#another joke piece that i spent way to much time on

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

My FBI agent wants me to love Kaeya so much…and I just give up…

Into the enclosure he goes

If this is the price I must pay to drag Sam into MXTX hell so be it

[frantic-fiction]

Shattered Glass 18+

(Gif: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x f!reader

Summary: Astarion finally makes do on a promise.

This is part 2 of Secluded Evening. (Could be read as a stand alone)

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, oral fem receiving, PnV sex, unprotected sex, biting (of course) Astarion being a lovesick fool

Word count: 2.6k

Astarion threw another log on the fire; a flurry of embers took flight, dancing in the cold night air. The rest of the camp had already settled in their tents. You were nestled between his knees about five feet away from the flames. A throw blanket cascaded down your shoulders—a notebook on your lap. 

He studies the rapid strokes of your hand from over your shoulder. The rough lines of charcoal were blooming into an identical copy of Laz'eal. Astarion pulled a strand of hair away from your eyes and began to weave your locks into a simple braid. He doesn't have a hair tie, and knowing you, you've lost yours. So, he twists the pieces, and once done let's go, kissing the crown of your head. 

You barely acknowledge him, and when you suddenly shove the pencil over your shoulder, Astarion chuckles, taking it from you. He watches you begin smudging the charcoal with the pad of your finger. You're adorable when your art consumes you. Every time, it captivates Astarion.

This was how most of your nights were spent. Not always precisely like this; sometimes Astarion brought a book, and sometimes your hand got too sore to draw, so Astarion read to you as you curled on his lap. But as long as it was spent in each other's company neither of you cared much for the activity.

Astarion adored these nights the most, primarily because he could feast his eyes on your beauty without you shying away or throwing a stupid joke at him to break the tension. You were perfect in every way, and when he opened his heart briefly and confessed the broken pieces of himself and the motivations that led him to you. All you did was look at him with unspoken love and hugged him. 

Your relationship became something more after that. Sex was not what drew the two of you together. For the first time in 200 years, Astarion had someone he trusted with his every sense of the word. Someone who wanted more than his body and showed their love for him without words. Someone he wanted to spend every moment of his life with despite the fear that thought causes him. 

Astarion thinks he loves you but can't find the words when his mouth opens. He's always struggled with expressing his true feelings, but he wants to try with you. He wants to bear his heart to you and show you all that you mean to him. And with all the trust you and Astarion have established, one thing has become a very big problem. 

You have begun to treat Astarion like glass, as if one sexual touch will break him. And frankly, it's pissing him off. Astarion finally has complete control over his body and a partner who he trusts. A partner that can bring him to his knees with a simple giggle and to put it bluntly, gods you were fucking sexy. 

He's frustrated, horny, and has no idea how to ask for anything he wants. And for fucks sake, if he wakes from a meditation to have you grinding against his erection again, he just might explode.

In his frustrated musing, he didn't notice that you had placed your sketch pad away. He only noticed when you cupped his jaw and moved his eyes to meet yours. "What are you thinking about, handsome?"

It takes a moment for Astarion to collect himself as he stares at your soft smile. "I was thinking it's about time we get you, my sweet, to bed," he pecks your lips before grabbing your wrist and entwining your fingers. You nod and press a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

Astarion holds the flap open, and you duck inside. Kicking your pants off and into the corner, you unceremoniously plop down into the pile of cushions. You began sharing a tent in the shadow curse lands. Astarion found out pretty early on that nightmares of Cazador were less likely when you were in his arms. And thankfully, you slept better, too. 

You prop yourself on your elbows and silently watch Astarion move about the small space, removing his outer clothing. He seemed to be stalling, almost like he was silently debating with himself. Astarion is in his underwear when he seems to come to a conclusion. He takes a deep breath and moves towards you. Kneeling by your feet, you watch as Astarion hesitates, his hand resting softly on your shin. Hesitation is soon replaced with a devilish smirk that stretches across his lips.

"Whatcha thinking about pretty boy?" 

Astarion doesn't say anything, just slowly begins to crawl up your body before capturing you in a breathtaking kiss. His knee is between your legs; your hands are around his neck, pulling him flush against your body. You sigh softly into his mouth, moving your hands to caress his cheekbone.

He tongues the seam of your lips, and you are quick to gasp, giving him access to lick deeper. Astarion's hands are caressing up and down your curves, cupping your breast and tugging the metal bars of your nipple rings. His mouth moves to your throat, sucking hard at your jugular. 

"W-wait!" You choke out, causing the elf above you to freeze. He's quick to remove himself from you, putting some distance between your bodies. 

"Shit, did…did I do something wrong?" Astarion's voice cracks; you've never heard him so unsure of himself. You pant hard but are quick to sit up and fall into Astarion's lap, his arms instinctually wrapping around your waist.

"No, gods no," you sigh, cupping his jaw and pressing your forehead against his. The tension in Astarion's shoulders drops, and he squeezes you a bit harder.

"Then what is it, my sweet?"

That has you pausing to figure out the best way to say this. "What was your plan?" Shit, that didn't sound good

"My plan! Are you serious?" He's already pulling away, shutting off completely when you pull him back tightly.

"No! Th-that's fuck, that's not what I meant, Star," at least he's not trying to run, but he's as stiff as ever. "Astarion, I will be as blunt as possible because I care about you. Were you trying to have sex with me because you felt obligated?"

This isn't what Astarion expected you to say because he can't mask the look of surprise. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut. He does this twice more, but you don't rush him, you push stray curls behind his ear and wait. 

"No." His voice is small. He clears his throat before speaking again, stronger this time. "No, I want this, and I would appreciate you stop treating me like fucking glass."

“What?”

You're flipped over, and suddenly, on your back, Astarion's body pressed closely against yours. He ruts against you. His cock was hard, feeling painfully constricted in his underwear. "I appreciate your patience with me, darling, but I need to clarify one thing to you right now."

Astarion licks a long stripe up your collarbone, ending just under your ear. You moan softly, trying desperately to roll your hips up into Astarion. "I have never wanted someone more than I wanted you. So, if it's okay with you, my sweet, I'm going to take the rest of our clothes off, and you're going to finally let me feast upon the sweetness between your legs."

You whine and buck, trying to get anything from Astarion's unmoving body. "Tsk, no, no, my sweet. Use your words." He purred, nipping your ear.

"Please! Yes! Oh gods, Astarion," 

Once the words leave your lips, you're tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. After you are both fully undressed, Astarion shoves you back onto the cushions. You expect him to pounce but he hovers staring down at your naked body.

Astarion's deft fingers grab your foot, and he presses a soft kiss to your inner ankle. A pang of heat flared through your lower abdomen. He kisses up to the top of your calf before giving a playful bite. You release a soft yelp, and Astarions lavishes the bite with his tongue. He slowly moves up to your inner thigh, leaving various bruises in his wake.

 You're gasping as he ghosted over the spot you wanted him most. His breath fans over your dripping cunt, and you swear he's about to give you what you want. Then he kisses you. Just one small peck on the public area just above your clit, before he retreats. You cry, and one of your hands card into Astarion's white locks. 

“No! Please!”

 He begins the same slow ascent up your other leg, paying just as much attention. "Now, as much as I love those beautiful noises you make for me. Remember that our camp members are trying to sleep; you can be a good girl for me, right?" He gazes up between your parted legs, and you nod and swear if he asked at this moment, you would have given him anything.

"I thought so," Astarion purred before licking up the entire length of your pussy. You moan out and swiftly clap your hand over your mouth. Then suddenly Astarion is a man starved.

His hand grips the underside of your thighs hard and pulls you down the bed as close as physically possible. He sucks, and licks, piercing his tongue sloppily at your dripping cunt, and you're a mess of pleasure. Your grind against Astarion's face, his nose rubbing beautifully against your clit. If it weren't for Astarion's hands keeping your thighs parted, you probably would be crushing his head in your desperation.

A low groan rumbles from Astarion's chest, and he focuses his attention, sucking tightly on the bundle of nerves. He slips his first and middle finger into your cunt and curls up, causing you to gasp for air. 

"S-star…oh gods!" You cried, and he was ruthless with his assault. Astarion pumped his fingers quickly, the sloppy sounds of his mouth mixed with your muffled moan. Your stomach was coiling with pleasure, and you were embarrassed with how fast Astarion was picking you apart. "I'm close." you whimper, rolling your hips against his face. 

Astarion, after a moment, releases your clit. Still pumping you with his fingers, he looks up at you, chin glistening with your arousal, a smug grin lazily plaster on his lips. "Come for me, love, be a good girl."

With the last few slips of his fingers, the coil snaps, and you're falling apart. Eyes unfocused, muscled tight, the silent gasp of ecstasy stuck in your throat. Astarion watches in amazement and arousal as you come apart so thoroughly with just his mouth and fingers. His cock is aching pre, now dribbling down the shaft. 

Once your orgasm slows, you feel the immense need for more. And with Astarion still nestled between your legs, it has you moving without thought. You push Astarion back and plant yourself on his lap. You mash your mouth against him, chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

Astarion groans and cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Your palms roam down his chest, smoothing down his abs until you come to his neglected cock. It's swollen and red, and when you grip it softly, Astarions hisses into your mouth, bucking into your palm. 

Smearing the pre-come around, you slowly work your hand up and down Astarion's dick in long, languid strokes. His eyes glaze over, and he moans, head dropping to your shoulder. Astarion's cold hands fondled your breast, and he leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulls the metal piercing softly with his teeth. 

You whine and tug on a fist full of Astarion's hair, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. "Fuck, darling." Astarion moans, moving to give your other breast equal attention. Your positive marks will be littering your body for days following. And the thought alone causes you to clench your thighs. 

You pump your hand faster, and Astarion meets everyone with thrusts of his hips. He claims your lips again in a sloppy dance of wet tongues. Then suddenly Astarion stills your hand.

"If you keep this up, I'm not going to last much longer." Astarion's pants, nudging your nose with his.

"Isn't that kinda the point, handsome?"

"Not if I want to come apart feeling you clenching around me," Astarion's voice is breathless, and you moan at the thought. He kisses your cheek, then your jaw. Trailing his way to your neck. "Would you like that, my sweet," 

Whatever power you had over Astarion had just turned to dust. You bite your lip and nod quickly, letting Astarion push you on to your back. You part your hips, and Astarion slots right in. 

"Words, my love. You do know how much I love your voice." Such a fucking tease.

Linking your arms around his neck, you pull him down, hitching one of your legs over Astarion's hips. "Please…I need you to fuck me." 

"Shit…" Astarion groans. Taking himself in hand, he smears his dick with your arousal before filling you agonizing inch by inch. 

The two of you let out a collective cry of pleasure, and you feel complete. Astarion pulls out and slams his hips back, ripping the oxygen from your lungs, and sets a steady pace. You clutch at his shoulders, digging your nails into exposed skin. The slick sounds of Astarions pumping in and out of you were depraved and did nothing but fill your lower abdomen with molten lava. Astarion wholly consumed your senses. 

The coolness of his lips left lingering kisses on your arched neck. The smell of bergamot and rosemary flooded your nose with each shaky inhale. The saltiness of any skin you could taste. It was too much and not enough all at once. 

The scrape of Astarion's fangs graze his favorite feeding spot, and you grab the back of his head. "Yes! P-please…" and soon, the icy pierce of his teeth is followed by the cool tingle of pleasure that flows through your body. 

Astarion grunts as soon as the blood touches his tongue. He ruts faster against you, grinding you into the blankets. He has to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your voice from waking the whole camp. 

But what can you do? Nothing. Not when his other hand begins to roll your clit in tight circles matching his thrusts. Your hands trail down his back, legs hooking tightly around his torso. The angle of your hips changes, and Astarion is pounding into the spot that has you seeing stars. You're close, and you try to say so, but Astarion hand is still tight around your mouth. 

After a last mouthful of blood, Astarions peppers kisses over the bite. "I know, my sweet, I'm…fuck I'm close to." 

His fingers are rubbing your clit faster, and his hips aren't letting up the brutal pace. Your legs are quaking, and you feel like you might faint. You clench tightly around him, and then you fall apart. Suddenly, Astarion's hand is gone, and his tongue is in your mouth, capturing every whimper of pleasure you give. And with a few more swallow sloppy thrusts, Astarion falls over the edge with you, filling you with his spent.

Astarion continue to languidly kiss you, both hands cupping your face like you are the most precious creature on the plane. He barely grinds his hips, feeling the last of your orgasms fade until you are both too sensitive. 

And it's like someone cut the puppet strings. Astarion falls limply onto you, blanketing your body with his. You comb softly through his hair, gently pulling out any knots. Astarion kisses your shoulder before rolling off of you. 

It is silent for a while as you stare into each other's eyes. Astarions is the first to speak. "I love you," His words were barely above the whisper, and if you weren't staring intently at the man, you might have missed it. 

You're speechless. Were you dreaming?

"I still believe you deserve more than the broken man before you. But you've chosen me, and I have felt true happiness for the first time since waking up in my grave. And well-"

You don't give him a moment to finish before you're in his lap and tackling him into an embrace. "I love you, Astarion." 

The dopey grin on his face has you breaking into your own. You press your forehead to his, and he hugs you tightly. You don't know what tomorrow brings. But being here, seeing Astarion's smile, and knowing he loves you just as much as you love him. It feels like you can do anything. 

Okay, friends, this was just so fun to write. Let me know what ya thought. I swear all the love and support I've received from my last few posts have been so amazing. I'm so excited to show you more!!!

If you liked this, maybe you'll like one of these?

Happy Birthday (fluffy)

Reoccurring Nightmares (hurt/comfort)

Tag list?: @heartfully10

[ssahotchnerr]

Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”

personalized

ADORABLE cw; bau!fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, fluff and aaron being cute <3

the pace at which aaron was moving must've been more intense than he intended and realized; as he hurried past jj's desk, the small draft that followed caused a small piece of paper to flutter to the ground.

uttering an apology, aaron immediately reached down to pick it up. however it had landed face up, and his eyebrows furrowed in small confusion as he caught a glimpse of its contents.

your familiar handwriting kept his eyes, instead of peering away as he normally would - 'my sweet jj! thank you so much for your help on the arizona case file, you're a total lifesaver and your expertise is always appreciated, hope you know that. enjoy <3 ps - your new lavender sweater is the cutest. must plan a shopping day w/ pen soon!'

aaron's eyebrows stayed in that confused line, his eyes shifting up to jj's in a silent question.

"came with the cookies." jj answered for him, pointing her head towards the tupperware container perched on her desktop.

instantly aaron's mind made the connection - so that's why you were up late baking. that made more sense; the time you had spent baking was much too long for the small plateful quantity he had found reserved for him and jack this morning.

"pretty girl sure knows how to cook." derek added into the conversation as he approached the cluster of desks, raising his hand to pat aaron on the back but stopped himself halfway - aaron shot him a pointed look, hiding his own amusement, while jj attempted to conceal her smile with her palm.

another eyebrow furrow. "and when have you had her cooking?"

"here and there. always comes with a note too. i could just about fill a desk drawer with how many i have." derek admitted, with his signature, vivid grin. "she may be yours, we get special treatment too, y'know."

a bit later, you strolled into aaron's office, juggling numerous files in your hands.

"as requested," you started, dropping them firmly onto aaron's desk. "five action reports, minus dave's. he told me when you're as experienced and italian as he is, you can slack off and kinda get away with it. but i think that's his fancy way of admitting he's old." you joked with a eye roll.

"thank you," aaron flashed you a smile, sorting through his current papers. assuming that was all, you spun on your heel to head out and return to the everlasting joy of paperwork, but, aaron's voice stopped you.

