#and she would take that name in such stride and pride because it really is the only thing her mother ever gave her.

[celabi]

Winky face ☆彡 1.8k

This is part of my scummy men thing, but idk when I’ll post that so I’ll just post this early 🤷‍♀️ that probably would have been out if I didn’t get carried away with this 👽 they were supposed to be like 200 words each MAX 🤡

Heizou is not ashamed to try and exploit his high rank in the 'important person' list to try and get what he wants— and being a member of the student council team means that he can get away with almost just about anything. He grins to himself, and raises up his fist to knock on the door. His fingers are twitching in excitement, and the wait for approval is almost antagonising to him, to say the least. So when he's granted access by the professor to enter with a loud 'Come in!', he nearly skips in his step to rush open the door, and walk inside. Many curious eyes turn to him, but he likes the attention, so he doesn't stop, and excitedly strides over to the teachers desk. "Hello ma'am! I'm afraid [name] will need to miss out on this lecture... she's needed in the council office. As soon as possible, preferably." A lie, but of course, nobody here needs to know that. He turns his head, and hardly needs to scan around the room because it's almost instant that his mischievous eyes lock onto your tired ones. He winks, and uses his finger to motion you to come over when the professor agrees to his request with no questions asked, just what he wanted.

When you sigh in defeat, and get up from your seat and start to gather all of your belongings, he just stands there and stares, stares at your delicate hands as they move around to grab your things, stares at your soft legs when you bend down to pick up that eraser you just accidentally dropped, stares at your pretty little face when you walk over to the door and reach for the handle— he draws a deep breath, bids your teacher and class goodbye with a careless looking wave, and quickly jogs over to follow you. "What's the rush?" You're already half way down the hallway when he turns around after shutting the door, so he hurries up on his feet to catch up, only slowing down when he's finally matched your pace. "We have all the time in the world right now." He happily grins, reaches for your book bag before you can detest, and hoists it over his shoulder.

"You might, but I have stuff to do...like trying to continue my education and progress in life." You don't bother to turn your head when his hand finds place on the lower part of your back, but you do however, start to speed up your steps when he slowly begins to lower it down and closer to your butt. Heizou ever so slightly pouts in disappointment when his advancement is brushed off by you so easily, but he quickly covers it up with his usual cheeky grin, and doesn't bother to comment on his loss. You turn the corner, and he takes the chance to step try and get close— but it's either that you had failed to notice that how his body is closer to yours then it probably should have been, or that you just didn't care, he's just happy it's working. "Ouch, like an arrow straight through my poor little heart." He clutches his shirt to add onto his playful act, and he swears that if he squints his eyelids hard enough, he can see a ghost of a smile on your soft looking lips. 'Got her...'

"So..." you clear your throat, and quickly gaze at him from the corner of your eyes, which he is already staring back at. "Where are we really going?" You ask, and Heizou blinks, before tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy— and if he wasn't already so high up in his pride, you almost want to call him cute. "Oh? Whatever do you mean, my dear?" He places a finger on his chin and taps it in thought, and can almost feel himself swooning when you look away and playfully roll your eyes at him.

"Well... if i am correct, which i know that i most certainly am, the councillors office is—" you abruptly stop walking, and he does too, watching with an amused smirk as you turn around and point your index finger in the direction that you had both just walked through. "—that way, meaning we are going the completely wrong way— and considering that you haven't said a single thing about that..." you trail off, and he would applaud you for your observation skills, if not for his hands gripping onto the hem of his shirt out of excitement. 'A women after my own heart... how sexy.' He tries to quell the fast beating of his chest but good god, you really were just perfect, a perfect women, everything that he's ever needed and more... he's really not sure how much longer of a wait he can endure before it finally gets too much for him to handle. He can already feel his patience running thin with each tick of the clock it's that antagonising. He gulps, and tried to rid of the lump that formed in his throat. "...you perhaps have some... ulterior motives?" you finish off, and he hums in delight.

"Ah, like always, you're right on the money! That's why i like you so much." He snaps his fingers, and nods to himself, the vibrant maroon strands of his hair fall down over his eyes, which he quickly dismisses with his hand. "Oh! And would you look at that, it seems we have already reached our destination." His chromatic eyes, full of nothing but mischief, look somewhat unsettling as they almost bore into your own, and makes you debate with yourself wether you should really turn around to where he's pointing or not. But of course, it's like Heizou can sense your hesitation, so he ushers you to do so with the offer of that charming smile. He knows he's got you, as he watches as you sigh in defeat, and give in. It's a storage closet, one with an old looking sign that says 'Authorised personal only' plastered right on the door no less. You blink cautiously, and quickly turn around to question his motives, but he's quicker, and is already reaching for the handle and pushing open the door, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in with him. "Hey—!"

It kind of smells, probably from everything crowding the room and stopping the vents from allowing clean air to pass through, it's also very dusty, like it hasn't had a proper clean in maybe years— and over the sounds of you hacking away at your lungs after you accidentally inhaled some of the dust particles that spread around from your sudden movements, you can faintly hear how the creaky door closes shut behind you, fantastic, now it's dark too. It's quiet for a moment, too quiet that you wonder if Heizou is still even here with you— but as you're about to call out for him to confirm, something is suddenly grabbing ahold of your waist, and pulling in. You squeal in surprise, but that quickly turns into a grunt when your back comes in contact with something firm. "It's pitch black in here... we should stay close together." His tone of voice... your body trembles as little shivers crawl up your spine, it's so... unnerving, in a way. He follows his own advice of being close, and presses his chest more firmly against you— the buttons to his shirt almost dig into your skin, but right now, being too nervous to say anything, you just bear the slight discomfort it brings you. His hands, even though small and slim, make you feel almost tiny in his grasp as they wander over the flesh of your hips and around your body— until his arms are caging you in tightly, so tight that to even think about trying to slither out is almost an embarrassing thought. Because to put it simply— he has you trapped.

"Heizou... stop playing around already. Did you really pull me out of class to just mess with me? Let me go so i can do something productive with my time." It sounds mean, but you're on edge, and he knows that— probably by the slight quiver in your voice, one which you're not sure formed from either the tense and eerie atmosphere that has suddenly clouded over the room— or the way Heizou's warm breath skims over the skin of your neck from just how close he is. Either way, goosebumps start to arise on your arms and legs. "S-seriously... I have to study. Exams are coming up soon and— and I can't afford to be wasting my time right now..." he doesn't respond, but the way the side of his head drops onto your tense shoulder is almost a wordless answer enough. You listen anxiously as he takes in a drawn breath, and if it weren't for your current situation— you'd probably crack a joke about how it seems like he's sniffing you because of the way his nose presses up against your skin.

"...are you aware of just how aromatic you smell?" Ah... so he was sniffing you. You shift around uncomfortably at the thought, but he keeps you in place. His chest is starting to rise and fall faster then it probably should be, but so is yours— and you're one hundred and ten percent sure that he can hear the pulsating beat of your heart increasing with each passing second from the place which he stands (which is not very far away, whatsoever). Your aroma is so sweet, he thinks, and shamelessly stuffs his nose back into your neck, where he's able to breathe in your scent again at a more close up level. So sweet that, he swears his hips are moving on their own, as they softly jerk forward and grind against your ass. So sweet that he blames the little moans he lets fall past his lips, on you, and your intoxicating smell, that has his hands running down your stomach and towards your crotch out of his control. Really, he can't help it... honest. You can feel how his cock starts to erect in his pants, and press up against you— making you whine in embarrassment. "Ah— come on, Heizou, s-seriously. I'm telling you, you need to let me go before someone hears us..."

"Well, my—" he grunts, and teasingly trails his hand down further, until his fingers are met with the elastic band on your pants, which he wastes no time slipping past and gliding his hand lower, where he finally, after what felt like decades, acquires what he has been looking forward to this entire time... your pussy. "—my intuition is telling me that... you're all i'll ever need, baby." You had him waiting for so long... surely you wouldn't mind if he just, pushed aside your panties and... took what he wanted? Right?

[dododrawsstuff]

Smile (Chev/ Mel)

YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT AJSHAHSHSH @judejazza WORTE THIS AMAZING FIC FOR ME!! LOVE IT SO MUCH, I HAVE NOW WORDS TO THANK YOU 😭😭

Mel are characterized beautifully and I love to see some jelly Chev ajshahshshsj my soul craves for it

The way Mel still feels inadequate and insecure in the Ikepri world, how she believes she doesn't deserve Chev, her adorable interaction with Yves too. And Chev not really understanding he is jealous, but craving being near her, touching her- AJSHSHSHSJ

I really can't thank you enough, I love it from the bottom of my heart

The fic is under the cut! I don't think there are any CW, because it's fluff

It was not strange for there to be the scents and sounds of baking coming from the kitchen in the palace.

Admittedly, since both Emma and Clavis had left it was far quieter more often — something that Yves Kloss greatly appreciated. Less interference from that hooligan, less pranks left for him to trip up on — he would never admit he missed his brother, he would never put a name to that feeling that something was missing-

So when he approached the kitchen to find it in use he found himself almost excited at the idea that they could be visiting. It was only when he heard the almost furious, quick muttering in a familiar foreign language that he realised it was not at all who he’d assumed to be inside. Gently cracking the door open, Yves peered at Melinda, hands on her hips as she almost glared at the recipe book in front of her.

“What the-”

Instantly at the sound of his voice, Melinda looked up, her eyes locking with his and both of their expressions mimicking each other. Eyes wide, jaw slack and mouth parted, both shock and horror of being caught, both with cheeks growing rosier as their eye contact continued. Clearing his throat, Yves stepped in hesitantly; one step, two step— then larger strides until he was at her side, his curiousness at what she was up to winning out.

“I—” Melinda paused, eyes focused on the book. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Yves, it was just she’d never really spent time with him like this, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to say or do and— well, to be entirely honest, she was more consumed with the thoughts of resuming what she was doing. “This recipe is hard,” she mumbled.

“Yeah,” Yves agreed, eyes darting to hers. No— he gulped quickly— seeing her eyes blink a few times, seeing her desperately trying not to be too upset, the way her hands shook a little and the deep breaths she was taking — he understood it all. Trying desperately to be gentler with his words than normal, he put his finger into the bowl of batter before sticking it into his mouth. “Oh, it’s not unsavable!”

“R-really?” she asked, peering up at him, her eyes wide with an innocence that made him smile at her.

Chest puffed out in pride, Yves winked and quickly grabbed fresh ingredients. “This is nothing the great Yves Kloss, baker extraordinaire can’t fix! I’ll teach you how to make them, we can learn together.” Pausing, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries with her, he dropped his eyes to the counter. “They’re for Chevalier… right?”

“I… yes.”

“I didn’t know he liked this.”

“I don’t know if he does,” she admitted quietly, holding her hands in front of her and fiddling with them. “I just wanted… to try something new to show him how much I love him.”

Yves smiled, deciding not to point out how her voice squeaked at the end of her sentence, or the rather silly smile that spread over her lips as she spoke about it — it always shocked him how such a sweet girl could be with Chevalier, but when he’d seen them together… it always felt right in a way he couldn’t quite describe. It unsettled him in some ways, not that their union was unnatural, but it was more as if his brother had been replaced right under his nose… or, more likely, he had just never known him at all. Not properly.

“Well, if there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s that we can make these perfectly up to his exacting standards!”

MEANWHILE….

Paperwork after paperwork finding it’s way onto Chevalier’s desk was normal.

He worked in his usual methodical method, a well oiled machine that never faltered, barely needing any time at all to deal with the majority of them, not even pausing when the Clown or Glasses brought him issues — it was all trivial really.

It’s only when he let’s out a small sigh and he looks up that he stops working, trying to understand exactly what’s bothering him. It had been there all morning, building and building until he could no longer ignore it. Emotions are complicated things — things he thought he had understood enough to manipulate in people before her, but now? Now?

Now Chevalier finds normal, average emotions he would never have tied to another person and most certainly not to love always bubbling up in him, and becoming things he can’t ignore. This is one of them — her absence is bothering him. She’d be here by now, she’d talk to him — there’s no sound of her voice, no occasional outburst in Portuguese — her scent is missing, and the warmth she always leaves behind with her… that’s gone too.

He knows what she’s up to — he’d seen the recipe book in her hands, and she’s fairly predictable in some ways. He knows she feels inadequate, he catches the times she’s gazing at him with amazement because she can’t believe he’s with her when in reality he truly feels it should be the other way. His hands have taken many lives and yet here she is, nuzzling against his hands as if the stain of blood is something to be adored rather than abhorred.

So, sometimes, in an attempt to make herself feel more deserving of him (which he thinks is rather pointless since he already believes her to be the only one deserving of his time and attention), Melinda sometimes does things like this. Ways to improve herself in ways he really doesn’t think has to do anything with anything — pointless things, but all he wants is to see her smile so he allows her to do it.

But now he misses her — maybe it’s for his sake, maybe she’s baking him something — but he wants her there. He wants her to distract him from her work with some absolutely pointless, mundane tale about the maids as she tried to piece together some morning panic and guess what had caused it while he already knew — but it’s just silent and it’s loud.

Fine. If she was still busy and wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to her. It’s an easy problem to fix — it’s not as if he’s behind on work. It’s irresponsible and illogical, he will see her later, hells he only saw her a few hours ago, but it’s not enough, his craving for her is too much and—

Sighing to himself at the pointlessness of this whole thing, he heads towards the kitchen. He can hear the distinct sound of her laughter and his heart accelerates in a way he’s still not quite familiar with — and then comes another feeling. One he’s not used to, one that gets stronger when he gets a glimpse of them through the door.

Melinda and Yves both laughing, somehow covered in flour he assumes, and—

She is his.

He knows that.

She’s barely spent time with the show-off.

He knows that, too.

So why does he desperately want to burst in and pull them apart, sweep her into his arms, and consume everything about her?

More and more pointless, he thinks, yet Chevalier remains frozen as he watches them, swallowing down the new complex emotions building in his chest. It’s good she’s getting on with him — she needs more friends.

No, she doesn’t, he thinks again, gripping his fist tightly without realising it. She only needs him—

Now that is selfish… isn’t it?

He’s not sure.

In fact he’s so confused at how he feels both disgusted and justified at his own thoughts and feelings that he barely even notices when he wanders away from the kitchen and back to his quiet, cold, empty office.

There’s nothing there with them — when she’s comfortable with people she laughs a lot, she makes them laugh in return. Her laughter is not his possession, it is not for him only as much as he wishes it could be — and well… she probably asked Yves for help for his own sake, she’s there spending her time thinking of him and he still feels like this over her—

Love is dangerous and confusing, and despite it all Chevalier wishes is for the day to pass quicker so he can keep her to himself sooner.

His wish barely comes true. By the time he hears a clock chime his arm is stiff from the position it’s been in and the door to his office has remained firmly closed. Outside the sky is turning a dusty pink. There’s no sign of her.

