweater that has grown too small for your children. There are many things.”

Laudna/Imogen

(I guess you could call this a preemptive fix-it because who doesn't want these witches to eventually be okay??)

(This is continued beneath the cut)

Winter’s Crest at Whitestone never quite failed to drive home the adage old habits die hard for Imogen. Several years nearing to a decade of a quiet life had left her unused to crowds; and despite the hard fought victory that gave her much greater control over all her powers, the mind reading included, the swell of the crowd as they neared the square had her scrambling within her own mind to put up blocks she no longer needed. Reality caught up to her as Laudna turned to glance over her shoulder at her with a wide smile from a few feet ahead. Imogen’s lungs seemed to remember the job they were meant to do automatically at the eye contact and she smiled at her wife through a sharp intake of cold air to her suddenly burning chest. 

Dark eyes she loved so much narrowed a bit in question and Imogen reached out, “I’m alright, Laud. Just. A lotta people.”

Laudna reached back with her free left hand to grab Imogen’s and pull her closer until she was practically tucked into her side. Imogen smiled into the soft, familiar fabric at her shoulder when a reply came in her own head, “You know I don’t mind heading back to the castle at any time, Imogen. Just say the word and we’re back in our room, Darling. With a lot less people.”

An excited shout from just in front and a couple of feet or so below them drew their gazes down in unison to the small girl clutching tight to Laudna’s other hand. “Can we play the games, Mama?” Purple pigtails framed her tiny, freckled face and Imogen’s heart squeezed a bit in her chest as big brown eyes turned from herself to Laudna in turn. Four-year-old sweetness all but weaponized up at them. If Imogen hadn’t known any better she might have thought their daughter had caught the conversation happening in their heads. But Cadence was spared the burden of learning to tune out other people’s thoughts. A small miracle. Wrapped up in the real miracle that she was. That this life was.

Paté floated into view with some level of difficulty due to the crowd of people that continued to pass by them where they stopped near the side wall of some business or another as if they were little more than a small collection of boulders in a flowing stream. Snowflakes drifted by on the slight breeze that Imogen had only just noticed had begun to fall and the general chill in the air had her tucking that much closer into Laudna’s side, her cheeks undoubtedly flushed in the winter air. “Yeah Mum,” the familiar echoed, “I can help with the ring toss.”

Their voices tumbled out over each other in reply.

“Of course we can play, love.”

“Don’t teach her to cheat at the carnival games, Paté.”

The dark blue woolen pea coat straight from the de Rolos’ tailor highlighted the pinkness of the little girl’s cheeks. Her hair was also a stark contrast to the dark fabric, buttoned up to the very top as it was; Laudna’s potentially overprotective instinct that won out on their way out the door after they’d paid for the garment. Excited brown eyes and a second pair of mischievous glowing blue ones watched them, a bit of confusion peeking through at the garbled messages. “We can play?,” Cadence asked, beginning to hop a bit on the tips of her toes. 

Laudna’s gaze turned to her, concern-filled and an identical brown to the other set she could still see gazing up at her in her periphery . “Are you sure you’re alright, Imogen? We don’t have to stay if this is too much.”

Imogen laughed, and gestured to the two little beings to their side. The familiar perched on the little girl’s shoulder, eliciting an excited giggle as he did. “Honey what kinda monster would I be to make that face leave all this fun?”

Laudna bit her lip in amusement and glanced to her right. Their daughter began to tug on Laudna’s hand a bit. “Please, Mummy?”

Imogen squeezed her arm fondly when their eyes met again. “You go. I’ll just take a walk for a bit where it’s less crowded and meet you by the food stalls in an hour? That okay?”

---------------

Somehow, despite the fact that their visits back to Laudna’s home town only really happened on special occasions like the Winter’s Crest Festival, Imogen’s feet carried her on a path as if she walked it every day. The visceral memory of it all must have embedded itself in her brain and soul, she supposed. Without really an end destination in mind, Imogen ended up in front of the Dawnfather’s Temple. Just like she had that other winter day all those years before, when she’d gone hoping for something or someone more powerful than they were. Something to outweigh the sum of the parts that was Delilah Briarwood and her hold over Laudna. 