"hey hold it, c'mere a sec."

you pulled back one of the chairs in front of hiss desk, the legs producing a scraping noise against the floorboards, but aaron gestured for you to come around. your eyes darted in the direction of his open blinds, then back at him. 'you sure?'

aaron nodded in confirmation. and if you needed any more convincing, once in reach you were pulled onto his lap, his hold on you tight.

if he wasn't being a stickler on the open affection, neither were you; you relaxed yourself against him just as you would normally, your body melting into his and throwing your arms loosely around his neck. "what's up?"

"i didn't know you wrote the team notes."

"oh," you laughed softly, with a light shake of your head. by habit your fingers ran along the skin of aaron's neck, scratching the nape of his hair gently. "yeah, if i bring in lunch or a treat or something. or both. or sometimes just because. an appreciation reminder."

aaron nodded, his fingers drumming against your hip comfortably.

"that's not a problem, is it?"

"well," aaron pretended to think, his hand changing motions and sliding up and down your side, "yes."

"actually?" you blurted as your own fingers paused. that wasn't the answer you expected, and it caused a rush of nervous heat to pool within you. until, you saw the feigned, solemn expression on his face.

aaron peered down at you, his playful eyes canceling out the forced pout on his lips. under his breath, he mumbled humorously, "i thought i was the only one getting notes."

you laughed brightly, the joy within the sound immediately bringing a smile to aaron's lips. "oh don't worry, they don't get the lipstick smooch on theirs. that's reserved for you and you only."

"i would hope not."

"or the, occasional... explicitness."

"again, i would hope not." aaron laughed again. his lips graced your temple, lingering gently as he spoke, "you're sweet."

"a very wise, very attractive person once said, 'people need to know they're important'." your lips quirked into a loving smile, a glint in your eyes. "thought this would be an easy way - i learned from the best."

[444lec33]

The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader

Part 2 can be found here

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: none that I can think of

No descriptions of reader's physical appearance

Author's note: This was so fun to write, I hope you guys enjoy it 🧡

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you sighed looking incredulously up at the ceiling. 

“Well believe it because he’ll be here any minute,” your father said sitting behind his desk. 

There was a quick knock on the office door before it parted to reveal your mother standing there, an exaggerated grin on her face. She beckoned you closer and you went to her begrudgingly. She grabbed your chin looking you over and started smoothing out your outfit. 

“You know how much this means for both our families. Don't embarrass us now, sweetie.” 

You rolled your eyes and refused to respond as he three of you trekked the halls leading to wherever your soon-to-be husband was. 

He was standing there looking rather curiously at the art work that adorned the ornate dining room. 

You hated the sound of your name on his lips and the cheeky grin that accompanied it as he turned around. Your arms were folded in irritation as you gave a simple greeting, letting the awkwardness grow.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you show Lando the rose garden?” Your mother chided hopefully, knowing that without being prompted you would never move things along for Lando’s visit. You were going to make a joke about the future kingpin’s disinterest in flowers before Lando spoke up with a playful tone. 

“I would love that.” Oh he was eating this up. 

“It’ll be good for you two to have some alone time before the wedding.” Your father remained silent as your overzealous mother aligned the pieces to connect your family to the most notorious mob in the country. 

Lando was all too excited to appease your mother’s wishes. A rough palm reached out and collected your hand dragging you towards the back entrance of your home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything about you.” 

Your finance rolled his eyes before responding to your claim. “We’ve known each other for years, and this” he motioned between the two of you. “Was something we always knew would happen. No point in complaining,” he shrugged seeming as carefree as he always appeared for someone in his position. 

But Lando was right. You’d both grown up in relative proximity to one another, your families’ mafia ties linking the two of you in ways that ran deeper than you’d ever comprehend. 

“Alright fine,” you threw up your hands while standing up in front of him. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it my way.” 

Lando nodded, the appearance of his dimples telling you how comical he found your sudden interest in your present circumstances. “Ask away, love. Whatever you want and it’s yours.”

You hummed before rattling off the shortlist of needs you’d like to be met before you walked down the aisle to marry the mafia prince.

“Well for starters I want a ring. I big one. Like really big. Do not get me anything princess cut. Too predictable and cheap looking.” Lando was going to interject but you continued. “I don’t care if it’s gold or silver as long as it looks classy. Maybe a nice cushion cut or a Marquise. Dutch marquise,” you quickly added. “Oh and I wear a size 7.”

Lando took your brief pause as an opportunity to speak. “Should I be taking notes on all this,” he laughed and licked his lips clearly having fun with your pre-wedding demands. “Alright, now that I know what you want I promise I’ll deliver.” You knew he wasn’t lying. The Norris’ family was one of the wealthiest around, their fortune managed to dwarf the elaborate lifestyle your family’s own mob ties afforded you. 

“Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of your home, “I’d like to get back to enjoying the rest of my night.”

Lando was quick to his feet, his hand catching your wrist as you started towards the large mansion. “We’ve spent all night going over what you want, don’t you even care about what I’d like?” He questioned with a playful glimmer in his watercolored eyes.

“I couldn’t care less,” you turned and began walking again before Lando stopped you, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you to face him.

“That really hurts you know.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him. Leave it to Lando to make this situation into a joke. 

“Fine, what do you want? Separate houses? A girlfriend on the side? Whatever it is I really don’t care.”

“Honestly…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I want us to give this a shot.” The words had barely left his mouth before you’d started laughing. “Okay, sure laugh at me but I’m being serious. Think about it this way; in a few weeks time we’ll be legally bound to each other and all the other bullshit that entails for the rest of our lives. You’ll probably, no definitely, be the mother of my kids.”

His words were making you feel things you wish you didn’t. As irritated as you were with this entire scheme your two families created you knew there was nothing you could ever do to escape it. Would leaning into it really be so bad? What’s the worst that could happen? Before you could interject with one of the million and one reasons you could think of to not forge a real relationship Lando spoke again. 

“You don’t have to decide now, whatever decision you make I’ll respect it.” You swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in your throat. “Oh and what you said earlier? I don’t want some girl on the side or whatever you want to call it. I’m actually willing to give us a try and I hope you’ll do the same.” 

You gaped at him, eyes wide. No dick on the side, no way. The words refused to leave your mouth but you nodded, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. 

“I have eyes everywhere, but I’m sure you already know that. If I were you I’d tie up any loose ends before the wedding.” It took a moment for you to realize what he was indicating. But how could you ever forget who Lando Norris truly was. If you were to ever go behind his back he would know, and from the looks of it things wouldn’t end to well for you or your paramour. 

“Okay fine, you win.” 

A shit-eating grin spread across his perfectly structured face. “I win,” he said more to himself, clearly enjoying the taste of the words in his mouth. “I do have one more condition before we really do this.”

Your eyes didn’t deviate from his as you waited for him to get on with it. “I want a kiss.”

“Alright great talk but no. Have a great night!” You were practically sprinting to get inside but Lando was quick on his feet catching you almost instantly. “You know you really need to stop running away all the time. That’s something we’ll need to work on.” The proximity between the two of you was closer than ever. If it weren’t for his tight grip you would have squirmed under Lando’s heavy gaze. 

He reached out to grab you chin making sure your eyes were trained on him. “Better now than the first one be in front of everyone we know. Let’s consider this practice for D-day.”

Practice. Sure. 

“Okay,” you whispered before your better judgement could stop you. Lando was confident taking the lead as his lips came close to yours. Nothing could have prepared you for the feel of his plush lips against your. As the kiss dragged on you slowly felt the tension you’d harbored before leaving your body. Why did he have to be such a good kisser. 

It felt like forever before the two of you separated, an awkward pause hanging in the air as you tried to separate your hate for your pre-planned life from the growing lust you were feeling for your future husband. Lando removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you close to him as he guided you the short trek from the rose garden to your home. 

If you looked even half as disoriented as you felt it was probably best to stave off the embarrassment and head straight upstairs. You reluctantly turned around at the sound of your fiancé calling your name. You cast your gaze down to the end of the spiral stairwell where he stood. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

There were question marks swarming your head as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. Tonight was intense enough, what else would he need to see you for?

Lando swiped his hand against his facial hair barely trying to hide the pleasure he felt by catching you off guard. He tilted his head to the side, dimples more prominent than ever. 

“Saturday night. Our engagement party.” 

Oh. Ohhhh.

“Right. Okay, yeah.” You mentally kicked yourself for forgetting the second most important date on your calendar for the foreseeable future. 

“I think a week should give you enough time to think about our little chat.” You were more likely to be ruminating over that kiss. 

At this point you were drained. Words were too much so you just flashed him a thumbs up and trusted one of the maids to show him out. “Goodbye Lando,” you called over your shoulder ready to hide away in your room for the rest of eternity. 

“Goodnight wifey.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finally reached your room you found yourself drawn to the window. You opened it up, not so subtly peaking at your fiancé’s black McLaren as it exited the gates. The sound of your phone vibrating on your bed pulled your attention from the sleek car growing distant from your home. You plopped down on your bed, body still wrapped in the warm jacket Lando covered you with. Looking at the device you noted several missed messages and calls. Some from your girl friends, and even more from your friends friends. You pulled a throw pillow close to you as you got comfortable scanning through your messages. 

Charles 

Still on for tomorrow?

