#watching the love of your life getting shot in front of you and getting doused in his blood sure is a great look huh

[buckera]

EVAN BUCKLEY + close-up 6/?

[demonpiratehuntress]

How the Straw Hats React to Your Period

Includes: OPLA!Zoro, OPLA!Sanji, OPLA!Luffy, OPLA!Usopp, f!reader

A/N: I actually have a one-shot written of Zoro's reaction to your period, which I'll post after this. But I hope you enjoy reading this :)

ZORO

"NO! NO! (NAME) I'M SORRY!"

Luffy's loud scream was what woke the swordsman from his nap today, one of his eyes shooting open to see what the fuss was about. Luffy zipped across the deck in front of him, holding onto his hat for dear life as you chased him around with a kitchen knife, curses and threats spewing past your lips.

"Luffy! Get back here!"

Zoro looked at Nami and Sanji, who were watching the scene while trying to stifle giggles. Usopp was behind Sanji, visibly shaking. The swordsman turned his gaze back to you and Luffy, where you were handling the captain by the collar of his vest. Before you could do anything to him, however, Zoro grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

"What now-" You turned, your eyes widening when you saw your boyfriend. "Zoro-"

"Why are you trying to kill our captain?" He asked, then paused. "Okay let me rephrase. Why do you have a knife?"

You suddenly burst into tears, and for the first time since Kaya's mansion, Zoro jumped in fright and alarm. It didn't take long for your face to be a mess of tears, and you were babbling something he couldn't hear through your sobs.

"Calm down," he let go of your wrist and gently took the knife away from you, handing it to Luffy before feeling you suddenly smack his arm. "What was that for?"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" You yelled, still crying but now very irritated. "He ate my food!"

"So?"

"So Sanji made it especially for me!" You whined. "He knows what I like on my period!"

At the mention of Sanji, Zoro growled and lifted you up, tossing you over his shoulders, "I also know what you like."

Minutes later, you were laying on his chest in his hammock, after he had brought you some more food and something to drink. He was lazily rubbing over your uterus, which he had learned - after three of your periods - calmed you down. You were content for now, eating an insane amount of food and cuddling your boyfriend, but he couldn't deny that he was a little afraid of you during these times. Still, he did his best to make sure you were okay, knowing how badly you cramped and how much pain your body was in during these days. Whatever you asked of him, he did without complaint.

SANJI

No one had seen you for hours now. That usually wouldn't be a problem, if it wasn't the middle of the day and if you didn't usually spend this time learning how to fish from Sanji. Everyone except Nami seemed to be confused, but she wouldn't tell anyone what was going on, too busy reading her charts. So your boyfriend decided to check for himself, regretting not coming sooner when he saw what state you were in.

"My love, what's wrong?"

The cook was by your side in an instant, his ears now picking up on the soft groans and whimpers you were letting out. You were clearly in pain, but you didn't want to lift your head up to tell him why. He had to gently remove the blanket from your face, and cup your cheek in his hand.

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Food," you mumbled, before groaning again and burying your face in his thigh. "And you."

That didn't really make any sense, but it didn't matter to Sanji. He didn't want to leave you alone while you were in pain, so he quickly brought a cloth he had doused in hot water and laid it over your uterus, knowing heat would help the pain. Then he kissed your forehead and promised the food would come soon, before rushing off to make your favourite.

"Where's (Name)?" Luffy asked Sanji, coming into the kitchen. "Haven't seen her all day."

"She's resting," the cook answered, before slapping the captain's hand away from the food. "That's for her."

Luffy was about to protest, but then he turned and went down to your room to check on you. Sanji would have warned him, but he was already gone before he could.

What came next was a loud bang and a the unmistakable sound of someone hitting the wooden walls of the ship. Followed by a dazed groan. Sanji tried not to laugh as Luffy came stumbling back into the kitchen, his eyes wide.

"What did you do?"

"I poked her cheeks until she told me what was wrong."

"Did she tell you?"

"No, but she punched me."

Sanji did laugh then, watching Luffy go back out to bother someone else - probably Zoro - as he gathered up the plate and hot drink he had prepared for you and went back to your room. He set the food and drink down, slipped into the bed next to you, and brought you close as he fed you the food and kept the heated cloth in place over your uterus. He was aware of how painful these few days were for you, so he tried his best to make it at least a little easier. And he always did.

LUFFY

THE MOST OBLIVIOUS MAN TO EVER LIVE. This guy has no idea what's in store for him, and he has no idea how to deal with it either. He can't help his annoying nature, but when you get your period he tries his best to shut up sometimes. Sometimes. He can't keep up with your mood swings, and even less with your cramps, but he tries. The poor guy. You always feel so bad after your periods, knowing you yelled at him for no reason or snapped unwillingly when he's never ever raised his voice at you or argued.

"(Name)!" Luffy whined. "That was mine!"

You had just swiped something off his lunch plate - something he did way more often to you - when those words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had - once again - forgotten what time of the month it was. He was reminded when your eyes glossed over with tears, and your bottom lip trembled. Everyone else flinched as you started crying, getting up to run off to somewhere else.

"Luffy!" Nami smacked the back of his head.

"Idiot," Zoro grumbled, face-palming.

Luffy looked confused, wondering why everyone was telling him off. Only when Usopp nudged him in the direction you ran off did he get it. He was slow, but he always understood - eventually. He got up to follow you, finding you curled up in the crow's nest, shaking and crying into your knees.

"Hey, (Name)," he sat down next to you. "I'm sorry."

"You're an idiot, you know," you grumbled, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

He laughed, and you frowned, before he suddenly pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. He extended them so they encased you like a cocoon, having heard from Nami that keeping you warm might help with the pain. But also, he knew how much you loved it when he cuddled you like this. All your pain and anger faded away, and the tears stopped as your body completely relaxed in his embrace. You felt yourself nodding off, and pretty soon you were fast asleep, head tilted onto your boyfriend's shoulder. He smiled. He was lucky that you were so patient with him. Because it took him a while, but he would always make sure you were okay during these few unbearable days.

USOPP

This poor, poor boy. Having been around Kaya for most of his life, he wasn't new to what periods were. However, you were not like Kaya. You were aggressive, you were angry, you were violent, and it terrified him to his core. He knew you didn't mean to be, but your fluctuating hormones made you so moody and grumpy that he was almost tempted to hide from you for those few days. But he knew you needed him. So he did what he does best, he told you funny, made-up stories to make you laugh.

They...had the opposite effect.

He was alarmed when you started crying halfway through his infamous goldfish story, instantly reaching out to take your hand, "(Name), what's wrong? Does it hurt? I can go get something-"

"Why did you punch the goldfish?" You sniffled, looking up him with teary eyes.

He was taken aback by your question, his jaw dropping. No one ever asked that, and he was wondering why you were worried about the goldfish when he claimed it was attacking him.

"Why-"

"It was an innocent animal!" You whined, smacking his arm suddenly and then crying even more. "It didn't do anything!"

Usopp stuttered and stammered and tried to defend himself, but you were so concerned about the fish you didn't want to hear it. Shaking his head with a sigh, he just slipped into the bed next to you and brought you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. You were very very emotional, but he was learning how to appropriately handle it. And you appreciated that he was trying his best to make you smile. He made your periods bearable.

[sugoi-and-spice]

ok first off i love love love play nice ur such a good writer! if ur willing i’d like to request something w bully!dabi just being kind of a scum bag to reader💖

*deep inhale* *claps* Anon.

First off, thank you so much for the kind words! And second, thank you so much for this ask! You have created an absolute monster with it lol. Seriously, I got so into this idea that it is currently at 6500 words pre-smut. I'm thinking it's going to end up at least 10k, probably will need to be broken up into at least two chapters. And I'm already getting ideas for a beyond...

...I swear this is exactly how Play Nice went from a One-Shot to 25 Chapters lol.

So, while it's probably going to be a couple of weeks still before this goes out, please enjoy this little WIP preview of:

...Untitled High School AU Bully!Dabi x Reader Fic

(I suck at titles, sorry lol)

[preview]

If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you.

That’s what your mother always used to say.

“I told you to get me orange juice.”

You flinched at the venom in Dabi’s tone as he glared up at you with genuine disgust from his desk. You stood in front of him, ready for your reprimand like a dutiful employee. A good little slave.

“So what the fuck is this?” he demanded, grabbing the can you’d presented to him and waving it in your face.

You dropped your gaze to the ground, hands wringing anxiously. It wasn’t just the heat of Dabi’s glare or the bite of his words that was making it hard to stay standing. The sadistic amusement of his friends — your other classmates, Jin and Keigo — perched lazily on the desks around him were just as painful.

“T-They were out of orange juice,” you stammered, “So I got you orange-flavored tea…”

Dabi watched you, waiting for any more qualifications, any last excuses. But your eyes stayed down, lips stayed shut. The only change was in your now shuffling feet.

He popped open the tab and took a drink.

“Hmm.”

Hope swelled in your chest. Maybe you’d done enough this time. You looked up tentatively. Bored, piercing blue awaited you. He held you there for a moment, letting you think, letting you settle into relief and security.

Catching you in a trap.

“It’s fucking disgusting.”

Your heart dropped.

“Get this shit out of my face.”

And suddenly he threw the open can straight at your chest with audible force. It doused your uniform and then clattered and splashed onto the desk and floor.

Jin snorted out a laugh, “Oh shit.”

Keigo watched for your reaction, noticeably silent.

“Seriously, how can you be this useless?” Dabi spat, pulling his legs off the desk before any of the tea could bleed onto his shoes.

Dripping, you tried desperately to fight the quiver from your lip. It was not a fight you were winning.

Dabi stood with an annoyed sigh.

“Now I’ve gotta go get it myself. Happy?

You didn’t dare respond, not with that familiar lump growing larger and larger in your throat. If you so much as breathed in that moment, you’d cry for sure. And crying in front of Dabi would only make things worse.

So much worse.

“Better clean up your mess before class starts if you don’t want to get in trouble.” he called back as he made his way to the door, Jin close behind him.

Keigo stayed for a moment, watching with furrowed brows as you knelt down on trembling legs into the spreading orange-tinted puddle. 

“Oi, Bird Brain. Let’s go!”

He quickly turned on his heel, following the call without a second thought.

You picked the can up, fruitlessly trying to stop the spill — it was practically empty at this point.

If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you.

You could almost laugh.

By that logic, Dabi must’ve been fucking in love with you. That thought finally made the tears start to spill. Not because of how ridiculous it was or how isolating it felt.

But because it was exactly what you wanted.

You’d known him most of your life. You’d known him as the rowdy, energetic boy that lived next door. As the resident big brother for everyone in the neighborhood. The one that never stopped laughing, never stopped running — that always wanted to play outside.

The one who’d seen you wringing your hands anxiously on your new front lawn as your Mom directed movers into the house, staring longingly at the kids playing cops and robbers at the end of the cul-de-sac. The one that had immediately taken your hand and asked your Mom if you could come and play.

You’d known him when he was Touya Todoroki.

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / modern vikings au, Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note: long story short, I wrote this series but used an OFC that I use for most of my longer series. many thanks to @victoria-styles for her suggestion of making it a reader / Y/N story. major plot tweaks as well.

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend: you.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✎

“Not into the million dollar bullshit?” You heard a voice beckon from behind you, stepping forwards with a light to start the cigarette that hung between your Oxford red stained lips.

“Crawling through the depths of hell sounds more pleasant than being here,” You grumbled back through the cloud of grey smoke slipping past your lips. You watched the figure next to you light up his own cigarette, taking note at how his fingers curled around the stick as he laughed with your words. “I’m only here to calm Hvitserk,”

“And he’s not even here,” He said back with a laugh, blue eyes peeking to grab at yours.

“Structure fire across town,” You tell him. “Told him that if he’s so inclined he can bring the truck over here and spray the party with the water,” Ivar laughed at that.

“Fuck, you clean up nice. And I love a woman in uniform,” He teases, smirking as you do too. It went silent for a second between you two, sticks of chemicals on your lips as his eyes did not miss the way your dress hugged at your body, how your stilettos were secured around your ankles. He couldn’t pull his mind back quickly enough before he was imagining them over his shoulders, your lips that curled around the filter and how they might look around his cock. How you were the first person who gave him complete reign over the ink he was going to forever mark your body with.

“Let’s just say I’d rather slice my own tongue off and choke on it than admit to that, actually wearing something other than the blues, and enjoying it,” You groan as the man next to you laughs, a sick snicker coming from his lips and you find yourself smiling too. “But you don’t clean up half bad yourself, Ivar,” You tease back as your eyes catch sight of the roll of his sleeves, how he maneuvers the buttons and pulls the white fabric back to show the first indications of sleeved out arms.

“Where do you want to go?” Ivar asks, taking the cigarette from his mouth to stub.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t think I fucking stuttered,” He started in challenge. “You said you didn’t want to be here, so where would you like to go?” He asks a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips as he cocks his head to the side awaiting your answer.

“Alright, Ragnarsson, you’re fucking on,” You laugh back, crushing your own stick with the spike of your heel as you follow him.

*

Hvitserk was a man who took most things with a grain of salt, others came with a few shots of whiskey. He had seen the darker side of humanity, and you were right there with him when he did. Your interest in becoming certified for emergency medicine had followed you since your high school graduation, and you were right on the top of the sign up sheet when class enrolled. And you stayed on top when your graduated. Company firings and how it lead to short staffing, moving of some onto better things lead to an opening you leapt on and found yourself paired with a paramedic with blonde hair and a smile that could cause most of the human population to smile back. It did not take long for a friendship to strike up, even outside of the station and the blazing sirens. His humor, his companionship kept you sane, kept the darkness of the horrid calls at bay, you two grew close, quickly.

Even if company policy allowed the romantic attachments between co-workers, you still couldn’t find yourself catching some sort of feeling to Hvitserk. He was a friend, your best, and it was left at that. You trusted him with your life, you’d gladly lay on the stretcher and head into the emergency room as long as he was the paramedic who was treating you.

Sigurd came next in the line of his brothers, an obsession with music, and nothing but the best that world could offer. He had an artistic hand, Hvitserk drove you towards his place of employment for permanent artwork to your liking and that was how you met Ivar. He watched you tip toe through his portfolio, but if Sigurd had talent, then Ivar was a God. You had never seen such movement on skin where he would trace his ink. You didn’t want to pull a design off of the internet and ask Ivar to put in on you, it seemed almost rude, instead you told him where you wanted it, and told him to go crazy. He looked at you in such a way, thinking you were joking. Perhaps too un-educated in the world of tattoos, but you held your ground and he was proud of such a feat.

Work was all too consuming, trying to leave space for time other than the blood pressure cuffs and patient history. You’d spend time out on town with Hvitserk, his brothers soon in tow, a party of their own that they could become. You were shocked Hvitserk hadn’t caught on, that none of them had, how long you had been spreading your legs for Ivar in secret. Petty bantering between the two of you, the others making bets to see whom would kill whom first, but that chatter went towards the foreplay that would follow you two into the bedroom. The most shock you came to realize was how Ivar was always there in the morning—it took a lot of you to convince him to leave, but he always mumbled something about five more minutes just for holding you.

Perhaps it was how your days were spent doused in testosterone, one of the three women of the entire station, entire company, leaving you to be able to handle yourself around men with egos far bigger than the dicks they would carry. That was how you were so seamlessly integrated into the Ragnarsson brother’s, struck up like the sister they never got. That was how Ivar found himself thinking about you far more than a friend with or without benefits would, how tightly you snug around his cock, how you look and sounded when you came for him, how you had pulled more from him than any other woman he had slept with. How you made him feel appreciated and not like a man who needed to navigate himself with his dick to get what women he wanted. How you didn’t toss him to the side after the first fuck. You drove him crazy and he didn’t have the words to admit to it.

“If I hear a grumble from you one more time Ivar, I am going to kick you out of the shop,” Sigurd spoke from his spot at the front desk, thumbing through a magazine of industry products as Ivar hissed a curse at him in reply. “What the fuck is you problem?”

“Y/N,” Ivar answered all too quickly.

“What? She hurt your ego too bad last time we were out? Didn’t stroke it enough to your liking?” Sigurd teased.

“No,” Ivar said. “She didn’t stroke me enough to my liking,” But Ivar said the words far too quickly before he could catch them.

“Are you fucking her?” Sigurd said, sitting up in his chair. “You two are fucking?” He laughed.

“Shut up,” Ivar grumbled, a toss of his pencil flying to grace the space Sigurd was at.

“She cut your dick off? That the issue?” He teased. “Hvitserk’s going to go ape-shit, dude,”

“That’s why we’re not telling him yet, right Sigurd?” Ivar said “Right, Sigurd?” He repeated with an extended finger at his brother.

“How long have you two been fucking—I need to know that, for science, and because I am still in shock. How did you—her? She’s too good for you Ivar, you have to be careful there,”

“Two years,” Ivar remarked and Sigurd nearly fell out of his chair.

“Fuck! You ask her out yet?”

“We’re not talking about this—or telling anyone else, right?” Ivar said again.

“Yes, sir,” Sigurd nodded, a fake salute from his hand as his mind was still scrambled.

“Don’t call me sir,” Ivar snapped.

“Yes ma’am,”

*

You’d never forget the call that came through dispatch a month after you and Ivar had started to screw around more often than fuck buddies would. The address sounded familiar, but Hvitserk was the one who made the connection it was the shop. Ink Drinker was a parlor bathed in black; walls and dark floors that made the rooms look like they never ended. The art displayed belonged to that of Ivar, of Sigurd, of the few others who came and went for their tattoo work. The owner had wooden sculptures of his own to line the spaces, but you had only ever seen the man through his social media.

You feared suddenly something happening to Ivar, or Sigurd, readying yourself for the sight that may hold them there, but it wasn’t them. A patron had passed out to the sight of the needles, sending Ivar to sour his entire mood at the weakness for something he found so simple. His flash of anger changed suddenly when you and his brother showed up, jumping from the rig in full expectance to see either sibling in a bloody mess after fighting to their death.

