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#SHE ASKED ABOUT MY FAVORITE KIND OF BOOKS AND SHE LIKES DANCING AND SHE'S SO PEPPY AND FUN

readychilledwine · 1 month

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Mister Grumpy Pantseses

Summary - All you wanted was a day in the vegetable garden with your husbands. Your husbands just wanted to spend the day at each other's throats.

Warnings - a bit of a communication issue trope, grumpy sunshine, reader is Tamlin's sister and uses one of his tactics, jealousy, name calling, Fluff, reader is a literal ray of joy

Prompt - Day 5 - Favorite Tropes

A/N - Happy @polyacotarweek day 5! I am running a little behind, so my other fave trope will be up later, but enjoy a little grumpy azris with their sunshine reader with a bit of miscommunication

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

“Fucking asshole.”

“Azriel!”

“Bastard.”

“Eris!” You pouted at your mates, sighing as they glared at each other. "Can we please have a nice breakfast? We have so much work to do in the garden if we want the vegetables ready in time to take to the hungry. We need to have energy."

Azriel grumbled an agreement while Eris rolled his eyes. “I am more than happy to spend time with you, foxling. It is that one I can't stand the sight of right now.”

"Eris!"

“Eris, our mate is asking you to stop being an entitled, self righteous, snake for one day. Surely you can handle that.”

“Azriel!”

“You're the one who set me off this morning, Azriel. Must you always run around brooding?” You felt yourself slowly sinking into your chair. The males you love most were both tired, so very tired. They were stressed from their duties and all you wanted was to love and help them.

They had not spent time with just each other in a few weeks. Eris had been too heavily scented on their last night together. It had been Azriel's way of telling you hello, but it lingered, dancing into the air during breakfast at the Forest House the next day. You had glamored it well enough from everyone but his mother. She seemed to see through you and Eris. Almost like she knew you two were hiding something or someone. Eris had caved, telling her everything about Azriel. Her advice had been simple, protect him.

And Eris had taken that as, “Avoid him.”

You looked between your two glaring mates, heartbroken at how their sadness was turning to grumpiness. “I'm going to go to the garden. Maybe you two should talk.” You left before one of them could respond then smiled, warding them in the cabin. If they wouldn't talk willingly, you'd force them to!

Azriel glared at Eris, and the heir returned it fully. “Our mate, our beautiful, selfless, and kind mate is outside by herself. Working in that damned garden. Because you want to be a grumpy asshole.”

Eris looked shocked, eyes wide as his jaw dropped. “I haven't done anything! I tried to greet you last night, and you ignored me in favor of y/n. Then this morning you wouldnt even kiss me good morning!”

“Can you blame me? She at least answers when I write.” Azriel watched the hit land, watched as Eris seemed to deflate.

“I missed you. Regardless of how you feel, I missed you.” Eris stood to go out the door and jumped back as he was shocked. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

Azriel felt his face fall as well, walking to the after he did and jumping back as he was shocked as well. “Took that straight out of her brother's book, didn't she?”

Eris couldn't help but laugh. “She doesn't even know he did that. I keep her here and away from him and Rhysand lately. It would break her heart all over again."

Azriel then began to laugh too, “She hates when we are mean to each other.”

“Because the world should be sunshine and rainbows.”

“And we are grumpy.”

The ward seemed to lessen as the two males laughed before moving to the large sliding door that overlooked your garden. You were laughing, the rays of light seeming to want to follow and dance with you. You were such a breath of air. Untouched by the cruelty of the world and sheltered. It had turned you into the happiest female the two of them had ever met. The glass was always half full in your mind if you didn't decide that it was already running over and just a teeny tiny cup.

Being paired with them, two grumpy and brooding males, seemed unfair to you most days. You were always laughing, always making jokes, and for 300 years, Eris had protected you from it being any other way. When he had taken you to a diplomatic meeting pre-Amarantha though, that had all changed.

The bond snapping between you and Azriel had been difficult, life changing, and rewarding. He pursued you, regardless of your known status as Eris's wife and mate, and his pursuit paid off. It had kept you safe from Amarantha, and once they all had been freed, the bond between him and Eris snapped.

That had been a different journey. The two of them were constantly butting heads, constantly arguing, constantly making you cry. It all ended though when Eris had been brave enough to bluntly address the situation. He had pulled Azriel to him, crashing his lips down on his, and the rest became history. Where everyone else saw a fight during the High Lord's meeting, you saw foreplay.

Azriel sighed, watching you, and then turned back to Eris. “Why did you avoid me? I worried I had hurt you.”

“You scented me too heavily. She could hardly hide it.”

Azriel nodded, a scarred hand then taking the other male's calloused one. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. She focused on hiding it from him.”

“I am sorry.”

Eris whispered the words back before leaning his head on Azriel's shoulder. “She's so beautiful and happy.”

“You are also beautiful,” Azriel looked him over. “Though, you are as she says, a grumpy pants.”

Eris huffed. “Odd. She says the same of you.” The ward seemed to drop fully. Allowing Azriel to reach his hands out to door and slide it open. “Brat.” He muttered.

“You'll take care of that later.”

“And you will help?”

You smiled as your mates walked out before jumping with glee. “Eris! There's a bunny!”

“Yeah? I'm sure we have many bunnies, my love.”

You glared at him before turning to Azriel. “Azriel!” You paused dramatically. “There's a bunny!”

The shadowsinger looked to the heir, a small smirk on his face as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Show me, starlight.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

Ps- I had to fix the tags! I apologize!

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #azris x reader #azris x you #azris x y/n #poly!acotar x reader #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly+acotarweek d5 #poly+acotarweek 2024 d5

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sapphicmsmarvel · 3 months

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azriel: mr loverboy

angst + fluff

“boy you keep on blowing my mind, caught up in my emotions.”

song: mr loverboy by little mix

Azriel always treated you kindly when you were just friends. But once that mating bond snapped, oh boy that’s where everything changed.

You didn’t think it was possible that Azriel could get sweeter than he already was but he quickly proved you wrong.

If he knew you had a bad day, he’d show up with your favorite flowers, candy or a new book. He always held doors open for you, made you walk on the side of a street that was least hazardous. Always listened to you, held you.

You made sure to return that in tenfold.

Because of past relationships, you kind of expected to see your partner have wandering eyes but as long as they came home with you, you always felt like you didn’t have a right to be upset. At least, that’s what they told you. But Azriel’s eyes never strayed from yours. He hugged his family but he held you differently. As if he wanted every part of your body constantly being pressed against his.

However, if someone randomly came up touching him, he would either flatly look at them disgusted or politely decline depending on the social situation. He didn’t like hurting other people's feelings but he knew your scent was on him as well as his whole ass wedding ring.

You and the Inner Circle were at a party in the Summer Court. Tarquin and his newly wedded mate had thrown a lovely gathering. Tarquin even temporarily lifted the ban on Cassian. As long as he didn’t go anywhere alone.

You were too used to seeing multiple people throw themselves on your husband. But he didn’t even look at them. He kept telling them no and they just wouldn’t listen.

But this night, a night of love and celebration, you watched one girl just push it a bit too far. You could see your mate trying to politely turn her down and not cause a scene that would distract from the newly wedded couple.

So you did what anyone else would do.

Walked your sexy ass over and plopped down on his lap. Put his face in your hands and gave him a big ole kiss. You ignored the snickers from his brothers and the gasps from the girl and just focused on him. He kissed you back eagerly. His hands coming up behind your back and holding you.

You two pulled away, he smiled, a glimmer of affection and pure warmth was sent down the bond. “What was that for?”

You smiled, “I just wanted to.” You didn’t wanna admit it was jealousy. However, your husband wasn’t stupid. He smiled knowingly and you rolled your eyes. You turned towards the girl and she had already left.

Satisfied, you turned towards where Azriel was facing. You saw the Inner Circle giving you shit-eating looks. You did something no one would dare do to their High Lady however you got special privilege. “Shut the fuck up.” You murmured. She threw her beautiful head back and laughed. She knew all too well how you felt about Azriel’s admirers. She felt the same about Rhysand’s. Nesta tipped her glass to you, she also knew what it was like fighting off the admirers.

You leaned back against the warmth of your mate. A welcome contrast to the cool summer breeze on the patio.

After a bit more dancing, Nesta and Cassian retired to bed, Rhysand and Feyre quickly following. After a quick goodbye to the happy couple, you and Azriel began a walk by the beach.

“So do you prefer the sandy beaches or the rocky beaches of the Night Court?” Azriel asked you.

“Honestly, I’ve always hated sand. Blegh, the herpes of nature.” You shuddered.

He let out a loud, unguarded laugh and you found it the most beautiful sound. Usually, after a comment like that, your past partners would scold you.

But Azriel embraces you. He held your hand even tighter.

“But we wouldn’t be able to be barefoot in the Night Court.” He argued. “Yes, but we also don’t know what germs are touching our naked feet. I’d rather have protection. What if you step on glass in sand?” You said back.

He gave you a pensive thought. “It seems we agree to disagree.”

“You like the sand?” you asked softly. You’d put up with it for him. You’d put up a lot for this man.

“I don’t know what it is. It just feels nice.”

“Then we should look into a vacation rental here.” You squeezed his hand.

“No, no you hate-”

“Hey, I hate sand but I can put up with it if it means I get to wake up to your sexy naked body in the sun.” You gave an overdramatic shiver. “Lord, they’re gonna have to put me in church for the thoughts I just had about you.”

He let out another laugh, you wanted to preserve it in a jar and just open it to hear it. “Besides, a vacation rental would be nice. Just imagine,” You held your hand out in front of you as if to paint a scene. “A nice cabana, windows and doors wide open, curtains blowing in with the breeze. Fresh fruit and seafood waiting for us. The smell of sex and ocean water. A goddamn wet dream.”

But when you turned your head, you just saw him gazing at you full of love. “I’m looking at the only dream I’ll ever need right now.”

Your blush could’ve rivaled the earlier sunset. “Sap.”

