#and i pour the same amount of effort into them!!

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

YOU EVER MAKE AN AMV FOR YOUR SPECIAL INTEREST THAT GIVES THE IMMERSION OF A COMMERCIAL YOU'D SEE ON TV? NO? WELL I DID AND NOW YOU ALL WILL HAVE TO LOOK AT IT

[gingerbreadmonsters]

[eyes narrow]

[poppy-metal]

it was so hard not being annoying today let me tell you

[vidavalor]

Hey, so...

Have you all noticed *how* Crowley and Aziraphale are drinking in 1941? And by this I mean... that they barely are? <wink>

Crowley has been drinking for millennia by this point. He gets drunk as Bildad the Shuite in 2500 B.C.. Aziraphale has been drinking since sometime prior to the scene in Rome, which is also when we see them drink together for the first time. *This* scene is 1941 so countless years and meet ups between Crowley and Aziraphale have taken place since and considering how these two drink together in other situations-- like how completely wasted they were in the "eleven years ago" scene in S1-- this one here in 1941 is *interesting.* Why?

Because friends, that is *one bottle of wine* on the table beside Aziraphale and I can still see wine in it above the label, which means what's currently in their glasses is less than the first half of the bottle... which means the glasses they are sharing now that Aziraphale just poured are their first drinks of the evening... and neither of them are really drinking much of it. That signals an intent not to drink very much at all-- the open bottle probably being plenty for the two of them. They're going slowly, without an intention to get drunk, but not really just to savor together a particularly interesting vintage. They don't seem to be noticing or tasting the wine at all. Aziraphale poured them both a good amount but not overkill but both of them so far in this scene just take cautious, *small* sips of the wine... and they don't need to conserve it, ok?

It's not the war. It's canon that Aziraphale has a case of Chateauneuf-de-Pape that he picked up in the 1920s sitting in the back of this shop at this very minute that he doesn't bust open until "Eleven Years Ago" in the future of S1 and Crowley is a bootlegger in this moment in history lol and also they're both literally magic. They could miracle wine from halfway around the world if they wanted to. There's wine to drink if they want to get drunk...

...and they both have silently agreed that they don't want to.

It is the *only* time that they drink together in a scene that we've seen where they have a mutual agreement to not drink that much. Even when Aziraphale *didn't drink*, he still got *food* drunk while Crowley was drinking in the Job minisode.

But when they're having a drink together in 1941, both of them are very clearly, by a kind of unspoken agreement from the vibes in the room, *not really drinking.* Just a little. A few sips that will lead to a glass or two a piece total, at most-- that bottle split between them would be a lot from the air of and the pace of them in this scene.

And I mean... forgetting for a moment that Aziraphale will get drunk without issue in other scenes, we all know Crowley, right? This Crowley...

In S1, part of *God's narration* lol includes that Crowley and Aziraphale had been drinking for six straight hours in the bookshop together in "Eleven Years Ago." Rome is one thing because they had just had just met up so we don't know how sloshed they got over oysters at Petronius' new restaurant (and would seem likely that they did) but in every other scene when they drink together, basically, they drink quite a bit and both of them usually wind up drunk, especially Crowley.

So why is 1941 different?

Because they're drinking like people who both want to mess around, that's why.

Yeah, people mess around while drunk and I'm sure the same can be said for any of the few Effort-curious angels and demons outside of these two but Crowley and Aziraphale are not a casual hookup to one another-- they're in love, they're best friends, and they haven't been together before after literal millennia of pining and yearning for it. It's not something that's happening while they're drunk. They want to be sober and for it to be special and the evening here in 1941 has really got everything lining up for a perfectly romantic night, if they want it to be. All the rescuing one another and little glances and now Aziraphale's asked Crowley back to the bookshop for a late night drink and they're both drinking like they want it to be tonight.

They're both silently telling one another they want something to happen by the fact that they're drinking with no intention to get drunk. They want to be present. They want to remember. They want each other's explicit consent so they're barely drinking the wine so that it's evident that if things get intimate, it's not because either or both of them are drunk, and no one has to stop over concern over that.

Aziraphale is looking at Crowley looking all dashing, unusually quiet for him, maybe a bit nervous and still hiding a little behind his glasses-- Hell's biggest lush taking the world's smallest, barely-there sip of that wine lol-- and is like how many more tiny sips do we need to take before I can crawl onto his lap...?

Aziraphale's like omg, the sex is going to be amazing... thank God I don't yet know in this moment that something-- like some Zombie Nazis, probably-- will stop us and we'll still be on trying to kiss one another 80 years from now...

[lilypadeater]

YOUR WRITING IS SO MUAH 💋

request :3

could you do a smut where Rick is kinda mean towards the reader but that’s only because he’s into her! And he’s kinda a perv 🎀

Try It On

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Summary-(Request)

Content Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (20s and 40s) smut, p in v, unprotected, fingering, degrading, perverted and jealous rick I suppose, kissing, flirting, cussing, UNEDITED

The Georgia heat forced you to wear shorts and a tank top, which Rick definitely didn't mind seeing you in. Water sloshed around in the bucket with each step you took, and some even spilled onto you. You poured it into the cow troughs and made your way towards Maggie and Beth.

The girls were standing by the tents of the survivors living on your farm. You nearly rolled your eyes when you saw Maggie flip her hair in efforts of flirting with Glenn, one of the survivors. Beth awkwardly third wheeled them, so you decided you rescue her. "Beth, Daddy needs you," You called out.

She seemed to have caught the hint and scurried away from Glenn and Maggie's flirtatious interaction. You turned to the house but Glenns voice stopped you, "Hey wait! We need your help."

Slightly surprised, you turned back around and asked, "For what?" Maggie sauntered over to you with Glenn following closely behind her.

"We need you to come on a run with us," Maggie demanded.

The idea of going outside the farm was exciting and terrifying at the same time. There was 'infected' everywhere, you assumed. But that was simply an assumption, and you were sick of being cooped up in the farm. It couldn't be that bad, plus, you had Maggie and Glenn to watch out for you.

You paused for a moment before replying, "Well, I'm not opposed to the idea, but why?"

"We need to cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time. Glenn and I are gonna check pharmacies for medicine, you and whoever else are gonna check the stores for ammo."

Now, you were completely against the idea. Maggie and Glenn wouldn't even be around to look out for you. Your safety relied on whoever else agreed to go. "Why the hell would you even want me to go? I can barely shoot a gun."

She rolled her eyes, as if it were the most obvious answer, "You're the only other person here, besides Daddy and Beth, who knows the town as well as me. Don't worry, we'll find someone experienced to protect you." Her snarky tone ticked you off, but you decided to ignore it.

Glenn could see your unconvinced face, and decided to chime in, "Actually, I'll see if Rick could come. If he's able to protect a 12 year old boy, he'll be able to protect you."

It was embarrassing to be seen as s damsel in distress, but you really wouldn't be able to survive out there on your own. The two were eager to have you to come on this run, so you really couldn't say no. You sighed, "Fine, I'll go, but I don't think Rick would agree to it." Rick was the leader of the group on the farm, and he showed his disliked towards you the moment he laid eyes on you. It was clear he'd avoid you at every chance.

Rick couldn't deny the attraction he had towards you. The short dresses and tight tops you wore had his gaze lingering on you for far too long. Your lips looked so kissable every time you spoke to him. It was wrong for him to be attracted to you, Hershel would probably kill him for it. That's why he kept his distance from you and often gave you the cold shoulder.

When Glenn approached him and asked, "Would you mind coming with us on a run and partnering up with Y/N? She's kind of defenseless out there and we'd figure you'd be the best at making sure she stays alive." Rick didn't know what to do.

Being alone with you was something he'd never agree to, for his own well-being. It would be tantalizing to see what he couldn't have right in front of him. But knowing someone else would protect you, filled his veins with jealousy. He wanted to be your protecter, savior, and anything that meant keeping you safe. In his eyes, you were his, you just didn't know it yet.

"Yeah sure, I'll keep an eye on 'er," He nonchalantly answered.

You saddled up two horses, one for Maggie and Glenn, and another for you and Rick. Maggie rushed into the stables while holding onto Glenn's hand and giggling. Before you could say anything, Maggie announced, "Rick's just getting his gun ready, you'll catch up to us," and got onto the horse with Glenn sitting behind her. It was evident that they were going to be doing more than just searching for medicine as they galloped away.

Rick's footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned towards him with a hand on the horse's course fur. "Ready to go?" You asked softly, trying to seem polite. He just nodded in response and got onto the horse in a swift motion. "You know how to ride a horse?" You inquired, slightly confused at how well he did it.

"Yeah. Get on," He dryly answered. You were disappointed at his response and got onto the the back of the horse. Your body was pressed up against his back, making your stomach flutter and his heart race.

"This one's jumpy, so I'd be careful," You informed as you snaked your arms around his waist to hold yourself securely. The horse jolted forward and trotted out of the stables.

You directed Rick toward the town, but it was hard to focus on the dangers around you when you were so close to him. He smelled of a campfire and the forest, intoxicating you.

After about half an hour, you finally reached the town. The horse's loud footsteps attracted a walker, but Rick effortlessly stabbed it in the head. He began to tie the horse to a fence, but you quickly stood in front of him, stopping him. "What if she gets eaten?" You whispered, your voice laced with concern.

"Then so be it. There ain't nothing we can do, but this area seems fairly clear anyway," He replied with some edge and gently moved you to the side.

"Are you sure? Please can we look around to make sure?" You pleaded, feeling distressed from the situation.

He could see the worry in your innocent eyes and felt guilt creep up on him. "Fine," He grumbled and pulled his gun out of its holster.

You smiled in appreciation and watched as he tied the horse to the fence. Rick turned to you and asked, "Where's your gun?"

