#I also hope you dont mind that little glance they gave!

[darksonofsparda]

Even though Vergil still felt a bit tired, he did feel a noticeable difference after catching at least, some sleep even if it wasn't a lot of hours, or at least not the substantial amount he needed to fully feel rejuvenated and energized, at the end of the day, he was able to rest just enough to be able to function properly, and that was all that mattered. The half-devil was glad that Lady had woken him up just like he requested, he honestly didn't know if she would honor what she said, so when she did he was grateful, it earned her a lot more respect from the elder son of Sparda.

Despite his protests before, he was actually feeling a little grateful for getting rest. Every night was a chore just to fall asleep, a heavy heart and a wandering mind usually meant he was in for about four, maybe five hours of sleep at max, most nights were very unkind to Vergil unless he was tired to the point of exhaustion -- which had unfortunately happened a few times in the past, even a recently, but well before he ran into Lady in what was left of the United Kingdom. Perhaps with Lady accompanying him on this next stretch of missions, he might be able to try and catch up on sleep, although it also depended on if his restless mind would let him.

As the half-devil and devil huntress pass each other by near the fireplace and its still burning embers, blue eyes meet her double-colored hues for a second as they make a small exchange of words as they switch out, Vergil takes his turn to watch while Lady took her turn for sleep.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "Considering it was quiet for you, it probably won't change for me. Nonetheless, I will if it's needed."

He says with a nod, locking eyes with her, they hold each others gaze as she walks away before she disappears behind the tent and Vergil moves to take a seat down by the campfire, beginning to fumble in his bag and pull out a camping tea kettle, puts some water in it and puts it over the fire, the grill already in place so he just needs to set it down and wait.

To pass the time by, Vergil pulls out his poetry book and began to read to himself in his head, all the while listening until he hears the kettle start to boil and eventually makes himself a cup of tea, three sugars, and milk, stirring with a stir straw before tossing it aside away from their campsite, picking up his tea inside a travel thermos for a long sip before setting it down beside him after screwing on the cap. There was something about the way Lady had looked at him before she went to sleep, like she had realized something about him, he wondered what it meant. Another unanswered question to add to his mind, although it was more of a lingering curiosity than anything else for the moment.

Hours pass without incident, and Vergil has been reading the entire time, had any demons been around, his natural demonic ability to sense power would have let him know danger was around, so just as he expected, it was been a quiet watch for him, the only closest thing to action he'd seen was watching a deer run by, wildlife roamed around if they weren't slain by demons since most had been. Not long after, the sun begins to rise, as dusk begins to die out as the starts disappear and the sky turns from darkness to a bright blue. It's not too long after the half-devil finally hears the sound of shifting and a yawn comes from the tent causing him to side glance over in silence.

They may not have come to a full understanding, but at least Vergil was getting a few hours of rest in. Lady would consider that a win, no matter how small. But more importantly, that meant she didn't have to worry as much about Vergil keeling over in exhaustion at a critical moment.

The next few hours were uneventful. Not even a sniff of a demon. But she kept vigilant watch anyway, all the while thinking about what Vergil had said.

Feeling guilty for the demon tree made sense. Hell, Lady still felt guilt for killing one person who the world was better off without. She couldn't imagine having millions of humans' deaths on her ledger. In retrospect, maybe it wasn't the Vergil didn't want to sleep but that he couldn't with that weighing on his conscious.

But that meant he did have a conscious. Or, had developed one at the very least. That's more than could be said for most people behind calamities like this. But Lady was no law expert. She preferred not to play judge about this matter. She was a Devil Hunter, not an ethicist.

Before she knows it, her watch is over. As promised, she did wake him when it was his turn. He still sounded tired, but at least a bit less so. Small victories.

"Thanks," she says as he tags her out. "Be careful. Wake me if you need anything."

As much as she'd like to take watch the whole night so Vergil could catch up, Lady was still human--and devil hunting was exhausting so as soon as she settled down in the tent sleep came to her easily.

[mariasont]

im obsessed with reid’s hands. He’s got gorgeous long fingers its just🫶🏻😩. Id like to request a fic/blurbs whichever you prefer, revolves around that.. maybe he knows the reader loves his hands (especially when he cradles her face-neck and hair pulling).. nothing too spicy tho.. if you dont mind. Love your fics sm🥹

Where Hands Lead - S.R

a/n: i am also a victim to being desperately obsessed with spencer's hands! guilty af! and thank u so much babes i appreicate the love and the request <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: established relationship, hand kink, spencer being a smug little shit, domestic fluff, teasing galore, just two cuties being ridiculously in love!

wc: 1.6k

Spencer Reid's hands were a marvel. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you noticed them--maybe it was the day you saw him fiddling with a pen during a team meeting, his fingers deftly spinning it like he'd been born doing it. Or maybe it was the time he'd held out a hand to help you up after you got knocked on your ass after rough case, his long fingers wrapping around yours, pulling you to his feet. Whatever the moment, the realization hit you like a freight train: Spencer's hands were distracting. 

Of course, you never said it out loud. Not at first. How do you casually tell your boyfriend that his hands are your newest fixation? You'd settled for sneaky glances, admiring the way his fingers moved over the keys of his computer or absentmindedly tapped against his thigh when he was lost in thought. 

You thought you were being subtle.

But Spencer was sharper than you gave him credit for... and you gave him a lot of credit.

It started with small things. The way he'd catch you staring and tilt his head slightly, curiosity painting his features. Or how his lips would quirk into the barest smile when he'd reach for something near you and your gaze lingered a second too long. He'd never said anything, but you had the nagging suspicion he was onto you.

Then came the day he decided to test his theory.

It had been a rare quiet evening at his apartment. The team's latest case had wrapped up earlier than expected, leaving you both with an unexpectedly free night. Spencer, ever the perfectionist, had insisted on cooking dinner. You'd agreed easily, not-so-secretly thrilled at the prospect of spending uninterrupted tie with him. He'd shooed you out of the kitchen when you tried to help, insisting that you relax while he handled everything.

You were setting the table when it started. Spencer reached over to hand you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours. You glanced at him quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed the way your breath caught.

He had.

Spencer's expression didn't give away much--just the faintest quirk of his lips as he turned back to the counter. He began chopping vegetables, his fingers expertly curling and flexing around the knife. The movement was smooth, precise, almost hypnotic, and before you knew it, your eyes were drawn to them again.

"Everything okay over there?" he asked casually, not looking up. His voice was innocent enough, sure, but there was a certain lilt to it that made your cheeks heat.

"Fine," you replied, probably too quickly, forcing your attention back to the table. You busied yourself with arranging the plates, trying to will away the warmth spreading through you. 

Spencer, however, wasn't finished with whatever game he seemed to be playing. As you moved past him to grab utensils, he shifted just enough for his hand to brush against the small of your back. The touch was so light it could have been accidental, but it lingered just a fraction too long to be dismissed entirely. The warmth of it sparked along your spine, making your pulse leap in a way you couldn't quite explain.

What was wrong with you today? He was your boyfriend, for crying out loud. Casual touches like this were normal--expected, even. And yet, every brush of his fingers seemed to unravel you more. You cast a quick glance up at him, trying to gauge if he'd noticed your reaction, but Spencer simply smiled, his expression innocent, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

You clenched the utensils in your hand, suddenly desperate to shake off this fixation before Spencer figured out what was going on. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were completely crazy--obsessed with something as specific as his hands. Surely, that wasn't normal. 

 By the time you finally sat down to eat, your nerves were fully frayed. Flustered didn't even begin to cover it. Spencer, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He moved with his usually calm efficiency, placing food on the table with a soft smile. As he handed you a serving spoon, his fingers brushed against yours once again--warm, gentle, and far too distracting. You lingered a second longer than necessary, and while he didn't say a word, the subtle upward twitch of his lips suggested he notice.

Determined to pull yourself together, you focused on your plate. Or at least, you tried. Every movement Spencer made seemed designed to draw your attention. The way his long fingers curled around his fork, deliberate and precise, made your breath hitch. His index finger tapped lightly against the side of his glass as he considered something. Even the simple act of wiping his mouth with his napkin--slow, measured, maddeningly deliberate--seemed orchestrated to unravel you.

When dinner ended, you were quick to rise, eager to clear the table and escape the tight coil of your own thoughts. But Spencer was quicker. Before you could take a single step, his hand caught your wrist, fingers curling around you with just enough pressure to stop you in your tracks.

"I'll take care of it," he said, thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist before letting go.

Normally, you would argue. He'd cooker dinner, after all--it was only fair that you clean up. But today left you rooted to the spot. You sank back into your chair, wordless, your gaze following him as he moved around the kitchen.

Spencer rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the lean muscle of his forearms, and your eyes betrayed you once again, drawn back to his hands. The way they worked was mesmerizing--graceful and efficient as he dried plates, stacked dishes, and wiped down the counters with practiced ease. 

Spencer must have felt your gaze because he glanced over his shoulder, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. He didn't rush, taking his time as he finished tidying up. When he was done, he dried his hands on a dish towel, then set it aside before making his way back to you. His hands were empty now, but no less captivating.

Stopping in front of your chair, Spencer lowered himself to one knee, his eyes meeting yours. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Heat swelled to your face, mind scrambling for something--anything--coherent to say. "I--what?"

Spencer chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're not as subtle as you think."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped you.

"Next time," he continued, his thumb moving to brush against your cheek, his touch featherlight, "just tell me. I'd hate for you to sit there suffering in silence."

"I... don't know what you mean."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, is that right?"

You nodded quickly.

"So you wouldn't mind if I did this?" he murmured, reaching out to cup your cheeks with the utmost care.

The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, his thumb brushing slow, delicate arcs along your cheekbones. His fingers, long and steady, curled around the sides of your face, glueing you in place. Your breath hitched, the air between you thickening as your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. Words failed you, leaving only the rapid thrum of your heart.

"Or this?" he added, voice softer now, almost a whisper. His fingers slid upward, tangling in your hair with a sort of practiced ease that sent sparks racing along your legs. He tugged lightly, just enough to tilt your head and pull a soft, involuntary gasp from your lips. The gentle pressure was intoxicating, and you bit down on your bottom lip, completely undone.

"Spencer..." you managed, though it barely passed a whisper. His name trembled on your lips, a plea and a confession all at once.

"Or this?" he continued, one hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. His fingers curled just slightly. Your pulse quickened, a fluttering sound that betrayed just how completely he had you in his grasp. Spencer leaned in closer, expression smug, lips moving into a smile that left you breathless. 

"And what about this?" he added, voice dropped to a hushed murmur as his hand moved to tilt your chin upward. Before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow, purposeful, and impossible to do anything but melt into. His hands moved back to cradle your face, fingers brushing against your jaw and the sensitive curve of your neck, their touch igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

When he finally pulled away, you felt like all the air had been vacuumed from your lungs, cheeks flushed and heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could here it.

"Yeah, um," you stammered, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you struggled to regain your footing, "I don't think I mind... you could, uh, do it again if you wanted to."

Spencer's lips quirked into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, is that so?"

He leaned in once more, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, unhurried, as if he were savoring every second. 

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, savoring the moment.

When he pulled back, hands still cradling your face, he chuckled softly. "You know lucky for you, if my hands are your favorite thing about me, I've got two of them and all the time in the world."

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @c-losur3 @theylovemelody @alahnizamolo @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @spiderladyleah @estragos @khxna @spencerssoup @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll

join my taglist here!

[hoe4hotchner]

hey! i love your stuff :)! was wondering if you could maybe do a short fic with hotch where he's interrogating the reader (who is a suspect, but is actually innocent), and the reader politely informs hotch that they're about to faint (they have a fainting condition, like POTS or something). hotch doesn't panic bc he's, well, hotch, but he calls for medical help. meanwhile, reader is just casually lying down on the cold floor of the cell and being really chill waiting to faint, even making conversation. anyway, hotch finds out that the police officers who had arrested the reader had denied them their medicine, and he rips them a new one.

OBVIOUSLY DONT WRITE IT IF YOU DONT WANT TO, I THINK YOU'RE LOVELY AND I DONT WANT TO PRESSURE YOu

have a nice day!

Unexpected Interrogation | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: Hurt/comfort?, medical condition (POTS), mistreatment by law enforcement, fainting, medication.

A/N: I'm trying a new layout for when I answer requests, I don't know if I'll commit to it, but I like it for now.

Also I don't know anything about POTS or other fainting conditions, so I hope I did it justice - feedback is appriciated.

Hotch sat across from you, his expression stern and unyielding as he leaned forward in his chair, the dim lighting of the room casting sharp shadows on his face. To any observer, you would seem calm - your hands folded neatly in your lap and eyes focused - but inside, you were already feeling the telltale signs. The tightness in your chest, the lightheadedness creeping in. You’d been here for hours, and now, without your medicine, it was simply a matter of time before you would faint.

"You've been uncooperative since the moment we brought you in," Hotch said, his voice level but carrying the weight of suspicion as he couldn't quite figure out if you were guilty or not. "Tell me why you were at the scene."

You took a slow breath, trying to center yourself. "Agent Hotchner," you said politely, your voice a little too soft for the intensity of the moment. "I understand why I'm here, and I will tell you everything you want to know, but I think I should let you know… I'm about to faint."

He blinked, his gaze sharpening but not a trace of panic crossing his face. If anything, his brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and concern settling in his expression. "You're about to faint?"

"Yeah," you nodded, shifting slightly in your seat, trying to ignore the swimming sensation behind your eyes. "I have a fainting condition - it's called POTS. Normally, I’d take medicine, but..." You gave a tired shrug. "The officers who arrested me didn’t let me have it."

The tension in the room shifted. Hotch leaned back slightly, the gears in his mind already turning. He wasn’t a man to panic, even in strange situations. He pressed a button on the desk to signal for help, keeping his eyes on you. "I’ll get a medic in here."

You offered him a small smile. "Thanks, but it’s cool. Happens all the time. I’ll just… lie down." Without waiting for a response, you eased yourself off the chair - thankful that you weren't cuffed to the table - and laid flat on the cold tiled floor, your head resting on your arms as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The coolness of the floor helped somewhat, but your vision was already narrowing at the edges.

Hotch stood, watching you for a moment before kneeling next to you, his tone softened slightly. "How long have you been without your medication?"

You glanced at him from your place on the floor, blinking slowly. "Since they arrested me… hours ago? Honestly, it could be worse. But you know, fainting isn’t great for clearing one’s name." You chuckled lightly, trying to make the best of the situation, though it quickly turned into a weary sigh. "I’m innocent, by the way."

He didn't respond to that directly, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something acknowledging the injustice of your situation. "How often does this happen?"

"Often enough that I’m pretty used to it," you said casually, your breath slowing as the dizziness increased. "But hey... it gives me an excuse to lie down on the job, right?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Hotch’s mouth - just for a moment - but then his professional mask slipped back into place. "Don’t talk. Just focus on staying calm."

You hummed in agreement, though your vision was blurring fast. "I’ll be out soon, but when I wake up, I’d love to continue this conversation. I mean, I know I’m innocent, but it would be great to convince you of that too."

He gave a short nod. "We’ll get to that. First, let’s get you taken care of."

Moments later, the medics arrived, rushing into the room with a stretcher and medical kit. But Hotch didn’t leave your side, ensuring they knew about your condition, making sure they were doing everything right. As they checked your vitals and prepared to move you, you started to fade, your words becoming slow and drowsy. "Thanks, agent… you’re not as intimidating as I thought you’d be."

The medic smiled at that, while Hotch’s lips pressed into a thin line, the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes. But once you were being taken care of, Hotch’s focus shifted back to the situation that had led to this. The officers who had arrested you. The ones who had denied you your medication.

Minutes later, Hotch found the officers outside the room, his demeanor stone cold. “Which one of you denied the suspect their medication?”

One of the officers, a tall man with a smug expression, stepped forward. “We didn’t think it was relevant. They didn’t say it was urgent.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a low tone. “Didn’t think it was relevant? You’re lucky they’re stable, or you’d be facing a lawsuit at the very least.” He took a step closer, towering over the man. “You do not withhold medical treatment from anyone in custody. I don’t care if they’re a suspect, a witness, or guilty. Do you understand?”

The officer faltered, clearly not expecting the sharp reprimand. “Y-yes, sir.”

“I’ll be filing a report about this. You’ve jeopardized a life today. If I ever hear of anything of the sort again, you’ll be out of a job.” Hotch didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and heading back toward the interrogation room. There were few things that set him off more than mistreatment, especially under his watch.

He returned just as the medics were finishing up. You were still unconscious, but stable. Hotch stood by the door for a moment, watching as they prepared to transport you, his expression unreadable.

Innocent or not, he was going to make sure you were treated right.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

@velarisnightsky444 @fasoaurore @anainkandpaper @urfunnyvalentin3 @gabbiskylar01

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

@olives-main @hijabi-desi-bookworm @dnfhascorruptedme

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings @dnfhascorruptedme @fuckingsimp4azriel

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139 @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @okaytrashpanda

@celestialgilb @donnadiddadog

[b14augrana]

Scrubber

Your first time versing Lyon was the match of your dreams

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 3 masterlist

Warnings: lots of happiness and not proofread as per usual … 😁

A/N: i forgot to mention that mapi's knee is 100% functioning and not crippled in this series!!!! i’ve decided to turn it into a series because i love our hay day obsessed reader so much.

also, reader takes alexia’s place in scoring a golazo because our wonderkid needs her time to shine and what better time to shine than in a uwcl final 🪄🪄 (peep my reference in the fic to the gif im so smart)

we need a nickname for little miss wonderkid so i dont constantly refer to her as reader so plz suggest some in my asks 🥹

You were way too nervous for the final to function. You regretted eating breakfast that morning because it felt like you were about to throw it all up.