“You love it.” “More than anything.” You said, all traces of joking gone.

You somehow were able to hold him tighter as you two continued walking

“Thank you for earlier by the way.” You whispered.

He looked confused, “what?”

“You didn’t entertain that random girl. I appreciated it.”

“You…you don't need to thank me for not looking at other people?” He was even more confused. “You’re my mate. My wife. You come first, always and forever, baby.” He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips to kiss your hand.

You got a bit embarrassed. “I’ve never been anyone's first choice, so it’s kind of crazy to me that I’m yours.” You admitted.

His heart slowly broke that you had never had someone treat you like this. He pulled you both to a stop. “You’ll always be my number one. Even above the Night Court. Above it all.”

“I’d never ask you to put me above your job, Az.”

“I know, hence why you’re put above it.” He pulled you in to kiss your forehead. “You deserve the best, better than me, I don't know how the Mother paired-“

“Shut up,” You snapped with no real bite. “You’re wonderful Az, I’ll always tell you that.”

He conceded, “we’re perfect together.”

“Fuck yeah we are.” You said bringing him in for a kiss.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader fluff #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar #azriel x you #azriel x y/n

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maybankswhore · 1 year

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the five love languages : physical touch

jj maybank— just a touched starved boy.

part one in the five love languages:

the five love languages— “What is a love language? The term love language refers to the way that a person prefers to express love to—and receive it from—a partner.”

jj maybank loves you the most when he’s holding your angel hand in his.

jj would never admit he needed anything from anyone in his life.

his pride was bigger than that.

on the outside he was confident , quirky. always quit witted and lightening the mood with a joke here and there.

but on the inside he was screaming.

you knew it would be hard to get jj to open up.

he wasn’t used to people caring about him.

he wasn’t used to being important.

the minute his walls broke down and your arms wrapped around his shivering and shaking body one night— he knew he had loved you.

for the first time in what felt like a lifetime , jj finally knew what it felt like to be loved by someone.

and not the kind of love he got from pogue’s.

the kind of love people always talked about. the kind of love jj swore would never exist for him.

you became his lifeline.

he didn’t care what he had planned , or what he was doing. . . for you , he’d drop it all just for a second of being around you.

his hands always fell into your hair , absentmindedly playing with the strands.

he loved when your head was in his lap , the warmth of your cheek and breath regulating his body temperature.

sometimes he’d fall asleep just like that.

his arms were always around your waist so the two of you were touching by the hips. engrossed in conversations with the pogue’s , or on his break at work— at school or at a party , it didn’t matter to jj. he didn’t care about anything other than knowing you were right there next to him.

sometimes for movie night he’d sit on the floor whilst you sat on the couch. his eyes would slit in comfort with each leg on either side of him , caressing your ankle with his thumb while holding onto it.

he was so attentive with you.

his phone was 9/10 on silent when the two of you hung out.

the longest phone call the two of you had was about an hour long at most because he was always with you , next to you.

he was clingy.

but the kind of clingy that wasn’t too much or annoying.

it was the kind of clingy that only a teenage boy in love with a girl like you could.

jj liked when you read books to him. the sound of your voice was his favorite sound , a lullaby sometimes. it was gentle , sweet.

he never got tired of hearing it.

he liked to shower with you.

washing your hair was his favorite part.

“oh my gosh will you stop moving!” said jj with an exasperated sigh. his fingers massaging in your shampoo tickled the back of your neck just a bit , causing you to shuffle around with giggles.

your laugh making him grin like a kid in a candy store.

“i’m sorry! it tickles!” you huffed , regaining your balance.

jj only peppered kisses on the back of your neck , feelin’ so giddy as you squealed in a fit of laughter , trying to run away from the ticklish feeling.

one of his favorites were boneyard parties.

he loved how carefree you got. he loved when you’d hold his hand and force him to dance with you.

“so close but so far away.” jj muttered with his hands around your waist and his forehead on top of yours. it was physically impossible to be any closer , but if jj could break the barriers of skin and bones and hold your soul in his forever— he’d do it in a heartbeat.

you loved it just as much , relishing in the feverish feeling his hands on your skin gave you. you smiled in response and leaned in to kiss him sweetly , your eye’s fluttering closed.

“do you think she ever gets annoyed by it?” pope asked the pogue’s , nodding towards the two of you on the far left of the beach too entranced in one another to care.

“no. if soulmates are real , it’s them.” kiara answered.

and there was never a day that you doubted jj maybank was in fact , your soulmate.

—

this will be series with the pogue’s of the five love languages ( i have a previous headcanon with rafe that is similar but not apart of the series! )

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank obx #jj headcanons #maybank #he’s so cute i love him

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tkwrites · 4 months

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Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together?

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing.

Me and you We were a strange situation And kissing you Felt like Christmas Vacation An exciting place to escape Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one.

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before.

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music.

“Do you need a towel, man?”

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed.

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot.

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder.

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide.

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.”

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women.

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights.

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music.

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it.

“Sure,” she yelled back.

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on.

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter.

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it.

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted.

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it.

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said.

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her.

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it.

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country.

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it.

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?”

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle.

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.”

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.”

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.”

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little.

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit.

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.”

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made.

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said.

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?”

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.”

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college.

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk.

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion.

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants.

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.”

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space.

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.”

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue.

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled.

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat.

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.

“Sure.”

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest.

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake.

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi.

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released.

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay.

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin.

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted.

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered.

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?”

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer.

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach.

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come.

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale.

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness.

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision.

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling.

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn.

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried.

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name.

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside.

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank.

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left.

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe.

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions.

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother.

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot.

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.”

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.”

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd.

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained.

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed.

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.”

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home.

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.”

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning.

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin.

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together.

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?”

He shook his head.

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard.

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app.

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over.

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet.

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“Listen, I heard you last night.”

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?”

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.”

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling.

“Is this about that girl?”

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -”

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her.

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside.

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.”

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.”

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something.

“How can we help you, darlin?”

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?”

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?”

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.”

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows.

“Is it condemned?”

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile.

“Did they find out what caused it?”

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.��

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around.

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t.

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?”

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.”

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had.

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?”

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note?

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am!

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.”

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts.

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?”

Yeah, my future, he thought.

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -”

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted.

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation.

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth.

“Someone was just here looking for you.”

Hope started hammering in his chest.

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.”

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick.

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.”

Now he really was going to throw up.

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night?

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning.

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side.

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.”

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell.

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months.

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books.

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory.

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up.

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.”

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team.

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said.

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?”

“Another team.”

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face.

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it.

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess.

“Look him up on Insta.”

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers.

She messaged him, hoping.

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder.

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life.

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight.

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest.

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it.

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2.

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting.

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before.

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be.

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks.

“Matthew?”

His head shot up.

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it.

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer.

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green?

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight.

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life.

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot.

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was.

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed.

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.”

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.”

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked.

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.”

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name.

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood.

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true.

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him.

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.”

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit.

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work.

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision.

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well.

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?”

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen.

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.”

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more.

Josh stayed where he was.

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?”

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long.

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked.

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?”

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.”

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.”

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out.

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right?

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.”

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open.

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else.

Matthew was the last at the table.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her.

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?”

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away.

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?”

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate.

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?”

“Eight,” he said.

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him.

“All for here?”

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.”

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew.

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded.

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice.

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at.

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal.

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?”

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left.

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car.

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?”

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears.

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?”

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud.

Both guys just waited.

“But the club caught fire.”

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…”

“Fucked it?” Benny asked.

“Yeah.”

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’”

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said.

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.”

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams.

“Uh, hello?” someone asked.

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring.

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor.

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?”

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him.

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down.

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said.

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results.

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes.

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?”

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.

“I guess so.”

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.”

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer.

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said.

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside.

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.”

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.”

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.”

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.”

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.”

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was.

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?”

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.”

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.”

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed.

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked.

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded.

“I’d at least give him a chance.”

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week.

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.”

She giggled.

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things.

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed.

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.”

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?”

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.”

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced.

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat.

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.”

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her.

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly.

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.”

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him.

She looked instantly downcast.

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture.

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important.

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.”

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them.

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.”

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded.

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them.

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?”

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.”

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said.

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.”

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.”

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.”

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?”

“Right. Yeah, okay.”

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes.

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this?

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked.

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?”

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants.

“That’s not fair,” she said.

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again.

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.”

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it.

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps.

“Only when I think you might come in.”

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning.

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra.

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs.

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans.

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.”

“Can you define that a little more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…”

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it.

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.”

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink.

God, maybe they really were made for each other.

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast.

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing.

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both.

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close.

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him.

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other.

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together.

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft.

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs.

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers.

There was the passion she’d been looking for.

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs.

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him.

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough.

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.”

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again.

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too.

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone.

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs.

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles.

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her.

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body.

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?”

“Hmm?”

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

“Okay.”

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin.

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to.

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure.

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning.

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing.

“What do you need?”

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.”

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched.

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust.

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps.

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

Body shaking, she cried out.

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her.

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.”

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times.

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.”

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?”

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?”

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool.

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room.

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed.

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter.

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.”

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere.

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to.

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling.

“Okay?” she asked again.

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in.

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation.

God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving.

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most.

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another.

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot.

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright.

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath.

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.”

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.”

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates.

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more.

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.”

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept.

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft.

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already.

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him.

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better.

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.”

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one.

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak.

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint.

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth.

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place.

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect?

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan.

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close.

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed.

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!”

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again.

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face.

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget.

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room.

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.”

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home.

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up.

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled.

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark.

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed.

Matthew nodded.

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief.

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed.

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date.

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for.

Fanciction Masterlist

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey romance #hockey fic #hockey smut

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becasworldsstuff · 11 months

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Can i please request a romantic Simon Basset x OC/reader fic? Simon being completely in love with her since they were young, but since his father told him to go away, they separated. They met again.