Completely clueless, you looked up at him and replied, "What gun?" Your father had forbidden the use of guns for you and your sisters, so the only weapon you had was a hunting knife. It was small, and you had to sneak it out of your father's shed, but it got the job done. Well, at least you'd hope it would.

He rubbed his forehead with his hand in frustration, "Jesus Christ, jus' stay close." You took this as a sign to grab his hand, lightly pulling him in the area you wanted to check. Rick was taken aback, but holding your hand was thrilling. He loved how soft and gentle your hand was, compared to his rough and calloused one.

After inspecting the area and finding no walkers, you deemed it safe enough to leave the horse. You guided Rick through the abandoned town, occasionally stopping at some stores to loot. Being in his presence made you feel safe, despite his attitude.

"This used to be my favorite place to shop," You explained and pointed to a boutique. It had broken windows and weathering, but there was still some clothing inside. "Now everything in it is free." Your comment formed a slight smile on Rick's face.

"We can check it out, but it's gettin' late, we need to head back soon," He plainly stated. You released Rick's hand and pranced towards the store eagerly. Rick followed you closely, slightly disappointed from the loss of physical contact. He did a quick sweep through the store to ensure no unwanted visitors would interfere with your looting spree.

"Look at this!" You exclaimed and excitedly picked up a short red dress with lace detailing. There were a couple tops and skirts you decided to take as well, stuffing everything into your backpack. It was dusty, but nonetheless beautiful.

Your smile and joy brought a sense of warmth around him, but the sunset outside made him anxious. "Are y'done yet? Walkers gonna be crawlin' everywhere soon," He hissed impatiently with his arms folded.

"Yeah, could you just help me try on this dress? I don't wanna take it all the way back if it doesn't fit," You replied and held up the wine red dress with elegant lace designs adorning it. He simply grumbled and followed you into the dressing rooms, hiding his anticipation.

You stepped into a dressing room and closed the curtain almost fully. The temptation to glance at you through the sliver filled Rick's mind, but he chose to turn away and ignore the growing bulge in his pants.

After undressing, you needed help zipping up the back of the dress. It barely covered your ass, so bringing it with you wasn't practical. Yet the urge to show Rick encouraged you to call out for him. He strode towards the dressing room as you slid the curtain open, revealing the beautiful dress. His eyes devoured the sight in front of him and roamed your body. Your legs and cleavage were on perfect display and the color complimented you beautifully.

"Zip me up?" You asked and turned around, pretending his gaze was unnoticed. The enclosed space required your bodies to push together. His warms hands reach your back and held you in place while her zipped it up. You could feel your cheeks heating up when his hand made contact with your bare skin and his erection pressed against you.

"Y'like it?" You whispered and tilted your head back, peering up at him through your lashes. Rick's eyes hungrily stared down at you as his hands traveled to your waist.

"Mhm" he muttered, tracing your body with his hands.

“Show me how much you like it,” you muttered, leaning into his touch and turning to face him. His lips grazed over your forehead before you felt his rough hand slip under your dress.

A smirk formed on your face when you met his hungry face. You guided his hand to you inner thigh, letting out a breathy gasp when his fingers reached your heat.

His fingers brushed over your soaking clothed pussy, "Fuckin' minx, already so wet." The feeing of his fingers rubbing your clit and hearing his words sent chills down your spine.

Rick's movements brought you close to the edge, just for him to slow down and deny your release. "Please," You whined, only receiving a sadistic smile from him. His hand left your clit and slipped out from under the dress, leaving you frustrated for more. "Just fuck me already," you panted, desperate to alleviate the growing desire between your legs.

He said nothing, simply cupping your face with the same hand and shoving the damp fingers into your mouth. You were surprised, but still felt yourself sucking on them eagerly, slightly tasting yourself.

"Only if you ask nicely," He smugly whispered into your ear before pulling them out.

"Please fuck me," You pleaded. In one swift motion, he spun you around and pressed you into the wall. Your hands supported you against the wall, as the sound of his belt unbuckling ignited a fire in your stomach. He pushed your dress up, just enough to slide your underwear to the side and coat his rock-hard cock with the arousal on your folds. The sensation earned a whimper from you as you struggled to stay quiet.

Rick eased into your drenched cunt slowly, giving you some time to adjust to the stretch. Your tight cunt squeezed around him, almost too tight. He was pressed deep inside of you, practically pushing against your cervix. He began to slowly thrust in and out of you, filling the small room with your whimpers and his groans. “You’re a fucking slut,” he rasped, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. A loud and desperate moan left your lips as he sped up, grabbing your hips to push himself even deeper.

His hips rutted into yours roughly. “Fuck, I’m almost there,” you panted as the tingling sensation in your stomach increased.

A sinful smirk played onto his lips and he muttered “Good girl.” His praise sent you into your orgasm as he could pounding into you. Your walls clenched around him, finally slowing him down as he approached his own climax. You Rick grabbed a fistful of your hair and brought you closer to his face, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He stuffed your cunt with his cock completely before coming inside you, painting your walls white. You moaned into his kiss, satisfied at the feeling of being so full.

He slowly pulled out of you, causing some of the white liquid to dribble out. Your lips disconnected, gasping for air. Rick stared into your eyes with a sense of astonishment as you both caught your breath.

You met his eyes and smirked, “I guess you really liked the dress?”

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Lmao this took me so long to finish cause I was like “wtf am I doing” the whole time, sorry if it’s a little all over the place

Make more requests guys 😜

[section-chief-prentiss]

Maternity Leave (part 1/3)

Summary: Past your due date and feeling desperate, you and Emily try everything you can to start labor.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader 

Word Count: 1,761

TWs: pregnancy, labor, fluff, comfort

Ao3

PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

Every day past your due date that you woke up and weren’t in labor caused you to be in an extremely bitter mood.

Your raven-haired wife’s eyes would flutter open to find you curled around your pregnancy pillow, lips furled into a tight frown. Her eyes would crinkle in sympathy, and she’d reach out to comfort you.

By the fifth day, you’d officially had enough. You waited, somewhat impatiently, for your wife to wake up, wanting her to be well-rested. Your back was aching; there were no comfortable positions anymore—not sitting, standing, or lying down—and you felt like you were getting bigger every day.

You’d pushed the blankets off of you long ago—you were too hot these days, so all you could bear to sleep in was a sports bra and underwear—to look at your stretched belly. You rested your hand on it, feeling your daughter shift beneath your touch.

“I love you,” you mumbled, “but you can’t stay in there forever.”

Emily’s hand reached across the bed to rest on top of yours. “Still nothing?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you said, attempting to shift into a more comfortable position and wincing when you failed.

“Never apologize for that. How do you feel?”

“I love our daughter, but I want her out. Today.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Today, huh?”

“I had a lot of time to brainstorm when I wasn’t sleeping, and she’s coming out today.” You couldn’t be swayed.

But you knew your wife loved a challenge, so she sat up with a mischievous smile. “Whatever you want. What’s first?”

Fortunately, you had a specific craving that you hoped would move things along. With assistance from Emily, you sat up, resting your back against the backboard, and rested both of your hands on your ever-expanding belly.

“Baby wants scrambled eggs for breakfast. With extra spicy hot sauce.”

Emily leaned over to give you a peck on the lips before bending down to do the same on your bump.

“Whatever baby wants,” she said, throwing the blankets aside and jumping out of bed.

“I’ll be down in a bit,” you called after her, envious for a time when moving didn’t require quite so much effort.

Slowly, you eased yourself out of bed and threw on the first oversized t-shirt and pair of sweatpants you could find before making your way downstairs to the kitchen, where Emily was already hard at work.

She wasn’t much of a cook, but throughout your pregnancy, she’d mastered scrambled eggs and managed to make them exactly how you wanted.

It had taken you so long to get to the kitchen that breakfast was almost ready by the time you sat down. Emily already set the hot sauce on the table, and you debated the pros and cons of just emptying the bottle directly into your mouth.

But you weren’t quite that desperate yet.

Emily dumped the majority of the scrambled eggs onto your plate before setting a small amount on hers. She set the pan down in the sink and joined you at the table with a kiss on the top of your head.

“What else is on your master plan for today?” Emily said, reaching for the salt and pepper.

You bypassed both and started pouring hot sauce all over your breakfast.

“This,” you said, pointing to your plate. “Then some curb walking to that Indian restaurant for the spiciest spicy curry they will let us leave with. Curb walk back, eat the spicy curry, and if I’m still not in labor, I found some workout videos on YouTube that have comments raving that it sent them into labor.”

“And if you’re still not in labor?” Emily asked through a mouthful of eggs.

You stabbed the plate with more aggression than you’d intended before shoveling in as many eggs as you could fit in your mouth. The hot sauce burned, but you powered through it. Anything to not be pregnant anymore.

“Don’t you dare say that,” you said with a growl.

Emily raised her hands in surrender. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

You ate your breakfast quickly but with determination. As you chewed each bite, you waited for something to change, but to your disappointment, your plate was finally empty, and you still hadn’t felt anything.

Emily cleared your plates, knowing better than to ask after seeing the look on your face.

No amount of food was enough these days; so despite having just eaten, you were ready for some spicy curry.

Emily threw on some leggings and a t-shirt, tied her hair back into a ponytail, and joined you in the living room. She put on her own tennis shoes before putting yours on for you. You couldn’t remember the last time you could reach your feet.

Though it was only a few blocks’ walk to the restaurant, you could tell Emily was hesitant. If you did go into labor, it would be a long walk back, but that was a risk you were willing to take.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassured her as she held the door open for you.

You fought back annoyance as Emily refused to take her eyes off of you as you walked; you had to remind yourself that she only did it because she loved you to keep yourself from snapping in hormonal rage.

The walk to the restaurant was quick, and you’d placed the order on the way there so you could pick the food up and turn around immediately.