Chevalier briefly wonders if Melinda has forgotten him, but he scoffs at that absolutely pointless and baseless thought and pushes it aside. He stands with a grace almost undeserving of him, his feet heavy on the floor as he leaves, not in the mood for overtime work. His room is what he seeks — a sanctuary that smells like her, bed sheets that contain memories of her pressed against his chest bathed in the morning light and oh so beautiful.

Of course she is there when he pushes the door open.

Melinda turns instantly when she hears him enter, her eyes wide as if she’s a cat that’s been caught stealing cream, but it barely takes moments before her radiant smile blossoms over her face and her feet carry her to him. She’d missed him too—

He can’t explain the relief he feels to have her in his arms, or the way he holds her tightly and sits at the display of small baked treats she’d been placing down, and then pulls her into his lap. Melinda wriggles slightly, not in any attempt to escape, but more to find a comfy spot to nuzzle back against him — this brings a smirk to his lips. “You spent all day with another man,” he grumbles, his voice deeper and huskier than he’d intended as he buries his nose into her neck. “You don’t smell like me.”

“I-I’m sor-”

In no mood, or need, for an apology, Chevalier grabs one of the small cakes and quickly brings it to her lips where she obediently and instantly chomps down. Contented noises blossom from her and he chuckles, watching as she hesitantly licks some of the crumbs from his fingers.

“You’ll be mine for the entire night, and all of tomorrow, got it?”

Melinda’s cheeks heat up as Chevalier nuzzles against her almost like a cat that’s not seen its owner in days and she finds herself instantly relaxing. She’d missed him all day, she’d missed his warmth and his scent and the way he held her as if he was so very afraid she’d go somewhere he couldn’t see.

“Is it good?” she asks, distracting herself from her thoughts by lifting one of the tiny cakes to his lips over her shoulder. She doesn’t expect an answer from him — Chevalier is forever sparring with his praise, but it’s enough that he eats the whole thing, mimicking her actions and licking the crumbs from her hands, placing small kisses on her finger tips in an act so gentle and so tender she’s almost positive her heart is about to leap out of her throat.

“It’s good,” Chevalier says at length, and her heart practically stops, eyes wide as she repeats his compliment to memory. Then that smile he adore so much slowly spreads across her face, her eyes crinkling into pure joy and her cheeks high and rosy as her whole face tries to transform to contain the amount of happiness she’s displaying. Chevalier pushes his finger against her round cheek and a small huff of laughter leaves his lips.

Yeah, he’s sure he’s content as long as he can make her smile like that every day of his life. It’s illogical, absolutely preposterous and yet it’s so important to him that he’s recently found himself thinking of all the different ways he can light her up like this.

Maybe she’d been laughing with his brother earlier, but—

This was his smile, and no one could take that from him. He’d never let them.

[helaelaemond]

50 Helaemond Kisses

day 13 - discreetely

Helaena and Aemond share some words in the training yard on the day of the Driftmark question. Aemond lashes out a little on her, but the anger does not last long.

Words: 934

"Be calm."

Aemond stretches his arms in front of him and tilts his head from side to side. "I am calm."

She smiles faintly, and takes his hand. "Aemond.'

He pulls his touch out of hers and bounces on his toes before crossing the yard to the table where weapons are laid out for his pleasure. The twin war hammers take his interest today, and he picks them up and twirls them to loosen his wrists. At a safe distance, Helaena watches him. There is a tightness in his jaw, malice in his eye, tension in his brow. Last night, he had let her help melt it all away, but with the sun came the anger. The worry.

As quickly as he had picked the weapons, he discards them. He presses his hands on the table and bends over and lets out a deep sigh. She comes to his side and rests a hand between his shoulders. "It's alright."

"Don't."

"Aemond."

He glances at her. "Don't."

Her expression is soft. "There is nothing to worry about, of that, I am sure."

"You have no way of knowing," he answered sharply, quietly. There is anger in him. He pulls away from her.

Across the yard, Ser Criston watches them as he waits for his squire to remove his armour. Helaena notices his keen eyes, and it makes her wince. He sees much and more.

But that does not stop her from going to her brother. He has turned his attention to the wall of shields. Some with dragons, some with towers, some dotted in flames, some utterly plain. It is a plain one that he pulls onto his arm and swings around experimentally to loosen his shoulder. Her heart aches to see the pain he is in, the way he buries it under anger because anger is easier to handle. For him, at least. When he throws the shield off in frustration, she is at his side again.

"Aemond, please."

The softness in her voice makes him still his movements, and he finally looks at her, really looks at her. "What is it?"

"It has been a long time since we saw them. There is nothing to fear."

In her bed last night, they had talked long into the darkness about everything. It took some coaxing, but the words had finally come to him and it was only Helaena that heard them. His worries. His concerns. The hatred for Rhaenyra's sons, for Rhaenyra, for their father. How he had been a boy, just a boy, and they had done that to him and no one had protected him or loved him or-

She loved him until the dawn. They're both tired now, of course, but it is worth it. Still. Much of the peace has melted like mist.

"I do not fear them," he replied stiffly.

"You fear the pain they caused."

"Helaena-"

"Don't call me that." He doesn't call her that. He calls her sister. He calls her Lae. Only does he use her proper name when he wants to put distance between them. It's cruel, really.

"'Tis but your name."

"Not to you." She meets his fierce gaze without pride, without hesitation.

Silence hangs between them. His jaw is tight, his violet eye aflame. He towers over her, and his lip twitches as if he's going to say something. But nothing coems.

"Please," she murmurs after the tension can last no longer. "Be calm today. Do not let anger rule you."

"What would you have rule me?" Aemond replies, irritation laced in his voice. "Love?"

The venom in his voice makes her turn on her heel and stride across the yard. He doesn't want to listen to her, he doesn't care for her steadiness now, the willing ear he lent last night is gone and-

"Sister, wait!" In a shadowy alcove, Aemond catches up with her and grasps her wrist to make her stop. She tries to pull away, but he is stronger than her. "Forgive me. That was unkind."

Helaena looks up at him sadly. "It was."

"Forgive me." He glances around. They are hidden; no one will see them. And so he raises his hand to her cheek and brushes his knuckles over her soft skin. "You speak the truth, I think."

"Aemond..."

"I will do my best," he promises quietly. "For you."

She shakes her head. "For yourself."

Leaning down, Aemond presses his forehead against Helaena's. "No. For you."

She sighs, and opens her mouth to protest, but his kiss silences her. Tender lips capture hers, and calloused fingers hold her jaw. It's sweet and gentle and brief.

Too brief. Always too brief.

"I will be good." He smiles, and bumps their noses together. "I swear."

"Aemond."

"Lae. I'm sorry. I will make you proud today."

The sound of footsteps interrupts them, and they break apart just in time for Cole to appear around the edge of the alcove. "Prince. Princess." He nods his head to them, and observes the careful distance between them. They are the mirror of each other - straight spines, hands behind their backs, cheeks flushed red.

"Cole." Hardness has returned to Aemond's voice.

"Are you ready to train, my prince?"

Aemond nods, and with a final glance to his sister, he strides back to the yard.

Before Cole can follow him, Helaena touches his arm. "Ser Criston. I... he..."

The knight offers her a rare and soft smile. "I know, princess."

There aren't the right words. Protect him. Keep him safe. Steady his hand. "Please..."

No words are needed. He understands. He always has. "I will."

[izzythehutt]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I really love In the Black and Black Mask! I adore your take on the Black family because to me it makes so much more sense than the usual Walburga and Orion casually Crucio-ing Sirius at every mistake take. I really enjoy seeing how history tends to repeat itself in terms of familial relationships, because it's something I see often on families. Also most of their relationships with one another are complicated, and never clear cut.

I loved the most recent chapter, it was honestly hilarious. Ted is absolutely the hero of this chapter, he's the only sane man there and I love how he takes the Blacks being well... The Blacks, in stride. Also Dora just latching onto Cygnus was wonderful and him getting offended when Dora said "but I thought you didn't like us?" was so funny. Seeing Walburga break down was so painful, I think in part because she always appears as strong. Sirius calling her Mama and then hugging her was so wholesome. Also, his 'Reason You Suck' speech to Arcturus had me gasping with both awe and horror in real life because all of these characters are so alive they feel like actual people. Your dialogues are absolutely brilliant, and so much of their personalities shine through from how they speak and react to things.

Also I absolutely love Colette, she's definitely someone who keeps Sirius grounded. Her touching his wrist and telling him to speak to James was so intimate, it felt much more intimate than a spicy smut things or things like that. It reminds me of Pride and Prejudice where there's not actually much PDA going on, but it's infinitely more romantic to me because you can feel the affection between these two people. Also, Colette just shamelessly kissing Sirius in front of everyone (including her own parents!) and calling him darling got me grinning.

I'm excited to see how her parents will react (her mother in particular), because Fabienne (I'm sorry I can't remember her mother's name) strikes me as not having much hope for Colette as long as she marries a respectable pure-blood wizard because she set her sights on Rabastan who is a second son, thus unlikely to inherit, instead of someone like Evan Rosier who is already the head of the family. But then Colette went and snagged the heir to one of the most powerful families in Britain.

I'm sorry for the long comments. Kudos <3

This is a very sweet comment! Thank you!

To be compared with Austen is so flattering, because tbh she is a major inspiration to me in general as a writer and storyteller and in particular for this story. I was re-reading a section of the story and realized that I had flat out stolen phrases from Austen/Austen adaptations (1995 P&P in particular.) Sorry, Jane!

Sirius's rant to Arcturus was peak Reasons You Suck speech, good use of the trope.

I'm glad you enjoy my interpretation, I find it far more interesting (and frankly, fun) than the popular fanon portrayals of over the top abuse and crucio-ing etc.

It's become a bit of a sticking point for me, because I've been accused directly/publicly of putting the blame for the dysfunctional family relationships on Sirius/white-washing abuse more than once. Which I resent, a bit—I don't think I've ever presented the Black parents as healthy or good (though they are entertaining in their problematic manipulativeness at times and I can't deny that I do occasionally play that for laughs.) What I've tried to show (with mixed success, clearly) is that Sirius's coping mechanisms are the product of their bad parenting and don't actually make him a happy/healthy person because he still loves his family, in spite of them being objectively awful. Which I think is probably relatable to many humans on the planet? There's a desire for a relationship with our parents.

As it's a version of characters who never appeared in canon, I would call my softening of them "alternative character interpretation", though I will maintain until the end of time that there's nothing in BSDU characterization directly contradicted by canon.

[drconstellation]

On Pride and Prejudice and S3 parallels to watch for

(*no Nazi zombies included)

I don't think it's the second "marriage proposal" that is going to matter in S3. That's just the icing on the cake. What's really going to break your heart to pieces will be the parallel to the lake scene encounter at Pemberley Estate. That comes before the quiet, gentle, second suggestion of "lets make a team of the two of us" again.

I keep seeing people write "oh, aziracrow are going to throw themselves together! Oh, its going to be violent! And frenzied! They wont be able to hold back!" Ah, no. I respectfully disagree. I see it possibly playing out very differently.

Recently we had this observation:

Let this old Gen X-er take you back nearly 30 years to 1995, when the BBC production of Pride and Prejudice pictured above came out (and I believe this is the version Lord Gaiman has recommended you watch - for good reason! But I may be biased here...) Colin Firth played Mr Darcy, and I dare anyone to name anyone else in the production off the top of their heads, because Firth's Darcy at the time was considered just *sigh.* The lake scene was so famous in its day it became became a meme before memes were a thing, in a time when we still had VHS video tapes and the internet didn't exist (gasp!)

We must set the scene.

Elizabeth has come the Lake Country with her aunt and uncle on a bit of a holiday, and they have called in on Mr Darcy's home, Pemberley Estate, to have a sticky-beak (as you do, apparently, in those days). He's not home, not expected until the next day, but the housekeeper is happy to show the visitors around the mansion, filled with amazing furniture and paintings and nick-knacks that all good rich Georgian families should have. The aunt and uncle ooh and ahh appreciatively and ask questions, and the housekeeper paints a glowing picture of how kind and generous her master is. Hmmph, thinks Lizzy, that's not the Mr Darcy I thought I knew.

Meanwhile, galloping across the fields on his lovely steed, comes Mr Darcy, a day early. And the visiting party slowly make their way out into the gardens. (cue the building tension...)

Darcy decides he is hot after the long ride, and strips down and goes for a swim in a lake (or pond, or duck!pond - whatever, its wet) to cool off (ha! I'm surprise that puddle didn't evaporate into steam as soon as he hit it) while Lizzy continues to wander and ponder what she is learning about him...

And as Darcy strides blithely across his demesne, practically nekkid from the waist up in his wet see-through shirt - he runs into the object of his desires.

This is their Vavoom! moment. (Well, maybe better Austen scholars than me would disagree, but for the purposes of this post, I declare it is.)

The point is...

The point I'm trying to make is this is going to be the important part of P&P in S3 of GO. Our two love birds have sprung each other unawares, and one of them in particular is in a vulnerable situation. They are vulnerable physically, with their damp, tousled hair (*sigh*) and, as aforementioned, is not appropriately dressed to the expected presentation for polite company at the time (*ahem* wet see-through-linen-shirt-that-doesn't-leave-much-to the-imagination *ahem*) so is also somewhat emotionally vulnerable. And the other is witnessing them in this vulnerable situation. The one they least wanted to see them like that. And neither of them can unsee it.

After the shock, Darcy struggles to pull his dignity back together and make some awkward small talk, before continuing onto the house to rapidly make himself socially presentable again and become the perfect host for the rest of the visit. And, well...things went rather splendidly after that, in short.

See, that's what I mean. The second proposal doesn't matter. Its the after thought. It just tidies up the loose ends. Ices the cake. Makes us feel all warm and gooey, like we're hugging a hot chocolate topped with little marshmallows in our cold hands. Its the equivalent "lake scene" that is going to slowly creep up on you like a fist around your heart, then squeeze when you least expect it, and leave you gasping with its rawness.

Now I'm not going to declare which of Aziracrow was representing Darcy, and which was Elizabeth. Crowley gave the better proposal for being a team of two, but Aziraphale gave the societal put down to Crowley. They kind of split the parallel proposal between themselves.

Hmm, so what kind of "lake scene" could we see in S3? Which of the two would reveal their vulnerable side? Who has the large domain where the other comes a visiting? Who learns something unexpected about the other? Who goes chasing a villain to redeem themselves in the other's eyes? Don't know. Not even even going to guess at this point. But I am going to go and do my homework so I'm ready when the time comes.

We should acknowledge that the first proposal just wasn't going to work, that they had to go their separate ways and grow, just as Lizzy and Darcy did. Smashing them back together like Blackbeard playing with his cake toppers, to cross fandoms, is just...stupid. You can't keep making the same mistakes. It wont work. Not in the long run. And these are immortal beings, (lord, I want to write a whole post on immortality, but not here, right now) the long run is to long to contemplate.

