#One day I'll be driven crazy

[chentailai]

别让我想起这段令人高血压的剧情(此处删去限制级攻击性内容)，我记得我在几乎狂躁的状态下急促地为这件事情写了一篇变态的作品(当然不会放到正经博客上摆弄)。Jaime和lorena他们就像出轨的人一样没有好下场，Traci被搞成了复仇女神一样的角色(在惩罚Jaime的方面做的相当出色以至于有些过头)。这件事给我震撼感不亚于在我虚弱的时候，编剧给我脑门上打了一拳。这个三观败坏的臭东西，我一直在骂他，他就像是个流氓突然拿出棍棒揍了你一下然后说:“哦抱歉，我下次再也不会这样干了！你误会了！我没有那个意思！不要误解我呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜别攻击我”。这段令人作呕的剧情对我来说就是一片核弹区，任何一点细微的触碰都足矣让人直接迎来核爆末日。*深呼吸 希望这种纯属是编剧做出来折磨粉丝的东西不会再出现了 ，不然下次会有人为故意恶心人而付出代价

他算是成功了，鉴于我因为这件烂事浪费了太多时间和精力。这就是编剧们在干的事，压榨粉丝的剩余情绪价值。

我要埋了他，哈哈

...Why are you doing this? Of all the things you could have found for Aquagirl (a character who is already deeply underutilized) to DO on this team. You made her "the other woman" trying to tempt Jaime of all people? What is your intention? To make her come off as a bitch WHILE overcomplicating one of the sweetest young love stories in comics?

[ddejavvu]

Deadpool talks you through it, sort of

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Deadpool likes to talk to you while you're sucking him off, purely for the fact that you can't answer him. He'll look down at you, watch the way your cheeks hollow while you bob on his dick, and he'll ask you what you want for dinner.

"I'm feeling Italian," He muses, clicking his tongue like he's thinking, "Or Indonesian, maybe? What about you, honey?"

You make a strangled noise, cut off and muffled by the way you're gagged with his cock.

"Was that a 'Chinese'? I think I definitely heard 'Chinese'." He nods, shifting briefly in his seat so that his cock is driven into the back of your throat. You gag, and your throat contracts around him.

He'll grab the back of your head, keeping his cock firmly buried in your mouth, "Say something coherent if you don't want to order fast food. Aw, no?" He asks, ignoring the way you struggle against him for a breath of air and an unobstructed tongue. All that escapes is jibberish, blabbering around his thick cock that can't be made out.

"Nope, got nothin' from that. Wings, then? Or pizza, a really big greasy one that I'll eat most of and you can have, like, two slices from. Maybe one and a half? Or just everything. Wings, pizza, and that cookie pie for dessert. Yeah?"

You want to shake your head no, because you've told Wade you really need to cut back on your calorie intake, but he's got you pinned, and it's a hopeless case.

"Perfect, just what I was hoping for," He grins, you can hear it in his voice, "I'm so glad we're on the same page. Great minds think alike, huh babe?"

Your only answer is a strangled gag.

--

"So how was your day?"

You glare at Wade where he's staring down at you, and he lets out an indignant scoff, "No need to be rude. I asked you a simple, conversational question. How was your day?"

You say something, certainly something around his heavy cock on your tongue, but the words are incomprehensible.

"Oh. I don't know what that means. Try again?" He offers, though he adjusts his hips to jam his cock further down your throat.

This next attempt of yours is worse, and he shakes his head, tutting lightly.

"Wow. Incredible. Absolute nonsense. I should get you checked, honey. I think you're losing it. One last try?"

You spit a fuck you around his cock, but if he recognizes the curt phrase, he doesn't say anything. He only smirks, thumbing your cheekbone.

"You're crazy." He decides, "You're completely nonsensical. You're lucky that mouth is good at sucking dick, 'cause it's hopeless at talking."

[flemingology]

Biggest Little Fan | Jessie Fleming x Reader

In which: you take your daughter to her mum's football game for the first time

Warnings: none

WC: 1.6k

A/N: based on this request. Realized I am not good at writing the kid dynamic. I don't know if I'll do it again but I still hope you enjoy!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Amelia, you and Jessie's 5-year old daughter, had started picking up an interest for football the last couple months. It was almost inevitably really, seen the household in which she grew up. You and your wife had kept your daughter away from football in her first couple years, wanting to avoid that she became a thing in the media – like you had seen happen before to other players and their children.

Nonetheless, she had been nothing but nagging the both of you to go see one of Jessie's games. "I want to see mama kick the ball," she would claim excitedly. As much as you were fond of the idea, it took a little convincing to get Jessie on board. Although she loved the idea of her wife and her daughter coming to watch her games, both adorning shirts with number 17 and Fleming on the back, it was more the whole footballing environment that worried her. The noise, the people, it could get really busy and loud in a stadium and she knew her daughter was prone to be overwhelmed.

A couple weeks after it was initially mentioned, though, you'd finally been able to convince her. You had pushed her out the door the morning of matchday with the promise of bringing earplugs for Amelia, the koala teddy she brought everywhere with her that Jessie got her after she came back from Australia from the World Cup and a couple toys just in case she would get bored in the family box.

Your wife and you had struggled quite a bit with getting pregnant before it eventually worked out. After 3 failed IVF rounds, you were ready to give up, but Jessie convinced you to go for one more try. And as she promised, the fourth time was successful. You couldn't have wished for a better, more caring partner than Jessie during the 9 months. Now, though, it was like you fell in love with her again and again every other day. Jessie caring for you was one thing, but seeing Jessie care for your daughter had you feeling ways you don't think would ever be replicated by anyone or anything else.

Jessie would get quite insecure from time to time about how much time she spent away from home. Before Amelia was born, you two had grown accustomed to spending time away from each other, but ever since you had your little girl Jessie seemed to struggle with it a lot more. Endless Facetime calls from across the world would never ever come close to the real thing, but they would have to make do for the time being.

That's why, even though she only reluctantly agreed to the plan of bringing Amelia with you for the first time, she couldn't contain her excitement about the prospect of having her daughter in the stands for the first time. Occasions like these didn't come around too often, especially since you didn't travel around the world anymore to watch your wife now that you had a daughter. So to have a game in Portland on a time and day that worked out perfectly for you as a family, you really couldn't let the opportunity pass.

Your usual routine of getting ready for Jessie's matches now included getting your daughter ready too. Instead of bringing Amelia to your or Jessie's parents, she stayed with you throughout the day. You were both wearing matching Portland kits, your wife's name on the back. You knew how much Jessie loved seeing you wearing her last name on your back, let alone her daughter of 5.

Before you knew it, it was time to leave and you and your daughter found yourselves in your car, making your way to Providence Park. You'd left quite early, not wanting to be stuck in Portland traffic, which you knew would have driven your daughter crazy. Forever impatient – a trait she'd definitely taken over you –, it was never a good idea to be on a drive with Amelia during rush hour.

You parked in your usual spot in the family car park, making your way over to Jessie's family box. Her parents and sister were already there, neither would they miss the opportunity to watch their daughter and sister play football, especially now that they didn't have to watch Amelia for once. You held your daughter comfortably on your hip, her outstretched arms immediately looking for her grandmother when you said hello to Jessie's mum. You let her take Amelia while you said hello to everyone else, mingling a little and having a drink before you made your way over to your seat and waited for the match to begin, Amelia sitting proudly on your lap.

Your daughter couldn't contain her excitement when the teams walked out and she saw Jessie, jumping up and down in your lap and clapping her hands when the league anthem sounded in the stadium. As part of her routine, Jessie looked up towards her family box before she walked to her spot on the field, shooting the five of you a small wave before taking her concentration back for the following 90 minutes.

The game went by quick, your daughter asking you questions every now and then about what was happening. She was surprisedly interested, not sparing her koala teddy or toys a single glance – up until Jessie was subbed off in the 80th minute, then she found it a little harder to keep still. Elysse proposed to take her off you for a while, entertaining Amelia for the remaining couple minutes of the game. Not long after, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the end of the match that ended in a 2-1 win for Jessie and her teammates. She didn't get a goal or an assist, but she had been instrumental in her team's build-up play and you knew that she would be happy with her performance.

The team made the lap around the pitch and made sure to thank the fans that had come out to see them, signing a shirt or taking a picture every now and then. You were enamoured with the way Jessie interacted with kids, it had always been a topic of conversation between the two of you before you had Amelia. She was so good with kids and whenever you would see her interacting with her mascot, or children that had come to see the game, you felt a strong sense of domesticity overcome you and simply couldn't wait to have one of your own. Standing here, Amelia on your hip animatedly telling you about how she thought her mama was so cool playing football, you couldn't really believe that this was life.

Before long, Jessie and her teammates arrived at the family section and players started to climb over the bars to make their way to their family and friends. Jessie lingered a little with Janine's family before she made her way over to her family, engulfing her parents and Elysse in a big group hug. She hadn't seen them for quite some time, football wasn't a particularly forgiving job so she was happy that she got to see them whenever she could. Amelia grew restless quite quickly and kept poking you and asking to be put down, but you knew Jessie liked the little moment of peace with her parents so you relented.

After a couple more moments Jessie managed to wriggle herself out of the conversation and eagerly made her way over to you both, a big grin forming on her face when she noticed Amelia sitting on your hip. Your daughter stuck her arms out for Jessie to grab and you let her, your wife smoothly taking her from you and settling her on her hip. "Mama, I watched you the whole game!" Amelia exclaimed, looking on with wide eyes at your wife, proudly telling her everything about the game that she noticed and remembered. You watched on as they interacted, your feelings overcome with pride as you thought about the little family you and Jessie had created.

A couple minutes later, Jessie put Amelia back down as she asked to go play with Elysse, the both of them now running around the family box as Amelia's giggled could be heard throughout the whole block. Jessie moved closer to you and pressed a quick, sweet kiss on your lips. "Thank you for coming, thank you for bringing Amelia. I loved it more than I thought I would," she exclaimed, leaning her head on your shoulder as you affectionately rubbed her back.

You pressed a kiss against her crown before speaking up. "I knew you'd like it. I loved it too, it's really nice to think about the little family we've created together."

Jessie looked up at you and you couldn't miss the unshed tears in her eyes, quickly wiping them away before they could spill. "I'm proud of this. Of us. We did so good," Jessie said, intertwining her fingers with yours. You both watched as Elysse was now running around with Amelia on her shoulders.

"We did very good. I love our family and I love you, Jess." Jessie squeezed your hand. "Forever."

[a-simple-imagine]

Too Cute to be Angry

Synopsis: A night spent talking to politicians and alt right superheroes is enough to drive anyone crazy but it's sister sage that puts you over the edge

Pairing: Victoria Neuman x fem!supe!reader (feline shifter)

Words: 3k+

A/N - self ingulgent little cat girl fic with my favourite supe written entirely for myself :)

WARNINGS - swearing, brief mention of murder and homophobia

Victoria Neuman was the busiest woman you know. if she wasn't spending her days in meetings or on Zoom calls, she was attending interviews or making speeches. she was a very driven woman. had big goals. ones you could hardly even fathom but not from lack of trying. you wanted to be part of her world but at the same time, it was so difficult to comprehend. it's not as simple as black and white. the people she surrounded herself with weren't always the best and for the most part, it's clear she tries to keep you out of it. possibly some misguided attempt to protect you.

it was a rare afternoon that was cleared just for you. nobody else around. no work calls or meetings. just the two of you sharing a quiet moment. laying on the couch with your head in her lap.A delicate hand scratches behind the feline ears that live upon your head. it feels good; and calming.a sluggish but continuous rhythm that was drawing you to drowsiness. She wouldn't mind. it wouldn't be the first time nor the last that you fell asleep on her.

"babe,"

"yeah?"

"how would you feel about going out tonight?" the answer was no. it was always going to be no. you were too content with a quiet evening to suddenly have plans thrust upon you.

"Where?" you question anyway and her hand slows.

"Tek knights." a mumbled answer that your ears pick up loud and clear. she couldn't be serious right now. there is absolutely zero reason why she would be going to see Tek Knight for anything but business and she already promised you no business tonight. it was just gonna be the two of you.

"Are you... serious?"

"some fancy party."

"no," replied snappily. "dude is creepy."

"When have you ever met tek knight?"

"once actually," you state, moving yourself up to look at her. "and he was fucking weird- asked inappropriate questions about my tail." you swish your tail, gently grazing it against her cheek.

"Well, you can just avoid him all night," Victoria insists, shoving your tail away. "I'd really like you to come."

"no thank you, can you go back to scratching behind my ears now." you lay back down.

"no,"

a heavy sigh. "Victoria," whined softly, as you nuzzled into her lap. you're tempted to gently bite her thigh but you don't. that would not help your case right now. "please?"

"if you agree to come I'll give you all the ear scratches you want."

"that's not fair."

"I need a buffer for when I can't take it anymore and that's you," she gives your side a firm pat. "I got you something pretty to wear."

"how pretty," mumbled against her legs.

"very," that meant expensive. you groan, stretching your arms and legs before sitting up. she raises a curious brow that makes you roll your eyes. She wasn't going to let this go.

"fine but you owe me," she places her hand on your head, ruffling your hair, making sure to get behind the ears. you naturally lean into her touch. this was gonna be a very long night.

Tek Knight lives in a mansion. like an actual massive mansion that's old and creepy but also kind of cool. gothic in nature and not an ounce of homeliness to its name. Victoria annoyingly leaves you alone pretty quickly and you're forced to find your own source of amusement. music plays as background noise and there really isn't anything to do here other than touch ornaments or talk with Republicans. She didn't tell you this was gonna be a party filled with right-wing nuts but here you are anyway. conversing with old white men about reproductive rights and how gay people are fine but need to stop shoving their lifestyle down Americans' throats. you observe the party from the corner of the room. helping yourself to the hors d'oeuvres as trays rush by. It's always a wonder why they don't just have actual food at these events or at least something a little less fancy. something actually tasty.

"you're Neuman's girl, right?" it's not inherently wrong so you allow the nickname especially when you realise who it comes from. she has never tried to hide your relationship but she hardly advertised it either. can't scare off the voters or whatever. you don't mind. you're not exactly in a rush to be hounded by the general public. Homelander stands beside you; strong and tall in his red, white and blue super suit. You've never been next to such a powerful supe before excluding Neuman. he was intimidating in real life.

"homelander," you declare obviously. you're not sure what else to say here. Victoria speaks about him a lot. he's also in the news all the time. you very recently watched him on TV. "I saw your trial," blurted out before you thought of the consequences. he probably didn't like to talk about him murdering a man.

"so you saw that I was found innocent,"

you nod a little. he'd been found not guilty despite the overwhelming evidence which was kind of insane but also expected. "Vicky says you should have been locked up," you agreed.

"and what do you think?" he turns his whole body towards you and you do the same. such intense eyes it's almost like he's looking right through you. you may be a supe but you were hardly on his level. Victoria says he's kinda unstable these days and anything can set him off so you try to think of something safe to say.

"I think... your eyes are really fucking blue- no wonder fascists love you," he smiles. you don't know if it's amusement or menacing but surely he understands you're joking. and if not, he likely won't attack at this fancy little party.

"calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

"What makes you think I'm worried." he wasn't a mind reader that you knew for sure.

"your heartbeat," he replies. "but mostly the ears," the blonde points to the cat ears on the top of your head. "anyone else would call it cute," and with that, he walks away. he was a... confusing man. even from that short interaction, you can tell he can be elusive. alone once more you decide to go in search of a drink but it isn't long before Victoria is at your side.

"hi baby," you're happy to see her. you hope it means you can go home soon.

"hey,"

"What did he want?"

"Who? homelander?" why did she care? "just chatting about his trial and how cute I am."

"how cute you are?" she repeats back slowly.

"Hmm it's no surprise- everyone is obsessed with me so."

"you are adorable,"

a very bright exaggerated smile, showing your canines before your face immediately falls. "can we go yet?"

"you promised you'd hold out a couple of hours," and it was starting to feel like a lifetime.

"and I have," you groan dramatically.

"It's barely been an hour,"

"y'know, I literally got told women have too many rights," you reply. "too. many. rights- what does that even mean?"

Victoria sighs softly. "I know they can be... opinionated but just suck it up for me okay? it'll be over before you know it,"

"I wanna go now,"

"I know," she runs a gentle hand along your back. "but this is important."

"why is it so important?"

"I- I can't tell you that right now," Victoria replies. She never told you anything. it was always just important calls or important meetings or important parties. it made you want to roll your eyes. "just please behave for me," you put on a pout. "and I'll take you to the nice restaurant with the fancy cakes you love,"

"Really?" said cautiously. when in doubt she'll bribe you. not because she doubts you'll do it for free but rather as an insurance policy. better safe than sorry.

"Always so easy," she chuckles. "you gotta work on keeping your ears in check. perked right up when I said that,"

you frown a little, reaching up to cover your ears with your hands. "stupid ears."

