#I'm sure everyone does though imagine how interesting that would be!

[wwinterwitch]

right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

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You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

[radiocrypt-id]

Elody is tragic, I think, in a way that feels very close to home?

She's a woman that met someone interesting and strange and became friends with him, happy to have a friend around, since her parents are too sick to be in her life all the time. She was a little girl forced to grow up so fast, to take every type of class and feel the weight of her station on her shoulders every day, growing closer to the time she has to step up and take over, desperate to be deserving of the title. Desperate to do her parents proud.

And she's got this friend now, this sweet, gross little frog that talks and says he's a prince. His story is a strange and sad one, one she maybe can't fully understand but offers what support and sympathy she can. If she even believes him, I'm not sure she really does. And he's funny. He makes her laugh, reminds her of the fun of the world, encourages her to take care of herself and enjoy things as often as possible, reminds her to be young and happy and live freely. And she needs that. She needs someone to look her in the eyes and tell her it's okay to be a kid. It's okay to play with her ball in the woods and it's okay to sing and dance and get dressed up and do the fun parts of being a princess. He brings her joy that she hasn't had in a long time. She loves that about him, how fun and silly and clumsy he is, it's charming. She falls in love with that silly frog.

But then Snowhold comes. They have no allies, their armies are failing, their people are dying and she's up all night going over maps and strategy at a table of advisors and generals and is so stressed and trying so hard. But her silly frog is still a silly frog. He thinks about balls and good food and safe castle walls. He tells her to relax, enjoy a meal, gossip about the nobles, have fun. He hasn't changed. But she's being forced to change. Now that silly levity isn't charming and fun, it's frustrating. She doesn't have time for games and can't see how hard he's trying to make her smile. She needs a Prince, a man to stand beside her at the war table and talk tactics and look for ways to save their home and people. She needs a fighter, a hero. But Gerrard has never been a hero, he's a frog. Elody was the hero. She saved him. And she's so exhausted by being the hero. She's always taking care of someone else. She just wants to be taken care of. She just wants help. It's hard to love someone the same way in times of trouble. It's hard to find the space in all the stress and work to love Gerrard the way she did when they met.

Elody does still love him though. She does. It's a painful sort of love, in believing that he's never going to change and be what she needs him to be, in that she's always going to be the hero for him. But she loves him. She carries a shield with a lillypad on it, she wields a mace with the golden ball as part of it, she's actively carrying him with her. She's thinking of her silly little frog and hoping he's safe, where ever he's gone to hide and when it's all over, when she's saved everyone and made everything better, she'll go find him again. And then she can take him to a ball, like he wanted. She wishes he was different, but doesn't think he'll change.

Imagine what she'll find, when they meet again? Her silly little frog is still silly and clumsy and thinking about her constantly, but he's a hero now. He fought and died with his friends. He's twice upon a time. He's been Outside, in The Lines Between. He's a fighter now, he's brave, he's friends with death itself. He's a commander, great at group tactics, vital to their group. And he's got a couple kids around him, that he's exhausted by but loves in some way. He scolds them and encourages them and he's kind of a dad? And he's been looking for her, not hiding. He's been trying to find her since he left, regretting leaving her behind but really not sure how he would have helped. And he loves her, god he loves her. Even as he turns into a frog from her falling out of love with him, Gerrard loves Elody. He loves her enough to be brave, to learn the things he never got a chance to learn before, to take care of others.

Elody is so loved, and she has no idea. She loves him enough to take care of everything by herself, holding onto what parts of him she has space for during this horrible time. But Gerrard loves her enough to die trying to find her.

She has to be his hero, she never had a choice in that, but unlike most cases in life, he's trying to be her hero too, and she has no idea.

[pogueswrld]

*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*

pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader

summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.

warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.

note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁

He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?

Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.

She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."

Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.

Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!

Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.

In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.

He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.

She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.

But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-

She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.

"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"

She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"

He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."

Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."

Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."

He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."

She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."

Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.

"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.

Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.

He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.

She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.

"Please what, darling?"

He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.

"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."

He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.

He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.

She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.

"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.

"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.

"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.

"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"

He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."

She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.

His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"

Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good boy."

He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.

She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.

He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.

Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.

"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."

She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.

Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.

He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.

She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.

"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.

"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.

She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.

A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.

He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"

She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 3

Grass Talks (Literally)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: Soft, lowkey ooc Bakugou but thats bc I imagine him to be a lot more mellow as an adult. Little bit of a serious talk, but nothing crazy. Readers quirk is also mentioned

Word Count: 1k

previous chapter

The date had been going well so far, and the sun was even beginning to set since now it was almost 7:00 pm.

You two were currently lying on your backs together, looking up at the sky filled with clouds, stomachs full of yummy food.

"That one looks like a giraffe, or something else with a long neck." You said point up at a cloud.

Bakugou hummed, "Nah, I think it's a flower or something. Don't you see the stem? And there's even petals around it."

Tilting your head at a different angle, you tried to see what he saw.

"I don't see it! I thought I would, since I'm used to seeing flowers all the time..." You said while still looking up in wonder.

Bakugou sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, "That's right. You're a florist ain't you? What made you wanna do that?"

You stayed lying down and answered him, "Yeah, I've been a florist for a few years now. I chose it because of my quirk."

"What is your quirk anyways? Is it something with plants and all that crap?"

"Yep. I can talk to plants, so taking care of them is much easier and I love being able to help others that are struggling with their own plants."

Bakugou rubbed his hand along the grass, "So me doing this... is it hurting the grass?"

You closed your eyes and listened, hearing the grass ask what it was that was rubbing all over them.

"It's not hurting them, but they can feel it."

He pulled his hand away. "What about walking on the grass. Does that hurt 'em?"

"Sometimes it can. If you're walking normally, then no. But if you're stomping all over them, then yes it does hurt them." You said, finally sitting up and facing him.

You leaned over and ran your hand along the top of the grass very lightly, hearing the voice of the grass sigh at the feeling. You learned early on after developing your quirk that most plants actually enjoy being pet, if you can call it that.

"They like it when you do this to them. Just make sure you do it really gently." You said while showing him how to pet the grass.

He followed your directions with a grunt and did the same motion as you.

You laughed lightly, "Petting grass is kind of silly now that I think about it. I guess it's different since I know that the grass likes it."

He shook his head and pulled his hand away, "It's not. I think it's interesting. I have some plants at home, now I'm wonderin' if they're happy with me."

You giggled at that, "I'm sure they are. But thank you. I always felt like my quirk wasn't super useful since I couldn't be a hero, y'know?"

"You don't gotta be a hero to have a useful quirk. Everyone can find a way to use their quirk, trust me."

You smiled softly, "You know what, you're really sweet. You don't portray yourself like that on the media at all."

"I ain't sweet." He said looking away shyly.

"If you say soooo." You cooed.

He smirked lightly and looked at you, "Thanks for uh, being genuine by the way."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be genuine?"

"I mean like, almost everyone I've met just wants to be with me because I'm a hero. It just makes dating a lot harder, I guess."

You frowned at his words. You knew there were people who were out for money, but to play with someone's feelings like that? That was just heartless. You knew Bakugou was a grown man and fully capable of handling himself, but you couldn't help but feel bad.

You place on of your hands on top of his and said, "I understand what you mean, and I want to let you know that I don't have any bad intentions at all."

"I won't lie and say I'm not a fan of you as a hero," You continued, "but right now I'm getting to know you as Bakugou. So I hope you'll continue to allow me to."

Bakugou genuinely smiled. No smirk, or sly remark following it. Just a smile.

"Thanks. That means more than you know. But on that same topic, I also wanted to talk to you about a boundary I have if we're going to continue seeing each other." He said seriously.

You nodded your head and listened attentively.

"Because of my line of work, I just ask that you be honest with me about things. I fuckin' hate liars in general, but I really need you to understand that I can't have someone around if they're gonna be keepin' secrets and shit." He said frowning, almost as if he was thinking of a particular person when speaking about liars.

You nodded and smiled. "I promise, I'll be completely honest with you. I really wanna keep seeing you and if that's all it takes then I'm willing to do it."

He grunted. "Good. Let's clean up now, I'll take you home."

Just as you were about to start cleaning up, your phone went off. You picked it up quickly and saw that it was an email, a notification from the site you write fan fiction on.

You bit your lip and thought about what Bakugou just said. Deciding to ignore the notification, you just continued to clean up.

...

After Bakugou had dropped you off back at home, you quickly changed into your pajamas and got comfortable.

You said goodnight to Cheerios and your plants, who said goodnight back.

When you got in bed, you looked through your emails and at the notifications from HeroFiction.com that you had received earlier.

You began to think about Bakugou's words again.

"I fuckin' hate liars."

You shook your head and tried to rid away any negative thoughts you had. This secret wasn't that big of a deal, and it was probably for the better that he didn't know.

Keeping one secret wouldn't hurt, right?

...

next chapter

authors note

i had fun writing this chapter :) i hope you liked it! i also hope you liked softer bakugou here, hehe.

taglist: @doumadono @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @lovra974 @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl @gold24fish @cxp1d @rv19

(those in pink are not able to be tagged unfortunately)

[savannahsdeath]

TEACHER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X STUDENT!READER

PART 1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

summary: you stay with your teacher - ellie because youre sure she didnt grade your exam correctly. she turns out to be easy to spend time with, even though youre her student

warnings: 18+ please!!

writers note: calling ellie 'miss williams' kinda cringes me but ig thats how it is.. before yall attack me or smthn reader is not a minor so its all legal also i imagine this is like the last grade of highschool?? i dont know what age it is in usa since im polish and yeah it would be legal for us but maybe not in america so idk😭😭

Ellie Williams was a teacher in your college, most students' favourite. She wasn't boring or too strict although she was serious about her lessons and she always made sure everyone listens. The point is, everyone wanted to listen.

You loved how passionate she is about her job. You could tell sharing her knowledge with next generations makes her proud. The rest of the students mostly liked her for her looks. She was attractive, even for you, especially when she was looking at you from under her glasses. Oh, god, her glasses... And the way she adjusts them with her slim fingers... Yes, she was definitely attractive. And pretty young, as for a teacher. But the way all of those stupid frat boys made clearly sexual comments about her was making you want to throw up.

You never missed her lessons and you were her best student. You could tell she appreciates the way you look honestly interested in her lessons. That's why you were surprised when you suddenly got a D from an assignment.

You stayed after class to talk with her about it. Something was off. You stayed the whole night to do it, with blood, sweat and tears.

You found her in her office, reading some papers. After saying simple 'good afternoon' you sat in a chair in front of her desk. She dropped the papers that turned out to be your assignment.

"I was just about to talk to you." She sternly said, not looking in your direction. "Why are you helping him?"

You had no idea what she's talking about, so you stayed quiet, letting her talk.

"You've always been so responsible - straight A's, making the presentations in time. Did he pay you? Be honest, I won't report it anywhere. Luke wouldn't do that himself."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What does Luke has to do with this?"

Luke was your talking stage. You weren't interested in him but he was in you and that's it. Your opinion didn't matter. He was popular and you wanted to have good reputation so you allowed him to do... whatever.

Miss Williams showed you two papers. One was yours, the other... based on the handwriting - Luke's.

"Look at the signatures." She ordered. "How did it happen? No bullshit."

They were swapped. Luke's work, graded for a D, had your name on it.

"That's an interesting word to use for a teacher. Umm... Yeah, I don't..." You started stuttering, not knowing what to say. You often helped him out but not this time.

"Just admit you helped him and I'll give you your A. Easy as that." She finally looked up at you. Her glasses reflected the light in a way that made it hard to look her in the eyes, so you wasn't able to tell what she's thinking. Was she judging you or are you just paranoid?

"I told him to give you my assignment since he was staying in your class longer, I swear, I didn't-" You sighed. "He had to... How could he..." You continued mumbling.

"Sh, shh... I can tell it's your handwriting. I just thought you did it on purpose." She said in a reassuring voice.

