#another fic title i have been waiting to use forever lmao

[yoongiaahh]

First Day - Me or Him

title: first day

series: me or him

pairing: yoongi x reader(f), namjoon x reader(f)

genre: love triangle ; rating m (18+)

summary: as you and your best friend start the first day of senior year you realize you have no classes together. you don't like people and stray away until someone catches your eye in class, not only that but you're assigned to sit next to each other. this is not how you wanted to kick off the first day of school… will feelings bloom? does your bestfriend approve?

note: hiiii this is my first fanfic so im really nervous lol. i decided on a series because as i was writing my mind was RACINGGG lmao i had so many ideas and didnt want it to be forever long. so i hope youll stay along for the ride. please let me know how you like it! im trying to work on my writing skills so any tips are appreciated :) as for the fic its gonna be spicy but itll be a slow burn so dont get your hopes up lol i want to give you a good taste of the characters before jumping in. i wanted to keep this chapter pretty short to begin so we can leave off with a little cliff hanger SORRY itll be worth it i promise! im also new to the tumblr writing scene and still figuring out the controls AGAIN tips appreciated! thank you <3

warnings: none YET

estimated total wc: 1.6k

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Your alarm is much louder than you're used to. Not that it matters, you had woken up a whole two hours before it went off.

It’s the first day of your senior year, you can hardly keep your smoothie down due to the rumbling pit of nervousness in your stomach. As you are pacing the room waiting for your brother to come bursting through the door you get a phone call. It's Namjoon, your best friend since middle school and suddenly you feel a little better about how the rest of your day is going to go knowing he’ll be right by your side.

“You ready? I'll be there in five.”

“As ready as I'll ever be Joonie.” You say with a smirk and major sarcasm wondering how you landed a friend so opposite from you.

“Perk up, it's our senior year… what could go wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever see you soon.” Hanging up the phone quickly you grab your bag and run down stairs. You practically plowed through your brother as he was running up to make sure you were ready.

He’s pissed you can just tell by the way his eyes bolt directly to yours.

“Are you fucking kidding me, I had the courtesy of coming to get you and you repay me by messing up my hair.” His words come out like an avalanche as he immediately runs to fix what you supposedly messed up, yet it doesn't look like one strand fell out of place.

“Tae maybe instead of worrying about your appearance so much you can put more effort into school this year.” You scream through the house.

Your brother is a year below you and a complete douche. It comes across your mind more than ever how the two of you can be related. He's the king of his class, making new friends every day while you have had one friend for the entirety of the time you've been in this city. You’ve never really had the want or need to have anyone else than Joon, and you’re glad you havent had to share since he’s never kept another friend besides his gaming buddies.

Joon finally arrives at your driveway. As you're walking out the door you remind yourself there's only one more year of this hell you've been going through for the past three years. You atleast need to get through today, leave your worries for tomorrow and do your best.

The car ride to school lifts your spirits as you listen to Joon gawk about all the clubs he wants to enter and all the classes he signed himself up for. You’re happy for him but not at all what you are thinking about at the moment. Playing your favorite tunes through his amped speakers you reflect on the amazing summer you had and wish that it never had to end.

Gathering your things you and Joon walk up to the bulletin board to check what classes you got put into. Just as your morning got better all the nervousness you had earlier hits you like a truck. You don't have a single class together with him, which in the five years of knowing each other has never happened.

Immediately you both turn your heads in shock. You knew one day this would happen but why the first semester of your last year. You're sweating bullets not knowing how you'll get through today without him.

Trying to make you feel better, Joon offers to switch a class in hopes the teacher would approve.

“It’s alright Joonie, you already said how excited you were for the classes you picked and you got into all of them. I’ll manage somehow.” As soon as you say it you regret it. He would definitely switch if you had just agreed but you don't want to hold him back.

“Well we still have lunch together so just keep your cool till then.” His smile is the nausea pill you wish you had.

He wraps you up in a hug, letting you know everything will be alright. Once separated from the embrace you needed you make your way to your first class of the day.

The bell rings and students come piling in to take their seats before the teacher starts going over the plans for the semester. Writing everything in your notebook to keep your mind off this lonely day that has just started.

It’s not that you don't like school, you actually very much enjoy it and have always kept good grades. You’re just horrible at conversation and not much of a people person to begin with.

Joon and you had been paired together for a project way back when, which is how you and him ended up being friends. He is a very straightforward person so making conversation with him was never an issue, and you actually had quite a bit in common. He could clearly tell you were shy so to say the least he started most of the talk between you two. Once the project had been turned in everyone had returned back to their chosen seating to sit with their friends and you were surprised to see that he chose to continue sitting by you. Since that day you had been inseparable.

Lunch is finally here. Classes fled by quick since it was mostly introductions and receiving your sylbasses. Your backpack feeling like a brick from the textbooks you gathered you make your way to the cafeteria. You quickly find Joon and walk up to the line to get food.

“So how’d it go? Make any friends?” Joon snickers as he says the last part, knowing you all too well.

“Oh yeah I actually already have a new best friend so I guess i'll go sit with them.” Turning your head pretending to look for someone as Joon lets out a laugh. You spin around to smack his arm knowing he saw right through your mockery.

“As much as I would hate to be replaced, it wouldn't kill you to make a friend or atleast find someone else to talk to.” Nudging your shoulder as he says the words.

“I’m good with my small circle, thanks”

You both go back and forth with how the day has gone so far. He couldn't go on enough about how happy he is with his classes, which makes you forget the regret you had earlier about his offer.

The lunch bell goes off so you both clear your trays and head out to the hallways. Study hall is next for you so the nerves have suppressed as you know you can put your earbuds in and tune out the class. Joon gives you a wink and lets you know to meet back at his car when the day is over.

Heading to your locker to put the stack of textbooks you received away you get a text.

JoonieBug🪲🤍

Fighting❤️

Whatever loser❤️

You giggle as you put your phone back in your pocket and head to your class.

“Hello class, I hope your first day of senior year has been great! As you all know, study hall is your hour window to get caught up with your work or take a breather and relax before heading to the rest of your classes.” The teacher says much too loud for your liking. “I have put a seating chart together in hopes everyone can meet some fresh new faces. Please follow this chart as it is part of your participation grade.”

Great.

The last thing you wanted was to meet ‘fresh new faces’.

You grab your assigned seat and whip out your airpods in hopes that the person who's placed next to you takes the hint and stays to themself. Though to your surprise the bell had rung and the seat next to you was still vacant.

As you get out your syllabi to scan and send to your mother you hear commotion at the front of the class. You take out an airpod to see what is going on and you're taken aback when you see a boy with bleached blonde hair rolling his eyes as the teacher is complaining to him about being late. You don't know why but there are butterflies in your stomach as you look at him. Retracting your gaze he turns to meet your eyes. and the butterflies only get worse as you see him heading to the seat next to you.

He throws himself down in the seat and you can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. You don't know why your body is reacting this way.

In all of your other classes you had gotten a seat to yourself luckily but that wasn't the case here.

Hoping he doesn't notice your face looking like a cherry, you press play on your phone and get back to sending the photos to your mom.

“From the way you look you either really didn't want someone sitting here or you must be absolutely enthralled that I’m the person to sit here.”

You barely make out the words as you throw your head around to look at the all too cocky boy taking up the seat next to you.

“I-I don't know what youre talking about.” Turning away with a flushed face. Your mind racing wondering why he would even spout out those words.

“Yoongi”

“What?”

“My name silly, I’m Yoongi.”

“Oh okay”

The smirk on his face is absolutely annoying. You want to slap it right off his face.

“So do I get to know your name?” The smirk slowly turns into a grin as his eyebrow cocks up.

“Alright class, enjoy the rest of your day, I’ll see those bright faces tomorrow.” Your teacher says as the class ending bell goes off.

You have never gathered your things into your bag with such haste. Not realizing you left your notebook on the desk you throw the bag over your shoulder as you dart out the door to get anywhere but that classroom.

[delta-piscium]

WIP Weekend/WIP Wednesday

thank you so much for tagging me @steves-strapcollection @starryeyedjanai and @sidekick-hero (and @thefreakandthehair right when i posted this lmao) <3

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

THE WIPS

(and bad summaries because idk how to summarize, also i might change my mind about things so.. tentative summaries)

if you want to send more than one ask then please do because I need to write (may complain loudly)

blatantly making [DnD character’s] backstory a steddie fic: fuckbuddies to lovers with some running away in between and being bad at dealing with feelings, just starting out rockstar Eddie and Steve studying to be..something (undecided)

cringefail vampire eddie (beloved): Vampire Eddie (i mean obviously) a little bit based on this post but very expanded on, just the trials and tribulations of vampire life

steve holds hands while fucking (eddie is in the trenches): Eddie and Steve sleep together to escape everything (or Eddie assumes so) but Steve has sex like that and it's a whole thing because how is Eddie even supposed to exist in a world where Steve Harrington holds hands while fucking him?

meddling and forced proximity (can't run anymore hehe): both of them moved away from Hawkins and haven't seen each other in 3-4 years, mostly because Eddie started avoiding Steve (but no one else), the younger teens drag both of them along on a trip, and well, there's forced proximity and meddling

THE SNIPPET

from "meddling and forced proximity (can't run anymore hehe)"

Steve knows if he relaxes even the tiniest bit, lets some of it out, the dam will burst. He’s spent years carefully securing it, making sure everything’s locked in tight. And now because a boy is looking at him he might destroy it all. He tenses his jaw, closes his eyes, and tries to clear his mind. “I-“ he begins but is interrupted by the door slamming open behind him. “There you guys are,” Nancy's voice says and then the sound of her soft footsteps follows as she steps into the room, “I’ve been looking for you guys forever.” Eddie doesn’t respond, and when Steve opens his eyes he isn’t looking at her either. His gaze is still locked on Steve, eyes big and pleading. Steve turns away from him towards Nancy, plasters on a smile. She won’t see how strained it is because it’s the same smile he used during their relationship. “Sorry,” he makes his way to the door, “lost track of time, let’s go back.” He grabs her arm and pulls her with him as he leaves.  “You coming?” He calls over his shoulder to Eddie but he doesn’t look back or wait for a reply.

not tagging anyone because I think most people are doing it or have been tagged but if anyone sees this who hasn't been tagged consider yourself tagged now <3

[sephmonet]

January’s Reading List

I promised myself that i would keep tabs on all the things I read this year, both on and off tumblr. Also - this shines light on some amazing authors that I’ve come across and don’t want to forget. If you’d rather not be tagged (because if you’re on this list, it means im legit reading every fic you pump out LMAO) please let me know!

This one is starting off mostly as a backlog, because I should’ve done this earlier... Oops.

also i can’t, for the life of me, ever recall fics off of the top of my head.

This is in no particular order other than what I can find off of my blog and my pc tabs - i have 3 million open at all times.

The Last of Us

abby love spell by @ohcaptains

 This abby x reader fic is literally the first I’ve ever read because I def wasn’t an abby stan. This entire fic is perfection from head to toe, legit smutty perfection. The longing, the desperation, the banter is just so great and I can’t recommend this one enough.

miss sunshine by @nexusnyx

I’ve read a lot of Joel fics, being a longtime Joel lover. (Seriously, I’ve been in love with this man since I was 13.) This one is my all time favorite, hands down. I love the dynamic here, I love how the author takes the characterization of Joel miller and makes it better. I especially love that Sunshine is a nickname given to her by him and not Sarah.

Everything here is perfect for me. No qualms. I read it every couple of days.

Call of Duty (MWII)

yours to keep by @mvtthewmurdvck

In lieu of authors turning me onto characters that I never thought I’d like, this one is divine. Definitely helps that they accidentally used my actual nickname but, even without it, this fic is just so deliciously sexy and real. I could write paragraphs on how much I love this story.

Softly by @littleferal

This Rudy fic accompanies another two amazing fics, but this specifically highlights Rudy featuring a little bit of Ale. The Las Almas boys are so well done in this authors hands. They truly nailed how gentle and attentive a lover Rudy can be. The sugar and spice dynamic of Rudy and Ale is perfection here.

Simon Says & Daddy’s Home by @emomanswhore

For these to be their only two fucking fics on this site, holy shit.

Author came out that bitch SWINGING. I remember these two fics being the first real ghost x reader that I felt really strongly about because its the first time I ever really got into a reblogging stint. Ontop of a black coded and bratty!reader, Gods. These two stories keep my horny ass up at night. Point blank.

“its so hot when you talk back” by @gh0stswh0re

Speaking of smut that keeps me up at night.. this is some toe-curling stuff. I love brat tamer!Ghost so much. This author captures his filthy fucking mouth so well.

Untitled Konig Drabble by @luxuryberzatto

Listen... Between Konig and Price.. those two are fighting rn for White Boy of the Month for me. But this drabble??? I think i’d have to let Konig have the “Bear” title. Just this once.. author made him begging sound so sexy.

Her heart was the most Beautiful Thing I Ever Broke by @day0walker​

This is an ongoing Price series that I just can’t wait to really dig into. I’ve read the first few chapters and, I have to say, Im afraid this might become one of my favorites for my main man. Perfect, so far, in every way. The banter is top tier.

Price’s Masterlist by @yeyinde

Literally feeds us so much. The Price girlies are forever in this authors favor. Everything they write for that man is so delicious, so fucking ambrosial that i’ll literally put down what Im doing to read what they’ve written for him.

Ghosts and Mirages Masterlist by @stararch4ngelqueen

Still ongoing series, but its so good. Nothing has fed me more than this series for Ghost right here. It’s quite literally a masterpiece. I’ve never felt more emotion for a series than this one right here. PERFECT.

Misc. Characters

Blossom Dearie by @nymphlamp

Carmy is SO good in this Authors hands. So perfect. This fic turned me into such a carmy girl that it isn’t even funny and I should actually go to a therapist about it. Such beautiful writing. Also another black coded!reader <3

Morning by @write-and-buried​

This is a Dieter Bravo fic and.. Whew lord this, and the second part of it is sooooooo fucking hot. I still haven’t seen whatever movie this is yet but by Gods does this fic make me want to dive headfirst into it.

The Fire in Your Eyes Series by @flamehairedwritings​

such a good series for Aurthur Morgan. So well fucking done with so many emotions. Beautiful and meaningful writing.

Off of Tumblr

Safe House by Alternate_Alien

Another ongoing price fic... but Bodyguard!Price dealing with a bratty!reader??? Cmooooon now. Its too good.

Lady of Rooksgrave Manor by Kathryn Moon

Reverse harems are such a guilty pleasure of mine. This turned me into a monster fucker.. Im not sorry.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

scars and stories

prompt: scars

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi! this fic is weirdly not very whumpy...it’s much more like...Thinking and Talking and not hardly any pain at all which is So not my brand but this is how it ended up. i hope that you like it despite the fact that, for a fic written for a whump event, it’s really not so whumpy at all lol. (title from champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends by fall out boy)

Renard has been at the hospital for six hours now. At first, it had been stressful, but he’d had company. They’d all shared in the anxiety and the fear of Nick being in the hospital - again - with a very large, very bloody stab wound in his stomach. And then a nurse had come out and they’d all stood up in unison, and he’d given them one look and taken a step back like he was worried they were going to attack him, then delivered the good news. Nick was okay, stable, and sleeping. And then the bad news - visiting hours were up. 

Renard had managed to talk his way into being allowed to stay until Nick woke up (one of the perks of being a police captain), and the rest of the group had insisted that he provide them with updates as they had made their way out the doors. They’d also half-bullied, half-begged the hospital staff to let them stop by an hour before the visiting hours resumed the following morning. 

And now, Renard is here, by himself, sitting in a chair while Nick sleeps in the hospital bed next to him. It’s odd seeing him so still, paler than normal with several small cuts and scrapes on his face and an IV in his arm and a pulse monitor on his finger. 

“He’s alright. I know you’re well aware of that, but it’s worth repeating, anyway. He’s a real fighter,” says a voice from the doorway. Renard looks up in surprise, instinctively reaching for his weapon until he realizes it’s a doctor. In fact, it’s the doctor who is responsible for stitching Nick back up. He relaxes, slightly sheepish, and lets the man continue.

“He’ll have another new scar to add to the collection, though it’ll hardly be his worst. I have to say, I’m…well, impressed sure isn’t the right word, but…I’ve worked on plenty of cops before. Your detective here has more scars than any of the others, and I’ve operated on lifelong officers, thirty year veterans, the works. Detective Burkhardt has them all beat.”

Renard doesn’t know what to say in response to that. It’s not surprising that his young detective - young Grimm - has scars - he’s been shot and stabbed and in countless fights, and frankly he’d be more surprised if Nick didn’t have scars. It’s more the fact that he apparently has so many - enough to impress a doctor who creates scars for a living. 

And what’s more, Renard realizes, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen any of these supposed scars. Nick is virtually always wearing long sleeves and pants, and his face and hands have somehow avoided being badly hurt. 

Before he can do too much more thinking on the fact that he’s worked with Nick for years and never seen any of his scars that he can recall, the doctor says, “I’ll be on shift until four, if you need anything.” He leaves the room, giving Renard a wave goodbye, and then he’s alone again.

Renard gives Nick another once-over. He still looks as pale and vulnerable as before, and his right arm is poking out from under the blanket with an IV sticking into the skin. He doesn’t want to touch the arm and risk pulling the needle out, so he instead carefully untucks Nick’s left arm from the blankets. Just to see if the doctor had really been telling the truth (though there’s not any reason for him to have lied). 

There are a couple of scrapes, clearly from this most recent fight, and a few small, faded scars. Most of them are short, thin. Grazes from knives, maybe. There’s one near the inside of his elbow that looks like a bite. He’s about to push up the sleeve of the hospital gown, where he can just see the edge of what looks like something jagged and deep and painful on Nick’s upper arm, when Nick moves and makes a soft noise, and he quickly pulls away before Nick can wake up and ask him what exactly he’s doing. 

Nick wakes up slowly, blinking around and looking down at himself and the hospital bed, clearly completely confused. He winces softly as he sits up, putting a hand to the spot on his stomach where Renard knows several fresh stitches are holding him together.

“What…?” he asks, voice soft and scratchy, as his eyes finally land on Renard. 

“You were stabbed,” Renard reminds him. He passes over a small cup of water that had been left for him by a nurse at some point. “You lost quite a bit of blood. You were in surgery for awhile, and you’ve been asleep for the past few hours.”

“Oh.” Nick looks at him with a kind of questioning expression, and Renard pretty easily works out what it means. 

“It’s the middle of the night. The hospital staff allowed me to stay, as a police captain, but visiting hours are long over.”

There’s a look of…surprise, mixed with something like gratitude, on Nick’s face. 

“Why?”

Renard shrugs. “It’s confusing enough waking up from surgery after being stabbed. And more confusing if you’re completely alone.”

Nick hums softly in response, his eyes starting to close. Renard doesn’t want to keep him awake, but he is also a bit curious, and his detective is…uninhibited, thanks to the pain medicine he’s currently on, and he may not get a chance to ask again. So he goes for it.

“The doctor who operated on you told me you have more scars than anyone he’s ever seen.”

That wakes Nick up. His eyes open fully, and make contact with Renard’s. “What?”

“I’ve just…never seen them. You’re always wearing long sleeves, and we’re not exactly the kind of people to talk about…anything like this.”

Nick shrugs like it doesn’t matter at all. “Yeah, I’ve got scars. Part of the job.”

“Which job?”

“Both, I guess. Mostly the Grimm stuff. Y’know, my Aunt Marie was covered in scars. I never knew until a doctor told me, when she was here, before she…”

Scars run in Nick’s family, Renard realizes. Physical, emotional…being a Grimm takes its toll over the course of a life. Has already taken its toll on the man in front of him, who has only been a Grimm for a few short years. 