-> Pairings: Simon basset x reader

-> warnings: none

Simon basset and miss l/n had always been friends, thing caused by her bubbly nature that could outshine the sun even in an August day. She was the only one with whom he could talk without stuttering, he felt at ease and nothing could really make him sad if she was near him. Her presence as a reminder that not all in life was sad and angry at him, that not everyone was disappointed in him, on the contrary she never made him feel bad about himself.

When the old duke of Hastings sent his son away due to the problems he was causing to his own mental health, the two were separated, nothing in means of letters or visits between the two for years if not the memories captured together and the burning sensations in the part of their body that the other touched, or the single pink flower dried out inside Skmon's favorite book that she gifted him as a reminder of the beauty hidden behind fragilness. Both the young hearts were left shattered thinking they would never see each other ever again.

But in his drawer were piled up letters written in his best calligraphy and on the best paper money could buy, for his best friend and little piece of heaven, who had been his own safe place in the mess his childhood had been.

It was her who motivated him enough to return to his old house when the man died, and he found her on the steps of his big place, with glimmering eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed. He stopped in front of her with his mouth that had gone dry, she had grown into the most exquisite young lady he had ever seen or imagined to lay eyes on, his eyes widened and his hands were begging for something to grasp onto to not loose balance while she watched him, she took one step forward and his heart skipped a beat. Even if he only realized now he could pinpoint her as the only woman in his life to which he could ever truly love, but he stayed silent, catching up with her like old times, not stuttering like when they were just little kids playing in the garden not caring about duties.

The days passed and the season started, now miss l/n obviously came from a very wealthy family and her kindness and beauty were known upon the society, but this was her first season, and her older brother and father refused to give away such a perfect girl to anyone so, when they catched up with the Duke longing stares they decided to talk to him, a man of honor, well bred, wealthy. Simon never in his life thought that he deserved for his dreams to become reality but he knew he was a duke and her best solution to this world of strange couples, so he was the one to go talk to her father, asking him her hand in marriage and bowing down on one knee with watering eyes as he proclaimed his love to her:

" never had I ever experienced such strong emotions nor strange feelings, my stomach flutters and my troath goes dry as if I was denying myself with water for you, you make my heart stop and the dream of seeing you walk down the aisle to me has been my favorite image for my life. So please accept my undying love for you because I cannot breathe if I'm not near you, neither I can eat or drink or sleep away from you, you are my sun and my moon and every single star in the sky, my whole body was created to match yours and my core only exists to love you and adore you, you make me burn like I was in a fire that cannot die. So please do me the honor and let me make you the duchess of Hastings "

Her response was awaited from the ball room that had just seen him pacing in front of the doors before barging in and stopping the dance that was occurring at the time, she held her breath and nodded slowly while forcing herself to blink as I'd to make herself realize that that moment was true.

#simon basset x reader #duke x reader #duke of hastings #brigerton #the duke x reader #childhood friends to lovers #bridgerton fanfiction

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xbomboi · 1 month

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yapping about Briar. fellow Briar enjoyers assemble.

okay okay i don’t make it too obvious (or maybe i do, i wouldn’t know) but briar is my personal favorite character. i think about where the stories of all the characters would go and what their arcs would be a lot, but hers in particular is really important to me.

so i wanna talk about it.

first of all, she’s narcoleptic coded, right. we all know that. but her mom on the other hand reads to me, like, an alcoholic mother? and her dad is just willfully ignorant. either way, there’s a huge sense of neglect going on in that family. i mean go figure why briar would be the one doing most of the work raising her brothers. and of course she’s a party girl, because who’s gonna stop her? her parents? see yeah exactly.

so i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say she doesn’t have very strong parental figures in her life, at least not at home. but, and now you have to really hear me out about this one, i think baba yaga could take up a parental role in her life.

i know it isn’t much, but the seeds for her having at least a hint of a connection with baba yaga are there.

in the webisode “Stark Raven Mad”, baba yaga scolds briar for rambling about her party, and then as the commotion picks up she’s still exercising authority over briar in particular.

then there’s thronecoming, wherein, when briar is sulking at the dance, upon noticing the picture on the projector, she asks baba yaga for answers, who provides them.

and then skipping all the way to epic winter, after the girls become a little creeped out by her mannerisms and book it, briar is the one who makes sure to peak back in and give a parting remark.

so i think there’s potential there to be explored. her feeling neglected at home and then finding solace in another adult at school would be neat.

but the fact that it’s baba yaga is important, so just put a pin in that and we’ll circle back to it.

now, i think out of the core four, she was (at least at first) the hardest to actually pin-point what the future of her story could look like. with raven, i think it’s pretty clear her journey is just continuing to combat the prejudices of the world as she fights for change, apple is now pretty much on a path to figuring out her own future as ruler of a kingdom and what that’s going to entail, and maddie is the goofball that’s there to have fun and be supportive along the way.

then there’s briar. and, let me be clear, no, in my mind that girl is not sleeping for 100 years with where things are heading; in the main universe of the story, briar will be free of the sleeping beauty destiny.

but it’s like, if she’s not gonna sleep, what more is there to actually do with her? what direction COULD her life go in? because if she’s no longer fated to sleep 100 years of her life away, then she can’t just party like there’s no tomorrow anymore. she’d need to decide what she actually wants to do with her life.

and i think i have an idea.

i mentioned her narcoleptic coding at the start with intent to bring it up again. see, you might notice that a lot of the fairytale aspects of ever after high can be read as allegories for real-world problems. for example, hunter and ashlynn’s relationship is treated in their world the same way society may look at queer couples or biracial couples. or how raven’s mom being trapped in a mirror is their world equivalent to not paying child support.

with that kind of correlation in mind, i think treating briar’s curse as a condition could open up an interesting opportunity. i think, in their world, curses as a whole could be viewed as a separate branch of medical specialization, with briar spearheading this notion of thought.

we know briar is well-versed in chemythstry already. in the webisode “Briar’s Study Party” she makes note of the fact that she’s been studying forever-after, and she demonstrates enough knowledge in the subject to enthusiastically teach it to her friends, who all end up acing their tests on it as a result.

i think this is something she could potentially make a career out of. i think she could come to the conclusion that she wants to be able to help break curses for people everywhere, and could pursue learning to develop potions and elixirs to do so.

which could happen under baba yaga’s tutelage.

picture this: briar declares her newfound goal, to which baba yaga offers to teach briar all she knows in order to achieve what she’s set her sights on. briar—with an ounce of hesitance—accepts, and baba yaga officially takes her under her wing with the intent of mastering sorcery.

obviously, she wouldn’t lose who she is in this. she’s still gonna be an impulsive, adrenaline junkie who desperately needs a screentime limit on her mirrorphone. but in this process, she’d be rounded out by baba yaga and would in turn mature a bit from the experience. she’d get serious about life, but she wouldn’t let go of who she is at heart.

this could lead to her becoming the resourceful one in the main group. like on adventures, she’d be able to pull out a potion or whip something up (because i’m not going to let raven’s magic make her too o.p. she’s gotta have limitations) as a solution to problems. she could really have a role that proves useful and important to the story.

that’s my ideal pitch for where to take briar’s character.

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thatscarletflycatcher · 7 months

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Okay you got me. Tell me about PP 1980

Okay, so XD

Imagine you had a BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that was 5 hours long, faithful to the book, and yet having a different perspective/understanding/interpretation of the characters and the story? That's P&P 1980 in a nutshell, and I think it is worth watching just for that. But here are some other concrete things it has going for it, specially in relation to other adaptations:

The casting is closer in age than 95, and on one specific important case, closer than 05 too: Lady Catherine de Bourgh is played by an actress in her mid 40s, and she nails the absolute Opinionated Facebook AuntTM thing that the character has going in the novel.

It's not the only case of closer accuracy to the book in characters: Mr Collins is a young, tall, big guy, whose main issue is being very small minded, petty, and obsequent, instead of recurring to "he's greasy or slimy" as other adaptations do.

If you agree/like the "Darcy has autism" headcanon, this is the adaptation that leans the most heavily into it (it does overdo it, in my opinion, but there's a very interesting contrast between the flat affect of his facial expression, and the richness of inflexion in his voice)

Elizabeth Garvie's Lizzy is just... extraordinary. This adaptation circumvents the Jane-as-prettier-than-Lizzy issue by casting as Lizzy an actress with big, dark, very expressive eyes, small features and a very lively, sharp countenance and manners, whereas Jane's actress is tall and graceful and has a general air of kindness and sweetness, but in a very youthful way.

Speaking of Jane, this adaptation focuses much more on the sisters as sisters, and gives special emphasis to Lizzy's love for Jane, which I appreciate a lot.

Also speaking of Jane, Jane and Bingley are the cutest in this. They are given time, and he's kind and sociable and sweet without being an idiot. This adaptation includes that great line of his about how he wouldn't mind Darcy so much if he wasn't so tall, and the following comment about how Darcy can be fastidious of a Sunday evening.

That way, this adaptation includes several fan favorite scenes/lines that don't usually make it to adaptation, such as Darcy asking Lizzy to dance a reel, Lizzy playing and singing at a party in Meryton, Caroline teasing Darcy about putting uncle and aunt Phillips on the Pemberley portrait gallery, and the "I cannot fix the hour or the spot..." line. EDIT: also, the coffee pot scene!! and the rivalry between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas!

I also think it balances well how awful, in different ways, both Mr and Mrs Bennet (EDIT: and she's not insufferably shrill!!!!) are as parents (unlike how 95 and 05 "pick sides"); it emphasizes how self centered her efforts are, and how lazy and callous he can be in his mockery and indolence.

The opening sequence of each episode is a roll of a hand-drawn summary of the events of the episode and that's such a lovely detail.