Unsurprisingly for a festival day such as this one, the building was empty when Imogen finally willed herself to rise off the perch she’d made on one of the headstones nearest the building to go inside out of the cold. The series of events involved in saving the world from Ludinus and Predathos and finally ridding Laudna of Delilah hadn’t exactly made Imogen a pious woman. She didn’t spend her days in prayer or set up a shrine to any gods in the little cottage they’d built in the Heartmoor Hamlet, but she was a sensible one. And as such she made sure to check in from time to time, in an effort to show gratitude to Pelor. Because she knew she owed him that.

The door creaked a bit as it swung open. Whether that was from a rusty hinge or simply a side effect of the cold, she couldn’t say. The huff of a breath Imogen let out in response resulted in a small cloud of fog in front of her face and she tucked her hands a bit deeper into the pockets of her coat. She glanced around the space as she walked and went on a circuitous path that ended up rather predictably at the altar at the back of the building.

The words of Mother Brazilda echoed in her mind from the past and she tried in vain to hold back a shiver at the memory relived.

“It is rare, but the gods work in all sorts of strange ways. In the little miracles, in the gifts that come unexpected. In the warmth that keeps you in the coldest of night. In the luck that feeds your family when you’ve lost the ability to keep them. In the communities that rally around you. All these are the small miracles. And if you stay around, sometimes the real miracles present themselves as well.”

Tears she hadn’t realized had begun to form blurred her vision as she stood there. Outside the building a crowd of what she thought must be teenagers shouted at each other over footsteps that crunched in the packed snow; Imogen shook herself out of her reverie. She took a shaky breath in and pulled her hand out of her pocket. When she did, she dislodged the piece of clothing she’d tucked between her coat the strap of her bag. Cadence’s coat from last year that they’d brought along only to discover she had outgrown it. 

She wiped at the tears that collected on her cheek as she bent down to retrieve it and more of the small speech she’d been given years ago floated into her consciousness. 

“Things that represent importance, of bright color. Crafts made with passion. Things that represent maintenance in creation. A snip from a garden you keep. A sweater that has grown too small for your children. There are many things.”

She trailed her thumb over the fabric and smiled. Faded patchwork from a quilt Zhudanna had insisted they take with them on some visit to Jrusar after they married. Laudna had been so excited to make the little coat out of a section of the fabric, and Cadence loved it too. Even wearing it on days when it was objectively too warm to do so. 

Fresh tears began to pool in her eyes as she realized she now had something to offer other than a joke t-shirt she just happened to have on her. Something that was colorful and important. A piece of clothing made by her very passionate wife. For the child they’d also made with passion of a different kind. And that child had outgrown it. Would continue to grow even. Because a whole lot of people had worked together to stop a god eating god. 

She cleared her eyes with the soft fabric that smelled like her daughter and set it on the altar. It looks much better there than that stupid fucking t-shirt, she thought with a laugh that caught slightly in her chest.

After a steadying breath, she looked up toward the roof, sniffed to clear her nose of the lingering sting of the incense that was just constantly being burned in the space. Unsure how to begin, she cleared her throat.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doin’ this right,” she began, ran her hand over the coat. “But, uh, I have this now. It’s my daughter’s. My wife made it.  And, you know, I wouldn’t have any of it without-,” Imogen trailed off, then. The burn of emotion settled in her torso. The tears thick in her throat. “Well- without help.”

“So, uh, thank you. Again.” She stood at the altar a few more moments, the only sound in the room her unsteady breathing and the faint sound of the fireplace in the adjoining room. Equally unsure of how to close these kinds of monologues into the empty air, she laughed awkwardly to herself. “Alright, bye.”

The return to the cold air made the tears that had trailed down her cheeks unawares sting slightly on her cheeks and she dried them with her sleeve. Imogen’s heart surged with the thought of her girls somewhere ahead of her having fun and she set back off for the crowded square to meet back up with them. 

#critical role #Imodna #Imogen Temult #Laudna #c3 ep77 #cr spoilers #sort of #fanfic #it’s a little guy