“I called and specifically asked for Hvitserk Ragnarsson and his partner,” Sigurd teased as the teenager came too, apologizing and still paying Ivar for the appointment he was too scared to cancel.

“I was hoping it would be a trauma call, you finally snapping and kicking Ivar’s ass,” You answered back, smirking at Ivar as he rolled his eyes in distaste. Ivar’s eyes climbed your whole body as you worked, the uniform marking your hierarchy and importance as you took the patient to the hospital. His text message not ten minutes later almost made you head back just to smack him.

“You’re keeping the uniform on next time we fuck.”

Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk  @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @victoria-styles @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @youbloodymadgenius @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch- Part 11

The Darkling x Reader

I’m backkkkkkkkk besties 🥰🥰

The rest of the day was spent doused in the work the Darkling had given you earlier, so the time you would have spent otherwise mulling over his plans for the stag had to be pushed out of the way.

You had plenty of time left until the evening's dinner, where you would be formally announced as Deputy General to the Grisha of the Little Palace. You had already signed off on official letters to the camp commanders and First-Army leaders stating your position, but you doubted there would be any fuss from them.

Your own Grisha is who you had to be worried about. They didn't do well with change. Especially not when it came to a mysterious all-powerful Grisha coming and taking control of an army they'd never seen them be a part of before.

Nonetheless, this was happening whether they wanted it or not. Ravka needed to present a united front and adding another person to strengthen said front was essential. All you hoped for was a peaceful transition, no blood-baths. To hell if they whispered or rumored, you could handle that, you've been handling it.

You had a list of ever-changing priorities in your head, and on top of it was always Alina. You cared for your Grisha, no matter how much they hated you or how much you disliked them, and Alina wasn't any exception. You felt a pang of guilt flow through you at the thought of Aleksander using her against her better conscience but you shoved it away quickly. There was nothing you could do but talk to him and question him about the plan.

The plan. The stupid plan. You called it stupid because you didn't know anything about it and against your better judgment, it made you doubt his trust. Was it so bad, so cruel, that he couldn't tell me? Before you came to the Little Palace, you told yourself you wouldn't blindly trust anybody anymore. Aleksander had to be held to that standard too.

Your door was left slightly ajar, you were sick of the knocking at this point so when you heard a feminine voice call out your name you looked up instantly, ready to be hit with more reports.

'Ms.Y/L/N? I have been sent by the General to see if you wish to use any of my help' The red-haired Grisha looked at you with her bright blue eyes. Her white kefta pressed to perfection.

'You must be Genya' You stood up and welcomed her in.

'Sorry about the room, as you can see I don't have a proper desk yet' you laughed and watched her closely as she studied you. 'What do you do exactly? It's been years since I heard of a tailor and I've never had the pleasure to meet one.'

You noticed a look of surprise at your black kefta. If she had any questions, she most certainly didn't feel comfortable asking, he probably told her not to ask.

'I do all sorts of things, change the color of your hair, get rid of pesky scars, anything you don't like about yourself really..... well except your character, there's nothing anyone can do about that' She waved off and sat you down at your vanity, carefully pushing papers to one side.

'So? How about it?' She looked at you through the mirror and you pondered.

'Maybe the eye bags need to go?'

She nodded deeply, 'Definitely' you couldn't help but feel a little offended, but mostly amused.

'What do you propose then, Genya?'

'Hmmm, the eyebags for sure, put some color on your cheeks,-' She combed her hands through your hair and bit the inside of her cheek '-the hair needs something too, perhaps some shine?'

'Perhaps' You mused.

'I shall get to work then' she smiled.

****

After your pampering session with Genya and prying her open (more like soothing her) to talking about life at the Palaces and her life, you came to the conclusion that you would die for her. She was so kind and strong, no wonder she and Alina were always seen together, they were two peas in a pod. Her humor and wittiness, like yours, was refreshing, a breath of fresh air in the stiff and formal palace.

You didn't bother changing. The truth was you were tired already and a full day hadn't even passed of your new job. How did I do this for so many years? But still, you managed to put on your bravest smile and walk in the domed hall with your head held high and your black kefta on a show like a trophy.

Unlike the other time you and Aleksander dined together here, he was already sitting in his chair. Ivan was standing, ready to announce any war news and casualties. You could see Alina looking at you with a confused look on her face, but she still gave you a welcoming smile.

You sat down and cleared your throat in the deafening silence. Ivan began to speak but you heard none of it. Your head too full with thoughts on how this situation could go. You felt Aleksander move his hand to your thigh in a calming manner. You looked over to him and shot him a tight smile, before looking back to Ivan who was sitting down. Here goes nothing.

You stood up with Aleksander. The Grisha in the room couldn't understand what was going on, who was that person, wearing black nonetheless, sitting at the right side of the Darkling, on her own custom chair. The list of anomalies was never-ending.

He spoke first 'Today is a monumental day for the Second-Army, for all Grisha, for Ravka. Y/N Y/L/N has returned to the Little Palace and will be reprising her role of Deputy General, Second in Command of the Second Army.'

Nobody spoke but if looks could kill, I would be halfway into my grave by now.

'Ms. Y/L/N will play an essential part in our fight for freedom and justice. She is an outstanding leader, sometimes even better than I am, for she leads with compassion and understanding for all. She deserves nothing but the utmost respect and loyalty. If you for one second doubt her abilities, you might as well put cuffs around your own wrists, for disrespecting her is disrespect for me. I put my full faith in her.'

He turns to you and sits down, giving you all the attention.

'None of you will remember my reign as Deputy General, but I assure you I know what I am doing. The Little Palace and your lives are of most importance to me. I am here to protect and care for you, yes I will be giving commands, but rest be assured they are in your best interest.'

'I don't represent one order of Grisha, I represent and unite all of you-' You look towards the Etherialki '-I can summon the strongest of gales and light the Palace's fires-'

You turn your head toward the Materialki '-I can bend any metal, bleed fabric of its color-'

Your eyes meet Fedyor's '-I can soothe a heart and crush every bone in a body-'

You stand straighter '- and I can summon the shadows, call the darkness. With me at your side, I will make the Grisha kind loved once again, we will not be hunted or enslaved. Ravka's borders will be peaceful. I am putting my trust into each and every single one of you to help me achieve our utopia'

You sit back down and only then do you notice your shaking hands. You don't dare look up out of fear but a calming hand on your back almost forces you to. And you're glad because almost every Grisha in the room is looking, no, worshipping you. Their eyes glazed over and their mouths open in shock. Even Zoya looked astounded.

He leans in to whisper in your ear 'I'm so proud of you'

*****

You ate amongst the other Grisha that night, feeling a sense of belonging and confidence pulsing through you. It went down way better than you'd expected. Nobody threw a fit or tried your life. And you were happy. The sleep you had that night was the best you'd had in years.

The next morning, and the morning after that, was taken up entirely by work. Aleksander went away and so you were left with the runt of the jobs. But you had made yourself extremely comfortable in his quarters. At first, you only came to make use of the war room, then you sat at his desk to drink your tea and concentrate on work, and ultimately fell asleep in his bed, enclosed by his scent and those forgiving black sheets.

There was so much work to do and only so many hours in the day, and Aleksander decided to make life that much harder by renewing the search for Morozova's stag. You couldn't keep up.

You were waiting on a certain somebody. You had instructed the oprichniki to bring her here right after she was done with Baghra, no later. And so you stood there, inspecting the war table when a gentle knock echoed throughout the room.

'Come in'

'Deputy General' She addressed you with a curt nod.

'Please Alina, call me Y/N' you looked at her from your place at the table, hands resting on the map. She looked slightly uncomfortable but way less scrawny than when you'd first seen her. Her hair was filler and her skin glowed. She looked healthy now. Aleksander must see this too.

'I can see using your powers has affected you in more ways than one.'

'Oh-yes umm.. my appetite's grown so much since I got here it's rather funny' She was growing more comfortable.

'That's completely normal if you're using your powers more often' You smiled and walked around to her. 'I thought we could have a cup of tea or two, and you could tell me all about yourself Alina, and the things that are troubling you. I don't want you to feel like you're all alone in this place.'

'Dep- Y/N I assure you I am most certainly fine. There’s no need t-’

'I was once like you… and I can sense a troubled soul with my eyes closed.'

She stared at you with her defensive walls up, not letting any emotion slip though the cracks behind her eyes.

‘Alina… I mean you no harm. I’m just worried. Isn’t it nice to have someone worry for Alina and not the sun-summoner for a change?’ You cracked a sad smile and walked over to the tea the servants had brought.

‘Sugar?’

Part 12

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

[wrightaboutthat]

Proposing a Duel ~A Narumitsu One-Shot~

Summary: Finally, after years of pining, years of waiting, is Phoenix prepared to propose to the love of his life. But with someone he parallels so intensely, nothing can ever be straightforward.

Tags: Marriage Proposal, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Arguing, Childhood Memories, they're so dumb, and bickering 5ever, but they're so incredibly in love your honor, and deserve intense happiness like this, also this is probably set in the aa5-6 timeline somewhere but Who's Counting

Additional Notes: Hello everyone! Finally managed to tackle and finish one of my 20+ Narumitsu drafts lol. I recognize that this is quite the common trope/plot with these two, but I'm of course shooting for a "yay, two cakes" situation! We simply cannot have enough proposal fics, and these two deserve all the happiness/sweetness in the world quite honestly. They're tired- let them REST.

Anyway, super excited to share this with you all, and I hope you enjoy!

You can also read the work on AO3 here [x]

It felt different. He felt different. There was a certain and light sweetness that seemed to be lingering in the air. There was a tender warmth that seemed to be burning between two forms. There was a magnetic tug that seemed to be pulling harder than usual.

Perhaps it was finally pulling towards the inevitable.

Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat at the very consideration. It had been so long after all. The entirety of his life had slowly led up to such a thing. But even still, he doubted his readiness, doubted his ability to proceed.

Though, looking at the man beside him easily dampened such doubts. Fear melted away into giddy nervousness, and worry softened into warm tingles.

Because it was Miles.

Miles.

A man who had evaded him for years. A man who had changed him for the better. A man who had beautifully fought for betterment all for his sake. A man who he’d do anything for.

A man he wanted to marry.

The direct utterance within his mind manifested a flushed smile, his head going woozy with adoration. Inevitable indeed; it felt so right to consider, so...perfect. He of course hoped his proposal would follow suit, that it would declare such deep admiration to the receiver. He wanted it to be just as wonderful as the very man-

“What is it?”

The murmured baritone snapped Phoenix from his honeyed thoughts, startling as he returned to the present.

“Huh?”

Though Miles’ stare remained trained ahead, Phoenix could still pick up on the tenderness that washed over his facial expression.

“You were staring quite intently, darling.”

The term of endearment, the tonality of his boyfriend’s voice, and the ginger facial expression did nothing to help his blush. The defense attorney’s cheeks were fiery, though his growing smile aided in the distribution of heat.

“Is that anything new? I always struggle to take my eyes off you.”

He watched with amusement as color struck Miles’ face to match, his expression crinkling into something of embarrassment.

“Nngh...” he quietly groaned, earning a chuckle from Phoenix before he continued, “Well, at least I’m the one driving then.”

“Thank God for that.”

They ventured back into comfortable silence, but affections were still reciprocated. Miles slipped a hand off the steering wheel and laid it palm-up on the console, an invitation that Phoenix immediately took. He gave his boyfriend’s hand a soft squeeze, contentedly sighing as his thoughts began to wander once more.

Hand holding wouldn’t feel the same for very long after all. There would be an even deeper connection with it, a deeper unity. Soft skin and sturdy fingers would be bordered with precious metal, a glistening reminder of their utmost promise to each other...

“Phoenix.”

The tanner man jerked back to the present once again, though not as harshly as before.

“Yeah?”

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Are you saying I’m normally loud, baby?”

The slight rise of his boyfriend’s brow was enough to draw forth a laugh, the deeper implications plenty visible in such a mere gesture.

“More talkative than I, yes,” Miles huffed, though he quickly ventured back towards a more solemn air. “Is something on your mind?”

“Ahh...no.” A lie. And it was very dangerous to offer a lie to the man who sought nothing but the truth in every regard. So Phoenix very quickly covered with a genuine statement, a true explanation indeed. “I just...get lost in how much I love you sometimes.”

Heterochromatic eyes had averted with such a statement, and his other hand had taken purchase upon his neck. The silence that followed however, drew his gaze back towards his partner. But, following the pattern of comfort, any and all apprehension was doused by the prosecutor; the intense blush and bashful furrow on his counterpart’s face triggered giggles.

“Darling...” Miles muttered in disdain.

“It’s true!”

Silver eyes briefly flitted sideways, before the opposing man heaved a large sigh. Years ago, such a statement would likely earn some manner of reluctance or coldness. In the present though, and to Phoenix’s delight, it slowly drew forth a gentle smile once more.

“If I wasn’t speeding down a highway, I would perhaps have to kiss you,” Miles eventually murmured.

“Just perhaps?” Phoenix laughed.

“Mm...”

The prosecutor readjusted their conjoined hands, and better gripped Phoenix’s, gently bringing it to his awaiting mouth.

“Assuredly,” he said, sealing the word with a tender kiss.

It was the defense’s turn to be bashful, flushing and giggling and crumpling in on himself. It was without fail; close to proposing, and yet rendered so useless by his beloved. He doubted that would change, even well into their marriage. It hadn’t for years and years after all.

When Miles lowered their hands back to the console, Phoenix heaved a breath, easing into conversation before thoughts hoisted him away again.

“Where are we going anyway?”

There was an odd pause, coupled with what sounded like a shaky inhalation. The prosecutor did indeed answer, but through vagueness only.

“You’ll see.”

“Are we close? Because I perhaps have to kiss you too.” Just as Miles has done, he brought their hands upward, gripping the prosecutor’s just so and returning the gesture with warm lips. “Hands don’t really cut it.”

“Yes, dear. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Phoenix grinned, and pressed a plethora of short kisses to the other man’s hand- so much so that he earned a soft whap of disdain to the face. He broke into giggles then and freed the prosecutor from his onslaught, simply opting to sit and wait for their arrival, albeit anxiously. He hoped it was a proper location. He hoped it was someplace fitting. He hoped it would be a date worth turning into something more. He wasn’t sure if he could stand the idea of having to push things back any longer; the ring had already been in his possession for one day too many.

The car finally slowing down brought him from his thoughts, and he blinked as he attempted to process where they were. It didn’t seem to be a fancy restaurant or anything typical of Miles; in fact, it seemed like they were just in some random part of the city. And yet, there seemed to exist an odd sort of...familiarity to it all, a sense of dejavu gnawing on his mind.

Regardless of the swirling thoughts, he snapped to action the moment they stopped. The second Miles parked the car, he was leaning across the center console, following through with his previous statements and tugging them both into a proper kiss. The pair sighed and melted against each other’s mouths, sucking and gliding and caressing.

When Phoenix attempted to slide his tongue betwixt his partner’s lips however, did the prosecutor lean back and break their connection.

“Not so fast, Wright,” he tutted, though his brow was playfully cocked, “Can’t have you sullying this date.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s irresistibly gorgeous.”

Miles rolled his eyes, causing the tanner man to chuckle, before he poised himself to depart the vehicle.

“I rest my case.”

Phoenix continued with his mirth, but had no further objections; no, he didn’t need to sully their date at all. There would be plenty of time for intimacy, but only one chance to present such a momentous inquiry. So he exited after his boyfriend, and walked around the car to be by his side.

Gazes were soft once more upon meeting, and the prosecutor offered a hand for Phoenix to take. He did so happily, and allowed his partner to lead. In doing so however, perplexity joined the mix, his wavy brows furrowing as he continued to try and place...where exactly they were. It wasn’t exactly a park, or a restaurant, or any discernible destination at all. It merely seemed like Miles was leading him down a sidewalk- and was his hand...trembling?

His face scrunched with further confusion, the two of them continuing to wind through buildings. Soon however, buildings opened up to a very particular scene. Rounding a corner stopped him dead in his tracks. Gazing upon the openness before him smacked his brain with a plethora of memories. He saw many a picture, heard swaths of innocent laughter, and felt rushes of old warmth...

“Remember this spot?”

Miles’ murmur managed to reach him, but his composure still swayed. Tears almost pricked his heterochromatic eyes, his nose tickling with the threat of their manifestation. Because yes, he absolutely did. The small canal, the grassy hill, the surrounding quaint homes, the sunset...

It was a scene from their youth. It was a place they had frequented together as grade schoolers. It was a place where dreams had been discussed, and bonds had been formed.

And God, was it perfect for taking said bonds even further.

Phoenix had to keep a hand over his mouth for a few beats, attempting to keep his composure at bay. Breaking down in front of Miles wouldn’t be anything new necessarily, but it would produce suspicion.

Thankfully, the prosecutor didn’t seem to notice- at least, not yet. For he simply snickered and tugged, softly beckoning with their conjoined hands.

“I take that as a yes. Come on then.”

He led them both down the old path, strolling in the golden light of the setting sun. Phoenix could almost see flashes of their grade school selves as they happened along, laughing and shoving and playing. And, through the sparkles in his vision, could he also picture the glistens of precious metal, of gemstones shining with promise and love.

He had to bite his cheek to keep himself in check. When would be the proper time to ask anyway? It felt so close, but so very far. It felt so perfect, but so out of reach. Maybe it would just come to him. Maybe the stars would align. And if Miles’ hand was still oddly trembling, he could no longer tell; his was too.

The prosecutor slowing down pulled him from his running thoughts, but made the situation all the more real. He allowed Miles to lead him into the grass, onto one of the slopes neighboring the sidewalk. Mismatched eyes rapidly blinked to shoo away tears; it was such the perfect parallel. It was such a beautiful nod to their roots.

“Love, I didn’t think you remembered this!” he strained out, beginning to beam immensely, “It was so long ago.”

“Well of course I do. You were the better part of those years after all.”

“Miles...” Phoenix heaved a breath, his smile beginning to rival the light shining upon them. “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? This was so thoughtful.”