"It's cute," she hums softly, a kiss placed against your temple.

"I hate you," said sharply.

"Just... mingle or something." Victoria pats your shoulder before leaving you alone again. you follow her with your eyes as she walks up to some old man. you decide to go for a walk and find that drink you were after.

"you arrived with Neuman," stated matter of factly. sister sage walks up from behind you. you cover your mouth as you finish the little pastry you stole off a tray.

"Sister Sage," mumbled through a mouthful before you swallowed. "newest member of the seven- I heard you're like the smartest woman ever."

"smartest person," she corrected.

"smartest person," you repeat. "what's someone so smart doing in a place like this?"

"we're surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the United States of America right now," Sage explains. you know on some level that should mean something to you but you hardly feel excited or proud. quite the opposite. you were in a room with some of the worst people in the United States of America. Almost all of them are against the very things you are.

"but not the nicest," you grab a champagne flute as it passes by, taking a long-needed sip of bubbly liquid.

"nice only gets you so far," she continues. "you're probably the nicest person here but also the least important."

wow. okay. rude. "I wouldn't call myself the least important."

"I would," she replies. "even the waiters are of more value right now. you're just Neuman's basically pet, cute but useless."

you're not sure what to say to that. is that why Victoria never shared anything with you? didn't think you were important? just a pet to be paraded about like some cute little mascot in her parade for power? "I'm not her pet."

"how do your ears and tail work? they're biological right?" the question catches you a little off guard. such a change.

"uhhhh shouldn't the smartest person alive be able to figure that out?"

"you're a shifter but only into a feline," her eyes trail over you like this was some sort of interview or examination. "do you keep the ears for aesthetic purposes? surely, you can get rid of the cat ears and tail."

"you'd think," you shrug. "but no, I'm cursed to be every nerdy incels wet fantasy." the cat ears and tail were considered cute by many, disgusting by others and a fetish by too many. for a long time, vought used you in a lot of advertisements and commercials until you quit. you still occasionally do some ads and stuff for extra cash. Not often do people see a real-life cat girl. a hand snakes across your back and you instinctively jerk away before realising it's Victoria. "hey,"

"Can we talk?" she wears the fakest smile ever.

"hmm," sage hums. you quirk your brow.

"What?"

"Nothing," she insists. "you have the exact dynamic I would expect. don't mind me." you'd ask what she meant but she is already walking away and Victoria is leading you in the opposite direction.

"what's up?" you wonder.

"I don't want you talking to sister sage."

"why?".

"Can you listen to me for once?"

"for once?" all you do is listen to her. this whole night was for her. "I'm here listening to old men tell me I deserve to go to hell for you. this is worse than that political banquet where that man followed me around the whole night and kept trying to pet me." you huff.

"you don't think I haven't thought about popping my own head every time one of these rich idiots tries to talk to me about reproductive health?" her voice is quiet but stern. she's trying not to cause a scene. "but I put up with it so just suck up. it's important."

"oh really? never would have guessed." you roll your eyes. "I'll just go sit in the corner and stare at the wall since I'm not important enough."

"That's not what I said,"

"no I get it, don't worry," you force a smile and brush past her. "I'll be a good kitty."

it's a quiet ride home. silent even. staring out the window as bright lights zoom past. you can hear Victoria chatting on the phone. much too busy to take note of your angry brow or vacant stare. you're angry at her. Sage's words weren't helping either. playing over and over in your mind. cute but useless. you couldn't necessarily disagree. Even Vought just wanted you because of how you looked. sure you had enhanced strength and senses but that was only compared to humans. there were plenty of much stronger supes. there were even more useful shifters. you just became a cat. agile. sneaky. but ultimately just a common house pet.

"Are you gonna pout all night?" Victoria eventually asks as you pull up outside her home. it pissed you off more.

"I'm sorry, I thought I wasn't allowed to speak." replies sharply as you exit the vehicle; a quick slam of the door. you hear her get out the other side and follow behind.

"I didn't say you couldn't speak,"

"semantics," you huff back. maybe she didn't say you couldn't talk but she did try to control every conversation. who you could and couldn't speak to. always checking in to make sure you weren't saying the wrong thing. "I don't feel like talking."

"We need to."

you just ignore her. That was much better than an argument right now. all you wanted was a hot shower and to go to bed. As soon as you get inside, you march upstairs. She doesn't follow, instead heading towards the kitchen.

the hot water was a welcomed distraction from your otherwise terrible evening. it was supposed to just be about you too and she just couldn't help but make it all about herself. propping herself up to important people. sneaking off for private meetings that you weren't allowed to attend. you go to bed alone. she was probably downstairs working like always. you don't know how long it is before she joins you.

"you have to talk to me eventually," Victoria hums. "can't sulk in your other form forever."

whenever you fought you liked to shift. being a cat was simpler. nobody had any expectations for cats. it was like the perfect excuse to not have difficult conversations. She couldn't understand you after all but you could understand her. loud and clear. "just tell me what's wrong."

you stretch out. fluffy kitty paws morph into human hands and legs sprawled out in the darkness. you sigh softly following on to your back. Victoria is sitting on the edge, looking down at you. "I'm not your pet," growled quietly.

"I never said you were,"

"that's all anyone sees me as," you reply. "Neuman's girl. neuman's pet. cute but useless/ that's what sage said."

"that is why I didn't want you talking to her," she replies.

"but she's right," you express. "you don't treat me like we're equals. you hide stuff from me. tell me it's too important and I won't understand. I'm not a fucking child or your silly little house cat, Victoria."

"Baby," a gentle hand moves to your arm but you shake her off. Moving onto your side and away from her.

"don't."

"Okay," she retracts her hands slowly. there's a moment of silence before she continues. "I don't see you as a child or some silly cat."

"Sure you do,"

"I don't," she insists. "I'm a politician there are some things I just can't share with you-"

"but you don't tell me anything," you interrupt

"but I admit I could share with you more," she proceeds with. "I just... I try to keep you out of all that bullshit. not because I think you're stupid or useless but because it's just easier. I don't want them tearing you down to get to me,"

"But I'm willing to take it,"

"you shouldn't have to. I don't want that for you- for us." she urges. "Sage can say whatever she wants but I don't believe those things about you. You're smart, beautiful and adorable sure but you're not useless. I'm so lucky to have someone as caring and wonderful as you."

"gross," said playfully after a moment. a small smile tugs at your lips though. "Victoria?"

"mhmm?"

"I'm sorry for acting like a spoilt brat tonight,"

"I'm sorry I made you spend an evening with all those awful people," you chuckle lightly as you roll over to look at her. they really were awful people. and maybe you weren't one of the most important people in America but you were a good person. a nice person. and that was much more interesting.

"World's worst and most boring party," you voice. "how did your private meeting go?"

she hesitates. probably a debate on whether to tell you or not. "...pretty well I think."

"Vice President Neuman has a nice ring to it," you tease. smiling up at her in the darkness. a strip of moonlight crosses her face. twinkling in her pretty eyes. it was a wild thought. one day soon you could be dating the vice president of America.

"how do you feel knowing you'll be the second lady?"

"oooh so official. so important."

"you're already so important,"

"to you maybe." you huff.

"does anyone else matter?"

"you of all people saying that is crazy," you semi-tease. it was kinda true. she cared a lot about her image. about how the world saw her. "let's just go to sleep."

Victoria doesn't answer but she does lie down, shuffling up behind you. there's a slight hesitation like she's not sure if you've truly forgiven her. you move closer to her, resting your head against her chest. listening to the way her heart thumped in her chest "night."

"good night," you hum softly as you let your eyes flutter closed. "I'm gonna get so many fancy cakes tomorrow."

[m-ayo-o]

what abt ichigo + bunny reader for the emoji event?? loveddd ur kisuke one!

ty kisuke is a fave 😌 -evidently since i couldn't keep him out of this... emoji event : 🐇🧡 bunny!reader x 21+ ichigo 18+ needy f!reader, sending nudes! thigh riding, fingering, sex- he feels bad for leaving his grl :( wc .7k

You watched your man leave three days ago now. You just can't stand the heat between your legs any longer. Driven by your crazed, horny desires, you get dolled up in some pretty clothes- the shortest skirt you can find, a skimpy top, with no underwear. And, although you know your man is working hard, on some serious mission... protecting the soul society or whatever he's doing up there... you stand in front of the mirror and take the sluttiest photos you can muster.

You slowly start stripping off pieces of clothing, feeling turned on by your own seductive actions, until you're bending and spreading that pretty bunny pussy for him to see.

Satisfied with your work, you open up his contact and send away your beautiful images. You know they'll drive him crazy.

He opens his phone carelessly, tapping on your icon and-

"Ah-"

You take his breath away.

"Kurosaki, who- who is that?" Kisuke ogles over his shoulder as they stand together in the R&D lab.

Not for much longer.

"A girl?? With, with bunny ears? W-w-where-" but Ichigo is already turning to leave.

"I, uh," his face is bright red, "I have to go."

He didn't realise you were quite in this state. He tries to stay by your side as much as possible, but this time it just couldn't be helped. He can't help but feel guilty- he knows how much you struggle by yourself.

⋆

And minutes after your messages were read, you have your gorgeous owner back, apologising for leaving you, telling you how much he loves you and that he'll never do it again.

"Please, baby bunny, let me make you feel good," he strokes your floppy ears and takes you to the bed, where he gets you sitting on his lap.

You feel his fiery hot touch over your body, his hands starting to pull and drag your heat over his leg.

"That's it, bunny, please use me," he whispers and kisses you hungrily, loving how you're starting to hump him.

"Want you to get off right here," he watches the way your hips move, leaving that wet slick on his clothing.

"uuh, huh" you hum and moan, getting closer with his hot encouragements.

And once you've got his leg all messy, it's his fingers. They give you that dizzying stretch that you can't manage with your own.

"Baby, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he's desperate to make you feel good, holding you close while he slots his thick fingers in and out of your needy pussy.

Your mouth hangs open with another silent scream, feeling his thumb push on your clit, getting you buzzing again.

Now your perfect body is ready for him, he strips, and you stare at the way his muscles are illuminated in the soft light.

And he pushes you down on the bed, laying you flat on your stomach so he can play with that soft little tail.

"I can't believe I left you feeling like this..." he pushes your legs nice and wide as he mounts you, getting his cock all covered in your cream.

"hnn, Ichi- Ichigo, it, it's ok, please, please, just-"

Before you can even finish he's gliding in.

"Don't worry, baby, 'm back now."

He's so glad, to see your face overwhelmed with that satisfied, fucked out expression already. His heart fills up, watching your toes curl with the first orgasm from his cock. The guilt of leaving you eases with every thrust, until you're gripping at the sheets and begging him to fill you with his cum.

He knows he wants to. You know he eventually will.

"Not yet, baby." But Ichigo doesn't do things by halves, and he has endless stamina.

"After those pictures- bunny, I, I'm gonna need a bit longer, ah, with you tonight, ok?"

"mmmh- yeah, please, Ichi," you hum, loving the sound of that.

"Good, good, because I love you and need to treat you better," he hums and moans, bending over your body to press kisses to your temple while he fucks you softer.

And your body sinks into the mattress, letting yourself relax and enjoy the overwhelming pleasure of him.

i love him, he's so intense and cute :c

bleach | m.list

[jetblack4realz]

lake days vi - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - jake and rooster have always had it out for each other, except now they have even more reason to

pt i , pt ii , pt iii , pt iv , pt v

warnings - as per usual nah but anticipate some tension haha

word count - 5.2k

______________________________________________________________

you were sad to leave your family, of course, but as you sat in the back of an uber you really missed your truck. jake had driven his own back to california and while you could've driven yours, you'd wanted the last few days before the mission with jake - able to kiss him and hug him and tease him all you wanted.

you started to regret that decision.

the driver was an older woman with a love for chewing her gum extremely loud and a strict rule against the radio. you scrolled your phone awkwardly, all too ready to jump out when she finally pulled up to the hard deck.

"thank you!" you cheered as you jumped from the vehicle, bolting for the front door.

you pulled it open with a wide grin, eyes searching for your favorite sailor gal.

"penny!"

she turned with a smile as you approached the bar. you sat in front of her, the woman pulling out some whiskey for your usual old fashioned.

"how are you, sweetheart?" she asked, mixing your drink up expertly.

"wonderful," you answered, catching the glass when she slid it over to you. "glad to be back in fightertown."

"well, i'm sure glad you're back too," she said with a gentle smile. "amelia's gonna want to see you."

"i wanna see her too! how old is she now?" you asked.

"15," penny said.

"crazy," you drawled. "how in the hell is she 15 years old?"

"i have no clue," she breathed a laugh.

a whoop caught your attention and you looked over at the pool tables to see jake with coyote.

"looks like i ain't the first one here," you remarked.

"nope," penny said.

"i suppose i'll go say hello," you said, hopping off the stool. you shot penny a grin. "i'll be back later."

"sure you will," she nodded, laughing as you shook your head at her and approached the boys.

"yoti!" you called, walking up to the two with a grin and open arms. "how's my favorite backseater?"

"aw, i'm still your favorite?" he asked, accepting your embrace with a chuckle.

"of course you're still my favorite," you told him. you pulled away, leaning back against the table behind you. you looked at jake, a thin, polite smile on your lips. "hangman."

"bronco," he reciprocated, but the grin on his lips was all too different from yours. you bit back your smile as he continued. "you look as good as ever."

"must be refreshing for you," you told him. "all those times you look in the mirror have gotta be awfully disappointing."

coyote laughed loudly. "you two still at it, huh? even after being stationed together for a year?"

"we weren't on missions together, thank the heavens," you grumbled. jake looked amused at your words, stepping towards you slowly.

"nah, but i did get to see her pretty face around base all the time. highlight of my day, sweetheart," he said.

you really wanted to smile, to flirt back, to kiss him right on the mouth because you knew he was being truthful, but you couldn't give up your game so quickly.

"i'm sure it was, bagman," you answered.

suddenly, phoenix entered the room and you were all too happy for the attention to turn to her and the two men she'd brought along.

"phoenix!" you cheered as coyote and jake stared down the men by her sides.

"bronco!" she echoed with a grin, approaching you quickly. you threw your arms around her shoulders, letting one hang off after you pulled away and turned to stand by her side, facing jake and coyote.

"boys, this here's bronco. that's coyote, and there's bagman," she introduced.

"hangman," jake corrected.

"whatever," she said with a slight grin and shake of her head. "this is fanboy and payback."

you tuned out as they all continued to talk, instead turning your attention to a khaki-clad man sitting next to you, munching on something. when had he gotten here?

"who's this?" phoenix seemed to be on the same page as you, glancing at the man.

"don't know," coyote hummed, looking to the man. "when did you get in?"

"oh, i've been here the whole time," he said with a sheepish smile, looking a bit surprised he'd been addressed at all.

"my man's a stealth pilot," jake said.

"literally," you agreed.

"a weapons systems officer, actually," the guy corrected.

"who can't take a joke," jake breathed out, rolling his eyes slightly as he stood from his place at the pool table. phoenix stepped towards the unknown man, you sliding your arm off of her to let jake slip in between you, a wink shot in your direction.

"what do they call you?" she asked.

"bob," he answered.

"no, your callsign," you said.

he hesitated, his adam's apple bobbing as he gulped slightly. "bob."

the bell rang, a gentleman in front of penny having been caught with his phone on the counter. she smiled mischievously at him as jake whooped and quickly made his way to collect beers for the lot of you - on the old timer's tab of course.

the doorbell jingled behind you, catching your attention as phoenix made the sudden connection that he was her backseater. you turned to see bradley bradshaw enter with the same swagger he'd had since flight school. with aviators on his nose and a hawaiian shirt on his shoulders, he didn't look a blink different from how you remembered.

apparently you didn't either.

he beelined for you as coyote joined your side, eying the man carefully.

"bradley bradshaw," you hummed, a smile rising to your lips. out of the corner of your eye, you could see jake making his way back towards you after setting a new song on the jukebox - his favorite, his pace quickening at the sight of rooster. "you finally make your way back to fightertown."

"and so do you," he said, a soft smile on his lips as he looked you up and down. he held a hand out, the two of you slapping your hands together and then pushing off with a simple snap of your fingers - a little shake you'd come up with at the academy. "good to see you y/n."

"you too," you answered. jake was on the scene in a flash, walking to your side.

"rooster bradshaw," he said. "as i live and breathe."

he strolled passed you, coming to bob's side and stealing the pool cue from him. he lined up his shot as bradley took his place next to you, arms crossing over his chest.

"hangman," bradley said. "you look good."

"i am good," jake agreed, shooting his shot and landing the yellow ball into the corner pocket. he stood up, a grin on his lips as he looked at his fellow aviator. "i'm very good, rooster."

"i'm not sticking around for y'all to flirt some more," you told them with a wave of your hands. "i need a drink."

just as jake went to offer you one he'd grabbed, rooster squeezed your shoulders.

