#old was ridiculous hahaha

[13eyond13]

the films are called unbreakable, split and glass, and they try to mimick a comic style, in case you want to watch the others. and i agree with you on how this director is a hit or miss, the sixth sense was amazing but old was terrible and it fell apart the more you thought about it

Thank you! Yeah, like I appreciate him and he's fun and unique, but definitely has made some stinkers and some hits

[solradguy]

Some day ASW is going to release a piece of Guilty Gear media that REALLY goes into depth on Gears/Gear cells and I'm gonna translate it in record time. I NEED to know, Daisuke, the secrets of your interdimensional beasts

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

Yet Another Thing I need To Happen If There's A Season 16

-Sam to learn that he's a giant, like, species-wise he Is A Giant (folkloric/larger plot-thread reasons, tldr Cain Stuff)

-Sam to meet other giants

-Sam to learn that he is, in fact, short.

[katyspersonal]

(Vent)

I find myself so conflicted. There are just... so many things I want to talk about. I want to talk about how infuriating it is that “feminists” fought so hard to claim that all women deserve respect - only to end up demonizing female beauty and fit-ness as a concept for being “cishet male bait”, or hate feminine characters in general unless they can get indulgence for being lesbians or trans women. How annoying it is that woke clout chasers run around slapping ‘comphet’ and ‘lesbophobia’ stickers on everything when people are righteously unhappy with bi erasure - would those people be content if someone “erased” a lesbian character saying she was just bi all along but convinced herself to be a lesbian out of hating men? BOTH can play this game, lil’ shit. How people come and have a go like ‘but we all are fighting the SAME battle against CIS WHITE MEN’ that makes me feel cringe for being a woman and thus dragged into this “opression” game against my will, I want to wash my gender away like dirt to not be associated with this madness - but when I step away too far I inevitably find legitimate incels that hate women like feminists hate men. When did I crossed the line where chased down stray dogs ended and true wolves started? Where can I hide?

But it is certainly not in my head. And I want to NOT want to talk about any of this, I just wonder - did it really have to get like this? Becoming so tangled with internet and fandoms? Well... I’ve ALWAYS been just an autistic kid more interested in fiction than reality, so maybe my fate is just written by how my brain is built, heh. But there is just boiling anger that I sometimes struggle to contain, it ends up feeling like I am a dragon that simply tried to make a deep sigh - and bam, accidentally everything around got ignited. After this I feel like I did something wrong - despite ‘ranting about things you dislike’ is such a relevant thing that some Youtubers make it their BRAND and get hella followers! But I just feel like now everything ignites, and I should extinguish the coals with memes, reblogged pretty arts, jokes and ‘happy thoughts’. But ‘touch the grass’ or not, but the frustration is always here somewhere, like a permanently smoking volcano. I know rants are okay, but it always feels like after I only BARELY open up about my perpetual annoyance - people already get scared. So what would they think of me if I lost ALL inhibitors and just got it ALL out?

I just want to believe that out there there is a hater (affectionate) so furious that I am no match to them, and me ranting to them will feel like barely a complaint, let alone rant. And it will feel greeeeeeat for a while, because this anger will be out of my mind.

[maowives]

The things "parents" will do to children out of spite, or amusement, or exhaustion, or just plain-old not seeing children as human beings is genuinely sickening. like, just so much genuinely incomprehensible cruelty being basically intrinsic to the nuclear family structure. and before you go like "hahaha OP this is so chuuni you sound like a child going fuck you dad" consider that this sentiment is also rooted in understanding that a child is someone not worthy of respect or autonomy who has no access to the capacity to legitimately criticize how they are being treated, and in fact should be ridiculed for taking issue with how they are "parented."

also someone once said to me "OP i get your point but you sound like a cartoon villain when you say things like 'we can destroy the family'." and to that point i would say: also consider that the reason things like this are construed as Cartoonish Comic Evil is because the ideological infrastructure of the Bourgeois Nuclear Family Paradigm is designed to make you dismiss criticism of The Family out of hand. if you defend The Sanctity Of The Family there is in essence no difference between you and your average US Republican.

Moreover, The Family Must Be Destroyed.

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

——————————————————————

Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

——————————————————————

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[lilith-vodkaaunt-of-demons]

In an unmarked laboratory in North Eastern Kansas.

Breathing heavily, Cass stood up and took a look at her handy work, swiping copper curls away from her eyes. It had taken some effort, creativity, and lots and lots of cursing, but the room was finally finished. Mere months ago it had been a vague image of a dream of an idea, but now it was finally complete. Her friends and colleagues all laughed at her. Her parents had even gone back on their word to fund her Graduate School, telling her they had agreed to fund her schooling for a career, not a dead end obsession. But look at her now! In a laboratory! With real equipment! And funding! It didn't matter that she'd never heard of the government department those two bozos in their ridiculous white monkey suits claimed to be from, they'd handed her a functionally bottomless grant, all the equipment and time she needed, and told her only one thing.

"Report everything to us. No matter how miniscule you think it is, no matter how insignificant. If your coffee tastes different after an experiment, report it." What a bunch of weirdos.

"Ha...haha...hahaha hahaha! Finally! Now that the room is finished, all I need to do is start the process!" Cass crowed gleefully, giddy with excitement and anticipation. She once again looked at her work. She had to admit...it looked like the room of a person suffering from unmedicated schizophrenia. In the center of the 15x15 room was a circle, about 4 feet in diameter, inside the circle were symbols, sigils, and diagrams from Alchemy to the Zodiac. Just outside that circle was a ring of solidified salt, pressed into an impression on the floor. Spreading out from that across the floor, up the walls, and even on the ceilings were words in every language from Aztec to Sumerian, and religious iconography from every religion from Christianity to Zunism.

Cass had spent years preparing for this. Using every cent, every favor, every resource and scrap of goodwill she could find in preparation for this. She was finally going to prove to everyone that she wasn't some obsessed lunatic. She was going to prove the existence of Higher Beings. And to do it, she was going to summon a demon. Now all she had to do was start the process.

It was easy. She stepped up to the center of the circle. The focal point of the entire array of binding spells, prays, and words of power she'd inscribed in every surface of the room save for this cirlce, the one clean spot. She pulled out a scalpel and sliced the inside of her forearm, letting the blood bead up, then drip down and pool on the floor. She'd never understood the idea of cutting your hand. You used those. This was much easier to take care of, and you still had the use of both hands. After a few moments of letting the blood collect, Cass wrapped her arm in a towel, pressing down to make the bleeding slow, and stepped back out of the salt circle.

She briefly left the room, going to the first aid kit she left just outside the door to see to the minor laceration. After all, she didn't want dripping blood to ruin her sigils and protection charms. Once the bleed stopped, she returned to the room, a notebook in hand. She opened the notebook and began to chant.

400 miles away, at the Kent's Farm...

A young man, not dissimilar to Clark Kent when he was younger, was helping Pa Kent fix up the old tractor while Ma Kent tended to the animals. It seemed the pair had figured out what was wrong with it, but it was in a particularly hard to reach place.

"Sounds like we're gonna need to pull the whole engine out to fix this." Pa Kent said, a bit of disappointment in his voice, "That's gonna be pricey. Might have to wait a while." He mumbled to himself, one hand rubbing his jaw, leaving a trail of oil along his face, "Gonna be tough getting the crop in without ol' Bessie."

"Naaaah, don't worry about a thing. I can patch her up well enough to get the harvest in, then we can take out the engine over the winter." Danny said, his hand turning opaque. He then slid his hand through the chassi of the tractor, "Hold on," He continued, his face suddenly turned similarly opaque, "Better see what I'm doing here." He said as he shoved his face into the chassi of the tractor as well, "Yup! We were right! Duct busted. I can patch it up nicely, should last until the harvest is brought in!" He called from inside the tractor.

Pa Kent shook his head and chuckled, "Even with everything Clark did, I don't think I'll ever get use to that. Go ahead and patch her up. Then we can head in for lunch before tackling the field." He said, giving Danny a pat on the back. Suddenly a bright green glow emenates from the inside of the tractor before Danny pulled his head and hand back out.

"Let it cool, and it should be good an' patched." He said proudly, soot and oil covering his entire face and one hand.

"You uh, got somethin' on your face, Danny."

"Oh? Where?"

"Uh. there." Pa Kent said, pointing to the entirety of Danny's face before tossing him a rag, and turning to head into the house. Danny began to wipe his face off, then started coughing a bit, "Yeah, that oil can taste somethin' awful if it gets in your mouth." Pa said, thinking Danny had just tasted some of the oil, but Danny kept coughing, and the coughing got worse until Pa turned around to see Danny on his knees, one hand over his mouth, another around his throat like he was choking. Black frost and steam poured from Danny's mouth like he'd just run a mile on a freezing December morning, but it was the middle of the day in early September, nearly 90 degrees out in an open field. Pa ran over to Danny, and knelt down in front of him, "You okay, boy?" He asked, worry plain on his face.

Danny shook his head and gasped, "Something!...Big!...Coming!" Was all he could get out before, in a flash of light, he'd transformed into his alter-ego, Danny Phantom, and in a streak of green, blasted off into the sky, soon followed by the telltale boom of super sonic flight.

Danny was already about a mile above the ground, still coughing up what he could only describe as frost mixed with soot and rotten eggs. It was like his Ghost Sense had gone into overdrive, and happened to run through a Coal Mine and a Landfill on it's way out. Even Pariah Dark hadn't made his Ghost Sense react like that, especially not at this distance. Whatever it was, he needed to get there yesterday, because it, whatever it was, was absolutely massive and even from there, Danny could feel the hostility radiating from it. Bad News didn't even begin to cover whatever this thing was.

Meanwhile, back at the Laboratory...

Cassi began chanting the invocation she'd pieced together. It had been like figuring out a puzzles who's pieces had been hidden all over the world. Words from disparate languages that fit together to make an ancient call to those Outside. But Cass had managed to find the words and put them together. She hoped she'd put them together in the correct order, otherwise who knew what she was calling out to.

At first, it didn't seem to be working. No crack in the ground or air appeared. No red skinned, horned imp appeared in a puff of crimson smoke. The lights didn't even flicker as she read the incantation. Cass was about to stop when she saw a ripple run across the surface of the pool of her blood in the center of the inner circle. First a small ripple, like a drop of water hitting the surface of a puddle. Cass continued chanting. Then another ripple, from left to right, like something skimming the surface. Cass continued chanting. Then it seemed to stop.

Cass chanted for a minute or two, spurred on by the unusual behavior of the blood. Right as her throat was beginning to ache, a hand burst through the surface of the blood, pale skin stained red and rivulets of blood ran down the arm that followed. The hand gripped the edge of the pool of blood like it was much deeper than it could possibly be. Then another hand burst forth, also followed by a pale arm.

Cass stopped chanting, what she had called had obviously already broken through, and was now simply pulling itself out. She watched in fascination that slowly mixed with a bit of fear as she realized that the being that was pulling itself out of a pool of her blood looked exactly like her, save for it's eyes, with black sclera and yellow iris. Cass watched with matched Fascination and Fear as the being continued to pull itself from the pool, and she realized that the more of the doppleganger that was out of the blood, the less blood there appeared to be.

Cass also noticed, with some surprise, that while she had initially the creature to be naked, it (she?) was in facted, clothed. She wore a strapless, low-cut black ball gown that clung to her (Cass's?) body in all the right places to accentuate her feminine form in ways Cass rarely did.

Once the woman (demon?) had completely pulled itself through, and the puddle of blood completely disappeared, she stood up, smiling at Cass in what she assumed was it's purposefully unnerving way. She had to admit, this is not what she had expected. In truth, she hadn't really known what to expect, but this wasn't it. She had thought there might be a chance that whatever she summoned might try to imitate her form, but in a more threatening manner. Boils, pustules, sores, and lacerations, things to make her terrified, or perhaps a more perfect version of herself, with the things she considered defects or unattractive about herself washed away.

She was not prepared for a rather normal looking, though perhaps less desheveled and better dressed, version of herself. She was actually so distracted by the pure mundanity of the entity before her that she jumped and screamed when the creature spoke.

"D̷̺̉o̷͍̎ ̵̥̏y̸͔͗o̸̡̾u̵̹͠ ̶̟̀k̵͎͌n̴͙͗ȯ̶̟ẅ̴́͜ ̶͚̀w̵̭͘h̵̻͝y̶͓̌ ̵͎́p̴͍̿e̸̮͛o̵̠͝p̶̩̓l̶̡̃è̵̮ ̵͖̈́ȃ̵̳l̶̹̂w̵̞̋a̸͛ͅy̷͉͒ş̷̇ ̴̪͐s̶̥̉u̶̞̅m̵̻͑m̷̢͒ò̸̤n̵̬̏ ̸̨̈ǘ̸̳ș̷̃ ̵͙͌b̸͙͑y̵̹͆ ̴̣͐ǩ̷͎i̷͖͒l̶̺͛l̴͎͛ị̴͂n̷̞͗g̵̮̍ ̴̌͜a̷̮͠n̶͕̚ ̷̩͝a̶̧͐n̵̽͜i̴̥̽m̶͉̑a̸͓͌l̴̤̓?̶̼̂" It asked, it's voice like a thousand people speaking almost in unison, making it a bit hard to understand.

Cass, after screaming and jumping so hard she almost fell over, took a deep breath and reoriented herself, "I...What?" She asked, between the synchronicity and her being startled, she hadn't processed the question.

The creature repeated itself, this time the effect is lessened a bit, "D̷o̵ ̴y̶o̵u̶ ̶k̶n̵o̷w̸ ̷w̶h̷y̴ ̴p̵e̵o̸p̸l̵e̶ ̷a̸l̶w̵a̷y̶s̶ ̶s̶u̴m̴m̴o̶n̵ ̵u̶s̵ ̵b̵y̴ ̵k̵i̶l̶l̵i̶n̴g̷ ̶a̷n̷ ̴a̵n̴i̷m̸a̸l̸ i̵n̷s̸t̷e̵a̶d̷ ̶o̶f̸ ̶o̵f̶f̴e̵r̸i̸n̴g̵ ̸h̸u̵m̵a̸n̸ ̸b̶l̷o̴o̵d̶?̷" As it asked the question, it lightly stepped to the edge of the circle, lightly touching something unseen with one of Cass's fingers.

Cass blinked, then looked down at her notebook. She flipped through a few pages before looking back at the woman with her face, "Um...No. Why?" Cass asked. This wasn't what she was expecting at all. Something felt...off. Like maybe she'd made a mistake that she wasn't quite aware of. But whatever that may have been, she was sure she was right about the sigils, the protective charms, the binding spells. There was no way the entity could escape.

Almost as if it could read Cass's mind, it grinned, "Connection. A Goat. A Lamb. A fowl of some sort." Now the entity was speaking in Cass's voice, which only served to cause her more discomfort, "They cut it's throat, release it's....delicious life blood, and summon us. Giving us Horns. Hooves. Wings....mmmmflesh." It purred, running it's hands up and down it's, Cass's, body, "Giving us...Connection."

"Connection to here? To Earth?" Cass asked. She was having trouble following. Her brain was being sluggish for some reason. She couldn't seem to put thoughts together in her head, and the entity wasn't making any sense.

"The smarter ones leave the sacrifice dead in the circle. The less smart ones kill but leave the body out of the circle, and dead bodies are so easy to manipulate." The Entity explained, stepping over the edge of the circle, "But it's the Smartest ones that make the same mistake over and over, because you don't want money, or power, or anything like the rest of them. You just want answers." It continued as it walked up to Cass, wrapping an arm around her waist. Cass, meanwhile, felt a pang of fear jolt through her, but she couldn't quite remember why. Something about words and circles. Boundaries? "In the end, it's your pacifism, your mercy that kills you. Had you just beheaded a chicken, or disembowled some livestock, you might have lived to tell others not to seek these answers." It whispered to Cass, "But you've handed me the keys to your body, and oh, I am going to make myself right at home."