“How bad are they? The scars.”

Another shrug. “Some are big. Mostly they’re small. I don’t know, I don’t pay much attention to them.” Nick looks down when he says this, his left hand picking at the edge of the blanket. “Guess this will be one of the big ones.”

“It will,” Renard agrees, matter-of-fact. The injury itself had been bad, deep and long and jagged, and he’s sure the new scar, right across Nick’s stomach, will serve as a very prominent reminder of this particular event. (He’s also pretty sure it won’t be the only scar - getting stabbed tends to leave more than one kind of mark, but that’s a talk for another time). 

“Do you have any scars?”

Renard shrugs, not entirely surprised that the conversation is now turning towards him. “A few. Mostly from my time serving as an officer. One or two from Wesen-related incidents. Nothing close to what you have, though.”

“It is kind of a lot, isn’t it?” Nick asks, and he sounds as though he’s never really thought about this before. As though he’s always accepted this - this pain, these scars - as something that is simply a part of his life. The thought makes Renard equal parts angry and sad, and he looks away from Nick for a moment and decides to change the topic of conversation to something a bit lighter. He’s hounded Nick with enough questions for now, he decides (though he also decides that they will be picking this topic up again at a later date).

“How’s your -” he starts, looking back at Nick. Who has fallen asleep again, still pale and not himself, but peaceful, now, too. “Never mind,” he finishes. Lighter topics of conversation can wait.

Renard stands from his seat by the bed, and before he can think the better of it, reaches out and pulls the blanket tightly around Nick, tucking his left arm back beneath it. He lightly touches the side of Nick’s face. “Sleep well,” he says softly, then sinks back into his chair and waits for the morning to arrive. 

thanks for reading! hope you liked this despite it being not my usual sorta thing lmao. anyway i wanted to write this when i rewatched the first couple eps and a doctor asks nick if he knows about aunt marie’s scars. it got me thinking like, nick should have scars too what with all the shit he’s had happen to him. so i decided to write it and give him some :) may revisit this concept later...who knows.

[retrievablememories]

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

--

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

--

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

--

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 

--

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

[yesimwriting]

hiii, this might seem weird but do u have any head cannons for when the reader is pregnant and how the Darkling would react?

a/n love this concept,, it's not weird at all!! i feel like there's so much here!! also i leave for college this month and im lowkey starting to freak out so ive been watching star wars movies for comfort 😭and now i have half a mind to write for them, especially the prequels (cough, cough,, anakin) 😭 😭 that should tell you where i am mentally

anyways lets get into the headcanons:))

--

- okay so like most of my headcanons, this is probably going to be all over the place bc i feel like so many different things could change how he would react. Like if the darkling x reader have been trying to get pregnant, or an unplanned pregnancy with someone he really likes, i also think whether or not the reader is a grisha affects his reaction too

- in general though, i think he'd lowkey have a breeding kink he'd def find something about the thought of you having his child really attractive bc for one thing, he wouldn't have to worry about being left alone and now he has an excuse to be a real 'protector'.

- also if youve read my other headcanons i am 100000% convinced that he has this thing where if he really likes someone he needs them to need him (let's all remember the whole 'i will strip you of everything you know and love speech until I'm your only shelter' speech he gave to Alina)

- also i kinda want to write a fic or blurb series or something that's just the darkling being super toxic in super thoughtful ways LMAO if that makes sense, like he's being super sweet but it's to make sure the reader is dependent on him

- and he def wants to be the protector to give himself some sense of assurance bc he's so desperate to not be alone anymore and bc the reader is the only person he has/loves, he wants to feel in control and like he's the less attached one

- okay,, let's get back to the pregnancy thing, anyways, your pregnancy is most definitely activating all of those senses and this was meant to be a sub plot but it kind of became it's own thing lol

- so lets get to the actual pregnancy reaction

if you two have been trying to get pregnant:

- when you tell him, he kind of like, pauses bc it's not every day that he gets surprised so it takes him a moment to register that he's experiencing shock lol, so he tenses and goes islent

- and then after he realizes that he's surprised and that it's bc of a good thing, he manages to relax

- meanwhile you're kind of freaking out bc he got so quiet?? you start to wonder if he's regretting ever wanting a child with you? and you're like two seconds away from a downspiral and then he...

- he touches your cheek and looks at you in a way you've never seen him look at anyone,, not even you

- the look is so warm and strong and full of fierce admiration that you feel foolish for ever thinking he didn't want this. And then he says something about how you're carrying his child and how he didn't realize he could adore you more and then he kisses you and it's all :)) warm:)

- he doesn't want anyone to know that he's expecting a child as long as possible bc of how many enemies he has and how he has to worry about you enough when people just know that you're his 'lover' (a title you never really liked, but one he tells you is necessary to make sure no one realizes the extent of his attachment)

- if you really want to tell your mother or someone of that relation, he won't be mad about it, but he just needs to know

- Genya is the only exception bc the darkling basically instructs her to look out for you,, but when you tell her she's like oh?? you guys just found out?

- miss girl most definitely noticed like a day and a half ago after you cried bc she couldn't find you ice cream the other night 😭and she just assumed you knew but weren't ready to tell anyone

- okay so this what i think is his most problematic expecting father trait would be. So i just ranted about how important secrecy would be to him but he's also the most overprotective person in the entire world,, like he was bad before but once he knows your with child?? yeah, if a man asks you about the weather, he's done for

- he's next to you in a second, ordering either you or the man to do some asinine task

- if you get mad about this (rightfully so) or even just point out how nothing is wrong and you having a casual conversation with a man who isn't even looking at you sexually won't hurt you or the baby, he'll lose rationality

- it depends on how much you push, but it'd be super easy to make him super possessive bc like i said, being bonded by a child has made him so much more intense (and he was pretty intense before)

- and if you push too much he'll lowkey forget about how cautious he's trying to be with you and pin you against the nearest wall and say something along the lines of 'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it.' (AH--i want to write a whole fic based on this line)

- also if the reader is grisha, especially if she's a sun summoner/special grisha like him, he def talks about the power that they've created and how proud he already is and how he can't wait to train together and be the most powerful family in the world

- not everything is perfectly happy though, bc now he feels more pressure to complete his plan and establish the world he wants his child to be born into

- so sometimes when he's working extra hard or is extra aggressive for no reason, you have to work at calming him down and reminding him that the best thing he can do for his child is be there for them (and the child's mother,, lol)

- sometimes he'll respond by actually listening to you and trying to make up for his absence or his aggression by being extra soft until you finally forgive him

- you never last that long, it's hard to be mad at him when he's coddling you and whispering such sweet things about he's so happy to have you and your future child

- overall, his first reaction is to swell with emotion, which he isn't used to, and so he becomes super protective but also extra lovey and you know that his overreactions are just him trying to show that he cares about you and your future child more than anything

If the pregnancy was unplanned:

- the initial reaction is pretty similar, only his state of shock lasts longer

- like i said at the beginning, he's not used to being surprised and an accidental pregnancy is so much more surprising than a planned pregnancy

- this really sucks for you bc he's not exactly known for his patience so you just kinda sit there and genuinely wonder if you're going to be a single mom or if you're going to want to deletus the fetus or something

- but then he takes a step towards you and you see how he's looking at you and you just know that that fierceness has to mean something good

- and at this point you're scared and nervous and feel so alone so tears are pricking at your eyes,, so he wipes his thumb across your cheek to wipe away tears you won't let spill

- he then whispers something really sweet about how you two are now together forever, as you should be

- it's really relieving bc you felt so alone and uncertain and he's such a smooth speaker that by the end of the night, you feel like this is a good thing

- if youre still hesitant/weighing your options, he's not above trying to (gently) manipulate you into thinking that what he wants may be the only way

- by that,, i don't mean outright tricking you bc he means everything he says, but he def is pushing the keeping the baby agenda,, especially if you're a grisha,, and even more so if you're a grisha with similar power levels to him

- he won't get angry at first bc he's not so out of touch that he's unaware of how shocking a pregnancy is to a woman who wasn't planning one,, but his patience is limited and if you fight it too much he will get mad and yell

- but unless you really don't want to have a child, it won't get to that bc he makes the idea of having a baby with him sound so perfect?? like you genuinely don't understand how he did that

- he chases away all of your worries and assures you that youre not alone and that even though it isn't planned he wouldn't rather anyone else carry his child

- the initial conversation would probably end in you two sleeping together again bc he finds the fact that you're carrying his child so attractive and bc being aware of the pregnancy makes him more possessive

- it's also a good way to fight any of your doubts

- speaking of being possessive though,, i feel like he could be a little more possessive/protective of a reader who didn't plan on getting pregnant bc your relationship has been less established

- no one sees you as anything to him and he doesn't want to start rumors now bc it's important to him that his enemies don't find out about you or his future child so he doesn't want that to change

- but he almost forgets about all of those reasons each time he sees a man get a little too close,, especially if that guy is flirty

- it takes all of his will power to not just go 'she's mine and if i wasn't worried about the stress that witnessing something violent would cause our unborn child, you'd be dead already, but if you're not gone by the time i turn around, i'll forget about caution'

- lots of close calls ngl!! at one point youre like 'if it bothers you so much, maybe you should tell someone??' and he's like 'no,, maybe,, shut up' and then you raise one eyebrow and he just closes his mouth and is like 'i mean,, i'll kiss you to shut you up, haha--dont be mad'

- youre the one that's pregnant but sometimes you think he might be the one experiencing the mood swings i swear 😭

- so your little theory gets tested,, he's not the type to gossip with his besties and be like 'guess who's officially my girlfriend, i knocked her up but it's not like it sounds--'

- so he's like ig you can tell genya

- once again genya is like ?? yall thought you were keeping that secret? couldn't be me

- but having it a little out in the open helps ease him just enough that youre actually capable of consoling him when he becomes jealous

- still though,, he's quick to go into possessive/pregnancy kink sex

- youre most def not mad about it,, unless pregnancy has you particularly sore

- he's normally pretty understanding about that and def doesn't mind pulling his weight in the bedroom when he needs

- honestly he'd be really good at being a source of calmness at the beginning, but as time goes on he becomes more and more worried about finishing his plans bc he didn't expect to have a child right now

- so he'd be more adamant about working/becoming more tense and would be more difficult to console if it was an accidental pregnancy

- when you call him out on it--or on anything while your pregnant--it's frustrating for you both bc the number one thing everyone knows is stress is bad for baby, so he's trying to keep you calm without backing down

- these argument always end with one of you clinging to the other,, and then the more angrier of the two just like shuts up, rolls their eyes, and lets go of the argument...at least for now

- the main difference between an accidental and intentional pregnancy would probably be how you perceive him,, bc an intentional pregnancy means youve talked about things but since you havent talked about anything your shocked about how soft he becomes ??

[sovtwords]

a king and his pawns

pairing: kita shinsuke x reader x miya atsumu warnings: 18+, royalty!au, threesome (M/M/F), bisexuality, anal, double penetration, hand jobs, blow jobs, doggystyle, kissing with cum, dom/sub undertones, fluff, established relationship w/c: 7.7k a/n: -AO3 LINK HERE- This is a little side-story thing I wrote for a royal!au I haven't actually gotten around to writing yet so WELP. It's fine tho, this was written for Kita's bday and he deserves it. LOVE YOU!! This fic features men engaging in sexual acts together so if that ain't your cup of tea then feel free to back out if you're uncomfortable! I'm bad at writing smut anyway, you'd probably be doing yourself a favour lmao. Regardless, enjoy!! Please lemme know what you think.

Kita Shinsuke was stressed. It’s not often the King loses his cool, but it seems as though life wishes to taunt him this week. Trade with Corvus has momentarily stopped due to an internal dispute meaning the Kingdom will be low on textiles for the unforeseeable future, a sudden drought has put the crops at risk, and Ginjima continues to test his patience with every new raid on the homesteads just outside of the kingdoms border - not within where Kita can arrest him, but close enough to be a thorn in his side.

He’s so very tired and so very alone, and everyone sees it as they convene for weekly meetings. They eye him with worry, yet he shrugs off every word of concern with the grace as befitting his title, though his Masters of War and Prosperity respectively eye him the most, the worry so potent on Lady Miya’s face he feels a warmth blooming in his chest. She even dares to lay a comforting hand on her king, and he allows only her to disregard her courtesies (not that she would ever forget them) and touch him. It’s nice to be treated well.

The meeting ends, and Kita is so close to retiring to his balcony to rest for a while until he notices that the happily married couple stay. “Ya alright there, Kita?” Atsumu asks, opting to drop all formalities and talk as friends like when they were younger. Kita’s glad for it.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and knows it wasn’t very convincing with the way they stare in disbelief. “Things are just tense right now. I’m sure we’re all feeling it,” he elaborates. Lady Miya takes his hand in hers once more, small fingers gripping tightly onto his. He keeps his eyes trained on them.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to burden this alone. It’s why you have your council. And you don’t have to hide anything from us. We’re here to listen to you, my King, so please – share your worries with us, so that you might feel better.”

Ah. His heart clenches with affection, and a soft smile grows on his face when he looks at the earnestness in your gaze, thumb idly stroking your fingers and momentarily forgetting that your husband is still in the room, sitting just to his left. But it’s so easy to forget that when his attention is focused on the right of the table, when Atsumu himself hasn’t said a word when normally he would screech if anyone dared get chummy with his wife, King or not.

“Thank you, my Lady. It warms my heart to know that you care so deeply,” he says carefully, pulling back with a quiet sigh. “But I’m fine, truly. I find that reading the books that you gifted to me helps me to relax.”

“I know another way ya might relax,” Atsumu interrupts before his wife gets sucked into a long conversation about stories.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s something more suited for behind the doors of your chambers, if ya catch my drift,” Atsumu smirks, while his Lady looks appalled. Kita feels the tips of his ears burn but keeps his expression as stony as ever.

“That’s crude, Atsumu. And you know that I’m averse to…” he trails off awkwardly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. Atsumu laughs.

“I know ya don’t take concubines. But that doesn’t stop ya from reading the spicier books in the library, does it?”

“What’s yer point, Atsumu?” He asks bluntly. Better to get whatever trick he has planned over and done with. The blonde smirks, eyes shifting between himself and his wife.

“Was just wonderin’ if ya wanted a private show, that’s all. My Lady here makes for quite the spectacle. Just a way for ya to destress.”

Lady Miya gasps loudly, a blush burning on her face as she stares at her husband in complete shock while Kita’s heart stalls in his chest.

Watch his friends while they… No. That’s a boundary he should not cross. No matter how many times his eyes have slipped downwards to where your chest is pushed upwards by the corsets of your newer dresses, or how smooth your neck looked when you lean over to discuss reports with him, he…no. Such intimacy should belong in their bedroom, not his. Right?

“Atsumu, that's not a funny joke. You should watch your mouth and apologise to your wife for embarrassing her“

“Hold on now, your highness, she didn’t say no.”

Kita blinks. Looking to where she sits, he sees the obvious humiliation on her face, clear as day as the heat on her cheeks. But with it, a look of conflict, a spark of curiosity in your eyes when they lock with his.

“I…If it pleases my King, then I don’t mind. I would do anything for my King,” she says resolutely, and the way your voice grows airy every time she speaks of his title sends sparks straight to his groin. He swallows harshly, opens and closes his mouth a few times as he feels the heat of Atsumu’s smirk boring down on him. It had definitely been a while since he’d done anything of that nature, but… was this really ok?

It’s silent for what seems like forever. Eventually Kita calls out to the servant standing outside the council room.

“Find the largest chaise you can find and have it delivered to my room. I want it there by tonight.”

God’s above, save him. He was really going through with this.

- - - - - - - -

Night has fallen, the castle is quiet.

He doesn’t know how he should act. It seems as though nobody except Atsumu knows how to act, if the way Lady Miya sits with her back straight as a pillar and arms folded politely in her lap was any indication. Atsumu lounges against the chaise in front of Kita’s bed with a drink in one hand and fingers twirling through the sash of your robe in the other , waiting for either Kita or his wife to make any sort of move, though it seems as though their nerves have gotten the best of them.

“Shy, Kita?” the blonde Lord asks. Kita gives an embarrassed furrow of his brows, but stays quiet. Atsumu chuckles. “Well then. Does my King agree to let me be the one in charge tonight?”

How treacherous of Atsumu to ask, but with no real idea on how to go about this, Kita relinquishes control with a mute nod of his head. Better to let Atsumu take the reins than for him to accidentally cross a boundary he was unsure of. Atsumu downs his wine in record time, and moves to place it on a nearby dresser before returning to his Lady. He takes hold of your face with such reverence and love that Kita has to look away and swallow down the bitter jealousy swirling like bile in his gut. He hears Atsumu whisper some reassurances to you, and nimble fingers undo the sash around your waist.

You stand up at Atsumu’s request, and he takes your spot on the chaise, posted in front of the King for his viewing pleasure. “Didn’t want ya to miss this,” Lord Miya says, and swiftly loosens your robes, letting them pool around your feet and laying bare your silky and soft flesh for Kita to see. Dark eyes rove over plump breasts, wide hips and thick thighs, and he’s convinced that no concubine in the world could ever compete with the beauty standing in front of him, made all the more sweeter that you’re a coveted treasure by your husband, making Kita the only other man to ever see you like this. It makes his cock twitch in his breeches, and makes Atsumu smile devilishly because he knows the effect this is having on his superior.

Your gasp alerts him to the fingers that have slipped between your legs from behind to cup your sex, brushing against the light hair that Kita wants nothing more than to bury his face in right now. “She’s as sweet as a peach, this one,” Atsumu coos, pressing all the right buttons and gifting Kita with moans and sighs that Angels would blush to hear. “As wet as one, too. Let’s show King Kita, shall we?”

Without prodding you sit in Atsumu’s lap and allow him to spread your legs wide, and the candlelight makes the slick gathering on your cunt and thighs glisten, Kita’s brain faltering at the sight. His body grows hot with want, with need , and he nearly rips his shirt off of his body, composure slipping with each second that passes. Atsumu offered to let him watch, but now he’s not sure if he’s content to be just a bystander.

You hum and squeal when Atsumu pushes two of his fingers past your folds, pushing in and out at a gentle pace that you’re no doubt familiar with as he prepares you for greater things to come. “Yer so quiet, Kita. Are ya not enjoying yourself?”

The Lady  looks at him then, a gentle pinch to her brows. “Are you…not satisfied with me, my King?”

Atsumu flashes an exaggerated pout over your shoulder. “Yeah, my King. After exposin’ my wife like this for ya, is she not enough?”

“She’s beautiful,” he chokes, clears his throat but it has little effect with how thick with lust his voice has grown. “She’s perfect.”

The smile on your pretty little face does funny things with his head.

“Ya hear that, my love?” Atsumu holds you close and rocks you side to side. “The King thinks yer beautiful. I dunno if many ladies can say that. Say thank you.”

“T-Thank you, my King. I’m honoured,” you grin. Kita gives you a small smile in return, though it falters at the edges when Atsumu catches you off guard and thrusts his fingers into you with great speed. It sounds wet and hot and Kita’s hand wraps around the bulge in his pants, stiff and begging to be touched, especially when the usually composed Lady Miya in front of him whimpers and pants like you’re in heat, moving your hips in sensual ways and locking eyes with Kita to steal the air from his lungs.

“A-Atsumu!” you gasp, wrapping a hand behind you to grasp the hair of your husband, but the smirk stays on his face, enjoying your plight. “Be gentle!”