Honestly, you were even nervous to look at the players. You stood timidly between Lucy and Irene in the line, secretly hoping you never had to leave the tunnel. You did not want the likes of Ada Hegerberg charging towards little 16-year-old you.

You glanced down at the ‘NV15’ written on your wrist in black. That forever-present question of 'What would Vidić do?' loomed in your mind.

He wouldn’t be worrying about anyone on the opposition. He’d just be worried about breaking the Brexit tackle world record and keeping everyone in white as far away from the goal as possible.

The officials at the end of the tunnel signalled to both teams, which meant it was time. As you emerged out of the tunnel, walking out to the sound of a stadium full of culers, you didn’t feel scared. The cheers from all around the stadium deafened you, but also made you feel an insane amount of pride.

As you stood beside your teammates, the Barcelona anthem blasted on the speakers and the crowd became a choir as they sung the anthem loud and proud. Your attention was in the stands, looking at all the people that had come to watch. You almost teared up when you spotted a little girl and her older brother wearing a jersey with your name on it. Your name. Just having a mascot blew you away, so seeing people you probably weren’t much older than, wearing jerseys with your name on the back, was a crazy concept.

It made you think about the future. It made you hope that one day, you’d grow up to be some little girl’s idol the way Vidić is yours.

“Get ready to shake hands, (Y/N),” Irene reminded you, noticing that you looked a bit spaced out. You brought yourself back to the present and nodded, sticking your hand out to shake the long line of Lyon hands.

When Alexia asked you to bend down and hold the match day pennant, it almost felt like blasphemy. Your mouth was slightly agape as she thrusted it into your hand. “But why me?”

“My knee is no good, it’s better if I stand,” she explained.

“But why m–”

“Just hold it, nena!” Alexia laughed, getting back in the line. You crouched down, holding the pennant in one hand and bracing the ground with the other as you smiled gingerly for the camera.

As soon as the photographer lowered his camera, you sprung to your feet and gave the pennant back to Alexia. “There you go, capi!” you said happily, motioning to Renard who was approaching with their own pennant to exchange. Alexia laughed and patted you on the back, mumbling a quick ‘gracías’ before turning away.

You walked over to the bench and shrugged your jacket off, folding it neatly for one of the team management to take to the locker room later on. With one last meaningful glance at your wrist, you ran onto the field to take your position. Irene was with you in the center and Lucy covered the right while Ona took care of the left. Jona had told you to be prepared for Mapi to come on, so you kept that in mind too.

As soon as the whistle was blown, you were relieved to see that Aitana, Mariona, Caro and Salma had already gotten things under control. That gave you time to scope out the Lyon front three and think about how to handle them.

You thought about what Lucy said. ‘Don’t get hurt trying to do extreme tackles.’

At the end of the day, it all came down to instinct. When Dumornay started running at you with the ball, her feet moving too quick for you to focus on, you knew what you were going to do next had to be purely instinctual. This wasn’t the match for calculated tackles.

It was a fearless tackle. It wasn’t even much of a tackle, actually; you had just gotten to the ground right in her path and made contact with the ball first before she even touched you. When she did touch you, the top of her boot got caught on your abdomen, knocking her over. It was the consequence of her own speed and momentum.

With the ball at your feet, you did what you always did best — kick it as hard as you could and hope it goes well. You must’ve hoped extremely hard or hoped to the right deity, because the ball landed right at Aitana’s feet. Not an inch in front.

With one touch, she had beaten her marker. When Aitana got the ball, it was almost always a goal, and this time was no different; before you could even register that your ball had been kept in play, let alone found a player of your own, it had beaten Endler’s desperate hands and hit the back of the net. The stadium has the loudest atmosphere you’ve ever experienced after Aitana’s goal.

She came running to you, her arms outstretched. You threw yourself into her, hugging her tightly. The rest of the team came shortly after, suffocating you two in a big team hug. You heard some muffled voices praising you and Aitana, but you were too stunned by how quickly it all happened to even register their words. There were many pats on your back and side hugs before the game reset and you were back to your centerback position, kissing the writing on your wrist.

“Aparejo increíble (Y/N), and the pass! Magnífico!” Irene said, pulling you close and ruffling your hair (to which you huffed and slicked it back down) before running back to her position.

You didn’t actually intend to make that pass, so was it that special? Aitana did score from it, but she just has magical feet.

The match had flown by, both teams only separated by one goal at the 90th minute. Lyon were desperate for a goal. Barcelona were desperate for another. Many changes had been made, including Mapi and Pina coming on.

You watched as Diani came down the left wing and somehow managed to beat Lucy and Mapi, which meant you were going to have to try tidy up at the back and not let Diani get to Cata, the last hope.

At first, you just jockeyed. You held her off and tried to delay her, which worked; her stepovers were useless and she couldn’t get past you by tapping and running… but then she did.

She took a touch just wide of you, giving herself heaps of space to dribble up to goal if she was quick enough to retrieve the ball. The big underlying issue was, your jockeying had led you two up to the box. You could either get a card and risk her scoring from a penalty or worse — not do anything and let her put it in. You would rather break your Hay Day login streak than let that happen.

As she lurched forwards to get another touch on the ball, it was like everything was in slow motion. Time slowed down as you extended your leg and thrusted your entire body forwards, cushioning your fall by sliding on your arm across the damp grass and towards the ball. You closed your eyes as she got closer to your face, hoping that if you didn’t see it happen, the collision wouldn’t hurt as much. If this tackle went wrong, it would be over for you, for Barça.

Diani’s opening had been a gift from God himself, so you prepared yourself to see her celebrating happily, the ball rolling into the net when you opened your eyes, but when you finally did open them, the ball wasn’t in the net. Diani wasn’t celebrating.

She was lying on her chest, scrambling to get to her feet. The ball was out, discarded somewhere near the barriers as a ball boy passed a new one to Lucy to throw in. Cheers had rung through the stadium upon your last-ditch tackle, but you had been too distracted to pay attention to them. You had been too focused on trying to execute the perfect tackle that would either make or break the game.

The only thing you guys needed was another goal to really seal the deal. Lyon were getting dangerously close, you needed a goal.

When Lucy had played the ball in, you moved a bit further up the field, watching the play. You noticed Caro receiving the ball, and then you noticed the absence in the middle of the box. You scanned for Aitana or Pina or anybody, but they were all marked by figures like Renard and Carpenter or in other words, brick walls that were not letting them in any time soon.

It was all, pure, instinct. You ran– no, sprinted up the field, flailing your hands in the air. “Caro, Caro!” you screamed, motioning to the middle of the box, begging for a cross.

The cross she delivered from the right wing was set to land just in front of you. You couldn’t reach it for a volley and you sure as hell couldn’t bicycle kick it in. It was travelling fast and getting nearer by the second, but that was the advantage.

Without a second thought, you jumped up. Your body was basically horizontal in the air as you flew forwards, forehead connecting with the ball. It was a shame you couldn’t watch it shoot past Endler, burying itself right in the bottom left corner. You flew into the net as well, and the only way you realised you had scored was when you sat up and looked to your side to see the ball. That’s also the only way you realised you were in the goal.

You had never stood up faster or yelled louder. You zipped past Endler and ran down the field towards the nearest camera. Your first goal of your career couldn’t have been more perfect, so you needed a celebration to match.

Aitana appeared by your side, and as you two ran side-by-side, you pointed to the people in the stands. It was a simple but meaningful celebration; it was the same celebration Vidić had once done, and you remembered it vividly. In fact, it was one of your favourite moments.

You ran to the corner flag where the rest of your team were, and you all fell into another affectionate huddle. Lucy squeezed your side. “You’re in the wrong sport, I think you’d do well as a professional diver!” she jeered, having to yell her words over the noise. You grinned at her and hugged the woman tightly right before being instructed to reset.

The ball had barely started moving again before the referee blew the final whistle. Everyone from the sidelines jumped from their seats and ran onto the field, and the people on the field ram towards your goal. Cata booted the ball into the air and jumped on top of the big hug, and then Pina followed. There was singing and dancing and flags being thrown and tears and hugs for days.

It was happy moment upon happy moment for everyone as it all sunk in — you had finally, finally beat Olympique Lyonnais in a Champions League final for the first time in your history. You had helped beat Lyon and make history with this team, and you had won your first ever Champions League and quadruple, but you had to give credit where it was due.

You knew if you never had a role model like Nemanja Vidić, nothing would’ve happened the way it did for you against Lyon.

Being a 16-year-old girl with such a fiery passion to defend and hold it down at the back wasn’t easy. There wasn’t many defenders that played for the badge the way Vidić did. The reason you loved him so much was because he exerted such an immense sense of pride and dedication to his club, and that was the type of defender you wanted to be.

That was the type of defender you had been today.

You couldn’t believe Keira and Patri when they ran up to you saying that the officials wanted to see you so you could receive the Player of the Match award once again. Your jaw was dropped and you went red as they basically dragged you away from the locker rooms and towards the officials. Your cheeks were still red from embarrassment as you took the photo.

You learned that you couldn’t just slink away into the locker rooms after such a big match, so you spent a solid 10 minutes talking to fans all around the stadium. It was a bit awkward for you at first because most of them were either as old as Alexia or literally your age, but you figured you’d have to get used to it.

The best part about the whole day was, when you eventually got back to the locker room and picked your phone up, you had reached level 300 on Hay Day.

As if one major achievement wasn’t enough.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HI SWEETIE I HAVE A REQUEST!! i hope you dont mind!

so, bucky and f!reader, maybe married and they have a baby together. after that time of recovery reader is a bit shy of her own body cause it's been a while since they did it and she isnt back at her pre-pregnancy weight and bucky is absolutely like mind blown by her beauty? like, nearly drooling? and please can you add body worship on this?

i seriously hope it's okay for you, but if it's not please ignore this!

HII BBY!! I love love love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

DEFLECTION.

​bucky barnes x fem!reader (married & parents) — comfort

word count. 1031

disclaimer. the hair colour and type has no significance to the writing. the gif just suits the theme of this fic. also please read the ask carefully

Only a few short months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby girl - a daughter you shared with your husband, Bucky. Very quickly she became the sole focus of your attention, neither of you having much time to do anything like you used to. 

Consequently, your sex life had taken a hit, and not because of the significant decrease in quality time, but instead something far more complex.

So far, motherhood has been a slight struggle to adjust to - the differences in your life between then and now are almost stark. You've been trying to adapt to all the changes that come with it, the main being your new body. You've been feeling shy and insecure with your new shape, often feeling like the weight will never drop off to what you looked like before.

It was hard to digest the change.

You were in the bathroom to freshen up, your eyes looking back at you in the mirror almost pitifully - your gaze travelling down, honing in on your stomach through your once baggy tee.

"They're here," Bucky calls from the other room, his voice putting a hold on the thoughts in your mind.

You step out of the bathroom, meeting your husband and daughter by the front door, a pink baby bag slung over his shoulder.

He notices the downcast direction of your eyes, seeing the way you tried to pull away from his attention. "Everything okay?" he asks you, rocking his little girl in his arms, bouncing her when she makes a noise.

You hum, walking closer to say goodbye to your baby - running a finger over her soft cheek. 

He doesn't believe you, though he waits for it to be just the two of you before he can question it. He doesn't want to create a situation before your parents arrive to pick up your daughter. They offered to have her for a few hours to give you both some respite.

The second the door closes, and it's just the two of you again, he turns to look at you - his brows curled up inquisitively.

"Now, what's really going on?" he asks, referring to all those times you shut yourself off from him - primarily that one a few minutes ago.

You turn away, heading to the kitchen to get a drink. "Going on with what?" you deflect, trying to avoid the topic.

He follows you, standing behind you at the sink - his arms wrapping around your middle, chin resting over your shoulder. 

But he's too close to where you don't want him, so you flinch at his touch, moving his hands away from your tummy and stretching the hem of your top - pulling on the fabric.

Bucky rips his hands from you, your avoidance of his touch making things whirl in his mind. "You don't like that anymore?" he asks, stepping aside to face the side of you.

"I do... just— just not right now," you reply, taking a quick sip of water before moving across the kitchen - heading towards the fridge. "Tired, feel gross," you shrug, trying to ease the tension you accidentally created. 

"That's not it," he softly shakes his head, eyes focused on you even though every glance goes unreciprocated. "It's something else."

"Just need a nap and shower," you partially lie, pulling out two apples, handing him one.

He doesn't accept your attempt at deflection, instead turning it down. "No, it's something else," he continues, his eyes glued to the side of your face. "And you're afraid of saying it."

"I'm not," you softly protest, voice quiet.

"So it is something else," he mutters, the unknown confession of you making things easier for him, harder for you.

You're cornered. You sigh and nod faintly, closing the door of the fridge. 

"What is it? Please talk to me," he reaches for your hand, fingers wrapping themselves around yours. "It's just the two of us, no distractions... what's been going on?"

"It's hard to get used to," you start, pausing to think of what to say next.

"What is? Being a mom?" he asks, noticing your focused gaze on the baby stuff on the counter. 

You nod, pausing once more. "Not just that," you exhale, shrugging. "Everything's changed."

"With us?" he asks, hand tightening in yours. 

"With me," you correct, looking down at your hand in his. "I've changed, and I'm not used to it... I don't like it."

"How have you changed?" he questions, trying to prompt more answers from you. 

"My body has," you softly reply, trying not to squirm at your confession. "My boobs, tummy, my hair. The weight is taking longer to come off than I thought, and I feel— I feel like a..." you go quiet, not wanting to finish your sentence.

However, Bucky's not done coaxing words from you. His face softens when you finally meet his gaze, his features inviting and knowing. "Feel like a what?" he whispers.

"I don't know," you shrug again.

"'You are not your thoughts'," he says, reciting those words you've said to him countless times after his nightmares. Though now he's repurposing them to someone else who needs them, you. "I repeat that saying in my head all the time. Do you know who taught me that?" he asks, his gaze honing in on you - trying to stop you from looking away.

"Me," you whisper. 

"That's right," he nods, bringing his spare hand to cup your cheek. "You need to use that same kindness to yourself. And right now," he starts, pressing a kiss into your lips. "You have never looked more beautiful to me."

You softly frown, the rest of your features relaxing.

"Your body gave us a daughter," he smiles. "You made her. You may or may not get your ‘old body back.’ But the one you have now is perfect too.”

"Thank you," your voice cracks, the sweet words of your lover soothing all the doubts in your mind. You envelop him in an embrace, arms hugging around him in the ways you've recently longed for. "I mean it."

His arms wrap around you just as tight, one hand running up your spine. "So do I.”

[httpvomitello]

I usually dont do requests but.. you see, you seem pretty nice for me to NOT ask for something.

Soo, im autistic and i have a HUGE problem with anything that gets sticky or stuff like this, so washing dishes for me makes me very disgusted.

Soo.. could I maybe ask for a fem autistic reader x rottmnt donnie? Like shes just trying to wash dishes but some food just gets in her hand and she just gets all "eww!"

Sorry if this is a bad request, I just rarely see autistic reader stuff. Take your time and I love your tmnt stuff!

Hello, hello! I decided to write this one here, because... Well, as you said, it's a little difficult to find autistic reader request. HOWEVER! This will officially be the last request I will accept from TMNT, because I will stop writing about them for a long time ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ. Anyways, hope you like it ~ ♡♡♡♡

Sensory Overload and Suds *⁠.⁠✧

ROTTMNT Donnie x Autistic!Fem!Reader

The kitchen sink was running, warm water filling the basin as you carefully placed the dirty dishes inside. You never minded washing dishes—when everything went smoothly, at least. The warm water felt nice, and the repetitive motions were calming. But the moment your fingers brushed against something slimy at the bottom of a bowl, a deep, full-body shiver ran through you.

"Eww!" You recoiled so fast you almost knocked the dish rack over, shaking your hand like it was on fire. "Ew, ew, ew, ew!"

From across the lair, Donnie, who had been working on one of his latest tech projects, immediately turned toward the noise. His brow furrowed behind his goggles as he stood up. "Are we under attack? Has one of my brothers done something catastrophic again? Is the kitchen on fire? Because if it is, I swear I will—"

You turned toward him, still shaking your hand in distress. "No, no, it's worse!"

"Worse than the kitchen being on fire?" He asked dryly, making his way over.

You turned the sink off and backed away from it like it had personally offended you. "I touched…something."

Donnie tilted his head. "Something?"

You shuddered again, rubbing your hands against your shirt as if that could erase the sensation. "Something slimy. And now I feel it. It's everywhere. It's like it's still on my skin even though it's not. I hate it."

Ah. Sensory overload. Donnie knew how that was.

"Alright, stand back, dearest," Donnie said, dramatically cracking his knuckles. "I shall now engage in a high-stakes battle against the revolting entity that dares disturb you."

You gave him a flat look. "Don, it's just food gunk."

"A heinous foe, indeed," he continued, rolling up nonexistent sleeves before grabbing a pair of dish gloves from under the sink and slipping them on. "Fear not, for I am well-equipped to vanquish it."

Despite the lingering feeling of grossness still on your hands, you snorted. He always did this—turning small moments into theatrical productions. You appreciated it, though. It made things easier, made you feel less silly for being overwhelmed by something others might see as insignificant.

Donnie rinsed out the offending dish, making sure there were no traces of slimy remnants left before setting it aside. He then turned to you and dramatically held out his hand. "There. The beast has been slain. Shall I escort you to the hand soap to ensure no remnants remain?"

You rolled your eyes but took his hand anyway, letting him guide you to the sink. He turned the water on for you, and you immediately scrubbed your hands under the warm stream, sighing in relief as the sensation finally faded.