Lewis 

Missed FaceTime 

Max

2 Missed calls. 1 Voicemail.

Time to tie up those loose ends…

~~~~~~~~

Part 2 can be found here

[princesssmars]

thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.

now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.

but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.

hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...

but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.

she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.

your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.

it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.

after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.

once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.

she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-

when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.

but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.

once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.

shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.

there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.

she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.

she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.

and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.

shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.

shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.

she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.

your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-

her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...

its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.

she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.

she doesn't feel that bad about it.

i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.

[lunajay33]

Insecure🖤

Summary: Carl and y/n were always attached at the hip, so when Carl got shot and was starting to distant himself she was getting worried, but little did Carl know was that y/n wouldn’t ever stop loving him just because of the way he looked

Pairing: Carl Grimes x f!reader

A/n: This was a request for @anabort hope you like it!!

•Masterlist•

When I heard Carl was shot it felt like my heart shriveled with pain, when the walkers where gone from the town I ran over to the infirmary but Michonne came out stopping me

“Michonne please let me see him” I said tears running down my face

“I can’t” she said holding me back

“Why not? Let me go”

“He doesn’t want you to see him” that stopped my fussing

“But will he be okay?” I asked just needed to know if he’s alright

“He’ll be okay just…..just give him time sweetie”

“Please just……..just tell him I love him” I said leaving to go back home, the room I shared with Carl felt empty now without him, him usually lying on the bed reading or us cuddling and joking around now….now it was just quiet and cold

It went on like this for a week, he did come home and stayed at the infirmary, I kept asking to see him, this was the longest I’ve gone without seeing him in well……forever, growing up next to Carl meant we could hang out everyday so when the world ended and my parents were killed he made sure not to leave without me, along the way we fell for each other, we’d take little glances at each other in the prison or we’d go on walks around the court yard together, then when the prison fell he didn’t let go of my hand the whole fight he made sure we wouldn’t be separated, I was there for him when he was grieving Judith and well everyone just like he was there for me when my parents died, then on the road after terminus we spent every night cuddled together telling each other how much we adored and loved one another, so when we got to Alexandria we got privacy to show each other that love to grow our relationship but now…..now I’m alone and Carl is there in that infirmary in pain and all I want to do is try and make him feel loved and just comfort him

I pulled myself together, I put on carls favourite blue shirt I wore and a pair of jean shorts, freshening myself up and spraying a vanilla perfume Carl once found me on a run

I walked over to the infirmary not taking no for an answer today, I needed to be near him, I got there opening the door to see a curtain spread across half the room

Michonne and Rick came out with the same pity look as they did every day this week

“You know you can’t be here” Rick said sadly

“No, I need to be with him please, I can’t bare to be alone anymore, I need to know he’s okay…….please” I said my lip trembling as my heart felt colder every second I didn’t see him

“Let her in” I heard his voice from behind the curtain as Rick and Michonne stepped aside so I could enter

I pulled back the curtain seeing him sat up against the head board of the bed, his head was down and turned away but I could still see the gauze wrapped around his head, I sat on the edge of the bed as close to him as I could

“Carl I missed you so much, are you okay” I asked as I laid my hand ontop of his

“I don’t want you to see me like this but….i missed you too” he said his voice laced with that sadness that broke me to pieces

“Carl there’s nothing that would change me from loving you, nothing at all” I said tracing my fingers gently over his check so he would look at me

“I’m hideous, how could you still love me” he said as he finally looked at me tears gathering in his water line

“How could you, the Carl Grimes ever be hideous, you know how sexy I think you are plus this patch kinda makes you look like a hot pirate or something, you’re still my Carl and I still love you” I said as I saw his lip rise in a little smile as his cheeks reddened

“Really you’re fine with it?”

“I’m more than fine with it, no please come home, I miss you……a lot”

“Oh really?”

“Yes the bed is cold without you love”

“Well let’s go home and you can show me just how sexy you think I still am” he said bringing back that Carl grimes awful flirting but I loved it none the less because he was back with me now

Taglist: @carlsdarling

[quizzicalwriter]

Hi! Idk if you do headcanons but if you do can you do boyfriend headcanons for Dallas? It can be up to you to make it general things or just smut related things.

Dating Dallas HC’s

Despite what you may think, I don’t see Dallas being an overly possessive boyfriend. You two go about your business and that’s that, but the moment he catches someone flirting with you he’s bounding over and making sure everyone knows you’re his. Beyond that? He’s alright with PDA, but he’s not about to make out in front of his friends, that’s private stuff.

He’d let you wear his jacket, necklace, rings, everything. He loves seeing you in his clothing, and he’d certainly notice the moment you aren’t wearing one item that you usually do - and it’s not even for the reason you think, he’s just worried you’ll lose his stuff and he’ll have to find another one.

He has no problem remembering birthdays, anniversaries, all that jazz. He loves surprising you by remembering important dates for you. But the moment you ask him if he remembers someone you met last week he’s pulling a blank. He’ll remember eventually, but he sucks at remembering faces.

You ever need something but don’t have the money for it? Dallas does! Don’t ask where he got it, most of the time he doesn’t remember or doesn’t want you worrying about him - he doesn’t know which is worse and he ain’t about to find out.

On the topic of money, if you tried to pay him back he’d act personally offended and never accept the money. I’m talking full-on mouth dropping open, loud scoff, all of it. You’re his girl, why the hell are you trying to pay him back? Just give him a kiss or something.

Loves driving you places, and lets you control the music in reasonable amounts - meaning, you cannot play the same song over, and over. He’d let you get away with three replays max before he’s groaning and turning the radio off and tossing the mix out the window. He’d apologize afterward and buy you a new cassette.

I do not see him being a kind driver, the man has road rage and you’ve seen it. There have been multiple instances where you’ve ducked into the passenger seat and whisper-yelled at him to shut up - he never does.

The man is like a corpse when he sleeps. You want him to move over? Good luck. You’d have a better chance rolling over onto him to get sleep, he wouldn’t wake up either way unless you pushed him from the bed.

Speaking of sleep, if you’re ever cold and plaster your morgue-like hands against his back, he will shriek. His back will arch, his legs will shoot out, and he’ll throw every curse known to man your way as he moves away from your hands - your hands still end up warm.

His friends are his family and he takes their opinions seriously, I can see him genuinely fretting over their view of you if he cares enough for you. Hell, he’s got feelings for you, of course, he’s going to want his family to like you. They will, it’ll take a while to get used to their form of joking, but you’ll be at home with them and it’ll make Dallas smile.

On the subject of family, Dallas doesn’t mention his much. He might if you’re close enough, but you’re likely to get bits and pieces as time goes by until he’s sure you won’t leave either. When he finally tells you about his upbringing it hurts your heart, you’re both mentally spent by the end of it and you promise him to never mention it unless he does first. He appreciates you for it.

If you stay over at his place often enough he’ll try to make the place look more presentable. Mainly rearranging stuff that he hasn’t touched in months, maybe buying another set of bedsheets. You notice every time something changes in his room and whenever you mention it he’s happy to talk about it, even if he tries to play it off cool.

He watches you sleep, not so much in a creepy way, but it’s something he loves to do. If you talk or snore in your sleep he will imitate it in the morning. In the moment he finds it cute, but he’ll never admit it.

His version of helping you cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner is standing behind you with his chin on your shoulder, or leaning against the kitchen counter with a cigarette between his lips. The man can’t cook, maybe he could, but he likes watching you cook too much to try - that and the one time he tried to help he burnt the shit out of his hand.

If you smoke he’ll light your cigarettes or share his own, if you don’t he’ll appreciate you standing beside him while he smokes, but he ain’t gonna force you to be near him when he does - just don’t nag the man, he’s been smoking since he was a kid, I don’t think he could stop even if he wanted to.

Whenever he smokes he’ll blow the smoke to the side, always ensuring it doesn’t blow in your face. But, if the smoke follows you he’ll murmur some cliche line like “Smoke follows beauty.”

Any music he’s into he will show you in a heartbeat. He thrives on showing you things you haven’t seen yet, whether it’s movies at the drive-in he’s sneaking you into, or a cassette he snagged from a nearby store - either way, his eyes watch you for any reaction.

Definitely considers going on a walk or eating food in Buck’s T-Bird a date. You’ll have to specify what you want if you want anything different, otherwise he’s content with the routine. If you ask for something different he won’t take offense to it, but he might chide you for it.

Words aren’t his forte, actions are. He’ll try his best to be kind, but he’ll occasionally slip and might say something rude. If you can shoot back your own sarcastic quips it’ll make him swoon, he loves nothing more than someone who can fire back at him.

Likely won’t tell you that he loves you for YEARS. You can say it first, he’ll nod and likely kiss your cheek or forehead in return. You know what he means, but he’s not the type to say it until he feels absolutely certain about you. Dallas knows how he feels about someone rather quickly, but he’s wary when it comes to love. He wants to mean it, mean it in a way that scares him.

The first time he tells you he loves you will be when you’re asleep. He’ll continue doing that until one day when he randomly springs it on you. It’ll likely be around a cigarette, but you’ll be able to tell from his eyes how deeply he means it. Don’t expect him to say it often, but know that he always feels it.

A/N: This is so short, I’m so sorry. I’ve never done headcanons before, so I hope this was good! I think about Dallas’s character so much that I actually had a bit of fun with this! This is a late night post for me, but I finished it up and figured I’d post it for y’all anyways. Thank you all for the continued love and support you’ve shown me and my work!! I appreciate you all more than words could ever describe! <3

[arachine]

thinking about lazy blowies with ethan where he's not allowed to touch, or talk, but all the pretty noises are very much welcomed <3

isa!!!! stop!!!! nghhhh ;((

— 18+, established relationship, oral sex (m receiving), lazy mornings, turned out real fluffy

i imagine mornings spent laying in bed with him would be so intimate. just the two of you sprawled out in bed, cozying up together while the buzz of a netflix show drones out in the background. it’s a routine that neither he nor you would exchange for anything else—and he especially wouldn’t give up those mornings where you’d roll over and stuff your mouth full of his cock. he’d rather die than give that up, he thinks.

“‘s not even 9 am yet,” he groans sleepily, though he’s already making an effort—albeit slowly—to meet you halfway by tugging his boxers down the apex of his thighs. he likes to make it easy for you, even if it’s something you probably could’ve done yourself.

“oh, please,” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, “doesn’t matter what time it is, like you’ll ever turn down a blowie.”

“well, duh? i’m an idiot, not a monster,” the brunet gasps in jest before he starts to smile, something real big and toothy. god, he loved this. loved your fast quips, and your never-changing inclination for pleasuring him.

“oh really?” you query, eyeing him as you begin your descent down the length of his body, planting your head to lay on his thigh. you appreciate the fact that he’s tugged it down for you, as well as the fact that he’s already hard, the bulbous tip a blooming red—practically oozing with pre.

reaching out a lithe hand, you take the leaky appendage into your palm and guide it to your mouth. from this angle, you’re sure you look silly, but the reaction it garners from ethan is a silent assurance that you don’t.

“shittt,” he drawls, “so—fuck—pretty.” ethan goes to smooth a hand over your cheek but is promptly swatted away.

“no talking,” a lick, “no touching,” another. continuing your ministrations, you take his cock back into your mouth, and stroke the rest of him with a loose grip—which is borderline torturous, because he wants you to apply pressure, to rub him like you normally do, but decides against speaking up. instead, he sinks further into the plush of his comforter and offers you grunts and groans. moans and whimpers.

when the pleasure gets too overwhelming, and he bucks up a bit into your mouth, you press him down with a flat—but firm—palm. stay still, you admonish one too many times, though you know his ceaseless writhing and thrashing is a tell-tale that he’s reaching his peak.

he wants to say something, do something. he wants to push your head all the way down until the length of him is buried down your throat—but he doesn’t want to disobey your commands. or disrupt the rhythm you set. so he maintains eye contact. let’s you see how hot and bothered he is from not being able to touch you, or speak, and makes the most pornographic sound he’s ever made when he unloads his seed down your throat.

he’s a panting and blushing mess by the time you finish with him. all warm and dewy, with the front pieces of his hair sticking to the skin of his forehead. you don’t immediately move to sit up, or crawl your way back under the covers and into his arms. no, you stay there, and peer up at him in admiration from where your head rests on his thigh.

the morning rays dance across his aquiline features, and paint him a golden hue. he’s so pretty, you think. in the way that people are post-orgasm.

“something…something on my face?” he pants, still out of breath, but not enough to forego jokes.

you crawl back up to the head of the bed and shimmy under the covers, slotting yourself next to him like a puzzle piece. “yeah, this.” and he laughs as you give him a fat kiss on his cheek.

[drudyslut]

Pretty Blue Eyes — R.C

— summary: you see rafe at a party after he’d dumped you, and it hurts more than you thought it would.

— CW: 18+ only! angst, strong language, alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, hurt/no comfort.

— a/n: i’m so sorry. i love angst and when i’m sad, i have to make y’all sad too. this angst prompts list gave me ideas and i used dialogues 3, 14 and 20<3 likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

I never knew losing him would hurt so much. Losing the one person I’d spent the last six months of my life with.

Six months might not seem like much to some, I understand people have gone through greater losses. But I’d fallen in love with him. Fallen in love with all the meaningless words he’d said. Fallen in love with his scent, his touch, his pretty blue eyes.

But he never loved me. I was just a game. Something to use to pass the time. I boosted his ego, made him feel special. And all the while, he was using me. Playing me. Making me fall in love with him, just so he could break my heart. It was random, and very unexpected. Four words was all it took to shatter my heart into a million little pieces — “I never loved you.” is what he’d said.

To make matters worse? He’d told me this right after we’d had sex. I gave myself to him. My whole self. And he took. He took and took, but never gave. He took until there was nothing left for me to give. He owned my soul, my heart, my body. He owned me, but I never owned him.

That was three days ago. Three days of crying myself to sleep, three days of not eating and drinking myself to death. Three days since I’d seen his face. I’ve tried to avoid him, but I knew I’d see him again. We live on a small fucking island for Christs sake. And he’s everywhere. He’s very well known. There’s no escaping him. And tonight proves that. He’s here. His pretty blue eyes watching me from across the room. I wish I could show him I don’t care, that he didn’t rip my fucking heart out and stomp on it…

But I can’t. I still love him.

“Are you okay?”

My best friend, Ashlyn’s, voice pulls me from the darkness I’ve allowed myself to crawl into. I slowly turn to face her, light brown eyes filled with concern intensely stare back at me.

I put on my best fake smile. “Yeah. Fine, why?”

Lie. I’m not okay, and I don’t know if I ever will be. But I can’t admit that.

She frowns. “You’re not okay though, I can see it in your eyes. Do you wanna leave? We can lea-”

I quickly cut her off. “No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just go get another drink. I’m gonna need them if I’m going to last here all night.”

Her frown deepens, but she nods her head. I internally thank the Heavens that she dropped the subject. I don’t want to talk about Rafe and how he’d absolutely obliterated my heart.

She grabs my hand, lacing her fingers with mine before pulling me off to the kitchen, and out of the eyesight of the beautiful, blue eyed man I once had all to myself.

“I’m thinking shots of fireball. Shit will get you drunk so fast.”

I laugh. “The alcohol version of red hot gum, I’m down.”

Laughing at my lame attempt at a joke, she grips the neck of the bottle, grabbing two shot glasses next and filling them both to the rim. I quickly grab mine, tossing it back and swallowing the harsh amber liquid. A shiver wracks my body as the burning liquid makes its way down my throat.

I cough, placing my hand over my stomach. “Fuck, I forget how much that shit burns.”

Ashlyn chuckles. “Yeah. But that’s what makes it great. The burn of this can help erase the burn you feel from Rafe being a royal douche.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. She’s right. I prefer the burn of the liquor over the burn of Rafe and his heartbreaking words.

She quickly fills the shot glasses again, handing me mine and watching as I down the amber liquid once more.

I slam the shot glass back on the counter. “Another, please.”

She smiles widely. “Atta girl. You’ll forget about the smug bastard by the end of the night at this rate.”

***

Ashlyn was right. I was…. twenty shots in?? I don’t fucking know, I was drunk. And I wasn’t thinking about the pretty blue eyed man.

I’m about to take another shot when a voice I didn’t want to hear anytime soon has me dropping the glass on the floor, clear liquid spilling at my feet as the glass shatters — representing my heart because of him.

“Y/N… I think you should cut yourself off and go home.. I’ll take you.”

I snap my head in his direction, those damn pretty blue eyes staring down at me. Looking at me like I actually meant something to him. Lies. He doesn’t give a fuck. He just doesn’t want me embarrassing him tonight. Fuck him.