"My...blood...." Was all Cass could say. Demon, Devil, whatever it was, it was exerting some kind of anesthetic influence on her, slowing her body and her mind, but she was still able to make the connection. The sigils, the symbols, the protection charms and spells. None of them had worked because Cass had used her own blood. Whatever it was, it had bypassed them all because Cass was outside the barrier.

Not Cass giggled delightedly, "It makes it all the sweeter that you figured out what you did wrong too little too-"BOOM! Not Cass began to say, but was interrupted by the sound of something that had been moving very fast hitting a Warded Steel Wall. Slowly, as if reaching through thick mud, a white-gloved hand slid through the wall, then another, and a boot, then another. Finally, a very red, very unhappy face slid through after it.

"What in the fu-Whoa!" Danny said, his ghost form flickering, half reverting him to human, "What is up with this room? First, it acts like a non-newtonian liquid despite me being intangible, and now this? What's going WHOA!" Danny shouted, just noticing the pair inside with him. His vision flickered between two women and a woman and some kind of vile chimera beast starting to overshadow the woman.

The Not Woman smiles as she looked Danny up and down, "Well, aren't you an interes-OOF!" It started to say before getting interrupted by Danny tackling it, separating it from the woman it was trying to overshadow. "My, you're stronger than you look, Ghostling!" It cackled, "Maybe we can have some fun!" It struck out at Danny, the human fist reinforced by the power of the beast hiding behind it. It wasn't the hardest Danny had ever been hit, but it certainly wasn't a Box Ghost Punch either.

"Look Lady, I don't know what your whole deal is, but around here, we don't just overshadow people for shits and giggles. And we certainly don't let people with your kind of vibes just hang around, either!" Danny said, wrapping the beast in ecto-energy while fending off the Not Woman. Something not dissimilar to a Ghost Portal was still open on the floor, but Danny could feel from just looking at it that whatever was on the otherside was nothing like the Ghost Zone.

"Oh ho! You really are impressive!" The Not Woman growled, a grin on her face, but it was clear that she was struggling with the ecto-shield he'd wrapped around her true body, "But you don't know what you're meddling with, Daniel. Beings such as yourself are easy to influence!" She said, sucking the strange creature into her body, freeing her from the ecto-shield he'd wrapped around it. She launched herself at Danny, and opened her mouth, a vile, black sludge ejecting all over Danny's face.

"How-Eugh! Forget it, I don't even want to know how you know my name! I've had more than enough of you! Time. To. Go. Home!" Danny roared, wrapping the Not Woman in a bear hug as she continued to vomit the black sludge on him. Then he spun towards the portal, and used all of his might to slam her down into it, knocking her off of him and into the portal. Using his portal powers, he grabbed the edges of the tear, and began to force it shut.

As he's closing the portal, black hands reached through and pull him against the half-closed portal, and a screeching voice shrieked, "You and I are not finished, Child of Thanatos! Descendant of Azrael! You will seek me out soon enough!" It screeched, grabbing at Danny as he struggled to close the portal.

Danny eyes briefly flashed red and he growled back, "Enough! I don't know who you are, but go back to where you came from!" He shouted, slamming the portal shut with all his strength. The entity gone, the portal shut, Danny was suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion, his Ghost Form fully reverting back. He fell to his knees, he head swimming as the effects of the room finally began to effect him. Only then did he notice the searing pain from the left half of his face, where the Not Woman had vomited the nasty black sludge on him. Knowing what was coming next, Danny reached into his pocket and pressed the emergency button on his phone before passing out.

Somewhere...

Danny floated in a black void. It wasn't the first time he'd had a dream like this, though he couldn't rightly recall the first time he'd had one. It was actually somewhat of a relief, since most of his dreams had to do with a cavalcade of rogues from his rogues gallery. Or so he'd thought. Something was different this time. This time, it didn't feel like he was alone in the black void. He could hear movement, whispers, feel eyes on him. Something was there with him. He goes to rub his eyes, and feels scale-like skin on his face. Suddenly he's looking at his own face, except half of it isn't his, it's monsterous.

"I TOLD YOU I WASN'T FINISHED WITH YOU, GHOSTLING!" A familiar, shrill voice screeched and cackled. Danny screamed, and sat up from the hospital bed he was in, his heart, ususally much slower than normal, nearly beating out of his chest. He looked around, and quickly recognized the medical floor of the JL Watchtower. His emergency call must have gone through. He sighed with relief, and laid back in the hospital bed. He attempted to relax, but that dream continued to bug him.

Soon enough, a doctor came in, "Well, given your...unique biology, we can't say anything for certain, but now that you've stabilized, you should be fine." The doctor said, looking through some chart, "Though, there is one thing we should probably look into..."

"Hold on." Danny said, holding up a hand, "Stabilized? I passed out because of the funky stuff in the weird room, what do you mean Stabilized?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture, "Well, Daniel...when the WatchTower emergency crew found you, you seemed to be having some sort of...episode? You kept changing into a ghost and back to your human form. In fact, you were doing it the entire time you were unconscious, and only stopped shortly before you woke up." The doctor explained, "And then there's..."

"And then there's....what, doc? What's going on." Danny asked, a bit exasperated.

"It might be better for you to see it."

"See. What. Doctor." Danny ground out. The Doctor held out a mirror. At first Danny hesitated, the dream coming back to him briefly, but then he grabbed the mirror from the doctor and held it up and...nothing. He looked completely normal, black hair, blue eyes. Skin was fine, "I look fine."

"Transform, Daniel."

Danny did as he was told, and transformed, then gasped and dropped the mirror, his hands flying to his face. It wasn't the same as the nightmare, exactly, but it wasn't good, either. Starting at about the half-way point across his forehead, the skin of his forehead began to turn black and hard, pulling up until it all came together in an unmistakable black horn coming out from his left temple. The Sclera of his eye partially black, highlighting the neon green even moreso. Whatever that thing was, it had done this to him, whatever this was. And it had been right, that wasn't going to be the last time they saw each other.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Trunk or Treat with The Yandere Student Council Pt. I

Based Off the OCs in this Post

“Alright everyone let’s start talking about ideas!” 

“Uhm do you mean ideas for what to do with Halloween coming?”

“Oh no darling, we always do a Trunk or Treat kind of thing.”

“We are talking about our costumes.”

As bizarre as it sounds the college’s students look forward to the costumes of the student council

Allowed to enjoy whatever festivity that comes with their choice

For reference they share that last year they had a ‘kiss–in–the–coffin’ booth for their shared vampire costumes

“J-j-just so you know the kisses were on the cheek only!”

“I didn’t ask but okay.”

It set the precedent for this year to be just amazing if not better

“Since we have you now (Y/n) we should have something special that welcomes you in!”

“I-i-i-i think that’s a great idea.”

“I’m all for it too!”

Despite your protests, in fear of being singled out by their fans your haters they forge on

“They won’t be bothering you. Not on my watch.”

“You say that but–”

“Seriously (Y/n) believe us! We’ll make sure there won’t be any problems.”

“And if there are we will kill them.”

“What?!”

“Joking. Joking.”

They’re not

Anyway it was decided on that the council will be Ghostly Royalty

Which makes costumes really easy or so you thought 

According to Min, quite a large part of the budget went into your costumes

“Pick your jaw up (Y/n)! This is the best part! You don’t think we get this big of a budget without showing off, do you?”

“Still…it feels a bit overkill…especially when I don’t have a fan base at all.”

“Ohhh that’s what you think–ow!” 

“Roman, always such an optimistic chatterbox. Always saying things that are not true.”

Lucoa takes the role of the king naturally

Spencer is forcefully given the role of the queen

Min takes the role of the dungeon master, despite his meek character

Roman takes the role of an advisor

Gil as a duke

June as a duchess

“Wait so what am I?”

“Our dragon.”

“What?!”

“We wanted to put a spin on the old system!”

“But that isn’t really accurate…nor does it really fit the ghost royalty theme.”

“.....”

“....”

“So? We’re doing fantasy ghosts then.”

In your opinion, it's just an excuse to make your costume as ridiculous as they please

“This is an early draft of your costume.”

“What!? Wait where are the actual clothes? I’m just seeing gold necklaces and bangles.”

“...That was the idea.”

“I’m not wearing that if there aren’t actual clothes underneath there.”

“...But it will ruin the integrity of the design and disrupt the choreography and–”

“Then hide it under the gold! I’m not going to be half-naked for the entire school.”

“...I will consult the President.”

You owed him a favor after that

Saying you agreed to this as an honorary member

But when you’re not having to fight Gill on your costume designs

You are helping the others

“June…this is just a dress.”

“Right, it’s a perfect occasion to wear it. And don’t my hips feel and look great.”

Adjusting the golden belt meant to hang off his waist you try to ignore how his poses requires that he touch you in some way shape or form

“Well yeah but don’t you feel like your fans would want you in something else?”

“Oh baby! You don’t have to worry, they love this sort of thing.”

And helping with their research

“Roman I know you never seem to run out of ideas to hang out but why a medieval diner?”

“It's for research! By the way, how do you like the food? I made sure the critiques were as positive as they could get.”

“Roman.”

“Yes?”

“Why did that waitress, compliment our relationship?”

“OMG they brought another plate of bread and for free? So cool.”

“Roman!”

Or helping organize their booths

“So Spencer what are you going for?”

“A kind of dunk tank except it drops on me.”

“Oh okay….this says that you’re not actually using water but…oil?”

“Yeah Lucoa suggested I show off my scars and muscles.”

“Wait you have those?”

“Hahaha very funny but seriously give me your opinion.”

“Oh wow….yeah, I think they’ll like it…no they’ll love it.”

“Oh really? Well, thanks!”

As if he didn’t already know

But eventually as the date comes closer it comes time to focus on your booth

But it seems that as an honorary member you don’t get to have much control over your own booth

Or any decision involving your event

“Hey Min what are you building over there?”

“Oh this is the art for your exhibit. Lucoa put me in charge of matching the gold from your costume to the setting around there.”

“Aw thanks can I help?”

“N-n-no!”

“Oh.”

“S-s-s-sorry the President gave us explicit instructions not to include you in the making of it. I’m r-r-r-r-really so sorry!”

“It’s fine Min, don’t worry about it.”

It’s just so apparent how little you would be included in your own activity no one really bothered to hide that fact from you

“Hey Gill this meeting on your calendar, I don’t remember getting your usual reminder for it.”

“That is because you are not invited to it.”

“Don’t be sad (Y/n)~Afterwards we can just come visit you after.”

“No no that’s okay I’ll just take the day off then. Catch up on homework.”

“Aw~ Don’t be like that we’ll come over to your house after.”

“No I’m not sad. I’m going to be happily doing my homework alone!”

“Putting that on our private calendar: Going to (Y/n)’s house an hour after the meeting.”

At the end of the day you’re just as surprised when the event begins and they shove you in the room under the stage with nothing but a warning not to move from the chair you’re in:

Part 2

[xomakara]

Tides of Rivalry

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You and Hongjoong have a rivalry to be the best captain of the High Seas. You constantly bicker with each other but you both hold high respect for each other. You both get stranded on an island and then feelings ensue.

PAIRING | Hongjoong/Reader

GENRE | piratecaptain!Hongjoong, piratecaptain!Reader, smut with no (maybe a little) plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), vaginal sex

RATING | Mature, 18+, MDNI

LENGTH | 5076 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | --

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Here's Pirate Captain Hongjoong! My ending could be better hahaha. But I hope you enjoy nevertheless.

“I’m going to kill you, Kim Hongjoong.” You muttered.

“Assuming we get out alive.” Hongjoong teased.

You and Hongjoong stood back to back, arms bound and tied together, standing on a plank about thirty feet above the ground, hanging over the side of a ship. With a huff of annoyance, you tried to kick his back leg.

“Ow! Watch it.” Hongjoong said, wincing at your kick. “We don’t want to fall overboard now do we?”

“It's your goddamn fault we’re in this mess.” You exclaimed. “Whose wonderful idea was it to play cards and then lose? Now look where we are.”

“It wasn’t my idea to bet everything I had on that cursed card game either. It’s all because of you and your shitty luck.” Hongjoong sighed.

You narrowed your eyes, struggling to look at his face. “My luck is better than your shitty, shitty luck.” You challenged, butting the back of his head with yours.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, sweetheart.” He teased.

“Oi oi oi! Cut that out or I will cut you.” You threatened.

“How can you when we’re both tied up?” Hongjoong laughed. “Hey at least I’ll die with a beautiful woman.”

“Ha ha. Funny joke.” You managed to mumble through laughter. “At least you have a pretty face to die with.”

How you and Hongjoong ended up walking the plank together was beyond ridiculous. They say it happens when two people come together under unusual circumstances. You were playing cards with Hongjoong and some other pirate captains when one captain (Hongjoong) got too cocky and lost his entire fortune to you. But as fate was cruel, you also lost all your money to another captain who seemingly hated yours and Hongjoong’s guts.

You don’t know how it happened. You’re drinking and playing cards with the other captains, bickering with Hongjoong and all of a sudden you’re tied up alongside him, standing on a piece of wood, staring down thirty feet below.

“You and your shitty luck.” You groaned.

“You lost too, sweetheart.” He reminded you.

“Yeah, well so did you!” You retorted.

“And now we’re both stuck here because of our bad luck.” He shrugged. “Life’s a bitch.”

“I can’t believe I might fall to my death with fucking sharks swimming down there with you!” You exclaimed, letting out a groan.

“Awh sweetheart, it’s okay to admit that you like me.” Hongjoong chuckled.

“Oh fuck off.” You mumbled.

“If we were on land, I’d definitely go fuck off. You can join me.” Hongjoong laughed.

“No way.” You snapped.

“Come on. Let’s just admit that we’re attracted to each other.” Hongjoong encouraged.

“What?! Are you crazy?! We are supposed to hate each other!” You yelled.

“Really? Because all those mean things you say to me are making me really think otherwise.” Hongjoong pointed out.

“You would probably try to seduce me if we weren’t on a bloody plank.” You said.

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow.

The crew of the ship that held you and Hongjoong hostage watched your little exchange from afar, with varying degrees of shock, disgust, amusement and disbelief. After a while, they were even trying to figure out what to do with the two of you.

A crewman looked at his captain, gesturing towards you and Hongjoong, and he gave a shrug. “Is that normal, Captain? Most folks would be scared to fall to their death but those two… I swear they almost seem excited.”

His captain shook his head. “Those two are always like that. Rival captains with friendly banter between them. Even after all these years, it’s not going to change anytime soon. I guess they both can’t resist teasing each other no matter what kind of situation they’re in.”

You and Hongjoong didn’t stop talking. Your antics were getting increasingly childish and immature but at least you were distracting yourself from thinking about falling off the ship to your certain death. In fact, every time one of the sailors glanced at the two of you, you'd both yell out ‘The hell you looking at!?’ and scare the shit out of them. The reactions of the crewmen were priceless. They shuddered, took a step backwards and then hurriedly returned to whatever they were doing.

“How sad is it that two pirate captains are stuck in this predicament?” You sighed.

“But hey, at least it’s better than being stuck alone right? At least we have each other.” Hongjoong smiled.

You rolled your eyes. “I would rather have another captain than you.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of pretty ladies who would love to relieve themselves with me, but none of them can compare to you.” Hongjoong jokes. “You’re the only female captain I would die for.”

