#I was tempted to just not shade them at all because it was already past midnight but haha it's 3am nowbut at least they're done😌💅🏻

[katimanki]

Turtleneck twinsies💅🏻💅🏻

Yeah no, the shirt choices were not intentional at all, I only noticed when I’d already finished Nancy’s lineart and I wasn’t gonna change stuff at that point anymore💀

[writingsbychlo]

LOSE YOUR INHIBITIONS

mattheo riddle & theodore nott | 8.1k

your boyfriend thought it would be fun to play a game of hide and seek only knowing one another's costumes. neither of you anticipated the mix-up of someone else wearing the same mask, or the thrilling events that follow.

note: happy hallowe'en, angels! you knew me and @theostrophywife would never leave you hanging on this special day, right? enjoy xo

Accepting the shot presented to you at the door, Fred Weasley delivered the vial with a charming grin. With a flick of his wrist, the door to the Gryffindor common room opened, letting the sounds of the party spill out from within. It was raging already, though this was no surprise, as the parties the twins threw had always been legendary. 

Swirling the sparkling liquid around inside the tube, it flickered in iridescent shades as the flashing lights from within rippled through it, and a smirk tugged on your painted lips. It smelled like sugared cherries and vanilla, a mouthwatering and tempting combination. Bringing it to your lips, you let the flavour wash over you, like silk as it ran down your throat dangerously smoothly. 

This party had been all anyone could talk about for the past two weeks, since the infamous Weasley pair had finally revealed the theme for this year's Hallowe’en bash. A masquerade party, hence the broken doll makeup that covered the right side of your face, but that hadn't been enough to satisfy the pair. No, rather than stop there, they’d gone on to craft themselves a potion of their own imagining, one that began to leave the edges of your vision blurring in a perfect kind of haze, and you placed the empty tube back down onto the tray in his hand. 

“How’s it feel?” Fred grinned, red hair shining under the low lights as you blinked away the fuzziness in the edges of your vision. It was then, as you stared a moment longer, that the recognition of a face you’d known for almost a decade slipped your mind entirely. 

“Oh… wow.”

“Recognise me?” He chuckled, handing a couple of vials to a group of giggling girls who passed you by, none of whom you now found you could place the identity of. Even the timbre of his voice sounded distorted and different as you processed it, knowing what he normally sounded like. 

“I only know it’s you because… well, because we've been talking. I have no idea who just walked past.” You murmured, a pleasant tingling spreading through your body, slipping away any anxieties and worries. Only warmth and excitement were left in its wake. 

“Didn’t we tell you to arrive with your friends, hm? Good luck finding anyone in there.” Fred tutted teasingly, motioning for you to go inside, and you hummed your acknowledgement as you walked into the party. 

The floors vibrated under your feet, making you wonder just how many other students they’d had to coerce into helping cast the charms keeping this party a secret from the professors. Enchanted lights refracted and bounced around the expanded common room space, changing colours and leaving patterns streaking the darkened atmosphere.

Upon entering the main room, the heavy base of the music shook you so hard it rocked all the way up into your stomach with every step you took, and bodies filled every space in the room. Dancing, talking, laughing, playing games, drinking. They’d thought of it all, and you made your way slowly over to the drinks table to fill yourself up a cup with the spiced elf wine you were so fond of this time of year. 

Some people milled around in groups, clinging to those whose identities they knew, while others boldly adventured and mingled in the freedom of anonymity. With a cursory glance across the crowds, all of the faces and voices around you blurred away before you could properly identify them. People you’d known for years were strangers to you for the night, and the spike of adrenaline it caused felt light lightning. 

With a twist in your stomach, and another gulp of wine, the music beat as your feet guided you through the throngs of people, beginning the search for a familiar mask. 

Mattheo hadn't told you when he’d arrive, only that it would be after you. 

Originally planning to arrive together, your boyfriend had thought it all the more amusing to turn the night into a thrilling game for the pair of you. You were only given the knowledge of what his mask looked like; something he’d picked up at a Muggle costume store to ensure nobody else would be wearing the same thing.

The black and white details were burned into your mind, and yet, every face you passed wasn’t what you were looking for. After completing your first lap of the party, you’d found yourself situated in a new corner. With a heady mixture of wine and adrenaline buzzing through your bloodstream, you tapped your fingers against your thigh in anticipation.

The second lap you took of the room resulted in much the same way. Though, this time, it had certainly taken longer. The dance floor had long since been overflowed, the groups, couples and solo dancers for the night had spilt out to fill almost half of the room. Grinding, swaying, twirling, you’d become caught up with different people at least three times, as the atmosphere of the party swept you away. Laughing, flushed cheeks, you finally stumbled from the masses and back into the rest of the room. 

More people had arrived since you had first started the hunt of your game, and you had no doubt now that he was in here somewhere, waiting for you to find him. No mask fit, no costume was right, and you’d done almost three laps of the room before you spotted him. 

Hours had melted by, you were sure of it, but suddenly it all felt like nothing as you spotted the masked man standing across the room. 

Tall, dressed impeccably in all black, and breathing out smoke from under the edge of the mask as he passed a cigarette around the group of boys he was standing with. His head tipped back as he laughed, and as you saw the mask you had memorised, you were sure of it. 

Slipping over, you made sure to skirt around the edges of the group, delighting in the squeal you involuntarily let loose when his head turned in your direction. Though you couldn't see his eyes beneath the mask, you could feel his sights locked onto your own, and for a moment, it felt like the breath was trapped in your lungs. 

Tall, imposing, terrifying. You bit your lip, waving your fingers at him, and watching his lips twist into a smirk, before he was handing off the cigarette in his hands, and waving back. Crooking a finger to beckon him closer, those long legs carried him until he stood before you, the smell of smoke and spiced whiskey rolling off of him and covering your senses. 

“Well, hello there.” You whispered, hands reaching out to settle on his arms as you took a small step forward. Trailing your hands along his sleeves, your fingers brushed against the embroidery on his cuff, and your smile widened at confirmation under your fingertips of the sewing you’d put there.

“Hello, doll.” He mused, humoured by his own joke, and you rolled your eyes gently, taking his hands in your own, and tugging him towards the dance floor. 

“Come on, I’ve been waiting all evening to dance.”

“Have you now?” He rolled his lower lip through his teeth, watching your hips move as you led him to a space you’d be able to occupy enough to move amongst the bodies. “And what have you been waiting for?”

“The right partner, of course.” Happy with the spot you’d found, you looped your arms around his neck, stepping into your boyfriend’s space a lot more, and his hands slid down your sides to settle on your hips. “Glad I finally found you.”

“Found me, indeed.” He mumbled, his forehead coming down to rest on your own, and a happy sigh slipped from your lips. You couldn't see much beyond the black-out eyes of the mask, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to, instead, you turned your back to him and pressed yourself into his chest, pulling his arms around you in the same way you always did. 

Swaying together in harmony, your head rolled back to sit on his shoulder, the words to the songs happily flowing from your lips as your hips ground against your boyfriend’s. Hands wandered, weak groans and ghosts of his breath along your neck were exchanged for your giggles. 

Where one game ended, a new one arose, a game of push and pull as you danced together. Pressing your arse back into his crotch, he returned the force, the outline of him pressing through his jeans to display his interest, and his arms tightened around you. 

“You’re confident, hm?” He teased, both hands dropping to your thighs, nails skating over your skin in a new and delicious way that made you shiver. When he reached the edge of your dress, his fingertips barely dipped below, before opting to toy with the fabric instead and slip away. 

“You love it.” Came your response, guiding one of his hands a little further up your body, skimming it over your breast tantalisingly before bringing your joined hands up, raised in the air to sway to the song. His laughter was warm and contagious, and time seemed to melt away once again as you sank into his embrace. 

At some point, he had tugged up the edge of his mask, his mouth descending upon your neck to kiss and lick and bite, drawing moans and whimpers from your lips. When dancing had grown tiresome for you both, you’d slipped back to the drinks table, laughing your way through a shot of Gigglewater each, before finding your way to one of the more secluded couches in the darker corners of the room. 

Now, your mouth was on his neck, marking his skin with red lipstick prints as one of his hands continued to grip your hips, allowing you to roll your core ever so slowly over the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. His other hand was splayed across one of your breasts, squeezing slowly as he panted, pulse racing under your lips. 

“(Y/n)?” A voice broke you from your reverie, and you nibbled on the sweet spot on his neck. 

“Yeah, Matty?” You whispered, believing the call to have come from the man underneath you. However, when he stiffened, so suddenly and harshly it was like he’d turned to stone, you pulled back. Your brows furrowed, you couldn't see what was wrong with his mask on, and you were reaching to remove it when you became aware of the other figure, standing behind the couch. 

With a gasp as you observed his almost identical attire, your heart felt for a moment like it stopped beating. In what you were sure would’ve looked almost comical in any other situation, you looked dumbly between the two matching masks. 

A soberingly cold bolt of shock sliced through you as you looked up, finding another tall, impeccably-clad man in all black standing behind the couch on which you were currently straddling Mattheo on. Or, thought you were, but now, as you took in the identical mask on his face, doubt began to creep in. The second man crossed his arms, legs widening in eerily familiar body language.

A sick feeling twisted in your stomach as you pulled back, pushing the man beneath you away by his shoulders. His neck was shining from the hickeys you had been enthusiastically marking his neck with. No matter how hard you tried, however, you couldn't place the features of either, recognition dancing just out of reach within your mind, and you let slip a frustrated growl. 

“Matty?” You whispered, and the man underneath you somehow stiffened further, a feat you’d thought impossible, as the one standing squared his shoulders and seemed to grow angrier through stance alone. 

“That would be me, sweetheart.” The one standing ground out through his teeth, voice so cold it made you feel like the temperature in the room had dropped. Springing up from the couch, you shook your head, feeling as though the whole world had just been tipped upside down. You had no chance to process it, as the intruder voiced the question also on your mind, “What the fuck is going on?”

“I found you! I found the mask!” An uncomfortable feeling raced through your body, heart pounding in your chest. As you rubbed at the place it thumped so hard, trying to escape, he seemed to soften a little. “I was so sure! Fuck, this stupid game—” 

The flashing lights were too much, the noise and the people and the complete lack of awareness were all too much, and you stumbled for the exit. The moment you were out of the party and alone in the corridors, it was like you could breathe again. Gasping cold breaths into your lungs, you found yourself in silence, the charms working perfectly to contain the secrecy of the party, the only noise was your heaving breaths and the sound of your heart pumping. 

Pressing your back into the cool stone of the wall, you tugged off the mask on your face, shaky fingers dropping it to the ground as the balls of your hands pressed to your eyes, just trying to think. 

Then, like a whoosh of warmth and a burst in the tranquillity of the corridor, a body slammed into the stone beside you, a groan slipping free as the breath left his lungs. The mask was still on his face, covering his identity, not that you’d be able to tell who it was even if it was gone, but you could recognise Mattheo by default now. He’d taken off his mask, his features swimming just outside of your consciousness like in a dream, but those flattened curls, and the chain around his neck, it was no doubt. 

“Someone better start explaining what the fuck is going on.” Mattheo hissed, brown eyes growing a little more familiar the longer you looked at them, filled with both rage and vulnerability. 

“I-I was so sure, Matty! I checked the sleeve and everything, I’m sorry.” The man whom you now knew to be your boyfriend was wearing a black t-shirt only, and you fumbled for the stranger’s sleeve, tugging the left one forward and tracing your finger over the embroidered initials that you had sewn into every shirt, jumper and tee he owned. 

Mattheo gripped the stranger's wrist in a far tighter hold than you had, yanking him forward to inspect the markings on the sleeve, and silent confusion settled between the three of you. Seconds ticked past in what felt more like hours, and then, Mattheo groaned in frustration, dropping the man’s wrist and raking his hand through his curls instead. He turned, kicking the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. 

“Fucking potion, I don’t even know who the fuck you are! You’ve got my sweater, I mean, what is this, a set-up?” With a swing, his open palm slammed down on the rock on the side of the stranger’s head, Mattheo’s unfamiliar features close enough to the stranger that he’d smell the whiskey on your boyfriend’s breath. “What to do with you now, huh? When I kick the shit out of you for kissing my girlfriend, I want to know exactly who I’m hitting.”

“I’ll tell you.” The stranger croaked, and Mattheo let out a dry laugh as he backed away. 

“And I’m supposed to just trust you, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping your ribs as your arms wrapped around yourself, unprepared for the answer, whether it was the truth or not. More silence ticked by, so many moments that your skin pebbled with goosebumps in the chill, and you rubbed your arms for warmth in the cold castle corridors. 

Eventually, the stranger balled his shaking hands, and cursed under his breath in a language you recognised immediately. Italian. Your next inhale caught painfully in your throat as realisation struck before he’d even begun to speak. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t mean for this or happen. I—”

Shoes scuffled against the floor, and then Mattheo had him by the collar of his sweater, backed to the wall once again as his fist reared back for the swing—

“It’s Theo!”

Mattheo’s punch halted, the impact of stopping so suddenly rippling along his body, and his tension faltered. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?” He implored, tugging off his mask at last, to reveal the same blurred, dreamlike features, but a recognisable head of golden-brown hair. “I can explain, I swear. Can you just put your fist down for a second?”

Reaching out, he placed a hand over Mattheo’s, lowering it slowly, and you crept forward to wrap your own hands around Mattheo’s, sliding his fist open to slip your fingers between his. He squeezed back fiercely, angrily. But, then, he lifted your hand up to his mouth, and kissed the back of your hand in a gesture you knew so well, all while glaring at ‘Theo’. 

“Look, I didn’t have a costume. It’s stupid, I wasn’t planning on coming to the party at all, but I changed my mind.” With another nervous breath, you rubbed your thumb over Mattheo’s, feeling him tense and release over and over again as bursts of anger shot through him. “You were in the shower and your mask was hanging on the back of the door, so I just used a Geminio on yours. I grabbed the first pair of black jeans and a sweater I could find, I didn’t think you’d mind, we share clothes all the time! I’m sorry.”

Mattheo took a deep breath and another. And another. 

His head tipped back to stare at the ceiling, and blue eyes that ticked at being familiar found yours, “I’m sorry, bella. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I figured you two would show up together, and…”

“It was a game.” You finally croaked out, voice sore from holding back tears. “It was just a stupid game, I thought I found Matty but it was you.”

“I should’ve asked for your name. But, the potion and my inhibitions…”

“How does this even happen, Theo? Are you such a slut you were just letting a girl grind on you when you didn’t even know her name?” Mattheo jabbed, but the heat of rage was gone from his words, and instead lingered a desperation for some kind of explanation.

“Yes, apparently, I am!” Theo slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late now. The potion, the weed, the whiskey, it was all mixing, and Theo had always been a chatterbox when intoxicated. “Cazzo, she’s so fucking hot, mate! I didn’t want to stop and ask questions, I just wanted to get my hands on her and—” His words disintegrated into a gurgled choke as Mattheo once again pinned him to the wall, this time with a hand on his throat. 

His fingers flexed, and with a ragged swear he released the grip he had on Theo, allowing him to speak once again.

“Mattheo, you have to let me go.”

“Why?” Your boyfriend demanded, even as his hand loosened a fraction more. No matter how angry he was, you all knew he was incapable of hurting Theo. Mattheo would sooner injure himself than someone he loved, and Theo fell squarely into that category. “Why should I?”

“Because you’re not going to hurt me, we both know that,” Theo said gently, and Mattheo growled in a threat that scared nobody. “It’s not our fault. We were laced with a potion, a potion that is still very much in my system and blurring my boundaries. I was already hard as fuck, and this is really turning me on. Please let me go before this gets any more embarrassing for all of us.”

Your eyes widened, much like Mattheo’s, and Theo smirked a little at the shock he’d managed to inflict. “What?”

“Merde, since it’s clear that I’m not getting fucked tonight, and blue balls are setting in, could you kindly let me go, before I cream myself from your choking, Mattheo?” Theo hissed, his fingers wrapping around the wrist of the hand now merely sitting like a warm presence on his throat. 

Mattheo considered it for a second, two, three. A whole new kind of tension lingered in the air, and his hand slipped down from Theo’s throat to his shoulder instead. He turned to look at you, his gaze finding your own, a questioning heat swirling in them that you knew all too well. Mattheo wanted it. That kind of burning desire was something you were intimately familiar with, as was his secret wish to fuck his best friend. He’d wanted it long since before the two of you had gotten together, and he’d confided it in you early on. You’d discussed the possibility before, sure, but Theo had never been unattached, or the timing had never been right. You’d never dared cross such a line before. Now, the line was all but obliterated anyway, might as well proceed without caution. 

With a small nod, excitement lit up Mattheo’s face in replacement of dark anger.

“Who says you’re not getting fucked?”

It was Theo’s turn to be speechless, that smirk melting off of his face as he gaped instead. With all the elegance and eloquence you knew him to possess, he uttered a simple, “Huh?”

Turning back to you, Mattheo slipped a hand over your eyes, while pressing a kiss to your cheek. He muttered a few Geminio’s, and when he removed his hand, both of them had their masks back on, and matching attire now. In identical tees and jeans, right down to the boots and gloves, they looked the same. Your heart skipped a beat, and your throat bobbed with anticipation.

“Can you tell who’s who?” One of them asked, their voice unrecognisable once again, and without the simple features you’d clung to for identity, your lips parted. On a trembling, excited breath, you shook your head. 

“No. I can’t.”

“Good.” With that, a hand slipped into each of your own, a tug within your stomach telling you that someone had apparated the three of you, because when you blinked next, you were in the boys’ dorm. The latch on the door flicked locked with a quiet spell, and the needle on the record player lowered to begin crooning one of Mattheo’s favourite albums for these kinds of moments. 

You looked between them both, a twisted glee at having no idea who was who. One of them reached a hand out, brushing cold fingers along your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, peering into the dark spaces of the mask hiding his eyes. 

“I think this moment deserves a picture, don’t you?” One of them whispered, head tipping to the other, and a condescending and arousing chuckle made you shudder with anticipation. In a flurry of moving hands and bodies, you found yourself kneeling before the full-length mirror in the room, both of the masked men standing behind you. One had your hair twisted around his hand loosely, as the other held the camera. 

Click. 

“So pretty.” Came a quiet mumble, you weren’t even sure which man said it, but it made you flush and smile nonetheless. Untwisting his hand from your hair, he offered it to you instead, your fingers settling over his own as he helped you back to your feet. With a small tug, you were tumbling into his body, a gasp leaving you as your back settled on his chest.

The next photo came as you stood, your head rolled back onto a shoulder, and your dress pulled down to bunch around your waist, leaving your breasts and lacy bra on show. Large hands covered your tits, squeezing appreciatively as your vision spotted from the flash of the little Polaroid once again. 

Click. 

“Guess who?” The voice purred beside your ear, those hands moving to your hips, your thighs, tracing your body as though a new wonder before him. 

“Theo?” You whispered, tipping your head to come face to face with the mask. 

“Wrong.” The one holding the camera said, and a whimper slipped from your throat as Mattheo slapped your arse with just the kind of punishing pressure he knew so well. Biting down on your lip, you let them readjust you, slipping your eyes closed as you stood in the centre of the room. Someone tugged your dress the rest of the way down, someone held your hips as you slipped out of your heels, and then someone was flicking open the catch on your bra, until you were stood naked in the centre of the room. 

For a long moment, nobody touched you at all, and your nerves skittered at the thrill, breath catching in your throat.

Then, warm hands without the leather gloves now were on your body. Behind you, their breath on your neck, hands skimming up your arms lightly, and you gasped. You understood the game they wanted to play.

“Theo?” You whispered, sure you’d guessed correctly this time, with the reverent and cautious touch it seemed to be. The sharp sting of a hand coming down across your arse proved you wrong. 

“Nope.”

The figure stepped away from you, and your fingers twitched to reach out, your lips pulling in a grin as you waited for the next set of hands to come. When they did, it was without hesitation, two large hands closing over the top of your bra, and taking an appreciative squeeze. 

The force with which he grabbed you pulled you back into his chest, and you chuckled, tipping your head until you could feel the beat of his heart against you. 

“Theo.”

You were certain of that, getting a rumbling him against your back, and a kiss to your shoulder blades as he backed away, confirming your choice. 

The next touch was on your stomach, knuckles skimming in a featherlight touch over your skin, circling your navel, before fingertips traced the top of your panties. Snapping the elastic against your skin, he drew a breathy moan from you. “Matty.”

“Wrong.” His words were punctuated with a slap, your legs shaking with the impact, and you clenched your thighs together, forcing your eyes to stay closed no matter how much you wanted to open them. The camera never stopped clicking, observing you and recording you in the moment of erotic vulnerability.

A handful of tense moments passed this time, you were sure they were communicating something outside of your knowledge. There seemed to be no order or system to their touches, nothing you could latch onto, leaving you completely in the dark, and it was thrilling. 

A light touch traced its way up the inside of your thighs, a contrast to the foot that roughly kicked the insides of your feet, forcing your thighs to open wider. The other hand was on your back, tracing your spine until he pushed between your shoulders forcing you to bend. And as you did, those same fingers traced your cunt through your underwear, drawing an impatient whine from you as you were forced to keep waiting. “Teddy?”

“Wrong again,” Came Mattheo’s amused voice, and this time, you didn’t get a spank across your arse, but instead, a pinch to your clit that made your entire body jerk. 

“That was Mattheo.” You squeaked, familiar with his antics and the way he touched your body, and a face in front of you laughed. Cracking your eyes open to peer at someone so familiar and yet so unfamiliar at the same time, he smirked at you. 

“That was an obvious one.”

“Mhm.” Licking across your lower lip, you pushed forward, eager to close the distance and kiss your boyfriend for the first time tonight. He let you, his mouth sealing against your own in comforting familiarity, his hands holding your jaw as he straightened you back up.

His tongue played with your own while he guided you backwards until he was lowering you onto the bed, his knee between your thighs to grind on, pressing against your aching core and giving you the relief you so desperately needed. “You’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this getting’ you going?” He teased, raising your hands above you, and all you could do was nod and moan. His hand cupped your face, his thumb rubbing across your cheek, as his mouth trailed your jaw on the other side. 

When he’d finished marking his favourite spot on your neck, leaving the skin stinging in the best way possible with his prints, he pulled away once again. He flipped you over, onto your stomach, undoing the catch on your bra and letting you shake your arms out of it, before you were without touch once again, back to both of your men as they stood behind you. 

Face down in the bed, you once again lost track of who was who, feeling another set of hands snaking their way up your thighs, into the lace of your panties. Inching them own, slowly, so slowly, another hand laced into your hair, pulling your head up from the bedding, and a body pressed against your back, the camera flashing in your face once again. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, the desperation beginning to cloud any semblance of morals or judgement you might’ve had left far more than any potion ever could. “Enough pictures, I need you, please!”

“Who do you need, baby? Who’s on their knees for you, huh? Get it right, and you can have it.” Clenching your thighs, you keened, throwing an arrogant smirk over your shoulder. 

“Theo.”

They both paused for a second before Mattheo chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“Because when you eat me out, Matty, you bite me first.” Your smirk was countered with a spank to the back of your thighs, and Theo sank his teeth into one of your arse cheeks as a consequence for your attitude, but it was worth it. 

Flipping up your skirt and exposing the sensitive skin of your backside to the room, Theo blew a streak of cold air across your bare pussy, making you jerk forwards with a startled gasp. “I’ve wanted to get my mouth between your legs for so long, bella. You have no idea how often I think about this.”

With that, Theo licked a long stripe up your dripping folds, and his moan was almost as loud as yours as he got a taste. Like a man possessed, Theo began to eat. He didn’t hold back, not even for a moment, confident in his movements as he proved all those rumours true. Girls loved to talk, Theo was a hot topic in gossip groups, and you were ashamed of how often you’d listened in. Now, you knew it all to be true.

You were just beginning to lose yourself to the feeling, hips rocking against Theo’s face as he eagerly encouraged the actions, when your head was yanked up, to meet another ghost-faced mask peering down at you. You were sure your heart had stopped beating altogether. 

Kneeling before you on the bed was Mattheo. If you weren’t well aware by this point that Theo was the one on his knees behind you, devouring you like you were his final meal, you’d have recognised Mattheo by his cock alone. Pretty pink tip and a slight curve that always hit just right, the silvery bead of arousal running down his tip and into his fingers as he pumped slowly made your mouth water. 

His fingers brushed your cheek, settling on your jaw, and you opened your mouth for him. 

“My good girl.” He murmured, allowing you enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows before the heated head of his cock found its way between your lips and settled like a heavy weight on your tongue. The salty taste of him was familiar, slicking across your tastebuds as you swirled your tongue around him, a deep and throaty rumble echoing from his chest as he settled back. 

With your hips pinned to the bed, your cries of pleasure were muffled by the cock in your mouth, he switched between fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit. The sensations were overwhelming, so much going on that your head was spinning.

Kneeling there, thick thighs spread as your hands smoothed up them, you moaned around Mattheo, passing on the pleasure Theo made you feel. Sliding one hand up higher as the other supported you, your head bobbed, fingertips raking his flexing abs under his shirt. Tugging on a handful of the material, Mattheo tipped his covered face back to you, and you swore you could feel his smirk under the mask in the mere way he tilted his head. 

Pulling back with an obscene pop, you gasped for air, straightening your arm and leaning up as far as you could, while Theo still brutally gripped your hips to keep you in place against his face. “Please, Matty, take it off.”

With a mutter, his shirt disappeared, the chain you knew so well hanging around his neck, glinting in the warm lights against the glow of his skin. He held your face in his hands, pulling you up, and the mouth of the mask pressed against your lips. The taste of him through the fabric made your head spin, rationale abandoning you once again as you kissed him through the mask. 

His fingers threaded into your hair, tightening ever so slightly, as he pushed your head back down. “Suck, sweetheart.”

You dropped on shaky arms, taking the length of him down your throat once again, using him to muffle the sounds of your moans from Theo’s relentless assault on your cunt. The pressure building inside of you swelled, your hips grinding back against Theo’s face, pushing into the security of his hands on your body as he held so tight he’d bruise. With a cry around Mattheo’s cock, you fell apart. 

Your boyfriend pulled back as you came, your shouts and pleas exposed to the room as you trembled through an incredible orgasm. Theo kept up with you, every wave and dip, until you were boneless and spent on the bed. 

But he never stopped. 

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, a sensitive mewl escaping you, and as you tried to claw your way up the mattress, Theo pulled back, biting at your inner thigh. 

“You’re not going anywhere, dolcezza. I’ve waited so long for this, and who knows if I’ll ever get the chance again. I’m making the most of this. And I’m not finished.”

Mattheo slid off the bed as Theo flipped you over, letting you face the ceiling instead of the sheets now as he lifted one knee over each of his shoulders, his arms banding around your thighs. It locked you where you were, splayed open and unable to escape as he dove back in. 

Your back arched, head pressing into the mattress as his assault began anew on your overly sensitive cunt. As he worked, his own moans increased in volume and urgency, and you found the strength to lift your head for only a moment. Kneeling on the floor behind the maskless stranger that you knew to be Theo, was Mattheo. Now without his mask too, messy curls on display again, Theo sank two fingers into your core and scissored them open, freeing himself up to toss his head back onto Mattheo’s shoulder. 

Mattheo was kissing and biting his way along Theo’s shoulder and up his throat, his arm around Theo’s body moving in a way that you knew exactly why Theo was moaning in such a way. When Mattheo’s kisses reached high enough, Theo twisted his head, lips locking on Mattheo’s, and you clenched down around his fingers, dropping your head back to the bedding at the sight. 

Theo switched between kissing your boyfriend and kissing your pussy, both involving copious amounts of tongue, as his fingers never let up inside of you. Already being so overstimulated, it didn’t take long until you were teetering on the brink of another earth-shattering climax, ears ringing with your noise and Theo’s. 

Hopefully, everybody was at the party, because you’d forgotten to cast a Muffliato and there was no doubt that anyone passing by would be able to hear your moans. That, and the needy sounds Theo was making as Mattheo worked him closer and closer to the edge. 

When you finally came again, your body shook and trembled against the mattress, legs snapping closed as your wetness soaked your thighs, and you gasped for burning breaths amid the delirious pleasure. On the floor, Mattheo tugged an overstimulated Theo’s head back with a fistful of his golden hair, and bit the lobe of his ear, hard. Theo’s eyes rolled back happily as Mattheo mumbled, “Don’t you dare come yet, pretty boy, I have plans for you.”

With that, Theo was whining pathetically as Mattheo retracted from touching him at all, rocking to his feet with far too much arrogant ease for the state both you and Theo rendered to. The final pieces of clothing between the three of you were shed, somewhere between Theo pulling Mattheo in for desperate kisses, and Mattheo mumbling into the snog about how long he’s desired this. You watched, through hooded eyes, as the tangled men stumbled their way towards you, hips grinding together through decreasing layers of clothing, until Mattheo was gripping them both in his hand to thrust together. 

You threw an arm over your eyes, too turned on by the sight before you to even catch your breath, and the mattress was soon bouncing as another body hit it. You found yourself lying beside Theo on the bed, his features ever so slowly starting to seep back into focus. The potion was nearing its end, and the smile on his swollen lips was familiar as he leaned over to kiss you. 

“Hi, bella.”

“Hi, Teddy.” You grinned as his mouth slanted against your own, a heady mix of Mattheo’s flavour, your arousal, and simply him, all meeting in the kiss. It was enough to melt you into his arms in half a second. Theo rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, and you yelped as Mattheo gripped your hips and lifted you to straddle Theo properly. 

“You looked so pretty squirming in his lap before, baby. Show me again.” Mattheo mocked, and you had no doubt you were far from pretty, now. Your tears would’ve ruined your makeup, smeared into your hands or the sheets, you no doubt looked like a fucked-out mess, but the only thing you saw reflected in either of their gazes was raw, primal desire. 

Theo slipped a hand from your hip to his cock, notching the leaking tip to your entrance, already stretched out from his previous activities. You were clenching around nothing, your whining reaching your ears, fading out into moans as he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch, Theo was stretching you out for the first time this evening. He was longer than Mattheo, surpassing any depths you’d ever been fucked to before, and your eyes rolled back, panting through shallowed breaths as you pushed back against him until you were filled. 

It truly felt like he was splitting you in half, the tip of his cock pressing so deep and the outline of him present on your stomach. You traced the bulge of him with a sick kind of thrill. “So big, Teddy.”

“That's because I’ve never been this turned on in my fucking life. Merde.” He wheezed, his head pressing back into the bedding behind his head. Mattheo chuckled from behind you both, his kisses leading up your spine as you sat in Theo’s lap, adjusting to the fill of him. 

“Look at my sweethearts, already so spent,” Mattheo murmured, hooking his chin over your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist to toy slowly with your throbbing clit. As your hips began to move, Theo’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes constantly moved between where you met, your face, and Mattheo. He couldn't decide where to look or what to watch, as Mattheo littered your mouth with hickeys behind you, and you rode Theo. 

The potions were finally wearing off, and you were thrilled to see the familiar features reappear. Beneath you, at last, Theo came into full focus. His messy hair, his flushed cheeks, swollen lips and shining eyes. He was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him, and that was saying something because he was gorgeous every moment of every damn day. You couldn't help yourself as you smiled, and he beamed back with genuine emotion, not just lust.

Rocking your hips needily against his own, chasing both of your climaxes, you leaned down to him and smothered his lips with your own. He kissed back just as tenderly, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, and he sighed in a soft manner as your fingers slipped into his hair, and your tongue tangled with his. 

He settled for propping himself up during the kiss, giving you the perfect place to lean against his chest. Finally finding himself and crooking his legs behind you, his motions tossed you forward a little more, your mouths parting with your surprised gasp. He smirked as you lost your momentum and power, only to hand it all over to him as he began to thrust up into you from below. In your new position, Mattheo let out a contented sound at the sight, running calloused hands down the sides of your ribs, over your hips, and to your arse. 

Pulling your cheeks apart, he whispered a new spell you’d been experimenting with lately, and the warm, wet sensation of a lubricating charm trickled out from between your cheeks. A fingertip teased your puckering hole, sliding in to the first knuckle, and then deeper. 