"Will he have any problems? It's not a big deal, so if we could just..." You looked at her with your doe eyes, nervously biting your bottom lip. The way she was looking at you made you understand why were the other students all over her. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your mind, embarrased you even thought about her in a... romantic... way.

"Okay, my dear. Here's your well earned A." She showed you a new copy of the assignment with an A grade written at the top. You also notice her fingers slightly grazing your hand as she does so. the same fingers you used to imagine touching you in such an intimate way "Now, if it's not a big secret, why are you even worried about Luke? For him, a better grade is more important than you. But if you really like him, I may group you both together in the next presentation."

"No, I don't, it's not that..." You quickly explained. "It's just... I don't even know. He's just everywhere I go."

You could tell something was off when Miss Williams mentioned Luke. She never did speak poorly about any of your classmates, not even once - it's simply unprofessional. But, this time, she seemed irritated, perhaps even annoyed.

"I'm glad to hear that, he's no good for you. He obviously wants more than an assignment swap." She put all of the papers back into her file. Suddenly, she leaned in towards you. Not too close, but way closer than she was before. "You look nervous."

"I am." You admitted quietly. Your heart starts beating fast. She's never been this close before. You both met after classes before and she was friendly, sure, but never this... interested. She made it to the point you didn't saw her as a professor anymore, just a woman, maybe even potential... girlfriend.

"I can help you with that stress if you'd like." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't resist her. She leans in closer, until your faces are so close together that your breaths become one and if it wasn't for the desk, your bodies would be pressed together. The moment she touches your cheek, you can't resist anymore and kiss her back. She takes your hands and presses them against the back of her head, pulling you closer as she deepen the kiss.

You never felt this way before. This doesn't feel wrong, it's... exciting. She's exciting.

You hear a faint sound from outside. Someone trying to open the door.

Miss Williams quickly straightens up: she straightens her clothes, fixes her hair, and picks up her papers. Then, with a deep breath, she answers the knock.

"Hello... Can I help you?" She opens the door.

It's Luke, standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"Luke? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flicked from Luke to the teacher and back again, not understanding what's happening.

"I just realized I forgot my bag at class today, so I dropped by to pick it up. But I see you have company." He looks at you and gives you a subtle wink.

"Oh, don't worry. I was just giving her assignment back an A. The A she deserves." She says with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, exactly, Luke. I know you swapped our assignments." Your eyes lingered at him for longer this time, as you saw he knows something so you tried changing the topic to more formal one.

"I... uhh... no, I didn't do that." He replies nervously, his tone and body language giving him away.

Miss Williams looks at you with an expression that conveys "I can't believe this is happening."

You continue; "Look, Miss Williams found our assignments mixed up. Mine... with your D grade on it... and yours, with my A on it."

Luke shifts uncomfortably, realizing he's been found out. "Oh... well... I guess I'll just be on my way then." He says awkwardly.

"Just take your bag and go before I change my mind and not be so nice." Your teacher said, making eye contact with you instead of him.

Luke quickly grabs his bag and scurries away.

Miss Williams sighs and closes the door. "What a little... trouble maker." She says with a smile. She walks towards you and stands in front of you, facing you directly. "I hope he didn't bother you too much." She says softly, her tone carrying a slight flirty vibe.

You smile and shake your head, even though the truth is he did.

"You should go now, I don't want your parents worrying. Visit me here from time to time though, 'kay?" She smirks, stroking your hair.

"Yes, ma'am." You reply, trying to be playful but failing in your nervousness. "I will... umm... see you at class tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it." She replies, a grin on her face as she stares deep into your eyes.

As you leave, you try to remain composed, but you're melting inside.

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 6 - 50 Shades of Audacity (2)

KAKASHI x ALPHA!READER

Summary: An office scandal, the start of your gold digging arc, and a mysterious house in the countryside... It still annoyed you that you had to have a job, but honestly, it could have been worse. This was kind of exciting! GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: N-sfw content, workplace violations, vague discussion of canon specific suicide, playful smacking, playful physical restraint. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Hey! We're rapidly reaching the end of this story now! Only one more chapter before the epilogue, crazy! Time has flown. Happy holidays to everyone, especially @omeganronpa who is working so hard, hopefully a break is coming soon 😖 Not much porn in this one, as I'm saving it for the finale. Enjoy~

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

Going for a Sunday drive was always a nice way to spend a morning. Well, it wasn’t Sunday and technically you weren’t driving, but the point still stood.

You had your nose basically glued to the window as the unfamiliar city sights bled into an equally unfamiliar, but timeless countryside. Fields, animals, trees, they all rushed past, familiar and new in the same breath. You were pleasantly surprised that this erotica world city didn’t have suburbs; who knew you just had to die to benefit from good city planning?

Kakashi’s fancy car was growing on you too, with its heated seats and spacious leg room, and you couldn’t deny that it was also having an impact on how much you were enjoying this drive. It even had six cupholders. Six. Kakashi didn’t even have that many friends in total, but even having the choice to have six beverages felt like a luxury experience.

Kakashi was also in his fancy car, of course, but he was considerably less interested in the view, and more interested in the paperwork he’d brought along. What a boring place to put one’s attention; you needed to rectify that immediately.

“If you could pick one of your dogs to magically learn English, who would you pick?” His pen not even slowing for a moment, Kakashi answered with no hesitation.

“Anyone but Pakkun.”

Hmm, maybe a harder question would work?

“What’s 472 + 9012?”

“9484.”

Something shocking perhaps?

“Does your pubic hair also defy gravity?”

“No comment.”

Oh, something weird would surely get his attention!

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?”

“No.”

You huffed, sinking down into your heated seat. He hadn’t even paused in the paperwork, so your plan had thoroughly failed. You wondered why Kakashi, a man you’d seen climb out of a window to avoid a work meeting once, was now diligently completing paperwork when he had a good excuse not to. Whatever, he’d probably already procrastinated on it enough that Iruka had threatened him into finishing it. No one ignored direct instructions from Iruka, even though he wasn’t technically high up enough to give instructions at all.

You sighed, turning back to the window to keep yourself amused, acknowledging that you’d lost the battle for Kakashi’s attention to his paperwork. Maybe it was the effect of the car journey, or maybe you were just sappy, but you quickly found yourself reminiscing.

Two weeks ago, you never would have imagined being here with him like this. It was almost difficult to wrap your head around how much your relationship had changed in such a short amount of time, how comfortable you’d both become with each other. Kakashi still took his role as ‘professional nuisance’ seriously of course, revelling in winding you up as what seemed like his main past time and hobby.

He was also still late to meetings, refused to do work, skipped lunch if you didn’t bring it to him… Okay, so maybe not that much had changed. But hey, you kissed frequently now, that was new! And your name was also currently the hottest topic in every break room at work.

That very first day after the tryst in Kakashi’s office had to have been your favourite in terms of gossip shockwaves. It had turned out that Kakashi did have another spare shirt for you to wear home after both your shirt and his first spare had been ruined, and the next morning, groggy and tired, you grabbed it to wear to work without thinking about what you were doing.

You had known that there was gossip about you and Kakashi leaving work together, but apparently the security guard’s version of events, that you had both come back to work together after hours, you without a shirt, and then locked yourself in his office, was in hot debate. Many refused to believe that terminal bachelor Kakashi Hatake would ever sleep with his secretary. ‘Something out of a bad porn book’, you had heard multiple times. How ironic.

So, when you walked in late, wearing Kakashi’s shirt, you corroborated the security guard’s story and confirmed the rumours all at once.

The break room fell silent the second you walked in, even though it had been filled with loud debate moments before. Everyone turned to look at you. Have you ever lifted a rock and had all the bugs underneath it suddenly freeze? It felt like that.

“Good morning,” you said, shooting everyone a hesitant smile. “Sorry I’m a bit late today.”

You watched as everyone’s eyes flickered from your face, down to your shirt, and then up to your face again. The room was uncomfortably silent.

Suddenly Asuma cheered, and chaos descended on the room. Not everyone seemed as thrilled as Asuma though. Kurenai only sighed and passed Asuma a handful of cash. Anko did the same, but with significantly more swearing and threats towards his delicate parts.

(You would find out later that Asuma had seen the security footage of your interview and had proceeded to make many, many bets that you and Kakashi would be fucking within a week. Because of Kakashi’s ‘no dating’ reputation, you were sure he had raked in a significant amount.)

Iruka’s face went bright red, and he sputtered for a moment before turning around and pretending to organise the mug cupboard. He did not succeed in hiding the small bit of blood now dripping from his nose.

In contrast to Iruka’s not so subtle hiding, Gai came right up to you and thumped you on the back, shouting about youth.

Yamato only stared at you, his already large eyes wider than normal. You weren’t sure what emotion he was embodying, but it was certainly creepy.

Maybe it was best if you just went to your desk?

Just as you turned to leave, Gai had one more final thing to say.

“I hope your love blossoms with intensity!” he said, giving you a thumbs up.

Why did that feel like he was giving you permission to fuck Kakashi?

People did slowly get used to the idea that you and Kakashi were something more than coworkers. It helped that you had lunch together most days, which gave people a chance to get used to seeing you together.

On days where your schedules didn’t align for lunch though, you made a point to grab dinner together. Your favourite by far had been dinner at his penthouse flat. Not only was that the night where you’d first called Kakashi your boyfriend, but it was also the first time you were introduced to his dogs.

It felt strange to be walking through a block of flats that was so fancy. The lobby had looked like something from a 5-star hotel, and you had had to show your ID before the front desk would let you upstairs, even though Kakashi had informed them that you’d be coming. Security reasons, they had said. You wondered what other high-profile people lived here.

Kakashi had the penthouse flat, so his was the only one on the top floor. You exited the lift and were immediately confronted with his front door. It wasn’t quite as big as the door in the library you had chosen his story from, but it was still an impressive size.

If you were being honest, it was a little intimidating.

The intimidation factor was shattered as soon as you knocked on the door however, because the second your fist made contact with the wood, a cacophony of barking sounded from the other side.

“Yes, yes, I’m going, you can stop barking.” You could faintly hear Kakashi’s voice through the door. “Bisuke! Get off there!”

The barking still continued.

“Sit, sit. All of you sit! I mean it, or you won’t be getting any treats today.”

Slowly, the barking and the sound of claws clacking ceased, and suddenly the door was pulled open. Standing there, in all his homey glory, was Kakashi.

You were used to seeing him exclusively dressed in suits, but he was wearing lounge clothes. Lounge clothes! Uptight, always ready for a fancy restaurant Kakashi, was wearing a grey tracksuit, with a long-sleeved top in dark blue, and fluffy slippers.

A smile grew on your face; perhaps you were biased, but these suited him a lot more. They still looked expensive, but they were just so much cosier than his normal get up. It made you want to hug him. You resisted for a moment before remembering what world you were in and what the point of this whole second life thing was, and then your resistance crumbled into nothing.

You threw yourself at him for a hug.

“Oof.” Kakashi floundered in surprise for a moment, but when you didn’t let go, he tentatively patted you on the back. You giggled and squeezed him harder, burying your face into his neck.

There were no scent patches! He wasn’t wearing scent patches! Giddy, you took a deep breath of his scent, letting it fill and sit in your lungs. Yes, he smelt utterly delicious.

Kakashi put his hands on your upper arms and gently tugged you away from him. His face was bright red. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears. You laughed at him but decided to show mercy and not tease him over his obvious bashfulness. You instead turned your attention to his dogs.

They were all sitting together to your right, tails wagging furiously. You could tell that if they had been any less well trained, they’d have been jumping all over you.

You opened your bag and pulled out a little something that you’d brought to make sure they liked you. When the dogs caught sight of the McDonald’s bag, their excitement obviously got too much to contain, because they all ran over to your feet, a couple jumping up at you, a couple barking, all looking eager to get their hands on the carroty goodness.