With shaky hands, I grab another glass from the counter, my eyes never leaving his. I reach out and find the tall, glass bottle of Tito’s, pouring myself another shot and then downing it with my eyes on his.

“Fuck you, Rafe.”

He sighs, setting his beer bottle on the counter and placing his hands on my shoulders. His blue eyes search my face.

“Y/N. Please, go home. You’re drunk, and you’re hurting.”

I roll my eyes and scoff. Fuck him for trying to pretend he cares. He doesn’t give a shit about me. And I’m done caring about him.

“Stop acting like you give a fuck about me, Rafe. You dumped me. So it’s done. I just want to get drunk, and fucking forget I ever loved you.”

He glances behind me, his eyes taking in everyone that’s watching us. “Hey, can we please go talk outside?”

I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he grabs my hand, pulling me outside. I’m so drunk I can’t fight him off. He pulls me all the way down the stairs of the front porch and down the long driveway until we reach his truck.

He opens the passenger door, tossing me inside and slamming it shut behind him. My heavy eyes watch him round the front of the truck before he hops inside the driver seat. He pulls the keys out of his pocket, sticking them into the ignition and bringing the truck to life.

I cross my arms over my chest with a huff. “Where the fuck are you taking me, Rafe?”

He glances at me from the corner of his eye before placing them back on the road. “Home.” comes his clipped answer.

I lean my head against the window. Why does he do this? He left me. Why does he care if I’m drunk at a party or not? Why can’t he just leave me alone and let me heal?

The smell of leather and his cologne fills my nose. I feel the tears begin burning the backs of my eyes, and I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. I lift my head, turning my head to the side to look at him. He still looks so good, and it hurts. He has one hand firmly gripping the steering wheel and the other lays lazily in his lap.

He has on a tight baby blue polo, and khakis with a backwards hat on. I want him to kiss me, and tell me everything will be okay. Tell me that he made a mistake and he does love me. But I know that won’t happen. He meant what he said, and there’s no getting him back, no matter how badly I want him back.

A few minutes later, he’s pulling into the driveway of my parents house. He puts the truck in park and hops out, rounding the truck to my side and opening the door for me.

He reaches his hand out, and I take it. My heart pulls in my chest at the feel of his touch again. I miss him.

He helps me out of the truck, and walks me to the front door. I turn and face him, wanting to get some things off my chest before he goes.

“Why’d you do it?” I ask softly, tears stinging at my eyes and threatening to spill.

He sighs, and the look in his eyes hold slight regret. “I can’t answer that… I just, I didn’t want to be with you anymore. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process, but I couldn’t pretend to love you when I didn’t.”

The first tear falls, and I blink rapidly, swiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I still don’t understand what I did wrong..”

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I can’t stop the sob that is pulled from me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N… I promise. I know this is so cliché, but it’s not you, it’s me. I just couldn’t commit.”

The tears are now flowing uncontrollably down my face and my body is shaking. I’m in pain. And he’s making it worse.

“I love you, Rafe. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.. I just can’t. You need to stop loving me.”

I choke out a sob. “I don’t want to love you anymore. But I do.”

He sighs, letting his head fall and his eyes look to the ground.

This is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I’m not getting him back. I’ll never have Rafe Cameron in my life again. And that thought alone has me spiraling into a depression I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back from.

“Say something, Rafe.” I choke out.

His head lifts, and his eyes find mine again. He’s went from looking regretful, to angry in just seconds.

“What do you want me to say? I left you. And now you’re showing up to my friend’s house, getting fucking wasted and causing a scene. What the fuck do you want from me? I can’t fucking force myself to love you! I just fucking can’t! I’m sorry, but that’s the fucking truth. I never fucking loved you, Y/N. Let it the fuck go.”

Another harsh sob wracks my body as I come to terms with the fact that he truly never loved me. He never cared about me. He used me, and I let him. I grab my house key out of my small purse and stick it into the lock. I push open the front door, turning to face him before I walk inside, I say, “I could have lived without knowing you never meant anything you told me. You fucking broke me, Rafe. You ruined me. A once bright and happy fucking woman, and you’ve shattered me. I fucking hate you, and I hope you’re happy. Please, just leave me the fuck alone.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I slam the door in his face, quickly locking it and sliding my back down the door until my ass hits the floor. I bring my knees up to my chest, curling in on myself. I let out a loud scream, knowing my parents aren’t home tonight. Sobs wrack my entire body and I feel the physical pain in my chest from where he once lived. He fucking broke me, and I will never forgive him for that.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lorelai-lilith @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust @sylverdragon @ditzyzombiesblog @the-sylver-dragon @nattywatty @urfavpersonality @stupidbxnny @mattyskies @corpsebridenightamare

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[totheblood]

GLORY & GORE

CHAPTER ONE: NOW WE'RE IN THE RING

PAIRING: fwb!ellie williams x reader

SUMMARY: a week after you reunite with your estranged best friend, astrid, for the first time in three years, you are heartbroken to discover her sudden and brutal murder. as you dive deep into the world of sagewood university, you uncover astrid's ties to a shadowy society lurking within the institution's walls. in the midst of all of this, you cross paths with ellie, who you met on the very day you saw astrid again. as ellie helps you figure out what happened to your best friend, you're forced to wonder if everything with ellie is truly as it appears, and if trust can genuinely be given to anyone.

WARNINGS: 18+ SLIGHT SMUT mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x

A/N: i've been working on this one for a while... i hope you enjoy! please send asks, reblog, and reply to this post <;3

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched as you stepped onto Sagewood University’s campus for the first time since Astrid’s death. 

You spent the days following Astrid’s death curled up on your couch, unmoving. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling as you let time pass by slowly, counting the clicks of the clock on your wall each second.

Your mom would check on you every now and then, before she had to leave for work or when she came back home. She would leave a plate of food on the coffee table near you, urging you to eat something, but you had no appetite. It was safe to say that you weren't taking Astrid's death well.

Suddenly, your phone chimed, a ringtone reserved for one person. 

ellie: You okay?

You picked up your phone, reading the message despite the LED lights burning your eyes. It was obvious to anyone that you weren't okay, so you declined to answer. You put your phone back on the table and stared at the same place on the ceiling. It was starting to look like a face, but you were almost sure you were hallucinating. 

The morning they found Astrid’s dead body sprawled out on a table in the library had started like a normal day for you. The sky was still dark when you woke up to your alarm and dragged yourself out of bed. You pulled on the grey hoodie that had been your staple all semester, paired with a red pair of sweatpants you had worn so much they were nearly falling apart. As you walked towards campus, the streets were silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the crunch of gravel beneath your sneakers. But when you reached the library all seemed eerily quiet; the wide glass windows had been frosted with police tape and blocked by large, black police cars. Fear started to sink into your stomach as groups huddled together, their hushed voices filled with whimpers and tears.

“Hey, uh,” you tapped one on the shoulder, “what happened?”

“They found some girl dead,” she replied in a low voice, “Can you believe it?” 

“Do they know who it is?” you asked. Deep in your heart you already knew it was her. 

From the very first day you met Astrid, you knew you had found your person. It was like finding the other piece to a two-piece puzzle. Simple, but rare. In elementary school, she was your personal hero, unafraid to get her hands dirty—or bloody, for that matter—when that kid shoved you during recess. 

Middle school was weird for everyone, but less so for you because you had Astrid. You two invented your own secret language, a series of squiggles and lines that looked like chicken scratch to anyone else. Those notes you passed weren't just ink on paper; they were secret jokes, each scribble another knot in the thread that connected you two.

High school rolled around, and the stakes got higher, the emotions deeper. You realized you liked girls, and the moment you told Astrid, the air between you changed—but not in the way you feared. It was as if she picked up the weight of the situation and took it on as her own, lightening your load just by being there, just by listening. She didn't offer grand gestures or theatrical declarations of support; she didn't need to. Instead, she guided you, step-by-step, through the maze of coming out, as if it was the most natural path you could walk together.

And maybe it was. Because when you look back on everything, every scraped knee and every coded note, every whispered secret and every shared challenge, it all led back to a simple, undeniable truth: life was messy and confusing and downright hard sometimes—but less so with Astrid by your side.

College was supposed to be a fresh chapter, a new horizon where you and Astrid could explore the world as adults. But instead, it turned into a ripping of a page you never saw coming. Within the first week, something broke. Conversations turned into awkward exchanges, laughter gave way to silence, and the natural ease you'd always felt around her failed to exist. You guys just stopped clicking and after a big argument, you stopped hanging out altogether. She became someone you used to know, a piece of your past.

Time went by, and you got used to life without Astrid. Then, out of the blue, you got a text from her last week. She said she wanted to meet up.

She asked to meet at the campus coffee shop, Brain Brew, on a Tuesday morning. It was practically empty in there when you arrived, something that it almost never was. You came early, thinking you would need to find a seat, but now looking at all the empty chairs was less of a concern. 

Behind the bar stood a girl, with short auburn hair and freckles littered across her face, on her phone. When you approached, she straightened up, looking surprised to see you. You read the name on her nametag: Ellie. 

“Uh,” she looked you up and down briefly, “what can I get for you?” 

“What's good?” you asked, eyes scanning the expansive menu ranging from lavender latte's to plain black coffee. 

“Anything I make is good,” she shrugged, eyes still waiting for a response. 

“Then, just an iced vanilla latte,” you ordered, tapping your fingers on the counter. She tapped your order into the tablet in front of her and then stopped for a minute, looking you over again. 

“You go to Sagewood?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Yea,” your brows knit together, as you shifted uncomfortably in your place, “Why?”

“I just feel like I’ve seen you before,” she commented, the price of your latte lighting up on the screen in front of you, “6.74.”

Jesus fuck, you thought, this is why I don't come here. 

“It’s a big campus, you’ve probably just seen me around or something,” you tapped your card, looking back up at her, scanning her face to see if you remembered her from anywhere. Then it clicked, “Did you go to Weston Middle School?”

“Shit,” she breathed, shaking her head and laughing, “yea, for a year.”

“I remember you,” you laughed, a smile spread across your face, “you used to eat lunch alone every day and when I tried to sit next to you you told me to ‘Fuck off’.”

You saw her physically wince as she pulled your receipt out of the dispenser, “Fuck,” she shook her head again, closing her eyes painfully, “I’m sorry, that was not a good year for me.”

“I don't think 11 is a good year for anyone,” you joked back, taking your receipt from her, “It’s all good, don't worry about it.” 

She let out a little laugh, her cheeks growing a tinge darker as she scratched the back of her neck, “I’ll get that drink started for you,” she moved towards the espresso machine before stopping and turning back towards you, “Wait, can I get your name?” She paused for a moment, examining the expression on your face, “For the order.”

Smiling, you gave her your name, and stood at the end of the counter, waiting for your drink. Astrid was now five minutes late, and you just realized she may be standing you up. 

“Do you go to Sagewood?” you asked Ellie from across the espresso machine. She looked up at you over the machine, waiting for the espresso to brew. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “for psych.”

“Oh, you want to be a therapist?” you leaned your hands on the counter looking around the empty room. 

“Something like that,” she breathed out a laugh, eyes flicking up to you for a moment, “What are you doing?”

“Journalism,” you smiled, watching as she made your drink, “Do you think I could get your number?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could think. You watched as the smile from her face fell, the blood that was in her cheeks being replaced with pale skin.

“Oh, uh” she fumbled over her words almost dropping the cup of milk she was holding, “I don’t really date, it not my-”

“Oh, not like that,” you cut her off, trying to save yourself the embarrassment, “Just like as friends, I don’t really have that many around campus.” 

“Oh,” she breathed out a laugh, relief flooding her features, “Yeah, sure then. I’d love to be friends.”

When she handed you her drink she handed you her phone with the contacts app already open. You took your coffee and the phone, smiling slightly as you put your name and number in. 

“Here,” you giggled, “sorry if that was weird. I wasn’t like coming on to you or anything. I mean not that you aren’t attractive cause you are- But it’s also not like I’m not into girls, cause I am. Jesus fuck,” you whispered under your breath, “It’s just that I also... Don’t date,” you lied. 

You watched the permanent smirk on her face as you rambled off and she took her phone back and let out another breathy laugh. 

“Well, it’s not that you aren’t attractive either,” she rubbed the back of her neck, watching intently as you sipped your drink, “so if you wanted to like, I don’t know, hook up sometime, I would be down for that.” 

You practically choked on your latte when she said that, eyes wide as you tried to cover up your spluttering with a cough, “Um, yeah. That sounds cool, or whatever.” 

“Cool,” she pursed her lips, nodding before turning back to wipe the counter down, “I’ll text you.”

As if it was fate the bell rang behind you, signaling Astrid’s entrance. You turned to look at her and give her a once over. She looked a lot more frazzled since you last saw her, her blond hair was still as long and came past her shoulders, but it was frizzier as if she had just woken up. The circles under her eyes were more prominent, and when you smiled at her, she didn’t smile back. You didn’t want to approach her first, so you just waited until she came up to you and gave you a hint of a smile. 

“Should we sit?” She asked, her voice much raspier now as she looked around to the empty cafe, the tension in her body easing up.

“Sure,” you followed her lead as she led you to the back, away from any windows and farther away from the bar. You looked over to where Ellie was still working, wondering how loud you would need to shout for her to hear you. 

“What did you want to talk about?” you started, noticing her slightly anxious state as she took shallow breaths, “I mean, I missed you.”

“This isn’t about us,” her voice was cold when she spoke, the words hurting you more than you thought it would, “I just think you are the only person I can trust.”

“Okay,” you took a sip of your latte, nursing it in your hands, “do you need to tell me something?”

“No,” she took a deep breath, “Just that if something happens to me, it will have to be you to figure out who does it.” 

“Jesus,” you breathed out, leaning in to whisper back, “What the fuck have you gotten into, A?” 

She winced at the sound of her nickname, looking down at the table before looking around again at the still-empty cafe, “I should be fine,” she sighed, “but if I’m not, you will know what to do.”

“How the fuck would I know what to do?” you spoke a little louder, throwing your hands up dramatically as you leaned back, “I mean this is ridiculous, you completely blow me off freshman year and now you’re telling me I have to worry about someone who doesn’t even want to be my friend anymore?”

“You’re being melodramatic,” she blinked a few times, before sitting up straight, “I didn’t come here to fight you.” 

“No, you just came to make sure I’d be there whenever you got yourself into trouble,” your voice was harsh as you stood up from your seat abruptly, ready to leave. 

“Please, sit down,” she urged, looking up at you with her big round eyes.

“No, thanks,” you replied sarcastically, giving her a fake smile, “Go fuck yourself.”

Go fuck yourself. 

That was the last thing you ever told Astrid before she was murdered. 

The guilt followed you all the way back home that night in stunned silence. You were too shocked to even tell your professor you weren’t coming to class that day, missing a midterm. You knew you would make it up eventually, but now, all you could do was sit and stare and hope to wake up from whatever nightmare you were living. 

To make matters worse, as you sat on your bed, still dressed in your clothes from earlier a note was slipped under your door. A thick cream cardstock, with embossed trimmings covered in gold, and written delicately on the front in script, “Keep your mouth shut, or you’re next.”

At the time, you immediately threw it out, not thinking much of it. Your brain was stuffed with things you didn’t want to think about, flashes of your childhood coming back in brief intervals. The vision of the two of you at the carnival, faces stuffed with cotton candy, giggling as you boarded the Ferris Wheel for the first time on your own came back first. You remember going around with her three times until the sun went down and the houses began to look like stars in the sky. Lit up and far away.

Another memory flashed, her crying in your lap in the 8th grade. Jason Charnley rejected her when she asked him if they could go to the dance together. Innocently, you offered to go with her as you stroked her hair, the cries dying out as you cracked joke after joke. By the time she was supposed to go home, she had forgotten what she was even upset about. 

Then a memory of senior year when she showed up on your front step, a giant envelope addressed to her with a giant “Sagewood” on the front. She knew she was accepted from the moment she applied, but the confirmation was validation enough. What really surprised her was your admission, meaning you’d follow after her to college as you usually did.

Then a memory flashed from a week ago, an unknown number lit up your screen the night you met Astrid in the cafe. 

ellie: Hey, this is Ellie.

ellie: From Brain Brew.

you: wrong number

you: but what are you wearing, ellie?

ellie: Nvm.

you: stooooop come back

you: i was being annoying, i apologize

you: what are you doing rn?

ellie: Come find out. 

That’s how you found yourself pressed up against Ellie’s door, her knee wedged in between your legs, a small whimper falling from your lips that were wrapped up in Ellie’s. Ellie's lips were soft and full, her touch gentle, calloused hands gripping your clothed waist. You could feel her heart pounding in time with your own, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

Your hands, no longer under your own control, moved around her waist to pull her closer still, while her hands roamed over your back, exploring, caressing. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt her hands roam up your body

The kiss deepened as you explored each other’s mouths with your tongues. Her lips were insistent, demanding as if she couldn't get enough of you. You were overwhelmed by the taste of her, a mix of mint and coffee. She slipped her hands under your shirt, her hands traveling up your back, causing goosebumps to rise exclusively where she touched. Her hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it, her mouth never leaving yours as you moaned into her mouth. Ellie’s hands, still under your shirt, moved to cup your tits in her hand, pushing you back against the door as she did so. 