“Think you can take us both, baby?” Mattheo asked, teasing, but genuine concern coated his voice through the lust, and when you nodded frantically, it wasn’t enough. 

“Both?” Theo panted, his thrusts slowing to a stop as you pushed yourself back onto what was now two of Mattheo’s fingers, stretching you open to take a second cock. “Oh, fuck, you’re— voi due siete come se il mio sogno più bello diventasse realtà.” Theo moaned, his hands holding your hips tight as he slammed a single, frantically hard thrust into you and then stilling for Mattheo.

“Yes or no, sweetheart? I don’t want to—”

“Yes, Mattheo! Merlin, yes, please! Please, do it.” Your begging was hurried and blurred, no longer capable of proper thought of speech, all you knew was what you needed from him. From them both. 

Mattheo slipped his fingers out of you, gripping his cock and spitting down onto himself, smearing it around his cock in the wetness already gathered, and positioning himself. At the sight, Theo whined again, “Me next,” He mumbled, and Mattheo laughed breathlessly. 

“To be spat on, or to be fucked up the arse?” Mattheo questioned, sinking himself into you slowly, and your eyes rolled back. 

“Cazzo, what kind of question is that? Both. Absolutely both.” Theo yapped, only drowned out by the volume of the sound you made. Pornographic, filthy, and uncontrollable. Your arms finally gave way, and you collapsed down to be cradled against Theo’s chest as you were finally filled with them both. It was so much it was overwhelming, in the best way possible, and you knew now that you were definitely being split in two this time. It was exquisite. 

Beginning to rock their hips into you, the two soon found a pace and worked together, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of it. Pure, unadulterated bliss took you over, the feeling spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes, and clouding everything thought in your head that wasn't begging or their names. Your body rocked with them, your throat raw, and it wasn’t long before the feelings were all consuming. 

Catapulting over the brink of bliss, a feeling you’d only experienced once or twice before took hold of you. Your juices gushed from you, a mess that soaked both the man under you as well as the one behind you. Mattheo praised you through an orgasm that came with so much force you were sure you blacked out for a moment, while Theo rode you through it and observed in awe. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt as though you were hardly breathing, screams petering off into absolute silence as tears ran down your cheeks. It was perfect. 

Mattheo soon followed, emptying himself inside of you with a deep and feral growl, pressing you into Theo’s chest as his body collapsed against your own. Shaking against you through his bliss, Mattheo left a collection of fast, loving kisses along your neck and shoulders, before pulling you off of Theo. 

Letting you roll to the side and shudder through the aftershocks, Mattheo focused his attention on the other member of your trio. Theo couldn’t even find the words to complain before Mattheo was circling a finger and thumb around the base of Theo’s cock, following the creamy circle of your arousal, and squeezing. 

Theo’s back arched, his legs spasming, and the veins in his biceps stood out as his cheeks went red with the strain of his desperation. 

“No!” He howled, slamming a fist into the bedding, almost hitting the discarded camera, and your hand caught it just before it rolled off of the edge of the bed. Surprising, that it had survived there for this long. “Why, Matty? I was— I was—”

Theo’s voice cracked, tears lining his eyes at being held at the brink when he was so close to the edge, and he took gasping, audible breaths as he tried to settle himself, sniffling. 

“I know, my pretty boy, I know,” Mattheo whispered, leaning down to kiss Theo’s frown. “You can come, just let me get my mouth on you first. I’ve always wanted you to come down my throat, I just needed you to hold off for me.” 

Theo let out a pained groan at that, his anger fading away as he nodded, and he slipped long fingers into dark curls before your very eyes as Mattheo descended upon his best friend’s cock. 

He dragged his tongue along the entire length of him, licking your juices from Theo’s skin, and his cock twitched dangerously. Taking the hint, Mattheo swallowed him down, and he wasn’t even halfway before Theo’s back arched, and he came. 

It was a beautiful sight and sound, both you and Mattheo watching in admiration as Theo finally reached his peak. Positioning the camera in your unsteady hands, you snapped a picture of the sight before you. Theo’s arched back, Mattheo with his flushed cheeks stuffed full, watching the man he was pleasuring. 

Click.

At the flash in the room, Mattheo’s focus moved to you, a wicked look flashing in those pretty eyes as he sucked one more time against Theo’s cock, before pulling back. He opened his mouth, tongue out, a picture of perfect filth as he showed just how much come Theo had released, dripping across his tongue. 

Click.

He took the camera from your hands and tossed it to the ground the second the photo was out, leaning down to kiss you messily and share the prize he’d won. Hurried kisses with Mattheo slowed as Theo’s taste seeped away, and your racing hearts all managed to settle.

The three of you lay in the bed, slowly gathering yourselves once again as you came back down from orbit. You were covered in bruises and bites, Theo was covered in your scratches and hickeys, and Mattheo was just a mess. The room smelled of sweat, sex, and weed Mattheo sparked up. Theo uttered a few charms and spells, whatever he could think of as you all basked in the afterglow, sharing the spliff between you.

Curling onto your side when it was finished, you caught Mattheo’s eye over the top of Theo’s chest, the grin he wore told you just how content and satisfied he was with the night’s events. Theo lifted an arm, brushing it through his hair with a heavy sigh, and when he lowered it back down, you caught his hand. 

Lacing his fingers with your own and snuggling in closer, your cheek came to rest on his shoulder as you kissed his knuckles. “That was incredible.” You whispered into the room, the music sputtering out and the lights lowering to fade out with a click of Mattheo’s fingers. 

“We’re doing that again soon, right?” Mattheo asked, prompting tired laughs from both you and Theo. “What? I haven’t even begun to scratch off the bucket list of things I want the three of us to do together.”

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2024 Day 7

Furryklok or Demonklok

Today’s entry is a companion piece to @kaanagen’s fanart because I got inspired while we were talking about it. 🔥

Set in an AU where Toki hasn’t left his family yet!

Photo credit

Toki wiped his bloody nose, holding back the tears. It had been years since the last time his parents beat him this badly. The basement? Sure, that was like his second room by this point. But being so brutally assaulted, to the point of blood…

Just because he dared to talk about his one dream, about his aspirations to be a musician…

He choked back a sob, more disappointed in himself than anyone else for ever having thought that the people that raised him would react differently. They didn’t even like having music played in the house. Of course wanting to be a guitarist would be blasphemous to hear for them. He was an idiot. A stupid, naive idiot.

But no more of that. That Toki was done for, soon to be buried.

Determined, he searched under the pile of straw and spotted it. The book about satanic spells and rituals that he had researched when he first acquired an interest in death metal. He knew his parents cleaned his room every now and then so the book would be safer here, amongst the litter and rubble that only Toki was in charge of cleaning.

He already knew what page to go to, he had already marked it. It was page 242, how to summon a devil.

Evidently, Toki thought it would be cool to summon your own guardian and thus protect himself from harm, while also enacting revenge on those who wronged him. The only reason he hesitated was, well…the possibility of hurting his parents.

Despite everything, Toki didn’t want to hurt them. They were the only people Toki really knew, after all. What was he supposed to do without them?

Against his will, he felt his reluctance come back to him, and he was about to close the book when a drop of blood fell on the page. Abruptly reminded of what they had done to him, Toki made up his mind.

With his own blood, he painted a pentagram on the wooden floor and placed his battered guitar at the center. Then, he closed his eyes and began chanting, picturing a future where he was allowed to be who he wanted to be. To do anything he wanted to do. A future where he could be free.

Music would be his freedom and he was willing to pay with his soul for it.

Suddenly, there was a rumbling and a light pierced his eyelids. Alarmed, he opened his eyes and found the ground was splitting in two, red blaze coming from where it had cracked. Terrified, he fell on his knees and began to pray for forgiveness.

When he looked up, he saw scarlet smoke was now emanating from the cracks and invading the basement. And within the smoke, there was a dark figure, approaching him with inhuman movements. He screamed in horror, wanting nothing more but to escape yet his body was frozen from the sight. A noise that could only be defined as an electric guitar riff resonated in the air.

“Nows, nows…” A deep voice spoke as the smoke slowly dissipated. “Who dares awakes me from mines slumber?” Blue eyes materialized, penetrating Toki with his gaze.

And yet, rather than be intimidated, the color eased him. It was a beautiful shade of blue, one of Toki’s favorites in fact. The color of the sky, or, well, heaven.

Heaven…

The silhouette stepped out of the smoke and Toki’s eyes widened upon witnessing its appearance.

What appeared to be a slim, naked man with flowing golden hair, cascading way past his shoulders, presented itself before Toki. It was holding a guitar, like a warrior with an axe, and eyeing him with interest. It was so beautiful that Toki would’ve thought he had summoned an angel instead, until he noticed the horns coming out of his forehead and the pointy ears emerging from his mane.

“So it ams you.” The demon said, leaning down to hold Toki’s chin between its fingers. “You looks like a good meals.”

As tempting as it was to gaze at the demon up close, Toki removed himself from the demon’s grasp. He tried his best to remember the Latin lessons his father had forced upon him during childhood. “M-Mihi nomen est…”

“Nej, nej,” The demon waved its hand. “Is understand everies lanksgage.” Its eyes spotted Toki’s guitar, now miraculously repaired, on the ground. “Ams this yours?”

Toki nodded and the demon proceeded to ditch his own guitar, which disappeared into a scarlet cloud, and picked Toki’s. Its long fingers began playing a monstrous solo on the guitar that, moments ago, was completely destroyed. It was sublime, it was godly, it was unlike anything Toki had ever seen.

“Whats yous name?” The demon asked, still fiddling with his guitar so freely that it almost felt obscene to watch.

“T…Toki.” He answered with cheeks flushed.

“Wells, Toke,” The demon hummed with a smirk. It was so tall, so tall that it was towering over him. “Does you have anythingks for me?”

Completely hypnotized, Toki was unable to answer. Though something in his mind was exceedingly clear.

He had gotten his wish.

[aemondsbeloved]

From The Tides [Part 6]

summary: a feast, a tourney, and Aemond's accusations about Daemon throw your wits off kilter. attendance at the tourney is unavoidable, as is the inevitability of running into Aemond again (8k).

pairings: aemond targaryen x reader, (platonic) lucerys velaryon x reader

warnings: violence (brief), show canon aegon, familial death (mentioned), less angsty than previous chapters imo though

notes: it's been a while. hoping to update this more often in the future. I recommend reading this on ao3! the formatting is better there

He wanted us all dead, did you know that?

Aemond’s words plagued you that eve of the feast. All throughout your company with Lord Cregan Stark whomade you feel like the person you were before you met Luke was difficult to enjoy. You might have enjoyed his company more, maybe even craved it for how lighthearted you felt as he told stories of Prince Jacaerys during his time at Winterfell. But Aemond’s poisonous words ruined everything.

You had never seen the snow in the Stormlands where you hailed. Cregan insisted that you should visit Winterfell to see it one day. Smiling at his words, you were mimicking true joy all because of Aemond Targaryen’s words. The Queen’s Consort was a rogue, you knew that. But it was difficult to believe he would want little children dead. And Aemond seemed assured of it. You could not trust him but you could not believe he would lie about such a thing. 

“I told him it was impossible to hit the stag from as far away as we were, but he didn’t listen!” Cregan laughed. Jace was leaning over your shoulder and you heard his chuckle at Cregan’s words, already knowing where this story was leading. “But that’s a Targaryen for you. I suppose Dragonriders always have to learn the hard way!” Cregan slams his cup down and the dark wine splashes onto the table. 

The scene is reminiscent of your uncle’s tales of taverns during his travels and the raucous men can cause, which makes you join in the laughter. You could almost imagine how rowdy Winterfell was compared to the Red Keep with his presence. 

“I did get the stag eventually,” Jace says pointedly after taking a sip of his wine. 

Cregan coughs a laugh and sensing another bout of japes was coming, you grinned at the Lord of Winterfell. “Did he now?'' Your words sound sweet and teasing. Cregan seems to enjoy this just as much as he stifles another laugh. 

“Eventually,” he said with emphasis. The three of you laugh loudly after the fact. How long eventually had been you never did find out.

Jace returns to the imposing high table where the Queen and her family sit in front of the Iron Throne. The look his mother seems to give him is stern and with a clap on Cregan’s shoulder he departs quickly to take his place next to Luke and Daemon.

“The lot of them are imposing,” Cregan remarks, flitting a glance at you after gazing at the many Targaryens sitting above you all.

“They are not all so bad,” you say smiling at him before looking back at The Queen’s family. You did not only think of Jace and Luke along with their cousins, but also of Helaena.

“Lady Alicent does not wear green now?” he asks gruffly, curiously looking at Lady Alicent. There is a glint of judgment in his gray eyes, not one to forgive so easily. If he is truly Jace’s closest friend, then Jace might have told Cregan what Luke had told you. The knowledge of Alicent Hightower and her sons labeling Jace and Luke as bastards was too vile a cruelty to ignore, but you pitied her in a strange way. Cregan did not seem to share your sentiment. 

He was right about her dresses, though. Her dresses had grown lighter shades of green in recent past weeks but now it was a shade of blue. “In certain lights I am certain that blue might look green,” you quip. The thought of saying horrible things about the former Queen did not tempt you, surprisingly. 

There is a long, comfortable silence that seems to stretch between you both. “Jacaerys has told me you hail from the Stormlands.”

He does not mention that you were born a commoner, the daughter of a fisherman. How unlike a certain silver haired prince he is. “I do. A very different land than this.” There is a faint smile on your lips as you recall your village. 

“You must miss it,” he comments, taking another sip from his cup. This time he does not slam it down. He is every part the kindly lord that many ladies form noble houses adore, if not rather gruff. 

His kindness is not unusual to you, having long since become used to such kindness from the dark haired Velaryons. To receive it from another noble blooded man who had no reason to be courteous to you was another thing altogether, though. 

“I can never be parted from Winterfell for too long,” he grinned and a look crossed his eyes as he remembered something unknown to you. Maybe the snowfall of the North. 

“We all long for home,” you concede. “Yet I do not know if I could ever tear myself away from the Red Keep now.”

He tips his head in a nod, understanding your reasoning in a way.

Then, Rhaenyra rises from her chair and her crown glimmers on her head in the candlelight. Your eyes are drawn to her as are the rest of the people around you. Whatever conversation you had with Cregan fades away.

“Today we celebrate the beginning of my reign. House Targaryen is stronger than ever. The tourney on the morrow and feast will show the realm how united we are,” Rhaenyra looks down the table and smiles. Even in her action full of warmth, there is an air of a ruler and strength within her. 

You want to absorb every moment of her speech and catch a glimpse of Luke’s family healing except you cannot. All you can see is Aemond’s lilac eye and the way even now, he is looking at you from his place at the high table. It unsettles you, pushing your mimicked figure of a composed lady off kilter, and seeing the satisfied look on Daemon’s face looking upon Rhaenyra is no better. He is looking at his wife, seeming as pleased as he could be. 

Was it true? Would he have killed Helaena’s children? Impossible. No one kills another family member.

The voices in your mind battle as you barely hold a grimace off your face. The other voice tells you that this is not your village and greed makes monsters of men. The Targaryens are hardly a united family at all. With the way the usurper looks at Aemond, grins maliciously before glancing at you, there is certainty that there are both men and monsters in this family.

Rhaenyra’s speech is over before you can grapple with your own thoughts. After a moment, you clap hastily. The smile you wear on your smile is fake, but your worries are old. Cregan does not notice the falsity of your pleasure. It’s better that way.

The Lord of Winterfell disappears back into the crowd of dancers and you retreat, finding comfort in the edge of the room. You could not dance for long. You were no learned dancer like the ladies in court. The thought of peril on this night had slipped your mind as you stood by a wall past the many tables.

“You dance well for a commoner,” an irritating voice murmurs near your ear. You didn’t need to look at him to recognize Aegon by voice alone, or rather the smell of wine. 

He stands behind you, leering over your figure and you tilt your head away from him, trying not to grimace. “Did you not hear me, hm?” he asks again, not bothering to conceal his laughter. 

You search the room, hoping to see someone. You would take Daemon’s intervention that would undoubtedly lead to violence over being near Aegon. But no one can be found. There was no one keeping you near him, though. You could leave.

Aegon tuts, grabbing your wrist harshly and tugs you back when you start to leave. Only now you are much closer to him than you were before. For a drunken man he has surprising strength, but you do not say this aloud.

“My little brother would be so envious if he were here now,” he mused, faking a sense of intelligence as he mocked your stiff body with lecherous interest. “You never do stop talking according to dear Aemond. Asked him if he was deaf, I heard.”

Aegon shakes his head slowly, drinking in your uncomfortable body with leering eyes. “And you told me you wanted to gut me like a fish. How vile you are and yet my wife does seem to adore you. Aemond never fails to mention how irksome your presence is, but I am sure there are some good parts to you, at least.”

Once your father said that the best of sailors can sense when a storm awaits them. They either flee it or fight the waves themselves. The sailor could drown either way. Best to fight, he always told you, but flee all the same. 

You roughly bring up your knee to his groin, kneeing him hard. He keels over from the force of him with a large groan of pain before mumbled curses at your person. Before he can say anything coherent you pinch his chin with your index finger and thumb, pulling his face to look at you. 

“Threaten me again, usurper, and I will go to the King Consort and he will make you wish I had gutted you like a fish. Your screams would be most pleasing to my ears.”

Releasing his chin, you look up, panting a heavy breath. Behind Aegon now stands Aemond and though he looks at you with a scrutinizing gaze, he does not reprimand you nor does his hand ghost over his dagger. Aegon sneers at you but his brother makes no move to help him steady himself.

You huff a heaving breath of air and turn on your heel. As luck would have it no one saw the altercation between you and Aegon. Any that looked now would see the prince who is always drunk in his cups too deeply. Only Aemond knew the truth.

Your chest tightened at the thought of Aemond having something over you and being the lone person knowing what had happened. Quickly, you turned away from them both and stalked over to the other side of the hall, anywhere that was far from the Targaryen princes. 

You didn’t even notice you had left the hall all together until you were in a quiet corridor far from the noise of the feast. It is there that you brush your thumb over the wrist Aegon had grabbed roughly. Bruises are not new to you but you hoped this one was different than the rest and come the morning there would be no evidence of his cruel behavior. The questions would bother you and there was enough to worry about as it is.

_______________

The bruise had blossomed around your wrist in the morning to your annoyance. Years of knocking into the wooden boat your father would fish on and being careless had led to a lifetime of bruises. You weren’t clumsy now and a bruise around your wrist would only cause questions. Questions that you did not want to answer.

You only allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and deeply breath in and out, because there is much to do today. Hastily you dress knowing that the Queen needs you, not to mention that you must see Luke. 

“Who has harmed you, my lady?” Ser Erryk asks when he sees you, briskly walking after you as you hardly gave him a moment before stalking across the castle to the Queen. “Your wrist—”

“A bruise is a bruise,” you whisper harshly, hating that your sleeves could not cover your wrist. “And do not speak of this to anyone.”

Ser Erryk is silent, but is perturbed enough to sigh temperamentally. “Prince Aemond—” he begins to accuse and all you can do is roll your eyes harshly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you bite back. “If Prince Aemond wished to harm me he would not have done so at a feast. He is not so careless or foolish.”

You are hardly aware when you felt the need to defend him nor do you recall even calling him Prince Aemond instead of Kinslayer.

“Who?” Ser Erryk insists as you both move up the stairs to the Queen’s rooms. 

This will not be avoided, it seemed. “Who else but Prince Aegon?” you ask him lowly, making sure no one heard. Hearing him make a noise of anger in his throat, you turn around to face him at the top of the stairs. “Do not waste your breath on the usurper, Ser. He learned his lesson. I think that he should still feel his bruise in his groin.” You smirk at the reminder, feeling self satisfied, before turning around to reach the Queen’s rooms. Ser Erryk says nothing in return but you are certain he is smiling. 

Rhaenyra breathes your name in relief when she takes note of your presence. With a wave of her hand the two maidens that were tending to her and readying her in your absence back away. She is nearly ready, half of her hair braided in twists while the rest falls past her shoulders and draped in black and deep red silks, her dress is a vision. 

“I left you too long this morning, I am sorry, your grace,” you frowned as you regarded her. “It seems the feast tired me and I was late.”

She waves you off too before taking a seat in front of her vanity. “Nonsense,” she refuted your apology. “I woke early. Could not sleep well knowing my sons will be competing in their first tourney. These events get bloody so frequently and I worry for Lucerys.”

You smile softly in silent understanding before reaching for her jewels. Over the months you have discovered just what Queen Rhaenyra prefers. While there are more important jobs, knowing what she likes and preparing her for her days is a task you are well equipped with now. Gently, you put one dangled ruby earring in after the other. Only after the other maidens leave do you speak again. “There was enough violence in a war. Blood is not what today is about, but peace. Luke will be well, my Queen. Aemond would not be so foolish to harm him.”

In the mirror, Rhaenyra stares at you for a moment. There is an inner battle in her mind, one that you do not know. She thinks to mention something, perhaps trivial, but disregards it all together as she smiles at you with rare warmth. She is stressed these days, all but being pulled at the seams. “I believe you are right, but a mother still worries,” she dismisses.

Draped in jewels and lush fabrics, Rhaenyra departs for the tourney. In the Wheelhouse, she is with you, Princess Rhaenys and Lady Rhaena. With every bump in the cobblestone streets that takes you to the grand event, you can only think of how much you loathe wheelhouses. “Where is Baela?” Rhaenyra has the self awareness to ask Rhaenys.

The older women only smirks, bemused. “She insisted on flying to the tourney.” At this Rhaena shuts her eyes briefly as she mutters gods be good, but her grandmother pats her hand in her lap. “Not to worry, of course. She just has a flair for the dramatic like her father.”

Rhaenys never mentions Daemon directly and you are sure the smile on her lips is not for affection for him. But Baela was so like Daemon and her insistence to do things the least simple way had not only Rhaenyra, but Rhaena smiling as well. On cue, a roar of a dragon and the hue of Moondancer was flying over the wheelhouse, much higher above you all.

The wheelhouse comes to a creaking stop and you are sure you might have jumped out of it, if decorum was not an issue. Rhaenyra exits and the shouting and noise from the smallfolk is overwhelming. They do not sound angry but excited, yet you feel like you might just pass out. Rhaenys then Rhaena exit and at last you leave the wheelhouse. 

The heat is still unbearable, despite your hair being braided in twists resting in a low bun. While you do not dress as traditional handmaidens had been, you do not look like a servant at first glance, being a companion to Rhaenyra and a handmaiden second. Still, you cannot look as grand and breathtaking as the royal family and for that you are grateful. At least the eyes of the masses do not linger on you.

You are sure that the stairs never end as you follow them up to the stand where the royals sit. Rhaenyra sits herself on a chair larger and more plush than the rest. To her right, her hand Lord Corlys, who stands and bows to her before taking his lady wife’s hand, assisting her to sit on his other side. Rhaena does not hesitate before walking down to the row below the Queen, taking her seat below Rhaenys where Baela already is sitting.

“Rhaenyra,” you hear Alicent say. Dressed in a blue much like the other night, Lady Alicent looks younger to you than the first time you saw her in the throne room. She curtsies as she stands by her seat on the opposite side of Queen Rhaenya at the very end. The empty seat besides her belongs to Daemon, though he will be competing in the tourney the consort’s seat remains in place. 

The apologetic look in Alicent’s eyes catch Rhaenyra’s attention as she looks at the lady. Her eyes glance at the empty seat below. “Where is Aegon?” she asks, but seems to already know. Only Helaena sits down there, one seat to the left from the end. 

At that, the princess turns around and when she sees you standing, she smiles and utters your name with fondness. “Sit with me,” Helaena insists, patting the empty seat at the end. “Come, Aemond will not be needing his seat. It would be a shame if you should not have such a magnificent view for your first tourney.”

You cannot resist her and Alicent offers you an albeit tight smile as you pass her.

“Have you brought it?” Helaena asks in hushed tones. You do not roll your eyes, but it is only because she is such a kind soul. She leans in, brilliant violet eyes wide as she regards you curiously. 

“I did,” you admit in a whisper, pulling out the favor Helaena had insisted you make a few nights ago. Besides trying to knock competitors off their horses, knights, lords, and even princes that compete in tourneys ask favor from ladies and princesses. Helaena had insisted you should make one. 

“Let me see it!” she nearly begged but she need not have as you laid it on your lap. It was made with yellow flowers and green leaves as it reminded you of the wildflowers at home. She gasps, reaching to delicately hold it in her nimble fingers. “This is most lovely, I should say,” she smiles in her rather dreamy way before setting it back in your hands. “Whoever asks for your favor will be most lucky indeed.”

You don’t have the heart to tell her that you doubt anyone will ask the Queen’s lowborn handmaiden for favor. The double meaning in her last words goes over your back like water. You ignore the way she smiles like she knows someone will ask for your favor. 

You know four men who are competing in the tourney: Lucerys, Jacaerys, Daemon and Cregan. Luke and Jace will ask for their betrothed’s favor, Daemon will ask his wife if not one of his daughter’s and you are sure Cregan will ask for someone’s favor, though it should not be you. Nonetheless, you cannot ignore Helaena’s kind words. 

 “Thank you, Helaena,” you say instead of anything else, but you cannot help but overhear Alicent behind you.

“He went to Flea Bottom again,” Alicent whispers, still speaking to Rhaenyra. “He has not left bed for hours. I worry for him. It has only gotten worse. This is a fine day and we should be glad he is not here, but I worry what he might be inclined to do when he leaves his chambers.”

You worry too and are glad you don’t let the grimace on your face show. The only distraction is when the tourney begins. Daemon has a flair for the dramatics as Rhaenys said when he lines up all the knights participating in the tourney. Besides his stepsons and nephew, there is no one he could not choose from the ranks. He takes his time as he looks at each of them, moving down the line on his black horse. You think he might be making a show of himself, enjoying the attention, but you would never voice that.

“Quite the peacock,” Princess Rhaenys comments, loud enough for everyone in the royal stands to hear. Baela laughs louder than the rest who are content to hide their chuckles. “Consistency was always Daemon’s strong suit.”

You make no noise of amusement at her quip, though an amused smirk lifts the corner of your lips. When he chooses Cregan Stark, your eyes widen. Perhaps it is because you had begun to know him last night that leads to a wave of nerves in your stomach. But the Lord of Winterfell only smiles, looking content with going against the Daemon Targaryen.

Dressed in the dark gray of his house colors with glinting silver armor, Cregan Stark moves on his dark brown horse to the other side of the arena. Even from a distance he appears self assured, almost nonchalant about facing a battle worn Prince.

When the horses kick off dirt and charge towards the opposite opponents, you consider that this is the excitement tourneys are about. The moment Daemon attempts to strike Cregan only to miss narrowly has you on the edge of your seat, but when they go for another bout a gasp passes your lips as Cregan nearly falls off his horse. Sliding alongside the railing while he horse runs he might have fallen if not for his determination as he sat upon his horse again. 

The entire stand is full of excited whispers at this and Daemon is quick to ready his joust, charging towards Cregan Stark for the second time. Things are fiercer this time around and it is clear Daemon did not think the Wolf of the North would be such an equal contender. The movement of Daemon’s joust is swift, deceptive as he pretended to move it to the side only to strike under Cregan’s horse. As Cregan falls there is little blood, you note there was no animosity between the two. Daemon goes to the Lord of Winterfell and brings him to his feet. What words are said behind their lips you could not tell, but the resentment that Daemon had when looking at Alicent Hightower and her sons is nonexistent. 

Helaena claps her delicate hands besides you, though the noise from her movement is quite loud despite the nimble touch. Turning your head, you catch a glance at her and you feel lighter at the sight of her toothy smile and enjoyment of the events below you both. Baela is standing a few seats down, clapping loudly in the most undignified way she could, though the smile on her and Rhaena’s faces are identical. 

When Jace appeared and Cregan climbed atop his horse again you could not be surprised. Jace’s dark horse moves to the stands and the bright smile that always errs on boyishness, a contrast to Luke’s trepid smile that always appeared like he was figuring out if he was able to smile, is directed to his cousin. Already standing, Baela walks over to him and leans against the railing. Jace does not mind as he regards her. 

“If I had your favor my lady I know there is nothing I could not accomplish,” he says. Baela smiles coyly, enjoying the attention and not hiding it as you hear Princess Rhaenys make a humph under her breath. Baela’s favor, bright blue and white flowers falls down his joust. “I wish you luck Jace,” she says with a pleased expression. Jace’s smile does not falter as he moves to the center of the arena.

You turn to Helaena about to say something about how lovely Baela’s favor was to distract yourself from the onslaught of competition to follow when you heard your name from a deeper voice strung with the address of Lady ever in front of it.

Cregan Stark sits atop his dark brown horse, tall and stately, although like many men in the Keep, he does not look arrogant or proud. He has an easy way about him, not smiling but not as stern when he looked your way. “I would be honored to have your favor, my lady. It would serve as the final stroke for my triumph in this tourney.”

Feeling several eyes on you at once, you rise from your seat beside Helaena and walk forward with the favor of white and yellow flowers in your hands. Not as naturally nimble as Helaena or Rhaena, you are making a herculean effort to not hold it too tightly. This gesture is a kind one from him, you think, and try to display some semblance of gratitude when you smile softly at him. “I wish you luck, Lord Stark,” you slide the wreath down his joust.

“I thank you, Lady,” he smiles and looks boyish as Jace had done but a moment ago. Striding off on his horse to face the competition, you turn and move to your seat. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent wear expressions of surprise with Alicent’s raised brows and Rhaenyra’s parted lips while Baela and Rhaena only smile at you knowingly. What they think they know is unknown, but when you catch Helaena’s fallen expression, you sit by her side again with haste, worrying over her.

Her toothy grin has fallen and by the twitch of her eyes, you can only assume she is perplexed over something. “Is something wrong, Princess?” you ask quietly to be sure no one else would hear you.

You hardly pay mind to Jace and Cregan kicking their horses and charging at one another. Nor do you notice when Jace hits Cregan with surprising force before they go for another bout. You can only look at Helaena as she recovers.

“Nothing!” she says hastily, pulling her lips into a pleasing smile. “I did tell you to bring favor and it is a good thing that I did.” Helaena laughs lightly in a way most of the ladies of the court do, but it only worries you further. This is not the light laughter she lets out in the gardens but something false.

“I would have thought he would ask for your favor,” you wonder aloud. “You are a princess, he is a traveling lord. It makes sense.”

“I am married and it would be improper,” she says with no real determination, shrugging at the thought. “Besides, Aemond will ask for my favor when he jousts against Lucerys.” Her clipped tone betrays any show of happiness at this, but for the first time you do not have the will to ask her if she was being honest.

Cregan Stark might have been bested by Daemon, but after a few rounds he has knocked Jace off his horse. The men both laugh like this meant nothing, and perhaps to them it was inconsequential, but then they left the field and two others entered.

Surely your heart had lodged itself in its chest as you saw Lucerys on his horse that was white as snow. He might have begun growing in the many moon cycles since you met him but when his uncle sat on his black steed it was no use. This was a horrible idea. Aemond’s heart was as black as his riding leathers he frequently wore and whatever peace Rhaenyra and Alicent had achieved was nothing to Aemond.

This was a ruse to him, an excuse to finish the job he had failed to do at Storm’s End. He was vile, truly, and how you had felt the need to defend him when Ser Erryk assumed he was the culprit behind your bruised wrist as if he had not sent Lucerys to the waves of Shipwreckers Bay? You felt the fool in the present, feeling sick to watch Aemond take his vengeance on Lucerys and show you who he was, and unable to look away from the scene.

Helaena’s fingers squeezed the top of your hand. A breath was released from your chest and with a heaving chest and wide eyes, you glanced at her.

“Are you well?” she queried, eyes scanning your face with worry. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you ask harshly, more so than you meant to be, but Helaena smiled softly.

“You are gripping the chair so tightly I might think you mean to break it.”

Her eyes moved to the wooden arm of the chair and you followed her sight, mouth falling open when you saw the leethal grip you had on it. “Oh.”

“Oh,” she repeated, more amused than anything.