He watched with delight as the opposing man flushed something terrible, his silver eyes averting and his grasp retracting.

“Ngh...” he softly groaned, before dismissively waving a hand and moving to sit, “It’s merely a trip down memory lane, that’s all.”

“Yeah but...” Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh, latching on to some teasing for a bit of emotional respite, “Esteemed Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth sitting in the grass for me?”

Miles seemed to stiffen a bit, coupled with another crawl of red across his visage.

“Is that really such an oddity?”

“A bit, yeah! It’s different than what we normally do.” Phoenix snickered a bit more, before he lowered himself to the ground as well, sitting flush against his partner. The mirth departed his voice then, his tone traveling back towards a more earnest warmth. “So it’s just...It’s really sweet. And meaningful.”

And utterly perfect for what he had planned.

He watched as Miles’ face immensely softened, though silver eyes averted once more. Phoenix took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to the offered cheek, before moving to nestle his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He sighed a contented breath upon doing so- particularly when he eventually felt Miles’ head snuggle against his.

Part of him was anxious, what with a brewing proposal swirling around in his depths. But another part hushed him, and told him to simply enjoy the scene for a moment. It was a lovely contrast against their usual life; just getting to take a few moments of calm hush with his beloved, in a place that meant so much to them. The sunlight was warming, his partner’s body was soothing, and the air was enticing.

Mismatched eyes half-lidded, and he hummed amidst the quiet. He wanted it to continue. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. But the other half of him began to cry out for attention. The other half drove him to speak, to drive the peace towards partnership.

“God, Miles...How did we even get here?”

“It’s been a long road, hmm?” the prosecutor murmured after a few beats.

“Yeah. Crazy to think I’m here with you like this. It was always a dream of mine.”

“I concur.”

“So proper,” Phoenix snickered, moving to press another kiss to the opposing man’s cheek.

“Hush,” he huffed. Before Phoenix could nestle back downwards however, Miles turned his head and captured their mouths for a proper kiss. And just as soon as the kiss started was he rising to stand, stoically and handsomely staring out towards the departing sun. He seemed to let out a shaky breath, before he continued in solemn tones. “As children, when I sat with you here, I...couldn’t help but look to the future, and imagine what could be. To think that it’s realized now, and far more than I ever pictured...”

He heaved again, and seemed to look downward at his feet.

“And to think that it could continue...”

Phoenix’s heart leapt into his throat; how was it that Miles was perfectly setting him up? How was it that he was meticulously laying the puzzle pieces out? It was almost like he knew, like he was aware of the ring burning brightly in his pocket.

“Phoenix...”

It was time. Oh God, it was time. It was like some divine forces yanked him upward, piloting him towards the start of a new beginning. He no longer questioned it. He no longer felt apprehensive. He only felt entirely driven to begin.

“-Miles, I adore you,” he blurted, butting in and rambling without much control, “I love you so much. I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’re gorgeous, and amazing, and so important to me, and...”

He could feel his partner’s eyes on him. He could feel the burn of their bodies. He could feel the very question hanging in the air between them. His chest tightened, his eyes watered, and his extremities quivered...Yet he still managed to reach for the life changing box in his pocket, and poised himself to get down on one knee.

“And so I have to do something I’ve thought about since I met-“

“-Hold it!”

The sudden objection from his boyfriend startled him, causing him to crash down upon his knee as opposed to a gentle descent. He winced a bit at the impact, but physical pain was quickly replaced by emotional; Miles looked...appalled. Phoenix felt his chest squeeze immensely, coupled with a croaked utterance of the prosecutor’s name.

“Wh- Miles?”

He watched with further horror as his counterpart backed away, heaving and wringing his fists a plenty. Miles even went so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hand, sighing and straining a cursed sentence.

“I cannot believe this...”

The defense lawyer trembled, the words piercing a crack in his heart. He had been wrong. He had been overzealous. He had pushed Miles too far. He had backed himself into an unlovable corner yet again.

He opened his mouth to speak, to question, to beg for answers, but all that escaped was a quivering breath. Oddly enough, the sound still managed to reach the prosecutor, because he looked back before...miraculously softening?

“-Wait wait, no. Apologies. I...” he said with a raised hand, before pulling it back in and freezing.

They both were silent for several beats then, the air immensely tense and thick. Though Phoenix felt slightly better that his beloved no longer appeared...disgusted, his heart still ached something terrible. He was confused, and downtrodden, watching his boyfriend closely for any further reactions.

React he did; he shifted more into the typical tense nervousness, pulling at his shirt and avoiding eye contact. Numerous deep breaths also heaved from the prosecutor, the exhalations sounding surprisingly shaky. Though it was likely only seconds, the quiet felt like hours, Phoenix clambering for any sign he hadn’t just made the worst mistake of his life.

And it was a wonder he doubted his partner so. It was crazy that his anxiety still got to him. The traumatic scars really did run immensely deep. But regardless, Miles finally provided, looking back and turning the situation around.

“My darling,” he began, his silver eyes interlocking with heterochromatic, “I am...so sorry for startling you. I just...have no idea how we possibly managed...”

With that, the prosecutor reached into his own pocket, and presented something that connected all the glittering puzzle pieces together.

Oh.

Oh.

Every ounce of apprehension washed away. Every bit of discomfort fizzled into nothingness. Every drop of sadness evaporated into thin air. And all was replaced by the most dazzling, incredible warmth Phoenix had ever experienced.

Because it was a box, much like the one he still had in his own hand.

Suddenly, everything made sense. He had brought him out here with identical intentions. He had sweetened his tongue with the same question. He had been preparing to go down the same road, and was startled by the abrupt change in plans.

They had both tried to propose to each other. They had both tried to ask for each other’s hand.

Phoenix wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sob, and subsequently settled for a mixture of both. His free hand clapped over his mouth, and he quivered from tears and mirth alike.

“Miles? Miles?!”

Through the glaze, he could see the prosecutor shaking his head. And over his trembling vocalizations, he could hear the strained quality his boyfriend’s voice had taken.

“Always throwing me for a loop, Wright.”

“Oh my God!” Phoenix laughed, rubbing at his eyes with a hand as he attempted to compose himself. He was overwhelmed, so delightfully overwhelmed. Because two opposing rings meant they were on the exact same page. Two pieces of beautiful metal signaled each other’s answer.

His laugh choked off with more of a sob, and he peered through his fingers to get a look at his boyfriend. Miles had his head turned away, a hand grasping his face once more. Was he crying as well? Or trying not to? Whatever the case, the very consideration sent further tears down the tanner man’s cheeks.

“I...I love you,” he rasped.

“I...” Normally smooth and cool vocals were shaky and taut, the prosecutor clearing his throat before attempting again. “I love you too, dearest.”

The situation beautifully plateaued, the two men taking numerous beats to compose themselves. Neither moved. Neither said anything. Neither made any sort of advance with such a dear connection woven between them.

Phoenix continued wiping his tears and blowing out cleansing breaths. He slowly became aware of the fact that he was still on one knee, still poised to officially pop the question. Though, how was he to go about it? And with an opposing ring in the playing field? He felt inclined to inquire.

“Love?”

He watched as the prosecutor straightened, smoothing out his dress shirt and composing himself something proper. It looked very much like how he recovered in court after a sudden blow, scrambling back from an emotional edge and easing back into stoicism.

“Yes?” he answered after a few beats, though his voice was still thickened.

“What...what do we even do now?!” Phoenix laughed, his free hand traveling to rest upon his neck.

“Well,” Miles began after heaving another cleansing breath, “If we’re getting into technicalities, I’ve had this planned for months.”

The sheen in Phoenix’s eyes flashed with a new spark, the tears glistening with fire. No, not just an opposing ring- a rival ring. It seemed that old habits died hard.

“So? I’m the one on one knee right now! I beat you to it.”

“And? I don’t believe you had any sort of plan regarding this.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m trying to marry you, Phoenix,” Miles said matter-of-factly, tapping his bicep in the normal way, “Ergo, I know you better than perhaps the back of my own hand.”

The tanner man wanted to laugh at the courtroom persona his partner had suddenly adopted, argue with the points being brought to the table, and melt at the fact that Miles Edgeworth wanted to marry him. Unfortunately, he was incapable of anything of the sort; the truth was a little too on the nose.

“Ahh...” was all he sheepishly managed, his free hand grasping his neck harder.

He watched as Miles cocked a brow and gave him a knowing look, furthering the blush that gripped his cheeks.

“Out with it then.”

“Okay...Maybe I was about to start winging it...”

“Mm, as always.”

“But so what?” Phoenix exclaimed, “I’m always ready to get into how much I adore you, and why I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else, and-“

“-You are not about to advantageously segue, Phoenix Wright.”

The defense attorney burst out laughing, finally standing back up and closing the distance between them.

“Miles!” he comedically whined, giving his boyfriend’s chest a gentle shove, “Dammit, you do know me a little too well.”

“Indeed. Which is why I feel more than apt to be the first one to proceed.”

“No! I was ramping myself up towards a big speech and everything.”

“As was I. I’ve dreamed of this since I was young.”

“And you think I haven’t?!”

The prosecutor’s face devolved into more of his usual scowl, his arms lacing across his chest. It was quite the sight really, what with his eyes still containing wisps of moisture. Still, the strange contrast didn’t cease the pair’s argument.

“We seem to be at quite the impasse then.”

“A bit!” Phoenix snorted.

“Is your stubbornness really going to stop us from getting engaged?”

“Is yours?”

Miles let out a harsh sigh, his annoyance becoming more and more noticeable.

“You’re being ridiculous. Why does it matter who proposes to whom anyway?”

“If it didn’t matter so much, you would have let me go for it!” the tanner man pointed out.

“You’re incredibly obstinate.”

“Haven’t you always admired that?”

“Phoenix,” Miles hissed.

“Besides, so are you!”

“Tell me, do you have a better comeback besides mirroring what I’ve just said?”

“I could always tell you to shut up and let me get on with it.”

“Oh, so romantic and well spoken,” the prosecutor snapped, throwing his hands with exasperation, “Truly makes for the sweetest memories.”

“Says you! You’re the one who started all of this. I could have proposed already!”

It was then that Phoenix’s eyes glinted once more, this time with a spark of mischievous stubbornness. In knowing him so well, Miles appeared to pick up on it, his body twitching and his brow furrowing.

“Don’t you dare-“

The prosecutor’s snarl cut off as they both leapt for the same conclusion. Knees crashed to the ground together, and boxes were hastily grappled for, the two racing for that beautiful spot.

And then something tickled Phoenix once more.

Maybe it was the way the love of his life was kneeling and fuming before him, holding a precious box in such a seething manner. Or maybe it was the way they were both treating their rings as weapons, like they were drawing them for a duel. Or maybe, it was the way they were arguing over a damn proposal.

Regardless, the tanner man was powerless, and began laughing again without much control. The sudden mirth seemed to slap the prosecutor; out of the corner of Phoenix’s eye, he could see his partner stiffen something terrible. It was likely striking even more of a nerve, but he couldn’t help it. It was so...stupidly them, and so amusing as a result.

He bent over from the force of his giggles, instinctively placing a hand on Miles’ bent knee to steady himself. The voice of reason in the very back of his head screamed danger, as an angry prosecutor could easily shove it off. But just as the situation continued to unfold in an odd manner, as did motivations. For Phoenix felt a gentle hand come to rest upon his own, squeezing as opposed to throwing.

“What’s...so funny?” he barely heard his boyfriend ask, his hesitant voice drowned out by the seamless mirth. He had to take numerous beats to sharply inhale, to attempt to get some air, before he could even consider replying.

“...This!” he gasped, wiping building tears with his free hand, “Us!”

To both his surprise and amusement, he heard what sounded like a cheerful huff from the prosecutor. Maybe he was being pulled down into the fun as well? The thought tickled the tanner man even more, and he rode another wave of giggles before fighting for further conversation.

“Miles...Miles...What the hell are we even doing?”

Yes, the prosecutor was definitely laughing now; Phoenix could hear the chuckles blending in so well with his own. It sent him into another fit, made worse by what Miles said next.

“Being...Imbecilic I suppose.”

The pair took a few moments to laugh together then, completely replacing the annoyance in Phoenix’s system with honeyed warmth once more. How typical of them. How beautiful of them. Riding an emotional rollercoaster was something of wonderful normalcy, even in what was supposed to be a special moment. Though, perhaps it actually made the moment all the more meaningful, all the more memorable.

“God! We’re so stupid...We’re so damn stupid...” the defense eventually wheezed, continuing to wipe at his eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Miles huffed, slowly standing back up and brushing himself off.

“We’re- hey!” Phoenix laughed, erecting to give his boyfriend’s chest yet another push, “You’re an ass.”

“Oh, will the loving talk ever cease?” the prosecutor sighed with a roll of his eyes.

The tanner man continued to giggle, before he stepped even closer, nuzzling his nose tenderly against Miles’. The pair softened immensely, and the defense attorney took advantage by offering yet another kiss.

“I love you so much,” he whispered when their mouths parted.

“I love you too.”

The pair took a few beats of tender silence then, stepping down from the nonsensical energy that had been their argument. It was Miles’ turn to take advantage then; he reached with a hand to brush black hairs back into place before gently framing a damp cheek.

“I do still intend to go through with this, you know,” he murmured, before mildly cocking a brow, “Even though the mood has been thoroughly soiled now.”

“I do too. I-“ Heterochromatic eyes widened slightly, the tanner man starting like he had reached a brilliant conclusion in court. “Hey, actually...”

“Hmm?”

“Hear me out on this, okay? Going back and forth is totally our thing, right? We kinda just proved that.”

A huff and eye roll from the prosecutor drew another shaky laugh from the defense. Still, he continued.

“So what if we...propose together? Back and forth?”

He watched as a strong swath of red spread across his boyfriend’s cheeks, coupled with a furrow of his brow. Silver eyes flitted off to the side as well, a sign he was either flustered or objecting.

“That’s...”

In fearing the latter, Phoenix quickly interjected. “-I know, I know, it’s weird. And not exactly traditional. But it’s...us, you know?”

“I suppose that would indeed solve our problem after all.”

“Okay...”

The tanner man heaved a multitude of cleansing breaths, attempting to pull his composure back to the proper place. But with the element of surprise gone, with two rings in the vicinity, and with the love of his life staring through sparkles of unshed tears...He couldn’t help but shakily laugh, intense emotions swaying all over the place.

“Whew, I...Dammit! I can’t focus now-“

“-Shh,” Miles cut in, suddenly leaning closer and nestling their foreheads together, “Come here then, dearest. I believe we need to...take a moment.”

The defense’s breath caught at the proximity, but he nodded, allowing himself to get ushered away by the man before him. Nestled so close, aggressively ricocheting emotions had no choice but to settle; for there was nothing quite as soothing as snuggling up to his beloved. His mind whited out with the gentle, floral scent of the prosecutor, and the soft warmth his being provided. Though his heart was still pounding, and his eyes were still watering, it did indeed effectively walk him back to a more composed mentality. Perhaps because it reminded him just how much he adored the opposing man, and just how much he wanted to marry him.

“Better?” Miles eventually whispered.

“Yeah...” Phoenix replied, before blowing out a few more cleansing breaths. This was it. This was really it. “Okay. Okay okay...”

He leaned back then, intertwining both stares and fingers. The two shared a look of love, of reverence, of happiness, before stepping fully into the light.

“Phoenix Wright...”

“Miles Edgeworth...”

The tanner man watched as his beloved opened his mouth, but stiffened when no words followed. The tender visage furrowed back into a scowl, but thankfully, Phoenix wasn’t left in apprehension for too long.

“Curses. I had been so ready!”

Phoenix found himself laughing once again; composure was still a beast, it seemed. But somehow, by some damn graces, were words poised on his own tongue. So he gripped his love’s hand a bit tighter, and allowed them to fall.

“Well here- I knew I wanted to marry you from the moment I met you.”

The furrow on Miles’ face didn’t ease- it only turned incredulous. Naturally, Phoenix laughed even harder, and gave the prosecutor’s hand another squeeze.

“I’m serious! Even at nine years old, I could recognize my soulmate.”

Miles seemed to consider the statement, or allow the words to blanket over him. Either way, after a few beats, did he find his stride as well, steering them both towards a more solemn air.

“From the beginning, you enraptured me,” he murmured, silver eyes trained off to the side, “I felt safe around you, happy around you. And there was a deeper sort of calling that I recognized too- something brilliant and pure that I haven’t experienced with anyone else.”

“I think it was so strong and beautiful that I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Phoenix admitted.

“Indeed. It frightened me, and you know this. I denied its call initially. Or perhaps I didn’t deem myself worthy of standing hand in hand with such an incredible, intelligent, wonderful man.”

“Miles...” Phoenix murmured, his voice and face coated with disdain.

“Especially after all I’d done. So, I of course stepped away from that gorgeous light you cast.”

“But I had no intention of losing you. Still don’t.”

The two squeezed hands, before monochrome eyes slowly crept upwards to find mismatched once more.

“Nor I you,” Miles whispered, “When your hand was presented, I could only avoid its reach for so long. There was only so much running before that warmth enveloped me. No longer could I deny the deep and complex feelings you evoked within.”

“I didn’t know how to go about it, you know. Once I had your hand, I didn’t know what to do. I stumbled a bit trying to figure it all out.” Phoenix looked downward at their connection then, a warm, tearful smile overtaking his face. “All I did know was that I was so incredibly in love with you.”

He heard Miles’ breath catch, and subsequently offered a few caresses with his thumb. The prosecutor softly cleared his throat, before he managed to tenderly continue.

“I...knew I was in love with you too. The second you found me, the second you reached me, I could feel it.”

“Yet somehow we danced circles around each other,” Phoenix shakily snickered.

“I just couldn’t comprehend it. I struggled to find mutuality. Because, I of course just wanted to see you happy. I wanted nothing but the best for you. And I wasn’t sure I fit that bill.”