Kakashi, although you could tell he was amused, stepped in to corral his little gremlins. God, he was such a dog dad.

You had received copious wet kisses that day, mostly from the dogs, but also from a sappy Kakashi who had seemed utterly thrilled that you and his dogs got along.

You had had to make and study flash cards to remember all his dogs’ names, but Kakashi’s genuine smile as he watched you interact with them made it all worth it.

You had also met Charlie, Kakashi’s personal chef that evening.

The presence of his personal chef didn’t surprise you. What surprised you was when said chef made dinner for the dogs and then immediately left, leaving Kakashi to cook for you and him. It was exactly that abrupt, and you had laughed until you cried. Of course, he hired a personal chef just for his dogs. He spoilt them rotten.

You were sceptical as to how much skill he would have in the kitchen, but he produced a delicious meal with little trouble. It made you warm that Kakashi was so enthusiastic about cooking dinner you.

Cooking wasn’t the only way he was spoiling you though; he seemed incredibly willing to flash his cash for you, much to your delight.

“Have you considered a top hat?” you asked, picking up the worst top hat you’d ever seen and holding it up as a suggestion. Kakashi gave you a flat look. “What? If this Autumn Company Party thing is so important, you need to make an impression, and this hat would certainly make an impression!”

“I don’t want to make the kind of impression that has my board of directors attempting to oust me from the company.” He took the hat and placed it back on the rack.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “If you didn’t want my fashion advice, why did you even bring me along to pick your outfit? I could have just waited in the car.”

The attendant that was serving you walked back into the room with a selection of ties based on Kakashi’s preferences. He laid them out on the stool for him to peruse. He had already witnessed a great deal of your banter, but if he was surprised by it, then he was too professional to let that show.

“You’re my personal assistant.”

You flicked the tie he was currently wearing up into his face. “That doesn’t mean I need to watch you pick out ties, asshole.”

Kakashi flicked you on the forehead in turn, rolling his eyes as he always did. “No, I mean that you’ll have to attend the party with me, and I figured you would need a new outfit. As you said, it’s important to make an impression, especially as this will be your debut of sorts.”

You snorted, pulling at one of the price tags of a nearby shirt. “Not in here, thanks. Just reading these numbers is making my bank account cry, I can’t imagine what buying them would do to it.”

Kakashi watched you for a moment, before he stuck his hand into his pocket. Out came his wallet.

‘James? Is what I think is happening, actually happening?’

‘I believe you are about to reach a major milestone in your goal to become a ‘gold digger’, human. My soul is warmed by your success, may it be prosperous and eternal.’

‘Thanks, James, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’

Just as you predicted, Kakashi slipped his card out from his wallet and handed it to you. “Buy whatever you need, I can’t have my assistant looking shabby now, can I?”

You could imagine this scene in other stories, stories where you weren’t the lead. The MC would decline, either out of bashfulness or a sense of pride. Kakashi would probably then insist, and maybe MC would feel obliged to agree, but they would slip outside and purchase the outfit from a cheaper shop down the road to make a point. And then Kakashi would swoon because MC is ‘not like other alphas’.

You were the lead in this story though, so you took the card immediately, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fuck yes,” you said under your breath. Kakashi snorted, but he looked amused, not offended, by the way you were treating his money. “I’m going to dress up like royalty.”

You scurried off into your preferred section of the shop, Kakashi’s card clutched tightly in your grasp. You eagerly rifled through the racks. At several moments, you got the feeling that you were being watched, but whenever you looked back, Kakashi was fully focused on shopping. Maybe you were imagining it?

The Autumn Company Party had been coming up a lot. It was clearly the climax of the plot, but unlike Itachi’s story, you weren’t really sure what the plot was. James had no idea what would be happening at the party either, just that something would happen, and whatever that something was, it was heavily influenced by your actions. You had originally been apprehensive, but you figured that for a porn story, it couldn’t be anything too bad, so you focused on your excitement about attending such a fancy work party. You’d bet the hors d’oeuvres were going to change your life.

(You were confident because you had been the one in charge of choosing the catering company and the menu. Your job was pretty fun at times, even if your true career calling was independently wealthy.)

In between the planning for the party, your physical relationship with Kakashi had also developed over the last fortnight.

“You’re needy tonight,” you teased, curling your fingers just right. Kakashi shivered.

“On the contrary, you need to shut up.”

You tutted, “That wasn’t your best work.”

“Forgive me; I’m a little preoccupied.” You took that as an invitation to press at his prostate as hard as you could. Kakashi face screwed up in pleasure, and he made no more comments.

“Wow, who knew that you had an off switch this whole time? If I’d had known this little bundle of nerves had such an effect, my interview would have gone very differently.”

“The more time I spend with you, the less I’m surprised that you were single when we met.”

“Asshole.”

That had been during his first visit to your flat. You had the strange impression that he felt more comfortable in your home than his own, for some reason. Regardless, that night was the first time you’d gone all the way.

“Are you ready?” you asked, kissing on his collar bones to distract yourself from his tight warmth, and how much you really wanted to move.

“I was ready ten minutes ago. I’m not going to break the second you put any pressure on me, or in me, as it were.” Kakashi purposely clenched around you causing you to hiss. “Get on with it.”

You pulled away and narrowed your eyes at him. He only raised an eyebrow in response. Fine, if he wanted it rough, you’d give it to him rough.

…

“Fuck, I’m tired,” you said, flopping back onto the bed, exhausted. Kakashi looked much the same, panting hard from exertion.  

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he replied.

“…”

“…”

“Second round in the shower?”

“Obviously.”

Now that had been a fun night. Your activities didn’t stay exclusively in the bedroom though. You had quickly found that not only did Kakashi like it when you took control in social situations, like ordering for him at restaurants, he also liked it when you lightly teased him in public.

Nothing too extreme, of course, as there was a chance that such a thing would literally end up in the news if you were caught, but you had both made a game of seeing how many dirty messages you could hide in the other’s paperwork. You were winning, although the scores were close.

You were so glad that Kakashi’s morning meeting was being held in one of the rooms made entirely of glass. It meant that, although you weren’t in the meeting, you still had a prime view to Kakashi’s reaction when he inevitably found the note you had hidden in his folder.

You watched as Kakashi continued his speech to the board of directors, reaching for his folder to check something.

Oh, there, he was opening his folder!

The cover flipped open and Kakashi froze for only a moment, before he continued like nothing had happened.

You were impressed by his ability to keep his cool, you had to admit, but you still noticed the way his hand shook ever so slightly, as he snuck the note out of the folder and into his pocket without anyone noticing.

When the meeting finished, Kakashi walked straight back over to you, dropping the note in question on your desk.

“You’re incorrigible.” There was the slightest pink to his cheeks.

“So, you don’t want a rimjob?”

Kakashi gave you one of his signature flat looks, although the pink tinge ruined it somewhat, and wordlessly walked into his office, leaving you fruitlessly supressing your cackles.

To sum it up, you really liked him, and it was clear that he really liked you. You had seen his home, met his dogs, eaten his food, and seen flashes of the complexity bubbling just below Kakashi’s purposefully distant exterior.

In a moment of surprising seriousness, Gai had vigorously shaken your hand yesterday and told you that he’d never seen Kakashi as light and happy as he’d been these last few weeks. It was nice to hear.

You still didn’t like the fact that you had to work, but again, the job could have been a lot worse, and you were playing the long game. Technically, you were working right now, but Kakashi had asked you to accompany him on a mini road trip into the surrounding countryside. The days where Kakashi took you with him out of the office were your favourite, but today something was off. You had tired to write off Kakashi’s out of character behaviour as him just having an off day, but there was something about it that was really putting you on edge.

It was like he was trying to distract himself with the paperwork. You wondered if this meant his backstory reveal was coming up. Itachi had started behaving strangely when his worries about you rejecting him for his past were about to make themselves known. Maybe Kakashi’s backstory had something to do with where you were going.

Apparently, you were going to visit a house. Kakashi had mentioned that one of his properties (one of them, pfft, rich kid) required some maintenance. According to him, the roof had been damaged in a storm a few weeks earlier, and he needed to prepare the house for the builders to carry out repairs. Kakashi had described your tasks as mainly including clearing space for scaffolding, cleaning and packing away the breakables in the main rooms, and plugging in the fridge so the builders could store their lunches and have milk for beverages.

They didn’t seem like the kind of tasks that would cause a significant amount of stress. If he was doing things like packing away valuables and plugging in the fridge, it was probably a place he lived, rather than a rental or something. Maybe it was a summer home? You supposed that Kakashi was a very private person, so maybe he was on edge at the thought of having a load of strangers in his house without supervision.

Hmm, that sounded too simple for this universe though. You were due a backstory exposition scene, and maybe you spent too much time reading erotica, but this felt like it had ‘tragic backstory incoming’ written all over it.

“So, this place we’re going… is it a summer home? Oh! Or a summer estate? Is it a mansion? Does it have a pool, and can I use it?”

Kakashi didn’t take the obvious banter bait, he just kept his head down and continued signing documents, providing a short, factual answer.

“It’s none of those things, nor does it have a pool.”

“Aww.” You tried to play up your sadness with a pout. “I was excited.”

“Doesn’t your complex have a swimming pool?”

“I mean, yeah, technically, but this would be a private swimming pool, that’s way better.”

Kakashi chuckled, but his heart didn’t seem in it. You put a hand on his knee and squeezed. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face melted into something softer. He took the hand in his and gave it a squeeze in return.

“If it makes you feel better, the property does have a habitat for racing pigeons.”

“Wha—Really?!”

“No.”

“…”

“…”

“I hate you so much.”

…

As the car turned off the main road, you pressed your face back against the window to ooh and ahh at the sights. The road was less maintained and significantly bumpier, but you didn’t let the risk of a concussion stop you from your sightseeing.

There were bushes and flowers and pretty trees lining each edge of the road, and one more turn had you going down what looked like a private road, or dare you say it, a driveway. At this point, you were kind of expecting a mansion, no matter what Kakashi said. What other homes had long private roads? Unless it was some kind of farmhouse? You couldn’t imagine Kakashi owning a farm, but his name did mean scarecrow, so perhaps he’d purchased it as a joke? Did rich people buy property for jokes?

As the car slowly turned one last time, the house in question crept into view. It was neither a farmhouse nor a summer estate. No, it was a traditional, single story, Japanese minka house, set amongst a beautiful and equally traditional garden, framed by beautiful trees, all of which were orange and red and practically screamed Autumn.

The house was large, but not excessively so. At a glance, you would assume it had three to four bedrooms. The roof was sloped and covered in worn shingles, stretching out to shelter the sprawling engawa. Wood and stone materials were used heavily in the walls and decorations, and lamps hung from both sides of the front door. It was beautiful.

You were out of the car the second it stopped.

Now that you were walking up to it, you could see the stone pathways, the koi pond, the sliding glass door at the side, and the shutters on the windows. It was a minka house, but it had clearly been modernised.

You heard the sound of two car doors opening and closing and figured that Kakashi and his chauffeur had joined you in front of the house.

“This is completely gorgeous! I’ve never seen a modernised minka house before. If it’s not a summer home, what is it for?” There was no response, so you turned, breaking eye contact with the beautiful house to search for him. “Kakashi?”

He was standing a few paces behind you, just staring at the house in silence.

“Kakashi—”

“Let’s get everything out of the car,” he mumbled, cutting you off and turning away from the house.

“Kakashi—”

“There isn’t that much; we could probably carry it all in in one trip.”

His tone made it clear that he wasn’t interested in answering your question. You trusted that the narrative would push you into finding out what was wrong when the time was right, so for now, you broke the trance the house had on you, and helped to unpack the boot.

The supplies in the boot took the form of cleaning products, empty boxes, and a few bags of groceries and kitchen supplies. Between the three of you, it was light work, and soon everything was resting on the engawa, ready to be moved inside.