“You love it,” he shushes you, planting kisses on your neck and biting down on your shoulder when you grow too rowdy. “Besides, we promised King Kita a good show, didn’t we? I have to prepare ya, don’t want ya cryin’ because yer tight hole wasn’t ready to be filled.”

You moan loudly when Atsumu brushes over your clitoris roughly, small hands moving to cover your mouth, and it’s the final push Kita needed to remove his trousers and take his cock in hand.

You watch in silence as he undresses, eyes immediately zoning in on the length and girth of his member, biting your lip for a different reason than when your husband removes his fingers from your core. Atsumu brings them up to the light to look at them curiously. They’re soaked from knuckle to fingertip, and when he pulls them apart tendrils of your slick keep them connected. Kita’s overcome with the desire to touch it, to touch you, see how you taste.

The smile Atsumu gives him sends chills through his body, as if his Master of War had read his mind.

“I think he wants a taste, my sweet,” Atsumu rubs soothing circles into your hip with his free hand, keeping his calculating eyes on his King. “What do you think?”

“The King can have whatever he wants,” is your answer, hiding a smile in your husband’s jawline while he laughs. Fuck, they were going to drive Kita insane. What surprises him even more, is instead of offering your pussy for Kita to lose himself in, Atsumu holds out his hand, like offering his fealty to the King once more as he had sworn so long ago.

“Then by all means, have a taste.”

There is a moment where it’s entirely too silent save for the heavy breathing Lady Miya is trying to get under control. A million thoughts run through Kita’s mind as his eyes flicker between Atsumu’s fingers, his childhood friends’ face, and the naked woman before him. It feels like entirely new territory, uncharted waters that Kita has only thought about dipping his toes into before running back out for fear of falling too deep into the water.

But in Atsumu’s eyes there's nothing but trust and desire, and in your eyes there's encouragement and adoration. His heart hammers in his chest, and burns with the overwhelming love and support from his closest. It makes his limbs move before his brain can catch up, leaning forward with his mouth opening while Atsumu’s grin grows wider, taking the digits in his mouth before hesitation can settle.

It’s strange, to suck on your best friend’s fingers, long and thick in his mouth, calloused from years of sword fighting as his tongue brushes against the pads of his fingertips. He can barely taste the saltiness of his skin though, as your sweet juices invade his senses like a summer wine, pure and sweet like the woman they came from. He grabs hold of Atsumu’s wrist when he makes to remove them, licking and scraping his teeth on them in a way that makes Atsumu’s breath hitch with widened eyes, and Kita mentally records it as a win before slowly releasing with a pop, lines of spit breaking the further away Kita gets as he takes his place on his bed once more, precum leaking from his slit.

It is Lady Miya who breaks Atsumu out of his trance with a gentle hand cupping his cheek and turning his attention back to the situation at hand. The smile on your face is light-hearted, if not mischievous, a gleam to your eye letting Kita know that you enjoyed what you just witnessed. “I think, dear husband, I’m ready to get fucked hard for the King.”

An impish grin blooms on Atsumu’s flushed face immediately at his wife’s forwardness. Honestly, Kita had never expected the Lady to be this way. You had always been on the reserved side, befitting your rank and lessons in etiquette. Quiet, polite, spoke when spoken to. If someone had told him a few years ago when Atsumu had introduced you to Kita when you were still giving the twins lessons in etiquette that he would be witnessing you in such a lewd position and answering all of the fantasies he had locked away, he would have almost laughed out loud at the absurd notion.

Funny how life works.

“Should we let his Royal Highness choose how I do it?” The blonde pushes his hair out of his eyes, and both Lord and Lady Miya look at him, eyes alight with interest.

“I…,” Kita clears his throat, brain bringing forth images of every position imaginable. He squeezes the base of his cock. Save it for the grand finale. “I want the Lady on her hands and knees facing me.”

That causes Atsumu to laugh in delight.

“Ah, takin’ her from behind, like mounting a bitch in heat,” he snorts. You pout at the language, but Atsumu kisses it away, lips pressing lightly against the bridge of your nose until you’re smiling again. “Never would’ve assumed ya liked it that way. Not very proper, is it?” Atsumu comments.

“Are you here to question your King on what he likes in bed, or are you going to deliver on your promise and show me somethin’ good?” Kita remarks.

Atsumu delivers another laugh as he lifts his wife off of his lap and places her onto the soft, cushioned chaise lounge as promised, knees spread apart and encouraging you to lean onto your elbows.

For a moment, as Atsumu undresses, he regrets not choosing a position that allows him to watch more closely as he enters in and out of you, but any complaints he has dies when Atsumu spits into his hand and rubs at his stiff member, lining it up with your entrance. Kita nearly cums all over his hand when he locks eyes with the woman across from him as Atsumu pushes in with a sigh of relief, no doubt seeking any sort of pleasure for his aching cock just like Kita. At least he has a pussy to bury himself in. King Kita just has his fist.

Your eyes flutter as Atsumu goes deeper into your tight cavern, groaning and furrowing your brows while you clutch onto the chair beneath you. You whimper when he bottoms out, and are only given a moment to adjust while Atsumu looks at Kita in question.

‘Shall I start?’, he seems to say.

Kita nods, and watches in perverse fascination as Atsumu rears his hips back and thrusts forward once more, making you choke on a scream as he sets a relentless pace, not holding anything back.

Your moans mix with yelps and screams of pleasure as your husband pounds into you from behind, round hands on soft hips and curls loosening from where they were pinned back on your head. Kita’s eyes stay glued to where your tits bounce with the force, hand finally giving him some relief and stroking his weeping cock, unwinding some of the tension in his shoulders and stoking the fire in his gut. He wants to reach out and fondle your chest, your nipples, but stays his hand, fear of crossing that damned boundary getting to him.

Atsumu is loud, he realises, almost as loud as his wife is right now. He groans and he growls like a wild animal, so overcome by the feeling of his Lady, of everything that she is, and praises fall from his lips like the water rushes down the mountain’s peaks.

“F-Fuck, yer so tight, I love it,” he grits, reaching over to grab hold of your chest like Kita wanted to do so badly. “So wet for me, for your King. Ya love getting fucked in front of him, practically beggin’ me for weeks.”

Kit almost feels as if he shouldn’t be hearing this conversation, but such crude words make him fist his cock faster, wet with precum and helping him ease the friction of hand to dick.

“A-Atsumu, I-”

“Don’t lie,” he laughs. He pinches your nippple roughly, and earns himself a gasp. “Every time ya called me yer sweet King, you were thinkin’ ‘bout him, too. Weren’t ya?”

You can say nothing, only look at your ruler with unbridled lust in your eyes. It’s getting harder to breathe now as he pumps his dick in time with his friend’s thrusts, entranced by the look on your face and Atsumu’s voice.

“Thought s-so,” Atsumu stutters when he rubs at your clit and you squeez hard. “Well, I’d do anythin’ for ya. Guess that includes fuckin’ ya silly in front of your King.”

Atsumu tsk’s and lifts your torso up so Kita can have the best seat in the house. Eyes stay glued to where they are connected, pistoning in and out of your walls and glistening with your slick. It brings forth images of wanting to get closer, let his tongue feel the both of them at once but it's so outlandish that it brings heat to his cheeks and pushes him closer to his release, chest heaving with exertion as everyone in the room reaches a crescendo like a symphony of sex.

That is until Atsumu stops abruptly, and it's so sudden and odd when the sounds of skin slapping cease that it causes everyone to lose their high, cooling down with irritation and impatience.

Atsumu's chest heaves air with great effort, yet his eyes are sharp as he regards his King.

"I think," he starts, easing out of his wife slowly, making you whine at the loss. "King Kita is lookin' a lil lonely. And it's our duty as his advisors and subjects to serve the King, right my love?"

You blink in surprise, when a smile curls at the corner of your lips, one that you definitely learned from your husband. Affection blooms on Atsumu's face at your reaction.

"We should give him a hand," the blonde declares, and suddenly he's carrying his wife over to the royal bed, laying you down gently against the rich, maroon satins and silks, hair splayed around you in rivulets like water. With equal parts curiosity and hesitation lacing his limbs, he moves further up the bed at Atsumu's insistence, coming face to face with you as you smiled kindly at him, lidded eyes and bottom lip plump from where you bite it.

He gives you one in return, one of the rare, genuine smiles he reserves for when he's with his closest and when he's happy. The sound of a throat clearing snaps his attention back to where Atsumu kneels at the end of the bed, cock bouncing against his lower stomach with every shift on the featherbed.

"Does my King allow us to do as we please with him?"

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he says yes, aching to feel the touch of something other than his own hand for once. Atsumu smirks.

“Wonderful.”

Moving closer, all three find themselves huddled in a circle of sorts, with two sets of eyes hungrily staring at him. Atsumu looks at his wife, and she stares right back. It becomes apparent to Kita then and there, that there is no imbalance between them. Though you may fold your hands when appropriate and open your mouth when addressed in broad daylight, though Atsumu’s words and hands guide you behind closed doors and you part your legs for him like a blossoming flower, they are, without a doubt, equals in every sense of the word. Atsumu gazes at you with such adoration it would give the poets something to sing about for centuries to come, and he is certain that if you were to give an order, Atsumu would bend and do it for you, no questions asked.

It’s funny - the Master of War and the Master of Prosperity; two things that could never work hand in hand, but ultimately make for a wonderful pair.

And it makes Kita’s heart yearn for even a drop, an ounce of what they share, for someone to look at him the way they do each other.

“Maybe I should give you some tips on how to go about it, my sweet,” Atsumu says, and it’s all the warning Kita gets before a large, rough hand wraps itself around his member. He jerks at the feeling, eyes wide at the blonde smirking before him, and he looks frantically at the Lady beside him who offers nothing more than a demure upturn of her lips.

“What are you doing?” demands Kita, but the words end in a choke when Atsumu’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock.

“I’m showin’ my wife how to please ya.”

“I-I think she w-would..” Kita has to stop talking to emit a whimper when Atsumu’s hand squeezes his dick. He swallows hard. “I think she would know how to please a man by now.”

“Hmm, yer right. She sure does know how to get me going, but…”

He removes his hand from Kita’s shaft for a brief moment to lift his wife’s leg, dragging a hand through your thighs and bringing it back to Kita’s erection, now slick with his wife’s juices and providing smoother friction.

“No harm in remindin’ her of the lessons. Watch carefully, love.”

It moves expertly up and down his length, knowing when to twist and squeeze, when to go fast and slow. Kita’s hips jerk up into Atsumu’s hand, unable to help the sighs and moans flying out from his chest. It feels good, so so so good, and a softer, more feminine pair of hands scrape gently over his chest, toying with his pert nipples and sending sparks straight down to his groin.

“He seems to like that,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the pulse in his neck. Kita is positive it must be ready to burst from his skin right now, yet still you suck and nip and paint his skin in the most delicate hues while your husband’s hand increases in speed. His other hand reaches down to fondle Kita’s balls, heavy and begging for release. Whines and whimpers grow louder as he approaches that sweet edge.

Atsumu hums. “He’s got a pretty cock, doesn’t he, my love? I bet you’re just drippin’ thinkin’ ‘bout it inside ya. Hungry for another man's dick.”

You shiver from your spot beside Kita, a hand scratching at his scalp and sending tingles down his spine, and a pink tongue poking out to lick at his nipples.

“P-Please…” Kita begs.

“Well, ’m hungry myself,” Atsumu continues, and swiftly dips down to take the head of Kita’s cock into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand never ceases its upwards and downwards motion. It's wet and hot, and the swirling of Atsumu's tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered is enough to make Kita moan aloud in surprise and pleasure. His face glowing red as he desperately thrusts into Atsumu's mouth but his brain is too clouded with lust to feel embarrassed at this moment.

His fingers grip onto rich bed sheets as he loses himself in the heat of Atsumu’s mouth, that mischievous tongue of his being put to good use and stroking the vein on the underside of his prick before bobbing up and down in time with his hand. It’s almost overwhelming, feeling tongues on different parts of his body but it feels glorious, to have these mouths worship and love him like he craves but never says aloud.

It feels like Atsumu’s mouth is barely on him for a moment before Kita is grasping onto the nearest things he could latch onto, Atsumu’s head of hair and your hand conveniently already in his, and he holds onto both for dear life as he cums with a loud and long groan, releasing into his friends mouth with surprise and twitching with the aftershocks when Atsumu keeps him in his mouth for a tad too long.

“T-Too much, please,” he stutters, and Atsumu takes pity on him for the time being, laughing at how wild and unkempt his King looks right now.

“I guess you’ll have to test out yer skills next time. Come here,” hands reach for his Lady’s face, and he lets drops of Kita’s cum still in his mouth fall into your own open and awaiting jaws, sealing it with a kiss that’s all tongue and wildness. The perverse sight of them sharing his fluids makes his cock twitch to life again with alarming speed, but it’s also the words echoing in his ears that stick with him.

Next time. Implying that this won’t be a once off thing, a strange night to remember for years to come.

It makes him hard in seconds, even after spilling his seed in his friend's mouth.

If the couple beside him are surprised at his recovery time, only Lady Miya shows it with a raise of your eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

“Do you wish for more, my King?” you ask, traces of his load shining on the corners of your lips. He stops himself from reaching over to lick it off.

“Yes,” Kita sighs, and his chest seems to deflate with the motion, his words needy and wanting. “Please - keep going.”

“What do you want? Anything for you,” your hand cups his face with such gentleness he could cry. How sad it must be, for the simple touch of a person could be enough to shake him.

“I n-need you, I want you on top of me-” he has to stop himself with a sharp intake of breath. Eyes wide with fear look over to where Atsumu sits, a uncharacteristically stoic look on his face that makes Kita’s anxiety flare up. After a moment of silent contemplation, he opens his mouth.

“Does my King command it?”

It offers Kita a moment to rethink his words, to retrace his steps before they were taken. And as he looks at the faces of his friends for any signs of discomfort, looks at you for clear rejection, he sees no hesitation or resistance in either of their expressions. Only eagerness, anticipation for what could come. It strengthens his resolve.

“He does,” Kita says, with the air and grace of the King in power he is. And Atsumu grins like that cat who got the cream.

“Perfect,” he sings. “Lay back, yer Grace. Let us do everythin’ for ya.”

Doing as told, Kita finds himself a comfortable spot against the pillows and cushions, cock resting hard on his belly and watching as Atsumu coaxes his wife to straddle his hips. Hands fly instinctively to the squishy flesh of your hips and thighs, smooth like satin, and his grip on you only grows tighter once he feels just how wet you are, practically dripping onto his lower abdomen. It drives him mad with excitement, knowing he’s seconds away from shoving himself into your tight hole.

“Go on,” Atsumu encourages when you look back at him in question. “I’ll help ya when ya need me.”

Biting your lip, you peer down at Kita.

“I’m ready,” he assures you with a squeeze of your hips. You reach down to grab his member and he hisses when you pump him a few times, dragging it up and down your soaked folds. He worries his bottom lip at the sensation, and just when he gets used to it you line him up with your entrance and begin to sink down on him, ever so slowly.

He loses the ability to breathe when your warm heat engulfs him. His eyelids flutter, his toes curl, and they haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. Atsumu hums in approval when you finally sink down, hips flush with Kita’s, sighing in unison. You can’t help the grinding of your hips, trying to accommodate his size and girth, but it makes him growl and still your hips. “Give me a second,” he pleads. And you do, leaning down to give him his first kiss of the night. He can taste himself on your tongue, taste Atsumu along with him, and your tongues tentatively brush and move against each other as you grow accustomed to the feeling of your lips on the others.

He catches his breath when you pull away, blinking out of a stupor, and it seems as though Atsumu has had enough with waiting, for he clears his throat loudly. “Ready to get started?” They both nod. “Good.”

With that said, Atsumu holds on tightly to your hips, hands over Kita’s that stay locked on your flesh, and begins to slowly lift you off of his cock, only to push right back down. Kita groans at the fluttering of your gummy walls around him, head thrown against the pillows while Atsumu increases the speed and pace with which he picks his wife's body up, getting you into a mindblowing rhythm and bouncing you on Kita’s member.

Atsumu certainly dictates the speed and rhythm right now, and the coil in Kita’s gut begins to make a reappearance with every clench of your pussy around him. You’re both at the mercy of Atsumu, who alternates between stealing the air from Kita’s lungs with bringing your hips down hard and fast, or slowly and maddeningly gyrating your hips so that Kita presses against every spot inside of you, massaging that sweet, spongy flesh hidden deep inside that has you gasping out a strange mix of their names and clawing onto Kita’s chest for stability.

“That feel good?” Atsumu asks. He’s met with a chorus of moans and whines from his Lady and his King, but he isn’t satisfied with that. “I said, does that feel good?”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” You gasp, and are rewarded with kisses and nips to your neck by your husband. Dark eyes peer at Kita over your shoulder, demanding an answer from him as well.

“Yes,” the white haired man grunts. “F-Feels so fuck- fucking good.”

“My, my! Our King has a naughty mouth. My sweet, how does his cock feel?”

Your moans are light and breathless when Atsumu rocks your hips back and forth. Your juices stain Kita’s abdomen, and he’s tempted to reach out and swipe some up on his finger to lick. “He feels so big! So so so big, it’s too much, it’s- oh!”

Kita is almost as surprised as you are when Atsumu guides his King’s hand to your swollen folds, showing him how to rub at your clit with practiced motions. You careen in response, hips moving erratically and crying about how good it feels.

“Tell him, not me,” Atsumu laughs.

“Oh, my King, my sweet King, you feel amazing. I love your cock so much, stuffin’ me full, I can’t take it, I love it I love it I love it!”

Your praise, your words, the heat of your cunt; it all goes straight to his head and his heart, and the coil in his gut tightens dangerously, ready to burst his seed into you and fill you up, but Atsumu has your plans before he can reach his peak.

Atsumu lifts your hips up one final time, but doesn't bring them back down. The disappointment in the room is immeasurable, denied a high once more when they were just so close to falling off the edge. Lady Miya whines loudly and impatiently, having been denied her orgasm twice now.

"I know, baby, I know," Atsumu coos, pets your hair and soothes the furrow of your brows. "But I was gettin' a lil lonely over here. I wanna join in."

Your eyes light up in question, staring at him questioningly and obeying when he orders you to bend over. Chest to chest with Kita, the King cradles you closely, brushes loose strands of hair out of your eyes, and allows himself a simple peck to your lips, one that you return with two of your own.

But you jump in shock when Atsumu spreads your cheeks apart and spits loudly onto your rear.

"Atsumu! You...you mean to-"

"Shh. You trust me, don't ya?"

"Always," she answers without hesitation, and the smile he gives you is warm and full of love.

"Then just wait," he rubs a finger over your puckered hole, spreading the spit and watching in fascination how it responds to his touches. He loves your cunt like a drunk loves his wine, but your ass is just as addictive. Really, any part of you is more than enough for him.

You bite your lip when a finger dips in, struggling to accommodate the invasive digit. Kita distracts you with more kisses, hands on your breasts, pulling at your hardened nipples and drinking in your moans like he's breathing in the fresh air of the morning.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, watching over your shoulder as Atsumu adds a second finger, pumps them in and out so carefully. The blonde reaches around to lightly toy with your clit - not enough to make you cum, but enough to make you relax and less restrictive. "He's lucky to have married ya."

"Shinsuke," she sighs into his own ears, and it sends shivers down his spine. It's very rare people can address him as Kita without his title, let alone his first name, but it sounds so beautiful coming from the lips of his friends.

"Yer doin' so well," Atsumu praises, free hand massaging the globe of your ass cheek once Kita’s clumsy fingers take over the role of rubbing your nub. "Stretchin' ya out real good. You want both of our cocks, don't ya?"