I'm saying wait and see - but be watchful. You might be caught out where you least expect it.

[carnalapples]

7 snippets, 7 mutuals

thank you @rowanisawriter for the tag!! i'll tag @theluckywizard and anyone else who wants to share :) lots of dialogue this time around lol:

bodyguard au (cullen/f!trevelyan)

“You’re jealous,” she laughs again, because she’s feeling this insane urge to wind him up. Like maybe it’ll lead to something. Around them, a dozen Cullens purse their lips in disapproval. “They don’t know what you can really do,” he murmurs. “And does that frighten you?” He blinks, something heavy swirling in his eyes and in the air between them. When it becomes obvious he won’t say anything, the dozen versions of her stride away from the dozen versions of him.  “We have an early morning, Enchanter,” he calls out behind her. She wonders what he’s trying to remind himself of with that.

2. a heart that laughter has made sweet (cullen/f!trevelyan)

It’s strange to see Cullen out of uniform. He wears light traveling armor, his wife similarly clad. It’s strange to see Cullen at all, really. He had not realized it had been that long.  “You just missed Hawke,” he says. “Oh,” Cullen replies after a moment, slightly breathless. Rylen snorts at his visible relief. He nods at the woman next to him, offering a little salute.  “Hello,” she says. She exhales and raises a hand to her brow. In a moment, Cullen moves to take the coat from her shoulders. Again, he notes with a hint of amusement, he had not realized it had been that long. 

3. cut down at the garden's gate (hawke/sebastian)

“I wish I could have known you then,” There’s a sharp edge to it, a dangerous current.  “It couldn’t have gone anywhere good. You’re better off knowing me now." “And you would have taken a bride.” She shifts the topic so suddenly, Hawke. True to her skills on the battlefield, her words aim to disorient and to dazzle.  “I am a younger son. It would not have mattered who I took to wed, as long as they were of standing.” And the truth is, he could never have had someone like Hawke, never would have deserved them.  “I don’t know much about being noble,” she says, slightly more subdued.  “You are noble in the truest sense of the word.” And he leaves before he can act on anything he thought he left behind. 

4. ordinary world (miranda & shepard, background shenko)

That’s not exactly accurate.  She’s never stopped thinking of Kaidan, or of her crew. He hovers at the edges of her mind like a ghost. Like a specter, true to his name. But it’s the first time she lets herself dream beyond the snatches that kept her alive through the rubble, through all of the surgeries. The first rational thought: what would he think? Ashley should have lived. She immediately feels guilty for the thought. That Ashley should have lived instead of strong, sweet Kaidan, whom she’s killed a hundred times in her mind. Vaporized by a reaper beam slicing through the Normandy, skull crushed in the impact of a crash landing, shredded by the claws of a husk. She’s almost jealous. If there’s one thing she can’t seem to do right, it’s die.

5. negative space (pacific rim, mako/raleigh, i really want to finish this soon!)

It was the abruptness of it, really. The violence of his mind ripped from hers, an indescribable sense of loss. Like losing half of herself. No—the truth of it, as the doctor insists. She had been more than herself, and she suddenly had to return to normalcy. To singularity. To loneliness. She was shaking on that raft, shaking Raleigh, trying to work her way back into his mind, and past the relief of him opening his eyes, all that was left was bitter disappointment.

6. dead winter in the forgotten land (i call this my amell/alistair messy divorce fic)

The paper is the softest thing she’s felt in years. She wants to cry a little when she touches it, unused to comfort. The Inquisitor writes hesitantly, like perhaps she is awed. It makes Amell a little prideful and a little endeared towards her. She means to let it be, but there is something about this letter: how the envelope is covered in dirt from all corners of Thedas while the paper is untouched by any hands but the Inquisitor’s, how the handwriting slants to the right like any good Circle mage’s does, how the ink pools at the end of every stroke like the words were thought over and over. She begins to write back. I wish to see my king again, she writes, the truest thing on the page.

7. long distance (jab tak hai jaan, akira/samar)

He says he loves his country, but that’s not really why he’s here, taking apart bombs in the dead of night while their fingers go numb. The other day it was snowing, and something detonated, and he couldn’t tell between the insulation fluff and the flakes pouring down, and he was sliced through with something sharp, the sensation of having erred grievously.  There’s a woman in London who loves him. Why the hell is he here? He ignores it. He tries his best to ignore it. He goes home, and his boss calls. More people are enlisting. He’s had an impact, and it begins to eat at him. It has been eating at him. He was supposed to be a singer. He was supposed to be too soft for this life. “You would be a horrible soldier,” he says to Akira on the phone the next morning. “When have I ever wanted that?” There’s a rustling that feels like it’s inside him. She must be adjusting her coat. That bright one with the fur. “You don’t listen. You’re very reckless. And your decision-making—“ “I didn’t ask for that, either,” she snaps, and the muffled rush that undercuts her words of traffic makes him frown. “Be careful,” he can’t help but say. A pause—and then she scoffs, but there’s a softness to it, something he would like to think of as fond.

[athenaseden]

its like an hour late but i had things i really wanted to add. this is my gift exchange for @roobroker . please enjoy. ( @abbottgiftexchange ) i hope this formats right ....

_________

Janine has an appointment after school and has asked if Barbara could pick her son up and watch them for an hour or two. Barbara had agreed with ease having missed Caleb since seeing him a month ago. As soon as bus duty was over, the woman kissed Melissa a quick goodbye and reminded her to keep her updated on the parent teacher conference. Barbara knew exactly what daycare Janine put Caleb in, aside from having picked him up before she was the one who suggested it in the first place. The trip was a little more than 10 minutes due to afterschool traffic and while she hated driving into school traffic, it was worth it to see Caleb. Making sure to grab her ID after arriving, she made her way in the front door. In the front office sits a few kids, maybe two years old. A gentleman sets one of them down on a playing mat after seeing her, “Afternoon, who are you here for?”

Barbara smiles at him, “Caleb Teagues, please.” He nods and repeats the name into a walkie, “Send Caleb Teagues to the front for pick up.” Waiting for a reply before he turns back to her, “Don’t forget to sign him out when he arrives.” He then goes back to the play mat to clean up. Barbara steps away from the door and waits leaning her back on the wall. She can hear him coming by the running feet approaching and the “Auntie! Auntie!” His mother clearly told him who was picking him up today. When he makes it to the doorway he stops and just yells, “Auntie!” again. 

“Hey, baby.” She calls back and he is back in motion again. Only barely not slamming into her knees, still she grabs the wall to keep herself up. He doesn’t let go immediately and her heart swells a little because of it. She gets to see Caleb more often than her grandkids and being with her makes her miss them every so often. He finally lets go and she leans down to squeeze his shoulder, “Let’s get to the car first, then you can tell Auntie everything okay?” He nods showing his missing teeth with joy. Quickly as she can, she signs him out and checks her phone. The parents for the conference tonight arrived just after she left, Melissa would be done with her meeting much quicker than either expected. 

Finally ready to leave the building she extends her hand for the little Teagues to take and pushes open the door. As she walks, she can feel his little skips in his stride. “Your Auntie Melissa bought you ice cream last night.” Barbara waits for the incoming squeal before she continues. “We have to go pick her up first.” He nods and kicks into a full skip as they round the car. “Why she didn’t come with you?” She unlocks the car and helps him out of his backpack, correcting his sentence before she answers, “Why didn’t she come with me?” Caleb just nods, stepping into the car and plopping into his seat. She misses when he was small enough for her to pick up. It wasn’t that long ago, the precious boy being small like his mother. 

Barbara buckles the boy into his car seat while answering, “She is with someone’s parents. That’s why we have to pick her up.” Swinging his feet and nodding his head, “Okay, yay!” She chuckles and shuts the door back at him. Once she gets in the front seat, he begins to talk about his day. At his speed, she understands some things, like they had applesauce with lunch and colorful spotted cookies for a snack which she tells him were M&M cookies. By the time they have arrived at Abbott he has started talking about his blankets and toys with great detail. 

She parks up front in the half empty lot in front of the school. Picking up her phone she sees the text from Melissa that the meeting is over and just to text her when they arrived. Unbuckling, she turns in her seat, “Caleb, smile for Auntie.” With pride he cheeses at her phone and blinks at the flash as she takes the picture. Although his eyes are closed the picture is too cute not to send. Texting Melissa afterwards, ‘Waiting for you out front.’ From the back seat, playing with his lanyard Caleb asks, “What kind of ice cream?” Thinking for a moment, she can’t seem to remember what ice cream Melissa bought, seeing the bag, or the receipt. Rather than admitting she doesn’t know, she lays the responsibility on Melissa, “You’ll have to ask Mel when she gets in.” 

The two sit there talking mostly about Caleb and his toys or classmates until Caleb spots the red head coming their way. He bounces in his car seat, points, and laughs happily. Melissa is walking their way, hair over one shoulder and her large black bag over the other. Barbara points behind her as Melissa gets closer, directing her attention to the beaming child behind her. Opening the front door, only to set her back down and open the back down and lean in to tickle Caleb. “Hey, big boy!” He giggles and tries to tickle her back, although his hands are on her shoulders rather than her stomach. Chuckling at him, she pulls away, “Let me see that smile.” 

Grinning wide for Melissa, he still tries to talk, “see my ‘issing eeth?” Melissa nods and starts counting, “Missing three! Your big boy teeth will be coming in soon.” Dropping his smile and looking at her questioningly, “But I am a big boy already.” Barbara has to laugh from the front seat, “Yes, but you will get much big, baby.” Seeming to be the answer he needs, he simply says, “Okay.” Lightly squeezing his cheek, Melissa steps back and shuts the door before getting in the car. Behind her, Caleb is feeling for his missing teeth, “Finger out of your mouth, hun.” 

Sitting down comfortably, Melissa leans over the console and kisses Barbara who briefly asks about the meeting again. “It was good. Mostly a progress check from the last meeting.” Barbara nods and kisses her one last time before Melissa can move back to her seat. While buckling, Caleb’s voice fills the car again, “What ice cream ‘d you get me, Auntie Messa?” Turning to her wife with a raised eyebrow, Melissa mouths, “I’m gonna get you.” seeing as her ice cream is being offered up to her favorite nephew she’s not actually all that mad. Looking in the mirror to talk to him, “We have vanilla bean and cookies ‘n cream.” Avoiding listing the one she’s most protective of. 

Barbara is pulling out as more questions come from their back seat, “What color is vanilla bean?”

“White, I guess, hun.”

“But it’s a bean. Beans are gween.”

“Not that type of bean, sweet boy.”

“So it’s sweet?”

“Yes. Very.”

“What kinda cookies are in the ice cream?”

“Oreo cookies.”

“The black crackers?”

“Yes, with the white cream in the middle.”

Similar questions follow them all the way home, even all the way inside until the ice creams are set in front of him. The vanilla bean is in a black container while the cookies n cream is in a yellow one, so he chooses the brighter one. Grabbing three spoons as Melissa scoops out one bowl of cookies n cream and two vanilla bean, Caleb stands politely waiting to help her. Putting one spoon in each bowl and hand one to him, “Hold it with both hands.” Caleb nods and walks with both hands on the bowl, putting it on the table first and then climbing into his favorite chair at the dining table. Barbara joins them not too long after. As they eat their ice cream, Caleb tells Melissa many of the same things Barbara has heard in the car. This time he adds details, like how he has a TRex stuff and a plastic velociraptor which takes them three times to understand, his blue cubby at school and his new light up shoes. 

Melissa and Barbara sit side by side, holding hands and listening intently, catching up on months worth of events. They only cut him off once he has finished his ice cream. “Let’s clean this up.” Barbara stands taking their bowls and walking to the drain with them. Caleb hops off of his seat and walks over to the dishwasher pulling it open. He waits beside her to help her load them. Though Barbara doesn’t often use the dishwasher, she won’t deny that him offering to help makes her proud. “Such good manners.” 

Barbara rinses the bowls and spoons and passes them to him who sets them a little sloppily in the bottom rack. While she dries her hand, she gives him instructions on the correct way to place them in the rack. When he is done, she still bends down to adjust a few things. Melissa stands against the door nodding her head, “Nice job. Very good, honey. Want to play a game?” Running to her legs the same as he had Barbara’s at the daycare, “What game?” Arms locked around her knees, she clutches the wall and looks up at Barbara for help. “Think you can be Auntie Mel at Connect 4 now?” Leaning back now, using her legs as a pivot, “I think so!” Melissa groans a little in pain and leans down the same time as Barbara to pull him free, nearly butting heads. “You’ve got to let go so I can get the game. Then we’ll see if you can beat me.”

For the next hour, Melissa sits on the floor with Caleb reteaching him how to play Connect 4 and enjoying watching how excited he got even when he lost. Barbara sits on the couch behind Caleb trying her best to help him and throws Melissa a pillow to hopefully help relieve what will most certainly be a painful back later. Once Barbara receives the message that Janine is headed their way, she announces it as their last game. Both on the floor pouting, “Last game, then you can clean up and come cuddle with me before your mom gets here.” Melissa’s pout disappears and she leans over their game to whisper, “Last game, loser has to tickle Barbara.” Caleb giggles and reaches out to Melissa, “I win, I tickle you.” The red head laughs and shakes her head, not finding it in her to correct him. He loses again, proudly. They clean up with Melissa poking at him and him giggling and returning to the poke. Barbara takes the box from them once it is done to put it up. Melissa does her best to get off the floor and on the couch.

Barely having sat down, Caleb jumps in her lap and begins to tickle her. “I win. I got you.” She laughs and grabs his hand, “No, honey. I won. I’ve got you.” before attacking him with tickles. When Barbara returns, she watches for just a second before bending over the couch and joining in. For the first time in months their home is filled with the laughter of a child for an extended period of time. 

[penname-artist]

Dusty’s Family Tree

I shit you not, I have a fic titled “Crophopper Family Reunion” that has been a WIP for almost two YEARS. At this point I’m more inclined to just rewriting the entirety of what’s already there. But with that story possibility in mind, I want to discuss Dusty’s, ahh, upbringing:

-Dustin Liam Crophopper is the youngest of two boys, born June 6th of 1990 (that’s right, he’s a Gemini. Y’all are in trouble)

-His older brother is Chase Aaron Crophopper, born two years prior on September 8th of 1988 (Easy to remember: it’s 9/9/88)

-Both boys are the pride and joy of parents Tess and Charlie Crophopper, both lifelong farmers

-The family lived in Wyoming (where both kiddos were born) until Dusty was about 2, when they decided to move their stead into Minnesota for better job opportunities. They lived in a patch of land a little ways from Propwash Junction, but just close enough to make a drive up there or a decent walk

-The saying “One child’s an angel, the other’s a demon” rings very true for Tess; she loves both her children and would never pick favorites, but let’s just say Dusty gave her a LOT more gray hairs on her head than Chase ever could. That child was accident-prone.

