#18 and 19 don’t change much in the long run and both are just fucking kids to me

[mcmeasle]

me every time I remember that Jean is only 19 and just a fucking kid

[megamindsecretlair]

Wrong For It

Pairing: Toxic!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Corruption kink if you squint. ONE SHOT.

Summary: Follower Celebration: You voted for Slice of Life with a Toxic Tyrone! While hanging out with your best friend, her big brother Tyrone comes home unexpectedly. You've had a terrible crush on him for as long as you could remember. You're both a little tipsy and feeling each other. You absolutely shouldn't....right?

Word Count: 6,014k

A/N: Happy Follower Celebration!!!!! It's because of YOU that I've enjoyed (19!!!!) Tyrone fics! Not including the multiple parts. I've written sweet, toxic, disrespectful, AU, and spooky Tyrone fics and ya'll still want more! I LOVE YA'LL FRFR!!!! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Special, special shout out to @planetblaque! I could NOT have finished this without you, ILY!!! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90 @harmshake @sageispunk @ciaqui

“Girl, you never want to hang at my place anymore,” your best friend, Camille, said. 

You sighed and switched your phone to your other ear, grateful that she can’t see your guilty eye roll. “That’s not true, I was just over there…” You trailed off, trying to think of when you were last over there.

Fourth of July. She had a small party, which of course meant that everybody and they mama was invited. It was easy to disappear during the party. Easy to dodge Tyrone, her brother. He wasn’t a bad guy, he was just the neighborhood fuck boy and you had a terrible crush on him.

You’d known Camille and Tyrone all their lives, having grown up right next door to them. You never stood a chance when it came to what type of guy you were interested in. Camille spent many a day complaining about her annoying older brother and how women always tried to be nice to her in order to get to him.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that during puberty, when you really started to notice boys, you had the misfortune of seeing Tyrone workout with his shirt off. Your summers were spent looking out of your bedroom window and into their backyard where he often hung out with friends. The no shirt/black shorts/towel hanging out of his back pocket combo unlocked something in you. 

You’d been changed. Altered. The fabric of your mind had been ripped apart and you spent the rest of your days trying to find someone who held a candle to Tyrone. None ever did. 

“That’s right, yo bitch ass don’t even remember when. Please? I got the house to myself for once,” Camille said. 

You sighed through your nose and looked at your phone. It was late in the afternoon and you didn’t have anything to do. Still. There was always the possibility of running into Tyrone. 

“You sure you got the house to yourself?” You asked.

“Yes! Now come on! We can make fun of that new movie on Netflix,” she said. 

“Let me get decent and I’ll be over,” you said. You held the phone away from your ear as Camille squealed loud enough to be heard around the corner. 

“Bring snacks!” She said. She signed off and you groaned, flopping back onto your bed. You were an adult. Tyrone came home later and later and sometimes not at all. He was either lamped up with his latest conquest or he was out selling weed. He still sold premium shit compared to the shops and you had no idea where he got it from. 

You got yourself together and raided your pantry for your favorite snacks. Chips, cookies, and pieces of candy. You were going to have a terrible sugar rush but fuck it, it was the weekend. 

Soon, you were locking your door behind you and crossing the dry lawn towards Camille’s house. You checked her driveway. There was only her busted Toyota Camry out front. You could breathe easier. Eventually, you’d have to get over him. Eventually, you’d have to stop letting your avoidance of him get in the way of your friendship with Camille. You just needed more time.

You shivered with the roaring wind outside. You hadn’t expected to go to her place tonight and you were comfortable in the heated house with your shorts, long sleeved shirt, and fuzzy socks. Outside though, you were exposed to the elements. Once it dropped below 70 in LA, it was freezing.

Camille finally opened the door, her deep ebony skin almost a match for her brother’s. She had thick, curled hair that was tied up into a high ponytail at the moment. She wore a tie-dye graphic tee with the sleeves cut off and gray joggers.

She squealed when she saw you and threw her arms around you, pulling you into a big hug. You giggled and braced yourself from the added weight of her. “You act like I died,” you said.

“I thought you did. How you still live next door and I, like, never see you unless we go out?” She asked. She took some of the snacks from your hands and let you into the house. You followed behind her, closing and locking the door, and moved into the living room. Since no one was there, you had the chance to watch TV on the big screen. 

You always loved being at their house. It wasn’t much. And it was just as grungy as your place growing up, but it was clean and full of love. Their mom was like a second mom to you, always making sure you were fed and gave you dolls on your birthdays. 

Camille already had an assortment of liquor lined up on the table like you were pre-gaming back during your clubbing days. “Damn girl,” you said, noticing it. 

Camille dumped the snacks onto the table and grinned at you. “Been so damn long, I forgot what you drink!” 

“Stop. We talk all the time,” you said.

Camilled sat down on the brown, weathered couch with a big sigh. She avoided looking at you and picked at something on the cushion. “Don’t feel like it, is all,” she said.

Shit. Now you were feeling guilty. You sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug. “I just been busy at work, bestie. I’m sorry I’ve been MIA,” you said.

She grinned and shrugged. “I get it. Work is a bitch! Now let’s get drunk like we used to!” 

You shook your head and again, something was telling you to throw caution to the wind. Before long, she was queuing up a movie on Netflix. She popped the top to the tequila and lined up two shots for you and two for her. 

You both shot it back, howling at the burn of alcohol. “Gahh damn!” You said when your throat calmed down enough. 

“Woo! Shall we play a game?” Camille lowered her voice and waggled her eyebrows. You laughed and shoved her away.

“The last time we played one of your drinking games, I was up till 3am puking my guts out!” 

“That was on me. We probably shouldn’t have taken a shot every time that man licked his lips. Trevante is sex on a stick!” Camille said and cackled. 

The sweet burn of alcohol dropped to your stomach and warmed you up from the inside out. You only shook your head and agreed. 

Soon, you both were falling back into your normal routine. You laughed, made fun of the trash ass movie, and drank and ate your way through the night. You yawned for the tenth time in as many minutes. Fuck, you missed this. You missed hanging with your best friend. 

Guilt wrapped an icy tentacle around your gut. It was your fault that you hadn’t had many times to unwind and catch up with your bestie. You had been so focused on work, so focused on keeping your mind busy, that you hadn’t realized just how long it’s been. 

You vowed to change it. You were not going to let some man get in the way of your friendship. No matter how fine he was.

Camille’s soft snores made you turn towards her. You giggled and shook your head. She always fell asleep first. And she fell hard. It would take an earthquake to wake her up. And even then, you both were desensitized by them by now. The rough rocking was akin to being rocked as a baby at this point.

You were sleepy but not ready to fall asleep just yet. You decided to help her clean, not wanting to be a pig in someone else’s house, best friend or not. You swept up crumbs, wrappers, and carried shot glasses over to the kitchen. Fuck. Everything was still familiar to you.

The light over the stove was on so you didn’t turn on the overhead lights. An ache beat in your head and you didn’t need the extra tension. The kitchen had peeling sky blue paint, tile countertop, and there were clean cups and bills overtaking the counter top. 

You hummed slightly as you cleaned up, knowing exactly where they kept everything. You set the shot glasses upside down on the drying mat. The humming was just loud enough to not hear the door open and close. Or hear someone approaching behind you.

The circle of arms around your waist made you squeal in fear and tense up, throwing your elbow behind you. You connected with something soft but solid, and there was a tiny “oomf”. 

You moved away and turned around, chest on fire. You held up your hands. You couldn’t fight worth a damn but whoever it was didn’t need to know that.

“Damn girl, watch where you throwing them elbows!” Tyrone groaned, rubbing his stomach.

“Tyrone?” You asked.

Tyrone winked at you and smiled. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. It took a few, deep breaths for your body to catch up to the fact that you weren’t in danger. Not physical danger anyway. You placed your hand over your heart and the rapid thumbs began to slow down. 

Tyrone leaned back against the counter and shoved his hands into his oatmeal colored hoodie. He wore a matching beanie and the hood was pulled up, hiding his beautiful hair that he lovingly took care of. You were brought back to plenty of days spent on their porch while Camille braided his hair and he talked shit. 

He considered himself an expert on relationships, despite never really being in one, and he never wasted an opportunity to educate you on men. He always told you that niggas weren’t shit and you were better off getting in, getting off, and getting out. 

Tyrone licked his lips and looked over your body, tilting his head. He grinned as he did so and you suddenly felt naked. Like he stripped you with his eyes and you were now exposed. Of course, it only got you thinking about being naked with him. Of being underneath him while he did all kinds of nasty shit to you. 

You cleared your throat, thankful that your rich brown skin didn’t show when you were embarrassed or flustered. The tips of your ears did burn something fierce though. “What are you doing here?” You crossed your arms. You sounded a little breathy, but that was okay. You were still trying to calm down from being scared.

“Live here,” he said. 

You sighed. Yes, you walked into that one. “Camille said you were gone tonight,” you said.

“Decided to come home early. Guess I just knew that yo pretty ass was in my kitchen,” he said.

No, no, that did not make your stomach flutter. That did not have an answering throb in your pussy. You shifted from one foot to the other, nails digging into your sides. 

“More like you got in a fight with your latest squeeze,” you said. You huffed a laugh, trying to break the sudden tension. Their kitchen wasn’t that big and Tyrone had a habit of making it seem like he was the only person in the room. He approached you, getting into your personal space. You tried to lean back, but your back was already against the counter.

Tyrone’s eyes were at half mast, likely high. He shifted closer until you were nearly chest to chest. He leaned down. Your lips parted. What was happening right now? Was he going to kiss you? Right now? Right here? With Camille in the next room? 

He reached out his hand and you did your best to prepare. You pinched your side. Were you really going to let this man kiss you? 

He reached next to you and grabbed one of the shot glasses you just cleaned off. He grinned. “Jealous?” He asked. He moved away, opening a small pantry next to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of Hennessy. 

“No,” you scoffed, injecting enough venom in your voice to fell an elephant. Your chest hurt for entirely different reasons now, a type of burning working its way through your lungs. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to slap that smug grin off of his face. 

“Who still says ‘squeeze’? When did you turn into an old lady?” He asked. He poured himself a shot and knocked it back. You were a fool but you watched the way his throat worked down the liquid. You wanted to lick him. Wanted to plant your nose right at the hollow of his throat and kiss him. 

You rubbed your head and moved away from the sink. “I’ve always been an old soul,” you tossed over to him as you passed him. He tugged on your long-sleeved navy shirt, pulling you back into the kitchen.

“Hol’ up, where you going? Shit, I ain’t seen you in a cool minute,” he said. 

You shrugged out of his embrace and refolded your arms. As long as you had a barrier against Tyrone, he couldn’t see how fast you were breathing. You were thankful for the low light as well. That he couldn’t see the way you followed his every move. That your eyes darted to his lips whenever he spoke. 

 “I been around,” you said and shrugged. 

“Naw, you were, like, always over here. Then you up and dipped, what’s that about?” He asked. He poured himself another shot and knocked it back, eyeing you over the rim. You held eye contact for a beat, perhaps two, before grinning and shrugging once more.

“Been busy. Why you giving me the third degree?” You asked.

“Damn, can’t a nigga make conversation?” He asked.

The giggle left you before you had a chance to snatch it back and hold it inside. Giggling would lead to flirting, which would lead to dangerous thoughts. You were a bit tipsy, feeling loose and unencumbered. It was a dangerous position to be in. Especially around Tyrone. 

“I better go wake your sister up before she go looking for me,” you said. You smiled and moved past him once more. Again, he grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you back in front of him.

He invaded your space, moving closer. Close enough to smell the Henny on his breath. “Why you keep trynna escape?” 

“I’m not,” you said. 

“You look too damn good in them shorts,” he said. He tilted his whole body to the side, exaggerating his movements to look at your legs. You laughed and shoved at his shoulder. 

“You need to stop!” You said. Any minute now, Camille was going to wake up. The last thing she needed to see was you flirting with her damn brother in her kitchen. You came over here to hang out with her, not make googly eyes at Tyrone. 

That color looked damn good on him though. It stood stark against his dark skin, but it suited him. It was rare that you saw him in bright colors, and the muted oatmeal color just worked on him. Everything worked on him. He was one of those annoying men that never had a bad day.

“Why I need to stop?” He asked. He straightened up and tugged on the front of your shirt, pulling you closer. You were trying to resist, trying to tug yourself backwards. But he was stronger. He pulled you forward and you braced yourself by grabbing his upper arms. You were chest to chest now, staring up into his dark eyes. 

“You’re Camille’s brother,” you whispered. 

“You’re Camille’s best friend. Fuck that mean?” He asked. 

You grinned but immediately squashed it, poking the sides of your cheek with your tongue. You mentally slapped yourself, knowing full well you should not be enjoying this. Should not enjoy the way he grinned slowly, hand still clutching your shirt to keep you in front of him. Like he wanted you there.

“Tyrone…”

“Shhh,” he said. He licked his lips and leaned forward, rubbing his cheek against yours. You sighed. He had a bit of prickly stubble there and it felt good against your smooth skin. He kissed your cheek. “Let me kiss you.” 

You shook your head, looking down at his hand on your shirt. “We shouldn’t…”

“You say ‘should or shouldn’t’ one more time and I’ma kiss you anyway,” he said.

You shook your head, looking back up at him. “Tyrone, Camille will kill us,” you whispered.

“All you gotta say is that you don’t wanna kiss me. You just keep giving me bullshit excuses,” he said.

“Fine, I don’t wanna kiss you,” you said.

“Bullshit,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed you anyway. You squealed and gripped his arms harder, intent on pushing him away. But his lips were warm and wet. Sexy. He kissed like he walked; lazy, smooth, in control. 

The kiss made your pussy flutter, growing wetter by the second. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. It was like you weren’t close enough or something because he pushed you against the countertop. He ground his hips into yours and you moaned quietly, feeling something hard press into your belly. He grabbed two handfuls of your ass and squeezed.

His tongue explored your mouth, licking along your bottom lip. You hissed and ended on a sigh. When there was a natural break, you took the opportunity to pull back. Tyrone opened his eyes and grinned.

“Tyrone! You know we shouldn’t–”

Tyrone’s lips found yours once more, hands gripping your hips and digging in like he was looking for lost treasure. You moaned, gripping onto him just as hard. You finally got to taste him, that subtle hit of Henny on his breath, and it was everything you pictured it to be. Only better. It was real. It was magical. 

He pulled away and tilted his head at you with a grin. You bit your lip to keep from saying what you should or shouldn’t do. You were torn between two places. On the one hand, you felt so guilty kissing Camille’s brother. Everybody grown, but it still felt taboo. Like you were breaking a sacred girl code. On the other hand, you were selfish and greedy for more.

Tyrone grabbed your hand and began to tug you into the other room. You dug your heels into the hardwood floor, stopping him in his tracks. “What are you doing?” You asked. 

“‘Bout to get into some fun with you,” he said. He winked at you and you rolled your eyes, refusing to let him see how much he was affecting you.

“Oh, no, no, no. A kiss is one thing. I’m not going to your room,” you said. You had to draw the line somewhere. No amount of good dick was going to mess up your friendship. 

Everyone’s had a spin on Tyrone’s dick. And it was just your luck to fall for the resident fuck boy who handed out orgasms like Halloween candy. There had been plenty of times that you and Camille were minding your sweet business when a group of girls would suddenly break out into an argument about who hopped on Tyrone’s dick last. You were not going to add yourself to that long list. 

Tyrone sighed and hung his head, grabbing your hips and pushing you deeper into the kitchen. You were out of sight of the living room by now, but he didn’t stop until you were at the farthest possible point, leaning against the door that led to the side porch. You yelped, not used to being manhandled quite like this. 

Tyrone dropped another kiss to your lips, hands roaming under your shirt and fiddling with the swell of your breasts. You just wanted to point out once more than you were expecting to hang out with your best friend, so no bra was required. 

Tyrone kissed your neck, warm lips pressed to your pulse point. You sighed, gripping the sleeves of his hoodie. He moved one hand lower, reaching under your shorts slowly and giving you enough time to stop him. You didn’t. 

He slipped beneath your panties and he ran his fingers through your wet slit. He hummed in the back of his throat. He kissed his way up to your ear. “I just want a little taste. There’s no harm in that right?” 

You tried to form words to tell him that there was harm. There so was. But then he planted the visual of him tasting you there. You leaned up on your tiptoes the further he explored your damp curls, dipping a long finger into you. You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loud. You were so damn afraid of getting caught that it was a weird mix of fear and arousal that kept you rooted to the spot. 

You wanted to resist him. You wanted to be strong enough to move his hand and keep him wanting more. Instead, all you could do was enjoy his fingers playing with you. “Please? Just a little taste?” He asked.

He lifted your leg to give him better access and your head thunked against the door. He had the perfect mix of pressure and rhythm that it was driving you crazy. Making your knees wobble.

You sighed choppy, breathy sounds and nodded. One little taste wouldn’t hurt that much. He grinned, kissed your ear, and then removed his fingers. He licked them while he looked you in the eye and he moaned around his fingers. 

He grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the kitchen. You tried to tiptoe around a sleeping Camille but Tyrone stomped his way through the living room. Camille snored and jerked in her sleep but made no indication that she was close to waking.

Inside Tyrone’s room, you smelled a subtle weed scent. He closed the door behind you and turned on the light. It only turned on his ceiling fan, so he worked with muted lighting. He tossed off his hoodie and beanie, revealing a plain white shirt underneath. He took that off as well and he wore a white tank underneath.

Fuck, he was so hot. You watched as his arms moved and muscles bunched beneath his skin. He moved a blanket off of his bed and then grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the edge. Before you could sit, Tyrone pulled down the sides of your shorts and revealed your racy underwear. You had plans to wash today and these were all you had in the meantime.

Tyrone grinned. “I like these,” he said. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you groaned. You covered your face, burning cheeks scalding your hands.

“Why not? Been checking you out for a while,” he said.

He ran his fingers along the gusset of your panties and you bit back a moan as his knuckles ran up against your pussy. “Liar,” you sighed.

He grabbed your hand from your face and pulled you forward so that you could cup him through his sweatpants. “This feel like I’m lyin’?” 

Your eyes widened and you lightly shook your head. No, no it did not feel like he was lying. There was still that needling thought though. “Fuck boys aren’t usually picky ‘bout who they get with,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and shook his head. He got to his knees and released your hand. He moved in between your legs, pushing them wider around his broad shoulders. He flipped his hand and started playing with your pussy in earnest. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” he whispered. “You must not be that picky neither then.”

“Maybe I’m just horny,” you said. 

Tyrone chuckled and bit your thigh. You whined, loving the bite of pain. “We gon’ see ‘bout that,” he said. 

He moved your panties to the side and kept eye contact with you for as long as he could. You watched his tongue flick out and push past your pussy lips. You moaned, grabbing onto the back of his head. 

“Mm, don’t you taste so good,” he whispered against your pussy. This was wrong. On so many levels. But you couldn’t resist as he continued to tease you, flattening his tongue against your clit but not moving it. 

Your thighs twitched and tingled, needing him to move or do something besides be evil. You moved your hips, silently pleading with him to get a move on. You whined more, moving your hips. Tyrone chuckled, and sucked on your clit.

“Oh shit!” You said. 

“Impatient ass,” he said. 

He continued to tease, suckle, and please you until you were a whimpering, sopping mess. You’d definitely have to wash these panties immediately. They were soaked with your juices. While making out with your pussy, he pulled your panties in between your pussy lips and pulled. Your pussy lips were wedged on the outside of your panties and you leaned up in time to see a feral look cross Tyrone’s face. 

In all of your fantasies, you never quite imagined him looking so enamored with your body. “Anybody tell you that you got a fat ass pussy?” He asked. 

He licked your pussy through the fabric. All you felt was his hot tongue and your back bent off of the bed with a ragged moan. The edges of his tongue hit your lower lips and you cried out. You were ready to burst. You felt like your bones would melt. 

He moved your panties once more and swirled his tongue in the mess you were making. You licked your lips and looked at him. He was focused on some type of demon time you weren’t privy to. 

Right when you were feeling the beginnings of your orgasm, Tyrone pulled away. You huffed and got to your elbows to glare at him. He only grinned. “You said I could have a taste right?” 

You coughed and sputtered as a hundred sentences tried to leave your mouth at once. “You better not leave me like this,” you said. 

“If I did?” Tyrone asked. He tilted his head and looked at you, all hint of playfulness gone. He…wasn’t serious, was he? You stared at him and he stared at you. You were sure that if this were a meme, you’d be laughing your ass off but this was far from funny. You were unbearably wet and uncomfortable, and you needed relief now. 

“I’ll finish myself off, then,” you said. Your hands moved to your pussy so that you could get yourself off. Not like you hadn’t had plenty of practice getting yourself there. Fuck him. Sex god, pft. What a joke. You finally got a chance to hop on community dick and all he was interested in was fucking with you. 

This, you would take to your grave. You’d never fess up to this embarrassing shit. Your fingers barely grabbed your panties to move them when he grabbed your wrist painfully. You cried out and looked up at him. 