"i got something better for ya."

he made his way to the jukebox jake had just set and unplugged it. patrons groaned in annoyance, but rooster ignored then, instead sliding onto the seat of the piano and beginning the first chord of the song everyone knew him for.

phoenix called the guys to follow her to join his side, leaving you with jake and coyote.

"here he goes," you hummed.

"always the show off," jake said.

"he's called rooster for a reason," coyote told him.

the sound of the bell ringing caught your attention next, penny smiling at the leather-jacket-clad man in front of her who's card had evidently declined when he attempted to pay.

hangman and coyote approached him quickly, payback following behind them to scoop him up under his arms and carry him to the door.

"thanks for the drinks, pop!" he yelled as they tossed him into the sand. you laughed from where you were at, phoenix glancing back you. she furrowed her brows, nodding her head to beckon you towards her.

you arrived at her side just as rooster began singing, a laugh erupting from your lips as he went all out as per usual. he glanced up at you with a wide grin as he continued, his fingers dancing over the keys in effortless memory. you rested a hand on his shoulder, beginning to sing the song you'd grown to love along with him. it all reminded you of old times in school and you sorta loved it.

rooster was smiling up at you as he sang, glancing down at the keys occasionally but always returning to you, shooting you a wink at certain parts of the song and earning a laugh from you.

jake was watching you with a grimace, not loving the way rooster was looking at you one bit.

"you good, hangman?" coyote asked.

"fine."

when you all agreed it was time to head out, you weren't surprised to find jake by your side.

"i could take you back, bronco," he offered with a sly grin.

"that's alright, hangman, i'm taking her," rooster said, eying the man down.

"no, really. it's no problem," jake said, looking at you intently. "i'll buy you french fries and ice cream."

"sorry roo, i'm going with bagman," you announced, clapping the man on the shoulder with a laugh. "i'll see you guys later!"

"goodnight!" rooster called, looking a bit perplexed for a moment.

"be good!" coyote yelled with a laugh.

phoenix didn't look all too surprised as she bid you a farewell and waved you off. standing next to her, bradley's perplexity had morphed into a bit of frustration.

"who would say no to french fries and ice cream?" natasha asked him, grinning.

"or hangman?" coyote teased, laughing when phoenix whacked him in the shoulder.

"it's not like that. they're barely even friends," she told him.

"yeah, sure. you see the way he looks at her?" rooster asked, eyes still on the two aviators as you strolled away.

"the same way he looks at every pretty girl," phoenix said. "he's a manwhore who's desperate for attention, same as always."

"and she isn't falling for it," coyote added, looking at rooster with his brows pulled inward. "no need to worry, man."

"i just don't want her getting hurt," he said. "she's been my best friend since flight school."

"yeah, well she's my best friend too. and i know she won't. she's smart," phoenix hummed. she patted bradley's bronco, pulling the handle to open the passenger door. "now come on, i wanna go home before training tomorrow."

jake and you were nearly back to his apartment when he finally said something. you were sat next to him, hand in his as you dipped your french fries in your mcdonald's soft serve, extremely content with how the night had gone.

"i don't like how bradshaw was looking at you."

you eyes flashed to his, brows furrowed. "what do you mean? it's just bradley."

"and i don't like that you call him that. it's too personal," he huffed.

"what are you talking about? i've known him since i was 18, of course i'm gonna call him by his name. he didn't even have a callsign when we met," you explained.

"look, i get it. i do. i just - i don't like how he was looking at you and how he got more attention than me. and i get it, we're doing this thing, playing this game, but i don't want bradshaw thinkin' he's got a chance with you when he doesn't."

if there was one thing you appreciated about jake, it was his honesty. and frankly, he was damn good at articulating exactly what and why he felt things. it always made you wish you were better at doing that yourself.

"you're right, he doesn't. i'll make sure he knows," you told him, squeezing his hand with a soft smile before returning to your ice cream cone. "and frankly, this mission will be over and done before he even has a shot to shoot."

"you sure?" he asked, glancing at you as he pulled into the parking lot.

"completely sure," you affirmed, smiling at him again.

"alright then. come on, i'm dead tired," he said, hopping out of the truck and coming to your side, helping you out before you both entered the house.

the next several weeks were filled with tricky situations where you both struggled to maintain your false identities. between getting paired up to dogfight maverick (the man he and coyote had thrown out of the hard deck a few nights before), you getting paired with rooster, and a particularly inspiring game of dogfight football, you feared that some of your teammates were onto you.

"why are you looking at him like that?"

your eyes snapped to phoenix, brows up in surprise. "who?"

"hangman," she told you, nodding towards where he was wrestling around with coyote on the shore. "why are you watching him?"

"i'm not," you told her.

but, you knew you were wrong and you knew you'd been caught. but, how could you help it? he was out there in the sun, water glistening on his abs as he ran around, his perfectly tanned skin just screaming for you to touch it and you couldn't. and you couldn't kiss him or talk to him even semi-normally either. so instead, you watched him. a lot.

"sure you're not," she said, nodding with a grin on her lips.

"i'm not watching him!" you objected.

"yes you are!" she laughed. "don't deny it."

"why are you watching rooster?" you asked in response.

"i'm not, and i'm not lying about it," she replied with a smug smile. she glanced at the mustached man in question before returning her gaze to you. "though, i'm pretty sure his eyes haven't left you this whole time."

"that's bull."

"it's not."

"sure is."

"he likes you, i think," she told you, leaning back onto the beach towel you were sharing with a smirk. "how do you feel about that?"

you turned your eyes to where he was hanging around with bob and payback, football in hand before he chucked it to fanboy. you then looked at jake who'd just managed to knock javi into the water. he laughed loudly, running a hand through his wet, messy hair.

you sighed. "not great at all."

"hey bronco!" your attention snapped to your fiance, a slow smile making its way onto your lips. he grinned at you. "come play!"

"i'm good right here, thank you!" you called back. phoenix gave you an unimpressed look.

"you know he's not taking no for an answer right?" she asked. you watched as jake approached you quickly, praying that he wouldn't do what you knew him to.

"well, what's he gonna do, come and- shit!"

you were thrown over his shoulder in a quick pull, the man quickly making his way to the shore and chucking you into the ocean. you stood as quick as you could, the chill of the water seeping into your skin as you gasped for breath.

you looked at him with wide eyes. "i'm gonna kill you, seresin!"

he only grinned at you, tilting his head to the side. "game on, l/n."

just as you went to splash him, he was tackled into the sea. you laughed loudly when none other than bradley bradshaw rose from the water, a grin on his lips and water dripping from him hair. when jake sat up, rooster only pushed his head back under, grinning at you.

"problem solved," he told you as jake stood, a glare in his eyes.

"thanks brad," you laughed.

"of course sweetheart," he said, grinning at you widely. "do you wanna-?"

your eyes widened as another laugh left your lips. "watch out-!"

he was tackled back into the water and suddenly there was an all-out brawl. coyote exchanged a grin with fanboy and payback and they quickly jumped into it, water and limbs flying all over the place. with a chuckle, bob offered you a hand and carefully guided you away from the mess of it all.

"thanks bob," you said with a giggle as you watched him get dragged in by jake, the man shooting you a wink as you walked backwards towards phoenix. you rolled your eyes, still smiling when you collapsed next to her again.

she didn't seem impressed, eyebrows raised and lips pursed as she attempted to not smile. "really?"

"what can i say?" you breathed out, grabbing your beer bottle next to you to take a swig. "i can't control it."

you were put in the air with rooster three separate times, two of which were solo where coyote wasn't instructing you from behind.

all of them ended in disaster.

"we gotta get him, bronco!" he said over comms and you could almost feel his eyes on you as you soared through the air, frantically looking for your teacher on the navigation system in front of you. you spotted him.

"watch my back, alright?"

"what?"

"follow him!"

you dropped low, completely out of rooster's vision. you managed to get behind maverick, following him closely as he began pulling his usual moves to evade your attempts. he dipped right and you followed. left and you were on his tail.

"cut him off!" you yelled to rooster.

"i can't, he's going too fast!"

"go faster!"

you were jetting through the air faster than you were used to dogfighting and without rooster moving to intercept, you didn't know if you could get an adequate lock.

"rooster, i need you!"

mav pulled up and you lost sight, dipping down and flipping around to search for him again. but he was behind you.

"breaking left!"

you grunted as you broke left, then straight up, hoping the sun would throw him off.

"rooster, do something!"

"i'm gonna try to come up behind him!"

you pulled a move you'd never tried - mostly because it was risky. insanely risky. especially during a hands-on dogfight training.

the cobra.

you floated backwards, mav zipping under you in surprise. you dropped lower, your weapons system beeping as you tried to lock on him.

"rooster, where the hell are you?!"

"i'm comin'."

maverick broke right and you followed, hoping desperately that rooster was flying around somewhere trying to get a lock on him so you could go get a drink of water.

you shrieked when maverick turned sharply and dropped, nearly skimming your wing before he ended up behind you.

"breaking right!" you cried, but everyone heard the steep beeping that caused you to slow down your efforts.

"that's tone," maverick said.

he left you to find rooster and the two messed around for a while, rooster getting increasingly frustrated until maverick finally killed him.

when you returned to base, you were livid.

you climbed out of your jet, ripping off your helmet with a grunt as you made your way down the tarmac and back to the break room where everyone was listening to the battles. harvard, yale, and halo were up next, but you didn't give two shits to know how they did. you wanted redemption.

"i want up!" you yelled, marching towards where maverick had begun sipping on a bottle of water.

"bronco!"

your steps hastened in pace, your eyes on your instructor as he watched you curiously.

"give me phoenix or hangman, i want back up!"

"bronco!"

a hand on your shoulder had you spinning around, something bradley was surprised to see you were all too prepared for. he shrunk at the glare in your eyes and flinched when your fist connected with his arm.

"what the fuck was that?" you cried. "where the hell were you?"

"look, bronco, i'm sorry-"

"no, rooster! you're not. if you were sorry you would've covered my back and we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. what got into you?!" your volume hadn't dropped and his eyes were still wide.

"i don't know. i just... he got into my head and-"

"don't blame this on maverick because you know damn well it wasn't his fault what happened out there," you said with a scowl. "we're trained to stay out of our heads. the enemy tries to throw us off, live missions, live bogies, they all try to throw us off! this isn't on mav, this is on you, bradshaw."

he flinched at the use of his surname.

"you've never done this to me before! what changed in the last few years i've been gone? i don't understand why-"

"look, y/n i'm sorry. it won't happen again-"

"you're damn right it won't," you said. your brows came unknitted and your breathing slowed, the tension in your shoulders releasing as you peered up at your wingman, a breathy, sarcastic laugh slipping passed your lips. "one hell of a wingman you are, rooster. you gave me no support up there. none!"

you brushed passed him, but he caught your wrist.

"i'm sorry," he tried again, sounding sincere in his words but you didn't have the mind to care.

"this is the third time, rooster. the third!" you pulled away from him with a frown. "imagine if we were in the air for real. you can't do this. you can't leave me hanging."

as you stepped away more, you raised your brows at him.

"and they call jake 'hangman'?"

you stalked off without another word, heading straight for the locker rooms.

jake caught your arm on your way in, glancing around quickly to see if anyone was around. "darlin'? what's wrong?"

"bad run," you breathed out, a glare still etched in your brows and eyes.

"with bradshaw?" he seemed genuinely shocked, which was exactly how you felt the first two times. now you were just pissed.

"yep," you said, popping the 'p'. "now if you'll excuse me, i need a shower."

"if you wait 'til we're home, i'd be happy to join ya," he teased, leaning closer to you.

"no thanks, seresin," you said. "i'll see you later."

"hey," he said, pulling you back so you faced him again. he looked at you intently, a small smile on his lips. "i love you."

you sighed, letting a tiny smile of your own through. "i love you too. i'll see you later."

out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that coyote had entered the hangar, and it seemed jake noticed too. after shooting him a quick, apologetic look, you pulled your arm from his grasp.

"just go away, hangman!"

and with that, you left to finally cool off and take a break.

when you were put up with jake the next day, you were extremely relieved. on your way out of the hangar, you high-fived him with a laugh, not looking to where bradley was watching you closely.

"watch and learn, bradshaw," jake taunted, smirking at the man before jogging up next to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders, to which you shrugged him off.

rooster wasn't pleased and phoenix could tell.

"what's your deal?" she asked, coming up next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. she followed his train of vision and smirked when she spotted you and jake. "ah, upset that she got paired up with bagman instead of you? just watch, it'll end up the same way every training ends with him - in disaster."

"i hope so," rooster breathed.

except it didn't.

when you landed back on the ground, the whole dagger squad saw exactly why you and him had been placed on so many missions together.

you'd flown perfectly, complimenting each other's flying style and managing to pin maverick to the hard deck. with jake trying to catch him from behind, your teacher had completely no time to process your strike coming in from the side and had lost for the first time since you'd arrived back at top gun.

"ladies and gentleman, that's how it's done," jake said over the comms, very much knowing that the rest of your squad was listening in on your conversation.

"fuck yeah!" coyote cheered as you let out a whoop.

"headin' home, prep the casket," jake said and you laughed.

"alright, alright," maverick said, but you could hear the slight smile in his voice. "good job. head back to base."

rooster felt like shit. how had he not been able to fly like that with you?

you laughed as you fistbumped jake and javi, walking back to where the rest of the crew was waiting for you.

"that was some flying, guys," payback told the lot of you, fanboy high-fiving coyote next to you.

"thanks," you said with a smile.

"how'd you do it?" bob asked.

your eyes flashed to rooster momentarily. "we had each others' backs."

you walked off then, calling something over your shoulder about needing some food as you did so.

"it was all me," jake said, purposefully loud so you'd hear. he watched you as you flipped him off above your head. "it was!"

"was not, douche-tard!"

"and we're back," phoenix breathed with a slight laugh. "good flying though. seriously."

"well thank you, phoenix," jake said with a slight bow. "i do my best."

phoenix was an inquisitive lady, you discovered when she approached you after training that day.

"why does he only work with you?"

"what?" you asked, pulling your shirt over your head and furrowing your brows.

"hangman leaves everyone hanging - everyone but you," she pointed out. "why is that?"

"we work well together," you shrugged. "the only time i can stand him is when we're in the air. surprisingly enough, he's been the best wingman i've had over the past three deployments."

"he's never left you?"

"just once. i chewed him out for it after, made him swear he'd never do it again. i guess he gained some respect for me or something because he didn't." you shut your locker, throwing your bag over your shoulder with a thin smile and a shrug. "i dunno, nat."

"well, you can keep him. i much prefer rooster," she told you, following you as you headed out of the woman's locker room.

"you can keep him," you answered with a short laugh. "he's too slow for me."

"aw, you don't mean that, do you y/n?" phoenix laughed. "aren't you guys supposed to be best friends?"

"sure," you shrugged. "he still says we are?"

"yep," she answered. she looked at you quizzically. "do you not think so?"

"haven't seen him in years," you told her truthfully. "if i'm being completely honest, i think i'm closer to hangman than i am to rooster." her wide eyes and furrowed brows made you stumble, backtracking quickly. "not that i like him any better. he's still a douchebag." she didn't look convinced. "and rooster is... well, he's rooster."

"is that a good thing?" she laughed.

"i think so," you nodded. "he's a good guy."

"so, him liking you-" you shot her a look. "potentially liking you... you wouldn't mind?"

"he's a great guy, nix. he's just... not for me," you relented.

"oh, what and hangman is?" she asked with raised brows.

"no! he's a jerk to me. i'm not lookin' for a guy right now, okay? okay." you were done with this conversation, and luckily too, for both of the men you were just discussing rounded the corner, a heated conversation on their tongues.

their faces fell when they spotted you, phoenix smirking.

"hello boys," she mused.

"hey phoenix," rooster said. "bronco."

"rooster," you nodded. "hangman. what are you fellas up to?"

"nothing," rooster replied quickly. he looked like he was about to continue, but jake decided this was where he needed to butt in.

"currently we're just admiring your beauty, bronco," he said with a smirk. "i like the casual look a lot better than your uniform. your jeans fit you well."

he didn't shy away from looking you up and down, his smirk turning hungry as he eyed you. you wanted to smile and kiss him and go home and make some dinner, but you had this stupid appearance to keep up. so instead, you rolled your eyes.

"you're a prude, seresin," you told him. you grabbed phoenix's wrist, beginning to slip passed the men. "see you tomorrow gentlemen."

whenever you arrived at home, sometimes nearly an hour after jake did and only on days where you could explain away to phoenix why you weren't in your own apartment, jake was there waiting for you.

with a grin on his lips and his arms opened wide, he would hug you so tight you could barely breathe and then kiss you until all your remaining breath was gone.

"jake," you laughed, trying to pull away, but he continued, holding your face in his hands to keep you close to him. "jake!"

you pulled away enough for you to stumble backwards into the kitchen, turning around to search the fridge for something to throw together for tonight's dinner.

he was behind you in a second, arms wrapped around your middle and chin on your shoulder.

