#and I’m truly thankful to those who actually spoke up and reblogged and commented and told me how much they enjoyed it

[decembermoonskz]

I don’t think I’ll be answering anymore asks anon or not about my old fics. Maybe that seems mean but I’m not putting them back up and I don’t know if I’ll ever put them back up, and I just get really tired of having to repeat myself. I put it in my pinned post. Please read that before sending me an ask wondering where xxx fic is. Thank you.

[scoonsalicious]

2.2 Major*

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (f-receiving), fingering, edging, squirting)

Word Count: 2.9k

Previously On...: You told Lily off, Bucky offered you a ride home on his bike.

A/N: So, my job decided not to renew my contract for the upcoming year, so I've been pissed off, annoyed and frustrated. Please enjoy this extra part today because I could use the extra love <3. Also, it's smut!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

God, you thought as you held on to Bucky a little tighter than was probably appropriate, he felt fucking amazing. Like a marble statue of a Greek god, come to life. You honestly could not believe how well this evening had ended up going, even after your final discussion with Lily. You’d been worried, after you’d said what you said to her, that Bucky would be upset with you for how you talked to his best friend but you quickly realized that, if he was the kind of guy who agreed with her line of thinking, well, then he wasn’t the kind of guy you would be interested in getting to know better, anyway. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be the case. 

It was colder than you expected for an early September night as you whipped toward the City, and you found yourself pressing into Bucky’s back. You’d been a little disappointed when you saw he’d had a motorcycle instead of a car– it was impossible to actually hold a conversation with him on a bike– but you were more than happy to snuggle up to him like this, instead, and judging by the way his abdominal muscles contracted when you rested your cheek against his upper back, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

It was about a forty-five minute drive from the bar where you’d met the Avengers to your condo building, and by the time you reached the city limits, it had begun to drizzle. Once Bucky pulled up to your building, it was raining in full force, and the two of you were soaked.

Once you’d both gotten off the bike and secured the helmets, you made a mad dash to the awning of your building. “I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing at how ridiculous you both must look. “If I had known it was going to open up like this, I would have insisted on taking the train.”

Bucky moved a strand of rain-slicked hair away from your face. “I would still have insisted on driving you,” he said with a smile.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and then spoke at the same time: “Can I walk you up?” Bucky asked at the same time you said “Would you like to come up?” You both chuckled.

“I would feel awful, sending you right back out into the rain,” you said as you let the doorman hold your building’s front door open for you both. “Come inside and warm up a little; dry off.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, following you into the elevator and you noticed him trying, so hard, not to notice the way your erect nipples strained against the wet fabric of your shirt as it clung to your chest.

When you reached your floor, he trailed behind you, gently holding onto the hem of your jacket as he followed you to your door, as if he were afraid of losing you in the hallway. You tried to mentally run through what your condo had looked like before you’d left for the evening. The cleaners had come today while you were at work, and you were fairly sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around. 

You unlocked the door and slipped inside, Bucky close behind. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face him, watching as he studied the main living room of your home. “This is nice,” he said, taking everything in. 

“Thanks.” You slipped out of your jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. “Let me get you a towel,” you offered, moving toward your linen closet. 

No sooner had you opened the closet door than the lights in your apartment went out. “Doll?” you heard Bucky call to you from the living room. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you called back, grateful that your emergency candles were also located in the linen closet. “I’ll be right there.”

Bucky looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of your living room. “Looks like a good chunk of the neighborhood’s out, too,” he said. “Glad we got off that elevator when we did, otherwise, we’d be stuck in there instead of here.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you brought out the towels and a handful of candles. The idea of being trapped in an elevator for an undetermined amount of time with a man this beautiful would not necessarily have been a bad thing. “Here,” you said, handing Bucky some of the candles. “Will you help me light these?”

You and Bucky worked companionably for the next few minutes, lighting the candles and setting them around the living room until you’d created a warm, glowing perimeter. It would almost have been romantic, if it had been done on purpose. You handed Bucky a towel. “Here you go,” you said, then reached for your phone. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

“Not at all,” he said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Put on that band you like; the one that plays that song we danced to.”

You smiled. “Yeah, okay.” You navigated to your music player and opened up your Bleachers playlist, putting it on shuffle. You turned the volume down low enough so that you could comfortably talk over it while still listening to the music. “Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, trying to be a good hostess in spite of the current circumstances.

“I’m good,” Bucky said, taking the towel from his head. You had to suppress a snicker– his hair was going in every direction.