“Don’t you ever try to get yourself off when I’m standing right here,” he said in a near growl, voice low and his lip curling in absolute disgust at the thought. 

“But–” 

“I asked you a question. I ain’t say you can play with yourself,” he said. 

You gulped and sank back onto the bed. He released your wrist, tossing it away from him. It flopped onto the bed. You stared wild eyed at Tyrone, not understanding what the fuck was going on. Mark you down as scared and turned on. 

He pulled roughly at your panties, tearing them down your legs with an excited rush. Your body twisted as you wiggled your thick legs out of them. Next went your shirt and his eyes widened seeing your titties. 

He palmed them briefly, testing the weight between his hands and grinning. Then he tugged down his own sweats, freeing his dick. Shit. He was so big. Huge. He lowered his pants just enough to be able to move and then he was leaning forward, running his dick through your folds to get him nice and wet. 

“Ty-”

“Shh, I’m gon’ fit, don’t worry,” he said.

You turned your head to the side, not able to stand him. “Look at me,” he said. 

You shook your head. If you looked at him, you’d lose your damn mind. “Look at me,” he commanded, voice deeper. 

You whined and looked at him. He ain’t even do nothing yet! You only hoped that it wasn’t so obvious that you’d been in love with him forever. That he couldn’t read it all over your face. Surely, you could have this one night. This one night to torture yourself with for the next fifty years as you tried to find a suitable replacement for him. 

“I finally get in this pussy and I want you to see me do it,” he said. 

You nodded. “I see you,” you whispered. 

He placed one hand near your head to steady himself and then slowly pushed inside you. You cried out, back twisting, and he cooed at you. “You can take me,” he said. It was a matter of fact for him. Not up for debate. He said you can take him and so your body welcomed him eagerly. 

He worked his tip in and you pushed against his chest. He was too much. “I ain’t even in yet, gorgeous,” he said. 

“Too much…” you cried. 

“No, it’s not,” he said. He slowly worked himself inside, pushing deeper and deeper until you were full of his dick. He adjusted himself before moving his hand to push down on your stomach. 

Air whooshed out of you. You felt him from both sides. How did that feel so damn good? He worked his hips, giving you deep and long strokes that made you see the heavens and the earth. 

“That’s right, open up this pussy for me,” he groaned.

He leaned down over you and suckled a nipple into his mouth. Your knees pressed against his waist, pushed back by the sheer size of him. You gasped and sighed in tandem with his strokes. It was like he was feeding you the air you needed and taking it away. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Shh, we ain’t wanna wake Camille,” he said. He pulled on your nipple with his lips and you whined, slapping at his shoulders. 

“That hurts!” You cried. 

He only licked away the sting and did the same to your other nipple. “Shit, shit,” you said and slapped at his shoulders again. He licked all around your areola and sighed, fanning his warm breath across your wet nipple.

“Next time, I’ma tie yo ass up,” he said. 

“Next time!” You squealed. 

He thrusted and hit a sweet spot deep inside. You croaked, eyes rolling into the back of your head. It was like he hit a reset button. He hit it again and again until you were screaming and crying, twitching on his dick with the force of your orgasm. 

“I’m stretching this pussy out, huh?” He asked.

Your mouth worked but you couldn’t make any kind of coherent word come out. You could only hiss and moan with every deep stroke. “Sh–, sh–.” 

“Got this dick all up in yo stomach,” he said.

You jerked and twisted on your way down from an intense orgasm. Tyrone grinned. “Oue, give me another one.”

You hiccuped and shook your head. You couldn’t give him another one. You were only allowed one reset per day, right? 

Tyrone grabbed your ankles and straightened your legs out. He stood up and placed your legs on his shoulders. He kissed your ankle, rubbing the arch in your foot. Your back arched and your mouth dropped open. 

“Ohh, I hit a good spot,” he moaned. He increased his pace. At this angle, he felt bigger. He felt close. Like he truly was digging your stomach out. He adjusted his hips, pushing your thighs against your stomach.

Your hand flew to his arms, trying to push him away. “Why you trynna escape? Huh?” 

“Too. Much,” you said. 

“Aw, my dick too much?” He asked.

You looked at him and nodded. Yes, it was too much. You weren’t used to accommodating someone of his size.

“This dick too much? You sure? ‘Cause I feel pretty good fuckin’ you,” he said, continuing to pound into you. He was relentless, taking pleasure from your body any way he could get it. 

Tyrone licked his thumb and rubbed circles around your clit. Your eyes rolled back, seeing the depth of the universe behind your lids as you came once more.

“There it is, don’t that feel so good? Ain’t you needed that?” Tyrone pulled your legs apart so that he could look at you more clearly. He rutted into you a few more times before he pulled out and fisted his dick, stroking furiously and cumming with the most beautiful, pained expression on his face.

The moan that escaped him was low, guttural. The hot splashes of his cum painted a pretty picture on your stomach. You looked down to stare at that particular artwork. 

Tyrone dropped your legs around his hips and panted. He dug his phone out of his pocket and took a quick picture.

“What the fuck, Tyrone!” You yelled.

Tyrone grinned and put his phone away. “Don’t worry, I won’t show nobody,” he said. “Need something to get off to until I get in this pussy again.”

Your mind went blank trying to comprehend what the fuck he just said. He moved away and cleaned himself off with a red towel that was draped over his chair. He left the room and returned with a wash rag, cleaning his cum from your skin. You were still trying to compute that he wanted to do this again.

“We can’t do this again, Ty,” you said. You got up and found your shirt, pulling it over your head. You fished around his room for your panties. The floor was clean so where…?

Tyrone cleared his throat and held your panties and tiny shorts in his hand. He held it out to you and you reached to snatch it from him. He lifted it above you, way out of reach, and leaned down.

“Give me a kiss before you escape,” he said.

“Ty, no! Give me my panties!” You wanted to shout, but you were ever cautious about waking Camille. Oh god. You weren’t exactly quiet here. Did she hear? Was she outside his door fuming? 

Tyrone turned his cheek towards you and waited. You rolled your eyes and pecked him on the cheek. “Now the other side,” he said. He turned his other cheek towards you. A laugh escaped you and you huffed with the effort of trying to pull his arm down. He wouldn’t budge. So you sighed and kissed his other cheek. 

He slowly brought your clothes back down. You looked up so he was able to swoop in and steal a kiss. He grinned as he pulled back. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said.

You snatched your clothes and hurriedly put them on while Tyrone stared at you. He was so annoying! And you just had sex with him. Amazing, mind-blowing sex but still. 

Dressed, you pushed away from a laughing Tyrone and back into the living room. You sat on the couch and accidentally bumped into Camille. She yawned and stretched out on the couch. “Damn, how long we been asleep?” 

“I don’t know. I think Netflix was watching us for a minute,” you said. You chewed on your nail. You were so sure that she’d read it all over you.

“You cool to stay over like always. I’m taking my ass to my bed,” she said. She yawned again and got up from the couch, tapping your shoulder and headed towards her room. You stared at the light under Tyrone’s door and let your mind wander. 

Ultimately, you followed Camille to crash in her bed like old times.

Lordy! Yes, I said 19! You can find them all here! The Secret Tyrone Files

[taiiunknown]

❤️LOVE AND AFFECTION 😫

RiRiXReader 🫶🏽

Summary: y/n and her bestfriend goes to this cool party bc that’s all they have been doing ever since they got to college, Y/n and RiRi run into each other a hit off and end the night off very well…

Warning: Drugs/Alcohol, flirting, cussing,pet names,a little smut,fluff .

Btw I got this idea while I was listening to love and affection by Rihanna and future sooo…ya 😭❤️

It was a normal Day At MIT I honestly got here on a cool scholarship since I won this robotics competition in highschool, and for me being a pretty girl I had a good little amount of nerd in me . I’m a freshman in college so the only person I know her really is a couple people but I mostly be with my best friend (Gia) Me and Gia been friends for the absolute longest so I really claimed her as my little sister and she claimed me as her big sis since I’m one year older than her . Im 19 and Gia is 18 and something very opposite of us is that I’m more of the mean one and Gia is the nice one.

Luckily both of us had got paired for the same dorm which why for the last couple of months we been going to parties non stop !

It was this party tonight that had me and Gia excited for it because we both bought these cute outfits that we have been dying to wear !!

(Gia outfit is pic 2). (Y/n outfit is pic 1 )

After leaving our dorms we begin to head to the party bc we just felt like it was time to leave due to it being 10:00 pm

*19 minutes later*

When we arrived all we seen was the mansion having lights coming out of it and hearing ( Swimming pools- Kendrick Lamar)

“OOOH THIS MY SHIT!” I said dancing while walking towards the drinks

“ITS TIME TO GET FUCKED UP!!!” Gia screamed while following behind me, me and Gia took a total of 5 shots separately bc we really wanted to have a amazing night . “Ima be right back Gia I’m going to the restroom,okay ?” I said slurring a little “okay ! Im finna go flirt with dee he been staring at me since I got here” Gia said giggling a little.

(I like tuh ~ carnage)

“I like to make money”

“Get turnt”

The song change with ease as I hear people yelling the lyrics, I begin having to go all the way upstairs to get to a open bathroom bc people was either making out or doing drugs in the down stairs ones. When I got to the top it was crowded with people grinding on each other and a line for the bathroom, I took matters into my own hands and just begin to walk into one of the rooms bc I know it’s bathrooms in the rooms. When I opened one of the doors I begin to walk in and see a girl who sitting on the bed rolling up “oh- IM SO SORRY I WAS JUST LOOKING FOR A FREE BATHROOM!” I say hurriedly walking back out the door “WAIT!” The girl say “come here..” she says and I obey bc believe or not I found her very attractive and was kinda weak in the knees for her “yes?” I said innocently “you can go ahead I don’t live here my friend does and he let me come in his room to chill for a minute” she says cooly “cool,thank you so much!” I say running to the bathroom bc I really had to pee

*3 minutes later*

I walked out the bathroom now seeing her blowing smoke out of her nose “do you mind if I hit that?” I say sweetly “Ya,ya here.” She says

I take a little hit of the blunt then passing it back,

“What’s your name baby ?” She says lowly which kinda made my cookie jump “umm..y/n, What about you ?” I say kinda blushing “RiRi,RiRi Williams” she says with a grin then taking another hit of her blunts.

“Well..nice to meet you, and thank you again.” I said slowly walking back to the door, “nice to meet you too,pretty!” RiRi said blowing smoke 💨.when I left out I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in for so long, I don’t know it was something about RiRi that kinda got me aroused she was just so chill and how she was eyeing me kinda made me weak in the knees.

After a couple of hours me and Gia got drunk some more and begin to give hella people lap dances mostly out friends, let’s just say we are the life of every party. As I was twerking and I mean just showing out I felt hands hold on to my waist while I grind to the music , all I heard was “omg” and “OOP”’s in the background I didn’t even bother to look back till Gia came up to me and the random person and was like “okay Y/n,don’t brain wash this one” she said while giggling after she said that I looking back and seen the one and only RIRI WILLIAMS I instantly thought to stop grinding on her but instead I grabbed her hand and held them as I kept grinding till the song sadly ended. After the dance me and RiRi started talking a little even though I was totally wasted,in the middle of the convo I literally had to run back up to restroom in the bedroom to throw up. Not even noticing RiRi watching me all I heard was “Let it out pretty, I’m finna go get you some water so stay right here.” She said in demanding voice I sat on the bathroom floor tryna recover everything that just happened when I hear RiRi coming back with a water bottle, “here drink this.” She said, I took the water bottle and drink a little bit of it then gave it back to her, “Can you take me back to my dorm ?” I asked RiRi kinda slurring over my words “ye ma, give me a sec to find your Gia” she said finna walk off to leave “-WAIT ! How do you know Gia ?” I asked confused bc I literally know everyone Gia knows “Me and Gia have class together and she kinda talk about you a lot so when I heard you tell me your name I automatically knew you.” She said with a flirty grin on her face “oh.” I croaked out then leaning back over the toilet bc I had to puke again. “I will be right back !drink that fucking water!!” RiRi yelled while running out the room to go find Gia. In the front seat of RiRi car all I hear is Gia drunk talking to RiRi about me “Tai is available you know ?” Gia said grinning “G! Why would you say that?” I asked while holding my head bc it was hurting really bad “it’s ok,Mami she just being supportive” RiRi said grabbing my chin so I can look at her “ya,MAMI!” Gia mimicked drunkly. RiRi just laughed at Gia bickering till we got back to the dorm halls “COME ON SO I CAN PUT YALL TO BED!” RiRi shouted so we can walk faster and we did bc we kinda got scared. When we made it inside me and Gia dorm RiRi helped each of us to our beds even though she kinda had to struggle to get Gia to lay down, when she finally did she closed Gia door and came towards me who kinda sobered up, “I’m sorry you got to handle us like this” I said kinda frowning bc it was kinda embarrassing “It’s cool ma,I rather it be me getting you and gia home then a creep” she said slowly taking me towards my room, RiRi sat me on my bed and started to take off my shoes, she then walked towards my closet to find me a t-shirt to change in. “Change into this” she said lowly handing me a t-shirt and some shorts, RiRi stepped out the room while I changed. I peeped my head out my door “RiRi I’m done.” I said “ok you need anything else before I go ?” She said, I said nothing just grabbed her by her arm and began kissing her in the messiest way as possible, after that RiRi close my room door closed while I’m now kissing her neck “Fuck baby” RiRi moaned while leading me to my bed, with out think I took off my shit knowing I didn’t have my bra on and straddled her lap while she sitting on my bed “Wait- Are you sure ?” RiRi asked looking at me cautiously “yes trust me if I didn’t want to do this I wouldn’t have kept grinding on you at the party.” I said smiling bc ever since I first seen her all I thought about was how she would look in between my legs

GETS A LITTLE RATED R RIGHT HERE 🫢…

“FUCK! RIRI RIGHT THERE DADDY!!” I moaned as RiRi was 3 fingers feel into my cunt, “you like that Mami? Huh?” She asked kissing my neck “ye-” I couldn’t even finish my word as I felt my stomach squeezing a little knowing I was so close “cum for me,Ma” RiRi whispered in my ear going faster “FUCK !” I screamed while cumming all over her fingers and panting heavily, “Yes,Good girl” RiRi said lowly “open your legs for me so I can taste you” RiRi said hungrily, “Shit” I whispered as RiRi swirls her tongue in my leaking hole “you taste so good y/n” RiRi moaned. “SHITTTT RIRI” I screamed as she literally rode her clit against mines in a ungodly pace “fuck you’re so wet !” RiRi moaned out loud “cum with me baby” RiRi said while grabbing my neck and speeding up faster “FU-” we both screamed as we came at the same time.

Ok it’s the end of the Rated R scenes 💀

After RiRi fucked the shit out of me for literally a hour she ran to the bathroom to turn on the shower,we showered together than after that I gave her a shirt and a pair of my basket ball shorts that I stole from my ex that she would never know of.we both layed in my bed cuddling a bit when we heard someone approached my room door “WAS YALL JUST FUCKING ?!!” Gia shouted from behind my door, “NO!” I shouted back while looking at RiRi who was now laughing “STOP LYING I HEARD YOU CAN RIRI “DADDY” 5 times” she laughed out now walking back to her room. “At least she knows who your daddy is now.” RiRi said laughing “Fuck you both” I said playfully shoving her shoulder “me and you already fucked now you want to fuck Gia?” RiRi asked with a smirk “Go to sleep.” I said laying down on her chest .

THE END !🙂

[buckys-black-dress]

Hey! Could you use either prompt 2, 19, 30 or 32 for any Bucky?? Love your writing!

blazing sun

a/n: thank you for this lovely request! i chose prompt 30 from this list, which is "I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would even notice." i loved writing this! plz send any and all requests you have <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo, ali :)

warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex in public. if you are under 18, SWIPE OFF.

wc: 1.4k

[ bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

-

This vacation was supposed to be relaxing. A break from all the hard work you do as Avengers, and all that.

But what you didn't realize when you booked a one-week trip to California with you super beefy super soldier boyfriend, was that he was absolutely insatiable.

He wanted it all. The. Time.

And no, you would never be upset with Bucky for wanting to have sex, because he was very, very well-endowed and he always made sure your pleasure was a priority.

But there were times where you felt like it was getting to a bit... too much?

First, it was the small room in the quaint beachside house you had rented. You reckon Bucky had fucked you senseless on every single surface in the house.

"C'mon, doll. You know how I get, and on that long flight all I could think about fuckin' you in the bathroom. But there were kids right by there, and I didn't know if I could be quiet while I was balls-deep in that tight pussy of yours." He smirked, a hand tracing up your thigh while you placed your bag down on the floor.

"How about we head to our room first and get started there, yeah?" You had suggested while you gently walked out of his grasp, waiting for him to follow you into the bedroom.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea how bad I'm gonna wreck ya. Gonna have you screamin' on my cock for the next seven days, sweetheart."

And that was the start of it. And once Bucky started, he did not stop.

You were laid on a towel while trying to get a bit of a tan, letting the sound of the ocean relax you.

Behind you was the set-up of the chairs and umbrella you two had brought with you. Bucky was perched on his chair, watching you read the book you'd also brought along.

"Baby, c'mere for a sec?" His rough voice broke you out of the trance from your reading, snapping your head towards him.

"Something wrong, honey?" You inquire, sitting up in your spot.

"Oh, yeah, just need help with somethin' for a minute over here." Bucky responds. While you brush off the sand while standing up, you miss the smirk that paints his face.

"What's up?" You ask while standing in front of him.

All of a sudden, you feel two hands grasping your hips, pulling you down onto his lap.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" You grit out, wondering what the hell was going on with this man?

"I need you, sweetheart." He simply murmurs, his mouth already making headway up the expanse of your neck.

"We- we're on the beach? In public?" You say, more like ask because you're so confused about the way he's acting right now.

"Baby, I can speak at least six languages, but I don't know how else to tell you that I wanna fuck you, right here, right now." His tone becomes even darker and gravelly, making a shiver run up your spine and your thighs clench together.

And of course, Bucky notices. Because Bucky Barnes doesn't let anything slip through the cracks.

"I've never done anything like... that in public before, baby." You tell him in a hushed tone. Sometimes Bucky loved the way you got shy and demure, only for him to fuck the absolute daylights out of you.

"I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would even notice." He whispers with another devious smirk that means nothing but trouble.

"I- Are you sure?"

"Yes, honey. Trust me, I've got ya. When have I ever let you down?" He asks, already adjusting you on his lap into an appropriate position.

You had both legs on either side of him, and while you had minor things obstructing the view of your lower halves on the (thankfully) not crowded beach, your heart rate was through the roof.

Both in arousal and fear of getting caught.

"Well, there was that one time..." You joke, abruptly stopping when you feel his cool, metal fingers run through your folds.

You let out a shaky breath, waiting to feel the way his fingers fill you up, but instead you just shift upwards and feel his thickness fill you right away.

"Oh- Oh my god, Bucky." Your grip on his shoulders was straining, feeling him fill you to the brim.

"Thas' it, take it all, baby." He returns, leaving marks along your chest right in front of him.

You let out another shaky, quiet moan while you feel him thrust upwards just the slightest bit, but it was enough to make your eyes roll back.

"Know just how ya like it, don't I, angel?" Bucky hums in your ear, moving at a slow but consistent pace inside you.

You give him an almost imperceptible nod, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his cock brushing up against your g-spot.

"Fuck, look at me, baby. Look into my eyes when I make you come." He demands, and who are you to deny him?

Your eyes somehow remain open, and through the fog of having him so deep inside you, you feel the coil building up inside of you quickly.

"H-Honey, I'm gonna come." You breathe out between your quivering breaths, feeling how Bucky's pace becomes a touch quicker, and seeing his jaw set as he makes you his mission.

Making you come, that is.

"C'mon, baby, give it t'me," he gives you a few more thrusts while you bounce on him, all the while keeping eye contact with him.

He knows you've finally snapped when you still on top of him, trying to close your legs around his hips. You're holding onto him for dear life, biting your lip to avoid making any noise.

"Fuck, angel, squeezin' me so damn tight," Bucky's words echo through your empty mind while you feel him stop his movements, and his white seed painting your walls.

While you move your face into the crook of his neck, his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against his warm body.

"God, ain't nobody like you, doll." He laughs, placing a kiss at the top of your head while you nuzzle further into his neck.

"Well, I never thought I'd get railed in broad daylight on the beach by my super soldier boyfriend, but I guess lots of things change over the years." You coyly reply, hearing Bucky's chest vibrate underneath you while he laughs.

"Well, there's no one else I'd rather fuck on the beach than you, doll."

"I don't think you care where you fuck me, as long as you get your dick inside me at some point or another." You giggle while moving up to meet his eyes again.

Bucky slowly lifts you up to pull his softening cock out of you, gently tucking himself back into his swim trunks.

He watches intently while his cum leaks out of you, slowly dripping down your thighs.

You catch what he's watching so carefully, face burning in embarrassment.

"Bucky, you made such a mess." You whine, but your sentence trails off when you see his fingers move down to your core. Bucky uses his flesh hand to scoop some of his seed onto his fingers, and brings them to your mouth.