“Sister, I wondered if I might have your favor,” a voice usually chilled down to the bones spoke with something that might be warmth if it were not for who said it. 

Helaena looked away from you to Aemond. As you followed her line of sight you took in the prince who wore armor without a scratch, all with the regalia of House Targaryen and their dragons.

This was all for show, a mere falsity all to prove that House Targaryen was united.

Helaena rises from her chair looking angelic as she moves towards her brother. From the side you can see how she smiles and it is similar to the way she looks when you are with her in the garden surrounded by bugs and flowers. She does not look like a princess, a former queen even, but a sister.

“I wish you luck, valonqar.”

The favor falls down his joust and you wonder what the word means, though it must mean brother. Helaena flounces back to where you sit as Aemond moves to the center of the arena on his horse. She says nothing, smiling at you warmly before setting her eyes upon Lucerys on his white horse.

Something has changed in the past few moon cycles and he is no longer quite the same as the boy you met one fated dawn. As Rhaena rises to go to him, you follow. His cousin is all warmth that a betrothed must be, but you only lean over the partition still every bit a fisherman’s daughter that is pretending to be a lady. 

“Good luck,” you murmur, eyes flickering over to where Aemond is atop his horse waiting. For what you are unsure, vengeance or a show of false amiability. “Knock Prince Aemond off his horse, I would enjoy that.” The words are teasing with the intention to make him laugh.

He huffs, shaking his head. For a moment he looks like the boy he was, not the man he was growing into. Briefly, you wondered if you had changed that much too and you suppose you had. “You overestimate my abilities,” he raises his brows. “But my uncle off his horse and on the ground would be amusing enough.”

By the grin he wears you know the mere thought made the worries leave his mind, if only for a short time. Without saying anything else, you turn from him, returning to Helaena once again. 

Lucerys asks Rhaena for her favor and the wreath and flowers slide down his joust. As young as it is you can see the love there in her lilac eyes to his brown ones. “Can you see it too?” you ask Helaena in a whisper.

Her eyes follow yours to where they both stand. Rhaena returns to her seat and Lucerys meets Aemond, but she seems to understand all the same. “They will be a fine Lord and Lady of Driftmark one day,” she agrees. “It is easy to see.”

You can almost forget the fears you had of what Aemond might do and how he would strike, but when the princes move, white and black horses charged forward. For a moment you can see the end— Aemond’s vindictive strike, Lucerys fall and the heir to Driftmark’s failure to rise after Aemond’s stroke, Daemon’s vengeance taking over Aemond’s. You can taste the bloodlust on your tongue before Aemond even strikes.

A white horse passes a black horse and Aemond’s joust comes down on Lucerys, but your weary eyes catch the direction of it. The wooden joust hit the white horse, but not hard enough to spook the animal or send Lucerys crashing down. It made little sense to you and the relief you feel as you grip the arms of the wooden chair is short lived.

Violence you could take. You might have welcomed it from Aemond if he matched the version of himself you had imagined the days after Lucerys told you everything so long ago. If Aemond gave you blood there could be comfort in that but this ruse of pretending to strike Lucerys only to strike his horse in a way that was clear the prince would never fall— well that you could not take.

His mercy was ill fitting. On Lucerys off all people you were certain was the last one he would bestow it on. 

The horses go around again and this time as they charge, neither hits the other atop their horses. Lucerys tries, at least that is what your eyes believe they see, but he only hits Aemond’s black stead shortly, before each prince rides the other way.

“I do not understand,” you murmurs, worrying your lip so much that it might be bitten bloody if this goes on much longer.

But Helaena is still beside you and turns, disinterested in the joust. Her eyes, large and alight with some unknown emotion you could never identify, but one that seemed to know more than others could, fell on your anxious frame. 

“All will be well,” she affirms, but your eyes cannot fall on her relaxed figure, not when Aemond is there, able to harm Lucerys at a moment’s notice. “No one will be harmed.”

Saying nothing, you want to laugh at that. There is no humor in the thought of it but Aemond could kill Lucerys if he liked. He did not need protecting but in your mind, Lucerys still did.

“Your brother rather enjoys hurting Luke,” you bite out. If you could have stopped the thought from leaving your lips you would have, hating to cause Helaena harm. But like Prince Aemond you could not seem to help yourself from insults and impulsive actions. “I doubt you can stop him if you’ve forgotten what he is capable of.” Now, your words come out softer, more regretful.

Helaena does not react at first. There is no sharp intake of breath or the opening of her mouth for some refusal of your words. He is her brother, after all, and a part of you imagines her defending him.

“No, I have not forgotten,” she says at last, head still facing yours, and the words are as soft as the glades of grass brushing against the back of your hand. Unlike yourself, she does not have to practice her gentleness and hope it is believable. 

“It is not possible to forget.” She is solemn, eyes drifting downward to the tourney field. 

As she says the words, Aemond and Lucerys have come to meet one another on the jousting field for the third time. Both of their jousts are facing the other and in a blink of an eye, both young men hit the other. In a mere moment, Lucerys is thrown off his horse, unmoving as you see the blood trickling down his face.

From the side of your eye, you see Rhaena jump up from her seat and it is only Baela’s hand holding hers that steadies her. 

Helaena’s breath then leaves her when Aemond’s back hits the railing before falling down. Unlike Lucerys he rises, though he visibly winces. Helaena is not the only one who is affected. She turns, consoling her mother who shakes her head, murmuring affirmations that Aemond will be fine.

You can barely hear anything over the dull noise in your ears. The blood rush to your head and your rapid heartbeat sends your worries for the past days into overdrive. Aemond and Lucerys are gone from the field, having been carried to tents to be healed from their injuries. The thought sends you over the edge, making you turn around to the Queen.

“Your Grace, might I see Lucerys? To check on his injuries?” Rising from your seat, you barely notice her solemn nod, approval written on her features because you scurry away down the wooden staircase down to the ground.

Several deep red and black tents have been drawn up, all so grandiose that you would usually have an ironic thought of the riches of the Red Keep all down to their tents, but your mind is hazy with fear. 

When you catch sight of a young man, even younger than Lucerys, with auburn hair and skittish eyes, you round on him. “Where is the Prince?” you ask with urgency, each word flying out of your mouth.

The auburn haired man blinks, confused as he regards you. “I—” he begins, red creeping up his neck and freckles cheeks before he stammers some more.

You shake your head at him, annoyed at the situation at hand. “The Prince Lucerys!” you raise your brows in frustration. “Where?” you attempt to be gentler, kinder, but even then you feel crazed.

He gestures behind himself to a large tent that looks the same as the other. Without thinking, you dash right into the one closest.

“It is only me!” you announce before evening entering the tent. Pushing past the thick material of the tent, you cannot see with clarity where he is in the darker tent. “Are you well? I feared the worst after he hit you off your horse.”

“I think you will find it was the other way around,” a familiar voice says indifferently from the other side of the room.

With the limited sunlight that pours into the room, you blink once, twice, thrice before it dawns on you.

“What are you doing here?” you spit the words, halting your steps as soon as you realized whose tent you were in.

Sitting on a table was Aemond. His arms were holding his upper body up and his silver hair, now moused and in waves from the heat and exertion, fell around his shoulders. His bare shoulders. Dried blood spotted his side from a few cuts that had yet to be clean. 

“I rather think I should be asking you that,” he replied in the same uncaring tone that somehow made him sound vexed by your very appearance. Almost like the air you were breathing belonged to him and he could barely tolerate the slight of it. “This is my tent, although I suspect I know whose you thought it was.”

You met his words with a glower, your body growing rigid.

His words cut through to an unamused breath of what must be laughter to a man as sinister as he. “The boy is fine,” he said without care nor respect for Lucerys. “A scratch will not kill him.”

“You hit him off his horse,” you spat, your neck leaning forward at the force of the words you threw at his face. 

He shifted his position, leaning the palms of his hands on his thighs covered in the same dark black trousers that must have been under his armor. The linens, though now filthy, hid nothing of his muscles.

For a moment too long you looked at how his fingers encompassed his thighs and knees. You had to bite your tongue to distract yourself, an action you swore never to repeat.

Aemond smiled showing teeth that looked like knives ready to aim for the kill. “You do know what a tourney is, do you not? One of us had to fall off the horse, tis how the game goes. Perhaps you never knew of such things in that wasteland village of yours.”

His words are sharper than usual, something you barely take into account because you are full of anger too and are glad to give it to him.

“Then you should have fallen off of your horse!” you hissed, stepping towards him angrily. “He is a prince who will inherit Driftmark. He is the future of his house, you are not! Why you had to throw him off his horse is unseemly.”

“Future of his house,” he mocked, shaking his head at you. “My, my, you have been listening to the words of men on the small council for so long you think you are learned in politics, do you not?”

You say nothing. A thin line pinches your lips shut in distaste, the gaze in your eyes growing heavy and hateful. 

“You know nothing,” he regards you from head to toe and it is obvious he finds you lacking. “A poor girl from a village who happened to save a prince, that is all you are. You are an arrogant creature, unfit to serve a queen. What my sister sees in your distasteful person I will never know. I do not care to. I see you exactly for who you are.”

You smile and like him you are spiteful. “You see what you want to, my prince.” You see a lowborn girl and think her worthless. “Why your sister thinks you are redeemable and true I will not think to consider, for it is a wasted effort to tax my mind for the irrational. I would never forgive a brother so vile, let alone love one without conditions as she does.”

“A good thing you have no brothers,” he tells you coolly. “You are not fit to love another as a sister does, I think.”

The words pierce through you as you think of the brother you had and lost. He does not know and you are glad he does not. Aemond does not need another knife to sharpen and use on you. 

You are no good at hiding how this barb was one too far, one too sharp, when your lips turn down in a grimace. Somewhere in your eyes there is the truth and he seems to see it for a moment, the ruthlessness of his lone eyes dimming for a spare moment. 

He does not know the tender wound he has poked too hardly into. The flesh bleeds anyways. For the very first time it occurs for you to care what he says.

Perhaps he hit too deep. Maybe the events of this day had been too worrying. The lack of rain your village in the Stormlands had in King’s Landing has strained your mind and the heat is too much.

There is a heavy cloud that hangs upon your head, pulling you down until you can only feel the discomfort words alone can bring. The way he stands up and the purple of his eye changes into something akin to confusion escapes your notice. You never see his fingers twitch��� not once thinking he might be reaching for you.

In that light his emotions in the purple of his iris might have been worry, not confusion. You notice no such thing. As quick as he stands, you flee.

By now it is habitual to flee from him. You do it in the courtyard when his eye finds yours. You left in the throne room at the feast as his brother was keeled over from your swift kick.

Why should now be any different? On all accounts it is the same feelings you leave him in a flurry of skirts— the discomfort in your chest at the way he regards you, cool and perturbed. 

Yet when you leave him this time, frustration not yet pulling tears from your eyes but landing a frustrated heave from your chest all the same, it occurs to you for a moment that this discomfort is not the same as the one so keenly known before. There is no part of yourself that wants to identify it.

The curtain feels heavier this time when you push back it, nearly tripping over your own feet when you feel the unveiled sunlight beat upon your neck again. What makes you nearly fall is not just your own feet, but the two faces you are greeted by. 

In front of you is head of braided silver locks, warm eyes, and a relieved, happy grin. Besides her is another silver head, this one of waves and large purple eyes you know well. 

“Lucerys is well!” Rhaena beams, ignorant of your discomfort. She gestures to the tent next to the one you are outside of— Aemond’s. Her brow creases, the only moment of worry, before it too disappears from her expression. “He has not seen you. I am certain he would be eager to, though, come.” Rhaena is ushering you in the direction of the tent, the smile on her face never leaving.

She may be none the wiser but Helaena’s eyes are on you and the tent behind your body. There is no escaping her perceptive stare and what is worse, Baela appears behind them both. Her eyes immediately looking to the tent, then to your figure.

Everyone seems to know where you were and there minds must be assuming what happened behind the tent. An unbearable heat seizes your chest, making your skin feel what you can only assume dragonfire feels to the touch. It takes the breath from you and for once, you cannot look at any of their eyes, your own flitting between the three pairs set on you.

Rhaena’s smile falters, genuine concern taking its place. She calls your name, once or twice, you cannot recall. Your feet move before your mind thinks it through, fleeing the scene. It will not be until you are off the grassy field where the tourney was held, far in the castle within an isolated corridor that you can breathe.

It is there that the shame creeps up, leaving you feeling guilt that crawls under your skin and makes you want to disappear. 

You had a habit of fleeing the scene.

You had a habit of fleeing Aemond at the first chance. 

Never had you felt ashamed of leaving him in a blazing fury. He was vile, cruel, ill-tempered and above all dangerous. Not once had you thought of him as others had— resilient, dedicated, devoted. 

The image of him moving towards you coupled with the look in his eye was all consuming to you. It was a feeling that could end your very being. 

Like the very night in Dragonstone where you slept in a room too large with opportunities too noble for your blood, you feared you would get no sleep come the night.

With a heaving chest and weak arms grasping a stone pillar for support, you knew the truth as you saw it— whatever his meaning behind his eye in the tent, you knew you wanted but one thing from him.

His hatred. You could endure not much else.

note: consider reblogging and comment if you enjoyed this- that's what motivates me to post my writing here

[perpetualimaginings]

How about bamon: things get awkward after their divorce and they have to spend one of the kids birthday together for the kids but they still are kinda irritated with each other? Lol I just found you I’ve read all your fics on archiveofourown!

I'm responding to this so very late, I apologise!! Such a fun prompt - thank you so much 🖤 Am very tempted to expand on it as a one shot...

"Who is that ?" Dylan's mom spits the curly straw out of her mouth, spraying cola (and Malibu) onto Bonnie's arm. She's oggling the dark haired man swaggering into the party hall - black jeans and matching tee accessorised with the silver aviators Bonnie once thought were sexy as hell. Past tense.

"My ex husband," she grits out, and marches over to him.

"What are you doing here?"

Damon grins down at her, revelling in her annoyance already. "Diego wanted me to come."

"You could have texted."

He shrugs. "I did. I texted Maeve."

Bonnie fights back an audible groan, "I meant me, not our eleven year old." She gestures at the rather fancy box of chocolates in his hand, "Are those for Diego because you know he can't have-"

"They're for you," he holds them out to her, "For organising all of this." He notices the banner Bonnie had painted, hanging along the opposite wall. "I see your art skills haven't improved."

"Better than yours ever were," she retorts, scratching at the plastic film around the box. It does not go unnoticed by him.

"Wait until you see the card I designed for-"

"DAD!" Diego interrupts the almost familiar flow of banter. She's relieved, only the tiniest bit disappointed.

"Hey big man!" Damon laughs, as her, their, now eight year old barrels into him. "Wow, nice face paint."

"You need some too!" Diego, the dinosaur, commands.

"No, no, I don't think-"

And Bonnie can't resist saying: "Daddy would have to take his sunglasses off for that."

And Damon can't resist pushing them off his face, into his har...and winking.

His eyes are still the same startling shade of blue they've always been. In fact, the age folding at the seams only makes them bluer.

Diego drags him away towards the face paint table, yabbering to the poor teen she hired that Dad HAS to be a tiger. When Damon catches her eye and quirks a challenging brow, her eyes flicker upwards, on instinct. When she glances back at him, he's smirking.

Bonnie pops a chocolate in her mouth and decides it's time to prepare the cake.

You're totally watching my ass, she thinks, smirking too.

[j0hnj4ej3n]

chenle: blind date

Word count: 847

Warnings: implications of old toxic relationships

Notes: this is Chenle's part of 'nct dream as love tropes', enjoy!

You’ve been single for quite awhile and it’s been lovely, don’t get me wrong. There is so much joy that comes with singlehood as well as being in a romantic relationship. But you’re not going to hide that it gets lonely sometimes. At the same time, because of your past relationships, you still feel wary about entering into a relationship. How do you open up your heart to trust someone and love them again after what happened? 

Your friends however, were quick to sweep in to help you get back into the dating game. So now, you’re walking towards the cafe to meet this guy your friend set you up with, your heart racing in your chest. You’ve texted back and forth for maybe two days, just to arrange for today. So, all you know about him is his name and how he looks based on his profile picture. You push the glass door open, setting the bell on the cafe door off. You’re ready to find an empty table for Chenle and yourself, expecting to wait for him since you’re slightly early, when you spot him, raising his hand to wave you over. 

Chenle even got up to pull your chair back for you, greeting you cheerfully while you apologised for making him wait. “So sorry, did you wait long?” “Don’t worry about it, I just got here too.” Conversations flowed naturally with Chenle and the nerves you had prior to meeting him began to fade, your chest feeling lighter as you allowed yourself to just enjoy your time with him. The two of you were similar in many ways: your music taste, your preferred cuisines, even movie genres. Even if you two had differing options, you’d enter into discussion and playful debates causing laughter to rapture between the two of you. And perhaps it’s still early to tell him but you’ve already grown to love the way he laughs. How his eyes crinkle up and his cheeks will turn a light shade of pink from laughing so hard. You’re not too sure yourself, but in that moment, just watching him laughing excitedly, you felt a slight blossoming in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach that remained still for so long finally fluttering their wings again. 

The two of you eventually leave the cafe, both with your second drink in hand. Chenle holds the door open for you and you thank him before walking out, him trailing behind you. For the first time that afternoon, a brief silence overcame the two of you. But before you could open your mouth to ask, Chenle beats you to it. “We should meet again. Are you free, maybe the same time next week?” You can’t help your cheeks from rising, as you smile back almost shyly before responding, “Sure, same time next week”. 

If you were honest, you never expected yourself to fall in love again. You always saw love as a cruel thing, meant to break and burn. But maybe you just never met the right one, until now. 

“Did you like me from the very beginning?” “Yea, I did.” “Why?” “I just did. I don’t think love needs much reason honey. I simply couldn’t get enough of you.” It was true, your weekly dates slowly turned to meeting each other every other day. 

Chenle was such a joy to be around, he helps you forget all the bad that chained you from loving again. He replaced every painful memory with a new, exciting, beautiful one. Every time you’re tempted to pull away and retreat, you look at Chenle and you know in your heart he will never treat you like how the men in your past did. 

Even when you did finally bring up your past relationships, your insecurities and your fear of truly falling in love again, Chenle simply listened to you. And he held your hand the entire time. “You didn’t deserve that. I don't know what else to say except I’m sorry.” He lets you cry into his shoulder and pats your back to calm you down. Chenle doesn’t judge you, instead reacts with a gentleness and love you haven’t felt in a long time. “It’s okay, we don’t have to move too fast if it’s still scary for you.” “Thank you Chenle.” “Anytime baby.” 

Chenle taught you that love can be simple. That love can be freeing. That was what the kind of love you and Chenle shared. You finally felt like you could be yourself again, you were breaking out of your shell. You were learning to be vulnerable again, learning to trust without doubting. You were smiling wider, laughing louder and falling has never felt this easy. 

Being in love with Chenle helped you realise that maybe you needed all those lessons and heartbreaks. Because they eventually led him to you. This was a new page, a fresh start, a blossoming new love. From that fateful day at the cafe, you were set free of your chains from the past by the boy with the bright smile and contagious laugh.

[mark-of-chrysus]

#18

He had been stupid and careless. Again. Only this time it had been someone else who had paid the price.

Hubris.

Danny thought he was untouchable. It's easy to understand why. He was a man who couldn't die, or more accurately, couldn't stay dead. There was nothing anyone could do to him to make him break, not anymore, not after he had repeated his life so many times he could tell you what would come to be in 30 years spot on.

He acted on impulse, and did things without thinking them through because what's the worse that could happen? Excessive pride had let him to provoking Eugene, using his deepest darkest secrets to threaten him, and for what? Fun?

Daniel tempted fate, forgetting that although he was not bound by it others were. His friends were. His mother was. Jay was. And although he knew that, come the next loop, they would not even recall the horrors they had suffered and their broken bodies would mend themselves as if it had all been a mere dream born of a sickened mind, it didn't mean anything to him in the end.

"No" Had been the first word that slipped past his lips when he lay eyes on the mangled corpse of his beloved.

Daniel swallowed the bile, unconsciously cataloging each injury and automatically knowing how it had been done. He knew how those injuries were done because he himself had both experienced and inflicted them on others. He stumbled, suddenly dizzy and vaguely nauseated.

Burn marks covered his darling's once fair skin, almost entirely covering the other wounds present on his torso. There were bruises. Cuts. Punctures. His face was a pale shade of gray and his lips were swollen. His love's last moments had been spent gasping for air, the torturous end deliberately prolonged for the attacker's sick entertainment. The bastards had FUCKING STRANGLED him, slowly...painfully... (cut off their hands~)

Gently, he caressed Jay's cheek and for a moment wished he could pretend that the blonde was just asleep, waiting for Danny to wake him up by peppering him with kisses. Then he took the body in his arms, carefully holding it as if it were made of glass. He took it-HIM! home and laid him on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest like ancient kings.

The funeral was a messy affair filled with sobbing and streaming and blaming. It wasn't how Jay would've wanted. It was horrible and the boy returned home quietly with a gaping hole in his heart.

It didn't take long for the numbness to fade, washed away by the raging storm of anger.

How dare those filthy maggots lay their disgusting hands on his beloved?!

Red...(More~)

Did they think they would get away with their odious actions?!

Blood...(Yes~)

He would make them pay!

Whose blood...?(More~ More~)

They deserved to suffer for their sins!

There were too many of them to count...(MORE!)

He would not forgive them for this!

It didn't matter anymore...(It didnt~)

THEY WOULD PAY!

...the blood...it didn't matter whose it was...(It didn't matter! Just bring us more!)

...

...

...

The loop reset again...It didn't matter...He would continue his mission regardless...they would pay...in blood...with their lives...again...and again...until he would be satisfied...until they learned...until-

The loop tugged at his soul in warning, coiling its dark tentacles around his neck threateningly. No more! it seemed to hiss in his ear. Enough!

Reluctantly, he obeyed.

Pity! I only got to torture them for a measly 20 loops. Well, it just means I have to get more creative! If physical torture was banned it just meant he had to mess with them in other ways. He already had plenty of ideas. After all, the mind was fun to toy with as well! (yes~)

[humanitysong]

okay instead of the nsf.w hcs I was tempted to post I'll just talk about va.sh first relationship,,,

his first relationship was with a woman named miriam - he kind of just wandered into her life. va.sh often earns his money by doing little tasks all over town. thing is, back then va.sh was still kind of new to this lifestyle ( since in tri.stamp I HC he stayed with home until his twenties & in tri.max he traveled with knives for 80 years so while they probably did occasionally go into towns he still lacked a bunch of experience ).

miriam first met him when he was working in a bar & the two of them got talking. after a while she warmed up enough to him to hire him for her big project : building a school. well. not a whole school building as we are used to, the older kids had their place already but she taught the younger ones in her own home & figured a cabin with a classroom & a playground for the kids would be a good addition to the town. as payment va.sh stayed at miriam's home.

this is also pretty much where va.sh learned how to fix a bunch of mundane stuff. he often helped around the house while he wasn't building the cabin. it was a pretty relaxed time for him with the most ruckus usually coming from the kids ( not that va.sh minds since it's canon that he's rlly good with handling little ones ).

he isn't sure at what point he and miriam got together but they just did. he really was happy during that time. realistically he knew that things would get complicated at some point ( he'd have to tell miriam that he is a plant, that he doesn't age. he also knew that she might react badly to that information & even if not he would need to leave at some point before people ask question & he wouldn't want her to uproot her life for him ).

but things have a tendency to not go smoothly when it comes to vas.h. the plant in town experienced issues & as he tends to do, va.sh rushed in to help. only for someone to see his body react to the other plant & chaos immediately ensued. vas.h was dragged in front of the town as they discussed what to do with him - some saying to just ignore it because he had helped them for months now while other insisted they could get a pretty penny for him & really, the town needed it.

it was miriam who distracted people & helped va.sh escape. they hid for a little where va.sh revealed his past to her. she wasn't really angry with him nor terrified but she did feel slight disappointment that he had not told her before. vash did of course ask her to leave with him & she agreed.

however, while running away a shot, meant as a warning hit both but while va.sh 'only' got shot through the arm, miriam was hit in the back. seeing va.sh cradling her & crying, the town decided to stop their chase of him. both were rushed to the doctor. the moment va.sh heard that she survived he made the choice to quietly leave by himself. he never did return to the town nor contacted miriam again - from then on he also focused on wandering around, helping other plants & looking for knives.

anyway lil hcs from that backstory

miriam had a sister who had several kids. somewhere out there is a photo album with adorable photos of va.sh just going dad mode. like va.sh sleeping in a rocking chair with a lil one cradled in his arms.

he also kept his hair down most of the time back then which added a rather soft look to him.

I personally hc he stayed with her for about 5-7 years. if he hadn't been so aware of his lifespan, va.sh would have absolutely proposed.

also miriam did move on from va.sh. she was sad that he left without a word but understood after a while. she absolutely did live a happy life afterwards. also as an apology to her - & kinda to va.sh - the town painted the school cabin in a shade similar to the red of his coat.

[seigephoenix]

Kinktober 2024: Drunk/High Sex

So it's high sex instead. Same difference though.

Ship: Hancock x Sole Survivor (Georgia) Content Warning: fingering, dubcon (only because drugs are involved), p in v, rough sex, biting, mentions of cheating (past), toxic marriage (past) Length: 3.2k

Georgia collapsed onto the couch in her home, breathing in while letting the stress finally melt away from that disastrous meeting.  She curled her arms around the pillow and tried to block out the entire thing from her head.  She just wanted to forget, but Nate’s words in her mind made that impossible.  They were both so nasty to each other, she kept thinking about their first meeting.  Things had been so good between them before Nate had to go to war.  Georgia knew that he’d changed, everyone was changed when they came back.  She hadn’t quite understood until she was in the thick of things here in the Commonwealth.  She fully understood what kind of things Nate had faced back then, and why he’d pulled away from her.

“Mama?” Georgia looked up as the synth Shaun came through the door and knelt beside her.  He wasn’t her Shaun, but she couldn’t just leave him down in the Institution either.  Her Shaun had tried to leave him as penance for everything he’d done.  Nothing would erase what happened, what the Institute had done, but this Shaun was blameless in it all.  Georgia had never been able to punish a child like that, and so he came to live with her.  She’d grown to be so fond of him already, he was a bright boy.  To everyone else, he was her son.  Georgia would take the secret with her to the grave.  Father had assured her in a holotape left behind that Shaun would grow as a normal child and grow into a man eventually.  Georgia wished things were different, but wishing never did anything.

“Yes baby?” She reached out and ran a hand over his bangs, smiling as they bounced right back.  His hair was the same shade as her own, but his eyes were all Nate.

“Are you alright?”  Georgia’s breath caught as her emotions threatened to spill over but she bit it back.

“Yeah, just had a rough day.  That’s all.  I promise,” she said with a reassuring smile but her son wasn’t buying it at all.

“Do you want me to get Hancock or Mr. Garvey?”  Georgia chuckled and shook her head.  She promised Shaun she’d be okay as soon as she could get some sleep.  “If, you’re sure?” Georgia nodded and ruffled his hair.

“Such wise words from a pipsqueak.”

“Hey!  I’m almost as tall as you now!” Shaun protested as Georgia chuckled.  He stood and looked down at her.  “I asked if I could stay with Duncan, his Dad said okay.  Is it okay with you?”  Georgia snickered at the thought of MacCready having to monitor a sleepover with his son and hers.  Just the thought was enough to amuse her as she knew he’d be either a good influence or a terrible one.

“That’s fine with me.  MacCready won’t let anything happen to you boys.  Don’t torment the poor man, alright?” Shaun agreed and with a salute he ran off towards MacCready’s small home in the settlement.  Georgia turned her face back into the pillow and sighed heavily.  She heard the door open and didn’t bother looking up.

“I’m not going to check on any settlements today.  I just want to be alone,” she said to whoever was standing beside the couch.  “If you are here to kill me, get in fucking line.”

“Well now, that is a mighty tempting offer there darlin’, but I’m not here to kill you.”  Georgia turned her head to the side and huffed as she saw Hancock standing there.  “If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man right now.”  She shifted until she was sitting and he wasted no time taking up that space.

“I’m not going to be good company right now Hancock.  Please.”  Georgia sighed as he blew out the cigarette smoke, she watched it dissipate in the evening air of her home.  “I had a shit day.  Week actually,” Georgia said as she pressed the heel of her hand against her eye as if that would erase the toxic shit Nate had said to her.  She liked to think her parting words had left him speechless before she’d come back to the Commonwealth from Nuka-World.  If your raiders think of touching my settlements, I’ll tear your whole operation apart.  Georgia looked over at Hancock when he offered her the bottle.  She accepted and brushed her thumb over the label.

“Daytripper?  Tryin’ to say something Hancock?” Georgia asked as she looked at him.  She was no stranger to chems, hell her family business back in the day was all about less than legal distribution.  She’d helped manufacture more than a few of these types of drugs, though her father was more particular towards Jet.  Hallucinogens were common enough in the college dorm she’d stayed in.  All those overworked and overburdened students expected to take over their family’s businesses loved to take them and get lost in their own minds.  “You know I don’t use chems, it’s been a sticking point between us.”  Georgia handed him the jar back but she was sorely tempted.  It would be nice to let go and not worry about Nate, the Commonwealth, or anything else for just a night.

“Why not?  You got enough burdens, might be nice to let loose for a night.  I’ll keep an eye on you too, being the upstanding citizen that I am.”  Georgia scoffed as she accepted the bottle from him again.  “What your husband said back there…”

“Ex-husband.  Nate and I aren’t married anymore.  Any document supporting it has long since eroded away from radiation damage or time.  Just like our fucking marriage.”  Georgia didn’t hide the bitterness from Hancock.  He needed to know how she truly felt about her ex-husband.  Once there’d been gentle and sweet love between them, and Georgia would admit to herself she missed that time in her life.  A life she’d felt accepted and loved for who she was and not what she could do for people.  She missed her in laws fiercely, Nate’s parents had been fucking amazing to her.

“Still, there’s a lot to untangle there ain’t it?” Georgia sighed and tapped out two of the pills.  She eyed them carefully before popping them in and swallowing before she could think better of it.  If she remembered right, it would take around half an hour for the pills to kick in and she’d be as high as a fucking kite.

“Too much.  I’m not in the mood to go picking around my inner feelings right now anyway.  It’s bad enough what happened with the Institute, but now I gotta find out my ex-husband is alive?  That he just up and fucking abandoned me and our son.”  Georgia clenched her jaw against the bile that rose up in the back of her throat.  Hancock took a long drag of his cigarette as she struggled to find the words to explain just how much rage she had locked up inside of her.  “I did it all.  I gave birth to Shaun by myself while he was off fucking one of the barracks bunnies.  Took him home only to have Nate immediately go to a gentleman’s club with his friends.  While I’m there, taking care of a newborn and still fucking bleeding.  His parents bought us a house in the suburbs because that’s what you fucking did.  White picket fence, popped out babies, and had your robot butler make dinner for your family.  You ignored all the blisters, wounds, and toxic piled up between you.”  Georgia leaned her head back against the couch.  “Divorce wasn’t unheard of, but I had too much riding on my marriage to Nate.”

“What do you mean?  You can take care of yourself just fine,” Hancock said and Georgia gave a bitter laugh.

“Here?  Yeah, I can.  Back then?  Divorced women were considered lower than low.  Spoiled goods.  My family didn’t want nothing to do with me as soon as I went off to C.I.T.  They had my precious brother to take care o’them.  Nate’s parents…  The world didn’t deserve such good people in it.  Genuinely good.”  Georgia scrubbed a hand over her face and felt the drug starting to kick in.  “You think I’m a decent person?” Hancock nodded and put out his cigarette before tossing the butt in the trash.  “They were fucking saints compared to me.  I couldn’t divorce Nate.  I didn’t want to lose them if I’m honest.  So, we lived together and had Shaun.  God, it was a fucking mistake.  I love my son; I mean look at what I did to find him.”  Hancock let out a dark chuckle at the reminder of how she tore the Commonwealth to shreds finding her son.  “He’s the only good thing to come out of that marriage,” she said.