“You did. You do.” Phoenix softly broke their connection for the purpose of framing his partner’s face, tenderly holding and intently staring. “God, Miles, you do. I don’t think I could love someone as much as I love you. Maybe I couldn’t even wrap my head around it either.”

“And we both experienced hardships of course.”

“Yeah. But you were there for me. You took my hand as well. You guided me and made me a stronger, better person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for you.”

“I of course can say the same about you. You are...” Miles heaved a shaky breath himself, before reaching to mirror the touch. “...the dearest thing in my life, Phoenix. You are my light, my guidance, my foundation, and my truth. You are so incredibly important to me, and I love you more than I ever deemed possible.”

Phoenix had heard his partner speak soft sentiments before. He had experienced the deeper, more vulnerable side of the prosecutor a handful of times. But whispered in a spot from their childhood, proclaimed as they sought to strengthen their bond...

It amplified his tears tenfold, his bottom lip wobbling as awed cascades poured forth.

“I...M-Miles...Dammit...” he croaked, leading to a playful eye roll from his partner.

“Mm, so eloquent,” Miles softly huffed.

“Shh! I...” Phoenix hesitated, overwhelmed and overflowing with adoration. He felt there wasn’t much to say to top what had just been murmured- and he also knew he dangerously close to falling apart. Consequently, he softly tugged his partner closer, and locked them in a tender kiss. He couldn’t help but whimper against the prosecutor’s lips, but he hoped to instill every bit of honeyed warmth he could manage- at least until he could properly vocalize.

“You’re my home, my warmth, my dream, my everything,” he eventually murmured, his mouth ghosting against his partner’s, “I love you more than humanely possible. You make me so so happy. There is no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So you’re kinda...stuck with me forever.”

“I would have it no other way. You have me, always.”

“Always. I’m yours.”

The two men stared at each other for numerous beats, glassy eyes peering deeply into each other’s souls. Tears ran down Phoenix’s cheeks, whereas Miles remained unshed and unbroken. But regardless, the intense emotion was palpable, the next step dangling right there for both to grab.

“So then...” Miles whispered.

“So then...” Phoenix quietly returned.

In mirroring each other, in being on the same plane, the two simultaneously lowered to one knee, far slower and less chaotic than the previous time. Instead, it was purposeful, devout, the pair entirely interlocked as they continued. They both presented their respective boxes once more, and shakily prepared for the final step.

“Phoenix Wright?”

“Miles Edgeworth?”

“Would...would you do me the extraordinary honor...and privilege...” Miles started.

“...of becoming my husband?” Phoenix finished.

It was then that he opened his box, with Miles following closely behind. And again, did he come incredibly close to breaking. Again, did he nearly lose hold on reality.

Because of course he and Miles continued to parallel. Of course they both ran with the same idea: The ring the prosecutor was presenting glistened with blue, just as the ring he presented glistened with red. They were gifting each other’s aesthetics. They deeply recognized each other, nodded to each other, and such an element would likely switch the next time they gifted rings.

The next time they gifted rings...

“I’ve waited so long to marry you, Miles...” Phoenix managed to gasp.

“I’ve pictured no one else...”

Phoenix was barely breathing, barely thinking. But still, did the words roll off his tongue, like they had been poised to do for eternity.

“So...yes.”

The preciousness finally broke the nigh impenetrable glass, a single tear rolling down the prosecutor’s cheek as he returned the deepest sentiment.

“Yes.”

Phoenix choked out a pitiful sob, and couldn’t help but tug them both upwards, his mouth finding Miles’ the second they were standing. And it was a wonder how their kiss almost immediately felt different, tasted different. It was sweeter, purer, and more profound. It was like their lips connected in a way they hadn’t before. It was something gorgeous, something new.

Perhaps it was because they were engaged. They were engaged.

Miles Edgeworth was his fiancé.

Another heaving sob from the defense attorney forced the kiss apart, and he opted to simply bury himself against Miles’ neck, beaming and crying all the while. He snuggled as close as he could possibly manage, and relished in the feeling of hands embracing him tightly. There, he attempted to compose himself, but naturally, the opposing man didn’t make things easy.

“Pull yourself together, Wright,” Miles softly jested, his voice thick with moisture, “You’re yanking me down with you.”

“I c-can’t,” he half-laughed half-sobbed.

“Mm...Perhaps I should take advantage and christen your finger with a ring first then...”

Sobs leant more towards laughter then, the defense attorney tightly hugging the prosecutor before leaning back in the embrace.

“N-nice try! We’re still doing this together.”

“We need both hands, silly,” Miles huffed before cocking an amused brow at his partner, “Though, judging by our differing composure, I relinquish my previous statement and deem it appropriate that you go first. Before you collapse on me, that is.”

“God, I love you...” Phoenix laughed, “And yeah, no promises...”

They both snickered, before turning their attention downward. Eyeing the two rings almost choked Phoenix up something terrible, but he managed to hang on by a mere thread. He focused on the band he intended to gift, the essence of his partner, fixating on completing the beautiful tradition. With a hand, he removed the precious ring from its box. And then shakily, softly, reverently, did he grab Miles’ hand with one of his own, and slip the band onto his finger with the other.

He shivered at the sight, at the ring finally resting in its proper place. But he barely had time to process before Miles began to mirror, slipping the opposing ring onto his tanner finger in return.

And then red truly danced with blue. Blue completely intertwined with red. Two colors dazzled and sparkled beside each other- just as they had for years, and would continue to do so for the rest of their days.

Phoenix could do nothing but stare for what seemed like an eternity, his trance only broken by Miles bringing their hands upward. Once more did he press soft kisses to Phoenix’s fingers, the weight of which was far greater now. The defense had no choice but to articulate.

“I’m...I’m going to marry you.”

Phoenix let out another round of gasping breaths, and was sure his smile was going to split his cheeks as he uttered the dreamlike phrase once more.

“Oh my God...I’m going to...marry you, Miles...We’re engaged.”

“We are...” the prosecutor quietly reaffirmed.

Shivering laughs trembled both bodies, before Phoenix gently pried his hands free. He immediately reached to frame Miles’ face, and the new glisten to his finger forced further cascades down his cheeks.

“We did it...” he laughed.

And the expression that had washed over his fiancé’s face was like nothing he had ever seen. It seemed to carry a level of adoration he didn’t even know existed. It seemed to be comprised of more warmth than that of the sun on the horizon. It seemed to be an expression entirely reserved for him.

All of which told Phoenix that he had, in fact, made the best decision of his life. Though, the following murmured word from his beloved hammered it in, cemented them fully on the unified plane.

“Finally...”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet

Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.

so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk

anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are

OH NO HE’S CUTE

HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD

“thanks for being all right” the fuck

who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this

how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here

guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready

anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY

LMAOOOOO

listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things

anyways!!

FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw

STOP BEING CUTE

THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES

and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT

OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.

BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE

YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY

I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code

:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you

FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION

but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji

so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you

oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck

actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE

WOW DABI

I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM

LOL NEVERMIND

gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped

(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)

HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE

WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT

btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun

OOF

excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE

ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??

AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???

and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it

are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??

that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!

anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights

I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol

so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...

OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH

Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON

NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”

EXCUSE ME WHAT

interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!

looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now

you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols

anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top

and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way

anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”

omfg. YOU GUYS

DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD

ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM

BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE

IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS

HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO

LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!

so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”

OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD

ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE

AHHHHH

OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH

lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --

BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC

y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...

  °˖✧◝(￣▿￣)◜✧˖°

[allegra-writes]

“Fool’s gold”

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Sex pollen.

This is an alternative version to my fic "Fireproof", where the reader gets doused by the sex pollen instead of Peter, but you don’t need to have read that first. As any sex pollen fic, this can qualify as non/dub-con, so read at your own discretion and responsability.

Dedicated to @angel-spidey because without her this would have never seen the light of day💓

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Peter knew it was wrong. He knew it. He wasn't delusional enough to believe it was something other than the pollen making you act that way. Making you say those things. You had always been sweet to him, that was true, but you were sweet to everybody, didn't make any difference if they were a janitor or an avenger, it was one of the reasons he liked you so much. 

He also knew he wasn't the only one. His eyes weren't the only pair of eyes that strayed to you in the lab, Harley too seemed to be rather distracted whenever he was in your presence. And in fact, Peter didn't think he had ever seen Steve visit the lab that often before. Ever. And the guy was freaking Captain America, how could he ever compete with that? 

You didn't feel the same way about him, he had resigned to that a long time ago. To watch you from afar. To love you from afar. Because at least that much was true: the only way he knew he beated the other two men, beaten them by a long shot, was that he loved you the most. 

That was why he had left the med bay, because he couldn't stand it, seeing you like that, fighting against your restraints, skin flushed and eyes on fire, calling him, begging him to…

He wasn't able to resist it. 

And why he had walked away from the lab, leaving Bruce and Tony and even Stephen, to wrack their brains trying to find a cure, when the obvious solution was right in front of them. 

That was how he had found himself alone, in the dark, pretending to nap in the little on call room right outside the med bay, still in his suit after that disastrous mission they should have never let you tag along in the first place. Far enough from you not to hear your desperate pleas, but close enough to help if something happened. If the damn alien substance raised your fever enough to- No. He wasn't going to think about that. Dr. Banner was going to come up with an antidote. They still had time. 

Yeah, he knew it was wrong. He knew he should have told FRIDAY to alert mister Stark as soon as he heard the soft sound of your footsteps on the hallway. He knew he should have fled as soon as the knob turned and you entered the room. As you made your way to him. But he was paralized, frozen in place, as you leaned down over him, running your hot, way hotter than normal, hands down his chest, leaving fiery trails in their wake over the thin skin tight fabric of his suit. You raked your nails over his abs, feeling the muscle riple under your touch. 

"Y-you shouldn't be here" He stammered, as your fingertips came close, dangerously close, to the place where his suit was already starting to feel tight around his hips.

"Hmm… but you won't tell on me" your thumb traced the base of his length, a barely there caress that nonetheless had him jumping. "Will you, Peter?"

He breathed you in, another mistake. He could practically smell your desire, leaking through your pores. Pheromones, sweet and mouthwatering. 

He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

Even in the dark, he saw you smile bright at his surrender. Discarding your lab coat, you straddled his hips, little blue skirt riding up your thighs, and released your hair from its ponytail as Peter watched, entranced by your every move. You spread your legs a little more, letting your center come in contact with his by then obvious erection. He could feel your heat through his suit, choking on thin air when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear. 

"F-fuck…" He gasped, eyes rolling back inside his skull as you started rocking above him.

He tried desperately to hold still, to stop himself from bucking his hips up to meet yours, but it was impossible. Every cell in his body telling him to move, to touch, to take what he had wanted for so long. What he had never dared to dream he could have. 

You moaned at the delicious friction you were creating, and you could hear him starting to breathe harder too. He felt amazing, a soothing balm to your burning skin everywhere you touched. This was what you needed, what the chemicals running in your blood demanded. He was warm, and hard, and male. But more than that, he was Peter, and he had to be yours. There was no other way, no other ending for this story. 

You grinded your pelvis against his harder, the pressure on your clit just perfect, the coarse texture of his suit only adding to the sensations. You were making a mess of it, ruining it, but it was worth it just to hear his groan the moment your wetness seeped through the fabric. 

"We can't… we can't do this" Peter tried to protest, even as his hands flew to your waist to aid your movements. 

"Why? Because an alien pollen is messing with my head?" You got rid of your t-shirt, and Peter's reply died in his throat, you weren't wearing a bra either "because it's wrong? Because It's dirty and-"

A wounded sound left Peter's mouth, a wordless surrender, a sob at his own damnation, and he snapped, his fragile control finally shattering to pieces. One second you were on top of him, teasing him within an inch of his life, and the next you were trapped between the soft mattress and his hard body, as his lips ravished yours, one hand roughly massaging your breasts, the other slipping under your skirt, searching blindly, fingertips digging into the delicate skin of your inner thighs. He was furious in his onslaught, desperation clear in the way he was kissing you, all teeth and tongue. Greedy. Ravenous. 

Because if this was all he was ever going to get, just one night with you, as you used him to scratch an itch, then he was going to make the most of it. He was going to commit every little detail to memory: The shape of your body under his, the taste of your skin, the smell of your hair, vanilla and cinnamon and something else, something uniquely you. The sweet little moans falling from your lips. 

"Peter, please"

He almost died when you said his name like that, breathless and needy.

"What do you need, princess?" He sobbed, "Anything… it's yours…just-"

"You. I need you" You replied, graceless fingers clawing at his suit, "take it off, please, I need to feel you"

He obeyed, pressing the spider on his chest and practically kicking it off in his haste to return to you. You welcomed him back with open arms and open legs, as he crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he could find in the way. Your breath hitched when he got to that little spot just under your breast, and you could feel his smile against the curve of it, right before his lips enveloped your left nipple, calloused fingers circling the other one clumsily, unskilled. But you were too delirious, too far gone to notice, the miles of skin against yours both soothing and stroking the fire within at the same time. 

You cried out,

"Peter! Please, it hurts so much, please! I- I can't-"

He kissed the tears away, softly, delicately. A stark contrast to his own demeanour just minutes ago.

"I-it's ok. I got you" He cooed, caressing your face "I'll make it better. I promise" 

He braced himself on one arm, elbow digging into the mattress next to your face, as he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around himself, aligning with your center. It took him a few tries, even slipping out once. He had no idea what he was doing, only knew that you needed him, and he wasn't going to let you down. Your life depended on it, and it was too important, too precious for him to even think of failing. 

You raised your hips just a bit, and he was sliding in, easily, so easily, as if he was meant for it. As if your bodies were two pieces of the same puzzle, finally falling into place. 

"Oh god…"

You clutched as his shoulders, burying your hiss into his neck. 

"Oh my god are okey? Did I hurt you?" The panic in Peter's voice made you smile despite yourself. He was still Peter, the sweetest most caring guy you had ever met. Soft, even with his hard cock so deep inside you, you could feel it in your soul, in your very essence, already claiming you as his. 

But you didn't need gentle. You didn't want him to thread softly. You needed hard, and fast, and more.

"Peter… fuck me"

"I-..." His eyes met yours, and you saw a new determination in them, jaw squaring as he withdrew almost completely, only to surge again, tearing a new cry from your lips. 

He let instinct take over, starting to thrust in and out of you, your tight, silky heat making his eyes roll inside his head

"Fuck! Oh god… oh my god… you feel…" He panted, amazed, handsome face scrunching in pleasure, eyes closed and mouth slack, "Fuck, you feel so good!" 

You wanted to reply, to tell him how amazing he felt too, every inch of his thick hard cock stretching you just right. Every ridge, every vein sending shocks of pleasure to your body until you couldn't see straight. You could feel you peak already building, with every delicious drag.

"More… Peter, please… more" 

How could he say no, when you were begging so prettily in his ear, hand tugging at his curls making it hurt so good? He picked up his pace, hips slapping against yours. Over, and over, and over… 

You were still on fire, every inch of your skin alight, exploding in sensation but it didn't burn anymore. Now it was a simmering warmth, making everything sharper, more intense. Better than anything you had ever felt before. He was better than anything you had felt before. 

And Peter was lost in you, in your moans, in your body, in your cunt. In the way you were taking him, consuming him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle, letting him reach deeper, bury himself almost to the hilt. Your blunt nails digging into his back until he smelt blood. 

He fucking loved it, love the idea of carring your marks even after this was over. He knew he wanted you to wear his. 

His lips found your neck almost of their own accord, sucking and nibbling until the sounds leaving your throat were nothing short of pornographic, the wanton whines and moans resonating in the room until he was sure Bruce and Tony could hear them all the way to the lab. 

"Yes, scream for me baby girl, let them know how good I'm fucking you" Peter didn't know where it was coming from, that arrogance, that… possesivenes. He knew you weren't really his. It was the pollen, you would never be doing this otherwise. And he probably wasn't that good, it was his first time after all. 

But your cries, the way your whole body was trembling under his, were giving him confidence. 

"Oh god… you're coming for me, aren't you? You gonna come on my cock?" 

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, and he almost fell on top of you taken by surprise by the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock for the first time ever, triggering his own release. But he didn't have time to recover before you croaked a weak but firm, 

"More" 

He met your eyes, stunned, but all he found there was assurance and passion. 

He turned around on the small bed so it was you the one on top. 

"Ride me" 

You didn't need to be told twice, straightening on top of him, rising slightly on your knees only to let yourself fall back down, impaling yourself on his dick. He licked his lips, looking like a king with a hand behind his head, gazing up at you through hooded eyes. 

"Show me"

"What?" 

He gestured towards the mini skirt you forgot you were still wearing. 

"Lift up that pretty skirt, and let me see how good you take my cock" 

A little whine left your mouth at his words, and you did as you were told, never stopping your bouncing motions.

It worked as Peter imagined it would, his softening cock coming to life again as he watched it disappear inside you. 

"Look at that" he whispered, almost in awe, "such a beautiful pussy, looks so pretty, stuffed full of my cock…" 

You picked up your rhythm, a little unstable on shaky legs, both hands still holding the fabric up and out of the way.

"Peter…" you whimpered. 

"What do you need, baby girl? I told you, anything you want is yours… I'm yours" 

You moaned, incapable to find the words. Thinking was impossible, speaking was inconceivable, not with him still between your legs.

He bucked his hips, 

"Uh!" 

"That what you want, princess?" He smirked, smug, "Like it better when I give it to you?"

You nodded, shamelessly, your legs burning with the effort but stopping was not an option. He sat up on the bed, enveloping you with his arms, thrusting up into you faster, deeper…

You felt the head of his cock stab your cervix, and he must have felt it too, because he groaned, eyes glazing over. 

"Can you feel me? Feel how deep I am?"

"Yes" You hissed.

"Gonna come like this…" He took hold of your hips, bringing you down hard as he thrusted up, "come so deep inside you… mark you… from the inside" 

You could feel it approaching fast, the pleasure he was inflicting on you too much, too soon. 

"Fill you up so good…"

"Yes"

"Until it's gushing out of you… and then… gonna fuck you again…"

"Yes!"