As the words die on your tongue, you taste his salty cum instead.

"Mmm. Taste good, angel?" He hums with a dirty smile.

"Why don't you find out yourself?" You tease, feeling a bit bold.

While one of Bucky's eyebrows shoots up at your words, he doesn't take much time to think before he leans in and captures your lips in his.

His tongue prods into your mouth, exploring it and tasting every inch of what you had to offer.

"I was right. We taste delicious." Bucky winks, and you lean in once more for a sweet peck.

"I love you so much, Bucky. There's no one else I could ever do any of... this with other than you." You brush your fingers through his sandy hair, admiring the man under you with a soft smile.

"God, doll, ain't nobody that could ever have me wrapped around their little finger like you do." He tells you sincerely, gazing into your soul. He punctuates the sweet words with a kiss on your nose, making you scrunch it up.

And this moment was when you realized, this was paradise. This is the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Right here, under the California sun, you finally felt... whole.

[weasleylangs]

secrets i have held in my heart - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Everyone in the twins’ lives mix them up once in a while, except for Y/N. Fred is dying to know how.  Warnings: Some angst with a happy ending, yes I wrote oblivious Fred again with miscommunication issues, what about it, some swearing, brief mention of the war but obviously this is a FredLives!AU :D, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive it’s like one line, - everyone is 18+ by the way!  Word Count: 4k

A/N: For the anon who requested super secret mutual pining with some angst where the reader is the only person who can tell the twins apart! Thank you so much for requesting. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 (frederickweasleys) as per the anon’s request! 

Also, I didn’t want to write about a 17 and 15 year old pining after each other, so I made everyone older and it’s postwar, however I was like 2000 words into the fic when I remembered George got his mf ear blasted off in DH so…. U do not see that it’s not canon in this fic thank you

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

The sun is blaring down on The Burrow and everyone is starting to wonder the likelihood of getting heatstroke. They’re in the south-west of England and the weather doesn’t usually get above the early 20s in the middle of August, however, mother nature has decided to wreak havoc and today is almost 30°. 

Y/N is looking at the pages in her book but she’s not processing anything on the pages. She’s so appreciative of the relaxing life she and all her loved ones finally have. The war ended last year, and while Y/N isn’t family, Molly and Arthur are always insistent she’s welcomed at The Burrow for their Sunday roast dinners. 

So she sits under a tree, the muggle fantasy novel in hand as Molly is busy prepping dinner and her friends all play quidditch. Hermione’s been refereeing them despite having no actual knowledge of the rules, and right now, she’s waving Harry’s copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ at one of the twins trying to prove a point, fully aware she’s going to get nowhere with him. He’s laughing at her and he raises the hand holding the beater’s bat as he threatens to (softly) hit her with it when he looks over her shoulder and spots his favourite girl perched under the tree with his mum’s homemade lemonade. 

Before Y/N knows it, the bat’s been thrown in her direction, barely missing her and hitting the tree behind her, and when she looks up, she immediately recognises the twin as Fred. Fred and Y/N are almost two sides of the same coin and their friendship has always been considered unlikely. Fred loves mischief and pranks and he’s extremely exuberant where Y/N is a ‘stickler for the rules’ (Fred’s words, not hers) and she’d much rather spend her day reading than playing quidditch. But their friendship blossomed and eventually for Y/N her feelings evolved into more. 

But Y/N is one of Ron’s best friends, and having a crush on her best friend’s older brother is weird, even if they are 19 and 21. 

“Hi Freddie,” she says, dog-earing the page and closing her novel, accepting now that Fred’s in her presence, the book isn't getting read again until tonight, “no more quidditch?” 

The ginger gives her a shit-eating grin and completely ignores her question, “Darling, I’m George.” 

Y/N squints at him for a brief moment, second-guessing herself but the longer she looks at him the more she’s sure it’s Fred, not George in front of her. “No, you’re Fred. I’ve known you for how long? Just accept I can tell you apart.” 

Fred mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath as he sits down. He’s always loved that Y/N is the only person who can tell them apart, his own family struggling sometimes and especially when they’re apart. But no matter what, she somehow gets it right every single time and he’s dying to know how.

“You’re never going to tell me how you do it, are you?” He questions and she replies how she always does when he asks, blaming it on intuition and that she doesn’t know how she does it. As always, he doesn’t believe her. Y/N secretly does have a way of easily telling the twins apart, not rooted in intuition in the slightest but she doesn’t want to tell him. 

The truth is, the way her heart races when Fred looks or speaks to her is her way of telling them apart. Fred always has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the way he looks at Y/N makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the world. George is sweet, loving and exceptionally kind- he was there as a source of comfort and calmness for Y/N when the trio disappeared during their 7th year to hunt Horcruxes, when she and her family went into hiding. She loves George like she would love a brother, like how she loves Ron and Harry, but the love Y/N has for Fred is different and the catalyst for her ability to tell them apart.

“I’m going to get you one day. One day George and I will swap and you’ll get it wrong and as a reward for finally tricking the oh so wonderful Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you’ll tell me how you tell us apart.” 

-

It’s not even an hour later when Fred and George come down wearing each other’s clothing. Y/N’s well aware Fred prefers to wear warm and bright colours while George likes to wear the dark colours in their coordinated clothing, so seeing Fred walk down the stairs in George’s purple shirt and vice versa is funny, despite the fact they’re identical twins, Y/N thinks they look ridiculous and unfamiliar.

“George put the purple back on. You look weird in orange,” she says, as she goes back to help Molly with the vegetables for dinner and soon after she speaks, she hears someone angrily kick the table. She looks up from her potatoes she’s been peeling to see an entertained George and Fred who looks like he’s going to throw a child-size tantrum. 

“How!” He exclaims again, pulling the shirt up over his head, shoving it in George’s hands and stomping back upstairs to change. Y/N is about to follow him, genuine concern for Fred in tow. She knows he’s most likely just being dramatic to cause a ruckus but there’s a small part of her that considers he might be serious. 

“He’s fine, Y/N,” George states, changing his shirts and throwing Fred’s orange one over the back of the chair as he sits down, “I think he’s trying to rile you up into telling him how you do it.” 

She laughs at this, knowing that while she might not have told him, the look in George’s eye hints that he’s picked up on her feelings for his twin brother. But before she can say anything, Ron comes bounding down the stairs and right into the kitchen, Harry in tow. They’re both looking for food and when Ron’s hand makes his way towards the ham, Y/N smacks him.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she scolds which causes Harry to laugh. 

“But, mum,” Ron mockingly replies, “All the quidditch got me hungry!” He might be 19 but he’s sulking like a 10-year-old boy and Y/N thinks temper tantrums might run in the Weasley family. 

When Molly isn’t looking, however, Y/N sneaks him a piece of ham and Ron jumps up quickly, smacking a kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best!” he whispers as he quickly shoves the piece of ham in his mouth to not be caught by his mother. 

Soon enough, everyone’s crammed into the small kitchen and Molly waves them all out except Y/N, who she insists stays. She thinks it’s because she was already helping with the vegetables but when she’s about to ask for her next task, Molly has a rare mischievous glint in her eye.

“How do you tell my sons apart?” She enquires and Y/N groans. She hasn’t been asked how she tells the twins apart this often since she was at Hogwarts and before she can speak, Molly continues, “it’s just no one can besides us, and even then, sometimes I catch myself calling George, Fred sometimes.” 

Y/N sighs. She loves Molly like her own mother, but she loves to meddle like every mother. 

“I just know, I wish I had some excuse like a mother’s instinct, but I just know,” Y/N pauses and thinks how to word her next statement without spilling too much for potential eavesdroppers and Extendable Ears to hear, “They have different energies. I think I pick up on it easily.” 

Y/N hopes that’s enough for Molly to drop the conversation at hand and while Molly hums in agreement, she reads between the lines. She’s known for a while that Y/N carries a flame for the oldest twin, after all the way Y/N looks at Fred is the same way she looks at Arthur, so she’s hoping for the day they both stop dancing around their feelings. 

She already loves Y/N like a daughter, and she’d like it to be official one day. 

-

After dinner, the girls are all holed up in Ginny’s room. She loves staying at The Burrow. Y/N never grew up with sisters and her friendship with Hermione and Ginny are the closest she gets to them. They usually gossip, who’s dating who, who’s already getting married, sometimes it gets juicy and someone’s pregnant. 

When Ginny and Harry, and Hermione and Ron finally got together, they gushed for hours about how it finally happened and how excited they all were.

Tonight, unfortunately, the topic at hand is Y/N and Fred.

“When are you going to tell him?” Ginny enquires as she smooths out her face mask. Hermione’s braiding Y/N’s hair and when she doesn’t reply, Hermione grasps some hair and gives a hard tug. Y/N yelps and while Hermione mutters an apology, she doesn’t miss the wink she gives Ginny in the mirror.

“Tell Fred what exactly?” 

“About your feelings for him,” Ginny replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that everyone should have known. Y/N starts to stutter, trying to find words to deny her feelings but these are her two best girl friends, her sisters and she can’t lie to them no matter how much she wants to. 

“Okay fine, they exist but he’s never knowing,” she states, a matter of factly as if it’s something to be proud of, “and he’s never finding out. I’m looking at you, Ginevra.” Ginny inherited her love to meddle from her mother, and if Y/N is positive about anything it’s that Ginny is going to meddle to get her best friend and brother together. 

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back,” Hermione says. She prides herself on being observant but even she didn’t notice Ron’s feelings for her until he quite literally put his lips on hers. 

“I’m just his little siblings’ best friend, Hermione, I doubt it,” she says as she grabs the tiny elastics to secure her hair. “Besides, I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school.”

“You’re choosing now of all days to get the wrong twin? George is dating Angelina. Fred hasn’t even been seen with a girl since he slept with one of Fleur’s cousins at the wedding.” Ginny says and something about this makes Y/N blush, almost happy that Fred’s been single for as long as she has, but the jealousy is in the back of her mind.

“... Shut up,” Y/N laughs as she grabs the nearest pillow and smacks Ginny over the head with it. This causes chaos in Ginny’s tiny bedroom and soon enough all three girls are defending themselves with pillows and jumping around the bedroom.

What none of the girls knew, however, was Fred standing outside of the bedroom, eavesdropping. He’s always been curious about what the girls talk about when the boys aren’t around and Fred reckons if he doesn’t have to hear about his little siblings’ sex life, it doesn’t hurt anybody. 

Except it does, and he hurts himself. He arrived just in time for Ginny to question why Y/N doesn’t admit her feelings to someone. At first, Fred was hopeful, especially when the conversation steers in the direction of her liking one of the twins. After all, Bill’s married, Percy’s… Well, he’s Percy and Charlie isn’t in England enough for him to believe Y/N was able to develop feelings for him. 

So that leaves himself and George from context clues. He’s always had a crush on her ever since they were in school, but he was always worried about coming off as creepy, pining after someone two years below him. 

But then Y/N says ‘I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school’ and he walks off before he even hears the rest of the conversation, hearing the apparent confirmation of Y/N’s feelings for George. 

-

The summer is still sweltering hot when she decides to visit Diagon Alley three days later. She’s shopping for her nephew when she ends up in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Fred was unusually quiet when she said goodbye to him on Monday morning before she floo’d away to her job at the Ministry and she’s hoping to catch him at the shop during quiet hour. 

When she walks in, she’s met with a bell ringing and the voice that calls out ‘Hi, how are you today!’ doesn’t make her heart race so she immediately knows she’s caught the wrong twin at the counter.

“Hey, Georgie!” She makes her way over to the counter. It’s a Wednesday morning, so the shop has a lull in customers and he’s doing what Y/N assumes is a stock take of whizbangs. He gives her a nice smile as she potters her way over to him. She stops in front of the love potions, smelling the familiar scent of cinnamon, fireworks and something that can only be described as happiness in the small bottles. She’s so entranced for a moment that she doesn’t even notice George make his way up next to her.

“You don’t need one of these, by the way,” He whispers as he winks, looking behind him and seeing Fred standing on top of the spiral staircase not looking the happiest. 

“You’re the second person to tell me that this week,” she mutters, quickly putting the love potion vial down, “I don’t know what any of you mean.”

George chuckles at her obliviousness. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers about the feelings both Fred and Y/N harbour for each other but he can’t help but admit it’s just the tiniest bit funny. Like it’s a joke they’re all in on except the oblivious couple themselves.

“It’s because we’re more observant than you, darling,” George says, absent-mindedly fixing the display so it looks presentable. Y/N’s about to question him when someone clears their throat behind them- an elderly gentleman shopping for some grandkids when George excuses himself with the promise ‘this isn’t over’. 

Fred watched the interaction from the staircase and while he didn’t hear anything, he feels like he’s gotten punched in the stomach. He knows he’s never directly told George about his feelings for Y/N, and George is dating Angelina anyway and he’d never betray her, but he can’t ignore the slight feeling of upset he feels when he sees them interact.

-

“I think Y/N likes you,” Fred says nonchalantly and George almost chokes on his tea. It takes him a moment to fix his breathing before he looks at Fred like he’s got three heads.

“No, she doesn’t?” George questions, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world and that upsets Fred slightly. He’s not upset at George, he never has and he never will be upset with George, but it seems like his comment was brushed off without any deeper consideration.

“No, I think she does,” Fred says, twiddling his quill between his fingers as he stares at the tax invoice in front of him. Wednesday night is budget night and Fred knows he’s not going to get any work done if his mind is stuck on Y/N and her feelings for George.

“No, mate, she doesn’t,” George huffs and Fred notices the eye roll George gives him. George only ever gives him eye rolls when he’s being oblivious. Like when Fred spent 20 minutes looking for his wand last week only to find it in his pocket.

Fred’s convinced George is just being oblivious, blinded by his new relationship with Angelina that he hasn’t noticed Y/N’s feelings for him. “Do you wonder how she can tell us apart?” 

George huffs in annoyance as a reply and Fred pouts as he attempts to go back to his taxes. He’s reread the same line three times when George finally speaks.

“I think it’s got something to do with her feelings for us. She feels differently about one twin.” George is intentionally being coy, hoping to Godric that Fred caught the pointed stare and the emphasis but Fred wasn’t looking and the longer he dwells on what George has said the more he’s convinced he doesn’t have a chance with Y/N at all.

- 

It’s the weekly Sunday roast again and Fred isn’t expecting to floo into The Burrow and be met almost face to face with Y/N. He’s planned on ignoring her today, purposely volunteering to do any work needed at the shop while George floo’s to The Burrow early in the afternoon. 

It teeters on 5 pm when Fred finally arrives and he’s quickly engulfed in a hug by his mother with his father behind him telling him to stop working on Sundays as ‘Sundays are for family’. With a kiss to his mum’s forehead and a promise to his dad that he’ll force George into doing the Sunday work next week, who throws a piece of stale bread at Fred’s head while exclaiming ‘you offered!’ he quickly makes his way away from Y/N.

Molly’s quick to serve up dinner now Fred’s here, complaining he’s starving already. He quickly steals the seat next to Ron and pulls George down next to him- not wanting to allow Y/N to sit either side of him. Usually, she sits between Ron and Fred and when she turns the corner and the only available seat is the furthest from Fred, her heat sinks a little.

Dinner is pleasant, it always is at The Burrow. Hermione and Y/N talk about the ministry while Ginny tells stories of her Holyhead Harpies tryouts she had during the week. Y/N might let slip she works with the coach’s sister-in-law and overheard some high praise for a certain Miss. Weasley and Ginny’s eyes fill with tears when she hears this. 

There’s a quick lull in conversation as Molly waves her wand and the now empty plates make their way into the kitchen, children following behind them ready to help wash up but Fred makes his way outside. He likes to watch the sunset, the sun slowly dipping behind the hills where he learnt how to play quidditch as a kid as the sun becomes shades of orange. 

He’s sitting under the tree when Y/N follows him out. She’s shouting his name trying to find him. He slipped out without anyone noticing and that’s unusual for Fred so something is wrong. When she spots him, she starts jogging over and she can’t tell if he’s ignoring her or can’t hear her calling his name, so she tries something.

“George?” 

Fred turns, a smirk subconsciously forming on his lips and Y/N finally feels seen by him in a week. “It took me calling you your brother’s name to get your attention?” She asks, kicking sticks out of the way before she takes a seat next to him. 

“No, love. Just shocked you finally got us mixed up,” he replies, shoving her a little with his elbow. He knows she only did it to get his attention, but he’s Fred Weasley and he’s going to use this to his advantage. “I believe I told you when you get us mixed up, you’re legally required to tell me how you do it. I’m all ears.” He wiggles his eyebrows but deep down, he’s scared George’s assumption is right.

She rolls her eyes, but the love she has for this boy in her heart can’t be kept a secret anymore. This week she’s felt like he’s been ignoring her and while she and Fred are no means ‘best friends’, not like she is with the others, she’s felt a little piece of her universe missing knowing he’s been upset.

“You and George, I… I feel different about you to how I feel about George,” she starts and Fred’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know if he’s going to storm off or throw up so he just sits and stares at a rock. “George makes me feel comfortable. He’s always willing to talk to me about anything, feeds into the fact I can speak for hours on end about any topic if you let me,” she laughs and her nervousness is in her throat. She notices Fred isn’t looking at her and it’s making her want to run away.

“But you, you feel like home, Freddie. The way my heart races when I hear you speak or when you look at me. It’s the biggest indicator of how I tell you guys apart. George and you may be identical but the way you both make me feel is so different.” She’s whispering now and she’s realised Fred is looking at her so intently that the Earth might open up and swallow her whole. 

“Like, home?” 

She smiles softly and takes his big hand that’s been messing with rocks into her small ones. “Like I can tell you anything and you’ll never judge me. I could be having the worst day of my life and one joke from you can make me smile even if I’ve been crying for hours.” Her thumb starts to rub along the top of his hand and the way he shivers doesn’t miss her. 

“I’m trying to say, in a round-about kind of way, that I’m in love with you, Freddie,” her voice is shaky but there’s no backing out now. “I’m in love with you and this past week where it’s felt like you’re mad at me has me so confused because I don’t know what I did.” 

Fred feels incredibly guilty now, he was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think how his actions would affect Y/N. “I thought you liked George,” he whispers, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I thought you liked George and not me and I didn’t want to be near you knowing that.” 

She giggles and drops his hands to run her fingers through his hair. It’s still short but she thinks she can convince him to grow it out again. “Me? George? Not even for a second.” 

“Why not?” The joking in Fred’s voice is there but so is the genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t know. It’s just always been you, ever since I was 11 and you were bullying Ron into performing a spell to turn Scabbers yellow.” She laughs at the memory, watching scrawny Fred bully his small brother on the train platform. 

Fred looks down at her, her hands now playing at the hair at the back of his neck and he feels goosebumps rise across his skin. He wants nothing more to lean down and press a kiss to her lips and when he realises he never actually admitted his feelings to Y/N back, he starts to lean down, hoping to convey everything he feels for her through a kiss.

She’s quick to catch on and she leans up so quickly they almost bump noses. It’s messy, like most first kisses are, especially in an awkward sitting down position but the love they have for each other is there and obvious. They pull away when they’re barely kissing anymore, just smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Fred asks. It’s a dumb question, they both know it but when Y/N pretends to think he stands up and hauls her over his shoulders and starts swinging her around. The giggles that erupt from her make Fred’s heart swell and he’s about to put her down just to get down on one knee himself and propose right then and there.

“Yes, Freddie, if you want me to be your girlfriend then I’m yours.” Y/N replies and Fred smiles, he loves that. Not Y/N being his, he could never believe she’s an object, but she loves him and he loves her and now he understands why George was rolling his eyes at him.

“As long as you don’t get George and I mixed up in bed, I’m all yours.” He says it jokingly, but the smack he receives from Y/N is no joke and when he starts swinging her around again, he’ll forever make dumb jokes like this if he gets to hear her laugh like that for the rest of his days.

[swinterr]

fic rec vi ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

nct 

jeno

no title by @tyongf-nct | s

- smut blurb.

body guards and boyfriend by @pastelsicheng | f

-  sometimes the only way you can really get some alone time with your boyfriend is by making his job hard.

lipstick smears by @kopikokun | f

-  jeno never thought trying to get his makeup artist’s attention would be this hard.

jaehyun

[10:30] by @moonttaeil | 

- a lockdown moment.

[2:40] by @nct-jungjaehyun | f a

- cute quality fluff time with bf!jae with a dash of angst.

[11:41] by @jeongvision | f 

- family time with apples.

just like magic by @starryhyuck | f s

-  jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

love to hate me by @moonctzeny | s a 

-  you and jaehyun meet as sm trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you decided to leave the company and pursue a solo career. when you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other.

moving on by @ddeonghwaa | f a

- reader has been chasing jae for some time but when she moved on jae suddenly enter the picture.

sun&moon by @ppangjae | f a

-  asking jeong jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. one can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

snack run with a snack by @kopikokun | f 

-  on your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. you’re a little peeved, but at least jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

lover boy by @neoct-zen | f s

- bunch fics of lover boy jae and reader.

jungwoo

one more time, please by @haequarius | f s

-  you don’t know what you and Jungwoo are, but you are certainly weak for him.

jealous by @whiplashsan | s 

-  jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you.

doyoung

sugar, spice and everything not nice by @alreadyblondenow | s

-  doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies.

no title by @ncteaxhoe | s

- dom!doyoung, rough? i need holy water.

the little one by @ethaeriyeol | f 

-  a gift of life; female reader x husband!Doyoung; fluff, light angst, married au

lucas

exquisite taste by @weishenkonbini | s f

- smut but with a fluffy ending.

for you always by @labyrinthsofyou | f

-  in which you surprise yukhei when he forgets about your date.