Georgia glanced towards him when his fingers tucked some of her hair behind her ear.  “I told you, I’m not good company tonight.”  Her eyes moved back to that same spot on the floor she’d been staring at since she sat up.  “I never am when it comes to my ex.”  She took a deep breath before letting it out and hoping the drug would kick in faster.  She just wanted to forget all about that jackass.  To her surprise, Hancock’s fingers grasped her chin, turning her face towards him.

“Never worry about sharing your burdens with me peaches,” he murmured leaning in and nibbling at the outer shell of her ear.  Georgia’s lips parted on a quiet sigh when his hand brushed across the front of her vault suit.  She whined when his fingers tugged at the zipper, slowly revealing her skin inch by slow inch.  “Not wearing anything underneath?”  Hancock eased the suit from her shoulders, pulling until it piled at her waist.

Georgia groaned as the chem began to work its magic.  All the anger melted away under a euphoric cloud and all she wanted was to be fucked until she couldn’t remember her own name.  “Oh, I plan on it peaches.”  Georgia groaned as she realized she’d said it out loud.  She whined when he stood only to tug his own coat off, tossing it over the small table she kept by the door.  His hands returned to her hips, pulling, and tugging until her vault suit was tossed next to his coat.  Her hands reached for him but he knocked them away.

“Hey,” she whined when he stroked the inside of her thighs, pushing her legs wider until he could settle between them.  “Hancock.”  He shuddered and merely stroked his thumbs just on the sides of her panties.

“You know I love it when you say my name like that.  Like molasses dripping off a candy.”  She groaned when his thumb pushed under the fabric, tormenting her with whisper soft caresses.  “The way your voice goes soft when I touch you right here.”  He pushed against her clit and a soft moan filled the room.  Hancock leaned in and his teeth tugged at her nipple through the sheer fabric covering it. 

“I haven’t showered yet.  Don’t.” Georgia tried to push his head away.  Heat burst low in her belly when he gathered her wrists together, holding them in one of his hands.

“Do I look like a man that cares?”  Georgia stared down at him before heat flushed her face and she turned away from those heated eyes of his.  “Just relax.  Let me take care of whatever you need,” he murmured against her stomach when he moved down to the sensitive skin.  His teeth nipped her trembling stomach, leaving behind a mark.  He smirked when she whined at him.

That sound she made had him hard, it was so needy.  This was not a woman who left herself vulnerable or admitted to needing anything.  She was only this soft when you broke through that tough as steel exterior.  He’d never get tired of hearing her voice crack when he brought her to an orgasm.  It was as euphoric as that first huff of Jet to him.  Hancock grinned against her stomach while his free hand cupped her.  He wanted to groan; her panties were soaked.  He could feel just how badly she wanted him.  Hancock wanted to smash her ex’s head against a wall for doing this to her.

“Hancock,” she murmured as he pulled her underwear off, lifting her hips to help him just a bit.  He let go of her hands to lift her leg over his shoulder.  His teeth left a mark on that smooth skin, something only he’d see.  A reminder that he was here with her, and he’d never make her feel shitty about herself.  Georgia’s head fell back and he knew the drug had kicked in for her.  She’d lost that reserve that she always kept up.  As if she was worried, he’d say something to her.  Always eager to please him, but now it was his turn.  He was going to have her screaming his name, and then he’d fuck her until her legs didn’t work properly.

Hancock leaned in until she reached out to stop him.  “Not tonight.”  He knocked her hands away and his tongue flattened against her clit.  He groaned at how her thighs squeezed his head.  Her head fell back and that wealth of blonde hair came tumbling out of its sensible bun.  He’d been amazed the first time he’d seen her hair; she kept it long despite everything.  The golden locks spilled over her shoulders, curling around her nipples through the bra.  Her face was flushed, eyes glazed over, and that blonde hair framing her face.  It painted the picture of one of those ancient goddesses he’d read about on old terminals.  She was a goddess and he was going to worship her.

“Hancock.  Wait.” Georgia whined as his tongue dipped inside her while his thumb massaged her clit.  She didn’t know if it was the rough texture of his thumb or the way he didn’t let her think, but she found herself curling around his head.  “I’m.”  She couldn’t even get out the word before the tension snapped.  Her back bowed and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

“There we go peaches.  Come all over my fingers.”  Hancock chuckled as her body tightened even more when he slid two fingers inside to ease her through the climax while his tongue brought her up over that peak.  Her legs went limp around him and he leaned back.  His cock strained against his pants at the sight of her.  Hancock grinned and rose to his feet, sitting down beside her on the couch.  He was happy that she came and her mind was too blissed out to think about anything else, combined with the daytripper she was going to sleep well that night.

To his shock, she turned to face him before climbing onto his lap.  “Whoa,” he said before grabbing her hips.  Georgia glared at him before grinding her hips down on his cock.  His head fell back and he bit off a curse.  “Fuck.”

“We’re not done Hancock,” she said while her fingers fumbled with the front of his pants.  She had his cock free and her fingers closed around the base before stroking him.  “Not by a long shot.”  She flashed him a wicked grin and any resistance melted away.

“Then do what you want to me peaches,” he whispered in her ear.  He hissed when her body sank down on his cock.  Her arms draped over his shoulders as her hips slowly rolled against his.  She hooked her feet over his thighs as she kept a leisurely pace.  Frustration began to gnaw at his insides, she wasn’t going fast enough for him.  His fingers tangled in that long, luscious hair of hers and pulled her head back.  His teeth latched onto the sensitive skin and he felt her squeeze his cock in response.

Georgia didn’t think of anything except him.  Her mind was full of how she felt, how his cock felt inside her, and the orgasm that was slowly flaming back to life inside her body.  His teeth tightened that little coil of heat and she moaned his name.  The pleasure was hazy hot, like a July evening, and she wanted more.  She squirmed on his lap, trying to find the friction she wanted.

“You want me to fuck you like you deserve, Georgia?”  That voice growled in her ear and she nodded, already losing her mind to the heat inside of her body.  “Fine.  Don’t come crying to me when you can’t walk tomorrow.”  She yelped when he stood, grasping her thighs and then slammed her back against the wall.  She hissed out at the flash of pain but her walls clenched hard around his cock.  “Like that do you?  My little hellcat.”  His hips slammed against hers, dragging against her clit with each brutal thrust.  Georgia’s cries bounced off the wall, but the blazing pleasure left nothing in her mind except chasing that orgasm again.  Her nails dragged over his shirt, digging into the skin of his back.

She crossed her ankles behind him, meeting him thrust for brutal thrust.  The scrape of the wall against her back heightened the pleasure and sensations running through her body.  Heat tightened between her legs into a frustrating level, she needed something.  Georgia buried her face against his shoulder as her body strained for release.  Hancock chuckled at how she silently begged him for more.  “You gonna come for me?  Like a good girl?”

“Want to.” She groaned as he adjusted the angle of his hips, hitting that spot inside her that had pleasure bursting low and hot between her legs.  Liquid fire.  She clenched her jaw and struggled to get just the right angle, and he adjusted his grip when she found it.  “Please.”

“Alright.  You let me do it for you then,” he said and brought them back to the couch.  Her back hit the cushions and he leaned down over her.  He reached between them and massaged her clit in time with his thrusts.  Her head snapped back at the violent crash of heat through her body.  She cried out his name with each wave of pleasure throbbing through her body, until his name was a song to her pleasure.

Hancock pulled out and spilled himself in the towel next to the couch, he wasn’t gonna let her deal with the aftermath of that.  Georgia was blissed out underneath him and he had to grin at it.  Soft, pliant, fucked out, and not thinking of a damn thing except him.  He could get used to seeing her like that, but she wasn’t going to like sleeping on that couch all night.  “Come on peaches, let’s get you into bed.”  Hancock chuckled as she sat up but was wobbly when she finally stood on her feet.  He easily scooped her up, ignoring the faint protests from her lips, and took her into her bedroom.  “Go sleep that daytripper off.”  He settled her on the bed and pulled the cover over her.

“Stay.” Georgia grabbed his arm and he was sorely tempted.  “Please.”

“For you?  Anything.”  He sighed and knew from the beginning he’d never tell her no.  Not when she asked in such a sweetened honeyed voice.  He eased into the bed behind her and she turned and curled up against his chest.  He wasn’t sure if the daytripper made her cuddlier or if it was the trauma from the day.  Either way, he’d keep her safe while she slept.  Nothing would hurt her as long as he was around.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

i loved everyone’s guesses for her costume! it’s cute how they keep referring to her as her supposed costume name ☺️ i wanted to shake both of them though and be like YOU LIKE EACH OTHER IT ALREADY CAN BE MORE!! bradley’s proposed halloween costume would’ve been lethal though, some might even say it would be a license to kill 😉 more below because i have so much to say ⚫️⚪️⚫️⚪️

A name that Amelia had thrown shade at no less than five times as she worked on designing the event flier - as she should

When he’d arrived Nat, decked out in a sequined pink gown with a gun he wasn’t sure was fake or not strapped to her thigh for her Miss Congeniality costume - this is the PERFECT costume for nat holy cow i’m obsessed

“…and too heavy looking to have been bought off Amazon.” - OBSESSED with this little detail

It was the first and last time he’d taken Fanboy’s advice and you teased him about it every opportunity you got. - bradley going to mickey for advice!?! oh i’m HOWLING with laughter. i know he got chirped so badly for that

You, 10:34pm: If you want to come over. - her tacking it on at the end all nervous 🥺☺️ oh she likes him so much! trying to be cool and breezy for the man who is the definition of not cool and breezy haha

Normally it was always so crowded that he never felt like he could take his time looking without being in someone’s way, that he’d skip it entirely and later try to convince himself that his Greek yogurt was just as good. - oh bubba no 🥺 get the ice cream, you deserve it sweet boy (also bradley at the relatively empty grocery store at night has me feeling some kind of way 🥺)

He looks over the top of your head to see some guy lingering at the end of the aisle. “The guy who looks like off-brand John Mayer?” - bradley 🤭 funny boy

“Ok then, mister tempting-fate-with-salmonella, what’s your stance on the great vanilla bean vs French vanilla debate?” - he does live on the edge after all 😉 (i love this line)

“Nah, just watching my figure. The containers are smaller and I have a sweet tooth.” - BUBBA NO 🥺🥺 oh my sweet boy you’re perfect! i agree with the reader, he already looks so pretty

“Oh, ok. That’s, um, that’s good.” You sound almost… disappointed? You take a step towards the case and he drops his arm back down to his side, already missing the feel of you under it. - 🥺 they’re both so bummed the charade is over!!! personally i’d be hiding my disappointment too girl ✊🏻 (also i love her rationale for suggesting rocky road)

Bradley just lifts a shoulder. He’s used to looking out for other people, it’s just something he’s always done. - 🥺☺️ he’s the best boy! he’s so sweet! but now he needs someone to look out for him!!

“And you’re so much hotter than him, so I really lucked out there with you as my knight in ironed  khakis,” you say unabashedly, reaching out to straighten out his already perfectly straight name tag. - i’m GIGGLING 🤭 THE NAME TAG 🤭 this is so intimate for some reason!?!!

Your hands tightly fisted in his hair and your breathy whines in his ear urging him to fuck you harder and faster until you come with his name in your mouth. - goddddddddd it’s not FAIR!!! why can’t i have a cheeky grocery store run in!!? (but also i’m dying to know why it never got past just sex?)

There was no mistaking you were asking because you wanted to know more about him, and not fixated on the shiny sheen of his golden aviator wings. - best kind of girls 💁🏼‍♀️

That night was the most real it’s ever felt. And he wanted more nights just like that. - THEN WHY ISNT IT REAL BRADLEY

He liked that you texted in full sentences with complete and proper punctuation. - this is only hot when the other person doesn’t and i stand by that

And then in the morning he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and take one more look back at you before leaving through the same door he’d shown up at only hours before. - THEN WHY ARENT YOU STAYING BRADLEY

“Aren’t you too old to be in a situationship, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, interrupting his thoughts. - fuck off blondie, let him process it on his own!

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous all of a sudden, he’s never had an issue asking girls out before. - THEN WHY DIDNT YOU ASK HER OUT BRADLEY

Rooster holds his breath when they start and stop a few times, each time they disappear and come back again his heart pounds a little harder in his chest. - i just know she was so nervous!!!!

He can’t even begin to guess what you’re dressed as because other than the night he met you, it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in. - first i love her blouse, it’s something i’d absolutely wear too so double points for that, but this??? ‘it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in’ is unreal! like something about that made me so sad, they both want so much more. (i can picture her making sure her outfit is all righted and her hair and makeup are all touched up before she heads out to see him, especially if like bradley said, he doesn’t see her properly dressed up often? it’s it’s veering into something else with this)

“That’s for me to know, and for you to spend the night guessing,” you smirk, the curve of your mouth promising mischief. “But I think you’ll like it once you figure it out.” - it’s funny because i know 🤭

He steps in close, winding an arm around your low back pulling you in close. “James Bond,” he says, enjoying the way your eyes light up. - H O T T O G O 🤭🤭

“Your future girlfriend, I thought it was pretty obvious.” - cheeky cheeky girl i LOVEEEEEE it so much, it’s also something i just know bradley would do too so that’s how you know they’re perfect for each other

You put a finger up and twist a little in his arms to rummage in your purse. And when you turn back towards him you’ve got a bright red clown nose on your face. - this funny but also a little sad if you think about it like if he didn’t like it or said no? 🥺 (jordan this is not an angsty fic you goon!)

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

Summary: It’s been a couple of months since the two of you have started hooking up, and it’s no secret that Rooster is hung up on you. He takes the gamble and invites you to the yearly Halloween bash at the Hard Deck. The only problem is he can’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be. 

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.2K

Warnings: allusions to smut and Rooster being a simp (but what else is new 😂) (mdni)

The Black Keys’ “Howlin’ for You” playing loudly over the static-y speakers of the Hard Deck masking the sound of Rooster’s fingers as he impatiently drums them on top of the worn table, uncaring of the fact he’s out of tempo with the song.

Penny’s yearly Halloween Spooktacular has always been a fan favorite with those stationed at North Island. A name that Amelia had thrown shade at no less than five times as she worked on designing the event flier the afternoon that the Daggers had been bribed with free beers for coming in on their free time to help decorate.

There wasn’t an inch of the bar that was left untouched, and it wasn’t just that Bob had gotten carried away with the downy spider webbing. There were orange and purple string lights threaded around the circular mug racks, floating candles over the pool table, dangling bats and streamers, and an enthusiastic but poorly executed attempt at a balloon arch over the entry door.

The wispy fog covered punchbowl with a suspicious dark purple beverage bubbled away on the bartop, tendrils cascaded over the side only adding to the atmosphere. The stuff was so potent that Bradley was pretty sure it would put the jungle juice he’d thrown back in college to shame.

Rooster had been tasked with curating the playlist for tonight’s party, and if he’d been paying even a little bit of attention, he’d have known his choices were being well received by the boisterous crowd. But his attention is half split trying to listen to Hangman’s story about the Halloween prank gone wrong that left him with twelve stitches and half listening for-

Ding

He’s quick on the draw to pull out his phone from the chest pocket to check if it was his that went off.

When he’d arrived Nat, decked out in a sequined pink gown with a gun he wasn’t sure was fake or not strapped to her thigh for her Miss Congeniality costume, had given him a look of disdain and said what he was wearing was low effort even for him.

Rooster tucks his phone away with a disappointed sigh when there are zero new notifications on his lock screen.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so whipped over a girl before, Bradshaw,” Hangman drawls, leaning into the gunslinging cowboy thing he has going on for the evening. His shirt is unbuttoned more than is strictly necessary, and is complete with a belt buckle that is larger than the state of Texas and too heavy looking to have been bought off Amazon.

Ding

Bradley fishes out his phone again from the pocket he’d put it back in only moments earlier.

You, 10:32pm: “u up?”

He grins.

“And we’ve lost him,” someone snarks, but he’s too busy punching in the password to unlock his phone to care.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:32pm: are you ever going to let that go?

You, 10:32pm: Mmm, no. You were so bad at being a fuckboy, it was funny.

You, 10:33pm: But in a very hot way, might I add. And clearly, it worked in your favor since I let you come over and hit it a second time.

Rooster snorts in amusement.

It was the first and last time he’d taken Fanboy’s advice and you teased him about it every opportunity you got. He had been a little rusty with the ins and outs of no-strings-attached sex with someone who wasn’t in the Navy. But he’d more than made up for it that same night by eating you out until your legs were shaking and you were weakly pushing his head away as he’d coaxed you into coming just one more time against his tongue.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:33pm: don’t remember hearing you laughing last night when your pussy was dripping all over my cock

He takes a sip of beer as he waits for your response.

You, 10:33pm: Look! You’re already so much better at sexting than you were when we met!

You, 10:34pm: “u up?” is still on the table, by the way. Not to brag, but I even have a pumpkin shaped pizza. 

You, 10:34pm: If you want to come over. 

If you want to come over. He shakes his head reading the text again.

As if he’d ever pass up on getting to spend time with you.

As if Rooster hadn’t been hooked on you since the moment he’d met you.

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢

As a general rule, Bradley hated grocery shopping.

He’s never had the patience for it, with the way that everyone is in their own world. He gets tired of always having to weave around people and the way that there always seems to be carelessly parked carts or people catching up standing between him and the items on his list.

Which is why when he noticed the parking lot was mostly empty on his way home, he decided to stop and spare himself the headache of doing it over the weekend when everyone else was out and just get it done.

He’d expected to be in and out in record time until the uniform lines of colorful cartons of ice cream caught his attention as he was tossing in a few bags of frozen chicken into his cart. Normally it was always so crowded that he never felt like he could take his time looking without being in someone’s way, that he’d skip it entirely and later try to convince himself that his Greek yogurt was just as good. But tonight since no one was around, he was taking his time.

Under the glare of the fluorescents, he stands there with the hum of the freezers competing with the too-twangy-for-his-taste country song playing over the speakers and debating his options when he feels an arm thread around his own, surprising him out of the pros and cons list he was making in his head between the healthier low-calorie choice versus the one he actually wanted.

“Hi, hello there.” Bradley glances over to see the prettiest pair of eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Do you mind playing along for a few minutes, there’s some creep who keeps trying to bother me.”

He looks over the top of your head to see some guy lingering at the end of the aisle. “The guy who looks like off-brand John Mayer?”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’d be the one.”

“How good are you at picking out ice cream flavors?” he asks, standing up straighter and pulling his shoulders back.

You blink at him in confusion before your lips tick up in a relieved smile. “Very good, as a matter of fact.”

“Great, you came to my rescue just in time.” Bradley guides you closer until you’re in front of him, lightly resting a hand on your hip the way he would if you were his girlfriend. “Is this ok?” he asks under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear.

When you nod, he feels the knot in his chest loosen. Because while he wants this to be convincing to the guy still loitering at the edge of the aisle, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“First things first, we need to establish a baseline.” You point at the carton covered in cartoony looking chocolate chip cookies. “What’s your opinion on cookie dough?”

“Overrated,” he answers, not missing a beat. “I’d rather just eat the stuff out of a tube instead.”

You lean back into him a bit more. “Ooh, tough crowd,” you tease, your head finding his shoulder. “Ok then, mister tempting-fate-with-salmonella, what’s your stance on the great vanilla bean vs French vanilla debate?”

Bradley takes a quick look around to make sure they’re not blocking any other late night grocery shoppers. He pretends to ponder for a moment before responding, “I like the one with flecks.”

“A dignified choice.” You say it so solemnly that he can’t help but chuckle.

The easy back and forth banter goes on for a few more minutes. Sometimes you rib him about his answers and other times agree. It shouldn’t be so fun standing there in front of the cooler filled with tubs of ice cream, but it is. It was the last thing he could have expected when he’d decided to stop in at the last minute on his way home after hitting up the Hard Deck.

When he tells you the two choices he had been contemplating before you’d come up to him, you hum contemplatively and tap a finger against your cheek, “Well this changes everything if you’re dairy free.”

“Nah, just watching my figure. The containers are smaller and I have a sweet tooth.”

“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about. You fill out those khakis just fine, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Rooster wonders if you can hear his self-satisfied grin. “Not every day I get a pretty girl telling me she was checking out my ass.”

You let out a small, amused scoff and all he feels is pleased with himself.

“I was not checking out your- oh.” The surprise in your voice has him leaning back enough to get a look at your face. “Wait, is he gone?” You peer around his shoulder, but don’t make a move to pull away from the gentle hold he has on you.

“He left around the time you were giving a very impassioned speech about how overlooked spumoni is. I probably should have mentioned it sooner, but you were making a pretty compelling case and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, trying to play it off casually and hoping that he didn’t just become the creep in this story when you tell it to your friends later.

“Oh, ok. That’s, um, that’s good.” You sound almost… disappointed? You take a step towards the case and he drops his arm back down to his side, already missing the feel of you under it. “Thank you so much for committing to the bit. Seriously, I truly appreciate it,” you say over your shoulder, opening the glass door.

He rubs the back of his neck, watching as you grab a carton out of the freezer, not sure whether to move on with the rest of his shopping or not. But when you turn back towards him, he’s hit with the full force of your smile, feeling it all the way to his toes.

“Rocky Road,” you say, setting the carton into his cart. “It has peanuts in it, which is a nutrient-dense food and an excellent plant-based source of protein. There’s collagen from the gelatin in the marshmallows. And chocolate has antioxidants in it and is known to trigger the holy trinity of happy brain chemicals. It’s basically a superfood.”

Rooster grins. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“No, unfortunately, it really doesn’t,” you agree, playfully leaning a hip against his cart. “But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

He’s so fucking charmed by you and he doesn’t even know your name yet.

While he’s glad he was there at the right time and got to play a small part in deterring that guy from continuing to hassle you, he kind of wishes the two of you could have met under different circumstances, because he’d jump at the chance of being able to score a date with you. He sighs and shakes the thought out of his head.

“Would you like me to walk you to your car?” Rooster offers, ready to abandon his groceries for a few extra minutes with you.

“Oh wow.” That mischievous gleam that had been in your eyes changes to something softer. You tilt your head, taking him in with a thoughtful expression on your face. “You’re one of those rare genuinely a gentleman types, aren’t you? Like the kind who always walks closest to the curb and mows their elderly neighbor’s yard without being asked.” Bradley just lifts a shoulder. He’s used to looking out for other people, it’s just something he’s always done. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you muse, contemplatively, “I should let you know though, knock-off John Mayer is my ex.”

He feels his hackles rise up immediately and scans the area again to double check the guy isn’t still hanging around. “Is he harassing you?”

“Oh no, it was only an unfortunate fluke, I promise,” you say, patting his hand that’s gripping the handle of the shopping cart reassuringly. “He’s just a jackass who thought he could cheat on me and that I’d still take him back.” Bradley grunts at that, even more irritated than he was before. “But he was still trying to test the waters, even after I told him I was seeing someone,” you continue, with a roll of your eyes, “Which was technically true- even if I am in fact single right now- because that’s when I saw you over here gazing very intensely into the freezer case like you’d been personally victimized by Ben and Jerry.”

“You’re out of his league anyways,” he rasps. 

There’s no way in hell Bradley would fumble a girl like you.

You grin widely, clearly amused at his annoyance on your behalf. “He was a tool with an overinflated ego and a flat ass.” Rooster barks out a surprised laugh. “And you’re so much hotter than him, so I really lucked out there with you as my knight in ironed  khakis,” you say unabashedly, reaching out to straighten out his already perfectly straight name tag. “You really went above and beyond for your country there helping me win the break up.”

“I don’t think you needed me for that part. It’s pretty clear you came out on top.” His eyes dart down to your hand on the cart, like you forgot it was still resting on top of his. “But I was more than happy to help all the same.” He takes a half step closer into your space, deciding just to go for it. “I’m thinking we should keep up the ruse though, you know, just in case he is lurking by the pasta or something.”

You quirk a knowing eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“I could also use your professional opinion on cereal. That is if you still have some more shopping to do,” he suggests, nodding to your mostly empty handbasket.

There’s no question that he’s caught your interest, not with the way you’re looking at him. That smile you’re wearing tells a story of its own. “What a coincidence, that just happens to be my forte.”

“I had a feeling you might be the right girl for the job.” Bradley takes your basket from you and sets it in his cart and gestures for you to lead the way.

He learns your name around the same time he does about your hottake on Frosted Cheerios.

And later that night, his groceries are packed away in your fridge as the container of Rocky Road the two of you were sharing melts on your coffee table- the condensation puddling on the marble surface reflecting the credits rolling across the TV screen- as you ride him on your couch. Your hands tightly fisted in his hair and your breathy whines in his ear urging him to fuck you harder and faster until you come with his name in your mouth.

And in the morning, he gets your number over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

The two of you have been fooling around for a couple of months now.

On the nights Rooster wasn’t fucking you, he was getting himself off to the thought of you and wishing you were in bed with him. You’ve never been to his place, so he doesn’t even have the bonus of that bright citrus scent of you lingering on his sheets on the nights he spends alone.

The sex was great. Mind-blowing. You were loud and enthusiastic and gave just as good as you got. Bradley found your confidence sexy as hell. You were the type of girl who knew exactly what she wanted and he was always up for the challenge of finding new ways to make your back arch and toes curl.

But he was just as much of a fan of the parts that came before and after getting you spasming around his cock.

He liked the way your mind worked. You were always telling him about something interesting you’d read, because you were naturally curious about the world around you. You asked him thoughtful questions about his job and his life in the Navy, but not in the way he was used to from the tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck. There was no mistaking you were asking because you wanted to know more about him, and not fixated on the shiny sheen of his golden aviator wings.

Rooster has never laughed as much as he has with you. In those moments between catching your sighs with his mouth and waiting for the knock on the door for whatever late-night craving was being delivered, you’d have him laughing and grinning until his cheeks ached.

The closest he’s ever gotten to taking you on a proper date was that one late night drive-thru run when everything on delivery apps were closed. You’d looked like his favorite daydream sitting there under the glow of the streetlamp in the nearly empty parking lot in a shirt of his that he must have accidently left behind after a hook up.

That night was the most real it’s ever felt. And he wanted more nights just like that.

He liked the way you always seemed to have a documentary to recommend for any given topic, he has a list on his phone and has been working his way through them. He liked the way the glasses you wore sometimes seemed slightly too big for your face because it was cute the way you’d constantly push them back up your nose. He liked that you texted in full sentences with complete and proper punctuation.

Bradley could already imagine how tonight would most likely go.

He’d dip out of the party early and come to your place. Your tongue in his mouth and your greedy little hand tugging to get his belt undone before he’d even made it through the door. The two of you going at it until someone has to tap out- which he is smug in the fact that more often than not it’s usually you- now that he knows all the best ways to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sometimes the two of you order in, and other nights you’ll pass a bowl of ice cream or cereal back and forth over the island in your kitchen where he gets to hear you laugh and tease him and tell him about your day. Then do it all over again and once you’re thoroughly spent, he’ll hold you as you fall asleep. And then in the morning he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and take one more look back at you before leaving through the same door he’d shown up at only hours before.

And that was fine for now, but he wanted more of you. He didn’t want to be just a casual hook up, he wanted to date you.

He wanted to be soft launched and hard launched, or whatever it was that Mickey was talking about that night he’d taken his misguided advice and sent the much teased “u up?” text. He wanted to block people in the chip aisle of the grocery store as you talked him into getting some crazy flavor, turning his least favorite chore into the highlight of his week. He wanted knockoff John Mayer to see he got the girl and knew how to treat her right.

He wanted you to be his girl.

“Aren’t you too old to be in a situationship, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Fuck off,” Rooster grumbles, his eyebrows furrowed and his thumbs still hovering over the screen. A couple minutes have ticked by since your last text as he sits there stewing. He knocks back the remainder of his beer, it’s mostly foam, “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“No, you’re not. Bob hasn’t even performed the dance routine to “Thriller” yet,” Nat says, pinning him to his stool with a look, “Come on, Bradley, just invite her here.” She reaches overs and squeezes his shoulder. “You’ve been seeing her for a couple months now. You’re clearly into her, and you wouldn’t disappear on us as much as you do if she wasn’t into you too. This is a low stakes environment with everything going on and people off having fun doing their own thing. And the two of you can still go and do whatever you’re going to do after.”

“I don’t know, Phoenix, she might dump him when she sees what he’s wearing at a Navy bar on Halloween,” Hangman drawls, unhelpfully, grinning around that damn toothpick.

“Shut it, Bagman,” they both say simultaneously.

“Just throw it out there and see what she says.” Nat slides out of her seat, the beads on her dress scraping against the edge of the stool. “Now, we’re going to let you panic in peace for a few minutes while we get another round.”

“We’re?” Jake asks slowly, deliberately drawing out the word.

“Yep,” she confirms, the look on her face leaving no room for arguments as she tugs him off his seat. “And you’re paying, let’s go.”

Bradley scrubs a hand over his face, but not before he sees Nat punching Seresin in the arm on their way to the bar.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous all of a sudden, he’s never had an issue asking girls out before. Not that he’s ever had to work that hard for it, but still.

His knee bounces on the foot rest as he works out what to say. He types out the message and gives it a quick once over and hits send before he can overthink it.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’d never say no to you or a pumpkin shaped pizza. But I’m actually at a Halloween party right now at the bar near base with some friends. And I’m thinking you should stop by.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’m sorry it’s a last minute invite, but it’s always a good time and I think you would have fun. I’d like to see you, if “ur up” for it.

He tries not to dwell on the fact he just double texted you, a thing he didn’t know he should be worried about before Fanboy warned him about doing it.

It’s like he’s been hit by lightning the way he shoots up in his seat when he sees those little dots appear on the screen. Rooster holds his breath when they start and stop a few times, each time they disappear and come back again his heart pounds a little harder in his chest.

You, 10:44pm: I’m all in. What’s the address?

All the bubbles from the beer he’d had earlier swarm and rush to his head at once as he drops you a pin.

Nat pushes a shot of bourbon towards him across the table when they return. “Did it go well?”

He nods. “She’s on her way.”

“Good, because you know Halloween is my favorite holiday and your sulking was bringing the vibe down.”

He chuckles, there’s no way he’s beating those whipped allegations now.

She clinks her own shot with his and they throw them back together, the warmth of the expensive tasting liquor sticks behind his sternum.

The next thirty minutes are the longest of Rooster’s life. His head swings to the front door every time it opens, hoping that it’ll be you outlined by the purple, green, and orange string lights.

When he sees you come through the swiftly deflating balloon arch scanning the bar for him, he almost does a double take.

You’ve got on a black and white polka dot top, the cuffs are a flared ruffle that are tied with a bow at your wrist. Your skirt is plain black, but the way it hugs your hips leaves little to the imagination. He can’t even begin to guess what you’re dressed as because other than the night he met you, it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in.

Excluding those little silky matching sets you’re usually wearing when he comes over. But those don’t usually stay on too long before they end up on the floor of your living room. Or bedroom. Or kitchen.

He usually has to leave before you, so he’s usually headed out your front door while you’re still wrapped up in one of those fluffy white towels you have. He’s enjoying seeing you here in his favorite bar in that outfit and heading towards him like you’re just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

“Huh, if I'm not mistaken I’m pretty sure that’s what I sent you into work in this morning,” you say, grinning up at him and lightly tugging on the zipper of his flight suit. “Are you supposed to be a Walk of Shame?”

Bradley wraps an arm around you because he can’t help himself. “Please, we all know it’s called the Stride of Pride. It’s never a shame when I get laid.” He presses his fingertips into the swell of the top of your ass before leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, “Plus, I didn’t have time to go home and grab my costume because someone lured me back into bed this morning.”

He had to do 200 extra push-ups and stay behind to do paperwork as penance for being late the third time that week, but it was worth it. But by the time he was finished, the sun was already well on its way to setting. If he’d been a bit more forward thinking he would have brought the costume he had planned with him, instead of thinking he’d have time to swing by his house to change. Bradley didn’t think it was too much of a let down for you, not with the way you’re looking at him. It’s that same heated way that tells him you’re remembering your reaction to it the first time you’d ever seen him in it.