"i think i've got some rotinni, we could do mostaccioli," you said.

"that sounds good," he mumbled into your hair.

"then i'll get started on it-"

a knock at the door had you both standing straight. jake looked at the door with furrowed brows, hands still ghosting on your hips. the knock repeated itself and you quickly broke apart.

"shit," he muttered and you quickly fled into the bedroom. once the door was closed and you were sat on the bed, you heard jake open the door.

you couldn't hear exactly what he was saying or who he was talking to, but the more you tuned your ear, the more you wondered if it was coyote. you assumed it was by the relaxed way that jake was speaking.

you waited patiently for him to resolve the conversation and return to you.

soon enough he did, opening the door and collapsing on top of you with a sigh. you ran a hand through his hair, kissing the side of his head.

"who was it?" you asked.

"rooster."

"rooster?"

"yeah, the shit's been turning up everywhere."

"why?"

"he was askin' about you," he told you. you furrowed your brows.

"what about me?"

"if anything had happened on our deployments. that you seemed different."

"and he thought 7 o'clock on a thursday night was the proper time for this conversation?"

"i think he's still pissed about how y'all flew together. seems more mad at himself than anything. can't say i wasn't thrilled to be able to shut him up today though."

"well, what'd you tell him?"

"that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. time changes people as much as he wants to think everything is supposed to revolve around him and everyone's supposed to be how he wants them to."

"you can't say that jake, that's mean."

"i didn't," he sighed, burrowing his head into your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the soft skin there. "i just said that time goes on, people change. and that it's none of his business."

you let out a tired, but slightly amused breath. "there's the jake i know."

[babiesdreams]

Advent Calendar

Day 10 : Jaemin- Jeno. +18

Content Warning: Very kinky. A lot of degradation and humilliation. Praise kink. Slave-like treatment. Possesive. Threeome. Sub reader.

Your arms start shaking, begging for you to release them from the pain the weights are causing. You're crouching, with your legs open, completely naked and dripping wet. "It hurts" You moan out, seeking compassion, thought all you receive is a slap. "It's called a punishment for a reason darling" Jeno's voice was so deep that it melted you eardrums.

"You better say sorry bitch" Jaemin's voice was more calmed, still demanding, but calm. His finngertips were fixing your hair softly. "I-I'm sorry" You mumble. "What are you sorry about?" Jeno asks lifting your chin with his fingers. "About cumming without permission" Another slap crosses your face. "I told you, you have to call me Sir" You whine softly out of pain, though it feels somewhat rewarding and even exciting.

"I'm sorry Sir, I'm sorry I came without your permission" The weight dissapears when his arms lift the trays of your hands. You don't move an inch, scared that the lack of permission could mean another punishment. "You can rest" He orders and you instantly fall to the ground. There was no way for you to actually know how much time you were in that position, but it was definetely way too long.

As you fall, Jaemin's arms cover you in a sweet hug. Although his actions were always soft and sweet, his words were rough and degrading. It was a perfect balance between humiliation and praise, which had always driven you crazy. "I'm sure you've learnt your lesson, whore" You nod, head against his chest. "Speak" He orders, running his fingertips along your back.

"I've learnt my lesson Si- Master" You instantly regret speaking, your face buries itself deeper on Jaemin's chest. He chuckles. "I'll let it slide, since it's your first time being used by another dom" His voice is sweet and slow, it's followed by tender kisses on your neck. "Just remember you're mine" He whispers on your ear, the hot air sending shivers across your spine.

While you're busy nodding in agreement you feel a firm grip on your wrist, pulling you off the warm hug, right onto the cold floor. Jeno lifts your face by pulling your hair. Your eyes lock on his length, which had grown significantly since the punishment started. "It's okay to be afraid at first" He starts speaking, your eyes travel upwards, until they reach his face, decorated by a growing smirk. "With a new dom, that brings new kinks, and definetely new experiences. And, besides your punishment, you're doing exceptionally great darling"

You feel your cheeks burst with heat which, you are sure, is accompanied by a redish color. "And you must be grateful for my words, since I rarely praise my pets" You smile softly at him. "Thank you Sir" His right hand keeps grabbing your hair while the left one caress your blushed cheek. "Now be a good slut and suck on Sir's cock" He orders, although his hand had already moved your head towards his hardness.

His hand guides your moves up and down his length. Jaemin's caress your hot body, trying to broadcast your mind with mute praises. Jeno's hand get rougher with every thrust, he notices you gag when his tip enters your throat and now everytime that happens, he keeps you holding that position for torturous seconds.

When his length leaves your mouth it feels so suddenly empty that it keeps you wondering where it'd go next. "Since you've been nice tonight" His deep voice starts speaking in the distance. "I'll let you decide how you want to fully satisfy your Master and me" You gulp, there's a sudden feeling of pressure invading your whole body. "No need to panic. Your words will be taken as a mere suggestion" He assures you, combing your hair with his digits.

"I want you both in" He tilts his head. "How?" Your eyes wander, not being able to hold his intimidating look. "Both in my pussy" He nods while his hand restrains your chin, forcing you to look to him. You notice almost instantly Jaemin's fingers entering your hole. It feels definetely slippery, dripping even. There's no real need on preparing your pussy for his length, so it was brief.

When his hardness enters you, your walls hug it, contracting under his every move. You were sat on to of him so your body started to move freely. "Look at you" Jeno spits out, ees locked on yours. "You're so needy that you can't control yourself" You slowed down, ow aware of your actions. "Such a nice whore" The whispered praise sets you off again, hips moving faster.

Jeno slowly sits down on the floor just in front of you. His hand caress your face, then goes down your neck, where he stops to choke you briefly, then down to your breasts. He plays with your nipples ever so slowly. "What a dirty pet" He whispers against your neck. His length pressing over your entrance. When he's fully in you stop, letting your walls adapt to the wider shape.

You can clearly feel both of his dicks throbbing inside of you, touching and provocking each other. "Move pet. Or you'll be punished again" Jeno's advice forces you to slowly move your hips forward, closer to him and then backwards, closer to Jaemin. You pick up the pace pretty fastly, since the pleasure it causes drives your body into an automatic state you were unknown to ever had possesed.

The friction quickly takes his part on setting you off. Your orgasm is waiting to be released, you wouldn't commit the same crime twice on the same night. "Can I cum?" You ask, moaning desperately. Jeno's fingers recollect the sweat bathing your skin. "You may cum slut" He replies, and it's an instant reaction, your body shakes and slowly you calm down, staying still.

"I didn't say you could stop" He says, demanding and your body continues its actions slowly. It is so slow, due to the overstimulation that Jeno loses his patience and pushes you towards Jaemin, both of you lay down on the floor, while he thrsts in and out your pussy. Jaemin clearly suffers from this, since his dick get worked up. He cums shortly after, tho he doesn't pull out. A second wave brushes over your body when you feel the hot cum getting spreadinside of you and dripping down your folds.

Jeno cums almost at the same time as you do, leaving a nice creampie inside of you.

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

Hii, I wanted to inform you all that I'll be testing a new format with the advent calendar fics, so if you leave a comment, I'll reply portraying the characters of the fic. If you want someone specific to answer you write his name, if you don't I'll choose for you. Have a nice day and comment if you want to test this <3

Advent calendar masterlist

Masterlist

[simplydnp]

hey there!

I kind of consider you the resident dnp expert (at least in dnp culture) so I wanted your opinion on a question that's been building for a while now.

What are the boundaries for dnp now?

There are so many things that I feel have changed even in the last four years: writing smutty rpf was Gross and Weird, along with art along that line, speculating about their relationship was ABSOLUTELY a no-go, all things that I see happening on Tumblr now. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!! I'm just acknowledging things have changed over time. They're different people now and so are we, and the "we know you know" era is lots of fun.

I was browsing reddit today (bad idea, do not recommend) and came across a post from a new Phannie asking if DnP were in a relationship. And while I agree that we cannot say for absolute certain that they are, the responses had a VERY different vibe than on here, emphasizing how bad the speculation was (true) and essentially saying "don't even think about that, just enjoy their content." (or something to that extent.)

Which... is very different from this here website in which we joke about them being horney for each other constantly lmao.

Being a very rules-driven person, I like expectations to be made abundantly clear for pretty much everything. So that's why I want to ask: Is there a line here? Are we crossing that line? How defined is that line? (All of this, of course, I recognize is your opinion and yours alone, and if this is posted I encourage anyone else to share their two-cents in a respectful way.)

Obviously, trying to find out where they live/things like that is very clearly crossing a boundary. But is there some sort of limit or boundary I (and tbh the rest of the phandom), in your opinion, should be keeping in mind?

thanks xx

hi!

'resident expert' is a hefty title, i'm just here trying my best!

'what are the boundaries for dnp now?' is really a great question. cause the thing is, we used to know. there used to be a fairly well-defined and mostly agreed upon line, and ever since the dapg revival in particular, the line keeps moving.

i'll be honest, i never really saw phanfic as rpf, even though it is. my stance on phanfic is the same as dnps: it's a beautiful expression of art and creativity and is so, so important. they've always been pro-fic (even though we subjected them to some absolutely horrific crack fics), so i don't think 'smutty' fic has ever been gross or too far. they've given their blessing, and, as the conversation has been in fandom communities the last few years, rpf isn't 'for' the people in them, it's for the fans. so i digress.

art is much the same way. they love art! they even included art of them kissing in a tumblr tag video back in the day, so to say that's not allowed especially after they're out is kind of crazy to me.

i think the line with stuff like that was showing it directly to dnp--tagging them in explicit stuff, that kind of thing. but creating it? go for it! it's always been a green light. (i think fans have previously overpoliced this and we lost a lot of great fic, art, and community members over it)

browsing reddit is always a Choice. i've never participated on dnp reddit before but i am aware that it is an entirely different space than here. something that's important, i think (and i think you think this too as you're asking about them), is to respect the fandom rules of the place you partcipate in. tumblr is generally one of the most phan-positive places on the internet, especially publicly facing. we make a lot of relationship jokes, particularly because we run on the assumption it's already true, based on what they've both said publicly (mostly dan).

i won't comment on reddit specifically just because i'm not a part of the community there, but the speculation about dnp online was a Lot for a long time. but the worst part of it was the stalking, the digging into personal lives, the contacting family members--that is what was bad. dnp have always had a connection--and, honestly, they kind of love flexing it and kind of always have. they absolutely play into things now, but they certainly did even way before coming out too. i think a certain level of speculation was to be expected, especially in that era of online fandom. but it wasn't just the 'teenage girls' who cared, the media did too, and so did many others.

i think one of the biggest differences now is 1 the awareness of 'our' past and trying to make up for it, and 2 the broader societal conversations about parasocial relationships.

you see this reflected on the snippets ive seen from dnp reddit and dnp twitter. they tend to be Very 'cautious' about the words they say, often undercutting perfectly reasonable statements with 'but whatever their relationship is'. on one hand, they don't want to cross a line, and i can respect that. on the other hand... it's 2024 babes. they just put out merch of them holding hands. dan's directly, intentionally, and explicitly called phil a bottom on dapg. they reacted to all of the pinofs, made jokes about 'theyre touching', and even joked about the tackle being 'wrestling 👀'. dan posted half-naked catboy pics and showed us phil was taking them. the 'watch your step babygirl' tweet & their reactions to it. phil is credited in WAD. they're making threesome jokes about themselves as a unit. i could go on and on.

to me, there's a few things that have 'moved the line' for us, so to speak.

1 - DAPG returning. for the last few years they specifically were not a duo (for projects) anymore. (and no, not because they hated each other). they just weren't. they wanted to focus on their goals and projects. they didn't have to resurrect dapg, but they chose to. marketing and money aside, they knew that if this went over well, it would well and truly revive the 'dan and phil' brand again. it would be specifically returning to being a duo in the public eye. (however they've also fully embraced this in all aspects, including merch, videos, and general attitude)

2 - pinof reacts. even though they'd been out since 2019, we hadn't had regular joint content from them since before that, therefore, while they had become more comfortable with themselves and their 'outness', we hadn't (in terms of them making explicit gay jokes together). so i really think dnp had to de-fang a lot of the 'theyre touching' of it all, because we didn't really know where we stood on it anymore. i think they succeeded, too. we couldn't be here, with the content of the last 3 months, without them tackling it head on (well, as head on as they're want to do).

3 - dapc. genuinely another big shift. they did this for the real fans. purely a passion project, and a specific choice in doing the handhold. they know what we're like. and this wasn't a brief, unplanned, unscripted moment. it's a specifically blocked out scene. they know it's opening a door, and they chose to. this is doubled by the fucking iconic merch selling, and furthered by phil's twitter likes of arguably romantic phanart, and then dan's full straddle like.

even throughout the current 6 months of revival, the line has moved. i don't know where it will settle. dnp keep moving it, in my opinion, and, genuinely, i don't think it's going to leave much to the imagination. as you say, obviously not the stalking or the contacting, but beyond that? especially here on tumblr? i wouldn't get too worried. obviously people will have their opinions, but as long as you're generally respectful and recognize that humans will see your posts and humans interact with them, i think you're good.

my rule of thumb is anything they intentionally put on the table, we can joke about or at the same level. but in terms of art/fic? go off, live your dreams. dan and phil would want you to.

[crescentofthegods]

stars around my scars

pairing: harry potter x hufflepuff!fem!reader

request: hii!! can i request a harry x fem!hufflepuff reader where she's really self conscious over her body bc she has a slightly round body with a stomach dip, and she constantly feels like she's not enough and compares herself to her friends. harry notices it and comforts her one day, she has a crush on harry but she thinks he will never like her back, but that day changed everything for both of them?? ~ anon

word count: 4,349 words (?)

warnings: FLUFF, a little angsty, harry has a history of self-harm in this fic!!, lack of self-love, insecurities, not proofread, please let me know if i've forgotten anything!

author's note: this feels so rushed so im really sorry😭 but i read a hc the other day that harry suffered through self-harm during fifth year because he had survivor's guilt/PTSD from cedric's death SO I JUST SOBBED AT THAT and decided to implement it into this imagine. if this topic is a trigger, im really sorry in advance. i do not describe the scars, harry just explains why he did it &lt;3 also this hasn't been properly edited I'LL FIX IT LATER. the draco malfoy requests in my inbox will be answered soon!

masterlist | navigation

“COME ON, [Y/N], you’ll be late!” Hannah Abbott exclaimed, grabbing her bag as you waved her off, the blonde girl exiting the dorm and closing the door behind her.

You ran your hands through your hair, looking down at your half-naked body as you sighed in frustration, staring at your stomach, your belly fat slightly spilling out of your skirt. Glimpsing at the full-length mirror by Hannah’s bed, your figure went rigid as your expression crumpled.

Every morning after Hannah left, you always found yourself staring at the mirror in your room, pointing out your flaws and imperfections. Broad shoulders, an undefined waist, thick thighs—you could never win. And, unsurprisingly, you couldn’t help but compare your friends’ bodies with yours. They were slim, pretty, and had curves in all the right places.

You had curves in all the wrong places.

You gulped down any emotion that rose in your throat, snatching your shirt off your bed as you buttoned it up quickly, loosely tying your Hufflepuff tie around your collar. You wore the rest of your uniform, adjusting it so your belly wasn’t on display through your robes. You checked your appearance, turning to see your back in the mirror. You bit your bottom lip, rubbing your eyes before wearing your Doc Martens, taking your back as you walked out of your dorm with discomfort.

Exiting Hufflepuff House, you saw many people still in the hallways as your legs slowed, feeling self-conscious, ultimately holding on to your bag strap before you continued your journey. You shoved your other hand in your pocket, hearing numerous conversations throughout the hallway. You gathered that none of them were about you, but your overthinking had already driven your mind crazy as you kept to yourself, hurrying to Potions to greet your new Professor, Horace Slughorn.

You stood next to Hannah at the back of the classroom, trying to listen to Slughorn’s lecture as he displayed the numerous potions before you. However, you set your mind in overdrive once you glanced at Hannah’s side profile, staring at your Potions textbook as you pressed your lips together.

Hannah didn’t have chubby cheeks like you, nor did she have your notorious stomach dip—which you hid with your robes. Hannah (her smile, curves, hair, body) was beautiful. Again, you knew you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to your friends, who were always kind to you, but you couldn’t control your thoughts. One would say they were an unstoppable force of nature.

But there was only one person who could pull you out of them.

“Sorry, sir, I haven’t got my book yet. Nor has Ron,” the voice stated, causing you to look up, straightening your posture as Slughorn mentioned the two Gryffindors could look through the cupboards.

The two Gryffindors consisted of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. You knew them both, but Harry was the one you had eyes for.

Shamefully, you kept your eyes on Harry, hugging your Advanced Potions textbook tighter as your lips curled up at him and Ron fighting over something, Ron seeming to win as the brunette boy rolled his eyes, walking to the back of the classroom. You kept your gaze down as you did so, pressing your lips together again.