6:19 by @cozykpopblurbs | f

- a cute fluff ft kun and winwin.

10:18 pm by @nctsoftarchives | f

- reader supports lucas at his superm debut stage. 

16:47 by @sichengssmile | f s 

- a fluffy smut. lucas a big boi.

missed you by @tokyobts | a f

-  after you and yukhei broke up, yukhei still has feelings for you. he reaches out to you at school and tries to get you back. at first you avoid him but later his actions manage to make your heart flutter. you’ve come to a sudden conclusion that you maybe still want him in your life.

johnny

34 + 35 by @domjaehyun | s 

- you and your husband johnny decide to take your marriage to the next step.

i couldn’t wait a little longer by @alreadyblondenow | s f a

-  you two were never together longer than two days, but the feelings, oh the feelings that you have for each other is clear as the day. it was a never-ending try of making the relationship official. johnny tried, you tried but it never happens.

what happens in korea, not stays in korea by @alreadyblondenow | f s 

-  a week vacation in korea for your sister’s wedding became even more exciting when a famous dj had a crush on you. johnny was sure that it’s love at first sight. not putting both of your careers on the line, you two had no regrets when the time comes and you finally leave.

laundry day by @immabiteyou | s

- a domestic fluffy smut.

make a wish by @sluttyten | s f a

-  you’re jungwoo’s sister, and he’s made it clear he wants you and Johnny to have nothing to do with each other. so you and johnny start fake dating to piss him off.

want it all by @sluttyten | f s 

-  you are entirely innocent to the point of being naive. johnny is not innocent, but he loves that you are because it means he can teach you everything you don’t know.

sungchan

wish i was her by @softsungchan | f a 

-  you wished you were her, laying in Sungchan’s arms and feeling his warm breath on your neck, giggling about sweet nothings whispered into the starry night. You wished for it to be you, the girl he liked.

2:21 am by @the32ndbeat | f 

- sungchan being whipped, thru a text message.

haechan

14:52 by @ukiyoexo | f

- a cute haechan and reader ft the reader’s baby sister moment.

prince’s order by @nsheetee | f

-  prince haechan nurses you after you faint, and orders you to stay with him until you feel better.

sweet treat by @markresonates | s

-  haechan takes you for ice cream but all you can think about is sex with him.  when you act like a brat, eventually you end up in the bathroom. with no panties. 

clingy by @love-mi | f 

-  I’m not clingy! I just love your company and constantly want to be around you and have your full attention at all times

mark

hyuck is always right by @luvrenjun00 | f 

- ceo!mark x reader ft baby donghyuck. a tooth-rotting fluff.

taeyong

snow storm by @whereisten | f s 

- a fluffy smut whilst a snow storm.

1:59 by @smoll-tangerine | f

- reader and taeyong ft my favorite game (where i always die first) among us!

bts

taehyung

is this allowed 1 2 by @seokiie  | f s

- how were you supposed to know bts would be filming at your coffee shop today? how were you supposed to know a certain curly-haired boy would take a liking  to you?

cabin pressure | f by @jiminrings | f 

-  pilot!y/n who accidentally became famous bc of a viral post about her, best friend!jimin!, taehyung having a shy lil crush on you aND ot7 being meanies for a tad bit :((

art major!tae and biochem major!yn | f by @jiminrings | f

-  tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

gank mid lane by @kimtaehyunq | f s 

- gank / verb: (in a video game) use underhand means to defeat or kill (a less experienced opponent)

birthday surprise by @ephemeralkookie |

-  like every year, you prepare a little surprise for your boyfriend’s birthday, one that you’ve been preparing for days. and after a very tiring day, taehyung only wants to spend the night in your loving arms.

jungkook

cookies & cream | s by @1kook | f s 

-  jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (and maybe having his dick sucked.)

unholy night | s by @ephemeralkookie | f s

-  after a christmas day passed with the Jeon’s family, Jungkook decides to transform the holy night into an unholy one.

‘a short’ abstinence | s a by @seokiie | s a

-  maybe blue-balling you boyfriend (who has an insanely high sexual drive) wasn’t the best.

in which she’s done with him by @minstrivia | a

-  jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone.

bad influence by @noteguk | s 

-  in which you know jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

jock!jk and shy art major!yn by @jiminrings | f

-  established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

special affair by @1oserjk | f

-  sugar daddy au except it’s just jk spoiling u thru animal crossing

fairy of shampoo by @ironicarmy | f s

-  sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.

abstract ft bob ross by @mimithings97 | f

-  paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what jeongguk wants. and what jeongguk wants, jeongguk gets.

badboy!jungkook by @jungshookz | f 

- badboy!jungkook falls for good girl reader ft the boys and the reader’s apple. 

growing by @lesgetittkookie | f

- dad!jungkook teacher his daughter how to walk. super super cute family/domestic fluff.

quiet, baby by @bratkook | s 

- i don’t how to write a summary on smuts so imma just put this. reader and jungkook doing something in the subway.

still want that by @whatifyoulivelikethat | s

-  fucking min yoongi ex-girlfriend? a terrible idea. being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? an even worse idea. knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing? part 2 of savage love.

desiderium by @jeonggukingdom | f s 

-  “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”. a newlyweds!au smut.

chapstick by @softyoongiionly | f s

- based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. or jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

lover boy by @jingukk | f 

-  jungkook likes you. a lot.

unexpected confession by @sunkissedjk | f

-  you gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him.

string attached by @ephemeralkookie | s

-  jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.

no title by @himbojk | f s 

- dilf jk.

astro

eunwoo

ceo!eunwoo by @m0onbean

no title by @yutopiada | f

- a cute idol!reader and eunwoo moment at a music show.

disney by @bangchan-sonyeondan | f

- a cute date with eunwoo at disney. reader likes vintage things hence using a disposable camera.

baby, it’s cold outside by @fresh-outta-jams | f 

- a cute cold christmas fluff with eunwoo ft. the boys. reader went to the boys’ place for a sweater and cocoa gift exchange.

got7

yugyeom

cruel brothers by @imsarabum | f

-  jackson and jaebum have always acted as if they were your big, overprotective brothers. so when they both walk in on you and yugyeom in a very intimate position, things get a little tense!

txt

soobin

a special night by @gyuluster | f

-  an intimate insight on the first night of choi soobin’s wedding, consisting of kitchen floors, witches and an eternity of love.

boughs & branches by @jeogiyall | f 

-  decorating the tree with boyfriend! choi soobin from txt! fluffity fluff fluff with a lot of cute fluff thrown in and a dash of christmastime fluff. 

sleepy binnie by @immabiteyou | s

-  “i’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now. “ a sleepy soobin smut.

cake by @immabiteyou | s

- reading waiting for mc soobin with the guys. a cute fluffy smut moment.

kpop oc/s

seri by @ggukkiedae

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[swanqueensalad]

ignore this if it’s too much, but since you’re in a sad regina meta mood, what are your thoughts on the time she fell off her castle balcony?

ooooh anon you do know how to keep my sad regina meta mood alive! thanks for the ask, i am always too willing to share my sad regina thoughts.

in fact, this is most likely going to be very long and rambly and off topic because i have Too Many sad regina thoughts

(obviously, this post will contain discussion of suicide/suicidal ideation and all of the other stuff that goes with regina's trauma so if any of that will trigger you please don't read!)

so first of all, i think the context is super important - i know obviously the evil queen was regina at her absolute worst and lowest point, but i do think young regina pre-evil queen was actually the darkest and hardest part of her life, and it's one the ouat writers seemed to consistently hint at but almost be afraid to really delve into too much? but i for one find it incredibly interesting.

(just saying, the ouat writers were cowards. but also i do understand that a fairytale show on abc couldn't really go too dark.)

you have this very young girl - we know she got married at 18 and very little seems to have actually changed for her at this point (she is still not really seen as a Queen, she's even wearing the same dress she wore before her wedding) so i'd put her at 19/20 at the very OLDEST in this specific episode - who has no agency and no allies, apart from the weak-willed father that enabled all her abuse and rumplestiltskin, the literal dark one, who is grooming and manipulating her into becoming so mentally fucked up she will cast his curse for him.

she has nobody. and she is still pretty traumatised from all her childhood abuse and her grief and trauma over literally watching her mother murder the love of her life - none of which she has ever had the space or support to process.

and now she is literally trapped in this big empty castle that doesn't belong to her, married to a man visibly the same age as her father who is cold towards her at Best, forced to 'mother' a girl maybe 8 years younger than her (who is intrinsically tied up in all said suffering and trauma).

all she has is the literal dark one who is grooming her for his own gain. all she has is this magic, which gives her a sense of control and power she has literally never had before in her life, but also still makes her terrified that she'll lose control/end up like her mother.

regina is stuck in this state for a long, long time. all she ever wanted was to be free and loved, and she has become stuck in the opposite of those in every way. she is miserable and alone, trapped in a seemingly never ending cycle of suffering.

(side note: anyone who tries to tell me leopold didn't lay a hand on her is kidding themselves. old men don't marry pretty eighteen year old girls for their conversation. especially not when they are visibly distressed by the proposal. if he wanted a 'mother' for snow, well, snow's more age-appropriate maid seemed to be doing a good job at that anyway, and even if it had to be regina, he could have just brought her to court as a lady in waiting or something - he did not have to marry her. he chose to. no apologies for shitty men on My blog thank u v much)

so anyway

poor lost regina at this point is so torn - she wants to not hurt people (except maybe snow) and when rumple taunts her about the darkness not stopping until it's finished devouring her, she is visibly upset and panicked, wanting to run away. but of course, she has nowhere to go and nobody to help her. she both wants and dreads seeing rumple's plans for her through.

so i think, honestly, it's not too much of a stretch to say she had probably already had some harmful thoughts about herself. about an escape from all of it.

and that conversation with rumple really rattles her - he knew exactly how to get under her skin and make her need him even more - and the way she storms right onto her balcony afterwards shows just how emotional she really is.

when she starts hitting the railings, i don't think she was actively intending to jump/fall, she's just momentarily lost in all that pain and rage.

however. in that moment, i don't think she cared much either way. the railing started coming loose, and she kept hitting it. she didn't make any move to step back. so while i don't think she was actively trying to hurt herself, i think she didn't care much if it happened anyway.

and then only when tink saves her does regina realise what she did and how careless she was about it, which then freaks her out.

(and is then why she's so insistent the rest of the episode that she fell - and also why perceptive tink is having none of it - 'right. you... fell.')

[disgruntledspacedad]

The White Room

The Better Love Series || Join My Tags

a sequel to Shit Hits the Fan

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse.

summary: Bill Stechner makes his move. You never even saw it coming.

words: 6.1k

warnings: 18+, plot, a little angst, a little fluff. 

notes: unbeta’d. this is a big one. notes at the end.

<< Shit Hits the Fan || These Hands are Magic >>

MASTERLIST

You take the embassy steps two at a time, wishing you’d have been notified about the change in your schedule just half an hour earlier.

You’d gotten a page just as you were headed out the door of the apartment. Stechner has decided to pull you from Centra Spike’s night flight over Medellín. He wants you at headquarters this evening instead. He didn’t say why. 

Part of you isn’t sorry. Escobar has been getting desperate lately, and between the outbreaks of violence in Medellín and the continued bombing campaign in Bogotá, you’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Javi, too. He’s been spending more and more time at the base in Medellín, and you’ve been spending more and more time in the skies, pulling random shifts through all hours of the day and night. 

It hasn’t put a strain on your relationship, exactly. In fact, in some ways, the little moments that you steal with Javi when your schedules just happen to mesh are all the more precious because of it. You’re both exhausted and a little cranky, but there’s been an underlying desperation to your recent interactions that’s only served to stoke the flame that flickers between you. 

It’s a bittersweet feeling. You cherish the time you get together, but on the other hand, it seems like even when Javi’s right there next to you, you miss him so much that your chest aches.

Which is why you’re miffed that Bill couldn’t have shuffled you around a little sooner. Javi’s been in Medellín for the past two days. He’d caught an early flight back to Bogotá just as you’d been finishing up another late shift flyover. You’d just happened to run into him at the embassy airstrip, a perfect coincidence. Your eyes had met over the tarmac, and like a pair of magnets, you’d crashed into one another. Javi had wrapped you into a fierce hug, and you’d pulled him into a heated kiss, and the two of you had spent a good five minutes canoodling in a hidden corridor near the water fountains, kissing and whispering and grappling for position as he’d pinned you against the wall. He’d breathed you in, and you’d reveled in the taste of him on your lips, each of you pressing frantically against the body of the other as if it had been weeks and not mere days since you’d been together. 

“I’ve got to go,” Javi had apologized into your mouth, breathing the words between a series of soft, desperate kisses. “Fucking… fucking early meeting with Martinez.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you’d reassured him, feeling very much like it wasn’t okay. You hardly get enough of him as it is. This tiny little taste had only deepened your aching need, and you’d felt your heart splitting in two as he’d pulled away from you, a small little grimace of frustration twisting his face. 

“I’ll see you soon,” you’d called as he’d hurried away, and he’d responded with a tight lipped smile and another dark look of longing. 

Now, you round the corridor toward the DEA office, walking as quickly as you can without drawing attention to yourself. Javi is working late again. If you hurry, you’ll have twenty five uninterrupted minutes with him before your night shift starts. 

“Ears!” You stop in your tracks, a little shudder of resentment flashing down your spine at Bill’s overeager greeting. “Just the lady I’ve been waiting to see.”

You school your face into a neutral expression of polite interest. Most days, you like Bill just fine, despite the fact that you really don’t trust him for shit. 

Today, damn him straight to hell.

“What’s up?” you ask, quirking your lips into an intrigued little grin. There’s a certain informality and blasé banter that Bill’s grown to expect from your encounters, and he’s sharp enough to sense that something’s off if you don’t perform.

“Oh, loads and loads,” Bill says, leaning casually against the corridor wall with his arms folded. 

You bite back a sigh. You really, really don’t have the patience to dance around him today. “Oh, really?”

Bill arches a questioning brow at you, and you remind yourself to be convincing, dammit. Usually, this isn’t an issue. Most days, you like your job, and your boss, just fine. 

Most days. 

“You’re bored, aren’t you, Ears?” Bill continues, pitching his voice deep, those probing eyes piercing straight through you.

“I -” you start. Bored isn’t how you’d describe it, lately.

Tired, more like. 

“No, no,” Bill’s expression is patient, endearing. “Don’t deny it. I’ve been watching you. I know that hungry look when I see it. You want more. You came to Colombia to do something important with your life, I can tell.”

Six months ago, hell, even three months ago, Bill’s words would have been true. Now, the very thought of more is enough to send you crawling into bed and sleeping for a week. 

‘Isn’t tracking down Pablo Escobar pretty fucking important?’ you’re half tempted to ask. You hold your tongue.

Obviously, it’s not to Bill Stechner.

“What do you have for me?” you say instead, hoping you sound intrigued, carefully not confirming or denying Bill’s suspicions. 

“Real work,” Bill says with a sharp smile. Something cold jolts down your spine at the his use of the word ‘real.’ 

As if everything until now has been a sham.

“Follow me,” he beckons, and you have no choice but to obey.

Bill leads you past the DEA offices. You catch a glimpse of the top of Javi’s head from the corner of your eye. He’s hunched over his desk, pouring over an open manilla file. You can barely see the deep furrow in his brow. He doesn’t notice you pass by, and you don’t pause to acknowledge him.

Something throbs in your chest at that.

You follow Bill through a few more winding corridors, down into the basement, past Centra Spike’s room, right up to an unassuming little bookcase built into a nondescript wall in the middle of nowhere. 

Bill pauses here, turning to look at you with shining eyes. 

You meet his stare, giving away nothing. 

With an enthusiasm that borders on theatrical, Bill huddles over a little keypad that’s tucked away at the edge of the bookcase. He punches in a series of numbers, glancing over to confirm that you’re still watching. 

You definitely are.

Bill steps back, and like something from an Indiana Jones film, the entire fucking bookcase slides aside, reveling a reinforced steel door built into the wall. 

“Whoa,” you can’t help but breathe.

Bill’s eyes glitter. He’s eating this up, impressing you. 

And truly, you’re impressed. That little spark of interest that had died in the past months of your burnout has flared with a vengeance. 

This is the shit that you joined the CIA for, and Bill Stechner knows it. 

“Welcome to the white room, Ears,” Bill announces lowly. It’s the soft, knowing voice of a man sharing a deeply guarded secret. He opens the steel door with a flourish, and it swings slowly aside, heavy and creaking, as if its weight alone could announce the gravity of what you’re about to see. 

Carefully, you step inside the room, ducking a little to avoid knocking your head against the low hanging doorway, crawling past the steel corridor entrance before you can straighten.

You blink, astounded at what you’re seeing.

Of course, you’ve heard whispers of CIA’s fabled “White Room,” a repository of classified files tucked away somewhere in the embassy basement. Even Javi’s mentioned it a couple of times, always with a hint of resentment, like he’d give his left arm for even a glimpse inside. Rumor is, Steve Murphy’s been in here before, but just once, and he was heavily supervised the entire time. It’s a fucking goldmine of intel, stacks upon stacks of carefully organized file folders, all at the fingertips of the few individuals who are important enough to be need-to-know. 

“Okay,” you whisper beneath your breath, taking it all in. Reality is a little different than you’d pictured. The entrance is impressive, sure, but what you’re staring at is even more so. Box after carefully labelled box is packed atop one another, stacked six deep on a never-ending series of steel shelves. 

You could spend an eternity here learning all of the secrets of Colombia. The implications are mind-boggling, and distantly, you wonder how many other well-hidden rooms the CIA has tucked away across a spread of foreign countries, a never-ending fountain of secrets related to god-knows-what.

Your brain stutters at the thought.

You realize suddenly that Bill is watching you carefully from the corner of his eye, observing your reaction as if he’s surreptitiously taking notes on every thought that flits across you brain. Again, you school your expression, reverting to that practiced, dead-eyed stare of careful neutrality. 

“Cool,” you say, a little breathlessly, knowing that Bill’s eager to wow you, and not seeing any reason not to acknowledge the fact that, yeah, you’re pretty fucking wowed. You turn to face him, ignoring the temptation to sweep your gaze over the many, many labeled files at your eye level. “So, what are we doing here?”

Bill laughs. “I’ll show you.” He leads you past the shelves, and now that you’re behind him, you can’t stop your eyes from tracking over the labels at your eye level. You’re appalled by what you see. 

Shelves upon shelves devoted to Escobar, and even more to the Cali Cartel, all broken down into sections of the individual godfathers. Rodriguez, Herrera, Bejarano, Moncado are all names that catch your eye. There are folders on each major sicario that you recognize from Javi’s info board: Mosquera, Lucumí, Vásquez, Gaviria... the list goes on. Even more files files are labeled Castaño. There’s a whole series of boxes on M-19, and a little past that, an entire shelf devoted solely to FARC. 

It’s more than your mind can possible comprehend in one quick sweep, and hell, that’s just what you could catch at eye level. 

It occurs to you that this is what Steve and Javi are always bitching about. Sure, you’re aware of the ever present pissing contest between the DEA and the CIA, but it’s always been peripheral information to you. Steve in particular is pretty vocal about his frustration with the ‘fucking CIA.’ “Goddamn file’s so redacted that it might as well be scrap,” you can just hear him muttering. 

Christ, if this is the kind of intel that the CIA has open access too, you can kind of see his point. 

Bill stops at a table in the center of the room, indicating it with a sweep of his hand. Reluctantly, you sit, a little annoyed that you’ve got your back to him now, but not feeling comfortable enough to twist around to track what he’s doing. Your instincts are screaming at you that this is a test. A big one. So you wait demurely in your tiny plastic chair, your hands folded primly in your lap, listening intently as Bill shuffles for something behind you.

After a long moment, Bill leans his hip heavily against the table, just a hair too close to your shoulder for you to be totally comfortable. You don’t have time to think on that, though, because he’s sliding a black and white photograph under your nose for you to view.

The man that leers up at you has a pinched face beneath a deep brow. His nose is long and lopsided, as if it’s been broken at least once. His thinning, limp hair hangs low over his eyes, giving him a mysterious, almost rebellious look. His mouth is wide, crooked teeth exposed in an open-mouthed grimace. He’s angling toward the camera, obviously unaware of its existence, leaning forward with a machine gun cradled to his chest.

“Feo,” you say instantly, your mouth working before your brain can catch up. You recognize him from the evidence board in the DEA office, and even more from your conversations with Javi. 