“Sounds like poor planning on your part,” you tease, your finger tracing the edge of his nametag. “I can’t believe you’re wearing your work clothes to a Halloween party, Rooster.”

“Ok, funny girl. Tell me then, what’re you supposed to be?” He takes a step back and gives you a blatant once over, taking his time admiring the shape of you from your head to your toes in some wicked looking heels and back up again.

Maybe if things went well tonight, you’d leave them on for him later when he gets you alone.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to spend the night guessing,” you smirk, the curve of your mouth promising mischief. “But I think you’ll like it once you figure it out.”

“Bradshaw, are you going to introduce us to your sexy librarian?” Hangman hollers, waving the two of you over back to the table with his hat. Bradley doesn’t hear as much as he sees the oof that comes out of the blonde when Phoenix sends an elbow into his side.

Rooster glances at you with a raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head. Not a sexy librarian then.

“I take it you know the rodeo clown?”

He tips his head back and laughs, already looking forward to telling Hangman. “I do. And Gracie Lou Freebush over there too.”

You wave over at Nat, gesturing to her costume and mouth obsessed, before turning back to him to ask, “Is that gun real?”

“I’m too afraid to ask,” he jokes, only half kidding. “C’mon let me get you a drink, I have an in with the bartender.”

“Are you trying to show off for me, Bradley?”

“Definitely.” He reaches out and toys with the end of the bow on your sleeve. “Is it working, Leslie Knope?”

You just send him that devastating smile of yours and thread your fingers through his. “I think I'm going to have so much fun with this tonight.”

“But full disclosure, you see Napoleon Bonaparte?” He points over to where Mav is behind the bar wearing tasseled shoulder pads pouring pints behind the bar next to a bedazzled Penny in a white neoclassical style dress. “That’s my godfather and his fiancée.”

You school the surprise on your face quickly. “Bradley Bradshaw, are you a nepobaby?”

“That’s a story for another time.” He chuckles, carefully winding his way around a Fred Flintstone and a Deviled Egg to the bar. “Be warned though, the Blue Slime Sipper is lethal. I had four last year and put on an a cappella performance of the Ghostbusters theme song.”

“Please tell me someone has a video of that,” you laugh.

“I called in every favor I had to get all evidence of that particular performance erased.”

At the bar, you order two Blue Slime Sippers looking the picture of innocence as you admire the giant spider affixed to the top of the bar by the till, even though he knows better.

One for him and one for you.

He briefly introduces you to Penny and Mav, trying to keep it casual. Thankfully, it’s busy enough that there’s not more time for small talk or jokes about the frosted tips he had when he was thirteen.

Their guess at a modern day I Love Lucy was also met with a no.

But he’s pretty sure Mav’s attempt to stealthily shoot him two thumbs up after you get your neon blue colored drinks fails based on the way your lips are pressed together in an attempt to smother the smile that he sees toying at the corners of your mouth.

Over the course of the night, it becomes a game that the rest of the team joins in on as he introduces them to the girl he’s been hung up on for weeks.

You help him kick Payback and Fanboy’s asses at the Eyeball Beer Pong that Penny had set up outside on the deck.

“Damn, Lawyer Barbie has an arm,” Fanboy says, the spring of the Slingy Dog costume sagging sadly between him and Payback, watching as you sink another doodled on ping-pong ball into a cup.

“I think we need a rematch,” Payback countered after their loss, “Flight Attendants have great hand-eye coordination, it’s an unfair advantage.”

Both guesses were met with a no.

When you side with Nat over Death Becomes Her as the best, but most underrated, Halloween movie, she throws her hands up in victory, “Thank you! Finally, someone with good taste… Olivia Pope?”

It’s another no, but he’s happy to see how much fun you’re having with his friends.

Between the riotous costume contest voting, and the one-man performance of “Thriller” that Bob puts on, and the pumpkin tic-tac-toe, Rooster has a lot of fun making his own guesses.

Except for the time he offers up Miss Bliss, he nearly chokes on his Cauldron Cooler when you ask him, “Is that a porn thing?”

Which in hindsight, he probably should have specified from the show Saved by the Bell, that he only knew because he’d been into Tiffani Amber Thiessen as a kid, but he doesn’t get to because you’re too busy delightedly laughing at his near spit-take.

He sticks close to your side, an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist. There’s a moment when he gets worried he might be smothering you, but then you’d lean your head on his shoulder and he figured you were right where you wanted to be.

The two of you step outside when the Monster Mash smashburger contest starts up, the song following you to the sun-bleached wooden deck.

There are less people out here now, a few people are stationed behind the ping-pong table and others are seated on the picnic tables chatting and swapping stories. Most of his friends had stayed inside to cheer on Coyote’s attempt to hold onto his burger eating crown.

It’s the first time all night that he has you on your own, and while he appreciates how welcoming his friends are with wanting to make you feel included and slipping in more than a few jokes at his expense, he’s ready to have you to himself for a while.

But first.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re supposed to be?” He runs a finger along the ruffle down the front of your shirt. “I think I’ve lost count of how many failed attempts I’ve made now and It’s starting to take a toll on my ego.”

“How about this, you tell me what you were supposed to be and then I’ll tell you what my costume is,” you offer, playfully.  

You’re still toying with him like a cat does a string and he doesn’t mind a single bit.

He steps in close, winding an arm around your low back pulling you in close. “James Bond,” he says, enjoying the way your eyes light up.

“Now that’s something I would love to see,” you murmur, running your hand along his arm. “Not that the flight suit isn’t working for me.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you.

Rooster shakes his head amused. “I’ll put it on for you later if you want.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you, but you haven’t seen him in a tux yet. “Now, I’ve been dying to know since the moment you walked in, what are you dressed as?”

You grin, wide and bright, like you’ve been waiting for this all night.

“Your future girlfriend, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley doesn’t waste a moment bringing both of his hands to your face and getting his lips on yours. A surprised noise escapes from the back of your throat before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more. His tongue chases after the sweetness of your mouth. He can’t get enough of it.

He can’t get enough of you.

“So I take it, you like my costume then?” you ask against his lips.

“I’m about to go swipe that trophy from Cousin Itt because yours is the best one here by far.” You giggle when he pulls you back in to kiss you again- or tries to. “C’mon, sweetheart, I need you to cooperate here. I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

But then his teeth click against yours because now you’ve got him smiling too.

You skim another soft kiss against his mouth and lean back. “You know, I did have a back-up costume, just in case things didn’t go well.” You put a finger up and twist a little in his arms to rummage in your purse. And when you turn back towards him you’ve got a bright red clown nose on your face.

“Are you kidding me? The only clown here is Seresin.” He chuckles and gently pulls it from off your nose. “I’ve been trying to figure out how lock this down for weeks now. That tux was going to be my ace. It’s about a half size too small, but I figured it might do the trick to make things more official. It’s a good thing I’ve got a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Bradshaw. I still want to see you in it.”

“I can make that happen. Especially since that means I get to take you home with me tonight.” He drops a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got an idea about what we can be next year though.”

“It’s not even midnight yet, and you’re thinking about next year?”

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m all about playing the long game. Just want to give you something to look forward to.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, giving him an expectant look.

“Considering how we met and all, I think contestants from Supermarket Sweep would be a solid choice for us. There’s nothing sexier than some khakis and sweatshirts.”

You look delighted and amused and like his.

“Done. You know I am a big fan of you in a pair of khakis.”

Rooster tugs you to him again needing to taste your grin. He hears a cheer go up inside of the bar, probably for whoever won the contest, but he pretends it’s for him.

After all, he’s the one who got the girl.

Happy Halloween! I'm dropping a smitten Rooster into everyone's candy bucket this year! Thank you for reading!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 23-25 – Saturday-Monday, 17-19 June - The Aeolian Islands

Saturday

After breakfast, a local guide arrived to take us on a walking tour of Lipari town - Lipari is the largest of the Aeolian Islands and where our hotel is situated. It was hot by the time we got started and it stayed hot all day.  We walked up the steep hill outside our hotel and then down into Marina Corta with its pretty fishing fleet, brightly painted shops, and burningly hot white open square. 

Lipari Marina Corta and the white, hot town square.

Some people were already buying ice-creams, but the next stage of the walk was not quite as steep and it was largely in shade because it was along a fairly narrow laneway between some taller buildings.  There were more shops and restaurants on both sides, but it was onward and upward for us, heading for the Cathedral of St Bartholomew on the top of the hill.  The cathedral looks in quite good condition but there are some Cloisters at the side that have obviously deteriorated over the centuries.  We were allowed in but there was not a lot to see – strangely, they reminded me of some other larger cloisters we have seen, but I can’t recall where.

The Cloisters

St Bart’s was just as impressive as all the other churches, duomos and cathedrals we have seen – but how do you compare one level of opulence or historical/ecclesiastical significance with another?  (And how have they created enough saints to dedicate all the thousands of churches to each of them.)  They all have elaborate and intricate stories around them and are probably all important for one reason or another, but the significance is hard to comprehend in today's world due to the elapse of time, the alien nature of the structures or events, the temporal and cultural differences, and more.  What is the norm for us today is often so diametrically opposed to conditions two or three centuries ago (or six or seven millennia ago), that it is hard to make sense of some of the historical facts.  I have been struck by the level at which Catholicism is embedded in people’s thoughts where we have been – and they take for granted (and act upon, without question) things that we would consider as irrational, superstitious or even supernatural.  In some respects, the level at which religion is embedded in the culture and drives behaviour, tempts one to imagine that they (and we, while we are there) are living at least a hundred years or more in the past.

Something that I probably found as interesting as 'not another church' was some old Roman Baths that have been partly excavated not far from the church. It is still a work in progress, but the design was quite clever in separating hot and cold water and fresh and 'used' water. I don't recall the details but it sounded clever when our guide explained it. Unfortunately, I probably don't pick up more than a quarter of what we are told due to my hearing problems unless I can stand quite close to the speaker when we are in crowded places - and if they turn and address people away from my side of the group, I lose that too.

As an aside..... I have developed a cough over the past few days and it is becoming uncontrollable.  I don’t have any other symptoms (occasional mild headache but that might just be too much sun - or beer!), but once I start, it is almost impossible to stop.  It is a bit distressing for me, but also embarrassing, because I don’t want other people to think I am spreading some dire contagion.  Some others in our group are also coughing, but nowhere near as bad as me.  (Two weeks later, I am still suffering, and I will refer to it from time to time, but it has been my constant companion and a severe, almost debilitating frustration to me throughout this tour.  I reckon I picked it up on the ferry from Bastia, but Heather insists that it was later than that!)

It was a very hot day (36, I think) so when we walked back down to the square, I was looking for a coolish place for a drink.  I found a shady café with a wonderful breeze straight off the water, so we sat and each ordered a cold drink.  We were the only ones there and the owner brought us a few little delicious snacks to enjoy with our drink.  We suspect it was to invite us to stay a little longer and encourage other customers to join us – if so, it worked, and fifteen minutes later, his café was more than half full, mainly with our crowd, but others as well.  Obviously, having a few extra patrons is an attraction that brings more in.  We often find that when we seek out a quiet place to be on our own, the place almost immediately starts to fill up.  On this occasion, we had an second drink each and by then, we reckoned it was lunch time so we ordered something light – and got some unexpected extras on the side.  Interestingly, none of our fellow diners got the freebies so we are reasonably confident in our ‘sit and bring them in’ theory.

We walked back to the hotel, but took a wrong turning (maybe we just didn’t take the right turning) and were soon lost.  Well, not exactly lost, but further from the hotel than when we started, and needing to take quite a different route to find our way back.  We were overdue for a cold drink (and a cool shower) when we eventually got back.

Dinner was in the hotel again that night but I couldn’t stay the distance.  I was coughing so much that I skipped dessert and retreated to our room and coughed my lungs out most of the night.

Sunday

We did some island-hopping today.  We walked to Marina Corta again and took a small boat to another of the Aeolian Islands, Panarea, a few miles away.  En route, we passed the smallest of the Aeolian Islands, Basiluzzo, with its stark craggy companion-rock at one end,  We cruised quite close and very slowly so people could take photos and I was hopeful of seeing a bird or two – we have seen very few birds in the past week, and virtually no seabirds.  But what I did see was not one, not two, not even three, but SEVEN Peregrine Falcons.  I saw three pairs and a single bird.  One pair was circling the main island at a medium altitude and another pair was really high, the third pair were really high over the jagged rock adjoining the island and the singleton flew through quite low, crossing from the rock to the island.  I have probably seen no more than ten Peregrines in my life, always singles, so this was a really big deal for me – but nobody else was the least interested in my excitement.

We stopped in a small bay along from the main harbour and some of our number (and some of the other passengers on board) dived in and went for a swim.  It looked refreshing, but the idea of sitting in wet salty clothes for the rest of the day didn’t appeal to us – and I am not a water person anyway.  They only let people stay in the water a short time and we then went on to the harbour where we alighted and people went in different directions.

Most of our group walked through the village and up the hillside along some very pretty winding streets with brightly-painted houses and tiny shops lining the path.  As usual, it was ‘pedestrians beware’ because cars were crawling along the narrow alleys with a centimetre of freeboard on either side - and motorbikes and tuktuk taxis were roaring up and down at breakneck speeds.  We often had to dash up a side street or scamper onto a private house’s steps to avoid being hit.  Live short and live dangerously!  A few of our hardy colleagues climbed to a castle at th etop of the hill, but we (and the majority of our mob) wimped out halfway up, and returned to the foreshore shops for souvenirs, drinks and ice-creams.  Most of us had lunch or dinner of sorts – a snack or a monster meal, depending on if, and where/when, we had eaten earlier in the day – along the quay until it was time to rejoin the boat to go on to Stromboli, another of the Aeolian Islands and one of the most famous volcanos on earth.

We first circumnavigated the very dramatic island of Isola di Strombolicchio.  It stands straight up out of the sea and is a most remarkable sight.  The sun was setting as we neared it and I took some photos of the sunset before focusing on the volcano. 

Strombolicchio

Stromboli is a very active volcano, normally providing tourists with spectacular fiery displays that light up the sky at night, but alas, it was mainly resting tonight.  As we approached it, we saw some very smoky valleys and smelled a bit of sulphur, but there were only three red explosions and a few big black puffs of smoke while we were there.  As we sailed away, it seemed that the volcano became more active but by then we were a long way away and heading back to the dock.

My best photo of an eruption. It took so long for my camera to focus in such dim light and on any magnification that the colour was gone before the shutter clicked.

Then we had the walk back to the hotel, up the steep section and down the other side, tired but pretty happy after such an interesting day.

Monday

Vulcano is another of the Aeolian Islands and that was our destination for today.  Our boat left from Marina Lunga so they provided some cabs to get us there and then we were on the boat with a lot of mainly locals – calling in at Panarea again on the way to Vulcano.  There are some mud baths on the island and that was on our original program (of no interest to us apart from having a look), but they are currently closed due to some unusual seismic activity.  As a result, our tour organisers arranged a bus to take up for a short drive around the town and up to the highest point of the island where there is a spectacular viewing point.  We had to have yet another group photo taken there before descending back to the harbour for lunch.  It was another hot day and some of the restaurants were closed – and others had umbrellas that didn’t really provide much shade – but we found the shadiest one we could, and gulped down a cold drink or two with our lunch.

Despite its name, I thought we were told that Vulcano is not currently an active volcano, but from where we had lunch, we could see a line of what we believe to be fumaroles leading up to the summit of the mountain.  It was never confirmed by our leader, but I have subsequently googled it and that is definitely what they were.  People ate at a range of restaurants and I doubt if any of the rest of our group saw them, but they were quite visible from where we had our lunch.

The colour is deceptive - it appeared to be a dusty orange to me - but we are sure that these are fumaroles running up the side of the mountain.

Then it was back on the boat and back to Marina Lunga (direct, rather than via Panarea), this time with no taxis, so we had to walk back to our hotel, a hot dry trek, but a very welcome cold fruit drink was waiting for us in the foyer when we all trudged in.

And dinner was in the hotel again – a very good meal it was too.  The chef came out each night to check that we were all happy with his work and we gave him a big round of applause for this one.

[starknightgirl]

MCC24 Pink Parrots Skins!

These skins were an adventure. I’m so excited that AntVenom is finally in MCC. I knew he was on the waitlist but it feels like it took forever. I’ve really been waiting because I knew it was pretty likely he’d team with CaptainSparklez. And what do you know, I was right.

If this is the first post you’re seeing of mine, hi! I have made a lot of CaptainSparklez’ team’s skins, ever since MCC14 (links: MCC15, MCC16, MCC17, MCC18, MCC19, MCC21, MCC22, MCC23). On occasion I’ve also made skins for other teams, such as the Red Rabbits of MCC Rising. Feel free to share this, just tag this post so that it links back to me. Thank you! Ok, more below the cut.

I’m using my reddit username as the signature, don’t worry I’m not stealing from anyone.

I tried to do sci-fi for this team, just like I did for MCC23 but. Maybe I’m just bad at sci-fi? It would track because I’ve had difficulties with it in the past. I was tempted to use the same parrot as I did from MCC22 but I ended up going with a slightly different design because there’s always room for improvement right?

There are a few tiny Technoblade references on these skins. Again, I wasn’t trying to make obvious references, but I did make some. Just like last time I used the Sarcoma ribbon from Reddit (with a slight edit to make them shorter). Again, I didn’t use the general lavender cancer ribbon because two ribbons seems like a bit much. In addition I put the pattern from Technoblade’s pants onto the pants (it’s really subtle).

I forwent shading this time. Honestly there’s already so much detail on these skins that I thought it would just muddle the skins more. Also I’m lazy. Really it’s just I’m lazy.

Anyways, time for the individual breakdowns.

Starting with AntVenom! His normal skin is pretty two dimensional actually. It’s probably a holdover from early Minecraft when they didn’t have the second layer. But since everyone else was going to have coats, he needed one as well. I gave him those weird points around his arms as well, though I had to cut the ones around his feet. Also, he is the reason the skins have gloves. Originally I was only going to give him gloves, but well. All the skins looked good with them.

Next up, InTheLittleWood. Just like AntVenom he didn’t originally have a coat so I made one for him. I also figured he’d want the symbol thing carried over from his usual skin. I did make it slightly smaller to fit better. Originally I was going to give him his little backpack as well (it’s very cute). But it was just a bit too noisy. It also would’ve covered up some details so. Hazard of always putting the mascot on the back I guess.

Philza on the other hand, does have a coat on his regular skin. However, I did have to make the details shorter. I also gave him his little hardcore heart as a necklace. I also wanted to keep all the details Philza recently added for Technoblade. So yes, he still has the band of purple and the little emerald earring (though both are a bit hard to see from this view). I did have to move the Sarcoma ribbon though. Also, what on earth is up with the top of the bucket hat? I did leave it the same but well. It’s so weird!

And finally, CaptianSparklez! He actually has the longest coat (though it’s actually still pretty short). Just like Philza I did have to shorten his coat. Not much to say about his skin this time really though, it’s pretty similar to everyone else’s. He does have a nice belt buckle though.

Here’s all the skins in case you want them yourself.

[ao3komorii]

Tangling with the Lifeguard (Pool Party Sett/Reader)

The Pool Party Sett story is done! I’ve gone with a beach!AU sort of setting where league races exist in a modern-day beach sort of place. Also sorry to any MF or Syndra mains, they don’t really come out the best in this xD Hope you enjoy, and as always, there is a smut warning for the end!

---

The sun was shining high in the sky, crystalline waters lapping against the shore as beachgoers took advantage of the perfect summer day. Taking in the scene from your place in the shade of a tree on the border between the beach and parking lot, you let a smile grace your lips as you mused on just how much this place seemed to not change, even after so many years.

The last time you had set foot on this beach, you had been twelve years old, full of excitement and unaware of the harsh realities of the adult world. Your parents had brought you here for that summer, now thirteen years ago, the beautiful beach an unforgettable experience. You had left after that summer with treasured memories, and a new friend, that same friend the very reason why you had returned to Port Navori beach after so long.

Taliyah had been the same age as you, with fairly lax parents who let her roam the beach by herself, even as the small twelve-year-old she had been. You had bonded instantly, spending almost every day together, and keeping in touch through letters, and later emails and text messages.

You had long said that you had wanted to come back and visit the lively beach town, but the timing hadn’t been right, not until this year.

You were done all your schooling, and had quit your high-stress, low-pay job, and as Taliyah had said on your last phone call, you had no reason not to visit. Her parents had been travelling the world since they retired, so you would have her house all to yourselves.

In your absence, Taliyah had become a fairly accomplished surfer in the local scene, working at an ice cream shop on the beach to support her expensive pursuits. She had been so insistent that you couldn’t find yourself able to refuse her offer; work in the ice cream shop with her in the day, and then spend the rest of your time catching up with each other. You had missed your friend dearly, and had accepted the offer without a second thought.

And now here you were, waiting at the beach’s edge for Taliyah to show up. She had told you to dress for the beach, sounding casual as was her usual, so you had worn a swimsuit with a short, flowy shoulderless dress on overtop. Unwilling to look like a lobster by day’s end, you had carefully layered yourself with sunscreen, and now all you needed was for your friend to get here already. Just when you were about to get out your phone to text her, an excited call of your name had you re-stowing the phone in your bag and looking back to see your friend bounding across the parking lot towards you.

Taliyah, dressed in a two-piece water suit and carrying a tropical-flower-print surfboard, came to a stop before you, leaning her surfboard against a tree to free her arms to tackle you in a hug.

“You’re finally here!” she grinned, surprising you with the strength of her hug. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“So what’s first?” you asked as you pulled back from the hug.

Taliyah hummed. “I guess I’ll show you the shop.”

You followed her onto the beach, recognizing the small bright blue building from the pictures she had sent you before. Taliyah took you around the back, fishing a key out of her pocket before unlocking the door and leading you into the small room.

There were large tubs of ice cream in the middle of the room, the walls lined with containers of various toppings and machines. On the back wall from you were two windows, glossy menus pasted to the doors that would display out when they were opened. Upon walking closer to the menu signs, you noticed something.

“Hey, it says we open at nine, but it’s ten-thirty…”

“It’s fine,” Taliyah replied with a shrug. “The owners are pretty chill. If anyone complains, I’ll just tell them I had to train the new employee.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Sometimes you really envied Taliyah’s ability to be so carefree. Her calm energy was a big help for you, having got advice from her on numerous occasions over the years.

Taliyah came over to where you were, eyes flitting boredly to the menu boards before turning her attention back to you. “So I’m thinking we get you taking orders while I make them.”

“Works for me,” you agreed. It certainly sounded easier than figuring out what a poro float was supposed to be. You never knew ice cream stands had such fancy options now, used to the simple menus of ice cream cones and bars back at the shops in your hometown.

You were about to open the order windows when you were stopped by a rustling noise from the back of the store. You turned to see Taliyah digging in a cardboard box in the back corner, pulling out some folded-up fabric that was the same sky blue as the stand.

“Didn’t think you’d get away without an embarrassing uniform, did you?” Taliyah teased, tossing some of her fabric pile your way.

You caught the bundle, unfolding it to find an apron with Poro Palace Frozen Treats in pink bubble letters, little white fuzzy animals dotting the apron. There was an accompanying blue visor hat that looked like something out of a kid’s store. You reluctantly slipped both items of clothing on, looking back to find that Taliyah had done the same.

“Stylish, huh?” she smirked, striking a modelesque pose.

“We look like we work at an amusement park, Tali,” you laughed.

“Feels like it sometimes with all the annoying kids that come by,” she replied. “Okay, you can open it up now.”

Taliyah settled herself down in a chair in front of the section of ice cream tubs, and you reluctantly turned to unlatch and open the windows, unsure of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

The small room lit up with the outside sunlight streaming in from your window to outside, the immediate glare of the sun making you wish you had worn sunglasses.

Almost immediately, the masses were upon you. You noticed a woman with several children in tow who perked up as she laid eyes on you, striding over to you with her children right behind her, pushing each other as they scrambled to be the first one to get over to you.

You heard Taliyah groan behind you. “Get the pen ready. They always have the most annoying orders.”

You rose an eyebrow, but picked up the pen and notepad that sat beside the cash register as the woman came to a stop before you.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for an hour already. You young girls don’t know how hard it is for mothers,” the woman complained, not letting you get a word in edgewise. “Alright, tell her what you want.”

“I want a brownie sundae!” a small boy with blue hair who clearly intended to make full use of his outdoor voice shouted. “But with cotton candy ice cream and pop rocks and I want only blue candies!”

“Uh…” The kid was talking too fast for you to write, but luckily Taliyah had your back, a got it ringing out from behind you.

You weren’t sure how you had managed to get their orders out before they melted, messing up their total several times before Taliyah had to come and help you out. With a last snide look and a fistful of blue napkins, the mother and her little terrors left the stand at last.

“She’s the worst,” Taliyah said, bringing your weary gaze her way as she cleaned off an ice cream scoop. “I accidentally put one red candy in that kid’s sundae once and he screamed until I remade the whole thing!”

You winced. “Feels like we got off easy today.”

“Yeah,” Taliyah agreed. “Helps that they order the same thing every time, so I’ve got some practice.”

“Are they all this bad?” you asked, turning away from the window after seeing no potential customers nearby.

“Not all of them,” she replied with a strained smile. “I swear the heat just brings the jerk out in some of the people here.”

Speaking of jerks… your conversation was interrupted by an impatient-sounding throat clearing noise from behind you. You whirled around to see a redheaded woman with heart-shaped sunglasses and a revealing swimsuit leaning against your counter. She was staring at you like you were gum she had stepped in, flipping some hair over her shoulder when she knew she had your attention.

“Five cherry snowballs,” she said, dropping a few coins on your counter, some of which bounced and hit the floor. “To the red umbrella, thanks ice cream girl.”

Without any further interaction, she turned on her heel and strutted away, hips swinging as she went, leaving you wondering what had just happened.

You slowly turned back to face Taliyah again. “Um, do we usually deliver?”

“Nope,” she answered. “Not to people like that anyways.”

“But…” you protested weakly. You knew Taliyah got away with a lot here, but you didn’t want her to lose her job because some rude girl complained to her bosses. “I’ll just take them over and next time I’ll just say we don’t deliver.”

“Still tempted to put rocks in their snowballs,” Taliyah joked as she set about piling the scoops of red ice.

Soon you had a tray with five cherry syrup-coated piles of shaved ice in little plastic bowls with accompanying little plastic spoons stuck in the side of the dishes.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, heading past Taliyah to the back door, opening it to find yourself back out in the mid-morning heat.

The sand still felt uncomfortably hot underfoot, even with your flip flops on. With how hot it was out, these would have to be delivered as soon as possible to not be a puddle by the time they were eaten. Your only problem was that you had no idea where to go.

The redhead had said that she would be at the red umbrella, but of course nothing at this ice cream stand would be that easy. Standing just outside the hut, you were treated to a veritable rainbow of colored beach umbrellas. You counted at least ten red ones scattered across the beach, none particularly standing out to you. You didn’t have many options, and were forced to go with the most tedious one; checking every red umbrella until you found the girl and her group.

The first umbrella had been a bust, as had the next five. The sixth had led to a sweaty old man who told you that you were just in time to help him sunscreen his back. By the time you had hurriedly fled from that creep, it had been about five minutes of searching, the snowballs on your tray looking considerably droopier than they had been when you had left the shop.

You stared down at the tray of melting treats, unsure of what to do now. Should you go back and have Taliyah remake the snowballs? Try a few more umbrellas and hope you got lucky? You really hadn’t been anticipating this much stress when you had agreed to work here with Taliyah for the summer.

You frowned at the now-more-water-than-ice treats, your decision made. You couldn’t serve these, not as melted as they were. You would go back and help remake them and see if Taliyah had any insight as to which red umbrella was the right one. You turned around to head back to the stand, only to trip on your overheating flip flops and fall forward with a cry.

You had closed your eyes with a flinch as you fell, but opened them with a start as you heard a grunt from right in front of you. Looking up from your position in the burning sand, you felt like your heart was going to stop in your chest.

Standing before you was the most attractive guy you had ever laid eyes on, with fire red hair and a pair of black animal ears that looked soft to the touch. He was dressed in a tight pair of swim shorts, a lightweight red jacket tied around his waist. He had a flower lei around his neck, but that was the only thing that he wore on his top half, his insanely-well-built torso on full display, a torso you realized with horror was currently splattered with red syrup and shaved ice.

You looked from the hot guy to the ground, the sand around you speckled with plastic cups, spoons and napkins, your tray turned upside down in the sand. You slowly risked a gaze back up, only to see the guy staring down at you from behind his pink-tinted sunglasses as a clump of ice fell from his stomach to the sand just in front of your hands.

Embarrassment forced you to spring up, grabbing some stray napkins from the ground and dabbing them against the mess of syrup and ice on the man’s abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, I–” You looked up from your apologizing to see the man silently staring at you, your hand freezing in place as you realized that you were basically feeling this guy up through the napkins, the realization making your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry!” you cried out, pulling your hands back. He still hadn’t said anything, and you realized that you couldn’t just stand here like an idiot, your flight instinct kicking in as you reached down to grab your tray before moving around the man and fleeing in the direction of the ice cream stand.

“Hey, wait!”

The man tried to grab your arm as you passed, but you were faster in your embarrassment-fueled retreat, and soon the hot stranger was far behind you. You didn’t stop running until you were back at the shop, the empty sand-logged tray clutched tightly to your chest, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you shut the door, making eye contact with a confused Taliyah.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, getting up to approach you when you didn’t respond. “Talk to me. What happened? If that snob said anything to you–”

“No, no, she didn’t,” you replied weakly, sinking to the floor with your back against the door. “I didn’t even get to her.”

“Then what happened?” she pressed, bringing you a glass of water and prying the tray from your hands at last.

She ushered you to your feet and down into her chair, taking a seat on one of the counters. You took a deep breath, taking a sip of the water before recounting the events of the past ten minutes to Taliyah, who listened silently.

“…I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran,” you finished, setting your water down to bury your face in your hands.

“It’s no big deal,” Taliyah replied gently. “Everyone has embarrassed themselves in front of someone. Remember that time I tripped over my board in front of that group of tourists?”

“I covered him in cherry syrup, Tali,” you groaned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“It’s your first day,” she stressed. “You’re bound to mess some things up.”

She stood up, returning to the shaved ice machine. “Now how about we remake those snowballs and then I’ll–”

Taliyah had frozen in place, a plastic cup in her hand as she stared straight ahead.

“Tali?” you questioned, standing up. “Are you–”

“That guy you dumped the snowballs on,” she quickly interrupted. “Did he have majorly cut abs and animal ears?”

“Uh, why?” You felt a jolt of fear shoot up your spine as you followed her gaze to see the man from earlier currently approaching the shop, well-defined abdomen now minus the sticky mess you had spilt all over him. “Oh god, it’s him!”

You and Taliyah exchange wide-eyed glances before you dove down out of sight, hiding behind the tubs of ice cream like they were a fortress.

“Please get rid of him!” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t face him!”

You heard Taliyah sigh. “Fine, but this means you’re coming stone hunting with me tonight.”

You agreed immediately, even if the prospect wasn’t overwhelmingly appealing. Taliyah was always eager to add to her collection of shiny stones, but was so picky that it often took hours to find just one stone that met her standards. But right now you were so desperate that you would have promised her anything just to make the angry hot guy go away.

From your position behind the ice cream tubs, you could only hear Taliyah’s voice clearly, the general noise of the beach preventing you from hearing what the furry-eared man was saying. You wanted to peek out from your hiding spot, but found yourself chickening out. You really didn’t need him catching sight of you and making Taliyah’s job even harder.

You had gotten so in your own head with panic that you had completely tuned out of your surroundings until a hand waved in front of your face and you realized Taliyah was crouching in front of you, calling your name.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Is he gone?” you replied quietly.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” she confirmed, standing up and grabbing your forearms to pull you up with her. “Now help me remake those snowballs and then I’ll fill you in.”

You bit your lip as you scooped shaved ice into a row of plastic cups as Taliyah readied the cherry syrup. Soon you had five pristine-looking snowballs on your slightly-sandy tray, the sight of them bringing you back to your moment of collision with the cute guy.