Having other duties to attend to, the chauffeur took his leave once everything was out of the car, leaving you and Kakashi standing in front of the house, side by side. You awkwardly waited for him to unlock the door, but he didn’t seem interested in moving.

You cleared your throat, “Um, should we go in?”

Kakashi jolted like a doll suddenly coming to life and fished the key out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and the door swung open, creaking all the while.

“WD-40 who? This house doesn’t know her.”

He sighed, “Just go inside.”

“Alright, spoil sport.”

Kakashi held open the door and you went inside, slipping off your shoes in the entrance.

Inside, the house was… confusing.

Your eyes darted left and right, trying to understand what you were looking at. It was traditional but modernised with new appliances, not strange considering the outside of the house, but it looked distinctly like it had been modernised at least two decades ago. It was immaculately tidy, not single object out of place, and yet the entire thing was covered in a thick layer of dust. To make things more confusing, it looked lived it, personal, with clutter and photos, but it had an overwhelming air of abandonment.

As you said, it was confusing. Vibe check thoroughly failed.

“It’s… nice?” you said, hoping you could force your voice into something sincere. “Traditional modern vintage? Troderage? Vinadern? Whatever it is, it’s interesting, and I—”

Kakashi cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. He looked amused and exasperated all at the same time. You went cross eyed trying to look at the offending finger, which only seemed to amuse him more.

“You don’t have to find something nice to say, I’m aware that it’s seen better days.”

You went to bite his finger, so he tugged it away, leaving you to snap unsatisfyingly at empty air “Hey, I’m not lying! I like it, it has potential! And potential is the more important thing for a property in my opinion. Like, sure, you could buy one of those awful modern renovated homes with no personality, but if I wanted to live in a white monastery, I’d just—”

Kakashi took one of the masks he’d brought and pressed it over your mouth and then stretched the elastic over your ears to keep it in place, effectively cutting you off once again.

“You know I can still talk through these, right?” you asked, voice slightly muffled, but still clearly understandable. He passed you a dusting cloth and a bottle of unidentified cleaning spray.

“Just… clean. I’ll carry the boxes through and start packing, okay?”

“You’re not the boss of— Oh.” That’s right, he was literally our boss. Good job this was a porn world, because you had a feeling that real world HR wouldn’t approve.

You were rewarded with another one of his eyes smiles as he snapped his own mask into place. “Chop chop, dear assistant of mine.”

Ugh, fine, whatever. Kakashi went back out to the engawa, and you decided to start by dusting the mantel place. If you dusted the photos and ornaments first, which practically covered the mantel place, Kakashi could get started with packing them up.

You started at the left end and grabbed the first picture. Confusingly, it had been laying face down. You hesitated, wondering if it was something Kakashi explicitly didn’t want you to see. You felt drawn to it though. Was that just you being nosy, or was this some kind of hint from your porn logic overlords? Was it moral for you to look when—Too late you already grabbed it and flipped it over.

Philosophising took too long.

It was a photo of two people, obviously a father and son, sitting in the garden you’d just walked through. The sun was shining, and both people were covered in mud, clearly having just finished some gardening. It was a sweet picture, but more importantly you recognised the two people from your google searches.

It was a photo of a young Kakashi and his father. This was his—

A hand tugged the photo out of your hand. Kakashi.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think—”

“It’s fine.” His voice was short, but at least he didn’t sound angry.

“This was your family home, wasn’t it?” you asked softly.

Kakashi sighed, turning away from you to put the photo in one of the boxes. “In a way. Although I haven’t lived here since I was four.”

You put a comforting hand on his shoulder, wondering if this was where you were going to find out about Kakashi’s angst. The death of his father had definitely made an impact on him, but you had a suspicion that there was something more to his angst than that.

Kakashi looked as tightly coiled as a spring, though. You decided to wait until he was more relaxed before you tried coaxing his backstory out of him. Some cleaning would get his mind off things.

“Let’s start with the dusting!” you said, artificially injecting some chipperness into the conversation. You saw Kakashi’s shoulders lift as you stopped prying into his backstory. “You should be careful though.” Hook.

Kakashi looked confused. “What? Why?” Line.

“Because we won’t be able to tell if it gets in your hair, old man.” And Sinker.

Kakashi scowled and threw a dusting cloth at your face.

…

Kakashi warmed up again as you worked. It seemed to help him, having a job to focus on, and of course, you were doing your best to keep his spirits high as well.

And honestly, all the cleaning and mood management was well worth it to see his baby pictures! He didn’t have parents to show you, so you were taking it into your own hands. You avoided bringing attention to any that also contained his father, but there was still plenty to work with.

You squealed, pulling a photo of a tiny, grumpy Kakashi holding a freshly caught fish off the wall to dust. “Look how cute you were! You know how to fish? I’ll be honest, I didn’t imagine that as one of your skills.”

“Will you stop—” Kakashi said, plucking the picture from your hands and hanging back on the wall. “Do you have to put effort into being so nosy, or is it a natural born talent?”

“Completely natural.” You grinned and grabbed the photo back, giving it a quick dust and then putting it in the box of valuables, cooing all the while.

Kakashi rolled his eyes, but you could see the pink dusting his ears.

“Hey, here’s a question.”

“Can’t you just dust?”

“Why was the outside of the house so immaculate, when the inside looks like it hasn’t been touched in a decade?” you asked, taping up one box and grabbing another empty one.

“I hire a groundskeeper for the outside, but I personally clean the inside.”

Your face spoke for itself as you looked around the room, still half-covered in dust. Kakashi sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “I haven’t done it for a couple of years, I admit.”

You laughed, grabbing the next photo to dust. It was another one of just Kakashi, although this time he was sitting behind a dog-shaped birthday cake, scowling at the camera.

“Did you ever smile?” you asked, holding up the photo. “Even now you don’t seem much better at it, always stone faced or rolling your eyes, do I have to teach you?”

You slid the photo under your arm so that your hands were free to push up Kakashi’s cheeks into a faux smile. You managed to hold his cheeks in a forced smile for a second, before Kakashi smacked your hands away, scowling. You sent him a cheeky grin, but he only yanked the photo out from under your arm and bent down to pack it away in a box.

What you did next, could hardly be held against you. You mean, it was right there, in all its glory: Kakashi’s toned but ample butt.

You pinched it.

Kakashi jumped before immediately standing and whirling around to face you. Your grin froze on your face as you noticed something intense flashing in his eyes, the kind of intense that promised revenge.

Oh, fuck.

You broke into a desperate run away from Kakashi, but he immediately gave chase. You ran around the coffee table and into the kitchen, thunderous footsteps sounding behind you. Your heart pounded and some hysterical giggles escaped as you ran through the second door in the kitchen, grateful that it wasn’t a dead end.

“Stop running and accept your fate!” Kakashi called from somewhere behind you.

“You’ll never take me alive!”

You ended up back in the living room, but you managed to catch Kakashi in a stalemate, with you standing behind the couch, and him standing in front of it. Every time he darted around one way, you went the other. You both stared at each other, watching for even the slightest hint of movement.

“If you give up now, I promise the punishment won’t be so bad,” Kakashi said with an unfairly attractive lilt.

“If you think I’m going to give in, then you’re as senile as the grey hair suggests, old man.” To further make your point, you gave him the middle finger. You weren’t really sure how this was going to end, because he would inevitably catch you, even if only because you arrived in his car, but you weren’t a quitter and you certainly didn’t surrender!

Kakashi chuckled, and then in a second, his whole body shot forward and the man leapt over the sofa towards you. You shrieked and continued running. Adrenaline pumping, you automatically ran towards the front door.

Unfortunately, all it took was one moment of weakness. There, in the doorway, you suddenly realised that you weren’t wearing shoes. You hesitated for only a moment, but that was all it took for Kakashi to catch up with you.

“Hidden technique: One Thousand Years of Death!”

There, in the doorway of Kakashi’s childhood home, you let out an ungodly screech as Kakashi’s fingers jabbed you in a place that you really didn’t want to be jabbed.

Your back arched and your butt cheeks clenched.

“You bastard!” you screamed, turning around to smack Kakashi’s chest. He was dying laughing, happily taking your smacks. “That wasn’t funny!”

“It was very funny,” Kakashi disagreed, moving backwards to dodge your smacks. “Although maybe not for the local wildlife; I think they might be traumatised after that screech.”

You huffed, gingerly rubbing your backside as you followed him back into the living room. “You know, you are completely and utterly— Woah!”

Midsentence, because this world was ridiculous, you slipped on a section of wet floor that you were 100% sure you had already dried. There was a split second of relief where Kakashi managed to catch you, before he also slipped on the floor, and both of you went crashing to the ground.

Kakashi hit the ground first, laying on his back, and you quickly followed, landing on top of him. Kakashi let out an oof noise as you knocked the air from his lungs.

It was the exact same thing as had happened with Itachi, except you were the one on top this time. Porn logic was just running out of ideas you thought, bitter at having been tripped on a wet floor that you had already dried.

‘Careful human,’ James interjected. ‘You do not wish you issue a challenge to porn logic, because in my experience, it does not take kindly to such things.’

‘Wait, really? What happens if I issue porn logic a challenge?’

‘The last alpha who did that… well, let’s just say that I doubt their penis was ever the same again.’

You loved porn logic. Porn logic had zero faults and you wanted to kiss it on the mouth, marry it even. It was just perfect in every way.

‘Good save, human.’

‘Thanks, James.’

“Are you going to get off me or are you just going to continue staring into space?” Kakashi’s voice jolted you from your conversation with James and you bashfully cleared your throat.

“Right, yes, of course, but I am going to use your tits as leverage to stand, just saying.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes, which seemed to be his go to response when he was in your presence but didn’t protest your grabbing at his chest.

You put your hands down and gave his chest a little squeeze, ooh, nice and squishy. You were about to push off him and into a standing position, when you felt something that wasn’t so nice and squishy.

In the inside pocket of his jacket was something hard, almost like a small book. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been notable at all if Kakashi hadn’t reacted. You would have assumed it to be some kind of paperwork or light reading, but Kakashi froze, and you’d seen more innocent expressions on kids caught with their hands in cookie jars.

“What’s that?”

“Paperwork.” Kakashi answered far too quickly for you to believe him for even a second.

“Well, if it’s only paperwork, then you won’t mind me having a look.” You grabbed the book out of his pocket, dodging his attempts to stop you. Your weight on top of him was keeping him pinned nicely, and moments later you had the book held triumphantly above your head.

“Now, let’s see,” you hummed, giving the book a look. It was a small yellow book, with large writing ‘Icha Icha’ over the top. The 18+ logo on the front was a damning piece of evidence. This was a porn book. How hilariously ironic.

“I can explain—”

“Kakashi!” you said, in a faux scandalised voice.

“I read it for the story!”

You hummed, considering his story, like a judge. Kakashi stared up at you, trying his best to be the picture of pure innocence, pleading with you to end the interrogation.

Obviously, you had no choice but to push things further.

“Well, I can understand that!” you said, chipper as ever.

Kakashi blinked, “You can? I mean, you can. Great, so if you could just give it back—"

“If the story is as good as you say it is, then I would love to give it a look!” Any hope that had started to bloom on Kakashi’s face died as soon as he registered your words. He tried to sit up, presumably to wrestle the book from you, but you used a knee to hold his chest to the ground. “Now, now, you wouldn’t be so cruel as to deprive me from such a great story, would you? If it’s good enough for you to be carrying around at work, it must be something special.”

Kakashi made another swipe for the book, but you simply held it above his reach. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t! Now, let’s see…” You flicked to a random page. “This page looks like a good place to start.” You cleared your throat. When it became obvious that you were about to do a dramatic reading, Kakashi groaned.

“You’re ridiculous, completely ridiculous. I should sue you for assault and theft.”

You ignored him, scanning the page. A feral grin blossomed on your face; it was perfect.