"Feeling better?" he asked, watching as you meticulously cleaned every finger.

You nodded, glancing at him. "Yeah. Thanks, Don."

He gave you a little smirk and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Anytime, my dear. My talents extend far beyond the realm of science—I am also a certified rescuer of distressed damsels suffering from unfortunate dish-related incidents."

You flicked water at him. "You're so dramatic."

"And you love it."

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn't stop the small smile forming on your lips. "Yeah. I do."

[foreingersgod]

Can you write a CC x country reader that has a heavy accent, like Texas or smth and how it makes people react to it?

this is such a cute idea, i decided to put my own little twist on it so i hope you like it!

Texas Twang . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you were born and raised on a texas farm, eventually moving away for college where you met caitlin. here’s a list of 5 times she’s fallen in love with you and your accent

A/N: #5 is a wee bit spicy (trying to feed ya’ll as per request) so please skip it if you’re uncomfortable with that!

also i got these sayings off of google cause i dont know any texas slang or how to convey the reader having an accent so sorry if they’re literally not real 😭

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

1. when you first met

you were panicked, running around your small room trying to find your stupid fucking phone. you were already running 5 minutes behind, the clock on the wall told you, but you wouldn’t be able to find your first class of the morning regardless if you didn’t find your phone. checking under your heap of blankets, in the drawers of your desk, and even in your laundry basket, you found nothing.

then, after throwing every book out of your backpack as a last resort, you saw it laying below discarded orientation papers and sticky notes. with a sigh of relief, you snatched your phone and sprinted out of your building.

you were running at full speed, which was a little embarrassing considering every one else on campus was just walking normally. but you were extremely behind and would be so mad if you were late to your first class at this school. so you continued to weave through people. you dodged campaigners, sped through large groups on the lawns, probably knocking down a few people in the process.

your sprinting seemed to pay off when you noticed the building up ahead. you glanced at the time, seeing you still had a few minutes to make it if you really hurried. your legs ached as you continued to speed walk past bypassers.

then, without notice, you ran right into someone passing by. the force of your impact causing the both of you to fall to the ground in the middle of the quad. if you weren’t late already, you surely would have been now.

“shit” you heard the other person cuss under their breath. you looked up, still planted on the ground, to the person in front of you.

she was an insanely attractive woman. lean, about 6 foot, muscular, just your type you might add. she was pushing herself off of the concrete side walk, brushing the gravel from her pants. you followed suit, standing up then apologizing profusely for running into her.

“oh my hell, i’m so sorry” you exclaimed “i was goin’ way too fast, i apologize”

she gave you a crooked smile, shaking her head.

“no you’re ok, it happens, i should’ve been paying attention”

“no, really ‘s my bad”

her face twisted ever so slightly as you talked “you’re not from around here are you?” she blurted “sorry, that’s completely irrelevant, i just noticed the accent”

you laughed, this wasn’t the first time someone was confused by the heaviness of your accent “it’s fine, i don’t mind. yea, no i’m from a small town in texas, i moved up here for college recently”

“oh really? that’s cool” she smiled, extending her hand to you “well, i’m caitlin by the way”

“i’m YN” you returned her handshake “ ‘s so nice to meet you, but i’m runnin’ late for class”

“wait” she stopped you before you ran past her “do you think i could grab your number, maybe i could take you out sometime?”

you were all smiles “i’d like that, i’d like that very much”

2. your first argument

you don’t even know how it started. all you knew is that some girl was getting flirty at the bar and, according to your girlfriend, you were letting her seduce you. this was obviously not true. you and caitlin hadn’t been dating that long, but it has going really well and she’s incredibly important to you. important enough that you wouldn’t just be flirting with other women at the bar.

nonetheless, you were being dragged out of the bar. caitlin was oozing jealousy as you headed back to your place for the night.

“she was all over you, YN” caitlin sneered, following you into your apartment and slamming the door.

“oh my god, she wasn’t!” you rolled your eyes “good lord, arguing with you ‘s like tryna piss up a god damn rope”

“what?”

“what do you mean what?” your accent was thick, rolling off your tongue.

“what the hell does ‘pissing up a rope’ mean?” she looked at you confused, dropping the girl from the bar entirely.

you looked at her equally confused “you don’t say that here?”

“uh no, i think that’s a you thing” she said “your texas slang is distracting me and it’s making it very hard to be mad at you right now”

you chuckled, kissing her cheek “ ‘s just my southern charm, baby”

3. when you sing in the car

caitlin hated country music for the most part. but when you came along, you made it your duty to get her to enjoy it at least a little bit. she had never been subjected to small farm country music and to you, that was a sin.

so you’d play it for her on occasion, if she let you. and surprisingly it was pretty often. she would never tell you, but she only put up with country music just to hear you sing it. she was completely mesmerized by the way your accent mixed with the tune of the songs.

one day you were in the car together, on the way home from a get together with friends. it was a warm summer evening, sun on the brink of setting causing the sky to glow shades of orange and pink. cait was driving, per usual, you being her honorary passenger princess. she rolled down all the windows for you (even the sunroof) just how you liked it. you loved feeling the hot summer breeze blow through your hair with the radio turned all the way up.

“you follow me, and lead me on..” you hummed lightly, ‘all your’n by tyler childers sounding through the car radio.

she snuck glances at you as she drove down the empty street, watching how you let your arms hang out with window and let the wind fan over your face.

“so ill love you till my lungs give out” you closed your eyes, lost in the moment “i ain’t lying’”

caitlin so desperately wanted to pull over and listen to you sing all night long. your voice was like a gift from the gods. the way your accent slurred with each word had her melting in the drivers seat.

“i’m all your’n” you looked over to caitlin, smiling “ ‘n you’re all mine”

she smiled back, reaching across the console and resting her hand on your thigh.

she let you play your music the rest of the way home, just wanting to listen to you sing for a little bit longer.

4. when you met her family

you had waited months to meet caitlin’s family. no really, families were your thing. growing up in texas, it was common to be in or surrounded by a big family. and you knew big families more than anyone else, having 9 siblings, you being the middle child. it was a setting you thrived it and you tended to get along with people pretty well.

caitlin was hesitant to introduce you, she was freshly out of the closet and had never brought a girl home before. but this thanksgiving, she thought it was the perfect time to introduce you.

“so, YN” caitlin’s mother asked from across the table. “i’m sure you’re not used to such a small family, caitlin told me you come from quite the family tree?”

caitlin’s hand found your knee under the table, squeezing it lightly for comfort.

“oh yea,” you chuckled “my mama had a whole litter with 9 ‘a us. it was always crazy around the house, with 5 brothers n 3 sisters. and my daddy wasn’t around to help out off’n, but that’s a whole ‘nutter can a worms”

the way her family reacted to your voice made caitlin laugh under her breath, watching how they slowly dissected your sentence trying to make out the words from beneath the accent. she thought it was cute, lucky to have such a unique and special girl.

even the way you interacted with her younger cousins had her fawning over you, you were just so sweet and gentle.

“hiya, sweetie” you smiled as caitlin’s baby cousin accidentally fell into you “took a bit of a spill there didn’t ‘cha?”

you were the perfect picture of a warm welcome, full of beauty and grace and kindness. caitlin knew, from this moment, you’d be in her life forever.

SPICE AHEAD

5. during sex

she’d be lying if she said that damned accent didn’t get her riled up. because truly, it had her wet the second you started talking.

when she would have you pressed up against the wall, one leg wrapped around her torso as she kissed down your collarbone and onto your cleavage. the way you would moan “oh darlin’” oh so sweetly in her ear had her going crazy.

the rare instances in which you would take the lead in bed, watching as you crawled atop of her, stripping her bare. how you would hook your fingers under her underwear, tugging them down her long and toned legs. she was already bucking her hips into nothing. then you’d fasten your arms under her thighs, pulling them apart to place delicate kisses along the insides of her legs.

you’d tease her a bit more before dropping your head low, hot breath fanning against her glistening cunt. she bit her lip, trying to suppress moans of pleasure, and you had hardly touched her yet. you took your time with her, tongue dragging deliciously against her, savoring the taste.

“well you’re just sweeter than cherry pie, aren’t ‘cha baby” you’d praise, having her arching under your touch. with that, she couldn’t hold her moans any longer, completely coming undone as you continued to treasure every inch of her body.

you were going to be the death of her. 

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: alright guys i tried to make it a little spicier, so feedback is much appreciated cause i honestly feel like it sucked lol

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate: Chapter Three

Pairing - Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer takes Y/n in, doing anything in his power to offer her comfort while she seeks safety in his apartment. Warnings - Mentions of toxic relationship, i think that's it x Words - 2.1K

Masterlist

Spencer Reid's apartment was exactly what Y/n expected but also not at the same time. Of course, his living room/kitchen area was lined with bookshelves, literature ranging from philosophy to quantum physics. All of the spines broken in. He had a leather couch, exactly like the one in his office only bigger and filled with a couple of plush cushions. He had spots filled with plants which were dying for some water but no other sign of life.

Y/n didn't know much about her professor's personal life. Only the information he spoke about in lectures - which barely ever exceeded his past workings alongside the BAU. However, she expected something more to him than well, himself. She first imagined him with at least a girlfriend, wife maybe. But, whenever she had been in his office, all that sat at his desk was a frame pictured of his team and another of him and, who she assumed was, his mother.

He wasn't a recluse, but he certainly seemed introverted. At the very least, Y/n had almost expected a dog or some small pet coming up and greeting her. But, within one glance, she came to realise the only other living thing in this apartment was the withering plants.

"I hope you don't mind the mess," Y/n gazed back around the room; on her terms, this was tidy. "I didn't realise I'd have company."

Y/n shrugged, still shaken from the events of the day, "Dont worry about it." Maybe she needed to clean her own flat if this was what the man considered a mess.

Suddenly, Spencer became very aware of himself. His hands fidgeted at the top of his trousers as he spoke, "Do you want anything? Food? Drink? I have erm-" He was already moving towards the wooden cupboard above the stove, "I have this tea," He graspped a small, unopened box of British tea that the girl didn't recognise. "One of my co-worker likes to try all of them, they're not really my thing." He rambled.

Y/n only shrugged once more, "Sure, I'll try it."

Spencer grabbed two cups, brewing himself a pot of coffee and attempting to make the tea which Penelope had given him. Within five minutes, he wandered over to the sofa and passed the girl her drink. "One of my team members worked in London for a little while, so," He offered an awkward smile.

"Is she the one for gave you the tea?" Y/n questioned as her knees found her chest and she blew against the boiling drink.

The boy laughed in a whisper, "No, no. Our technical analyst visited her once and demanded we all try the different types of teas from over there." He explained.

"I'm guessing you didn't like it then?" She asked.

He shook his head, "Not my thing." And Y/n looked back to the tea, letting it's scent fill her nose; surely it wasn't so bad. She sipped at it, the warmth of the tea filling through her lungs. It wasn't as bad as Spencer made it out to be. A similar taste as coffee: acquired. And, in her current state, she didn't care what she was drinking. All Y/n cared for was whether she was safe or not. When she glanced over at Spencer she felt safe, she felt comforted. Two things which had been rare for her in the past year.

"Could I ask you something?" Y/n speaks up after a moment of quiet, the only sound being the news channel which was lulling in the background of both of their thoughts. Spencer had looked over and nodded instantly, feeling a pull towards her, towards whatever it was which was swirling around in that marvellous mind of hers. "Do you think I could make it? In the BAU I mean. I like to think I'd be able to, but sometimes you talk about cases and all I can compare it to is horror stories."

It was a worry of which lots of students possessed. And it was true for some students, the very smell of a corpse had made several students whom believed they were ready, hurled over and vomiting. There was lots to it. And even now, after all the cases Spencer and his team had gone through, some hit hard. That was always going to be the case - it was just whether you could compartmentalise it or not.

"You're an excellent student, Y/n." Spencer commented, "Being in the field is different but you get used to it and you'll soon learn to draw a line between what happens in the field and what happens at home." The boy continued to explain.

She nodded along and glanced back at her tea, "Is that why you went back to teaching instead?" The girl wasn't certain as to whether she was overstepping. There was line. They had to maintain the relationship of student and teacher. Yet, she was here in his apartment, drinking his tea, sat on his couch. Maybe that line had already been crossed.

Spencer had shrugged, "Partly, I suppose." He answered, giving the girl a small smile.

After that, the girl became quiet. She sipped on her tea and mindlessly watched the brain-numbing tv show that had been playing in the background. Here felt safe. It felt better than had she dared go home, awaiting the sound of the buzzer, of the man she dreaded at her accommodation door. Or even in a motel, staring up at the ceiling, wishing she was somewhere she could call home - of even safe.

But here, here, was safe. He was safe - dare she come to admit such.

And when her eyes became heavy, she didn't stop herself. Not like she normally would. Sleep was scary when that certain ex-boyfriend was on her mind. Y/n's mind never felt safe enough to let her sleep. Not until she was sat across from her professor. In his locked apartment where no one could ever find her.

When Spencer glanced back at her, the girl lulled into her dreams, he slowly stood. He crouched before her, a gentle hand pressing at her shoulder, "Y/n-" He whispered.

The man was met with her jumping awake, a breath sucked right into her lungs like she had been drowning in her sleep. "Hey, hey," He rushed out, "You're okay, you fell asleep, it's okay." He soothed.

Spencer's hand had never left her shoulder and she was grateful for such. His touch was real. This was real - unlike what she thought. Without even thinking, her own hand moved up, grazing against his own, her eyes shutting as to give herself a moment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to jump." She muttered back before her eye fluttered back open.

His eyes explored her own. His hazel hues stared into her like he was reading her very thoughts. The girl wondered if he knew that she wanted him, that she was imagining his arms around her like a protective shield. When Y/n came to realise how inappropriate her own thoughts were, her hand fell. "How about you go to sleep?" Spencer suggested as he too pulled his touch away. "I'll get you some clothes, is that alright?"

Y/n nodded but the very thought of his material on her skin made her shiver. Still she waited in his spare room until he returned. It was like any guest room; bare of much personality. A bed that seemed to not have been slept in since it had been made. A dresser which was home to Spencer's Summer clothes he never wore and some books which weren't impressive enough to lay in his living area.

"Are these alright for you?" He questioned, passing over some joggers and a plain white t-shirt. "I don't know if they'll fit but you know-"

The girl glanced down at the clothes and simply shrugged, "They're perfect, thank you." She offered him a grin as a wave of awkward silence passed over the room; maybe she shouldn't have called his clothes perfect. They were just joggers and a top. Nothing special.

Spencer fidgeted and rolled on the balls of his feet, "Well then I'll erm- I'll let you get some rest." He spoke, already heading to escape what had become an awkward situation.

Once his back was turned, Y/n spoke up; a pathetic attempt to voice the true appreciation she felt for her professor, "Doctor Reid?" She called before the man slowly glanced back at her.

His face softened, his stiff shoulders relaxed, "Please, just call me Spencer."

Y/n's face bobbed down as her smile fought to the surface, "I erm- thank you, again, I mean it. I don't know what I would have done without you." The girl truly meant her words. It was rare she had anyone step in the way Spencer had done, offering her anything and everything. All to ensure her very safety.

"I'm here for you, Y/n." The man assured, "I'm not just your professor, I want to make sure you're okay." He said such so easily. Like he hadn't just maybe said something he shouldn't have done.

Spencer was just her professor. The professor who was looking out for his student's wellbeing. Nothing more - nothing less. Or at least that's what he would be telling himself.

For that night, the two slept in different beds, in different rooms. Yet they were barely meters apart. The comfort of safety made the bed feel like clouds as Y/n finally had the rest she was in such desperate need of. But when morning came, the daunting idea of going into the police station suddenly suffocated her.

She wandered out of the guest bedroom, dressed in nothing but Spencer's t-shirt and her own pants. The man was already there, dressed in bed-head and lazy pyjamas as he leaned over the kitchen stove. It was the scent which met Y/n's senses first; the crisp, burning smell of what she assumed was bacon. "Jesus, what are you cooking?" She winced at the smell, daring to move further into the kitchen.

Spencer glanced back, spatula in hand, "Bacon and eggs." He was gazing back with a harsh shrug, "I don't normally have guests so I'm erm- I'm-"

"Struggling?" Y/n finished his sentence for him. When he nodded, the girl slipped into view of the food. She chucked away the charred bacon pieces, slipped some more oil over the pan and placed fresh rations into the pan. "You had it on too high," She informed as she turned the fire on the stove down, "Hopefully it's better now."

When Y/n looked back to Spencer, she found his eyes already on her, like he was staring into her soul, seeing something in her that he hadn't before. Maybe it was this feeling of a domestic atmosphere. Making breakfast in their pjs, not caring for the fact they weren't ready, the care, the urge to have her here every morning. That was something of which Spencer couldn't shake.

"Right, of course." He mumbled before returning to stare at the meat.

An hour of so later and the two had something which wasn't burnt for breakfast. They were dressed and ready. Or as ready as Y/n could be for something like this. Talking about her ex-boyfriend, even thinking about her, caused her a wave of nerves she couldn't quite escape. And when Spencer's hand reached the door nob of his apartment, he came to realise the girl wasn't following after him.

With it open a jar, he glanced back, "Everything okay?" She simply swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat and Spencer knew. He took a few steps closer to her, "I know this is scary, but it will be worth it. An hour of anxiety, is worth being free of it forever."

The man then extended his hand for her to take, an offer of support. And when Y/n interlocked her fingers with his, she felt more ready than ever. "Yeah, yeah." She nodded before the two exited his home.