-The boys basically grew up knowing Dottie and Chug; all of their families were local business owners, and being from such a small place they all got thrown into the same homeschool cirriculum. (That’s right ya boy’s HOMESCHOOLED, just like ME. ...FUN FACT. and it all makes fucking sense now don’t it)

-Despite the distance between the family at this point in their lives, the Crophoppers were all from pilot families, and flew in to meet up around the holidays. Dusty and Chase were the babies of the family for a long time, given all their cousins were older than them. Dusty took it all in stride. Chase? Well, he could have lived without the cheek-pinching.

-They had all the classic redneck homeschool children works; a self-made treehouse, a tire swing over the pond, a pile of random scrap items in a field that they turned into an obstacle course, free access to cattle fields, corn fields, and a forest of trees to climb, and at SOME point they had a four-wheeler too, but they kind of sort of crashed it into a mudpit and never saw it again (well actually Charlie had to tow it out and it was busted but the point still stands)

-They also had an old Nintendo console. Dusty loved the Mario games no matter how much he sucked at them (he still sucks at them)

-Dustin goes by a few different nicknames to his family; “Dusty” of course has always been the most prominent, but several family members also call him by his middle name, Liam, because it’s his middle name which came from his grandfather (Tess’s dad)

-Dusty started working his first official job when he was fifteen, when he earned his pilot’s license to help Leadbottom out with his own crop fields. The family was trying to help him out since he was the last living member of his family and didn’t have anyone else to take on the job for him. He did promise that the fields would eventually be inherited to the Crophoppers given that now they’re essentially family friends.

-Chase moved back to Wyoming in his early 20s to work on a cattle ranch, and eventually married and had a daughter. Her name is Piper, and she is the world to not just her parents, but also her Favorite Orange Uncle.

-Tess has the literal short end of the stick in the household; not only is she the only female of the house, but she’s also the shortest, at 5′3″, while her boys are both about the same height as their dad (Charlie and Chase are both 6′1″, Dusty’s 6′0″). But that doesn’t really stop her, she can still grab earlobes from that height.

[sgtjamesrogers]

WIP WEDNESDAY

welcome back to 'who's wip is it anyway' where jesse posts a wip from yet Another fandom he hasn't written for before, today we have 1.5k of 'buddie fic where eddie discovers that the girl buck was involved with in virginia beach didn't just teach him how to surf'

The thing is, it really should have been a routine call.

Or at least, nearly routine. Just south of routine. After all, it’s hard to get standard, by the book, “to the letter” in terms of rescues every day when you’re living and working in Los Angeles. Even so, Eddie is fairly certain that they’ve attended to weirder and more awkward emergencies than this one. 

Even if ‘accidental fire inside West Hollywood’s most exclusive BDSM dungeon’ ranks pretty high on the master list of strange. 

“Go ahead and take a deep breath for me,” he tells the person wrapped in a silk robe in front of him. He presses the drum of his stethoscope to their back, squinting. “And one more time… perfect. You might have a bit of a sore throat for the next few days, but it’s nothing to worry about. Lungs sound great.” 

He loops his stethoscope around the back of his neck again, watching them glance nervously into the entrance of the building, and Eddie knows that look. 

Instead of reassuring them directly, he says, “That’s a nice-looking robe.” Eddie gestures to the silver embroidered monogram on the chest pocket, it looks expensive, to say the least. It’s the right thing to say; their chest puffs out in pride as they look down with a pleased smile at the monogram. 

“My partner had it made for me,” they say conspiratorially, straightening out the pocket. “She didn’t want to only do a collar, she said, ‘I don’t want to own you, I want to keep you warm.’ ” A little lovestruck smile curves across their lips as they speak, and it’s cute, it’s adorable, honestly, except Eddie’s– 

Eddie’s not flustered, that’s not it, it just feels like something is trying to escape from behind his sternum, trying to dig loose from between his ribs. It’s nothing he could verbalize if prompted because he knows how it would sound. 

And he’s not being judgemental! Really! He knows when he’s judging because it’s always on purpose. This doesn’t feel purposeful, this feels like some strange animal just woke up in his chest and found the dial to crank his pulse up without warning. 

He’s saved from working out a way to respond by a figure bursting from the front doors, and his patient sits up straight and waves with both arms. 

“Naomi! Here!” 

Naomi comes striding across the parking lot to where the 118 has set up triage and does an incredible job of wrapping his patient up in her arms, since she doesn’t look taller than 4’11. Grateful to have an out, Eddie stands up from the crouch he was in. 

“They’re just fine, only a little smoke inhalation,” he relays, eyes scanning automatically down Naomi. She looks a little smoke-smudged but otherwise fine, and her dark platform boots somehow look immaculate. “You get checked out inside?” 

“Someone looked me over, scout’s honor,” she replies with a wry smile, one that only grows as her partner tucks their face into her neck as they hug. A protective hand runs down their back and then tucks a few fingers into the leather choker Eddie had assumed was just a necklace, before. 

“Diaz! Buckley needs another pair of hands inside!” 

Eddie spins away with a half-hearted wave, striding toward the sound of Bobby’s voice. He hopes he doesn’t look too grateful as he turns to squeeze past him, and into the building. 

-----

For a dungeon, there are more windows inside than Eddie was expecting. Which ends up being for the best, because it allows the smoke to filter out and make the “rescue” Buck’s currently working on less dire, and more just–

“Embarrassing!” Cries out the woman still strapped into an apparatus that Eddie is sure has a name, but he certainly doesn’t know it. “This is so fucking embarrassing!” 

The big circular furniture sort of reminds him of old circus acts of girls belted to spinning wheels, with performers throwing knives at them. It’s listing heavily to the right, and the woman’s body weight has tightened her bonds too much, leaving her trapped as the rest of the club evacuated. 

Thankfully her play partner– currently standing to Buck’s left with a matching mortified expression –thought to tuck a terrycloth robe over her front like a sleeveless snuggie. Buck is bent closer to where the woman’s right wrist is strapped in and he’s… angry? 

Eddie does a double take. Buck is definitely angry. 

“I’m so sorry,” the play partner groans out, half covering her face with one hand. “I shouldn’t have–” “Used this rope? Or this knot? Yeah, you really shouldn’t have done either,” Buck cuts her off, terse and unhappy as his fingers work at the tight knot at the woman’s wrist. “It’s got no give, too much tension, and there’s no way she’s not going to have rope burns. Not to mention this knot…” He gives part of it a frustrated little tug. “Would always get tighter the more she pulled. Not safe.” 

He tips his head to the side to level another displeased look at the partner. “Why the hell didn’t you just use silk rope? There were probably at least five other people in this building who could have loaned you guys some.” 

“It was my idea,” says the woman, miserably. “I wanted the rope burn, it was… it was going to be a whole thing.” 

“Well, now your rope is going bye-bye,” Buck says with a shake of his head, looking at Eddie for the first time since he entered the room. “I need your pocket knife, mine isn’t in my gear.” 

Eddie stumbles forward, hands jittering through his pocket like he’s just remembered they’re attached to his wrists. He feels strangely weightless, like maybe he’s just watching this happen in front of him like a movie, and he’s not thinking about anything. Nothing at all. 

“Thanks,” Buck mutters automatically as Eddie passes it over, slicing through the ropes at one wrist. He cuts a quizzical look at Eddie once he’s done. “Eddie?” Buck’s eyes are wondering why he’s hanging back, and Eddie doesn’t exactly have a good answer for that. 

He steps up and prepares for their patient to be cut loose, helping her tuck her free arm through the robe properly, and then her other arm as Buck bends to free her legs. She grimaces as she steps down onto the floor, and Eddie can easily see how raw her ankles already are. 

He tucks the robe fully around the back of her like a hospital gown as Buck lifts both her arms in front of her, eyes assessing. This is usually Eddie, Hen, or even Chim’s job before it’s Buck’s, but he’s so uncharacteristically focused that Eddie just watches and ties the belt at her waist. 

“No tingling in your fingers?” he says, instructing her to open and close her hands. “Your forearms?” 

She shakes her head, looking from Buck to her partner. “No, no. It’s all fine.” 

He gives a short nod. “Good. If you notice any later, have her take you straight to the ER. Nerve damage is nothing to mess around with.” Before the couple can start moving toward the entrance, Buck stops the play partner, making sure to catch her eye. “Listen, even if you were the dom in that scene… you know you can always say no, safe words are for everyone.” 

She flushes to the roots of her hair, and Eddie can feel her mortification like his skin is crawling with cold chills. He takes Buck by the shoulder, tugging him back. 

“I’m sure this is really important, but I think she gets the picture Buck,” he says, words more level than he expected them to be. Buck looks at Eddie like he’s finally seeing him, and his eyes widen with horror. It makes Eddie feel a thousand percent more normal, if he’s being truthful. Look at him, he’s being so nonchalant. At no point was he “chalant”, nope. 

A few seconds pass, and when Buck keeps looking like the floor is seconds from dropping out from under his feet, Eddie knows what he has to do. This has to be just like every other mildly embarrassing fact about Buck that the team likes to razz him with; like the Peru pictures where he clearly had a mishap with a bottle of Sun-In, or the fact that he peed his pants a little on a movie date to see The Village. 

“So,” Eddie says, grinning. “Safe words are for every–” 

Buck cuts him off with a theatrical groan, rolling his eyes with his whole body as he walks away. “He thinks he’s hilarious,” he remarks to someone who Eddie thinks might be a B-Shift substitute. “A comedian, even!” 

Eddie feels proud that he handled that so well, and he decides he’s going to brag about it to Frank tomorrow. Or wait, he’ll have forgotten about it by then, because he handled it so well and also because he’s going to forget all about it before the end of their shift. 

He’s positive that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

[almostcolorfulcolor]

Death Note, meet Supernatural: Chapter 2

Relationships: L (Death Note)/Reader, L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s) Work Summary: What if Death Note existed in a world with Winchesters in it? Would L finally have the evidence he needs to prove Light is Kira? How will L fare in a world where monsters are real and not every case is solvable by him? Lucky for him, there's a hunter here to work side-by-side with him. CHAPTER 1 Chapter Summary: Anne mingles with the taskforce. L accepts her presence...reluctantly.

Chapter 2: A Truce

“So you’re joining our team today? Glad to have you here. I’m Matsui!”, someone speaks puppy-like from my left side. I can’t see who as my eyes are still fixed on the douchebag in front of me. Others notice this as the boy to the left of the weirdo shakes him causing him to break eye contact and hand me the win.

I smirk charmingly at the boy and purr, “Thanks for that.” He goes wide-eyed for a moment before averting his gaze and mumbling something like, “No problem”. The boy and this weirdo are joined by handcuffs, what’s this? Glancing around the room, I see their team has a total of 5 members, excluding the tall dude from earlier- the weirdo, the goofball, the wide-eyed maiden, one old dude (from the police I guess), and a stoic dude that reminds me of Cas. I squint, wondering if he really isn’t an angel. Nope, there's no recognition in his eyes and let's be real, no angel would be indifferent to me after the mayhem I've caused with the Winchesters.

The old guy walks up to me and brings his hand out to shake. “I’m Asahi, a member of L’s team to catch Kira. The young man behind me is Moji, that’s my son Light and you already know L and Matsui. And you are?”

“I go by the name Anne. The higher-ups have sent me to take charge of the Kira investigation alongside L. I’m hoping you all cooperate and make this easier for everyone.”

The goofball starts to cheer to catch Kira when L interrupts him in a bored monotone, “Control yourself, Matsui. She will not be leading the investigation with me. However, to appease the FBI, she may observe the case without hindering my work.”

Flashing a saccharine-sweet smile, I stride over to his chair and rest my hands on its arms. He’s sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest so I feel like I’m cornering a small child. Steeling myself, I stare him down once again and whisper, “Listen up buttercup. I’m here and I’m leading this case with you. Tough. You have been working on it for almost a year and have only found out that Kira is in Kanto, Japan. You’ve got 12 FBI agents, 3 civilians, and 3 Japanese police officers dead- not counting the shit-ton of criminals that is. People are pissed, and they want results. Now I’m not saying you’re incompetent; your track record proves otherwise. But this is a big case and you’re stuck here. So stop being prideful and accept that you need the damn help.”

The room is so quiet when I stop speaking that I’m sure they must’ve heard every word I said. As I’m waiting for a sign that I’ve gotten through L’s thick skull, I see something in his expression change. Instead of being cold, his eyes turn liquid. Warm. I feel as if I'm a kid again, wrapped in a blanket, drinking hot chocolate after playing in the rain for too long. My head starts to swim and all I want is to climb in a bed and curl up to sleep. The longing is so intense that I’m startled when something is pushed against my lips.

My eyes must have fluttered close because when I open them, Baby Bird is prodding at my mouth trying to force-feed me a marshmallow. I figure it’s a peace offering and open my mouth to eat the treat. He finally chirps, “Okay, you can...help. But Kira is dangerous and the team’s safety is important. You’re new here so do not make any moves without consulting me for a few days till you get familiar with the case. I cannot deal with another Matsui.” Matsui’s offended “Hey!” rings out confirming that everyone is eavesdropping.

“Seems fair. But I want to know everything about the case. No secrets.”

“No secrets”, he hesitatingly agrees.

Glad that this has been dealt with, my energy dips even further and I want to sit down except there’s nowhere to sit. Sensing my problem, the teenager, Light, offers me his chair and I shoot him a grateful look.

Time to address the team. “So guys, we’re a team now. I know you have been giving your best but this Kira is too smart. Having a fresh perspective may help move things along. I’m on your side and working together, we will catch this guy.”

As everyone is nodding, an old guy from before comes in with a trolley loaded with refreshments. Manners be damned, I jump up for tea- Indian Chai, score- and a couple of grilled sandwiches. As I settle down and start eating at a speed rivaling Dean’s, I meet Light’s amused glance. I gulp down some Chai and explain myself, “I haven’t had anything except some Wakoucha since I boarded the flight here. I’m a hungry, hungry hippo right now.” He just laughs good-naturedly and says, “Eat all you want. Watari is a really good cook.” Hearing his name, said Watari comes up to me, smiling. Something about how he walks is familiar and then it clicks. “You’re the mean guy who brought me here!” He shoots me an apologetic look and starts, “I’m sorry, Miss Anne. I had to know L’s decision regarding you before revealing myself or anything about the case. I hope you understand it was a necessary precaution.” “Well, all is forgiven if you keep making me your Chai.” The old man looks relieved and goes away chuckling, “Certainly, certainly.”

I turn back to Light and find him staring at me again. At my raised eyebrow, he points to me eating my 3rd sandwich. “You just don’t see girls here eat earnestly like that. Makes you quite the sight.” Well, I must be quite the sight. I’m certain I’ve got some mayo on my face. He’s smiling so he’s not making fun of me but I still slow down enough to eat like a civilized person. I see the rest of the guys whispering in a corner and shooting me concerned looks. No worry, I’ll win them over soon. “So what’s with the handcuffs?”, I finally ask. Light just shakes his head, “L will explain it soon.”