“Elisabeth grinned down at Makoto, hunger and lust warring for dominance in her eyes, reflecting the real life battle that Makoto had just lost. Makoto wondered what it would be like to have her mouth on his—” you gasped, clutching imaginary pearls. “Oh my, Kakashi, what are you reading?”

“I’m reporting you to HR.”

“Oh? And this” -you shifted your hips against his, watching as Kakashi hissed at the pressure on his rapidly rising cock- “is going to end up in the report too, I presume?”

Kakashi had no comment to make, but his rosy cheeks spoke loud and clear. You took that as an invitation to carry on reading. You skipped a few paragraphs to get to the really juicy bits.

“Elisabeth wrapped her hands around Makoto’s neck in a gentle mockery of a collar. Makoto bit his lip, overwhelmed by the imagery. He wanted her to own him, mind, body, and soul. But first, he needed his punishment. A punishment? How exciting! Do you remember what punishment Elisabeth is going to give to Makoto, Kakashi?” You rolled your hips again, delighting in the pleasured grunt you forced from him. Kakashi shook his head as a negative to your question, something you didn’t believe for one moment; the book was clearly well loved and had been read many times before.

You leant down over his pink face and gave him a chaste kiss. You saw his arms move and for a moment you assumed that he was going for the book, but he merely settled his arms on your hips before pushing his crotch up into yours. You hummed and kissed him again. He was such a brat.

“Makoto was forced to kneel at her feet. It was with eagerness that he anticipated the crack of her whips against his skin. He had been bad, he knew that, so he accepted his punishment with grace and also a raging boner. Ah, I see what you’re into. And just when I didn’t think you could be more cliché, the CEO is into BDSM.”

“And how many porn books are you reading to know that it’s cliché?”

“Change the subject all you want; you were the one caught with your proverbial trousers down.” Kakashi rolled his eyes. He seemed to have recovered from the minor embarrassment, because the light dusting of pink didn’t get any worse. You guessed it took more than that to embarrass someone who apparently caried porn around in their pocket of their work clothes. “Okay, okay, one more and then we can keep cleaning.”

You flipped through the book, trying for find the right scene to end it on. Hmm… Maybe you should let porn logic choose? It would probably know exactly what page to pick. You closed your eyes.

‘Porn logic, choose the page that will get the best reaction from Kakashi please!’

You flicked through the pages until you felt the overwhelming urge to stop, at which point you clamped your thumb down. You had landed on page 154.

To your immediate confusion, it didn’t look like it had any porn on it at all. It looked like it was just a sappy conversation between Elizabeth and Makoto. You debated picking another one, but after James’ warning about pissing off the porn logic, you decided to just trust it.

“Elisabeth, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a while, something important,” you read out loud. Kakashi let out a strangled noise as he realised what page you were on. His lightly pink face quickly deepened into an impressive red. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.

“Fine, you win, can I have my book back now because—”

“What is it, Makoto? What could be so important that you called me here at this time?”

Kakashi whined, pressing his hands to his face. You had never seen him act like this before. You watched, fascinated, as you continued to read.

“Elisabeth… With all my heart, deeply and truly, I love you.”

Those final words were enough for Kakashi, because he easily broke out of your hold, knocking you off of him and onto the living room floor. Now free, he turned over onto his front and buried his face into his arms. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

It was as unexpected as it was adorable. You hoped this wonderful omega never stopped surprising you in the best way.

“Aww, Kakashi, I’m sorry,” you cooed, rubbing his back. “It’s okay to be a sap at heart, I won’t tell anyone! I want to keep this cute side of you to myself.”

Kakashi took a shaky breath before pushing himself into a sitting position. He was still bright red. “You are…”

“Are…?”

Kakashi gave you one of his eye smiles, reached out with a hand, and firmly flicked you on the forehead. “Annoying.”

It was such a weak attempt to restart the banter on a equal standing that you couldn’t hold your laughter in.

“You’re so pathetic,” you laughed, clutching at your stomach. “I love it.”

“So are you,” Kakashi said, pouting.

“I know, that’s why we’re perfect together!”

Slowly, Kakashi started to laugh too, joining your hysteria on the living room floor of his childhood home. You were leaning on each other, just completely lost in a weird joke that only you two could understand.

What a team you made. You really liked Kakashi. Honestly, you could say that you loved him at this point. He was just so fun to be around, fun to tease, fun to bite, everything. Being around him made you feel alive, and having money for everything you could ever need was only adding to how relaxed you had been feeling the whole time in this dimension.

You could see a very happy life here. You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that you saw an equally happy life with Itachi. Your laughter petered out as you considered the impossible choice you were going to have to make.

The knowledge that no other person would ever enter this universe if you didn’t stay only made you feel guiltier. Was it worse to leave Kakashi alone forever, but with his money and friends, or leave Itachi with the possibility of another great love, but an equal possibility of being forced to settle with some awful person who just happened to die early and choose him?

You sighed, trying to put such heavy thoughts out of your mind for now.

Kakashi was watching you, a soft look on his face. His mask had slipped off at some point during the chase, so you could see his face unhindered. He was just watching you in silence.

You reached out a hand to cup his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, still staring at you like you were the centre of his world. “It’s just… it’s been a long time since there was laughter in this house.”

“I bet.” You smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His backstory was so sad that whenever you thought about it for too long, it hurt your heart. It had been easier to read at first, when he had just been some nebulous, kind of dickish, person on a Wikipedia page, but now he was Kakashi, your Kakashi… It hurt to imagine him suffering.

His father had committed suicide when he was only four, and then Kakashi had been raised by custodians, forced into business from a ridiculously early age, and then been betrayed by those who were supposed to look after him as soon as he came of age.

“Kakashi? Can I ask you a question?”

“You? Of course. Always.”

“Do you…” You struggled for a moment, thinking about how best to phrase the question. “Do you enjoy your work? Do you like business? Because from what I understand, you didn’t really get much of a choice.”

Kakashi seemed baffled that you would ask such a question. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“I… like my job,” he said, entirely unconvincingly.

“What do you like about it?”

He didn’t answer. That didn’t surprise you.

“Did you ever get a chance to follow your own dreams?”

Kakashi blinked at you, looking lost. He swallowed heavily. You rubbed your thumb on his cheek to try and comfort him. You understood that for someone who had never been given a choice, your question might have been quite jarring.

“What are your dreams, Kakashi?”

He stared at you and shook his head, still silent.

“You don’t know?” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’s never too late to make dreams, Kakashi, remember that.”

“If you say so,” he said, trying and failing to keep a light-hearted tone. “We need to keep cleaning, you know, we’re burning daylight.”

You allowed the heavy-handed topic change to slid by without acknowledgment. “You’re right, come on, let’s get up. You’re buying me dinner tonight, by the way, as thanks for all this cleaning.”

He rolled his eyes, standing. “Fine, but I’m picking the restaurant, and I want it delivered.”

“Sounds good to me!”

…

You yawned, gratefully climbing into bed. This MC had invested in expensive sheets, and honestly you loved them for it. There was no better way to end a tiring workday than climbing into bed.

You couldn’t wait to either reject society and run off into the woods with Itachi or have a full-time profession as Kakashi’s eccentric trophy spouse. Work sucked.

You closed your eyes, and just as you were starting to drift off, your phone started to ring. Ugh.

You forced yourself awake. Your fake family and friends hadn’t even been invented yet, and you were already being bothered. You squinted at the caller ID. Oh, it was Kakashi. That was weird; he wasn’t a phone call person.

You answered the phone. “Hello? Kakashi? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for calling you.” His voice sounded strange. It was softer than usual, like his head was off in the clouds.

“That’s okay.” You waited for an explanation of his call, but none came. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, I… I was thinking about the Autumn Company Party and I…”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…” He stopped talking again. Something was off.

“Kakashi, you’re freaking me out. Please tell me what’s wrong?”

There was a pause. “Nothing, I’m sorry, I’m fine. Goodnight.”

“Kakashi—” You couldn’t get any more words out before he hung up the phone.

You sat there in bed, staring down at your call log, confused.

What on Earth had that been about?

Next chapter

[obiwanwhat]

Do you ever think about how even though the story of star wars is the story of Anakin Skywalker's fall, no one aside from Anakin and Palpatine in universe actually know the full story?

Obi-Wan never knows the exact sequence of events that led to Anakin's fall - he doesn't know that Anakin saw visions of Padme dying, or that Palpatine promised to save her. He has to live all those years with the visions of Anakin slaughtering children and he doesn't know what caused him to snap

No one aside from Palpatine, Anakin, and Obi-Wan know how Anakin got the injuries that put him in the suit. Ahsoka doesn't know and has no way to find out.

Luke doesn't know either of these things and there's no way for him to learn unless one of the Force ghosts decides to tell him

Ahsoka and maybe Rex are probably the only people alive post-OT who know that Padme is Luke and Leia's mom. Like maybe mon mothma could guess based on Luke's last name and Force-sensitivity? But i'm not sure how close she was personally with Padme. Maybe some of Padme's surviving family could make an educated guess? But either of those would be dependent on them hearing Luke's last name and guessing that Anakin was the father. Bail & Breha, Obi-Wan, and i guess Yoda were the only ones who knew for sure and they're all dead by the end of the OT

Actually now that I'm thinking about it, if Mon like, kinda knew that Padme and Anakin were fucking but wasn't close enough to really care about it, what the FUCK does she think when a Jedi kid with the last name Skywalker shows up in the Rebellion. Like does she connect those dots? Does she have questions?

but yeah who tells luke and leia about Padme. Do they ever find out?

This is a tangent but I wonder if Padme got partially fucked over in terms of "getting to exist in canon outside of the prequels" because a decent chunk of legends was written before the prequels came out (and therefore before she existed), so she never really had a solid legacy in old canon. And then when new canon rolled around, disney was really determined to not acknowledge the prequels so she got screwed out of a legacy again

Anyway

If Rex or Ahsoka tells them how does that conversation go? "uhh i guess if anakin's your father Padme's probably your mother, i didn't see her pregnant but i literally cannot imagine anakin having sex with anyone else"

But yeah thinking about the way that knowledge of the events of the prequels (especially revenge of the sith) gets passed down to everyone who wasn't alive during them is SO INTERESTING

[mashiraostail]

omg please please imagine of gale reading to tav please!!

gallleeeeee supremacy

It hadn't been a particularly difficult day, mostly traveling, seeking out merchants, supplies, and information. That being said, when it was time to wind down for the day, you were glad for it. You spent hours sitting around the fire with everyone, exchanging stories and plans for what is to come. You sat next to Gale, you found yourself usually sitting next to Gale, even before the nights you began to share, you were always drawn to him.

He seemed to have an unending wealth of knowledge to share with you, you were happy to hear it all. Glad to hear about the heavy tomes he kept with him, to pour over complicated scrolls with him, to listen to his voice, to watch his mouth when he spoke.

You leaned into his shoulder, you saw a smile tug at his profile. Halsin always had the most bizarre stories, you could listen to him talk for hours about the trouble he seemed to find so easily especially in his youth. You feel Gale's nose brush against your hairline, then he stands as Halsin's story ends.

"Before I get wrapped up in another tale of yours, I'm going to rest a bit." Gale always seemed so grateful to share in things with the lot of you, despite the death sentence in his chest. "Perhaps I'll see you all again before the night is out."

There's a chorus of send offs, and thank yous for dinner and then Gale is gone. Karlach begins to talk about her own youth and the mischief she caused. You see a bit of light flickering from inside Gale's tent, you figure he must be reading. You'd never been a strong reader, you were always so focused on fighting, it was the skill you had chosen to master, just as Gale had chosen the Weave. You wondered how he got to reading, did he imagine the stories in his head like a movie, did he just take in the words and their meanings? What sorts of books did he like to read? Romance maybe? You were sure he did. You excuse yourself to go to him. No one seemed upset by this, though Wyll prods at you a bit as you go pinching your arm and making a teasing sort of noise. Karlach laughs too but gives him a shove.