"I do, I want them so bad-"

"Think you can handle us?"

"Yes, please! God, Tsumu, I wanna be stuffed with both of your cocks-"

"Damn, you get loud when yer needy." Atsumu drags his erection through the folds of your pussy, gathering as much of your juices to coat his dick once again before he lines it up with your back entrance. "We'll take things nice and slow."

It seems as if Atsumu is reassuring more than just his wife with that statement, and Kita is grateful for it.

You bite down on the skin of his shoulder when Atsumu removes his fingers and presses the tip of his dick at your hole. You’re clenching hard and gasping at the stretch, and Kita works with Atsumu to soothe your cries and kiss away your tears.

He kisses your lips when you give a harsh wail as Atsumu presses in further, not even halfway in yet but groaning at how tight it feels. He spits once again where you're both connected while you twitch and sigh as Kita's fingers return to your swollen bud.

"Yer doing amazing, such a good girl," Kita peppers your cheeks with light kisses, and with one last thrust Atsumu is fully seated with his cock in your ass, glassy eyed and chest heaving with tension as he gives the pair of you a moment to adjust.

He bends over to lick and kiss a line up your spine. "Your turn Shinsuke." Kita stalls, wondering for a moment if you really are ready to take them both at once, but Atsumu mistakes his silence for hesitation. "Need help with that?"

Lord Miya reaches down to gently guide Kita towards your sopping hole, and he sucks in a breath as your hips lower agonisingly slow to sink down on him until both of their members are filling you to the brim.

You're a panting and whining mess atop of him, fighting to catch your breath whilst Kita fights to make sense of what he's feeling right now. He can nearly feel Atsumu press against him through a thin layer inside of your pussy, every budge of his hips making his chest tighten at the friction.

"Tell us when to move," your husband says. After a moment of getting used to the stretch with little twitches of your hips, you nod frantically.

"I'm OK, you can move."

"I'll let Kita do the honours," Atsumu smirks.

Lifting his legs higher up the bed for leverage, Kita gives an experimental thrust into your core. It feels so good when you clamp down with a whimper, and so he does it again, and again, until he's set a slow but steady rhythm and enjoys the look of pleasure on your face, the way you bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning too loud but failing miserably.

Gradually becoming more comfortable and succumbing to pleasure, Atsumu begins to move gently, pulling out slowly and pressing back in, so as not to disrupt Kita’s flow but your reaction is immediate, a sharp gasp and a whine for more, arching your back and trying to reach behind to your husband. He leans over to allow you to thread fingers through his hair, and begins to grind faster into you, trying to match Kita’s pace and intensity.

“S-Shit, yer so tight, yer... fuck-” he curses and stutters his hips. “God I love ya- I love ya so much.”

“Please, g-give me m-more!”

“My pretty little slut,” he coos, and you sob into Kita’s chest. “So- fuck, so fuckin’ greedy. You wanna get fucked hard?”

“Gods, yes! I want to be full of your cum, please please please-”

“S-Shit,” he swears, and Kita watches as the careful, calculated look Atsumu kept in his eyes all night suddenly turns wild, frenzied, just about ready to tear you apart like you desired. “You asked for it, pretty girl.” He gives Kita a look. “Ready?”

The King nods. “Ready.”

The blondes' lips curl up at the edges, and you’re only given a moment before both sets of cocks begin ramming into you with such great force that it has you falling on top of Kita, where he wraps his arms around your frame to keep you steady. Words turn into coherent babbles and cries as they piston in and out of you in near perfect unison, and it’s the friction Kita so desperately craved as your wet walls and Atsumu’s shaft rub him so deliciously that his orgasm rears it head once more, building so perfectly and steadily that he feels like he’s reaching Cloud Nine.

Kita unwinds one of his arms from around your waist to reach Atsumu’s ass to give the flesh an affectionate squeeze, causing him to meet Kita’s eyes over your head. Atsumu leans down to capture Kita’s lips in a sloppy kiss, one that’s more tongue and spit and passion than anything else, and the King barely has any second to catch air when he pulls away before your tongue prods at his lips, lips that he opens willingly like heavenly gates. And when Atsumu joins in again, and he feels two messy sets of tongues invade his mouth, one rough and demanding, the other soft and sweet, he can do nothing more than let out a whine and try to keep up with the wonderful sensations taking hold of his body.

He’s given some reprieve when Atsumu pulls back to sit up, grasping at your hips and fucking into you so fast you’re stupefied, mouth hanging open and drooling on Kita’s chest. He doesn’t mind - rather, he doesn’t really notice, too busy focusing on your bouncing tits in front of his eyes, on the occasional brush of Atsumu’s sack on his skin, and the rising coil in his gut, ready to snap at any moment.

Hips jump erratically off the bed when Atsumu rubs at your clit hard and fast, nearly crushing Kita’s cock from how tightly you squeeze the both of them as your husband brings you to your mind shattering end.

“I’m cumming! I’m- I-”

It’s all you’re able to say as your peak washes over you in waves of heat, and he feels your juices gush out on top of his skin as you do so. Fuck, he’s nearly there, so close, just a bit more-

“I’m c-close, I’m so close-” Kita stutters.

“Cum for me,” Atsumu growls, pounding into your ass with abandon while you fall onto Kita’s torso, arms wrapped around his neck and sobbing so pitifully in his ear. “Cum for us, Shinsuke.”

It’s the push he needed. He’s shooting his seed into your core with a strangled shout, pumping load after load right into you while Atsumu follows, unloading into your ass with a curse and a moan of your name, going balls deep and spilling all that he has while your walls milk them for all that they have.

Atsumu collapses on top of both of you with a tired sigh, and while Kita’s body protests at the added weight, his mouth can’t quite catch up with his brain at the moment, so he simply lays there as the heat of the room falls over all of you like a blanket.

Both cocks begin to soften inside of you. Ever so gently, they pull out, seed escaping your holes and dripping slowly onto the sheets as you whine at the loss and clench around nothing, feeling so terribly empty and almost wishing they had stayed inside of you. But it gives you an opportunity to rest, and Atsumu flips you on your side until he’s laying you down on the bed, littering kisses all over your body and singing praises about how well you did for them, how much of a good girl you are.

You smile sleepily, exhaustion overtaking your limbs, and Kita can only cup your face and rub his thumbs on your cheekbones, uncertain if kissing you would be crossing a line now that the deed has been done. You arch into his touch while Atsumu leaves to get a cloth.

“Was that ok for you, my King?”

Ah. Of course you would put him above yourself. He smiles warmly at that.

“That was wonderful. You were perfect,” he answers honestly, and you practically glow with pride at his words. When Atsumu returns, Kita takes the cloth, opting to be the one to clean the mess between your legs. It’s the least he could do after all that they’ve done for him.

It grows silent once he finishes, looking over to see Atsumu holding you close from behind. Your eyelids are drooping and your eyes grow hazy with every kiss and rub Atsumu gives to you, yet when Kita is about to excuse himself, to find solitude in a bath and let the married couple have his bedchambers for the night, you reach out to him, wanting to hold him, his face, to bring it close to you and trap him for the night.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to…” he trails off with uncertainty. Atsumu snorts, offering him a kind and warm smile.

“The Lady always gets what she wants,” he jokes, and Kita lets out a fond laugh. “Besides - yer the King.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he replies. And he means it. But his heart begs for the opposite, for you to not let him go and let him rest his head on your heart.

It seems as though you hear his thoughts.

“I want you to stay,” you murmur, sleepy but resolute in your words. “Do you want to stay?”

His eyes flicker back and forth between husband and wife. He could leave. He could end things right here, pretend like tonight never happened and go on existing as King like he always has. Things would become too complicated if he stayed. He knows this. And yet…

“I do,” he whispers, and curls into the warmth of your chest while Atsumu rubs at his hair with a fondness not common in him. Kita feels, for once in his life, at home. No castle too big and warm can ever compare to this. “I do want to stay.”

“Well then,” Atsumu says warmly, while you finish his sentence.

“Stay.”

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Belle-W.L

“could I request a will imagine where the reader is mia in his new video? like she's his girlfriend and reacts to all of the things belle got him?”

“can you do a will x reader fic where the reader reacts to the belle delphine box lmao x”

Gif cred. @sdmngifs​

Pairing: WillNE X Reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Pronouns: She/Her

__________________

Opening the door, Y/n's attention first went to the corner of the room. A giant pink bear sat there with two pink crates, a giant blown up donut, and a canvas with a pink-haired girl holding a gun. Glancing over to Will's desk across the room, her boyfriend sat there, not bothering to look back at her. "What is going on here?" Y/n made her way over to the empty seat next to will, a grin was spread across her face. She was a bit excited about whatever her boyfriend was planning. "That smile is will be gone soon," he hadn't made eye contact with his girlfriend yet. He focused on the camera, leaning in to readjust the lens. "Alright, here's the plan, I'm gonna show you all the stuff by the bear. But first you gotta know, all of it is from Belle Delphine." Y/n's mouth shaped in an 'o',  it made sense from the canvas leaning on Will's table. "I need you to close your eyes for the first surprise," her boyfriend stood up from his seat, making his way from behind Y/n. "Oh no, I'm scared already." Hesitantly, she raised her hands to her face. "This first surprise you shouldn't have to be scared about," Will replied. Y/n could hear Will moving around, the sound of his closet door opened before closing again. "So you're telling me I should be scared of some of Belle's gifts?" "Well... yes and no." "Wait, what does that mean, Will?" Y/n let out a giggle fueled with nervousness. "Alright, open your eyes." Taking her hands away from her face, Y/n took a second to let her eyes readjust before looking to her boyfriend. Will stood there with a stupid grin on his face as he wore a white ahegao hoodie. "Oh wait, that's actually really cool," A smile appeared on her face. "I think I might steal that from you for some Instagram pictures." "Really?" he raised a brow at Y/n's reaction. It was only the first gift, but he knew it would get worse. "Yeah, that with some fishnets and some platform boots, it'd be a look," She brushed her hair back out of her face, a grin still staying on her face. Will took a glance at the camera for a moment before walking off back to his closet. "Am I the only one you're showing this stuff to? Or some other friends?" Y/n turned, watching Will pull the hoodie off himself. "Yeah, I'm just having James, Alex, and George stop by to have them check it out too," as soon as the hoodie was off, Will made his way to the other belongings in the corner of the room. "Alright, here's the next gift." He had picked up a box, bringing it back over to the desk. Getting closer, he revealed the front of the box with a bit of art of Belle on the from. Belle had been making a "shush" motion as the art of her was drawn with her finger over her lips. "Is that Belle Delphine fanart?"Y/n asked as she admired the art. "I have no clue, what do you think is in it?" "Huh, probably more photos of her." "George said the same thing," Will grinned happily, his hand snaking down to open the box. "Great minds think alike." Will paused as Y/n spoke, only making his girlfriend let out a giggle, "Are you gonna keep opening it or not?" "I'm opening it, I'm opening it," he let out a sigh before flipping the top open. A dartboard with Morgz mum's face on it was shown. "That's so cool," Y/n grinned happily. "Are you gonna hang it up somewhere?" "Maybe, I have no clue where I'm gonna put it yet," Will shrugged before closing the box. He made his way back to the corner of gifts. "I'd just like to say Will hasn't let me into his bedroom for the past couple of days because of all the gifts," The h/c girl smiled before looking back at Will as he picked out a new gift. "That looks like a Belle Delphine shrine, doesn't it?" Will had approached with a different box that had the same art sprawled out on top of it. Taking a seat next to Y/n, he handed her the box before quickly snatching up his Go-Pro camera. Taking a glance at Will, Y/n slowly opened the box. As soon as they realized what was sitting in their lap, a giant grin spread across their face another time. A pink BB gun sat there with 'Belle Delphine' written across it. "Can Belle become my sugar mommy?" Y/n spoke as she picked up the gun. Will let out a laugh from his girlfriend's response. "I'm surprised how well you're taking this." "Well, I haven't seen anything too concerning." "Yet." "What?" After taking the BB gun back, Will had returned with something else. A pink machete. "My god, Belle is really preparing you for an apocalypse, isn't she?" "I literally have no clue what I'm going to do with this," Will shrugged, going back to find a safe place to secure the weapon. After the machete, Will had brought the portrait of Belle over to Y/n to give her a moment to admire it. Belle was painted holding a gun as she said 'Subscribe or die.' "Just wondering why you haven't drawn up a canvas like this yet," Will grinned cheekily. "You see, I was gonna say I liked the painting until you made that snarky little comment," Y/n shook her head, her smile disappearing. "But you know what? You want a canvas? I'll give you a canvas. Don't be surprised when one day you walk into your bedroom and you'll see a painting of me covering up your walls." her smile appeared from Will's mouth falling open. "And I'm gonna get one of your friends in so they get the video content before you do." "Alright, that's where you hurt me, Y/n," Will shook his head, walking off with the canvas. "Anyways, I think it's about time we open the crates." As soon as the crate was brought over to Y/n, she opened it. The crate had been filled with all different sorts of things. The first thing Will had pulled out was a pair of cat mittens. "I think these were made for you." "No love, those were made for you." Y/n pushed the mittens towards Will, only for him to put them on. "Looking good." Instead of continuing to go through the crate, Will had brought over the inflatable donut. He had ended up making Y/n wear it while pointing his go-pro camera in her face. "I'm scared," Y/n bit her lip. "Why am I sitting in the donut?" "There's no reason to be scared." Will let out a giggle of excitement mixed with nervousness. "Is Belle gonna pop out of the closet or something?" She looked behind her over to the row of closets in Will's room. Will let out another giggle. "No, no, no. Don't worry about that. But do you think you could smell it?" "What?" "Just smell the donut, Y/n." Keeping eye contact with her boyfriend, Y/n hesitantly leaned in towards the plastic, sniffing it. There was no scent besides the smell of plastic. "There's no smell Will." "Alright, there's another donut. This one smells like an actual donut," Will had brought a smaller donut over to Y/n. "And on the back of it is a YouTube URL." "Oh no... what happened?" Y/n's voice cracked as she moved to take the piece of plastic off of her, "I don't wanna wear this now." Will took a seat next to Y/n, letting out a laugh as he typed in the URL. "The URL leads to a video titled, 'Belle vs Donut.' And the channel is 'Willne and Belle forever'." "It should be Y/n and Belle forever," Y/n gave a mischievous wink at the camera while Will typed in the URL. Her boyfriend had taken a moment to stare into the camera just from hearing that. "Am I gonna lose my girlfriend to my sugar mommy?" "Hopefully." The video had started, revealing Belle had sprayed whipped cream on most of the donut before slipping into the donut from using a children's slide. After she was in the donut she had slapped her head against the donut before the video ended. A moment of silence followed after the video ended. Y/n was a bit speechless for a moment. "...Wow." "I know," Will chuckled with his usual grin reappearing on his face. "You commented 'pog'?" The h/c girl let out a giggle as she scrolled down to the comment section, "You're this channel's only subscriber. That's sad." Will couldn't help but let out some more laughter from Y/n. "Guys, go subscribe to Willne and Belle forever and try to get Belle to change the channel name to  'Y/n and Belle forever'." Will looked into his camera once more with the usual look of disappointment. As Will had gone back to bring the crate back, Y/n quickly scrolled down to the comment section, typing in 'Y/n + Belle forever.' The crate had been reopened, revealing the content inside for a second time. The first thing Will had pulled out was a photo of Belle with a note on the back of it. "Dear WillNE, I hope you enjoy your mystery box! Love from Belle Delphine." "That's sweet," Y/n smiled. "I'm just so confused how you aren't upset," Will placed the photo back down before turning to Y/n. "Oh, the only thing I'm upset about is that she chose to be your sugar mommy over mine." Will had shown off a pink Xbox controller with Belle's name engraved on it. Y/n had found it cool and was a bit jealous she didn't have her own. After the Xbox controller, Will brought out Belle's pet named 'Fluffy.' He was a small crocodile with a ribbon tied around his neck. "Omg, I love him. Could I keep him?" Y/n smiled, taking the crocodile out of Will's hands. "Yeah, I thought he was a real animal when I first opened the crate." Y/n let out a laugh at her boyfriend before they continued on with the rest of the items. Will had brought out a Dive blaster from OverWatch to show off, Y/n really didn't care much for it. Up next, Will had brought out a pair of pink darts with the Britain flag on them. SO the couple had decided to walk over to the dartboard to play a short game. Will had brought out a mug with custom art on it. The art had shown Belle watching WillNE on it, meanwhile a few of Will's friends' videos had been put on the sidebar of recommended videos. "It says Will and Belle forever... wow," Y/n gave a look to the camera before handing the mug back to her boyfriend. Will brought out a polaroid of Belle that had a button connected to it. The button had said, 'send nudes.' "I'm starting to get concerned she's actually trying to steal you from me," Y/n muttered quietly as she stared at the polaroid. Will did feel a bit bad, he knew he had to spoil Y/n some way for her later on to make up for the video. Y/n looked back at the camera before blurting out, "Belle I love you, please date me instead of my boyfriend." Will had swapped out the first crate for another one, this new one being called 'the fanny crate.' He had first pulled out a bowl of cereal, handing it to Y/n. "Oh, that's cute. It says sub to WillNE," Y/n smiled at the bowl. "It might not be what you think it is." "Nevermind." She quickly placed the bowl down, refusing to take a second glance at it. The brunette boy had pulled out a purple teddy bear that had no face, merely a giant black hole for a mouth and prickly white teeth. "Oh, I love him too. Could I also keep him?" The h/c girl grinned, holding the bear close. "Take him, he's scary." Will shook his head, going back into the crate to pull something new out. A syringe of pink glitter appeared in his hands. As soon as Y/n saw it, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Mikey, could you please edit James in when he says 'Inject this into my fucking veins'?" Y/n let out a giggle as she looked over at the camera. "Don't listen to her Mikey!" "Joke's on you, Mikey likes me." Will had next pulled out a pink condom that had been titled 'Gamer girl condom.' Of course, Will had ended up asking the dumbest question yet. "Could we use it?" "She could've poked holes in it," Y/n shook her head. "You're insane." Will had ended up bringing out a new gift that just happened to make Y/n a bit jealous. A brand new seventh-generation Ipad. The couple had found themselves talking over if Belle had possibly uploaded anything to it. After putting the Ipad away once again, Will had told Y/n to close her eyes once again. "Will, you keep scaring me," Y/n sighed, her face covered with her hands. "Well none of this stuff has been that terrible yet, has it?" "You said 'yet' earlier." "That's because I thought you were gonna be much more upset over the stuff in the crates!" After a moment of shuffling footsteps and silence, Wil spoke up once again, "Reach your hand out." "Oh no," Y/n muttered before hesitantly moving her hand out. It took a few seconds before she felt anything. But as soon as her hand came in contact with something, she flinched. Opening her eyes, Y/n had realized what her hand came in contact with. "She got you a fucking chainsaw?" At this point, Will was grinning like a child who had been spoiled on Christmas. "Gotta protect myself." "From what? Wood?" Y/n raised a brow, a smug smile on her face as she watched Will walk off with his new machine. Soon enough, Will had come back with one last item. A small pink box. Getting into arms reach of Y/n, he quickly handed the box to her, not bothering to take a seat before doing it. Y/n let out a gasp at the sight of the box, could Belle have tried to propose to Will? "I swear if she proposed to you with an engagement ring I'm breaking up with you," shaking her head, Y/n opened the box. A small necklace fell out with a small red crystal connected to it. After taking a moment to admire it, Y/n spoke up. "Will... what is this?" "Blood." "What the fuck?" As quickly as the necklace had been brought out, it had been put away. And just like that, the filming had come to an end. Y/n had stuck around to help Will clean everything up for Alex to show up. By the time they had finished, they had a bit of time before Alex would show up, leaving the couple free time together. "Hey Y/n," Will followed Y/n downstairs. They had planned to watch a bit of TV and cuddle for a bit. "Yes?" "you know I love you, right?" "Of course," Y/n stopped walking, turning to face her boyfriend. "I love you, you know that, right?' "Yeah." "Good," the h/c girl took a seat on the couch, scooting over to give Will room. "You're not mad about Belle?" "Not at all, I get stuff like this happens. Also, Belle is Belle, what do you expect?" She moved over, cuddling up to Will's chest as he moved to hold her close. "God, you're amazing." "I know."