The tray was snatched from your field of vision by Taliyah, who headed over to the rear door. “Be back in a few. Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”

And then the door was closed and you were left alone. Looking over at the order window, you decided that you were probably safer to just resume your position behind the ice cream tubs, unwilling to risk being out in the open in case the guy decided to come back.

While she was gone, you couldn’t help but fret over exactly what had been said between your best friend and the mysterious hot guy. She didn’t seem to be upset, so clearly their conversation hadn’t been that intense. Or maybe it had; Taliyah was a fairly relaxed person, so it would be difficult for a random angry customer to really get to her. But that didn’t quite make sense either; if he had yelled at her, you would have heard it over the noise of the beachgoers. All you were doing was overthinking yourself to death, exactly what Taliyah had told you not to do.

And it was there you remained until Taliyah returned, closing the door behind her and placing the serving tray in the sink before she turned her attention to you at last.

“Calm down, it’s fine… I think,” she said.

“You think?”

“Well he didn’t seem mad,” she explained. “He asked if a girl that looked like you worked here and I said you went home sick. Said he’d come back another time.”

“Another–” Oh god. Was he really so angry that he was willing to come back just for the chance to yell at you?

“I can see you freaking out,” Taliyah scolded. “Don’t. You’re fine. Musclehead or not, he’s not going to kill you just because you spilled shaved ice on him.”

She was probably right; hot shirtless guys on the beach likely had more important things to do than yelling at clumsy ice cream shop workers. By tomorrow, he would probably forget you ever existed, and you could go back to enjoying your time working alongside your best friend.

 The rock collecting that night had been long and boring, at least for you. Taliyah hadn’t found any rocks she liked enough to take home, only ending the search after she had found some sea glass that she had deemed acceptable to add to her collection. You could only hope that you wouldn’t owe her any more favors any time soon, unsure if you could survive another late night rock hunt.

The next morning, you entered the shop alongside Taliyah, who put her bag down and began to set up the day’s supplies. Considering it was ten minutes past opening time and Taliyah had insisted that she didn’t need help setting up, you decided that you might as well just open the order window for the day, hoping that mom and her group of demon kids wouldn’t be waiting out there, only to unlatch the widows and see something arguably worse.

The window had only been open a peek, but it was enough for you to see the large figure of the man from yesterday standing ten feet or so from your shop, his back facing you as he stared out at the beach. In your brief glimpse, you also noticed that the jacket wrapped around his waist had a white plus sign in a circle as well as the word lifeguard in white blocky letters above it. Oh god, of course you had gone and pissed off a lifeguard on your first day here.

You shut the barely-open windows with a too-loud slam that made you wince before you quickly locked them again and rushed over to Taliyah.

“Tali, he’s here again!” you hissed.

“Huh?” she replied, pausing her task of refilling a container of sprinkles. “Muscle guy?”

You nodded frantically and Taliyah frowned, putting the sprinkles down and approaching the order window herself. You watched as she opened the window ever so slightly, peering out for a few seconds before closing it back up.

“Well… can’t say I was expecting him to actually come back,” she said evenly.

“What do I even do?” you asked, staring at the order windows like they would burst open at any second and reveal you to the clearly-determined lifeguard. “He’s a lifeguard, Tali! What if he bans me from the beach?”

She rolled her eyes in response. “He can’t just ban you from the beach. Lifeguards don’t have that much power. If they did, I would’ve been banned a long time ago for all the times I’ve surfed after hours.”

“Then what does he want with me?” you asked, looking away from the window.

Taliyah shrugged. “You’d have to ask him that.”

“But what if I… don’t?” you replied weakly. “He’ll give up eventually, right?”

“I mean, maybe?” she said. “But it might be easier to deal with him now and get it over with.”

You saw her point, but it wasn’t her that was being pursued by a tall, muscly lifeguard with a vengeance!

Taliyah clearly caught the reluctance on your face and sighed. “Fine, I’ll switch with you for today. Now let’s go over how to make the basic stuff before we open.”

True to her word, Taliyah had allowed you to hide in the back making orders, telling the lifeguard guy that you were off today. You watched him walk away from behind the shaved ice machine, hoping that your ordeal was finally over, but your hopes were quickly dashed the next day as you went to open the store again, only to see the same broad back facing you from just outside the shop.

Taliyah had reluctantly agreed to switch again that day, and the day after. But by day four, even the promise of helping her scavenge for rocks again wouldn’t get her to agree to switch.

You closed the window again, turning to Taliyah with pleading eyes, but she was having none of it.

“It’s been four days,” she said, arms crossed. “Clearly he’s not giving up. You should just see what he wants.”

“But…” The thought still terrified you. You knew you deserved to be yelled at for what you had done, but it was made that much worse by the fact that the subject of your plight was just about the hottest guy you had ever seen.

Taliyah shook her head at you. “Okay, but I’m not doing orders again today, so if you want to keep hiding from him, we’ll have to move onto plan B.”

Plan B, as it turned out, was a mascot suit of sorts; three fluffy poros stacked on top of each other like a snowman. A poro each made up your upper and lower body, the last poro being the head of the costume. You looked incredibly awkward, the arms and legs of the costume hairy and tipped with little brown claws. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer lengths you were going to just to avoid this guy, but you were already in the costume, so you reasoned that you might as well follow through with it now.

Taliyah put the costume’s head on you and your world was plunged largely into darkness, minus the mesh one-way view out of the top poro’s eyes. You were helped to the back door, some fliers for the store shoved into your hands.

Taliyah helped you walk out front, and you were pretty quickly swarmed by kids. You couldn’t see the lifeguard guy, but the relief that coursed through you was short-lived, swallowed by the immediate explosion of business brought on by your costume.

One thing you hadn’t considered in your haste was the heat. You weren’t sure if it was the costume or if today was hotter than usual, but very quickly you found yourself becoming a sweaty mess under the weight of the dense, furry costume.

The longer you were in the costume, the worse you felt, but you were determined to stick this out. So you handed out fliers and posed for photos with children while Taliyah ran the stand.

You wished that you could wipe the sweat from your face, but you weren’t sure if you could even reach up to remove the costume’s head yourself due to the awkward shape of the costume. So you endured the ever-increasing heat, only feeling wearier as the time ticked by.

You waved goodbye to a group of kids as they left with their ice cream cones, the sweltering heat really bearing down on you. As you went to turn and head back to the stand to ask Taliyah to help get the head off, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. You took one step towards the stand, and then another, and then it all went dark as you felt yourself falling forward, too weak to stop your descent to the ground.

 You woke up with a heavy head, feeling foggy with confusion. The last thing you remembered, you had been heading back to the stand…

Immediately, you realized that you weren’t at the ice cream stand, and you weren’t wearing the poro suit, or even your beach dress. Sitting up in the cot you laid in, you found that you were wearing only your swimsuit.

As you sat up, a blue ice pack that you hadn’t realized was there fell from your forehead and into your lap. Picking it up, the pack only feeling slightly cold, you turned to look around the room, still unsure what exactly was going on.

You were in a room of some sort, guessing it was afternoon by the minute amount of light filtering into the room, even through the closed curtains. There was a fan gently whirring above your head, but otherwise the room was silent.

There was another cot beside yours, and a table nearby with a few red first aid kits stacked on it, some bandages messily spilling out of one of them. There was a sign pulled over the door, the side facing you reading come on in, we’re open.

You got up from the bed, shuddering with disgust when you noticed just how sweaty your whole body was. The bed squeaked as you got up from it, your knees hitting a bedside table between the cots that you hadn’t noticed had been there. On the small table was a glass of water, as well as a white fan that was emblazoned with what looked to be a group of cats waterskiing.

You picked up the fan, letting out a small laugh at the silly-looking cartoon cats on the fan. It looked like something you could win at a carnival booth.

“If you can laugh, then I guess you’re feelin’ alright.”

A deep voice from behind you made you jump, fingers fumbling the fan, which fell onto the floor with a clatter that was only made louder in the quiet room. You turned to look behind you, only to fall off the cot in shock when you saw the very lifeguard you had been trying so hard to avoid standing in the doorway of a small office you hadn’t noticed was there.

“Hey, careful!” He quickly crossed the room to squat down in front of you, taking your elbow and helping you back up onto the cot. You were too stunned to resist and found yourself falling into his chest as a wave of dizziness hit you.

“You okay?” he asked, and you tried to nod, but your head was spinning too much to focus. “Hey, hold still.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady against him until you were able to regain your focus. When he was satisfied with your condition, he pulled back, releasing your shoulders and instead reaching out for the glass of water on the table next to you.

“Drink,” he instructed, handing you the cup before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He stared at you for a moment before finally turning back and heading into the office at the back of the room.

You watched him go, feeling on edge, but complied, bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a long drink. The last thing you wanted to do was give this guy more reason to be upset with you. You were surprised at just how refreshing the water felt, and you had soon downed the entire glass, placing it back on the table when you were done.

“Alright, lay back down,” the lifeguard instructed as he returned.

“What?” you replied. What was he going to do to you? How had you even got here? Where was Taliyah?

He stopped before you, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at your shaky, terrified form. “Are you–”

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, bowing your head. “I didn’t mean to spill the snowballs on you! If you need to yell at me, go ahead. I’m sorry I didn’t just come out sooner and–”

It had occurred to you mid-ramble that he had yet to say anything, and you cut off your babbling, slowly looking up to find him staring at you with what you could only describe as a bewildered look on his face.

He blinked. “Is that why–”

“I’m so sorry!” you interrupted, bowing your head again. “If you want to ban me from the beach, I get it!”

“Ban ya from the beach?” he replied with a bark of laughter. “The only thing I wanted to do was get your number.”

“My… what?” You had to be hallucinating. There was no way he had just said that.

“Lay down first,” he spoke sternly, and you complied, still feeling stunned by his words.

Once you were laid down, he picked something up from the bed, which you recognized as another ice pack. He placed it on your forehead, the cool pack immediately flooding you with a feeling of relief. Closing your eyes, you let out a tired sigh, suddenly feeling fatigued.

“Get some rest, princess. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

You took his advice, the cooling from the ice pack lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids too heavy to keep open.

When you woke up again, you felt infinitely better, your head clearer and body feeling less overheated. The ice pack on your forehead was room temperature, and it was now dark outside. There was a light illuminating your left side as you sat up in bed, turning to see the office in the back with its light on.

The cot squeaked under you, which was responded to by the squeak of a chair from inside the office, the red-haired lifeguard emerging from the office and approaching your bedside.

“Feelin’ any better?” he asked, and you nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Got you some more water.”

You looked over to the bedside table to see the water cup refilled and took hold of it, grateful to have something to focus on other than the intimidatingly muscular man before you.

You drank the entire glass before you forced yourself to finally address the situation before you. “Um… why am I here?”

“You passed out,” he replied bluntly, taking a seat on the cot next to yours. “Overheated yourself in that rat costume.”

“They’re not rats, they’re poros,” you replied, unsure of what to say.

He let out a huff of laughter. “Poros that important to you that you’re willin’ to fry yourself for ‘em?”

“No, that was…” you trailed off. Well, you might as well just admit it. If he had gone out of his way to care for you after you had passed out like an idiot, then he deserved the truth. “I was avoiding you. I was scared you were going to yell at me. My friend didn’t want to keep covering for me at the window so I decided to wear that stupid poro costume.”

“So that’s what that was about,” he replied. “And here I thought you were avoidin’ me ‘cuz you weren’t interested. Gave up on gettin’ your number and then got news that someone passed out from heat stroke.”

You were still having a hard time comprehending the asking for your number part, so you instead chose to focus on the other half. “Heat stroke?”

“Not sure what you expected, wearin’ that costume in this heat,” he said. “Can’t say nobody’s ever been afraid of me before, but giving themself heat stroke just to avoid me is a new one.”

He sounded somewhat self-deprecating, and you immediately felt bad. You had clearly misjudged him, and realized that he hadn’t even mentioned the snowball incident himself.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, even with as awkward as you were currently felt. “I’m sorry for giving you so much trouble, and for spilling snowballs all over you. I’m just really sorry.”

He laughed. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for. I’ve had worse get on me since I started workin’ here, and usually it ain’t from a cute girl.”

You tensed in your seat, tearing your gaze from his to look down at your feet, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Hey, don’t go overheatin’ yourself again,” he scolded, standing up from the bed. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine, but I think it’s best if I take ya home. Don’t need your friend yellin’ at me again if you pass out on the way back.”

As much as you wanted to deny his assertion of you being not interested, you couldn’t muster up the courage, so you instead quietly accepted his offer of help. You would have to ask Taliyah what he had meant when you got back.

It was surprisingly cold on the beach at night, the icy breeze sending shivers along your skin. You stared out at the dark ocean waves, entranced by the water crashing against the sand, when your focus was broken by some soft fabric being laid over your shoulders.

You turned to look over your shoulder to see Sett just behind you on the steps of the lifeguard office, the jacket that was usually around his waist now laying on your shoulders.

He caught your curious look and raised an eyebrow. “You nearly cooked yourself to death today, I ain’t about to let you freeze yourself to death now.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, reaching a hand up to keep the jacket around your shoulders.

Your feet met the soft sand as you followed Sett towards the parking lot. The beach was totally empty, an odd contrast to how things were in the daytime. It felt weird to actually see the shape of the landscape unobscured by giant beach umbrellas and a sea of bodies. You only looked away from the empty scene when you realized that you had left the sand, and Sett was staring expectantly at you.

“…what?” you asked, getting the feeling that he had said something that you had missed.

“Which way?” he repeated with a quick glance at the street ahead of you.

“Oh right,” you replied. “My friend lives on Sandstone Way.”

Sett’s ears perked up. “By that tacky souvenir shop?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Right by there.”

You giggled at Sett’s assessment; you had noticed the eye-hurtingly brightly painted store when Taliyah had walked you to her house from the train station. She had rolled her eyes at the store as you surveyed the display of t-shirts with embarrassing designs on them, stating that sometimes they got some good rocks in, but it wasn’t worth the amount of tourists always asking for directions when she was walking around the neighborhood.

Looking over at Sett out of the corner of your eye, you were struggling to think of anything to say. He was dressed in just his sandals and shorts, his sunglasses forgone and giving you a clear look at his golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

“So this your first summer here?” Sett asked, breaking the brief silence as you walked side by side. “I know I’d remember you if I’d seen ya before.”

“I was here for a summer when I was a kid,” you answered. “But everything looks so different now. Maybe I just saw this place differently when I was a kid.”

“Nah,” he dismissed. “It never used to be this busy here. Tourists bring money to this place, but it means it’s always loud around here.”

The conversation was slowly helping you feel more comfortable with the intimidatingly handsome lifeguard. You felt dumb for putting so much energy into avoiding him.

“So have you always lived here?” you asked.

“Born and raised,” he answered with a grin that you couldn’t help but feel looked a little sad. “Ma used to work at the boating shop… and the laundromat… and the candy store.”

“All at the same time?” you asked incredulously.

Sett shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Pa ran off on us when I was a kid, and it wasn’t like anyone would hire a fatherless runt to work for them.”

“Sounds like it was hard,” you replied. “Did you ever find out where he went?”

“For his sake, I’d better not,” Sett sneered. “I heard ma cry missin’ that scumbag more times than I can count. There ain’t a family here for that bastard to come back to.”

“How is your mom doing?” you asked as you turned onto Sandstone Way, passing by the tacky tourist shop, the flashy paint on the walls too bright even at night.

“She’s doin’ good,” he answered, finally looking happy with a satisfied smile. “Got her to quit her jobs when I started workin’ enough to pay the bills.”

“You’re a good son,” you complimented him. “She’s lucky to have you.”

You smiled at him, coming to a stop before Taliyah’s house. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I don’t wanna see you passin’ out again.”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied. “No more poro costumes for me.”

“On that topic,” he purred, leaning closer to you. “You never gave me an answer.”

“An answer?” you squeaked, flustered by his sudden closeness.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get your number for days now,” he replied, and you did your best to supress a shiver from running up your spine. Was this real life?

You wet your lips with your tongue nervously, unable to miss how Sett’s sharp eyes watched the movement.

“I, um, I don’t have my phone on me,” you said, immediately realizing how dumb you sounded. You didn’t need your phone on you to tell him your number! You hastily made to amend your statement. “…but if you come by the stand tomorrow, I’ll give it to you!”

“Oh?” Sett’s grin was wide, gold eyes flashing dangerously. “I s’pose I could find some time to stop by. See you then, sweetheart.”

Sett turned to walk away, but you stopped him with a call of his name. “Wait, your jacket–”

“Keep it for the night,” Sett replied. “I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

You reluctantly agreed, stunned silent by his bold flirting, his jacket sitting warm on your shoulders as you watched him walk away. You stared at his broad back until he was out of sight, only then turning to head inside, knowing Taliyah would be waiting.

 The next morning she was still on you as you spent some extra time getting ready.

“I still can’t believe he gave you his jacket,” she teased with a grin. “I mean, I figured he was probably into you, but–”

“You what?” you replied as you paused styling your hair.

“I kept telling you to talk to him,” she replied. “No guy like that is going to wait outside your work for days in a row just to yell at you for spilling ice on him. But I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

“I just feel so stupid giving myself heat stroke just go avoid him,” you lamented.

“Yeah,” Taliyah frowned. “If I had realized it was that hot out, I never would’ve let you go out in that thing.”

“It’s my own fault for being so dumb,” you insisted.

“But hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?” Taliyah grinned as she slipped on her water shoes. “You’ve got a hot lifeguard coming to visit you at work today.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m still super nervous,” you said, adjusting your beach dress over your most flattering swimsuit.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah replied. “He’s clearly super into you. You should’ve seen him when you passed out yesterday.”

“What?” You had been so tired last night that you had only told her the basics before crashing for the night, completely forgetting to ask her what had happened yesterday.

“Someone got him when you collapsed,” she told you. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled off the poro head and saw it was you inside the costume! I tried to come with, but he told me he’d handle it. I maaay have threatened his life if anything happened to you, but just a little.”

You laughed. So that’s what Sett had been referring to.

Taliyah came up from behind you as you stared at your appearance in the mirror, resting her chin on your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Relax, you look great. Fuzzy ear boy isn’t gonna know what hit him!”

“Fuzzy ear–” you sputtered, laughing at Taliyah’s choice of words. “I guess his ears do look pretty fuzzy.”

“Well if he lets you pet them, tell me how soft they are!” she teased, pulling back from you to grab her bag. “Now let’s go. You’ve got a boy to meet!”

You somehow felt even more nervous today than you had the few days you had spent avoiding Sett. You were still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that a guy that looked like he had walked straight out of a fireman’s calendar was coming to your little beachfront ice cream stand for the sole purpose of getting your phone number. And his jacket, which was folded neatly on the countertop beside you.

You weren’t exactly sure when he was going to come. Usually, he would be there waiting outside in the morning before you opened, but all you had opened up to today was a sparsely-populated beachfront, no handsome lifeguards to be seen. By two in the afternoon, your anxiety had begun to get the better of you.

“Stop pacing,” Taliyah scolded you. “He’ll be here.”

“But what if he decided not to?” you said, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “What if this was just a joke?”

“Then I’ll go kick his butt,” she responded plainly. “He’ll come. Relax.”

You were about to reply, when a ding of the service bell at the order window had you spinning around, ready to take an order, only for the words to die on your lips when you laid eyes on the well-muscled lifeguard with the fuzzy black ears just outside the order window, sending a grin your way.

“Here to pick up my order,” he said, leaning an arm against the window.

“Your… order?” you replied, too entranced by his appearance to properly make use of your brain.

“A pretty girl promised me her number if I came by,” he replied, looking down at you through his sunglasses.

“I… right… I…” You turned back quickly to see Taliyah staring expectantly at you, mouthing the word number at you. Right.

With slightly shaky hands, you reached for the small notepad at the front counter, taking that and a pen in hand and trying not to focus on the fact that Sett was watching you as you began to write.

Double-checking that the number was right, you handed the paper to him, your fingers touching as he took it from you. Remembering about your other promise, you reached over to grab the lifeguard jacket from the counter beside you. You went to hand him his jacket, surprised when he didn’t take it from you.

“What time do you get off?” he asked, and you answered a quiet six. “Give it back to me then.”

With a short wave and a grin, Sett made a show of stowing the phone number in his pocket before sauntering off and leaving you standing there slack-jawed.

“See? Was that so hard?” Taliyah called from her seat at the ice machine. “Now you just have to keep it together for your date.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you said, leaning back against the counter.

“You did last night, didn’t you?” she countered. “He’s just a guy. A really hot guy, but still. Don’t freak yourself out. You deserve a nice guy. It’s just a bonus that he has more abs than spiders have legs!”

You let out an amused huff. Taliyah was right, as she always was. You needed to get over yourself and let yourself have a good time tonight.”

But for now, you had customers to deal with. You and Taliyah let out a shared groan as you saw the nightmare mom and her army of brats heading towards you. You both returned to your posts, hoping their overly-complicated orders would be right on the first try this time.

 Taliyah let out a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head before beginning the process of cleaning up for the day. After the last customer left, you hastily closed the order window, not wanting to give anyone the chance to come and beg about how it was only five minutes past closing and they’ve been wanting a banana split all day. You had learned your lesson from that mistake on day two.

Once the order windows were closed and locked, you joined Taliyah at the side counter, helping to return all the different containers of toppings to their rightful places. You found your hands moving slower, your nerves slowing you down in order to prolong the inevitable.

Taliyah eventually got tired of your pitiful attempt at stalling for time and gently removed the container of blue sprinkles from your grasp. “Just go, I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, and Taliyah sent you an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

“I hope you know I expect all the details later!” she grinned as you made your way to the door, hesitating with your hand on the door handle for only a moment before opening the door.

It was mercifully less warm outside today than it had been yesterday, not to mention that you were also minus a heavy mascot costume. Yesterday hadn’t ended too badly for you, but you would still prefer to not end today in a hospital if you exacerbated your current heat-sensitive state.

You weren’t sure if you preferred if Sett was already there, or if you got there first to wait for him; neither option seemed to abate your nerves. But of course, the lifeguard was prompt as always, leaning against one of the beams that held up the awning above the order window.

You didn’t think you had been making much noise walking along the sand, but he seemed to hear you, turning to face you with a grin as you approached.

“Ready?” he asked as you came to a stop before him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep your cool.

“Yeah,” you answered, impressed that your voice hadn’t come out squeaky with how nervous you were.

“Good,” he replied, before his grin turned teasing. “Was half expectin’ ya to come on our date in that rat costume.”

“Poro!” you corrected again, trying not to get flustered by his mention of this being a date. You weren’t sure what else it would be, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when he had acknowledged the obvious.

He surprised you by taking your hand, pulling you along with him as you tried desperately not to stumble and fall into the sand.

The beach crowd was beginning to thin out, people heading home or to one of the many beachfront restaurants nearby. Watching as a kid packed up his sand toys, you wondered if one of those restaurants was where you were headed as well. Sett hadn’t told you anything about what the plan was, and you found yourself curious when he led you to the bright white lifeguard office.

At first, you had thought that maybe he had forgotten something, at least until you followed him into the small building to see what looked to be the table that had previously held all the first aid kits, now decked out in a soft-looking purple picnic blanket. On top of the makeshift picnic table was a spread of various tasty-looking finger foods, the scene completed by two chairs pulled up to the table, cushions with a starfish pattern placed on the seats.

You were perhaps too dumbfounded by the sight, as you snapped out of it to Sett calling your name, looking over at him to see him looking surprisingly tense. You should probably say something, you realized.

“It looks great,” you said, meaning every word as you looked over the table. “Are those cabbage rolls?”

“Ma helped me make ‘em,” Sett explained, looking bashful for the first time since you had met him as he raised an arm to scratch at the back of his neck. “Helped me with all of this, actually. Never done anythin’ like this before.”

“You mean a picnic?” you asked curiously.

Sett chuckled. “Picnics. Dates. Not a lotta women ‘round here who wanted anythin’ to do with a fatherless half-breed.”

You had a hard time believing that; you had noticed several mothers checking him out as they packed their family’s stuff to leave the beach. But the hint of something sad in his eyes made you reconsider. You had no memory of seeing someone like him that summer you had spent here, but it wasn’t like that was a surprise to you. You and Taliyah had been in your own little world at that time, only ever spending time with each other.

“Well I’m excited to try your cooking,” you said, figuring a change of subject was for the best.

Sett grinned as he sat down. “Should be decent. Haven’t poisoned anyone since high school.”

Your eyes widened, hand freezing on its path to grab a cabbage roll, startled eyes darting to his.

Sett let out a bark of laughter at your alarmed face. “Relax. Wouldn’t poison ya. Maybe those kids that keep swimmin’ into the boating zone, but not you.”

“Thanks… I think?” you replied, biting your lip as you stared down at the cabbage rolls, weighing your options.

“Wasn’t real poison anyways,” he scoffed, taking some rolls from himself. “Not my fault sugar and salt look the same.”

You laughed, grabbing some food for yourself at last. “I suppose they kinda do.”

“Ma didn’t wanna hurt my feelings, but I knew when I tried some myself,” he explained.

“It was nice of her to try,” you offered.

“Too nice,” he said. “Ma is always too nice. Never said anythin’ bad about my old man, even after what he did. Had to work three jobs for years because of that bastard, but not a word.”

“Well I’m sure she’s glad she has you,” you commented. “Even if you give her food poisoning sometimes.”

“Once,” he corrected, taking a bite. “Learned my lesson the first time.”

You followed his lead, finding the food to be entirely poison-free, and actually the best home-cooked meal you had eaten in a long time. The conversation moved to swapping work stories, and you were unsurprised to find out that the mother and her the demon children had been a thorn in Sett’s side as well.

“They really buried sleeping sunbathers in sand?”

“Five times in a day one time,” Sett grouchily confirmed. “Last time Braum went to handle it. Said I would bury those little assholes under the sand if I had to go yell at them one more time.”

You sympathized with his pain. You felt lucky that you had only experienced the tip of the annoyingness iceberg with that group of little terrors.

“Braum?” you inquired as you both left the lifeguard office, the beach now fully dark.

“Fellow lifeguard,” he answered, nonchalantly taking your hand in his as you made your way off the beach. “Bald, giant moustache, even bigger than me. Better at the whole gentle-but-firm thing than I am.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen him before. He comes by for poro pops sometimes,” you said, mind drawing a picture of the surprisingly friendly man in the small purple swim bottoms with a weakness for poro-shaped ice pops. “So are you the head lifeguard then?”

Sett considered your question. “Guess I am the boss of ‘em. All of the other lifeguards are always comin’ at me with problems to solve. The extra pay doesn’t hurt either if I wanna keep momma from feelin’ like she has to work.”

“Say thank you to her from me for the dinner. It was really good,” you said as you passed by the familiar tacky souvenir shop.

“She’ll be happy to hear it,” he replied with a soft smile that made your heart thump in your chest. “I know she wishes she had more to cook for than just me.”

You both came to a stop before Taliyah’s house, and you sneakily glanced over just to make sure Taliyah wasn’t peeking out from a window, which she wasn’t. You turned your focus back to Sett, only to find him closer than he had just been. How was he so good at sneaking up on you?

A large hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, and your face was tilted up towards Sett’s. You were glad it was dark out, because otherwise you knew your reddening cheeks would be obvious.

“Still afraid of me?” he asked, voice low, lips so close to yours that you could make out a small scar that crossed over his bottom lip.

“No,” you answered, making no move to pull away as you stared up into his eyes. “Not unless I was about to taste your high school cooking.”

“Smart,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’m talkin’ about right now, because if you don’t turn and run into that house, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your bag almost tumbled from your grasp, but you held fast as you stared at Sett, whose own had already become half-lidded. You had no words to describe how much you didn’t want to run right now, so you didn’t use any, instead angling your face further upwards, trying to make your willingness abundantly clear.

With a grin, he leaned down and kissed you.

Pulling back slightly, he dove back in, his other hand coming to your waist to pull you against him. You happily leant into him, your hands on his firm chest.

When he pulled back again, you opened your eyes at last, feeling almost as dizzy as right before you had passed out from heat stroke.

Sett looked content, and you were only hoping you looked half as composed as he did right now. He leaned back in to give you one more peck before pulling back from you entirely, the cold from the air outside immediately apparent as soon as you were minus his warm hands against your skin.

“Think I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said. “Been cravin’ a cherry snowball for some reason lately.”

 Sett was a man of his word, you learned, though you were less happy to see him the next day when he asked if he could order a cherry snowball served like last time, and then laughed as you had proceeded to sputter like a broken machine.

His visits became daily, sometimes bringing Braum with him, who continued to surprise you with the sheer amount of poro pops he was able to consume in one sitting. Quite a few nights a week, you had found yourself all around Port Navori with the half-Vastayan lifeguard. You were surprised at how supportive Taliyah was being, considering you had originally come here to spend time with her.

“Gives me more time to surf,” she answered with a shrug when you had asked her. “And maybe that boyfriend of yours can convince you to stay here after the summer is over.”

“Boyfriend?” you yelped, and Taliyah raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t? I thought he would have made it official by now. It’s been over two weeks… have you guys even done it?”

“Taliyah!” you scolded her, switching back to professional mode as a group of people approached the stand.

As you helped prepare their orders, you couldn’t help but think about what she had said. You and Sett had kissed quite a lot actually, but he had yet to do more than that. But it was far too embarrassing a subject for you to have the confidence to broach, so you had resolved yourself to just be content with things as they were.

It was just your luck that right then was when Sett had decided to make his daily visit to the stand, approaching the counter as the other group left.

Taliyah apparently wasn’t done pestering you for the day as she sped to meet him at the counter before you could get there yourself.

“Hey!” she greeted Sett with a sly smile as you stood frozen behind her, nervous about her motivations. “You’re on your break, right?”

Sett raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Well,” she said, in the voice you knew meant that she wanted something. “There’s a surfing contest I entered, and it’s almost my turn and it won’t even take that long and–”

“Tali!” you interrupted, rushing over to the counter.

“All I need is an hour,” Taliyah insisted, before pulling you beside her at the counter. “And she needs some help while I’m gone since lunchtime is when most of the people come by.”

“I’m fine, I–”

“I’m in,” Sett cut in, eyeing you with almost palpable smugness.

“Awesome!” Taliyah replied, immediately shucking her apron and hat onto the floor in her haste to get out the door. “Have fun, see you after I win!”

“Taliyah!”

Your call of her name fell on deaf ears as she already had her board and was out the door, leaving you standing at the counter with Sett still leaning against the counter.

Sett reached up to pull his sunglasses off, tucking them into his packet, his golden eyes fully uncovered and sparkling with mischief, the sight alone making you feel weary.

“Well? You gonna invite me in?” he asked. “Not sure I’d fit through the window.”

You scrambled to meet him at the back door, not wanting him to try and get into the shop through the order window that was less wide than he was. It was a strange feeling to open the back door of the shop to a guy that was almost too tall for the doorway, and another thing entirely to try and corral him into behaving as you tried to keep the ice cream stand functioning while Taliyah was gone.

“Aren’t lifeguards supposed to set a good example for others?” you huffed, wiping ice from your apron. At least he hadn’t made things truly equal and put cherry syrup on the ball of shaved ice he had pressed against your neck.

“Not when I’m off the clock,” he answered. “Besides, it’s my once in a lifetime chance to see what workin’ one of these is like.”

It would definitely be only one time if you had anything to say about it. If the almost-hour with him here had taught you anything, it was that Sett was not cut out to work in an ice cream shop.

The scoops of ice cream he doled out were easily twice the size of the ones Taliyah did, which made for happy customers, but a less happy bottom line if he was here for more than an hour. He was also lacking Taliyah’s patience, and you were forced to sideline him when an especially picky middle-aged woman came by who insisted you remake her smoothie four times until it had an acceptable pH level. The woman’s complaints had miraculously stopped the moment Sett had approached the window himself, becoming so invested in flirting with the handsome lifeguard that she had snatched her next smoothie attempt from you without complaint, not even glancing your way as she batted her eyes at him, only leaving when he excused himself with an excuse of needing to make more orders.