She broke the kiss, her lips trailing down your jaw, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed and sloppy kisses on your skin. Her teeth nipped at the skin on your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. Her hands began teasing your nipples with gentle squeezes and flicks. She was relishing in every sound you made, every way you squirmed underneath her touch. She could feel herself getting wet from the small sounds alone. Then you moaned out loud as Ellie's lips found their way to your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as hers, and she was gone completely.

Her hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, over the curve of your hips, until they reached the waistband of your pants. Before you knew it, her fingers slipped beneath the fabric, two fingers circling your clit as she worked you.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, “this is for me?” The sound of her fingers and your cunt made an obscene noise, her fingers now completely coated in you. Your hands fumbled with the buttons of Ellie's shirt, desperate to feel her skin against yours. You popped them off one by one, fingers faltering as she touched you, revealing her toned stomach, and you couldn't help but run your hands at the place right above her worn-out jeans, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your touch.

Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching her face for any regret, any idea that you wanted to back out now. "You want this?" she whispered, her voice low and rough. You nodded, unable to form words as your body leaned into her.

----

That’s all you remembered that night, slipping out sometime before Ellie woke up. You assumed that since this was “strictly a hookup” she wouldn’t want to see you there in the morning. She did vaguely reference you sleeping over, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

So before the sun came up, you slipped from Ellie’s grip, slipping on the clothes you came in and doing the infamous walk of shame back to your dorm. This wasn’t a relationship, and the proactive version of yourself had to be reminded of that many times that week.

You began to think that if you maybe hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in Ellie the week after meeting with Astrid, you would have noticed something. Maybe even have been able to prevent her death. A part of you wanted to resent Ellie for that, but you knew at the end of the day you were trying to put the blame on anyone but yourself.

She reached out for help, but you denied her. 

The best friend you swore to protect, who swore to protect you was now dead, and you could have prevented it. Wallowing in it wasn’t helping much, but provided some emotion to feel other than numb. So back in your childhood home, your fingers lingered over Ellie’s contact, wondering if you should text her back. You didn’t have a plan to return back to school yet and you didn’t want to give her false hope.

Maybe she could fuck the grief out of you, or wrap her to-

you: as good as i can be

ellie: This sucks.

you: truer words have never been spoken

ellie: But hey, I need to talk to you. Do you know when you’ll be back on campus?

ellie: I’m not trying to like fuck you or anything cause that would be fucked up.

ellie: Ignore that last message. I’m just realizing now how weird that was. I'm sorry.

ellie: Anyways, I just need to talk to you about something, it’s serious. Don’t wanna text it to you.

you: i should be back soon, i don't know yet. 

ellie: Well, when you do come back, let me know.  

You stared at your phone, your fingers ghosting over Ellie’s message before deciding to reply with a thumbs up. Pathetic, but it was all you could muster as you finally sat up and ate the food your mom left for you. It was about time to return to your life, falling behind not being an option anymore.

You worked too hard to get into Sagewood in the first place to stop now, a year before you were set to graduate. Sagewood was on par with the Ivy League schools, bearing an acceptance rate of 9% and accepting students internationally. There were about a thousand on-campus clubs, sororities, and study groups. There were even rumored secret societies, but you were never one to believe in that sort of thing. People who graduated with a degree from Sagewood were set for life. There was no room to screw up three years of good grades okay grades. 

So that’s how you found yourself back on campus, tightly gripping the straps of your bag. As if snapped back into reality, the memories of that night flooded back. You just began to remember the note you threw away that threatened your life, as you made your way to your morning class, an unsettling feeling setting in your stomach. It almost felt as if you were being watched. 

As you sat in class, you shuffled in your seat as the kid a few rows in front of you turned to look at you. When he noticed you staring back he turned around quickly. The whole class you had your eyes trained on the back of his head, watching as he would occasionally look at you, notice you looking, and turn back around. You knew you were being paranoid when you first walked onto campus, but now you felt validated.

As the teacher dismissed the class, the kid who kept staring at you collected his things and attempted to leave the room quickly, but you wouldn’t let that happen. You rushed to meet him at the door and stood in front of him, a bitter look on your face. 

“You’ve got a staring problem,” you commented accusingly, hands folding across your chest.

“You’re just really,” he coughed, looking around as other people pushed past you to the exit, the professor included, “pretty. You’re pretty, that’s why I was staring.”

“I know I am,” you turned to shut the door behind the last person exiting the room, “but do you really think I’m that stupid? What gives?”

“I’m late for my clas-” he began to stumble out before you took another menacing step towards him. 

“You won’t make it there if you don’t tell me why the fuck you were staring at me,” you pointed a finger right in the center of his chest, making him gulp loudly. 

“It’s just,” he takes another step back, “you were friends with the dead girl.”

“The dead girl?” you spat back at him, your tone laced with venom, “Her name was Astrid, you dick.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He breathed out, “I’m just a true crime junkie, I’m intrigued about her case.”

“Her case?” you questioned him, taking a step back to make him feel more comfortable. To make him open up to you. 

“Just that they have no leads yet,” he scoffed, “which is weird if you ask me. No suspects yet she’s killed in a very public place?”

“That happens all the time,” you retorted, hands still crossed protectively across your chest.

“It’s not as common as you think,” he shrugged, “they haven’t questioned you yet?”

Now that he brought it up, the whole situation was weird. If they were trying hard to find out what happened to her, why weren’t you called in for questioning? It wasn’t like you had done it, but you did have a motive, and you had just come into contact with her again, shortly before her murder. If there was any person to question, it would be you, but yet here you were, untouched.

“No, they haven’t,” you mumbled back, your mind moving a million miles per minute. 

“See,” he smirked, “weird.”

“Wipe that stupid ass smile off your face,” you spat back, “she’s still dead, and just because you ‘like true crime’ doesn’t give you a right to talk about her. It’s not like you’re going to solve her murder.”

“I just might,” he stated simply.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, turning towards the door to leave now.

“Did you know she was part of a secret society?” he questioned, making you still for a moment.

You turned back around to face him, eyes squinted again, arms crossed firmly over your chest, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head, something sinister in the way he hung his head, “I do my research and I do it well.”

“You sound like a nutcase,” you spat again, trying to stop the anger from bubbling inside of you. It felt weird to talk about Astrid as if she was a mystery. In all the people in the world, you knew her the best. You knew each and every corner of her life, even when you weren’t speaking. But now, as you stood here, you weren’t sure you ever knew her at all. 

“They are called Oculus Noctis,” he shrugged again, standing up taller as if he had just won this fight, or whatever this was, “look them up, then come find me,” he walked closer to you now, making you want to cower away, but you didn’t. You planted your feet down, straightening your posture. Although he looked more confident now, you could tell he was still intimidated by you, “my name’s Corbin Nott. I run a podcast, look me up too.”

Smiling, he brushed past you leaving you standing alone in the room. You let out what felt like a deep breath you were holding for a while, your breath coming out shallow and shaky.  Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest, and come out of your ears and nose as you bled out on the floor, but you just stayed unmoving taking deep breaths as you placed a hand over your chest to steady yourself. 

Your hands began to shake a little, trembling as you moved to sit down at one of the desks, a failed attempt at calming yourself. The breaths came quicker as it started to feel like you couldn’t breathe, like your heart was pumping blood into your lungs and you were drowning. Your vision blurred as you stared at the desk, which was now full of wet droplets. Were you crying? You lifted a shaky hand to wipe at your cheeks, and as you expected you felt your damp skin covered in tears. 

You were trying hard to collect yourself now, knowing that students from the next class would probably start flooding in and you wouldn’t be able to move. You would just sit at a front desk crying as whatever poor professor tried to teach. C’mon get it together, get it fucking together, you thought. What was it they said to do? 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, and the other three got lost on you. 

You looked around, and through teary eyes you could see a clock on the wall, ticking slower than usual. You could see the whiteboard in front of you, smugged with black dry-erase markers, and you could see the dark hardwood floors, clean and polished. You watched your hands and your tears on the desk and suddenly your breathing started to feel normal.

Thank god you did because by the time you were wiping your last tear from your eyes, the door to the classroom was swinging open and a student was walking in. You kept your head down, so they wouldn’t see your teary eyes and red nose, but that also stopped you from seeing them. So when the person called your name out, you had to look up, only to see…

“Ellie,” you mumbled, watching the smile on her face drop as her eyes scanned your face. Gripping her backpack straps she walked closer to you slowly, crouching down in front of the desk you were sitting at. Her green eyes darted from your eyes to your nose, to your lips, and to the desk, clearly wet.

“Hey,” she whispered, “are you okay?” She reluctantly reached a hand out to wipe at your face, unsure if you were okay with being touched or if you even liked to be comforted. She wiped a tear away from your cheek, her calloused thumb rubbing your cheek gently, “What happened?”

“I-I’m fine,” you stuttered out, closing your eyes at the skin-to-skin contact, “Still upset I guess,” you let out a shaky laugh, hoping to see a small smile on Ellie’s face as you opened your eye, but she just looked worried. Her brow wrinkled a bit, and it looked as if she was still searching for something in your eyes, but was coming up empty. She cleared her throat before looking away, retracting her hand from her face. 

“You’re not fine.” She grumbled back, standing up now, causing you to look up at her, “You shouldn’t be back here so soon.”

“What?” you joked, “Not excited to see me?”

She rolled her eyes playfully, a small blush tinted on her face as she nudged your shoulder lightly, “Not excited at all,” she commented sarcastically, making you crack a bigger smile, “c’mon let’s get out of here,” she motioned her head to the door, making you stand up shakily and stand in front of her. 

“Don’t you have class?” you asked, your own expression laced with worry. You watched as her face softened slightly at this, pursing her lips and looking you up and down. 

“I can skip it,” she shrugged, “plus, I wanted to talk to you.” 

You let out a small laugh, “God, you sound obsessed with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed you, walking towards the door, pulling it open, and holding it for you, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Giving her a small smile you walked out with her, your hands placed firmly in your pockets. You stepped out onto the main grass of Sagewood, where people were sitting, laughing, as their lives moved on. The smell of the grass was strong, as you walked down the cobbled path, Ellie looking at you quickly before taking a deep breath. 

“So, I went by your room the day after your friend-” she started, 

“Astrid,” you practically whispered back.

‘Astrid,” she paused, “After she died,” she cleared her throat, “I’m so sorry by the way.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say that.”

“Sorry,” she cleared her throat, “Anyways, I went there the day after and you weren’t there, but there was this book on your desk.”

“What?” you stopped in your tracks looking at her, “There was no book on my desk when I got back.” 

“I know,” she sighed, looking around, “I took it,” she watched as your eyes widened and you took a step back.

“Why the fuck would you take something off my desk?” you questioned, anger written all over your face. Ellie shifted uncomfortably, chewing on her bottom lip as you questioned her.

“Because it was Astrid’s, and I thought,” her voice died out, and your wide eyes just pressed her on, your arms once again folding over your chest.  

“You thought what?” 

“I thought that it was evidence,” she breathed out, “I thought that if they found that in your room it would be pinned on you.”

“You think I killed her?” your voice was loud now, making people around you stop and stare. Ellie looked around uncomfortably, closing her eyes as she took another deep breath. 

“Of course not!” she whisper yelled back, “You were at mine the night she was murdered, but if they found that in your room, it would have been on you.”

“So, you stole it,’ you deadpanned, eyebrows raised and accusing, “Why do you even care if I go down for it? You barely know me.”

“Because believe it or not, you are one of my only friends,” she looked away, her arms crossing over her chest as if to protect herself, “Like ever. So forgive me if I didn’t want you to be framed for murder.”

Your expression softened, arms falling to your sides as you looked up at her and then back at the ground, “I appreciate that.” 

“You can have it back, obviously,” she mumbled, eyes trained on her own shoes as her arms uncrossed and her fingers began to play with each other, “I just… didn’t want you to get in trouble. It’s all gibberish anyways, just a bunch of words that don't make sense.”

That made your heart stop, as you blinked up at her. “What did you just say?” She looked up at you, shrugging as she rolled her eyes.

“The journal, it’s like just a bunch of random words, I tried to find out what language it was but I came up short,” she was still playing with her fingers, obviously nervous as she picked at her nails, “But, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. It was a weird thing to do.”

“I still want to be your friend, Ellie,” you sighed, “I just need to see this journal, like now,” you watched as a small smile flashed across her face and he shoulders seemed to lose all their tension.

“Yeah, we could head over to my dorm right now,” she began walking, turning her head back to make sure you were following her, “I’m sorry agai-”

“Ellie, if you apologize again I’ll jump you,” you teased, smiling up at her as you walked side by side.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” she teased back, voice low as she let out a small laugh.

-

As you walked into Ellie’s dorm, you instantly became nervous again, your guilt creeping up the back of your neck. The night Astrid was killed, you were in bed with Ellie, laughing as she traced circles into your inner thigh. She talked about how much she hated her professors, working and Brain Brew, and how weird everyone on campus was. Well, everyone except for you. 

That night you stayed up and watched 30 Rock on Hulu until Ellie fell asleep, Ellie’s laughter gradually fading into soft snores. Her head found a resting spot on your shoulder, her rhythmic breaths warming your neck. You slipped out quietly, walking back to your dorm with a shit-eating grin on your face, and fell asleep unassuming. 

Your fingers traced the outline of Ellie’s desk, as you eyed Astrid’s journal that was sat in the center of it. It was covered in green felt, her name embossed on the front of it in gold letters. You pulled out the chair in front of the desk, sitting at it to begin reading the book. You paused for a moment, wondering if you even wanted to open it. Flipping open the front page, there was the language you created in middle school on every page. Pages and pages, the book was filled. When Astrid said it would be up to you to solve her murder, she meant it literally. 

On the front page was printed “Fepi Quslo Vurte Dabru” which translates to “My Oculus Noctis Journey.”

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, finger brushing over the letters on the page, feeling the imprint the pen made on the paper. 

“What?” Ellie stepped forward, looking over your shoulder at the book, “You know what this says?”

You sighed deeply, eyes trained on the words, “Yeah,” you turned to look up at her, “I do.”

“How?” her tone was more curious than shocked, sitting on her bed as she watched you. 

“It’s a language we created in middle school,” you closed the book, stuffing it in your bag as you turned to stare at Ellie. You watched as she looked at you in amazement, eyes wide and mouth hung open. 

“You created a fucking language?” she asked, laughing a little, “Jesus, you Sagewood students are crazy.”

“Ellie, you also go here,” you laughed, leaning your elbow on the desk, “Plus, Astrid mostly created it. She was smart like that.”

Ellie looked at you again, a small smile playing on her face, “You’re smart too, you know.”

“Not as smart as she was,” your smile turned to a sad one as you looked at your knees, not wanting to cry again.

“Hey,” Ellie said, voice low as she tried to get your attention. When you looked up, she smiled at you, eyes soft, “You're really fucking smart, just remember that.”

You gave her a forced smile, looking back down at your feet, “Thank you,” your voice came out cracked, “I needed that.”

“What did the first page say?” 

“My Oculus Noctis Journey,” you replied, shrugging. 

“Oh shit,” she laughed, “she was involved with those freaks?”

You sat up straight at this, scanning her face, “You know about them?” 

“Sadly,” she replied nonchalantly, “I don't know much about them except that they exist. They tried to recruit me, but I don't think they know that I know that it was them.”

“What? What do you mean?” you asked eagerly, words coming out quickly. 

“They recruit people on campus but they make it seem like they are just regular clubs,” she recounted, “Like they had a ‘coding club’ and at the club fair they had this code that they asked people to encrypt, it was extremely hard too. I did it and they sent me this weird email, asking me to do more shit. I just kind of didn't respond but traced the email to their own web service.”

“I thought that the secret society stuff was just like rumors.”

“Nope,” she popped her lips on the ‘p’, “Real shit. I just don't know what they exist for or anything.”

“I think I may have to figure that out.”

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

hii I was wondering if you could write a

miles morales x male! reader

where the two kiss because they’re curious about their sexuality and that leads to them finding out they aren’t exactly as straight as they initially thought

Ahhhh this is such a good idea!!! Thank you so much!!

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

The Answer Sitting in Front of Me

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: All questions have an answer to find. You just didn’t think you’d find yours in your best friends lips…

Warnings: No actual warnings, just two teenagers figuring themselves out!