“What?” he asked, a small frown playing across his lips.

“Nothing,” you said, trying not to giggle. “You just look like an adorable drowned rat. Come here.” You started walking toward Bucky, and he toward you, until you met each other in the middle of your living room floor. “Let me,” you said, taking the towel from him and running it across his hair again. He bent down to allow you easier access to the top of his head, and when you pulled your hands away, he looked up at you through his lashes, stealing your breath with how beautiful he was in the candlelight. 

“Thank you, again,” you swallowed, “for driving me home.” Before he could reply, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The action seemed to catch you both by surprise, because you each froze. There was a sudden shift in the air, a coiled tension; it was like suddenly, you both knew what was about to happen between you. You knew what was going to happen, and that it was inevitable. 

“I… don’t ever do this,” you whispered, lips so close to his face that they were fluttering against his skin. 

“Me, either,” he told you, his voice gone husky. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “Really badly.”

“Me, too. So bad.”

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but in an instant, his hands were on your waist, yours around his neck as your mouths found one another. He tasted like a hint of bourbon as his tongue made its way into your mouth, and you moaned as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“Major,” he groaned, moving his lips from your mouth, down your neck, and to the covered peaks of your breasts. He sucked at a hardened nipple through the fabric of your drenched shirt and you arched your back, pressing your flesh further into his mouth. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

“Please, Bucky,” you heard yourself whine desperately as he continued to suckle on you through your shirt. “Oh fuck, please.”

He pulled his mouth away from your breast. “‘Please,’ what, pretty girl? You gotta tell me what you want with your words.”

His tone was so seductive, so commanding, that you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “Please… touch me, Sergeant,” you begged, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. “Everywhere.” You found his mouth with yours once again, and could feel him smirk into your lips as he kissed you.

“When you ask so nicely, doll…” he said, and you felt his hands grasp the hem of your shirt, tugging it up over your torso. You raised your arms above your head to assist him in removing it, and you stood before him, top completely bare.

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out a hand to grab and knead at the soft mound of your breast. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You took a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you kissed him again, gently guiding you both down to the floor until he had himself propped up on one elbow above you. “Off,” you panted, pawing at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Bucky hesitated. 

“What is it?” you asked gently, when it was obvious he was reluctant. 

Bucky avoided looking you in the eye. “I’ve got… scars,” he said, embarrassment written across his face. “They’re… they’re not pretty.”

You leaned up to kiss him. “Do any of them keep your dick from working?” you asked.

Bucky barked a startled laugh. “...No.”

“Then take your clothes off, Sergeant,” you said, smiling at him. “That’s a direct order.” 

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” Grinning, Bucky leaned back on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his head. If you’d had a cock, it would have sprung to attention at the sight of his muscles, the six pack that rippled across his stomach, the Adonis belt that pointed to unseen delights still to be revealed. You barely even noticed the ragged lines of scar tissue along his shoulder.

That was, however, until you caught the reflection of the candlelight in the metal of his left arm. That was unexpected, you thought to yourself, but by no means a dealbreaker. You bit your bottom lip as you studied him. Despite the scars and his obvious prosthesis, you couldn’t help but think he was perfect.

You reached down to the buttons of your jeans and began undoing them, desperate to get them off your body and him into it. 

“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky said. With swiftness but exquisite care, he rolled your pants down. You lifted your hips to assist him and he gently shimmied the wet fabric off of you, until he was pulling one leg off, then the next, leaving you in just a pair of pink lace panties. You squirmed slightly under his appraising gaze before he hooked his index fingers into either side of the waistband of your underwear and began to–agonizingly slowly– pull them down your thighs. 

When he’d moved them all the way down your legs, he fisted the material in his metal hand, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “God,” he moaned as he palmed himself through the jeans he was still wearing. “You smell divine, doll.”

His words sent another rush of wetness seeping from you, and you were convinced you were going to leave a puddle on the floor if he didn’t do something to you soon. “Bucky,” you moaned.

Tossing your panties aside, Bucky leaned forward and, placing one hand on each of your knees, slowly spread your legs open until you were fully on display before him. Suddenly self-conscious, you tried to close your legs, but Bucky stopped you with a hungry look. “Please don’t, doll,” he whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I just wanna look at you a minute.”