The walk back felt much longer, your body aching all over. But when Emily offered to run home and grab the car, you refused to give in. You would try this, and it would work.

As a reward, when you made it home, Emily rubbed your sore feet as you ate as much spicy curry as your stomach would allow. When your stomach started rebelling, you had to ask Emily to put the rest in the fridge.

You spent the rest of the day relaxing together until you regained enough energy to try the workout videos you’d found. Again, Emily hovered nearby in case you needed her, but you kept your focus on the TV, hyperaware of every sensation in your body, ready for any sign of labor.

But nothing came.

By nightfall, you were exhausted physically and mentally. Tears brimmed in your eyes. You’d come so far, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were failing. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding your belly, and your tears fell onto it.

Emily stepped out of the bathroom to find you a sniffling mess.

“Oh, love,” she said, sitting beside you. “Tell me what I can do.”

You rested your head on her shoulder, tears still flowing. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “She should be here by now; I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey, nothing is wrong with you,” she took your hand in hers. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

You nodded and sniffled, not trusting your voice.

“Will you let me try something? It might help.”

You lifted your head, feeling wary. “What?”

“Stand up for me?”

She got to her feet first, offering you her hands. You took them gratefully, and she pulled you up.

She walked to the wall on the side of your room and pressed her back against it.

“Turn around,” she said.

You obliged, and she pulled you so your back was pressing against her body.

“I’m gonna lift your bump to try and take some of the weight off for you.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure? She’s pretty heavy…”

Emily scoffed. “Have you seen my arms? I’ll be fine.”

You giggled; she was right.

“Ready?” she said, interlocking her fingers and placing them under your bump.

“Yes.”

Gently, she lifted your belly, taking the weight from you.

The groan of ecstasy that fell out of your mouth was inhuman; your eyes fluttered shut, and you leaned your head back onto her chest. You could feel Emily’s arms shaking slightly from the weight, but you knew she would never complain. She would bear the weight for however long you needed her to.

Emily kissed the back of your neck. “I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you more,” you echoed in pure bliss.

After a few moments of peace, you knew you couldn’t ask Emily to hold on much longer. “You can set her down,” you whispered, bracing yourself for the weight to return to you.

Gently, she released your belly, and you immediately ached for her to take it away again. Instead, you whipped around and pressed your mouth against hers, hungry for her.

“You know,” Emily said with a giggle as you planted kisses down her neck. “There is one thing we haven’t tried to start your labor…”

She didn’t need to say anything else. You practically leaped into bed, Emily right behind you, stripping her clothes. You climbed under the comforter together, and you took a few minutes to try and maneuver the best way to pleasure your wife, but your belly posed an obstacle. It had been weeks since you’d last felt sexy enough to be intimate, and you hadn’t thought about how much a large belly would get in the way.

“Lay back,” Emily instructed, situating you on a cloud of pillows. You obeyed and felt the closest to comfort you’d felt in weeks.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered, removing your clothes. When it was just your body and hers, she started biting your ear and planting kisses in a pattern down your body and over your bump.

You shifted a bit, pain lacing through your lower back.

“You okay?” Emily asked.

You nodded. “Keep going; you can’t imagine how that feels.”

With a smirk, Emily teased you, bracing a knee between your legs. You rubbed against her, pleasure building in your core. Even the persistent aching in your back couldn’t pull you out of the moment, this perfect moment where the only things that existed were you and your stunning wife.

“Are you ready for me?” Emily purred.

“Yes, love,” you panted.

“That’s my girl,” she said, parting your thighs with two fingers. You eagerly anticipated her entry, locking your eyes with hers, when you were interrupted by a new sensation. Water trickled down your thighs and onto the bed beneath you, and you sat up with a start.

Emily sat up with you, excitement in her eyes. “Is that…?”

Nervousness blossomed in your chest, quickly eclipsed by excitement. “My water just broke.”

Tag List:

@yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss, @i-lovefandom, @tireddeadgirl, @lez-talk1, @emilyprentiss-ily

Join my tag list!

[thefanficmonster]

Love in Color

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Romance

Summary: Nothing speaks to the soul quite like expressive art. Or maybe the even more expressive artist behind it.

The spring breeze wafts in through the open windows of the small room, curling the curtains to its will. The pleasant smell of freshly bloomed flowers lingers in the air although one could hardly sense it over the suffocating tension that's settled in the room ever since Benedict entered to find Y/N already in there.

Although not a word was exchanged between the two, just her gaze was more than enough to let him know she'd rather be anywhere but in the same room as him. Still, her stubbornness overpowered her distaste for her fellow up-and-coming artist and she remained seated even after Benedict decided to make himself comfortable in front of the canvas farthest across the room from the one she'd taken up.

They are just a couple months away from the mandatory presentations of their final pieces and not a single artist in The Academy can rest easy until they perfect their art. Some have approached the situation as much more dire than others would perceive it but that is simply the burden the so-called greats have to carry.

Y/N and Benedict are prime examples of those artists.

For the amount of disagreements and stubbornness that resides between them, it's quite the miracle they are so alike in nature. And, dare I say, in talent as well. Of course, artists and their art are not meant to be compared but you could never miss the similarities. Not in their pieces, per se, but their personalities.

Competition comes in conjunction with the acceptance letter to The Academy. It comes as no surprise that this place is not exactly a breeding ground for friendships but this headbutting between these two exceeds all limits.

"I sure hope that is mere practice." The mockery in Benedict's voice almost makes Y/N's eye twitch as it echoes off the walls of the silent drawing atelier.

He'd been keeping a watchful eye on her work this whole time, even sacrificing a few important brushstrokes due to his divided attention. Good thing this is just a perfecting attempt on his understanding of anatomy, otherwise he'd be far more upset.

She's become well versed in his game by now. He simply cannot withstand the thought of being in her vicinity without provoking her in one way or another. Although she knows better than to feed into his entertainment, she'd also rather pour ink over a canvas of hard work than take his teasing laying down.

"Very like you to not be able to distinguish practice form a developed piece, Bridgerton." The bite to her words is not at all softened by her leveled tone. If anything it packs that much more of a punch.

One that provokes a smile from Benedict.

"I fail to see how that is my fault. You clearly have made very little effort with this piece but the same could be said for many of your previous ones." He's in no way sincere. In fact, he is openly lying on a dime. He adores her art. All games and personal biases aside, as someone with a distinguished taste in art with a high standard for beauty, he cannot, in good conscience, say her art isn't exceptional.

"Paying more attention to my art than your own, are you?" She doesn't bother turning her head his way, offering him nothing more than a view of her side profile.

"Nothing worth of my attention." He muses, almost forgetting the stool has no backrest as he leans back, catching himself just in time to not topple over and give her the satisfaction she most definitely would've held over his head till the end of time.

She hums knowingly, almost humorously, "That misshapen attempt you have over there says otherwise." She isn't far off the mark. His gaze has been more entranced on each brushstroke of her hand rather than his own. He's missed far more marks than he'd like to admit.

She has him there. But Benedict Bridgerton is nothing if not quick on his feet, "That is certainly one way to admit you are unfamiliar with abstract art. How embarrassing on your part."

A scoff parts Y/N's lips, her head finally snapping in his direction, their eyes meeting with a fiery flare. The tension is so potent a flick of a lighter and the room could be set ablaze.

The temperature only keeps rising when she stands up from her chair, crossing the distance between her canvas and his with three long strides as she comes to stand beside him. Sweat beads form on the back of his neck as a chill rushes down his spine. It is a common reaction his body exhibits whenever her proximity breaches the limitations of scandalous.

They're alone. Unchaperoned. Too close to keep the ton's mouths shut if they were to be seen.

His hand comes up to tug at the collar of his shirt in desperate need for more breathing room. He unbuttons the top button on instinct only to realize how inappropriately the action could be perceived. To his relief, Y/N doesn't seem to notice or care. In fact, she's incredibly disinterested in him at this moment, instead offering her whole attention to the painting in progress.

"Abstract, you say?" She muses, reaching down to toy with one of the paint brushes laying in a small blue pain puddle on the palette. "Allow me to fix it for you."

Before Benedict has even had time to process her words, with a swift snap of her wrist the canvas has now been unflatteringly stained with a blue splatter across it that makes his jaw drop.

"You vixen...." He mutters, eyes wide in absolute bewilderment as he watches the splatter drip paint down below it, coating the previously warmly colored drawing with blue streaks.

"My most sincere apologies, Mr. Bridgerton." The faux remorse in her voice raises his blood pressure a whole lot higher, causing him to gulp down his frustration. "It appears I really lack the understanding necessary for abstract art." If looks could kill, she'd be dead. But that glare, that very glare right there provides her such entertainment.

Having expressed her remorse, she slyly goes to make her way out of the atelier, hoping for a celebratory cigarette outside in the garden now that darkness has enveloped the horizon. However...

Before she has even made it halfway to the door, the loud thunder of quick footsteps shake the walls and marble floor. She's barely had time to turn around to witness the most childish retaliation of all time - Benedict has resorted to smearing the entire palette of colors on Y/N's canvas.

I believe this is an appropriate time to mention that they are both aware of how ridiculous this is. It's not even about the pieces, they were mere attempts. Practice pieces, if you will. It's not about them whatsoever. It's the principle. The disrespect, the mockery.

The need to retaliate for every small comments and remark has now become war, fighting fire with fire. Or rather paint with paint.

With redness clouding her vision and practically all rationale having left her mind, Y/N reaches over to grab the small bottle of ink on the professor's desk. A couple steps later and she's dowsing the canvas with it. She hasn't finished spilling the bottle when a hand engulfs her wrist. In a futile attempt to put an end to her offense and save what's left of his painting's dignity - not much, to be honest - Benedict moves her hand, redirecting the stream of ink so now it splashes on them.