Feo is a low level sicario, one that’s just now caught the attention of Search Bloc, mostly due to the recent chatter that Centra Spike has picked up. You’ve yet to get a positive ID on his voice, but he’s been mentioned in several conversations lately, always in reference to ‘drops.’

Javi’s been working deep in the night to decipher these conversations, eager to learn what ‘drops’ Escobar and his sicarios are so desperate to come by.

“Feo,” Bill drawls, a hint of something sharp licking at his tone. You glance up at him, curious. “That’s an unfortunate nickname.”

He’s staring down at you with eyes that are too aware. Probing, assessing. 

Fuck.

“I’ve seen him on the DEA board,” you explain, grateful that you can provide an answer so quickly. You don’t like the way Bill is looking at you, like he’s daring you to confess a sin. 

“I didn’t realize there were many photos of him floating around,” Bill says casually. But you aren’t stupid. You read the threat in his statement, loud and clear.

“It’s a new one,” you reply automatically, feeling as if you’re scrambling to claw yourself out of a hole. 

But this is also true. Feo has been an ongoing mystery to Search Bloc, one that they haven’t taken seriously until recently. You wonder what it is about this man that’s got Bill so on edge. 

Bill hums. “Good eye.”  He hunches over the photograph, so close that you can feel his body heat against your neck. 

“This is Raul Manriquez.” Bill taps the forehead of the man in the photograph, then turns to leer at you. “Apparently, he’s known to his friends as Feo.”

He’s watching you for a sign. You refuse to give it.

“So,” you ask after a beat. Bill folds his arms across his chest, waiting for you to continue. He’s not giving any signs either, the dickwad. “What does the CIA want with Raul Manriquez?” 

Bill has never behaved this way with you before. There’s a certain weight to the way he regards you that hints at paranoia. He’s deeply, almost obsessively interested in this man, and it doesn’t make sense. 

Feo is a sicario, sure. But sicarios are far, far below Bill’s pay grade. The thought is laughable, even.

Something drops in your stomach. If Feo is more than a sicario, as it seems he must be, then it is far, far above your pay grade to be this involved.

Bill pulls out a chair beside you and sits heavily. He leans on his elbow, swinging his legs so that his knees brush your thighs. 

You echo him, carefully positioning yourself so that you’re facing one another, but no longer touching.

“We have intel to suggest that Raul Manriquez is connected with a Russian weapons ring,” Bill starts. You notice for the first time that he looks tired, too, his eyes a little bloodshot, heavy bags dropping darkly beneath them. 

Something clicks in your brain. “He’s Pablo’s weapons guy,” you breathe. The pieces fall together with startling clarity. The drops that the sicarios had mentioned. The fact that Feo seems to stay at the periphery of things, not nearly as involved with the day-to-day bullshit that other sicarios seem to thrive on. “He’s running guns.”

“Among other things,” Bill drawls, seeming thoroughly bored by the turn in the conversation.

You ignore that. Your thoughts are spinning wildly, forging connections, solving problems. Escobar’s got to get his weapons from somewhere. In the back of your mind, you’ve always sort of known this, but the significance of it has stayed firmly out of sight, swamped by other things that, at the time, had seemed far more important. 

But if you could catch Feo… If you could choke off Pablo’s lethality directly at the source…

“We could end this,” you whisper, sitting up to look Bill directly in the eye. Your voice rises. “Bill, if we neutralize Feo, Escobar’s lost his access to his guns.” Something swoops in your heart, and you feel brighter, more energized than you have in weeks. “We can end this war!”

“Oh, the fucking drug war.” Bill scoffs, waving his hand in a casual gesture of lazy dismissal. He looks frustrated, disappointed. “Ears, broaden you horizons a little, sister. Escobar is on the run. When he’s gone,” Bill leans in, the glint in his eye damned near dangerous. “And he will be gone, Ears, trust me.” He huffs a deep sigh, shaking his head as he pitches away to balance on the far feet of his chair, rocking back and forth in a way that reminds you of a restless kid in a elementary school classroom. His eyes are sharp, possessive as they pin yours. “What then?”

You stare at him flatly, a little miffed to have nearly a year of your life’s work brushed aside as if it’s just petty bullshit. 

You shake that emotion away, blinking hard, reminding yourself of where you are, of who your boss is. With the lines as blurred as they are in Colombia, and your unique position dancing between Centra Spike, the DEA, and the CIA, and Search Bloc, it’s easy to forget that ultimately, it’s Bill Stechner who owns you.

For the first time, that thought deeply unsettles you.

Bill falls forward heavily on his elbows, looking at you with a furrowed brow, and you remind yourself for the umpteenth time that this meeting is a performance, one that you’ve utterly and completely bombed until now.

You brain spins, processing the little bits and pieces of information that you’ve been given. Bill sees Escobar’s fall as in inevitability, inconsequential, even. He’s concerned about Feo in the context that he’s connected to the weapons trade in Colombia. 

Quickly, you consider what you know about Bill Stechner. A CIA big wig with a shady-ass military background. A man who’s mind lives in the future. 

A future without Escobar. He’s made that much clear.

“You’re looking to fill a power vacuum,” you announce suddenly, knowing instinctively that you’re not far off the mark. Bill Stechner is a man who is always thinking ahead, studying the political chessboard to analyze his next move, and the one after that, too.

And that truth bomb jars free even more thoughts that have been floating untethered in the back of your mind. When he’s not skulking around his office, Bill is gone for weeks at a time, supposedly off in depths of the amazonian jungle, brushing shoulders with his right winged military buddies. 

Commie hunting.

The pieces fall perfectly into place, painting a sobering picture, and all the while, Bill watches, a sharp little grin playing at his lips as you connect the dots. 

“Bill,” you say, refusing to accept any bullshit. You thump your finger hard against Feo’s leering smirk, pinning Bill with a dark stare. “Is this guy connected with FARC?”

Both of Bill’s brows arch skyward, and he leans back, looking at you with a new light in his eyes. You get the impression that once again, you’ve impressed him. 

You’re not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

“I don’t know, Ears,” Bill admits, glancing away to his hands, which are suddenly curling into fists in his lap. You can tell it really grinds his gears, the uncertainty. “That’s what I want to find out.” 

You consider him carefully, keeping your face expressionless. This is the most open response you’ve ever gotten from Bill, and you file away that information along with everything else you’ve learned today.

It’s a lot.

“What do you need from me?” 

It’s a valid question. Part of you, the part that is equally intrigued and enraptured by Bill Stechner and the CIA as a whole, genuinely wants to help. 

The rest of you is just desperate to get out of this room.

Bill’s lips slide into a knowing smirk. “Well, Ears,” he drawls, eyeing you in a way that makes something sink in your gut. “I’m glad you asked.”

“I’m listening.” You deliberately leave off the ‘sir,’ that you’re tempted to tack on to the end of that statement. Damn your army background.

“This is the moment that we’ve put you in place for,” Bill confesses, hunching forward on his elbows. Again, you get the impression that he’s trying to reel you in, seducing you with a show of honesty. 

You brace yourself. 

“The DEA is interested in this man, too,” Bill starts, shooting you a pointed look that says ‘I know you already know this.’ You keep your face carefully blank, so Bill continues. “I know that they’ve been working to track his location.”

Something cold coils in your heart. “Are you asking me to spy on Search Bloc?” you ask point blank. 

Bill shakes his head. “No, no, no, Ears,” he chides with an expression of extreme patience, as if you’re a child to him. “That would be counterproductive. We’re all on the same team, after all.” He pins you with a dead-eyed stare that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m asking you to fully engage in your position with the CIA.” Bill stresses the last point, again reminding you of who you are, who you answer to. “You’re a liaison.” He hums a little, all casual disinterest, disarming you, reinforcing the bonds of loyalty that he’s forged with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “So, liaise.”

You realize with a starling, icy jolt of clarity that Bill Stechner has tolerated your relationship with Javier Peña for this very reason, that he’s garnered your favor - accepting your transfer request, giving you a raise, buying you drinks, playing your buddy - all in preparation for using you as his own personal mole in the ranks of Search Bloc.

And you’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Your throat works hard to swallow against a suddenly dry mouth. “I understand, sir.” 

For the first time, Bill doesn’t correct your formality. You hardly notice the shift, though. You’re still reeling from the implications of what he’s asking of you, of how he’s exploited you, taken advantage of all of your vulnerabilities.  Suddenly, you feel as if you’re choking, like a noose is tightening, tightening around your neck. You have to stop yourself from reaching to massage your throat, clenching your hands into tight firsts into your lap instead.

Bill watches it all in cool amusement. “Atta girl,” he praises, and you swear you taste bile. He stands, and you copy him absently, feeling detached and awkward, walking on legs that require all of your attention to keep from trembling. 

Bill claps a heavy hand on your shoulder. His eyes flash with something like pride, and you decide in that moment that you hate him, this motherfucker, almost as much as you hate yourself for falling for his bullshit. 

Goddammit, you’re so fucking stupid.

“Good talk,” he says, and you nod in a way that you hope is contemplative without being telling.

You follow Bill out of the room on wooden legs, your mind spinning with the implications of your conversation. He nods to you as the bookshelf slides shut behind you, and you nod back, relieved to see that he turns to head the opposite direction from the DEA office. 

You glance down at your watch. You’ve got ten minutes if you hurry. With all your heart, you hope that Javi is still working. 

You need to see him.

You push past his glass door, swinging it open hard enough that it bangs ominously against the wall. Javi is still slumped over his desk in the exact same position as before, studying a jumbled series of papers, a half-spent cigarette dangling from his lips.

Your breath catches at the sight of him. 

His head snaps up at your noisy arrival, dark eyes narrowed at the intrusion. His expression softens when he sees that it’s you. 

“Ears.” His voice is a sigh, a release of that same tension that you feel leaking from you own bones, and you dart forward, heedless of who might be watching beyond the glass walls.

“Hey,” you say, shoving aside an opened manilla folder to create a bare space for you to lean against. Javi doesn’t seem to mind that in the least, so you flop up onto his desk, pressing your thigh against his elbow, enjoying the feeling of just sharing the same space.

Javi glances at you, and your something lurches in your chest as you take him in. He looks haggard, exhausted, dark bags gathered beneath his bloodshot eyes like he hasn’t had good night’s sleep in far too long. 

“Another little chat with Stechner?” he grouses, peering up at you with narrow gazed suspicion. 

Your heart sinks, and you have to blink hard against the onslaught of his ire. Javi’s always been grouchy when he’s tired, and there’s nothing that drives him into a funk faster than any mention of Bill Stechner. It’s as if he has a sixth sense in that regard, like he can smell Bill on your skin. 

And that’s a gross thought.

Until now, Javi’s attitude had irked you, and you’d written it off as petty, just another brand of that delightfully obnoxious possessiveness that he’s continuously displayed since your apartment was bombed.

But dammit, you’re the moron here, not Javi. He’d been right not to trust Bill.

You shut your eyes tightly. You wonder if Javi should even trust you, given your most recent assignment. 

“Please don’t,” you whisper, not knowing how to put your many worries into words, and Javi must read your conflicted mood, because he lets the subject drop. He huffs, his attention falling back to the open file on his desk, his long fingers working little tapping patterns into its intricate woodgrain.

You follow his gaze, noticing that he’s been pouring over the same photograph that Bill had shown you in the white room. Feo’s ugly mug leers back at you, a knowing, secretive smirk playing at his upturned lips, like he’s mocking you, the motherfucker.

A flood of emotions swamp you. You’ve watched Javi squinting down at this same photo for days, his mind spinning as he attempts to tease out connections, completely stumped as to how this unassuming, ugly man fits into the bigger picture of Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. 

And now you know, but there’s not a damn thing you can say about it. Bill’s going to be watching you. Hell, he’d admitted as much today. Verbatim. If he thinks that his little spy is sharing classified CIA intel with her DEA boyfriend… 

Well, honestly, you’re not sure what would happen. You just know that it would be bad news for you, and probably even worse for Javi.

You release a deep, broken sigh, exhaling though your nose. You wonder how you’re going to balance it all, working for Bill without betraying Javi.

Well, you absolutely refuse to do that. Fuck Bill Stechner for even asking.

But now, watching Javi huddled over his messy desk, squinting in the dim light because he refuses to wear his fucking glasses, frazzled and careworn and a little cranky, something pulls at your chest. 

Refusing to share this intel feels a lot like a betrayal already, and suddenly, you’re desperate to confess it all to him, to crawl into Javi’s lap and spill your guts and cry and beg for his forgiveness for blowing off his concerns about Stechner, for even entertaining the thought of withholding information from him.

Just as you feel like you’re ready to burst, Javi sighs deeply, flopping the file shut. He grinds out  his cigarette and turns to glance at you, his eyes dark with need. 

Your breath catches.

Then, without a word, Javi pitches forward to rest his head against your thigh. He nuzzles there for a moment, and you find yourself carding your fingers through his hair, helpless against the temptation to touch him, comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a long moment.

“Shh,” you whisper. Guilt gnaws at you. You’re the one who should be sorry. 

But Javi huffs a hot little breath against your leg, and you brush aside all thoughts of who should trust who, of loyalty and ethics and treason and chain of command. Right now, your entire universe is resting his head in your lap, and you’re determined to enjoy this moment, fallout be damned. 

“Baby,” he murmurs into the rough denim of your jeans, and your heart flutters. You bring your opposite hand to rest at the back of his neck, savoring the softness of his skin there, winding your fingers through the curls that brush against his collar.

Javi shudders at your touch, and you remember belatedly that you’re stroking at his number one erogenous zone, teasing him mercilessly without meaning him to. 

Reluctantly, you pull away, resting your palm at the slope of his shoulder instead. “Whoops.”

Javi snorts, craning his neck just enough to arch his only visible eyebrow in your direction. The rest of his face is squished into your thigh.

It’s fucking adorable, and it reminds you all over again how little you deserve him, this precious, perfect man. 

“What’s wrong?” Javi asks, like he’s sensed the direction of your thoughts. He twists further to frown up at you. One hand comes up to rest at the juncture of your hip, his thumb pressing deeply into your skin. 

It’s a comfort. 

“Nothing,” you mutter, because you can hardly say ‘everything.’ You busy yourself with working little circles at the base of Javi’s ear, hoping it’s enough to distract him from his line of questioning. 

 It’s not. Javier Peña has a mind like a steel trap, and he notices everything. “Bull,” he breathes, shutting his eyes despite his best efforts. “You’re worried ‘bout something.”

God, he looks wrecked. 

“I just…” You struggle for the right words to to offer him, come up empty. “God, I hate this.”

That one dark eyes flutters open again, soft with concern. 

“I miss you,” you blurt before he can dig any further. And oh, god, that’s not a lie. You miss Javi so much it fucking burns, even with him nuzzled right here in your lap.

Javi draws a deep breath, rolling over to expose the entire left side of his face. His opposite arm comes up to wrap around your waist so that he’s almost hugging you, his fingers digging gently into your flank. “What time is your shift over, baby?” he mumbles, his one visible eye glinting, nearly feverish with need. 

“Mmm,” you hum, your pulse hammering away in response to the how he’s looking at you. “I can probably be home by eight,” you say sadly. 

And really, that’s pushing it. It all depends on what you hear over the frequencies, and how quickly you can vet it. Anybody’s guess at this point in the game.

Javi blusters a deep sigh that prickles hotly at your inner thigh. “Dammit,” he groans, clenching his eyes shut in frustration.

“What’s your morning like?” In the craziness of the past few days, you’ve completely forgotten his schedule. 

“Early,” Javi mutters darkly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Fuck.” 

“Hardly,” he pouts against your jeans.

And god, you can’t blame him. Resentment wells hot in you. You just want a break, dammit, just a single fucking day to spend with the man you love. 

Is that so much to ask?

Suddenly desperate for more contact, you bend down to drop a gentle kiss at his temple. 

Javi inhales sharply as your lips meet his skin, and you lay there like that, contorting over him in a way that makes your sides ache and probably displays half of your bare back to anybody who happens to walk past the glass walls of the DEA office right now. 

You don’t fucking care. You need this. 

“Can I meet you for lunch tomorrow?” you ask as you finally pull away. You haven’t bothered glancing at your watch, but instinct is telling you that you’re already running late for your shift, and your back is killing you.

Javi sits up, slumping against his office chair with his legs splayed sideways. He’s all wild hair and furrowed brow, and if you weren’t at work, you’d be tempted to crawl into his lap and kiss that contemplative look right off his face.

“That might work,” he says slowly, licking his upper lip a little in that way that means he’s thinking hard. Something coils deep in your belly, and you have to shake your thoughts away from those lips and that tongue, and what all they’re capable of. 

Javi cocks a brow at you, tilting his head a little. “What are you thinking?”

Fuck it, it’s late. You slide off his desk, planting yourself in his lap with your legs spread across his, grinding subtly against his thighs. His belt buckle digs into your belly, but you don’t give a shit. You tilt his face to yours, reveling for half a second in his confused, awestruck expression before you plant your lips on his for a deep, gentle kiss. Javi moans a little at the contact, plaint and responsive against your advances, his hands coming to graze at your back reverently. 

“I was thinking I’d ride,” you whisper against the stubble at his lower jaw just as you lean in to suck at it. 

Javi twitches against you, a tiny jolt of his hips, like he’s tempted to take you right here in his rickety office chair, damn the glass walls. 

“I need to see your face,” you continue, pulling his hands up to rest at your ribs as you rock gently against him, a subtle preview of tomorrow’s menu.

Javi shudders beautifully beneath you. “What, this ol’ thing?’ he teases, nuzzling against your breastbone. You can tell that he’s pleased by the thought. 

“This pretty thing,” you correct, working your way back to his lips. 

Javi bites back a groan as you kiss him. “Was asking about food,” he murmurs against your mouth. “But this is better.” 

“Don’t worry about food,” you say, falling forward to nuzzle against his neck. “I’ll take care of it. And it will be perfect.”

Javi snorts. “Better be takeout, then.” He gathers you against his body with strong arms, cradling you close. You breathe him in, reveling in the distant smell of coffee and stale cigarette, all mixed in with a hint of musky sweat and something smoky and dark that is uniquely Javier Peña. 

“God, baby, I’m looking forward to it,” he confesses against the hollow of your throat, and you throw your head back, shut your eyes and let him ravage you there, just for a moment. 

Javi pulls away far too soon, and you shudder at the loss of him, your body damn near trembling with need. 

He rolls back in his chair, glancing up at you with an apology in his eyes. “It’s eight oh five,” he tells you somberly, and you wince, disentangling yourself from him, stumbling out of his chair and straightening your shirt and threading your fingers through your wild hair in an effort to smooth it down. 

“How do I look?” you ask after a moment, backing up enough to give him the full effect of you. 

Javi’s eyes are burning as he takes you in, damn near shimmering with want and exhaustion and pent up emotion, and you curse Bill Stechner once again for butting his big nose into your relationship, for complicating things that should be so fucking simple.

“Perfect,” Javi says lowly, his lips pursed into a thin line, his eyes glittering with some thought that you can’t name. “Fucking perfect.”

Something wrenches in your chest, and you catch your breath, feeling tears prickle at your eyes. You suck them down, frustrated at how often life in Colombia seems to draw your emotions to the forefront. 

Nobody needs that. 

You lean forward, unable to resist dropping one last, chaste kiss to Javi’s forehead. “Go to bed, Javi,” you whisper against his skin. You pull away, a gentle, teasing smile spreading across your face. “Seriously, baby. It’s just getting stupid now.”

You wink at him, and Javi huffs a little laugh. “Get out of here, Ears,” he grouses, waving a lazy hand at you, but his smile is gentle and soft, and you know that he’s recognized the reference for what it is.

Feeling lighter than you have in days, you shoot him one last cheeky wave. Javi blows a little kiss at you in response, and your heart stutters at the gesture. 

God, he’s such a sap.

You damn near dance to the Centra Spike office, slipping into your headphones a full ten minutes later than you really should. Nobody bats an eyelash, though, and you busy yourself with the normal nightshift bullshit, sipping your coffee and switching to the proper frequencies, the promise of tomorrow glowing in your heart. 

♠

notes/confessions:

I struggled so hard with this. I still don’t love it, but I’m sick of looking at it, so here ya go. Enjoy.

Okay, I know I have thrown some massive plot things at you this week. I know it’s complicated, and I know it’s a lot. Feel free to ask me questions. I’ve tried to make things as clear as possible, but I’m only human, Narcos is complicated af anyway, and Better Love is even worse, probably. 

Look for updates to slow back down again, because a) I actually do have a job, and b) we’re getting close to the point where I’m going to have to start posting If I Fall, and I want to have my chapters outlined a little better and maybe even a few deep before I do that. Look for a few little fluffy one-shots scattered between then and now, but guys... for the most part, the pieces are in place, and we are in the home stretch - of the setup, that is. 

Holy fucking shit.