She preyed this was the start of the end. No more fighting in the beer gardening, no more panic attacks, no more sleepovers at her professor's apartment....no more security. Maybe it was wrong for her to yearn for this to continue. Not the stalker ex, but these nights, these mornings. Maybe it was wrong for her to long for something so inappropriate. Yet she couldn't seem to help herself and neither could he.

--

Taglist: - @tonystankhere @ilikw @abbiesxox Let me know if you'd liked to be added!

[mmogurl]

In The Shadow of Dragons Chapter 2: Forbidden Fruit

18+ | 3.1k | Daemon Targaryen X Female OC | possessive, protective, objectifying, simping, raunchy Daemon | Uncle / niece incest, Smut, Dragons, Political Intrigue, Plotting, Murder, lots of old timey concepts that don't make a lot of sense today, but are still kind of hot/fun.

The rest of Daemon's night once Ryna leaves. He also spends some time thinking back on the past. Continuing the story from Daemon's POV.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9 Also on AO3

Daemon drained the last remnants of his chalice, savoring every drop of the wine as it passed his lips. Then, he leaned against the edge of the parapet, allowing the refreshing caress of the night air to sooth his thoughts and quell his lingering passions.

He could still taste her on his lips.

His sweet little niece.

He chuckled softly at the idea that he’d gone from barely being able to speak to her, to the young princess practically begging him to take her maidenhead.

And he would…

But first, if he was to go up against Viserys, he’d have to tread carefully.

He would need to be the perfect, repentant uncle. His brother would have to see Ryna’s affections had curbed his rashness and impulsivity… at least in his eyes. The task at hand was indeed a daunting one, for Daemon would have to win over the King’s favor, which was no small feat.

With an exasperated sigh, he turned and began the journey back inside the castle, his mind consumed with ideas on how to gain his brother’s trust once more. The party was still in full swing when Daemon returned to the Great Hall, but he could tell immediately that tonight might not be the best time for conversation.

His elder brother sat alone in his chair, drinking deep of his wine. He was the King of Westeros, but he looked like nothing more than a drunk wallowing in his cups. Daemon felt an ache in his chest at the sight of what his proud brother had become. Had the Hightower bitch and her ilk brought the King so low in Daemon’s absence these past years?

He knew a simple word from him would have the King’s attention, but as he watched his brother raise the chalice to his lips and pour a generous measure of wine down his throat, he knew no real progress would be made this evening.

Perhaps in the morning with Viserys’ head clear of the effects of the drink, Daemon would be able to speak with him.

Just a moment…

A smile tugged at his lips as he realized that it would be much easier to handle his brother in the morning when his head was likely to be thrumming from the effects of the Arbor red.

Yes, that is precisely what I need.

Daemon glanced around, hoping to lay his eyes upon his little niece, but there was no trace of her among the masses. She’d likely already retired to her chambers for the night, a thought he realized was disappointing. He stepped up to one of the long tables and began preparing a plate of food, his appetite finally getting the better of him.

Once satisfied with his selection of meats, he walked over to the dais and sat down at the edge of the empty table, close to Viserys who sat aside it. Daemon refilled his cup from a carafe that was still nearly full and nodded politely to his brother.

“Finally tired of prowling the countryside for whores, brother?” Viserys bellowed with inebriated enthusiasm.

Perfect.

Daemon laughed gruffly as he chewed the cold meat he’d bitten off. “Not as of late. It grows tiresome having to entertain every desperate widow and wanton maid who seeks a night with the infamous ‘Rogue Prince.’” He took a long swig of his wine before continuing. “It seems that the reputation I’ve built for myself follows me, whether I desire it or not.”

Viserys let out a belly laugh that echoed through the Great Hall. “Don’t dont that you relish in such rumors. You’ve always loved the attention.” The King gave his own thigh a hearty pat, the wine had clearly taken its hold on him. “I admit, I have always enjoyed the tales of your exploits, brother. Especially the one about the two septas!”

“Ah yes, the beautiful and devout septas. I’m sure the Seven above must have heard every single prayer uttered within my chamber that night.” He’d almost forgotten about that particular night, but it wouldn’t help him in the slightest with his current conquest.

“But enough of that, we’re here to celebrate the birth of your grandson.” And my inevitable claim to your daughter. “How goes the realm in my absence, Brother?”

Viserys chuckled, raising his chalice up to his brother, but not before emptying its contents with a quick swig. “Ah, it’s the same as it always is. The great houses squabble amongst themselves like children… And my daughter continues to drive me to an early grave. I confess, I’m not sure what to do with her.”

“Which of my nieces is troubling you?” Daemon asked with the raise of his brow and smirked.

“Both of them,” Viserys groaned with frustration. “I hear nothing but contemptuous rumors about Rhaenyra and Ryna won’t even consider a suitor, always with some excuse about how all lords available are unworthy of her.”

Daemon had to hold back a scoff. She is not wrong.

Instead he hummed in agreement, playing the role of the dutiful brother flawlessly. “It is indeed a pity, dear brother. She has reached the age to marry and has had ample opportunity to choose a husband. As King, her union should be at your prompting, should it not?”

Viserys let out a sound that was something between a snort and a sigh, letting his annoyance show through. “Yes ‘should’ and ‘would’ are two different things, particularly when it comes to my daughter,” he said shaking his head. “Ryna is just as headstrong as her elder sister, even though she is more agreeable on the whole.”

Daemon nodded along as he finished his meal and set the plate aside, knowing only too well of Ryna’s fiery side. The way she had demanded he give up the throne on the battlements had been a stark reminder that she was no longer an entirely docile child. That boldness would prove useful to him though, especially with the plans he had in mind.

She’ll be a willful little wife. One I look forward to taming.

Viserys refilled his chalice and drowned in another helping of wine, his tone growing more somber as he continued. “Ryna is a good girl, but her head is in the clouds when it comes to marriage. I fear that she has an idealistic dream of the perfect match, a husband who will love her and shower her with affection.” He took another long drink. “Such men do not exist, at least not in the ranks of the eligible lords of the realm. But a certain kind of affection can often grow once wed.”

Daemon let a pointed laugh die against his closed lips. No man would cherish sweet little Ryna as much as I, brother. He tried to ignore the pang of jealousy when Viserys mentioned some faceless cunt of a lord touching the princess in any way.

“That does not surprise me. I’m sure my niece will have high hopes for any potential match,” Daemon said with a feigned indifference. “All young girls wish for such a perfect husband, but the princess must consider her duties to the realm.”

Viserys gave Daemon a queer look of surprise, as if he were not expecting his brother to be so reasonable on the subject. “You truly think so? Have all the women you have known desired such a union?” he snickered at the implication. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly become a romantic, after all of these years.”

Daemon leaned back in his chair nonchalantly. “Perhaps I have grown tired of bedding whores and have a desire to settle down in my old age…” He reached over for his chalice and took a slow, pensive sip, watching Viserys’ face change as he was clearly caught off guard by such a statement. “I had tried, but the Gods did not see fit to let my last lady-wife persist through childbirth.”

The King nodded mournfully, “Laena… I am sorry brother.” Viserys dragged his chair over to his brother slightly and gave Daemon’s leg a gentle, understanding pat.

“Yes, Laena…” he mused, not wishing to think on the past. “I did care for her. I tried, truly,” he said with a twinge of regret in his tone. “But I simply did not share a love for her like the great love you shared with Aemma. I never shall I suppose, but I still wish I could…” He trailed off, lost in his own thoughts for a moment before looking back to Viserys.

“Aemma was my favored wife, it’s true. I believe it is why I dote on Rhaenyra and Ryna so much. I still miss her terribly, but you cannot simply force a love like that, not with a lady you do not feel it for.” Viserys sighed knowingly before continuing, emotion obvious in his expression. “I was fortunate enough to find my love. Perhaps, even you will find yours one day, Daemon.”

Daemon struggled hard to suppress a smile at that last statement. Oh, I’ve found her already, dear brother. I’ll see that little princess of yours as my wife if it’s the last thing I do. Though that was not a conversation he wished to have tonight.

He feigned a sympathetic smile as he refilled his chalice with dark red wine from the carafe. “Perhaps… Only time will tell.”

The talk between brothers continued, consisting mostly of harmless banter. Daemon did his best to maintain the friendly demeanor, letting his brother babble on and on drunkenly as the hour grew late. With each passing hour, he could see Viserys’ body grow heavier with sleep and inebriation. Though the King continued to fight it, his eyelids grew heavier until he finally relented to the alcohol’s pull. With that he slowly sank back into the chair, his head slowly rolling sideways.

Daemon sniggered as the Hightower bitch shuffled up to the high table, attempting to correct the drunken image he was portraying to his subjects. She snapped for the guards to help her escort the King out of the Great Hall and back to his chambers. Daemon nodded towards Alicent keeping the bare minimum of civility before turning his attention back to the celebration.

There were still a decent amount of guests lingering, laughing amongst themselves or drunkenly stumbling towards the exit. He stood and stretched like a cat, then made to leave the Hall.

He walked with a brisk pace back towards his rooms, trying to quell the anticipation he felt building in his chest. Ryna would be in her chambers now, likely having changed into some comfortable night shift. Daemon had a fondness for sleeping gowns; they were always made of a thin, light material that left nothing to the imagination.

Daemon shook his head trying to dismiss his growing excitement at the thought of all those pretty pale curves, begging to be claimed.

No, no. I must be patient.

He reached the door to his chamber and made quick work of the few latches that secured it. Once inside, he kicked the door shut and began to disrobe, pulling off his leather vest and then his doublet. He changed into a linen tunic, not bothering to fasten the ties, but simply letting the material hang loose. Daemon then laid down on the bed, folding his arms behind his head while he tried to relax into the soft mattress.

“You never once glanced my way.”

Ryna’s words rang in his head, his brow furrowing as he recalled the frenzied distress of her voice and the pain present in her eyes. He had done a good job of hiding his feelings it seemed, at least in recent years. When his little Ryna had still been a child, things had been simpler. Daemon never had to hide his care for the girl, for she reminded him of himself. A second child, always wanting for love and attention and always deprived of it. It was never a hassle to spoil her with gifts and trips whenever he had time to.

It wasn’t until he came back to King’s Landing after his victory in the Stepstones that he first started to notice his youngest niece in a different light. And there was something about his newfound attraction to her that both delighted and disgusted him.

She stood out from the crowd gathered in the Great Hall to witness his return and her blond and silver curls flowing down past her shoulders drew Daemon’s attention almost immediately. He did not even recognize her at first with those pouty, deep pink lips leading straight into a full bosom.

After Viserys accepted him back, he had waited for the right opportunity to approach her, but Rhaenyra had insisted on throwing herself at him every moment she was able. Which of course resulted in uncomfortable glances from both her father and goodmother as she tried to inject herself into a conversation where she did not belong.

But as Rhaenyra and Alicent walked off together and Viserys made conversation with his Hand, Daemon finally found the right moment to speak to her. He approached the young woman who had replaced his niece as she sat alone on a stone bench, nibbling away at a sweet cake. He felt like a stranger to someone once so dear to him and he regretted those four years he’d spent away from King’s Landing most in that moment.

Ryna acted as though not a day had passed and surprised him when she jumped up from her seat and embraced him as though she were still a child. There hadn’t been much in his life that he’d felt wicked for, but the arousal he felt shoot to his groin in that moment was one of them. He knew then he could not stain the memory of someone so pure with such debauched thoughts.

Daemon backed away, not even giving her the gift he had tucked away in his pocket, and he had stayed away from her since. It might have been cruel, for she had tried to approach him so many times after, but he thought it best that he keep his distance. She did not deserve a wolf such as him barking at her heels. He would deny himself this one indulgence.

As he stood beneath the heart tree thinking of what must never come to pass, Rhaenyra approached him once more. She was practically lusting after him, all but saying it out loud how much she desired him. It was then that he realized how similar they were. They were both vicious and willing to do almost anything to get what they wanted. Almost anything.

It dawned on him that perhaps he deserved Rhaenyra. That they deserved each other. And that it would be a means to return to the throne he’d been robbed of. And in that instant, he’d make a foolish mistake. He’d tell himself that what he felt for his first niece was good enough. It wasn’t about love after all, it was about gaining advantage. About producing heirs. She had the same Valyrian blood running through her veins, and she was just as dark as he. Not good and innocent as his precious little sweetling was.

And just as many have been wont to do when aggrieved, he had taken the bait. As she bat her lashes at him, flirting while proudly displaying the necklace he had once given her while she spoke of not wanting to be married off. She might as well have been begging him to marry her instead, but Viserys would never go for it and he knew it well. So he’d stolen her away from the castle at night, brought her out to see the sights, and ultimately ended up in the basement of a brothel with her.

Daemon hadn’t even been sure what his intentions were that night. Perhaps he wished to sully her maidenhood in an attempt to force Viserys’ hand into either self-sabotage or the desired marriage. Or perhaps he just wished to forget, to claim another girl instead of the one he wanted, but dare not touch. Even then, he could not go through with it. He could not even lose himself in Rhaenyra for that golden head of hair reminded him too much of his sweetling.

He had been foolish. He never should have reacted so poorly, but the truth of it was that he had no idea how to handle what he’d felt. Daemon should have simply used restraint in dealing with Ryna, but he’d never been good at resisting temptation. He wasn’t certain he had what it took to control his base desires in the face of such carnal enticements.

Perhaps in the end it had been best that he had run away from it all. He’d learned much about temperance from his marriage to Laena, even if his thoughts had always remained preoccupied with another. And in all those years he spent away, Ryna had grown into a true Valyrian woman, rivaling the beauty of all who came before her.

Earlier that very night, he’d become a few cups deep after hearing the chatter of several lords that had been vying for his sweetling’s hand. The sickening rumors that the King would be forcing her to wed brought him out to the battlements to sulk. But, when he saw her parade out in front of him, dressed in a beautiful blue gown with her hair glimmering in the moonlight, he decided he could no longer hold back. He must approach her, revisit the feeling that had kept him away for so long and see if it still made him feel like a disgusting cad.

He was more than overjoyed when it did not.

It might have been that enough time had passed and he no longer recalled her so vividly as the child she once was, or perhaps it was the thought of losing her forever to another man that finally allowed him to be free of his shame.

Then there was the very way Ryna had responded to him so eagerly. He supposed that alone was enough to chase away the doubts he’d been harboring. She was his and had always been his. His niece had been meant for him and him alone.

Daemon sighed heavily, thinking of the way her lips had felt against his. How flawless her porcelain skin was and how soft her thighs felt beneath his fingers. He could feel his cock growing rigid as he began to drift off, the wine finally doing him in. Read Chapter 3

[koolades-world]

Okay follow me here what if jealous mammon is like why dont you ask x to do that with you? You're spending a lot of time with them. And mc just responds with they're not you

AHHH so cute

I'm 100% following gahhh that "they're not you" line is SO good

Us

You finally arrived home after RAD, giggling with Asmo. It had been mostly boring, but at least you shared most of your classes with Asmo. He never failed to make everything more interesting. He not only made group assignments fun and colorful, he even made silent, individual assignments better with lots of texts back and forth.

Weirdly enough, you hadn't seen Mammon today. You didn't have as many classes with him, but you always made it a point to spend some time with him when possible. But, you couldn't find him anywhere. You also didn't get a response to any of your texts to him. After you were done talking to Asmo, you decided to make it a point to find him.

"Mc! Look at how cute this outfit is!" Asmo snapped you out of thought by showing you his DDD. It was Majolish Devilgram with a post with their latest stock.

"That belt is so you! The pink is just your shade." You take the DDD from him to look at the post closer.

"I know, right? We should go today before they sell out! They know me, and will probably set some aside for me, but if they did that forever, how would they make a profit?" He laughed, tucking the DDD back in his pocket. Before you could respond, you caught a flash of white at the top of the stairs. You remembered that you hadn't seen Mammon all day, and in hopes that it was him, you decided to see if you could find him.

"Actually, do you mind waiting a little? I just remembered I have something I need to check on." You glance towards the stairs again but see nothing.

"Oh, of course! You know, if its Levi you want to check on, just know he's still alive. I texted him this morning. Just be back soon! Those clothes won't try themselves on. Let me know when you're ready to leave." Asmo gave you a quick hug, before walking off in the direction of the living room.

As soon as he was out of sight, you made your way up the stairs and in the general direction of that something that caught your eye. You began to wander around upstairs, in hopes of finding the white haired demon that had been on your mind all day. The door to Mammon's room was shut, but a light was streaming out from underneath it. Gently, you knock.

"Mammon? Are you in there?" There was no response, but you heard movement in the room. "I can hear you in there. Is something wrong?" You can hear more shuffling around before the door finally opens.

"What?" Mammon asked sharply. You're stunned for a moment. You've never heard him use that tone with you before.

"Are you ok?" You ignore the way he addressed you and continued.

"I don't know. How's Asmo?" His tone was dripping with malice.

"What's gotten into you?" You raise your voice a little, confused. He turned away from you.

"Don't you have somewhere to be with Asmo?" He walked further into his room, away from you. You step into his room after him and shut the door behind you.

"He did want to go to Majolish later, but it can wait. I can't go anywhere without checking up on you." You keep walking after him as he sit down on his bed with force.

"Just go then. I'm clearly not worth your time." He turns his body away from you. He sounds more upset than anything at this point. You sit beside him and put an arm around him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but please, help me help you." You lean to try and look at his face, but give up once he makes it clear he doesn't want you to.

"If you like Asmo that much, just go be with him." He huffs. His voice is quiet with emotion seeping into it.