Taglist: @anyasthoughts @multifandom-but @springholland @blondiee-seaveyy @caswinchester2000 @glossystyless 

[crimsonseekers]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @aphrodaisyacs! Thank you! :D

Name(s): Crimson, or Crim as I've been assigned by friends

Fandom(s): Ones I've written for are BNHA, Transformers, Sk8, JJK, HTTYD, Pokemon, and Hetalia. Those last three are on an old FFnet account I refuse to let see the light of day.

Where you post: AO3 (but as stated before I used to write on FFnet lmao)

Most popular one-shot (by kudos): League of Villains? League of Flat Earthers

I won't lie, I wrote that fic in maybe three or four hours on a whim following the unexpected success of my first bnha fic. Which brings me to my next point of why is it always the fics I put the least effort into or write on a whim that do the best (*side eyes entire [insert tragic backstory] series*)

Most popular multi-chap (also by kudos): area cryptid upset no one bothered to inform him of his tragic backstory

this is my most popular fice by a not insignificant margin lmao. i tell this story in discord all the time but i literally wrote it while dissociating during zoom calls and then decided to post it because it got long so why not? and then it got popular so i kept writing bnha fic and now i'm here.

Favorite story you've written so far: i'd say either a blood crown for two or love is stored in the medical stapler hidden in the anti paparazzi blanket

blood crown was a self-indulgent project that i didn't think there would be any audience for, so i was super happy that other people enjoyed it as well. the other one was a joke fic written when i joined CTABB in roughly two and a half hours, and is honestly one of the best times i ever had writing a fic.

Fics you were nervous to post: mmmm i don't really get nervous when posting, but if i had to point at one, then it'd probably be catch me when i fall (rated E). it was just a fic written in a fever dream, a weirdly charged emotional study of hawks and nagant's relationship, published within roughly 36 hours of me learning she had a name. it was just i knew that with her being such a new character, it was definitely going to be niche, so i wasn't sure what the reaction was going to be

How do you choose your titles: it kind of depends on the type of fic i'm writing, to be honest. with crack/humor fics, i just come up with the worst possible way of describing the premise (ex. "area cryptid upset no one bother to inform him of his tragic backstory," "diamonds are capitalism, shiny pebbles are forever,"). for fics with a more serious tone, i try to choose something that alludes to the climax or main plot point/emotional core (ex. "a blood crown for two," "where we fly on metal wings," "This Address Does Not Exist"), and sometimes i use the ye olde song lyric method if i'm really stuck (ex. "don't forget me when i let the water take me," "because with us you're free to sea,")

Do you outline?: lmao no.

okay, it's a bit more complicated than that. I've outlined maybe four or five fics ever - two of them were for zine fics because words weren't coming easily enough for the check-in, one was just because i thought that's what the multi-chap process was supposed to look like and was honestly more of a meme than an outline, and i currently have one that's an actual outline because it's a very plot-heavy au

Complete: like,,,, five zine fics (soon to be six since i need to finish one before the deadline in two hours lmao) that are locked in zine jail, the next installment of f1 au that's locked in beta jail, and a few fics that i wrote out by hand an still haven't typed up despite the fact they have started gathering visible dust

In-progress: A DabiHawks Pathologic AU, a sword spirit road trip AU, a catbi fic, another seven zine fics, four big bang fics, cyberpunk au sequel, and probably another five i'm forgetting because my life has spiraled out of control and this is less an interview than a desperate cry for help-

Coming soon: ....i uh.... am a tad burned out as the kids say, so the only thing i can definitively say is coming soon is my dabi bang fic, for which the premise is "the entire league thinks dabi is touch starved and thus touch avoidant but he's actually just severely immunocompromised" because i have a deadline on that lmao

Not started: more than i'm willing to admit - if i've ever mentioned or shown off an au that i didn't list as "in progress," chances are i haven't started it or have just put it on the back burner

Prompts? area cryptid and league of flat earthers actually both stemmed from the same prompt, but apart from those two the only fics i've written from prompts were for a valentines exchange i did with some friends last year - "Ritus," "Uncouth," "Not Exactly Procedure," and "Just Us"

Upcoming work you're most excited about: hmmmm my Whump Bang fic and my Hawks Bang fic are both going to cause significant pain and i can't wait to show them off, but my pathologic and sword spirit fics are also going to be excellent (once i actually work on them lmao)

No pressure tags: (i'm sorry if you've already been tagged, but it's been pre-established that i'm very out of the loop) @theycallmebol @amethystunarmed @draphrawrites @bittermoonswrites

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

fic writer interview

I was tagged by the lovely @scrunchyharry to do this, thank you! This seems so fun!

name: my ao3 is we_are_the_same 

fandoms: i’ve written for a lot of fandoms (pre ao3) but I’ve been a 1D writer for 8 years now!

where you post: I used to post on LJ and ff.net but nowadays I solely post on AO3. 

most popular one-shot: depends on what we’re going by! If we’re going by hits, it’s what a mess I made upon your innocence, written in 2012, a zayn centric gangbang because back in the day I wrote smut lmao. From recent fics it’s some things fade (some never do) from summer 2019. If we go by kudos however, then the most popular one-shot (regardless of when I’ve written it) is you’ve set my soul to dreaming, which I didn’t expect at all!

most popular multi-chap: a game that i’m destined to lose which is from 2012 too. The most popular recent fic has to be there’s no fair in farewell since that’s the only multi-chap fic I’ve written since 2017. This goes for both hits and kudos.

favorite story you’ve written so far: I will forever owe my soul to there’s no fair in farewell since that fic brought me so much. For recent fics, I really love the Phoenix fic I wrote for wordplay this year: it’s time to find your wings again

fic you were nervous to post: hmm. Mostly TNFIF since that was my debut as a Larry writter!

how do you choose your titles: I google song lyrics tbh. Mainly from the boys, but sometimes also based on the prompt.

do you outline: I love caroline’s answer here: the main points, but I don’t usually go into a lot of details. I’m not an architect, I’m a gardener. I let the ideas bloom. when the plot is too detailed, my mind gets stuck in a box and the fics become too formulaic. This is pretty accurate and also what drives me nuts about my current WIP since it feels too outlined!

complete: I’m just counting 1D works here, we’re at 42 fics!

in progress: Just my Big Bang, though I do have another WIP that’s waiting to be picked back up (and has been for two years or so lmao)

coming soon/not yet started: my @1d5xfest fic is posting early 2021. My @1dchristmasfest fic is posting next week, on december 1st! 

prompts?: I have a prompt doc full of little quotes, plot bunnies and anything that brings me inspiration. But they’re all private since I want to end up writing most of them :D

upcoming work you’re most excited about: I am excited about all of my fics, but I’ll be so glad when I’m in a good place about my Big Bang, since that’s truly a struggle but also a fic I am very excited to write.

tagging: @zannithinks @disgruntledkittenface @fallinglikethis @lululawrence and @dinosaursmate

[thran-duils]

Devils Look Like Angels (Ch. 6)

Title: Devils Look Like Angels (Chapter 6) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Psychotic!Castiel. An unhinged, criminal, supernatural artifact collector extraordinaire… and the reader caught his eye. It will not take her long to realize that beneath the charm and mystique is a crazed killer who will go to great lengths to woo her. Words: 2,900 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Stalking, angst, death/murder, violence

Author’s Note: Sorry if you guys clicked on this about 5 mins ago and it disappeared. I realized I forgot half a page I had written. lmao

Chap 5 || Chap 7 || Masterpost  || Fanfic masterpost

The rain pattered the window next to the booth, your mind following the pattern of the sound. Although the sugar had long since dissolved, you still swirled your spoon slowly, lost in your thoughts.

Sam cleared his throat next to you and you got the hint it was not the first time he had done it based off the look that him and Dean were giving you when you looked up at them.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, placing the spoon down on the napkin next to your cup assuming the sound was getting to them.

“No, are you okay?” Sam asked quietly. “You haven’t said a word.”

You shook your head, “No.”

It had been days since Castiel had murdered those restaurant workers. And had somehow found you once again. You did not feel secure anywhere. Even the bunker.

They were waiting for you to elaborate.

“I don’t know what to think. He doesn’t seem like he wants to harm me. But you never know with crazy people. I could lose my charm or whatever he says he likes. Or I could refuse him too many times and he has one of those cliché ‘it’s me or nobody’ moments. And poof, I’m lying dead in a ditch.” You sighed loudly, running your hands over your face. “Why are psychos always so polite and charming?”

Dean said, picking up his coffee, “It’s how they lead people into their little fucked up web.”

You nodded in acknowledgment. Tears pricked and you felt yourself crumbling; you had held it together and this small crack in your façade that they had gotten you to open up was opening like a chasm. “I’m so tired. I can’t sleep.”

“Me either,” Sam admitted quietly.

“Ditto,” Dean chimed in.

Sniffling, trying to pull yourself back together before you fell apart, you attempted humor, “Glad to know we are all equally miserable here.”

Your phone buzzed in your jeans and you froze, your eyes moving between the two of them. They could not hear it over the noise in the restaurant and the fact it was in your pocket. The main two people who would text you were currently with you. Which left an unfavorable option.

“What?” Dean asked in response to your startled expression. He looked around quickly, eyes searching.

Slowly, you reached into your pocket and pulled your phone out. It was a text from him that looked to contain an address from the snippet you could see on your lock screen.

Eyes fixated on your phone, you barely breathed, “He texted me.”

You did not have to specify who ‘he’ was.

“Why haven’t you just blocked his number?” Dean asked vexed.

You had opened the text and read the address that was accompanied by a date as well.

Placing your phone down on the table, you took a deep breath, closing your eyes, taking a moment. When you opened your eyes again, you told him, “Because I would miss things like this. And like I’ve said, I feel responsible for whoever he is going to kidnap. Plus, if he can find me wherever I go however he does, what good does it do to block a number? He’ll just get a new phone and text me from that. Doesn’t seem like the type to give up easily.”

Sam and Dean read the text as you spoke.

“What is it for?” Sam questioned. “It doesn’t say a game.”

You shrugged, picking the phone back up, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Your heart rate was going up, staring at his name.

What is this for? You sent back.

The three of you waited impatiently, staring down at your phone. The waiter startled you all when he suddenly appeared at the table with your order.

Castiel still had not replied; it had almost been ten minutes. He was taking his sweet ass time.

You managed to get a few bites of food in before your phone buzzed and you all but dropped your silverware completely to get to it.

Another game. I would appreciate if you would RSVP quickly. The other guests look forward to your heroics. And it goes without saying that there is no room for a plus one or two in your case.

As soon as Sam read it, he said definitively, “You’re not going.”

“Damn straight,” Dean agreed, shoving a huge bite of pancakes into his mouth.

“But what if he gets upset?” you protested.

Dean gave you an incredulous look. Mouth full, he spat, “I don’t give a shit if his feelings get hurt!”

“He’s going to kill those people if he gets upset!” you hissed, leaning in to try to not be overheard by the other patrons.

Dean said nothing, instead exchanging a trying look with Sam across the table.

Taking the reins, Sam tried, “Y/N, yeah, that could happen. But we don’t know that for sure. For all we know, you could show up, there’s no one there and it’s you that kidnapped, and we never see you again. The only thing we know for sure is you’ll be safe if you don’t go at all.”

Moving your gaze away from him, you stared at the window. You knew deep down he was right. Castiel was unpredictable in the worst way possible and that made his request for you to come alone out of the question.

It was hard to stomach the anxiety though that people could be harmed because you were worried about yourself.

“I know,” you answered miserably.

Their eyes were on you as you picked up your silverware and resumed eating reluctantly. Each bite tasted sour. The rest of the meal was quiet as you were drawn back into your thoughts.

<> <> <>

“Maybe we should take a real vacation.”

This suggestion from Sam was what prompted the trip back to the Oregon coast near Cape Lookout. Dean insisted if this was where you guys were going to go, he needed the beach as much as he needed to visit the Tillamook Creamery. When you guys had gone, you had surprisingly been amazed at the amount of cheese samples Dean had not only managed to swindle but put away without getting sick. Enough actually to prompt you to buy some cheese to offset all the free samples, much to Dean’s pleasure to have back at the hotel.

Unlike Sam, you did not enjoy taking runs on the beach but you sure enjoyed rising early to take walks with the sun rising. Luckily the hotel was cheap that you guys found – because who cares what the room looks like as long as it is clean because you barely spent time there anyway – which meant you could book the room for a week More than enough time to travel up and down the coast to see as many viewpoints as possible. The Sea Lion Caves outside of Florence had been a trek but more than worth it.

This morning was the last one before heading home and it was quiet as the sand moved beneath your feet and the waves licked at your feet as you walked. Your sandals dangled from your hand as you took in the sea air, smiling softly as the gulls called overhead. Your endpoint was a local donut shop. If you brought a bag back, Dean would be sure to polish off whatever you and Sam did not eat when he drug himself out of bed.

Looking over the ocean waves. You wished you could stay here forever. Satisfied and tranquil.

<> <> <>

Placing your bag down on the table at the bottom of the stairs, you threw Sam a look.

“Don’t you wish we had a dog to greet us when we came home?”

Sa chuckled but Dean answered, “Hell no. Because if we had a dog, it would have been on that trip with us and it would have been in the backseat of my car messing up my seats.”

Rolling your eyes, you told him, “You always gotta be negative, don’t you? When it comes to dogs?”

Dean grunted in response, moving towards the hall with his bag in hand.

Sam and you exchanged a look.

“Pizza?” you asked. He rose an eyebrow in response, and you quipped, “I’ll make sure to order you some lettuce?”

“Cute. Where are we going?”

“Actually…” you started. “I was thinking I could go alone. No offense but I have been stuck in the car with you guys for a couple days.”

You did not miss the glint of unease in his eyes and you knew what was putting it there.

“I don’t know if that is smart, Y/N.”

“He hasn’t texted in almost two weeks. Since the diner.”

“That is precisely what is concerning. We don’t know what he’s planned. And you said he said himself he’s living in or near Lawrence.”

Jingling the keys in your hand, you shrugged, trying to put a braver look on your face than you felt. You had been thinking about it for days. What you should do.

“I can’t live in constant fear, Sam.”

Sam regarded you quietly.

You added, “I don’t want to let the thought of something bad happening keep me from living my life. Hell, if I did that, I couldn’t do what we do to begin with.”

This at least made him smile a little.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed softly. He fixed you with a hard stare though. “Please be careful.”

“I will,” you promised.

And you were. Looking both ways at four-way intersections, keeping track of who was in your rearview mirror, head on a swivel when you got out of the car to go into the pizza parlor downtown. You were on edge, imagining eyes following you. And more than once you caught yourself looking over your shoulder, afraid you would find Castiel there.

But he was not.

Every time.

You were not sure if that should calm you or make you even more nervous.

<> <> <>

Just when you started getting comfortable a week later, it all came crashing down.

Hand clutching your iced coffee and your other holding your bag containing a couple new books, you thanked the barista and turned away from them to go towards the exit.

Your eyes fell on him at a table next to the closest exit and you froze. He was staring directly at you and you knew he had been watching you for some time. Perhaps the whole time you had wandered around the store, picking up book after book, reading the back covers and placing back ones that had not caught your interest. And he had to have been to get himself situated the way he was and judging by the fact he had men around the two exits out of the café to the bookstore indicated this was calculated.

He motioned for you and pointed at the seat across from him, his mouth set in a thin line.

There were to many patrons for him to harm – you hoped – anyone. That hope is what forced you to move forward, cursing yourself for not having any weapons with you and letting your guard down.

Sinking into the chair, you refrained from placing your things down just yet. His stare was burning, and you wanted to recoil from the fierceness of it. His displeasure was evident.

“It has been awhile,” Castiel finally said, breaking the tension. “I needed… time to collect my thoughts. It disappointed me greatly when you did not show. In fact, it was downright insulting.”

You licked your bottom lip, contemplating how you were going to answer.

“The intention wasn’t to insult you,” you said slowly. “I have to admit I was – and am still, quite frankly – shaken by the… scene at the restaurant. You didn’t give me much to go on with that last text and I wasn’t sure what I was going to be walking into – especially alone. I considered it but decided to wait for word from you after the time had passed.”

Castiel was quiet again and you mirrored him. Although your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest.

He cleared his throat. “Hmm. It seems I still have not convinced you of your safety which is disappointing. But… I can admit I could have divulged more details regarding the parameters of the dinner.” He paused seeing the confused look on your face and he narrowed his in return. “What?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes,” he told you in a wry tone. “I was not going to invite you to something in the evening and not feed you. I am not a heathen. I actually care about your wellbeing.” He adjusted in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table eyeing you inquisitively. “You had considered coming, though?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I am upset it did not come to fruition. Especially since the duck was so delectable.”

“What about the others? The other guests? Did they show…?”

Shrugging, Castiel said, “They really had no choice in the matter. I feel that is one thing I have always been adamantly candid about in my texts. Their fate if you did not show to solve the game.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. This is what you had dreaded, what you had tried to reason with when discussing it with Sam and Dean. More people had died because of your inaction. Castiel had ultimately pulled the trigger but he had placed the gun at your feet first and you had neglected to act.

Apparently, it was clear as day on your face that you were in disbelief because Castiel pointed out, “I did tell you that you could trust me, did I not? That is one thing you can always be sure of. That I will never lie to you.”

He looked so sincere, like that fact should dispel any worry or negativity you were feeling. You were at a loss of what to do except to appease him until you could figure out a better plan.

Again, as if he could read your mind, he said, “If you were so inclined… you could make it up to me? Not a game this time; we will switch it up.”

Avoiding him was no longer an option. Placating him until you truly figured out what to do seemed viable right then and there.

“How?” you asked, your throat dry.

Castiel’s lips turned up, pleased. “The museum.”

Fuck.

You let out a small nervous chuckle and avoided eye contact.

“What?” he asked.

Shit shit shit.

Exhaling sharply, you met his eyes again and told him truthfully, “I don’t have the ticket.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… I left it in the restaurant. On accident. I was a little flustered by the… scene in the kitchen. I didn’t remember. I wasn’t thinking completely straight as I hope you can understand.” His mouth was parted in surprise, staring. You added quickly, “I am sorry if you spent a lot of money on it. I can pay you back. I swear.”

He leaned towards you and you started to lean back in response, but his hand fell on yours holding your coffee, stopping your movement.

“Oh, Y/N. I did not mean to shake you up so badly. I do wish you had not gone into the kitchen but since you did… please know I only did that because of the way they were going to serve you. Improperly. And I could not abide that.” His fingers caressed yours and you were fighting every instinct to yank your hand away from him. “You do not have to pay me back but thank you for the offer. It is extremely sweet and thoughtful of you, kitten.”

He finally leaned back, his hand leaving yours.

“There is an event coming up instead that I can acquire tickets to. And I will hold onto them this time for safe keeping.” A small joke at your expense and you forced a small smirk in response. “I would like you to join me. I can send a text when and where.”

You were almost too afraid to ask. “What kind of event?”

“Musical.”

“Alright.”