Speaking of L, I find him working diligently on the cake now and sending it such an adoring gaze that I almost crack a get-a-room joke. Dean and he could probably write ballads about the perfect pie. Having finished my sandwich, I clean my hands, grab a water bottle and drag my chair over to him.

“Howdy, partner! Can you get me up to speed now?”

A/N:

The groundwork is done now. In the next chapter, we're diving into the Kira case!

Reblogs, comments and ❣️ are appreciated. XOXO

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

[leejungchans]

caught : y.jh

word count | 1.1k

pairing | yoon jeonghan (svt) x female reader

warning(s) | none (lmk if i missed anything!!)

genre | fluff, humour (a lil), coworkers au

summary: valentine’s day means helping your students make valentine cards. you didn’t know you’d be receiving one too, though.

a/n: @hannietonin happy belated valentine’s day 💗 this really, really isn’t much, but here’s a little ‘thank you’ for hosting the carat admirer event 🥺 i hope you enjoy (it’s a little bleh ><) and ily!!!!

“That looks very nice, Isaac,” you say, smiling down at the young boy, “I’m sure your mom will love it.”

“Thank you!” he chirps, chest puffing up with pride as he proceeds to explain the various doodles he had drawn on his card. You listen intently, nodding along as he tells you about his mother’s prized rose (“I didn’t know she grew roses!”), the pearl necklace she always wears that was a gift from his father (“That’s so romantic!”) and their family’s pet dog Bacon (“That’s an… interesting name, I like it!”).

You leave Isaac to finish the rest of his card when your other students rush up to you, eager to show you their own cards. “One at a time, one at a time, guys,” you laugh as their little hands lightly tug at your sleeves and jeans, all wanting you to react to their creations first. “I promise I’ll get to everyone!” This seems to do the trick for most of them, and they quickly leave your side to add the finishing touches to their Valentine’s Day cards.

You can’t help the fondness that blooms in your chest as you watch your students animatedly interact with one another; being a preschool teacher came with its stressors like any other job would, but the time you spend with your students reminds you of not only the beauty of youthful innocence, but also your personal goal to ensure they come to school feeling safe and leave feeling understood.

You don’t realise how quickly time flies by until you hear the familiar chime of the bell, signalling the end of the school day just as the last of your students finishes her sharing about the recipient of her card.

“Your older sister will love it, Judy,” you say sincerely, smile growing at the beam that lights up the young girl’s face. “Okay, Class Sunflower, it’s time to pack your bags! If your loved ones are picking you up today, you can even give them your card right when you see them!”

The classroom buzzes with energy as your students, excited at the thought of presenting their gifts, gather their belongings in record speed, slinging their tiny colourful bags over their shoulders before neatly lining up by the door so you can take them outside.

You’re bidding your students and their families goodbye at the front gate when you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve. Excusing yourself from the parent you were talking to, you peer down to find a student from Class Tulip gazing up at you with adorably wide eyes.

You kneel down to match her height, shuffling forward a little when the girl beckons you closer; her breath tickles your ear as her tiny hand forms a barrier around it like she’s about to tell you a secret.

“Mr Yoon told me to tell you he has a present for you,” she whispers, “he says it’s important.”

“Really?”

She giggles with a nod, turning to point in the direction of Jeonghan’s class. “He’s waiting for you inside!”

Oh, what could he be up to this time?

“Your student told me you have a gift for me?” Your smile is teasing as you lean against the doorframe of his classroom, amusedly observing him as he hastily hides something behind his back.

“Ah, I knew I could count on Claire.”

A playful tsk falls from your lips. “You keep turning your kids into your little personal messengers.”

“They love it,” your boyfriend responds cheekily while striding over to you, “then they report back to me about how shy you get after.”

“I’ve never gotten shy because of that! You’re a liar, Yoon Jeonghan.” Okay, so maybe you do get a tiny bit flustered every time he gets one of his students to deliver a sweet message to you—not that he needs to know.

He places a hand over his heart in feign hurt, long lashes kissing his cheekbones as he makes a wounded expression. “My angels would never lie!”

“Mm, I don’t know about that, Hannie. You’re a bad influence on them sometimes.”

“I beg to differ. Now close your eyes and hold out your hands for me, love. I’m gonna give you your present.”

You oblige, resisting the urge to peek as something light and smooth meets your skin, a smile unwittingly stretching across your face when you quickly figure out said present.

“Okay, you can look.”

Jeonghan watches you closely as your eyes flutter open, landing on the red heart-shaped card in your hands, completed with sparkly stick-on gems and your name written in gold glitter glue.

“Oh! Uh… the glue isn’t fully dried,” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “might wanna be careful there.”

You throw your head back as you laugh, making sure to avoid the sticky parts while reading the contents of the card, a warm rush of adoration coursing throughout your body as you take in his heartfelt words.

“Thank you, Hannie,” you smile softly, “I love it. Really.”

“Well, I had some help,” Jeonghan admits with a twinkle in his eyes, closing the space between you as he wraps his arms around your waist while your own loosely drape over his shoulders. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jeonghan.”

Your boyfriend flashes you a crooked grin, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes as he asks, “Now, how about a Valentine’s Day kiss?”

Shameless. So shameless.

Just as he’s above to dive in, however, a startled squeak emits from behind you. Utterly embarrassed, you glance over your shoulder to find Claire, the same girl from earlier, standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hi, Claire,” Jeonghan casually greets with a lazy smile like the two of you didn’t just get caught nearly kissing by one of his students. “Why are you back?”

“I forgot something,” she giggles as she runs over to her seat to fish out a pink umbrella from the drawer. “Bye, Mr Yoon! Bye, Miss L/N!”

She’s gone as quickly as she appeared, vanishing around the corner with a wave goodbye. You can still hear her delighted giggles as her footsteps retreat, and you bury your face into Jeonghan’s shoulder with a loud groan. “Oh my God, we’re never living that down! This is all your fault!”

He merely chuckles at your embarrassment, hand rubbing up and down your back to calm you. “Well… at least we didn’t actually start kissing?” he offers, yelping when you weakly slap at his chest.

You pull away with burning cheeks, already knowing the news of what just happened will surely spread to your own students by tomorrow morning. “I’d be more annoyed with you if your card wasn’t so cute,” you grumble halfheartedly, unable to bring yourself to actually be upset.

Jeonghan wriggles his eyebrows. “Well, then you’re going to love me after you see the huge bouquet of roses in the teachers’ lounge.”

“The what?”

a/n: thank you for reading and feedback is greatly appreciated hehe!!! 💗💗💗

[kairakeiji]

no bc...royalty au with sakusa | notes: fem!reader

when prince!sakusa kiyoomi learns about his arranged marriage he takes it in stride.

it’s for the best, marrying the heir to the throne in the next kingdom. it’s good for business and relations in the kingdoms. it’s what he should be doing as the future ruler of his people. it’s what any good leader would do. yet he’s angry, angry that a choice he’s never thought of his entire life is being taken out of his grasp. it’s annoying, stupid almost how petty he’s being but he’s never thought of marriage until now, and he preferred to keep it that way.

it was a thought that only solidified after he met you.

the sunshine princess, they called you, full of happiness and life with a heart of gold for the kingdom you were set to rule. sakusa heard rumors of how you’d visit the country’s children with food for picnics, how you always make it a goal to dance with as many of your guests as possible during ballroom parties. your kind soul garnered the hearts of your kingdom, and with your wits you almost acted as the pride and joy of the country.

“what a lovely princess, she’ll be a wonderful queen.”

“she’s so beautiful, and she has a kind heart to match.”

“so what’s she doing marrying the grumpy prince?”

god, sakusa hates that name.

he wasn’t grumpy, at least he tried his best not to think that about himself. but with his blunt rationale, monotonous expressions, and incredible intelligence, it was hard for him to look like otherwise. he was elusive, unlike you in the sense that he never really interacted with his kingdom and instead focused on the logistics and paperwork to the job. if anything, sakusa thought he focused more on his duties than you ever did.

so it’s safe to assume he’s not incredibly fond of you.

what was the phrase? opposites attract? yeah, he didn’t really believe in that. because sakusa believed that opposites clashed, that opposites only led to chaos.

but when he found out he needed to marry you, he took in in stride.

after all, it’s what’s best for the kingdom, right?

he watches you with careful eyes as you dance through the crowd, swinging from partner to partner with nothing but bright eyes and a kind smile on your face. it was contagious, yet it seemed to spread to everyone but him.

the two of you barely interacted all night, only giving formal greeting on arrival and standing together in front of the crowd at the announcement of your marriage. it’s something you’ve both known for months, but the crowd erupted in applause when your parents broke the news. for them, it’s exciting, it’s thrilling.

but sakusa isn’t feeling super thrilled about this himself.

you lock eyes with him amidst the crowd, gesturing for him to join you, quickly catching the small circlet on your head before it falls. the boy only shakes his head, refusing your offer for what felt like the hundredth time that night, only to be met with the same pout before you spin back into your partner’s arms.

something boils in him at the thought, something makes him grit his teeth and narrow his gaze as he watches.

jealousy? no, absolutely not, definitely not. he refuses to believe it is.

so, he watches off to the side, outside of the crowd, only nodding kind greetings to people when they pass by. he’s still not sure why he’s called the grumpy prince. he’s plenty kind, he smiles (sometimes), he says his hellos, he’s formal in his bows, what’s not kind about him?

sakusa thinks he needs to give whoever came up with that name a piece of his mind.

“you look so sad.”

your breathless words snap the boy out of his thoughts.

“hello to you too,” he tells you.

“come join me,” you try once more.

and he only shakes his head, “i told you, “ he says, “i don’t dance.”

“sure you do,” you say, “every royal can dance.”

and he knows he can, he just doesn’t want to.

so he lies, “no one taught me how to.”

and you only counter, “then let me teach you.”

sakusa narrows his gaze at you, “you never give up do you?”

but you only smile and shake your head, “i’m quite persistent.”

so he caves, offering out his hand, “fine,” he sighs, voice monotonous.

you take his hand instantly a laugh leaving your lips when you drag him to the dance floor. you bring him front and center, in the heart of the crowd, and the stuffiness makes sakusa instantly want to leave. “okay so,” you start excitedly, “you put your hand on my hip and then i put my hand on your shoulder.” you’re gently guiding his hands, even though sakusa knows exactly where to put them and it makes his gaze soften.

no one’s ever been this careful with him before.

“we can just sway for now,” you tell him as you lace your fingers with his, but he moves before you can process what’s going on, feet moving in perfect time with the music before he pulls away to spin you. there a hint of curiosity in your eyes as he pulls you back into him. “so you can dance?” you question, quirking a brow.

sakusa only nods in response, not missing the way the crowd began to disperse so it was only you two dancing.

“so you lied to me?” you rephrase.

“are you mad about that?”

but while sakusa expects a scolding, you only shake your head.

“i’m just happy i got to dance with you.”

the boy swears his heart just skipped a beat.

the two of you move in perfect sync, every action feeling somehow coordinated as you both follow the music in time. you’re watching sakusa with curiosity in your eyes as he continues to lead you.

“stop staring,” he mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink.

“where else am i supposed to look?” you question with a laugh. “you are my partner after all.”

yeah, you’re not just his dancing partner, but his new life partner as well.

and at that realization, sakusa can’t help but smile.

your eyes widen, words leaving your mouth before you can think, “i’m excited.”

he quirks a brow, “what are you excited about?”

the music ends and sakusa dips you with the final note.

“i’m excited for a life with you.”

his eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink before he pulls you up, staring back at you as the crowd cheers at your dance.

and sakusa thinks that this marriage might be better than he was anticipating.

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE I REPEAT GRUMPY X SUNSHINE SOBS

thanks for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated <33

[sohya]

call, don't text

pairing : hanma x reader x shion

wc : 3k

contents : obvi reader has the most influence, hanma and shion are just there for her, oral (m receiving), deepthroat, spitting (once), unprotected sex, creampie, hanma and shion spitroast reader, handjob (m to m), one mention of vomit but it doesn't happen, hanma's really embarrassing in this i hate him, kinda rough treatment from him as well

notes : for @kisakunt's she's a maneater collab. if you saw me post this on my old blog no you didn't this is my only blog wdym.

weeks of unanswered text shouldn’t bother hanma as much as it does. considering he’s done it to women who expected too much, or for the simple fact that they slipped his mind after finding someone new at one of the eccentric clubs in roppongi.

but when he catches himself backspacing another message inviting, or rather asking, you to come over, he realises he’s lost the pride he accumulated over having so many girls hungry for his dick. so many but you, apparently.

hanma barely had the attention span or interest for someone to catch his eye like you had. getting you to the closest private space was a breeze and the way you moaned his name each time you climaxed around his cock quickly engraved itself into his mind like a core memory. the next time he invited you over had been less than satisfying and hanma would usually drop them at that stage but he ached to hear you moan his name and stare into your glossy eyes again just like he had the first time. the image in his head was still there, but seeing it again won’t hurt him more than his unanswered texts do.

the last of his cigarette burns out and with a quick nip at the stick, his fingers reach up to pluck it from his lips before dropping it to the ground with his heavy boot stomping over it to put it out properly. when he looks back up, he sees a familiar mop of hair flowing in the wind across the street from him. images of his hands tugging on your hair appear in his head and with a quick turn of the head, he realises it was you.

but something stirs inside him when your figure skips up to man, the hair folded over his head to the right exposes the lion tattoo across his temple. which gives hanma a name to the man’s identity, shion madarame. they’re nothing more than acquaintances who run through the same clubs every now and then. he might even fall in the same line of work as shion, but he doesn’t care. not when his mind’s occupied on why you seem to be closer to shion than you are with him. your hands wrap around shion’s arm and he looks down at you with a smile that looks so adoring that hanma can’t help but feel like there is something exclusive between the two of you. is this really who you’ve been blowing him over for? it’s not jealousy, but the heavy feeling that continues to grow in hanma’s chest has him striding across the street over to you before he can stop himself.

you make eye contact with him when a car honks at his reckless decision to cross the street without looking both ways. both you and shion looking at him expectantly when he stands in front of you and he almost feels stupid because he really doesn’t know what to say. he can feel shion staring at him, probably trying to put a name to his face and it only takes a few more seconds before a clap of his hands disrupt the silence. “shuji! hanma shuji, right?” he asks, lips spread widely into a toothy grin.

hanma’s little habit returns as he tucks his thumb into his fist to crack the joint as he ignores shion’s entire existence. “does your boyfriend know you fuck me behind his back?” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. not even a ‘hey’ or ‘you look familiar’, which is what he would usually ask to people who weren’t you.

an amused grin spreads on your lips after the brief look of shock before sweet, melodic laughter falls through your lips. your eyes flutter shut as your fingers rest over your lips to stifle your laugh before you regain yourself and turn to look at the man beside you, who only has an amused expression matching yours.