"Mammon. He's not you." He stiffened like he'd been shocked. "No matter how much time I may spend with your brothers, or anyone for that matter, they come no where close to being you. You were my first friend here, and you made me feel at home away from home. You were my first pact. We have a special bond that's so precious to me. Most importantly, you're my first man. Not Asmo. Not anyone else. You." He turns back to you, his eyes glazed over with tears that threatened to spill. "Is that what you needed to hear? Because it's all true." He turns his entire body towards you and tackles you into a hug. You can't see his expression anymore, but from the way he fiercely cuddles you to his chest, you can tell how happy he is.

"I- I'm sorry." He hesitates at first. After taking a deep breath, he continues. "It was stupid. I just saw ya hanging out with Asmo a lot lately, and I jumped to conclusions." He hides his head into your shoulder.

"There's no need to apologize for how you feel, Mams. Just try to be a little more open next time. I was worried, you know." You feel him happily sigh into your shoulder at the nickname. You rub his back soothingly.

"I will. 'm sorry for scarin' ya." Before you can tell him he doesn't need to apologize again, he continues. "Will ya stay with me? I don't care if ya bring homework or whatever into my room, I just want yer company." He holds himself tightly to you as you try to push off of him a little to look at him.

"Of course." You decided to hold him for a bit longer, to reassure him he was the only man for you.

[cumulo-stratus]

Protector

Pairing: spencer reid x male!reader

Summary: after an unsub tries to hurt y/n, spencer steps in.

Warnings: cannon typical violence, talk of not being able to breath, Lemme know if theres anything else!

flufftober day 17: protective

A/N: were gonna ignore the fact that im skipping day 16 (im a touch avoid et autistic and the idea of a massage makes me so uncomfortable and i just couldnt write guys im sorry 😭) also ik i kinda ghosted yall on fics for like a couple weeks buuttttt (haha butt) i just got super busy with school, but its started to calm down again, i got all the presentations and tests out of the way so ill have more time to write after school. thx for being understanding <3!

Y/n fit the unsubs victims almost to a T- and y/n knew that. He knew that with no other options at this point, he would have to go undercover to bait her. And Spencer knew this- but it didn't mean he was happy about it. Y/n knew Spencer had abandonment issues- and tried his best to comfort Spencer, reminding him that both, and the rest of the team would be waiting close by incase anything happens. 

"Spence- I'll be okay, I'll have Morgan, Rossi, and prentiss in there with me-  and I'm sure we can convince Hotch to let you go undercover in the bar so you can be nearby."

"Good- I need to be there incase something happens." 

Y/n sighed and looked at Spencer- his eyes full of care for his boyfriend, nad gave him one last reassuring kiss before leaving spencer on his own for. a minute and rejoining the team to go over the plan one more time, just to be safe. And to ease spencers mind. 

y/n was sat in front of the bar in the extremely crowded pub, wearing fancy clothes, giving the appearance of wealth. The woman they were trying to catch believed that men didn’t deserve money, and she was punishing them for having it by torturing and killing them. Y/n was hoping they would be able to arrest her before she gets to the torturing part of her routine. He zoned back into the present  when he heard someone approach him. She was dressed in a skin tight red dress that hugged her curves, and had a flirty look on her face. 

"So- what's a man like you doing at such a 'working class' place like this?" 

Her sickeningly sweet tone made y/b want to vomit, but he hid it well, glancing over at Emily who was across the bar, keeping a close eye on the situation. 

"Well, sometimes I don't mind getting my shoes a little dirty with the 'average person'"

Y/ns voice was flirty, causing him to internally cringe at his own words, hating that he sounded like a yuppie. But hid it and let the unsub continue trying to seduce him. 

"Wel I'd be perfectly happy to help you rub a little mud on those jimmy choos if you like..." 

Y/n almost grimaced, but held back. He threw a glance across the bar to spencer, hoping to reassure him that he was okay. And when they met eyes for a second,   y/n could tell that spencer still wasn’t happy about him being there. Y/n did the best he could to reassure him with his eyes from the other end of the bar, before returning to the conversation with the unsub. She was now starting to get hands y with, and y/n knew she had decided he was going to be her next victim. Eventually she invited him to walk her to her car. 

“after all, i’m a petite woman by myself at night…”

All y/n could think about was the major pick me girl energy radiating off her, but outwardly he just smirked and extended his arm for her to take.

“of course, i could never turn a lady like you down.”

And as the pair made their way to the front door, spencer was the first to lift himself from his seat, following discreetly as if he had received a phone, and needed to leave the bar. Almost immediately after the door swung closed she start feeling y/n up, and spencer could feel a green jealousy boiling in the back of his mind. And. he couldnt help himself from walking slightly closer so he could hear what she was saying to his boyfriend. 

“you know- i dont know if its safe for me to drive, maybe you should drive me back to your place, and we could continue this…”

Y/n smirks, which makes spencer even more jealous, but hold holds back for the good of the case. As the pair approach the unsubs car, she pushes him against the car, kissing him- no, actually it was more like she was eating his face. Now it wasn’t only jealousy coursing through him, but also anger. Not anger like the bright red, passionate, kind, more like a dark maroon simmering in the pit of his stomach, ready to boil over kind. But a warning glance from Rossi and Morgan, who had now joined him in the parking lot while Prentiss updated Hotch, told him to back off. And he did, but he wasn’t sure how long he could hold himself back. Now y/n wasnt enjoying it either, but he just closed his eyes and sucked it up, practically counting the seconds till it would be appropriate to stop kissing having his face eaten, and get in the car. But y/n lost count of the where he was when he felt a hand grasp his neck. He knew later that this is how she had been subduing her victims, as they would already be out of breath from making out with her, and she would have the upper hand. But y/n couldn’t possibly process that. The only words that had been going through his mind as his entire life flashed in front of him were ‘Air. Need air.’ 

And thankfully his wishes were granted when the feeling of hands around his neck vanished, and over the sound of blood rushing in his ears he could hear shouts resembling “FBI Amy Brockett your under the arrest for the murders of James leason, Christian Lanery, and Gregory Poultan!” 

But what grabbed his attention more was when a blurry face with the outline of a mop of brown, curly hair filled his vision- it was spencer. And he himself was now on the ground, coughing. 

As soon as spencer had seen the woman’s hand wrap around y/n’s neck, he bolted across the semi large parking lot with his gun raised. When he arrived he pulled the unsub off y/n with more strength then he knew he had, and threw her onto the ground, looking her dead in the eyes and saying “You ever touch him again, i wont hesitate to shoot you” in a low, almost growl. But what stopped him from turning and tending to his boyfriend who was now crumpled on the pavement, coughing to regain his breath, was a scoff from the woman who was now being handcuffed and read her rights by Morgan. But spencer didn’t care enough about the unsub to send more than a dirty look her way before turning his attention to his boyfriend at the sound of another violent cough. Spencer knelt down, taking y/n’s face in his hand, while the other one dragged lazily up and down  his back, coaching him through the coughing fit. And it was only then that spencer noticed the tears staining y/n’s cheeks.

“Oh angel its ok, im here, you’re ok.”

Y/n released a small hiccup, falling easily into spencers arms. Spencers eyes searched his boyfriends body for any other injuries other then the marks on his neck that were already becoming a maroon-ish purple hue. spencers eyebrows were creased in concern at the marks on his partners necks and when y/n noticed this he tried to reassure him.

“spence- baby im fine, i just needed to catch my breath..” 

even though y/n’s breathing he evened out it was still sounding a little weezy as harshly tried to rub away the tears in his eyes. spencer caught y/n’s in his own, preventing the harsh red skin y/n was leaving behind from rubbing his skin so strongly.

“angel, come on lets go have a paramedic check you out..”

spencer helped y/n up, and only then did he notice how many police cars and ambulances had filled the parking lot with screaming sirens and blaring lights. The couples faces were basked in blue and red light as spencer lead y/n to a paramedic to get checked out. And as y/n sat there, the paramedic poking and prodding- spencer stayed planted next to him, hand in his. 

The End

[sentientgolfball]

A lil scenario fic of sodo and reader having a fun playfight until sodo accidentally hits the reader's jaw with his horns and they start bleeding?? i want some stressed and soft sodo >:]

Oh I very much enjoyed writing this anon. When he gets all soft I LOSE MY MIND HES JUST SO [gunshot]

also i reeeeeally hope you dont mind that i used Dew ok byeee i love you

My requests are open !

“Hey, I was watching that!” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

Dew flopped onto the couch after snatching the remote and changing the channel to who even knows what. You nudged him with your foot hard enough to get his attention. He just swatted your leg with his tail, not even looking at you. You huff in disbelief. 

So it’s going to be like that huh? 

You really had no reason to be bothered by it, you weren’t even watching whatever it was you had on. You were simply using it as background noise while you read, but Dew didn’t need to know that. You knew he only came in to get your attention, but he always did have such a hard time asking for it directly. Usually, you give him the sweet words and touches that he always so desperately wants, but not today. Today you feel like playing his game on his level. 

You nudge him with your foot again, a bit harder this time. He glances at you but doesn’t say anything. You can tell he’s fighting to keep a smile down. You grumble and close your book before getting up and crawling to his side of the couch. You drape yourself over him as a fake-out while you reach for the remote. 

“Not gonna happen,” he said, lifting it above his head “I live with Swiss, you think I haven’t seen the ‘cuddle as a distraction’ move before?” 

“Aw come on, I was here first.” You pathetically reach around him to try and grab it. 

“Yeah, and I was faster.” 

You sigh and flop down as he laughs, still holding the remote out of your reach. He definitely did not care that much about what was on, but you were giving him the reaction he wanted, so it suddenly became his new favorite show. You lay there for a moment sprawled out in his lap trying to come up with a way to steal the remote back. You shifted around trying to get more comfortable causing your hand to brush his abdomen where his gills used to be. He shuddered a bit and that suddenly gave you an idea. You slowly got up to sit on your knees looking at him. He turned to meet your gaze. 

“Can I help you?” 

“You can start by giving me that back.” 

“Damn looks like I can’t help you then.”

“You brought this upon yourself Dewdrop.” 

He looked at you with genuine confusion for a moment before you pounced. It’s no secret that he is ticklish, and right now, that is the only advantage you have over his ghoulish strength. He let out a yelp when he felt your hand press into his abdomen, but soon he was squirming and trying to bat you away while stifling laughter. The movement caused him to drop the remote off the side of the couch with a thunk. You immediately stopped and looked from him to his empty hand before trying to launch yourself past him to grab it. 

“Oh no you don’t you little shit.” 

He wraps his tail around your ankle causing you to fall face-first into the cushions. He lets go only to crawl over you to reach down where the remote dropped. You wrap your arms around his waist to prevent him from going any farther. He struggles in your grip, but you know it's only for show. He could easily move if he wanted to. You use that to your advantage. You push up against him with your whole body. His unstable footing causes him to be pushed backward with relative ease. He lets out a yelp of surprise when you land heavily on top of him from the momentum. 

He gives you his best shit-eating grin “I always did like you on top of me.” He practically purrs out the words before grabbing your wrists and flipping your positions “But I much prefer this.” 

You struggle against his grip, refusing to lose his game. Your eyes dart around trying to find anything you can use as leverage. That’s when an idea pops into your head. 

“Hey, Dew?”

“What? Give up?” 

You shake your head “You may be faster but I’m smarter.” 

You go limp in his grasp causing him to falter. You use that to throw him off of you and onto the floor opposite of the remote. You use the opportunity to scurry over and grab it off the floor with a triumphant ha! Your moment is short-lived, though, when you realize Dew had snaked his way over before popping up in an attempt to grab you. His calculations were a bit off when he jumped up and he ended up hitting you square in the face with his head. You shout and bring your hands to your face rubbing where he hit you. 

“Shit are you okay?” There was still a bit of laughter in his voice. That quickly changes when his nose twitches and you drop your hands. 

“Yeah Yeah, I’m–” You feel it then. The warm liquid running down your face onto your neck. The look in his eyes is everything you need to know, but you can’t help instinctually reaching up to find the spot. Your hand brushes over the cut and you wince from the sting. You pull your fingers back and oh that’s a lot of blood. You look back up at him with a bit of panic and only then do you notice the horn that isn’t broken has blood on the tip. 

“Dew.” 

The shakiness of your voice is all he needs to be snapped out of the trance he was put in. He quickly jumps up and practically throws you over his shoulder with his strength. This only causes the blood to run down your neck faster. He curses under his breath as he carries you to the bathroom. He kicks the door closed before turning on the light. He sets you down on the edge of the bathtub and stares at you for a moment. He then rummages through the cabinets with a little chant of shit, shit, shit looking for the mini first aid kit. You watch him, not really sure what to do or say. You saw how much blood was on your hand, you could feel it running down your face and onto your shirt. You were freaking out just as much as him. 

When he finally finds what he is looking for, he sits on the toilet seat and looks at you with big, sad doe-eyes. 

“I’m so fucking sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was being stupid I’m sorry.” He kept up a string of apologies as he used a wet cloth to clean most of the blood away. You could hear the strain in his voice and see how his hands were shaking slightly. You stare at him willing him to understand you weren’t mad at him in the slightest. You were too scared to talk, though, worried using your jaw might make the bleeding worse. 

When he cleaned enough of the blood away to actually see the wound he put the cloth down and opened the first aid kit. He grabbed a disinfectant wipe and turned to you. He slowly brings it up to your face.

“It’s gonna hurt like hell I am SO sorry.” 

He doesn’t make a move until you nod at him. You can feel his tail wrap around your leg as he takes one of your hands in his free one. You suck in a breath and squeeze his hand when the disinfectant touches the cut. After a moment you start to relax a bit, getting accustomed to the stinging sensation. He sighs in relief, but he doesn’t let go of any part of you. When he’s satisfied, he turns to dump it into the trash and grabs an unnecessarily large band-aid. 

“Oh fuck.” 

The bleeding is just as bad as before. He chews his bottom lip not really sure what to do now. You squeeze his hand and both his tail and his hand tighten their grip. He looks at you for a moment completely lost before something sparks in his ember eyes. 

“Okay don’t freak out…but I have an idea.” 

You tilt your head and quickly realize that was a mistake as you wince. Dew looks like he was punched in the gut. You look at him and nod slightly giving him permission to do whatever it is he thinks may help. He sighs and brings his face extremely close to yours. He looks up at you one more time before tentatively darting his forked tongue over the wound. You had expected it to hurt or string or some other unpleasant sensation, but you were pleasantly surprised to find it actually seemed to lessen the dull throb. When you didn’t pull away from him he took that as his cue to keep going. He applied gentle little kitten licks to the cut until he could no longer taste the blood. He sat back up and looked at you with worry. You carefully reached up to your jaw only to find that where he cut you was sealed. You look at him with confusion written all over your face.

He starts up a small purr “Ghoul things.” He shrugs smiling uncharacteristically sweet. 

You make a move to talk and he holds up a hand.

“Ehh you probably shouldn’t do that yet. It’s closed not healed.” 

You nod at him with grateful eyes. He plops onto the bathroom floor and pulls you into his grasp as his tail snakes around your waist keeping you close. He is purring in full force now and the rumble makes you smile. He presses a few soft kisses on your neck before nuzzling his head against the cheek that wasn’t slashed open. He rubs your back soothingly. 

“‘M sorry. I was just fucking around I didn’t mean to actually hurt you. I can walk you back to your room. I’d understand if you didn’t wanna stay in the den again tonight.” 

The way he spoke like a puppy who was just kicked made your heart clench. Of course, you weren’t mad at him or scared or whatever other horrible things might be swimming around his head. You were just as a part of it as he was. You pull back in his embrace just enough to meet his eyes. You smile, shake your head, and then pepper his face with kisses as a way to show him. He blushes hard when you pull back and squeezes you tighter to him. He opens his mouth to say something but a knock on the door stops him.

“I could smell blood all the way from breakfast, what the hell happened it’s only like 10 am?” Rain’s muffled voice asks with sincere concern. Dew stiffens as his purring comes to an immediate halt. He considered lying for a moment, but he knew it wouldn’t help, Rain already knew something went down. He groaned and threw his head back dramatically. He untangled himself from you and threw open the door. Rain tried to peek around his narrow shoulders, but every time he moved Dew mirrored him to keep you from view until he gave up. 

“Wanna tell me what happened?” He crossed his arms.

“Fine. But don’t tell Cirrus.” 

“Fine” he mimicked “I’ll tell Aether.” He said turning on his heel to go find the ghoul.

“That’s WORSE! Rain!” He hissed and looked between you and the smug water ghoul unable to decide if he should chase him or stay with you. He growled when Rain completely disappeared before taking a breath and turning his attention back towards you. 