Tags:  @jedi-mando, @perropascal, @hotspacepilots, @mostly-megan, @starlight-starwrites​, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty, @lv7867, @pascalisthepunkest, @sarahjkl82-blog, @corrupt-fvcker, @artsymaddie, @leonieb, @justanotherblonde23, @princess-and-pedro

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me, @mandoandgrogu, @hybrid-in-progress, @va-guardianhathaway, @speakerforthedead0, @feminist-violinist, @herefortheart, @dontmindifidontt, @blo0dangel 

[dracosathenaeum]

Soulmates ii

Summary: You could only spend so much time running from the inevitable.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,455

PART 1 | PART 3

Draco sat in his usual spot of the astronomy tower; he found himself spending more time here than he had before, it was the only place in the castle that he could truly be alone. He had spent every evening for the last week locked up in the tower, thinking about what you had said.

From when he was a child, his father had told him to cherish his soulmate, that ‘no matter how dark us Malfoy’s got, no matter what situation we got ourselves into, our soulmates were the backbone of the Malfoy’s, our better halves.’ His mother and father were happy, they found a life with one another, a happy one. Maybe he was delusional to think the same was possible for him.

He didn’t even know you; you’d never even spoken before that quidditch match, how could you hate him already? Was he that hard to love? Did you really despise him that much? Thoughts of why he wasn’t enough of you plagued his thoughts the entire week he avoided you, he just didn’t know how to fix what was never there.

He wasn’t about to give up though, he had spent a lifetime waiting for you, he would change your mind no matter what. That was also part of the reason he had spent all that time alone, he needed a plan, a plan to make you see that he wasn’t the cold-hearted monster you thought he was. He was fine with the rest of the world thinking that of him, but not you. He didn’t even know you, but you were supposed to be the one person who was on his side.

You felt guilty to say the least. Calling someone unlovable, (whether or not they actually were) was cruel, your friends made sure you were well aware of that. Perhaps you had gone a little hard on him but surely everyone could see where you were coming from, there had been bets going on since first year about 2 people’s soulmates. Harry Potter’s would be the luckiest and Draco Malfoy’s would be the unluckiest, so why was it you.

After all of this, no one could blame you for being surprised when he started sending you letters. Well you assumed they were from him, the cursive ‘M’ on the green seal was enough of a clue. If you weren’t feeling shit about yourself before, you definitely were once the letters started arriving. They came at breakfast every few days, but as the weeks drew on, they turned into one each day. You never opened them, shoving them straight into your pockets to stash away in your drawers, too afraid to open them, afraid of what they would say.

Your friends saw you do this each morning, yet no number of disapproving looks would change your mind. You just weren’t ready to be tied to Malfoy for the rest of your life. You didn’t want any part in his life, everyone knew what the Malfoys were like, and how much they valued their precious reputation. You just weren’t suited for it, the morals the old family kept so dear disgusted you.

So why did he keep trying? If you were in his position you would’ve stopped trying weeks ago. You weren’t sure what was keeping you from opening the letters. The guilt over him overhearing you those weeks ago? Or that you’d avoided him for so long that it was just second nature to you. The whole school knew you were soulmates, but everyone knew you were avoiding him like the plague, they gave you looks of pity when they walked past you in hallways, you wondered what kind of looks they gave Draco. Not that you cared.

As you made your way to the library, you heard rapid footsteps approaching; afraid it was Draco, you start to pick up your pace, refusing to turn around for a second. “Gods, Y/N slow down. I’m not a quidditch player like you, this is not fair.” Whoops, it was just Liam. Smiling sheepishly, you turned around to apologise to the sweating boy, maybe you ought to whip him into shape on a broom sometime soon, he was not looking good.

“I’m so sorry! I thought you were Draco! But seriously, you need to work on your stamina, if not for you own sake then for Mina’s…” Liam sent you a glare and a vulgar gesture which you admittedly deserved.

“Y/N listen, I know you don’t want to hear it, but Draco came up to me during study hall and he asked me to pass a message to you, he seemed pretty upset, and yeah I am talking about THE Draco Malfoy. Even I’m starting to take pity on him, just listen to his message?” All your friends were traitors, you decided. You knew they all wanted you to give him a chance, but you thought they would understand that if it ever did happen it would be on your own terms, and many many years in the future.

“Fine, what does he want?” You could never win against your friends; you had learnt that the hard way in second year…

“He says he’ll leave you alone but only if you meet him in the astronomy tower at 7pm tonight. He really seemed desperate, I think you should give him a clear answer at least, instead of just straight out avoiding him. I mean you have been a bit of a dick to him, no matter how bad he may be. Soulmates are supposed to be a support pillar for each other through thick and thin, you need him just as much as he needs you. Consider it please? For you own sake if not his.” Tom gave you a sad smile before turning and walking away. Typical, he had just dumped a heavy burden on you and ran away, some friend he was. Your thoughts were more confused than before, even though you didn’t think that was possible.

Draco was an awful human being, you had seen what he was from first year, you had heard the rumours, everyone had. So why was the universe so keen for you to be with him? Why couldn’t you have had someone ordinary and nice as your soulmate. You had questioned yourself over this a hundred times in the past month yet every day you woke up with his name still on your wrist. Maybe your only option was Draco, every day you woke up with nothing changed, was a day closer to accepting the reality that you really didn’t want.

18:00

Draco was shitting himself, truly shitting himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have said he wouldn’t try again after this, what if it didn’t work? What if you said no? What if he fucked up his last chance and you truly didn’t want him at all? He had imbedded crescent marks into both of his arms at this point, pacing back and forth across the dusty floor, reciting what he would say to you. It would have been a lot easier if you had read your letters, but he understood why you hadn’t, he understood that he needed to change to have you. He’d do anything.

19:00

Draco should’ve guessed you weren’t going to show. Of course, you wouldn’t. You hadn’t responded to any of his letters so why would this time be any different. But he’d gotten used to it by now, sitting and waiting in the tower hoping you would’ve read his letters and would give him a chance. But just like the past 3 weeks, it was just him in the tower.

You on the other hand were sat in your common room with your friends, ready for a night of card games and firewhiskey. Everyone knew exactly what you were doing but no one said anything but still gave you a disappointed look every minute or so. You were used to them at this point, besides, the firewhiskey helped to numb everything.

20:00

He had nowhere else to be, an extra hour or two was nothing, and he would kick himself if you showed and he wasn’t there.

You were too sober to be where you were. You were used to your friends being all coupley with each other, you had been since last year yet right now you would rather be anywhere than right there. You found yourself slipping from your common room, just wanting to take a walk and get away from the disapproving stares aimed at you and affectionate actions they gave each other. This sucked.

20:59

Draco had held onto hope this entire time, hope that you would give him this one chance. God if this is how people felt when they lost all hope, he understood why people hated villains, he didn’t want to feel ever again if this was what it was like to care and to have hope.

Shaking his head at his own patheticness, Draco pulled the door handle, ready to leave and just drown in the prefect’s bath that was waiting for him. What he hadn’t expected was for you to be on the other side, pushing the door open as he pulled causing you to fall straight into his arms.

You truly didn’t think you’d end up going to meet Draco, but your legs had ended up taking you up to the astronomy tower after you had spent an hour walking around pretty much everywhere else in the castle. You didn’t think he’s still be there; you were almost 2 hours late after all. You didn’t know what you were doing standing outside the door and not opening it. He wasn’t inside so what was holding you back. You took a deep breath before pushing the door open… and falling straight into someone’s arms.

[#A/N: I really considered ending it here but I was feeling nice ;)]

You scramble out of his arms, running your hands over where his hands had been, but Draco must’ve mistakenly thought you were cold as the next thing you knew, his robes were being draped around your shoulders.

“Thank you but I don’t need it, here take it back.” Your hands moved to remove it from your shoulders, but he brought his hands up to stop you before you could. “You’re just in your pyjamas and I have a jumper on, just wear is please?” You just dopped your arms back down to your sides, a little grateful for the warmth the material brought you, and you really tried not to focus on the scent surrounding you.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here.” You broke the heavy silence that fell between you too, the remnants of alcohol in your body leaving you a little more open than usual.

“I didn’t want you to come and for me not to be here, I was serious about that one chance y/n. I promise I’ll stop trying if you just hear me out.”

The guilt that had been subdued from the alcohol was back looking at his solemn expression. This was the first time since the first incident that you had spoken to him, second time overall in your life, yet talking to him didn’t cause you as much anxiety as you had initially imagined. Maybe your friends were right, maybe you owed both Draco and yourself a chance.

“5 minutes.”

“That’s all I need, thank you.” His shoulders practically sagged in relief, tugging on your heart strings more than you would ever admit.

“I know what you think of me, what the whole school thinks of me. We both heard what you said that day but I’m really trying, can’t you see that? I’ve spent my entire life living in one way and it’s hard to suddenly change everything in my life, but I’m more than willing to do it for you. I just want to make you happy; I want to be happy. Whether we like it or not, we’re bound for life, can’t you give me a chance? A clean beginning? I can show you that I can change, that I’m not the unlovable monster you think I am. I might be a Malfoy but let me prove my worth to you.”

“That’s just it Draco, I don’t want you to have to change, because you think I’ll give you a chance for it. It literally has no meaning that way. You are who you are, it’s literally in your blood! You have been despicable these past 6 years, if you’re going to change then change for yourself and not for me. Your attitude towards non-pure bloods, your hatred towards Harry Potter and every other non-Slytherin, your superiority complex; it’s all a part of you don’t you see? That’s not something you can change overnight.” He was biting his lip so hard it started to bleed but neither of you did anything about it, just stood in tense silence as you waited for a response.

“Okay.”

“Okay? This isn’t ‘The Fault in Our Stars Draco’, you’re going to have to give me more.”

“What is ‘The Fault in Our Stars’? Anyways that’s not important, I meant; okay, I’ll change for me. If that’s what will make you happy.” Your jaw dropped, how was everything you were saying going in one ear and coming out the other, wasn’t he supposed to be one of the top students next to Hermione?

“You’ve literally missed the entire point. I don’t want you to change because of me, I want you to change because it’s the right thing to do, I want you to change and actually believe in what you’re changing for. I want you to be a better person for yourself and not for someone or anything else.”

“How- how do I do that?” he looked like a child whose ice cream you had just stolen.

“Figure that out yourself Draco, I’ll give you a chance when you can prove that to me.”

“But you just said this doesn’t happen overnight, how can I make you see that I mean it?”

“I don’t care if it takes you a few months or a few years, I can’t be with you as you are now Draco. And I don’t want you to fake who you are around me. If I’m going to be with you, I want to love you for you, and right now, I just can’t.” With that you turned to leave the room, completely forgetting about the robe draped over your figure until you got back to your room. You balled it up in your hands and shoved it in the same draw you kept his letters in, out of sight out of mind.

PART 3

#A/N: The first part of this got so much love and I just wasn't expecting that, thank you to everyone who’s read these!! I hope the next part will satisfy youu. This was supposed to go up like 2 hours ago but I got distracted playing among us 👀

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @malfoyquinn @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @potatothingsz @xuckduck @dreamyginny

SOULMATES TAGLIST: @landocalrission @sunsetsofanemoia @yucksiedoodles @hey27 @frau-moon @slytherinbaddiee​ @celestialpuff​

[rocohen20]

Pod Fic: 1988

I like to listen to podfics a lot. And I’m prone to listen to the long ass ones. This post consist of my ablosute favourite Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews podfics. Most of those I have downloaded to my phone and I listened to them too many times, to the point that whole lines pop in my mind from time to time, with the exact way the nerator said them. Every story there is really is the best. I hope you’d enjoy it. 

-[Podfic of] This Love Is Be and End All, by exmanhater, 22:17 minutes

[The written work has been deleted]

Because of an blackhawks book club competition, Jonny goes to the local library and there he meets librarin Patrick.

-[Podfic of] For they are rain upon the binding dust of earth, by exmanhater, 23:39 minutes

[Original written work: For they are rain upon the binding dust of earth, by ingenius, 3,966 words]  

Times when Patrick cried during sex. I really like their relationship in this.

-[Podfic] fight or run, you're just getting older, by AshesandGhost, 28:36 minutes

[The written work is not available]

Beta Patrick imprinted on human Jonny as his alpha within the first week of meeting him. The story is about him trying to cope with that.

-5 things everyone really didn't need to know about kaner and tazer's sex life, thanks by grim_lupine [Podfic] , by Rhea314 (Rhea), 37:33 minutes

[The written work is not available]

the team finds way too much about Patrick and Jonathan’s sex life.

-a light-handed approach to regulation by hazel [Podfic], by Rhea314 (Rhea), 03:37:19 hours

[Original written work: a light-handed approach to regulation, by hazel, 34,078 words]

Alpha Patrick is drafted to the team with Omega Jonny. It leads to a lot of false assumptions. 

-[Podfic] Highly Sticked, by marianas, 21:38 minutes

[Original written work: Highly Sticked, by orphan_account, 3,984 words]

Patrick wants to measure the team’s packages, but mainly he wants to measure Jonny’s.

-It's a Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes by Svmadelyn [Podfic], by Rhea314 (Rhea), 03:33:21 hours

[Original written work: It's a Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes, by svmadelyn, 34,053 words]

Patrick kane has feeling for Jonny, he tries to fuck them away.

-Like Other Girls, by smoulderandbraids, 01:33:30 hours

[Original written work: Like Other Girls, by BlackEyedGirl, 14,212 words]

This amazing fic is about pat and her relationship with the media and the team. I really recommand listening to the podfic version. Special guests: girl!Sidney Crosby, girl!Tyler Seguin.

There is also a fanart for this fic that I think is fabulous: Like Other Girls art, by essouffle

-[Podfic of] Savoy Truffle, by thisissirius, 47:02 minutes

[Original written work is not available. There is another Podfic version that I did not listened to it, if you are interested]

Patrick goes back to baking after madison, Jonny found his secret and enjoyed it since.

-Say It With Flowers by Hazel [Podfic], by Rhea314 (Rhea), 47:33 minutes

[Original written work: say it with flowers , by hazel, 6,741 words]

Patrick can speak to flowers. 

-Scattered Pieces of My Mind [Podfic] , by speakingwosound (sev313), 02:28:16 hours

[Original written work: Scattered Pieces of My Mind, by orphan_account, 22,581 words]

 after a gay sex tape scandal Patrick gets traded to the Pittsburgh Penguins.

- [Podfic] Tour de Force, by marianas, 02:09:26 hours

[Original written work is not available]

Patrick writes a book during the offseason after the madison incident. This book became a smashing hit. I love this story so much, and what I liked the most about it is the writing process of Patrick.

-yet we will make him run [PODFIC], by Opalsong, 04:14:06 hours

[Orignal written work is not available]

Lit major Patrick kane befriends the captain of The Chicago Blackhawks. This fic is amazing, I love this story so much and I heard the whole fic so many times.

-Keep You On My Arm [PODFIC], by bessyboo, 39:17 minutes

[Original written work: Keep You On My Arm, by rsadelle, 6,732 words]

The team started to go to gay bars. Jonathan keeps pretending to be Patrick’s boyfriend.

-Drawing Lines In The Palm of Your Hand [PODFIC], by Opalsong, 02:21:03 hours

[Original written work is not available anymore] 

The story follows genderqueer Pat. This story was really interesting. 

-Shot right through with a bolt of blue by mermaid [podfic], by Rhea314 (Rhea), 05:32:04 hours

[Original written work: Shot right through with a bolt of blue, by mermaid, 54,722 words]

When Jonny is a little kid he discovered that he could shoot fire out of his eyes, ever since he tried to bury it deep inside.

-Our Family or Whatever by Rsadelle [Podfic], by Rhea314 (Rhea), 09:56 minutes

[Original written work: Our Family or Whatever , by rsadelle, 1,550 words]

Jonny finds out that Patrick is a dad, and he helps him with the child

-we like to get our kicks in this one way [PODFIC], by Opalsong, 04:16:15 hours

[Orignal written work: we like to get our kicks in this one way, by nebulia, 21,929 words (5 works)]

This is a collection of stories from girls of the NHL. The first few parts are about Patrick/Jonny.

-[Podfic of] According to Plan, by exmanhater, 14:41 minutes

[Original written work: According to Plan , by rsadelle, 2,546 words]

Patrick needs to speak to Jonny about their life plan.

-[Podfic] chicago is so two years ago, by AshesandGhost, 46:26 minutes

[Original written work: chicago is so two years ago, by Fireblasts, 8,839 words]

Jonahan and Patrick both adopted a dog at the same day, and named it after the other. That leads to freaky stuff.

-[Podfic of] Write Our Names On the Wall, by exmanhater, 01:31:55 hours 

[Original written work: Write Our Names On the Wall, by twentysomething, 15,995 words]  

always a girl Patrick and Jonathan start to sleep together. It’s eventually leads to feelings.

-[Podfic of] The Limited Circle, by exmanhater, 34:09 minutes

[Original work is not available anymore]

Jonny is an introvert, Patrick doesn’t mind that at all. The intimacy there is really good.

-[Podfic of] Space Kaner, by exmanhater, 18:05 minutes

[Original written work is not available anymore]

Star Trek! AU. You don’t need to know anything about Star Trek. The story is really funny and light-hearted.

-[Podfic] You Give Love a Bad Name, by AshesandGhost, 20:59 minutes

[Original written work is not available anymore]

Jonny is a sex-column consulted. He have a crush for the worker in his go-to sex shop.

-[Podfic of] Dealing with Dragons (Hockey RPF Style), by exmanhater, 13:20 minutes

 [Original written work: Dealing with Dragons AU, by orphan_account]

When Patrick needs to marry he runs away and started to live with a dragon. This story is humorous and fun.

-[Podfic of] something old, something new, by exmanhater, 01:51:24 hours

[Original written work: something old, something new, by longtime_lurker, 19,419 words]

Always a girl! Patty takes teammate Jonny to her sister’s wedding to save face. 

-[Podfic of] our song is the way you laugh, by exmanhater, 59:06 minutes

[Original written work: our song is the way you laugh, by orphan_account, 9,951 words]

In order to get up on Sharpy, Jonny convinces Patrick to fake a relationship with him.

-[Podfic of] Racy, by exmanhater, 31:50 minutes

[Original written work: Racy, by Lenore, 5,245 words]

After an ill-advised decision of drunk Patrick, he can’t look in Jonny’s direction without thinking of that said decision.

-[Podfic of] three hundred sandwiches, by exmanhater, 01:25:18 hours

[Original written work is not available anymore]

Patrick is making three hundred sandwiches for Jonny, maybe then he would get his man. 

-[Podfic of] Somewhere Only We Know, by exmanhater, 02:17:00 hours

[Original written work: Somewhere Only We Know, by jezziejay, 21,705 words]

Patrick is having an existential criris on his 28 birthday. I love the feelings in this story and the pacing.

-[Podfic of] Kiss and Ride on the CTA, by exmanhater, 52:39 minutes

[Original written work is not available anymore]

Patrick hates the regular guy he sees on his mornin comute. Ben Smith took it upon himself to change it. 

-[Podfic of] the days are young, by exmanhater, 42:49 minutes

[Original written work is not available anymore]

After the 2010 Olympic Patrick feels like Jonny is hiding something from him, he tries to figure out what.

 -[Podfic of] The slowest spark is a breather, by exmanhater, 13:05 minutes

[Original written work is not available anymore]

When Patrick was in the bathroom Sharpy dicked around in his phone contacts. This leads to an embarrassing situation.

-[Podfic of] Orbital Resonance, by exmanhater, 07:39:08 hours

[Original written work: Orbital Resonance, by joyfulseeker & thefourofswords, 80,825 words]

Patrick and Jonny started to have threesomes with different girls. This leads to feelings and more.

-[Podfic] I've Got A Feeling (I Hope You're Feeling It Too), by RsCreighton, 01:43:36 hours

[Original written work: I've Got A Feeling (I Hope You're Feeling It Too), by textbookchoices, 14,746 words]

Patrick wants to be in Jonny’s pack when they grew up. In order to do that he would have to be a beta. This story is so good and emotional.

-[Podfic] Black Lettering, by RsCreighton, 01:09:18 hours

[Original written work: Black Lettering, by textbookchoices, 10,472 words]

name-on-the-wrist soulmate au.

-[Podfic of] Sign it with your heart, by exmanhater, 56:22 minutes

[The original written work is not available for now]

High school AU where nerd Patrick started to tutor Jock Jonny.

-[Podfic of] you ruined everything in the best way, by exmanhater, 01:30:23 hours

[Original written work: you ruined everything in the best way, by thisissirius, 14,663 words]

When Brendon is de-aged into a kid it’s up to Patrick and Jonny to take care of him. This leads to different decisions.

 -[Podfic of] call it magic, by exmanhater, 59:22 minutes

[Original written work: call it magic, by thundersquall, 10,640 words]

Patrick is turned into a faerie.

GOOD LISTENING TO EVERYONE!

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

 With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

 They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

 But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

 Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

 I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

 Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

 Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

 Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

 I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

 A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

 I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

 Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

 Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

 Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

 I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

 A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

 Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

 Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

 Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

 Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

 I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

 A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

 Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

 A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

 I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

 Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

 I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

 A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

 And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

 If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

 I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

 A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

 Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

 Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

 Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

 Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

 I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

 Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

 Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

 Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

 See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

 I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

 Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

 Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

 Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

 Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

 Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

 “Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

 I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

 A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

 I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

 Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

 My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

 Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

 I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

 Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

 That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

 My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

 Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

 I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

 A real doctor: Good.