But you didn’t realise that Harry had stood next to you.

Here is a brief history of you and the supposed Chosen One. You have had a massive crush on Harry since third year after he asked you for help with his Charms homework. You complied, thinking he would forget about your existence the next day. That was what you were used to whenever a boy spoke to you, so if he did, you wouldn’t care.

But Harry didn’t forget about you.

“Hey, stranger,” he whispered as you glanced at him, a gorgeous smile on his face as you smiled back, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. Harry, who stood at 6’0”, towered over you as he spoke, “I haven’t spoken to you in ages.”

“You saw me on the train last night,” you murmured sheepishly. You couldn’t help but stare into his ethereal, evergreen eyes, feeling lost as you held onto reality.

“I did, but I couldn’t speak to you,” he countered, his friendly smile still lingering, “So I’m saying hello now.” You nodded, your cheeks warming as you chuckled.

“Ah, okay. Well, hello, Harry. How has your morning been?” you replied, greeting him correctly as he laughed softly.

“Utterly fantastic,” he muttered, looking at you intently. “And what about you, [Y/N]?”

Merlin, the way he says my name, you thought, smiling as you cursed yourself for thinking such things.

“Utterly fantastic,” you repeated as he nodded, the both of you falling into a comfortable silence. He was the first to look away, opening his textbook as he tuned into Hermione Granger’s explanation of Amortentia.

Despite him, you took longer to examine his features, watching his forehead crease as Hermione talked about the potion’s smell. You smiled subtly, pulling your eyes away as you looked down, squealing internally.

However, your friend, Hannah, turned towards Harry, her lips curling as she opened her mouth. “Hey, Harry. I thought you weren’t taking Potions?” Hannah asked, her voice soft as you looked at her. You glanced at Harry, noting his eyes were already on her as you deflated slightly.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Professor McGonagall insisted,” he shrugged, a polite smile on his face. His eyes momentarily lingered before he turned to Slughorn, taking in his words. Hannah leaned down, giggling into your ear.

“He looks extra delicious this year,” she commented as you nodded. Once she pulled away, you looked at your shoes, sighing softly as your mood dampened. You didn’t know why it had suddenly soured, but anyone could gather that you had become insecure because of your roommate. Once again, it was petty of you to think such things, but you couldn’t help it. When your eyes took a brief picture of the room, it was notable that many girls had/used to have eyes on Harry—Romilda Vane, Cho Chang, Parvati Patil, and others throughout the year.

They were all stunning.

What words could describe you?

As you unintentionally kept your head down for the rest of the lesson, your throat becoming raw as you gulped, Harry furrowed his eyebrows at your saddened mood, wanting to ask what had happened. But he couldn’t—Professor Slughorn had already set the task. And before he could ask you to sit at the same table as him, you’d already walked off to your friend Leanne, who waved you over in the first place.

Even though you didn’t notice, Harry’s eyes followed your every move as you smiled at Leanne. Anyone could easily say that you’re fine just by seeing the grin on your face.

Albeit, Harry had observed that your eyes didn’t smile like your lips.

He began to frown once he saw, wanting to pull you back, but he knew that would raise questions among his friends and be slightly inappropriate. You and Harry knew each other well but not sufficiently for hand-holding. He couldn’t have you being uncomfortable.

So, he pocketed his thoughts for later.

For some unknown reason, you always found the Black Lake your safe space whenever you walked on the Hogwarts grounds. In all honesty, it was a calming oasis of sorts, entirely different to the everyday commotion surrounding the wondrous castle.

As you hummed to yourself, attracting a crossbill (a breed of bird) in the process, you took out your journal, writing down a few things you learned today as active recall.

The Draught of Living Death is impossible to make. But, the way of getting the juice of a Sopophorous bean was to crush the ingredient with a blade. I shouldn’t cut it.

The wand movement for the Aguamenti Charm was a smooth wave movement from right to left.

Harry James Potter was the definition of sarcasm.

Your quill almost stabbed the pages of your diary as you snapped out of your daze, wondering what in Merlin’s name you were writing. You leaned your head against the oak, your memory flitting to Harry and Professor Snape’s little interaction earlier today.

Today’s DADA lesson included the practice of non-verbal spells. In other words, this sort of magic was unsurprisingly complex—you could’ve sworn your brain nearly ripped apart when you attempted to disarm your friend, Cho Chang, today. Truth be told, you were never good at this subject. Professor Lupin was much more friendly in your case, and you’d improved massively during third year. Nonetheless, after he resigned, your grade dropped quite a few marks.

During DADA, when Ron and Harry attempted to disarm each other non-verbally, Snape interfered, telling Ron he was doing it all wrong. And to Harry’s dismay, Snape’s stance was a little aggressive to him.

So he used a Shield Charm.

Of course, Snape wasn’t happy.

“Do you remember me telling you we are practising non-verbal spells, Potter?”

“Yes,” said Harry stiffly.

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir’, Professor.”

You’d fought hard, trying not to laugh out loud during that moment. Thankfully, Snape didn’t catch your strange-looking expression.

You crossed out your third note in your journal, mumbling to yourself as you wondered why you would write such a thing. It wasn’t a rude thing—Harry was known for his sarcastic comments. Indeed, Harry took pride in his sarcasm.

So if Harry ever saw the comment you made, he’d take it as a compliment.

Still, you crossed it out.

“What are you writing?” A voice interrupted your movements as you looked up, your eyebrows raising when you saw Harry standing before you. You closed your journal, smiling, when you spotted the little smirk across his lips.

“Nothing. Just some notes from today,” you shrugged, putting your journal aside. Shoving your shyness away, you patted the spot beside you, welcoming Harry to sit down.

And he did.

“Hannah said you’d be here,” Harry said as you faced him. “She said you come here every other day.” You smiled as you glanced at the lake, stretching your legs.

“I like watching the lake from this angle,” you replied, “I don’t see much stuff in the water since every creature hides away, but the scenery is…” You paused, trying to find the right word. “Picturesque.”

“That’s a big word,” Harry joked, his lips grinning as you laughed softly.

“Well, you know me and my words,” you retorted, watching the water ripple before your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, facing Harry again as you tilted your head. “Why’d you come down here? Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you about something.” Your lips parted in bewilderment, hugging your knees as you nodded slowly. As I narrated earlier, you and Harry were friends but not close. Though, Merlin only knew how much you wanted to know Harry better.

“What is it?” you asked softly. Harry hesitated, pressing his lips together as he glanced at the water.

“I noticed your mood in Potions earlier,” he began, confusing you.

“My mood?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah—I mean, you were happy and then… I dunno, you just became sad,” Harry responded, turning to look at you as he examined your features. Harry always knew you were pretty. Beautiful, even, now that he’s looking at you up close. Your persona only made you glow, making you everyone’s sun in their skies. It had him wondering why no one had realised that about you yet.

Were people truly so blind these days?

“Oh!” You didn’t know what to say. Firstly, the fact that Harry noticed your slight mood change was astounding. Hannah was your closest friend at the moment, and although she knew you better than most people, she hadn’t once pointed out your mood whenever it soured.

Hannah wasn’t your best friend. She had her friend group, and you were merely her roommate. You had friends, of course, but not a friend. No one truly cared about your feelings.

But, looking at Harry, it seemed he cared about yours.

“It was nothing,” you replied, giving a reassuring smile. “I just get like that sometimes. For example, I could get assigned extra homework for History of Magic. That makes me annoyed, and it looks like my face visibly shows that,” you rambled, giving a nervous chuckle before glimpsing at the lake again.

“You weren’t annoyed, [Y/N],” Harry corrected, frowning. “You were sad.” You pressed your lips together, looking down at your lap. Your hands landed on your thighs, your Doc Martens knocking against each other as you shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, standing up with your journal. You were about to walk away when Harry stopped you, seizing your hand abruptly and spinning you around. You glanced at his grip on your wrist, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologised, letting go of your hand. Your cheeks flushed considerably, and you prayed it wasn’t noticeable. “Look at me,” he pleaded, his tone gentle, glimpsing through his lenses as you sighed inwardly, looking up.

“Harry, I’m fine. It seriously doesn’t matter—”

“Why do you say things like that?” he interjected, his expression containing frustration as you became perplexed.

“Because it doesn’t matter? I—”

“But it does!” His exclamation had a hint of exasperation as you exhaled through your nose, your gaze softening as you crossed your arms. You weren’t uncomfortable. You were just in a state of conflict.

“I’m just saying,” he began, smiling encouragingly. “You can talk to me. You can always speak to me. About anything.” Annoyed, you sighed, shaking your head.

“I don’t understand—Where is this coming from?” you questioned. Harry stammered on his words, his brows furrowing. “I know what you’re getting at, but you’ve never cared about me like this.” Harry faltered for a moment, looking down at the green blades of grass as his feet shuffled, his face contorting with guilt as he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice gentle as he met your eyes. You didn’t know what to say, staying rooted to your spot as he continued. Yet, you suddenly opened your mouth.

“You don’t have to apologise for that. It’s not your fault that you’re saving this bloody castle and its people every year,” you quipped, giving him a fond smile as he shook his head.

“Yeah, but you’ve been here for me,” Harry retorted, his lips pressing together as he exhaled through his nose. “When Sirius… passed away,” Harry began, looking at the clouds in the grey skies, “You immediately came to my aid. You helped me, even if you stayed quiet and stood before me while I cried.” You pursued your lips, remembering the state of depression Harry used to be in after his godfather’s death. Being the wonderful person you are, you wrote to him every day during the summer, and he always wrote back as soon as possible.

“That is different,” you said cautiously, catching Harry’s attention. “You went through something unimaginable. Every year, you suffer the most at this school. Sirius’s death, Cedric’s death, that rat’s betrayal of your parents,” you listed all of these with your fingers as he kept an attentive eye. “Of course, you needed someone. I, however, shouldn’t need someone for having an insecurity that is stupid anyhow—”

“It’s not stupid—” Harry tried to interject, but you stopped him.

“No, Harry, it is,” you sighed, glancing at the lake as its soft ripples entered your ears as if it knew that you needed some brief comfort. “Day after day, I compare myself to my friends. They don’t deserve that. They shouldn’t have to deal with my stupendous thoughts. I am a terrible friend!” You frowned, your tone exasperated as your bottom lip quivered. Meeting his gaze, you found a sense of empathy in Harry’s eyes, who had stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves to reveal something.

You widened your eyes. You almost stopped breathing.

“These are scars,” Harry embarked as you looked up, your heart squeezing. You never knew about this. Of course, he shouldn’t have to tell you as it isn’t any of your business. You bit your tongue from speaking as you silently held his hand, waiting for him to continue. “I started doing it when… Well, after Voldemort killed Cedric, I had PTSD.” He couldn’t look at you. You noticed how his fingers shook in your grasp, Harry trying to steady himself as words escaped him again.

“I felt guilty for being the one to survive. Again,” Harry scoffed, his expression stoic as his jaw clenched. “No one believed the truth when I told them, except Ron and Hermione, but also you,” he sighed, finally meeting your eyes as you softened, squeezing his hand. “I stopped when you found me in the library. You sat next to me with an expression of solace. You just—You understood me, [Y/N].” His voice was breathless. Desperate. Thankful. “I never told you, but I stopped because someone finally knew how I felt.”

“Oh, Harry,” you almost sobbed, your eyes pricking with tears as he held your hands, squeezing your palms tightly.

“You are beautiful,” Harry whispered as you gasped quietly, your lips parting once you saw the timid smile on his lips. “I’ve always found you beautiful. You’ve always been the light whenever darkness consumes the room. Your assuring smile could always make someone feel better after a stressful day. And I can tell a smile of yours is sincere when your right dimple appears a few inches away from your lips.” Harry grinned, a little chuckle easing out of his mouth as you looked down, a warm blush crossing the apples of your cheeks.

“You aren’t a terrible friend. I’ve always thought of you as one,” his words caused you to deflate slightly. “But, there are times when I’ve wanted to be more,” Harry admitted, his calloused thumb running across the back of your hand as your breath hitched at his touch, trying not to shiver as your stomach swarmed with butterflies all of a sudden. You comprehended his words, your lips curling up at his confession as he gazed at you through his circular glasses, his pupils dilating.

“I… I, um, don’t know what to say,” you chuckled, your cheeks warming once more as Harry smiled at your loss of words.

“You don’t have to say anything—”

“OI, HARRY!” A sudden voice interrupted the two of you as you snapped your head to the source, seeing Ron with an incredulous expression. Hermione stood beside the ginger, an awkward smile on her face as she waved, you waving back appreciatively.

“Uh, sorry, Harry, but you’re going to be late for Quidditch practise and Ron was getting a bit antsy,” Hermione explained, throwing you an apologetic smile as she gave Ron an irritated look.

“I wasn’t getting antsy—” Ron scoffed.

“Yes, you were, Ronald—”

“You’re antsy 24/7 so I don’t know what you’re waffling about—!”

“I should go before Hermione tries to rip Ron’s head off again,” Harry said softly, acting like his best friends’ plans to murder each other was normal. You smiled, nodding as you stepped away, reluctantly letting go of his hands.

“Of course. I’ll, um, I’ll see you later,” you responded, becoming shy as Harry nodded, giving you another grin before steering Ron away from Hermione in hopes to stop them arguing before they reached the castle.

Facing the lake, you bit your bottom lip with a knowing smile, walking back to your beloved tree as you leaned against it, closing your eyes.

Harry has feelings for me.

Harry drank his pumpkin juice, his nerves strangling his throat as he looked around the Great Hall for a particular someone. His leg bounced against the bench, Hermione noticing as she furrowed her eyebrows, calling Harry’s name.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” The brunette asked with concern. “You rarely ever get nervous when it comes to Quidditch.” He sighed, shaking his head as he surveyed the Hufflepuff table again.

“It’s different this time—”

“It’s different because he’s expecting someone to be there,” Luna Lovegood interrupted, her dreamy voice attracting their attention as she ate her pudding. “But he doesn’t see them in the Hall at this moment in time.”

“He’s looking for [Y/L/N],” Ron grinned, stuffing his mouth with bacon as Hermione sighed at his table manners. “Me and ‘Mione saw the way they looked at each other by the Black Lake. I mean, honestly, I swore I could’ve seen literal hearts palpitating in their eyes,” the ginger continued to tease as Hermione tutted at him once again.

“[Y/N]’s been to your games before,” Hermione said softly as Harry pressed his lips together.

“But this time I know she’ll be watching, Hermione. What if I fumble the Snitch—?”

“If anyone’s going to fumble the Snitch, it’s that ruddy Harper,” Ginny remarked, making a disgusted face as she glanced at the Slytherin substitute Seeker from across the room. “He’s alright, but there’s a reason he was named a substitute. Trust me, the only thing you should look out for is his foul play,” Ginny shrugged, finishing her food before standing up, Ron following suit.

“Yeah… Yeah, you guys are right,” Harry mumbled to himself, still uneasy as he reached for his goblet again, only to stop his movements when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned his head, seeing you there in a long-sleeved yellow sundress, lighting up the rainy, dull atmosphere, which also accentuated your figure perfectly.

She looks bloody gorgeous, Harry thought, his pale skin turning scarlet as he admired your beauty, noticing how you glowed today. You smiled shyly as Harry’s eyes lit up almost immediately.

“May I sit?” You asked, Harry nodding as Ginny moved out of your way, giving you a knowing smile before glaring at Ron to walk with her. Hermione quickly excused herself, as well as Luna, leaving you both to talk amongst yourselves.

“Hey,” Harry smiled, his nerves settling considerably as he smiled at you. You reciprocated, fiddling with the sleeves of your dress.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice sweet as always as you placed a small bottle before him. You noticed his expression, and quickly explained yourself. “It’s a little tonic I made. Hermione came to me earlier and voiced her concerns about you playing today. I didn’t believe her at first, I mean, I’ve never known you to be the anxious type,” you added playfully, earning another grin from him as your heart practically melted in your chest.

Hermione, forever the matchmaker, Harry thought to himself.

“You make me extremely anxious, love,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours as you tried not to blush to deeply at the nickname. Harry removed the cork from the tonic, putting it to his nose as he inhaled its contents’ scents. He smiled once more, giving you a knowing look.

“I added golden syrup,” you smiled, knowing the tonic would taste horrible without it. “You know, from the treacle tarts you really like? It’ll still work all the same,” you shrugged, trying to seem casual.

“You bloody miracle worker,” Harry sighed, drinking from the small bottle almost instantly as you laughed at his behaviour. He put the bottle down, standing up and rolling his shoulders, giving himself a nod.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he affirmed. You were about to wish him luck before he leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips as you raised your eyebrows, a little shocked. As he walked hastily backwards to the entrance of the Great Hall, he waved you off, yelling, “I’LL GIVE YOU A PROPER ONE LATER!”