“Well, we’re fucked. Any last words before Aeth kills me?” 

~~~

You both sat in the main room of the den as Aether used his magic to properly heal the wound. 

That was an hour ago.

 He had started lecturing you both while he was working, but when he finished and realized he missed the window to fully heal you, he turned the lecture into a lesson on ghoul/human safety. Now he was pacing the room ranting about how if there’s ever an injury to find him or Phantom or Omega right away so scarring doesn’t occur. You had to smack Dew every time he opened his mouth before he spoke to keep him quiet. As entertaining as it may be, you definitely did not want to see Aether attempt to throttle the little fire ghoul. He would just roll his eyes with a grin and lean closer to you. You just smiled down at him and traced the new scar on your jaw while Aether’s voice faded into background noise. All you really caught was something about playing stupid games means getting stupid prizes.

[nattyluvs]

PINK ROSES - chapter 12

felix paces around his living room, double checking every single little thing, nervous out of hid mind.

he didnt even understand, this isnt even thag serious? people came to his house as a child all the time, a few playdates, cousins, family friends, though it was never a girl, or rather, a girl he was starting to like.

he proceeded to walk towards fhe bathroom mirror to check his appearance one more time until he heard the doorbell's ringing. straightening out his shirt a little, he went to go answer the door.

standing at the door was yn, with her outfit a little more comfortable than usual, also sith a backpack strapped to her back. "looking beautiful as always" was in the back of his mind.

"hi yn..um you can put your bag anywhere, but dont take your shoes off because we're going somewhere." he said, gesturing for her to walk a little further into the house.

"oh, okay! where are we going?" she asked, setting her bag down by couch. she took another glance around the apartment-like place, tidy and clean.

"better than my dorm atleast." she thought before turning to felix while he started talking.

"ah, actually i was hoping we could bake some cookies if you dont mind. i need some ingredients though so we have to go to the store." felix spoke, voice muffled a bit due to looking through cabinets.

they walked side by side to the grocery store a few blocks away. it was a little chilly, and they probably could've gone to the campus store but its 10x more expensive.

"i didnt think it was gonna be this cold.." yn suddenly confessed, rubbing her arms a little.

"here,"

felix reached into his pocket and put his hand into hers, handing her two hand warmers.

"i was going to use them when i got cold, but you need them more. it wouldnt be nice to let my guest be cold now would it?" he turned to her and smiled

"right, thank you."

they arrived shortly at the grocery sotre, scanning through the isles and grabbing all sorts of stuff, chocolate chips, sugar, flour.

about to turn into another isle, yn stopped to look at a certain isle corner.

"look they have flowers, im totally gonna buy a bouquet." she pointed out, grabbing the boquet of pink roses on the stand.

"pink roses are my favorite too, actually." felix confessed out of nowhere, making yn smile a bit. he offered to carry the roses for her as they headed into another isle.

hearing a notification from her phons, yn pulled it out of her pant pocket and starting to type.

distracted by her phone, walking and texting had her accidently bump into somebody, making her phone go flying.

hazardly she went to pick up the phone, no damage being done thankfully. she turned to the person bumped into snd gave a quick apology.

"ah, im sorry about tha-huh? taehyun?" suddenly suprised at the man stood infront of her was someone she knew.

"yn? i havent seen you in so long, how are you doing?" taehyun spoke, equally suprised to see someone familar.

their conversation peaked felixs intrest, suddenly not so interested in the types of sugar infront of him.

seeing them talk so openly and freely made him..envious. not jealous, envious. he wished him ans yn could talk so comfortably that way one day.

wait..what? felix never even stopped to wonder why they even know eachother. he was caught up in his thoughts until he heard yns voice talking to jim again.

"sorry felix, we got caught up talking abit, this is taehyun, he goes to witney high with niki, beomgyu, and them you know?" felix failed to notice the way taehyun's eyes lit up at the mention of a certain someone.

"ohh, i see nice to meet you taehyun."

"nice to meet you too felix, so, you guys go to the university across the way?"

"yup" yn responded "were just hanging out you know? wanna relax a little before a bunch of hard studying comes."

"i see, goodluck on your test, study hard."

felix nodded a little, and then started to emternally panic when taehyun leaned down to whisper something in yn's ear. he couldnt figure out what he was saying, or what yn's response was, but he decided not to make anything of it.

after a little more talking, taehyun left while yn and felix left aswell.

on the walk back, felix was entirely confused. were they dating? no, they didnt even kiss and were to awkward with eachother. and what did he even say to her? its not like he could ask, that would just be nosy.

suddenly starting to drop the silence, felix began to speak

"you know, we carry around flowers snd groceries while we walk together people will think we are married." felix's inner thoughts that should have never been said aloud was spoken.

"i hope we do."

"what?"

"nothing, with how old you look people will think youre my dad."

"excuse you? i dont even look that old, youre just playing with me!"

"are you doing anything this weekend?" yn asked, curious as to whether she could stay a bit in the morning or leave as soon as she wakes up.

"not really, i have an audition and an interview for a dance position though" felix said, taking the last batch of cookies out the oven.

"speaking of that, i have something to ask you, and i might aswell ask you since you're here."

yn turned her head, curious to what he could possibly ask related to an interview. she didnt have experience in that kind of thing.

"do..you know how to tie a tie." felix softly spoke, head looking doen in shame.

yn burst out in laughter, "thats it? you dont know how to tie a tie??"

"stop, its not funny, i just never got taught how, my mom always did it for me."

"good thing i happen to know how, put the shirt on so you dont have to put the tie on seperately."

felix nodded, walking away into his room to change into his interview outfit. slowly but surely, he walked out with some nice clothes on and the untied-tie in hand.

"why do you need to dress up for a dancer interview anyway?"

"hey, i may be applying to be a dancer, but its still like a big company, i have to make the impression." felix spoke, handing her the tie.

"makes sense"

she walked closer to where he was standing, tir in hand. she proceeded to wrap the tie under his collar, not realizing how close they were.

after the tie was finished, they both slowly looked up at eachother. felix's eyes couldnt focus on one spot. hn was unable to look away, his gaze capturing her. they stared at eachother so long she couldve counted all his freckles. they finally pulled away after awhile,

"sorry, i zoned out." "me too, dont worry about it."

"hey, i have a spare bed but theres only hardwood floor in here, ur gonna have to sleep in my room."

"no its fine! the hardwood floor isnt gonna be that bad."

"no, you might have back pain in the morning and itll be my fault, here its already set up in my room"

inside felixs room was his bed, with the set up bed on the floor next to it, yn went to the bathroom to put on some pajamas, shortly coming back to lay in the bed.

she sat there on her phone a bit, while felix was turning the lights off and locking the doors.

shortly, he came back to set the phone down on the bed, while starting to strip of his clothes.

"woah, im still in here you know."

"im only taking my shirt off i promise, i cannot sleep with one on."

she wasnt very curious until she took a little perk from her phone screen, seeing felix and his defined abs standing infront of the bed. god damn, holy shit, does this man work out for a living? he cant even carry bags of groceries??

letting those thoughts fly away for now, she put her phone to charge as felix turned the lights off.

"goodnight yn"

"goodnight, lixie"

previous masterlist next

a/n: theyre cute i hope they break up, also sorry for any errors i didnt proofread because im embarassed

taglist open (send a note or click here to be added)

@https-skzology @gwyu0 @skogane @nikisbf @choiakko-3 @llavenderlilacc @starsfly01091711 @jeanbob @neoculturewhat @str4awb3rrym1lkl0v3r @sleeplessmin @beautifulixr @rocking-pebble (bold cannot be tagged check visibility settings)

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 44

Rafe and JJ both saw Pope and John B making their way back to them in Rafe's truck. The sun was starting to set, which they knew would be a good thing considering night fall was best for... things like this.

"Thank god." JJ said with a relieved laugh as he saw the two get out of Rafe's truck.

"Alright, we gotta move quickly. Dont touch the bodies with your bare hands alright? Either your sleeves or whatever gloves we have on hand." Rafe said as he began to pace and think strategy.

"Once the bodies are disposed of then we come back and get the cross." Pope piggy backed off of Rafe's plan.

"This is insane." John B commented as he shook his head still in disbelief.

"Yeah, no shit, JB! But we gotta do this. We have no other option now, alright?" JJ replied as he threw his hands in the air and widened his eyes trying to get the point across. Rafe decided to break the awkward silence of them all contemplating the fact they were really covering up more murders... and not for who they expected.

"I vote we put them in the truck that they came in, that way there's no new finger prints in the truck."

"Good enough for me. All those in favor say I." JJ responded contently with a shrug and a raise of his right hand. John B and Pope just looked at each other and then back at JJ.

"So we're actually a republic now?" Pope sassed as if he had a choice in the matter.

"Ohhhh so we're actually a republic now?" JJ mocked with a contorted face. "Shut up, Pope!" JJ said in a bantering tone. Rafe just rolled his eyes and walked away, as he couldn't take any more of the childlike argument going on. He heard the boys' footsteps indicating they were following after him.

As Rafe walked over to the large box truck that the Limbrey's had brought with them, he couldn't help but glance back over at the three lifeless bodies laying in the doorway of the church, slowly coming to the realization that this is in fact reality. His mind wandered to Jessie, hoping that she was okay, yet he assumed she was a little too okay judging by her demeanor with which he last saw her. He couldn't help but be a little frazzled at how calm she was, yet he was even more perplexed at the fact that he completely understood the feeling... the feeling of doing what you have to do and always justifying the end with the means. He tried to shake it off as he opened up the back door of the box truck but was met with yet another surprise: his baby sister gagged and tied up in the corner of the vehicle. Both their eyes grew wide as they laid eyes on each other, one out of surprise and the other out of pure relief.

"Wheezie!" Rafe snapped as he immediately got in the truck and down on her level to release the gag from her mouth. His little sister looked more than a little relieved to see him, yet she couldn't help but be a little unsure of the situation. "What the hell?" Rafe asked.

"That creepy woman had her goon tie Rose and I both up and drag us to god knows where! What happened, Rafe! I heard gunshots?!" Wheezie exclaimed as she tried to catch her breath. Rafe was untying the knots when the three boys piled in behind him, in just as much shock as he was.

"I don't have time to explain Wheezie, I've gotta get you-"

"What the hell are they doing here?" Wheezie asked genuinely perplexed but also a little disgusted. In her mind, the boys in front of her were still Pogues and she had no clue what all had taken place after her father faked their deaths. Rafe couldn't even begin to fathom all that he would have to explain. Rafe just looked back at the Pogues and gave them a pleading look that said let me do the talking. Thankfully, the boys understood and stood there waiting for Rafe to explain. Rafe had to think of something quick. How much was he going to tell Wheezie? How much did she already know? Shit. Did she know about Jessie? What all does she even remember about Jessie? She was pretty young and in her own little world four years ago when Jessie disappeared. Rafe had to set all that aside and think of something fast.

" T-The gunshots you heard... the first one at least was... Renfield... he shot Rose. And then I shot him and Limbrey." Rafe lied as his blue orbs met the brown ones of his little sister. He hated to lie, but he had done way worse in the name of love. For the sake of time and concern, he had to go with it. The Pogues did too.

" W-what? W-Why?" Wheezie choked out.

" Because... we wouldn't give them what they were after... it's a family heirloom of Pope's family." Rafe whispered a little softer, still trying to help her to her feet at this point and still clearly in a hurry.

" None of this is making sense... how the hell did you get wrapped up in helping the Pogues out with their little treasure hunt? I thought you hated-"

" Things have changed, alright?" Rafe snapped with sharp eyes and a lower tone. He noticed the look of regret on Wheezie's face for asking too many questions and immediately felt remorse. He knew she had just enough time to process this as he did and that certainly wasn't easy. "I'll explain it all later... right now we've gotta get you outta here." Rafe sighed. Wheezie simply nodded her head in reluctant agreement and shuffled her feet to the door, Rafe getting down first to help her out. JJ finally spoke up.

" Rafe, dude. What the hell do we do now?"

As Rafe walked towards his truck with his hand settled on Wheezie's back in comfort, he looked back over his shoulder to see the three boys obviously in a state of valid confusion.

" Load the bodies in the truck. Drive down to low tide. Do not do anything else until I get back, you hear me?" Rafe demanded with a look that showed he meant business. The boys received the message as they slowly backed away.

Rafe and Wheezie both loaded into the truck, an awkward silence falling on them as Rafe drove away. But Wheezie was always one to speak her mind.

" Where the hell are you taking me, Rafe? Where's Sarah? Where's dad?" Wheezie rapid fired questions. Rafe could only come up with one answer as he inhaled deeply, one hand firmly gripping the steering wheel and the other playing with his hair nervously.

" Dad's dead." Rafe said bluntly, yet still with hesitation. Wheezie paused as she looked at Rafe not believing his words.

" What?" Wheezie whispered as she began to shake her head. "What? There's no way, he was coming to-"

" He told you he was coming to get me right? He lied, Wheeze. He came to threaten me... and my family."

"... your family? Rafe, what are you talking about?" Wheezie asked through squinted eyes, almost thinking this was some sort of exaggeration or a joke. Rafe glanced over at Wheezie with his bottom lip in between his teeth, clearly trying to form the right words.

" I- I- uh... h-have a daughter." Rafe choked out nervously, sparing one more glance at his youngest sister.

" Y-you what?!"

" I have a daughter." Rafe reiterated shaking his head somewhat confidently to try and convince the girl it was true.

" Rafe, I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not some kid you can bullshit any-"

" I'm not bullshitting you, alright?!" Rafe yelled as he slammed his fist on the center console, letting his frustration take over. Wheezie winced and backed further into the passenger side, if that was even possible. Rafe took notice of her sudden fear, quickly regaining composure but still wildly unpredictable in Wheezie's eyes.

" Wheezie... I have a daughter." Rafe uttered shakily, not bringing himself to look his sister in the face when he said it. It's not that he was ashamed or even embarrassed, he just couldn't take seeing any more hurt and confusion flash across Wheezie's face, knowing how much she was taking in.

"W-With who?"

Ah, the question of the hour. Rafe hesitated once more before he uttered the answer.

"Jessie." He simply stated with a deep exhale of the apparent breath he was holding in. Wheezie took notice of his clenched jaw and white knuckles when he answered. She began connecting the dots, but still didn't have even close to enough information to do it successfully.

"Wait... Jessie Maybank? I thought you hadn't seen her in years?!" Wheezie asked utterly dumbfounded.

"Four years." Rafe said matter of factly with a nod of his head seeing how the whole story was finally being pieced together. "She-... we have a three and half year old."

"So Jessie left you because she was pregnant?" Wheezie spat with venom in her voice. "What a bitch! I knew dad was right about her-"

"She left because I didn't have my shit together, alright?" Rafe seethed, hating that Ward, even in his death, had been so successful in convincing Wheezie of something that couldn't be further from the truth. "She had every right to leave, Wheezie. You were too young to remember but, trust me... she did what she had to do." Rafe trailed off as he looked back at the road and swallowed the lump in his throat. Wheezie could tell whatever thoughts Rafe was having struck a nerve, as he visibly looked sadder just by talking about it. She decided to allow a few moments of pause, to allow Rafe a moment to calm down, but also for her to collect all the information she just gathered so abruptly.

"So... how does this all tie into you... killing dad?" Wheezie asked with so much caution in her voice it hurt Rafe. He knew Wheezie was dealing with so much at the moment and yet she still had enough self awareness to try and not push his buttons, he figured it must've come from years of Wheezie watching family drama unfold and knowing just the perfect time to slip in and slip out unscathed. He couldn't help but feel bad for her, still he managed to answer the question.

"Ward came back to take the business from me, and he told me that if I wanted to still be apart of Cameron enterprise that I had to give up Jessie... and Charley." Rafe could tell Wheezie was still not able to get the full picture. "Jessie came back in the picture just a couple weeks ago, she was trying to steal the gold back for the pogues and we ended up back together. Then she told me about Charley and... it's all just kinda fallen into place since then."

"You call this falling into place?" Wheezie scoffed with a role of her eyes. "Jessie didn't even tell you that you had a kid until four years later? And she only came back to steal from you? Pft, Rafe, do you not see-"

"Wheezie." Rafe interrupted with his hand up in the air, he balled it into a fist trying to calm himself down and prevent slamming his hand against the center console again. "I need you to hear me one more time and listen good. You wanna act like an adult and deal with adult shit? Here's your chance. You're coming in on the back half of all this not even knowing half of the shit that Jessie, myself, and the pogues went through to get here, alright? So don't come in here acting like you know everything because I promise you, you don't. So just take it all in and listen to what we say because at this point we're all under a lot of stress right now. Got it?"

Wheezie looked like she was about to burst into tears. Rafe hated that he put it so bluntly, but at that point he felt like he had to. After all, he was sick and tired of all the opposition he was facing. If it wasn't the pogues praying on his downfall, it was his father trying to breakup his very fragile relationship, and if it wasn't that, then it was Jessie and Rafe trying to figure out where they stood, and if it wasn't that then it was the business and... Rafe just couldn't take it anymore. Still, he noticed the effect of his words, and couldn't help but think what would have happened if he had spoken to his own daughter that way. He was filled with even more remorse.

"Hey... kid." Rafe whispered as he looked over at his sister, who was now sniffling and looked out the window. "You don't have to look at me but... I want you to know that I'm glad you're back. I'm sorry I snapped. I know it's a lot for you to take in... just trust me, alright?"

Wheezie didn't say a word, she only crossed her arms and folded her legs closer to the passenger side door with a few more sniffles. The silent treatment, god, she reminded him so much of Jessie in a funny way: both of them trailblazers yet always willing to go silent right when it was the least convenient for everyone else. Rafe had to brush it off as they pulled into the drive of JJ's house. He put the truck in park, but neither one of them moved.

"You're about to walk in here and see people that you never thought you'd see again. Sarah, Kie... Jessie... and you're gonna meet your niece." Rafe said softly as he played with Wheezie's hair. She finally turned her tear stained face to look at her brother. "And you're gonna be okay. We've got you.... I've got you Wheeze."

Rafe truly meant that. Wheezie was his now, he knew that. Wheezie nodded her head as her lips quivered holding back tears. Rafe noticed and simply pulled Wheezie's head into his chest as she let out a few sobs. Once she had collected herself, they walked up to the front porch, to be met with Sarah barreling out of the screen door. Sarah couldn't believe her eyes, her mouth hung open in unbelief.