“That's what you say." You snorted. "Until the next girl comes along and you forget all about me."

"There's no other girl that is a pirate captain. So you'll always be special to me." He argued.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ve had enough flirting for today.” You scoffed. You started to yell, hoping that the captain of this ship would hear you. "Yah! Chan-ah! Are you seriously gonna make Hongjoong and I stand here all day?!"

"What did we do to deserve this, kid?!" Hongjoong yelled out.

Chan, the captain of this ship, rolled his eyes. "Yah, I'm older than you!"

"By a fucking year!" Hongjoong shouted.

"Can't you guys shut up already?" Chan sighed. "If I agree to untie you, will you two shut up?"

"No guarantee!" You yelled back.

"Okay. If you won't shut up, then I'll just have one of my guys push you into the water. Then maybe you'll both shut up." Chan warned.

“Go ahead! Push us into the water! That will teach us both a lesson.” You swore, fighting hard against your bonds. “Do it! Fucking push us both into the ocean.”

“Oooh, scary!” Hongjoong laughed. “So dramatic. Chan, you know Y/N and I don't die easily."

“Then let’s prove it. What do you say, boys? Do you wanna give it a shot?” Chan asked his men.

The men on board raised their weapons. “Ready when you are, sir!”

"Push 'em." Chan ordered. Without any hesitation, one of Chan's men shoved the two of you off the plank, pushing you both over the edge.

"God fucking dammit!" You heard Hongjoon scream.

Your stomach dropped out when you felt your body falling. You closed your eyes tightly, holding your breath as you fell.

"Noooo!" You screamed. "Nooo! God damn it!"

Suddenly you heard a loud splash, followed by cheering. Everyone on board started to laugh and applaud. You couldn't believe what just happened. You and Hongjoong, still tied together, were kicking your feet in the water, fighting desperately to stay afloat. You opened your eyes just in time to see Chan grinning at you, clapping his hands and yelling "Perfect! That's what I wanted!"

"Fuck you!" You yelled as you and Hongjoong watched the ship sail away, leaving you both to fight for survival.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Calm down, Y/N." Hongjoong watched as you burst into anger. "The beach didn't do anything to you."

You and Hongjoong managed to swim to a deserted island nearby despite being tied together. It took a bit of teamwork, lots of yelling and splashing water around but somehow you made it there. As you both landed on shore, Hongjoong managed to find a sharp enough rock to cut your ropes loose. With your wrists free, you immediately stood up on shaky legs and let out a scream.

You continued to scream until you angerly plopped on the ground. You punched the dirt with your fist. You stared angrily at the ocean, cursing everything under the sun.

"I hate the whole world right now." You muttered, voice hoarse from screaming.

Hongjoong sat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"I hate all pirates. And the sea. And the air. And nature. And life. I hate it all." You huffed.

"Stop being dramatic." Hongjoong mumbled. "We should probably find some shelter before it gets dark. There are usually a few caves around here."

"Fine. But you're building the fire. I'm tired of life." You grumbled.

Hongjoong chuckled. "I'll take care of it. You can rest."

You sighed in relief, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. You scanned the horizon, watching the setting sun dip into the ocean. "Let's go find some cave." You said.

"Alright." Hongjoong agreed.

Both of you picked up the pace, running towards the nearest mountains in hopes of finding a cave. Luckily you found a nice sized cave hidden among the rocks, big enough to accommodate the both of you. As soon as you entered the cave, you crawled inside first, laying down on the floor and covering your face with your hands.

"Thank god." You whispered to yourself.

"I think I'll sleep outside tonight." Hongjoong suggested.

"Get in here, Hongjoong." You rolled your eyes. "It's cold outside. Don't be such a baby. I don't need Seonghwa and the rest of your crew jumping down my throat for letting you sleep out there."

"Fine." He conceded as he entered the cave. "I know a better way to stay warm."

"I will punch you if you suggest sleeping together." You threatened.

"I can take you." He joked.

"You must have a death wish." You laughed.

"It's either you or the sharks out there." Hongjoong shrugged as he gathered the items to create the fire. "Now get out of those wet clothes so you don't get sick. Don't want your crew to worry about you."

You sighed. "Why do you always have to be so responsible?"

"Hey, we might be pirates, but I care about all my crew members." He defended himself. "It's the least I could do for people I consider family. You and I might be rival captains but I care about you as well. We started this journey, this rivalry since we left our little village all those years ago. We may fight each other but deep down, we're still friends. You know how I feel about you."

"Yeah, you're right." You admitted. "Sometimes I get caught up in the fighting. Sometimes I forget that we're also good friends because we're also rivals. Yeah, sometimes I need a reminder."

As the fire warmed the cave, you stared at the burning flames, slowly making your way towards sleep. You still shivered because your back was exposed to the cold night air.

Hongjoong noticed your discomfort and opened his arms. "Y/N, come here."

"Hmmph." You refused before slowly inching your way towards him. "Fine. Just this one time."

"Good girl." Hongjoong smiled. "Come here."

Hongjoong wrapped you in his arms and you couldn't help but let out a sigh when your back was finally covered by the warmth of his chest. "Feels better, doesn't it?" He teased.

You let out a small nod, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

"You know, I enjoy our rivalry and bickering but sometimes I miss the days where we would talk about random things like the weather and ask each other about our families." He continued. "We used to do that back home. Back when we were kids."

"Yeah... I miss that too..." You admitted.

"Those days were good." He said softly. "Being together and talking about nonsense, playing with animals... It made us happy. Not that I'm happy now. I love being with my crew but..."

He paused, hesitating to continue. "You know... A part of me wishes we could turn back time. Go back to those times where it was just you and me. Those simple days when we would run through fields chasing butterflies."

"Me too...We're different people now. We're captains of our own crew and ships. We have people that depend on us and the feeling of responsibility weighs heavily on our shoulders." You turn your head to look at him, his eyes soft. "Sometimes I envy you. You're not burdened with anything. Everything you touch turns to gold. The sun rises for you, the moon follows behind. All of your dreams become reality."

"Even though I have shitty, shitty luck?" He laughed lightly.

"You have everything. I mean, you have me and your crew. You've built a legacy and reputation and everything else. You're the better pirate captain between us. I wish I could be half as successful as you are. I wish I could live as peacefully as you do. As far as I know, you haven't lost a single battle. No matter how many ships you take from others, they still admire you."

"Hey, you're a good captain too." He reassured. "Don't compare yourself to me. You've achieved much more than I ever did."

You shrugged. "You're only saying that to make me feel better."

He shook his head. "You're the one who started comparing ourselves to each other in the first place."

You blushed. "You never stop surprising me, you know that? Every time I think I know you well, you throw something new at me."

"Well, it's kind of true." He admitted. "Whenever you see someone you consider your rival succeed, it makes you want to strive even harder. Maybe that's why I do it. To inspire you. To make us better people."

You let out a small laugh, shifting closer to his warmth. "Have you ever thought about what we would be doing if we never became pirates? Where would we be right now?"

"Wherever we end up, we'd still be together. Wouldn't we?" Hongjoong assured. "Whatever happens, we'll be fine. Together, no matter what."

He pulled you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder. You let out a sigh of contentment as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heart against your ear. You never realized how soothing it was to listen to his heartbeat until now. You curled up tighter in his embrace and tried to sleep, snuggling closer to him as his warm arm wrapped around your waist.

"Hongjoong?"

"Hmm?"

"Even if we had a crappy past few days...I wouldn't want to experience this moment with anyone else but you."

He gave you a sweet smile. "Same here."

And with that, the two of you drifted into slumber.

You and Hongjoong managed to survive the night without incident. In the morning, you woke up to the smell of food cooking and Hongjoong sitting cross legged in front of a small table, cooking something over the fire.

"Where'd you find the food?" You asked as you sat up.

"Fish." Hongjoong explained as he handed you a piece of cooked fish. "I was hungry so I went fishing while you slept."

"Mmmm...thought I would never see the day where Captain Hongjoong would be feeding me fish." You smirked as you chewed on the fish.

Hongjoong let out a laugh. "I can't let the precious Captain Y/N starve."

"So, are we gonna be stuck here for a while?" You asked.

"Probably." Hongjoong replied. "Seonghwa and the guys will probably find us. Your crew is probably on the search as well. They wouldn't give up looking for us."

"Well, it seems like we're going to be living in a cave for a while." You shrugged. "Maybe we should do some exploring of this island. See what we can find. How about we start searching later today?"

"Sounds good to me." Hongjoong agreed.

The two of you spent most of the day exploring the island, finding a lot of herbs, berries and edible plants. By noon, both of you decided to return to the cave.

You and Hongjoong both sat down in front of the fire, staring intently at the red hot embers. Hongjoong looked serious, examining every detail of the fire. He stirred the ashes occasionally, breaking them apart. When the ash cooled off, he added more wood, creating another round of flames. After a few minutes, the logs burnt completely.

"Are you okay?" You asked, sensing that something was bothering him.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

"You seem really focused on the fire." You observed. "Is there something wrong?"

Hongjoong paused. "Just a bit." He answered honestly. "Can't quite put my finger on it."

"That's okay." You smiled. "If you need to talk about it, I'm here for you."

"Thanks." He smiled back.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Both of you stared into the fire, reflecting on your memories. Some good, some bad. But they were memories nonetheless.

You couldn't remember how long you stared at the fire. All you knew was that it felt as if the world stopped moving. The fire provided the only light, preventing you from being able to tell time.

All of a sudden, you felt a warm hand resting on your thigh.

"What are you thinking about?" Hongjoong whispered, pulling you closer to him.

"Nothing." You lied.

"Lie." Hongjoong smirked. "I can tell you're lying."

"Okay, fine." You pouted. "I'm thinking about my life."

"I figured as much." Hongjoong chuckled. "Do you regret coming with me? Becoming a pirate? Everything we've been through?"

"Sometimes." You confessed. "But sometimes, I feel like I made the right decision. It's weird because usually, when I think of regrets, it's when I was younger. Whenever I thought of a future without you, it was hard for me to breathe. I guess now that I'm older, I've grown stronger and learned how to deal with life on my own."

"You don't need to prove yourself to me." Hongjoong assured. "I'm already proud of the person you've become. Even though we fight and argue, I'm glad that you chose to follow your dreams and work towards achieving them. Even though we're rivals, I'm proud of you. You're smart, beautiful, ambitious and driven. You're such a great person, Y/N."

You turned to face him. His gaze held so much warmth. It enveloped you and filled you with comfort. "Hongjoong?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you and I will have a future together?" You asked softly. "A future where we aren't always fighting on who has the best crew, the best ship, or who is the better pirate?"

"Why do you ask?" He asked.

"Because I want to spend my life with you." You let out a small laugh. "It just got me thinking that all these squabbles and random bickering might disappear one day. One day, we might just wake up one day and realize that we fell in love with each other and decided to spend the rest of our lives together."

"Y/N." Hongjoong murmured softly.

"What?" You questioned, turning to look at him.

His expression softened and he slowly brought his lips to meet yours. He didn't speak. Instead, he simply placed his hand gently on the side of your cheek and kissed you deeply.

When you finally came up for air, you stared into his eyes. A tiny flutter in your stomach told you that this wasn't the last time you'd be kissing him.

"I knew you liked me." Hongjoong smiled, cupping your chin in his hand.

"Shut up." You laughed lightly.

"Come on." Hongjoong grabbed your hand. "Let's go explore the rest of this island. There's gotta be something here worth our time."

The two of you began walking around the island again. But this time, it was more of an intimate walk, holding hands and sneaking kisses whenever you felt like it. You found it funny how quickly things changed between the two of you. Not that it was a bad thing. Hongjoong certainly didn't seem to mind either way.

After a few hours of exploration, the two of you returned to the cave. The sun was beginning to set and both of you decided to rest.

Hongjoong walked over to the fire pit and lit a fresh batch of embers, creating enough heat to keep you warm during the night. You walked over to sit next to him and he wrapped his arms around you. You settled in his embrace, feeling safe and comfortable.

Both of you stared at the burning embers, watching them dance around in the wind.

"You know," You said, causing Hongjoong to turn his attention away from the fire to look down at you. "I'm feeling rather cold here."

"Oh really?" Hongjoong teased. "What do you propose we should do, Captain Y/N?"

You smirked playfully. "Why don't you tell me, Captain Hongjoong."

"Well..." He trailed off.

"I'm waiting." You teased.

"How about I keep you warm tonight?" He offered.

You giggled. "Hmmmm....I think I like the sound of that."

"You won't regret it." Hongjoong grinned.

And with that, he wrapped his arms around you and lowered his lips to meet yours. The kiss was gentle and tender. He ran his fingers through your hair as he continued to kiss you. And before you knew it, you were lost in a passionate haze.

Your hands ran through his hair, fiddling with his soft strands. You pressed your body closer to his, letting your tongue slip into his mouth, tasting his breath.

Before long, the two of you were making out by the fire, losing track of everything except each other. Your legs intertwined with his, your arms entwined with his. Soon, you were straddling him, grinding your hips against his.

In his eagerness to make love to you, Hongjoong slid your shirt off of your shoulders, slipping it over your head and onto the ground. His hands explored your chest, his fingertips grazing across your hardened nipples. Your breathing became ragged as his touch grew more insistent. He sucked your breast into his mouth, making sure not to miss any part of it. You moaned loudly as his tongue circled around your sensitive nipple. You clutched at his hair, pulling him closer to you.

"Hongjoong..." You let out a sigh as you felt his hands gently caressing your sides. "Please..."

He continued playing with your breasts, taking his time and paying special attention to your nipples. He pinched them gently, sucking harder at your breasts. With his tongue still circling around your nipple, he used his teeth to gently bite down, sending chills throughout your entire body.

Your breathing increased. Every touch, every lick, every tug sent tingles throughout your body. You clung to him, desperately trying to control your trembling legs. Hongjoong broke away slightly, tugging his shirt off, before continuing to ravage your breasts. His tongue now plunged into your mouth, leaving a trail of wetness along your neck. You shivered as his warm breath washed over your skin. His hands gently massaged your back as his thumbs grazed down the middle of your spine. Your head fell back and you closed your eyes, letting out a soft moan.

Suddenly, you heard a soft whimper escape from your lips. "Hongjoong...please..."

It took a few minutes for him to remove the rest of his and your clothes, leaving you both naked. Neither of you bothered to hide anything anymore. You just wanted to feel each other. Your hands moved swiftly over his body, touching every inch you could reach.

Hongjoong's hands ran down your body, stopping at your waist. He pulled you down and began to passionately kiss you again. Your hands were buried deep within his hair, his strong hands firmly gripping your hips. His erection pressed into your stomach, forcing your breathing to become even heavier.

Before you knew it, you were sitting up, straddling him and slowly lowering yourself down onto him. He gasped, biting his lip as he felt your tight muscles squeeze around his hardness. You both moaned at the same time.

With your eyes locked onto his, you began riding him, using your hips to grind against his arousal. His hands rested on your hips, gently guiding you up and down. Your breaths became ragged, your heart rate increased rapidly. Every moment seemed to pass too quickly. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering softly in his ear.

"Fuck...you feel amazing." Hongjoong murmured, running his hands up and down your back. "So tight and hot...can't believe you fit me so perfectly."

He kissed you roughly, pushing you back down onto him, moaning into your mouth as you slowly rode him. He gripped the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, plunging his tongue inside of your mouth. He rolled his hips, giving you more friction against him. As you rode him, Hongjoong peppered kisses down your neck, nibbling at your shoulder blades. The moans that escaped your lips caused him to smile.