You widened your eyes, smiling as you waved back, laughing to yourself as you ignored the stares being thrown in your direction.

He’s going to kiss me.

Gryffindor had won the match against Slytherin.

It was certainly a tough one with Ginny and Blaise Zabini constantly shoving each other (though, Ginny had a mutual respect for him because he was actually good), and Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff in your year, known for his extremely obnoxious behavioour, being an awful commentator, which evidently infuriated Harry beyond despair. This caused the Slytherin Seeker, Harper, to see the Snitch before Harry. However when it seemed that he was about to catch it, he was put off by Harry's desperate taunt, implying that Draco Malfoy, former Seeker for Slytherin, had paid Harper to play instead. Harper, in his distraction, fumbled the Snitch (as Ginny said prior), costing his team the game.

You waded through the roaring crowd of Gryffindor, stepping off the Quidditch stands as you looked around for Harry, desperately wanting to congratulate him. The rain had began pouring as you stood by the sides, finally seeing Harry approaching you with a blanket around him since he had flown high into the sky (Madame Hooch insisted he wore it even though he was boiling to the core).

“Harry!” you waved as he ran towards you, scooping you up into his arms as you squealed, demanding him to put you down. He laughed, wrapping his blanket around you as the rain began soaking your hair.

“I won,” he commenced, throwing you a cocky grin as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I know, you cheeky git. That’s why I wanted to congratulate you—”

Harry kissed you.

His soft lips captured yours in a searing kiss as your closed your eyes, kissing back almost immediately as his right hand held the back of your head, pushing you closer towards him. You heard the instantaneous cheers from the Gryffindor team as others joined the pitch, grinning at their captain.

“GO ON, HARRY!” Ron boomed as Harry pulled away from you, receiving a clap on the shoulder as you became flustered, parting your lips in surprise. Harry waited for your reaction, a smug smirk across his mouth as you stammered embarrassingly.

“Wow. That was… Wow.” You cleared your throat, looking down as your cheeks turned a crimson red. Harry tilted your chin up, smiling at your behaviour before kissing your forehead, his hand falling to your waist.

“Come on, sweetheart. It’s mandatory for the Gryffindor Captain and his girlfriend to be at the afterparty.”

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[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 20

Hi, my dearest readers! I'm alive. The wedding was fantastic, but I'm soo tired. I barely slept the last few days. We decorated for 13 hours on Friday. Then the wedding on Saturday and we packed up everything on Sunday. And for some reason I thought that I didn't need to take a day off on Monday, I'll be fine. Well, I thought wrong. But thank you for your patience! ❤️ Here comes the new chapter. Enjoy! :)

Accusing a wingleader of wrongdoing is the most dangerous of all accusations. If you’re right, then we’ve failed as a quadrant to select the best wingleaders. If you’re wrong, you’re dead.

—My Time as a Cadet: A Memoir by General Augustine Melgren

„Jackson Marlowe.” Captain Fitzgibbons finishes reading the death roll and closes the scroll as we stand in formation the next morning, our breath creating clouds in the chilled air. “We commend their souls to Malek.”

There’s no room for sorrow in my heart for six of the eight names, not when I’m shifting my weight to soothe the ache of black-and-blue along my ribs and ignoring the way other riders stare at my face.

I went to Nolon this morning, and he mended my nose, but I wanted to keep my bruises. One of those who attacked Violet is alive. I want them to know I will not forgive. Never.

If Xaden won’t do anything about it, then I will. I’m a Melgren after all, I’m allowed to be a little crazy.

The two others on today’s list are third-years from Second Wing, killed on a training operation near the Braevick border, according to breakfast gossip, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s where Xaden had been before coming to our rescue last night.

“I can’t believe they tried to kill you while you were sleeping.” Liam’s still seething, at breakfast we told our table what happened.

“Even worse, I think I’m getting used to it. Either I have kick-ass compartmentalization skills or I really am acclimating to always being a target.” Violet says.

Captain Fitzgibbons makes some minor announcements, and I tune him out as someone strides our way, cutting through the space between the Flame and Tail Sections of our wing.

Just like it always does, my stupid, hormone-driven heart stutters at the first sight of Xaden. Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden’s exactly that—as beautiful as he is lethal. He looks deceptively calm as he approaches, but I can feel his tension as if it’s my own, like a panther prowling toward his prey. The wind ruffles his hair, and I sigh at the completely unfair advantage he has over every man in this courtyard. He doesn’t even have to try to look sexy…he just is.

Oh shit. This feeling right here—the way my breath catches and my entire body draws tight when he’s near—is why I haven’t taken anyone to bed or celebrated like the rest of my perfectly normal friends. This feeling is why I haven’t wanted anyone…else.

Because I want him.

There aren’t enough curse words in the world for this.

He stops next to us and he looks toward Liam then nods in Violet’s direction.

Oh shit. Violet will be sooo angry when she realizes…

„I do not need a bodyguard!” she snaps at Xaden.

He ignores her, still looking at Liam.

“Switch places with me.” Liam whispers to me.

I look at him questioningly but he doesn’t say another word.

“Fine.” I sigh and now he stands behind Violet.

„I. Do. Not. Need. A. Bodyguard!” she repeats, a little louder this time.

One of the first-years behind me gasps, mortified by her audacity, no doubt.

Imogen snorts. “Good luck with that approach.”

Xaden stands directly in front of Violet, leaning into her space. “You do, though, as we both learned last night. And I can’t be everywhere you are. But Liam here”—he points back to the blond Tyr—“he’s a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I hope you get used to him, Sorrengail.”

“And what about Aelin?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. “She was with me too.”

“I don’t care about her.” Xaden replies without hesitation.

Ouch. It hurts.

Liam quickly grabs my hand and squeezes it before letting it go.

“And I don’t know if she will protect you at all costs.” Xaden continues.

“Now, that’s just a fucking excuse.” I mutter.

I will protect Violet. She’s one of the most important person in my life. And he knows it too. He’s not stupid.

“You’re overstepping.” Violet hisses at him.

“You haven’t begun to see overstepping,” he warns, his voice dropping low. “Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we’ve already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.”

Heat flushes up her neck and stains her cheeks. “He is not sleeping in my room.”

Oh, Vi. I knew it that you like Liam.

“Of course not.” He freaking smirks. “I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.” He turns on his heel and walks away, headed back to his place at the front of our formation.

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes, keeping his eyes forward.

“What? Did you move? When?” I ask Liam in shock.

“This morning. And I won’t be far. Just on the other side of Violet.” He smiles at me with a boyish grin and I can’t help it, I smile back.

“Fiinee. But I warn you, do not replace me with her.” I mock glare at him.

“How could I do it, Snappy? You’re my best friend.” He winks at me.

“Snappy? You didn’t call me that since… I don’t know.” I try to remember when was the last time.

“I call you that because you’re talking nonsense. Now pay attention.”

Fitzgibbons finishes his announcements and steps to the back of the dais, which would usually signal the end of formation, but Commandant Panchek takes the podium. He makes it a habit to avoid morning formation, which means something is up.

“What’s going on with Panchek?” Rhiannon asks at Violet’s side.

“Not sure.” I shrug.

“It has to be something big if he’s fumbling with a Codex up there,” Rhiannon says.

“Quiet,” Dain orders, glancing back over his shoulder at us for the first time this morning. He does a double-take, his eyes flaring wide as he catches sight of Violet’s neck. “Vi?”

„I’m fine,” she assures him, but he’s still staring at her throat, locked in shock. “Squad Leader Aetos, people are staring.” We hold way more than our share of the attention as Commandant Panchek begins to speak at the podium, telling us that there’s another matter to handle this morning, but Dain won’t look away. “Dain!”

He blinks, jerking his gaze to hers. “Is that what Riorson meant by last night?”

She nods.

“I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, nodding toward the dais. “Later.”

He turns, but the motion is reluctant.

“It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occurred,” Panchek calls out over the courtyard.

“As you know, breaches of our most sacred laws are not to be tolerated,” Panchek continues. “This matter will be addressed here and now. Will the accuser please step forward.”

“Someone’s in trouble,” Rhiannon whispers. “Think Ridoc finally got caught in Tyvon Varen’s bed?”

“That’s hardly against the Codex,” Ridoc murmurs from behind us.

“He’s the executive officer for Second Wing.” I send a pointed look over my shoulder.

“And?” Ridoc shrugs, grinning without a touch of remorse. “Fraternizing with command is frowned upon, not unlawful.”

I sigh, facing forward. “I miss sex.” I really do, and it’s not just the physical gratification, either. There’s a sense of connection in those moments that I crave, a momentary banishment of loneliness.

The first is something I’m sure Xaden would be more than capable of providing, if he ever thought of me that way, but the second? He’s the last person I should be craving, but lust and logic never seem to go hand in hand.

“If you’re looking for a little fun, I’m happy to oblige—” Ridoc starts, shoving his floppy brown hair off his forehead with a wink.

“I miss good sex,” I counter, smothering a smile as someone walks from the front of formation toward the dais, indistinguishable through the rows of the squads ahead of us. “Besides, apparently you’re spoken for.” Have to admit, it feels good to tease a friend about something so trivial. It’s a tiny slice of normalcy in an otherwise macabre environment.

“We’re not exclusive,” Ridoc counters. “It’s like Rhiannon and what’s-her-name…”

“Tara,” Rhiannon offers.

“Will you all shut the hell up?” Dain barks in his superior-officer voice.

Our mouths snap shut, and I roll my eyes.

Mine drops open again when I realize it’s Xaden climbing the steps to the dais. “This is about you,” I whisper to Vi.

Dain glances back at me, confusion furrowing his brow before whipping his attention toward the dais, where Xaden now stands at the podium, somehow managing to fill the entire stage with his presence.

From what I remember reading, his father had that same magnetism, the ability to hold and capture a crowd with nothing but his words…words that led to Brennan’s death.

“Early this morning,” he begins, his deep voice carrying over the formation, “a rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group primarily composed of unbondeds. When another rider rushed to her aid after hearing the commotion, she were attacked too.”

A collection of murmurs and gasps fills the air, and Dain’s shoulders stiffen.

“As we all know, the first act is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex and, in addition to being dishonorable, is a capital offense.”

I feel the weight of a dozen glances, but it’s Xaden’s I feel most of all.

His hands clench the sides of the podium. “Having been alerted by my dragon, I interrupted the attack along with two other Fourth Wing riders.” He dips his chin toward our wing, and two riders—Garrick and Bodhi—break formation, then climb the steps to stand behind Xaden, their hands at their sides. “As it was a matter of life and death, I personally executed six of the would-be murderers, as witnessed by Flame Section Leader Garrick Tavis and Tail Section Executive Officer Bodhi Durran.”

“Both Tyrs. How convenient,” Nadine, one of the new additions to the squad, says from the row behind Ridoc.

I look back over my shoulder and pin her with a glare.

Liam keeps his eyes forward.

“But the attack was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived,” Xaden continues, his voice rising. “A rider who had access to the map of where all first-years are assigned to sleep, and that rider must be brought to swift justice.

Shit. This is about to get ugly.

“I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail, and indirectly against Cadet Melgren.” Xaden’s focus shifts to the center of the formation. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”

The quadrant draws a collective breath before an uproar rips through the crowd.

“What the hell?” Dain bites out.

Every rider in the courtyard’s attention pivots between Xaden, Amber, me…and Violet.

I squeeze her shoulder. She hates the attention.

“She’s a Tyr, too, Nadine,” Ridoc says over his shoulder. “Or are you only biased against marked ones?”

Amber’s family stayed loyal to Navarre, so she wasn’t forced to watch her parents executed and wasn’t marked by a rebellion relic.

“Amber would never.” Dain shakes his head. “A wingleader would never.” He turns completely to face us. “Get up there and tell everyone that he’s lying, Vi.”

“But he’s not,” I say as gently as I can. I know he cares about her.

“It’s impossible.” His cheeks flush a mottled shade of red.

“I was there, Dain.” Violet confirms it.

„Wingleaders are beyond reproach—”

“Then why are you so quick to call our own wingleader a liar?” My brows rise in challenge, daring him to say what he’s so careful to keep quiet.

Behind him, Amber steps forward, separating herself from the formation. “I have committed no such crime!”

“See?” Dain swings his arm, pointing toward the redhead. “Put a stop to this right now, Violet.”

“She was with them in my room,” she says simply. Shouting won’t convince him. Nothing will.

„That’s impossible.” He lifts his hands, as though ready to cup her face. “Let me see.”

I quickly grab Violet’ shoulder and pull her back toward me, farther away from Dain.

After the Jeremiah incident she told me about Dain’s signet, that he can read memories.

I can’t let him see the memory of Amber’s participation, it will also show him that Violet stopped time.

I can’t let that happen!

“Give me the memory,” he orders.

“Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.” She glares at him.

Maybe Violence is a fitting nickname, after all.

Surprise ripples over his features.

“Wingleaders.” Xaden projects his voice over the chaos. “We need a quorum.”

Both Nyra and Septon Izar—the wingleaders for First and Second Wing—climb the stairs to the dais, passing by Amber as she stands utterly exposed in the courtyard.

A familiar chaos fills the air, and we all look toward the ridgeline as seven dragons curve along the mountain, flying straight for us.

In a matter of seconds, they reach the citadel and hover over the courtyard walls. Wind from the strong beats of their wings blasts through the courtyard.

Then, one by one, they land on their perch, Tairn at the center of the grouping, Aon is next to him.

Every line of his frame exudes menace as his talons crush the masonry under his grip, and his narrowed, angry eyes focus on Amber.

Sgaeyl is perched to Tairn’s right, taking her position behind Xaden. She’s just as terrifying as she was that first day, but I still find her beautiful. Nyra’s Red Scorpiontail looms behind her as well, and Septon’s Brown Daggertail mirrors the stance to the left. On the ends, puffing blasts of steam, are Commandant Panchek’s Green Clubtail and Amber’s Orange Daggertail is next to Aon.

“Shit’s about to get real,” Sawyer says, breaking formation to stand at Violet’s side, and I feel Ridoc at my back as he steps closer.

“You can stop this all right now, Violet. You have to,” Dain implores. “I don’t know what you saw last night, but it wasn’t Amber. She cares too much about the rules to break them.”

“You’re using this to get your revenge on my family!” Amber shouts at Xaden. “For not supporting your father’s rebellion!”

That’s a low fucking blow.

Xaden doesn’t even acknowledge it as he turns to the other wingleaders.

He isn’t demanding proof like Dain. He believes her, and he’s ready to execute a wingleader on nothing more than her word. As surely as if they’re a physical structure, I feel my defenses crack on Xaden’s behalf.

Tairn chuffs and every dragon besides Sgaeyl stiffens on the wall, even Amber’s. The riders are quick to follow, silence filling the courtyard.

I know what they see.

Aon showes me what happened last night, in Violet’s point of view.

Amber, the fight before I arrived, and then I see… myself. It’s really strange. I can see myself but in someone else point of view. I was pretty…terrifying. Blood all over my face, my cold gaze.

„That’s why I chose you, little one. You’re ruthless, and you protect those who are weaker than you.”

„Thanks, you know how to compliment someone.” I laugh. Yep, he’s definitely a big softie.

“That spineless wretch,” Rhiannon seethes in front of me.

Dain pales.

“Believe me now?” Vi hurles it like the accusation it is. “You’re supposed to be my oldest friend, Dain. One of my best friends. There’s a reason I didn’t tell you.”

He staggers backward.

“The wingleaders have formed a quorum and are in unanimous agreement,” Xaden announces, flanked by Nyra and Septon while the commandant hangs back. “We find you guilty, Amber Mavis.”

“No!” she shouts. “It is no crime to rid the quadrant of the weakest rider! I did it to protect the integrity of the wings!” She paces in panic, looking to everyone—anyone for help.

As a whole, the formation moves backward.

“And as is our law, your sentence will be carried out by fire,” Nyra states.

“No!” Amber looks to her dragon. “Claidh!”

Amber’s Orange Daggertail snarls at the other dragons and lifts a claw.

Aon swivels his massive head toward Claidh, his roar shaking the ground beneath my feet. Then he snaps his teeth at the smaller orange, and she retreats, her head hanging as she grips the wall again.

“Please don’t,” I hear Violet as she begs.

I can feel the sadness inside me. She’s too merciful.

She turns to Xaden and begs again, her voice breaking by the end. “Please give her a chance.”

He holds her gaze but doesn’t so much as show a flicker of emotion.

Justice is not always merciful.

„Claidh,” Amber whimpers, the courtyard so unbelievably silent that the sound carries.

The formation splits at the center.

Tairn leans low, extending his head and neck past the dais toward where Amber stands. Then his teeth part, he curls his tongue, and he incinerates her with a blast of fire so hot, I can feel it from here. It’s over in a heartbeat.

A gruesome scream rends the air, shattering a window in the academic wing, and every rider slams their hands over their ears as Claidh mourns.