"W-Wheezie?" Sarah choked out as her lips quivered, looking back and forth between her two siblings. She was careful not to blink, thinking that if she did the sight in front of her would vanish.

"Sarah." Her little sister whispered with tears in her eyes as she embraced in a long overdue hug.

Rafe noticed that Kiara had already made her way out the door as well, but he paid special attention to his wife, who seemed to almost strut out of the house without a care in the world. Her posture was poor and her face looked anything but concerned. However, she was most certainly surprised at the sight in front of her. Jessie and Wheezie locked eyes on each other right at the same time, Wheezie slowly disengaging from the hug and noticing Jessie's every feature. She hadn't changed a bit, still displaying that effortless arrogance in the way she walked and talked.

"J-Jessie." Wheezie called out as she slowly made her way up the porch. Jessie's face changed from one of surprise to one of sympathy as she admired the now teenager in front of her. Jessie couldn't ignore how much she'd changed.

"Hey, kid." Jessie spoke up with a half smile. "It's good to see ya again. I'm glad you're okay." Jessie whispered as she looked over to her husband who was still planted in the yard.

"We need to talk." Rafe exclaimed matter of factly. "And I don't have much time. Wheezie, can you please go inside?"

Wheezie was clearly disappointed, but nodded her head with sunken shoulders as she sulked in the house.

"Where the hell did she come from?" Kiara asked.

"I found her in the back of the truck tied up and gagged."

"Oh my god." Sarah replied in horror. Jessie and Kie displayed similar looks on their faces.

"Those bitches!" Jessie said with more conviction and anger. Rafe dismissed it, knowing that time was valuable.

"She asked what the gunshots were about. I told her that Renfield shot Rose when we didn't give them the cross and that I shot Renfield and Limbrey after that." Rafe explained that last part hesitantly as he looked at his wife. Jessie just returned the look with one that said really?

"You lied to her?" Sarah asked with hurt laced in her voice.

"Yes. That's exactly what I did." Rafe spat, with determination evident in his voice. "And that's exactly what everyone else is going to do too until we think she's ready to hear the truth. She knows about dad. She knows about Jessie. She knows about Charley. And that's where we're leaving it for her sake, okay?"

Everyone, even Jessie, nodded in agreement, knowing where Rafe was coming from. Wheezie had undoubtedly had a long, traumatic day, and didn't need more mental turmoil trying to decipher the actions of her long lost sister in law that she didn't even know she had. Rafe breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I've gotta get back to the boys. They're still there with the truck and the bodies-"

"You guys haven't taken care of this yet?" Jessie seethed, now suddenly angry. Rafe was more than happy to reciprocate the same attitude.

"No, Jessie, we haven't! I was a little busy making sure my sister wasn't even more traumatized than she already was! I brought her back here and now I'm going back to clean up your mess!" Rafe regretted the way he phrased that sentence immediately. Jessie just fell silent and pursed her lips, nodding her head.

"Alright, fine. Well then allow me to clean up my own mess!" Jessie yelled back as she walked backwards into the house. "Stay here, I'm grabbing my coat."

"No, Jessie, you're insane-" Rafe insisted but was of course interrupted by the incessant woman in front of him.

"Shut up, Rafe! I'm coming with you! Charley's asleep for the night and I'm gonna fix this once and for all!"

Kiara, Sarah, and Rafe all looked at each other with confusion, waiting to see who was going to say something, knowing also that none of them could actually change Jessie's mind. A few moments later and Jessie was back outside, dawning a leather jacket and flipping a zippo lighter in between her fingers with a numb but determined look on her face. She strutted right past her husband.

"Jessie, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Handling my shit... like I always have. You think I made such a big mistake doing what I did then don't bother coming to help me. I can do it myself." Jessie declared with an alarmingly calm demeanor in her voice, not even bothering to look back at Rafe. She got on her brother's bike and revved the engine, clearly showing she was not interested in getting any help from Rafe, not even a ride.

"Jessie, I swear, you better not-"

Rafe couldn't even finish his sentence before the overwhelmingly loud rev of the bike deafened his ears. Jessie locked her sharp gaze onto Rafe as she revved the bike, sending a clear message that she was in fact doing this and she was not going to need any help. Rafe's face lit up with pure rage... but so did Jessie's, neither one of them scared of each other in the moment.

With no more words needing to be said, the line was drawn in the sand and Jessie sped off.

"Shit." Rafe muttered under his breath as he ran back to his truck, started the engine, and sped off trying to catch up to her, but knowing he never would.

Jessie took every winding curve in stride, drifting straight and wide to avoid slowing down, not caring if someone was on the other side of the road coming to meet her head on. Jessie hadn't been this reckless since before she had Charley, but a switch had flipped in her brain that she couldn't quite comprehend... but she didn't care to try and make it make sense either. All she cared about was putting this whole thing to rest so she and her family could move on for good, but she didn't mind trying to prove a point in the mean time.

Jessie's racing thoughts came to a halt as she pulled up to the rickety church once more to find the three boys hulled up against the back of the truck, the moonlight being the only thing that illuminated them. The boys heard Jessie coming from a mile away, but were still shocked when they saw her. They were mainly shocked at her visibly reckless state. Here she was riding a motorcycle without a helmet, way too fast, and dawning her coveted Manhattan Mayhem leather jacket on. She looked straight out of a movie, and not in a good way. She looked like a bat out of hell. It was a familiar sight for the boys, making it all the more disturbing.

Jessie quickly got off the bike, not bothering to acknowledge the visibly shaken boys in front of her. JJ didn't let her get very far before he spoke up.

"Woah, woah, woah, Jessie, what're you doing?" JJ asked frantically as he walked with Jessie, who was now heading over to the driver side of the large truck.

"Getting rid of the evidence, what do you think I'm doing?" Jessie sassed without so much as a glance to her brother as she opened up the door and began to climb inside.

"Where the hell is Rafe?" John B asked as he followed along as well.

"If I had to guess he's probably trying to catch up to me." Jessie laughed as she plopped down in the driver seat and closed the door.

"Wait wait wait, Jessie, you can't just leave without us? What the hell do you think you're doing? Rafe said he would handle-" JJ argued, but was of course interrupted.

"Rafe can't handle shit! That's why I'm here! So you're either gonna get in or get lost but I can do this by myself!" Jessie spat. She couldn't even finish her sentence before all four of them heard the exhaust from Rafe's truck speeding through the church yard and coming to a screeching halt. Jessie took the moment that the boys were distracted to start the truck and begin to drive away.

"Woah woah woah, Jessie, stop!" JJ yelled, still confused as to what was going on but now more angry than anything. Once JJ realized Jessie clearly wasn't going to stop, he walked right over to Rafe with determination. Rafe got out of the truck quickly, initially trying to catch his wife, but inevitably missing her just in time.

"What the hell man?" JJ asked as he threw up his hands in defeat.

"Your girl has gone batshit!" Pope yelled.

"Yeah, no shit, alright?" Rafe answered with just as much anger. "Just get in the truck we'll follow her."

The boys didn't have time to argue. There really wasn't much to argue over. None of them could say they were surprised by Jessie's behavior.

"What happened?" JJ asked frantically as he tugged on his hair and leaned against the passenger side door of the truck while Rafe drove to catch up to his wife.

"She got mad that I brought Wheezie back instead of getting this shit done and I got mad at her and told her that she got us into this mess in the first place, then she got mad at me again and next thing I knew I was chasing her all the way back over here." Rafe answered just as frazzled, now sounding a little more defeated.

"This is what I meant by needing to keep each other in check, dude!" JJ screamed as he hit the dash, clearly angry at... well just about everyone at this point.

"Now's not the time JJ!" Rafe growled right back.

"What the hell is she gonna do?" Pope asked with a tinge of fear in his tone. An ominous silence fell over the tension. Nobody really knew the answer to that question.

"Well, are we just gonna follow her there like lost puppies or are we gonna like slash her tires or some shit?" JJ asked with frantic sarcasm. They all just rolled their eyes in response.

"I'll deal with her when we get there... wherever that is." Rafe answered numbly as he gripped the steering wheel trying to come up with a sliver of a plan in his head. The four of them did have to admit it was a little awkward following Jessie, feeling like she was walking them like dogs to wherever she wanted to do whatever she damn well pleased. But they had no other option.

Jessie finally led them to a screeching halt as she was met with the muddy, flooded marsh in front of her. She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and narrowed her eyes as she took a deep breath knowing exactly what she was about to do.

The boys behind her on the other hand, had no clue what to do. Do they get out and run up to her? Do they keep following her? They knew there was no way she was getting through the marsh, as the mud was like peanut butter. They all looked around at each other silently begging for someone to do something. But before anyone could, they heard the boisterous rev of the truck engine and the slight squeal of the tires as they watched Jessie trudge forward.

"Shit, shit, shit dude!" JJ screamed as he pointed in front of him, actual articulate sentences being impossible to find for all of them.

"Go after her dude!" John B demanded as he looked at Rafe and gestured towards the scene in front of him.

"And do what? Huh? Get stuck?! That's exactly what she's about to do!" Rafe retorted with furrowed brows and angry eyes. They all watched as Jessie did just that. The only thing that surprised them was that although she had stopped, she kept spinning her tires and slamming on the gas.

"Is she... seriously trying to get out of that?" Pope asked. Suddenly JJ realized what she was doing.

"No." JJ whispered plainly with wide eyes as he watched the scene unfold. He almost laughed, knowing that Jessie was deliberately trying to get into some deep shit.

Jessie kept revving the engine as she drives the tires deeper into the ground. She stopped once the mud hit the bottom of her door. Once the job was done, she swung the door open and got out, trudging her way out of the thick mess.

The boys took that as their cue to meet her halfway, all of them piling out and walking frantically towards her.

"What the hell are you doing, Jessie? Have you lost your damn mind?" Rafe asked. JJ began to chime in.

"Yeah, who are you to think you can go rogue on us now, huh?"

Jessie dismissed the slew of discourse and simply shook her head and sighed as she trudges along to the back of the truck. She used what strength she had left to swing the door open, revealing the bodies she expected to be there. She grabbed the rope that was used to tie Wheezie up less than an hour ago. Thankfully it was just long enough for what she needed it for.

"Oh what now you think we're just gonna play in the mud and try and pull this shit out? Are you crazy?!" JJ asked almost through laughter, thinking his sister couldn't be serious. Jessie couldn't stand the doubt anymore, finally looking back at the boys.

"You know what, guys? I've done way worse than what I'm about to do right now, okay?" Jessie seethed, immediately going back to what she was doing beforehand. The guys didn't know what that meant, but Jessie couldn't forget the horrors she had to be apart of to even become apart of the Manhattan Mayhem. Frankly, this was nothing to her.

Jessie made her way to the side of the truck, reaching down into the mud and feeling around, eventually finding what she was looking for.

"Aha!" She said with a smile on her face as the boys watched her pull a gas cap from underneath the mud. Jessie threw the cap their way, making sure it landed right at their feet. She put her hand back under the muddy mess and threaded the rope inside the gas tank. She then guided the rope slowly out of the mud pit and set it on the ground.

"You guys might wanna stand back... and back the truck up." Jessie said calmly with her back towards the boys. They still had no clue what she was about to do until they saw her pull her zippo lighter out of the back pocket of her ripped jean shorts.

"Oh shit." JJ said as he scrambled back to the truck, the boys following suit... even Rafe.

Jessie flipped the cold metal in between her fingers, giving it a quick flip to open the cap and reveal a perfect flame. She then reached back in her pocket to reveal a perfectly sculpted brown stick of marijuana. She brought it up to her eyes and admired it in the moonlight. She then put the joint between her lips ever so delicately and lit the top of it with the flame of her lighter. She took one drag and was transported even further to the girl she once was, suddenly even more able to justify her previous and current actions.

With that, she bent down towards the ground, lit the end of the rope on fire and calmly walked back to the truck with the smoke between her lips. The boys couldn't believe their eyes as they watched her prop herself on the front of the truck, take another hit and watch contently as the truck in front of her exploded and went up in flames. The boys flinched at the sudden loud sound, Jessie didn't.

Rafe watched from the drivers side as he propped his arm out of the open window, nervously watching his wife crumble right in front of him... not physically, but mentally. The exterior showed a stone cold woman who was determined to protect her peace, but Rafe knew the inside of her heart and mind was pure turmoil.

JJ saw the same chaotic look in Jessie's eyes, despite being expertly masked by her calm, cool, and calculated movements.

Jessie also felt the chaos rush back into her body, so familiar to her it was as if it never left. The chaos was all she had ever known, so she was oddly used to it even after years of not experiencing it in full. Jessie watched contently as the flames billowed higher and higher, creating a glorious furnace that warmed her in the cold night air.

The boys weren't quite sure how long to sit there before saying something, yet none of them were brave enough to tell her it was time to go.

Finally, Jessie kicked herself off of the front end once she was left with nothing but the end of her blunt, mindlessly flicking it in the flames in front of her and silently walking back to the passenger side of the truck. Jessie locked eyes with JJ.

"You're in my seat." She said numbly with an intimidating roll of her head.

JJ didn't have a response, instead he sighed and stepped out of the vehicle and went to the back like he had lost the same argument for the front seat that he did when he was younger. He always hated that Jessie got to ride shotgun, but now, the sting was even worse. Rafe only sighed and shook his head, not believing the absolute bitch his wife was being. He shouldn't be so shocked considering he knew what she was capable of better than anyone here, yet he was. Rafe knew Jessie had a talent for turning off her emotions in one second and deciding just exactly when she would turn them back on.

Rafe backed out of the scene and eventually turned around to drive back to the church to pick up Jessie- no, JJ's- bike and the cross of course. Not a word was said until Jessie finally spoke up.

"So now we can go to Yukatan." Jessie said smugly as she looked around at the boys, looking for a sign of relief or even amusement.

[underratedandoverit]

when they find out

~4,9k orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)

tbh the idea of this was entirely based around the idea of the first part cause i really wanted to write kip and chuck interacting, and then it just kinda grew from there. also that ending literally came to me in the middle of writing this, sssoooo thats. a thing. we're gonna do something with later on im sure, i have a lot to project lol. but yeah enjoy ace!oc, i was trying my best this is my first attempt at but this the agenda is strong in me 💜 (also if it isnt obvious, the second part takes place six months after the first one aksndjkansd)

warnings for shades of aphobia. also kip says fuck a few times cause he always does dont look at me

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate

on ao3

----------------------------

Taking in a deep breath, Kip lifted his hand up, giving the hotel room door a knock. Something in him told him though that he maybe shouldn’t be here, but against all the advice in his mind there he was standing. Looking for answers that Kip was sure he could have gotten some much, much easier way.

It took a while, but after the second knock the door finally opened up, revealing a very surprised looking Chuck standing behind it. He quickly scanned Kip up and down, clearly confused why the Brit was standing there, behind his door at this kind of an hour of the morning, obviously wanting something from him.

“Kip? What--?”

“Can I come in?” Chuck obviously wasn’t a fan of being cut off, but the obvious nervousness in Kip gave him a free pass in this situation. The man scanned the hallway around him up and down, almost as if he was afraid of being caught in the act of standing there.

“What do you need?” Chuck leaned on the door frame, arms crossing over his chest as he watched Kip shift weight from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact with him. This wasn’t the type of a guest Chuck would usually get, but something in this really didn’t surprise him though – he was aware of the way Kip and Cassidy had grown closer in recent times, much to both his surprise and annoyance. For various reasons, their former taunting feud he had also been somewhat a part of being one of them.

“It’s, uh…” Kip finally glanced directly at Chuck, but almost as fast turned away. Chuck was sure there was a faint shade of pink crossing his cheeks, and it wasn’t just the terrible lighting of the hallway playing tricks on his eyes. “It’s about Clem-- Orange. It’s about Orange.”

Chuck’s brows furrowed a bit. He wasn’t really surprised that this was the reason Kip was here if he was being honest, but him being so straightforward and almost blunt about it with him caught him slightly off guard. He stepped back a bit though, motioning Kip inside the room. He could at least hear him out, seeing that Kip was here already.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Kip nodded as a thanks as he passed Chuck in the doorway, slipping inside the hotel room. Thankfully Chuck was here alone, though both beds being messy was giving Kip signs that he was on a time limit here. Whichever of the other Best Friends was rooming with him had to be out at the moment, and who knew when he was coming back. Kip had really hoped that he had just a good, calm moment to talk with Chuck about all of this, but now all of this was just making him nervous.

But he couldn’t fuck this up, this was too important for him to do that.

“So what’s up? What about Orange?”

Kip jumped a little as Chuck’s voice reached his ears, making him turn towards him as Chuck walked deeper into the room after him before taking a seat at the edge of one of the beds. Kip didn’t follow his example and instead remained standing, nervous hands rubbing together as he was trying to put the words in his mind in some sensible order.

“I, uh… I-I was just wondering…”

Kip’s voice drifted off, the man clearly being very nervous about this. Chuck just looked at him, remaining silent. On one hand he wanted to push Kip into actually talking about what he came here for, already being annoyed that he was spending even this much time alone with the Brit, especially without knowing his intentions. But a part of Chuck was telling him that if he did that, Kip would have an even harder time to form a coherent sentence and thus frustrate him even further. Either or, they were going to be here for a while, Chuck could tell that much.

“You-you’re, like, his best friend, right?”

Chuck nodded slowly, observing Kip’s nervous hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie, the platinum haired man swinging back and forth a bit on his feet as he scanned the room around the two of them again, mostly just to avoid looking directly at Chuck after getting the confirming gesture back from him. “So you would know if he, like…”

Kip’s words drifted off again as he lowered his head a bit, the last words disappearing into an inaudible whisper. Chuck raised a brow at him, leaning a bit closer to him on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry, if he what?”

Kip glanced towards him from under his brows, meeting Chuck’s expectant look for the first time since stepping inside the room. Kip sighed heavily, hand pulling from the hoodie pocket as he ran it through his hair slowly as he raised his head back up, clearly trying to pull himself together.

“You… You would know if he… Liked me. Like… Like liked me.”

Oh. Oh so that’s why he was so nervous about this.