Mind you, the adaptation is not without its faults. The production values are not what we are accustomed to nowadays. Some acting and lines are stilted and/or awkward. It has the odd choice here and there that is involuntarily funny. But I don't think people need discouragement from seeing it. I don't even think most of the general Austen fandom is aware of its existence. For my part, it has become my favorite adaptation of P&P (that I have watched so far; I haven't gotten yet to either 1967 or the Italian one).

#ask #kajaono #pride and prejudice #Jane Austen #pride and prejudice 1980

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darkvioletwonderland · 6 months

Text

HEARTSTEEL Headcanons - Display of Affection ✨

This is the first time I’m writing Headcanons for these guys so bare with me <3

Ezreal

When it comes to affection, he’s all about always letting you know you’re on his mind. His love is creative and caring.

Sliding sticky notes with doodles into your purse or wallet with affectionate words like “You’re my most precious” “The light of my life” “You’re the most colorful flower in the garden”. Most times, you’re not sure how he’s able to do so without getting caught.

He always asks to see your outfit of the day. Admiring whatever you decided to put on regardless if it made sense.

If he had a song lyric in mind, he’d ask to hop on a call with you so you could listen to him work on it.

He constantly seeks hugs from you. You cannot escape the green man from cuddling you with a loving embrace.

Kayn

He bites. Lovingly of course. Hes not super good when it comes to saying feelings outright. But his love is passionate and wild.

He hugs you from behind when you’re cooking. Only nibbling your shoulder if you don’t give him the attention he seeks.

He’s chaotic and passionate about it. His kisses always longer than a minute. Leaving you breathless every single time.

Compliments always come in the form of whispers into your ear. They can range from something casual to something that leaves you a blushing mess.

He’s definitely made you do Karaoke with him (mostly to appease Rhaast)

K’sante

His love is sweet and honest. Always making sure to say the right things to have you smile.

Every now and then, he surprises you with your favorite dessert. Because to him, you always deserve a treat.

When there’s music playing, he pulls you along to dance with him. Letting you step on his feet if you don’t quite know how to move.

He always asks for you to tell him which perfume to wear that day. Knowing you like a specific cologne on him.

During an event, he will ask what color is your outfit. So he can match with you with a suit or a tie. (He loves going out in style)

Aphelios

His love is kind and attentive. Always looking your way when you walk in the room. Noting everything about you.

Every couple of days, you wake up to poems about his love for you. Just don’t mind if they were made at 3 am.

He draws hearts along your skin with his finger whenever you two are alone.

Before a prank, he lets you in on the logistics so you can join him on the fun. You’re his partner in crime.

He’s definitely matching profile icons with you. All the time.

Sett

His love is happy and energetic. A smile is always on his face when he sees you.

Whenever he visits his mom, he always gets a batch of cookies to bring to you. Knowing you like them too.

He cracks all the bad jokes he knows to hear you laugh. (Even if Aphelios in the corner is tired of hearing the entire book of dad jokes 101)

He always picks up flowers when he’s out for a run. Not flower shop flowers, but flowers he finds along the way. Why? Because he sees them and they remind him of you. They’re pretty so what if they’re random flowers amr?

He falls asleep easily on your lap because you are that safe space for him. And he hopes you don’t let the other guys draw on his face.

Yone

His love is loyal and gentle. Being by your side is the peace he needs to deal with the band of idiots.

Whenever he makes a mix for a song, he lets you listen while he works on it in the studio.

When you two are alone, he loves hugging you close by the waist and pressing gentle kisses over your lips.

He takes care of your hair and always lets you know how you deserve all the care in the world.

His favorite sound is your heartbeat.

Bonus!

Alune

Her love is quiet but deep.

At the end of the day from dealing with the band affairs, seeing you is all she looks forward to.

Her favorite thing is cuddling with you to sleep and waking up together.

She enjoys shopping with you. (Even though she has to bring Aphelios along so he’s not always indoors)

She blows you kisses when no one is looking.

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Note

BINGO: friends to lovers w/tasm!peter parker

Prompt 17: "Do you think they heard us?" "Yes. We did."

reader & peter having a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing going on for a while/just so much pinning with stolen stares, hugs that last too long, the other boiling with jealousy but never saying anything because it’s not their place.

then it all just comes to a breaking point where one of them is acting off/distance and they have a fight about it until they confess to the other that they’re in love with the other and it hurts too much to be around them and that leads to smut 🫶🏽

—𓆩[will they, won't they]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, angst, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.3K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter had a more… complicated friendship. Best friends since childhood and ever since then, you both have always danced around your feelings. You finally decide to drop your feelings for your best friend after he starts spending more time with Gwen Stacy, and decided to go out on a date with one of the jocks from school and pull away from Peter, unbeknownst to you him, Gwen, and some more of your best friends are planning a giant date proposal for you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - I gave y’all some extra friends cuz y’all don’t have enough- || you definitely know about him being Spider-Man, and your friend group || you have glasses now! (During studying) || he accidentally blows you off for Gwen but with good reason! || cursing and foul language || you think Peter likes Gwen so maybe a little bit of angst but it’s resolved quickly || yeah no maybe a bit more than a little bit of angst- || made up OC that’s a jock and you go out with him smut warnings: sex with people in the same house as you, Peter is a fucking munch no one can change my mind, more experienced reader x less experienced Peter, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, creampie

“So, we have her favorite flowers booked, we have her favorite food, anything else?” Gwen looks up from her clipboard that was meant to make her look more professional. She and Carter, a guy that pushed his way into your friend group, along with Alia and Jamison, all had a bet on when the hell this was going to happen.

Gwen placed two weeks, and Alia was already out because she said three days, while Carter said one week and Jamison a week and a half. The winner would have your child named after them; it was a good bet.

“Do we have her favorite songs lined up?” Peter was chewing on his thumb, anxiously walking back and forth on the roof of his apartment. “And-”

“Peter, you’re overreacting so much,” Gwen says laughing, holding up her clipboard. “I already have everything ready! You have no need to worry about anything, I got the flowers, the lights, the food, everything! It’s going to be perfect.” She looks down at her watch, nodding. “Now, it’s almost eight-”

Peter quickly looks down at his phone, gasping. “Holy shit, I was supposed to meet Y/N at seven for movie night! I’ll see you later, Gwen, thank you!”

He grabs his bag, jumping off the roof and shooting a web out to catch him.

“Go get her bug boy!” Gwen yells as Alia comes behind her, biting into one of your favorite candy bars.

“You think they’ll fuck?”

“I highly doubt it.”

It didn’t take Peter long to get to the fire escape of your apartment, settling himself onto the railing to watch your scrunched face stare down at a physics worksheet. You mumbled softly, flipping through your notes and pushing up your glasses before slamming your head down onto your desk.

It makes Peter wince as you groan loudly, quickly pushing up your window making you look back with a gasp. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late, I was with Gwen-”

“Peter, what are you doing here?!” You whisper yelled, quickly standing and pushing against his chest. “You need to leave! Now!”

“What? Why?” He looked down at his suit, more specifically where your hands were on his chest before he heard more footsteps. “Is someone here?”

“Peter, leave! Now!” You pushed him out the window, quickly closing and locking it before shutting the curtains.

“I brought us some snacks!” A voice says, Peter peeking into your room in the slight exposition of the curtains. “So, strawberries or cheese? Or both, like in Ratatouille?”

You giggle, walking toward the form, Peter almost growling when he saw Henry’s pretty face and blond hair. “You know, strawberries and cheese aren’t that bad. I’ve tried it before.”

“Oh yeah?” Henry laughs. “How about we watch Ratatouille and reminisce instead of doing physics?”

You laugh. “Oh, I wish. What about we get some work done and then we watch Ratatouille?”

Henry nods, plopping onto your bed in the same space Peter always did making his fists clench. “I’ve never been good at physics.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you spin your chair around. “Me either.”

He hummed, rubbing his chin. “What about your friend? Parker? He’s good at physics, isn’t he?”

Your eyes flicker toward the window, Peter raising a brow as he nods his head in agreement. “His name is Peter,” you stand, quickly shutting the curtain correctly. “And yes, he is sickeningly good at physics.”

“Why don’t we call him up?” Henry opens his binder, humming. “I’m sure he could help.”

Your brow ruffled when the doorbell rings, quickly standing. “Who could that be?”

“Let’s hope it’s Peter,” Henry laughs as he follows behind you, your pretty apartment organized chaos.

When you open your door, your face falls when you see Peter in his clothes, obviously messy like he changed coming down the stairs (which he did, thank you), a smile on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Peter!” Henry says, smiling. “You’re here!”

“I am,” Peter tries not to make his voice sound completely and utterly annoyed. “Got a sense that someone might need my physics powers.”

“Well, your sense was wrong,” you said immediately, Henry laughing.

“No, it was right. It really was.”

“You gonna let me in?” Peter asks as you glared up at him.

“Henry, I think it might be best if we continue this another day. You have to be home by eight thirty anyways, right?” You look back at the blonde boy who looked down at his very expensive watch.

“Oh, where did the time go! Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” He starts walking toward your room, Peter taking that as his chance to sneak in.

“Yes!” You yelled back, shoving Peter who barely budged thanks to his new abilities. “Tomorrow night sounds good!”

Henry comes walking back out, bag over his shoulder. “Perfect,” he smiles at Peter. “Maybe I’ll see you before then, Parker! Hopefully we can get some physics done, my mom is making pot roast that is literally to die for so I need to get back.”

“Ooo, pot roast,” Peter says all posh like Henry does, and you roll your eyes instead of laughing like you normally would. “That sounds so good. You can’t miss that, Henry.”

“Right!” Henry laughs, turning to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “That sounds great, Henry,” you say as he slowly walks out, slowly closing the door before Henry quickly puts his hand between the door and the frame. “Yes?”

“I uhm… have a good night, Y/N.”

You inhale shakily, smiling. “You… you too, Henry.” Slowly, you close the door and lock it before turning around, jumping when you see Peter. “Peter!”

“What’s going on tomorrow night?”

You scoffed. “Henry’s taking me out on a date.”

Peter froze, quickly fixing his glasses as though his vision would affect his hearing. “What?”