It’s the final class of the day, and you’re struggling to stay awake. This isn’t like you, considering the fact you normally go to bed at a decent time so at the end of the day, you’re pretty awake. But today was different. Or rather, last night was different. Recently, you’ve been having…doubts about yourself. Specifically your sexuality. So to—hopefully—get your answer, you spent all night on Google searching up different tests, articles, and videos to answer your burning question. But alas, flashy Buzzfeed quizzes aren’t the remedy you hoped for. So now you’re just here. Tired, ready to get back to the dorms, and still unsure.

A crumpled up piece of paper lands onto your desk. You know exactly who it’s from as you open the note and read it.

"Hey, you don't look so good. Are you alright?”

“Damn, I look so tired you can tell from behind me..” You reply, and ball the note back up as you nonchalantly stretch your arms and drop the note onto his desk. This is how close you and Miles are. It’s easy to tell how the other is feeling just from body language. But at the same time, it wouldn’t take a genius to tell you’re pretty out of it today. You patiently wait for his reply as your teacher drones on and on about something you’ve forgotten about and, frankly, don’t care for. The note returns.

“Yeah. But for real, you’re normally pretty awake when we’re about to leave. What’s wrong?”

You think for a long time. You couldn’t possibly just tell him you’re going through a sexuality crisis! It’d put your relationship in jeopardy! A sigh escapes your lips as you try to think of a bluff, only to scrap the idea knowing Miles would catch it and hound you until you cave in. But what could you possibly say? “Oh, yeah, i think I’m gay and stayed up all night thinking about it. No biggie.” Yeah, right. But at the same time, he opened up to you about him being Spider-Man, so why can’t you just explain your problem to him? “Because he’d hate you.” is the lie your brain is plagued with. You know Miles isn’t homophobic and you know he’d probably just try to help you out. You’ve been through thick and thin with him. He can trust you, and you can trust him.

You realize you’re taking too long when another note flies onto your desk. You don’t read it and just answer the other one: “It’s kinda complicated. Swing by my room when you get a chance, alright?” You toss it back and refocus your attention to the lesson.

It'll be alright.

Right?

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

Time flies and you’re now sitting at your desk in your dorm. Your roommate’s off to who knows where, so you’re by yourself just waiting for that fateful tap on your window from Miles. Normally after school he’ll do some spider stuff before coming back and chilling out for the rest of the day, most of the time with you. That is, unless some guy tries to wreck havoc on Brooklyn, and it’s up to Miles to take them down. As much as it sucks when he has to leave, you admire how dedicated and passionate he is about doing what’s right and protecting what he loves most. You also appreciate how much he’s helped you throughout the school year. High school is no joke, and there have been some times when you felt like all was hopeless. But with Miles there, you came out of those slumps for the better. You also admire the way his eyes shine with that cheeky glow when he says an exceptionally cheesy joke, with that charming smile to go with it. And his kinda cute laugh and—

Oh no.

You groan and lean back in your chair. It’s those thoughts again. The very thoughts that have you so tired and confused. The line between admiration for guys and attraction towards guys has been blurred and now you’re not sure if there even is a difference for you. You close your eyes and continue to think before a shadow blocks out the sun and you hear a knock at the window. “Here we go..” you think to yourself as you unlock the window and open it for Miles.

"How you been?" Miles says as he steps through with that same sweet enthusiasm. He’s not in his Spider-Man suit so you figure all went well. “I’ve just been chilling out,” you say and sit back down, “nothing too exciting.”

He hums in response before taking a seat on your bed. “So what was it you needed to explain that was so complicated? Don’t tell me you’re having an identity crisis!” he jokes. You don’t smile because that’s exactly what it is. He notices the change in your demeanor and grows worried. “Ah..I see,” he looks over you for any hints as to what’s bothering you, “uhm…would you feel comfortable explaining?” he asks.

You take a long moment to think. Is this really a good idea? Should you even tell him? It’s not like you’re confessing to him so bad how could it be? You take a slow, long breath in, and release it just as slow. “I think….i think i like guys…” You finally say. “And i spent all night trying to figure that out, which is why i was so tired in class today.”

Well there it is. It’s out.

You both sat in silence and stared at each other for a long moment. Miles looked like he was in disbelief. Great, you blew it. You go to try and reverse the damage before Miles speaks up.

“Wait, really?! You too?!” He exclaims much to your surprise. You too? Wait so does he…

“You’ve been thinking the same thing?” You ask him.

“Yeah! Like, all the time!”

This is some news. You thought he was gonna try to leave and awkwardly forget about the situation. Never did you consider the possibility of him thinking the same thing. But now what? You know he’s possibly not straight like you, but what are you supposed to do with this information? Honestly you didn’t think you’d make this far. “So,” you speak up, “what now? I mean, we’ve got the same problem. How do we solve it?” A good move on your end. Not too leading, but leading enough to keep the conversation going without you both just changing the subject.

“Uhm…have you ever kissed a girl before?” He asks, his eyes avoiding yours.

“No, why?"

"Well, i was just thinking we could..." he trails off, hoping you get the memo.

"Think we could—“ you’re cut off by the realization hitting you— “Oh…i…get what you’re saying. Kiss and compare how it feels when we kiss a girl, right?”

He sheepishly nods. “Yeah, but neither of us have kissed a girl so it wouldn’t work.” His eyes fall to the floor, and you’re stuck looking at the wall. A kiss? Would that really work? Maybe neither of you need to have kissed a girl—or anyone else for that matter—to see compare how it feels when you kiss a boy. You’re a boy. He’s a boy. Why should you have any prior experience? But is it a good idea? What if you like it, but he doesn’t? There’s only one way to find out..

Forget words. You get up and stand in front of Miles. Your hands find a spot on his face and they stay there as you look deep into his eyes. A question. A silent way of asking for permission when words aren’t good enough. He nods and you lean in, gently bringing his face to yours.

After what feels like an eternity, your lips meet. At first you’re both hesitant, but it’s as if a spark went through you both as you relax and lean in to the kiss. Miles holds your hands on his face and let’s the kiss linger for a moment longer than you both thought it’d last. It’s the sweetest first kiss one could have. The world only starts to spin again when you both pull away, practically breathless.

"Did…did that answer your question?" Miles asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah. Did it answer yours?”

Miles nods and leans in again for another kiss with more confidence. His hands find yours and he brings you down onto the bed to sit beside him, before slowly pulling away again.

“Yeah…” he breathes.

You’re a lot more awake now.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

[annabelle--cane]

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

[bedsyandco]

You Are In Love • Luke and Violet

Note: in which Violet goes to NJ and they finally get together. Dates are a little hazy, just go with it. It’s unedited so there will probably be little fixes here and there. I tried,I’m sorry if it’s not what you expected!!

WC: 3.4K

“I already booked your ticket. You’re coming to Jersey”

-

Jack had texted her that message less than 48 hours ago, and here she was on a plane to Jersey. Her fingers automatically go to the pendant around her neck, tracing the little “L”. She’s always been a nervous flyer, which is why Jack bought her a ticket in first class. Violet told Jack it was unnecessary to spend that much money to which he replied that as long as Violet comes to Jersey and makes his brother stop pouting, it’s money well spent.

She gets an automatic smile on her face thinking about her best friend. They haven’t been apart that long but she’s definitely been feeling his absence. She feels it when she goes over to the sophomore house and his regular seat on the couch is open, no one daring to sit on it even when he’s not there. She feels it when she goes to Starbucks and gets Luke’s regular order, only to have to give it to someone else when she realizes he’s not there.

She feels it when there’s a movie night and Luke isn’t sitting next to her whispering comments in her ear. And when it’s 3AM and she realizes she hasn’t eaten dinner because there was no Luke to force her to stop studying and take care of herself. Or when she makes a stupid joke and no one laughs, because Luke definitely would’ve gotten it. She feels it when she’s laying in bed and there’s no Luke to press her cold feet against.

She just misses him so much. All the time. It made her think about what she did before she met him, but she can barely remember a time where he wasn’t in her life anymore. For the last seven years, it’s always been Luke and Violet. You won’t see one without the other. Even at family events, the other one always came along. Since the day she’s met Luke they’ve been inseparable.

-

Grade 8

Violet turns to the right when she feels a tap on her right shoulder, meeting the eyes of a curly headed boy who’s smiling at her a little sheepishly.

“Can I borrow a pencil?” he asks, his voice somehow both nervous and self “assured at the same time.

“Do you always come to Math class without a pencil on the first day?” Violet asks a little tensely. She was a very serious student and she wasn’t about to spend the whole semester sitting next to someone who couldn’t even be bothered to show up to class prepared.

“Uh no. I accidentally broke mine. Nerves.” he explains, holding up the two separate pieces of the broken pencil, cheeks going a little red in embarrassment.

Violet opens her bag and grabs a pencil. Luke bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the 10 pencils she has in her bag. Ten!

“I like to be prepared,” she explains, and he realizes he failed to hide his amusement.

“Totally. Great habit.” Luke says seriously, not wanting to offend the girl.

“Keep it. You’re gonna need a pencil for the rest of the day,” Violet says when Luke goes to return the pencil at the end of class.

“What’s your next class?” Luke asks as they pack up.

“English, with Foster,” Violet replies.

“Oh would you look at that, we have another class together,”

“Oh joy,” Violet says sarcastically and Luke throws his head back as he laughs and Violet tries not to stare. She really likes his laugh.

The next morning when Violet gets to class her pencil is waiting for her on the desk, along with a cinnamon bun, her favourite treat, just like she told Luke yesterday during their little get to know each other session, and a little note that reads “Thanks Vi” in handwriting way prettier than Luke’s which makes her think maybe his mom wrote it, and the thought puts a smile on her face.

-

It wasn’t long after that, that they had their first little study date and Luke invited her to his game, and ever since then she’s always been the only girl to wear his jersey. Sometimes Violet thinks about how different both of their lives would be if they didn’t choose to sit in those seats. Luke always tells her that they were fated to be best friends and that even if they didn’t meet in that class he would’ve met her somewhere else. Violet doesn’t know if she fully believes in fate but it’s much better than imagining a world where her and Luke don’t know each other at all.

Sometimes Violet can’t believe her and Luke have been friends for about 7 years now. That they’ve been through so much together, been there for so many milestones. They’ve both changed and grown so much over the years, but the more Luke has grown up, the better person he becomes and the more she loves him. Violet has always had feelings for Luke, there’s always been a little something more, a little flutter in her stomach whenever he smiles at her, lingering touches, longing gazes.

-

Senior Year

The drive to Violet’s lake house was peaceful. After their graduation ceremony and getting lunch with their families, both Luke and Violet decided to make the drive up to her lake house. It was a planned trip, a few of their friends joining later in the weekend to spend some time together before everyone scatters for the summer. Luke and Violet would have tonight and tomorrow by themselves, getting settled and preparing the lake house for guests.

Luke gasps as Violet turns down the volume, shooting her a mock offended look.

“I’m not listening to your and Jack’s hillbilly playlist all the way there,” she says and Luke laughs.

“You love our hillbilly playlist. Don’t lie,” he replies turning the volume back up and squeezing her thigh, grinning when she jerks away, just like he knew she would.

“Make my world go black,” Luke starts singing.

“Absolutely not,” Violet protests immediately.

“Hit me like a heart attack,” he continues

“Just no!,”

“Knock me flat on my back,”

“Luke Warren Hughes!” she warns

“Brush me with your hair,” he sings, dramatically running his hand over Violet’s hair, covering half her face.

“Stop!” she yells, unable to contain her laughter.

“I’ll stop if you hold my hand,” he says, holding his hand out, palm up and Violet instantly slips her hand into his.

“You’re still wearing this?” she asks fiddling with the violet coloured bracelet around his wrist.

“Of course. Haven’t taken it off since you gave it to me. It’s my good luck charm,” he explains

“I thought I was your good luck charm…” she teases

“You are, but I can’t put you in my pocket and take you with me everywhere I go…as much as I wish I could.” Luke says and his hand lands on the inner side of her thigh, resting there. Violet looks out the window hoping Luke doesn’t notice the blush on her cheeks and wraps her hand around his arm, holding it the rest of the way there.

Later that night after they had set up everyone’s rooms and went for a little swim in the hot tub, they were laying on the bed, both focused on their own phones when Luke suddenly got up.

“I got you a little graduation gift,” he states walking over to her with a small box in his hand. He hands it over, standing in front of her while she’s sitting on the bed.

“We said we weren’t doing gifts, I didn’t get you anything.” Violet says while gently opening the box and seeing a necklace with a “L” pendant.

“I got it so that it doesn’t matter where you go to school next year, I’ll always be with you.” Luke explains, a little insecure.

“It’s beautiful, I love it. Thank you,” she replies, standing up and handing it to him so he can put it on for her. Luke’s hands trembled a little as they try to clasp it together. Violet was still in her bikini, and Luke in his swim trunks and they were both a little distracted with the amount of skin exposed.

“Luke?” Violet says as she turns around looking up at him.

“Yeah…” he answers, eyes dipping to where the “L” rests just above her breasts.

“I’m going to Michigan next year.” she states and his eyes shoot up to meet hers.

“What?” he asks, making sure he heard correctly. Not wanting to get his hopes up.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else. I’m going to Michigan State next year,”

“Michigan State?” he questions, his joy dimming for a second.

“No, I’m just kidding. Our Michigan. You should’ve seen your face,” she giggles and he visibly relaxes.

“Oh my God, we’re going to Michigan together?” he asks disbelievingly and she nods. She squeals when he pulls her closer, a hand going on each thigh as he picks her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, both her arms looping around his neck.

Luke buries his face in her neck, just squeezing her tight for a few seconds. The need to hold her close didn’t go away and that’s how they ended up in bed together. Luke’s head resting on Violet’s chest as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t wait to tell my mom. She’s going to be so happy,” Luke mumbles, remembering how sad Ellen got when Luke told her Violet was looking at going to university in another state.

Luke lifts his head, meeting Violet’s eyes, the biggest grin on his face.

“What?” she asks, gently running her thumb over his cheek.

“Nothing.” he replies, lowering his head and placing little kisses on her collarbone. She tilts her head to the side, giving him more room when he starts kissing up her neck.

“You’re so beautiful. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” he whispers and Violet can’t contain the smile that spreads across her face. Luke’s head ends up on her chest again and both of them are just content laying there in the silence, until Violet breaks it.

“You’re getting drafted soon. Isn’t that crazy?” Violet whispers. It feels like yesterday that Quinn got drafted, and Luke told her about how his own draft day feels forever away. Now it’s almost here.

“You don’t have to look so sad. It’s not like I’m leaving immediately,” he says but frowns when the crease between her brow only deepens.

Luke wasn’t going to leave immediately. But some day he would be leaving. And what would Violet do then? Sit idly by in Michigan while Luke moves to a new city without her. Probably getting the same attention from girls that both his brothers are getting. The thought leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She shouldn’t care this much. They’re not together and she has no right to be jealous. Besides what’s the alternative? Move with him? Chase after him just like she’s been doing since they met? Get a front row seat to witness how Luke doesn’t reciprocate the feelings she has. She’s not going to subject herself to that. It’s already torture enough that’s she’s going to have to see all the attention he’s going to be getting at Michigan.

“Hey,” Luke breaks her out from her thoughts. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replies half-heartedly.

“Violet,” Luke says and then hesitates like he’s not sure if he should continue. His hand cupping her jaw, thumb tracing her lips.

Say it. Say something. Say anything. Violet begs in her head.

“You’re my best friend.” Luke says.

Anything I don’t already know, she thinks but only sends him a little smile.

“You’re my best friend too Lukey,”

-

Violet can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if she had the guts to tell him that night instead of waiting for him to do it. If she was only delaying the inevitable. There’s a limited number of things that Violet can’t live without. Cinnamon buns. A good iced latte. Her family. Her journal. And Luke Hughes. That’s probably what’s held her back all these years, the fear of losing him for good. But what good is it to have him, if she can’t have all of him.

Violet can’t stop the warmth from spreading in her chest when she gets off the plane and goes to find Jack, who was waiting for her, leaning against his car.

“You need a haircut,” she says teasingly as she stops in front of him and he sends her a lazy smile.

“It’s good to see you too,” he answers, giving her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before taking her bags to put them in the trunk.

“You didn’t need to come get me, I could’ve gotten an uber” Violet says as they’re in the car, on the way to his apartment.

“Yeah right. My brother would kill me if he finds out I let you take an uber from the airport. So would my mom. So would Quinn. My whole family actually. Besides I wanted to, I’m probably not gonna see you much on this trip, might as well get some quality J and V time in somewhere,” Jack says sending her a warm smile.

“Thanks Jacky. And thanks for flying me out.” she says

“No problem. You’re doing me a favor really. If I have to spend one more night on the couch while Luke mopes about missing you, I might actually kill him.” Jack says.

Violet smiles softly, feeling a little reassured to know Luke misses her as much as she misses him. Her hand subconsciously moves to her necklace and Jack catches the move out of the corner of his eye.

“Nervous?” he asks

“Excited. And a little nervous,” she admits

“He’s gonna be really happy to see you,” Jack reassures her and they fall into a comfortable silence after that until they get home.

“He’s in his room, probably sleeping. Just wake him up, we both know he won’t mind if it’s you.” Jack says when the two of you walk into the apartment and he sets your bag down.

“You’re not staying?” She asks when Jack makes his way back towards the door.

“Nah, I’m gonna head out for a little bit. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry,” he says and slips out the door before she could reply.

Violet takes a deep breath, taking a moment to observe the apartment. She makes her way towards the room Jack pointed to. Luke’s room.