"They're in love, come off it." She snorts when she says it, just as teasing as he had been. He looks at her and you feel a knowing sort thing tug at your stomach. You save him the embarrassment though and trot off with a pointed 'hmpf' at them.

You poke your way into Gales tent, when he looks up he seems delighted to see you.

"Hello, I didn't think you would follow me." He closes the book he was reading and sits up a bit more, "I'm glad you did." He gestures for you come closer, to sit.

"I was curious." You sit with him and look at the book he had discarded.

"Curious, for what?" He always looks so intently at you when you speak, it makes you flutter.

"What you were...reading." You push the hardcover with your fingertip and he perks up at your interest.

"This is a history book, I was interested in learning more about this land. I tend to not travel this way. Honestly I don't much leave Waterdeep at all, I have plenty to learn."

"I see." The candle beside him flickered and lit his face up, his hair casting long shadows across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks. "Do you like to read history books the most?"

"Hm.." He ponders that, "no I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"I'm only curious." You continue to muddle around with the book, it looked heavy.

"Only curious? Would you like to read some? You probably know more about this area than I do though." He nudges the book towards you and you shake your head, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

"No....thank you." You shake your head and pull away from the book as if it had burned you. "What sorts of books are your favorite to read?"

"My favorite?" He wonders, "I like to read...poetry collections."

You recall him saying he does enjoy to write, "I suppose that makes sense."

"Though I won't turn my nose up at a good mystery, or even a love story."

"Really?"

Gale smiles at you his earring catches the light when he tilts his head with it, "of course. I'll enjoy any book if it's written well enough. Are you very picky then?"

"Me?" You flush, "no..no I.." You look away, "no I don't really..read much."

"I have noticed you don't bring a book, yes. Though I figured given the perils of our situation it wouldn't be abnormal to cast aside your typical hobbies." Gale is sitting across from you, your knees are touching. You know deep down he wouldn't truly care. He was a limp noodle on the battle field and he was never embarrassed to show you that. "You could have one of mine." Gale offers, "whatever you like, or we can find something more to your tastes on the road." Despite this knowing you still feel humiliated.

"No I couldn't.." You shake your head, 'these are yours, you must care deeply for them to take them along with you."

"Oh no," Gale takes your hands as they had been waving him away, "a good book is meant to be shared by all, the best service I could do a book I care for is to share it. Books are meant to be read. Whatever you like, consider it yours."

"I..." You feel his palms against your finger tips, "that's very kind of you Gale." You glance at the pile of books he kept with him, they looked equally large and intimidating.

"It's nothing, I'm glad to have somebody to share them with. Especially when that somebody is you. You don't even need to ask, take and enjoy whatever you like."

"Well.." You look away from his easy gaze and to the corner of his tent. "The thing is...I...can't....well not to say I can't I just-"

"Can't? What?" Gale sounds confused, "read?" His eyebrows shoot up, "surely you can read."

"I can read!' You shove him a bit, "just...not very well." You feel your face burning with embarrassment.

"What does it mean to read well? To read at all is good." Gale laughs a bit, perhaps at your fluster, "really, it's nothing to be embraced about. You've spent your whole life fighting, probably dealing with threats just as large as this one, who has time to read?" He turns to sit beside you, he leans against the back of his tent where it's propped against a rock.

"It would take me months to read one of these big books. I haven't got a brain like you Gale." You shake your head and lay back beside him. He seems to preen at the praise. You look up at him and he looks to you stammers for a moment, then laughs. You feel his eyes scan your face, and the heat radiating off his body. There's a silent command in the air between your that draws you closer to each other.

"Lately, it feels like I haven't got much knocking around up here at all." He taps his temple, "what have you done to me?" You smile, and give a small huff of a laugh as his hands cover your cheeks, holding your face gently and drawing you nearer. You share a kiss that's warming and kind, your hands hold onto Gale's wrists.

"I wouldn't mind, if you kept the book and took your time with it." He offers as he noses against your cheek, "they would be months well spent."

"I'm worried it would overwhelm me." You flatten the wrinkles in his shirt over his chest, "so many pages. I'd feel like I have no choice but to rush."

"You've no need to rush." He kisses you again then trails his lips to your cheek, then your temple. You rest your hand on the side of his neck, thumbing occasionally at the ends of his hair.

"Why don't you...read to me?" You pull away to look up at him, "I would love to hear what you think as we go anyway, you're much better for these sorts of things."

"Really?" He perks up again, "I fear you'll tire of my voice."

"No," you laugh a bit, "no Gale, never. Pick one, something interesting."

He goes for a moment, rummaging around his things before producing a hardcover book, he sets it on your lap.

"This one I like, it's a mystery, but there's a love story in there as well, and plenty of wonderful twists from beginning to end." He taps the cover as he settles next to you again.

"I think that will do well then." You look up at him, "you know I could not imagine doing this with anyone else. Telling you a thing like that was actually...difficult for me. I could not imagine opening up to anyone else like this."

"I should hope so." Gale replied easily, flipping open the book, "have you had other wizard callers?" He raises an eyebrow at you, "because if you have might I strongly recommend you throw them all to fire. Wizards make terrible lovers and are hardly commendable companions."

"Really?" You laugh, looking up at him. He just nods.

"They'll almost certainly take advantage of you. Truly conniving they are. Their noses are always stuck in a book, they'll jump at any attention at all. Give them an inch, they take a mile."

"Mhm...that does sound right." You agree, thumbing at the corner of the hard cover.

"Yes, truly a wretched kind that lot, certainly never to be trusted even at the worst of times."

"And what about you?" You lean against him, resting your head against him and pulling your legs up to your chest. "Would you take advantage of me? Are you to be trusted?"

"Oh," He sputters, "who, me?" He puts a hand on his chest, looking almost offended but his grin gave him away, "no not me, me so deeply devoted to you? Do you truly think so little of me?"

You snort and turn into his arm, "you're right. Are you going to read or just flirt with me all night?"

He laughs back at you, "come on then." His arm comes around your back and you peel open the book. He starts reading, his voice is quiet, as if you weren't the only two people in the room and he was trying to keep this story a secret.

It's a good story, or what you hear of it is, Gale interjects with a few anecdotes here and there but they only help the story along for you. You even interject with a few questions or shocked remarks here and there.

"No! How could he do that to her?" You cut Gale off with an offended gasp, "she loved him!"

"Wretched lot, Wizards." He taps the book laughing, "see I told you."

"You did..." You settle back into place against him. He makes it through a good deal of the first few chapters before you start to doze off.

"Your eyelids are looking particularly heavy." You feel his lips against your hairline when he says it, "are you falling asleep? Have I bored you so much?"

"No!" You try to muster the energy to sound offended, "it's good, I like it so far. Its just laying like this makes me doze off." You turn into his side, "keep going."

He hums, maybe he's considering a teasing remark about reading you to sleep, he must elect against it because he rests his chin against the crown of your head and then continues to read to you. He reads until you've fallen completely asleep, by then he's feeling heavy himself.

You vaguely sense him shifting you around to lay down, but you don't stir much, just settle into him once again.

[nex-ture]

Hello!! Can I request chuuya or dazai x GN! Reader who’s helpless romantic and just always give them praise no matter what they are doing? ALSO SORRY IF REQUESTS ARENT OPEN but make sure you drink water and take plenty care of yourself!^^

Chuuya Nakahara x Gender Neutral Reader

Me after saying I'm gonna post more and the dipping for another month

This requests old..anyways! Also this does include them both, scroll down for Dazai.

From the start of your relationship, Chuuya always enjoyed your company and the things you'd say. He would always get a little jealous if you were friendly with others, but he knew it was just in your nature.

Though you were far nicer to him. Constantly praising him or making flirty remarks whenever he is around. They'd always leave him a hot red mess.

From before your relationship started, he would always yell at you whenever you made small comments, "You look so hot today Chuuya". It pissed him off how easily your words made him melt.

He's a feared and respected port mafia boss, and yet you break him down like he's nothing. He feels a sense of comfort when he's around you.

He doesn't need to keep up some scary front when you're around. He can relax and drown in your voice as you talk to him. Your compliments and comments mean a lot more to him than he lets on.

He can't imagine living in a world without your constant praise over his existence. You're the family he wasn't allowed to have, and you make sure he knows it.

Dazai Osamu x Gender Neutral Reader

Dazai would love the way you flirted with him all the time. He would flirt back, to an extent..

You would be his main excuse for missing work, "I was with Y/n!", "Y/n wanted to hang out today." Kunkida is tired of both of you.

When he falls into a more stern or serious mood, he'll take your compliments to heart. Knowing you truly mean the words you're saying holds a lot of weight to him.

He's aware that he's not the best person. The idea of someone truly loving who he is is beyond him.

This doesn't cancel out his obnoxious-ness. He will make everyone around you twos lives a living hell. If you compliment him, he has to compliment you in the dumbest ways possible.

"Oh my love, please jump off the agency with me." All you have to do is say. "You look beautiful today, Osamu." and he will ask you to kill yourself with him.

Not to mention his clingy-ness. If you tell him he smells good, he'll cling to you all day. He just wants to make sure you get to smell the beauty that is him all day.

If you ever gift him something like a rose, he'll take it as a sign that you want to jump into a pit of spikes or thorns with him.

He makes your life all the more interesting.

[moorishflower]

Apropos of the Addams family post from a few weeks back: Hob meeting Gomez and them immediately vibing. Freak4freak friendship. Taking one look at the horrific sublime and wanting to kiss it with tongue

GOD yes like I have trouble imagining writing Hob meeting Gomez Addams actually because the IPs are so different but if he ever did it would be IMMEDIATE recognition. Same hat vibes. Have you beheld my big beautiful spouse? Behold them and despair (the despair is lovely this time of year)

Like can you imagine Hob attending ANY function in the Dreaming, either as the Dreamlord's husband or his consort? Normal McNormalman wandering around amongst gods and fey and nightmares and angels and being so painfully ordinary and HUMAN that he loops back around to being just. The cryptid in the room. Everyone whispering to each other, "Does anyone know that guy? Who is that? Did he sneak in?"

Hob just happily chatting away eating canapes and mingling and discussing footie with satyrs and shit, and finally some asshole god or demigod strolls on up to him and clears their throat, and demands to know "Who are you? Why are you here? You're just some human."

And Hob blinks his big beautiful brown cow eyes and he says "Oh! I'm here with my husband! Here he is now!" And just simp mode activates IMMEDIATELY. Dream standing there in full nightmare regalia glowering daggers at whoever has dared to impugn the honor of HIS husband, visibly bleeding shadows while the unfortunate guest contemplates how swiftly their mortality is about to be ripped from their still-conscious body, and Hob tucks his arm through Dream's, "How's your night been so far, baby? Good party, the brownies seemed very interested in the latest scores for Manchester, think they might be close to setting up a league of their own, dunno who they'd play against though. Christ, you look fantastic tonight. Doesn't he look fantastic? We should definitely dance later, imagine how you'd look on the floor with all these shadows around you. Phwoar. Are you thirsty, darling?"

"Wine will suffice."

"Sure, love, be right back. Nice talking with you, mate!" And off he trots to the refreshments table, and meanwhile Dream has expanded to roughly 1.5 times his normal height and living darkness wreathes him in an aura of cold sweat and midnight shivers, and he has to lean down almost at the waist to address whoever this unfortunate SOB is. Blinking slow and deliberate, like a lizard eyeing a mouse.

"You are lucky. My husband is in a charitable mood. If you ever speak ill of him again. It will not be his mercy you must seek."

And Hob comes back with two glasses of wine right as Dream is straightening up, and the unfortunate god or demigod looks like they're about to simultaneously weep and piss themselves, and he gives Dream his drink and then in a smooth and seamless motion gets his arm around Dream's waist and dips the 8ft tall nightmare man. Logically, and based on their respective heights, it should not be that easy, but Dream is visibly enjoying it.