His white shirt and her silver dress are now a quarter black in the front.

That realization brings on a brief moment of peace and silence. No movement, no sound. They're just staring at each other in complete and utter disbelief.

A beat later, they burst out into laughter.

"Oh now you're getting it." He warns her, his words breaking them away from one another like opposite charges of a magnet.

They both hurry to arm themselves with paint they can smear on the other but Y/N unfortunately is beaten to it. She's still in the process of gathering ammo when something cold hits the exposed skin of her upper back.

"Purple goes rather well with your dress." His comment boils her blood, making her immune to the cold paint she's now coated with and fueling her into counterattack resulting in red paint drowning out whatever white parts were left on his button-up. She even got a good splatter on his cheek.

Her cocky smirk speaks volumes as she observes her latest art piece, "Red brings out the color of your eyes quite nicely."

Although he's acutely aware of her comment being nothing more than a tease - as is she in her entirety - he can't help the way the breath was knocked out of him

"Is that so?" He muses, slowly crossing the distance between them as if taunting her to run away.

She doesn't. She doesn't move an inch from her spot, instead crossing her arms over her chest as she hums an affirmation that doesn't even fully leave her lips before they're engulfed by his.

If he was worried about their earlier proximity being considered scandalous, he's clearly lost all rationality now considering their bodies are practically molding together, paint-stained hands roaming previously unexplored territory, fingers tangling in each other's hair, exhales mingling in a single breath.

Suddenly, neither of them seems to mind the mess they've made of themselves. They've been wreaking havoc on the other's composure since the day they met, a couple ruined garments and canvases is nothing.

Some things are so much sweeter when you're not supposed to want them, let alone have them. Taking them despite potential repercussions is a thrill that can't match a single high. So, scandals and the ton be damned, he's taking her. Here and now. Paint and all.

* * * * *

The following morning, upon returning to her room from a lecture she cannot remember whatsoever, Y/N finds quite the surprise awaiting her.

~ Forgive me for ruining your dashing gown, Miss L/N. I unfortunately never got to tell you how greatly I like seeing you in it before I ruined it. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't redeem my actions. So, I beg of you to accept this gesture as both a peace and courtship offering. ~

~ Benedict ~

She rereads the note atop the gown laying on her bed at least three times before she realizes she's smiling and blushing - a reaction she would've condemned herself for just twenty four hours ago. Now, with the, um, new developments, being taken into consideration, she allows herself to revel in this unfamiliar feeling that has filled her with a sense of joyful giddiness she can't recall ever feeling before.

As she falls onto her bed, still grinning from ear to ear, she allows her mind to toy with the idea of giving this offered courtship a chance.

After all, no one has ever brought so much color to her life quite like Benedict Bridgerton.

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter II

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader

Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation

Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Previous Chapters: I

Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.

You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what’s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”

Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.

Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.

“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”

Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.

Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.

Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.

“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.

“You wanna come over?”

It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.

“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”

You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”

As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.

Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?

But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.

“Can’t wait.”

You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.

The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.

You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.

He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.

If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.

But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.

“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.

“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”

“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.

“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”

You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.

“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.

“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.

Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.

His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.

“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.

“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.

His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.

You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.

“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.

“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.

“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.

“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.

He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him. 

“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.

His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.

He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.

“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.

“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Really? I didn’t even notice…”

“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.

“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.

“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.

“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.

“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.

There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.

You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.

Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.

The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.

Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.

Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.

Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.

“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.

“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.

You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.

Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.

Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.

A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.

The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.

You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.

The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.

You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.

Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.

Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.

“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.

Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.

“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.

“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.

“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it’s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”

“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you. 

“What?”

“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.

There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.

The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.

“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.

“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains. 

He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.

You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.

“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.

“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.

“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.

“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.

“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.

“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.

“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.

You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.

Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.

Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.

“Did you get home okay?”

“Since when do you drink?”

“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.

“You have to tell me everything!”

Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl

[cheezbites]

Dating Ghost

✎: I wrote this very late at night (4:38 am) or very early in the morning - when I was motivated by the sheer amount of notifications from my inbox, ty all sm for the love and support💕!!

♡Summary: Head cannons of dating Ghost <3

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Bf!Ghost has always been a black tea person, either he drank it alongside his breakfast or to calm him down on a rainy day. You were a coffee girl, you would go all out making them - milk, hazelnut syrups, whipped creams… You name it. And from this, another one of your childish inside jokes was born. You were conveniently in the kitchen at the same time as him, making your morning beverages.

“Hm,” you silently thought to yourself, contemplating if your idea was rational enough to act through with.

“Hmmmmm,” he jokingly imitated you, wondering what was on your mind.

You got a separate cup and mixed some of his tea with your coffee. You took the first sip and scorned your face at the unfamiliar yet vaguely distinguishable taste.

Soon he followed, not seeming to be too fond of it at first yet still drinking every last bit.

“Not too bad,” he silently muttered.

And every time you guys were in the kitchen making your daily beverages, the ‘CoTea’ (Coffee and Tea) inside joke was repeatedly brought up.

Bf!Ghost heard a sudden shriek from your bedroom, causing his heart to sink. His thoughts raced faster than the speed of how fast he was approaching your room, desperate to know what it was. What if it was an invader? He wouldn’t be able to live knowing that he wasn’t fast enough to save you from a serious threat, he’d hate himself and feel guilty every single day.

His breathing pattern returned to normal as he sighed in relief when he realised that it was just a spider on your bedroom wall.

“Shit,”

“It’s going to kill me!” You sputtered inattentively as you backed away as far as possible from the ‘murderous pest.’

He stacked a mount of tissues in his hand and effortlessly scooped it up, crushed it into remains of spider limbs and a brown fluid before tossing it in the bin. Shooting you a look that you swore said: ‘Seriously? All that commotion over that?”

“My saviour,” you quipped as you ran up to him and braced him in a tight hug.

Bf!Ghost was used to receiving the “Your eyelashes are so long!” ‘compliment’ from people, mainly from you. It always confused him as to why you pointed it out - maybe it was just a ‘girl thing’ he didn’t understand.

Bf!Ghost was sleep-deprived, sick and unwillingly glued to his bed after days of working, so you took care of him. (At night, when he was complaining about being too cold, you snuggled up next to him and fell asleep in his arms. Maybe he was faking it as an excuse to cuddle you, maybe…) You knew he had an energy drink addiction and some bad eating habits. Since quality meals require time, you poured that time into cooking for him. His gratitude toward you was beyond words, appreciating the care and effort you put into taking care of him. Your cooking not only filled his stomach but also warmed his heart, making every bite a taste of your love.

Bf!Ghost worked out often; so did you. You enjoyed each other's company at the gym, immersing yourselves in the shared playlist and the post-workout rush. His concern for you couldn't be contained. During some weekly sessions, he taught you self-defence techniques, a thoughtful gesture for times he couldn't be by your side.

Bf!Ghost loved making you say ‘please’, even after the smallest of favours. You tried to open your water bottle, but the lid seemed super glued on, you tried repeatedly but your attempts were in vain. You asked him to help you, forgetting one thing:

“Want me to feed you the water as well?” He sarcastically quipped with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh come on babe,”

“And what’s the magic word?” He asked expectedly.

“Please,” you stretched out your ‘please’ jokingly for the sole purpose of teasing him.

He seamlessly removed the lid which astonished you before handing you your water bottle. After all that effort and failed attempts, he made it look so easy.

Bf!Ghost Loathed being away from you; and you felt the exact same way. When he needed to leave or when you were gone, he would try to do things that reminded him of you. When you were teaching him how to cook your signature meals in the kitchen, he was picking up rapidly, improving and learning - soon enough he surpassed you in culinary skills. He remade your recipes to remind himself of you when you weren’t there, and you ‘borrowed’ a few of his hoodies, which were pleasantly engulfed in his scent.

Bf!Ghost Noticed you fell asleep during the horror movie you watched, the last thing he wanted to do was startle you or wake you up. He turned off the TV before heading to your room and placing your favourite blanket over you. He kissed your cheek gently and muttered a silent, “I love you.” Before calling it a night.

Bf!Ghost left wholesome notes for you to discover around the house; the messages were cheesy in the cutest way possible. Either him making you food after a long day of work and leaving it for you in the fridge with a brief note next to it, or a corny compliment stuck on the bathroom mirror for only you to see. It would be something along the lines of:

“Start your day off with a smile love, like the one you never fail to give me♡” (And I feel like this dude would have very messy handwriting, but when writing these notes he tried his best).

Bf!Ghost made most of the decisions in the relationship, you were very indecisive. This is probably the only thing he mildly dislikes about you - you were going through the trials and tribulations of a lifetime over picking between KFC and McDonald’s, you were persistent about what to order too, so he recommended stuff to you or sometimes ordered for you.

(I just know if you both got drinks, he specifically requested only one straw so you guys could share it).

Bf!Ghost was the “‘Scuse me, she asked for no pickles,” boyfriend, who would secure you a refund and a newly made burger, (mainly due to how intimating he gets at times).

You thoroughly enjoyed him looking out for you, though, knowing that he cared that much about you made your heart flutter only from thinking about it.

PART TWO IS OUT!!! <3

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Masterlist

[eroslove88]

I just want to make you feel good

GIF MIGHT NOT WORK. :( SORRY!!!

Warnings: Death of reader's fiance, DICTATOR ALBEDO, mention of war, overstimulation, light bondage, femdom with fiance a bit, starvation, kidnapping, sex with fiance, and NONCON with Albedo

Pairing: Yan! Albedo x Reader

Note: I'm pretty proud of this one. Not proof read, please share! 🫶 It would mean a lot!