He leaned back, looking down at you, watching you ride him. "Y/N..." He breathed. "Look at me."

Slowly, you looked up into his dark brown eyes. They had a mix of lust, desire and affection. Your hands moved from his neck, stroking his jawline, tilting his head slightly so that you could kiss him properly. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, mingling with his. His arms encircled your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he bit down gently on your lower lip. You sighed softly as you rocked your hips faster against his arousal.

Hongjoong couldn't help but groan in pleasure. "You're driving me fucking crazy, Y/N." He whispered.

"Me too..." You whispered back, arching your back and meeting his thrusts with your own. Your breasts bounced with every thrust.

As the two of you fucked by the fire, the glittering stars above glittered in their perfection. Hongjoong kept you in his arms as you slowly sank down on him, moaning and groaning in pleasure. He licked his lips as he looked down at you, completely mesmerized by your beauty.

He never imagined falling in love with someone like you. Never thought that anyone would make him feel this way. This wasn't just a simple infatuation. It was something else entirely. Love. You made him feel complete. Complete happiness. Complete satisfaction. Complete trust. Complete adoration.

You laid your head on his shoulder, slowly rocking your hips back and forth. He hummed in pleasure, moving his hands up and down your back, grabbing your ass and lifting you slightly off of him. He let out a soft grunt as you impaled yourself on him once more.

"Don't stop...please..." You begged, raising your head and locking your gaze with his. "Just...don't stop."

He held himself inside of you, rocking gently against you. "I can't...let you go, Y/N." He whispered, panting heavily.

"Don't...please..." You begged. "Hongjoong...fuck..."

"I want to fuck you all night, Y/N." He panted. "All day, all week...all month, all year. I want to spend every second of my life with you. In the good times, in the bad times. The times when you smile, the times when you cry. You're all I want, all I need, Y/N. Do you understand? All I want is you. Forever."

"I love you." You whispered.

"Say it again." He demanded.

"I love you, Hongjoong." You repeated.

"Say it louder." He growled.

"I love you!" You shouted, closing your eyes and grinding your hips against him even faster.

"That's right." He murmured, tightening his grip on your hips. "Love me. Fuck me. Just like this."

His grip tightened on your hips as he pounded into you harder. The sound of your grunts filled the air. His face was flushed and beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. His entire body tensed up, as he prepared to release himself inside of you.

"Cum for me, love." He whispered. "Let me hear you cum for me."

"Hongjoong! Fuck!" You cried, burying your face in his shoulder as you screamed out in ecstasy.

As the climax built up within him, he pushed into you one last time, gasping and grunting as he released his seed inside of you. He moaned in bliss as he came hard inside of you.

You sat up in his embrace, kissing him lightly on the lips. Both of you caught your breath, before he chuckled lightly.

"The High Seas can wait another night." He smiled.

"But what about the fact that the sun will rise soon?" You laughed.

"It'll give us plenty of time to make love again." He winked.

"Captain Hongjoong." You purred, before pressing your lips to his again. “You know how to spoil a woman.”

The next morning, you and Hongjoong were strolling along the beach when you heard screaming. You and Hongjoong turned to look at the person, eyes widening in surprise and relief.

"Captain!"

"Captain Y/N!"

You and Hongjoong rushed towards your crews, Hongjoong getting engulfed by his men and you in yours. They all had big smiles on their faces.

"Captain Y/N!" One of your crewmembers exclaimed, throwing his arms around you. "I'm so happy you're still alive! We've been worried sick!"

"Are you guys alright?" You asked, gently patting one of your men on the shoulder.

"Yeah, we're fine. Got some nasty cuts and bruises though." A man replied.

"But..."

"But?" You looked at them.

"The ship...she's wrecked." Another crewmember spoke up. "Everything's gone."

You opened your mouth to speak, but found that no words would come out. Hongjoong placed a gentle hand on your arm, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You and your crew always have a place with us. You're family now." He smiled. "We can find you a new ship to sail on, if you'd like."

"What if I wanted to stay with you forever?" You asked, unable to contain your grin. "Be your co-captain?"

"Of course, Y/N." He grinned back, turning to look at your crew. "You all are welcome to join my crew or leave. You won't be punished either way."

"We'll go wherever our captain goes!" The crew member who had spoken first declared proudly.

"Great." Hongjoong said happily as he pulled you close to him. He kissed your forehead. "Then let's set sail for a new adventure together."

[wordy-little-witch]

Incorrect quotes bc I need some dopamine-

It's long and this is a mix of shit I've heard in my life, random scenes my brain conjures up, and the result of a ridiculous amount of cold medicine.

Roger pirates edition!!!!

Roger: hey buglet, what have you got there?

Buggy: a bomb! :o3

Roger: .... ah. Seems like something a responsible parent would never let their child play with.

Buggy: :o(

Roger: good thing I'm a captain!

Buggy: :oD

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Shanks: Bugs?

Buggy: what?

Shanks: would you love me if I was a worm?

Buggy: .... hmmm....

Shanks: you have to think about it?!??

Buggy: well duh! We're pirates! We're on a pirate ship, dumbass! How would I keep a worm alive, let alone happy and safe, on a pirate ship?? Not to mention all the different species of worms! What kind of worm would you be?? What kind of care would you need? It's a big question- *goes on a tangent about worms, worm care, and is slowly working himself into a panic*

Shanks, who just heard a landlocked girl ask her boyfriend it and wanted to ask buggy bc he thought it would annoy him: .... a h

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Rayleigh: .... what do you have there, Captain?

Roger, holding a baby in a treasure chest and another, smaller baby in his sash: an ADVENTURE!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Gabban, trying to teach the kids their numbers: one~ twoo~ threeee~

Shanks: t'wee!!!

Gabban: right! And what comes after three? Do you know, Buggy?

Buggy, with the confidence of a pirate toddler: FUCK!!

Gabban:

Rayleigh, appearing out of thin air, menacing smile in place: :)

Gabban: :/

Buggy and Shanks: :D fuck fuck fuck!!!

Rayleigh: remind me to kill Roger later, please.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocus: alright boys. Let's work on that math, okay? So, Bug, if you had seven treasure chests-

Buggy: yesss!!!

Crocus: focus! Seven treasure chests. Now Shanks asks for three of them. How many treasure chests would you have left?

Buggy: seven.

Crocus: no, Shanks asked for three of them.

Shanks: it's okay, Buggy, you can keep your treasure!

Crocus: no- I- okay, Buggy has seven chests. I ask for three of them. How many do you have left?

Buggy: seven.

Crocus: okay, I'm not asking, I am taking the three treasure chests by force. How many do you have now.

Buggy: seven and a corpse.

Crocus: .....

Shanks: ......

Buggy: ......

Crocus: ................ is this why Rayleigh made math time my job

Buggy: probably. I bit him last time.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Whitebeard: Roger! I never expected you to take on children! Taking a page from my book, are you?

Roger: something like that hahaha! Eddie, meet my brats! This redhead here is Shanks, he's a tough little cookie.

Shanks: hi!!

Roger: and the bluebelle here is Buggy. He's my little cupcake!!

Whitebeard: aw, because he's small and sweet?

Roger, smiling widely: no, because cupcakes can easily contain many varieties of mortal harm, I have learned, and he is small, cute and deadly.

Buggy, pouting: it was one time!!

Roger: three times, and that's not counting that one time with Garp and the arsenic

Buggy: >:o/

Whitebeard:

The Whitebeard pirates:

Roger: isn't he the cutest??

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Marco: GET YOUR FUCKIN CLOWN-

Shanks: he don't bite

Marco, trying desperately to shake Buggy off of his leg: YES HE DO, HELP-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, 3 years old, slams his sippy cup onto the table top: I need a dwink.

Sunbell, trying not to laugh: aw, what's up, little man?

Buggy: S'anks is twyin' my patience. Gimme da good stuffs.

Sunbell: okay. Apple juice or-

Buggy: wum.

Sunbell:

Buggy:

Sunbell: baby bug, rum is for grown ups. How about some milk?

Buggy: no. Papa Rayray has wum when cap'in is being extra dumb. And S'anks is being extra EXTRA dumb ri' now. I need wum.

Sunbell: ...... alright then-

((He does not in face give Buggy rum, but he DOES make a point of saving a small rum bottle to fill with cranberry juice for future reference.))

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Rayleigh: hey, buddy, what's wrong?

Buggy: I have a headache that comes and goes.

Ray: aw, here, let's go to Crocus-

Shanks: hi, Buggy!!

Buggy: there it is.

Rayleigh: ..... yeah Crocus can't help with that.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, laying on the deck at 3 in the morning:

Roger: bugababy, what are you doing up?

Buggy: what is the point of life, if not only to suffer? What is the purpose of being here if it's all a cyclical preordained destiny of agony and heartache? Why would the Spirits see fit to put us into this hellscape if not for their own sick amusement-?

Roger: Buggy, is this because Shanks ate your gummy worms?

Buggy: that red haired fucker knew they were mine-!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Shanks: hey, Captain? How does one confess their undying love to someone?

Roger: just because I'm with Rouge doesn't mean I know how it happened, son.

MEANWHILE

Buggy: hey, mom?

Rouge: yes, ma fleur?

Buggy: I think Shanks is in love with me.

Rouge: neat. Do you love him too?

Buggy: unfortunately.

Rouge: nice.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Rayleigh: I didn't choose parent life. Parent life came to me, mid-drink, in the form of an unhinged adult man, and then expanded further with the addition of two tiny humans.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Roger, with Shanks in a front facing baby carrier: you know what's cute than one baby?

Random pirate enemy, trying to figure out why this man showed up to a fight with a baby:

Roger, turning to show Buggy in a carrier on his back: two babies!!!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy @ Garp: were it not for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.

Gabban:

Shanks:

Rayleigh:

Roger: I mean.... we're pirates, so laws-

Garp, sweating, who just set down a draw 4 in Oro Uno: No, kid's right, gotta listen to the law

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Rayleigh: I have no fear

Shanks, pale and shaking: Buggy hasn't slept in two days he's making bombs

Rayleigh: I have several fears.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sengoku: Garp, you've been acting strange ever since you came back from your last excursion.

Garp: no i haven't.

Sengoku: you just leveled a circus tent after seeing a bunch of clowns.

Garp, having flashbacks to being bitten by a tiny clown, thousand yard stare: their joyful levity is a lie

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: if I had a nickel for every time I had a traumatic experience on this damn crew, I'd have enough to pay for my therapy bills.

Shanks: if I had a nickel for every traumatizing experience I had here, I'd have enough to pay for my drinking problem.

Gabban, looking at the 11 year olds: .... maybe pirates aren't built for being parents.......

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Whitebeard: I fear no man.

Also Whitebeard, thinking on that first time he interacted with Buggy one on one: but that thing..... it scares me.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

BONUS CROSS GUILD CONTENT

Buggy: it's hard being Easy, Breezy, Beautiful, Cover Girl, but a bitch makes due

Crocodile: how did you survive this far

Buggy: I may have had rabies

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: why does Shanks huddle in a corner when someone plays circus music

Buggy: bullseyes are red.

Mihawk: what does that have to do with-

Buggy: throws a knife and hits dead center of an apple, some unknown source playing circus music in the background

Mihawk:

Buggy:

Mihawk: this explain so much and yet so little

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile: have you been sneaking money

Buggy: I would love to do that, but unfortunately the clap of my big dumpy cheeks would alert you to my hiding place.

Mihawk, fighting a migraine: do you ever think before you speak

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: hey, want a card reading?

Crocodile: a what

Mihawk: you read cards?

Buggy, laying a card down: oh, look it's a Caterpie.

Croc+Hawk:

Buggy: I means you're a douchebag.

((Buggy does in fact read tarot cards, smth he and Mihawk eventually bond over))

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, after almost dying part 2847164917: no mister reaper we have to stop meeting like this....

The guy who just shot him with seastone: what the fu-

[manias-wordcount]

I hope you are doing good! And if requests are open might i request some hc of dabi, bakugo, and spike spiegel (its first boyfriend requester again sorry ;w;) reacting to reader who dresses up like them for halloween (or for spike reader dresses like cowboy andy hahaha)

Dressing Up Like Him HCs (Katsuki Bakugo, Dabi, Spike Spiegel)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

He’s gonna think you’re sooo cute lmaoo

He’ll tell you that too but only once or twice - he doesn't want it to get to your head

Chances are you’re probably wearing his clothes and string bean here long as fuck so it’s likely too big for you in certain ways

But he really likes the look of you in one of his shirts and his jackets (You look ridiculous in his pants because of just how ill-fitted they are on you but that’s beside the point)

The only thing that really throws him off is seeing the staples and skin graft scars on you

It’s a crude emulation of his actual skin grafts made from makeup and face paint, but it served as a weird and startling reminder of just how fragile you compared to him

The pain he suffered as a result of his own flames was hard enough but the idea of going through the same pain and process as him? No thanks 

So in the end, he’s gonna think you look cute and will definitely let you borrow one of his jackets anytime you ask because he likes how you look in them

But don’t show him what you’d look like when you’re hurt okay? 

Because who knows what he’d do if he saw you hurt like that for real

Katsuki Bakugo

Even since his debut, Halloween costumes of his hero costume have been pretty hard to come by

So you were pretty lucky to be able to snag a more feminine-looking costume a couple of years after his debut

It wasn’t the greatest material and there were definitely some details that they just didn’t get right (And you know he’d have something to say about the costume creators once he finds out later)

But seeing his face when you showed him the costume was more than enough for you to be satisfied

So naturally, he’s going to be super cocky and like grinning ear to ear like a complete dumbass

Like seeing his SO dress up exactly like him in a cuter version of his costume is really gonna make him happy because that ego is still a little unchecked

But he’s also gonna feel extremely proud

He knew of the existence of the halloween costumes and he knew he had fans

But something about seeing the person he loves most dressing up like him in a show of admiration and affection is probably gonna make him feel all soft and squishy and sweet on the inside

Not that he’d ever admit that though

Spike Spiegel

At first, he’s gonna be mad because the outfit absolutely reminds him of Andy

But then you hit in with the

“I’m a cowboy Spike! I’m just like you!”

And he’s gonna fucking melt

Suddenly all negative feelings he has about cowboys are being washed away by the image of you looking like you walked fresh off the set of Big Shots

Because he’s him, he gonna mess around with your hat and make you pose and say certain things from old western movies with a drawl

He might even sneak a couple of photos here and there (or he’s gonna be completely shameless about it and take candid photos of you looking cute right in front of your face)

And eventually, he’ll probably hit you with his signature snark and tell you that he doesn’t dress anything like that

But he won’t be quick to ruin your fun though - he’s got a lot more compliments to shower you with

Especially since you dress up like all for him

[leclsrc]

This req is gonna sound weird but do yk that scene in friends where ross is hugging rachel by the legs? on his knees? could i have a charles drabble w/ that? ty!

the final frame – cl16

You and Charles move in together, among other things.

auds here... this req is from before christmas hahaha. i do not watch friends so i scoured the internet for this ‘scene’, i hope i was right and i hope i did this req justice! this is the last one for now and i’ll hopefully reopen them fr in a minute. title from this

The night’s colder than you anticipated, a cool draft sending goosebumps up your forearm as you inspect the fillet of salmon in the oven. You step forward, off where you’d been leaning on the island, to heave the window shut—the act usually requires all your strength—but Charles bounds into you from behind, pressing insistent, laughing kisses onto your neck.

“C,” you say, giggling yourself, a hand coming up to stroke at the nape of his neck. “Stop, there are people in the next room.”