"My sweet," Hob is murmuring into Dream's clavicle, "my darling, my Dream. Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes. But tell me again."

And at this point Hob's would-be detractor takes the opportunity to flee, just as Hob is planting a line of smacking kisses up the Dreamlord's neck. "Beautiful," he's saying, "ravishing, stunning, awe-inspiring."

And after that there's a sort of flyer or pamphlet that gets circulated through a bunch of supernatural circles, with Hob Gadling's name and description and picture, THIS IS THE PRINCE-CONSORT OF THE NIGHTMARE KING, HE IS ALLOWED AND ENCOURAGED TO BE HERE.

[jellieland]

One hour and thirty-seven minutes.

That's ages, isn't it? Or is it no time at all?

---

For the first seven minutes, he paces in uneven circles around spawn.

"Happy with that, are ya?" He yells at the sky, laughing. "I know I am! How's that for a show, eh?"

He stalks around, eyes burning red, as though he is hunting someone. He is not quite sure who, and he doesn't have the presence of mind to question it right now, because all he knows in this moment is that he needs to keep going and he needs to keep his sword in his hand.

It takes him a while to realize his hands are shaking.

That'd be the adrenaline, supplies a vague thought in the back of his mind.

He goes past the lava he placed that killed Scott, and pauses for a moment, and pulls out his empty bucket.

He holds it. He looks into it, as though he can fill it back up just by looking.

His hands are still shaking.

He drops it, and it burns into nothing, and then he keeps pacing until he looks down and realizes that he has tracked Impulse's blood across the grass and the stone, and then he stumbles, and then he stops.

---

He stares out across the forest for just under twenty minutes.

Blood drips slowly down his sword. The puddle of red at his feet grows. At least, he thinks it does.

He doesn't move.

There's no point.

---

For the next eight minutes, noise buzzes in his ears. Familiar whispers and disapproval and judgement that fracture the air around them.

He ignores it, for a while.

You can't ignore them forever, though. Or, at least- he's never been able to.

Eventually it's always too much.

It's one particular comment that's the final straw.

"Are you stupid? Of course I cared!" He snaps suddenly, face twisting into resentment as he jerks back to movement. "But it was Mean Gills! Mean! The clue was in the name, in case you didn't notice that little tidbit!"

Another deep murmur.

"Yes, I know I came up with the name. But he agreed to it, didn't he? He knew what he was getting into!" And he keeps talking, voice suddenly light, refusing to entertain a response. "Although speaking of, the TIE lot seemed to like the idea of TIME and SMITE, huh?"

He snorts.

"You know, I think that's probably my main takeaway from this one- turns out you can get past a surprising amount of bad blood if you just offer up a catchy team name! Who would've thought?"

Reality shivers once more.

"Yeah, no, of course it was! I don't think there was really anything else important that happened this time. Team names were definitely the main thing I had to worry about. Why, did you notice something I missed?"

The world shatters, a little bit.

He winces slightly but recovers quickly, putting his easy, practiced grin back on. "Well thank you, thank you." He makes a show of looking around, then catches the blood on the floor in the corner of his eye, and turns back abruptly to stare over the forest. "I'm glad someone congratulated me, at least. Everyone else seems to have found better things to do, am I right?"

He sighs and shakes his head, jokingly exasperated. "This is just like my birthday party."

The air hums, once more.

Again, his expression falters for a moment. "Right." He says. "Well, it's about time, to be honest. Can't imagine pestering me is very interesting anymore." He shrugs. "And hey, wouldn't mind five minutes peace on my end either."

They have stopped talking.

---

He does not.

He doesn't stop talking for the next minute and a half.

"Hey, It'll be just like the old times back in double life! You, silently observing me because you don't want to talk to me this time for some reason, me, lying in a broken heart, kind of glad that I don't have to decide whether to be grateful that someone wants to talk to me even when it's you..."

He trails off.

"Even- even when it's you."

He makes an aborted movement to take a step, then stops.

"Winner." He shakes his head in a kind of amused condescension. "You'd think that out of everyone, they would know I'm not the winner."

He frowns. "Don't know why we even still call it that. Unless... no. There's no way."

He looks up at the sky. "You know I'm not the winner, right? There was never going to be a winner." He holds out his arms as if to make himself a target, and laughs, long and loud. "What, you're not seriously telling me none of you noticed?"

He steps back, craning his neck further. The brightness of the sun makes his head pound, makes his eyes burn.

"There is no winner. What there is, is the last one to lose. And hey, HERE I AM!" He spins around, grinning up at the sky. And if that grin is still a little manic... well. Who's going to say anything about it now? "ISN'T IT GREAT?"

And then he stumbles, dizzy, and falls, narrowly missing the lava, and there is blood on his hands there is blood on his hands it's still red it's only been thirty-six minutes.

"Isn't it great." He- it isn't a whimper. It's just- quiet.

He stares down at the ground.

"This is what I wanted." He whispers.

---

He stays there for five minutes.

---

Eventually, he gets up again, because that's that he always does. And for the next thirty-two minutes, he wanders.

"Well. Now what, huh?" He murmurs. "The eternal question. Guess I'm lucky not to have to worry about it for too much longer, this time."

He leaves his sword on the ground where he fell, and he walks away.

He doesn't wipe the blood off his hands. It feels... well. He just doesn't want to. That's all. He'll be dead soon enough anyway.

At first he heads towards the Mean Gills base. In fact, he gets all the way to the shoreline before he stops.

He doesn't want to go in the water.

What does he think he's looking for there, anyway? Everything he would have been hoping to find is gone.

The TIES tower is right there, and he wanders vaguely towards it, but - well. That's just a non-starter. He doesn't care about TIES, and he never did, and they should've known that. They should've all known that, and it's not his fault that Impulse- or, uh, Etho, or Tango- didn't. It's not his fault. It's not.

He doesn't care about them anyway, so either way it doesn't matter.

Anyway, they betrayed Scott, and if Martyn has stood for anything this time, it's that anyone who betrays Scott is going to live - or die! - to regret it. Die, if he has anything to say about it.

"No-one gets off Scott-free." He says out loud, and snorts. "Ok, that's not a bad one, but it sounds way more like an innuendo than I meant it to."

A beat passes.

"Pretty sure Scott would be fine with that, though."

...Scott would be fine with this. Right?

Scott would be fine with this. He would. He would. Martyn knows he would, has proof in the form of a memory of driving a sword through his ally's chest just over there, look, he can see where it happened, it was honestly in a pretty unremarkable spot, but he knows exactly where it is, he remembers it perfectly-

Martyn knows he would, and he also knows that it doesn't matter at all, because even if Scott had not been fine with it, he still would've done it.

Next, he heads towards the mansion.

He stands at the bottom. There's a lot of water here, too.

It felt good to kill people. It always did. Almost always, anyway. He's pretty sure they all agreed on that.

There's really something satisfying about ripping things apart. It makes those last thirty minutes taste that little bit sweeter.

(he kind of gets it, is the thing. how good it feels to drink in someone else's pain and panic, to pour it back into your own glass of pain and panic, filling it back up at least a little. that's not something he's saying even to himself, though.)

Maybe it's something about feeling like you're breaking things without actually damaging anything that wasn't put there to be damaged.

Without actually saying no, and letting someone else take from your cup when it's already empty, and has been for a while, now.

But there's nothing to rip apart, anymore, except himself.

He wonders if this is how Joel felt, when Jimmy died.

...Nah. Probably not.

He wanders through the forest for a while, at that point.

He considers, briefly, heading back to his original hourglass. That's already pretty much destroyed, though, and there's nothing there for him anyway.

He could head out past the mansion, into what is essentially wilderness.

That feels a bit too much like a fresh start for his taste, though. Nothing about this is a start. No point in pretending on that front.

He doesn't even entertain the idea of the Nosy Neighbours' tower. He tries not to look towards it.

Eventually, really, it seems obvious.

He ends up on the ground, outside the clock tower.

---

He sits there for five minutes, leaning up against the tower, to the right of the crater where Jimmy died.

"You three really committed in the end, didn't you?" He says. "Colour me surprised, honestly. That's one lack of a betrayal nobody saw coming at the start. Two of the most notoriously untrustworthy people on the server, and Cleo." He laughs. "Pretty sure you'd agree it doesn't really sound like the recipe for a happy family. Just goes to show, I guess."

He pauses.

"...Didn't get you to the end, though. Did it?"

He shifts slightly, frowning, and is quiet for a while.

"You realize you could get so much more done if you just stopped caring, right?" He asks.

"That's what I did." He lies. "It's much easier."

He stares out at the ocean and doesn't look over at spawn on his left.

All at once, he feels the urge to stand up.

He doesn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever again.

"I could jump off this tower, you know." He says. "But Grian already did that one. So I can't."

He shrugs. "I guess he didn't really have the option of just waiting it out, huh? Even if he did, can't really hold it against him. I get it."

He's silent for a while.

"Not much left to see. Is there?"

---

Eventually the ghost of that frantic energy grips him again, and keeps hold of him for slightly less than sixteen minutes. He wants to pace, he wants to stab something, he wants to do anything, anything at all except sit here and feel himself slowly crack open, because if he did that then he wouldn't be able to keep everything from spilling out.

He gets up, and just sort of stands there, whole body tense.

Why did he leave his sword behind? Why did he do that, he could've at least gone looking for some mobs to kill, and then maybe he could've been killing things when he died- that would've been nice, in a sick sort of way, but-

He does still have an axe, though.

He could still do that.

He lurches forward as soon as the decision is made. Before he's even really thought about it, he dives into the river and scrambles out of the other side into the forest. He curls his hands into fists in the mud, so they're still dirty, so nothing has changed really, so it's fine, and after he takes in a couple of breaths that sound desperate - which is because he was just underwater, so he was holding his breath, that's why, that's why - he forces himself to get up, and he staggers into the darkness of the forest and please, he just wants something to hit, come on.

A zombie lurches out from behind a tree and he almost sobs with relief, and he slashes at it with his axe once, twice, three times, and it falls, and he remembers why he usually uses a sword but at least he didn't behead it, he guesses, but it doesn't help, and then a skeleton shoots him in the back, and yeah, ok, that's probably fair at this point, and he fights.

And he keeps fighting.

And it doesn't help.

It doesn't do anything.

It never does anything, and if he had somehow died here, fighting mobs, alone, before anything else had happened, before Scott, before Cleo, before Ren, nothing would really be different.

After a while, he takes a breath and it hitches, and that's when he realizes he's crying.

He growls, and he hurls the axe away, and he runs.

---

He has three minutes left, and he is running through the forest alone, breathing unsteady and frantic, panic crawling up through his lungs.

It reminds him of last life, except this time there aren't any otherworldly voices taunting him. This time there isn't a Ren for him to run towards. This time he didn't even pretend to believe the lie that he might be able to save anyone. That he might be able to save himself.

He doesn't know where he's going.

He doesn't think it matters.

He doesn't think it ever has.

He gets to the edge of the forest, and staggers to a stop.

It's the edge of the ocean.

He can see his hourglass from here.

If he was in the mood for it, he'd probably say that was poetic.

Right now, he can't quite muster any poetry, though.

All he can do is look at it, and think-

This is it.

This is all it is.

This is it forever.

"I wish it wasn't like this." He says, and it's less a wish, really, and more of a reminder.

His countdown ends.

And next time, in one form or another, it will begin again.

[melodic-haze]

Thinking about it now, yk who I'm most interested to see with reader who's Akivili's reincarnation but doesn't realise? Black Swan.

I can't help but keep thinking like. Imagine instead of the scene with Acheron, it's you who she wants to dance with. And why would you ever want to turn her down yk? She's beauty, she's grace, nobody would ever refuse her in your place.

It's clumsy at first, you never really knew that you'd be dancing in such a formal setting so you're kinda lost in this kind of situation. But don't worry, cuz Black Swan is here to guide you through every step until it all feels like a smooth wordless exchange between the two of you!!