[faegoddessog]

31: Samhain

Well loves, we made it, Every damn day (except that first one, which I'll rectify when I consolidate) Thanks to @slowsweetlove for providing the Austin based jungle-gym for me to play on. And thanks to all ya'll for hanging out with me , and Austin and sometimes Callum for October.. Hawtober? Hmmm...

Those of you that like to read my mind smut, I'll be taking a digital break for a while. Y'know: touch some grass, do some knitting, bake some bread, paint, declutter, put up some preserves or something cool like that.

Enjoy the end of my own creative challenge for #DDofAB- October 2024

Here is my ongoing masterlist of this project. Keep and eye out for the story in full (or at least less parts) to be posted

My other works are here if you are interested!

Warnings: missing the man, finding the man

You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Austin since those two weeks in New York.  He had pretty much moved out of his hotel and into your apartment for the duration of his stay.  He took you to plays, made you dinners and made sure a day didn’t go by without showing you that you mattered to him. That and he made sure your pussy stayed wet. You’d not had so much sex in your entire life. It was amazing. 

Then he was gone.  

Before he left, you two had agreed that, for now at least, you would keep it a ‘no strings attached’ kinda relationship. You had a whole bunch of work in the coming months and he was filming. He had explained that when he is working, he sometimes can’t really do anything else and usually his phone is taken from him.  He had texted you, off and on for a while, but it had been radio silence for some time. You knew he was filming in Hungary then here stateside somewhere. It was surreal and sometimes you felt like those two weeks were from someone else’s life. The lingering fear that it would be another ten years before you saw him again was kept only at bay by Callum. 

Cal had been far more communicative. He even popped into New York a couple times. Honestly he was far better at maintaining a friendship than Austin. 

“Yeah, it’s not like he doesn't care, he just gets caught up in creating character and the artist aspect of it all. Time kinda doesn't mean anything when he gets like that.  If you can handle that, you’ll be ok,” Cal had told you once at dinner. 

Funnily enough, neither of you were as driven to fuck without Austin there. You joked how he was the sexy lynchpin. 

Did you fuck anyway? Yeah, of course you did. But it was way more of a ‘friends with benefits’ feel than it had been with Austin.

Today though you are in the most unlikely of places. You are in Ohio for your cousin’s wedding. It was also Halloween, or Samhain, as she called it.

“It’s pronounced sow-een,” she kept telling anyone near with ears. She had this love affair with Halloween, excuse me, Samhain, so her wedding was gothy and occult themed. It was the only time she felt she could get away with it. Still there were grumbles from the relatives.  Skulls, ravens and ouija boards outfitted each table, complete with Tarot decks and black candles as wedding favors. 

She had arranged a palm reader and fortune teller  the way other people had DJ’s and photo booths.  The venu was out in a barn on her friends’ farm. You had come out that afternoon to help set it all up. The wedding wasn’t until after dark, of course. 

Her little sister, who was in her mid teens, had brought over a Ouija board and plonked down on the table where you were sitting and tasting the special "black widow" cocktail complete with black glitter and a red spherical ice cube. You thought it was a drink that tempted fate, and hoped it wasn't predictive of your cousins marriage to be.

"Play with me," she had asked, "it's not fun alone."

You agreed, what harm could it have really.

She asked things like:

Are there spirits in the barn? 'no'

Has anyone died in here? 'yes'

Am I crazy? 'no'

Have I met the person I'll marry?

The planchet wandered to ‘no’ for her and practically zipped to ‘yes’ for you. 

“Oooo, who is it! You have to spill, I’m dying to know!” she said wagging her eyebrows. She idolized you, living in the big city and making your own way in the world. You had promised her a trip to New York for a graduation present. She was definitely one of those black sheep of your midwestern family. Destined for something far bigger than marrying a local boy and popping out kids. 

“I don’t know, could be anyone,” you laughed, “I live in a city with eight million people.”  

“Ok, ok! Let’s try this. Ouija Board, where is this man?” she asks. 

O-U-T-S-I-D-E came the answer. 

“That’s unhelpful,” she made a sour face, “unless he’s like a forest ranger or something. Know any forest rangers?” 

“No,” You just laugh it off. Ouija Boards were supposed to be for talking to the dead. You are pretty sure that you aren't going to marry someone dead.

It was then that you heard the tell tale sounds of an old motorcycle in the driveway.

“Oh yeah, they said there was a movie being filmed about motorcycles and that they might be using the front drive to turn around in,” your little cousin says, walking towards the barn door. “Isn't that so neat, a movie, here!! I wonder if it has anyone famous in it. OMG that’d be lit! 

“I dunno, I’ll ask” you hear a deep voice outside. 

You turn just to see the silhouette of a tall man in the bright square of the barn door. 

“Excuse me, is there a restroom I could use here?” the timbre of the voice is unmistakable if layered with a Chicago accent. 

“Austin?” his name drops out of your mouth like a spell.

It’s bewitching, the way he strides into the barn, his heels thunking on the old wooden floor. The lights finally uncover his features, and Austin only has eyes for you.

“Is it you? Is it really you,” he says disbelievingly. 

“Me? It’s fucking you!” you retort, or try to. He is on you in seconds, gathering you in his arms. 

 He smells like cold air, motor oil and cigarettes. He kisses you, tasting faintly like whiskey.  The world falls away and it’s only you two. 

“I’ve been missing you,” he says, placing his forehead on yours.

“Me too, so much,” you breathe back, hardly believing this is real.

You stay there for the span of two breaths, until your little cousin squeals, “Oh my god it was right, he WAS OUTSIDE!” 

The End

credit to @strangergraphics for the graphic

Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

"I've been tagged by you before Lumiere!": @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke

[nightsdreamgates]

I need to know what will NiGHTS, reala and jackle what will sceared off?

There are many factors that would make them scared, is obvious to think that it would be mainly of Wizeman, the one who created them, althought, there are other types of fears we can explore further — funny enough, even if they are nightmarens, with a purpose to bring fear to visitors, all of them can also have fears.

— A Nightmaren's Fear: NiGHTS, Reala and Jackle

— NiGHTS

Having his freedom taken and return to the old norm, which is being under Wizeman's eyes again;

But besides that, there are much more to it. Often times, NiGHTS has these strange, shivering paranoia sensations, of being watched;

Being watched of something he cannot see, as Wizeman's last words before his run away haunts him till' this day: "Foolish child, your essence belongs to me, your eyes belongs to me, everything I've made of you is based of myself; Even at your strongest points, I'll always be watching upon you. I'll always will find you."

When there isn't a ideya or courage to sustain his exposed core, his mind is flooded by the reminds of his old master;

Also, NiGHTS as a phobia for tiny spaces, which is why he tries to cope by dancing inside of the Ideya Palace and desperately tries to get the visitor's attention;

The thought of also losing his whole identity and being controlled once again by Wizeman, is what gets him by the lowest. Losing his own control as Wizeman would take over him, is a vivid nightmare for even a folk that is created from one.

— Reala

Dissapointment. The idea of being what she can never reach to be, equal as her sibling's golden achievements, Reala struggles with a sense of unsatisfaction of self-fulfillment in terms of bringing pride to Wizeman;

She blames deeply NiGHTS for the curse he had pulled towards her, and all the weight she has to now endure being not only a general, but the future ruler of Nightmera, once she manages to proof fully, by capturing NiGHTS and absorb his essence to become fully one greatest being;

Althought even if driven by the rage, a similar fear that Reala shares with NiGHTS, is the fear of losing her own identity. The originality of her own being;

She fears Wizeman as a consenquences of her loyalty and recognition of Wizeman's ancient wisdom — One of the punishments that Wizeman does whenever Reala would show similar "signs" as NiGHTS did of his "early rebellious arc", Wizeman would harshly punish Reala by isolating her inside of a dark room;

This caused for Reala develop a phobia for dark areas, unironically enough. Even if she tries to show indiferrence, it's clear that the memories, rising anxiety, gives up the inner conflict and scars Reala got from these punishments;

Besides that she also worries of not being good enough, not only for Wizeman, but also for her subjects.

— Jackle

Now Jackle, as crazy and insane he shows to be at times, he uses this clown facade to cope and hide the inner conscience of his failed attempt of being a first level, lowering to only as a second all because of a defective detail from lack of his well... Everything apparently and metaphorically;

Jackle as a identity crisis at times, changing demeanor whenever he feels like a different style. Similar to a teenage girl changing her hair colour at every new sensational trend;

But what he is doing, is attempting to fill his never ending hole, to feel like he is also important and powerful by his own ways;

The cards is one of his coping mechanism, as a nightmaren with a unique ability to read the future, past and even the present;

Jackle has a irrational phobia of being left behind, forgotten or alone;

He knows that for Wizeman he isn't as important as Reala and NiGHTS. And Jackle keeps living on that thought, not caring much but at same time caring, is confusing, but it is what it is.

Woah I've been receiving a lot of quick asks recently, but I like that! This way I can keep feeding the fandom with new headcanons, oneshots and more writting content of NiGHTS besides the fanarts I make. Thank you anon for another ask and hope you like it!

[kitashinsukehoney]

BIG BOY (Lucifer) - SZA. (requested)

TW: Sex. MDNI.

Lucifer.

- You don't know why do you fell for him. But somehow he gives a big daddy energy. You do realise it is wrong for a human to be in love with demon.

- Everytime you see him, you will look at his veiny hands, broad shoulders and his charming eyes. Something about his eyes could turn you on.

- It is not wrong just to feel aroused by him, right? Well, you didn't realize he is a know-it-alls man. He knows what do you think about him. Especially when at night. Those wild thoughts flooded your brain and activates your hormones.

- You would touch yourself as if your fingers are his c*ck. You can imagine how he will ties up your hands above your head while you're moaning his name. Lucifer has this effects on you.

"F..fuck...Oh lord. Lucifer~", you moaned while touching yourself. You didn't forget to lock your door and silent your DDD. You were too high on lust and desire. You can imagine Lucifer pins you down and have both of your legs above his shoulders. His fingers should play with your erected nipples and he keeps on thrusting in and out from your abused wet hole.

*CLICK!*

Your door lock was unlocked by someone. But you were busy moaning and didn't heard anything. "Y/N?", Lucifer called out your name.

Your eyes widen upon his sudden presence and you quickly covered yourself up with the blanket.

"Why are you here...?",you asked him back.

"I'm the one who should ask you why do you summoned me. I don't need to know the reason anymore, i guess", he said.

"I'll be happy to make sure you're getting all those pleasures you've been contained for all those months", he said while taking off his coat and his tie. He even unbuttoned his long sleeve and sit down next to you.

He tied your hands above your head by using his tie, not just a usual tie but it's his favourite one. His left hand cupped one of your breast and fondled it. He played with the nipple and bit the erected nipple playfully.

You moaned his name again but this time you're not alone. He takes off his pant and boxer, revealing his veiny c*ck. "May i, Y/N?", he asked for your consent first.

"Go on, Luci", you said. He slowly insert his c*ck inside your wet hole which makes your eyes rolled. So this is how it feels to make a pact with the eldest brother. As he is about to move, you demand him to go for a fast pace. He smirked upon your demand but he is just following your wish.

He thrusted in and out fast which kinda make your sensitive spot turns on. Your brain can't think anything at that moment as if this sex driven you crazy. Lucifer watches how you have becoming stupid because of him so he put both of your legs on his shoulder and he pinned you down (missionary position).

He keeps on pumping in and out, didn't care how many times you have squirts. It takes him 9 minutes to cum inside you.

"More..", you asked him.

He chuckled. "I don't want to be the only one who should giving in.", he said those words while taking off his tie from your wrists. He laid down next to you. You get down on him and rides him as if this will be your last day here. He even spanked your ass and fondled your breasts again.

He flipped you down and continue to fuck you as a dom. Your nails clawed his back, leaving long scars. He even made a lot of hickeys on your neck and breasts.

"Fuck .. You're way too freaky that I expected you to be, Y/N. Wishing you could summon me every night just to pleasure you.", he whispered to your ear.

The sex lasted for 3 rounds but of course, you're satisfied with him. His body is not the only thing that showed Lucifer is a big boy. His c*ck as well.

[pollymorgan]

Teacher Negan - The Football Game - Part 3

Warnings: Of course, there's still a big age difference and Negan is an absolute asshole.

I confess to him that I will be a student at his high school after the summer holidays and therefore lied about my age. I stare at the ceiling, not daring to look at him, but even without eye contact, I feel the tension in the room.

Negan sits up and runs his hands over his face. I dare a quick look at his naked back.

"Shit.." he mumbles softly and then repeats it louder, "Damn shit!"

He turns abruptly to me and looks me directly in the eyes. I can't really decipher his gaze, but I know I've screwed up big time. I am painfully aware of that now.

"Do you realize that with this whole action, you have not only jeopardized my job but damn it, everything?" You can feel he's trying to stay calm, but his voice trembles and sends shivers down my spine.

I sit up now and try to hide my naked body under the covers. I feel incredibly vulnerable and exposed.

With a trembling voice, I try to justify myself. "I'm sorry, I.. I didn't know that...".

"This whole thing must never be found out! Understand?!" he interrupts me without hesitation. He doesn't even acknowledge what I'm trying to explain. My words don't reach him, so I reply only as expressively as possible. "Of course not!!".

He shakes his head in disbelief and then thinks for a moment. The silence in the room makes me feel my heartbeat so clearly that I could swear you can hear it pounding.

Suddenly, Negan stands up and without looking at me, he says emotionlessly, "I'll call you a taxi and then go shower. By the time I'm done, you'll be gone!"

As he says this, I feel my throat tighten. I would like to cry, to get rid of the feeling of not being able to breathe, but I pull myself together as best as I can. When he leaves the bedroom, I can already hear him starting to make a phone call. Quickly, I get up and gather my things from the floor to get dressed quickly.

When I accidentally discover a notepad and pens on his desk, I tear off a piece of paper and write on it "I'm really sorry, but I don't want to undo this night! Sam." Below that, I place my phone number. I have no idea what I hope to achieve with this. I know that this note will probably be torn into a thousand pieces and thrown in the trash in a few minutes. Then I quietly leave the house, as if I want to slip away.

The next few days are really tough for me. I constantly beat myself up with feelings of guilt and can't even talk to anyone about what happened. And the worst part is that I strangely miss Negan. Scenes from that night play over and over in my mind. I imagine how his skin felt on mine. How he looked at me. His dominant voice. The feeling of his fingers, his tongue, his penis. Never has a man driven me so crazy. But why him of all people?

I catch myself constantly staring at my phone. Hoping he didn't throw away my number and would contact me. But of course, no message from him comes.

I only have one option left. I have to get him out of my head and hope that we run into each other as rarely as possible at school. And that won't be too hard, I tell myself. It's a pretty big high school after all.

My cousin keeps asking me and wants to know who or what is responsible for my bad mood. But the fact that I can't talk to her about it depresses me even more. I constantly come up with excuses. "I miss my old clique.. moving is more emotional than I thought!" I lie to her.

She convinces me to make the most of the rest of my summer holidays and introduces me to some of her friends, and luckily, she is so persistent because over time, I have more and more fun. They are really great friends who are up for any activity and distract me perfectly.

The weather is wonderful, and this city offers so many opportunities. Hardly a day goes by when we're not out and about. Shopping malls, swimming pools, sports events, concerts, bars, nightclubs. Over time, I already know my new hometown quite well.

I wish these holidays would never end. But all good things come to an end. I've painfully experienced that several times already, so I have only one week of free time left.

My cousin, a handful of other friends, and I are once again sitting in one of our favorite places in the evening. We've been out all day and are pretty tired, but none of us can say no to one last drink.

I'm about to take a selfie with my friends when I see on my display that I have three missed calls from an unknown number. Surprised, I stare at my phone, which I had silenced so low that I probably didn't hear it ring in the bar's noise. It starts vibrating in my hand again. The same number flashes. Hesitantly, I press the green call button and say loudly, to drown out the background noise, "Hello?"

"Sam? Are you there?" answers a familiar deep voice. A lightning bolt shoots through my body, and my heart skips a beat. Almost automatically, I stand up and move away from my friends, who look at me questioningly.

"Negan?" I ask cautiously.

"It feels so good to hear your voice, damn it, how many times have I imagined it in the last few days!" he says slightly slurred. Oh man, is he drunk?

I can't think clearly and am completely overwhelmed by the situation. I leave the bar purposefully, and the warm night air gives me a chance to take a deep breath again.

"What do you want?" I ask, confused.

"What do I want? I want you, of course, but I can't have you, and that's the damn problem. Tell me you think of me too.. Please, I need to hear it..!".

Oh yes, he's definitely drunk. But as the saying goes, drunk people and little children always tell the truth. And the fact alone that he still has my number makes a lot clear to me.

"I think about you all the time.." I confess, watching the bright lights of passing cars. All the feelings I've successfully suppressed in the past weeks now come rushing back like an avalanche.