"Come inside you again… make you my little cumslut…"

"Yes! Please… please give it to me"

He could feel you tense around him again,

"What do you need, princess?"

"Your come" You screamed, "Give me your come, Peter!"

"Fuck! My pretty little slut… take it… Take it!"

And you did.

…

You passed out somewhere between rounds five and six, utterly sated and exhausted, but Peter couldn't sleep, terrified of the moment you woke up, all the pollen consumed, the spell broken. He knew it wasn't real, but for a few hours, he had been happy, pretending you truly did love him, wanted him, as he had loved and wanted you since the first time he had seen you, all that time ago, the day mister Stark had entered the lab with you in tow, announcing Peter that he had a new lab partner. 

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, relaxed and happy, when he heard the buzzing coming from your lab coat, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! What happened? Please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It messes your hormones and hers up with every fluid exchange! Like an artificial heath”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance fucking up his brain, maybe he was the one fucked up, all by himself, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as horrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

The end.

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale

Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort

Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.

Word Count: 2459

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253

You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.

Deep breath in.

The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.

Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.

One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.

Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.

Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.

You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.

As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.

Not cold enough. Try harder.

A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.

Still not good enough.

You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,

‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’

There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.

He is almost luminous.

One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.

You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.

Or maybe you’d died?

As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.

‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’

You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.

‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.

‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.

Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.

‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.

The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.

You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.

As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.

Some kind of miracle?

The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.

‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.

‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.

‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.

Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.

With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.

No one’s every asked you that before, have they?

The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.

Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.

As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.

‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.

‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’

You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.

‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’

As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.

With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.

‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.

Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’

Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.

As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.

—

Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.

Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.

‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.

‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.

‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.

‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.

‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.

‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.

Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.

[fyodorsslut]

Wrists- Bakugou Katsuki

Requested by: @toomanyotpslove​

 A/N: both of us can’t remember what the request was sadly, but I still have the story and find it very much worth publishing!! So, here we are! It’s not the type of thing I’d usually write, honestly, but I tried

AU: Fantsy!Au

Pairings: Dragon Lord! Bakugou x shape shifter! fem! reader

Genre: Fluff, some angst (?), comfort

play: Particular Taste by Shawn Mendes

Warnings: Not proof read, mention of physical abuse, child abuse, blood, mention of killing, reader triggered, enslaving, dehumanizing, bruises

He learnt to never touch her wrists.

  So, when he accidentally pulls her back by her still-bruised wrist, her reaction doesn’t surprise him too much.

  When Y/n jumps back, startled, clutching onto her wrist like she’s doing it for dear life, with her mesmerizing y/e/c eyes shot awide, Katsuki isn’t even surprised. A good 12 years of living with her have taught him this much, at least.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he coughs vaguely, gulping and watching out for any sign of an abnormal reaction. Even though it’s been long, Y/n’s mentality isn’t that stable and any small trigger could be like a bomb, and the explosion is her turning into some animal and losing control over herself.    “It’s alright,” Y/n sighs, rubbing  a thumb against her wrist.

  “You sure?” with a little tilt of his head, Katsuki takes a closer step towards scared Y/n. “You good?”   “Yeah,” she smiled, nodding. It took a lot of Katsuki not to push further. Instead, he nods in concern, wary of the apology he now owes her

   A few years back, or so he recalls, was when he met her.

                                              (12 years ago)

  The shore was so thick with humid, too much humid he couldn’t breathe properly. His small, bare arms prickle with the sensation of moisture, minuscule droplets too small to see dancing over his skin. The 6 years old boy stretches a little, moving his fingers in tiny circles, stirring up the cloying warmth hanging over the seashore.

  Sniffing, he grimaces, the light breeze smells of fires doused by the passing rain. His small features scrunch, the kid at the castle, went out fishing or such. Instead, he was here, with his parents and some lieutenants, checking on what’s coming in and out the country.

   Dazing away from his parents, he runs a hand through the flowers blooming from boxes along the pathway. The dirt around them is still wet from the passing rains and a particularly exuberant gardener. Behind him, more flowering veins run  up the brick walls and rocks, these people love there flowers. The explode in various shades, thriving in this climate-

  That’s when he spots it. Her

  A few men bulk up, trying to casually hide it, tensing at the presence of the king and queen, clearly not have been expecting it. But, from the heir’s vantage point, he saw the girl clearly, Bruised, chained up so movement is very uncomfortable. Some leather, cage muzzle sat disturbingly on her mouth and wrapped around her head. With clearly barely any movement, the girl’s body could go through so much harms, aside from the position she’s sat in.

  It’s almost terrifying, goosebumps crawling up the young boy’s body.

  “Katsuki?” A gentle voice calls for the ash blonde. He slightly flinches, ripping his gaze off the girl in chains. He looks at his mother in a frightened manner.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Shakily, he points a weak finger towards the cage.

  Holding a hand out, he manages to pull the abashed girl out. She has an air of misuse and neglect. Skinny and barely able to balance her weak form on her own.

  Katsuki softly takes the muzzle off. He smiles at the face in front of him, only to be met by wide eyes and trembling lips.

  “Are you okay?”

  Flinch.

  A small hand grips into the back of his dress shirt. A certain body’s heat closing up to him.

  “She won’t do anything, not even eat. She spoke no words, and is continuously clenching onto the prince.”

   Young Katsuki didn’t understand what was going on as the nurse spoke to his mom. A clan murdered? People... haunted? He didn’t mind her huddling onto him the way she did. He heard she’s a shape shifter, what is that? 

  “Shipped, enslaved, and sold in the black market. She’s a special, these ones cost a fortune there.”

  He didn’t understand, sure. But he still knew whatever this girl has been through, it’s trauma. He knew that from how the words sounded, and from the look on his mother’s face, he’s never seen her more disgusted his whole life, not even when he eats his mucus.

   He glances at her, bruises clouding her freshly cleaned cheeks, one eye purple. Her arms and hands were the same, too. When her eyes catch his, she looks down immediately, pulling away as an embarrassed red paints her cheeks.

   “Katsuki...” The king slowly kneels before his son. “What do you think?”    “What do you mean?” He raises a light eyebrow, confusion written on his face with wide letters.

   The king glances over to his prideful wife, who only softly shrugs, both unaware of what to do with the girl who could’ve possibly ended up reduced to some lifeless corpse in a few more days of starvation. They don’t get to ask Katsuki more than he’s already done; finding the girl. Yet, it seems as though the almighty king and queen, for the first time, are out of any other options.

  “Would you mind staying with her until we figure out how to help her do things on her own?” His brunette father spoke gently, simplifying the words so that the young, stubborn prince could understand much of it.

   “I’m not a kid,” He huffs, annoyance unjustified. “Of course I’ll help her around. That’s my job.”

  A scream erupts from her lips before she could help it. Her eyes immediately shot shut as she holds out her arms in defense, ready for the punishment for being so loud.

  “Hey, easy there,” The man at the infirmary smiles gently at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “She doesn’t want anyone touching her wrists,” Katsuki confirms, watching over them closely like an examiner over a test. The doctor helping figure out her bruises as y/n flinches like a spooked animal.    “Manacles trauma,” he nods. “These monsters really did their business.”

  “Katsukiiiii,” she whines, helplessly running. “Slow down a little!”   “Not a chance!” Her friend chuckles aloud, tugging at the blindfolded girl’s hand as his legs take off, fleeting against the floor of the castle.

   He comes to a sudden stop, pulling Y/n to stop too. 

  “Why’d you stop?” she questions, tightening her grip over his small fingers.    “Shh, we’re here,” he talks, smiling agape as attempts to control his uncontrollable excitement.

  His hand leaves hers, clutching on to the blindfold at the back of her head. Swiftly, he rids her of the void she was staring into.

  The sight she was outlet into was like an ambush to her feelings. Unable to form any words or create a reaction other than a stuttered “is this for me?”

   “Do you... yes! It’s yours! Do you like it?” The young ash blonde asks excitedly, watching over the girl’s reaction. “It’s even right next to mine!” 

   She turns to him, tears filling her pretty y/e/c eyes. Before he realized it, she’s pulled him into a tight embrace, sobbing for some reason unbeknownst to him.

  “Thank you.”

                                   ( Back to the present )

   “Can we go back inside now?” He felt her breath before he heard her voice, straight up nauseous from the amount of people gathered up in such feast.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever,” he grumbles under his breath. He sounds annoyed, but it’s no sweat for his lover to slip past his well-made façade.

  “Thank you, Katsu,” She presses a soft kiss on his cheek. Even though he knows no one saw, due to their position at the far corner of the room, his cheeks rise a flame. He immediately grimaces, you could practically see steam fuming from his ears as he, without any ado, stomps inside puling  the girl alongside.

  “I sure hope you have a proper explanation for that, princess,” He folds two strong, muscular arms onto his bare chest. The multiple necklaces and animal teeth almost scrambling away from his arms.    “Explanation for what?” Y/n raised a brow, playing dumb. She smiles softly, twirling a lock of y/h/c hair around her index finger, knowing damn well the practiced act does the trick.

  “Tch,”he rolls his eyes. Only throwing himself on the couch. “Sit here, idiot,” he pats the spot beside him in a soft manner, indicating he’s about to start a sensitive conversation.

  Gracefully, Y/n places herself on the couch, placing he r head on Katsuki’s broad shoulder. His arm wraps around her waist like it always does, scooting her closer as it finds rest on her thigh ((stfu-)).

  “This morning you were... crying?” He spoke softly, unable to find the perfect way to speak in this specific situation.

  Y/n takes a deep breath, fingers fidgeting with Katsuki’s fingers. “Nightmares,” she admits.   “The same one?”   “I think,” she shrugs, gulping. “I can only remember the faces of.. you know.”

  By the way her fingers slightly squeezed his, Bakugou knew he should stop the conversation there.

  “Don’t worry,” his voice was so, very low she could barely hear him. He presses a tender kiss on the top of her head, letting his lips take the weight of her whole  head, finding rest at that spot. “No one will harm you as long as I’m here,” his voice sent slight vibrations through her head, as he inhales the familiar scent of her hair. “And you know I’m too stubborn to die, anyway.”

  “Wow, very comforting, Katsuki,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.   “Shut up,” he blurts, flustered.    “I love you too, Katsu,” She held his hand with both hers, printing continuous pecks on it.

  His hand grips her cheek, the other gripping the opposite.  Fixing his seating, he pulls her face upwards, planting a firm and fiery kiss that’s too short for her liking on her soft lips.

  Unlike the rest of the shapeshifters, and unlike most of the the population she lives amongst in this country,  Y/n’s a soft, curious soul. Not made for a harsh living or to be put against anything. Yet, the fire in her only ever lured people, the difference in her. Of all people, the heir to the dragon throne, Katsuki Bkugou. 

  “Fuck you for being like this,” his ruby eyes bore into hers, unable to find a single flaw.

  Both the kids’ hearts raced in their chests.

   He learnt to never touch her wrists, instead, he touched her soul to anchor her

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Part 11

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-10 and one-shots in this universe can be found in the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Jamie stayed up with Olivia until 2 a.m. playing video games to take their minds off of the night’s events when Serena finally came home. She didn’t talk to either of them despite Jamie asking if she was okay and Olivia telling her that she loved her. Olivia didn’t know who this woman was that walked through the door. She was fragile and worn down, nothing like the vibrant woman she knew. Olivia was used to giving her mom a hug every time she got home, but this time there was no talking to her, no touching her, and Olivia felt for the first time in her life that her mom wished she hadn’t been born. The only words she heard from her after a few minutes was her mom yelling at her to go to bed.

...but she didn’t go to bed. Instead, Olivia left her bedroom door slightly ajar so she could peek down the hall.

Olivia didn’t know how it happened, but Jamie was able to embrace her mom and Serena clinged to her and smiled some goofy smile that Olivia had once seen in a romantic comedy, until she remembered she and her mom didn’t actually watch romantic comedies. Or was that a horror movie before the woman went on a rampage and killed the man who wronged her? Either way, she’s actually smiling.

“I’m sorry our first full night together didn’t go according to plan,” she heard her mom say to Jamie.

Olivia didn’t remember falling asleep and, when she woke up the next morning, the noises she heard from down the hall made her feel as if she had woken up in another universe. She heard pans clinking in the kitchen and the sound of her mom laughing. Oh my god, she killed my dad with a frying pan and she’s laughing about it. But Olivia quickly shook that thought from her head and took a deep breath before walking down the hall.

“...Mom?” Olivia hesitated.

“I’m in the kitchen, Olliegator!” she heard her mom call out.

She walked in to find Jamie standing in front of the stove, making omelets and her mom sitting on the counter, eating from a bowl of shredded cheese. She was smiling and happy and Olivia began to wonder if last night had even happened at all or if it was just a horrible dream.

“Morning, Ollie. Your mom has been banished to the counter,” Jamie informed her. “She kept trying to do non-stick pan demonstrations, but she couldn’t do them without making the omelets fly out of the pan and onto the floor. I figured the bowl of cheese will keep her happy, though.”

“Treating me like a common mouse,” Serena scoffed. “Do I at least have permission to get off of the counter so I could talk to my daughter?”

“Permission granted,” Jamie responded, too preoccupied with the omelets to care if Serena got off the countertop.

While sitting on the couch in the living room, there wasn’t a single moment of awkward silence before Olivia felt herself wrapped up in her mom’s embrace. She was holding her close and giving her kisses on the cheek to make Olivia giggle, which made her more confused than ever. It’s like last night never even happened.

“My Ollie,” her mom said as she hugged her again. “My sweet baby. I’m so sorry I hurt you last night.”

“It's okay."

She felt her mom cup her face in her hands. "I need you to listen to me, Olivia. It's never okay for anyone to hurt you, especially me. I’m your mom and I should always protect you.”

“Mom?”

Her mom kissed her wrist where she had roughly grabbed it the night before. “Does it still hurt? Do you need ice? Olliegator, please tell me how I can make it up to you? I’ll get you anything. I’ll get you the bat you’ve been wanting.” Her mom shook her head. “No, that’ll make it seem like I’m buying your forgiveness. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so bad at this.”

“Buying my forgiveness is okay,” Olivia smiled. “I’ll take the bat.”

“I bet you will,” her mom playfully pulled her onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her waist. “My big baby. You’re growing so fast. You’re almost as tall as me now.”

“Mom?” Olivia asked nervously.

“Yes, Ollie?”

“What you said earlier...you’re not bad at this,” Olivia averted her eyes. “And this whole you being in love thing...I guess it’s okay. Jamie played video games with me last night while you were with Uncle Kyle. I really like her. I just don’t like her kissing you. No one is supposed to be kissing my mom.”

“No one?”

Olivia turned around to face her. “Just me,” she said after giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She saw her mom give her that dopey smile that meant she was feeling soft and sentimental. 

“Okay, only you.” Olivia felt her mom’s fingers combing through her hair. “I know what you can do for your science project.” With everything that had happened around her in the course of twelve hours, Olivia had completely forgotten about her science project. Even if it was a significant portion of her grade, it all felt so trivial in comparison to meeting her dad. “When I was in middle school, my best friend and I did a cupcake geology project and made cupcakes with different layers to represent the earth. Instead of your classmates just observing the project, they’ll get their own cupcakes and straws to use to simulate what it’s like to drill and collect core samples. I’ll help you bake them.”

Olivia gave her a confused look. “But you can’t bake.”

“Then I’ll help you convince Jamie to bake them,” Serena playfully touched her finger to the tip of Olivia’s nose. “Come on, Olliegator. I think breakfast is almost ready.”

“Race you to the kitchen. First one there gets the cheesiest omelet.” Olivia took off running but felt her mom wrap her arms around her waist from behind and push ahead of her. “Mom! That’s cheating!”

....but the moment her mom stepped foot in the kitchen, Jamie scooped her up and refused to let her go. “Get the cheesy one, Ollie. She’s trapped.”

Olivia raced toward the plate with the cheesy omelet and piled some hash browns next to it. She looked back at her mom who was still struggling to get away from Jamie’s embrace. “Jamie! Now I have to have the veggie omelet.”

“Serena, you ate half a bowl of cheese this morning!” Jamie released her once Olivia was sitting down with her breakfast. “I did it on purpose, babe. When was the last time you ate a vegetable that wasn’t on a pizza?”

“I ate a chicken caesar wrap for lunch two days ago,” Serena pointed out as she begrudgingly piled some hash browns next to her veggie omelet.

Jamie came up to hug her from behind and Olivia couldn’t help but giggle when she saw her mom pout. “Yeah and I bet you doused it in dressing,” Jamie smirked.

“She’s just gonna cover this in ketchup anyway and that’s loaded with sugar,” Olivia told Jamie although she had just squirted ketchup onto her own hash browns. “And not just the hash browns either. She covers her omelets, too.”

“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” her mom asked as she poured what remained of the shredded cheese onto her omelet when Jamie wasn’t looking. “Are you two going to call me out on all of my eating habits?”

As her mom really didn’t know how to cook, a homemade breakfast was a rare treat in the Benson household. On weekend mornings, they usually ordered from Doordash or went to her mom’s favorite coffee shop for bagels. Weekday mornings were always hectic between Olivia rushing to get ready for school and her mom getting ready for work so she’d scarf down a Pop Tart while her mom grabbed a cereal bar and some coffee in a tumbler. But sitting at the table that morning, just the three of them, eating a breakfast that Jamie cooked and talking and laughing made Olivia feel like they could eventually be a family and her mom could be happy like this every morning. 

“What’s on your mind, Olliegator?” her mom asked as tousled her hair. 

She wanted to tell her mom that she was happy for her and that her being in love was one of the best things that could happen to the two of them. She wanted to tell her that she was going to meet her dad so she could alleviate some of the guilt. Olivia still didn’t know what happened between the two of them, but she held onto the hope that it was a fight－something they could finally work out－and when they did, Olivia would have a relationship with her dad. She didn’t want her parents together now that she knew how much her mom loved Jamie and how much Jamie loved her mom, but she still hoped that he could go to her games and maybe she could spend every other weekend at his house like all the other kids she knew whose parents were divorced. She thought about what her grandma said about going to Disneyland and she wanted to tell her that she’d do anything for the chance to ride the teacups with Alex, but none of the words formed.