She does find it slightly odd though, how everyone else seems to be looking at the two of you-- no, looking at you with curiosity and a want to be closer to you, with some of them even shuffling just a tad bit to dance nearby. It could be because you were one of the mysterious explorers of the cosmos......but for some reason she knew within her that that's not right

So she's undoubtedly curious, and you can see that glint in her eye as she pulls you in while you dance, and you hear her murmur "let me see you" before you feel a minor wave of something off briefly destabilising you before things go normal again. Well, not necessarily normal, considering how you feel more connected to your dance partner than ever and you feel this sense of foreboding unease from so far away......but beyond how you had to keep your guard up, it wasn't hurting you.

Things were. NOT the same in Black Swan's case. She sees your life before you got to Penacony, before your time as a Nameless, before you even discovered a passion for exploting the great beyond!! But she sees that there is another layer—one so old and so fractured and so broken and so unbelievably incomprehensible.

Like an Aeon.

The Memokeeper, much too curious for her own good to back down now, pushes through despite all the warning signs not to. These memories from beyond your supposed time? All fractured, irreparable, corrupted all through hell and back. Some of the ones she CAN comprehend is time spent by.. you and people that you've most definitely never known, all at so many different times and seemingly eras and they all melt into amalgamations of things she is sure you've NEVER experienced so what's going on????

And when she sifts through them all, what waits for her is an empty void. A purely empty space, the stars practically refusing to decorate this scape unlike before she went deeper into your mind.

And she sees youTHEM

And THEYyou reach out to her and attempt to drag her with youHERheTHEM to have her witness the lonely death of--

She severes the connection with a yelp—snaps out of it more like—as you dip her on complete accident because you placed your foot wrong. You're so stupidly proud of the save before you look at Black Swan and she looks like she's just had the most HORRIBLE scare paralysis possible. THEN your smile drops

You ask her if she's okay just in case she's absolutely unimpressed you, and it is only now when you notice all the attention on you and you ONLY❗️❗️❗️ And you pointedly narrow your eyes at her when she shakes her head and grits her teeth the slightest bit before answering. But she doesn't relent so okay fine, you won't.

But when she looks back into your eyes again and see that fire that was supposed to be briefly extinguished all those many years ago, not only is she even more intrigued, but.. perhaps even a little scared for you too.

After all, what awaits you at the end of your journey: the line that you had reached so long ago, or a new ending that over writes that abyssal loneliness?

..She hopes for dear life it's not the former.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Hello hello,dearie!!

How are you,good?

My name is Nina or Weewoo,self proclaimed platonic (Hazbin) asker!

I have seen your platonic works,and I have to say,you've peeked my interest,darling!

The way you write is very wholesome and cute,so please,indulge me in an ask!

May I request a Zestial,Rosie,Alastor,Vox,Husk,Charlie and Carmilla (you may remove,replace or add character as you so please! I simply like to give a character list so you can choose!) with a platonic!child!reader that loves art but gets really messy with it? A little energetic artist.They're all giddy and happy getting everywhere with the rainbows and sunshines. Maybe one time they get really upset because they messed up,and they start to cry? (If you need an age approximate,maybe 6-10 years old?)

I hope that not too much info!!

Have fun writing this,don't forget to drink,eat,and take breaks!!

Have a fantastic day,honey!

Stay proud.

-Nina <33

A/n: My shift key fell off so I'm having a hard time with that. Sorry if I accidentally didn't capitalize something! (I planned to also do Vox but I couldn't think of anything, I'm so sorry!)

!!not proofread!!

Roise: Doesn't care that you are messy with art at all! She'll make sure you don't stain or break anything but besides that she lets you go wild. Would probably give you your own art room. Is also very sad when you mess up. She hates seeing you sad. She draws with you to help you feel better.

Alastor: He likes you but stay away from him when painting. He would rather keep having a red suit, rainbow wouldn't suit(ha) him. Though he does give you room to paint and draw where you want. All those spaces are suspiciously close to Husk. Tries (and likely fails) to comfort you when you mess up. Might draw with you to help you smile again. After all, you're never fully dressed without a smile.

Husk: Talks to you while you draw. Kind of like you are a drunk bar patron lol. But instead of their insecurities it's what animals you like (or maybe about your insecurities too.) Very grumpy especially when you get paint on him but he does care deep down. For example, when you mess up he helps you calm down. Gets you some chocolate milk or apple juice or whatever you want <3.

Charlie: Very supportive! She'll draw with you!!! Happy to help get you supplies. While she gets that you're a child and usually wouldn't be that upset about making messes, Nifty keeps giving you death glares and she doesn't want to risk anything. Feels bad when you're upset. She'll get you anything that she can help to make you calm down, and also does a group session on learning about healthy coping mechanisms. It's supposed to help you not break down but everyone in the hotel, including her, could use it.

Carmilla: She has two kids so I'd imagine she has some experience. Hangs your art on the fridge like a true mother. While she does like you being hyper and happy she doesn't think the house needs a new paint job. She'll try to make sure you get most of your paint and markers on the paper. Like I said she has two kids so she is great when comforting you when you mess up. She'll encourage you to try again and might even draw with you if that helps.

[thedemonscrawler]

I'm just gonna do this to Ruin

LIKE. YES I KNOW HE DID EVERYTHING WRONG. BUT HAVE YOU CONSIDERED HOW SAD HE MIGHT BE ABOUT IT

Like aaaaa I'm cursed to only like characters when they're losing I guess, and a Pyrrhic victory counts as a loss. I didn't CARE about this guy when he was the main antagonist, and then Eclipse 3.0 chucked him in the back of a car and kidnapped him and I was suddenly interested. And NOW, when everyone is very much upset about Solar, I'm off to the side shaking this bastard around because we finally got some concrete answers to what's going on in his head.

Just! This whole thing-- this is an exceptionally Moon thing for him to have done. To go 'I'm going to completely and totally remove this possible threat from ever occurring, and I'm fine with being the bad guy to do it'? That's some Old Moon kind of thinking. This wasn't a plan he came up with in the past few months, this took him years.

And speaking of years! Fifty years of playing pretend! Of acting like you enjoy hurting people, that you don't care as your body literally falls apart around you. I'm not a fan of the idea that he was never infected, I like the perspective better that he was infected, it just wasn't as responsible for his behavior as he made it out to be-- but still. At some point he had to have gone numb to it for the sake of his own survival.

What does that do to your mentality? Your outlook? What's it like knowing that your whole world was brought to its knees by your creator? What's it like being the only semi-stable person you know for half a century? What's it like realizing that you're also changing, and not for the better?

He's just... so painfully isolated, in a way that Eclipse doesn't even come close to touching.

And! And even after being 'cured'! He's still isolated! Like it was a good thing he WAS up to something-- can you imagine how crushing it would be if he'd been genuinely not doing anything, and he was still treated with suspicion for a solid like 4 months? By probably the most consistent group of animatronics he's had to talk to that weren't infected with a weird virus?

Like, the man didn't get repaired until 3 months after being cured, after Solar made a blueprint in his spare time. He didn't get a bed until Moon felt guilty about rummaging around inside his head-- and tbh I don't know if he ever got to actually use that bed. He let them call him Ruin.

Ruin never had a home in 'our' dimension.

And hhhhngh like I'm not even sure he cares, because he's past the point of caring. He's got one of Sun's worst traits as well, "There's no point in sharing what I'm thinking because no one is listening". He could have approached Moon and Solar with like "Hey okay so I started on this plan to do this thing like 10 years ago, I would like some input" and maybe an alternative could have been found!

But he didn't, because he's alone. He came up with the best plan he could, weighed the risks, and acted on it, all by himself. A single weird Eclipse against 5,000 Creators, because he felt like that was the greatest threat.

And like, lets be real-- Solar's death was 100% a narrative necessity. Otherwise we the audience wouldn't really care that Ruin had wiped so many dimensions from existing, it'd just be a number. That thing of like, you gotta make it personal to have impact. Very good storytelling right there.

(Though from a in-universe perspective, man it must have been an unpleasant shock to learn that of course the only other dimensional refugee was from one of the worlds you had to destroy. Like, come on, what are the odds)

He did something horrible. A multi-dimensional catastrophe to prevent a multi-dimensional catastrophe. He probably accepted the ramifications of it ages ago. He just... utterly lacks any hope, you know? No hope of forgiveness, no hope of improvement. He survived his world long enough to do this thing, and he has nothing else going for him.

He's just waiting for them to finally kill off his body, because he already died years ago.

Anyway I'm desperately trying to find an angle that can be used to maybe pull him out of his coffin here and so far I'm not seeing one qq but maybe future eps will give me something to work off of.

[sailor-aviator]

Okay, but what if it was Victorian Era!Jake's mother or mother-in-law who laced up his wifey too tight? Just to "teach her a lesson", because she doesn't like wifey being married to Jake or something... And wifey is too stubborn to let the woman know she is in any discomfort, so she doesn't say a word to anyone about it until the event is over and she is all alone with Jake in their own bedroom, far away from the evil woman. And throughout the event she would sometimes grip onto Jake's arm tighter for support, or lean on him more, or ask to stop dancing before the song ends, and she doesn't eat much if at all of the food, even though it's her favourite, so Jake knows something is wrong, but he knows better than to verbally ask her, so he just looks at her with a look only she knows to be concerned (because Jake knows that his wife is a very proud woman, and she would hate for everyone else around her to know/think she is weak, especially her mother/mother-in-law, when the whole point is to prove a point against the woman) and she just squeezes his hand, and gives him a small shake of her head, to let him know she needs his support, but not make it too obvious (it helps that Jake never was one to leave her alone for too long at these events). And so when they are alone in their own room, far, far from everyone else, she finally lets the facade go and she gasps for air, and Jake knows immediately what to do, and he hurriedly takes the corset off, and his wifey is crying from relief when she can finally breathe normally. Jake sees red at the thought of someone doing this to her, but he is still the most gentle ever with his wife as he touches her and holds her and asks her who laced her up, although wifey can hearthe barely restrained rage. And at first she is hesitant to tell him, because she doesn't want to hurt him by revealing that either of their mothers doesn't approve, so it takes Jake listing off the potential suspects for her to burst out "no, it was my/your mother!". And she is crying and he is shocked, but only for a second, because then it makes perfect sense, and finally he understands why the woman looked so displeased the whole evening - because wifey held herself together and her plan didn't work. Needless to say, Jake pampers wifey the whole night and morning , and will never let anyone else lace her up, other than himself.

First of all, I love that we're writing novel length asks for this concept lmaooooooo

So, one thing that's very interesting about the corsets that a lot of people don't realize is that they were not meant to be tight. Corsets were meant to be support items like bras. You had to be able to move around in them and do things, so it wouldn't make sense for them to be suffocating or restrictive. I know we all want the Pirate's of the Caribbean scene where she feints, but my loves, that's just not realistic, and if you've been following me for a while, you'll know that I try to be as realistic with my historical AUs as possible.

Now, with that being said, I could see someone tying reader's corset waaaayyyyy too tight just to be vindictive!

And you're right. Jake would be absolutely livid once he finds out. He'd be so gentle with reader, stroking his hands up down your sides in a bid to soothe you as you catch your breath. He'd kiss the frustrated tears away, urging you to lay back as he strokes your hair and whispers those sweet nothings. He'd gather you up in his arms and just let you cry out the frustrations.

Now, I imagine that it would actually be Reader's mother who did this. I picture her as very controlling, wanting everything to be just so in the name of the family's honor. I'm not sure if she approves of Jake, but does know that he's from a very well-to-do and respected family, so maybe she's upset because Reader told her no about something. Mother knows best, after all, so how dare her daughter tell her no!

I think the next time Reader's mother is over, he'd do something very subtle to embarrass her publicly for the stunt she pulled with his wife. She won't soon try something like THAT again.