He bites on your jaw a little and you laugh. “Next room, babe. Like, right in the next—just two metres—!”

Laughing still, he finally lets up and effortlessly shuts the window himself. He pecks another kiss, just on the tip of your nose, murmurs I love you and lets it settle into the herb-smelling air. “Are you tipsy?” You ask, teasing. He winks.

“No—really, though,” you press a little, lacing your hands together. “You’re fine?”

“Totally.” He smiles. “Bit nervous.”

“I was, too,” you start, squeezing his hand, “until I remembered these are literally just our friends. And they’re stupid, and they’ll probably love us even if we announced we murdered someone.”

He nods and smiles, slots your mouths together. When he pulls away, he murmurs, “I love you. You look beautiful.”

Really, you’re just in a two-year-old dress from a flea market in Provence, and your hair is dry and ratty and tied into a bun, but you appreciate the compliment. He’s being genuine, eyes gliding over you with ease as he presses yet another kiss to your cheek; you loop your arms around his neck, smiling up at him. This is so foolish, you think, to be so idiotically in love like this, but it’s Charles, and it makes so much sense.

“You’re glowing, really.” He doesn’t give, still spouting compliments like a broken fountain. 

“You suck.” You’ve never been good at accepting compliments, which seems ironic because you’re with a man who loves words, loves to tell you how much you mean to him, muffled by skin or said through a mic or in French or Italian. You tug him closer. “Should we go?”

He pauses, exhales. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Your friend group has gathered here, at Charles’ place, under the pretense that you’re trying to finish the ridiculously expensive bottle of wine Charles had purchased from France, but really, it’s for you both to announce your moving in together. Little milestones like these have always been celebrated by your group, and this is no different; tonight, Max has even volunteered to fix the clock that permanently reads 12:38 on Charles’ flat’s mantle.

You lead the way from the kitchen into the living room, where everyone is engaged in some kind of chatter or activity. Lily’s legs are draped over Alex’s lap and she’s coaching him through a Rubik’s cube. Lando is busy telling a joke to Carlos and Isa. And Max is three feet off the ground fiddling with a clock, turning deviously to ask: “Where have you two been?”

“Shagging,” you reply with nonchalance. 

“Your hair’s still perfect,” Lily says disapprovingly. “Don’t lie!”

You roll your eyes, stifling a smile as you lean into Charles’ arm that’s wrapped itself around your shoulders. In the future, you’ll tell yourself you should’ve noticed his clammy hand pressed against your arm, or turned and noticed his blank stare, his too-nervous gait. So many signs, you’ll think, and you ignored them all because you felt so damn happy. “Okay, I’m lying. The truth is…”

You turn to him, brows raising. “…you wanna go?”

“I wan—do you?”

“Sure, if you—”

“Just tell us!” Lando yells impatiently, sitting straighter, abandoning the joke in favor of this. “Tell us. Now!”

“Okay, um, we—well, a few months ago we decided we kind of. No, we definitely wanted to live together. And, to save you all the sexy details of getting leases and looking around Monaco for flats—we got one just two weeks ago. So this is—what it is, is it’s, uh, really a dinner to celebrate saying bye-bye to Charles’ flat. Okay? Right. Okay.”

You pause. The room erupts in whoops and cheers—many utterances of the word finally! float across the room. Immediately Isa and Lily are standing, demanding to see pictures of the new place, directions they can input into their cars and phones so they know exactly how to get there. Carlos, Lando, and Alex all cheer, offer alcohol as housewarming gifts. Max nearly drops the clock.

And this is it, you think, the rest of your life’s been decided. With this group, and your Charles, and the flat that will be yours by tomorrow morning.

—

Your house doesn’t feel much like home.

You know it’s an unfair statement, that it’s only really been two, three months of living together. But something has shifted, something you cannot name no matter how hard you try to. It’s just as cold tonight as it was the night you were in Charles’ old place announcing this one, but everything feels different now.

The move had started excitedly, with you sending near daily updates to the group chat with Isa and Lily, of paint swatches and ship-ins from IKEA. They sent flowers, came over to inspect the place, and so did everyone else—Max returned the now repaired clock, nailed it onto a spot on the wall the entire group agreed on. Slowly, bit by bit, the place began to feel like it was yours. 

But the nights without Charles grew long, and the days with him at work or at the gym or at a media affair—some of which he’d easily denied in favor of you before—grew more frequent. The flat, big and wide and lofty in an affluent neighborhood, felt bigger when he was gone. You were alone, a stranger in your own house, without him. 

You can’t pinpoint anything.

You can’t pinpoint the when, the how, the why, the if. To you, everything is vague, and that’s the worst part: how can you fix something you can barely understand? You haven’t shared a cup of coffee in ages, and the most you see of him is half his foot departing the front door in the morning. It could be work, it could be the preparing for the season, but in six years of being together nothing’s felt quite like this. You wonder if it’s deliberate. 

But your texts to Isa and Lily stay the same. Cream or eggshell? Cerulean or slate? And when they ask about Charles, you ignore the bite of guilt and lie instead. C and I just had brunch, he said eggshell, but the truth is, you’re the one settling on eggshell. You’d asked him ‘cream or eggshell’ three weeks ago and he said he’d think about it but he didn’t come home until four, and he hasn’t answered it.

He gets in on Saturday night earlier than usual, eyes dark with exhaustion. He’s wearing a suit, and you don’t know why. You can’t place half the places he’s been lately. His texts are choppy, standoffish. Here. Leaving soon. I’ll see you? “Hi, baby,” he croaks when he sees you nursing wine at the kitchen counter.

“C,” you say quietly. “Hi. When did you get in?”

“Just now, I was driven.” 

“Oh.” You pause. “Want a glass?” You raise the bottle.

He seems to hesitate, stopping in his tracks a bit before nodding defeatedly and pacing toward you. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheekbone, then finally your lips. You relish this, because you haven’t had it in so long. This intimacy, this affection, this kiss that isn’t pressed onto you while you’re asleep and he comes home with apologies flowing from his lips.

You pull away, pour him a glass of red. “Isn’t it crazy to think we have a home now?”

His smile flickers a little, and you notice. You try not to sound nosy when you pry. “C,” you say, the lump rising in your throat. Here you are, celebrating one of the happiest chapters of your life, but Charles won’t even meet your eyes. This is it. After months of not knowing, you think, you have to know. Now. “Are you okay?”

The wine is only half-poured. He sighs shakily, shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He sounds so, so far away.

“You’re scaring me,” you say, laughing. But you sound more nervous than amused. He sounds nervous, too.

“Baby,” he says suddenly, like a dam in his mind has broken and everything is spilling out, all the damage, all of it, and it’s washing onto you like a massive wash of water. “Baby, I—I fucked up.”

You cannot withstand the wave. Your eyebrows knit together. “Tell me,” you insist. Even more surprisingly, he crumples to his knees, hugs your thighs and leans against you. You press, anyway. “Talk to me, C. Please.”

“You can’t fix this,” he says resolutely, “you abso—you can’t.”

“I will,” you say. “I love you.”

“I slept with someone else.” This is a great, big, terrible feeling. You really can’t fix this. You’re back to being clueless. Your heart stops, and so does your breath, heavy and heaving. Words are dry when they try to leave your throat, leap off your tongue. Your hand, threaded into Charles’ hair, pauses. You feel him crying, but you feel nothing else.

“You what,” you ask. It’s so dry, everything is desert dry. A whisper, a breath, a murmur in the cold kitchen.

“I’m sorry.”

“C,” you say, and you can’t even cry yet. You’re stunned, struck with dizzy disbelief. “Was it—when, like, last season…?”

His silence answers you, and you stumble backwards, out of his grasp. You shake your head, like you’re trying to quell the tears, the lump in your throat, the nerves in your stomach that threaten to bubble over.

“Don’t say this year.” You shake your head, over and over, shaking and shaking, like it will rid you of the conversation you’re currently having. You think of the paperwork, of the nearly dropped clock, of signing the lease, of eggshell and flowers, of housewarming gifts yet to be unwrapped.

Tearily, you muster, “Don’t tell me, C. Don’t fucking do this to me, please. Don’t.”

“I barely even know her,” he says. “Once. It happened once. It meant nothing.” Your soul crushes, shot and wilted.

“No, it meant everything,” you say angrily. You’re angry now. Angry and sad, and furious and boiling with rage. You’re everything. You’re a house fire, right here in the flat. 

And you stand, feet bare on the tile, thinking about how you’ll have to live with this forever, branded like an ugly stamp. You loved and he did not. Get out, you say. Get out and don’t come back, I don’t care. Don’t fucking come back. You shove him weakly, but he gets the message, ushers himself to the coat rack. You’re not even yelling. You’re just breathing heavy, shaking your head, like you’re denying this ever happened.

You only cry when he’s left, loud, exruciating sobs. He wrestles himself outside still apologizing, saying he’ll be back tomorrow. You’re torn between hoping he will be and hoping you never see him again, crumpled to the hardwood of your brand new house, knees weak, heart weaker. You don’t get up until morning. 

[sleepybabybees]

Time for more shenanigans because I enjoy doing these-

Honestly- expect everyone at this point-

---

Price: Are you a painting?

Nik: What-?

Price: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Graves: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG HIM OR SOMETHING-

---

Price: Two years ago, I married my best friend.

Price: Graves is still mad about it, but me and Nik were drunk and thought it was funny.

---

Price: Are you ready to commit?

Nik: Like, a crime or a relationship?

---

Price: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Laswell: ...I'm gonna kill him-

Nik: katie- no-

---

Laswell: Caw caw, motherfuckers.

---

Laswell: Where the devil is Graves?

Nik: Well, it is raining outside... Maybe he melted?

Price: Shall I look outside for a pointy hat?

Laswell holding back a laugh: I hate that I found that funny- fuck you-

---

Price: Are you good?

Laswell: In what sense?

Price: Generally.

Laswell: Oh, definitely not.

---

Price: Fine! Judge all you want but...

Price, points at Nik: Married a lesbian.

Price, points at Graves: Left a man at the altar.

Price, points at Ghost: Fell in love with a Scottish soldier

Price, points at Laswell: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire.

Price, points at Soap: Lives in a box!

---

Graves: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Nik: >:O language

Laswell: Yeah watch your fucking language

Ghost: Okay, who taught Laswell the fuck word?!

Price: 'The fuck word'.

Soap: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Laswell: Oh my god they censored it

Price: Say fuck, Soap.

Laswell: Do it, Soap. Say fuck.

---

Ghost: If I fall…

Price: I’ll be there to catch you.

Nik: *looks at Graves* What if I fall?

Graves: Then I’ll fall with you, never leaving your side.

Soap: *watches these two interactions*

Soap, to Laswell: And if I fall?

Laswell: I’ll be the one who pushed you.

---

Nik: So, did everyone learn their lesson?

Laswell: No.

Gaz: I did not.

Ghost: I may have actually forgotten one.

Soap: Also no.

Nik: Oh good, neither did I.

Price: *Exhausted sigh*

---

Alex: I never said I was gonna get back together with them. But I was thinking, they're in town, would it be the worst thing in the world if I gave them a call?

Alejandro: No. No, Alex, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would be the fourth worst thing. Number one: a super volcano. Number two: an asteroid hits the Earth. Number three: All the Evel Knievel movies are lost. Number four: Alex calls Farah. Number five: Rudy gets eaten by a shark.

Rudy: I’m Rudy, and I approve the order of that list.

---

Rudy: Farah, I have a couple of words to say to you.

Alex: Please let those two words be “I’m sorry.”

Alejandro: I’m ready with the bleep button if not.

---

Rudy: Those darn tall old people.

Farah: Darn em' indeed.

Alex: Don't worry, they'll be gone soon enough.

Alejandro: *sharpening knife* Yes. Dead.

The Squad:

Alejandro: Hahaha.

Alejandro: ...Is this self-destructive behaviour?

---

Alejandro: That's ridiculous, Rudy doesn't have a crush on me.

Farah: Yes, he does.

Alex: Yes, he does.

Valeria: Yes, he does.

Rudy: Yes, I do.

---

Alex: Why do you act like we’re three year olds?

Rudy, exasperated: WHY?!?

Rudy points at Alejandro: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR!

Rudy points at Farah: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK!

Rudy points at Alex: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND!

Rudy: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

---

Rudy: Hey Farah, wanna third wheel on my date with Alejandro tomorrow?

Farah: Sure.

Rudy: Alex! Wanna third wheel on my date with Alejandro tomorrow?

Rudy: Great! I've always wanted to go on a double date!

Farah &amp; Alex: ...

Alejandro: Rudy...

---

Alejandro: I love you.

Rudy: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Alejandro and Rudy kiss passionately*

Alex, to Farah: You owe me 20 dollars.

---

Alex: *tapping fingers on table*

Rudy: *taps fingers back furiously*

Farah: …What’s going on?

Alejandro: Morse code. They’re talking.

Alex: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … -

Rudy: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

---

Alejandro: Why are your tongues purple?

Alex: We had slushies. I had a blue one.

Farah: I had a red one.

Alejandro: oh.

Alejandro:

Alejandro: OH.

Rudy:

Rudy: You drank eachothers slushies?

---

Soap: Why is Gaz crying on the floor?

Ghost: he's drunk.

Soap: And?

Ghost: he saw a picture of Roach's husband.

Soap: But he's Roach's husband?

Ghost: I know.

---

Ghost, referring to Roach and Gaz: Those guys are dorks.

Soap: Yes, but they’re our dorks.

---

Soap: Who would you swipe right for? Gaz or Ghost?

Roach : I would delete the app.

---

Soap: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Gaz: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Ghost: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Roach : My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

---

Roach : How is the most beautiful person in the world?

Gaz: *blushing* I—

Ghost, butting into the conversation: Soap is perfect, thanks for asking.

---

Eskell: You really believe in Shepard?

Oryn: Mmm… Luckily, he believes in himself enough for the both of us.

---

Shephard: Is this your plan B?

Eskell: Technically, this is plan P.

Shephard: Plan P? Is there a plan M?

Eskell: Yes, but I marry Oryn in plan M.

Oryn: I like plan M.

---

Shephard: *Reading a letter*

Oryn: Well, what does it say?

Shephard: It’s a confession letter. It turns out Eskell killed my pet rock.

---

Oryn, about Eskell: Can I tell them they look nice?

Shephard: Sure.

Oryn: Can I tell them I respect them?

Shephard: Maybe, if they ask.

Oryn: Should I show them an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs?

Shephard: …

Shephard: I’d save that for later.

---

Eskell: *pitches an idea*

Shephard, impressed: Huh, there might be something here!

Oryn, under their breath and dialling laswell: Yeah, a lawsuit.

---

Horangi : That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Konig?

Konig: No.

Horangi : I think I speak for Konig when I say it sounds really super.

---

Konig: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers?

Horangi : Peonies, why?

Konig:

Horangi : Were you going to get me flowers?

Konig:

Horangi :

Konig: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

---

Horangi : I want a bf.

Konig: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

---

Konig: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Horangi : Okay.

Konig: And make out during the scary parts.

Horangi : Th-

Horangi : The scary parts.

Horangi : Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

---

Horangi , taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child.

Konig, entering the room with a small cut on their ankle: Who the f-

[luckykittens198]

When Your Dad is a Pillar of the Universe 3

Little Kim Rok Soo always know his father was weird. His mother is fine, if a little ditzy. But his father is just weird.

One, his father always have 2 things with him, a crystal pendulum bracelet and an old antique western coin.

Two, his father's eye color changed. Most of the time they were light brown, sometimes they are black, but at certain times they are so dark it felt like lights can't escape from it.