Many years ago you poured your heart out in form of love letters to him, and although they were anonymous, at first, they soon would turn to flirty messages. He'd give you gifts and while you thought he liked you, deep deep down you knew he didn't. Especially when his attention started to slip, his messages stopped, and the ignoring started. A part of you wanted to ask him, what did I do wrong? It's not like he knew about all the smutty things you'd say when he posted a photo to your friends, 'I need him so baddd' or the 'Oh he can get it ;)' , yet maybe he did. Maybe somebody told him about how you were nervous because his parents didn't approve of dating outside the culture. You can't help but feel this take a toll of your pride- and dignity- your mind recalls the things he'd say about you, "She's so cute"- hell if you really were then he would have put the same amount of effort in. Not that it mattered anymore.

With what courage you could muster up you decided to message him how you felt about his recent absence, 'Hey! So I know we haven't talked in a while, but I wanted you to know that I feel pretty strongly about you, and I know you probably don't. But I would prefer you just tell me if you weren't.' However, due to the time difference (4am for you and unfortunately, 1pm for him) to your horror he reads it right away. You decide to just go to sleep, you already know the answer, and besides it honestly didn't even hurt when you woke to the message blabbing about not feeling the same way. About a week later an old friend reaches out to you about missing you, and so you get closer with them.

Like a flash 3 months go by and he's your boyfriend; he's sweet, patient, sensitive, non egotistical, and beautiful. He's open with you about how he feels and he communicates well him you about how he feels and what he wants, arguments are easy to get through.

After high school you found yourself engaged quite young, younger than you thought- 23- while attending med school across the country. Your fiance would occasionally visit you and you two would have fun.

"Mmm~ slow down" he'd groan, head tossed back as the flesh light in your hand moves up and down along his cock. He was so beautiful tied up and completely at your mercy, "Ah~" he whispers, "Th-The visit is su-supposed to" you shush him. "I know, but I enjoy this more" you lean in and start nibbling across his clavicle while you forced his already sore cock to pump the cum filled flesh light. "I just want to make you feel good" you whisper in front of his lips before kissing his beautiful lips, pushing him against the head board of your twin bed. Your other hand come up and lightly wraps itself around his neck, and you can tell he's almost done. His tongue jolts and you feel his body begin to shiver slightly. It's his 3rd time cumming tonight, but you've been so stressed with finals coming up that you don't plan for this to be his last one, "Gorgeous, as always" you mumble kissing his forehead before kissing his collar bones and working your way down; from his chest, to his pelvis, to his cock. It's so sensitive it twitches when you kiss the head and although you can't help but chuckle you decide to look up at his face. He was panting, his eyes watered, and his lips were slightly parted. You wanted to give him the world, but right now the most you could give him was pleasure so you grab his hips and start to slowly make your way down his cock. After his 2th time cumming down your throat he begins to whine and cry, "N-no no more, hun" you sigh and begin to untie him. "You did better this time" you whisper before cleaning up the messy bed. When you crawl in next to him he holds you, tight, very tight. You giggle as he flips you into your back and pins you down, "I thought you were tired" you snort out. He rolls his eyes, "I'm just returning the favor" Before you know if he's picked you up by the thighs and has you slammed against the mattress, that's new. He's quite strong and he begins to absolutely dominate your mouth making you pant into the kiss. He moves down your torso; from collar bones, to chest (he nips at your pretty nipples too!), and down your pussy. He practically rips your legs apart and starts to ravage you. Your hands reach out to pull his messy hair as your pelvis lifts up to grind against his nose. He's always been good with his tongue, and he knew that. "Ah- more, please!" you cry out as your thighs close around his and your back arches, trying to chase your high. You don't remember the boring things after that; how many times you came on his tongue, and cleaning up. You do remember the question your fiance asked you though, "So, are... are we still virgins if we haven't done penetrational sex?" you look at him, "Oral is a kind of sex, but we'll do vaginal after the wedding" you respond before scooching closer to him and clinging onto his torso.

Unfortunately, this wouldn't last. Not when this was your last intimate night together. That morning you remember it so clearly. The news had been reporting on absolutely crazy protests against the government recently, but you couldn't have ever imagined that the president and his family would flee the country. Airlines were ordered to stop sending out flights, and the new leader, who had been planning this, ordered for the country to immediately be on lockdown. Boarders were closed, trading stopped, classes were cancelled, and the internet stopped working. All that happened in the span of 6 months, you never married your fiance, and because of neighboring countries attempting to come to the citizens' aids- despite out leader not allowing it- it lead to war. War leads to drafts, and with that your fiance was sent away.

You had no idea how he was doing, and to call yourself down you would usually dive into your studies- which were cancelled- or you'd call you fiance- which was not an option. Back in your home town, much time everywhere else, the streets were full of tanks and soldiers. You felt safe in your childhood home, and you decided that mayb being with family would help. Wrong, they actually made you more anxious about your betrothed, and with that you decided to try visiting your friends. All were frantic as well, but what surprised you the most was the question, "You're here?" you tilted your head, "Is this not a great time?" she pulls you in with your other friends already inside, "You're safe?" you nod before the other girls come in to hug you. "I thought he had found you!" blonde exclaims. You pull away from the hug, "Who?" you ask dropping your bag. That's when they started telling you the whole story.

You see, Albedo was always awkward, and you kind of figured that maybe that was the reason why he didn't tell you right away about not liking you. He was a year older and you decided to take the same science class as him, not because of him, but because it actually interested both of you. He was your lab partner and he mentioned the events of the previous year and out of anger you may be have blurted out, "Yeah, and I bet you didn't tell me right away because you're so insecure that you probably didn't think you'd get that kind of attention from a girl again, so you lead me on to boost your ego" and genuinely for the first time, he looked hurt. You apologize and because your teacher heard, she allowed you to change partners. 3 months ago an order was sent out for your capture by the leader, Albedo. Why, you had no clue.

"Maybe he wants revenge..." you mumble petting the fat tabby cat she owned. She shakes her head, "No, you were just being honest and it was mostly true" your other friend butts in, "You just need to lay low" you nod and put the cat down. "I should head home to say goodbye to my parents" you grab your bag and hug your friends goodbye before walking out of the apartment, and suddenly you felt the immense pressure of eyes on you.

When you got home you almost felt like vomiting, your parents were sitting at the dining room table. "We sent for them about a week ago" your father starts. You step bsc, but a soldier's hand from behind stops you. They can't even look at you and your eyes begin to water, "We needed to ensure the safety of your sister and... us..." your mother adds. You shake your head, "What about mine?" you ask in between sobs before one of the waves the other 3 soldiers away making them grab you and begin to drag you out. You wanted to scream, but all you could do was cry.

You were thrown into a cellar, you didn't get up to scream you just silently laid on the cold floor and sobbed, loudly. All this adrenaline made your head hurt and before you knew it you knocked out, and when you woke up there was a bucket, and a gallon on water. "V-very funny asshole" you tell out hoping you maybe spot a camera in there, "Are you trying to humiliate me?" you ask kicking the bucket. Hours passed by and... nothing. You decide to drink the water, your stomach growled as your sat patiently talking to yourself about some stupid medical notes you remembered. When you woke up the light was still on, no food, only the gallon that was now full- despite you only drinking a bit- and the bucket. You had to pee, but maybe you could wait. After what felt like an eternity you realized you couldn't. Maybe days went by, you felt your hips and felt your hip bone protrude from your skin, and you couldn't get up anymore. You were so hungry, "Al..." you whisper. Nothing. You cleared your throat, "Albe..." you couldn't finish before you started sobbing. The door opened. You couldn't even look up you just kept your head down before your were slung over someone's shoulder, you wanted an end to this misery, but the sight of platinum blond hair had you thinking it wasn't just over yet before you passed out.

You woke up to blackness, a blind fold, you opened your mouth to begin the sobbing before a finger pressed against your lips, "I don't like it when you cry, hun" you felt soft lips kiss your cuffed hand, "The examination processes will be over soon, and then we'll get you some actually food" his voice was calm, almost as if you weren't just starved for who knew how long. Closing your mouth to tried to suppress your little cries and small jolts of your body. After what felt like decades the bed shifts so that you're sitting up, the blindfold is taken off and you're faced with that pretty man you envied, yet admirers much. In a table next to him he has a bowl full of broccoli cheddar soup, the steam is still coming off it. He blows on the spoons before using his other hand to pull your jaw down, "Remember, it's hot" he warns before feeding it to you. He doesn't say anything else after that, and when the soup is done a soldier comes down to grab the bowl and takes it away from the room. It's quiet, and while you can't look at him, he doesn't ever take his eyes off you. "How was med school?" he asks hoping you'll turn to face him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, only shaking breaths. "I remember it being your dream and all..." he trails off. It was silent again. He clears his throat, "You know, you've always been bad at keeping the conversation going..." silent tears fall down your face. Albedo sighs before uncuffing your limbs, and you don't know what possessed you, but you reach out and he stops you with ease, "The point of the starvation was you weaken you" you look like a scared bunny, your nose flaring slightly and eyes squinting a bit staring at his perfect face. "Stand." he demands. You shake your head, "No?" he asks. "Because you can't?" he quirks a brow. You nod and he looks down at your slim legs, they were shaking. He bends down and picks you up bridal style, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck before your tossed onto a bed. It's beautiful; the room's color scheme was gold and brown, but there were some banners along the wall with red, and thick curtains covering the windows. You're assuming he caught your stare, "And bars" you look back at him confused, "Bars along the windows"- oh that's what he meant.