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. He’s taking me out tomorrow night to a restaurant his father owns.”

Peter shakes his head. “I… we have plans tomorrow night, Y/N.” Tomorrow was the night, you couldn’t not come on the night.

You shake your head back, crossing your arms. “Well, I thought you’d be late to that like you were today.”

Peter scoffs, rubbing his chin. “I was late one time, Y/N! You know I always come!”

You put your finger out, wiggling it toward him. “No! No, it wasn’t one time! It’s been every day for the past three weeks, you’re late to class and you say, ‘Sorry Y/N, I was with Gwen’, or study halls, ‘Sorry Y/N, I got caught up with Gwen’, or something with Gwen fucking Stacy! If want to hang out with her, you hand out with her, but don’t make plans with me whenever you’re going to be late or you don’t fucking show up at all!”

He didn’t stand you up that many times, did he? He goes through all of them, wincing slightly. Maybe he had stood you up a lot.

The room was silent as you inhaled shakily, rubbing your face with your palms. “Just… I need to finish my homework. You wasted my time arguing with me about something I’ve told you about for the past week.”

Peter’s face scrunches. “You haven’t told me about going on a fucking date with Henry fucking Ford.”

“His name is Henry Baltimore!” You yelled at him once again, covering your mouth. You had yelled more at Peter tonight more than you ever had before. “You would know that if you would read your fucking texts. Now, I need you to leave before I say something I can’t take back.”

Peter shakes his head, quickly coming in front of you. “No, Y/N, please. Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t go, don’t go out with him tomorrow night. I need to tell you something important.”

You shake your head, inhaling shakily as you press your face into your hands to hide your teary eyes from him. What was he going to tell you, that he and Gwen were dating?

“Peter, I don’t want to see you, please leave.”

He shakes his head, holding your shoulders. “No, I’m not leaving, I’m not-”

You shoved him, gasping in air to hold back your tears. “Peter, get the fuck out!” He inhaled deeply as you wipe at your cheeks, sniffling. “Y/N-”

“Peter, I’m not going to tell you again. Get out.”

Slowly, Peter walks toward the door as you stand there, arms cradling your own body as you try to control your breathing. He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door, looking back at you as you breathed shakily. “Y/N,” he says softly, but you shake your head, refusing to look back at him. “I just… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, grabbing the blanket from the couch. “Lock the door on your way out, and leave the key under the door.”

Your heart aches as he does exactly what you said, but what else could he do? You wanted him to do one thing but told him another, how could he know what you wanted him to do?

Peter kneels down slowly, slipping the key back under your apartment door before that special tingle comes in. “What do you want?”

He slowly stood and turned around, sighing when he saw Henry. “Oh uhm… I-I left my charger.”

Peter nods slightly, holding back a scoff. How the hell do you forget a charger? “Right.”

“Peter?” Henry says as he starts to walk away, pausing. “You… you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

The one time the stereotypical jock had to be smart, the one fucking time.

“You just… you treat her right and I won’t kill you.”

You were going to kill Peter Parker. Henry called you an hour before your date after you spent hours getting ready, hoping to have the pretty dress you spent good fucking money on ripped off at most three hours into the date and the makeup you spent hours on ruined by the morning.

But no, Peter, Peter fucking Parker bad to ruin it all — all of it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really think you should talk to Parker before you go on a date with me. If nothing changes, I’m here.”

Changes? What the fuck was going to change?

You banged on the door, your knuckles burning as you looked down at the pink dress dotted with hand sewed strawberries all over, especially on the pink area of the corset. You did not spend almost two hundred dollars on a dress (with matching lingerie) to not have it ripped off.

When Gwen opened the door, she gasped. “You’re here!” She looked down at her watch. “And early! Why aren’t you on the roof-”

“Where is he?”

Gwen pauses when she hears your voice, slowly letting you inside as you stomped toward his room, unknowingly following the path of red rose petals.

“Hey Y/N- Y/N?!” Carter was shocked to see you before you opened Peter’s door, looking around before groaning and slamming the door.

“Peter! I know you’re in here! What the hell did you do, Henry called and canceled on me!”

You continue to turn around, gasping when you see him kneeling down in front of you. This was not happening.

“What… what are you doing?”

“We-Well uhm,” he quickly stands, fixing his suit. Peter never wore a suit. “That was probably too formal, the kneeling, but uhm-”

“Peter,” you say finally, inhaling. “Hurry up and say what you were going to say.”

He slips his hand into his pocket, slowly taking out a velvet box. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry it took me so long, I am, I just wanted it to be perfect.” He opened it slowly, a thin silver band with a diamond in the center making you gasp. “It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. You said, you said you always wanted a promise ring and-”

“Hurry up, Peter!” You almost screeched, quickly covering your mouth as he smiled, his pretty whiskey eyes looking up at you.

“Well, do you want me to kneel down or-”

You cupped his face, quickly pulling him down to kiss you, humming as his hands quickly found their place at your hips. You could feel the pressure of the small box, slowly stepping back as he follows obediently, groaning against your lips before the back of your knees bump against his mattress. Slowly, he pulls away just enough to press the velvet box into your hand.

His cheeks are red as he brushes his nose against yours, humming. “Is that a yes?”

You nodded, gasping as he slipped the ring onto your finger before setting down the box. He inhaled shakily as he lifted your hand to press against his lips. “I hope this is okay. We’ve been friends for years and-”

“Dammit, just shut up, Peter.”

You pulled him down to kiss you making him rush to put his own ring on push you down against the bed, groaning as his fingers rub against the satin ribbon keeping your dress on your body. “H-How the hell do you undo this-”

“Just pull it, you need to untie it,” you giggled, sitting up just enough for him to tug on the string and press kisses to your skin. “Peter, Peter fuck-”

“I know, honey, I can feel you,” he whispered, body already shaking. He could feel every little thing you did, he could hear every sharp breath you took as his fingers trail over your back and finally untie your dress and the cold hits your skin. “I can feel everything you do.”

Most of all, he could feel how aroused you were. He could smell it, as weird as that sounded, a sweet aroma filling his nose as he kissed into your neck and the small sparks that traveled through his fingers.

He pulls it down to your waist, hissing as you lift your hips into his just enough so he can pull it down your body, but the feeling of your body so close to his makes his eyes roll back. Your hands start to tug on his blazer before he can even finish pulling down your dress, pulling away from his lips to let out a soft whine.

“Peter, please, please-”

“I know honey, I know,” he whispers back, pulling off his blazer before he is able to focus on your body. You didn’t have a bra on, of course you didn’t because your top was a corset, but the amount of exposed skin made him stop. “Holy shit.”

“Peter, you have way too much clothes on.”

He nods frantically, quickly obeying your not so subtle command, unbuttoning his shirt before you pull him down for another kiss, humming against his lips. Your fingers push into his slacks, a whine leaving his mouth as you pull out his shirt to finish taking it off, his hands going behind his back to grab the cuffs and pull it off.

The kisses were hot, your tongue pushed into his mouth as he groaned loudly, his hands cupping your face as your own press along his chest. He pulled away just a bit for breath, letting his eyes trail along your body before your hands pressed against his chest, stroking along all of his scars.

You were the one who healed the wounds before the scars, it was only right you were the one who kissed them afterwards. With that thought, your lips pressed to the waxy skin as his hands started to undo his belt, thankful for the fact he hadn’t been able to put on his shoes.

Oh but yours, the pretty white platform heels that had to have been more than four inches and the Velcro strap around your ankles really made him want to put them around his waist, or over his shoulders — whichever came first.

“Peter?” You whisper, his eyes quickly flashing to yours. You gasped, his pupils wide as he stared at you, his hands shaky. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” he whispers, shaking his head as he pulls his pants and boxers off, inhaling deeply. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. It’s my first time after… you know, and I swear I can feel everything.”

“Everything?” You swallow, gasping as your cunt clenched around nothing, his eyes rolling back as he slowly begins to pump his cock.

“Everything.”

You shiver as he slowly pressed his head against your pretty lace underwear, the pink fabric embellished with strawberries embroidered onto it. He inhaled as he watched the beads of precum spread across the lace, groaning loudly.

This couldn’t have been for Henry, no. This was for him and him only, he was going to make sure of it.

“This was for that preppy mother fucker?” He almost growls, leaning down to slowly slip the panties down your thighs. He certainly would have kept them on if he wasn’t planning on absolutely devouring you.

“Peter, h-he’s not-”

“Important?” Peter suggests, kissing against your plush thighs before groaning against your skin. “Gonna make you forget his fucking name.”

Your eyes rolled back as he slowly slipped his fingers down your slit, smearing your wetness up to your clit as your eyes rolled back, gasping as his fingers firmly rub circles onto your sensitive bud. It makes you whine as he gets faster, watching as it starts to get swollen and puffy.

He groaned, leaning down to press open mouth kisses to your lower lips, sucking and tugging with his teeth as his fingers rubbed faster against your clit. He could feel you squirming under him, hands tugging his hair as you whined loudly. “Peter, Peter please-”

“Please what? Hm?” He teased you, smiling as your hips buckled. “What do you want?”

You whined loudly, the sound making the hairs on his neck stick up as he groaned into your cunt. “I-Inside, please inside-”

He hummed, his fingers slowly teasing around the tight ring of muscle. “You want what inside? What, hm?”

“Y-You, any of you, all of you!” Your voice is loud, eyes rolling back as he slowly pushes in a finger. You moaned loudly, the feeling almost foreign because you haven’t had sex or touched yourself in a long time. “Fuck!”

His finger is long and thick, curling inside of you and he could feel that tough part inside of you. He stroked it, watching as your eyes rolled back and he started to thrust his finger, pulling in and out joint by joint before pushing in until his knuckles pressed against your wet cunt. You screamed out, whining as your hips rode his digits.

“You’re so desperate,” he whispers, lips latching onto your clit and sucking loudly. He could feel your nails digging into his scalp with another whine. “What do you want, hm? Another one?”