“I’m just thinking about how good the cheesy omelet is.”

[sailtoafarawayland]

The Chicken Debacle

Summary:  There’s nothing Emma loves more than watching her husband work up a sweat, but being right certainly comes in a close second. In which a hot day, a flock of fowl, and a naughty Emma work together to make good use of some patio furniture. 

Rating: Explicit 

Tags: Humor, Pregnant Emma, Pregnant Sex  

Many thanks to all of my lovelies over on the discord - a truly inspiring bunch who prompted my muse to take what was a rather frustrating real life situation and turn it into something a bit more fun, and a bit more naughty.  

AO3 - FF

The Chicken Debacle

“You're not going to help?” Killian asked, eyebrows darting up in surprise as he swept his arm across the backyard, gesturing toward the small flock of chickens currently digging through the garden and flower beds.

Emma caught the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks warming as she bit back a smile.

“Nope, sorry, babe,” she shrugged, running her hands down the large swell of her stomach, “I probably shouldn't be chasing chickens seven months pregnant. Besides, I'm not the one who forgot to shut the latch on the gate.”

His eyes narrowing at her accusation, Killian looked as if he were about to argue, but finally sighed and started toward the closest chicken, the heavyset, yellow fowl bobbing her head suspiciously as he drew near, her feathers ruffling as she shook herself and pecked viciously at the ground – readying herself for a fight, Killian imagined.

“I'll keep you company though,” Emma called out, grabbing her iced tea and laying back on the lounger – smothering a laugh behind her hand as her husband leaped toward the chicken only to have it kick up a cloud of mulch in his face and dart between his legs, making for the nearest bush.

“I'm very grateful indeed,” her husband quipped as he turned and reevaluated the situation, casting his eyes around the yard to see if there was anything he could use to ensnare the unsuspecting birds. “Enjoying your iced tea, Swan?”

“Yup, delicious,” she purred, enjoying the way the hot sun was glancing off the sheen on his chest, the summer hot enough that even the smallest amount of activity outside was enough to make them both sweat. “Perfect for a hot day – oh, our little one just kicked!”

A look of genuine contentment washed over Emma's face as she rested her free hand on her belly, her hair falling to frame her cheeks as she whispered something he couldn't hear to the child growing within her – and just like that the frustration fell from his shoulders, replaced with a love so deep he wouldn't begrudge his beautiful wife anything, not even the opportunity to hold something as trivial as the chicken gate over his head, but...that didn't mean he couldn't make his Swan work up a sweat of her own while doing it.

Emma had just looked up from the gently undulating swell of her belly when she saw Killian standing in the middle of their yard, his fingers folded around the edge of his shirt as he lifted the hem up and over his body, his abs and pectorals flexing as he tossed it to the ground nearby, shoulders rolling as he stretched and eyed the closest chicken with a determination Emma recognized immediately– those poor birds were in for it.

She watched as he lunged forward, his sneakers shifting in the grass as he chased the chicken toward a corner of the fencing, just managing to snatch it by the leg before carefully folding its wings in and lowering her over the fence back into the run, the only sign of a bruised ego some few ruffled feathers.

He rounded on the next bird, a smaller one that Emma liked to call Cinnamon – although they were pretty sure she'd never laid, and were somewhat concerned she didn't seem to know she was a chicken at all, preferring to spend her time stubbornly following around the chipmunks and squirrels that frequented the yard. While she wasn't the smartest of the bunch, she was quick, and Emma had to bite back a chuckle as Killian stumbled more than once trying to get near her – eventually giving up and moving on to the larger fowl digging in the raspberries.

Emma enjoyed the cool slip of iced tea down her throat as she feasted on her husband – his skin glistening in the sun as he moved, each hard line and muscle calling out to be touched, stroked, lavished with the sweep of her tongue as she slid her palms over the ridged planes of his stomach, moving lower until she could curl her fingers around the waistband of his shorts and slowly peel them down, her nose parting the thatch of dark curls that surrounded his thick, glorious –

“Ha!” Killian let out a triumphant yell, drawing Emma's mind back to what he was doing, two rather disgruntled looking hens fidgeting in his arms as he hurried them back to the pen and plopped them over the fence.

Her eyes were locked on her husband as he paused to catch his breath, his biceps curling as he ran his hands through his inky mop of hair, a curtain of it falling once more over his face as he bent and tightened the laces on one of his shoes, giving her an eyeful of just how firm and perfect his ass was in those particular shorts – if her husband wasn't made in the image of the gods, then she wasn't sure there ever was such a thing.

The straw she'd been sucking on finally let out a loud gurgle as she drained the last of her drink, her cheeks flushed as Killian turned around and shot her a look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, and indeed, as she shifted on the lounger, she could feel her desire slick and wet between her legs – but there was still one chicken left to catch – Cinnamon, and her pirate wasn't one to give up before the job was done. She set the glass down on the patio, her fingers brushing against the firm coil of the hose they used for watering the garden, and as she watched Killian sprint across the yard after the last, stubborn bird, she got a perfectly wicked idea.

He'd made a few passes around the yard, Cinnamon dodging into the raspberries when he rooted her out of the garden, but no matter how quick he was, she was faster, her beady eyes never leaving him as she pranced through the grass like a tiny, cheeky dinosaur, always just out of arm's reach. It wasn't until he paused mid yard to catch his breath that Emma struck, the hose already primed and ready as she pulled the trigger and let a spray of cool water douse him, his muscles tensing as he jumped out of range and spluttered, wiping the rivulets of clear water from his eyes, his hair plastered to his head.

“Oh, you'll pay for that, Swan,” he promised, stepping forward with a dark intensity that had her scooting back on the lounge chair, her hands raised in front of her to ward off any tickling he was likely make her suffer.

“You looked so hot,” she begged, her voice rising an octave as he drew closer, droplets spraying from his hair as he shook his head and graced her with a sinful smirk, “hot and thirsty...I just thought – ”

She was about to scream, her body already on edge at the mere thought that he might tickle her, but then he stopped, both of their heads swiveling to the garden shed where they could here the clamor of something knocking and a plaintive bock that sounded for all the world like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

“Well, your punishment will just have to wait, love – that's too good an opportunity to pass up,” Killian grinning, walking swiftly to the shed where Emma could just see the fluffy bottom of Cinnamon framed by two flapping wings, her head stuck in the open neck of an old water can.

Triumphantly, Killian picked up both the bird and the can, soothing her with quiet sounds as he coaxed her free and dropped her back into the pen with her sisters, her soft orange feathers looking only a little worse for the wear as she rejoined the flock with a confused warble.

Emma's heart thumped in her chest as her husband finally turned his attention back to her, no more chickens to distract him, and advanced across the yard, the ripple of his muscles as he moved making her core clench and her nipples harden beneath her tank top – fuck if she didn't always want him, and pregnancy hadn't done anything but make that need more sharp, more constant.

“Killian,” she pleaded, licking her lips as he strode toward her, that same determination she'd seen earlier now focused entirely on her. “You could have gotten heat stroke. It's got to be ninety – ”

She yelped as his large hands gripped the bottom of the lounge chair and pulled it closer, its wheels grating against the patio as she held on, her bare foot running along the side of her leg in anticipation.

“You were quite right, love – I was getting quite thirsty.” Letting go of the chair, he kept his blue gaze locked on hers as his palms traced the firm lines of her calves, pressing deliciously into her muscles and sliding up towards her thighs as he leaned closer, “and now that you've sated that need, I can focus on more important matters.”

“Oh?” she breathed, every other part of her brain shutting down as her body screamed for him to touch her, to  take her right there on the lounge chair, “and what would that be?”

“Well, a bit of hard labor always makes a man hungry, Swan,” he growled, his hands swiveling to press against the inside of her knees, her legs falling open on the lounger as he filled the space between them, his fingers deftly pulling the adjustment on the side of the chair and carefully lowering the head rest so she was nearly flat, her view of him suddenly blocked by the roundness of their child – it was the only thing she missed, being able to see him so sinfully enjoying himself between her legs.

“And I intend to enjoy every last bite of my dessert,” he finished, his fingers making her jump as they brushed against her inner thigh, pushing the light fabric of her shorts and panties to the side as he exposed her. “I knew you'd already be sopping wet for me, love...”

Emma whimpered as she felt the welcome press of his stubbled cheek against her leg, his breath hot against her damp folds for only an instant before the sensation was washed away by his tongue lightly dragging through her arousal, her back arching as he curled the tip of it around her clit, just barely nudging beneath its hood to tease the sensitive nerves within.  

“Oh my god,” she hissed, her fingers wrapping tightly around the edges of the lounger as she pushed forward, desperate to have his mouth sealed over her, sucking and licking and making her feel as if she could shatter with one flick of his tongue – knowing she would. “Killian, please...”

“Now be a good girl,” he whispered, pulling back as she writhed closer. “I intend to savor this, just as you savored watching me chase those bothersome fowl around the yard.”

“You shouldn't have forgotten to lock the door,” Emma whined – why she was arguing, she wasn't sure, after all, it wasn't talking she wanted his mouth occupied with.

“Ah, but I didn't let the chickens out this morning,” he chided, licking a stripe along her leg before returning to her drenched folds, teasing along the edges of them as he drank down her essence. “I was dropping Henry off at work, if you recall.”

“Oh!” Emma gasped as his tongue slipped into her, stroking another wave of wetness from her walls as his lips massaged her flesh – oh, that was right, she remembered it now, letting them out, dropping the lid to the feed bin on her foot and forgetting to latch the gate. “Oh my god....fuck...Killian, please...”

She could feel his grin against her as he pushed her legs wider, the top of his head bumping against her belly as he moved up. The flat of his tongue licked straight through her wetness and encircled her clit, his lips pursing as he sucked on her small, swollen nub, his scruff razing her thighs and countering the overwhelming roll of pleasure that was spiraling between her legs.    

“So delicious, Emma,” he moaned between her sharp gasps, leaving her only a moment's relief before he returned to making her crumble around him, alternating between sucking and laving her clit, his fingers reaching between them to slide into her tight sheath, her walls grasping and pulling as soon as he entered, eager to be filled. “I could feast on you like this all day...”

Something between a cry and a scream fell from her lips as she clutched the lounger, the pleasure building in her core spiraling and writhing and threatening to pull her apart as his rough fingers stroked her swollen walls, his tongue darting down to swallow every drop of arousal that was slipping from her, his breath fast and needy against her hot flesh – and then with a rough press of his fingers and soft flicks of his tongue, she was falling, tumbling, breaking apart around his mouth as her orgasm rolled through her like a storm.

She eased her hips up without realizing what was happening, Killian's strong hands caressing her flesh at the same time he slipped her shorts from her body, leaving her half clothed in their backyard, her mind still spinning from his incredible mouth, the sounds of the outdoors and the cars in the distance only just filtering back to her.

“That was...”

“I know,” he smirked, tossing her shorts to patio as he hooked his fingers into his own and drew them down over the impressive length of his cock, its swollen thickness bobbing against his stomach with urgency, “and now that I've eaten, I think we can move onto taking care of my other needs.”

“Killian,” she rasped, her words muffled against the material of the lounger as he gently lifted and guided her, turning her still reeling body over so that her hips were raised in the air, her sopping folds open and framed by her pale thighs as her face rested against the cushion.

“Yes, love,” he hummed, drawing a groan from her as he ran his cock through her folds, coating it in her arousal before slapping it cheekily against her bottom. “Is there something you wanted to say, perhaps?”

“I left the...accidentally...” she mumbled, coherent thought fleeing her as she felt the thick press of the head of his cock against her pleading center, her folds parting around its velvet roundness as he slowly entered her.

“What was that, darling?” His hardness slid unhurriedly into her, his strong hands holding her achingly in place as she sought that burning fullness that came when he was in her completely, but her walls pulsed longingly around just the tip of him, anticipating when they would be stretched to their limit.

“Fuck...Killian, please, need you in me...all of you,” she begged, wriggling against his grip as he grunted and gave her a few shallow thrusts, the swollen head of his cock so close to that sensitive, ribbed place inside of her that would scream with pleasure as he rolled over it.

“Aye, I know what you need, Swan, but you won't get it just yet...” He pulled out slowly, his fingers grasping her full bottom and squeezing as he watched his cock slip from her, only the flushed, glistening edges of her folds still brushing against his sensitive flesh. “Not until you admit what you did.”

“I forgot,” she hissed in a rush of air, pushing hard against his grasp, his nails almost certainly leaving red marks in her pale skin as she struggled to slide herself back onto his hard length, needing it like she needed to breath. “I left the gate open for the chickens to get – get out...”

“There we are, Swan,” he crooned, his grip easing as he swatted her on the bottom and leaned forward, a keening whimper falling from her mouth as he lodged himself completely within her, her nails dragging across the cushion as she rolled her hips to adjust to his girth. “Now was that so hard?”

She would have laughed if she didn't think she would cry from how amazing it felt to have him buried inside of her, every inch of her core throbbing around him and begging to be stroked by his beautiful cock.

“Very hard,” she breathed, squeezing his member inside of her and reveling in the deep groan it pulled from his chest, a mischievous smile twisting her lips.  “Are you mad at me?”

“Never, Emma,” he whispered, his words ghosting along her back as he leaned over her and placed a reverent kiss to her shoulder, his hand trailing along her body until it came to rest against her swollen stomach, drawing small circles against her taut skin. “There's nothing I love more than indulging the beautiful...” He thrust roughly into her, her cry of pleasure lodging between his ribs like the most exquisite knife as he withdrew “...forgetful...”      Another drive of his hips buried him in her once more, her body trembling as her walls clung desperately to his cock “...mother of my child...”

A wavering cry hung between them as he sunk deeply into her again, stilling for only a moment before his hips snapped back and he set the punishing pace she was craving, greedy, desperate pleas falling from her lips as he pistoned into her, his skin burning with a heat that roared from deep in his gut to blaze along every inch of his body.

Emma clung to the lounger as Killian filled her over and over again, his member caressing the most intimate parts of her and pulling from her noises she'd only ever shared with him, her panting breaths lost amid the slap of their skin meeting, the back of her thighs stinging from the scrape of his hair as he pounded into her, whispering things into the air that had her core throbbing with sinful pride.

It didn't take them long, the hot sun beating down against them as he roared over her, her upper body limp and clutching the cushion beneath her as he finally came, the vicious pulsing of his cock sending her over that beautiful horizon once more, her tight sheath squeezing him as he washed her insides with his release, their bodies shivering and trembling together as those last waves licked their skin – electric and burning and perfectly right.

His cheek was rough and hot against her back as his cock finally softened and slipped from her, pulling a last whimper from her lips as her wet flesh was left cool and exposed, everything throbbing pleasantly. His fingers traced soothing lines along her legs and sides, a soft chuckle reverberating against her back.

“Something funny, pirate?” she murmured, her back starting to ache even though she felt too boneless to move.

“It just occurred to me that I may very well find the chickens loose more often after this...lovely afternoon interlude.”

“I make no promises,” she quipped.  

“I've have always said you've a little bit of pirate in you, Swan,” he rumbled, pinching her bottom before gently rolling her to lay sideways on the lounger, his arms pulling her close to his chest.

“Well, more than a little,” she reminded him, drawing his calloused palm over her stomach, their not-so-little pirate rolling happily against them both as they soaked in the warmth of another lazy afternoon. Everything was bathed in that burnt, hazy afterglow that comes with summer, nearly tempting them to fall asleep – at least until something moving across her field of vision had Emma's eyes springing open, her mouth opening in surprise.

“Is that...Killian, did you check that the latch was actually shut after you put the chickens back in?”

Her husband's stubble scraped her skin as he peeked over her shoulder and watched the slow march of fowl making their way around the edge of the garden, scratching and pecking and looking far more recuperated from their last encounter than he currently felt.

“Bloody hell...”  

END

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul​ @kmom0f4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert​ @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @tiganasummertree​ @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is Space Australia, “Blood of the Gods.”

Humanity humanity is a strange thing, 

She plays with the elements 

Holds hands with the stars

And is rocked to sleep by the fury of nature 

 - Preface from the “Human Enigma” By Dr. Krill 

Rain thundered down from above.

Rivulets of water as large as small waterfalls cascaded over the side of the room and onto the soft-sandy dirt below. The sky above was a deep cloudy grey shot through with veins of white sunshine managed to peek through the cloud cover. Dr Krill poked his head around the side of the door and out onto the porch.

Adam was sitting there in a T-shirt and shorts just on the front step not a few inches away from the cascading water. Little droplets of water had already beaded on his exposed skin.

“What are you doing out here?” Krill wondered stepping onto the porch and raising his voice just to be heard over the cascading water.

“I like watching the rain.” he motioned krill over with a hand, “Come, sit, watch with me.”

Krill was not so sure about all this. He didn’t see the appeal of water falling, but walked over anyway and floated on the step next to the human. Water still continued to pool in great puddles by the side of the house, and the air around them was unusually humid and hot.

The human tilted his head back and took a long deep breath, “Too bad you don’t have a sense of smell doctor.”

“Why?” He looked around, “Water doesn’t usually have a smell.”

“But RAIN does.” He took another deep breath, “Probably one of the best smells in the world…. It's comforting, refreshing, makes you feel like mother nature singing you to sleep with her most beautiful lullaby.”

“Waxing poetic this morning?’

“Days like this do that to me.”

“I thought you would hate the rain.”

The human turned his head to look at Krill frowning, almost as if he was offended by such a suggestion, “What would make you think that?”

“Can’t fly on a day like this.”

The human shook his head, “I COULD it would just be inadvisable. Besides flying and the rain like this are two different things. One is a release, and the other is just…. peaceful .”