She hesitates outside the door for a second before softly turning the knob and pushing the door open. She’s met with the sight of Luke’s chest softly rising up and down, his eyes closed, body facing the door, the sounds of his steady breathing filling the room.

She quietly stumbles over to the bed in her sock clad feet, taking a seat on the bed next to him and gently brushing a curl from his forehead. She gently lays down, not wanting to wake him, heart beating erratically when he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer, his face resting in the slope of her neck. Not long after, violet drifts off to sleep, completely content for the first time in a few nights.

About two hours later Luke wakes up a little disoriented, not wanting to open his eyes yet. He feels something, or someone, stir next to him and he immediately opens his eyes, panic gripping him for a brief moment until he smells the familiar scent.

Luke lifts himself onto his elbow, looking down at Violet’s sleeping body next to him. He rubs his eyes a little, shutting them and counting to three before opening them again and breathing a sigh of relief when she’s still there.

He bends down to press a kiss to her cheek, then her nose, counting this all over her face until she blinks softly up at him.

“hey you,” she says and Luke feels thoroughly embarrassed by how that raspy voice went straight to his dick.

“You make it a habit to sneak into people’s beds while they’re sleeping?” he jokes

“Only yours,” Violet answers and he smiles in response.

“When’d you get here? How’d you get here? Why are-“ he rambles and violet kisses his cheek, very close to his lips to shut him up.

“I got here about 2 hours ago, Jack flew me out and there’s really no other reason other than I missed you.” she says

“I missed you more. We’re allowed to sleep in the same bed again now?” Luke asks before he can help himself.

“Uh yeah, Noah’s not gonna care,” she says and Luke frowns

“Really? Cause he was pretty adamant about it…”

“Let me rephrase. Noah’s opinion doesn’t matter anymore, because we broke up,” Violet says and has to stop herself from laughing at Luke’s expression. It’s a mixture of shock and pure happiness.

“When?”

“About a week before the frozen four” violet admits

“That’s like a month ago!” he exclaims

“I know. You had a lot going on though, I didn’t want to add to that.” she says softly

“Are you okay?” he asks

“I’m fine, it’s not like I was in love with him. I never should’ve dated him in the first place. How could I ever truly commit myself to him when I’ve been in love with another person for the past 7 years?”

Luke swallows thickly, his hand going to fix her “L” necklace, tracing it as he asks, “you gonna tell me who?”

“You know who. You know I’ve always been in love with you Luke, just like I know you’ve always seen me as more than just your best friend. I think we’ve both known for a while, we were both just too scared to do anything about it. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least tell you how I felt even if you don’t-” Violet doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as Luke presses his lips to hers. And it feels just as special as it always has and yet it’s more.

Luke wonders if this will ever go away, this constant need he has for her. The need to see her everyday, the need to kiss her whenever he does see her, the need to keep her right here in his bed forever so every ounce of her love and affection is solely focused on him.

“I’m in love with you too my Violet. Probably have been since the moment I met you. I’m sorry it took me so long to be willing to risk you, in order to have you.” Luke whispers against her lips, kissing her softly at the end.

“You know there’s still a risk to this not working out,” Violet says

“I know. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take, and I promise you no matter what happens between us, I will always care for you and I will always love you, and you’re always gonna be my best friend.” Luke replies, softly kissing her once again before pulling her close, soaking up every minute they have together before she has to return back to Michigan.

Deep down Luke’s always known him and Violet was gonna end up together, there’s no way people have chemistry like theirs and not have feelings involved, and in a way he doesn’t regret waiting until this moment for them to get together, because even if they weren’t together, he knows Violet’s always been his.

[cenorii]

In 2021, dirty secrets about the use of bioweapons are revealed inside BSAA + there are direct hints in Umbrella Corps that Wesker is alive. I just combine the two puzzle pieces together in my head. So let's look at another interesting post-2009 scenario.

AU - ELEGY OF FREE RADICALS

Chris was once careless about eliminating Wesker. Knowing his nature, he still didn't check Wesker's presumed place of death properly. Relying on his own luck, Chris left the place of battle and never returned there. But he had to go back. It has become his mistake.

Chris reported the scene of the victory to the BSAA. Rotten BSAA could have used that data in any way they wanted. Like going back there and checking out the volcano. They could have indicated on the documents that they were headed to clear the area of the remnants of Uroboros, but in fact to search for Wesker's remains to get rich off the sale and study of his unique biomaterial. But what they didn't expect was to find him alive. Badly injured, helpless, but somehow alive.

Taking advantage of the weakness of the still living organism, he was taken to the secret laboratory of the headquarters. Now Wesker could be under the supervision of BSAA scientists for a very long time. He's much more useful alive than dead. His knowledge, skills, all of it could be utilized. And it was also possible to conduct endless experiments on his unusual body... Testing the limits of his abilities, testing various poisons, looking at the lethality of their new weapons, and etc. He was once again a puppet, as he had once been in Spencer's hands, from which he had miraculously escaped.

The BSAA kept Wesker's abilities under strict control, he was trivially stripped of any PG67A/W injections, replaced with an alternative that was only necessary for his body to regenerate damage after the battle in the volcano, but didn't provide any additional benefits. So he would remain weak but healthy.

Another remedy was also applied to him, eliminating the consequences of merging with the Uroboros, which modified his body in a volcano. It was discovered in 2011, after the events of Revelations 2. It was rude to call it just a serum, it was something more, because it did not remove the virus itself from the body, but brought it into a more stable form, allowing Wesker to take his ordinary appearance. With him, in this form, it became easier for employees to work.

The BSAA restored Wesker, stripped of his strength, any dignity, as well as his freedom. He was bedridden for several years and various weapons were tested on him, then recorded how his body reacted and at what rate it recovered. An immobilized lab rat, a deserved punishment for someone like him? Perhaps. It was thanks to his "sacrifice" that the anti-regeneration weapon was invented, which had once come in handy for Chris in the battle against Mold.

Just think… how many things could the BSAA have invented using the infinite resources of Wesker's body? He was terrified of these thoughts. Terror at the realization that he had no chance of escape, that he was trapped here forever, that he would continue to have his organs taken out of him and be forced into endless pain. He reflected that he hadn't actually managed to do so many contradictory things to deserve eternal torment. And it's better to let him die than to endure this hell. But his own body played a cruel joke without dying. It was an expert on regeneration. His pride was trampled when he begged for death.

BSAA absolutely did not spend any painkillers and sleeping pills on Wesker, absolutely all experiments were carried out when he was conscious. They had already spent a lot of money on him during his recovery, it was a waste to spend even more on someone who could repair any of his damage.

Pain and terror haunted him for six years. He cursed what he used to idolize in himself.

And then he was forced to work for them. In 6 years he had grown accustomed to the constant pain and had already learned to see himself as nothing, sending his consciousness into free floating. Deep in his thoughts, he created a place where he learned to ignore the endless physical torment. But when he was put on his feet and pulled out of this place… Wesker was even more devastated.

It was unusual for him to suddenly return to normal work, all this created a mess in his head, reality seemed to be nonsense. The usual paperwork after hell? Are you kidding me?!

Morally, he was destroyed. His psyche was severely damaged. Wesker from the "torture room" was locked in a cell that looked like a combination of a room and a laboratory. For fear of being put back on the operating table again, he dutifully began to work and develop various things that BSAA would use in the future. But it wasn't life either. Weakened body, lack of abilities... he wanted to die, but he couldn't afford it, because he was practically immortal. Although, even if he used a weapon that stops regeneration on himself... he still wouldn't kill himself.

«Not here»

«Not like this»

At times he thought he was balancing on the fine line between normalcy and insanity. He saw people at best once every two weeks who came to check on his work and were not at all talkative. Wesker had always been convinced he didn't need company, but 12 years without socializing had made him question his beliefs.

Once a month he was provided with food, and then carelessly, because he didn't need food. His body, experiencing hunger, could devour itself and regenerate immediately.

The only reason he was given a room and released from the operating table was because the organization wanted to see what he could offer them. Of course, they didn't stop studying his unusual body and conducting experiments, but Wesker was already in charge of the process himself. Independently amputated his limbs and so on. Only closer to 2019 were these experiments stopped, because they had extracted all possible benefits from his body.

Wesker remotely, horrified, realized that thanks to his body he would live much longer than the average person, if not forever. Which led him to believe that he would be kept in this cage for centuries. BSAA would close, others would take their place, find him, torture him again. And so on in a circle, for all eternity, as long as human society and greed existed. This had to end... but how? A plan was needed, a complex one that could not be unraveled.

His life and existence was a BSAA mystery from 2009-2021. For 12 long years he was not allowed out of the walls of this cell.

Of course he wanted to escape, he had many unrealistic thoughts in his head about it. He was also interested in meeting Chris, aged, changed. To see his reaction, genuine shock rather than the anger he'd reacted to Wesker's earlier 'resurrections'. Is Chris even still alive today? What year is it now?

But this life couldn't go on forever, the BSAA was cracking at the seams. In 2021 it was revealed that they were using B.O.W. soldiers, something Chris couldn't ignore. So he headed over to European headquarters to deal with it - right where his nemesis was located, a complete headache. Chris couldn't accept that his organization, which was fighting biological weapons, would use them. It didn't fit in his head. He had long ago stopped trusting the BSAA, but this was the last straw.

Arriving there, Chris did not expect to meet someone in the basement laboratories whom he had buried a long time ago.

What was he going to do with him? Shoot him in the head without any thought? That would have been logical and in Redfield's character, but over the years he'd stopped being a complete hothead, learned to think first and then act. Gained a little equanimity.

It will turn out that it was Wesker who was involved in the creation of the B.O.W. in BSAA. Especially since these soldiers are improved clones of Chris himself. Who else could have come up with such an idea? Only to a man who thought Chris was "one of his best men".

For the past 6 years, Wesker has been forced to be an advisor to BSAA, sharing all the knowledge and ideas. He might have been able to pull it all off, if only to get back at that organization, turning Chris' anger on it, and turning his attention to himself at the same time. After all, only this "one of his best men" was the only one who could save him. Yes, Wesker was pathetic. He felt he wasn't even worthy of his former name, being so pathetic as to enlist the help of his enemy. But it was the only option. There was no more talk of pride.

However, it didn't matter now, Chris had come here to punish the founders, so their prisoner, their chief counselor, might prove to be the best informant. And an ally.

Natural intuition made Chris believe his former enemy, the biggest manipulator of them all. As if he was definitely not lying now, because he was in such a big asshole that he couldn't let his words sound unconvincing. Earlier, Chris would have easily recognized his lies, but not now. Right now, completely honest and dull eyes were looking at him from beneath translucent glasses. So damn pitiful that Chris automatically assumed the role of the hero rescuing the damsel in distress.

Chris was quickly combine the information together in his head: the situation, the physique, the setting... His opponent had been held hostage by his own ambition, it couldn't help but bring a smile to Redfield's face. But he hid it in his thoughts, because he deemed it inappropriate once he read Wesker's imprisonment papers. Chris had some free time to devote to the situation.

He read about what had been done to Wesker. About all the torture. And Redfield clutched his head, when he got to the description of his ammunition that he'd used against Mold a couple years ago. He was terrified that this weapon had been created in such a gruesome way... through the suffering of his enemy, who, even considering all his guilt, didn't deserve all this. Chris felt that Wesker should have died and rid the world of himself rather than suffer endlessly. Even for him, he thought it was inhumane.

The first thing Wesker said to Chris was: - Now you've taken on the role of captain of the «alpha» too. This jabbed Chris slightly, but he noticed how the hostage said it without malice. Redfield involuntarily remembered 1998, the mansion, the betrayal, the deaths of the Alpha and Bravo group...

The compartment Wesker was in was to him both an office and a laboratory, and a room. A kind of prison, which he could not leave on his own because of his weak physical condition. He was weakened by the daily injections putting his viruses inside his body to sleep.

Releasing him and examining him at arm's length, Chris made sure that in the state Wesker was in now, he posed no danger, just an ordinary disgust. He resembled only a pale copy of his former self.

The BSAA operative dragged him carelessly behind him like some sack of garbage, concerned only with keeping the information in his head intact. But in his mind Chris still held images of what the BSAA bastards were doing here to Wesker. He didn't want to feel sorry for him, but he couldn't control it, Redfield had never been heartless. Initially he had only cared about information, but it wasn't long before he didn't even notice how protective he had become of him. As if a friend, which in truth, he never was. His captive's behavior was different from what Chris remembered. It was different, like a throwback to the past. Perhaps 12 years of imprisonment had had that effect on him.

He was docile, which wasn't surprising, since Wesker had been treated like an object by the organization, and the operating table had been a good teaching moment. Chris couldn't believe that after so many years of hell his former enemy's mind was still intact, that he hadn't lost his mind and was capable of dialog.

Time passed unnoticed during the proceedings with the BSAA about B.O.W., eventually the organization was destroyed and all its equipment, along with Chris's squad, transferred to TerraSave.

Chris during all of this had to sign Wesker into the Hound Wolf Squad as either a prisoner or an advisor. To keep him from getting shut down again, that was the deal. He helps them, they help him. Over time, he was getting back to normal. The food and good company had done their job.

However, Chris didn't know that his new ally hadn't lost all of his strength, and the ones he had were sleeping under the influence of the medicament. But time passed, the medicament slowly stopped working without new doses, and Wesker understood it perfectly well. And felt it. It didn't affect his appearance, so he could play his role for as long as he wanted. But was it a role? Sure he was portraying a courtesy that annoyed Chris to the point of nausea, but it was partially sincere. Having broken with his past at the fault of the BSAA, Wesker could only hope to find a new purpose. After all, as Spencer had raised him, there is no life without purpose.

Therefore, was it so necessary for him to betray Hound Wolf Squad? Would it be beneficial to him? Chris is a strong point. He has no doubt that if he kills Redfield - another will take his place, and will definitely get him into the basement wheel of samsara. So Wesker had no grand plans yet. After all, any of them would be doomed to failure as long as there was anyone in the world capable of resisting.

But Chris risked to give him a goal, which, however, called impossible - to become the best version of himself. To help the Hound Wolf Squad, to work with TerraSave, to use his knowledge for something other than endless failed experiments. Stop being Spencer's failed experiment. The only option Chris would give him a chance at.

Those words stuck in Wesker's head for a long time. Mentioning the old man was like a low blow. Chris knew where it hurt the most.

It had been several years since Wesker had joined Redfield's team. All that time he'd been hiding his abilities so as not to lose the fragile trust in his person. But the truth couldn't help but surface one day....

On one of the missions connected with B.O.W., the blade of an exploding helicopter blew off Wesker's head, and then another piece of debris cut his body in half.

But he didn't die.

Chris was enraged. With resentment, he felt cheated. What else could he have expected?

First, the black mass connected the body, restoring functionality to it, and then this silent carcass picked up the head. It was slow. It looked helpless and creepy. Chris's squad was on edge, but he ordered to wait. The black substance emerged from the base of the neck and attached the head to itself, then the calm expression on the reanimated head changed to horror. Was he in unbearable pain from the newly received oxygen? Or from the fusion of tendons?

When Wesker recovered, he couldn't at first think of a response to Chris' "explain yourself!"

Everyone's fragile trust collapsed, but not Redfield's, for he knew that if his former adversary had wanted to betray him, he would have betrayed him long ago, he wouldn't have let himself be so ridiculously exposed. Especially after all the torture he'd endured. Chris could understand why Wesker was hiding his powers. Redfield had stepped on the same rake of trust again, convincing himself that he had everything under control.

Wesker, ever since the prototype had merged with Uroboros in his body, had acquired a number of flaws, chief among them an unbearable sensitivity to pain. The only time he could not feel pain was when he was BSAA injected with force restraining drugs. But without them, all the disadvantages came out.

Whereas before he could recover from any wound without feeling anything but minor damage, now the pain was so obvious that every regeneration was accompanied by agony. Especially if it was a burn, for heat is a major weakness for Uroboros. The healing places on his body, after that helicopter situation, hurt like hell.

He was closer to human now than he had been before, and Chris seemed to realize that. That was why he hadn't killed him a second time, but had accepted him back into his squad. It was not only a gesture of goodwill, but also a precaution, a way to keep a dangerous object as close to him as possible so he wouldn't do anything.

How long will they have to cut off the heads of hydra in the face of the creators of bioweapons?

- Why do you trust me, Chris?

- I still believe that anyone can become the best version of themselves. We should prioritize fighting for the future to give someone a quiet life that you and I have been robbed of. I know about Project W. Together we can stop new organizations and prevent many tragedies like this from happening again. And you can help us, Wesker. BSAA took away your choice, but I'm giving it to you now.

Wesker at first couldn't find the words to respond, but after a moment he barely audibly whispered: "Thank you."