Chuck crossed his arms over his chest, pondering his question over. Kip was visibly fidgeting with almost his whole body right there in front of him, clearly nervous about the possible answer he was going to get, only breaking the silence with his own voice as it was growing a bit too long for his liking as Chuck took his sweet time answering back to him.

“Because I like him. Like, a lot. But I can’t just… Ask him that. We can just be friends if he doesn’t like me, I don’t care, but I don’t want to ask him.”

Chuck nodded, in deep thought.

“So I thought maybe if… The feeling is mutual, like I feel it might be, he would have talked to his friends about it. And you’re his friend, so I thought… Maybe?”

Chuck nodded again, running a hand over his face. He wasn’t prepared to be put in this spot today, especially first thing in the morning, but since the situation was at hand and Kip was standing right there… Well, his options were rather limited. And Chuck had a feeling that despite what Kip was saying, he was going to be too stubborn to do what he wanted anyway, no matter what Chuck told him, so he might as well be honest about it.

“Orange may have mentioned you a few times, yeah.”

Kip noticeably perked up, his eyes lighting up in a way Chuck had only seen from him before he was about to deliver a well written evil monologue. A look he didn’t like, for obvious reasons, but Chuck pushed that thought aside for now.

“He has mentioned that he thinks you like him. According to him you’re really bad at hiding it.”

The faint blush was on Kip’s face again as the Brit turned slightly away from him, it being fairly obvious that Cassidy was correct. Though to be honest, Kip wasn’t really even trying to hide it to begin with. There was a reason he was here today, asking these questions from Chuck instead of going straight to Cassidy himself, as he just wanted to be sure. Kip had already done a lot trying to drive home the point that he might have feelings for the man in denim, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise if Cassidy already knew. And yet, it still caught him slightly off guard.

“Has he now…” Kip muttered, hand running through his hair again.

“Orange also said he thinks it’s kind of adorable, for what that’s worth for you.”

Kip nodded, glancing towards Chuck. “So… So that’s basically a yes?”

Chuck shrugged a little. “Well, he has never explicitly said it, but if you think so then sure, I guess it is.”

He had no reason to lie to Kip, really. There were only two reasons he would, and one of them was that Chuck was just worried that he would have to tolerate Kip even more if Cassidy started dragging him along to group activities if they started dating. Which was probably fine, but Chuck just didn’t really want that, them not being entirely on the same page with Kip most of the time, if he was being honest.

The other reason, however…

“But,” Chuck started, watching as the smile that had started to form on Kip’s face suddenly froze, his eyes widening at the dreaded word that he wasn’t prepared to hear after such good news. “There is something you should know.”

“I’m not afraid of you if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed a little, him shaking his head. “What, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean I will kick your ass if you hurt Orange, obviously.”

Chuck sighed a little, the confusion overtaking Kip not coming to him as a surprise at all. “But there is… A side to Orange. Well, a side to dating Orange. There are some important things you should know, like… The kind of relationship you shouldn’t expect out of this.”

Before Kip could ask him to elaborate on such a cryptic statement, they were interrupted as the hotel room door clicked open, Trent stepping in, basically killing the conversation on its tracks immediately. He glanced between Chuck and Kip for a moment, clearly confused, before Kip took it as his sign to leave them alone as Chuck obviously wasn’t going to keep on going with this conversation now that they had more company in the room.

--------------------------

“Happy six months,” Kip smiled, lifting up the champagne glass in his hand, Cassidy following his example to clink the glasses together. The setup they had put together to dine in the hotel room felt silly under such meaningful circumstances, but neither of them really minded it.

Leaning over the little makeshift table between the two beds, Cassidy pressed a little kiss on Kip’s lips. The Brit accepted it with a smile, kissing him back before Cassidy settled back in his seat at the edge of the second bed. They had planned on going out tonight, but the heavy rain had caught them both off guard on their way back to the hotel after the show, so they had just opted to stay in and order food instead. Of course it wasn’t even nearly as glamorous or romantic as what they originally had planned, but that didn’t matter. Sure it was an anniversary dinner, but it didn’t matter where or what it was, as long as they were able to have it together as a form of celebration tonight.

But Cassidy had to admit, there was some kind of nervous energy in the air tonight. Maybe it was the expectations put on such an important occasion, maybe it was the way Kip said it was still fine that they dined in the hotel room despite him really wanting to take Cassidy somewhere much fancier, and he was just disappointed and trying to make up for it now. He wasn’t sure, but there was something lingering around him that made him feel like something was expected out of tonight.

Something he was rather terrified of, if he was being quite honest.

The dinner proceeded without an issue, the two chatting it away like any other date, both maybe being a bit sweeter to one another than usual. It was an anniversary dinner after all, putting both of them in a certain kind of atmosphere. The smiles were extra warm tonight, the pet names were plenty, it even got to the point of desserts literally being fed to one another after the main course was done as they moved up to cuddle in the same bed.

Cassidy couldn’t help but laugh seeing Kip get whipped cream on his face, making the other man retaliate by smearing some on his lips before pulling Cassidy into a kiss to clean it off. Being held there, in Kip’s arms tightly, all warm and safe, Cassidy let himself melt against the kiss, allowing it to deepen into a more passionate one laced with the sweetness of the strawberry shortcake they had been making a mess with. After a moment Kip pulled apart first, allowing them both to catch their breath.

“I can’t believe I’ve had you for six months already.” Kip’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, in complete awe as he cupped both sides of Cassidy’s face with his hands, his thumbs carefully caressing his cheeks. “I’ve never been this lucky in my life.”

Cassidy smiled back at him, arms wrapping around him as he pulled Kip closer. He wanted this moment to last as long as possible, seeing the genuine admiration on Kip’s face just made him want to kiss him more. While he had heard those words before, multiple times from several people, none of them hit him quite like they did coming from this particular man. Cassidy wasn’t entirely sure why, but they felt so genuine to him, coming from Kip.

Maybe that was part of the reason why the air occasionally felt so heavy and expectant to him, because all of this felt so genuine and good, it had to build up to something. Something that Cassidy wasn’t sure he was ready for tonight.

His eyes glanced away from Kip for a second in a moment of hesitation over all of this as the thoughts crossed his mind, a feat that Kip didn’t miss. His brows immediately furrowed as concern took over his face, despite the smile that Cassidy kept on in hopes to masquerade his true feelings. He should have known Kip wasn’t so easily fooled.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

He wanted to wince at the pet name so badly, but Cassidy couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he sat there with a smile, trying to hide the sudden sadness in his eyes with a shake of his head.

“It’s nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“You are such a terrible liar.” Kip shook his head at him, pulling Cassidy closer to press another soft little kiss on his lips. He pulled away before Cassidy could reply to it though, Kip’s hands slipping from his face to his shoulders, resting there as his hands locked up behind his neck. “Be honest with me.”

Cassidy knew this wasn’t the time or the place he wanted to have this conversation, but at the same time he was aware that if he didn’t talk about this now, certain events would transpire. He just wasn’t sure which one was going to be the worst outcome, leaving him just sitting there in silence, eyes falling down to his lap as Kip seemed to grow more and more expectant as the seconds ticked by.

“Clemen--”

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Kip was visibly taken aback by his words, him just silently watching as Cassidy carefully untangled Kip’s arms from around him, gently lowering them down to the other man’s lap instead. The confusion in the Brit was obvious, but he remained quiet, watching the clear nervousness now taking over Cassidy in the form of shaky hands and deep breaths he was taking, now that the words were finally slipping out of him.

“I don’t understand.” Kip’s voice was very quiet, the concern in it obvious at the mood that had changed so drastically so suddenly. Cassidy didn’t dare to look back at him, he just kept observing Kip’s hands that he had never let go of after putting them down. He could feel his own hands shaking, almost afraid of trying to calm them down in case he ended up hurting Kip, digging his nails into his hands or something. But that wasn’t the kind of hurting he was talking about, no this went deeper than just the physical side of things.

Or, well… Maybe there was some sort of physicality involved. Or the lack thereof.

“Nothing you could do could hurt me. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Cassidy bit his lip, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fight his way out of this corner he had effectively put himself into, allowing himself to have a very small moment of insecurity in the middle of one of the best nights of his life. If that moment, even without revealing it straight to Kip what it was, was causing this much disturbance on such a night like this, there was no telling what him actually telling Kip anything was going to cause.

“Talk to me.” Kip was almost pleading with him at this point, carefully taking control of his hands again as Cassidy allowed him to remove one from his grasp. Kip gently reached for his face, fingers carefully pressing under his chin, lifting his face up. It felt terribly forced for Cassidy to follow his lead, but he did it anyway, regretting it almost immediately as he saw Kip’s eyes dimming a little bit at the sight of obvious distress on his boyfriend’s face. “Please.”

His body was working faster than his mind, Cassidy not being in control of himself as he leaned closer to Kip again, pressing a kiss on his lips. It took the other man a second to respond to him, but as Cassidy didn’t immediately pull away, Kip allowed himself to enjoy the brief kiss. As Cassidy broke it apart shortly afterwards, he stayed close to Kip’s face, observing every inch of it carefully as he was trying to still form some sort of coherent sentence in his mind.

He knew there were expectations for tonight. It had been six months since they started dating, and in all that time it had been nothing but this; the cuddles, the kisses, the hand holding. Holding each other, close comfort with one another, all the fluff. Getting this far without the other party pushing for more was a miracle for Cassidy, if he was being honest. So obviously now that it had been half a year, and nothing of that sort had happened, it was coming down to this.

And unfortunately it fell on Cassidy to either tell him the truth, or go through with the things he absolutely did not want to. Either way, it was going to hurt someone tonight.

“I…”

He just had to be brave. Let out those words. He was used to it, telling people what he felt like, what he didn’t want, and them upping and leaving him. That was what was making this so hard for Cassidy to deal with, the fact that he was stuck in this loop, this time with someone he was so afraid to lose, someone who he didn’t want to leave. None of the previous times had been easy either, obviously, but with Kip it felt different.

With Kip everything felt good, it felt nice. Cassidy could enjoy the casual forms of intimacy with him, he could do so much more without feeling any pressure to the one side they had somehow managed to push aside for so long. Everything felt natural and enjoyable with Kip, nothing was forced.

“I can’t do it.”

Kip blinked at him, trying to decipher the words into meaning something specific to him. “Do… Do what?”

Cassidy leaned slightly back, giving himself space to motion a bit between the two of them. “It. This. That. Whatever. I don’t…”

His words drifted off, finding it so hard to verbalize his feelings. For someone that had been in this position multiple times before, it was surprisingly hard for Cassidy to express what he felt. He blamed it on the fact that this was Kip, someone he absolutely could not afford to lose, that this was so hard for him as Cassidy was afraid that what he might say would hurt him.

“Babe, you’re not making any sense, I don’t understand you.”

Cassidy wanted to scream so badly, Kip bringing up points he already knew. This man wasn’t dumb by any means, Cassidy knew that, but sometimes he wished Kip was as good at reading social cues as he was pretending to be in front of the camera. He was sure Kip could feel the tension tonight as well, the nervous energy, the pressure to somehow keep things going, to keep them meaningful after the six months point forwards. Kip had shown enough affection to him tonight that Cassidy was sure he was very well aware where he wanted things to go.

“I can’t…”

He was hesitant, but Cassidy knew he had to put it out there. It was going to hurt someone’s feelings, but he hoped it was just his own tonight.

“I can’t have sex with you.”

Kip looked at him, almost stunned to silence. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this, the confusion growing obvious on his face with every passing silent second they allowed to linger around the two of them.

“I just can’t. Not tonight. Not… Not ever. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry, I--”

“Where did that come from?” Cassidy didn’t dare to look at him, having gone through this conversation enough times before that he knew there was going to be nothing but ridicule to follow that question. And he couldn’t take it, not tonight, not from Kip of all people. “Where… Where did you get the idea we were gonna do that tonight?”

He glanced carefully up at Kip, puzzled by the odd question, receiving a similarly questioning look back from the other man. Kip looked genuinely confused by the turn of this conversation, as if he hadn’t even thought about this as an activity for tonight before, so getting it rejected by Cassidy before the idea had even been presented just struck him as incredibly odd. “Who ever said we were going to fuck?”

Had he read this completely wrong? Cassidy wasn’t prepared for this situation, usually after he said he wasn’t going to do it he was being told he was leading people on, giving them false hope, that he should try it anyways… The negative responses had been plentiful, hurtful, but never had he been in a position quite like this where someone was actually more or less agreeing with him. In a really weird, still almost accusing way, sure, but agreeing nonetheless.

“We… We were not…?”

The question almost felt stupid to ask, even more so with Kip snorting at it a little.

“Well, no. I mean, if you want to, I guess, but that’s not what tonight is about. What on Earth even gave you that idea?”

“It’s our anniversary today? And we haven’t gone that far yet, and I thought…” The words were just blurting out of his mouth at this point, Cassidy being equally confused by the absurdity of the situation and the genuine fear of all this still going to hell at the same time that he wasn’t able to think it straight. Kip just shook his head a little bit, but offered him a smile after what had felt like ages in Cassidy’s mind.

“That doesn’t mean anything. And trust me… If I wanted to pursue you like that, which I don’t, I would have done that way before the six months mark, that’s for sure.”

If Cassidy wasn’t so confused about that statement, he would have been a blushing mess in front of the other man for sure.

“You… You don’t?”

Kip just shrugged a little. “Why would I? I’m perfectly content with where we are right now. These are some of the best times I’ve had in my life and…” He looked away, a faint blush covering his features as he smiled, staring at the table set in between the two beds that they hadn’t cleaned out yet after they finished eating. “And you genuinely make me so much happier, just being like this. I don’t need anything more. To be honest, I don’t want anything more either. Especially if it’s not from you.”

The last line stung him a bit, Cassidy not being very sure how to respond. On one hand that was a rather sweet statement Kip was making, but at the same time it felt threatening. Especially since Cassidy knew he wasn’t going to be able to give him anything more than the casual sweet intimacy they had been enjoying with one another so far, whether he wanted it or not. Kip just didn’t seem to be understanding it quite that well yet though.

“So whatever it is that is making you think that we needed to do something tonight… Put that thought away. It’s not going to happen. Unless you actually really want it to.”

Cassidy almost wanted to be happy to hear it. But just almost. He was still fidgeting with his hands, having a hard time looking directly at Kip as the other man returned his eyes on him, offering him a smile.

“Cheer up, Clementine. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to tonight.”

Kip still didn’t get it. He had to drive home the full point, or this was eventually going to end with destructive results, and Cassidy was very well aware of it. He slowly reached for Kip’s hands again, holding them in his, thumbs carefully caressing over the back of them as Cassidy was trying to find the proper words for all of his feelings.

He really just had to be honest about it all. And despite everything Kip had just said trying to reassure him, the thought was just terrifying to him.

“Kip…” The Brit hummed a bit in response, leaning closer as he was trying to steal a peek of Cassidy’s face as he didn’t dare to look up at Kip. “It’s… It’s not just about tonight. It’s about always. All the time up to this point and from now on. It’s just… Never going to happen.”

“That’s okay.”

‘You’ll change your mind.’ ‘I can help you with that.’ ‘It’s different with me, I promise.’ Cassidy was so prepared to hear any of those words, he had heard them so many times before in this exact same situation.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t--”

“I’m ace, Kip.”

Kip’s brows furrowed a bit, the statement catching him at least slightly bit off guard. “…What?”

“Ace. Asexual. I…” Cassidy inhaled deeply, finally turning back towards Kip. He didn’t want to watch the disappointment take him over, but these were news best delivered face to face, literally. “I’m never going to want to have sex with you. Not tonight, not ever. I’m sorry.”

Kip looked back at him, Cassidy having a hard time reading his expression out of his own nervousness. Was he mad? Despite everything Kip had just said, was this still really catching him off guard now that Cassidy was able to actually put it into words that he could fully understand? Was he upset, confused?

And then Kip laughed.

Now it was Cassidy’s turn to be confused, as he just watched and listened as Kip let out the heartiest laugh he had probably ever heard from him. It wasn’t a mocking one, far from it, Kip seemed genuinely amused and entertained by the situation, his words. Cassidy wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be offended by that, but Kip didn’t sound malicious. Which was even weirder to him.

“I’m so sorry,” Kip finally whispered after a while, inhaling deeply as he released one of his hands from Cassidy, drying the corners of his eyes quickly. “I, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just, it’s so fucking funny.”

Cassidy just looked at him, having no clue what the hell he was talking about. To him, this was like the least funny situation to be in, him having poured his heart out to Kip and being so worried where this whole night was going to go, with or without that confession.

But as Kip looked back at him finally, there was nothing but a genuine smile plastered all across his face.

“I… I guess I should have told you sooner. I just wasn’t sure how you’d react, but, well… Considering tonight, I think we’re on the same page.”

Kip ran a hand through his hair, still trying to slightly catch his breath after the laughing fit he just had. “I mean everything I said though. These past few months have been some of the best in my life, I wouldn’t change them, or you, for anything else. Which is why I’ve just been pushing this whole thing off, just waiting to see what you wanted and going with the flow of that. If I knew you didn’t want any of this, I would have said something sooner.”

“What do you mean?”

Kip sighed, hand reaching for Cassidy, landing on his cheek as Kip smiled at him. “You silly fruit, I’m trying to tell you we’re in this together.”

As Cassidy didn’t reply, just looked at him even more confused, Kip just sighed quietly, his hand moving to the back of Cassidy’s head, gently pulling him closer for a kiss. He stopped just mere inches away though, smiling at the blond.

“What I mean is that I’m also ace, you fucking fool,” Kip whispered, finally allowing his lips to touch with Cassidy’s again.