The room is kind of dark due to the lack of sun- hold up- you look up and he's looming over you. "Albedo..." you whisper pushing yourself further up the bed away from him, "Yes?" he asks maintaining the same position. "My..." you break eye contact, a bit embarrassed to ask actually, "My finance, was..." he tilts his head, "What?" you stop scooting up when you hit the soft pillows, "Dr-drafted." you finish. He sighs and shakes his head, "Yes, I'm aware." he straightens himself, "It's all for a good of the country" you open your mouth with your eyebrows furrowed, "Besides, why do you think you're here?" he asks. Now his beautiful, bright eyes are holding contact, you shiver a little not really sure what he means, "I realized that you were right, no other woman would like me the way you did," you open your mouth to correct him, that's not what you meant, but he interrupts you, "I've grown to realize that I actually did feel for you. In a much stronger way" he grabs your ankle and your weak fingers try to grab on the sheets beneath you, "I wanted to kill that man the second I found out you two were... exclusive?" he rolls his eyes. You're right under him, and his hand is wrapped tightly around your left ankle. He pushes your leg as far as he can back towards your head to test your flexibility, "When we're done here I'll take you down to see the remains of your 'fiancé'" a meek squeal leaves your mouth before he let's you go to undo his belt you kick his torso and begin to book it, but you don't make it far before he grabs you and you're slammed on the bed, harshly. You sit up and he immediately smacks you across the face; in a quick moment your vision goes black and you hear ringing in your ears. You begin to scream and sob as he flips you over knto your stomach.

"I'm sorry hun..." he mumbles, "You just make it so difficult." Begs leave your lips, "Pleasepleaseplease, no. Albedo. Albedo! Albedo!" he easily lifts up the skirt of the night gown he gave you and stops for a second to drop his pants. "I love you." he states to coldly as his hard cock is aligned with your cunt. You arch your back in pain as a loud shriek leaves your mouth, he almost wants to believe you weren't doing this with your boyfriend, until he sees the red blood trickling down, he doesn't comment on it, but you know he's happy or at least relieved. Once his cock is all the way in and only cocked sobbed leave your lips he leans forward and whispers in your ear, "I just want to make you feel good" he takes a shakey breath, the most human he's been, "I'll make sure the next time you to change yourself you only think about his good I made you feel" he pulls away and grabs your hips. You grown as he pulls out a but before sliding in with your slick. Swallowing the lump in your throat you bite your tongue to suppress the breathy moan you want to let out. You've always fantasized about having something inside you, but you didn't think it'd feel this good, or under these circumstances. You ass jiggles as he harshly makes contact with it and his pelvis. You use your elbows to prop you up so that he can hit a better angle, and he knows it. It stroke his ego how you act like you don't like it, but it's your hungry pussy that's dragging him in and slobbering all over his length. He hears your groans become louder and your cunt begins to twitch around him. "F-f-fuck" you sob out in a defeated tone. A hand comes down to play with your poor pearl, you squeal at the familiar sensation. "N-no!" you shout. "Yes." he responds nonchalantly. You limbs are ready to give out, as your on all fours panting like a dog on the bed. You shriek at and cum all over him, but he's not done yet. It's for you, so you're going to enjoy it as many times as he seems fit. "More." he says flips you over to stare at your blissful face. His hands pin yours down and he quickens the pace, a light outline of his cock visible in your stomach. You close your eyes to avoid his gaze, but he doesn't care, he just wants you to feel good.

[three--rings]

Threerings' Dinner Plan

Okay so you've got the average or more than the average amount of stress and limitations to your time and/or ability, but you like to eat good food. And you know you need to both eat healthier and more cheaply (i.e. home cooked food.) What do you do?

Well in the past few months I've kinda perfected a system for low effort cooking of very healthy meals that last for many days of leftovers. None of this is revolutionary or anything or original but IDK it's working really well for me so I'm sharing.

(Also this is for omnivores. Sorry non meat eaters.)

Basically the idea is sheet pan meals. Like I said, not revolutionary. But I've found a system to make it as easy and low-effort as possible.

Step One: Choose your meat and recipe.

So mostly I use chicken for this, because it's cheapest. But if your store is having a great sale on pork or beef, by all means. This last week I did pork tenderloin cause they were super cheap I just searched for a recipe for sheet pan pork tenderloin and adapted it.

But we're gonna assume you're going chicken. So I really only like chicken breasts, but if you like thighs you can use those because it's cheaper. I typically use about 1.75-2lbs of chicken at at time for these recipes.

So what I do is buy the thin sliced chicken breasts from the store. The benefit here is they are already pre-trimmed of all the nasty parts so you're not paying for bits of chicken you don't want and also you don't have to handle and cut the chicken yourself. All I do is open the package and I cut each piece of sliced chicken in half in the middle, horizontally. You don't have to do that, but it makes all the pieces about the same size and it fits better on the tray and then people can take exactly as much meat as they want more easily. (I'm only feeding two adults but it would work well for kids that way.)

Step Two: Veggies

So that's your meat, then you need veggies. I use frozen veggies because they are 1)cheaper and 2)pre-cut. You can pretty much use whatever veggies you like with whatever recipe, but I try to keep it in theme. Like with a Mediterranean dish I did onions and bell peppers and cauliflower. Recently I got a bag of "roasting vegetable blend" that was excellent with brussel sprouts, butternut squash, and onions. Get the higher quality veg like broccoli "florets" cause it's worth a few cents more. You will need/want more veggies than you think, like 20 oz total, you can mix a couple small bags of different ones per tray. And they will shrink a good deal in cooking.

Step Three: Sauce/seasoning.

And then we have seasoning/sauce. This is where I turn to internet recipes for "sheet pan whatever chicken." But I have a few I've used that I've adapted so I'll give them here. Whatever you do, basically you just mix the sauce and pour it over the chicken and/or vegetables and throw it all on a sheet tray and cook it in the oven. (Specifics below.)

Korean Chicken

4  tablespoons dark soy sauce (I've tried both dark works better)

4 tablespoons brown sugar

2 tablespoons neutral oil

1 tablespoon sesame oil

2 teaspoons Sriracha sauce

4 cloves garlic , minced (or ½ teaspoon garlic powder) (I use pre-minced jar garlic for ease)

1 tablespoon gochugaru red pepper flakes (if you don't have these just either use a smaller amount of regular red pepper flakes or just more sriracha. This shouldn't be really HOT, just tangy. )

Do Broccoli and Chicken with this, and mix it all in the sauce. It makes the absolute best broccoli EVER. Like I just want a plate of this broccoli it's so GOOD.

Greek Chicken

2 tbsp olive oil

2 tbsp fresh lemon juice

6 cloves garlic minced

1 tbsp dried oregano

1 tbsp dried parsley

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/4 cup feta cheese crumbled

(Sub pre-juiced lemon juice and jarred garlic for ease.) Marinate the chicken in the mixture for like 30 minutes first if you have time. Onions, bell peppers and zucchini is good for this. Don't add feta until the last 3 minutes of cooking, sprinkle feta over it and then put it back to get a little melty and browned.

Shawarma Chicken

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 teaspoon ground coriander 

1½ teaspoons paprika (may substitute smoked paprika)

2 teaspoons ground cumin

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon fine salt

¼ teaspoon black pepper

3 tablespoons neutral or olive oil

Juice of ½ lemon

You can again marinate the chicken for a bit if you want. But you don't have to. I recommend cauliflower for this, with whatever else you like. Grape tomatoes are good too. For this one I sprinkled the veggies with curry powder to make sure they got seasoned because there wasn't that much of the marinade.

So for ALL of these the process is this:

Preheat over to 450

Spread the frozen veggies all over a sheet pan (wrap the pan in aluminum foil first for easy clean up.) You can drizzle them with oil, salt and pepper, or a little of the sauce/marinade and toss to cover. Toss the sheet in the oven while it's still preheating. This will get the veggies started and defrosted before you add the chicken so it will all cook together.

Meanwhile get the chicken ready/wait 10-15 minutes for the oven to heat and the veggies to start cooking. (If you're using smaller/more tender veggies you can cut this time. Skip this entirely if you're using fresh.)

Mix your thin sliced chicken pieces with the marinade/sauce. Remove veggies from the oven and push to the sides to make room for your chicken in the middle. You can also simply lay the chicken pieces over veggies if you don't care about the veggies getting carmelized. Arrange your chicken and dump all the sauce. Return to oven.

Cook for about 20-25 minutes. You can check the temp of the chicken with a thermometer, but it's so thin it should be fine. This is why we start the veggies first so they can get mostly cooked and have time to start browning without overcooking chicken.

Remove from oven.

Serve with rice. I have been going the ultra-lazy route of using frozen microwaveable rice, but some of you may have rice cookers.

Congratulations you have a super healthy meal. If you feel crazy you could make a second tray of veggies at the same time and just have less meat with each meal to stretch your $. You could also add beans to your veggies and same.

My husband and I can get dinners for 4-5 days out of one of these meals. But neither of us eats a lot at a sitting, so ymmv on that.

You can also probably see how to adapt this. Find a sauce/marinade recipe, choose veggies and meat, and go! You will have to figure out the cook time for different kinds of meat though.

[lizlovell]

You're Losing Me

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Angst//part one

part 2

summary:You and Draco grew distant for the first time ever in your relationship of two years.You are getting tired being the only one trying to fix things.

As the third week of December drew closer, the sky became gloomier with cold embracing the Hogwarts and its library became busier with scrambling students stressed out for midterm before the winter break.But this december not only brought cold to your school,but also to your relationship with Draco Malfoy,unfortunately there is no amount of sweater u can wear to recover from it.

''We both are just probably busy with studies,everything will go back to normal once the exams are over''

You try to comfort yourself as you tag your freezing hand inside your coat,remembering how Draco used to always scold you for forgetting gloves.He would hold your cold hands nonetheless,and put them in his coat for extra warmth. You felt a pang in your chest when u find yourself thinking about the memories again. No matter how hard you tried to ignore,you can't shake off the feeling of the way his eyes turned icy whenever he looks at you now.