“wanna tell him, babe?” he asks and his voice is smooth, but there’s a little strain to it that hints at him being a smoker as well or just someone with an abnormally loud voice.

you nod at his words before you turn back to hanma and the height difference between you and him forces you to lift yourself up onto your tippy toes while your hand curls around the back of his neck to pull his head down and lock his lips with yours. on instinct, he returns the kiss, letting your tongue move against his lips before forcing its way into his mouth. you lick around his tongue before a light hum vibrates against his lips from your mouth.

you pull away sooner than he’d like, already missing the feeling of your soft lips against his. but he’s able to stop himself from chasing after you and ruining his image even further. your hand stays wrapped around the back of his neck while your other smooths the fabric of his white t-shirt over his chest.

“he’s not my boyfriend, hanma.” you tell him as your perfectly manicured finger pinches away an imaginary piece of lint from his shirt. he’s relieved but he has half a mind to walk away or divert the conversation. anything to avoid embarrassing himself even further while he can only hope it doesn’t show on his face. his hands busy themselves with pulling another cigarette from the box in his back pocket and after slipping it in between his lips, he feels a little better.

“you jealous or somethin’, shuji?” shion speaks up as he steps closer to the two of you, one hand curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. “you want this sweet cunt all to yourself, is that it?” hanma watches as your expression changes into something flustered when shion’s hand travels down to cup your mound through your denim shorts and a soft mewl falls from your lips when his hand applies pressure, pivoting slightly and creating friction that has you aching for shion. both shion and hanma, now that the extra company was watching intently with interest that shows in the growing erection in his jeans.

“shion.” you mumble as your hands fall off hanma’s figure to grasp at shion’s wrist, his hand still palming at your crotch. “can we go back to my place?” the envious feelings returns in hanma’s bones when you ask that. not that he should complain, given he’s always asked you to come to him, but the thought that shion has fucked you in your own bed, is something he wishes he had.

“‘course. let’s go.” shion’s hand moves from between your legs to your hands and hanma feels like he’s lost you again when you turn to follow after him. but he’s caught by surprise when your hand wraps around his wrist, tugging him along with you.

“you’ll join us right, hanma?” your eyes are closed and arched, smiling just as wide as what you have on your lips and hanma can’t say no, even if he wanted to. but he’s been waiting for another taste of you for weeks, other girls don’t satisfy him like you do and he’d be an idiot to let this chance pass. so he doesn’t.

if he thought two weeks of dry replies and sent but not read messages were hell, what was happening now could easily top that.

he thought the sight of shion with his cock sliding down your throat while you moan and gag lewdly around him would arouse hanma to the point where it hurt. but when you and shion play along to hanma’s mistake from earlier; mistaking shion as your boyfriend, he wants nothing more than to zip his dick back into his pants and leave your dreaded apartment and the situation he was in right now.

“you seeing this, shuji?” shion asks through painted breaths as he squeezes your throat, tightening your walls around his cock and eliciting a long moan from you. “her throat only does this for me, doesn’t it babe?” his eyes divert from hanma, who’s sitting in between your legs and lazily rubbing your cunt through your soaked panties.

you hum a sound of approval to the best of your ability, but still gargle as you lose composure at the sudden question. “her throat’s only as tight and wet as it is when it’s my cock down there, hm?” his hips draw back and hanma thinks he’s letting you get the chance to breathe but he only slams his hips forward to fill your throat up once again. what’s even hotter is that you don’t even falter, mewling in delight as your fingers display your gratitude with a pinch to your perked nipples.

“you ever get this lucky with her, or does she only give you that messy cunt of hers?” hanma doesn’t know if shion’s aware of the death glare being stared into him, but as much as hanma hates it, he completely understands. you’ve never let hanma anywhere near your mouth. he’s eaten you out multiple times. sucked his and your mixed cum out of your hole so many times, hoping you’d give him the pleasure of your tight throat on his dick, but you’ve always said no. and as shitty as hanma can be, he doesn’t push it, always assuming it was just you and your inability to take something as big as him in your mouth.

but seeing shion seconds away from filling your throat with his seed, he realises he’s been played, by you of all people. and it’s even worse now that you and shion find amusement in this with the terms of endearment and shion bragging about the many things you and shion have done that you turned hanma down for.

“shut up and move back.” hanma grits his teeth as he rises to his knees and pushes hanma back, watching the bulge in your throat disappear when shion’s cock slips out. you barely get the chance to pout at the feeling of your throat being so empty before hanma’s replacing shion’s position, head of his cock pressing against your closed lips.

“shion.” your bottom lips juts out even more if possible as your eyes scan to look for the other male. “he was gonna cum, hanma. you ruined it.”

hanma stares down at you in shock which quickly dissolves into embarrassment as he’s nudged to the side. he watches as you happily take shion’s cock down your mouth once more. exaggerated sounds of wet glug glug glug’s fill the room up while your eyes water with every deep push of shion’s hips against your face.

“you’ll get your turn soon, shuji. she’s the one that makes all the rules.” shion grunts before he looks down at you once more. his hands curl around your throat and presses himself deep inside you. “ready to take my cum, baby?”

you shake your head as you push shion’s hips back and he falters slightly but obliges. he has a frown on his lips as his orgasm slowly dissipates. “hanma.” you rasp out as you try to even your breath and hanma looks down at you curiously. “finish him off. make him cum on my tongue.”

he barely has the chance to question your words because shion’s one step ahead of him, grabbing hanma’s wrist and guiding his hand to his wet cock. “c’mon. just do it. it’s the only way you’ll get what you want.” he hates how easily he wants to win by you so he does. fingers wrap around shion’s wet and hard length, pumping from base to tip with the head pointed down towards your open mouth. it only takes three jerks before white ribbons shoot from shion’s tip and into your mouth, painting the roof of your mouth and your tongue with his seed. whatever misses and lands on your cheek or the side of your mouth is pushed back into your cavern with your fingers before your lips around the same digits and you’re looking up at the two men with fluttering eyelashes and hearts in your eyes.

“you’re both so good to me.” you sigh as you roll over before rising up to your knees to wrap an arm around both their shoulders. hanma’s hand acts on instinct as he holds onto your waist to balance your wobbly figure while shion’s stay by his side. you plant a wet kiss on both their cheeks before you look at hanma. “you want my mouth so bad that you’re willing to touch another guy’s dick for me.” you giggle and it’s obnoxious but hanma never wants you to shut up.

“i’ll suck your dick for you for that.” you grin before shuffling back and looking at shion once more. “and you. fuck me?” neither of them need to be told twice, wanting nothing more than to give you what you want as you present yourself on all fours.

your face nuzzles against hanma’s stomach, the hair of his happy trail tickling the soft skin of your cheek while shion presses his tip against your clenching hole from behind. you hum softly as shion lets a line of spit drip from the tip of his tongue onto your hole before his fingers push the lubrication inside. you feel him press his fat tip against your hole and after the initial pop of it falling in, a quick strong thrust of his hips is all it takes before he fully bottoms out inside of you, the dull head of his cock pressing into your cervix. your walls clench tightly around him as hanma forces your mouth open with a pinch of your chin before pressing his cock into your mouth, making you feel full from both ends.

you easily take half of his cock immediately and hanma loses his patience very fast. his hands find the back of your head and with one final look in your eyes, he pushes your head down while his hips jerk up and meets your face halfway. he barely has the time to check if you’re at your limit before he’s pulling his hips back and forcing his cock back down past your tonsils and into your throat.

“god, fuck. just like that.” hanma looks down as he pulls his hips back to let you breathe, but you’re pivoting forward with every harsh thrust shion’s delivering you and the sound of his hips slamming against your ass fills the room. but that’s not want hanma wants. the room’s too quiet of your gags and gargled moans and he’s willing to fix that. his cock fills up your mouth nice and easy and he’s trying to hold back his frustrations that’s accumulating at the thought that you’ve been holding off this throat from him. he wants to make it last but make the most of it at the same time.

“throat’s so fucking tight, shit.” he hisses in disbelief as he bundles up your hair in one fist and tugs your head upwards with the other hand cupped under your chin so you can look up at him. the glossy look in your eyes that he’s missed looking at is back and he could almost swear he’s in love.

“isn’t it?” shion pipes up and hanma uses all the self control he can muster to not show his annoyance at the reminder of the extra company. “you gonna let him use that throat again, baby? or is this just a one time thing?” he asks before punctuating his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that drives hanma’s cock further down your throat.

the tears spill down your cheeks at that point as you gag hopelessly around hanma’s length. he hisses as your throat constricts around him even tighter, eyebrows scrunching together as he feels his orgasm building up. “don’t fuckin’ do that. i won’t last.” he warns shion. but shion doesn’t listen because he knows you don’t want him to and he snaps his hips against you once more, making you almost hurl your last meal around hanma’s cock, before he stills.

“fuck, she’s cumming.” shion groans as he slows his pace down and helps you ride out your high, only picking up the pace when small noises leave your mouth at the oversensitivity.

“already?” hanma can’t help but ask, wanting to feel like he has the upper hand that he lost in that two week period, and you let him have it, just because the feeling of two cocks abusing your mouth and pussy is too good of a feeling for you to form any coherent thoughts.

you flutter your eyelashes back up at hanma, eyes begging him to shoot his load down your throat when you can feel his rhythm slipping and his cock unceremoniously twitch inside your mouth. “you want me to cum, hm? want me to fi- fuuckk.” he talks too much and it only takes one swallow around his shaft before he loses his composure and squirts his seed down your throat. what lands on your tongue tastes tangy and slightly salty but you find yourself enjoying the taste.

shion only cums a beat later after hanma pulls out. low groans fill the room from behind and in front of you as you kitten lick the mess off the tip of hanma’s cock. the extra clenches of your walls helps milk shion’s orgasm out as he fills you up. you fall to the bed once you lose the support of shion’s hands on your hips keeping you up while a contented sigh is huffed out through your lips.

the clean up after that is a breeze, having the both of them do the most and cleaning themeselves and you up. once the three of you are clean enough, they follow your lead in climbing under your heavy quilt with nothing on your naked body. you’re sandwiched between the two of them and it’s warm enough that you feel your eyes growing heavy.

“if you want to see me again, hanma.” you tell him as you turn your body to the side to properly face him. “don’t text me.”

“you text her?” shion laughs. “rookie move. should call her instead. she hates typing, says it makes her think too much.”

you ignore the jab from shion as you look at hanma with a dopey smile. “but he’s right. call me and i’ll do more than just suck you off.”

network tags : @planetonet @tokyoredlightdistrict

[let-me-take-your-soul]

HAIII I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH??? JUST FOUND IT THO HAHA

anywaysssss can you write me one that's like Kid and Asura bonding?? Basically, instead of killing Asura Maka manged to bring Asura ut of his madness like she did with Crona, ya know? So I just kinda want one from Asura's POV, maybe going into a little detail about how he's a little insecure about how he thinks Kid might be ashamed to have him as a brother? So he decides to try and fix that by taking Kid out to a merketplace run with their father for FAMILY BONDINNNGGG!!!

BUt it kinda goes wrong when some kids start picking on Kid and forcing him into one of his OCD episodes by laughing at his hair and whatnot, and Asura losesd his temper about it, and then gets really guilty after their father manages to calm him down from it. Cut to later and Kid finds him sulking in his room and decides to comfort him and they bond and shit <3

You can fill in whatever plot holes you'd like lol

This was a really cute request!!! Thank you!

Asura Lives AU

Bonding between Kid and Asura

CW for physical violence and mentions of panic attacks

The world was terrifying. No matter how hard he tried and where he looked, Asura couldn’t escape that clenching feeling in his chest. The chronic nausea of nerves made him want to hide, but here he was wandering Death City, clinging to his father like a small child. He didn’t think this would be possible, but that girl got him to see the world a little more clearly somehow. 

He still had so much fear inside of him, but his father had promised not to abandon him and his needs again. Even though he had felt betrayed by Lord Death in the past, something about him had changed drastically over the years and Asura could tell that he wasn’t lying to him. If he was sure of one thing, it was that. 

Asura took a glance at the reason he felt his father had become more attentive. His brother, Kid, was striding calmly next to the two of them. Asura was certain that Kid was their father’s pride and joy. In some ways, it hurt to see someone be so much more successful than him, and he didn’t understand how Kid could be so amazing in the world’s eyes. Still, maybe it was because they were brothers, but Asura couldn’t find himself hating Kid at all. He desperately wanted to get closer to his brother in fact, but- he had no idea how to go about doing that.

After the war against madness was said and done, when Maka (Asura was certain that was the girl’s name) pulled him out of his own deep-seated madness, Kid had forgiven Asura. That scared him more than anything, to have his brother forgive him for such awful transgressions so easily. He didn’t understand how anyone could just… get over that!

“Do you have something you wanted to say to me, Asura?”

Asura jumped, tightening his scarves around himself more when he realized he had been staring at Kid the entire time he was lost in thought.

“No. Nothing” Asura replied plainly.

Kid gave a small nod and the three of them continued down the street.

“Woah! Look at that kid with the weird hair! Who styles their hair like that? It’s so uneven. Three stripes, but just on the one side? Someone is just looking for attention”

A loud nasally voice catches the attention of the three shinigami walking down the street. It was easy to pick out a snobbish looking kid sitting at a local cafe's patio seating. He was sitting with a couple other kids who were snickering and looking directly at them.

“Isn’t he that guy who’s like, super obsessed with symmetry or something? Jeez… he’s not very symmetrical if you ask me.” 

The three shinigami stopped. Asura looked over at Kid, the one this group was obviously talking about.

Kid was standing silently, but his face wasn’t devoid of emotion. He was biting his bottom lip so hard, it looked like he could break skin at any moment. His fingers were twitching with intention, as if he was trying to ground himself from a panic attack. Asura knew Kid’s hair was a point of contention for him and being a horrifically anxious being himself, Asura could tell that Kid was trying to stop a full meltdown from happening in front of this group of shitty children. Asura felt something in his stomach snap.

“Oh my! Where are your parents at-” Lord Death had started to confront the kids, but didn’t get too far before Asura was holding the ringleader of the group by the neck. It wasn’t hard enough to suffocate him, but it was more than enough to terrify. 

“What gives you the right to comment on someone else's appearance, huh? Do you think you’re just so much better? I shouldn’t hesitate to teach you some damn manners since your parents clearly failed you!” Asura spat.

The other kids were shaking in fear next to him, slowly backing up to avoid Asura’s wrath. 

“I think it’s time for us to go home” Lord Death’s usually cheery voice was even as he put a hand on Asura’s back.

Embarrassed at his sudden outburst, Asura let go of the kid who scrambled away from him along with his friends.