His smile was wide. “Perfect. I look forward to it.”

“Me too,” you got out with as much false sincerity as you could muster.

The biggest problem was going to be getting out for an extended period of time without worrying Sam and Dean.

“I hope this outing of ours will bring us closer, kitten,” Castiel told you, standing up. He held out his hand towards you, peering down his nose. Clutching your bag, you stood, accepting his assistance. He took your drink and bag from you, “Let me walk you to your car.”

He was close, his cologne circling around you. After you unlocked the car, he placed your bag in the backseat before holding your door open politely.

Before he closed the door, he handed you your drink. “You look lovely by the way in that color. It flatters you so.”

“Thank you,” you told him, holding your drink close.

“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”

You nodded and he closed the door, taking a step back to allow you room to back out of the parking space.

Your hands were trembling on the steering well as you left. He watched you until you drove off and he disappeared from the rearview when you turned the corner.

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass

[halinski]

I have so many questions about your WIP folder... like, "BOTTLE"??? and are "BO" and "BOTTLE" two different fics? Also "16. Dreamcatcher!Derek", I'm very intrigued... And since there is a blue moon this month "41. Every Once In A Blue Moon"? (Ignore me it that's too many questions)(though I'd love to know more about your poems, too)

hahahaha, the questions are appreciated :D i actually think that i once posted a thing like this and that exactly this one and the blue moon one where asked for lmaooo but yeah you guessed it, BO and BOTTLE are essentially two different versions of the same fic, one further written than the other, and the other containing more of the initial outlining. It was basically inspired by a story I heard at work (and no longer 100% remember) but it was about finding romance via letters in bottles in modern times or something? I think there was a person who regularly found letters and decided to reply to people who had added an address, and so i naturally wanted to sterek it, like i do with basically everything, and I started writing a fic about Derek living in a basically deserted light house and finding the letter that Stiles addressed to his mother and threw into the ocean. I had a whole long storyline planned out for this! I believe there was even bottles with letters Derek had written to his family that came back to him and he stored away forever to be unread (until Stiles comes along ofc). But another version was that Derek never did anything about the letters, just read them, and there were ofc a bunch of sad ones. (Derek stored the all ofc). there’s diff save files with diff versions (and i believe two different files that have the initial idea i screamed at someone while at work) and in one version I’m pretty sure Stiles was a mermaid like Ariel that collected bottled messages and then found Derek through his letters (who once again probably lived in a lighthouse by the ocean) but that was like at least 4 years ago if not more and i hate mermaids now so that version is absolutely scratched lol I didn’t get really far with any version in written word though and I doubt I will ever really finish it? I mean who knows... but I could totally get all the way into my feels again thinking about it if i let myself... You’re in luck my friend, bc Every Once in a Blue Moon actually contains a part of a poem (i was gonna write a long story poem that would be split upon the separate scenes/parts of the fic) and the fic actually starts with this: //Where wolves run, hunters lie Chasing, chasing Till they all die/ I'm a wolf, my pack is dead My eyes are blue I should have died instead/ To all the mermaids of the sea I'm waiting here Come and take me// as you can see, this too contains mermaids bc i started writing this yeears ago but I’ve decided to transform this fic and actually did continue writing a bit (or well, mor accurately, planning) and it’s now just titled Evil in a different file lmao bc the mermaids are gonna be evil and will represent Kate bc why didn’t i think of that in the first place? as one can see in the poem, it includes a young and pretty suicidal Derek and he goes back to his family’s old vacation home that is now destroyed, and there are memories, good and bad, in particularly one of Peter’s first son, a little boy, completely human, which had perplexed Derek. It includes Derek asking the relentless ocean and horizon /why/ things happen and never getting a reply, and basically him giving himself to the ocean, to the mermaid that impersonates Kate (bc ofc Kate already happened and everyone is dead) and she makes him see her and the torture again (I live for angst, forgive me) BUT then in comes Stiles and saves Derek from drowning and helps him heal. This is kind of a mixture of an au, a different world, with canon as we know it in TW and last but not least! Dreamcatcher!Derek ahhhh This one has always been in my head more conceptually than actually formed into words. It’s basically Derek after the fire and stuff, where he kind of just gives himself to supernatural powers (do we see a theme here *ehem*), he basically kinda loses himself to his nightmares, becomes so used to them, lives in them, he kind of transcends into the dream world? I had a few rough years full of nightmares every night so this idea was just very deep for me back then. And then Derek would go around to other people’s dreams and fight the monsters in the dreams. He was just like an instrument then, helping other people to get some rest, while he worked restlessly. I guess it’s based kinda on lucid dreaming, breaking free from your body and reality. For Derek it’s like... yeah nightmares are /horrible/, he knows best, this is why he does this, but for him personally... they’re better than real life. So he just kind of gives his physical body up and retreats to his mind. This is where Stiles finds him (*hint hint*). Aka Stiles is having nightmares, and Derek comes to him to save him. Of course, Stiles being Stiles is very aware of the shadowy figure that pops up in his dreams and changes everything, and Stiles being Stiles he starts chasing Derek, and Derek is so confused bc most people don’t interact with him in their dreams, certainly not the way Stiles does. So then basically Stiles is the one who catches Derek and brings him back out of the dreamworld, back to real life, back to himself. ...and they live happily ever after in every universe <3 hah sorry if this ended up way too long XD i guess i’m happy to share my ideas bc they might not ever present themselves in fic form ahhh so THANK YOU for getting back into these and letting me amuse myself haha

[fenweak]

Top 10 1988 fics?

Ok first of all, i’ve been sitting on this ask, but thank you for this! But buckle up for a lengthy prologue to the answer lmao 

It’s just so weird to be asked to choose which, because at some point, I have loved all of the fics, each for their own merit, you get me? I fell in love with the fandom mostly because the fics here are lovely, and every time a new fic explored another facet of Jonny and Patrick’s relationship getting, it gave me another reason to stay. I read, and reread. I reread enough times that I made a 1988 fic search blog  (Boom, shameless sideblog plug). 

I have also been reading since 2016. That is to say, over time, I have changed, and along with that, my preferences have evolved, my opinions more resolved about a thing or two about the fandom and things tangential to it. I’m rambling, but I guess what I’m trying to say is, I have read fics in this pairing that have become a part of me, and I may not get to mention all of them but I have cherish all of them, truly. LET’S GET ON WITH THE LIST

LAST SEGUE: I have a more extensive fic rec here, which also is in no way exhaustive. It gotta be like that sometimes.

1. Literally everything by jezziejay. No, there isn’t a fic titled literally everything, i’m just a cheater because she’s that awesome. I peer in my bookmarks on ao3, and I have written under Somewhere Only We Know the ff: “NOTE TO FUTURE ME: DO YOURSELF A FAVKR AND READ EVERYTHING THIS LADY WROTE AT LEAST ONCE A YEAR.” And I do, reader. I have an annual jezziejay retrospective. I can probably quote to you entire paragraphs of Strung Out on Heaven’s High (hitting an all-time low). I am forever amazed at how well-crafted the twist was in Make His Brown Eyes Blue.  I just reread Dynamical Systems + its lovely minisequel today. I still dream of future sequels for The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews. Since then, jezziejay has published newer fics and we are so so blessed to have them:  the faeries and elves AU, the Love Actually lost in translation AU, her Mr. Wonderful AU, her freaking Murder in the Nile AU which actually convinced me to read more Poirot lol. She balances humor and drama very well and she writes subtly and with deliberateness, that her fics are always perfectly paced for me. If there’s a fic of hers that’s criminally underrated, though, and which you should read right now if you haven’t already, it’s A Better Man, which is one of the best use of OCs I have ever read in fandom ever. Go (re)read it now! Anyway, I can make a top ten fic rec that can be all jezziejay, and it’ll be believable, so let’s just make item one, count for, like, 5 items.

2. a light-handed approach to regulation by hazel. The thing about this fic is, its full appreciation lies in knowing what the popular fandom dynamic is in 1988, and then reading this afterwards. It subverts the trope and the popular pairing dynamic in multiple ways: an omega Captain, the omega being Jonny, having these characters be self-aware of their dynamic and adhere to that dynamic and caring shit all about the conventions attached to it. At the heart of it is still Jonny and Patrick and their love for hockey and I LOVE THAT. I also have gotten into *coughs* friendly discussions whether or not i’m overthinking how brilliant the summary and the title is. Friends, you know who you are haha but I abide by my decision to interpret “a light-handed approach” and its summary “Patrick Kane has soft hands” as somehow referring not only to Patrick Kane’s soft mitts on the ice, but his mindset, his general philosophy into the entire alpha/omega matter and as to him being an alpha to Jonny. WHich IS BRILLIANT because I’m a fan of double entendres and I’m easy to please like that. Also probably read all of hazel’s fics, which are all wonderful and happy reads.

3. Call Me Royal Blue by cupstealer. I was mindblown when this came out, like how dare someone write so cleverly and funny and viscerally and 50k long???  Amazing characterization too! This fic will hold you down and make you feel feelings. 1988 has an abundance of good friends-to-lovers slow burn, so shoutout to my other faves: Orbital Resonance by fourfreedoms and joyfulseeker, The Importance of Swimming in Clear Water by turningterrific, Eyes on the Horizon by heartstrings, Just Maybe by altri_uccelli, Just to Break My Own Fall by Linsky’s, and lean a little to the left by demotu.

4.  In the category of beautifully written and personally relatable: love songs for love songs by boodreau, You and Me of the 10,000 Wars by sahiya, safe to shore  and Chelsea, Chelsea I Believe by empathapathique,  I’m a sucker for fics where the characters, much like in real life, are A Mess, where their emotions or actions go against structured story beats and are pretty much organic. I like stories where the protagonists self-sabotage. I like it when they’re emotionally constipated, or when they hide inside themselves. I like stories where they strive and try to get better because there’s someone getting better for, because that’s the dream, right? Yes I am a drama queen at heart. Special mention to this deleted fic called we were in flames where Patrick and Jonny are long-time friends and lovers since college though Patrick can’t admit it--that story really stuck with me.

5. Here are fics with a touch of supernatural and which I completely adore: A Certainty I Envy by hatrickane, We’ve Waited For the Calling by allthebros, So Lift Those Heavy Eyelids by SimoneCloseau, these are the fables on my street by fahye, and a dainty dish set before the king by mockturtletale. There seriously needs to be more fantasy and supernatural fics in this fandom, because these are amazing and heart-wrenching and the idea of Jonny and Patrick braving and transcending the elements against them? A+

Special mention to my perennial rereads: You Make It Look Good, All Along the Undertow, Same Time, Same Place, love is a contact sport, 22. I may have forgotten many, but these are the fics that came to mind!

[heyyyharry]

In Another Life Series: Chapter 11 - The End

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, assistant!y/n, witch!y/n.

Chapter 10 - The Sidekicks: The protagonists aren’t always the only heroes.

wattpad link ❤︎  Before you read the chapter, I have "a few" words to say *clear throat and open my Oscar winning speech* (or you can just start reading and skip this altogether, it's fine).

When I was reaching the end of Flatmate with no intention of writing the sequel, I wanted to write something new that would be just as good. My mind was empty, and I came up with many bullshit ideas and almost settled down with some of them (glad i DIDN'T!). Then as I was listening to 1000 Times by Sarah Bareilles, from the lyrics, I pictured two strangers meeting each other for the first time, feeling like they've known each other forever, but having no clue that they used to be lovers in a different lifetime. It's just so romantic in my head and I knew I could do this idea justice. So thank you Sarah Bareilles, if you read this fic lemme know lmao. The painting idea was originally from Marc Levy's novel with the same name (Idk what it's title in French, but in my translated language it's) In Another Life, so just to be clear I didn't really come up with that, credit to the genius who did. Thank you "The Tudors" for all this knowledge I have about the English dynasties in the 16th century, and I'm genuinely sorry if I offend anyone with all the historical inaccuracies, please forgive me. Thank you everyone who's read and waited and commented on every chapter to help me make this as good as possible. I know it's only fiction but to read about how my writing makes some of you happy and feel better really does make me happy and feel better and motivated to write more.

I've had a couple alternative endings to this series, and I think this one is the best (among the others), but if you want to know what the other endings are, feel free to drop me an ask! Or simply tell me what you expected from this chapter before knowing the actual ending here!

Okay, bye, thank you for putting up with my extra ass! Kissy, Allie.❤︎

___________________________

Harry ended up spending the rest of his afternoon chatting with his assigned nurse. He'd told the old woman about what had been going on in his life, how he'd met Y/N, the dreams he'd had ever since his trip to the museum, the faces in those dreams that looked just like her. And even though it did feel nice to finally get all this burden off his chest, he still found it strange that she barely opened up about herself. All he knew about her was that her name was Margaret, or Maggie as she preferred to be called, and she lived alone, no husband, no children, and had been working as a nurse for as long as she could remember.

"I have a feeling that we've met before," he told her at last because it had been bothering him since they first met. 

But the woman just looked at him in surprise as she said she didn't think so. "Although, you do remind me of someone I used to know." She studied the look on his face, pondering for a little while.

"Oh, who is it?" He asked.

"I had a niece, she fell madly in love with a young man whom you remind me of."

"Had?"

"She...passed away years ago, unfortunately."

Harry could see the clear change in her facial expression when she said those words, so he didn't want to dig too deep into that hurtful memory of hers, even though he was curious to know about the man who resembled him. However, it was Maggie who continued with this topic he thought she wanted to avoid.

"That young man was very passionate about my dear Annalise as you are for the girl you love."

"Her name was Annalise?"

"Yes, it means Grace of God. I helped her mother pick that name."

"Very beautiful, ma'am." Harry pressed his lips into a smile when he saw how hers was beaming as she talked about her beloved niece. "I'm sure Annalise and her man were very happy together?"

"No. They never got together." Maggie shook her head slowly. "His family didn't want him to be with her and he didn't have a choice."

"So after she...uhm..."

"Passed away?"

"Yes, after she passed away, what happened to him?"

There was a long pause as the old lady's eyes shifted to her feet, and Harry felt like he never should've asked that question. He took a wild guess that the young man must've had the same tragic ending as the girl, if that was true, then this was definitely the most heartbreaking story he'd heard in a long time.

"He moved on, married the girl his family wanted him to marry, but he never stopped loving her. He died of a heart attack, and his last word was her name."

Harry felt a lump in his throat and he had no idea why. He was really hurting over a story of two strangers whom he knew nothing about. His faith in true love had always been faint, after hearing this he had completely lost hope.

"Had the timing been different, they could've ended up together," he said, breaking the melancholy silence that had taken over the atmosphere surrounding them.

Maggie released a long heavyhearted sigh as she crossed her legs and leaned back against the chair. She stopped to think for a moment, then she told him, "but I like to think they'll meet each other and start again in another life. Because true love never dies. Do you agree?"

No. Harry didn't.

He thought people had had enough chances in one lifetime already and God wouldn't be so merciful to offer endless trials for them to try and fix their mistakes again and again, lifetime after lifetime. Despite so, he still told Maggie he agreed with her and added, "I'll have my fingers crossed for the two of them."

As he was about to move on to another, more cheerful topic to discuss, the old lady spoke up again, "she wrote him a letter every single day they'd spent together."

"Oh, did he get a chance to read them?"

"He did. I gave them to him myself. He was very emotional, he burst into tears."

"Wow..."

"Before he passed away he gave them back to me." Maggie rose from the chair by his hospital bed and went to grab her purse, which sat on the table by the window. "I have them with me here, do you want to read them?"

"You bring them with you to work?"

The perplexity on his face made her smile as she pulled out a pile of papers which seemed pretty old, they'd turned to a yellowish brown and were all a bit torn at the edges. "I was moving to a new home today so I brought them with me, I don't want to put them with the rest of the other stuff in my flat, they're very fragile."

"I don't think I should read them, they're very personal, ma'am." Harry shook his head when she gave the letters to him.

"You're an artist, aren't you? Maybe these love letters will inspire you in your songwriting. And I know my darling Ann would love to share them with people who have the same heart as the man she loved."

Did she just say Ann? That was the name Harry had heard many times in his dreams about Y/N. But he could be wrong.

"I'm gonna leave them here for you to read. You have nothing fun to do around here anyway," Maggie chuckled then walked away from his bed, not expecting a reply from her confused patient.

.

.

Madam Maggie told Edward she'd come to him because of Ann. She's asked her to. Before the fire incident, Ann had a bad feeling, which she just assumed had something to do with Edward marrying someone else. Little did she know, that bad feeling she'd thought was insignificant ended up costing her her own life.

In her despair, the poor girl had snuck outside of the castle to see Madam Maggie and asked for two little favors. Thanked to Ann's favors, Madam Maggie showed up just in time to find an unconscious Edward lying on the floor of his chamber.

"Her powers allowed her to detect sickness, she knew you had a weak heart, which was also why you fainted earlier. She didn't have the heart to tell you, so she came to see me."

"Ann asked you to cure me?" Edward inquired, placing a hand on the left side of his chest, only to get disappointed by the answer he received from this woman.

"I can make you feel less pain, but I don't think I can cure you completely. Witches can fix broken bones and mend wounds, but we cannot magic away something so permanent like the heart disease you've carried since the day you were born."

Edward nodded understandingly. He seemed so unbothered for someone who had just found out his heart had been unwell since his birth. That was when you know he was, in entirety, wrecked. Ann's death had caused him such pain that nothing else, not even a stab in the gut by the sharpest blade would be able to hurt him that much.

"On the night we met, she fixed the wound on my leg," he said with a fractured grin and tears in his emerald eyes. "And I was supposed to be afraid of her, that was the first time in my life I'd ever seen witchcraft." He chuckled but there was no humor in the sound of it, just utter desolation. "But the look in her eyes made me feel safe...and suddenly I wasn't afraid anymore. I knew she was a good person."

"She said the same thing about you. She really loved you."

"And I let her down...Maybe...Maybe this sickness should just kill me so I can finally be with her." He took a long pause and shifted his eyes to the window by his bed, sucking in a long breath while contemplating whether or not he should say this out loud. He thought he should. "Before you got here, I nearly jumped out of that window."

"Why didn't you?" Madam Maggie calmly asked as if she'd already known, both what he'd tried to do, and the reason he'd chosen not to do it.

"I made a promise to Ann that I would be a good King. I have to live to fulfill that promise."

"It's good that you're still thinking straight." The woman flashed a smile, reaching out to hold his hand which laid lifelessly by his unresponsive body. "I haven't told you the real reason I'm here. Ann also asked me another favor."

"What is it?" He asked.

Madam Maggie thought that this was the most alive he'd looked since she first saw him. She confided, "did you know she'd been writing you letters?"

"N-No..."

"She had. Everyday, from the first day she set foot in this castle, to the night before they locked her away. She felt something bad was gonna happen so she brought them to me and asked me to keep them for a while. She told me she'd come back for them, hopefully with you by her side. She was very sure that you two would end up running away together." When she finished that sentence, Madam Maggie couldn't control her emotions anymore. Tears started to shed from her eyes, running down the crinkles at the corners of her chapped lips to land onto her worn out dress. Edward squeezed her hand a bit tighter, as he could deeply sympathize with her loss.

"Before she left she gave me a kiss on the cheek...Like she always did whenever we said goodbye...I didn't think—" That sentence was never finished for the old woman couldn't speak anymore. She began sobbing into the palm of her other hand. And Edward did as well. It was the first time he'd really cried ever since he last saw her, and he thought the agony he was feeling then would be his life sentence.

.

.

.

Harry woke up, gasping for air, again.