You haven't talked to Draco properly for a week now. It's either he is studying or you are busy with essays. And in meal time in Great Hall, his cold galres and sharp replies drained your energy to talk at all. But, you can't just let it happen, not when you have spent your past two years falling head over heels for the blonde boy.So,you tried your best to pretend like nothing is wrong,like the physically painful tension between you and him doesn't exist at all. And finally,the exam is over before it snaps.

''Dray..do you wanna go to Hogsmeade together before the Christmas break? ''

His eyes are tense.His brows are frowned noticably. The pale and long fingers are folded far away from yours.

''I don't rlly know. I might have to go home ealier this year''

Lies.

''we can at least spend tonight together right?we can go to astronomy tower and-''

Then it snapped.

''No,Y/N .I don't want to. The exam just finished. Let me live''

It is like an ice bucket has poured over your head. Numb, lost and cold.

''..why'',you sobbed out .

''There is no why.I'm just tired. and we do not have anything to talk anyway,do we? Y/N...we spend our days in same routine:what's still there to talk. stop playing pretend. we both know we need some break''.

You desperately searched for any signs of intimacy in his eyes,any signs, just anything at all,but the silver orbs are colder than ever. A gust of wind rushed through and messed up his blonde locks. You felt a chill run down your spine.

''a break?''

Suddenly,everything start making sense to you. How he had time to run around from parties to parties but not for you.How his laughs faded when you entered the group conversation. How he dropped your hand in the hallway. How he hasn't hold u for a month now. The exam wasn't a cause,it was a mere excuse all along. He was falling out of love.

''not as in break but you know what i mean...'', his tone is soft with guilt lingering around. A heavy sigh left him. He gets closer to you awkwardly. Can this even be called as a hug? Instead of the warmth it used to give, it feels suffocated and forced. You shivered.

"whatever you mean Draco''

You are getting tired being the only one putting effort. Staring at his messy hair and his stressful figure, you've decided you are going to let this go. All these memories you made in two years, all the ''I can't live without you'' talk. All the sneaking between classes,making love. Love? Was it even there.

You dropped his hand. You ignored the uncertain guilt in his eyes. You turned your heel and walked away.

Draco never meant for this sort of thing to happen between two of you. You were precious. The way your soft touch traced along his face to comfort him whenever something worried him. The way you squeezed his hands with a smile whenever he felt the disappointment in himself. You saw things other could not see in him. Your lips brought love and peace he didn't even know exist in him. He didn't realize how he should be grateful for the things until they are gone. Now everything is gone. He thought he might feel free and less responsible once he is away from you. He put all of his stress and the pressure from his family on you. Merlin,he feels the terrible guilt ride in him.

He spent the entire holiday forcing himself to believe he did a right thing and he should feel more satisfied now. He didn't. His days became more terrible. He started to notice how clean his dorm used to be when you were around. He started to find himself subconciously looking for your presence in his sleep. The alone time he thought he needed start to haunt him down.

He waited. He waited for you to come back to him like you always did whenever he pushed you away. But he grew more restless day by day whenever he see you in the hallways and classes unbothered and calm sitting NOT next to him. For once in his life,Draco Malfoy knew he fucked up. He has lost you.

. . . . . . .

part 2

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 6: Baking and Cookie Decorating (Winter Wednesday)

Sicky-sweet Steddie decorating cookies from Dustin's (very irritated) POV

“Steve! What the fuck?”

“Dusty!”

He stills at the sight of his mother, materialising from behind the island countertop with a fresh tray of Christmas cookies in hand. Yeah sure, they smell delicious but Dustin still manages to make the intended disapproving face at her chiding.

Honestly, the woman swears like a sailor. She’s only scolding him because they have company. That company being Steve, who is currently standing at the counter too, piping bag in one hand and a cookie in the other as he stares back at him like a guppy.

Dustin glares. If he was still going to hang around here so much, why didn’t he just move in with them and not the Munsons when his parents skipped town?

He purses his lips. Eddie.

This all has to have something to do with Eddie. Why else would Steve be standing in the kitchen, wearing a frilly apron and looking far too pleased with himself while he and Dustin’s mother bake what can only be described as an industrial amount of Christmas cookies?

He has that look too, all angelic and innocent and cozy like an absolute dingus. The same look Steve has had on his face ever since he and Eddie announced they were an item.

A sicky-sweet, ooey-gooey annoying item.

Dustin opens his mouth to say all of that but he catches Steve catches his eye and smirks at him. Shit.

He looks at the cookies, smelling a hint of cinnamon.

Steve quickly returns to his task: shakily piping icing onto the cookie in his hand just in the knick of time as Dustin’s mother turns around.

Goddamn it, their aprons match.

Dustin pinches his nose.

“Steve wanted to make some cookies for Eddie and Wayne,” his mother explains, arranging the newly baked tray on the counter in what appears to be her typical assembly line.

“Yeah…” Steve nods, channelling any shred of concentration he has into the wobbly icing he is applying to a tree-shaped cookie a mere inch from his face.

Dustin reaches for the platter plate filled with neatly decorated cookies but his mother waves his hand away.

“I don’t get any!” he asks, “They can’t all be for Eddie!”

“No,” his mother says and he smiles as she gestures to a Tupperware container already filled, “Those are for Wayne to take for his last shift at the Plant before Christmas break.”

“And mine are…”

“Oh, Dusty!” she grumbles, “I’ll make you some another time! I thought you’d be gone all afternoon.”

“I ran out of money.”

“Poured your pocket money into trying to beat the Star Wars Flyer high score again, didn’t you?” Steve mocks, snorting a laugh as he sets a cookie on the Christmas plate.

Steve’s icing efforts are so wobbly and uneven that they look as if he has left them out on his back decking on a hot summer afternoon.

“No,” Dustin lies, “I – ”

The sound of the door out to the backyard squeaks open and Eddie skips inside like he’s a perfectly-timed sidekick from a goddamn TV show.

Dustin glares again. Bingo!

“Ms H.,” Eddie says, giving a faint salute before producing a bag of something from behind his back.

“Thank you, thank you thank you!”

Dustin watches, mouth agape as his mother makes a beeline for Eddie, takes the bag of flour (as the label says) and kisses the idiot right on his cheek.

Eddie smiles, his deceptively cherubic dimples indenting his cheeks as he flutters his eyelashes like the world’s biggest kiss-ass.

He then rounds the counter and slips onto the kitchen stool, practically knocking Dustin off his axis as he goes.

“Dusty,” he quips, straight in his ear.

“Piss off!” Dustin curses, flinging his arm through the non-existent space between them to shrug him off.

“Dusty!”

Eddie raises a hand to his chest, clutching his proverbial pearls, “So rude of you to speak to a guest like that, Dustin. And in your mother’s home!”

Steve barks a laugh, squeezing his piping bag enough that a great blob of icing plops onto a bare cookie.

“Oh, no,” he mumbles, looking down at the spillage utterly shell-shocked.

Eddie plucks a cookie from the Christmas plate, and Dustin folds his arms with a huff as he watches him hold it up without any protests from his mother.

He holds the cookie up, examining it carefully.

“Did you make this all by yourself, Stevie?” Eddie feigns wondering aloud, using that tone he does with Steve that is all flirtatious.

“With Claudia’s help,” Steve replies, smiling all sickly sweet it makes Dustin want to barf.

Again – ooey-gooey and just so goddamn annoying.

Claudia elbows Steve in the side and chuckles, “I only provided the recipe, really.”

“You’re giving away family recipes now!” Dustin complains.

“I’d hardly call Gan-Gan’s recipes sacred,” his mother defends, making a face, “In fact, I’ve changed them so much over the years, they are more mine than hers, so I can give them to who I damn well please.”

Eddie leans forward, pointedly looking at Dustin and nods in condescending agreement, his scraggly hair flopping in his face

His mother doesn’t catch it – she never does – and simply turns back to the oven. Meanwhile, Steve reaches for another cookie and hands it across the counter.

Dustin perks up until he bypasses him and hands Eddie another treat.

“Here,” he says with a flick of the wrist, “Try this one.”

Eddie again scrutinizes the treat, pouting and all considerate with the typical level of dorky theatrics Steve seems to go ga-ga for.

In rolling his eyes, Dustin regrettably glances at Steve, who is biting his lip with anticipation.

Eddie takes a bite, humming loud and rather obscenely and yet, once again, Dustin witnesses no scandalised response from his mother.

“You like it?” Steve smiles.

“Takes as good as you, sugarplum,” Eddie hums, dropping – and spitting – crumbs everywhere.

“Guys!” Dustin begs, fearing his eyes are going to roll into the back of his skull and never return, “Stop it!”

“Dusty!” now his mother stands to attention, “You can stop being so rude!”

Eddie snickers and hops up from his seat to stand impossibly close to Steve at the counter. Steve hands him the piping bag, the pair grinning at each other as they set about decorating yet another tray of Christmas cookies.

Dustin stomps his foot and marches out of the kitchen, ignoring the chorus of giggles behind him.

[soothinglee]

rainy days⏤✰

lee felix x reader | 0.8k✔︎

my notes⎯ I hope you like this one! I personally love when it rains so why not combine my two favorites! lets cross our fingers and hope I can get another story out by tomorrow. also I found that I get a lot of inspo at 4 a.m, something about the peace and quiet!

warnings ⎯ none! just some (failed) light-hearted humor.

genre⎯ fluff

songs⎯ prelude in e minor, op. 28, no. 4

⎯ catalog for skz✰

the forecast on the news had told viewers that there was an expectant rain shower coming in from the south. nothing too heavy where you had to be worried about ringing out your drenched socks and fighting back when the wind upturns your umbrella.

that weather man is a liar.

the downpour that hits your windows drums in a consistent pattern, puddles of rain water pools on the window ledge, the wood begins to warp after countless efforts of stopping the leak from the cracks in the seal, ultimately ending in vain.

you had ditched the soaked towels for a warm cup of tea, wrapped in a wool blanket on your couch as a re-run of some over-rated show plays on the monitor. it had be only 30 minutes since you last heard from felix; he had texted you notifying that practices had ended early due to the unpredictable storm coming in, how chan firmly told them to stay safe on the way home and how 'fatherly like' he was acting.

in return you heart his message and send back a- he's right! no texting while driving! see you soon!

due to the rain clouds hovering over the sun the sky had darken in the short amount of time it took felix to get home, and when he did he did not try to hide it.

from the kitchen, where you were huddled over the kettle on the stove, you heard the front door smack open and seconds later a loud squelching sound.