You approached Sett to check on him and found yourself pulled down into his lap as he leaned back in the chair.

Huffing, he pulled you against him, nuzzling against your neck. “Don’t know how you deal with that. Couldn’t pay me to make her damn smoothie one more time.”

“You get used to it,” you replied. “Don’t you deal with worse as a lifeguard?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “But nothin’ sayin’ I gotta be nice when I deal with ‘em.”

“That’s true,” you laughed.

“If anyone complains, they can go somewhere else. Ain’t another beach within a hundred miles as well-run as this one,” he bragged, kissing at your neck.

As much as you were enjoying his sudden affection, you knew time was running low until Taliyah would return. You made to pull back to tell Sett that, but were instead pulled into a kiss that took you a few breathless moments to find the strength to escape.

“This Friday,” he murmured, face inches from yours. “There’s a party at the pool. You should come with me.”

You had heard about the exclusive pool parties on this beach from Taliyah, but hadn’t expected to ever get an invite. The pool, which was at the far end of the beach from the ice cream stand, was as exclusive as it got. Gated with walls so high that you couldn’t see in, it was the membership-only place to be for all of the elite in the beach town of Port Navori.

“Is that… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered, and you didn’t really have an answer. “It’ll be fine. Come. Have some people I wanna introduce ya to.”

The door burst open at the same time as you nodded your agreement, revealing Taliyah clutching both her dripping board as well as a shiny blue ribbon.

“You won?” you asked, trying to disentangle yourself from Sett, who reluctantly let you up.

“Easily!” Taliyah gloated. “Nobody else stood a chance. So how were things here?”

“The money ain’t worth the drama of this place,” Sett griped.

Taliyah laughed. “Smoothie lady come back with a vengeance?”

“I’ll take kids buryin’ sunbathers up to their ears over this any day,” he replied with a grimace, standing up and stretching.

At his mention of ears, Taliyah had brought both hands up to her own head about where Sett’s were on his head, and you quickly waved at her to cut it out before he saw. Thankfully she did, but you could tell that you were going to get asked if you had pet his ears yet as soon as his fuzzy ears were out of earshot.

“I’ll text ya the time when I know it,” Sett said, giving you a quick kiss on the head and a two-fingered salute to Taliyah before heading out the back door.

“So?” Taliyah asked, pulling the chair up to the ice cream station after she had stashed her prize ribbon in her bag. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“I didn’t pet them,” you answered.

“It’s been over two weeks!” she complained. “Has he at least asked you to be his girlfriend yet?”

You shook your head. “He did invite me to a pool party with him on Friday at that fancy pool.”

“Really?” Taliyah responded, eyes wide. “You have to tell me what it’s like! I mean, I’ve seen satellite photos, but it’s not the same…”

“I’ll probably be too nervous to remember any of it,” you grumbled.

“This is your chance!” Taliyah encouraged. “By Friday it’ll be three weeks. You need to ask him if he sees you as his girlfriend or not.”

You reeled back, waves of anticipatory anxiety rolling over you. “I don’t want to scare him off. What if this is just casual to him and I’m too dumb to see it?”

“Then you’ll know,” she replied. “I know you. It’ll eat you up if you put this much energy into a guy without knowing how he feels about you. So ask. If he says no, then at least you’ll have an entire store’s worth of ice cream to drown yourself in after!”

Taliyah was right. She was always right. You knew that you couldn’t keep whatever this was up without knowing where you stood with him. The more time you spent with Sett, the more you wanted, and if he intended to keep things casual, you would rather know sooner so you could make an informed decision.

So that would be the plan then. Go to the party, have a good time (and get some photos of the pool for Taliyah) and then ask Sett about the state of your relationship. Sounded easy in theory. You could only hope you could muster up the courage to go through with the plan when the time came.

 After hearing that the party was to start at four, Taliyah had gone all out, closing the stand at two so she could help you get ready to impress the snobs. You hadn’t put up too much of a fight, happy to have her help and her company, as your nerves only climbed higher the closer it got to four o’clock.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah said as she styled your hair. “You’ll only feel worse if you don’t get an answer from him. And with how good you’ll look at the party, he won’t be able to say no!”

“Thanks, Tali,” you replied gratefully. “I promise I’ll get you a bunch of photos of the pool. And whatever else you want.”

“What I want is for you to stay here for good,” she said. “So really I’m just doing myself a favor by helping you. This place has been a hundred times more bearable since you’ve been here, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Still,” you persisted. “I feel bad that you’re going to so much trouble. If you want anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taliyah dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You should get going, don’t wanna be late to the fancy pool party.”

She practically shoved you out the door, and then you were alone, walking down the mostly-empty sidewalk. As you walked along the street, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibilities. What would happen at the party? What would Sett say?

If he told you that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, what would you do? It was hard to have an answer for until you were in the moment, since a lot of it would depend on what Sett’s answer would be.

You walked through the parking lot, and then onto the beach, passing by kids building sandcastles and games of beach volleyball as you walked towards the end of the beach where the pool was. As you made your way to the fancier end of the beach, you began to notice the differences that marked the split between here and the side of the beach that you were usually on.

The shops on this side of the beach were much fancier, the sand littered with designer beach chairs and umbrellas. It was crazy just how different two ends of one beach could be.

The pool was noticeable from a great distance, or at least the wall white walls that surrounded it were. At least you weren’t going to get lost and miss the party entirely.

You approached the pristine white stairs that led from the beach up to the pool entrance, equal parts excited and apprehensive. The entrance was an open doorway, covered by a deep blue curtain and guarded by a muscled bouncer in white. The sight alone was intimidating; why hadn’t you just asked Sett to meet you beforehand?

You plastered a reluctant smile on your face before approaching the man. “Hi, I–”

“Name,” he interrupted, not looking up from his clipboard, sunglasses too dark for you to see his eyes.

Well it wasn’t like you hadn’t expected some level of standoffishness from the elite side of the beach. Keeping your smile up, you told him your name, waiting the prerequisite few moments for him to leaf through the list.

He seemed to have found what he was looking for, as his hand with the clipboard went to his side and he moved over to the curtain, pulling it to one side to allow you to enter. He had said nothing further, but seemed to be staring in your direction, so you took that as your cue and walked towards the now-open entryway and into the pool.

The entryway led into a hallway with pristine white walls, soft lighting hanging overhead. You could begin to hear chatter as you got closer to the end of the hallway, exiting into an explosion of sight and sound.

The pool was huge, and there seemed to be an intricate gold pattern on the tiles at the bottom. The pool was surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas, tropical foliage bordering the inner walls around the pool.

There were people all over, in and out of the pool. There was also a bar in the center which seemed to be very popular, as many people were carrying around intricate-looking cocktails.

More than the scenery or the people, your eyes were scanning the area for Sett. You checked your phone again to make sure, finding that it was the time he had told you to be here for. Maybe he was just running late or…

Your rising concern was broken up by the tap of designer wedges on the granite heading your way. You looked up from your phone to see two girls heading towards you, one of which you realized you had seen before.

The stuck-up redhead that had been the reason you had been out on the beach to spill the snowball on Sett in the first place was striding towards you, not a hair out of place underneath her likely-expensive sun hat. At her side was a lilac-haired woman in a swimsuit with a plunging neckline that was color blocked with various shades of purple. Together they made quite a striking pair, but your previous encounter with the redhead had you wishing that Sett would get here soon to save you from the impending conversation.

“Look, Sarah,” the purple-haired one sneered as they came to a stop before you. “So eager to pretend she’s one of us that she rushed right over.”

You took a step back, but that only seemed to embolden them.

Sarah lowered her sunglasses, staring at you like you were in her way. “Sad when they don’t know their place, Syndra.”

“Sett invited me here,” you replied defensively.

The women exchanged a pointed look before Sarah raised an eyebrow at you, a hand on her hip. “You ever think about why that was?”

“What?” you replied, unsure of what she was getting at.

“She doesn’t get it,” Syndra said with a cruel undertone in her voice that unnerved you.

“Look around,” Sarah said sharply. “Really look. Do half the people here look like they belong?”

You looked around, not sure what you were supposed to be seeing. A man with a hook-nose sat at the pool bar, flanked by women in skimpy bikinis. A humanoid form that seemed to be made of water conversed poolside with a large purple man in a ratty straw hat who was holding a ukulele. What were you supposed to be noticing?

“Sett is too nice to break it to you, so the job falls to me,” Sarah said with a smirk. “This is our annual loser fest. Charity case race. Bring-a-freak-to-work-day.”

“Pig party,” Syndra supplied.

“Yeah, pig party,” Sarah repeated, noticing your confused look. “Don’t know what that is? Poor thing.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s pretty simple,” Sarah interrupted. “We take half the summer to find the biggest freak we can, and then we bring them all together and crown a winner, and by the looks of you, Sett is really going for the top prize.”

You gasped, eyes wide, suddenly feeling like you were going to be sick.

“Aw, you really thought he liked you, huh?” Syndra mocked with fake sweetness.

“He didn’t… he never…” you stammered, clutching your bag to your chest.

“Well duh,” Sarah replied haughtily. “He wanted to win. Do you tell a pig when it’s about to become bacon?”

“What is meaning of this?” Braum accused, storming up to your group. “I have not heard of such a thing!”

“Need-to-know, Braum,” Syndra dismissed.

“And you didn’t need to know,” Sarah added.

You felt numb. This whole time… is that why Sett wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend? Why he never did more than kiss you? All this time, he had just seen you as a prize pig for an ugly date contest? It all made sense now, why he had been so desperate to get your number. He had never liked you… it had all been one sick joke. You should’ve known; nobody as attractive as Sett would ever see you as anything but a freak. And was too cowardly to come and tell you the truth to your face.

“Look, she’s crying,” Syndra taunted. “Don’t cry! Soon you’ll be queen pig!”

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here with all these people who saw you as less than human as your heart was breaking into pieces. You were so, so stupid, now wanting nothing more than to cry in peace. So you did, turning and running as fast as your legs would take you out of this awful place.

“Bye, piggy! We’ll ship you the ribbon!”

You heard Braum shout your name, as well as the cruel laughter of the women, but you didn’t stop running. Not when you got to the beach, nor the parking lot or the tacky souvenir shop, the sayings on the gaudy shirts too blurry to read through your tears. Your feet didn’t stop until you were at the doorstep to Taliyah’s home, out of breath, tears running down your cheeks.

The door opened, Taliyah’s face appearing in the doorway. “Hey, did you forget– wait, what happened?”

 “Settrigh, stay still!”

Sett frowned, but did as his momma requested, allowing her to tie the ends of his hair after she had finished arranging it. He loved his ma dearly, but he really didn’t have time for her to redo his hair ten times right now.

It was getting way too close to the start time he had given you, and with how nervous of a person you were, he had intended to be on time, but that was before his mother had discovered the reason why he was cutting their visit short today.

Ma was aware that he had been seeing someone, had been ever since Sett had needed help making food for their first date.

“You do intend to let me meet her, Settrigh?” she asked, stepping back once she had fixed his hair to her satisfaction.

“Yes, ma,” he answered, standing up from the chair.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by his momma’s eagerness, considering this was the first girl he had ever dated, let alone considered introducing to her. This world was shallow; he had learned that early in life, which may be why he found himself so drawn to a girl who had put her all into having nothing to do with him. You broke up the monotony in this busy beach town and gave him something to look forward to other than seeing his ma for the first time in a long time.

Sett knew he was working on a time limit. You had mentioned that you had planned on only visiting Port Navori for the summer, and the summer was half over already, which meant his chances to convince you to stay were also halved, which is where tonight came in.

He had been taking things slow, not wanting to come on too strong and scare you off like he had watched happen to many a beachfront pick-up artist. He had been unwilling to rush things and lose you, but the slip of the calendar into August had forced his hand.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit apprehensive as to how today would end. How would you take him asking you to be girlfriend? He could only hope that he hadn’t misread you entirely.

He didn’t go to the pool parties often, but it seemed like a good way for him to introduce you to his friends, as they didn’t often all gather outside of those parties. He knew you would likely feel out of place, but Braum would be there, and he intended to stick by your side the entire time. And then after the party, if things went well, then maybe he would end the night with you as his girlfriend, but the party would be the first step.

As he left his ma’s house, he found his mind turning to the party. If you were wearing that red swimsuit you had worn last week, then it was going to be a difficult night for his self-control. His desire to take things slow had really taken a hit then, his only saving grace being ma’s lecture on being a gentleman pounding in his head as he tried not to look at how your chest was half-busting out of your top as you leaned over to pick a thread off of his glove. You were really too hot for your own good, which made him all the more eager to see you.

He knew he was running late, the party having started at least ten minutes earlier. It wasn’t his style to be late, but he was also pretty helpless to defy his ma. He only hoped that you hadn’t given up on him and left.

He took the shortest route possible, which included a short trek through some bushes that left him more leafy than he would’ve liked, but it was all forgotten when he spotted the stairs that led up to the pool entrance.

He was able to bypass the doorman who was only half as big as he was and seemed to be wary of interacting with him, stepping out of the way as Sett approached. He pushed past the curtain, hurried steps heading down the hallway. You hadn’t been waiting outside, so clearly you had been able to get in. He tried to fight back the excited grin that wanted to take over his face, but it was a losing battle as he entered the pool area, eyes immediately scanning the area for you.

“Your cruelty is unimaginable!” Braum’s booming voice carried easily through the air. “That girl has done nothing to be deserving of such treatment!”

What had Braum so worked up? Generally he was an easy guy to get along with, easily Sett’s most tolerable co-lifeguard. Not much phased him, which was a little concerning. But Sett had other priorities, the most important being locating you.

You weren’t in the pool, and didn’t seem to be sitting in any of the chairs. Maybe you had gone to the bathroom and would be right back–

“Well how else was she supposed to know Sett is too good for her? She clearly wasn’t going to see reality without a little help.”

Sett’s ears perked up, his attention snagged by the mention of his name, but especially by the latter half of the sentence. He turned around to see Sarah Fortune with Syndra at her side, who had her arms crossed and looked bored. In front of them was Braum, looking more irate than Sett had ever seen him.

“What’s this about?” Sett asked in a warning tone as he approached, the fur of his ears standing on end, leaving him feeling like he wasn’t going to like where this was headed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Sarah dismissed, flipping her hair behind her shoulder with a flick of her head. “We just showed a daydreaming little clout chaser the way out.”

Sett’s eyebrow rose. “A what?”

“Your ice cream girl,” Braum cut in. “These two have told her that this is a party for pigs. They have told her that you intend to bring her here to win ugly contest, and then she had run off.”

“What?” Sett growled dangerously, but the two women remained nonplussed.

“We did you a favor,” Syndra stressed. “If we get a reputation of letting just anyone in, then we’ll lose all status as members of the ruling class of the food chain. So we decided to throw this little pig party to make you come back to your senses.”

“You’re one of us, Sett,” Sarah added. “This pool doesn’t have room for little nobodies who don’t know their place.”

“Rather be a nobody than whatever the hell this is,” Sett snarled angrily, the full knowledge of the truth turning his bad feeling to a mix of simmering fury at the two women, and worry for you. He hated himself for being late and allowing this to happen to you. “Save your concern and don’t talk to me again.”

“But we were–” Syndra started, but Sett wasn’t in the mood.

“If you even look at her again, you’ll have me to deal with. And unlike that girl you just bullied outta here, I ain’t so nice.”

With that, Sett turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit to go do his best to fix this mess.

Braum quickly followed behind him. “My friend, I am sorry I could not stop them in time.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Sett replied. “Wish I’d have known. Gotta go see if she’ll even talk to me at this point.”

“I wish you luck,” Braum said as exited the hallway and emerged out into the sunny late afternoon.

Sett parted from Braum, taking the stairs two at a time as he surveyed the area, trying to see if he could catch sight of you. He quickly crossed the sand, making a beeline for the ice cream stand, even if it seemed like a longshot. He passed by a group of kids throwing sand on an older man sleeping on a towel, but ignored it and kept going. If anything was on fire, Braum could put it out. Sett’s sole focus right now was finding you and hoping you’d let him explain himself.

His chest felt heavy with anger and regret. How could he have let this happen? He hadn’t realized how cruel those women could be, and it had led to them making you believe he thought you were some freak he was using for convenience, which could not be farther from the truth.

Seeing those two talk about you like you were a pariah had brought him right back to when he was younger, to what he had endured at the hands of people just like Syndra and Sarah. People who had ostracized him, did their best to make him feel like he didn’t have a place here. Sett-the-beast-boy-bastard; the words had haunted him for a long time.

He had grown tough in response to the years of bullying, but you hadn’t. This was your first exposure to how awful this place could be. He and ma had dealt with it for years after pa ran off; he had nearly gotten expelled from school after a particularly bad fight with a kid that had made one too many nasty comments about his ma to his face.

Sett stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh as he saw the large closed sign on the front windows of the ice cream shop. So that was a bust. Without giving the store a second look, he continued on towards the rocks and then up to the parking lot.

There was only one other place to try. Chest tight, Sett followed the same path he had the night of your first date, the same path he took every time he walked you home. The walk there was one long blur, his feet unable to stop moving until the familiar house was in sight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett approached the front door, rapping his knuckles against the wood. When no answer came, he tried again, and after a few moments, the door opened to reveal Taliyah, who glared once she caught sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Is she here? I need to talk to her,” Sett said, urgency bleeding into his voice.

Taliyah sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you after this. You don’t deserve to talk to her if that’s how you let your friends treat her.”

“They ain’t my friends,” Sett argued. “If I’d have known they were gonna pull that shit–”

A sly smile lifted the corner of Taliyah’s lips. “Good answer. If you had said anything else, then I’d be slamming the door in your face right about now.”

“Then can I–”

“Talk to her?” Taliyah interrupted. “Nope. Not a good idea.”

Sett’s face must have taken on a darker quality, because Taliyah retreated back a step, raising her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Relax, tough guy. I didn’t mean it like that. But she’s a little too upset to talk to you right now.”

The information only made Sett feel worse. He wanted so badly to talk to you, to do what he had wanted to do before this mess had happened and make you his girlfriend. You had never felt farther away than you did right now.

“Give me some time to calm her down. I can get her to be at the pier at seven, then the rest is up to you,” she said, levelling him with a stern look. “I know this wasn’t your fault. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a chance. She really likes you, so try not to make her feel any worse than she already does. Bye.”

And then Taliyah was gone, retreating back into the house and leaving Sett standing on the doorstep.

 “Brought you some water,” Taliyah announced as she entered the room, glass in hand.

“Who was at the door?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Someone looking for my dad. Told them he’s not here.”

You nodded. It was probably too much to hope that it would be Sett. You winced as you thought his name. You hated how much you wanted to see him, someone who had used you to win some popular kid ugly date contest.

So it had all been a lie then? All the things he had told you about his life, his family? Every time he had kissed you, was he picturing kissing one of those girls instead? Is this really what popular people did for fun? You felt stupid for falling for it, for falling for him. You were so stupid.

With some prompting from Taliyah, you took a sip of the water. After she had made sure you had drank the whole glass, she sat down next to you, taking the glass from you and setting it down on the bedside table.

“I should have known,” you croaked.

“Known that popular girls are bitchy? Maybe,” she responded.

“That it was too good to be true,” you corrected.

“You’re acting like you’re eighty,” she scolded. “There are other guys out there. Ones who don’t have shitty friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “But I really liked him. And I didn’t even get to pet his stupid fuzzy ears.”

“Well if you’re joking, then you must be doing okay,” she said. “How about we go do something to take your mind off of things?”

You frowned, and she rolled her eyes. “Not right this second. I’ll give you until six-thirty to get yourself ready to go.”

Taliyah got up off the bed and headed towards the door. “I’m not gonna let your night be ruined because of a couple of snobs.”

She closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. You laid back on the bed, intent on taking some time before you got ready to just veg out. As much as the notion of going out didn’t excite you right now, it was probably better than being a mopey mess all night. There would be other guys; it was just a shame that you had liked this one so much.

Two hours later, you were walking down the street with Taliyah. Your getting ready to go had consisted of washing your face of all the smeared makeup from your crying, brushing your hair into a semi-decent state and then watching dumb cat videos on your phone until you felt like you didn’t want to crawl in a hole and die.

Taliyah had assured you that you didn’t look bad, which you might have believed if you hadn’t seen yourself in the mirror as you were leaving, but at this point you were beyond caring about how you looked right now.

Taliyah had refused to tell you where she was taking you, and so you were forced to follow her down the familiar path towards the beach, unsure of where it was you were being led. Part of you was worried that you might run into Sett, but then the more rational side of you took over; he was likely back at that pool, partying it up with those girls and lamenting that you had run off before he could win his ugly date prize. It was crazy to realize just how flawed your judgment had been.

You had expected to be walking onto the beach, as it was where you two usually spent most of your time, but Taliyah didn’t go to the parking lot, instead heading towards the rockier section of the beach. You hadn’t been over here before, only vaguely aware of the area as a prime fishing location, bait shops and the like lining the street across from this part of the beachfront.

She took you past the fishing spots, down to near the end of the beach, where there was a small pier that went about thirty feet out into the sea. Like most of the beach at this time on a weekday, the pier was empty, most of the fishermen also having headed out with their day’s catches.

Taliyah led you down the pier to the small bench at the end of it, pushing you to sit down. When she didn’t do the same, you looked up at her, confused.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m gonna go grab something to help cheer you up. You just enjoy the view for a bit.”

You decided to follow her advice, staring out at the water. There wasn’t much to see other than some boats in the far distance and some buoys bobbing in the water that marked the swimming section from the boating section.

It was kind of nice in a way, the calm waters helping you to relax as you watched the waves roll in and out. You stayed like that for a while as you allowed yourself to zone out until you began to wonder how much time had passed. Pulling out your phone, you saw that it had been almost twenty minutes, and yet there was no sign of Taliyah as you looked around.

You had assumed that she went to get you two some food, which likely was still the case. Some of the places here tended to have rather large dinnertime crowds, so a twenty minute plus wait wasn’t exactly unusual. You had no idea where she had gone, so all you could do was wait. If she wasn’t back by seven, you would just text her and ask what was up.

You let yourself be taken in again by the rolling waves as you continued to wait, trying to recall what kinds of restaurants there were on the beachfront. It couldn’t be that fish and chips place; Taliyah had spent a full half hour last week complaining about how stale their food was. Or the taco place, since it had been closed for renovations for the past week. You had been trying to think of a third option when your concentration was broken by someone taking a seat next to you on the bench.

You looked over, expecting to see Taliyah back with some food, but instead nearly jolted off of the bench when next to you was the very man you were out here trying to forget.

Just seeing him when you were feeling so pathetic sent a jolt of you weren’t sure what up your spine, your flight instincts screaming at you as you made to stand up, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.

“I know you don’t wanna see my face right now,” Sett said. “But I can explain.”

“Explain what?” you replied meekly. “Those girls explained enough.”

“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Just listen for a minute. Then you can leave, or punch me, whatever you want.”

You took a look around, still not seeing Taliyah anywhere. You weren’t sure what he could have to say that would make much of a difference, but you sat back down, and he let go of your wrist.

You turned reluctantly to face Sett, waiting for him to talk first.

“Never told ‘em to do somethin’ like that,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t even know about it ‘til I got there and you weren’t there.”

“But they said…” you started, taking a breath to keep yourself calm as you prepared to recount the hurtful words. “They said you were only spending time with me so you could win their whole ugly date contest.”

Sett’s eyes narrowed, the skin of his knuckles tightening on his curling fists. “First I’ve heard of it. Ain’t no way you’d ever place in an ugly contest anyways.”

His words threw you. “Wait, so you don’t think I’m ugly?”

He snorted, a grin playing at his lips. “Well I was plannin’ on askin’ you to be my girlfriend after the party, so nah, I don’t think you’re ugly.”

“You–” you gasped, pulse skyrocketing. This was not how you expected this conversation to go. You were half convinced you were experiencing auditory hallucinations until Sett reached over, pulling you into his side.

“This is my fault,” he spoke lowly. “If I hadn’t been late, I’d have been there to stop that from happening.”

“What happened when you got there?” you asked quietly.

“Braum told me what happened, then those two tried tellin’ me they did it for my sake,” he growled. “I thought I was used to seein’ through bullies from how I grew up. Doesn’t matter now, they won’t be botherin’ you anymore unless they wanna find out why momma says I got her temper.”

“Why were you late anyways?” you asked.

He groaned, leaning his head back against the bench. Even with the sun mostly set, you could clearly see a pink tone to his cheeks.

“What is it?” you pressed, curious about why the intimidating lifeguard was suddenly being so shy.

He let out a long sigh, finally meeting your eyes. “Ma was doin’ my hair.”

You looked him over, realizing that his hair did seem to be tied differently today. The only thing that looked the same was his ears, just as fluffy as they always looked. You could almost hear Taliyah’s voice screaming in your head to pet them. Speaking of Taliyah…

“Taliyah!” you gasped, trying to extract yourself from Sett’s grip, but failing. If Taliyah was to come and see you here with the guy she had taken you out to forget about… “My friend, she’ll be back any second and–”

Sett laughed, and you were immediately left with the feeling that you were missing something.

“She ain’t comin’ back,” he said amusedly. “I’ve got you all to myself for the night… if that’s what you want.”

“Taliyah set me up?” you breathed, not having suspected a thing.

“I asked her to,” Sett explained. “Wasn’t about to let you go ‘cuz of some shallow assholes.”

Taliyah was much sneakier than you had given her credit for, you realized, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind right now. Though that didn’t mean you weren’t hungry, your previous stress melting away and removing the only distraction from your empty stomach.

“So,” you hummed. “Are you still going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

You still had no idea what would happen by the end of the summer, but you really wanted this. You wanted him.

“Yeah, was plannin’ on it.”

 You had thought about it all the way back to Sett’s house. Was it really for the best to go back to your city when the summer was over? Back to your parents’ house to find an equally demanding and unfulfilling job?

The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to stay. Taliyah was here, Sett was here, and other than your brief nasty encounter at the pool earlier, this summer had been the best one you’d had in a long time.

Sett seemed intent on giving you more reasons to stay as he was on you pretty much as soon as you entered his house. You had been standing in the entryway, looking at a picture of what must have been Sett and his mother when he caught you off guard, picking you up from behind.

You yelped, turning your head back to face him just in time for him to dart forward to snatch a kiss.

“You’ll have time to look around later,” he said as he walked down the hall, nudging a door open with his shoulder and then taking you into what looked to be his bedroom.

Once again, you were scarcely granted a look around before Sett had overtaken your attention yet again. You were swiftly carried over and deposited on the bed, Sett eagerly caging your body down against the sheets with his own.

“I wanted to go slow,” he said against your ear. “Didn’t wanna mess things up. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“No,” you gasped as he snaked a hand under your dress, and then under your swimsuit bottoms. “I… I want…”

“This?” he inquired, thumb brushing against your clit, causing you to jolt against him with a breathy moan. “Waited a long time to hear that.”

Seeking more room to work, Sett pulled back to reach down and pull down your swimsuit bottoms, tossing them to the side. You watched with reddening cheeks as he returned his attention to you, head disappearing under your dress next.

His first lick against your pussy felt back-archingly good, but you didn’t have a lot of room to move with Sett’s hands holding your lower half in place. His tongue felt slightly rough, bringing pricks of pleasure-pain along its path.

Closing your eyes tight, you tried not to squirm, but it was difficult as Sett’s tongue prodded inside you before moving back to sucking at your clit. It felt good, almost too good, but you found yourself wanting more than his mouth against you.

“Sett,” you moaned. “Please…”

You weren’t sure if he got the message until you reached down to grasp at one of his hands. He pulled back from you, wiping one forearm against the wet lower half of his face as he sat back. His position on his knees on the bed allowed you a good look at the decently-sized bulge in the front of his tight swim shorts.

Sett caught your eyes, reaching one hand down to cup his cock through his shorts. “All you, sweetheart. Still think I think you’re ugly?”

You somehow managed to shake your head, speechless from his ardent display of his body. Sett seemed to bask in just how speechless he had made you, a sexy grin overtaking his face as he stared down at you.

“Couldn’t ask for more than this,” he said. “But if you want more…”

He was such a tease. With a burning face, you relented.

“Could you just put it in me please?” you asked, too shy to make eye contact.

“Can do,” he replied, and you could easily hear the smug satisfaction in his voice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett stood up from the bed to pull his shorts off, wincing slightly when he pulled the tight fabric over his painfully-hard cock. Tossing the shorts to the floor, his attention quickly returned to you.

Giving his cock a few slow strokes, he watched you sit up on the bed. Feeling a burst in confidence from his display, you reached down to the hem of your dress’ skirt before pulling it up and off your body, Sett’s hungry gold eyes unable to look away from you as you moved onto your swimsuit top.

Once your top was off, Sett struck, pulling you towards him. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he pulled you onto his lap, reaching around to your front to cup your breasts as his mouth went straight to your neck. His hands were warm against the sensitive skin of your breasts, rolling your nipples under his thumbs as his teeth scraped against a sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his hard cock under you and shifted yourself against it, Sett letting out a deep groan in response. You could feel how wet you were, but this wasn’t enough. You needed to fuck him, needed this building tension to come to a satisfying end for you both.

You turned in his lap, looping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him. Sett was happy to meet tongues with you, one hand resting on your ass until you pulled back from the kiss.

You met eyes with Sett, who began to help you lift yourself up, lining up his cock with his other hand. When he brought you back down onto him, you both sighed as you were fully seated on his cock at last.

“Nothin’ else would feel as good as you,” Sett groaned as he began to help you move and up and then back down onto him. “Never wanted any girl as bad as I want you.”

You were much less coherent, moaning out his name as your hands grasped against his chest. With a further burst of confidence, you reached a hand up to his ear, running your fingers along the fur and enjoying the resulting groan, the next upward thrust of his hips hitting even better into you. Maybe you would leave this out at Taliyah’s interrogation later.

“There,” you moaned as he shifted you in his lap, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “Right there, Sett.”

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling you down into a rough kiss as he held you close, thrusting up into you as you eagerly moved along with him, needing to make this gorgeous man under you cum.

Sett came first, stilling for a moment before pulling you slightly back to put a finger to your clit, letting you cling to him as you followed him over the edge.

Once you had both come back down from the clouds, you were set back gently on the bed so Sett could run off to grab a cloth to clean you up with. You watched him leave the room, still having a hard time comprehending just how you had ended up this situation.

You definitely had some phone calls to make tomorrow. Your parents would be surprised, but you would probably focus on the Taliyah part rather than the new boyfriend part of your reasoning. Taliyah would be overjoyed for sure; you’d have to thank her for her meddling when you saw her.

As Sett returned, you realized something.

“Wait, is your mom home?” you asked in horror. You hadn’t made any effort to be quiet during sex, forgetting about his mother until he re-entered the room.

Sett laughed at your mortified face. “I don’t live with ma, so no.”

“Oh god,” you breathed in relief. “I was worried I was too…”

“She ain’t here,” he replied as he joined you on the bed, handing you the cloth he had grabbed. “You can be as loud as you want.”

You dropped the cloth, burying your head in your hands, Sett’s amused laughter ringing in your ears as you tried to content with just what you had signed yourself up for.

[zodiakuroo]

copycat

18+, eren jaeger x fem!reader

part two of pierced

inspired by the 'big stick' scene from jawbreaker (iykyk)

wc: 3.7k

contains: mild dubcon, light dom/sub, ball play, choking, dumbification, degradation, spit, creampie

Eren can’t help but admire you from the doorway of your shared bedroom. One would think, that after 30 days of edging, you would learn not to be such a fucking tease. But here you are flitting around the kitchen in nothing but one of his t-shirts and a frilly pair of lilac panties.

‘Stop being a perv. It’s hot out.’ You don’t have to say it. The ‘you’ in his head is already chastising him for the lascivious nature of his thoughts.

The ‘you’ in his head is also already bent over the granite top counter, panties long discarded, presenting yourself to him, begging ‘Please Eren. Fuck me.’