From a man who never thanked anyone, Chris was shocked to hear that. And he was proud of him. Had he forgiven him? No, his deeds were unforgivable. But Chris wasn't the kind of man who would turn his back on his one chance to make things right, to make things right on Earth, to save someone's life. In this truce, he sees a future that's bright for everyone.

[scarletttries]

What One Piece Characters Are Like In A Relationship...(Part Two)

Request: "Greetings, could I ask for headcanons of what Buggy the Clown and Dracule Mihawk are like in a relationship?"

Pairings: Buggy x Reader, Mihawk x Reader, Shanks x Reader

Part One (The Straw Hats) here / One Piece Masterlist

Buggy the Clown:

- It's impossible to overestimate the sheer vulnerability it took for Captain Buggy to speak genuinely and honestly when he finally confessed his feelings for you. A man who's spent so much of his life hidden behind a painted facade and a wicked smile, he tried to fight his truth for so long, forcing himself to treat you like just another pirate on his ship when there's nothing you could do that wouldn't stand out to him. The sincerity with which you speak to him, the way you don't gawk at his appearance, the fact that you never engage in the mutinous whispers of those around you. It wasn't long until you became his most called upon ally on the ship, through genuine appreciation for your insights but also his intense need to have his eyes on you at all times.

- With his feelings out in the open, Buggy is still conflicted in the way he showers his affections upon you. Behind closed doors the man is your personal jester, cracking jokes and using his gifts to keep you smiling and entertained constantly. Honestly that man would do anything to keep you looking at him, the warmth of your gaze enough to undo decades of cruelty and ridicule.

- Around the crew though, your captain likes to keep his adoration discrete. There are a lot of people out there that would love to have something they could use against him, and he knows deep down he'd surrender everything he's ever worked for if it stopped a single hair on your head being harmed. So despite how Buggy feels like he is bursting at the seams with joy every time he sees you, he insists on keeping things a secret for as long as the two of you can, lasting on longing looks and subtle contact for the price of your safety.

- That does add a certain desperation to the clown's behaviour towards you though, not that you mind. The moment you close a door he'll be on with you in a flash, all hungry lips and pressing his chest flush with yours to bathe in your warmth while he still can. He needs you overwhelming all of his senses, to fill his heart back up before he has to face the day without you again. Sometimes when he knows you'll be apart for a while, he'll tell the crew he's lost a hand somewhere on the ship so he can leave one tucked securely in your pocket, subtly interlacing his fingers with yours whenever the day gets to be too much; the powers he once feared made him a devil, now giving him the chance to stay by an angel's side forevermore.

Dracule Mihawk:

- A life as the world's greatest swordsman can be a lonely one. Going wherever he's paid to go. Never putting down roots. Knowing that one day he might just find someone desperate enough for his title to kill for it. Mihawk had accepted this life with a certain pride, until he found something else he wanted to be the best at.

- Another night in another island bar had his path crossing with yours, the briefest of exchanges leaving an aching hole in his chest like he'd never experienced before. It was like your smile sent a spark his way that had his whole body going up in smoke, a fire lit inside him that he had only felt once before; for his pursuit of swordsmanship. He knew nothing would quell that desire except giving in fully to the devotion.

- Dracule is extremely attentive to your every whim. He's never really been tied down before he enjoys the grounding that comes from having someone else to influence each of his days. Nothing fulfils him like making one of your wishes come true, his dedication to your partnership unwavering no matter what the world throws at you both.

- He would take enormous pride in teaching you a few of his sword-fighting moves, framing the sessions as just a way to share in his two favourite things (swords and you), but in the back of his mind also very conscious that a time may come when you need to defend yourself from his enemies. Naturally he'll find a way throw your practice fights so the two of you end up on the floor together, his sword cast aside as he exclaims that you are the only person in all the seas that has ever disarmed him so. Don't be expecting to leave that floor for a while once he has you in his grips.

Shanks:

- When you work in a popular port town you see a lot of pirates come and go. So it's pretty noticeable when a certain captain seems to do all his supply runs in your specific shop. Shanks is not at all subtle that he's continually coming to town for you, your first conversation enough for him to reveal that you might be the only person he's ever met that could convince him to give up the pirate life and settle down.

- You don't ask him to do that, instead the two of you settle for frequently being apart, but relishing in every second you get to spend together when you can. Every moment that Shanks is in your life is filled with fun, whether he's just dancing with you in your lovely little home, or convincing you to come with him on this next adventure, heading to a beautiful island where for once he's confident there's no risk of danger to you.

- When you have to be apart, Shanks will call you late in the night, narrating the view from his perch on the figurehead of his ship. He'll describe every detail of the stars glistening on the waves until the peachy rays of the sun trickle across the horizon, all while knowing the far superior view is wherever you are. He'll never reveal the true danger of his journeys to you, instead giving you joyful reimaginations of the troubles he's faced that day. You can tell when he's had a hard week from the pain in his voice though, so you take the chance to regale him with the softness of your peaceful day, recounting your every step and listening to his breathing slow as a weight lifts off his chest. He tells you how one day he can't wait to dock his ship one final time and fall in step with the life you've built, never having to hear your voice from so far away again.

- He lets that hope carry him through the most tempestuous nights at sea, through all the near misses at the hands of his enemies, through every day spent hiding from a bounty hunter and aching to hear your voice again. He finds himself picturing the two of you raising a family, a tiny crew of your own that will always unite you, the ultimate adventure Shanks can imagine, and one he never thought he'd long for until he thought about living it hand in hand with you.

One piece requests still open!

[mindyourstars]

JE TE LAISSERAI DES MOTS (SEBASTIAN SALLOW X FEM!READER)

Takes place after reader's 5th year. Spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy mentioned! Includes fluff. Lots of fluff. Word Count: 2.3K ****************************************************

            You had spent another day attending classes in Hogwarts with your mind only half paying attention to each lesson. It was relatively hard to focus when your closest and dearest friend, Sebastian Sallow, kept slipping you notes in classes with small little inside jokes and teasing remarks. It had been something that happened all day! Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and now Potions class. Each note you received was Sebastian’s attempt to make you smile. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved when you smiled. Everyone with eyes could see it, except you. 

            You saw a hand slide a small piece of parchment that was folded over two or three times. You discreetly unfolded it, reading the message in Sebastian’s familiar messy scrawl. 

Professor Sharp is looking rather vexed at Garreth’s latest concoction. I wonder how long until he blows something else to bits. 

            You had to shoot Sebastian a warning look as your lips twitched at the corners to reveal a subtle smile. It was no secret that Garreth was trying to create… something. He had recruited you to assist him quite a few times, but to no avail. You were going to reply when at the table over you heard loud bubbling followed by an even louder ‘BANG’. It would have surprised everyone in the course, but it had happened so many times the bang was followed by a collective groan. Everyone knowingly glanced at Garreth who was sheepishly standing in front of his newest failed experiment. 

            Garreth’s mouth opened in an attempt to explain, but he was interrupted by the smoke that began to encapsulate the class, causing Professor Sharp to run his hands over his already tired expression. 

            “I suppose it goes without saying that there will be quite a hefty number of points taken from Gryffindor.” His tone was as pointed as his gaze, causing Sebastian to glance at you with a teasing smirk. This in return caused you to giggle. 

            “Finding something funny, Miss (L/N)?” Your smile quickly melted into a cool expression as you shook your head no.

            “No professor Sharp, I sincerely apologize.” You spoke as calmly as you could and watched as the professor’s gaze lingered with yours for a moment before he shrugged. 

            “Let this be a warning to this whole class that we must take this course seriously! Class dismissed.” 

            You gathered your things and made way to the exit, waiting outside of the doorway against the wall for Sebastian to join you. After quite a bit of students shoveled out, Sebastian along with Ominis joined you by the wall. 

            “I have a sneaking suspicion that the reason you began to laugh was due to Sebastian.” Ominis uttered with no hesitation, his mouth turned up into a teasing smirk. 

            “Well, you DO know that I am quite the charmer, Ominis. It’s a talent not many possess.” He replied with a confident demeanor and a waggle of his brows. 

            You giggled again, hugging your potions textbook tightly against your chest as the three of you collectively began to walk the corridors back to the Slytherin common room. 

            “It was a pity laugh.” You teased, standing between the two boys who easily had their height over you. “I will say I am very much enjoying the weekly explosion that cuts class short.” 

            Sebastian nodded in agreement along with Ominis as the three of you turned another corner towards the moving staircases. 

            “It’s become a lovely little tradition.” Sebastian agreed with a chuckle causing you to smile at the sound. 

            Sebastian and you had been very close since you arrived at Hogwarts last year. He had gone through quite a lot since everything that happened between his sister Anne and his uncle Solomon. Ominis struggled to forgive Sebastian as well, but together the three of you slowly moved on with each passing day. 

            “Well, I have to go work on some homework for Divination, so the two of you do not get into too much trouble.” Ominis’ head turned in Sebastian’s direction for just a moment, causing Sebastian’s smile to falter ever so slightly. 

            Before Sebastian could say anything in response, you cut in with a chipper tone.

            “Ominis! You know that he’s in great hands with me.” You said with a bright grin, your tone matching the demeanor. 

            As a result, you could see Ominis’ shoulders relax. 

            “Alright, I will speak with you both later.” The Gaunt boy stated with a nod before he began to trudge down towards the common room. 

            You waited a beat before turning to Sebastian, looking up at him since he had grown a bit taller over the break between fifth and sixth year. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his familiar expression bracing his face. Sebastian did his best to try and be his old self, but with the loss of Anne a bit of him always lacked a spark that you used to remember. The boy who challenged you in Defense Against the Dark Arts had very much built a cautious air around him, but with you? He attempted extra to make sure that the two of you remained comfortable.

            In that moment, Sebastian began to tap his fingers while they remained crossed with his gaze keeping firm on you. It caused you to straighten your posture as you questioned what was crossing the Sallow boy’s mind. 

            “Why are you staring at me that way?” You asked with a nervous chuckle escaping your blush lips. 

            Sebastian grinned slightly and shook his head as he shrugged his shoulders. 

            “I was just thinking about how you and I haven’t practiced for crossed wands in the Undercroft in quite some time. We have a free afternoon… Care to join me?” He asked with a teasing grin. 

            The invite honestly surprised you. Sebastian avoided Crossed Wands for most of your sixth year. His tenacity to win seemed to scare him ever since the situation with his Uncle Solomon. His invite made you smile even brighter than before. It excited you that Sebastian was opening himself up to a hobby he used to once adore. 

            “Of course, Sebastian! I am very ready to absolutely wipe the floor with you.” You teased, shoving him playfully. 

            He feigned shock at your shove and shoved you back gently. It brought him more comfort in seeing the joy that came from your reaction. Sebastian had been tight-lipped about how he had been feeling with everything happening, but he wanted to love magic again. Magic didn’t have to be so dark. Ominis constantly reminded him of that. 

            “I would love to see you try, (Y/N).” He chuckled, but before he could continue to speak you began to rush down the hall towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, your laughter echoing through the halls like a sweet melody. 

            “Race you there!” You called back behind you, your eyes now full of delight.

            Sebastian didn’t hesitate as he began to swerve between students to attempt to catch up with you. Both of you felt your boots push roughly against the Hogwarts floors as you both playfully sabotaged each other to victory. After quite some time, you were the one to reach the Undercroft entrance, causing Sebastian to breathlessly come to a halt and shake his head. 

            “That is… unfair. You… cheated.” He told you, but you shrugged your shoulders as your own chest heaved in attempt to catch your breath. 

            “I simply am better than you!” You teased back, opening the entrance to the Undercroft as the two of you sauntered inside. 

            “Oh hush.” He quipped in return, removing his wand from the inside of his robe. “You definitely won’t win in our battle.” He teased, taking his place 10 paces from you. 

            “Is that a challenge, Sallow?” You scoffed, taking your own wand in your hands, your eyebrows raising in peaked curiosity. You were quite fond of the challenge. It was nice to have a bit of the old Sebastian fully realized in front of you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all an act. So, you made a mental note to go a bit easy on him at first. 

            “Expelliarmus.” He stated as your wand flew from your hand. You gasped at the immediate start and Sebastian smirked sinisterly at you. “It’s very much a challenge, (L/N).” He teased, grabbing your wand and moving to hand it back to you. 

            You grabbed it in your hands quickly and the two of you resumed in your places. With a beat of silence, the room exploded in different swirls of magic surrounding the two of you. Spells were being yelled as the two of you were being flung and dragged towards one another. 

            “Accio!” Sebastian yelled as you were thrusted forward towards him, his grin prominent on his face as he picked your wand from your hand and shrugged. 

            “Guess I win, (Y/N). Not bad for a hiatus.” He stated, causing you to smile and nod in response. 

            “Not bad Sebastian, not bad.” You said as you tried to grab your wand from him, but he raised his hand above his head with a tight grip to make it a challenge for you to grab it. 

            “Uh-uh! Not so easy.” He teased which caused you to scoff. You raised your hands to try and grab your wand, but he maneuvered it around, so it was always just out of your reach. 

            You grumbled and began to hp up to try and grab it, but after your third hop you landed incorrectly and the two of you came tumbling down. The way you landed, both wands had been flung across the stone floor with small clatter sounds, and you were on top of Sebastian as he had broken your fall. The two of you burst out into laughs, but once your gazes met something… happened. You felt heat rise to your face as a blush began to make itself present ad Sebastian had the same thing happen. His ears began to turn a deep scarlet as his freckled cheeks began to be covered by the blush that was taking over his whole face. 

            You coughed to break the tension and moved to sit beside him on the stone ground. Sebastian clambered himself up using his elbows to also sit up beside you. You glanced over at him and smiled, laying your head on his shoulder. 

            “Sebastian?” You asked, your voice going from the teasing challenging tone to a much softer one.

            “Yes, (Y/N)?” He asked, his brown eyes moving to look at you on his shoulder. He was attempting to play it off, but his confidence faltered with each touch you gave him. 

            “I’m glad you did this. I’m glad you’re having fun with magic again.” You admitted, moving your head on his shoulder to meet his gaze. 

            Your faces were awfully close to one another. You could clearly smell the intoxicating scent of oak emanating from Sebastian’s robe. It was an intoxicating aroma. Sebastian’s eyes softened at your admission. He released an exhale, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. 

            “I couldn’t have done it without you… and Ominis.” He stated, causing a soft giggle to escape your lips. “I almost lost myself last year. I didn’t heed you or Ominis’ warnings and as a result I did something that I will live with the rest of my life.” He admitted, causing you to frown. 

            It wasn’t the greatest memory. Sebastian’s anger during that period of your friendship was concerning. His drive to save Anne had consumed him to a deadly degree. He began to grow desperate, and it was the type of desperation that drove a person mad. 

            “But you can get through it. You have your friends.” You comforted, but the word ‘friends’ caused a shocking reaction from Sebastian. 

            What you assumed would bring him comfort, brought a frown to his face. You pulled yourself from Sebastian’s grasp and glanced at him with concern. 

            “What did I say?” You asked, causing Sebastian to shake his head. 

            “Well... since we’re on the topic of confessions.” He began, his eyes darting towards the stone to avoid looking at you. 

            It caused you to worry. Did Sebastian not want to be your friend any further? Had something happened? You placed a hand on his cheek to make him look at you. 

            “Sebastian. What’s wrong? You could tell me.” You assured, his gaze meeting yours. 

            Before you could say something else, his lips crashed into yours. Your hand remained on his soft cheek, and there was no hesitation in your reciprocation. His lips were soft and tasted of a sweet honey, causing your mind to go dizzy. When he pulled away, you let out a chuckle.

            “Oh.” You said, your face turned into a bright smile. 

            “Oh? That’s all you have to say?” He exclaimed in shock. “You’re so hard to decipher, (Y/N), I just bloody kissed you.” He added. 

            “Sebastian, you’re being foolish.” You said in a kind tone. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?” You asked. 

            It took a moment, maybe even two, for Sebastian to piece together what happened; but once he understood his shoulders relaxed. He suddenly went from a look of confusion to a sheer look of glee. This caused you to grin back and kiss him once more. He paused the kiss and reached into his robe. 

            “What’s wrong?” You asked further, your body practically shaking with content. 

            “You know how I was writing you notes all day?” He asked, causing you to nod in response. “Well… this was the first one I wrote. I was too scared to pass it along.” 

            You grabbed the parchment, causing you to raise a brow as you unfolded it once. Then twice. Then a third time. Finally, Sebastian’s messy scrawl revealed itself. The words caused your smile to grow even wider (if that was even possible). 

Is it possible that I could be more in love with you?

            This caused you to bring the parchment to your chest before leaning your head on him once more. 

            “I think I’m going to love it this year.” You murmured. 

            “Yes,” He replied, his head resting on yours. “Me too.”