He was back in his hospital room, the only sound other than his own ragged breathing and riotous heartbeats was the beeping of one of the machines placed beside his bed. This time, he had a dream about Y/N stuck in a burning house, he risked his own life to run inside to save her but she couldn't come with him. So he held her close and let the flame swallow them whole. The dreams he'd been having had become more real recently, and he guessed his mild fear of the hospital had something to do with it. Fortunately, Harry wouldn't have to stay there much longer. The doctors had said, for some reasons they could not explain, his heart's condition had been slowly going back to normal, as if it'd healed on its own. By this time tomorrow, he could finally be home.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows then reached out to grab the glass of water his nurse had left on the bedside table. That was when he saw the pile of letters she'd put right under it. He slowly sat up, finishing his water, putting the empty glass back on the table, then with a little bit of hesitation, he took the letters and brought them to his lap.

When Harry scanned his eyes through the first line, which was the date, he almost thought his eyes were mistaken. The year was 1509, which was 510 years ago! Was this supposed to be a joke? Or was it just a thing this girl Annalise always did with her lover? Maybe it was a secret message only they knew. Now, Harry couldn't put the letters down without finishing every single one of them.

So Harry began to read, every single word. It took him only halfway through the first letter to realize this wasn't from just 'a few years ago' like Maggie had said. This was a letter from a peasant girl named Ann written to a Prince, Edward Rammour, no other than the man in the portrait, in the museum where the series of strange events and bizarre dreams of Harry's started.

The girl, Ann, wrote about their first met, about their little moments together, about the look in his eyes when he looked at her, about the things he said that he didn't pay attention to but she remembered every single word. And Harry knew every single detail in here, he'd seen them countless of times in his dreams, in which the girl who was supposed to be Ann, looked like Y/N. But the last few letters were all from her point of view so he didn't know what was gonna happen. She talked about not being able to see him as much, about doubting his love for her, about believing in his love for her again when he snuck out to visit her one night, about the things people in the castle said about her even in her presence, about a princess named Emilié who was betrothed to the Prince and hated her deeply, about receiving his letter one night asking her to meet him in the library. And in the last paragraph of the very last letter, she wrote about how happy she was because she believed they were gonna run away together. Harry's heart wrenched in anguish for he knew that wasn't what had happened.

In a millisecond, all the lost memories flooded back to him. Harry now remembered. Everything.

He remembered her screaming and shouting and begging him to save her and not let them take her away, and he didn't save her, he watched them take her away. He remembered saying goodbye to her one last time. He remembered the look on her face before the door shut between them, He remembered telling her he loved her, forever, and so he did. He loved her forever.

He remembered everything.

And on the hospital bed, he burst into tears, and those tears fell down and blurred out the handwriting of the girl who'd been dead for hundreds of years, yet kept alive inside his heart.

"Little Annalise had always preferred to be called Ann."

He lifted his head quickly and saw Maggie at the door. He didn't ask her to explain, he already knew what was going on. "Is Y/N...is she..."

"Yes, she is." The woman gave him a nod. "Did you feel strange when you looked into her eyes?" He did. "The eyes are the windows to a person's soul. That was why when you looked into hers, as well as...your own...in that painting in the museum, you felt a sense of familiarity that you couldn't explain. Same souls, trapped in two different bodies"

"How is this even possible?" Harry grimaced, trying to put two and two together on his own, but it wasn't that simple. "Why are there only two of us? Do the other...Does this happen to them too? How are you still alive?!"

"I'm the head witch, I'm immortal. Not even fire could kill me," she said, smiling as she approached his bed and sat down on the chair where she'd sat earlier.

Taking in a deep breath, she began, “when a person dies, his or her soul breaks into tiny pieces, each creates a new life. They start again as different people with no memories of the lives they used to have. But Ann already casted a spell on you, on both of you actually. That spell keeps your souls from unraveling and also connected to each other. So you’ve met in every single lifetime, and had many chances to start over. But this is the closest you’ve ever got to the ending she wanted for you two.”

"Why did it take me until today, this lifetime, to remember?"

"Because it took me that many centuries to have found you." Maggie sighed. "I usually found Ann first, but as there are more and more people on the Earth nowadays, it's really difficult to track her down. Every time I arrived in the past, it was already too late. But this time, I guess God does show some mercy after all. He brought me to you instead."

"So you working here is all a coincidence."

"A magical coincidence. I almost didn't believe it when I saw you here." She showed him a smile. And even though Harry had calmed down by now, he was still in shock. "Edward asked me to give you these letters, he thought only them would help you remember."

"W-Why should I remember if...if every time we got together one of us died?"

"Because only when you remember, would this story be over."

.

.

.

"Are you sure you want me to have them?"

Edward nodded, pushing the letters into Madam Maggie's hand as he insisted, "you're the only hope for me to find her."

She really was. Madam Maggie said once Ann had reincarnated into a new body, she would be able to feel her, and even if it might take a lot of effort to find her and convince her to believe she was Ann, it was possible.

Honestly, Edward didn't really believe in life after death. But he hadn't believed in witches until he met Ann, and she was real. Sometimes he still wished she hadn't been real. Maybe if she'd been a dream, a beautiful dream, then he would just sleep forever and never wake up.

"But how did you know it was the only way to break the spell?" He asked Madam Maggie, eyes on the letters. She could sense the sound of fear and doubt in his trembling voice.

"I just knew when you first told me, dear." She put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "She said it herself, only when you've found her in another life, could you two finally be together."

Edward exhaled though his mouth as recalled his lover's last words. She did say so, after she'd kissed him. The kiss. He realized it now! That kiss was when she put a spell on them both!

"Destiny is a funny thing, it's like a chess game, if you can't win, you lose." Madam Maggie took a deep breath and slowly let it all out. "Destiny wants to keep you two apart, so it will make sure you two are forever kept apart no matter what. Ann tried to break the rules, so by finding her she meant, you, finding Ann, not whoever she'd be in the next lifetime, or many after that. If you fail to recognize her but still try to break the rules by being with her, then destiny does what it has to, history repeats itself. One of you will pay the price."

Edward opened his mouth to ask another question, yet Madam Maggie shushed him right before he could release a single sound. "You should get some rest, your coronation is tomorrow."

Then she walked away, disappeared into the darkness of the long corridor. And that was also the last time he ever saw her.

"Edward! Wait, darling!" The voice caught Edward's attention, and he turned around, wishing he hadn't. His mother ran up to him, sounding so desperate as she pleaded, "darling, we need to talk!"

"No, we don't," he said coldly and started walking away. But she chased after him and managed to grab him by the arm.

"I understand that you don't want to speak to your wife but I am—"

"She's not my wife!" He shouted, but the frightened look on her face made him weak again. "It's only a title. Tomorrow she might be the Queen of England, but she will never be my wife."

"You cannot say that! You have to give her a chance! You need a son to rule after you!"

"I don't want a son so he would grow up with a mother like that. I don't want him to suffer the same way I am." Edward hoped those words did hurt the Queen, he hoped the pain shown on her face was genuine. However, he didn't know anymore, he didn't believe in it. Was there anything, or anyone in this castle, 'genuine'? "Emilié had told me everything, mother. You sent Ann in there...knowing father could hurt her. You were willing to destroy a young girl's life just to make sure I'd stay for the throne. Now I am King, are you happy now?"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You, same as Emilié, same as father, love no one but yourself!" Each and every one of those word was a knife pierced right through his chest. "The only one who's ever loved me for me, and not who I am, or going to be, was Ann, and now she's dead."

"I am still your mother..."

"You are not." He shook his head slowly, trying not to cry because she wasn't worth anymore of his tears. He'd suffered enough. "I loved you, I really loved you."

Loved. The sound of it crushed the Queen's dark heart into dust, and she thought she might collapse onto the floor had she been able to feel any of her muscle. She was frozen right where she stood, eyes wide, jaw dropped, heartbroken, staring at the son she'd let down. They could've just continued to stand there until sunrise, had the conversation been interrupted by the arrival of the Chief Minister.

"There you are, Your Highness!" Exclaimed the man, who sounded so thrilled since he didn't know what was happening here. "I already had everything you asked prepared for the coronation tomorrow morning. Also Piersilvio, the famous Italian painter, he wanted to paint your portrait as a gift. He would arrive at court soon after the ceremony."

"Good." Edward nodded as he exhaled sharply. "Anything else?"

"No, Your Highness."

"It's 'Your Majesty' to you now."

"Yes...My apologies...Your Majesty..." The Chief Minister hung his head to show respect to the new young King as he was startled by the change in Edward's attitude. He was afraid he might been in trouble for addressing the monarch in the wrong way, but Edward didn't pay much attention to it.

"Have a good evening, His Excellency. Could you please escort the Queen Mother back to her bed chamber?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

When Edward absented himself, he heard his mother desperately screaming out his name, begging him to forgive her. However, he turned a deaf ear to all the things she said. He was no different from a dead man walking.

.

.

.

There were indeed plenty of museums in London, more than 170 of them. Countless of visitors came and went every single day. What were the chances of two person returning to the same museum, every single day, to sit in front of the same painting? Surely very little.

For the first few days the pair were there, nobody really noticed. For almost two weeks, they began to. Everyday before the museum was closed, a young man and a young woman would arrive and stare at the portrait of Edward Rammour, and then they left when everyone else did. Some people thought they were lovers who shared the same passion with art, some said they were sad, depressed, and lonely, some said they were crazy. However, nobody actually came and asked them what their story was. Maybe if someone had, they would've told them.

"How long are you gonna keep tormenting yourself?" Asked Jason as he sat down by his best friend's side on the bench in front of the painting and handed her a donut, which she refused.

"Until I get my memories back..."

"That's impossible."

"Why?" She snorted. "I think I just need a bit more time with this painting, and it'll all come back to me. She wanted me to remember. That was why she cursed me as well."

"We don't really know what she wanted." Jason heaved a sigh. "Maybe she wanted the King to pay for his mistake by cursing him, but she didn't think about how it would also affect her in her new lives."

That theory seemed justifying, but Y/N knew it wasn't the truth. People wouldn't want themselves to be bound together for eternity with someone they loathed. She knew the woman she used to be still loved the King despite it all. If only she could remember what had really happened.

"He's back in London you know," Jason broke the silence between the two of them, hand reaching out to hold hers. He thought she might pull away like many times before, but this time she didn't. She stayed still where she was, emotionless, unbothered. "Have you listened to his new song? It's about you."

"I have. I love it. I wish I could tell him."

"You should reach out to him...if you want to."

"I can't, you know I can't." The lump in her throat when she thought about him made it hard for her to breathe. "Not until I know how to break the curse. If we tried to be together, there would be consequences."

"So you're gonna spend your entire life, sitting in front of this painting, trying to remember a life you had...five centuries ago?"

A simple "yes" was her answer. And Jason knew nothing else to say. He wanted what was best for her, and he thought separating her from Harry would fix everything. But everything became worse. She'd been losing sleep, her nightmares got more real and hard to wake up from. Still her memories of her past life were still dust in a desert.

Jason asked her if she was thirsty, she said no, but he said he would go buy her something to drink anyway. He then laid a kiss on her cheek and stood up to go. She was once again left alone. Actually, she wasn't alone.

She could feel him near. She didn't even need to turn around to know he was there. She just did. And she was afraid to look because her feelings could be wrong, and if he wasn't standing right behind her she would be so disappointed. That was when his voice rang right through her ear. The first thing he said wasn't 'hi' or 'hello' or 'how have you been?' Or even her name.

It was, "I've found you."

Y/N rose from the bench to turn around, facing Harry at last. He was wearing an expensive trench coat, hands in its pockets, his grey flat cap made sure half of his face was covered, but there was no way she could mistaken him with anyone else. Time seemed to stop when they locked eyes, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt something she'd never felt before. She parted her lips, wanting to speak, yet no word escaped for she had no idea what to say. He said he'd found her, but she knew he didn't mean finding her, here, in this museum, it was something else, almost like—

"Of course you don't remember...I...uhm—" he mumbled, as if he was talking to himself. Then a dimpled smile crept up on his face only to vanish as soon as Jason returned with a bottle of water for Y/N.

She didn't know what was going on in Harry's mind at that point, and Harry didn't say a word either. He turned his heels just as Jason recognized him, and quickly made tracks to the nearest exit.

Her eyes quickly followed his familiar figure to that door over there, then all the sounds around her became muted at once. She didn't even hear Jason asking her what had just happened, instead she heard Harry's footsteps echoing inside the walls of her brain as they were fading away. He spun his head and sent her one last look before the door was closed between the two of them. Time stopped. It wasn't Harry that she saw.

She saw Edward.

She saw him being dragged away from her by the men in amours. She heard her own deafening screams as well as his. She saw the flames on the torches on the brick walls mirroring in his green eyes. She saw him mouthing the words 'I love you' to her. The door shut between them two, and she snapped back to reality. Everything vanished. The room, the guards, the flames, the torches, him.

She remembered it now, everything.

"Y/N! Y/N! Where are you going?!" Jason shouted after her as she started running fast, pushing her way through a crowd of tourists, who screamed at her for being so rude. Then she burst through that door and she screamed out his name, causing many heads to turn around. There was only one face among them that mattered.

When she saw him she didn't hesitate. Hell, she'd been waiting for this moment for too long, 500 years! Now, she could finally fall into his embrace. Her head against his chest, and she was finally home.

Shocked as he was, Harry didn't resist the hug. He chose to ignore all the judging stares they were receiving and clung onto her, eyes squeezed shut, lips pressed to her forehead.

"Why did you walk away?" She pulled back to look up at him with a pucker between her brows, all out of breath, yet laughing uncontrollably.

"You were...with someone else..." He sounded hurt and confused, it only made her laugh harder.

"That's my best friend Jason, you've met him before, remember?" she cried out, voice trembling because she'd never been so happy that she choked on her own words. "I was waiting for you. I've been waiting for you for so long."

"Wait, so you..."

"I remember." She nodded fast, arms tightened around his waist. "I remember exactly what was going through my head in that tower. I remember feeling so scared when I was on the stake. I remember the last image in my head was you. I remember...telling you to find me in another life so we could finally be together...And you did, Harry you found me."

When she touched his face, Harry felt as if there was magic on her fingertips. He dug his nose into her palm, sniffing away his own tears as he wiped away the ones that were rolling down her cheeks. He heard the sound of the camera shutter somewhere behind her, behind him, on his left, and his right, knowing their reunion could've already made the news already, yet he couldn't care less.

"How did you know I was here?" She asked, still cupping his cheeks with no intention of letting him go.

"I came to your house and Lisa told me." He paused. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I needed over a week to think of what to say to you before coming here so I wouldn't sound insane...I even brought your letters—"

"How do you have the letters?" Her eyes grew wide, mouth slightly opened. "Wait, have you...have you met her?" Y/N felt like her heart could burst from joy when he nodded his head, telling her yes. "Where is she?! Is she here?!"

"No, but I'll take you to her, love. She really misses you," he told her while looking around and spotting a couple sneaky paparazzi. So he locked his fingers around her wrist and urged her to come with him and get out of here so they could finally tell each other everything that had happened.

"Harry, wait!" Y/N tugged on his arm when he was about to pull her with him. "I...I need you to kiss me now so I can be sure neither of us is gonna die."

Her pretentious fear made Harry burst into laughter. With no hesitation, he cupped her cheeks with both hands, bringing his face down to hers so the tips of their noses brushed against each other, then with their lips only one breath apart, he whispered to her, "queen of my heart."

He kissed her exactly how she wanted to be kissed, like it was their first, last, everything they had left to lose. This passionate and timeless moment put an official end to the series of misery that had lasted for five centuries long. And people who walked past King Edward's portrait that day could swear when they told the story, of how they saw the man in the painting, smile.

[elegiesforshiva]

This is a review for the amazing sasusaku fanfic Perpetual Winter by @thefangirlslair It’s a brilliant modern AU and I highly recommend it!!!  You can read it on fanfiction.net or tumblr :)))) FF: c l i c kkkk Tumblr: Part I, Special Chapter, Part II And time for a criminally late and obscenely long review!!!

Pt I

Winter has never been his favorite season

Damn what an intro, I’m already getting angst vibes lmao.  I really like how you set the scene and stage the world of this AU.  I didn’t expect the existence of clans in this piece, with it being a modern AU, but this is such a fascinating twist on the setting to me. I loved how you described Naruto’s endurance as unnatural, “like there’s a demon living inside him” and Sasuke and his clan have inexplicable warmth….inexplicable do I dare say…fire ???? ;))))))

Lmao seriously what a great way to pay homage to canon though.  I love these attributes!

Modern au Sasuke that reads poetry and drinks coffee is a brand of pretentiousness I can get behind

Aaaaaaa omg I really REALLY REALLY fucking love this intro!  I love how you describe Sasuke as appreciating liveliness, and vibrance—which we can honestly assume is canon with how his two closest people are the embodiment of these traits.  And I love how you tie it back into the seasons.  This really gives so much life to that motif in this story, and the title. That was clever af

…he was taken back to the time where winter was just a mere season, Bon Iver was playing on their shared earphones, and Sakura was his. 

WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST FUCKING DESTROYED ME WHAT A WAY TO SEGWAY INTO THE NEXT SCENE OOOOF IM KSJDFHLJSAKFL

There are so many things I love about this following scene…  you really know how to write a couple in casual, mutual love.  The banter and candidness of their interaction just has me floored. I also REALLY love that this is from Sasuke’s perspective, and how even though he doesn’t have an overwhelming amount of dialogue, we’re in his head, and his appreciation and love for Sakura just radiates.  Lines like these:  

From her latest discovered band to a recent discovery in medicine by a genius dude whose name he doesn’t even remember, she shares it with him. Favorite anime character, favorite memory with him, favorite pair of underwear — he knows it all because she’s that open to him about things she love.

They’re just….so good. I can hear his voice, his ardor, and his impeccable understanding of Sakura’s personality while also expressiong his own.  The choice of having the narrative skewed through his lens was def a good decision. And ugh this piece is just overwhelmingly amazing already

He doesn’t know the pain to be dealt with when you’ve broken up with someone because Sakura was his first girlfriend. And honestly, he doesn’t, couldn’t, even think about being apart from her. Just the thought of them breaking up already makes him panic a little. He always thought to himself, ‘I will never let that happen.’

Okay this paragraph……………this paragraph tho……..dropping this.  KNOWING. They’re gonna break up……….HOW DARE U

Seriously, what powerful writing.  I don’t know how you do it……

I think it’s incredibly interesting that you chose music to be the catalyst for this beautiful, climactic moment of closeness  My best friend/partner and I have had convos before about it, and she and i once talked about how we think of sex with music lol.  I don’t know how to entirely explain myself on that, or where I’m really going with this, but I get the same vibe here too.  Music that’s close to you is like an artistic intimacy and there’s something very personal and vulnerable about it.  Maybe it’s an auditory thing, like getting lost in one of those guided meditations.  (idk if you’ve ever had one that actually worked, they don’t always for me, but when they do god damn, it’s unreal)  Either way, I really loved the way this scene played out, it was highly relatable and highly emotional, and I feel serenity and ardor just reading it.  Beautifully done.

I love the way you moved back to the present and we immediately feel the differences and the similarities.  The fondness and affection is still there, if not a little more muted, and it’s so obvious they still have feelings for each other.  But there’s definitely moments that speak to their separation too, with the little differences in Sakura that Sasuke notices, or instances like her no longer drinking coffee or him deciding to open the door.

I really like how you inserted the interaction with Kakashi too.  One thing I’m quickly noticing about this fic and your writing is how you very stealthily relay information to us readers.  It’s seamless and entertaining, and I’m learning about this world and the past in ways that are so attention grabbing I don’t even notice it.