He can’t help it. Everyday he’s found himself face to face with your cute little pussy, absolutely begging to get filled and not being able to do anything about it. It’s not his fault that when he sees you wearing next to nothing, he just wants to stick his cock in you.

Except it’s entirely his fault.

That’s why even though you can feel the weight of his stare as you move around the kitchen, you don’t even spare a glance in his direction.

If there’s one thing these last few weeks have taught you, its willpower. And thanks to your newfound self-discipline you’re able to resist the urge to pounce on him when your boyfriend pulls your back against the solid wall of his chest. “Baby.” He rasps. “I’m all healed up.”

The statement makes goosebumps appear on your skin despite the sweltering heat but other than that, you show no signs of exactly how pent up you are.

Eren made you swear not to touch yourself whining about how unfair it would be and how he would really appreciate your support in his hour of need. Yes he used those exact words. You kept your promise but not without intending to receive payback. It was only a matter of how. The idea hadn’t come to you yet.

“Really?” You don’t even bother to turn around, pushing past him. Partly as a way to tease him but also because you don’t trust yourself to be able to resist him once you get a good look at him. From his scent alone you can tell he’s fresh from a shower and that’s when he’s the most dangerous. He smells cool and fresh like his shower gel, spicy and warm like his aftershave and fruity and floral like his your shampoo. It’s hypnotic.

The trance is broken when he pulls you even closer to him, grinding his bulge into your backside.

“Stop buying that 2-in-1 shit if you’re gonna use mine all the time anyways.” You grumble.

Right.

Revenge first. Dick second. The voice in your head reminds you.

You wriggle out of his hold, remembering why you came into the kitchen in the first place. You breathe a sigh of relief as you open the freezer door, the cold air providing a brief reprieve from the near suffocating heat of your apartment. Once you’ve obtained your target; a cherry popsicle hidden behind some ice packs and frozen peas, you finally take a look at your tormentor.

“Babe c’mon.” Eren persists.

He looks good. Unfairly good considering the fact that he’s not even trying. Fresh from the shower, he has on a worn out white t-shirt, stretched around the neckline which gives you a mouthwatering look at his perfectly sculpted collarbones and no more than the top of his pecs that peak out above the seam. His grey athletic shorts hang low on his hips and outline his print a little too well so you know he’s not wearing boxers. Eren hasn’t bothered to tie up his long hair leaving the damp tendrils dangling above his shoulders with a few stray strands framing his handsome face. He’s putting up a nonchalant front but the tick in his eyebrow gives his irritated disposition away.

Surely he didn’t believe that you would let him have his way with you that easily.

Except he did. Because under most circumstances he would. But today, your own stubbornness (only marginally) drowns out your desire for your Adonis of a boyfriend so you push past him into the lounge, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Later.” You bring the frozen treat to your lips. “It’s so hot.” Again, Eren tries to keep his face expressionless but you easily spot the way he clenches his jaw as his gaze fixes itself onto your mouth.

Bingo

You close your eyes, enjoying the sweet cherry taste and cool sensation that spreads throughout your body.

“On second thought,” You start, as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. “There is something else I’d rather have in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” Eren dons a matching smirk and stalks his way over to you, sitting down so that you can straddle him. “Tempting but honestly, your mouth isn’t what I had in mind.” His voice trails off, large hands moving down to cup your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze for good measure. But before he can take it any further you’re already manoeuvring your way between his knees.

“Oh. You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You pout, resting your head against his thigh, trying your best to sound disappointed.

Eren swallows whatever argument he was about to present when he sees your pretty eyes, shaded by fluttering lashes looking up at him with the tip of the crimson popsicle pressed against your sinful mouth. The same sinful mouth he’s been dreaming about for a month.

Fuck.

“Yeah, okay.” He grumbles while you watch him pull his already half hard cock out of his bottoms. It’s so pretty and long, perfectly thick in all the right places, decorated at the tip with a vertical running titanium barbell.

He’s got a hand around his base, waiting for you to replace the sweet treat in your mouth with his aching cock but much to his dismay your attention is drawn a little lower.

The sight of his plush balls all swollen and full of cum proves to be too much for you to resist. He shudders when your cold lips press against the taut skin. You know he’s sensitive from being so backed up. That’s why he starts panting as you leave wet kisses on his sac, leaving your saliva all over it while his shaft grows harder above you.

“Hold this for me.” You pass him your popsicle, that is slowly starting to melt which he takes in his free hand.

“Okay can you just- fuck.” One more kiss, right on the shiny metal of his newly healed piercing, shuts him up quickly.

Your own hands find their place on his thighs. You dip your head down again and take one of his balls in his mouth massaging it with your tongue.

“Christ.” He groans, slowly jerking himself off while you worship his balls.

“Oh poor baby…. so full.” You murmur letting go of the left to suck on the right one, savouring the weight of them.

“Yeah.” His voice is about a whole octave higher than usual. “Hurts.” He scrunches up his face when you let go of his ball with a pop.

“I bet.” You giggle. Eren is now at full mast, veiny shaft resting against his abdomen, dribbling precum which coats the shiny piercing that crowns his angry-red tip. His wrist flicks ever so elegantly as his hand moves languidly up and down, up and down, up and-”

“Princess.” Your boyfriend whines, yanking you out of your daze. “Enough with the teasing. You wanted to suck me off. Do it already.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, not losing sight of your revenge plot.

“Baby,” You pout. “I really want to but-” It’s so hard to bite back your laugh. “But I don’t remember how.”

“Wait what?” His hand stops right in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s been so long. Can you show me?”

Eren’s expression goes from perplexed to vicious but you don’t budge, blinking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

“How?” He huffs impatiently. It’s funny actually, seeing him struggle to tolerate a fraction of his own bitter medicine.

Your eyes shift to the frozen treat still in his hand that’s starting to drip down his knuckles. “I’m a visual learner.”

He moves like he’s about to stand up but you won’t make it that easy for him. “Please, Rennie? Please teach me how to suck your cock?”

As much as Eren has you wrapped around his finger, he’s just as whipped for you. So when you look at him with those sparkly eyes and call him the pet name he swears he hates but brings him to his knees when you use it, you know you have him.

Hook, line and sinker.

You use your thumb and middle finger to make a circle around his base, positioning yourself eye level with his leaking slit.

His tongue peaks out cautiously, eyes trained on yours as he flicks it across the tip, testing the waters. Immediately you follow suit, tasting his precum for the first time in so long. His hips buck off the couch, chasing the gone-too-soon sensation but you dig your nails into his thigh, reminding him who’s in control right now.

You quirk your brow at him, making sure he understands what you want.

How many times have you found yourself in this exact position: sitting between your boyfriend’s thighs while he looks down at you, both of you equally as lust drunk as the other. But this time he’s the one panting and whimpering while you have your turn to torture him.

Eren doesn’t like it. Not one bit. He wants to smack that smug little grin right off your face but instead he pulls at your hair, tugging right at the roots and making you yelp in pain. Now you’re scowling. But it’s hard to look at all intimidating sitting beneath him with your head tilted at such an awkward angle. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench together either.

Never breaking eye contact, he uses the flat of his tongue to lick a broad stripe up the length of the popsicle. You squirm in place, remembering how it feels to have him lick across your cunt exactly like that.

Fine. He’d play along with your little game. But on his own terms.

You lean forward to copy him but the hand holding your head keeps you in place. Without looking away, Eren launches a glob of spit onto the already drippy ice-cream before licking it away. It’s that simple for him to put a crack in your domineering façade and have you whimpering right at his feet as per usual.

The corners of his lips twitch as a silent challenge to you.

Never one to back down, you use your tongue to trace the vein that runs along the underside of his cock, feeling it pulsate. As you get closer to his prince Albert, you can’t hold back from swirling the wet muscle around the cold metal.

A soft whimper escapes his lips as you pull away, keeping your mouth agape, looking up at him expectantly.

It’s silent for a moment before Eren realises what you’re wordlessly pleading for. “Fucking slut.” He mutters, almost amazed before he gathers more of his saliva to drop into your mouth with a loud khwa pto echoing throughout the quiet apartment.

You close your mouth with a satisfied smile, savouring the taste of sweet, tart cherry and a flavour that is uniquely Eren, letting it mingle with your own saliva before spitting it on to his cock. You use your tongue to spread the wetness all along the shaft, leaving it covered in slick sheen.

“So fuckin’ nasty.” He groans, moving his hand from your head to push his own hair out of his face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view of you right now.

You feel the way his thigh twitches under your palm every time you come even close to his puffy cockhead and your tongue brushes across the sensitive piercing. The idea that you have him like this, desperate and whining, after weeks of him toying with you is exhilarating to say the least.

You have to rein yourself in before you end the fun too soon.

Reluctantly, you pull away and patiently await your next command.

You know what he wants next and so does he but Eren can’t help but feel self-conscious.

Of course, he loves the way you look when you’re going down him. His gallery is filled with pictures of you with your eyes filled to the brim with tears and your lips stretched impossibly wide around his girth. When you’re not around he gets off to the videos him fucking your face, relishing in the way you gag while you try to accommodate him in your throat. He doesn’t think he could ever measure up to how sexy you look with your pupils blown, lips all swollen and your spit dripping down your chin.

But just like you, he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Ever so slowly, he opens his mouth and latches on to the blunt top of the popsicle. His plump lips form a perfect O-shaped pout, stained beautiful crimson from the fruit juice. Your gaze is transfixed on his face, the sharp lines and edges tinted with an uncharacteristic blush as his cheeks hollow out, to suck it in deeper.

“So pretty baby.” You breathe out.

He shudders as the cool air fans out across his wet skin.

“Yeah? ‘m pretty?” He smirks, using his free hand to drag his cock across your face, smearing his precum on your lips. “Show me how you treat pretty boys. Please?”

And how could you deny him?

Centimeter by centimeter, you pull him in. Only the first few inches, get to enjoy the warm, slippery cavern of your mouth while the rest of him has to make do with the soft skin of your hand gliding up, down and around.

“Fucking take it inside. Christ.” He groans, frustration evident as he glares down at you.

You simply shake your head a ‘no’, far too content with the taste and the weight of him in your mouth to stop suckling at his cock. If he wants more, he knows what he has to do.

The frozen treat is back between his lips and far too quickly, with not enough thought he pushes it inside as far as it can go until his gag reflex forces him to abort his mission, sputtering out red-coloured saliva.

You pull off of him as you erupt into a fit of giggles.

Eren takes advantage of the fact that you’re unguarded and in a matter of seconds he has you pinned to the floor. The poor popsicle is left in a sad, melting puddle on your couch while his long, sticky fingers circle around both of your wrists, the other hand keeping a harsh grip on your jaw.

Yeah. Not laughing now, are you?

“Was that funny to you princess?” He questions you, almost daring you to hit back.

Knowing when to quit was never one of your strong points.

“Not funny.” You say despite your giddy smile. “My pretty boy just needs more practice.” You snicker.

You’re pushing his buttons on purpose now. At best, you expect some degrading words fitting of your bratty attitude. At worst, you expect the sting of his palm to come down against the side of your face, reminding you of your place.

What you don’t expect is a wry chuckle before he says, “I forgot how bitchy you get when you don’t get stuffed full of cock enough.”

Eren frees your hands in favour of placing both of his on your knees. He spreads apart your legs as wide as they can go, dragging his coarse palms up and up to rest at the apex of your thighs. He flicks up the hem of your shirt to reveal to him the crotch of your panties that's soaked through with your arousal. He pulls them to the side to expose your cunt to him. Eren barely stops himself from tearing the flimsy fabric right off your body and only because he thinks they're pretty and wants to see you wear them again.

He can smell you. But he suppresses the desire to bury his face between your pillowy thighs for as long as you’ll let him. He knows that’s not what either of you really want.

“This needy pussy been missing me?” He coos, keeping his voice sugary sweet and dripping with condescension. He grinds his pierced tip all along your cunt, dipping under your hood to press right against your clit.

You feel it before you realise what’s happening; the burn of his fat head of his cock prodding at your tiny hole, forcing it to stretch around him.

“Jesus fuck- ‘s tight.” He grits out, managing to pop just the tip in.

Tears gather at your waterline as he impales you further and further on his cock, reintroducing your insides to him and his newest body mod. The bulb of the piercing drags deliciously over every bump and ridge that lines your walls. It just keeps going and going until it’s all too much.

Instinctively, your hand flies to Eren’s abdomen, fingers splaying across his tummy. You want to ask him to stop or wait or at the very least prep you. But you’re just so full.

He’s not even all the way in and you’re full of him everywhere. Did it feel like this before?

He doesn't give you a chance to remember.

“Move. Your fucking. Hand.” He grunts before moving it for you and sheathing his cock fully in your spasming cunt.

“Fuck Eren. ‘s big.” Your voice breaks as you utter that last word right one Eren fills you to the hilt. Your arms fly to his biceps, squeezing the muscle so tight that you’re certain it hurts him but he doesn’t complain.

No one would believe that mere minutes ago Eren was the one under your thumb. Not when he’s so quickly managed to turn you into a blubbering mess.

“Where’s that smart mouth now?” He mocks you as if he’s doing any better. In reality he’s keeping himself still, with his pressed against yours trying to regain a semblance of control, not wanting this to end so soon.

Slowly, he starts to rock his hips against you and little by little you open up around him, offering less and less resistance. Hand on the bible, he swears he can feel your gooey pussy sucking him in every time he pulls back, almost like it’s begging him to never leave again. Hand on the bible, he swears that he won’t.

“Huh?” He taunts. “Where’s the bitch who thought she could fuck with me?” He emphasises his point with one sharp snap of his hips that hits the bull’s eye.

“Eren! Right there!” You cry out as you back arches up into him but he forces you to stay down by pressing his palm firmly against your sternum.

“Right there?” He mimics your voice, with a high pitched, nasal tone. You can’t even cringe at how it sounds because the feeling of the rounded metal hitting that squishy patch deep inside you with pinpoint accuracy is too overwhelming for you to think about anything else.

“You want me to fuck you here?” His thrusts start to pick up pace. You’re finally getting used to him again and the slick juices from your pussy let’s him move as fast as he wants, as deep as he wants so you he can use his cock to abuse all of your sweet spots

You can’t exactly speak; only nod, as you dig your nails into his shoulders and back, leaving a trail of crescent shaped indents in your wake. The coil at the base of your belly twists tighter, tighter and tighter still as all your nerve endings work overtime to register the way he fills you up completely, the way the metal rubs along all the right spots and the way Eren rams into you like a man possessed.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” Now you’re begging. It’s impossible to stop the fear bubbling in your chest. You’ve become well-acquainted with this feeling. Absolutely drowning in pleasure and right on the edge of an unimaginable peak before having it ripped away. It’s not unreasonable to be worried that Eren might leave you high and dry once again.

He halts his movements the moment he notices the doubt behind your eyes.

Your pleas become more and more frantic, already thinking the worst. “Don’t stop Eren! Please don’t stop.” You sob but go silent when his hand rests itself firmly around your throat.

“Told you.” He punctuates the sentence with one, deep thrust.

“Fuck. What did I say?” He growls as he falls back into the same brutal rhythm that had you teetering on the very brink of an orgasm before.

God above as your witness, you try and answer but all that comes out is a pathetic squeak of his name before he cuts you off completely by squeezing your neck tighter.

“S-said I was gonna fuck you stupid. Right?”

You nod as best you can, head spinning from the lack of air and your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Now fuckin’ cum for me so I can keep my promise.”

The second his hand meets your clit, you’re a goner. The calloused pad of his thumb rubs the neglected nub with exactly the right pressure to push you over the edge. Every muscle clenches as that tightening coil finally snaps. The intoxicating pleasure that shoots through your body reaches your head at the same time as the pressure on your throat is released, much needed oxygen flooding your brain and prolonging the high.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you as cream around his cock. It’s pointless to hold off his release any longer and with nowhere else to go he spills his load deep in your pussy. The feeling of his hot cum seeping into your pussy has you twitching around him, trying to milk every last drop from him.

You may have blacked for a second, eyes fluttering open as Eren gently taps your cheek. His handsome face, all flushed and sweaty comes into focus. Both of you are wearing equally dopey grins as he asks you, “Did it feel as good as I said?”

[angstyantoinette]

Yandere!Howl Jenkins Pendragon x Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Slight NSFW [mention], kidnapping, manipulation, toxic relationships. 

We all know that Howl is very much a ladies man; he knows exactly how to pull women in, and captivate them so that they fall in love with him easily. 

For Howl, it’s all a game. He catches the eye of a girl, no interest on his part of course. She just happens to be in his line of the game. He knows what to say, how to present himself to perfectly fluster and simultaneously intimidate every other person there. He doesn’t venture outside the castle often, and when he does, there’s an air of fear; there’s such awe left in his wake. 

And he loves it. This drama queen feeds off it.

But we also know that Howl is a runner. He cannot commit to anything, hating the restricting nature of feeling tied down. I mean, he abandoned his apprenticeship. With this in mind, Howl makes the most unlikely yandere. But he actually is highly dangerous, although he doesn’t really look like it.

He’s afraid of himself in a way. He understands that he is quite powerful, and after practically going rogue, Howl gets his kicks with spontaneity, with the complete unexpected in life. 

When he meets you, he expects you to give him all your attention, like everyone else. But you brushed past him, looking at his fancy clothes, his blonde hair, sapphire eyes, green jewels swinging from his ears, and the beautiful pendant around his neck. He was picturing it now in his mind, getting ready for the look of adoration, the tense of muscles, the scarlet blush upon your cheeks.

But you looked away. You gathered your belongings, perhaps stowing them away in your satchel, and you just looked away.

What?

Is that it?

You weren’t even interested in him. Howl was still so stunned he had nothing to say, no suave and seductive voice to tempt you into his charms. He was in awe of you; you looked at him with such indifference it made his head hurt. Not with heartache or pain or anything like that. But he could not deny that he wasn’t curious.

Well, of course, not only does this not sit too well with Howl, he is very much a delusional person in this kind of state. However, he is incredibly smart and calculating and he balances these two personalities scarily very well. 

Like I said before, Howl is a very dangerous yandere, and he thrives on his blantant misinterpretation of a mere womanizer to scamper away, unsuspected, unscathed, and free to do what he likes.

Howl doesn’t really hold on to grudges that much, or anything; when he loses interest, he tosses things away. Not all though. 

You, you, YOU. 

Why won’t you leave his weary mind after days of being apart? Why is his  conciousness telling him to look for you, and not relent until he’s succeeded in doing so? Despite all the signs, all of the telltale signs that shows he’s just a little too invested in you, he writes it off as his bad habits resurfacing to play another game. 

And, of course, Howl Jenkins shall oblige!

Howl is a patient man, make no mistake. He finds it enjoyable to watch things go down for a while; no matter how trivial, poking fun in plain sight at innocent civilians never gets old. 

When he finally gives in to trying to find you and play with you for a little while, Howl pushes aside all distractions to do so. That means traveling through counties and villages, towns and cities until he’s found you again.

Howl is desperate for love and affection that isn’t because of his looks. He really wants someone to love him, not the image he puts across, not just above the surface with his tantalizing blue eyes that pull you in and trap you. 

You saw through that. You barely gave him a second glance and while it peaked his interest initially, it annoyed him for days on end. Usually being teasing and indifferent to Calcifer’s complaining, he found himself snapping and getting easily annoyed. Markl began to subtly keep his distance on bad days. 

Now, though, he’s become delusional. In Howl’s mind, you are to blame for his interest, for his inability to keep his mind off of you. You are the sole reason for his burgeoning obsession that seems to be running the show. He tells himself that when he finds you, it’ll leave. This painful, utterly agonising sensation of having you in his grasp, playing his game will go far away. He’ll seduce you, definitely, take you to bed and have a good time and his obsession and all-consuming desire to play the game, just you and him will just...go. Poof.

Except when Howl does find you, he doesn’t feel like letting go of you. 

Ever. 

And while this does take him by surprise, it all starts to make sense for him. 

Because looking at you now, bundled up in his arms, crying in anger and confusion, he sees in the stars that this was meant to be. 

He waits until he’s sure you’re asleep [more like passed out from exhaustion-] to really, really get a good look at you. He notices for the first time your cheeks and how they’re squished against his pillows and wrapped up in his sheets so perfectly, it’s like you’ve been here many times before. He notes how relaxed your closed eyes seem to be, no furrowed brow or scrunched tight eyelids; just complete and utter serenity. 

You’re just so perfect. Could you be a god, some kind of deity perhaps?

He’s in love for the first time in a long time. He may have let it slip by then, selfish and uncaring, but now?

Oh no, Darling, you don’t stand a chance. Howl will do anything to keep you hidden from those bastards’ eyes  protect you, to love you and most of all, make you see that he’s the one for you.

 Always.

You sat in the boiling water filling the bathtub, limp and tired, unresponsive as Howl bustled around you, his task completely focused on getting you ready for bed. Once upon a time, you would have refused to call him by name; instead you settled for ‘bastard’, ‘prick’, and ‘I hate you’. 

You even tried to sleepily mutter these things under your breath, not caring now that you were being lifted out of the bath, and dressed in a white gown. You cared even less when feeling your mind slip away into a soft sleep, curling into your body with comfort, clinging onto Howl’s pillows.

However, in front of his ‘housemates’ [ you could only guess what a talking fireplace could have to do with his wacky moving castle ], you were frightened. Howl didn’t even have to say a word; he had you smiling and  acting somewhat normally in front of ‘Calcifer’ and the little boy, Markl, you thought his name was. 

But you could always feel the sliver of magic take a hold of your wrists from behind, a little voice telling you that staying here was for your best interest, what more could you want? It promised you eternal love, devotion and affection, coated with a sickly sweetness only Howl could pull off. 

All in all, you stopped resisting after a while. Howl was annoyingly patient it seemed, and it frustrated you to feel as though you were a child all over again. He smothered you, insisting on doing the most trivial of things for you, never snapping back at you, never doing anything to remotely answer back at you in the same manner whenever you resisted his help.

It didn’t click until you had cursed at him mercilessly, screeching and crying, pulling at your combed hair, that by acting like this; he looked better than you. He looked above you. Compared to your tantrums, Howl looked calm and collected and completely willing to help you in any way possible. 

But why was he doing all of this? 

Why did you wake up in his bed, with his lanky arms draped all over you as if you were lovers? Why was he spoiling you, letting you wear his clothes, feeding you? What was he trying to convince you of? 

“Darling, I have some new nightclothes for you. Do you want me to help you into them?” He was slower, more gentle tonight as he strolled around his room. He was delberate though, not forceful exactly, but it was more of an atmospherical warning. You could just tell; if little Y/N tried anything, something would happen. 

Some kind of spell, or perhaps even a curse to teach you a lesson.

Ah, there it was. Another gift. 

Did he think you’d simply tolerate him because of his lavish, his blatantly excessive gift-giving?

Why did he look at you with such sickening adoration on his flawless features? 

At last, his bustling seemed to cease and he took a longing glace back at you. He probably only meant it to last a few seconds but the longer he gazed, it just became a cold and glassy stare. 

You knew the feeling of ‘zoning out’ well, but his eyes became darker and darker. Some kind of shadow must have passed over him or something, because he snapped out of his eerie trance and threw himself onto the bed. 

You yelped in surprise, pulling your hands to your sides, hastily spreading them out on the soft quilt like spiders, your legs pushing your body back ever so slightly, eyes wide. 

Howl chuckled, but it was filled with a sinister undertone that you weren’t used to at all. He snapped his head to the right, his hands already unraveling a silk-encased package. 

“I saw these while in the town today and couldn’t help myself.” 

Pulling out the brand new nightclothes, you unwillingly let out a pleased gasp. It was a set of matching pyjamas. They were satin, smooth to the touch and a beautiful shade of emerald, not too bright at all, but not dark either. 

Sometimes, you enjoyed this sort of treatment from Howl, albeit, very guiltily. He was always polite, courteous and kind, willing to help you with anything, but you also couldn’t help but feel a sense of horror, lingering long after you fell asleep. As if it were some kind of parasite. You just couldn’t for the life of you place your finger on it. 

You had learned to never keep him waiting for anything; he was a busy man and as much as he liked to have free reign of his work, he liked to be organised too.

This time you had apparently spent too long admiring your gift rather than answering him.

“Isn’t it lovely, Y/N? I thought it would suit you divinely.”

“Y-yes, it’s beautiful, thanks so much H-Howl.” 

Not wasting any more time, he sat up from his previous position on the bed, and somehow managed to gracefully snatch the nightclothes away from your trembling hands, and shooting you a look as if to say, well, take your clothes off. That was the less sinister version. Howl’s eyes took on a new darkness that growled, or I’ll do it myself. 

Your hands flew to your neckline, undoing the small ribbon that held the soft cotton on you, and allowed Howl to thread his fingers through the material, travelling towards the bottom of the garment and pulling it over your head whilst you lifted your arms, feeling the comfort of the soft sleeves peel off your arms. 

The blush on your face was unmistakeable. It was another embarassment being bathed by him, but this? Stripping you out of your clothes? It didn’t help that he was aware of your inner battle, and having an annoying, but otherwise barely noticeable smile on his face. 

His hand reached over with the satin nightclothes, urging you to take them. You did, carefully so, slipping them on against your flushed body, his cerulean orbs watching intensely. 

As if he didn’t want the image to go away. 

When you had finished dressing yourself, you stood up and  tentatively walked to the mirror, even slightly stumbling on your feet, and gasped in pleased surprise. You looked...beautiful in the nightclothes. The satin felt so smooth on your skin, and the emerald shade brought out your e/c eyes nicely. 

A few moments later though, you gasped for a whole different reason. Howl slipped his hands around the front of your torso, letting them wander further and further down, reaching your thighs with a renewed urgency, pressing you back against his body.

“I didn’t hear a ‘thank you’, darling.” His tone was teasing, but you could detect a hint of anger, annoyance was it? As quickly as the shadows came they departed, leaving you at the mercy of the wizard Howl. 

“No matter,” he rasped against the nape of your neck, placing soft, heated kisses against your skin,”You can say thank you, whilst begging on your knees.”

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

sorry about that ending, it just needed to come to an end before i drove myself mad with the procrastination :)

but what did you think of it?? there really isn’t enough Howl’s Moving Castle fics, let alone yandere ones, but i like how it came out. 

to the person who requested this, Howl, is 100000% the gentle dom we ALL NEED OKAY

[sakurabl0ss0m]

You messed up [kaeya/diluc x reader drabble]

warning: N/A

desc: kaeya effs up by trampling over your heart, and now it’s too late to mend it back up

reading time: 8 mins

major tags: kaeya slander

word count: 1k+

author note: i’m sorry kaeya lovers

listens: when I was your man by bruno mars

Scumbag playboy Kaeya who broke things off with you to shamelessly skirt chase another girl, making you the hot topic of mondstat for weeks on end as “the knight whos heart shattered” and ruining the meaning of love for you. It was only after you temporarily left for Sumeru for a few months did you find some peace of mind.

Scumbag playboy Kaeya who, after realizing how he toyed with you, tries to make ammends only to get outright rejected and told to “never come back into my life again” before getting a door slammed on his face. When the time comes that he regrets what he’s done, it’s far too late and you’re already finding warmth in another man as he mends your broken heart and sends it fluttering in the same breath.

Scumbag playboy Kaeya who watches with the utmost shock and dread through the taverns window outside as his own half-brother leans over the counter to give you a kiss on the lips. Not a quick, chaste peck you’d receive from Kaeya, but a lovingly long-lasting and heartfelt kiss.

From Diluc.

Diluc slowly pulled away, and there was an evident vermillion color on his face– A blush. The dark knight hero, ever the one to even stay in ones else vicinity for too long before taking his own leave, blushing! This fact would’ve been laughed at and washed away with a mug of dandelion wine. But there were no jokes, no laughs, no cheers, nothing.

There was nothing.

Just the icicle Calvary Captain witnessing the one who’s heart he trampled on, giggle with glee and joy and all the other joyful sounds he never heard you release around him. Have you ever grinned so wildly the way you were now? As much as he racked his memory, he couldn’t recall you make such a face.

But it wasn't the fact he couldn't recall it, it was the fact that those memories were long gone in the wind, overwritten by every other night he’d spent with a new lady.

“Gosh that was way too exhilarating, I think my heart might burst from excitement!” You spoke giddily, fanning your face with your hands.

“You look like you drunk one too many bottles, ” Diluc replied, referring to the way your face was shaded crimson, almost the same color as his hair. “Oh, I’m sorry! It’s just, I’ve-” Before you could continue your stammering, the redhead keeled over to press another minute long kiss on your lips. The moment he pulled away, you had practically collapsed over the bar counter. “Shhh,” He simmered your nerves, and you felt your body relax, truly relax. Unlike when you had been told to calm down after getting angry for catching him making eyes at another woman. “There’s no need to apologize.”

Your adams apple bobbed as you swallowed a large lump of breath and spit down. “O-okay...” and, with your face still burning bright as the candlelit flames, you nodded. “I just... Never been really kissed like that before, so it caught me off guard.” Never been kissed like that before? What a joke, Kaeya had kissed you plenty of times.

But they didn't hold the same amount of passion Dilucs did.

“I-I think we should…” You swallowed again, nervous to get the next few words out. As if he’d guffaw in your face and pay no mind to what you said. “Still… Keep our relationship secret.” That said, you squeezed your eyes shut and broke out into a cold sweat. It was only seconds before you received an answer, yet they felt like long-winding hours. “Thats fine.” Came Dilucs simple reply, successfully stunning you to the point you were visibly shook. “I-is it!? It really is!?” You looked like a child who’d found out santa wasn’t real.

“Of course, ” Your beloved complied as he shined the glasses that were far past ready to be drunk from. “I’d rather not have my relationship with you out in the open anyways.” He started and you remembered the tavern owners huge dislike for unwanted attention. A secret he shared with you in the comforts of his bedroom. “Yeah, I agree. Too many people looking for attention I don’t want to give.” Saying that, your eyes quickly softened, a gleam of hurt shining through them. “What we have isn’t something to display for others to exploit or talk about like news. I don’t want to be the talk of the city…” And what you spoke next nearly had Diluc drop his glass. “Not again, not like last time...”

Obviously aware of what you were alluding to, but not daring to actually say it out of respect for your boundaries, Diluc pretty much skidded over the countertop to wrap his arms around your body and enfold you. His hold was so affectionate and tender, yet firm, like he had to keep you together from what was eating up at you from within. “Hey,” He called your name and you had no choice but to stare up at him, entranced by his ruby eyes that you loved so much. They were welcoming, blazing bright with a flame that burned for you. No one else, you.

You could get drunk off his stare by itself, no wine glasses required.

“Don’t worry. We can be a secret for as long as you’d like.” Yet another kiss– Who knew that the typically distant and quiet Diluc could show such a vast array of emotions to one person? “Alright?”

“Mhm…” You hummed and nodded, melting into his embrace with eyes fluttering closed. “ ‘Luc? Could we… stay like this a little while longer?”

“Of course.” He didn’t mind in the slightest, perhaps he’d even refuse to open up shop until later just to stay in this position with you.

“Thanks, and…” For a second, your breath got clogged and you couldn’t speak. It felt wrong to speak what you did next, but there was also a necessity laced in, the need to say it before you missed the next opportunity which you’d always have;

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” It was an immediate response that sent your heart soaring through your chest and made your cheeks sting even brighter. You were tempted to ask him why he answered so quickly, but deep down, you already knew the truth; It’s because he meant it, with utmost sincerity and not a hint of foretold lies.

And that, that was all you needed.

He wouldn’t break your heart. Not like Kaeya did. Diluc would love you so much, make you so happy, you’d forget all about the bad memories all of them in general you attached to his waste of space brother. Bury and spoil you with endless riches, love, pleasure, flush away the negatives that threatened to drown you.

He made that silent oath to you, himself, and the cryo-blessed knight he stared down from outside the window.

That event had foretold everything he needed to know; You had moved on, from his cold grip to Dilucs warm, inviting arms. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Yet, for some reason, he couldn't believe it.

Or maybe, he simply refused to.

That day, Kaeya laughed. At what? Nobody knew, but it was certainly a sight to see the cavalry captain break out into hysterics like he’d heard the greatest joke in Teyvat.