 I saw him type but typed my question faster.

 Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

 Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

 I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

 A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

 Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

 HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

 I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

 It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

 Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

 I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

 HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

 There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

 I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

 Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

 My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

 But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

 I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

 I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

 It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

 Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #154

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making one of our most requested builds to date and the final Hassan so far, the First Hassan. He’s uh... not exactly subtle, huh? To make this walking engine of death, take 2 parts Samurai Fighter for some sword skills and magic resistance, 1 part Soulknife Rogue for obscene amounts of damage and an unnoticeable blade, and sprinkle some Grave Cleric to taste, just enough for some supernatural abilities and even more damage.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Our first anniversary! How romantic!

Race and Background

The Old Man of the Mountain was Human a long time ago, but he reached his fame during his undeath, making him a Hollow One. He’s also the closest thing we’re going to get to a Revenant in FGO, as in normal human history he’d only pop up when a younger Hassan needs a lesson in humility. All this adds up to you getting +1 Strength, +1 Wisdom and +1 Constitution, as well as a Relentless Nature that means you gain 1 hit point at the start of your turn while bloodied, you come back to life 24 hours after dying, and you always know exactly where the hassan who fucked up is. The downside to this is your go back to the afterlife as soon as you finish your task here on earth. You are Ageless, which is exactly what it says on the tin. You Cling to Life, so rolling a 16 or higher on a death save is as good as rolling a 20, bringing you back to 1 HP instantly. Your Revenance means you show up as undead when it comes to magical effects that sense that sort of thing, and you can use your Unsettling Presence to give a creature disadvantage on its next save for a minute as an action. You can use that last one once per long rest.

Hoo boy that’s a lot of racial bonuses. Fortunately your background’s nice and simple- as an Acolyte, you get Religion and Insight proficiency.

Ability Scores

You like big swords and big armor, so get that Strength up as high as possible for big swings. After that is Wisdom. We need it for multiclassing and for actually finding the Hassans. Little buggers are sneaky. Third is Dexterity- you don’t really care about stealth, but you are a ghost. Plus we need it for multiclassing. You’re literally undead- that makes you hard to kill. Your Constitution’s not half bad. Your Charisma is okay, you’re good at intimidating people, but you’re not that personable aside from that. Finally, dump Intelligence. I would never call you stupid, you’ve just got more important things to deal with than Arcana and Medicine. I know religion is an intelligence check, we’ll take care of it in a bit.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: If we want that creepy skull armor we’ve got to start as a Fighter, which makes you proficient in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as Intimidation and Perception. Like I said earlier, you’re very scary, and you’ve got to see your target to kill them, which is actually important when you hunt Hassans for an unliving.

You also get a Fighting Style. Your Superior Technique lets you make a Menacing Attack once per short rest. You add 1d6 to your attack’s damage, and if they fail a wisdom save (DC 8+str mod+proficiency) they’re frightened of you for the round.

You also gain a Second Wind which you can use to heal yourself as a bonus action. It’s like your normal healing factor, just a bit faster.

2. Rogue 1: Multiclassing into rogue gives you proficiency with Stealth. It’s not that you care about sneaking around that much, but you are a ghost.

You can also use your Sneak Attack to add extra damage to a blow once per turn. You have to be using a finesse weapon, and either have advantage on the attack or have another ally within 5′ of them. 

Finally, you get Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency bonus in Intimidation and Religion. 

You also learn Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

3. Rogue 2: Second level rogues can use their Cunning Action to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a bonus action. You might not really be a ghost here, but you can certainly disappear like one.

4. Rogue 3: At your third level or roguery you become a Soulknife, earning you some serious Psionic Power. You get a number of d6 equal to twice your proficiency bonus, which you can use in a couple different ways. You regain all your psionic dice after long rests, and you can use a bonus action to get one back each short rest.

Currently, you can use psionic dice on your Psi-Bolstered Knack, adding the number you roll to an ability check you’re proficient in. If it succeeds, the die is expended.

You can also use it to activate Psychic Whispers. You can speak telepathically with a number of creatures equal to your proficiency bonus, for a number of hours equal to what you rolled. You also have to be within 1 mile of each other. You can use it once per long rest for free, or by spending a die later.

More importantly, you gain Psychic Blades, melee weapons that deal psychic damage and have finesse. If it hits a creature, it doesn’t leave a mark.

Also your sneak attack is 2d6 now.

5. Rogue 4: We’re not investing too much into constitution, so use your first Ability Score Improvement to get the Tough Feat. This gives you an extra 10 hp now, and 2 more each time you level up from here on out.

6. Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues get an Uncanny Dodge, letting you halve the damage on an incoming attack as a reaction. Hitting one of your vitals is a... tricky proposition, to say the least.

You also get a bigger sneak attack this round- 3d6.

7. Fighter 2: Second level fighters get an Action Surge once per short rest. It’ll add an extra action to your turn.

8. Fighter 3: Third level fighters get a martial adept, and the Samurai get their FIghting Spirit. Three times per long rest, you gain advantage on all your attacks for the turn, and gain some temporary HP as a bonus action. Free sneak attacks and more health! It’s a win for everyone!

9. Fighter 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for stronger attacks. Remember, finesse just means you canuse dexterity, not that you have to.

10. Cleric 1: Now it’s time to make things scary. First level Grave clerics can cast and prepare Spells using their Wisdom, like Bane and False Life to scare your enemies even more and make yourself even harder to kill. You also gain a Circle of Mortality, letting you heal creatures for the maximum possible if they’re at 0 HP. You also also learn the cantrip Spare the Dying, which for you has a longer range and shorter casting time.

You also gain Eyes of the Grave, letting you sense undead nearby Wisdom Modifier times per long rest.

For cantrips, you also learn Resistance to be a little bit better than everyone else, Toll the Dead for hopefully obvious reasons, and Thaumaturgy to scare the crap out of anyone who hasn’t run off once the bell sounds.

11. Cleric 2: The real fireworks start now. Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in one of two ways. The classic Turn Undead is fine, but we’re here more for Path to the Grave. Invoking this as an action gives a target creature vulnerability to you or your ally’s next attack for this round.

12. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack each attack action. Attack twice with one action, or four times with two.

13. Rogue 6: Sixth level rogues get another round of Expertise, doubling your proficiency with Stealth and Perception.

14. Rogue 7: Your last level of rogue grants you Evasion, making your failed dexterity saves act like successes, and successes ignore the damage entirely.

15. Fighter 6: Use this ASI to bump up your Strength one last time, maximizing it for the most damage and accuracy possible.

16. Fighter 7: Seventh level samurai become Elegant Courtier, adding their wisdom bonuses to persuasion checks. I’d suggest talking with your DM to change it to intimidation checks for obvious reasons, but that’s on you. This also gives you proficiency with Wisdom saves.

17. Fighter 8: Use this ASI to grab the Sentinel feat, dropping a creature’s movement to 0 when you hit it with an opportunity attack. You can also make opportunity attacks against creatures attacking others, and you can make them against creatures who have disengaged. The perfect weapon to fight against assassins.

18. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting them re-roll a failed save once per long rest. Protection of the Faithful is a hell of a drug.

19. Fighter 10: Tenth level Samurai have a Tireless Spirit, letting you regain a use of Fighting Spirit at the start of a fight if you’re all out. Your duty doesn’t end. Ever.

20. Fighter 11: Your capstone level gives you another Extra Attack each action, three per turn, or six with your action surge.

Pros:

Having a weapon that leaves no trace is a serious upside for someone like you. Your expertise in stealth also means you have a pretty good shot at avoiding unnecessary fights, even with heavy armor.

You excel at both burst and consistent damage, specializing in hard to avoid psychic attacks. Path to the Grave combined with your Menacing Attack and Sneak Attack will let you deal (6d6+5)*2 damage in a single blow. It’s not as powerful as Sanson’s, but you can use your action surge to set it up a lot easier. That and your maxed out strength makes hitting creatures accurately a lot easier.

With proficiency in two of the three big saves and Evasion propping up your one weakness, you’re pretty solid against magical attacks, which will certainly make dealing with the Hassans a lot easier.

Cons:

Using Path to the Grave for your own attacks is still kind of awkward, and you just have to hope you can get a solid hit in that round. Not much you can do to fix that.

I’m always going to knock a build a point if you have to bend the rules to make it work. Elegant Courtier just doesn’t work for the build rules as written, and technically you can’t use psychic blades for attacks of opportunity. I don’t feel those are massive power shifts, but it’s something you’d have to talk with your DM about, so it’s still a negative.

We don’t need Dexterity at all, except for multiclassing minimums. Starting with that 13 in another ability score would be very useful.

[tanzaniiite]

DAD BOD • SINGLE DAD DAICHI

requests: OPEN

warnings: body image insecurities

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

a/n: this chapter takes place further in the future

please reblog and reply, engagement is both fun & important ✨

happy birthday to my favorite captain 🥳 and dad bod daichi ftw

“Hey, do have any idea where your father is?”

Suzuki, now sixteen-years-old, glanced at you from her spot on the couch. “No… I think he’s still in the bathroom” She replied watching as your eyes widened slightly in shock.

“Still? I swear if we lose this reservation—”

You muttered slightly, mainly to yourself, as you attempted to put your two-year-old son’s shoes on. “No shoes!” Seiji cried kicking his shoes off for the umpteenth time. You let out an exasperated sigh, it was times like this you wish your husband would help. Seiji admired his father to no end and practically only listened to him. When you found out you were having a boy, you thought he would be a mama’s boy by default. You were sorely mistaken, both Suzuki and Seiji were suckers for their dad. “Ji, please let mommy put on your shoes. Please?” You pleaded but the moment you saw the little pout appear, you knew you lost.

“No shoes!”

“It’s 18:30 (6:30)” 

Suzuki called out since you had asked her to keep track of time for you. What the hell is taking him so long? You thought, picking up Seiji and walking to the living room. “Thank you, watch your brother for me. I’m going to check on your dad and make sure he’s not dead” You quipped passing the toddler off to his sister, who welcomed him with open arms. “Hey stink bug, you know, if you don’t put on your shoes you won’t get chicken tenders” The teen fibbed as her brother gaped at her statement.

Knowing he was in good hands, you made your way upstairs to the bathroom. You knocked lightly before entering, “Hey diva, let’s wrap it up, please. I would like to not lose your birthday reservation” You stated, hands on your hips. Normally, Sawamura would let out a small chuckle at your bossiness and tease you on your insistent need to be on time but today, you were met with nothing. “Sorry.. I must’ve lost track of time,” Daichi apologized before turning to you, “how do I look?” He inquired.

You smiled slightly as you looked him over. Daichi was wearing a simple black button-down, paired with matching black slacks and a red tie pulled the whole look together. You always did like how he looked in black. Moving closer to him, you started fixing his crooked tie. “Other than your tie being crooked… you look incredibly handsome” You complimented undoing the tie to retie it.

“Really? Are you sure?”

That question made you freeze. You glanced up at your husband, who wasn’t even looking at you but in the mirror instead. His brown eyes looked downcast as he looked over his appearance. You were quickly able to deduce what this was about, granted you use to ask Sawamura the same thing for months after your son was born. After having Seiji, your body wasn’t the same, most of the baby weight you were able to shed but some remained. You had stretch marks seemingly everywhere. That first year wasn’t the best for you but Daichi was there. Always reassuring you that you were beautiful both with and without your stretch marks. That gaining weight was normal after having a child and that a little more weight never hurt anyone.

You wanted to be the same pillar he was for you. 

“What do you mean? Of course, you look handsome,” You claimed looking at him, “do you think otherwise?” You asked raising an eyebrow. Daichi chuckled nervously, he knew how gung ho you were about body positivity and how you hated when others looked down on themselves. He knew he (especially) wasn’t exempt from that. “I… I don’t know, don’t I look.. bigger?” He questioned rubbing the back of his neck.

Turning your attention to the mirror, you knew what he was talking about. Daichi didn’t have the same body he had in high school or even the same body he had in his twenties, duh. Weight is a fickle thing that fluctuates any chance it gets. It also comes with age, you both were way past your twenties and well into your late thirties - early forties. It’s only natural that his body changed, you would be concerned if it hadn’t. You finished tying his tie and walked behind him. Sawamura looked at you as he watched you in the mirror. After wrapping your arms around his torso you spoke,

“Yeah but that’s okay”

“But it looks weird”

“I think it looks hot”

You smirked as Daichi’s cheeks flushed slightly. Good to know that after all these years you could still fluster him. However, his somber mood was quick to return. “Wouldn’t you prefer if I had my more fit body? Like how I was in high school? Or even when we reconnected?” Sawamura asked turning back to look at you. You decided to answer his question with a question, “Do you prefer how I looked before I had Seiji?” You inquired. Daichi’s eyebrow’s furrowed, “What? Of course not—” He started quickly taking your hands into his own.

“Did you like me better without the dozens of stretch marks? Without the baby weight?”

“Y/n, what are you talking about? No, you’re gorgeous just as you are. Before and after Seiji”

You hummed slightly, “Then why would I prefer high school you over current you? Hm?” You questioned crossing your arms over your chest. It took Daichi a second before he started laughing slightly. It didn’t take long before you joined him, “See what I did there?” You laughed. Your husband nodded, running his fingers through his hair, “Yes. I see what you did” He chuckled. You smiled slightly, glad to see him smiling. You pulled him down by the tie and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Daichi, I love you for you. I don’t care what you look like, although your looks did play a minor part” You teased pinching his cheek. Daichi just shook his head, “Thank you, love, I needed that,” He claimed pulling you into an embrace that you happily returned.

“Where did this come from anyway?”

“I guess from looking in the mirror too long and..”

“And?”

“It’s embarrassing”

“Hun, we’ve been together for five years and known each other for longer, try me”

Your husband sighed dejectedly and mutter something under his breath. You raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. “I said; Seiji called me a teddy bear the other day” He mumbled not looking in your direction. You couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s so cute! Aw, I’m going to call you teddy bear from now on” You stated a wide smile adorning your face. Daichi ran a hand over his face, attempting to hide his smile, “Please don’t” He pleaded. Before you could even answer, a loud knock interrupted.

“I don’t know what you guys are doing and I don’t want to know but it’s almost 19:00 (7:00)”

Daichi glanced at you, “Isn’t the reservation for 19:30 (7:30)?”. You sighed and closed your eyes in realization, “Yes. Yes it is” You confirmed. 

“Also, Ji will not put on his shoes for whatever reason”

Suzuki added. You were on the brink of melting down, Sawamura could see that. You worked so hard to get a reservation at a restaurant that was fully booked all year long just for his birthday. And the fact that your two-year-old won’t put on his shoes was pushing you dangerously close to the edge of a breakdown, was downright embarrassing. 

“…I could put on my sirens to get us there faster”

You looked at your husband, your eyes filled to the brink with love.

“I love you so fucking much”

taglist [open]: @mus1caln0tes @awh-bliss @i-am-trying-i-promise @tsukkisfatsimp @elianetsantana

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

[kateis-cakeis]

Alivebur Saw Himself As A Villain... For A Reason

btw: suicide tw

SO, hi, hello, you are not ready for all I’m about to say.

The other night I was thinking about why, Alivebur, the character bound to literary devices in the way he was - always referring to Chekhov’s Gun - would see himself as a villain and not like, an anti-hero.

Because blowing up L’Manberg was a bad thing to do, but he saw it as right to avoid more bloodshed: 

“Okay, me and you, we both agree we’re right. We’re in the right here.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 16:27)

and

“Look, do you know how much blood was shed to get L’Manberg to the point it was at? You know what would happen if we manage to get L’Manberg back again? More blood would be shed, and we would be the illegitimate rulers of a nation.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 18:52)

So ultimately, in Alivebur’s own unreliable narration of the story, he would surely see himself as the anti-hero, since avoiding another war by blowing up L’Manberg would be a sorta... noble thing to do.

But then I realised, he had to get others to see him as a villain.

Why?

“Tommy, none of us know what we’re doing. We’re fucked, we were fucked the minute we were thrown out.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 19:39)

Because Alivebur... Alivebur may have wanted to die the second he was exiled.

Just look at how he acted after running. He was speechless, quiet for a long time, he said:

“Tommyinnit, I am a slow burning fuse. I am a long slow burning fuse, but I’m telling you now, over the next couple weeks, I am gonna be a different man than the one JSchlatt crossed. I can feel it.” - (Wilbur’s The Election Results: 52:31, 22nd Sep)

He maintained that he was a bad guy, once he thought Schlatt was doing better for the nation than he had.

“It feels like we’re the bad guys, Tommy. This doesn’t feel correct.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 15:49)

And the way he says it, suggests that he’s thinking from an outside perspective. 

“Then let’s be the bad guys. Tommy, why not? Why not? Look, our nation’s gone, our nation’s far behind us, Tommy. Let’s blow that motherfucker to smithereens.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 16:33)

This too ^ it feels like he’s thinking from how others will see this.

And then, this quote got me thinking:

“This isn’t about me, this is about blowing up Manberg, this is about just finishing it. We’ve got this! Look, Tommy, what else do I need to convince you? The festival was a front.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:15:47, 16th Oct)

It ties all this into a neat bow, because of the ‘This is about just finishing it’. But we know now that finishing it did not just pertain to L’Manberg, it was referring to himself too. 

Finishing it meant himself, and that seems like a priority. Blowing it up. Finishing it.

Alivebur pushed towards being a villain, not only to end L'Manberg, but to end himself....

If everyone hates him for taking away their home, then someone would kill him....

Alivebur knew fine well he wasn't going to survive the 16th of November. It’s clear in the way he acts, constantly telling everyone he’s the traitor, wearing no armour in the battle (which is the opposite to the Independence War where he willingly wears armour for the fight), telling Tommy he was gonna hate him.

But it was blowing up L’Manberg that got him there. As if he couldn’t die until it was gone. And it’s a quote from the festival that really makes this clear: 

“I thought today was gonna be my last time here, honestly. I genuinely, I was considering, blowing up L’Manberg, having a big moment where I’m like looking over the rubble, and I’m like ‘I’ve changed as a person’. But like after this, I am just deeper. I wanna do different, more blowing up things.” (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:29:34, 16th Oct)

This suggests that if he blew it up during the festival, then he would have died on the 16th of October. 

Because, consider this part of the line: “Having this big moment where I’m looking over the rubble, and I’m like ‘I’ve changed as a person’.”

And what does he do on the 16th of November?

He looks over the rubble, shouting about his unfinished symphony, and throws his sword over to Phil, begging to be killed. If that doesn’t encapsulate having a big moment and knowing he’s changed, I don’t know what does.

He used L’Manberg blowing up, him doing that, to justify his death. Maybe he just... couldn't pick up the sword himself and do it, he needed someone to do it for him.

Perhaps his long burning fuse was metaphorically connected to the TNT that blew up, his suicide.

This also ties in with how Alivebur had connected himself to L’Manberg so fully. It was his ideals, it was what he put himself up to fight for, what he started. Sure, Tommy was there too, but Alivebur lived there from the start, it was his entire life on the SMP, the second he lost that... the second it became as shadow of itself...

That was the second Alivebur decided to be seen as a villain so he could do whatever he wanted and blow it up, killing it so that he could die himself (props to @bryzy-mc for pointing that out to me).

Like he said, he had nothing to lose, and he really didn't, he'd lost everything, even his son! (Since he didn't know he was a spy.)

He knew pressing that button would change everything, would make him that villain he so desperately wanted to be seen as. And the second it happened, was the second he could beg for death, and get it. 

Alivebur is a character who connected his life to literary devices, he knows story telling, he knows the quickest way to get killed off is to do something bad and ask a hero character to kill him... (See Ghostbur calling Phil St George for slaying Alivebur.)

After all, it makes it easier for the other characters and the audience to accept it.

On the 16th of November, we all watched Alivebur carry out his own murder (props to @bryzy-mc again for that), one he had been planning for an entire month. No wonder he looked so happy when he blew up L’Manberg, he knew his idea of ‘peace’ was coming, after all... he says it himself on the 20th of January:

“Ohhhhhhh my god…! I was so free! I was liberated.” - (Tommy’s The Dream SMP Finale: 1:32:30, 20th Jan)

He saw his death as freedom, as being liberated. In the end, he only ever wanted peace, and he turned to dying to achieve that. It wasn’t a good end, nobody ever wants to die, and maybe... if the resurrection goes well, his story can show us that life matters.

Maybe he can find true peace in life, and wouldn't that be hopeful? 

[horansqueen]

New Angel - Chapter 20

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2  ☆ chapter 3  ☆ chapter 4  ☆ chapter 5  ☆ chapter 6  ☆ chapter 7  ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14 ☆ chapter 15 ☆ chapter 16 ☆ chapter 17 ☆ chapter 18 ☆ chapter 19

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.5k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

I didn't expect Millie to bring me to the roof but she finally sat me down before walking to the small shed a bit further. She searched for a key and finally unlocked the door and it made me frown. Every single day, I found out something new about my best friend and it was amazing. I had known her for years but I actually didn't really know who she was.

"Hey, let me help you." I proposed, trying to get back up on my feet as she walked closer, bringing a mattress with her.