Krill turned his head back to the cascading water and the darkening sky above. He supposed it made sense, the white noise mixed with the slight darkness would be enough to put a human to sleep. He had used some of the same principles in medical work to calm agitated humans 

“Some scientists think our love of the smell of rain is an evolutionary response to how important rain is for humans.”

That too made sense. Humans were more than half water.

Adam closed his eyes, “The word for the smell of water is petrichor from the greek roots Petri which means stone and ichor which means blood of the gods.”

“That is… surprisingly poetic.”

“I always thought so.”

The human sighed and lay back onto porch letting the warm water cascade over his bare feet. Krill watched quietly as the human napped peacefully on the wooden planks of the front porch simply listening to the rain.

After a while, the human opened an eye and looked over at him, “There is one other great thing about warm rain.”

Krill sighed and waited for whatever the human was about to do or say that was completely dumb. 

The human smiled at him, and as he waited the smile grew bigger and bigger until the human was grinning fit to burst.

“PUDDLES!” 

Arms raised knees churning, the human raced out into the rain becoming immediately drenched in the torrential downpour. Krill hurried to the edge of the porch in shock and concern and bewildered fascination as the human danced around in the thundering rain.

His clothes were already soaked, his hair was plastered to his head, and water dripped down from his chin in a cascade. 

He whooped with glee as he danced through the rain kicking up water with his feet from the large puddles that had accumulated in the yard. Some of the puddles were so deep they went up over his ankles, but the deeper the puddle the better as the human splaished and frolicked in the rain.

Dr. krill sat back and watched shaking his head as he watched the human playing out in the elements, seeming so happy and carefree as water poured from the sky. Mist rose up around him from the once hot pavement giving the air a sort of hazy quality.

He spun around in a wide circle amrs threw out to either side.

He paused and looked at Krill still standing under the protection of the roof. With one hand he waved him over. His T shirt and short were dark with water and sagged against his frame, sticking to his chest and legs, “Come on, its fun.”

Krill shook his head, “I think Observation is enough to sate my curiosity.”

“Oh come on Dr. Water wont kill you, and besides, there is no better way to learn than from experience.”

“I don’t think so.”

The human shook his head and trotted up the sidewalk. Krill tried to back away, but a hand passed through the torrent of water from the roof -- now spilling over the gutters-- and dragged him into the rain.

Krill was suddenly doused with a cascade of warm water that had him sputtering before he came out the other side.

Rain roared down from above spattering against his skin and rolling off his antenna.

It was surprisingly warm as it pooled around his feet.

The human tugged him along as he danced through the puddles sending waves of contaminated water up against krill’s chest.

The human tilted his head back, arms held out to either side allowing the rain to fall onto his exposed face.

Krill watched him for the longest time before finally tilting his head back allowing the rain to roll down over his face. Then, with some trepidation he held his arms out to either side.

The sensation was surprising. He suddenly felt as if he was falling upwards into the sky. Warm water trickled down his body and his mind stilled a bit as the rhythm of the rain took over. Rivulets of water ran from his hands and arms and off his legs onto the water beneath.

Beside him, the human was doing the same.

They were close to the porch now still looking up at the deafening sky.

Krill turned to look over at the human still playing in the puddles when he suddenly stopped and grew very still. Krill saw his eyes go wide as, around them, a sudden buzzing seemed to fill the air. It even began filtering in over his radio receptors.

The hairs on the human’s arms were standing up despite the rain.

Krill didn’t have time to react as suddenly the human launched forward tackling him back onto the porch, through a runnel of water. They hit the deck hard, rolling over the damp wood and onto the dry patch just beside the wall of the house. Krill yelped in surprise and pain ready to yell at the human for his strange behavior.

But the human had his ears covered and eyes shut.

Krill had no time to react as he was suddenly blinded by a horrific bolt of light so blinding it took up his entire vision, and then a massive repeating explosion that sent shockwaves through the air around them. The ground shook and sparks flew in every direction as the massive sound rubbled away into nothing leaving him dazed, blinded and reeling.

The human sat up from where he had landed on the deck.

“Hot damn! That was close.”

Krill turned his head to glower at the human as another distant bolt of lightning cut across the sky.

“What was that!”

“That my friend was a lightning strike.”

“A LIGHTNING STRIKE! A lightning strike! You mean to say you brought me out during an electrical storm! You wanted to play in the WATER during an ELECTRICAL STORM! I cannot believe you!”

“Hold on, now in my defence I didn’t KNOW it was an electrical storm.”

“Well you were WRONG and we almost DIED.”

“You were enjoying it before earth decided to be a bitch.”

Krill turned in an exasperated and panicked circle, “Is this something that you humans do a lot! Like intentionally go out into electrical storms and dance in the PUDDLES.”

The human shrugged, “Getting struck by lightning is a very rare occurrence, and I had no idea that one was coming to visit.”

“This planet with all of your unchecked electricity running rampant!”

“Well what do you want me to do, control the weather! Harness the elements, krill?”

Krill waved his hands over his head, “I am going inside. I should never have trusted your judgement about earth weather. Electrical storms! Honestly!” He turned around and marched inside, followed by the human a few moments later dripping wet and rolling his eyes just slightly.

Off in the distance, another crackle of lightning lit up the interior of the room sending a rumble through the ground. Krill toweled off while the human went to change his close.

The room darkneened, and suddenly there was another horrific flash of light and thunderous eruption. All the lights went out and krill squealed in shock hiding behind the couch as hail began pelting the windows now darkened.

Another crack of lightning sent stark white light to illuminate the front room before plunging them into blackness.

The hail grew heavier,

Krill curled up in the corner.

A light flicked on somewhere in the distance, and he looked up to find Adam walking down the hall spinning a little lever on a flashlight which grew brighter with every rotation of the elver.

“Pretty cool huh!”

“COOL IT JUST TOOK OUT THE POWER. WE ARE GOING TO DIE.” 

“Calm down and take a chill pill my four legged friend. IT does this all the time, probably just hit a transformer or something. The power will be back on soon.” He set the flashlight down on the table beside Krill and went scrounging around in a nearby drawer, “We will be safe just as long as we stay away from the pipes and outlets if we can.”

He withdrew a small box, reaching inside and striking a small wooden stick against the outside of the box. There was a sudden flare of fire the stick sparked to life. Krill leaped back as the human held the little fire stick between his fingers, reaching into the drawer and lighting a string protruding from a block of wax. He set the block on a dish and then out on the table.

The flame flickered and cast orange light around the room as he walked over to sit next to krill leaning his head back, “That was always one of my favorite sounds.’

“What?” Kril Asked still staring at the open flame the human had left unattended on the table 

“Thunder”

Krill glowered at him, “you like the sound of eminent destruction.”

He shrugged, “I don't know what to tell you. Its Calming.”

Kril was about to explode on the human about how NOT comforting the sound of thunder was when he raised a hand to silence him, “Well not when its right next to my head, but from a distance it is so…. remote , beautiful, and powerful. Lightning and thunder are the greatest unchecked power of nature, the bolts of which can burn hotter than the surface of the sun. He stood, walking over to a chair not far away and retrieving a blanket which he wrapped around himself before coming to sit back down, throwing his legs up on the couch as he leaned his head back to rest against a pillow.

He almost looked sleepy as the rain intensified.

Waffles walked over and jumped up to lay with him resting her head atop his chest with a soft grumble.

Krill stared at the both of them in near horror.

How was this ok?

Outside the window just before them, distant bolts of lightning cut purple and blue branches across the sky. In a way it reminded krill of human veins and arteries. As the candle flickered on the table, Krill’s mind was brought back to the word petrichor. Rock and the blood of the gods. In a surprisingly human turn of thought he mused at how the forks of lightning were like the veins of those gods that brought the rain leaving the human body a distant echo of something much greater.

He turned his head to the side, where the human now lay sleeping, wrapped like some kind of strange burrito with his head sticking out of one end and his feet sticking out the other.

Topped with a dog.

Krill sighed and rested in the darkness continuing to watch the storm as it passed overhead.

Beside him, the human hummed gently in his sleep once or twice.

Rocked to sleep by mother nature.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Fort hurts Whirl's human Amica and Lost Light knows nothing but fear for months to come. How Ratchet managed to safe Fort is a miracle and how he avoided Whirl's attacks after the fact is a even bigger miracle and everyones convinced Primus is watching over Ratch

You must love angst anon, and I respect that and love it because this was so fun to write... in between the tears of course but that's what makes it GOOD. I changed the course of the prompt a bit because I'm so overwhelmed with possibilities I don't even know how to choose asdfghjkl...

Being impaled to the floor by a solid length of pipe had left him quite helpless from the start of the ordeal. Maximus had obviously intended as much, having aimed the solid length of pipe to avoid immediate critical damage whilst ensuring that if Whirl so much as struggled he'd risk fatal injuries. For all his self loathing, that was actually not a gamble he'd been willing to take with so many people he liked at risk. Between you and Rung he'd needed to stay alive and keep the big mech talking, because damn it all the two of you had given him a terrible case of the feelings, you especially. So he wasn't about to lose you to a temper tantrum.

Talking had been a strategy he'd made use of in the past, as bots who were in the middle of a conversation were statistically less likely to shoot, provided the topic of choice actually interested them. Luckily enough his past tended to fascinate most in the same way ship crashes did; they were so horrified they couldn't focus on anything else. He'd actually managed to connect with the unstable Autobot after a while though, using their similiar troubles with life to find common ground and keep that gigantic cannon from firing. He'd had the audacity to believe things might be okay after a few hours passed and no one got shot.

The problem was the gun didn't end up being what he should have worried about.

When the big bot finally got enough processor power gathered to realize he was being stalled, all hope of a peaceful resolution blinked out of existence, and so did any effort on his part to be calm. Reality seemed to crack as he watched Maximus grab you off the table. On instinct he'd made an effort to lunge and rescue you, but had succeeded only in straining some important chassis support as he fought against the pipe impaled through him, warping the metal retaining his most vital organs. Rung had tried to calm the situation down one final time, pointing out that Max wanted something that couldn't be given because his true tormentor was dead, but his words had proved useless.

His single optic had a perfect view of the way your little body spasmed when Maximus merely flexed his digits, your eyes growing wide as the almost delicate series of cracks marked far too many bones snapping in succession, something any bot could recognise as unhealthy. Perhaps it was just the spark shattering agony giving him hallucinations, but he could have sworn your eyes flickered to him before closing, a weak wheeze passing your lips before almost inaudible coughs brought up a splash of blood. It had dribbled down your chin, stopping only when your coughing faded to silence. Then you were so still...

He'd been told later that Maximus had looked horrified at your injuries, not that he cared then or ever would how the big bot felt about his actions. Because nothing mattered more than you, and thus nothing had mattered at all as your broken body was laid back down on the table you'd previously been resting on. Seeing you dead to rights in front of him had killed him in every way that did matter, leaving a spark that flickered only in the most basic sense of living, keeping him alive purely out of biological imperative, though there had been one other thing in fact. All that was left in his meaningless husk worth feeling was a kind of anger so intense and pure and molten it made stars seem chilly by comparison. Along with a pipe through his chest that was no longer enough to hold him down.

The armor and glass of his cockpit shredded easy as he fought his way off the floor, heedless to petty physical agony or self preservation as his long limbs worked to get him vertical again. Something strong and stubborn and frustratingly important had resisted fiercely as he tried to pull his body forward, leaving him to thrash like a fish on a hook whilst Rung tried to talk him down with words he didn't care to hear. The guy was a psychiatrist, didn't he know what insanity was, like trying to talk to a bot who was no longer living? A for effort though, he'd think looking back on it.

Finally that important piece of his insides had realized it was beat, snapping with such force his entire chest cavity collapsed in one portion and he came out of impalement sideways. Pink energon had flowed more like a small waterfall than a bleeding wound as countless important bits and pieces dangled from his warped and shredded chest, including the glowing orb of his spark chamber, but he hadn't cared in the slightest. A thankfully still working arm had secured a good grip on the pipe to pull it free as he rose to his pedes, single optic giving you one final glance as he stood to face your killer.

As expected, you were motionless. Why wouldn't you be? He'd been stupid enough to hope, stupid enough to be anything other than angry, and the gigantic target that had painted on him and you had finally attracted the attention of a cruel universe. The only thing he would have said to you was sorry, but being certainly dead meant that would do no good, so thankfully he had other ways of making things better.

Max had apparently lost a great deal of his fire after injuring you, as he offered frantic apologies for his actions and reasurances that he hadn't meant what he'd done. It was a sensible reaction from a bot truly not built to handle harming the innocent.

Seeing it had only made him angrier.

What followed had been a wrathful blur of spilled energon and shrieking metal on metal, with sparks flying and the shrapnel of shattered body parts splattering across the room. There had been pain, extraordinary pain, but none of it had been connected to his physical body. Rather, the spark he needed to repeatedly push back into the mix of battered organs in his destroyed chest felt like it was the epicenter of a kind of emotional supernova. For a mech who had known so much suffering, this was an impossibility made real; a greater level of grief than even he had experienced. It had to be what dying felt like for someone destined for the Pit.

Max had been down one limb by the time the security team had flooded the room, but that number had grown to two by the time any of them had actually attempted restraint. In their defense, they were well trained enough to spot certain suicide, and thus Max had been on his own in the fray far longer than anyone wanted to admit. Energon loss induced amnesia stripped most of what followed from his memory banks.

Ratchet had actually ended the fight, of all bots, a turn of events he'd find bitterly hilarious in hindsight. By shouting out that you were alive, and that he needed to surrender if the medics were going to have any hope of performing the lifesaving aid you needed to stay alive, he'd been granted the chance to hope. Said chance had doused enough of his fire to make him collapse in a mangled heap on the spot. Just knowing you might live had been enough to convince him to stop fighting at that moment, but as his optic had closed the main course of his plan had still been clear; make sure your killer follows suit if your condition changes.

That goal was probably the only reason he'd survived to wake up later.

[warriors-of-korrasami]

Distractions

NSFW

A/B/O 

Road head. Car Sex.

“A drive?” Asami asked softly.

“Yeah. We could just go for a drive. Take the back roads around town. Just enjoy some time to ourselves.” Korra responded casually. 

The alpha had to admit, the idea did sound appealing. Of course, Asami herself loved to drive. So what could be the harm in just taking a drive? 

Little did Asami know that Korra had much more, devious, reasons for wanting to go for a drive.

It was a little bit on the later side, the sun had already gone down. But that might be even better. Asami knew of a little spot they could park and stargaze. It could be romantic.

“Okay. Sounds like fun. I know just the place to go.” Asami smiled at Korra.

Both of the women got ready and met in the garage. Asami quickly stepped up to open Korra’s door for her. Something the alpha always did. Korra couldn’t help the slight blush that covered her cheeks every time. 

Korra considered herself lucky to had found an alpha that often treated her like royalty. But the omega knew when Asami did it, it was out of love. Not like most people, who did things out of obligation, simply because she was the Avatar.

No. Asami truly loved Korra. And went out of her way to make sure that her omega knew it. Using every opportunity to show her admiration and devotion.

Even if it was just small things like opening the door for her. Or stopping to buy Korra her favorite sweets on her way home from work. Or making sure to never leave the house without kissing her mate goodbye and an ‘I love you.’ 

Korra sighed happily as she slid into the passenger seat of the newest Satomobile Asami had built. This particular Satomobile Korra had a major say in its making. The omega had asked Asami to custom make it for them. 

Asami eagerly agreed and asked what Korra had wanted in the vehicle. The omega had wanted interior things. A big back seat. Front seats that could lean all the way back. A low flat middle console. A small steering wheel. Nice, loud, speakers with a new radio.

While Korra’s reasonings for wanting all these things seemed to go over her mate’s head, the alpha had been more than happy to make a Satomobile just for Korra. 

Up until this point, Korra hadn’t had the chance to put any of these particular things in play. But tonight, the omega had major plans for them. 

Asami slid into the driver's seat. The car started with a low rumbling purr. The quietest Satomobile yet. It was sleek and shiny. Low to the ground, with a solid cab that had plenty of headroom. Korra had made sure of that. 

As they pulled out of the garage and onto the road, Korra flipped through the radio stations. Finally settling on something smooth that still kept a beat. 

They had finally made it to the side road that split off the main one. It was much smaller, wrapping around the outskirts of the city. Through the spirit wilds. 

Few people used this road. Even less so at night. So Asami wasn’t worried about seeing anyone on the road. So once they turned onto the road the alpha kicked it into gear. Revving the engine as she sped up. 

Korra laughed gleefully, feeling the rush of adrenaline.  Asami was an excellent driver. Often using her driving skills to show off. Speeding down the road, whipping around corners. 

Trusting Asami’s driving with her life, Korra wasn’t scared. Quite the opposite actually. Each time the car lurched forward as she switched gears, Korra's stomach would flip. The adrenaline burning into arousal. 

Asami was trying to show off. And it was working. This was exactly what Korra was hoping for. 

Korra glanced at her alpha, a devious smirk on her face. The omega finally had the chance to put her plan into play.

Reaching her hand out, Korra placed it on top of Asami’s thigh. Trying to keep the touch light and casual. 

The alpha smiled softly, one hand letting go of the wheel, she placed it over Korra’s. 

“You know, you are a really good driver. Maybe we could.. Put your skills to the test?” Korra purred out the challenge, knowing Asami couldn’t refuse.

“Oh? And what kind of.. Test, are you thinking?” Asami knew her mate was trying to bait her.

“Well… Let’s just see how well you can focus, with a bit of.. Distraction.” Korra breathed out, the words hung in the air.

The alpha let go of Korra’s hand and placed it back on the steering wheel again, smirking. “Fine. Let’s see if you could even distract me in the first place.”

Fire blazed in the omega’s eyes, determined to get want she wanted. Her hand slid down the alpha’s thigh, keeping her touch light, teasing. The tips of her fingers swirled around Asami’s knee, and back up. 

Asami’s grip tightened, as the omega teased her. She couldn’t stop her clit from shifting, her pants grew a noticeable bulge at the front. 

The alpha couldn’t help but growl, if Korra thought getting her hard would be enough to distract her, the omega was sorely mistaken.