He watched you nod, hips bucking. “Yes. Yes, I want another one, please!”

Slowly, he pushed another in, watching as you whined loudly. He could feel your body spark in slight pain and discomfort, so he lets them stay still for a minute as you panted softly. “You okay?”

You nod, humming as you slowly move a hand to his cheek. “I’m perfect, Peter. More than perfect.” He smiled, slowly thrusting his fingers to hear a mewl fall from your lips. “Fuck!”

He laughs at the pretty curse falling from your mouth, something too foul and disgusting dripping from your pretty lips humoring him. “Don’t be rude now,” he says immediately, his other hand firmly rubbing against your puffy clit. “I won’t be so nice if you start getting mouthy on me.”

You shake your head. “I won’t, I’m sorry, please please-”

He starts to thrust his fingers, eyes rolling back as he stares at your scrunched up face covered in makeup. As much as he hated the thought of ruining your pretty mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow with painted strawberries on it, he wanted nothing more than to ruin it.

He pushed your clit between his fingers, sucking hard as you squirmed before he moved his hand just a bit to press against your pelvis. “Behave, bug.”

The nickname made you whine, your hand continuing to tug on his hair as he pressed firm kissed down your slit, thrusting his fingers in and out of you as the other rubbed firm circles into your clit and your walls clamping and clenching around his digits made him moan out and rut his hips into the bed.

“You want another, darling? Hm? I think you’re going to need it for me, honey, truly.”

You nodded, gasping as he slowly pushed another one in and thrusts his fingers slowly, watching your body writhe under him. He inhaled sharply at the feeling, groaning out as he kissed against your leaking cunt. Your hips buck up into his fingers, whines falling from your lips before shaking your head. “Peter, Peter! Peter, I want you- please. Please, need you now-”

He laughs. “What, you don’t want me to finish stretching you out? You just want to feel my cock?”

You nodded, tugging his head back. “Yes. Yes, yes please!”

Slowly, he pulled but his fingers, sucking and kissing against your entrance before pushing his fingers into his mouth. “You just want to be stretched out by me, don’t you?”

You nodded, gasping as he sat up and kneeled over your body. He takes his cock that was leaking precum drip out steadily as he pumped himself and watched it slowly spurt onto your cunt. It makes you whine as he slathers it around with his tip, pushing it down your slit before pushing his head into your cunt.

He watched your eyes roll back, a groan falling from his lips before he ruts his hips deeper into you. You whine, hands quickly rubbing against his back before your nails dig into his skin. He let out a shaky moan, groaning loudly as he pressed a kiss to your head. “Fucking hell, darling, you’re so tight. So, so tight.”

You squirm. “Feels good, feels so good,” you say, gasping as he starts to thrust, whining loudly. “Oh! Holy shit, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

He groaned into your neck, cursing as he held himself up by his hands and rolled his hips. “Fuck, fuck baby, barely been in for a minute and I’m already going to cum. You’re so fucking tight around me, I can barely breathe.”

You nod repeatedly, your head shaking as you pull him lower. “Please, please, inside. Don’t pull out, I don’t want you to pull out.”

His eyes rolled back as he choked, your walls tight as he started to thrust harder and harder, the bed slamming into the wall. Your nails scratch against his back, sobs of pleasure falling from your lips as his cock drags against your walls and hits that spot inside of you that makes your body shake. Your hips almost instinctively rolled into his own, desperate for more before he pulled your legs around him, the cold faux leather and your heavy platforms settling against his lower back.

“Fuck, fuck baby,” he whispers, almost growling as his thrusts get harder and unhinged, your body bouncing withe every test. “Fucking hell!”

You moaned his name over and over, the only thing calling from your mouth Peter, Peter, Peter… like a mantra, whines most likely interrupting every syllable. He could feel every twitch of your fingers, every clench of your cunt, every breath against his neck as he pressed kisses to your shoulder.

He dragged his tongue along your skin, teasing his teeth against you before sucking. He could feel your chest against his, your stuttering breath before you pulled him up for a kiss and your fingers shakily ran through his hair. He almost whimpered, hips moving faster before you clamp down on him with a loud moan and a creamy ring enveloping his cock.

His hips stutter, loud moans falling from your lips before he inhales deeply and thrusts into you as deep as he could, screaming out your name as he comes inside.

His eyes roll back, broken moans leaving his lips as you breathe shakily, hands rubbing against his cheeks. “It took you long enough.”

Peter smiles. “Yeah, it did, didn’t it? You know… I was always with Gwen because she and the rest of them were helping me plan this.”

You gasped, looking back. “You think they heard?”

“Yes! Yes, we did! Everything! The cumshot too!”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

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nobrashfestivity · 6 months

Note

I always appreciate the space you give to marginalised artists on your blog, in particular marking certain dates like yesterday's World AIDS Day with select individuals. It's a small thing, but it means very much.

That's a very kind thing to say, thank you.

There's really so much great art in the world, from everywhere, I wish i had more time to delve into and understand it.

Personal story:

When I was young teenager, I used to hang around a lot of artists and teachers. When you're a certain age, just being around people who live their life in a particular way is fascinating. These people did acting and sculpture and dance and they put on plays and painted murals and, most importantly, welcomed anyone who was interested to learn or participate in their whole world. These are people who would play you Miles Davis, introduce you to their favorite southern Indian restaurant, or take you to a Fellini movie. I almost could not conceive of the freedom these people displayed. The joyfulness of making art seemed like a whole world that had been hidden from the more mainstream part of society I grew up in.

Because I wanted to be an artist, I got so much encouragement from a whole community of older artists. It would be hard to calculate how important that was to someone trying to figure out if they could do these things as an adult. One teacher of mine at school was a mentor and a friend who gave me a book by Heidegger when I was 15. It was a small personal gesture of confidence that I could get something out of it. And that confidence made me feel responsibility, I think. Like, if someone you admire thinks you can do something maybe you should investigate it.

Another friend lent me her apt when she was travelling for 6 months. I was 16 and I never had my own place. This was a lively part of the city, you could look out your window all night and see the goings on, yelling, laughing, music, conversations. If you were bold you could by weed on the street but half the time it was oregano. One night I saw a cop car on fire sitting in the middle of the street. It remains maybe the most surreal image of my life.

A few years later, I watched many of these people waste away from AIDS. No medical person knew what to do. The government ignored it. Everyone joked about it. When you went to funerals, the parents of same sex couples often would deny the existence of these partners and shut them completely out of the grieving process. The stigma was so bad and society was so fearful. You would ask about someone you had no seen in a while and it would turn out they were gone. People were decimated and no one would even hug them when they were dying.

We lost a whole generation of artists. And the fear and hatred of anyone who was different continues now, just in different clothing. So, I never forget about AIDS because there are so many people I wish I could go visit now and talk to about life or art, but they have been erased along with many of their friends.

I know social causes can be annoying. Celebrities take them up and there's always some crisis jarring you to take action. But i think it's good to remember those people you loved long ago. It keeps them from becoming ghosts.

#personal #anonymous #aids

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rae-and-mezo · 1 year

Note

Can you do when yn treats the house elves like their her children and the boys (ominis,sebastian, gareth,and amit) or the girls (poppy,natt,imelda, and Anne) get jealous or you can put whatever reaction!😊 please do this I'm begging 😭

A/n: I love this!! Some of them are shorter because I didn't know how to expand on their general opinion. I tried so hard to not repeat myself!

Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakkar, Poppy Sweeting, Natty Onai, Imelda Reyes, Anne Sallow

Sebastian:

Honestly, he's kind of annoyed.

Like the treatment of Elves is infuriating, sure, and he agrees with being kind obviously. But do you really have to cancel a date because Ticky the Elf wants to perform a dance for you?

And why do THEY get forehead kisses every day and he only gets them when he's sitting down? Maybe it's because he's just tall but HEY.

At first the elves are scared of him, and he hates it. He goes out of his way to show he means no harm but didn't intend to get roped into the mess.

Why do they want him to come see the room MC had them decorate in the room of requirement?

Why the hell is one asking him what MC prefers: Vanilla or Chocolate? They want to make her a cake? Okay...but he expects a piece.

Slowly he comes to love them as MC does, like a dad with a kitten.

Ominis:

My boy is...confused? But delighted.

The Gaunts had a house elf! Her name was Cinder, and she was more like a mother than Mrs. Gaunt. He always treated her with utmost respect and the way his parents treated her made him sick to his stomach.

His whole Hogwarts career he has tried to be very polite to the elves, letting them know someone cares.

And when you show him your army of elf friends, he is delighted!!

Asks them all their names and some more general questions.

One of them learned a new song or something of the like? He is listening with a patient smile on his face even though it is the worst thing he has ever heard.

They don't really understand his blindness actually. They're supporting but ask him tons of questions. I think Ominis would really like educating them about how he experiences the world as long as they aren't being patronizing.

He adores listening to you interact with the elves!!

He asks them so much advice and input on how to show Cinder he appreciates her. Like...does he give her a gift? Will this upset her? Is this too much?

Also, he remembers like everything. Tries too at least. You come into the common room late, telling him about how you were helping an Elf read a muggle book? He asks you if you've gotten to his favorite part. That particular elf tends to like the romance novels, and chapter nine is when the hero gets the girl.

In short, he loves the elves almost as much as you do!

Garreth:

He's so dumb. I love him.

Coming from a poorer family, Garreth had never seen a house elf until Hogwarts. They were strange creatures.

And then you have a whole crew?? Okay, but he wasn't expecting it.

He...he has trouble seeing them as sentient beings. I hate to say it, but he does! Of course, he respects all they do for the castle, but at first, he doesn't understand why you like them so much. He treats them not unlike a pet.

You tell them to be polite and introduce themselves, and he is so weirded out by each one introducing themselves and shaking his hand.

They pick up on his hesitation and come to you with their worries and after a lecture from you, Garreth is ready to try again. Reluctantly, but he is.

Is it possible to embarrass yourself in front of a house elf? If it is, Garreth does it. He's so scared of saying or doing something wrong that he ends up embarrassing the hell out of himself.