"Sit the fuck down, Horan." she quickly, replied, making me raise my nose up.

"Don't call me that." I mumbled, letting out a short groan and making her lips curl on the left.

She let the mattress fall on the ground and placed a blanket on it before walking back to me and bending down to my level, raising her eyebrows. The closeness of our faces made me smile and she rolled her eyes at me, smiling too.

"Do you think you can walk until the mattress or are you too drunk?"

"Drunk? Me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Millie laughed when I tripped again but helped me find my balance back before bringing me to the mattress. Quickly, I lied down on my back and blinked a few times. My smile disappeared when I saw all the stars in the sky and I felt the mattress move a bit as Millie lied down next to me. We remained silent for a while, my eyes moving from one sparkling star to an other as I tried to watch all of them even if I knew it was impossible. I felt a bit dizzy but the fresh air made me feel less nauseous and after a while, I even felt better. I don't know how long we stayed in silence but I realized we couldn't hear the sound and the music coming from our apartment and I enjoyed the silence more than I thought I would.

"I come here quite often." Millie suddenly broke it softly, making me realize I enjoyed her voice even more than the silence. "Just to look at the stars and think."

"Did you ever bring Louis?"

"No, only you."

I turned my head her way but she was staring up at the sky and I didn't dare adding anything about that. I didn't want to make her sad by talking about Louis but sometimes, it was stronger than me.

"So, what happened?" she finally asked after licking her lips.

She finally turned her head my way to glance at me before looking back up at the stars as I tried to remember exactly what had happened only half an hour ago.

"Grace said she loved me, I told her it was over, then Summer called and heard Grace's voice. I don't know what it triggered in her but she decided to come. Then Grace thought I replaced her and got drunk, and she kissed me just as Summer walked in. She saw us and was pissed. I told her I didn't want a relationship now, and I got drunk."

"Amazing summary." Millie replied after about a minute, turning to look at me again with a smirk on her lips.

"I just don't know what I want." I admitted, shaking my head slightly, focusing on a specific star and staring at it, "I told Grace it was over but is it really? I told Summer I was not ready for a relationship but is that even true? Or am I just not ready for a relationship with her? Should I date Summer or Grace? Should I even date anyone?"

The more I talked, the angrier and more confused I was getting. I closed my eyes and let out a groan before bringing both my hands on my face, pressing my palms on my eyes.

"Maybe if you can't pick, it just means you don't really love or want to be with either of them."

I felt my heart jump in my chest and held my breath. I wanted to be mad at my best friend for throwing that at me, but the her words actually made sense and it annoyed me. Before I actually got to really know Millie, I would hate how forward she was and simply get pissed at her. This time, it was different. Yes, what she had said was bothering me, but I was realizing that it bothered me because she was right.

"That... actually makes sense." I admitted gently, letting my arms fall on each side of my body. "Maybe It's not that I'm not ready to date, maybe I just don't want to date them. Then again, I don't intend to ever fall in love again. Fuck love."

"Yea, I have to agree with you on that." Millie whispered before letting out a sigh.

"Oh, by the way, I promised I'd let you know if I ever refused head from a girl, so you need to know that tonight, I did."

Quickly, Millie turned her whole body my way and when I moved my head to look at her, a curious smile was gracing her lips and it made me chuckle.

"From Summer or from Grace?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

I smiled at her with amusement and ended up turning my body her way too to face her. "Grace. I don't know what she was thinking about, and I was not sure if I'd regret it or not but I really don't."

"Mm, if Summer doesn't give blowjobs and you refused one from Grace, do you see the day where your dick will be in a girl's mouth again?"

"Summer and I aren't exclusive, remember?" I pointed out.

"Pretty sure those rules were made before she told you she had feelings for you. Maybe it changed..."

That thought made my heart jump in my chest but I just shrugged a shoulder.

"I'm gonna have to discuss it with her." I let out before sighing. "I didn't know having a friend with benefits was so complicated." Millie started laughing and I let my eyes roam on her face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing it's just... a friend with benefit isn't complicated. Girls just tend to develop feelings for you and if you don't feel the same, then it can definitely get complicated."

"You're right, it's love that's complicated, which is cool with me because I'm not falling in love ever again. "I repeated for the third time on that night.

"I don't think we can really control that, but I don't want anything to do with love ever again either."

I was barely tipsy by then, enjoying the cool breeze on my skin and the time spent with my best friend. I didn't want to think about the party in our apartment and how we'd have to clean everything in the morning. I just hoped everyone would be gone when we'd go back inside, especially Grace, Summer, and Louis. It was insane how much trouble and mess they added to our lives and how peaceful and fun it was when it was only Millie and I.

"Why didn't I ever take the time to get to know you better before?" I asked in a whisper, sliding my hand on the blanket and leaning my cheek on it.

"You were probably too busy trying to find a good comeback to my teasing." she grinned and it made my lips curl into a fond smile. "We were like, frienemies or something."

"Naa, we just teased each other, we were never cruel or anything. We were friends, just a different kind of friends."

"I prefer what we have now."

"Me too." I breathed out before licking my lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Crash and burn." she quickly replied, her lips curling more as she chuckled, making me roll my eyes.

I knew we were there to watch the stars but instead, I kept staring in Millie's eyes for a few minutes in silence. There were so many things in my mind and it was tough to put everything back in place, probably because of the alcohol running in my veins and the tiredness making my eyelids so much heavier than normal. I didn't want to close my eyes, though. I didn't want this discussion to stop, and I started regretting all the drinks I swallowed. Perhaps I would be much more awake if I wasn't so tipsy.

"I have something to tell you, and I know you won't feel like it, but if you said yes it would be amazing."

I saw my best friend frown and pressed my lips together. I had to ask her now because I had no idea how long it would take me to convince her and I really feared her reaction.

"Spill, Niall."

"Yea, okay, so. I sort of told Louis we could spend the night with him tomorrow?" I pointed out, noticing her lips parting immediately. "I mean we were all friends, and you and I are even closer now! Imagine how great this friendship between the three of us could be!"

"It can never go back to how it used to be." she pointed out, as I nodded slowly.

"I know, but it's worth trying to save, yea?" I explained low, my eyebrows raised. "He won't bring his girlfriend, it'll only be the three of us. We can have one of our dare nights or something?"

I tried to decipher Millie's facial expressions as I looked at her but all I could see was pain in her eyes. I knew she still loved Louis and I knew it hurt her to be near him.

"If it hurts too much I promise to never bother you with that again."

Slowly, her traits softened and she nodded slowly.

"As long as you never leave Louis and I alone together."

"I promise. I'll even bring you to the bathroom with me when I need to go."

My best friend let out a loud laughter and it made me smile too. I loved knowing that I could make the pain in her stomach disappear the same way she did with me. I loved knowing that I could make her laugh that way.

"It's crazy that we had to have our hearts broken to finally get to know each other." I admitted, making her smile gently at me.

"It's the only good thing that came out of this heartbreak."

After a while, Millie curled up in a fetus position but her eyes never left mine. I hadn't felt this safe in a very long time and I was so thankful for the woman in front of me that I felt my heart twist in my chest. I couldn't find the right words to tell her how thankful I was to have her in my life, and how lucky I felt. I didn't know how to tell her how important she was for me.

"Thank you."

My lips parted at the words she murmured, and I felt ridiculous for not telling them before she did.

"What for?" I asked just as low when I really should have thanked her back.

"I don't have friends that really care. I didn't even know what it felt like. Besides Louis, all the friends I had never really tried to make me feel better." she admitted, looking down at her hands and licking her lips. "You're different. You care. I know it's cheesy, but you saved me, Niall."

I let my eyes roam on her face as my heartbeats accelerated. I did that? I thought she was the one who saved me, and not the other way around. I was such a pathetic excuse of a human after Grace broke my heart but Millie had taken care of me, she had helped me survive and then she gave me the strength to live again.

"Honestly, Mill, you're the one who saved me."

--

I woke up early and frowned as the sun hit my face. My eyes fluttered open only to see Millie still facing me and asleep. Her lips were slightly parted and she whimpered low, moving slightly on the mattress.

I thought I'd be nauseous and hangover but I was surprisingly not but I didn't dare moving at all, scared to wake my best friend up. She looked peaceful and I spent a few minutes just looking at her. I tried to remember the conversation we had the night before and moved gently closer to her when I saw her shiver.

I brought my hand to her face slowly and let two of my fingertips brush against her cheek. I had no idea why I was doing that, and I didn't even have the excuse to be drunk, all I knew was that I wanted to touch her and be close to her, as if being close to her mentally was not enough. We were close, it was true. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had a close friend like that, but I didn't feel close enough to her. I wanted to be closer, I wanted to be close to Millie in every single way possible, and that thought made my heart jump so high in my chest that I feared it would escape by my mouth.

"Mill..." I whispered, running my thumb on her bottom lip gently as her eyelids seemed to flutter. "Hey, are you awake?"

Her eyes finally opened but she shut them again suddenly and groaned low. "Fuck, we fell asleep on the roof." she mumbled, moving closer to me and hiding her face in my shirt.

I held my breath but after a few second, I wrapped my arm around her and chuckled. "You'll survive."

"I want my bed." she complained again, her voice muffled before of the fabric of my shirt.

"You can go now, I'll put the mattress and the blanket back where it belongs and join you in a few minutes."

She nodded against my chest and my lips curled on the right a bit but it took her a few more seconds to peel herself away from me and finally get up. When I walked back in the apartment, I noticed it was quiet but extremely messy. I walked by Louis' room and stopped, sticking my ear on the door to see if he was there but couldn't hear anything and finally just reached Millie's room, knocking gently on the door.

"It's open." she muttered.

I walked in and closed the door gently behind me before joining her in bed. I was awake and she was almost asleep but she still managed to talk despite slumber taking slowly possession of her body.

"Cuddle me, okay? I need it."

I felt my whole body throat at her request but held my breath when I moved closer, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her closer to me. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of candies in her hair and my heart twisted in my chest. Was it possible that Millie wanted to be close to me physically, too? Was it possible that we felt the exact same thing at the exact same time?

"I need it too."

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: The Anime (pt. 1)

I could go on and on about these two and I think I will, just because I don’t often see people talk about the analysis behind them. The meta I have seen about them has included a perspective that equaled the anime and the manga and I don’t think that’s an accurate way of viewing their relationship.

The anime is a different species than the manga, something that frequently happens during the adaptation from page to screen. Since they’re so different, I’ll analyze them separately.

There's going to be many parts to this so I'll keep a table of contents right here so people can more easily navigate (though you can also read through the "let's talk about natsumikan: the anime" tag on my blog):

Anime Analysis

Part 1: Exposition & Episode 7

Part 2: Episodes 8, 9, 10, & 11

Part 3: Episodes 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, & 17

Part 4: Episodes 18 & 19

Part 5: Episodes 20, 21, & 22

Part 6: Episodes 23, 24, 25, & 26 & Conclusion

The anime makes changes, as anime adaptations often do. The most outstanding changes are appearance related, as Natsume now has brown eyes instead of red, in addition to other characters who have hue-shifted eyes and hair. But there are also story changes, and I’ll be focusing on the changes that occur, specifically in regards to Natsume and Mikan and their relationship.

For one, their relationship starts evolving much earlier in the anime. I think it’s pretty undeniable that in the anime, Natsume started liking Mikan at the end of the dodgeball game. That scene never happened in the manga, but in the anime, it’s a crucial step in making sure nothing seems too sudden or forced.

The anime is 26 episodes long. If Natsume only starts liking Mikan after she saves him during the Reo Arc, then we’re already halfway through the show when positive feelings between the two appear. On the other hand, the feelings develop more slowly in the manga because there’s more time to properly develop the relationship in a more drawn out way.

My analysis will start with the anime, because it’s shorter and easier to discuss.

Exposition

It’s impossible to say that the anime was completely loyal to the manga. It very frequently couldn’t be, because it needed to fill in time in episodes or give closure early before the manga even addressed it (Natsume’s backstory in the anime, for instance, is vaguely referred to and implies deviation from the manga).

The most obvious difference between the manga and the anime from the get-go is visual. Not only do they have differing art styles (I don’t dislike the anime style but Higuchi Tachibana’s art style is so distinct and unmistakable while the anime’s isn’t so unique), but the setting is also different.

While the manga started in the depth of winter, the anime starts off in summer/fall. It always struck me as odd that while the first page of the manga has Mikan running after Hotaru in full winter-wear, the anime starts off warm and idyllic. You could almost think of that as a general warning for the difference between the anime and the manga. After all, while the anime has a reputation for being a cutesy and upbeat story about friendship and magical powers, the manga is much darker and discusses many morbid and depressing themes that can and WILL fuck you up. Warm vs. cold seems like an accurate difference, though I don’t think that was intentional.

We see way more of the village life in the anime, including Mikan’s efforts to keep the school from closing. This is a welcome change because Mikan’s passion to keep the school open is nothing compared to her friendship with Hotaru, and even after the school is saved, she runs away to see her friend, even if it means she goes to another school. The manga doesn’t imply that Mikan knew already about the school’s fate, and since she is always so preoccupied with Hotaru anyway, we don’t really get the impression that she cares very much. To Anime!Mikan, Hotaru is more important than saving the school, something she was so passionate about she rallied to get signatures. It’s an extra scene to prove just how much Hotaru matters to Mikan, and to show even more how selfless Hotaru was to go to Alice Academy, since she knew how much the school mattered to Mikan.

“Sign my petition to get a Gakuen Alice anime reboot!!!”

My boy Natsume is only introduced properly in the second episode, when we actually see his face and he speaks. His appearance is different from the manga’s too. I’m not sure if this was to appeal to a younger audience or what, but Natsume’s eyes are changed to brown instead of their iconic red, something that was always my biggest peeve about the anime adaptation. His hair is also somewhat purplish instead of entirely grey/black and, although this does bother me a lot less than the eyes, I wonder why they made this change when other characters have black hair. It might have been to differentiate him from Hotaru, another main character with black hair, though I’ve never had issue in the manga telling them apart.

His first interaction with Mikan is a lot more pleasant in the anime than in the manga, although that’s not really saying anything. Mikan’s skirt simply falls off and Natsume draws attention to it, rather than the unpleasant events that took place in the manga. This different event makes it a lot easier to support a relationship between the two of them right off the bat. They are still antagonistic but it’s not as terrible as it is in the manga. This makes it easier to establish romantic feelings earlier on, and might have been changed in order to achieve just that, or possibly also to appeal to a younger audience. Maybe both? Who knows.

“You can’t sit with us!”

With Natsume presented the way he is in the anime, it’s easier to make the claim that he’s simply a good guy who acts the way he does to protect people. And it’s true! He is! But he is also so much more. In the manga, he’s a more complicated character. Although he is a good person, he still requires character development, which is something he does go through, and something I’ll talk about more in his meta analysis later.

Most of the events at the beginning of the anime parallel the events of the manga. Mikan goes to Alice Academy at the same time of year, Natsume shows up with an explosion, Mikan has to go through the Northern Woods, she discovers her powers in her fight with Natsume, etc. Some of the continuation from episode to episode is different than the transitions between chapter to chapter, there’s extra scenes inserted to fill up time, and some of the exposition seems strangely presented (in the anime, Mikan finds out more about the school when she finds Narumi and Iinchou waiting for her at a tea party, which is…. Super weird…), but all in all the information and events are mainly the same. The big differences start with the dodgeball episode.

“Look how happy she is. Makes me wanna barf.”

Episode 7 vs. Chapter 9

I love the dodgeball episode. I feel like for the most part, the anime does deviation from the manga pretty well. With the last arc as an exception, I generally enjoy their changes and additions to the plot. The anime has to be different, has to progress at a different pace, has to introduce topics at different times. They have an episode to fill, and less time to build relationships. Natsume and Mikan are both different characters in the anime but it’s very subtle and has to happen due to the fact that the anime is shorter and seems more designed for younger audiences, in addition to wrapping up before the manga could explore more of the story.

Anyway, let’s talk about the dodgeball episode. AGAIN THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN IN THE MANGA THE SAME WAY so when discussing NatsuMikan as a concept, the anime events cannot be treated the same as the manga events. A lot of people maybe forget that the manga is very different than the anime when it comes to this episode. I see the two media conflated in plenty of fanfics, where seventeen year old NatsuMikan reflect on the dodgeball game from their youth that changed everything, and I get it because the anime version of the dodgeball game is cute! It's shippy! It's fun! But it doesn't happen in the manga the same way.

There's a similar trope with the sakura tree, which I can only remember from the anime, and yet it's such a fundamental aspect of NM fanfic it might as well have played a vital role in both anime and manga. Nothing wrong with any of this, of course. I'm just making it clear that my analysis will cover the two media as separate for the sake of a cohesive essay. Separating them in fanfic is far less important.

This look could probably kill someone. I’m surprised Mikan is still alive, TBH.

The chapter’s focus is Mikan starting to feel more at home in Class B, making friends with her once-hostile classmates, but the episode is more preoccupied with Natsume and Mikan’s perspectives on each other. While in the manga, the game ends with a tie and Mikan accidentally hits Hotaru in the face with the ball, the anime draws out the game to fill an episode and to introduce an evolution in the way Natsume sees Mikan. The first part of the anime episode is Mikan introducing her friends to her new senpai, Tsubasa. After she invites her friends, we see Natsume glowering at her and promptly ditching the next class, saying to Ruka that he can’t stand being in the same class as her. This addition to the plot already foreshadows that their relationship will change in some way by the end of the episode.

Tsubasa tells a frustrated Mikan that if she wants Natsume to be less unpleasant, he’d need to release some of his toxic energy. Thus, the sporty Mikan introduces the concept of dodgeball to the unwelcoming class. When they finally agree, Natsume gives one condition: that they play with the notorious Alice Ball, which is powered by the thrower’s alice (a detail absent from the manga). This Alice Ball is particularly terrifying with the threat of Natsume’s dangerous fire alice. Mikan also needs to get more people on her team, another aspect absent from the manga. While in the manga, Mikan only had her few friends on her team (including a wandering Ruka) and this ended up playing to her advantage, the anime has a humorous plot of Mikan tracking players down for her team, including a fake mustache she makes with her pigtails (she’s so cute, I love her), paying Hotaru to be on her team, and blackmailing Ruka to participate. This was mainly to fill time, but it makes the dodgeball game more important as well.

In the manga, we don’t see how the game ends, just that the teams tied and that everyone in class is having fun and bonding. In the anime, more emphasis is put on the “Mikan vs. Natsume” aspect, so a tie like the manga’s would be anticlimactic. Thus, the anime concludes the dodgeball game with Mikan and Natsume being the only kids left on the court, and Natsume not using his alice when he throws the Alice Ball. Even Hotaru leaving the game is something she does out of boredom instead of injury, further separating the other characters from the plot. It’s about Natsume and Mikan, and everyone else is mostly a side character. (Though Ruka also plays a vital role to this episode AND chapter, and it’s at this point that I think he started developing real feelings for Mikan as well. So when it comes to the anime, he and Natsume fall for Mikan around the same time, but in the manga, Ruka likes her first and the “he liked her first” argument for Natsume vanishes, though he never had that “advantage” to begin with.)

“Thank you!”

Natsume wins (something that shocked me at twelve years old) and is ready to walk away with his handy “tch” and all but Mikan thanks him for not using his alice and he goes off on her, demanding to know why she’s still smiling despite her loss. She says she’s happy that he had fun and was involved with the rest of class for once, and that in a way that means she wins. For Anime!Natsumikan, this is it. This is the turning point. “I just wanted you to be happy and have fun,” is what Mikan might as well be saying. “Really, this was all for you!” It’s sweet and it’s thoughtful and I don’t think Natsume ever imagined he’d be on the receiving end of her kindness, especially after all their beef. Manga!Mikan would probably not say these things to him, even if she meant them, for the sole reason that Mikan is stubborn and holds onto her pride, especially when it comes to her early relationship with Natsume, but Anime!Mikan is much more forgiving and much more willing to extend an olive branch, like in the dance episode. In any case, Natsume starts falling right then, and it’s obvious too, because he is pissed, and even more angry because he’s not even mad at her. He’s angry with himself for his change of opinion. This is the girl he was fully content to hate forever and yet here he was, starting to like her. Not ideal.

This scene, something so crucial to the development of Anime!Natsumikan, is completely absent from the manga. In the manga, Natsume still dislikes her by the end of the game although he does have fun.

He's not angry, just disappointed. In himself.

I’m not going to say one is better when it comes to starting up NatsuMikan because they’re very different creatures and I actually thoroughly enjoy both.

Anyway, the NatsuMikan after episode 7 is almost the same as in the manga, but the events carry a different weight since we know Natsume likes Mikan now (even if he would never admit it).

Summary

I hope this first part was interesting, and that it introduced the idea of Anime!NatsuMikan as being a little different from the manga's version. Yes, it is more or less the same story, but with so many thematic and plot changes, they take a different form as well, in a perhaps more subtle way, kind of like a slightly canon divergent fanfic. Fanfic where Natsume starts liking Mikan a bit earlier on in the story.

Next Part ->