Also Itachi’s death and the way you handled it from Sasuke’s pov is so reminiscent of canon and also so gut wrenching.  The lines 

How dare Itachi leave him alone? How dare Itachi sacrifice himself and die? How dare Itachi pass his responsibilities onto his shoulders… 

especially gutted me because of how is stands in stark parallels to the Sasuke we know in canon.  This really smacked my head around with feels….poor Sasuke

OMFG POOR SASUKE !!!?!?!??!?!??!? THAT ENDING OOOLOGDSLGFSLKDGHLSDHFLKDFHVSLKV WHAT A FUCKING CURVE BALL LMAO

I mean maybe I should have seen that coming because like of course!!!  But also I’M LOSING M Y SHIT HAHAHAHAAA

I can’t wait to see how this unfolds!!!!!

Special Chapter

This is such a powerful scene to start with.  Itachi’s entire character was such a major influence in canon and seeing the way his death is affecting everyone now is so emotional.  I feel so bad for Sasuke, having to take on all the burdens Itachi had left behind for him.

Also these lines:

“Mikoto cried, “Don’t you think it’s too soon? I just buried my first-born just barely a week ago and now we’re discussing how you’re gonna ruin my youngest’s life just like you did with Itachi?!”

The way her voice cracked when she said his brother’s name broke his heart. She’s still grieving, probably forever, and here they are talking about Sasuke’s suicide.”

Literally killed me. Dead.  Deceased.  Fallen to the Void.  It’s so brilliant and powerful, and speaks so deeply on their dysfunctional family dynamics and feelings with so few lines.  Really loved this…

This next scene was so stark and sad and beautiful.  I meant to comment and pull lines again, but I couldn't stop reading tbh.  Sasuke's thoughts and emotions concerning Sakura are so vividly gentle and full of praise.  There's such a soft worship in the way you write his feelings towards her and tbh it's my absolute and only interpretation of feelings I care for concerning the depiction of their relationship.  Still, you do this with a certain cleverness and mastery.  It's really so moving for me...

The dream sequence that follows is absolutely debilitating, but so well done.  I got the sense it was a dream only a few lines in just from the bluntness of the lines.  It was truly very dream-like lol.  I really could feel the panic and guilt along all of his inner turmoil.  It's incredibly horrific to have such a dream about murder just after Itachi's too.  This was devastating.

I really loved the way Sakura calms him groom the panic/anxiety attack.  I've actually had a similar experience once, where I woke up from a nightmare and I was very frightened and stiff and couldn't really articulate myself.  I remember I had felt deep horror and self loathing and nothing else.  (I still remember the nightmare too, it was horrible.)  My best friend at the time just threw herself on the bed and held me.

It's so crazy how grounding touch can be.  I really felt that with Sasuke and Sakura too.  The comfort she offers him is so seamless to her character and so ardently palpable.  The repetition of "I got you" really touched me especially.  It breaks my heart knowing the inevitable end of their relationship to come.

Oooooohhhh daaamnnnnn

I did NOT see the raunchy sex coming lmfao!!  Although in hindsight, I probably should have.  You already told us how they tend to get down and dirty when emotions run high with the arguments and make-up sex.  I imagine this is instigated by Sasuke often, with him struggling to articulate his need for Sakura verbally so he does so physically.  And I imagine Sakura is just kinky enough to crave this sort of animal want.  

I do love how sexual interactions are easily moving in tandem with their emotions, how it just feels like another mode of communication.  Sasuke breaking down during it leaves me feeling so tender too.  It's tragic

She smiled. Sasuke doesn't know if he wants that smile or not.

These exit lines are going to fucking kill me istg

The following events honestly hurts to read because Damn haven't we all been there...  the fallout of a relationship to the point where you're just dragging it through the mud… it’s a true deterioration of soul and you capture that slow death so well.  I really feel terrible for Sakura—Sasuke too—but it sucks for her to be in the dark like this.  

I love the way you write Karin!!!  Honestly, I think it really mirrors the way she's written in canon.  She's cold and strategically loud and generally calculating and overall kind of apathetic.  She doesn't really know the value of meaningful relationships (and therefore doesn't prioritize them) until much later on in the series.  I definitely get this sense of her here too.  She's a little cold, but not cruel, and she has the pragmatic values of her and Sasuke's union in mind as she agrees to it all.  I really like how you made her personality come through here.

Meanwhile there’s him, sucking all the hard traits from their father. His competitive streak, arrogant way of speaking, harsh words — it’s all Fugaku. And suddenly, he feels so exhausted.

This line hit me so hard. I love this fic already for an endless number of reasons but a striking one is how well you interrogate the relationships between family.  When you described Itachi’s death as Sasuke losing a part of him, I really felt that. And here when you write about the way Sasuke takes after Fugaku and hates it and is also exasperated from it, just like how his father likely is, it just runs bone deep.  You really know how to speak to life experiences and relationships in consistently intimate ways.  I love that about you

This is his reality now — no more dream, no more Itachi; and pretty soon, no more Sakura.

’It hurts,’ Sasuke thought. 'It hurts, aniki.’  

Wow death by angst lmao thanks for the pain, maren, glad to know you like to torture your readers as much as our ninja babies.  Srsly tho the cadence of these lines and the material itself sync up perfectly.  It’s such powerful writing

This entire scene is stuffed to the brim with dread and turbulence, and it’s so lifelike, I feel it’s haunting.  The way you describe the suffocating atmosphere of the car ride, how Sasuke snaps at Sakura for simply knowing that something is up, the awkwardness of the dinner… You really brought so much passion into these scenes, I feel like I’m being tortured right with them lol

I looooooove the drama of this playing out omg.  The way you have this convo go down is like a punch to the gut.  Sakura announcing her acceptance to Harvard, and then her refusal to go. Sasuke knowing he’s the reason why…the guilt…the anger…

Also omfg these lines:

Sasuke hardened his resolve and stiffly said, “No. I don’t need you, Sakura.”

’Yes, I do.’

Sakura shook her head, “Yes, you do.”

I DIED.  Sakura callin’ him out on his bull shit I fucking LOST IT lmaooOOooo   I love this so much and I love how you write their dynamic!  It’s funny how this fic plays into a lot of romantic clichés but also subverts them—gives them a twist that knocks the reader right off their feet. It’s honestly incredible

I loved the way you brought in winter into this scene too.  The image of it, the feel of it, the terrible, lonely tone.  It suits the entire mood of it all.

This is going to sound super dumb but I genuinely love how much agency you give Sakura btw.  You probably know I’m a raging, batshit feminist by now and I gotta say, her dialogue is consistently powerful and reeks of someone who knows who they are, and their worth, even when in the fallout of a relationship where they are getting the short end of the stick.  Like I’m just sitting here reading “Sasuke, you dumb jackass, what are you doing” lmfaoooo LIKE GURL I WOULD TREAT U SO GOOD…. SAKU BB IM SO SORRY BUT ALSO TRUST I KNOW HOW IT BE

I really do love it.  And I love how you wrote Sakura as an orphan too.  It really flips the script on the canon material (eat shit, kishimoto!!  Women can have trauma and real backstories not centered around men, u misogynistic pile of adskjfhsklhfalkd)  I just feel she’s very well written, and tangible, and powerfully human.  I’d be just as smitten as Sasuke tbh

The last scene is so upsetting… it’s also strangely warming too though.  It’s terrible Sasuke’s been broken down like this, but there’s something about this scene where he feels raw, and expresses his pain in a very infantile way, literally crying out to his mother about how it hurts.  I really feel he’s been stripped of not just his life, but himself, under the weight of Itachi’s death and all that’s come with it, and it makes my heart ache.  I loved this chapter, in all it’s infinite sadness.

Part II

He closed his eyes and thought about his talk with his father earlier, “We’re okay now. He called me while I was with Itachi.”

Love the ease and depth of this single line of dialogue.  How Itachi is not alive but is still with him, and how it speaks to the way we humans grieve and the continuity and strength of relationships even after someone leaves.  It’s just very simple and human, and it popped out at me.

He couldn’t even remember the last time they talked on the phone, or the last time he heard Fugaku as a father, not as the Uchiha patriarch.

Uggghhhhhhh this is exactly how I felt Fugaku was like in canon too.  This fic is just full of brilliance, I really adore the way you describe all the relationships, but the complexity between Sasuke’s and Fugaku’s is really striking to me.  You nail it perfectly.

And this whole intro where Fugaku apologizes to Sasuke and tells him he is proud…. I feel as if a major levee has been broken.  While he’s in front of Itachi’s grave too.  This Sasuke really has that same parallel with the one in canonverse where I feel he is held back by his family trauma, family obligations, the weight of blood.  And this scene feels like a breaking point.  Where Sasuke can be a man instead of an Uchiha, in the same way Fugaku gives him this moment as a father instead of an Uchiha patriarch.  It certainly feels like a cleansing of sorts.

Once you thought you’re over it, one pink-haired beacon of spring will bloom in your eternal winter and blow all your progress into next week. What a woman. He will never find anyone better.

AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA !!!! this IS what I mean!!!  His inner thoughts of her ugh….i’m so weak…Sasuke you lovesick fool…. And the return of the beautiful seasons motif.  I love this so much

 You can say they were drunk — with liquor, with each other, with love.

I just adore this line. It really emphasizes the vibe of their past relationship and the picture as a whole, and just that electric feeling of being consumed with someone.  The description and cadence of it is just really catching, and I love it

 God, this entire scene. Damn, maren.  It’s criminal how well you write the tension of such a casual conversation.  It feels as if an interrogation of sorts is occurring, and yet it’s still a heartwarming kind. Sakura is not vicious or mal-intentioned in inquiries and yet it still leaves Sasuke weak and defenseless if only because of his feelings for her.  There’s so many ways you assert it too.  It’s in every line, every detail.  This one in particular stood out to me:

Sasuke clenched his fist under the table and scoffed, “I hope my mother didn’t tell you how miserable I was.”

'Still am,’ he corrected in his mind. 'How miserable I still am.’

I remember you used this particular tactic when also describing Itachi’s feelings from Sasuke’s POV. (Something along the lines of how he does became how he did because he is gone)  In this fic where time is moving back and forward in a non-linear fashion, these details are especially striking.  Despite the changes and pushes and pull, this one fact is consistent—Sasuke loves Sakura.  And we, as readers, relearn it with every line.

Also I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOvE that Mikoto saw Sakura off, and that there is this undertone of a bond. Like ughhhhh I’ve so been there, where there’s that depth of understanding between women and relationships that men don’t always know about or know how to grapple with it.  My ex resented me for it lmfao

Adkjfasklfalsjdkfakls SASUKE CAN RELATE TO HIM APPARENTLY AHAHAHAAHHA B SNAPPEDDDD I totally get it though, it’s a little intrusive of Sakura to ask for that, but we all also know why she did.  Poor saku bb is in love with this emotionally constipated idiot lmao.  Oh I love the endless pining and miscommunication of it all !!!

“I thought you’d be here,” a voice came and knocked on the closed door of his heart. He turned his face towards it, he saw her and suddenly his doors came opening again.

The winter sun was directly behind her, giving her this eerie glow. Like a nymph; a spring nymph being born in his perpetual winter. He shivered inside.

Back at it again with that seasonal motif !!!! ugh you are killing me.  I also really loved the phrase “knocked on the closed door of his hear.”  You really have such a way with these metaphors and images, it’s so striking and makes the narrative of this piece so brilliant

and silence is a comfortable companion back then. When they became lovers, it was like their platonic third-wheel aside from Naruto.

Ngl I busted out laughing on that one.  “aside from Naruto” hahaaaa I love the way you include him in this fic tbh.  He’s not a very big focus, but he still feels like an integral part of this story, not just as Sasuke’s best friend, but also as another device to unite Sasuke and Sakura.  Also he’s pretty fantastic comic relief, probably just as much for the two of them as for the reader.

I really love the way this convo goes down, and the change of scenery from the coffee shop to the playground.  Considering the way their love at this point is founded in nostalgia (and perhaps something else, but let’s ignore that for a second) it’s so fitting for them to finally stripping away the masks and cloaks and being genuine with one another—Sakura talking about how she knew all along, and Sasuke finally admitting he still loves her.

I also loved that Karin broke off the engagement!!!!!!  And how she did it and how you described it ughghhghg I love this.  You really spoke to her character growth and development in canon too.  It’s trivial compared to everything else that’s going on, but I love it.

…the pink of her hair, the green of her irises and the gold of the sun slowly setting down behind her.

Sasuke couldn’t see her clearly anymore, only the faint glow of her weeping eyes and the halo on her head made by the sun.

You think you’re slick don’t you…you think you’re some kind of mastermind with these subtle references/images…..well guess what bitch….YOU ARE

  I looooove how you tied the music back in.  Ugh this departure!!  MY HEART!!! Also I’m seeing a handful of songs I love including OUR BOIIIII !!!! rex orange county uhhghhgjak maren this is the romance of a lifetime I AM WEAK

Ughh the forehead kiss…..that was so sweet.  I loved Sakura’s choice to give him that bit of affection.  This scene is so beautifully intimate, despite their positions.

Omg I FINISHED HOLY SHIT!!! And Sasuke doesn’t get back with her! Wow!  Honestly, as much as my shipper heart is like, violently frothing at the mouth and saying “okay they totally got back together down the line tho like THEY HAD TO THEY ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER WHAT IS TH—" I actually have such a deep appreciation for this ending.  Their relationship in this almost feels dream-like, and with the way the story unfolds, even if they still loved each other in the end (and I really don’t doubt that they do.  We don’t have Sakura’s perspective, but we also don’t need it.  the affections are clear) it doesn’t mean they will end up together or are even really suited for each other in such a way.  

Their love in this actually really reminds me of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  Have you seen that movie?  I just really get that vibe at the end.  This entire romance cuts very deep and is very passionate and leaves me feeling so whimsical.  I really loved this story, Maren…  thank you for sharing it with all of us.  thank you for writing it.  You’re really one of a kind and you and this story has my whole heart <333

Also I’m sorry this is so late, but when I said I am going to write you a review, what I meant was I am going to write you a review.  This English degree is good for nothing but sending elaborate love letters to friends and writers in the form of literary analyses and stupid overreactions and BY GOD I WILL NOT LET THIS CRIPPLING COLLEGE DEBT GO TO WASTE !!!

[shatteredhourglass]

Author Meme

Tagged by @kangofu-cb ilu

Author Name:

Shatteredhourglass - but like, five minutes into talking to me I will probably insist on you calling me Ryan. (Author name is too edgy and formal lmao)

Fandoms You Write For:

Only Marvel at the moment - I did think about writing Schitt’s Creek fics at one point, and Umbrella Academy, but I’m happy just writing in my niche at the moment. I write for me, and me likes Clint Barton and Bucky Barnes.

Where You Post:

All of my fics are on AO3 but I also post extra snippets and drabbles on my snippet tag on Tumblr.

Most Popular One-Shot:

Left Foot Forward - Winterhawk, first story I wrote on this account. It needs editing, really, but I never have the energy to work on it. Soulmate AU where Clint has a dead man’s name on his body and no one is allowed to bring it up. 

"Clint," Steve breathed, and his face had a million emotions going through it all at once and Clint knew, he'd already known from that awful day he'd searched the records on the Howling Commandos and found a signature scrawled in an old letter but the look on Steve's face confirmed it. Shit. Steve's fingers brushed the curve of the J reverently, and Clint flinched away.

"Clint, I'm so-"

"Tell me he didn't have my name," Clint croaked out. "Please."

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:

Perfect Tense - Winterhawk, I’m not counting the two-chapter fics I’ve done because those aren’t really multi-chapter, they’re oneshots with extra bits. Avenger!Bucky and Ronin!Clint, flirtation and mystery. 

“Don’t worry, I took care of the ground floor,” the voice continues.

This time he says it out loud. “Shit.”

Ronin - because that’s who it is, fuck, a murderous vigilante has remotely hacked his earpiece - laughs, a warm noise that makes a shiver run down Bucky’s spine. “That’s not very polite, Sergeant Barnes.”

Favourite Story You Wrote:

a little fun (not the number one) - Ameriwinterhawk. Originally I was going to suggest my 40k fic because that’s a lot of story, but this one I’m very proud of. First long triad relationship and it’s got a Lot of feelings in it. I think it’s got a pretty good switch because usually Bucky is the mess of the three, and if it isn’t him it’s Clint. Here, Steve is a flaming trashcan of guilt and feelings (so is Clint) and it satisfies me.

“What happened to Steve?”

“I was going to fly Red to the medics that were waiting a few blocks away, but he stopped me and said he’d take her, and for me to help you,” Tony supplies. “It’s weird- I can fly, it’d be faster my way, but he doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Right,” Clint says. “Right. Okay.”

There goes his last hope that Steve isn’t avoiding him.

The hollow feeling in his chest gets a little bit deeper.

Story You Were Nervous to Post:

falling through the night (and rising from the ashes) - Winterhawk. Anyone who’s read my fics knows I like to cling to parts of canon as much as I can, so upturning that and making a whole new AU was a worry for me. I’m always scared with these sorts of things that the characters won’t feel like themselves for readers. Still, it’s pretty popular, and it’s even been podficced by the wonderful @flowerparrish here (love you.)

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “I’m here until Monday.”

“We’re here til then too,” Clint comments. “Maybe Tuesday, too. There’s a few popular acts on this tour that use all those fancy lighting effects and smoke machines, take ages to pack up. You seen that Beck guy? He shorted out the fucking power grid a few days ago during practice. I think that Winter Soldier guy is around somewhere, if you’re into house or whatever it’s called,” he says, hears Bucky make a choked noise.

Must be a fan of that guy, too.

How Do You Choose Your Titles:

I am the song lyric bandit. Although with me, you do not get earwormed because I have a very obscure and confusing taste in music. One day I’ll find another Sycamour fan.

Do You Outline:

No, no, nope. I tried outlining once and after I was done, I didn’t feel like writing the fic anymore. Now I just wing it.

Complete:

36/39 fics, which is pretty good in my opinion. Can I get a wahoo?

In-Progress:

Two of the unfinished fics are extremely old and will never be finished - the tattoo AU may be rebooted and completely rewritten, but that particular version will be forever unfinished. The third 7/? fic is filled with unconnected Tumblr prompts and is updated whenever I post a snippet here.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:

Ronin!Clint/Avenger!Bucky Sequel:

He wouldn’t be able to handle it, if Bucky asked him to stay.

He’s so scared every time, that Bucky will ask him.

“We need to stop. This,” and here he stops to gesture between himself and Bucky, “needs to stop.”

He pulls his mask on as he’s backing up, and it hides the helpless smile he gets when Bucky stretches, all cocky smirk and bare skin, and says, “so next week?”

Precariously Named Twink!Bucky Fic: 

“What did you do with your time? You know, when you were,” Clint stops here to gesture at Bucky’s whole body, legs splayed and lazy expression on his face. Bucky turns to press his cheek against the couch when he looks at Clint, all relaxed grace and half-lidded eyes. “Like this.”

“Mostly worried about Steve, broke up fights, ‘n had sex with strangers in alleyways,” Bucky says, lips curling up into an indulgent smirk like he’s remembering it. Like he’s thinking about it.

Clint swallows, hard, tries not to look like he’s thinking about it.

Do You Accept Prompts:

I do! I love getting ideas, although I’m so backed up with ideas right now that I might just go into cardiac arrest if I get one more prompt I don’t have time to write.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write:

Okay so I really want to write this but there’s no way I’m going to have time to write it with the MTH auction coming up, so. Maybe in twenty years. distant sobbing.

Tagging:

uuuh @atheoryon @spacey-acey-artemis @greyishbobbi @theassetsass @flowerparrish (no pressure y’all)