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky exhale as Bucky positioned himself between your legs, lowering himself down so that he was lying on his stomach, his face mere inches from your center. He ran a hand along the inside of each of your legs, from your knees to your thighs, and you gasped at the difference in temperature and sensation– one soft and warm, the other hard and cold. When he reached the apex, he tucked a thumb on either side of your outer folds and ran them up your slit, opening you to him like a fresh, ripe peach.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, and you could feel the breath of his words hot against your core. “I need to take a taste, doll,” he whispered, and before you could fully prepare yourself, his mouth was on you. Your hips immediately bucked at the hot contact, his large hands continuing to spread you wide as his tongue explored you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying not to vibrate out of your skin with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god! Don’t stop.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away from you just enough to murmur “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” before diving in again. His mouth was magic as he worked you, from nipping and sucking on your clit, to thrusting his tongue in and out of you, to gently nibbling the sensitive skin of your engorged outer lips. Everything he did was heaven, and you felt your orgasm building with rapid speed.

“Oh, shit,” you cried as his tongue lapped at your weeping hole. “Oh shit, Bucky, I’m gonna cum!”

He pulled his mouth away from you, leaving you gasping at the lack of contact. “Not yet, doll,” he said with a filthy grin. “Not yet.”

He proceeded to play you with his mouth, as if you were an instrument and he was a world class musician, but he wouldn’t let you cum. Every time you got close, he would back off, taking you just far enough before pulling you back from the ledge. It was frustrating the shit out of you, but it was magnificent. You had never been edged so well in your entire life.

Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, it was too much. You needed to cum or you felt like you were going to die. “Bucky,” you cried, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets and feeling the space wet with tears. “Bucky, please! Please, let me cum! I need it, Bucky! Need it so fucking bad!” 

His tongue found your clit again, dancing circles over the sensitive nub, and you felt one of his hands let go of you, only to have two of his thick fingers sliding into your entrance with no resistance. He finger fucked you while he sucked on your clit, and the combined sensation, after all the edging, was driving you crazy. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. “So close.”

Almost as if taking your words as a challenge, Bucky curved his fingers inside of you, dragging them again and again against your g-spot until you were gasping. The pressure was so intense; you’d never felt anything like it before– not once in all your married years had your ex-husband ever brought you anywhere close to where Bucky had brought you in one night.

You were a kettle, about to boil over; a caldera long overdue for its world-ending eruption. You were ecstasy personified, and he hadn’t even brought you to climax yet.

And then, you exploded, screaming his name so loudly you were worried your neighbors would call the police. 

It was a release unlike any you had ever felt before– a double shot of pleasure, and you were positive that, for a moment, you lost consciousness, or at the very least, your soul had temporarily vacated your body. When you came back to yourself, Bucky was leaning over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you know you were gonna do that, doll?” he asked as he bent down to kiss you. You could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue, along with something else, undefinable and unique.

“D-do w-what?” you asked, your own voice sounding shaky and far away. Your whole body was trembling, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsating through you. 

Bucky lied down next to you, pulling your naked, sweat-slicked body into his, and wrapping his arms around you. “You squirted all over my face, doll! It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed through chattering teeth. “I’ve… ne-never d-d-done that be-before,” you said. “F-fuck.”

“I’ll say.” Bucky nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something? A glass of water? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “Ju-just ne-ne-need a mi-mi-minute to c-come b-b-back int-t-to my b-b-b-body,” you said. “H-h-hold m-me? P-p-p-please?”

“Yeah, of course, doll,” he said, pulling you closer into him. He reached up and pulled a throw blanket off of the arm of your couch, wrapping it snuggly around you both, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of him.

“Y-you d-d-didn’t c-c-cum,” you said, feeling the trembling decrease, but not ready to stop all together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing your head. “Watching you come undone like that? I fucking came in my pants like a goddamn teenager. It was unbelievable.” His tone turned serious. “Did you like it? Was it okay?”

Using all the energy you had left in your body, you turned to face him, noticing the concerned look in his eye in the candlelight. “Th-that w-w-was the s-single b-b-best org-a-asm of m-my entire f-f-fucking life.” You kissed him again, desperately clinging to his forearm to ground you. “Th-th-thank you.”

Bucky smiled. “If you don’t mind, then,” he said, burying his face into your shoulder, “I’d like to give you a couple more before morning, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sh-sh-shit,” you laughed. “Y-y-yes p-please.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Burn Bright White - A Niklas Kvarforth/OC Story.

It has begun, besties! Please remember, if you like it, reblog it. You've no idea how important that part is to me, and yes, a little comment wouldn't go amiss either. I love to hear that my readers have enjoyed it!