"I want you here, to touch you, to see your beautiful smile, Sam. I don't want to have to imagine it anymore.." he whispers into the phone, giving me goosebumps.

"Okay, give me 30 minutes, and I'll be there..." I say decisively into the phone. Suddenly, there is a strange silence on the other end. I wait for his response, my pulse racing wildly.

Hesitantly, he says, "That's not possible.. My wife is back from her cure, and besides, it wouldn't be right. It would be so damn wrong...".

I can't believe he's saying this. He calls me to reopen all wounds and make me feel bad. He was the one who invited me after the football game. He seduced me and took me to his place, even though he's married. He was the one who kicked me out and is now calling me after weeks just to reject me again.

It suddenly dawns on me that I wasn't the villain in this whole situation. Resolutely, I speak into the phone. "Negan, you know what? Just delete my number and forget everything that happened between us." With these words, I press the red call button with trembling fingers. I couldn't have handled a response from him at this point.

[swifty-fox]

6 and/or 15 for the bathing prompts 🙏

⁶⁾ “i can’t believe it took a night like that for you to let me help you with something.”

Doing a lil benny/Brady bc im Soft about them

Benny's bent over his desk trying to bargain with the words on the page in front of him to stop blurring together. He's been trying to get through all his coursework this Friday evening so he'd have the entire weekend free. It was one of the rare occasions where his schoolweekend and Johnny's days off were perfectly aligned and he had no intention of allowing something like Statistics get in the way.

He's mostly focused, studying was rarely difficult for him, but he's got one ear turned toward the main room of the apartment where Johnny was humming while he cooked them dinner. Benny's pretty sure the other man never realized when he was doing it, and Benny was loathe to bring it up for fear of killing the habit. He liked it, liked the sound of Johnny's contentment. And his quiet voice, while no great talent, was always pleasantly in key.

It had become a constant in the apartment the last month and a half, like the trundling of the railcar outside and the neighbors dog barking from twelve to two am that had driven them both crazy -- and brought on a certain modicum of yearning from Benny -- before it had faded to the buzzing lullaby of a city.

Constant like Johnny's keys on the bowl by the door and the smell of his aftershave while Benny showered and the sound of his breathing on the pillow next to him.

So when it stops, cut off by a sharp gasp and a muffled curse it's as obvious as an air raid siren.

Benny's out of his chair before the sound of Johnny's pain stops.

"Fuck-"

Johnny's stood in front of the counter of their narrow kitchen, hand clutched up tight to his chest and wrapped in a towel that was rapidly growing red and wet. The cuttingboard in front of him was in a similar state, red smeared across a knife and a collection of ingredients that had been hoping to be a stew.

"Let me see."

The other man stares at him suspiciously, clutching his hurt to him like a child. Benny doesn't take it personally, it was rare that John Brady's eyes weren't wary and suspicious. He was sharp everywhere he could possibly and rose-petal soft beneath and Benny didn't mind. He knew how to tiptoe between the thorns without so much as a scratch.

"Cuore, let me see"

Muscles relaxing in small increments, higher reasoning catching up with the instinctive reaction to being hurt, Johnny holds his hand out for Benny's inspection, face twisting in disgust.

"Lotta blood," he comments.

"Well, knives are sharp," Benny says softly, peeling back the wet cloth. The kitchen towel is definitely ruined, and he gives it only a moment of mourning because it's one his mother embroidered for him, before hissing at the sight of the deep gash through the other man's pointer finger.

Johnny's snorting in derision, "knives are sharp - Jesus is that bone?"

Benny folds the cloth quickly back over, wrapping it right, "Nope. We need to get you to down to the clinic though."

"What about dinner?"

"Darling, I'll put a lot of you in my mouth, but I draw the line at it being on top of carrots."

Later that night, laden with hot sandwiches from the deli down the street and Johnny's hand out of commission Benny is trading off taking bites of his sandwich and bringing it down to where Johnny is laying back against his chest for his own bite.

The slighter man is turning his hands back and forth, flexing them to watch the fat wrapped sausage of his injury bob in place.

Benny sets the sandwich down, reaching out to take Johnny's hands in both of his, spreading the fingers out to swipe his thumb over the silvery frostbite scars. They were long healed, the skin barely even a different texture from the undamaged flesh around it, but Johnny shivers either way.

"I can't believe," Benny says softly, "that it took a night like that for you to let me help you with something."

Johnny winces, threads his healthy fingers through Benny's own and tucks them against his chest. Benny feels his slender finger tap out fifty-nine exact beats against his knuckle before he speaks.

"I couldn't. We weren't in love yet."

Benny presses his face to the frown to Johnny's head, inhales and smiles through the agonized rush of feeling blowing through his chest.

"Ah Cuore, do you really believe that?"

[bellysoupset]

Okay, if you have time, how about Leo with some little, minor sickness (maybe even a surprise continuation of what happened on the plane), and he FaceTimes Jonah, and it's the middle of the night in Europe but Jon stays up and comforts Leo. Bonus points if Leo takes the phone into the bathroom to puke and it "surprise" triggers Jon's sympathy sickness? Or he's just feeling lousy himself from the illness you just wrote about, so he and Leo end up comforting each other? Fluff fluff fluff. Thank you! I'm crawling through my next fic and the speed at which you write is envy-inducing. (But I crave the content, lol)

This is a tiny bit different than you asked for, but I hope it's alright Lis!

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

Sick Jonah at Switzerland - Pt. 2

"I am fine, mum," Jonah groaned, all but tugging at the roots of his hair. The elation at having his mother (and sister! and stepdad!) fussing over him had faded quickly and he was ready for this to be over. It was just a mild flu, he wasn't dying.

Jackie threw him an unimpressed glare, continuing to fluff the blankets around him despite Jon claiming he was feeling warm and didn't need 5 blankets in the middle of Switzerland summer, "now stay put and don't kick it off, the fever will break in no time."

"Yeah, bet," Jonah rolled his eyes, more than a little grouchy and he didn't miss the way Jackie pressed her lips in a thin line, clearly finding humor in the situation.

"You used to climb in our bed when you were sick," Jackie whispered, crouching down next to him in order to stroke his hair, "not looking for us, no, just like our bed was more comfy than yours."

Jonah's cheeks burned and he curled on his side, fever frying at his nerves, "I don't remember that."

"You were too little," she shrugged, curling a tightly coiled curl around pinky, "you were the sweetest kid, darling."

"Now you're just straight up lying," Jonah sighed, closing his eyes under the hair pet. He was enjoying it, despite all the bitching he was doing. The biggest problem was the soup Angie had brought over an hour ago, that was sitting in his belly like a brick, causing him to feel overheated and clammy with nausea. He was thankful him and his mother weren't close enough she could read that in his face.

"No, I'm not," Jackie stroked his cheek softly, "aside from a weird fixation on operating in the animals you found in the yard, you were a sweetheart."

Jonah let out a surprised snort at that, opening his eyes, "what?"

"You'd drag dead pigeons and all sorts of rodents inside to operate on them, a horrible macabre thing," Jackie wrinkled her nose in distaste, "Jasper thought it was cute, of course."

"Of course," Jonah couldn't help but grin. If there was one thing him and his father were in the same page about was their love for medicine, "it must've driven you crazy."

Jackie raised her eyebrows in an amused way, although there was a flash of sadness in her eyes that Jon couldn't help but wonder was regret. He knew, now, that his mom had struggled with motherhood and her marriage through all of his childhood. It was water under a bridge nowadays, but she probably missed those days now that she could properly appreciate them.

No point crying over spilt milk and Jackie shook her head as if to disperse the memories, leaning in to plant a kiss on his brow, "I'll come check in on you in a bit."

"Please just let me sleep," Jonah groaned, "no more checking in."

Uninterested in his complaints, she waved him off and walked out of the room, leaving the door half shut. Jon waited until he heard her footsteps disappearing down the hall before kicking off his blankets and sitting up on the bed, reaching for his phone in the bedside table's drawer, which had been confiscated five hours before.

One missed call from Leo, only an hour before. A bazillion texts.

He made the math, if it was nearly ten PM for them, it was... four o'clock for Leo? Three?

Whatever, Jonah hit the return call button.

It rang and rang and for a minute Jon though Leo wouldn't pick up, but then the call connected and his fiance's chirpy voice drifted through, "oh look who remembered he's got a whole husband waiting for him!"

Jonah opened a small smile at the man's sardonic tone, "sorry, I-" am sick and held hostage by my mom who's living her missing moments with me? "got tied up here. How are you?"

"I'm great, now," Leo's voice was almost a whole note higher than his normal tone, excitement clear, "missing you like crazy. Luke and Bell tried to kidnap JD, can you beli-"

"Now? Why now?" Jon interrupted, frowning and fanning himself when the queasy sensation got worse. He moved the phone slightly, in order to burp soundlessly in his mouth and blow it away.

"Oh I got some disgusting food poisoning in San Francisco, I never wanna see a cookie again," Leo groaned, "Thank God I asked Luke to pick me up in Portland, because there was no way I'd have made it home puking-"

Jonah's stomach flipped just at the thought and he grimaced, squeezing his eyes closed when a particularly nauseating cramp gnawed at his side.

He opened his mouth in order to change the subject, but what came out was a gross, wet burp and Jon cringed, pulling the phone away quickly, "shit, sorry- I'm-" another gurgle crawled up his throat, but he swallowed it down, "sorry."

Leo's surprised chuckle died down, "it's alright baby, it's not as if I haven't heard you burp a million times before..." his good mood was contagious and Jonah opened a small smile, despite the horrible sensation of the soup churning in his gut.

"Uhm you were saying they-"

"Yeah, I puked all the way from Portland to here and then spent the night in the bathroom floor with Luke, quite the bonding experience," Leo scoffed.

"I'm sorry, that's horrible," Jon said diplomatically, feeling proud of himself for sounding so normal when his mouth was starting to water with nausea.

"It's fine, I got to cuddle Luke aaaall night, he's very comfy I'll have you know-" Leo's tone was teasing, purposefully trying to get a rouse out of Jonah and it wouldn't have worked so well if Jon wasn't feeling like absolute crap. He scowled at his blankets.

"That's great, Wagner," Jonah said bitterly, "you like him so much keep him."

Leo's giggle drifted through the line, "you're too easy, angel," he said lightheartedly, "hey, can you facetime? I miss your face..."

"Uhm, now isn't really a good time-"

"Why?" He could hear Leo's frown and Jonah rubbed at his chest, feeling his stomach burn. He swallowed another burp that tried to sneak up.

"I'm not- Leo, hold on-" Jonah groaned, dropping the phone in the mattress and planting a hand tightly over his lips, trying to fight the urge to gag. His eyes prickled with tears, not out of sadness, but nausea. He let out another wet belch, knowing that if he didn't, there was no way the urge to retch was gonna pass.

As soon as he went to grab the phone again, the call turned into a facetime request and Jon grimaced, "Leo, not now-"

"Pick up," no longer there was any humor in Leo's voice, "you sound weird."

"I swear if you start your jealousy-"

"No, you sound off. Pick up, Jonah, I wanna look at you," not anger, concern, Jonah realized. He let out a sigh and clicked the camera icon, trying to force a nonchalant smile.

"Hey-"

"You're grey," Leo glared at him and Jonah cringed. He didn't know why he even thought he could hide anything from the man.

"I'm not feeling too hot," Jonah admitted quietly and Leo's eyes widened, as if he hadn't already put that together.

"What's wrong? Is it a vertigo episode? You got meds in your carry on, but I packed extra in your toiletry bag-"

"No," Jon shook his head, giving up on trying to seem collected and dropping the phone in the opposite pillow to his, curling back into his spot, "it's some flu. I got a fever and my throat is a little scratchy."

"And you're nauseous," Leo completed what he didn't say and Jonah shrugged.

"I'm not, but they forced me to have soup-" just the thought of it had him flinching and Jon shuddered, unable to finish his thought.

Leo grimaced in sympathy, "and it's not sitting well," he completed, "angel, just puke it up, no point fighting the nausea for hours."

"I can fight it," Jonah frowned, rolling in the bed so he could open his hand over his stomach, pressing softly, "I just need a minute."

"Okay..." Leo didn't sound convinced, "do you wanna see JD?"

Happy to have his thoughts occupied by anything other than his body, Jonah nodded, propping his cheek on his hand, elbow in the mattress, in order to look at his phone.

Only then he fully took in Leo, who was wearing a tank top and sweatpants, hair a mess, clearly he had been exercising judging by the sweat marks on his wifebeater and the way his face was all flushed.

"You're looking hot," Jonah pouted, causing Leo to blush further.

"I'm looking like I really need a shower," the blonde corrected him, taking the camera with him as he hunted JD down in their apartment. Even though Leo was holding it quite steady, Jonah quickly shut his eyes when motion sickness started to add to his nausea.

"Here, baby, c'mere-" Leo said in a sweet voice, then in a more concerned one, "Jon, you should go sit in the bathroom, you're really not looking well."

"Don't-" He shook his head, "don't want-"

"Jonah," Leo sighed, frustrated, "take the phone with you, I'll keep you company."

"Gross," Jonah scowled and Leo shrugged.

"You rather go sit there alone? It's okay if you do, we can talk another time," he said, as if he didn't know Jon really didn't want to go sit alone either.

Jon let out a groan, then his stomach rolled once again and he decided to get up before he ended up puking all over his lap. He grabbed the phone, then curled up on the floor, in front of the toilet, propping his cell against a wall.

"Happy?"

"Jumping with happiness," Leo answered in an equally sharp tone, "I'm really sorry you're feeling crappy during your vacations, baby."

Jon hummed in agreement, leaning forward and staring at the water. He felt so warm, there was a horrible sickly taste at the base of his throat. He tried to clench his belly, in order to speed things up, but all that came up was some frothy saliva.

"Bloody hell," he groaned and heard a meow agreeing with him. Jonah draped an arm over the toilet seat, resting his cheek on his forearm in order to look at the small device on the floor.

JD was headbutting the screen, while Leo said softly, "no, baby, I wanna talk with Jon, don't eat the camera. Stop, bad kitty."

Jonah's heart squeezed and he blamed the fever for the way his eyes stung. He turned his head in order to gag fruitlessly over the bowl once more.

"Do any of them know you're sick? I know you said they fed you soup, but is that an european thing or-"

Jonah groaned loudly, pressing his stomach to the rim of the toilet at the mention of the soup he was trying to forget about. His mouth flooded with saliva and he spat it, only to trigger a gagging fit, that quickly turned into a loud burpy-retch and a splash of sickening sweet soup fell into the toilet.

He gasped for air, trying to gulp it down, but the mere attempt at breathing triggered another retch and Jonah let out a choked noise, slumping over the toilet as a huge gush of vomit erupted.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, feeling more than a little humiliated, working up a sickly burp and a tendril of cloudy spit.

"Shit, Jon," Leo's voice pierced through his nausea induced fog, "babe, I'm serious, do Jackie or Angie know you're sick? I don't want you getting dehydrated-"

"I'm fine," Jonah rasped out, wiping at his mouth and clumsily reaching for the toilet paper. He squeezed his eyes shut in order to press the flush, the glimpse of the half digested soup enough to make his stomach turn and another sickly belch to roll out, "they know I'm sick."

"Are they taking good care of you?"

Jonah slumped to the ground, then smiled, exhausted, as he saw Leo had brought the phone ridiculously close, so his face was occupying the whole screen. He looked terribly worried.

"They are..." he curled up, pressing his forehead to the ground tiles, the cooling sensation a balm against his skin, "not as good as you, though."

"Quit being cute with me, you're dying," Leo said sharply, "how's your tummy? Do you feel better?"

"A bit," Jonah sighed, closing his eyes, "the cold ground is nice."

"I'm calling Jackie."

"Nooo," Jon groaned, exhausted and sleepy now that the nausea had reduced considerably, but not vanished, "no, just... Just keep talking. I like your voice."

"You sound delirious," Leo groaned, "really, how high is the fever?"

"Shhhh," he frowned, waving dizzily at the phone to shut Leo up, "what were you doing before I called? You're all pink."

"I went to the building's gym," Leo answered him, concern still clear in his voice, "don't you think your bed would be more comfy than the cold floor, angel?"

Jonah let out a huff, "I'll move in a bit...", he yawned, "why do you call me that?"

"Angel?" Leo questioned and then heard a little affirmative noise, "ah. Well, because you are... Your literal job is saving people's lives," the embarrassment was clear and Jon forced his eyes open just so he could see his fiancé's red face.

"That's an exaggeration, I'm a resident doctor."

"You're the love of my life and an angel, now get the fuck up and go to bed," Leo said sharply, causing Jonah to laugh heartedly. He regretted it when his sore stomach cramped, clutching his belly.

"Okay, okay, you're worse than my mum," Jon sighed, forcing himself to sit up, his head swam at the change of positions, "just give me a minute."

"One, two, three-" Leo started to count, bitchy as ever and Jonah hung his head, concealing a smile.

"You're such a little shit."