Asura caught a glimpse of Kid, his expression unreadable. It made the guilt brewing inside him almost unbearable and Asura’s gaze remained locked to the ground the entire way home. He wished he would’ve worn more layers to hide his shame.

.

.

.

Asura refused to leave his room for the rest of the day. In general, he didn’t want to ever leave again, but he knew it was only a matter of time before someone dragged him back out again “for his own good” they would say. For now though, he could enjoy some respite inside his room. He had expected the rest of the night to himself, but he was interrupted by a sudden knock on his door. Asura didn’t get up to open the door, nor did he give a vocal response. Maybe if he stayed silent, the person at his door would go away. No such luck though, as Kid opened the door Asura realized he never locked. 

“Can I come in?” Kid asks.

“You’re pretty much in anyway”

“You’re right. I also would have come in if you’d said no anyway. It’d be beneficial if we talked about today” 

Asura huffs and avoids looking at Kid.

“You don’t need to lecture me. I know choking kids is wrong, no matter the context. I know I need to control my temper more” Asura says.

“Well, you aren’t wrong about that, but I actually wanted to thank you” Kid responds.

Asura’s gaze snaps up and he squints at Kid, wondering what he was talking about.

“Maybe it was an unconventional way to handle it, but I appreciate that you stood up for me. Your reaction shocked me out of what would have turned into a panic attack” Kid explains.

“I could tell you were uncomfortable, and those brats should have just kept their damn mouths shut!”

Kid laughs and sits down on Asura’s bed opposite him.

“I realized too, maybe I haven’t been acting too brotherly with you. So I want to actually talk to you and understand you more” Kid tells Asura.

Asura freezes, unsure of what to say. He opts for a few small nods.

It’s uncomfortably silent for a moment.

“So… hm… do you know how to skateboard?” Kid asks

“I’ve never tried it before. That seems like a lot and how badly could you get hurt if you fall?”

Kid huffs out a laugh and stands again, motioning for Asura to follow him.

“Come on, let me teach you what you’re missing out on”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.

A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.

“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”

Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”

“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”

“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.

“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.

“Dull?”

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.

“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.

“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”

“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”

A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.

Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.

“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”

Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”

“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”

“That is?”

“I love you.”

Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.

A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.

The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.

A ratio Anthony was not fond of.

“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.

Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”

“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”

“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”

“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”

“Her name is Jane Austen.”

“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”

“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.

“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.

Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.

You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.

Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”

Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.

Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.

“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”

A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.

As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.

*****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Church (Choi San) Rated

Pairing: Choi San × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, College AU, Friends to Enemies(?), Enemies to Lovers (?)

Summary: He used to be her best friend until he abandoned not only his childhood beliefs, but her in the process. One night, he decides to show her a glimpse of what she's been missing out on. Inspired by Chase Atlantic's Church .

Word Count: 6.3+K

Warnings: Mentions of religious beliefs, brazen college parties, allusions to alcohol/nicotine intake, body insecurity (reader has small breasts), oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, body worship/praise, slight cumplay, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (always use protection), slight corruption kink, inexperienced reader, experienced San. (Probably forgot something)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @brie02 @deja-vux @a-soft-hornytiny @multidreams-and-desires @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie

╬╬═════════════╬╬

The infamous rebel let out a pernicious snicker when he saw the serene and usually proper former acquaintance walk in his direction.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really the pastor's prissy little daughter out past her bedtime in a college party?" He found the situation much too amusing that he just had to point it out.

"I have a name you know." The female he was referring to halted in her steps to turn her head and give him an unkind and unfriendly look.

"You have several, actually. There's goody two shoes, priss, prude, prig-"

"Oh shut the fuck up Choi San." She scoffed as she began walking away from him, already feeling annoyed by his presence.

The man trailed after her, his face donning a shocked expression as he flailed his arms around in a dramatic way.

"Guys it's happening! The apocalypse is really here if L/N Y/N has not only attended a wild party full of debauchery, but her mouth has actually uttered out cursed words!" He shouted out, the other attendants either joining in laughing at her or ignoring him in favor of the bottles or sticks in their fingers.

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." She turned to look at him with a mocking smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Please, I know a lot more than you have ever pretended to know." He clicked his tongue, elbow coming up to rest on the wall next to him.

"Is that why you turnt corrupt and abandoned everything you believe in?" She couldn't help but spat back at him.

"Hey at least I was honest and didn't hide it like you people who lead double lives. Preaching one thing but living the total opposite. You're all nothing but a bunch of hypocrites." The venom in his voice was unmistakable, nose scrunching up in disgust as he remembered gross sins he had more often than not had witnessed from people who claimed to be pure and holy.

"I do not lead a double life." She remarked.

"Oh really? Then why the hell are you here in a college party? Full of alcohol, drugs and walking STDs? Riddle me that princess." His foot tapped against the floor, patiently awaiting an answer from her.

Y/N swallowed the non existent lump in her throat and turned her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. Just once." She admitted begrudgingly, the man in front of her chuckling lowly.

"Well you sure are going to have a lot to confess on Sunday to your dad. Silly girl, walking into the lion's pit like this." He jeered at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because I came here doesn't mean I've done anything morally wrong." She counteracted his words to which he only snorted.

"Yet."

Tired of his overly obnoxious attitude, Y/N spun on her heel to get away from him, but she spun so carelessly and fast that she ended up bumping into another classmate who unfortunately was holding a full cup of beer that ended up being doused all over her white blouse.

"Oops! Sorry, my bad." He excused himself, looking completely unapologetic about the situation.

Meanwhile Y/N looked absolutely horrified as she took in the drenched state of her shirt that now had the stench of alcohol on it. The fact San was bursting out in giggles only served to make her even more mad.

"Now tell me how do you plan on explaining that to dear old-"

"Can it San or I swear I'll gauge your eyes out." She threatened him as she stormed out the building, not caring that she bumped into a few figures on her way out.

Feeling just a bit of empathy for his old friend, San sighed softly before following after her. Upon catching up to her, he took hold of her wrist and started dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me! I will not hesitate to scream!" She tried tugging her arm away.

"Calm down I'm not planning on kidnapping or anything like that sweetheart. I'm taking you back to my car."

She let out a dry laugh at that.

"But that's not kidnapping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a spare shirt in the backseat that you can change into. Unless you wanna go home smelling like PBR." He looked back to see the mess one more time, lips curling up into a smirk.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to take her all the way where his car was parked, standing there quietly as San rummaged through the backseat before taking out a clean plain white tshirt and held it out to her.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked at him with a face that asked if he was stupid.

"Well what?" He asked.

"Oh yes..I'm totally going to strip in a middle of the street and let anyone passing by see." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake, there's nobody here, nobody is going to see and frankly I don't think anyone cares about seeing your non existent boobs." He scorned at her as he gestured to her chest.

"Ok rude and uncalled for." She felt slightly hurt by his comment, having always been somewhat insecure about the size of her chest.

"Don't look." She warned him.

"Not like I want to." He jeered at her as he turned away to not only give her privacy, but to also serve as a lookout for anyone that might accidentally show up and see the scene. He could hear her behind him tearing off her clothes and then slipping it back on.

"Ok there. I'm done." Y/N announced as she stuffed the soiled shirt into her bag.

"Not even a thank you?" San pouted slightly, to which Y/N gave a feigned smile.

"Thanks."

With that said and done, she brushed past him and started walking away, absolutely done with the night.

"Careful not to get caught sneaking back inside your house." She heard San say from behind.

"For your information I'm not living with them anymore. I moved into the dorms 2 months ago." She stated in a matter of factly, a proud look on her face.

"Well in that case....want to ride back with me?" He offered.

"Yeah no, I'd rather take my chances at being kidnapped and then butchered up. Besides, I wouldn't want to cut your wild night short." She declined the offer.

"Stop being so negative Nancy and accept my generosity. Geez."

Running over to her, he quickly snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shocked exclaims and protests.

"Now this is really kidnapping!" She declared.

"Yeah I know, now shut up before I duct tape that bratty mouth of yours." San grinned mischievously as he tossed her into the backseat and shut the door before striding over to get on the driver's seat.

"Oh come on. Stop looking at me like I'm a criminal. Just because I indulge in a few sins every now and then, doesn't make me into a bad person." He stated when he saw the dirty look she gave him.

"Whatever." She muttered as she locked in her seatbelt.

San opted for just driving back to the dorms and get Y/N tucked in her bed since it was clear to him she needed it.

╬╬═════════════╬╬

"You're lucky my roommate is on vacation, otherwise I would have left your ass back there." Y/N spewed out as she threw her keys onto her dresser.

"Thanks Y/N, I always said you were the nicest and most giving person in the planet." San complimented her as he felt he should given she was letting him stay the night in her dorm after a little tiny incident with his keys dropping inside one of the manholes surrounding the university. And the administration office wouldn't be open til the morning, meaning he was screwed unless his roommate showed up to let him in, but that was a definite no since San knew Seonghwa would definitely end up in someone else's bed and come back til the next day, hickeys plastered all over his neck and chest.

"No, you always said I was the most stuck up-"

San shushed her by pressing a hand over her mouth.

"You dwell so much on the present image of me you drew up in your head that you completely erased the friend you had all those years ago." He slid his hand off her mouth, shoulders slumping down as he turned away from her to crouch on the floor.

"That friend doesn't exist anymore, that is if he even existed in the first place. If I recall, my friend wasn't into parties, booze, vaping, tattoos, piercings and fucking around with every whore in the school."

San didn't say anything as he heard her ramble, he just let her talk away as she started pulling out spare blankets and pillows for him to use.

"My Sannie was sweet, cute, adorable, always ready to lend people help and respectful to others." She reminisced with a sad look. Pulling her expression straight, she laid out the blankets and started arranging them neatly on the floor.

"I still am."

San's voice was so quiet that she barely registered that he even opened his mouth in the first place, but she heard him.

"Maybe if you weren't so puffed up with pride and didn't cut me off after I cut ties with the church, you'd see that I'm still the way I was. You think I changed completely because of ink and metal on my body? Because I wanted to try certain substances and yes, satisfy some perfectly normal and humane needs?"

Y/N averted her gaze from him and continued the task she was in. San let out a despondent scoff.

"Of course you do. And yet didn't I just demonstrate to you back there that I haven't changed? Giving you my shirt, giving you a ride, yeah I know, it's not much and no big deal, but wasn't those the types of things I'd do even back then?"

Y/N's tongue poked against her cheek as she knew she couldn't deny that was San said was absolutely true. He did nothing different back at the party as he used to do years ago. Helping old ladies with grocery bags, giving away some of his clothes to less fortunate kids, he was always known as being such a giving and kind person.....

No wonder so many were devastated when it was announced he had resigned as a member of the church. Y/N herself was hurt and even indignated by his decision. And after that she adamantly refused to see him or talk to him, and of course San respected her decision and avoided contacting her so as to not make her uncomfortable. He understood that their friendship was broken and he wasn't going to overstep boundaries just to try and fix it when the other party didn't want it. So he just decided to live his life as he thought was right without his conscience bothering him. And he was much happier now, he felt free, something that he had never felt before. Perhaps he was so chained down by formality, discipline, strict regulations and even fear that he didn't realize that he was miserable all that time until his eyes were fully open and he found he didn't like what he saw, especially after seeing the dark and ugly side of what was supposed to be a safe and pure sanctuary. He was let down severely and he suffered in the process. But now that was behind him and he had no regrets......

Except Y/N. He truly missed her and her company. As he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor, he found himself unable to sleep as he recalled all those fond times spent with her. The trips to the lake, hiking, first day of school, their first accident after he had gotten his driver's license. He let out an involuntary smile at that memory. Unbeknownst to him, the girl on her bed was equally reminiscing on the old days filled with her best friend. She had been so alone ever since she distanced herself from him, the world now feeling empty and cold without him. Shifting around in her bed, she whined into her pillow as she desperate tried to sleep.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Her question startled San momentarily.

"Are you that sleep deprived that you're suddenly asking me to confess my worst sins?" He chuckled amusedly.

"Maybe it'll help me get actual sleep, I don't know. And.... I'm just curious." She clutched one of her plushies and started messing around with it.

"Curiosity killed the cat and I don't think your virgin mind will be able to handle my confession." He asserted confidently.

"I'm not a virgin, but oh well. Just tell me, what's the worst?" Her casual response made San flip out. He sat upright and kneeled at the front of her bed with an incredulous look.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin? When did you-?" He was so flabbergasted he wouldn't even finish his sentence.

Rolling over to where he was, Y/N smirked at him.

"Uh uh. I asked you a question first and you have to answer it before I can answer any you want."

Knowing he had no alternative, San placed his chin on the top of her mattress.

"Had a threesome with 2 of our professors." He laughed when he saw how shocked Y/N looked.

"What?! No way!" She refused to believe him.

"It's true. I won't tell you who they were since you won't be able to look at them the same way if I did...... I'll just dish this: they both got really huge tits and it's a shame they're married." He admitted with a smug expression.

"I can't believe you." She fanned her face which she was sure was now a deep crimson color.

"Ok now your turn. When did this happen? Who was it with?"

Y/N didn't even mind that San got up and crawled into her bed to lay down next to her. His face was rested on his hands as he looked at her with intense inquisitiveness. Knowing she'd have to talk about it sooner or later, she thought it would be best if San was the one to know since he would never tell anyone else and he'd understand since he was tainted as well.

"Remember when that group of missionaries came to stay over at our city for a while back in high school?"

San nodded, vividly remembering everything. Y/N blushed and smiled shyly.

"Do you remember that there was a family with a son our age? Chase?"

San widened his eyes and flopped over on his back as his hands came to hide his face.

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it was that Canadian boy." He groaned in pain.

"Yeah....yeah it was."

San couldn't stop cringing at the thought of his friend doing such a thing.

"How even did that happen?" He was so lost.

"I don't know! It just did ok? It happened while we were out in that camping trip. Somewhere there, we were left alone and we started talking about everything and nothing til it spiraled into talking about sex and us being virgins decided to see what was the big deal....." She bit her lower lip as the memory flashed in her mind. Looking over at San, she knew he was judging her as she expected. A tiny snort escaped his lips.

"That must have been the worst 45 seconds of your life." He joked, earning him a slap on his chest by Y/N's hand.

"It was not 45 seconds!............. it was 2 minutes."

San only laughed harder at that, nearly crying from how funny it was to him. He composed himself though when he saw how embarrassed Y/N looked about it. Feeling bad for laughing at her expense, he cleared his throat and patted her head.

"It's ok. First times are always awkward and uncomfortable. The problem was you weren't prepared and you were both inexperienced. He just didn't know how to please you."

Y/N couldn't help herself as she asked:

"And I suppose you can?"

Flipping onto his stomach, San cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip.

"Don't tread on dangerous territory little angel lest you want an evil demon to corrupt you." He warned her, and although he wouldn't actually follow through on it, he did want to tease her a little. But he wasn't expecting for Y/N to play along to his teasing, only she was not joking at all as she brought her face closer to his.