He grows to see them as they are: intelligent and sentient creatures that have a lot to offer. After a while he is comfortable enough to give them high fives in the hallway, or gift them things (mostly prank items, and then he has to teach them it is meant to be funny and not an attack-)

Amit:

He honestly has learned not to think twice about anything when it comes to you.

So, when you ask him to meet you in the room of requirement and you're surrounded by elves? A little strange, but it doesn't deter him from asking if you got all the notes down for DADA.

The elves scatter when he speaks, running to look like they are working. It surprises him, and even more so when you hush him as you coax them all out.

They do NOT like him at first because he comes at inconvenient times and how are they supposed to prepare you hot chocolate before bed when you're off looking at star charts??

And meanwhile poor Amit is working hard to get their seal of approval because anything you like he does too. It's very important to him!

Well one day they mention that they like the Gramaphone and the pretty music but the Gramaphone isn't working as of late. It gives you an idea, and now Amit is standing in front of a mini crowd playing his little violin heart out.

The elves kinda overwhelm him with how many there are and how needy they are to you, but it amazes him how you are so patient with them.

If there is a house elf language, he is learning it. Both to impress you and try to win over your little army.

Basically, he is slightly intimidated by the elves, but he loves you so he tries his best to get along with them. He definitely is no longer taking the food at dinner for granted, that's for sure.

Poppy:

She's so sweet.

At first, worries that the elves might have malicious intent because of how often they were pulling you away. But quickly she realized it wasn't the case.

The elves already adore her as she has always been incredibly sweet to them. Plus, in third year she saved a baby house elf which sparked her interest in them as more than servants.

She's more like their friend than parent, though, she thinks it's incredibly sweet how loving you are towards them.

Gets them ALL christmas presents. every single one. Doesn't tell you about it and holds you when you're overwhelmed by the kindness!

They will all follow her around, and she responds to every one of their jokes and makes sure she never leaves them out of conversation.

Makes funny faces at them from across the hall just like she would any other friend and it makes them feel welcomed.

After late nights in the vivarium, Poppy is dragging you to the kitchens. Even though you don't have to be dragged there. You two sit on the counter and recount your adventures to the elves while they busy themselves making you a snack. If there are dishes to be done she offers to help even if they decline.

Natty:

Always up for some adventure! Finds the elves fascinating honestly.

"Theoretically, if a master gives you a sock to wash, are you free? Can you choose your own clothes? Wait, if you can, are you allowed to shop for them? That would be so-" "Natty..." "Right, sorry."

She treats them like she would treat anybody else tbh. In her home country, she never had house elves and the concept of having someone thanklessly serving you makes her sick. So, she does her best to show her appreciation.

However, the elves will NOT take time she wants to spend with you away. They want to talk to you? Fine, but Natty is there too.

Tells you later how cute you are when you're interacting with something you love.

She gets the elves to help make you a GIANT Christmas present.

She and the elves see each other as equals and are friends!

Imelda:

Another jealous one. Omg.

Sure, elves are mistreated. It's wrong. But maybe they deserve to be kicked around a little when they KEEP YOU FROM QUIDDITCH PRACTICE!

Would never harm the elves or speak harm about them, but they have come to recognize her glare meaning "Hey, it's MY turn with my partner."

One elf in particular is pretty snippy and Imelda gets into fights with him almost every time they see each other.

Oh, the elves know to keep your broom in pristine condition. It seems to make you happy that it never needs work, and they have an agreement with Imelda. A polished, clean, and ready broom for your nightly rides means another hour where she doesn't come in and bother them.

She is NOT above coming into the kitchens just to annoy the house elves. They unfortunately know this.

Imelda would never ever see the house elves as anything less than what they are, but she doesn't hesitate to use her advantages.

She taught a group of the younger elves to swear. You still haven't quite forgiven her for it.

Anne:

I love Anne sm :)

Your relationship with the elves...doesn't surprise her in the slightest.

She doesn't understand, as Elves aren't anything special in her eyes. They're sentient creatures that have feelings and thoughts, just like humans do. Why would she treat them differently than anyone else?

The elves are very sweet, but c'mon. She was going to teach you to garden Hemlock without poisoning yourself!

Honestly, she doesn't mind that you baby them, but she definitely has sat you down and explained they don't need babied.

Admires you and how you treat them! Just doesn't understand it, that's all.

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ventique18 · 1 year

Text

Dreamlike

Malleus x Yuu♀️ (nameless) short one shot.

⚠️ Suggestive warning!

It's a hot summer. For Lilia, summer always makes him think of very specific things: beaches, watermelons, swimsuits. It's the perfect time to enjoy one's youth. Now, he's not actually young anymore to be bothered by such frivolities, but he is bothered anyway. It's because his young master, who is quite literally young and should, indeed, enjoy his youth, is instead spending time cooped up in his musty old library and eating nuts instead of watermelons or mangoes or coconuts.

That simply won't do. So, with the power vested in him as the boy's guardian, he manages to forc--convince him to join a youth summer camp.

Malleus Draconia isn't particularly pleased. But since he's getting bored of the same tomes and scriptures anyway (the scheduled procurement of new books isn't until a few months more), he accepts and uses it as an excuse to loiter around the mountains by his lonesome.

Until one night he isn't quite alone. He isn't sure if it's good or bad fortune, but for the first time in his traditionalist life, he experiences something truly shocking.

He walks in on a woman bathing. In a river, by the forest. Completely, utterly, naked. He watches her a second too long, he's ashamed to confess.

"Like what you're seeing?"

That snaps him back to reality. Flustered, he blinks and his mouth babbles and his hands shift in many different combinations of poses that he dreads the woman might think he's performing an odd sort of avian mating dance.

"No," He speaks quickly, "What I mean is, please do not misunderstand and think that I find you foul or, unattractive. I don't. I do think you're rather fascinating. But it's not that I'm watching you deliberately, goodness no. Please do not be afraid as I do not plan on doing anything more than look. I mean,"

He sucks in a sharp breath. He's not making any rational sense, and he's sounding like a creep, "I am merely curious."

For all his attempts at sincerity, he's failing horribly as he just cannot take his eyes off her.

But she laughs, and with a shake of her head, asks him playfully, "Alright stranger, can you hand me my towel?"

He does, and he almost stumbles from how shaken he is from this whole ordeal.

Much to his surprise, the woman does not think badly of him at all. She, in fact, asks him to come back tomorrow night. Same place, same time. Now, he's no fool and knows better than to fall for such suspicious traps, so he ignores her request and walks through a different trail the following night.

... Until he circles back and finds his feet perching on a familiar stony path; soles drenched and socks dampened by the moonlit water.

There she is, swaying languidly in the clear river. He can fully see every inch and curve of her alluring body, yet she does not bother to hide herself nor reprimand him for his obviously captivated gaze. And whether by pure curiosity or something else entirely, he finds himself wading through the waters and towards her, when she smiles and gestures for him to come a bit closer.

Nothing much happens that night, except for her asking what kind of flower he likes. He answers and asks her in turn if she likes berries, and if she prefers strawberries or blueberries or any other berry. What's your favorite color? Do you take care of any pet? As odd as the situation is, he catches himself looking less and less at the soft slopes of her womanly body and more on the tugs of emotions at the corners of her mouth.

He finds himself visiting her again the following nights. They talk about anything and everything, and very soon he thinks she knows more about him than anyone else he's ever met in his life. He finds comfort in her, and he wonders if she feels the same. He becomes a bit confident that she does, when she asks to touch him a week later.

For the first time in his life, he undresses in front of another not to dress up, but to... simply undress. He cannot fathom what comes over him. But he lets her roam his body, from the tips of his fingers to the ridges of his peculiar horns. From the slope of his nose to the dip of his hip. She stops before she can cross the boundary of appropriate and inappropriate (though one can argue their circumstance is not a very usual one), but rather than taking a step back, she moves forward and asks him,

"Would you like to touch me too?"

He does not reply. He cannot think. And when the head refuses to function any more, it's the heart that takes over the body. He cannot hear anything but the loud thumping of his chest, but he nervously perseveres and places a palm upon her left breast.

Thump, thump, thump.

Is that the blood that runs through his veins, or is that her heart resonating with his, through the red that dusts her cheeks and the fingers that shakily reaches for his own?

Thump, thump, thump.

He doesn't know. He cannot think. Not when her smaller hands intertwine against his much larger ones. Not when her legs coil around his waist, arms wrapping tightly around his back and nails sinking deep across the skin above his spine. Not when his mind is occupied with the soft enamor of her thighs, his fingers squeezing her tightly as he pushes and pulls her against himself; sinful sweat washed away by the unsullied waters.

What a terrifying feeling. He's never felt so out of control. He knows not what he's doing, he has nothing planned out in his head. All he has is this strange electricity coursing through him-- a magnet that draws him to her. He doesn't want to let go. He cannot let go. Not even when a wave of ecstasy crashes through his entire body and threatens to knock him out cold. Not even when they settle on his lodgings and bury themselves in the warmth of sheets and blankets.

Even then, he buries himself in her warmth.

So when he wakes up to find her nowhere to be seen-- not in bed, not in his immediate surroundings-- he no longer feels out of control. He is not in control. The trip has come to an end, and so did his dreamlike encounter.

Only the wanton marks left on his skin are proof that it was, in fact, not a dream.

---

"Malleus, cheer up a bit, why don't you? You wouldn't want to scare your... let me check my notes... Ah yes, your 57th potential wife away, no?"

"And it's the 50th time I am telling you this: no one would ever want to waste an hour with me. Much less a lifetime. You would think the first seven were proof enough."

"Don't you say that! You're a handsome young man, if you would just learn to smile--"

"Enough, Lilia. This is the last time. If this still doesn't work out, I would rather let my bloodline die with me than suffer through any more humiliation."

*click* *creak*

"Hi there, stranger."

"..."

"Like what you're seeing?"