"babe?" he drawls out, unmoving from where he stands, "can you uh, can you come here?" theres a comical desperation in his voice and you can't help the chuckle that slips from your lips.

you ditch the mug in your hand to cater to your helpless boyfriend, who stands there with his arms eagle spread, hair stuck to his forehead and neck like glue. there was a faint smell to him that started to over power the candle you had light awhile ago.

"phew," you huff, holding your nose walking towards him. a amused smile graces your lips, "you smell bad."

he rolls his eyes and lets you take his jacket off his back and watches you drop it to the floor, "yeah yeah, just hurry please? it's starting to get itchy and I don't know if its me or outside but something isn't right."

"yeah you think?" felix lets out a laugh and attempts to grab you with his wet sleeve but you manage to slip away in due time, though not without a scar. the backside of your sweater has a long wet strip in the middle of it. "look at what you did to me!"

"how about you quit complaining and help me!"

"nobody told you to go out and not bring an umbrella."

"(name)!" he takes his second jacket off and leaves it where the other lays and begins to remove his shoes. he takes a second to look at it, then at you, and then tips it over. a bucket full of water pours from the sole and onto the circle carpet underneath him.

as you stand there you can't help the horrific expression that makes its way onto your face. neither of you say a word as you watch the last couple droplets fall before you sniffle and shake your head blankly, "that's just disgusting."

felix, with the same expression says, "tell me about it, I wore it."

after a second you shake your head to clear the revulsion and go to grab all the discarded clothes. they feel ten times more heavy in your arms due to them being in a bundle so you rush towards the laundry room to leave them there. on your way you shout to felix, "go in the kitchen and finish off the tea! I started it before you came in."

Felix makes a delighted noise and you hear his bare feet smack against the floorboards, "for me?"

you roll your eyes though he can't see it and round the corner to where he stands hovering over the sugar and honey, "duh, but save me some."

"of course." his voice comes out as a soft mumble and you can't help but smile.

both of you stand there in each other company. it was peaceful, the sound of the rainfall against the roof of your apartment, fighting its way inside through the windows. the occasional clink of the spoon to the mug as felix stirs in the sugar. no bright overhead lighting, the only source of lumination was the small table lamp in the next room. you close your eyes to take it in. it made you feel serene.

a light weight is pressed onto your shoulder and you open your eyes to find felix looking at you with a glimmer of concern, "you okay?" he whispers, careful not to rip the ambiance with his voice.

you hum, a gentle smile taking over your face as you lean forward and place your head on his hand, "never felt better."

[akutasoda]

Hallo halo!! If is okay could i request venti x reader one shot? Where venti and reader and a group playing truth or dare and someone dare reader to cuddle their crush or someone they want for the whole game and reader walk up to him shy and embarrassed yet hopeful waiting for his permission and what venti reactions when he found out reader choose him? (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

a game of confession

synopsis - a game of truth or dare forces you to make a confession

includes - venti

warnings - gn!reader, brief mentions of alcohol, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 1k

it would've been a normal night at angels share, if not for the increased amount of people pouring into it. you had built a habit of visiting the tavern frequently to hang out with the usual trio of rosaria, kaeya, and venti - whether or not this was a good habit remained unclear to you, atleast you weren't there every night like they were. they were somewhat good friends of yours and most often, this would be the only time you could see all of them at the same time, however tonight it seemed to be busier than usual as you could see a couple of non-regular faces around.

as soon as you stepped through the door, rosaria turned to wave you down from across the tavern and encouraged you to hurry over. normally you'd sit next to the three of them on the stools beside the actual counter but seeing as a couple more people were joining, they had taken up a booth not to far from the usual spot. tonight it seemed like eula and lisa would be joing the four of you - kaeya was also insisting that he'd convinced diluc to join nearer to closing time but none of you really were all that convinced.

angels share itself seemed much more populated with practically every seat in the room being occupied, but even so barely a single one would pay attention to your booth - they were all too swept up in their own drinks and conversations to care. you might not have been the heaviest drinker out of the group but this time was rather special as it was pretty much the only time you could all let loose and talk much more freely than everyday greetings - arguably alcohol did make a few of your companions quite loose lipped.

as the evening progressed, more people stumbled out of the tavern, and easy chatter and laughs faded from your booth as lisa proudly declared she had an idea. you all looked at her waiting for her to explain what her great idea was and eventually she smiled and announced 'how about a game of truth or dare?'

kaeya let out a small laugh before responding 'why not? im in', he then proceeded to signal over to diluc to join but it was clear that diluc was ignoring him and his efforts.

rosaria nodded before taking another drink and eula agreed aswell, you decided that there was no harm and agreed soon after.

a mischievous giggle escaped the bard and he proclaimed 'sure, who's starting then?'

lisa made a vague gesture to point to herself which made sense since she had proposed the idea. then she went about looking at everyone at the booth before deciding on her first victim. a couple of rounds had gone past and all it really was, was just standard rather subpar dares and a few boring questions so lisa decided that perhaps it was time she picked up the pace when it next became her turn to pose a question.

she turned to you with a smirk which made you shiver more than you'd like to admit 'truth or dare', admittedly you'd rather pick truth as you were concerned that she might have a rather embarrassing dare lined up but you knew that she probably could embarrass you alot more with truth. it felt like picking the better of two evils really, but eventually you pushed down your slight fear and picked a dare.

'i dare you to cuddle your crush for the rest of this game, as something tells me they might be sat right here with us' her smirk became much more evil and you immediately regretted picking a dare. you had absolutely zero clue how she even found out, was it really that obvious?

you knew there was no way to get yourself out of this and so you decided to swallow your dread and stand up. you moved to the other side of the booth and shuffled past lisa and sat beside venti. you swore you'd never felt so embarrassed in your life, you needed to remember to get lisa back for this one.

yes ut was true that you did have a crush on the bard but you didn't want to cuddle him if he would be uncomfortable with it, so very hesitantly and awkwardly you asked 'would you mind if i.. uh.. cuddle you for the rest of the game'

venti stared at you in disbelief, making you feel slightly more embarrassed - now more concerned he was about to reject you. he was completely caught of guard and he felt himself practically freeze but he knew you, and everyone else, were waiting for an answer. and as a matter of fact, he wasn't opposed to it and was rather flattered that someone such as yourself had a crush on him.

the embarrassment was practically eating you up and you were about to stand back up and go back to your seat, and try to forget this happened, but venti smiled.

'i wouldn't mind at all'

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[fanaticsnail]

Snail,,,,,

It's been a low swing so I haven't been interacting as much but know that I love you and you bring joy everytime you appear on my dash

I did get a creative burst recently so have some domestic / acts of love headcanons for *spins wheel* Dracula Mihawk!

Receiving:

- shaving his beard

- the greatest swordsman knows how to wield blades but let's you do it anyway

- he likes the intimacy and trust of allowing you to hold a blade so close to his throat

- he also thinks you're hot when you hold blades, something he has sculpted himself to be the master of

- some kind of almost submission where he gets aroused by being a master swordsman, having spent his whole life sculpting his body to wield blades with the utmost pinnacle of precision and power, and sitting beneath you as he lets you (less skilled) wield a blade against him. Especially as he watches you improve; steadier, more confident and precise as time passes. But he would dare admit an arousal he can't put a name to or explain

- he gets to stare at your concentrated face without being too weird/overt. (Usually it's "Mihawk what do you think of these earrings?" 👁️ 👁️)

Giving:

- buying you souvenirs from his travels

- he personally doesn't like knick knacks or novelties, but he likes to let you know he's thinking of you in every moment

- and it's a way to keep you in his thoughts, bringing you with him for his sake and yours on his trying journeys

- oh the cross guild meeting gave him a preemptive hangover? At least he gets to spend an hour picking something out for his darling

- even if you don't like touristy things, he takes notice of what it is you do like and gets you that (e.g, perfume, jewellery, foods)

- the act of knowing you is another one of his love languages

Reciprocated:

- pouring eachothers wine/drink

- it's literally the same amount of effort for him to pour yours and you to pour his as it would be to do it yourselves, perhaps even more

- but he just loves it

- it's the small act of service without the pressure of grandeur that he revels in. He would level ships if you asked. You would freeze hell over so he didn't sweat in his jacket when he went down there. But you both don't have to go to those lengths to appreciate each other and know/feel appreciated

- coordinating outfits

- he gets to show you off while still staking a claim

- ties into bringing you things he thinks you'll like, he gets to show off how well he knows his partner by getting them something tailor-made with the right measurements and style

OH MY GOSH ITS SNAIL!!! HI!!!

Oh, I missed you so, so much. I am glad you're back, my love.

That image of Mihawk's yellow eyes lovingly falling half-lidded as he submits to the handle of his lover's blade has me in a choke hold. I am obsessed with this. Beautiful analysis of shared love languages. You're amazing, and you always come through when I need you, Snail.

Literally today, my sister was bullying me into the final chapter of Sapsorrow and I needed a little shove more to get me there. I will be looking at this whimsically while I fixate on it 🖤.

Thank you for sharing your creative burst with me 🖤🖤