Of course, Little Rok Soo already asked his mother about his father. "Your father's eyes? They used to be dark brown, but after the accident they turned a bit lighter. The Doctors said there could be some damage to his eyes, but everything seems fine so we didn't bother." Little Rok Soo didn't really understand what his mother said but nodded anyway.

Also, his father always speak about weird things. Like the first time Kim Rok Soo went to childcare since his parents have urgent works. "Rok Soo, whatever happens, just call the teacher alright?" he said. Little Rok Soo noted that his father's eyes were a bit darker than usual.

Little Kim Rok Soo noted his father's hands were always trembling. But when his eyes turned dark, the tremble would stop. "Hm? Why not keep my eyes dark you ask? What do you mean by that?" His father ask back.

After Kim Rok Soo explained his reason, his father chuckled. "You are quite the observant child aren't you? Honestly, I don't really like having my eyes going dark as you say."

Kim Rok Soo asked why. "Hm, when my eyes goes dark like that, I can see.... fate, I suppose is the closest one. Let's not tell your mother about this hmm? This is a secret between us men."

Kim Rok Soo didn't understand what fate is. But this is a secret between his father and him! How exciting!

So his father was weird. And that's fine. Kim Rok soo loves him anyway.

Until one day, when Mom was busy packing for their vacation celebrating Kim Rok Soo's 6th birthday, Dad, Father came to Kim Rok Soo's room. His eyes seems to absorb all lights in the room.

"Dad?"

"You've grown well little one. Do you know the meaning of your name?"

"What do you mean?"

"Little Rok Soo. You were born in the time between the end of Fall and the start of Winter. That's why your name is Rok Soo. Green Rok and exceptional, growing Soo.

This is your mother's prayer, and my blessing for you. For you to always grow green even in winter and bloom exceptionally."

Kim Rok Soo is still confused. He didn't understand why his father is acting weirder than usual.

His father chuckled again, "Little one, there will be hardship ahead. As long as you survived through it, you'll certainly find happiness."

"But you will be there, right?"

"Who knows. Who knows what fate will bring," Kim Hyun Woo crouched closer to Kim Rok Soo. He brought Kim Rok Soo's forehead closer to his.

"But know this Kim Rok Soo, you are my son. I won't abandon you without reason."

There was a few seconds of silence between the two. "Dad, you are scaring me," Kim Rok Soo whispered.

Immediately, light returns to Kim Hyun Woo's eyes. He smiled a strange smile, a funny smile, a ridiculous smile. "Sorry, I guess the topic is too heavy. Are you done picking your toys?"

Kim Rok Soo nodded and soon forget this weird conversation. He brought his chosen plush toys to his father.

"I'll bring Mr. Blue Octopus, Mr. Red Socks, and Ms. Dragon!"

"Hahaha! Alright. Let's ask your mother if they can join us!" And so they went.

Later, many years later. a few months before the apocalypse, a man wearing old victorian era suit appear before Kim Rok Soo. He had that weird smile his father gave him before the accident. His eyes too, absorbed all light that enters it.

"We meet again little one. You've grown well."

Prev Next

[fayes-fics]

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex, passing mention of oral sex, all sorts of feelings.

Word Count: 7.9 k I'm so sorry...

Build a blurb prompt 1: Benedict 👅 smut 🌲 mutual pining 🛌 only one bed - from @amillcitygirl Build a blurb prompt 2: modern Benedict 👅smut 👥friends to lovers 🌲mutual pining 🛌only one bed - from anon

Authors Note: *beep beep* make way for the trope bus, it’s coming thru!! Is this original? No. Was it fun to write? Hell YES! This thing was supposed to be 1k follower celebration Drabble (HAHAHA) but it grew its own legs and took over my brain for the last week. This is my winter epic and I even listened to the namesake song as I was editing it. I hope you all enjoy. Betaed by the total trooper @makaylan and beautiful artwork above made especially by @bridgertontess thank you 🧡

“You’ll just have to stay here,” he shrugs, peering out at the falling snow.

You glance at your watch. It’s 5pm and already dark, snowflakes swirling furiously in the glow cast by the window.

This was not your plan. You are booked onto a late flight back to London tonight. You only came out to the beautiful Highlands for a day in nature after your business trip to Glasgow. OK, and a dose of time with the most handsome friend you have, but mainly for the scenery.

He’s rented a tiny cottage for a week as a painting retreat. Why he would do that in early December is a slight mystery. However, the scenery will undoubtedly be even more breathtaking with a blanket of snow tomorrow—an artist's dream.

“Look, the roads here are tiny and treacherous. It’s too risky to attempt the airport drive tonight in the dark in this snowstorm. I will pay for you to fly home tomorrow instead,” Benedict assures, “penance for not checking the forecast before inviting you?” he winces in the hopes of forgiveness.

“But…” you protest weakly, not exactly hating the idea of being trapped in a remote cottage in the mountains with the man who has haunted your dreams for more years than you care to remember.

“This place is warm,” he points to the roaring fireplace. “And well stocked, in more ways than one,” he adds, gesturing to the kitchenette full of supplies and, with a flourish, to the small selection of single malt bottles on a nearby shelf. “There’s even some festive decor,” he argues.

You are entertained that he believes some sprigs of holly, which he has obviously collected on one of his hikes, count as Christmas decorations. Although, to be fair, wrapped around the bookshelves and candles the way it is, it does look lovely.

‘Yes, but… there's also only one bed,” you argue, nodding to the not-exactly sizable double bed at the other end of the room, partially obscured by a room-dividing bookshelf. Even as you mention it, your belly has a warm fizz at the fleeting thought of waking up pressed against him.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” he says hurriedly in a reassuring tone.

“Ben, don't be ridiculous. You are six feet tall, and that thing is barely five. We are not so young we can just sleep anywhere and still be okay anymore,” you remind him.

“Yeah, thanks for that reminder,” he deadpans.

“We are grown-ups; we can share a bed,” trying to keep your tone breezy, but it feels like the reassurance is for yourself as much as him.

You pretend not to see how he swallows thickly at your suggestion, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I can fashion a barrier with some throw cushions,” you shrug, a short nervous laugh bubbling up as you secretly chastise yourself for suggesting such a thing.

“No, no,” he rushes out very quickly. “What I mean is… it’s not a big bed, so by the time we do that, we would both be clinging to the edges. Let’s just, as you say, be adults about this and share the best we can.”

“Agreed.” You give a business-like nod, wanting to change the topic.

“Besides, the night is young,” he states, clapping and rubbing his hands together as if reading your mind. “What do you say we cook dinner together? Then, well, it’s card games or jigsaw puzzles, I’m afraid,” he skews his mouth with an apologetic twist.

“Sounds delightful on all counts,” you assure and bump him with your shoulder.

The evening seems to fly by, and the snowstorm outside somewhat abates as you make a delicious spaghetti bolognese together. Even though it's a tiny kitchen space, you make it work, moving around each other with an almost balletic fluidity as soft music plays from a Bluetooth speaker. There's no Wi-Fi or even much phone signal out here, but he came prepared with songs loaded onto his laptop. You exchange easy chat about mutual friends and what has been happening since you last saw one another a few weeks before.

As you sit down to eat together, the conversation flow continues. It's one of those meals you sop up the sauce from your plate with the warm bread rolls you serve as a side. Lingering in your chairs long after eating is complete, chatting amiably and animatedly about anything, everything and nothing all at once, with a delicious bottle of scotch.

Later, you take turns in the bathroom, cleaning teeth and changing into pyjama bottoms, and then you drift to the living room area. You watch as Benedict pours you both a nightcap into scotch glasses and glance outside to see the storm has picked up again, large clumps of fluffy snow gather in the corner of the window pane; you feel very cosy in this small but perfectly formed little rustic cottage.

“So, how have you been entertaining yourself all alone here for the last four nights?” you inquire, enjoying the smooth, smoky burn of the single malt.

Benedict is now sprawled across the nearby armchair in the most Benedict way, legs akimbo.

“I’ve read two books, and I’ve slept for nine hours every night,” he confesses, taking a sip of his drink and looking at you over the top of his glass.

The room feels like it's getting warmer regardless of the fire; how much is due to the delightful fog of whisky in your veins versus the handsome man across from you is indecipherable.

“Are you not lonely?” you blurt out.

“I live alone in London. What's the difference?” his brow knitting in confusion.

“Alone in the city is very different to alone out here,” you offer, “you can’t be that lonely when you’re only twenty feet from your neighbour through a wall.”

“Hmm, never thought about it like that,” his mien turns thoughtful, scratching his palm on the shadow of stubble on his chin.

You hear the rasp from where you sit, and you almost squeak in surprise as your treacherous mind supplies a vivid snapshot of that stubble teasing the soft skin of your lower belly as he looks up at you with a seductive smirk. You have to shake your head to get rid of it.

“Fear of murder out here is different,” you offer, trying to reroute your thoughts.

“Morbid,” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow with a bemused expression on his face.

“Out here, no one can hear you scream,” you jest, aping the movie line.

He guffaws into his glass. “Sometimes that can be a good thing.”

“Murder?!”

“The ability to scream and not be heard,” he clarifies, his tone markedly more languid than before.

“Painting not going well?” you ask with a chuckle.

“It’s going great, but not what I was referring to,” he argues, and you can’t seem to look away from his mouth all of a sudden.

Damn, how much whisky have you had?

“Had a girl here, Bridgerton?” your venture, a flutter in your chest even as you ask.

“Not until now,” he scoffs, but the intensity in his hazy blue stare causes a riot in your stomach.

You have to look down at your feet before you do something stupid, like climb into his lap and suck on his luscious bottom lip.

“Have you been masturbating loudly?” you quip, still looking down, the thought leaving your lips before you can censor it.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, making you look back at him—big mistake. His eyes look stormy, and you can see a vein in his neck pulsing hard. Like you’ve awoken something.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you stutter even as your mind floods with images of just that—him stroking his cock and panting, preferably your name.

The atmosphere feels a little too thick, and you briefly curl your lip into your mouth and bite it to give yourself something else to focus on.

“More whisky?” you offer, standing up and changing the subject.

“Sure.” He holds out his glass, and you swear his fingers intentionally slot between yours as he passes it to you.

You use the few moments it takes to refill your drinks, with your back turned, to gather your thoughts and slow your breathing. Having served, you sink onto the couch again but intentionally shift to face him more directly. The alcohol makes you bold and intrigued to know where this might go. He seems to do the same, his feet looping over the armchair's edge and almost touching yours.

“Hey, do you remember that summer when we were, l think, maybe twelve and…”

“Excuse me, point of order,” you butt in, “If you were twelve, I was ten. OK? Continue…” you motion with your hands for him to go on.

“Yes, thanks for reminding me I am older,” he snarks and skews his mouth into an affectionate pout.

“You are welcome, old man,” you tease with a slight smirk.

“Well, anyway… do you remember that summer Colin came home with headlice? And Ant’s answer was to shave all of our heads? Mum almost had a heart attack when she walked in on that. She was forever grateful he’d only gotten around to doing us three boys. She might have died if we’d made it down to Daph or El…” he is laughing heartily around his scotch glass at the memory.

“Remember it?!?” you pipe up, “of course I do! Don't you remember you were trying to push me in front of your sisters in Ant’s barber line? You seemed concerned to ensure I either got rid of or never got them in the first place; I don't remember which,” you laugh, an ache of fond nostalgia in your chest at little Benedict.

“Well, of course, I’ve always looked out for you,” he rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You smile a genuinely warm smile at him. He's been a wonderful person in your life for as long as you can remember.

“But you’ve always looked out for me too. I remember you brought me a Malteser every day when I was sick with the mumps.”

“I did?!” your voice incredulous; you do not remember doing so.

“Yes, and I've never forgotten it,” he voices sincerely before he takes a draw of his drink. “But then there is so much about you that is unforgettable, isn't there?” he adds, looking at you with an intensity you don't know what to do with.

“Stop it,” you answer bashfully, embarrassed to meet his gaze, staring beyond his shoulder at the snow falling heavily and sticking to the window in fluffy clumps. “And if we’re on this flattery train, what about you? You think I don’t know it’s been you sending me an ‘anonymous’ rose every single Valentine's Day?”

He gapes at you in surprise. “Wait, how did you know it’s from me?’”

“You are the sweetest person I know. It could never be anyone but you, Ben.” You shrug as if the answer is obvious, “and I know it was never out of pity for the times I’m single because you sent one those years I was with Dan, which used to make him so mad, by the way, and when I was with Julian and Paul….”

“Urgh, Dan deserved to be mad,” his tone dismissive, and his face ticked, “I always hated him.”

“You hated everyone I dated, that you met anyway,” you point out, that fact just dawning on your as you speak it.

“But him the most,” he grouses with a sour expression.

“Why?”

“‘Cos he got the closest to marrying you. And I really didn’t want to have to do that whole stand-up in church and object thing. But, by god, I would have.”

His powerful words stun you; you had no idea how deep his feelings on the subject ran.

“Y… you would?” you stutter.

His eyes are so intense now. Even as he takes a swig, he doesn't look away. “He was not worthy of you,” he declares, slow and deliberate, enunciating each word crisply.

“So, who is?” you ask quietly as you take a sip, the question echoing hollowly in your glass.

“I haven't met anyone yet,” he notes with finality.

You had no idea he had judged every single one of your boyfriends and, what’s more, found all of them to be somehow lacking. In hindsight, he was correct, but he never said anything to you at the time, and you can't decide if you want to hold that against him. It might have saved you a lot of heartache and possibly a lot of money.

“Well, if you meet someone that has the Benedict seal of approval, you’ll be sure to send them my way, yeah?” you volley, your voice light.

He breaks into a smile that makes something flutter strong in your ribcage.

“Certainly. I hope you don't mind waiting until possibly your eighties for me to find a worthy suitor,” he jokes.

“Oh god, really?” you groan, “but I can’t not have sex until then,” you lament and kick your legs out as if in a fit of pique.

“Oh, you can have all the sex you want,” he lobbies back, waving his hand dismissively, “you just can’t fall in love,” his eyes twinkle with mischief you’ve always found beguiling.

“Duly noted,” you giggle.

There is a beat where you just look at each other with a shared fondness that makes your heart ache a little—perhaps under different circumstances, he could be the one person worthy of you, as he puts it.

“Well, that is the last log on the fire dying down. I'm not going out in that damn snow to fetch more, so I think the safest thing to do is get under the covers before it gets too cold in here.” he opines.

“Ben, it's 10:30 pm… really?” you whine, “are you really going to bed already, grandpa?” but as you complain, you stifle a yawn.

“Haha, I saw that yawn!” he retorts triumphantly, “and I've got news for you, missy. You are going to bed too.” He grabs both of your hands and easily hauls you off the sofa.

“Why?!?” you scoff but are secretly enthralled when he rounds behind you, his sizable hands landing warm on your hips and propelling you towards the bedroom area.

“Because I’m not having you crawl under the covers later bringing in all that cold air with you, nope, no thank you, not happening,” he chimes over your shoulder.

“So I have to go to bed now?!” you throw your hands up in the air, but he keeps propelling you forward.

“Yup,” he grins, popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously.

You capitulate with a weary sigh. “Urghhh, fine. But I will be up reading for a few more hours, so I hope you can sleep with the light on.”

“Fine with me,” he chuckles, herding you towards the bed. “I once slept in your dorm room when your flatmate was having a full-on dance party. I think I can sleep through your reading.”

You collapse onto the bed giggling at that memory, tugging off your shoes and socks but nothing else as he does the same. He pulls the covers back, and you both settle under, still in your fleecy jumpers. Without your socks, however, your feet feel freezing, and with a wicked grin, you cook up a solution.