"... You have a lot of nerve, standing me up like that. And suddenly you show up-- out of nowhere-- with a cheeky little smile? This audacity calls for a fitting punishment, don't you think?"

"Ohh, scary. I like it. Lay it on me. Or would you prefer it in me?"

"Witch. You deserve a life sentence. Lilia, take out the marriage papers."

💖💖💖💖

Notes: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE PARAGRAPH LMAOOO! I just wanted to share that I like cheesy cliche stories with a bit of sensual flavor and was just gonna share a rough plot. Somehow it turned into a short fanfic HAHAHA

I really really like the thought of Malleus catching Yuu bathing and doesn't really do anything to hide his interest. He's an honest man. It's a staple in any of the MalleYuu AUs in my brain.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst fanfic

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lauraneedstochill · 2 years

Text

The Greens headcanons (modern!au)

I was inspired by @phiasaban post. the second I saw these photos I had an idea for the modern au and just wrote it all down in 10 minutes (this has nothing to do with the show! it’s just me looking at the photos, mind you):

Alicent is a single mom. loves to cook (def cooks when she’s nervous or upset), has a record collection, loves to dance when she’s tipsy. can be a strict parent when she’s pissed (or really tired) but overall is a mama bear (to the point of getting into arguments with teachers — “yeah, I think I know what’s best for my kids”). she’s an angry driver, keeps her car super clean. dresses casually (plaid shirts and jeans), but whenever she puts on a dress she looks so smoking hot it makes every man turn around after her. tons of them flirt with her but she mostly looks uninterested. deep inside is afraid to get her heart broken again. makes friends with her neighbor Criston (he let her borrow flour a few times). he is totally in love with Alicent and everyone sees it but her. he’s okay with her taking all the time she needs.

Aegon is a fuckboy but a very apologetic one. has no cruel intentions, he just “loves women so much, he can’t help himself”. either writes songs or poetry. has the weirdest captions on instagram. drinks wine 24/7 but manages to look sober when needed. ends up falling in love with one of his closest friends who’s been tolerating him for years, helping him sober up, making him breakfasts, giving cruel reviews of his sappy poems. one day she just casually picks him up in her car, they’re driving in comfortable silence, she asks him how his day went — and it suddenly strikes him that she’s the one. he’ll probably tell her right away (“I think I’m in love with you” — and she sharply presses the brakes). but it will take a couple of weeks for him to fully sober up, convince her to go on a date with him and then to give him a chance. will plant kisses all over her face whenever she’s upset. he loves movie dates, but his sense of humor is questionable.

Aemond is into sports (pick whatever you like, but he doesn’t look like a team player to me lol). very competitive, self-disciplined, doesn’t talk much. girls swoon over him and he ignores them completely. secretly is a nerd, reads a lot (and pretty much anything). falls in love with a girl who challenges him but will also stand by his side in every situation imaginable even if he’s wrong (she won’t shy away from telling him the truth when it’s just the two of them, though). he’s incredibly protective yet very gentle. it’s all about forehead kisses, leaving sweet notes for her, buying flowers for no reason. not a fan of PDA’s but will hold her hand every chance he gets. remembers every single anniversary. they’ll probably adopt a dog. he gives the best hugs and loves when she plays with his hair. they can talk about their favorite books for hours and she loves being the only one who gets to see that side of him.

Helaena is into astrology and tarot cards. has a cat (or three) and probably a little pet snake. talks to animals (I also think she’ll be vegan but don’t quote me on that). buys a lot of plants (and gives them names), maybe in attempt to compensate for her smoking. some may say she has a resting bitch face, but those ppl clearly never saw her smile, 'cause it lights up her face and she looks absolutely adorable. she’s the first one to steal their mother’s car (Alicent is not surprised and just texts her “no smoking in the car!”). annoyed with her brothers most of the time but god forbid someone dares to hurt them. carries a pocketknife (it looks very pretty, decorated with crystals and stuff), wears long t-shirts. adventurous but it takes time for her to trust people. will fall in love with someone who’s kind (and maybe introverted?). they’ll get matching tattoos (smth very small and simple), go on road trips and music festivals. yes, I can totally imagine her being queer.

➡ next: modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au part 1 — “All yours” part 2 — First time for everything 💌 my masterlist

#house of the dragon #my stuff #house of the dragon modern au #modern hotd au #hotd modern au #hotd #hotd fics #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon fanfiction #alicent hightower imagine #helaena targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagine

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artytaeh · 3 months

Text

for the dearest headcanon writers .ᐟ

fear not, in case you're bored, here's some

suggestions of headcanons you could write

about! ( and that i personally would love to read

about, but shh. )

𐀔 with a s/o that frequently hides behind them and peaks over their shoulder. could be out of shyness or because she's surrounded by people she's hesitant about.

𐀔 type of date they like the most. maybe a headcanon about where they would like to go on a date, where they would have fun, if they'd think too much about it, for how long the date would go on, if they take them home, etc.

𐀔 when travelling with s/o. are they the ones who plan everything? or do they go with an unplanned schedule? which transport they'd like the most, and to go where? stuff about hotels and shopping would be fun to talk about too.

𐀔 with a s/o that is a perfeccionist about their hobbies. could be something about painting, playing any instrument, dancing, writing, etc. could be about them both being their #0 stans but also helping s/o cope with not being satisfied with the 'product' (painting, choreography, etc!) of their hobby.

𐀔 with a s/o who's avoidant with problems. here you could go 2 ways: a) s/o hates conflict so the relationship becomes a little bitter for their avoidance of 'fighting' or trying to solve the problem; or b) s/o that runs away from her problems. she's too scared to go out to do something? she doesn't go. so the partner helps the s/o dealing with this.

𐀔 when they use glasses, and s/o thinks it's attractive. hear me out; a character who usually doesn't wear glasses, only on rare occasions (to read, for example!) and s/o simps over it.

𐀔 with a s/o that has a style totally opposite of them. for example, if the character uses darker colors = s/o wears lighter colors. how would they react? do they think it's a funny thing?

𐀔 moving together with their s/o. who took the initiative to suggest them moving together? unpacking, their first night sleeping on their bedroom, settling rules / sharing tasks...

𐀔 when the group asks reader who would be the best partner out of them, and reader answers their name. it could be the reader's opinion about who would be the best partner, or who matches reader's ideal type the most. it would be funny to see the character's reaction, and if they would act on it or not.

𐀔 and the petnames they'd used with their s/o. do they still call s/o by their name? which kind of petnames are they fond of? maybe include ones that they'd like to be called as, too!

𐀔 with a reader whose love language is physical touch, and ask character to hold their hand / for a hug. this would be before reader is their s/o, this also being the first time that reader asks to be comforted or held by them as well.

𐀔 with a reader that constantly has nightmares, and is afraid to be alone afterwards. how would they react when reader calls for them? what would they do to sooth / help reader to avoid nightmares?

𐀔 when they plan a date / surprise for reader, but they didn't know so on that day, they hang out with other people.

𐀔 with a reader who has arachnophobia. as someone who has this, i promise you that this is awful and that i need someone who acts like my knight in shining armor about this.

𐀔 with a reader who has claustrophobia and they end up stuck inside a small room. for my claustrophobic moots. </3

𐀔 with a reader who was hit with an ability / spell that makes her eyes change color according to their feelings. reader is angry? red eyes. reader is sad? blue eyes. reader is flustered and shy? pink eyes. reader can't lie about their emotions now, would the character take advantage of this?

𐀔 with a reader who secretly has a nerdy side, and could talk about their favorite thing (animal, anime, series, book, game, etc) for hours.

𐀔 with a reader who is a picky eater. would they help reader with this, or would they complain about it?

this is all i could think of right now,

but if i get more ideas, i'll post another

one of these in hopes that some

writer will post headcanons about

these. 🎀

#anime #manga #obey me x reader #anime x reader #headcanons #ideas for headcanons #ideas for oneshots #oneshot ideas #plot ideas #genshin x reader #headcanons ideas #fanfiction #fanfic ideas

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bestanimatedmovie · 1 year

Text

Tumblr's favorite animated movie!

Vote in the other polls! What fans say:

The Book of Life:

It's a day of the dead movie that came out a few years before Coco and crafts a simple yet elegant story about God, love, adventure and facing your family's scorn for the right to be yourself. The protagonist Manolo is by the creator's own admission a sort of self portrait, and Manolo going against his father's dreams of him becoming a bullfighter while Manolo wants to go into music are reflective of the creator's own tension with his father over being an artist. It's a very Mexican film in that Jorge Gutierrez, the director, specifically informed his creative team to not do one of those 'touristy research trips' and to instead ask him or the other Mexican staff members about cultural things. Also it's so fucking beautiful like look at it. There's this part where the Manolo is facing his greatest fear, the epitome of his family legacy staring him down, and for a moment nearly gives in to the pressures of his family name but chooses mercy instead of violence and saves the bull he was pressured to kill. Apologizing to it for all the pain his ancestors put its kind through for the sake of their bloody sport and in his mercy wins a chance at coming back to life.

It's an amazing film, from the beautiful artwork and animation, to the casting, to the overall plot. My favorite scene is probably when La Muerte yells "You misbegotten son of a leprous donkey!"

The Aristocats:

Jazz musician cats.

Great art/animation, great characters, great music, a great story. The kittens! Roquefort the mouse! The romance between Duchess and Thomas O'Malley. She -- an elegant purebred cat -- doesn't care that he's a scruffy stray. He -- after being briefly taken aback -- doesn't care that she already has three kittens who need looking after. The butler Edgar is one of the scariest kinds of villains, because no one knew he was one at first, and even when the cats knew it, he still had the trust of his mistress. Truly someone who deserved to be shipped off in a crate to Timbuktu. And the cats, man, O'Malley's jazz-loving friends. EVERYBODY *dances* EVERYBODY *blows trombone* EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE A CAT! *Goes to town on the piano*

#The Book of Life #The Aristocats #best animated movie #round 1 #tournament poll #tumblr's favorite

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