Letting her hand trail up the curve of the bulge, Korra could feel it pulse under her fingers. She cupped it, giving the alpha’s cock a light squeeze through the material of her pants.

The omega started to unbuckle Asami’s pants, pulling down the zipper.

“Woah. You're not really gonna..” Asami trailed off as Korra reached into her pants.

 “Shh, just keep your eyes on the road,” Korra said soothingly.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea… We could-” Asami was cut off by her own gasp as Korra finally managed to release her cock from her pants.

Fully extended, the alpha's cock bounced free. Heavy under its own weight, her length throbbed eagerly, showing none of her reservations. 

Korra licked her lips, staring down at the alphas thick member. Placing her hand around the base of the cock, the omega gave it a light squeeze. It pulsed in her hand, pre-come welling at the tip.

The omega swiped her thumb across the tip, gathering up the slick overflow. Bringing it up to her lips, she licked it clean. Eyes rolling at the taste, it was a little weaker than the alphas thick come. But still tasted just as good.

Reaching back down, Korra started to pump her mate’s cock with slow, measured strokes. The length throbbed in her hand every time she reached the tip.

A low moan escaped Asami, she was leaking like a fountain now. Making each stroke smoother than the last. The omega hummed in response, heat building in her belly. 

 Glancing up to see Asami’s jaw was clenched tight, eyes trained straight forward. 

Asami can totally handle this. Could she handle my mouth though? Korra licked her lips at the thought.

The omega pumped her fist faster. Watching with great intensity, as the overflow spilled over her fingers. Spirits, she wanted another taste so badly.

Finally, Korra couldn’t take it anymore. She needed more. Briefly letting go of her mate’s cock, Korra leaned back and unbuckled her seatbelt. Before turning back to her alpha. 

Korra started to lean over before Asami’s warning growl stopped her. “Korra..”

The omega shivered, slick dousing her lower lips. The growl was supposed to stop her. But.. it’s only turned the omega on more. 

Leaning down Korra took her mate’s cock back in her hand, dropping her head to lap insistently at the slit.

Asami hissed in return, “Fuck!”

The omega moaned, sealing her lips over the puffy head, and stroked the length faster. 

Although Korra was distracted she didn’t miss the fact that the car was starting to slow down. 

Asami was losing focus. 

The moans spilling from the alpha grew louder, her hips starting to buck up into her mate’s hot mouth.  

Korra moaned in return, she was completely soaked. Pleasing her alpha always turned her on. But the fact that they were in a moving vehicle only spurred her on. It was reckless. Dangerous. And downright just plain hot. 

Eventually, Asami’s hand came off the steering wheel, and closed around the back of her omegas head. 

Pushing her head down, the alpha gripped roughly at Korra’s hair.

The groan that left the omega was the loudest yet, eyes rolling as the head of the alpha’s thick cock slid down her throat. 

As much as Korra liked to serve and please her alpha. The omega loved being forced to do those things. 

Korra adored when her mate would go all alpha. Using her strength and power to use the omega for her own selfish pleasure. 

The alpha pumped her hips up every time she pushed Korra’s head back down. Forcing her cock as deep as possible each time. 

Finally, the car pulled off the road, quickly slamming to a stop. Both Asami’s hands fell into her mate’s hair. Thrusting up as fast and as roughly as she could. 

“Fuck. Oh, omega, I’m gonna-“ Asami growled through her teeth as her head fell back against the headrest. 

Korra swallowed around Asami’s cock, desperate for the alpha’s come. 

Finally! Finally, Asami came, snapping her hips up. Thick spurts shot down Korras throat. The omega greedily sucked, swallowing down every drop. 

Asami’s hands slid out of her omegas hair as she panted and moaned. Korra sat back up. A smug and satisfied look on her face. 

“I definitely think I distracted you.” Korra purred smugly. 

Asami just let out a breathy chuckle, still coming down from her high. Although she had just come, her cock was still rock hard. 

Korra briefly looked around outside. They just pulled off the side of the road. So they weren’t exactly hidden. 

But then again they hadn’t seen any other vehicles on the road, so the likelihood of them getting caught was slim. Still possible. 

But fuck it. Who cares? Asami had more than enough money to pay off the police if anything happened. 

With her mind made up, Korra sat back and wiggled out of her pants. Baring her swollen, soaked folds to the open air. She hadn’t worn anything else.

The alpha’s eyes bugged out of her head at the glorious sight before her. “You.. You planned this?”

“Oh, I’ve been planning this for a while. Now, lean your seat back.” Korra purred seductively. 

Immediately Asami did as she was told. Pushing the seat as far back as she could. Her omega quickly climbed into her lap.

Korra pulled her mate into a deep kiss, as she planted herself down fully onto the alpha’s cock. She was so wet, she took her all in one fluid stroke. 

Asami groaned into her omega’s mouth, placing her hands on her waist. Korra started to roll her hips. 

The Satomobile started to rock as Korra started to pick up the pace. Slamming her hips down as Asami thrust up into her. The couple rutting furiously together. Both chasing after their high.

Breaking the kiss they both moaned out. Panting heavily as they rocked together. They weren’t going to last long. But that was probably for the best. The longer they took the more chance they had of getting caught.

At the thought of getting caught, Korra moaned. Kissing down her alpha’s neck, until she reached her mate mark. Digging her teeth into the skin.

Asami yelped under her. Her thrusts jerking out of rhythm. The base of her cock started to throb, her knot was forming. 

Korra immediately felt it and began grinding down on it. Trying to pop it in. 

“No.” Asami’s rough growl broke through the air. 

“Please. Alpha knot me. I need it.” Korra whined into Asami’s mate mark.

“No. No knot. We can’t.” Asami tried to remain firm.

“Alpha, please. Want your knot, want your pups. Fill me.. Please.” Korra whimpered out pitifully. 

The omega continued to grind down against the knot, it was starting to make progress. The top stretching her tight entrance. 

Spirits, they were totally going to get caught. But fuck it. Asami growled and she roughly gripped her mate’s hips, pulling her down onto her knot.

With a few rough thrusts up the knot finally popped in. The stretch and pressure against her front wall made Korra come hard. Whimpering and whining, the omega arched and shook with each ripple of her orgasm.  

The hot, tight walls squeezing her was too much. The alpha couldn’t hold back. Coming in thick spurts, filling her mate. 

The knot was sealed in, keeping every drop of come inside the omega. Warm and comforting.

Korra collapsed on top of her mate, moaning and panting heavily. Both coming down from their high. 

“Thank you. That was amazing.” Korra breathed out softly.

Asami wrapped her arms around her omega. Rubbing her back softly, kissing her omegas mate mark as well. 

“You’re telling me. That was incredible. You did so good. My good little omega.” Asami purred soothingly. 

“You did good! I knew you could handle a little road head.” Korra chuckled softly, kissing her neck. 

“I think you technically did win. I was definitely distracted.” Asami laughed out. 

[dakotacrisis]

Baker Girl (4)

It has occurred to me that I have been forgetting to update this story at the same time I’ve been updating it on AO3. That’s on me. Sorry. Gonna get the rest of this story posted now. If you don’t wanna wait for it to show up on tumblr then go ahead and read it on AO3.

Read on AO3

---

Chat Noir and Marinette finally broke apart after Marinette’s phone started ringing incessantly. Her parents really wanted her back home and were getting worried that she hadn’t responded to them yet.

How was she meant to go back to her house after all this? How was she supposed to move on with her life having heard Chat Noir say all that and spilling her heart out to him? How was she even meant to face him as Ladybug or Marinette knowing how he feels?

“It would have been so much easier if it was you I had fallen in love with first.”

He really said that to her. Marinette couldn’t help but agree. How much simpler would it have been if she fell in love with Chat Noir first instead of Adrien?

Chat gave her a lift back home, depositing her at her front door instead of the roof.

“You know,” Chat Noir said, “I for one cannot wait to see what clickbait titles they come up with for our escapades tonight.”

“Probably something along the lines of “Chat Noir Absconds With Rumored Girlfriend After Akuma Scare” or something like that.”

“I was thinking something a little more romantic and cheesy like, “Her Knight In Shining Armor! Chat Noir Rides Off Into Sunset With His Princess.””

“Wow that was cheesy and kinda long.”

“And yours was shorter?”

“Mine is closer to the realm of possibility.”

“Well now I think I should send my title in as a suggestion.”

“You had better not.”

“Watch me.”

The pair laughed and Marinette found herself not wanting him to leave just yet. Her heart was already all over the place but at least if he was here joking with her then she wouldn’t have to think about her problems for a little while longer.

“What should I do with the manga once I’ve finished it? You gonna keep coming back to my house every night until I finish it so you can bring me the next one?”

“Not like we can douse the rumors at this point anyway. Even with the video. Which reminds me,” Chat sighed, “This makes our third attempt a bust.”

“At least this time it was an akuma’s fault instead of either of us.”

“Maybe fate wants us to be together as much as Paris does.” he said, a wistful smile on his face.

Marinette knew he meant it as a joke but it hit deep within her heart. Perhaps there was a kernel of truth in his statement.

“Maybe,” Marinette said, clutching the giftbag in her hands tighter. “I guess this means I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Here?” he asked.

“Yes, here,” she turned to head inside. “Goodnight, kitty cat.”

“Wait, Marinette,” Chat grabbed her hand. She turned around and saw something desperate in his eyes. “I...I uh...thank you for tonight.”

She tried to ignore the tingly ripple that shot up her arm at his touch. He’s carried her all around Paris, they had embraced for several minutes on the hotel roof, why was this the touch that was flustering her? “Thanks for what exactly?” she said through a subtle stutter.

“What you said at the hotel. I really needed to hear that. Although I would say Ladybug is probably the least dumb person I know.” he scoffed softly.

“Oh no, trust me,” Marinette sighed, “She is just as big an idiot as anyone else.”

She laced her fingers through his and tugged him an inch closer. “Also, talk to her about this. I’m sure she’ll understand and she’s probably worried about you. Got it?”

“I will. Thanks again, Marinette.” he brought their intertwined hands up and gently kissed the back of her hand. “Until tomorrow.”

DOKI! DOKI! DOKI! DOKI!

“Yeah,” Marinette squeaked, “Bye then.”

Chat gave her one last shy smile before taking off. Marinette watched him go, leaning against the front door of the bakery for support. That boy was trying to kill her!

---

Doki doki

“Plagg?” Adrien mumbled into his pillow.

Doki doki

“Hm?” Plagg yawned.

Doki doki

“I think I...I might be...nevermind.”

---

A Knight, a Princess, and a Fire Breathing Akuma!

A hot-tempered akuma shook the city of Paris last night. But that was by far not the biggest shock this city got.

The akuma, known as Scream-Engine, toppled the Grand Paris Hotel. Luckily the heroes of Paris were there to quickly remedy the situation and earn another win over Hawkmoth. What has Paris abuzz this morning though was the events directly after the defeat of this latest evil.

After the defeat of Scream-Engine, Chat Noir was seen fleeing from the scene in a mad dash back to his rumored girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

As anyone with an internet connection has seen these past couple days, Chat Noir and Dupain-Cheng have been spotted together several times. While no official word has been given on their relationship status it can be safely assumed that the pair harbor a great affection for one another.

Witnesses near the battle when the akuma first appeared had said they spotted Chat Noir saving his princess from a perilous fall from atop the hotel roof. Reasons as to why the baker’s daughter was on the roof of the luxurious hotel remain unknown but one can safely say it was to meet with her knight in cat ears.

“Knight in cat ears!” Marinette was doubled over laughing so hard she could scarcely breathe. “That’s wonderful!”

“Oh shut up!” Chat Noir shoved her playfully, almost knocking her off the settee. “Stop laughing so I can finish reading!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Marinette sat back up, wiping the tears from her eyes, “Please, continue.”

After the danger of the fight had passed Chat Noir quickly ditched his partner’s side to find Dupain-Cheng. The two reunited on the streets in what can best be described as a scene straight out of an epic movie romance.

[Video: Chat Noir sweeps Baker Girl off her feet]

The two tearfully embraced in front of onlookers before the knight swept his princess off her feet and took off with her back into the night for a more personal and sweet reunion. A perfect storybook ending to an action filled night that has all of Paris wondering, when will they make it official?

“I told you!” Chat laughed, “Knight and his princess! I called it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette smacked him with a pillow, “Don’t think I don’t know that it was really you that wrote that. It has your cheesy, hopeless romantic fingerprints all over it.”

"I am unappreciated in my time," Chat sighed dramatically, draping himself across Marinette’s lap.

"And here I thought The Disaster Robinsons was going to be the funniest thing I read today."

"I am so glad you like it," Chat beamed, his head still comfortably settled in her lap. Marinette combed her fingers through his hair. It was a lot softer than she thought it was gonna be. "I'll be sure to bring you the next volume tomorrow night."

"Is this what's happening now? Nightly meetups to laugh over the articles they write about us and talk about manga?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Chat pouted, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Far from it," she assured him, "excited. I told my friend, Kagami, that I was reading the Disaster Robinsons and she got so excited. I did not realize how quickly the two main love interests would start to infuriate me. It is so painfully obvious from the start that they like each other. Yet, I can already tell they are going to drag out this mutual pining, will they/won't they crap for a long time."

"By the time you get to volume six you are going to want to reach in and slap them both for being so oblivious. Trust me."

"Oh joy,"

Marinette leaned back to look at the ceiling. Last night had been sort of rough. She had not really considered how much she may have hurt Chat Noir with her rejection as Ladybug. She figured he’d be a little upset but not cause-property-damage level upset. It felt horrible knowing she caused him so much pain.

They were meant to be partners. They worked in tandem and she trusted him with her life. Then over time they became friends. Real friends. But she never entertained the idea of them being more than that until recently when she realized that Chat wasn’t just flirting with her to be funny but because he actually loved her.

So where did that leave her now? She had been fighting against any feelings she may have held for him since day one. Now with her feelings for Adrien waning and being replaced with Chat, she wasn’t sure what to do.

Marinette still really loved Adrien but the more she looked at their relationship she was starting to realize that trying to be with him was the cause of a lot of heartache. She could barely get a word out to him about her feelings so what was the point of it? What if she did get to go out with him and she never got used to it? When they interacted in a platonic manner she was fine but anytime romance got brought into the equation she lost all coherency.

Maybe that was why she was gravitating towards Chat Noir now. Things with him had always been easy. She could talk with him and joke with him and even playfully flirt with him on occasion without incident. Lately his attention has gotten her frazzled. Like she was trying to walk on a tilted path high off the ground. One wrong move and she would fall down and down and down. Fall right into his waiting arms.

Would that be such a bad thing?

She glanced down at her lap. Chat Noir’s eyes were closed and she could hear just the faintest purr from within his chest. It still amused her to no end that he actually purred while transformed.

At the end of the day Alya was able to talk Marinette down and assure her that it would be okay. If she wanted to fix things with Chat then she should talk to him. No other way to do it. Marinette already told Chat to talk to Ladybug when they were on the hotel roof so hopefully he took her advice.

She didn’t want to lose him.

“Hey kitty,” Marinette said.

“Hm?” Chat answered, his eyes still closed.

She bent herself closer and left a quick, chaste kiss on his forehead. When she pulled back his eyes had popped wide open and the purring his chest had gotten three times louder.

“What--ahem--what was that for?” his voice cracked a touch. Marinette swallowed back her laughter and shrugged instead.

“Felt like it.”

---

In the days since Adrien had started visiting Marinette at her house on an almost nightly basis he had gotten very comfortable with her. They had basically given up the idea of letting Paris know they weren't a couple. No matter what, there was going to be rumors so there was little to no point fighting against it.

Eventually the articles slowed down as the city got used to Marinette and Chat Noir hanging out. They quickly became old news which was a load off their shoulders. Although they did miss reading the articles out loud to one another.

On this particular night they were sitting on Marinette’s bed watching an anime Adrien had recommended they start together. Things were going well but Adrien couldn’t stop thinking about something he had been meaning to ask her for a while.

"You know I haven't heard yet," he cleared his throat, attempting to sound casual, "any progress with that Adrien guy? Have you confessed or…"

"No. I'm not sure if I'm going to anymore." Marinette said.

"Why not?" Adrien said maybe a tad too loudly. He lowered his voice, "I mean to say, you sounded so in love with him before. Still nervous?"

"No. I just think that maybe we're better off as friends."

"Why would you say that?" This could not be happening! Why? Why when he had finally admitted to himself that he had feelings for Marinette? He had been waiting patiently for her to confess to him so that he could say yes this time.

"I mean I tried confessing to him the day after I practiced with you but he left before I could. For as long as I've known him he's consistently pushed me into the friend-zone so I'm starting to think he wouldn't like me back that way in the first place."

His eye started to twitch. "I don't know about that. Perhaps he is just really dumb and oblivious and needed a wake up call to how great you are."

"That's a nice thought." Marinette glanced at the photo of Adrien that was pinned to her wall. "But honestly, I think I'm ready to move on from him. Find someone else who I know likes me."

At that his heart sunk. Someone she knew that already liked her. Someone like her ex-boyfriend Luka who was still obviously in love with her? Had he missed his chance? What if he asked her out? Would she say yes or would she still insist on moving on from him?

"Good for you," Adrien smiled through the ache in his chest. First Ladybug now Marinette. He couldn't deal with another heartbreak. "Whoever it is will be a lucky guy."

"You think so?"

"I'm lucky to have fallen in love with you."

Adrien took a deep breath in through clenched teeth. “I know so. And you wanna know how I know?”

“How?” she asked.

“Because I told you before whoever you fall in love with is lucky and I meant it.” his hands balled up in the fabric of her comforter, “I know if it was me I would consider myself the luckiest guy in the world.”

Please. Please see what I’m trying to say. See what I’m trying to tell you, my Marinette.

“Aw, Chat. You really are a hopeless romantic,” she sighed, laying her head against his shoulder. “It’s nice.”

Adrien swallowed back his disappointment and smiled. “Glad you think so.”

---

(Previous) (Next)