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with your feet?!? Why are they so cold!!” he exclaims as your toes wrap around his exposed ankle.

He twists to try and get away from you, but your feet chase him under the covers, you laughing, him shrieking.

“My hands are cold too,” you chortle, clamping them onto his surprisingly muscular forearm.

He squeals in the most undignified manner, trying to shake your grip, but you just limpet on harder, giggling in that way only tipsy people do.

There is the most delightful resulting tussle, him trying to wrestle your hands and feet away as you try your damndest to keep them on him—the duvet entwining around all of your limbs.

You end up with his weight and warmth partially on top of you, pinning you down, him triumphantly ensnaring your wrists and holding your hands firmly onto the pillow. Your joint heavy breathing and giggles slowly die out as you stare at each other. Your faces have never been so close before. You have no doubt your pupils are as blown as his, and you are certain that he can feel the racing heartbeat at your wrists where he pins you down. His breath is warm on your cheek.

After a few silent moments, his gaze drops to your mouth; he suddenly mutters an apology and starts to pull away.

As if in slow motion, you push up and press your lips to his. You are not thinking at all, just going with your instinct. His lips are warm and plush, and you want more. So much more.

You feel the moment his whole body freezes; he is stunned in the truest sense of the word.

You pull back quickly, sinking into the pillow under him.

“Oh god. I’m so, so sorry,” you whisper, mortified, “please forgive me, I….”

Your words die out as he makes a noise you’ve never heard before. It seems to come from deep inside him, making every hair on your body stand on end.

Then he is on you. Closing the gap between you and capturing your lips with a passion that steals your breath and thoughts. He is kissing so hard, so quickly, you feel lightheaded, pressing you into the mattress under his body. His lips open over yours, his tongue teasing against your lips. He tastes of toothpaste, traces of whiskey and something that is all him, and you flood your underwear; there's also a noise from your throat that doesn’t sound human. He kisses like a storm, hot and electric, and you want to drown in him.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere, and so yours follow suit. It’s a desperate clambering of wanting more. Before you can completely acknowledge it, his hands are questing under your jumper, squeezing your waist, sliding up and over your bra, and tweaking a nipple as his tongue parries with yours.

“Please, please take this off,” he implores passionately into your mouth, tugging at your top. His voice, this close and breathless, is lethal. He is everywhere, surrounding and covering you, and your focus narrows to just him as he sits up to peel off his jumper and t-shirt together, exposing his torso. You freeze. Your arms crossed, halfway through taking off yours.

“Fucking hell,” you exhale before you can stop yourself.

You figured Benedict would be in shape from the feel of his body when you hug, but you haven't seen him shirtless in a long time, and just how much in shape he is, is a revelation. He smiles demurely at your outburst, which makes you want him even more if that were possible.

“Take yours off,” he sounds impatient, and you realise you are still frozen in the same position. You quickly whip yours over your head; his responding noise is your new favourite sound. You feel so grateful you only brought nice underwear on this trip; your lacy bra appears to work for him.

“The knickers match,” you murmur, revelling in the flash in his eye.

You grab his hand and move it to the drawstring on your pyjamas. His long slender fingers pluck the bow tied there; his gaze is on your face the whole time, his kiss-damp lips glowing softly in the low light. You breathe deeply and can’t look away from his captivating face. When the string relents, he winks. Rather than pull them down, his hand quests inside and between your legs.

You gasp and buck up off the pillow as warm, strong fingers press on your clit through the lacy fabric. You know he can feel your heat, just how wet the material is.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he rumbles low and sinful as his fingers tease a circle over your clit. “Although this seems unreal - I half assume I’m going to wake up in a minute with my hand wrapped around my cock, alone.”

Hearing him say the word cock makes you moan. He licks his lips, and his fingers curl firmer on you.

“Tell me this is real; I’m not dreaming again,” he pleads fervently, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing your air. He is achingly beautiful this close up, his eyes just a thin ring blazing around dark inky pupils staring into your depths. This man has always been able to make you feel seen, but this close, this intense, it feels like he’s peering into your soul.

“You’re not dreaming, Ben,” you reply shakily, trying not to lose all composure at what the word ‘again’ might imply as he gradually tortures you with unhurried, steady movements.

He is watching your face, so closely observing, cataloguing your micro-expressions. His fingers move, spidering along the lace trim before pushing under the fabric this time, sliding down through your trimmed pubic hair and into your naked, soaked folds.

“Ben!” You call out, grasping that strong forearm again, biting your lip and staring into his fiery gaze.

“What do you need?” he questions. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked you that in bed.

“You,” you reply honestly.

“You have me, 110% you have me,” he asserts in a tone that melts something in your chest. “As if you don't know it, you’ve had me for many years,” he admits as his hand slides lower. You cry out as he pushes two fingers just a fraction inside you.

“Fuck, you are on fire,” he exclaims, a shaky exhale across your lips.

“Only for you,” you answer, knowing you’ve never been this turned on before in your life.

He growls, actually growls. And then his lips are back on yours in the most potent kiss yet. You pulse around him and groan into his mouth as he sinks his fingers deeper. When the kiss ends, you glance down your body, seeing the stiff peaks of your nipples poking insistently through the lace and his sinewy forearm buried into your pyjama bottoms.

“Do you like what you see?” his voice a velvety tease.

“I’d like it even more if we were naked,” you respond honestly.

He chuckles at that, and his lips descend, dropping light kisses down your neck as his fingers tease you, surging in and out of your body so achingly slow. His thumb rests on your clit, a little nudge of pressure every time his fingers rock into your channel.

“I need to make you come like I need air,” he confesses, his voice resonant, his warm breath skittering over the sensitive skin of your throat. It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“Please do…” it’s a quiet plea.

You feel the curve of his cheek as he smiles, and the fingers inside you flex.

“I suppose if you’d like to be more naked, then I’d better strip you down first,” he remarks, gently withdrawing his fingers.

Warm hands hook into your underwear, and he scooches away, pulling them down your legs, taking your PJs with them. Suddenly, the image that flashed in your mind earlier becomes a reality, his stubbly chin grazing your belly as he crawls back over you.

“You look amazing,” he sighs over your belly button and leans his forehead on your stomach as he takes a deep breath. “You smell it too.”

He runs his nose and lips over your skin as he surges up and nuzzles your bra, pleading with his eyes for you to remove it as he pulls the straps down over your arms, kissing along the lacy cup edge.

When his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you grab his hair and push up against him, the swoop of sensation in your belly like riding a rollercoaster, the thrill tingling along the back of your scalp.

He moves to lay beside you, and you watch the duvet move as he strips off his bottoms under it. Suddenly there is a thick wave of body heat as he rolls next to you; you feel something sizeable and solid brand your hip.

“Oh, Ben,” slips out on instinct, but he stops your questing hand.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head and smirks at your corresponding pout. “When you have come, preferably screaming, then you can touch my cock. Okay?”

You physically feel the shiver down your spine at that line. Who even says things like that?

He smiles against your temple as he slips his fingers back into you, and you moan at the sensation. He curls his body around you, legs twining around your right one to hold you open. That cock is still rigid on your hip; it feels sizeable and delicious.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing a circle over your clit his fingers stroking in a come hither motion.

“This… exactly what you are doing,” you reply breathlessly, “just please don't stop and maybe go a little harder?” you request timidly.

He smirks and pushes his fingers deeper; his motions get stronger and faster. You close your eyes and nod, licking your lips.

“Yes, that oh god Ben, thattttt,” you stumble as his magical fingers spiral you higher.

When they jab a spot inside, a bloom of pleasure hits you, and your eyes fly open, going wide.

“Oh, that’s the spot,” he preens, redoubling his efforts as you start to pant loudly, clinging to his arm and whining his name—the hot and intense pleasure building remarkably fast.

“That’s it come on,” he encourages, whispering into your hairline right above your ear; his tone is both soothing and achingly filthy.

“Ben… I,” your words morph into needy noises, drunk on the sensations rippling through your body, fanning out from his fingers buried inside you.

“Yes, yes,” he hisses, “you’re close now; I can feel it. Look at me,” he orders.

And you do. Mouth hanging open, squirming on his fingers, feeling something primal washing over you. His eyes burn into yours.

“Don’t fight it,” he warns.

It's almost like permission; you feel something inside you give way. You scream loudly as a tide of orgasm washes over you. Blood rushes in your ears, and you feel his leg bear down over the apex of your thigh, holding your pelvis onto the bed as you cry and convulse. Your body fights his fingers, trying to push them out as your whole channel clenches in strong waves.

After a few moments of deep breaths, you open your eyes, and he kisses your cheek, then your lips.

“Wow… that was…. absolutely amazing,” he confides, kissing more. “And it's a damn good thing no one can hear us here. You scream like a horror movie queen, and I mean that with all the very best compliments.”

You laugh a little abashed and bury your face into his armpit, loving the smell of his deodorant and just him.

“Your turn,” you mumble, deciding to be bold and snake a hand down your side to grab his cock at your hip.

It’s large and thick enough your fingers don’t quite meet when you wrap around it. It makes your insides melt at the thought of how it would feel sliding into you. He makes the neediest huffing noises as you twist onto your side to face him and begin an unhurried rhythm, watching that pretty cock twitch in your hand.

You tease him with a gentle twisting motion, squeezing a little as you reach his head, swiping a thumb over the bead of precum that appears, gently massaging his frenulum as he lets out a faint moan. His hand covers yours, stilling your movements.

“This is so wonderful, but I need you to stop if you want sex. Do you want to… have sex?” he asks so demurely your heart clenches.

“Yes, Ben, please,” you whisper.

“I didn't bring any condoms with me,” he says quietly, “I didn't think I’d meet another soul up here, let alone well…” he trails off, pitching forward, so his lips are warm on your cheek.

“I didn't either, but I'm on the Pill,” you shrug. You've never had first-time sex without a condom, but this man isn't a stranger; he's a lifelong friend, and you trust him with your life.

“I know,” he says softly, kissing your nose.

“Wait, how do you know that?” your brow knitting lightly.

“I know everything about you,” he asserts against your skin, staring into your eyes. “How you take your tea - English breakfast before 2pm, Earl Grey after, both with milk and one sugar. I know how the tip of your tongue here,” he softly trails his nose over the corner of your mouth, “sticks out of your mouth when you type on your laptop. I know you always loop your glasses into the neckline of your top,” a finger tracing gently over the swell of your breast, “and somehow always forget they are there and have a ten-second panic every time.” He laughs gently. “I even know how you prefer plain Hobnobs over chocolate; I have no idea why, and you are so wrong on that, by the way,” he shoots you a devastating lopsided grin. “And I know you are on the Pill because I've watched you take them religiously for years; when I stay at yours, and you make coffee in the morning, it’s the first thing you take before your multivitamin.”

His casual recounting of so many little, human things that make you, you, astounds you. This man knows you better than you know yourself, and you get a weird swooping sensation in your chest. Of elation that you've finally figured it out, he might just be the one - your human, but also a crushing regret you haven't done so sooner. You could have been doing this, intimately entwined with this wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive, handsome man, for so many years.

Not wanting to waste any more opportunity and so very desperate to have him inside you, you use all your strength to roll him onto his back and climb on top. Surprised and aroused, he looks up at you devotedly, his pupils blown wide.

Silently and without breaking eye contact, you reach between your bodies, line up his weeping beautiful cock, and sink onto him without another thought. The needy noise he makes is like poetry.

He feels perfect, and you close your eyes to revel in being stretched around him, a solid hot presence filling you up and holding you so open. Just the perfect length and girth for you, almost like his cock was made for you.

Warm hands grasp your hips, and your eyes fly open and look down at him, his expression pleading with you to move. Gradually you rise up, then drop down just once, savouring the sensations as he drags against your walls.

“You feel perfect,” he groans “please….”

You know what he is asking, begging for - more. Something in you wants to draw this out, go so achingly slow both of you get mindless. Luxuriate in this carnal, sensual meeting.

“Talk to me,” you implore, starting a leisurely pace.

“What about?” you watch him glance down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into you as you sink down.

“Talk to me, Ben,” you repeat but pointedly, grabbing his chin to look at you and raising an eyebrow.

There's a lightbulb of understanding behind his eyes, and that killer crooked smile spreads across his face.

“You like my voice, don't you?” he says, pitched low, and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands as leverage for your movements.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, gasping as the pleasure grows between your legs just as he says those few words.

“I know,” he smirks, “I’ve known for years.”

You look at him in surprise. “Wait, how?” you breathe, disbelieving.

He grabs your shoulders and pulls you down on top of him: so much heat and warm flesh.

“I have noticed your pupils dilate every time I drop my voice just like this,” he murmurs low and sinful into your ear. “The temptation to say so many dirty things has been so strong. God, I love it when you are aroused, and you think you can hide it. I knew you were getting wet; it would take all my willpower not to grab and kiss you senselessly. Especially those days when you are only in a little floaty skirt, I could actually smell it. Delicious and sweet and so fucking sexy. That little squirm you would do. How you move your body is fucking sinful. And now I get to enjoy it. You riding me like this. Fuck, if this isn't every fantasy I've ever had coming true.”

By the time his filthy soliloquy is done, you are panting hard, not from the exertion as you rock on him but the way he has pushed you so close to orgasm with so little effort - just his voice and words.

“Ben,” you shudder, “I….” words fail as you feel your body flush.

“I can feel you are fluttering. Are you going to come so soon?” he exhales, impressed. “Oh god, please, please do it,” he urges. “I need to feel it.”

You sit up and reach down to touch your clit, and he swears at the sight. You are tipping over the edge, stilling your movement as you sit with him at your hilt and clench around him. He feels impossibly huge inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” he groans long and loud, clenching his teeth. You know he is also fighting the urge to come, wanting this to last much longer.

Greedy for more, for another stronger climax, you go to move again, but he stops you.

“Please don't move, not yet,” he pleads, grabbing your hips and quelling your movement. “I need… a few moments, please.”

You smile down at him indulgently and link your hands again, bringing the back of his hand to your mouth and kissing it delicately. Then to be a tease, you envelop his middle finger in your mouth, running your tongue over it, tasting his tangy skin. He growls as you add his pointer finger and suck hard, staring down at him heatedly.

“This isn't really helping,” he warns reluctantly with a playful pout.

You let his fingers slip out of your mouth and guide his hand to your breasts, pressing his now-damp fingers against your nipple. He enthusiastically grips your flesh, and you throw your head back and moan as he teases your sensitive buds, pinching them between his fingertips. You gyrate your hips, dragging his tip against your cervix.

There is another growl, and suddenly you are tipped over onto the mattress, him still buried inside you. He grabs your legs and loops his arms under them, pulling your body so open under him.

“Hold onto me… twine your arms around me,” he instructs.

You do, fingers digging into his smooth, muscular torso. Panting in anticipation; at the feel of him holding you down, his pelvis crushed against your engorged clit.

He begins to move, and you can't help but make noises; he just overwhelms all your senses. His kisses, his skin, his arms, your legs held high and wide. He is almost delicate in his motion, but you can tell he is holding back.

“Don't be too gentle, Ben,” you beg, bringing one hand up to cup his jaw and running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Please just fuck me.”

His mouth captures your thumb, and you gasp as he spears into you hard. You hiss your approval as he crowds over you to kiss you fiercely. Then everything is a haze as your mind switches off, and you are rooted in your body, chasing sensation as he takes you hard. He feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as you lay under him, pinned and almost helpless to this onslaught but wanting nothing more than being right where you are. For a first time together, it’s not awkward or timid; it's exciting and mindblowing but somehow still safe, knowing you can trust him with everything, including your body.