"Maybe I want you to corrupt me, show me what I've been missing out on." She brushed her lips against his, tongue daring to poke out and press on his slit briefly, leaving him stunned.

"You have no idea what you're asking for princess." San mused as he held himself back from touching her.

"I know what I'm asking for Choi San and what I'm asking for....is you." She responded with confidence.

Escaping from underneath the blanket that covered her, Y/N reclined back on the mattress, her head laying on her soft pillow as she gestured for San to come over to her, which he promptly did. Parting her legs so he could fit his body between them, he smirked softly down at her eagerness, fingers brushing against the soft skin on her thighs.

"You're serious about this?" He wanted to make sure it wouldn't be something she'd regret.

"I already messed up once, what's one more time gonna do?" She pulled him down against her, not caring when he lost balance and accidentally crushed her under him with his muscular body.

"Besides...." Wanting to further entice him, Y/N brushed her lips against his ear.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want to fuck me. That you don't want to stuff that hard cock of yours into my tight and inexperienced pussy. Bet you're itching to tear into me until I'm crying under you. Don't you want that?"

San let out a moan at hearing such filthy and depraved talk from her. It only fueled his appetite and hunger for indulging in carnal desires.

"Yes... I want that.... I want you."

Closing space between them, San molded his lips over hers, encasing them in a sloppy and wet kiss. Y/N could faintly make out the leftover scent of alcohol and nicotine as she let him taste her mouth, but she didn't mind or felt grossed out by it. She just kept her lips parted and allowed him to move his tongue freely inside her. Cupping her cheeks, San continued to roll his tongue over hers, massaging it gently with both deep yet gentle strokes. When he pulled away, he made sure to tuck her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it towards him as Y/N let out a moan that was like music to his ears. Pausing briefly, their lips were barely touching as they breathed in each other's air. San was the first one to break into a smile, the one that had Y/N melting since it displayed his dimples to the fullest.

"Never thought I'd hear that sound come out of your pretty mouth." He teased her.

"S-shut up." She frowned, hand reaching up to smack his chest.

"It's not a bad thing. I like it. Now let's see if I can make sure you keep them up."

Stuffing his face into her neck, San ghosted his lips across her skin, tongue subtly poking out solely to hear her breath hitch slightly. Dipping his tongue into her collarbone, his lips opened up so they could firmly latch and spread wet kisses across her neck. Y/N gasped when she felt teeth sink down, head tilting back to give San more room which he took advantage of. Focusing on particular spots that he knew she was sensitive in, he sucked her skin into his mouth. Each time he pulled away, he reveled when he saw the finished mark that was now painted on her skin.

"I would love to see your parent's reaction to my love bites." He brushed a fingers across the newest spot he just embedded in her body, hand then reaching up to suddenly clasp around her neck. Y/N shuddered when his grip got tighter, her oxygen intake getting cut and making her feel hazy, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. Snaking a hand under her shirt, or more like his shirt, San swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he started to pull the material up.

"How about I make some matching ones all across your pretty chest?"

Before he could lift the shirt any further, Y/N's hand clasped around his wrist, preventing him from moving any further.

"Don't." She begged him.

San retracted his hands away from her, fearing he made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized and began to move away from her, but Y/N's hands raked against his thighs to keep him in place.

"No, it's not you. It's just..... if we're going to do this, can I keep the shirt on? I don't...." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she admitted an insecurity of hers.

"I don't like my chest. My boobs are too small, it's unflattering and I'd rather you not see them." She slowly opened her eyes to see his reaction. San had a sad look on his face, bottom lip poking out as his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. Remembering what he had previously said back in the parking loyal, he felt terrible for saying that ill intended joke about her body. He probably hurt her and he didn't realize it.

"Y/N don't say that. Your chest size doesn't matter. You're beautiful the way you are and I bet underneath that layer is clothing there is the cutest and most adorable set of boobs in the world." She let out an involuntary giggle at his words, letting him run his hand down her clothed sternum.

"But if that's what you want, I'll respect it. Either way, my tshirt looks amazing on you." He acknowledged rather cockily.

Shifting further back, San took hold of the top of her shorts, making sure to look at her.

"Are you ok with these coming off?"

Y/N resisted the temptation to slap the top of his head.

"If you don't take them off, how are you going to fuck me genius?" She retorted.

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned." He uttered, mostly to himself than at her.

Like an expert, he practically tore her shorts down her legs, panties falling to the floor along with them. Y/N let out a soft squeal when he took hold of her thighs and brought her down so his face was at eye level with her most intimate part. San took a few seconds to admire her bare mound, lips parted and threatening to start drooling all over her thighs. Pressing both thumbs against each one is her lips, San pried her folds open, staring intently as he now clearly saw all of her.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna need to prep you real good. I can tell you're going to be really tight."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by prep, but her words got caught in her throat when she felt his tongue delve into her core. She had never felt someone's mouth anywhere near her folds and she regretted not having experienced it before. Her eyes shut tight as she marveled at the sensation of San's tongue lapping at her bud, his lips making sure to enclose all around the flesh surrounding it before giving it gentle suckles. Shaky breaths blew out from her mouth, her legs wanting to close themselves around San's head but his firm grip on her thighs kept it from happening. He kept her knees pinned to the bed as his mouth continued to ravish at her taste, sloppily consuming her heat fervently. Her mind was so occupied in what he was doing that she didn't register the hand that slowly crept away from her thigh until she felt something poke at her entrance.

"Oh-" She gasped, opening her eyes to see what was going on.

"Relax princess. It's just my finger.....for now." He momentarily pulled off her heat to let her know what was happening before diving back in to continue his task of eating her out.

His finger inside her felt a little weird at first, sliding in slowly before pulling out only to plunge itself back into her. During one of those times where she expected him to slide back in, she was surprised when she felt herself being stretched out as San curled a second finger inside her. Keeping them lodged there, he began scissoring them alternatively so he could further spread her walls apart. During one of those movements, his fingertips brushed along her hood, making her hips slightly jolt up into San's face, who smiled against her folds as he now knew exactly where to angle his hips for later. Using this new knowledge, that was probably unbeknownst to Y/N, he slipped his fingers deeper into her, knuckles deep as he moved his tips rhythmically on the the spot he found. Y/N's mouth fell wide open into an 'O' as whiny gasps and airy moans poured out of it. San's mouth latched to her clit and his fingers working deep in her hole was producing a stirring in the lower pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite make out. But it felt good, especially since it continued to grow more and more, almost as if it was a cord about to snap.

"San- wait. I feel, I feel-" She couldn't finish her sentence as her body trembled slightly, a flood of overwhelming pleasure washing over her that was prolonged by San drinking up the juices that spilled forth out of her body. He didn't pull away until he made sure to swallow every drop she had to give.

"Aren't you grossed out?" She asked him, always having wondered about that.

"Nope. I love licking girl's pussies, especially if they're as sweet as yours." He affirmed while pulling his shirt off his body.

Y/N turned her flustered face away from him, keeping her gaze locked on the wall to her right, which was decorated with several polaroids of her with her family, friends and members of her church, some of them even had San in them, back when they were inseparable. Before she could become nostalgic, a strong set of hands clutched her chin and teared her gaze away from the pictures, forcing her to stare at the now naked man in front of her.

"Forget about that for now. Right now I want your full attention on me and what we're about to do. After we're done, that image of a good girl you have will gone." His words seemed to almost taunt her.

Although she tried not to look, Y/N's eyes fell in between San's legs, filled with astonishment when she glimpsed for the very first time at her former friend's member, fully erect and leaking at the tip as it awaited to be hugged by her warm walls.

"Like it? Maybe later I'll let you play with it." San giggled when her eyes shot up at him in surprise.

Placing himself to hover above her, he hummed lowly as he slowly stuffed himself inside her, working her open until he was fully nestled inside her warmth. Although she felt a light burn scraping against her inner walls, it wasn't unpleasant or painful like her first time. She could tell San knew exactly what he was doing as he began rolling his hips. Perfectly recalling exactly where to aim at, he made sure to angle his thrusts accordingly so each time he pushed back in, he'd hit her pleasure spot.

"Oh God-" Y/N exclaimed when he continued to brushed against the hood of her core.

"Really think it's a good idea to call out the good lord's name when I'm balls deep inside your pussy?" He asked with a malicious smirk plastered across his face.

"No baby. Tonight your only lord is me."

Pinning her wrists above her head, San continued pushing his cock deeper into her. The harsh pounding of his hips against hers was becoming louder, their bodies starting to get heated and producing sweat. Y/N couldn't do anything but whimper and wrap her legs around San's waist, keeping him firmly locked to her body. She closed her eyes once more as she felt the same familiar feeling from before start piling up, only it felt more intense and stronger probably due to the fact that she was getting railed to her bed by her ex best friend, whom she still cared about deeply. She was definitely not planning on making up with him this way, but holy hell, she couldn't deny that he was making her feel so many emotions at once. Pleasure, lust, satisfaction, happiness, euphoria, love? Perhaps that last one was definitely a stretch, but she blamed her confused thoughts on how well his cock was abusing her hole. She felt unable to focus on anything except him.

"Clenching so hard around me babygirl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock?"

Slipping one hand in between their bodies, San pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth so it would serve as an extra push to tip her over the edge. Y/N splayed her hands on San's lower back, nails raking against his skin, causing him to hiss.

"Fuck- am I seriously making you feel that good babygirl?" He knew for a fact he was feeling absolutely amazing, her tight warmth gripping along his shaft, making it hard for him to hold back much longer.

"Mmm yeah." She shamelessly moaned.

"Am I better than your first?" Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to feed his ego and hear her say it.

"So much better! It feels so fucking good." She inhaled sharply when that she began to feel the sensation from before. With even louder cries from before, her body shook underneath San's, blood rushing to her head as an even greater orgasm coursed through her body. She was left speechless, a full on panting mess even after San had pulled out of her after helping her ride out her high.

"Oh geez. Shit." San's voice rasped out as he jerked himself off, his cum painting her thighs white, not stopping until he had finished coating them with everything he had to give.

Looking down at the mess, Y/N couldn't suppress a tiny giggle, one of her hands clasping over her mouth while the other picked up some of his cum and spread it between her fingers.

"Having fun there?" San grinned, finding her fascinated gaze to be completely adorable to him.

"Yeah.." She said as sat up to get a better look at the cum around her thighs.

"Well I was going to clean it off you, but seeing as you're so entertained by it, I'll just leave you with it."

Not forgetting that he was merely a guest, San slid himself off her bed and plopped his tired body onto the blankets on the floor. Closing his eyes, he was thinking he would finally be able to sleep, but he found his plans thwarted when he felt a pair of hands graze across his chest. Looking up, he found Y/N straddling his lap, biting down on her lower lip as she grinded her wet folds along his softened dick which was now becoming hard again thanks to her.

"What in the world are you doing you crazy girl?" He sucked in a breath, not expecting her to suddenly pounce on him.

"I wanna try that again." She pleaded, grinding her hips harder on him.

"Oh my- did I accidentally turn you into a nymphomaniac?" She chuckled at his joke and although he groaned as if he was frustrated, he obliged to her wishes and sat up.

Clasping her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and guided her so she could easily sink herself down on his length. Not letting go, he slowly rolled his hips up, burying himself deep in her body once more. Since they were both still riled up from their previous session, it didn't take long for both of them to start spewing out a clutter of moans and grunts as they once again get lost in a mist of lust that clouded their minds. San drunk up every expression on Y/N's face. Every twitch of her facial muscles, every shuddering breath she exhaled, each time her eyelids shut close, he marveled at seeing her enjoy the experience. He loved seeing her indulge in such an intimate practice with him, more so given how special she was to him, one of the most important people in his life aside from his family. Looking down at her torso, his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt.

"Please...." His urging caught her attention.

"Please let me see all of you. I want to admire every inch of you and your beautiful body. I promise I won't laugh or judge. I just want to worship you."

Y/N hesitated briefly, still afraid to let him see what was hidden under the shirt.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I won't force you." He shot a kind smile at her as he focused back on making sure to drive his cock up into her.

Feeling safe and knowing she could trust her lifelong friend whom she thought of as a soulmate at one point, Y/N reached for the bottom of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Coming face to face with her bare chest, San groaned in ecstasy as he slid his hands up her body.

"Just as I predicted, you have very cute breasts."

Pulling her chest to his face, he opened his mouth and took one of her nipples in it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. Y/N's fingers raked themselves through his hair, harshly tugging them when she felt his teeth sink themselves into her flesh.

"Aren't they too small?" She inquired.

Letting go of her breast with an audible pop, San cupped her chin.

"No baby, they're absolutely perfect. They're gorgeous, just like every other part of your body. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning and holy fuck, you're driving me insane honestly." He confessed, his mouth diving into her other breast so it wouldn't feel left out from being tenderly kissed and sucked on.

His words sunk deep in Y/N's heart. He really did found her beautiful, attractive and it spurred something in her. Feeling a newfound passion, Y/N unconsciously began taking over their movements. Pushing against his thrusts, she began to set her own pace, rutting herself on top of his dick. San of course took notice and was happy about it.

"Oh wanna take over now baby? Well go ahead."

Laying back down on the floor, his eyes stared up at her with lust.

"Fuck yourself on me darling."

Encouraged by him, Y/N began bouncing herself on his cock. Finding an angle that she liked, she sunk down on his length over and over, her head thrown back as she used his body to push her down another spiral of immense pleasure. San just relaxed and admired the way she lost herself and gave into her deepest desires. He loved the way she rode his cock, and he loved feeling her walls tighten once more around his shaft.

"Oh shit- Sannie." She cried out his name as she quivered on top of him, her juices spilling out onto his cock once more.

Knowing fully well she was probably aching between her thighs, San gripped her hips and helped her ride out her climax so the feeling she was going through wouldn't go away just yet. He made sure to be gentle, easing her up and down his cock with absolute tenderness. Once he knew she was satisfied, he pulled her of him and set her down on the floor before sitting up above her body. Just like before, he took hold of his cock and began pumping his cum out of his body, plastering it all across her inner thighs and even splattering some on her stomach. Looking up, Y/N had the same giggly expression as before.

"Does my cum really make you burst into a fit of giggles?" He questioned her.

"I can't help it. It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact it's so dirty and wrong, and then to have you spread it all over my body." She explained, which made San chuckle.

"Maybe I should baptize your thighs with my cum more often." Although he was joking, Y/N was more than willing to take him up on that offer.

"Will you?" She looked up at him with puppy eyes.

San studied her for a moment, before a wicked idea popped in his brain.

"How about you let me baptize and stain that pretty face of yours?"

Getting a hint of what he meant, Y/N got up on her knees while San stood up right in front of her, cock in hand as he brought it up to her lips.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to morning services tomorrow because I'm going to keep you up til morning until your knees hurt."