Between kisses, there are whispered encouragements against lips and hands grasping so tight to each other as movements become more frantic and fast. He is hitting your clit on each stroke and panting, so present in the moment, eyes boring into yours. You know he is so close, hanging by a thread when he screws his eyes shut and pleads with you to come with him. A few more strokes and it is happening, your orgasm hitting you hard and breaking over your body in waves, fanning out from your core as you clench around him, making your muscles spasm and your toes curl. You feel him coming hard, too, a warm bloom inside you as he jerks a few heavy thrusts, then stills, mouth open over yours and huffing gulps of air as he twitches.

After a few moments of deep breaths and slumped limbs, he pulls his face up to kiss you tenderly.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you giggle and nod your head. “Why haven't we been doing that for the last god knows how many years?” he shakes his head, his voice a little ragged and rough-edged.

“I don't know, but we should be doing a lot more of it,” you respond brightly, “make up for lost time?”

He laughs warmly and agrees, taking his weight off you and rolling and rearranging your bodies so you are both on your sides, facing each other, hands laced together, noses touching. And that is how you fall asleep.

—

You awaken to dazzling sunlight streaming in, reflecting off all the snow. You wince against the brightness and clamp your eyes shut, burrowing back into Benedict. You feel surrounded, in the best sense of the word. He is a warm solid presence behind your back, an arm slung around the dip of your waist, a hand curled around your breast, legs entangled, downy hair tickling your calves. And best of all, a hard cock nestles the back of your thighs. You flex your hips and shuffle until his tip is poised right at your entrance. He stirs, and there is a hot exhale on the back of your neck.

“Get inside me, please,” you petition quietly, voice scratchy from sleep.

Wordlessly, he rolls his hips, surging into your body in one swift stroke. You moan so loudly that he huffs a laugh, then stills, buried inside you.

“Now go back to sleep,” he grumbles affectionately, arm pulling you into him tighter, your whole body flush to his, curling his legs up so you are almost in the fetal position.

“Like this?!” your tone incredulous, as his fingernails trace an idle ellipsis around your areola.

“Mmm hmmm,” his hum vibrates into your spine.

“Bennnn…” you protest, clenching around him, so he groans deeply.

“I promise to fuck you so hard you forget your name… later, if you let me sleep just a little more,” he proposes, nuzzling your hair.

What a lovely thought. You lay still in his arms for a few minutes, but his cock holding you open is far too distracting.

“Bennn…” you try again.

“Shhhhh…” he reacts, but you can tell he's not sleepy anymore; there is a smile on the nape of your neck.

“You feel too good; I can’t sleep,” you whine, slightly petulant.

“You’re not even trying,” he chuckles richly.

“You can't do this to me,” you wheedle, your breath hitching triumphantly as he tilts his pelvis and slips a fraction deeper.

“If I fuck you right now, will you stop complaining?” his tone laced with amusement.

“Hmmm, maybe,” you shoot back, twisting to glance at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes dancing with mirth.

Your lips meet, and it's a breathy passionate kiss, all open mouths and tongues, teasing each other and fighting for dominance.

As your mouths dance, he starts to move at a languid pace, just rocking into your body gently, and it’s the best wake-up you have ever had. You cover his hand on your breast, and he intuits what you are asking, squeezing the swell, your nipple snagged between his middle and pointer finger. You break the kiss, and his teeth gently skim the cord on your neck as he speeds up a little.

“Will you wake me up like this every day, please?” you sigh, not thinking about the implications of your words, just drunk on the sensation.

“Happily,” he rumbles and spears a little stronger, making you call out his name.

“The sound I really want to wake up to though….” his voice teasing and low. “is this one…” and his hand slips from your breast to between your legs.

You moan and writhe in his strong hold, little sparks of pleasure firing where he touches.

“That’s it, that’s the sound,” he encourages as you both move together in sync.

It’s a wonderfully sensual experience, growing in intensity until he rolls you over onto your front, still inside you, fucking into you from behind, covering your entire body with his. His hand is trapped between your body and the mattress while teasing your clit.

“Oh god, Ben,” you cry as he seems to slide deeper than ever, your thigh trapped shut together, his legs bracketing yours, using all his effort to drive into you, the tone shifting from languid to vigorous. You’ve never been taken in this position before, and at this angle, he is hitting all the right spots inside you to make your eyes roll back and bite the pillow.

It hurtles you fast, beginning to pant raggedly, and you urge him on, asking for more and harder, and he obliges, thrusting so strong your whole body rolls and the bed squeaks loudly in protest. Your voice becomes one long moaning sound; you are pushing back onto his cock as much as possible, a chorus of please don't stop as he drives you fast towards a climax. His body is bowed, breathing hot puffs of air across your upper back, with an occasional kiss, his lips soft and wet.

He holds you on a precipice for a moment; you crane to look back at his face pleadingly; his expression is wild and so gorgeous it catches your breath.

“You are magnificent,” he rasps against your skin.

Then the hand not on your clit suddenly spanks your butt cheek while his teeth sink into the top of your trapezius muscle, pushing you over the edge, calling his name as you pulsate hard around him. Him grunting and thrusting deeper, fighting your clenching muscles. Then he stills, and every muscle tenses as he empties into your body, almost shaking from the intensity.

He collapses onto your back, breathing in wracked sounds.

“Fucking hell,” you both say almost in unison, then giggle at your matching assessment of the experience.

He pulls out of you reluctantly and flops down onto the mattress to your left, wrapping an arm around you and manoeuvring so are the little spoon once again.

“That was intense,” he voices, and you make a noise of agreement, lacing your fingers with his and holding your joined hands up, watching his fingers sink between yours and curve over, his fingertips resting on your palm.

“We are awesome at sex,” you opine. Benedict chuckles at that, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “And you know what that means?”

“What?” his tone lilting.

“We just have to keep doing it all the time,” you observe with a mock, burdened sigh.

���What a terrible hardship for us,” he concurs with an ironic laugh, nuzzling your neck with a grin on his face. __

Half an hour later, you have showered together - which proved almost as distracting as morning sex until the hot water tank ran out, and you jumped out squealing as the water turned ice cold - and are now leisurely making brunch. You both only wear towelling robes you stole from your Glasgow hotel room, the fireplace roaring again. You agree to go for a walk in the snow later, neither of you mentioning booking your flight home.

“Wait, why is this sofa so bloody uncomfortable” you bemoan, taking a sip of coffee and flicking idly through a book you took from a shelf. “I don't remember it being this bad last night,” you ponder aloud.

“Well, you had had a couple of whiskeys by then,” Benedict points out as he cooks an amazing-smelling breakfast a few feet away in the kitchenette.

“True, but honestly, what is going on with it?” you grumble, putting the book aside, not yet sufficiently caffeinated.

“Sofa beds tend not to be comfortable. As either a sofa or a bed,” he rattles out, flipping a slice of bacon in the pan.

You grind to a halt in your efforts to get comfy.

“Sofa bed…?” You echo out loud.

He suddenly freezes and realises what he has admitted.

“Benedict bloody Bridgerton!!” you exclaim loudly, standing up, “did you trick me into sharing your bed?!?”

He turns around slowly, knowing he is foiled and pulls a sheepish face.

“Yeahhhh, a lil bit…” he admits as you gape at him, attempting his most winning remorseful smile. “But, in my defence…” he adds, waving the spatula, “you are the one who kissed me first. I just stacked the deck; you drew the first card.”

He expertly swerves the cushion you throw at him before flicking off the stove and pushing aside the pan.

“Right…” he charges at you as you squeal.

He corners you with ease in the compact space and throws you over his shoulder.

“We are using this stupid sofa bed right now,” he instructs and, rather attractively, casually flicks a handle on the side with his foot to open it. He practically throws you onto the (admitted thin, rather uncomfortable) bed and tugs open your robe, snaking his way down your body and throwing your legs over his shoulder, shooting you a molten hot gaze from between your thighs.

You have no arguments with this development. None whatsoever.

—

You return to that tiny cottage every year for that same week as a ritual—a little private anniversary. Sometimes you stay through New Year, just the two of you ringing in the entire festive season.

He buys it for you as a wedding gift, and you cry at the sentimentality of the man buying you the place you first got together. (One thing you do early on - buy a new, comfortable sofa.)

It becomes a haven for your lives together, even when you have to bring cots and camp beds for your children, all sleeping communally in that one room. (You don’t tell them, but all of your children are named after characters in an obscure old book he finds hidden in the rafters when you are renovating while pregnant with your firstborn.)

Nothing brings you more joy than when you can escape to that little cottage in the Highlands. You never tell anyone besides your children where it is—it’s your escape, your sanctuary. The “somewhere only we know,” as Benedict always called it.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

[culxiaa-fn]

[Mark of Love]

There is a theory, a fairy tale about how mole is where the places where your past lovers frequently left a kiss. Ace thinks it's ridiculous, ridiculously "cringe" and ridiculously Sappy. Yet Ace out of all people knew it, no matter how much he denied.

This comes from one theory that is quite popular. Kantokusei is looped by someone's magic. Also the moles(?) The location is based on my own body HAHAHA I'm forcing myself to look at my own body while showering then i noticed I have quite a lot of beauty marks. I have no idea why I'm writing ngl very self indulgent.

- Fem&AFAB!reader

|| slight suggestive, nothing serious it's just Ace being bratty. Slight Angst at the end(?)|| Hint that kantokusei's death || Ace Trappola return by death era ||

--- Masterlist ---

Everyone got one or two moles on their body either its an easily visible area or more hidden one.

There is a tale, a bed time story, an old wives tales- how beauty mark is the place where your past lovers like to kiss.

Ridiculous, Ace thought it was ridiculous- nothing more nothing less, it's just a silly story.

Yet, when lying on the bed with her right by his sides, kantokusei is showing all her moles. The areas where he knew the best.

After all... There's no smoke without fire... All fairy tales come from somewhere that hold some sort of truth. And Ace out of all people knows this, tiny dots across kantokusei body, like an artist painting on his empty canvas.

Of course he knew, of course he remembered, he is the one that left those marks afterall.

Lower right, below your lips

Ace loves to tease kantokusei, he lives for her angry faces, the grumpy hufs and he loves when kantokusei sulk about it.

Call him sadist or anything, but lives for her angry pout quietly sulking refuse to admit her loss.

But it won't be long, Ace despite his words of being chosen is often very provocative, and when he wears that extremely annoying and punchable smirk, he has this charm that allows him to easily win people.

Ace:"Neeeee~ kantokusei, I'm sorry... Stop giving me a cold shoulder. I'm a very sensitive person you know?? "

[name]:"..."

Ace: " come on, it's been a while since we spent time together without anyone bothering us, are you sure you want to spend it like this??"

Ace: "I will give you a kiss, So can you stop sulking? I'm sorry okay..?? I will replace the pudding that I ate so yeah? Come on~"

Slowly Ace comes closer, purposely he misses her lips.

[name]: " Hmm..., don't tease.."

Ace:v" mm? I won't give it unless you forgive me~"

On right shoulder

Ace is by no means a genius, but that doesn't make him a hardworking person either.

I mean studying is tiring you know?? All these numbers and names that he has to memorize??

The warmth from his girlfriend and the softness of the bed is not helping him at all.

Yet, his girlfriend is just annoyingly hardworking.

And Ace had enough, who studies when their boyfriend is right here?? Normal people already gave up 30 minutes ago right??? Yet why is his girlfriend still stubbornly refusing to rest?

If being whiny is not enough then times to plan B.

Ace: "kantokusei~ we have been studying for a while now... Let's take a nap?"

*kiss* *kiss*

[name]: "you mean me right? You have been procrastinating"

Ace: " It's very comfortable right now, we still have 2 days until the test. Let's take a nap?"

Moving her hair out of his way, his lips connected to the exposed area.

*kiss* *kiss*

[name]: "Ace, you are distracting"

Inner left thigh

Running while it's pouring is really not a good idea. In Ace's defence, the planning part is usually done by Kantokusei, I mean there is a reason why Rook-senpai call Kantokusei "trickster".

And Kantokusei managed to trick Azul ffs of course he left the thinking part to her.

But Kantokusei is tired from thinking today, they just finished their magic history test after all, so Ace being a good boyfriend he is will help kantokusei do the thinking.

Doesn't mean it's a good idea- and now they are soaking.

[name]:"Ace, do you have extra pants or shorts?? My laundry didn't make it-"

Ace & [name]:"where's your clothes?" "where's your pants?”

Ace: Woah woah, aren't it a bit early to be seducing me?? Kantokusei so lewd~

[name]: where's YOUR clothes?!

Ace: now, now I'm not the problem here. You see many shirtless guys around here- Kantokusei you have to be careful you know? Men are wolves.

Ace Trappola can never take his eyes off this person, either from a sheer absurdity of some words that left her mouth, or to make sure this person didn't get in any unnecessary trouble, Ace can't avert his eyes from this person.

When they start dating, Ace finds out one thing about him that surprises even himself. He is clingy, and craves kantokusei's hand on his body and his hands on her body.

Either by secretly entwining their hand under their desk, to keep his hand on her shoulder, Ace needs some form of contact.

Now in all her glory, thighs exposed, Ace feels like a very deprived virgin. And not any languages or words can explain what possesses him to pin her on the sofa and bite kantokusei's thigh.

Two above left eyebrow

Ace is far from "boyfriend" materials in fact he is far from it. In fact people have said to him he has a very irritating personality and punchable face.

Ace is not a perfect boyfriend, every word that leaves his mouth can be irritating. Every time he speaks it very much has the potential to pissed some off.

Yet at this time when her tears drop on his hand, it sears his skin, every chocked sobs feels like a sword piercing his heart.

At times like this, Ace wishes he was good with words so he could stop those tears from flowing out of her eyes.

Instead, Ace left a faint kiss above her eyes, no Ace won't ask her to stop crying, Ace knows how frustrated it can be. Instead he hoped this clumsy action could bring some sort of comfort to her.

In the middle of the ring finger at right palm

Again, it happens again. Smoke, fire, collapse building, aching all over his body, blood stained his hand and distant sounds of a monster growling. How many times has Ace seen this sight? How many times has he been through this.

He has to- he NEED to find her. Only kantokusei can calm that spoiled cat. Only kantokusei can stop that damn cat from throwing tantrums.

Ah, again and again and again and again and again. Ace is sick seeing this view. Red everything is red.

Ace thinks red suits her, but not this kind of red. The jam from the unbirthday party tart, the red roses where they painted it together, the red mark Ace put on her face as a joke to make them match.

Ace thinks red suits her because red is his signature color. But this, Ace feels like he's gonna throw up.

Ah but he did throw up didn't he? The first few times he saw this sight.

Again he failed, again and again and again. Just what does he have to do?? Grim's rampage will be stopped later, he knows, just how many times do you think he has been through this. That's good right? A monster is defeated by a knight, that's how a fairy tale goes right?? That's when they reach their happy ending right??

Ace is selfish, he won't let this world have their happy ending without her, even if it means having to go through this hell a few hundred times more.

[name]: "Ace..."

Ace: "hey, dont talk, save your energy"

[name] : "Ace, grim... "

Ace: " worry about yourself right now"

[name]: "Ace....? What are you doing..?"

Ace: "sorry, forgive me. I'm so sorry. Let's meet again later okay? In front of the Great Seven statue remember? We always meet there"

And so with a kiss on her palm. A promise, an oath.

Ace think the world can go fuck themselves.

If it means going through this hundreds or even thousands times so he can achieve the ending where both her and the world save that he will do it.