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,464

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don't like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn't tolerated here. At all. Remember, it's fiction, not a documentary ;) It's also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

He felt his hand begin to itch, a figurative followed by physical manifestation, holding his phone in a loose grasp while unlocking the screen. Two seconds passed and he locked it again. Unlock. Lock. Unlock. Lock. Old habits die hard.  

Learning how to be anything different to who he always had wouldn’t come easily to him, and Niklas knew this intrinsically. The two sides within him at constant war with each other would continue that violent clash unless he fought harder, though.  

“I’m trying to be a better person.”  

His therapist had told him the more he spoke it aloud, the more the notion might sink in. He still scoffed at it, at himself. He heard exactly how it sounded, and it nauseated him without fail every time. How was somebody with as many demons dancing around his brain supposed to truly better themselves? Did he even really want to?  

“Yes. Yes, you do.” He wasn’t about to become something he wasn’t, a faded photocopy of the Niklas Kvarforth he’d been for so many years, whether that be by his own desire, mental illness, or what he’d armoured himself with in order to survive.  

He could, however, become someone a little more mentally sound and fundamentally still remain who he was. Not blacking out or having schizophrenic hallucinations was his primary goal, gladly now achieved thanks to the correct treatment. 

Indeed, he was certainly feeling clearer for his recent self-imposed stay within a mental facility, a carefully balanced cocktail of drugs alleviating his cerebral distress. It was the ones which couldn’t be sought from across the counter of a pharmacy that he knew he’d struggle most with, though. Hence the itchy hand.  

The rush of thousands of neurons racing at a billion miles an hour, pleasure receptors tickled by Bolivia’s finest marching powder was what he craved, now he was free to simply dial a number and have it delivered to his door within the hour. Unlock. Lock. Unlock. Lock... Unlock.  

“Ahh, so you’re alive, then?”  

He half smiled at Miika’s assertion. “Apparently.” He certainly didn’t feel it. A half existence, no drugs, no fun, no hedonism in the excess he revelled in. But at least his brain didn’t feel like it was trying to drown him in morosity. Or worse. Woo fucking hoo.  

“Usual?” An eighth of blow, always. He never deviated. Miika was only surprised his septum hadn’t by now, such was the depth of his habit.  

“Yeah.”  

“Within the hour.” The call ended, Niklas throwing his phone down at his side, lacing his fingers behind his freshly shaven head as he leaned back on the sofa, frowning at himself. Weakness. He couldn’t even be free of hospital for seventy-two hours without needing to call his dealer. Cocaine would very likely fuck up the tentative balance he’d actually put effort into achieving, but the side of him that courted chaos didn’t much care for that.  

Blow was an alluring mistress in that respect, and she always would be. At least weakness would lead to something that felt better than the monotony of an even keel, mentally speaking.  

“You must seek a path to finding your pleasure elsewhere, outside of the endless stream of narcotics and excess, Niklas.”  

Those trite words spoken by his therapist echoed around his head, his brow creasing slightly. Everything else mostly bored him to death. Naturally, his thoughts went straight to another pastime.  

He could simply distract himself with a woman, he certainly knew where to go to have one throw themself at him within minutes, with him having to do nothing more in way of effort other than show up. An easy lay. Oh, how boring they’d become to him, though. Securing a willing woman to bounce on his cock for the evening held no thrill beyond the act itself. They were all so banal. Square one loomed large.  

After zoning out for about half an hour, his long form hauled itself from the sofa with a grunt. A nearby Katze paused in her paw grooming to study her person, Niklas receiving her head thudding against his palm as he reached for her. Moving to the kitchen, he put on some music along the way, then poured a very large drink.  

Incredibly, he was fine to do so on his current medication, but had been strictly instructed that it didn’t give him a free pass to teeter into excess. So far, he’d actually been quite reserved. One the day before, two the day before that, a pleasant buzz tingling through his blood now that a few months of sobriety had vastly lowered his tolerance.  

Mind you, a Niklas-sized measure of alcohol was much, much larger than that of any average person. Unless the tumbler was half full, what the fuck was the point?  

A curt, yet sharp knock sounded the front door on his way back to the lounge, Niklas veering off course to go and let Miika in. Upon opening the door, though, it was not the burly strawberry blonde drug dealer he found upon the other side.  

It took him a few seconds to form words, so startled he was by the sight before him. Sexy just did not fucking cut it at all. “And you are?”  

Of course, he was expecting her brother. Miika had warned his younger sister that Niklas could sometimes be difficult. He’d also asserted that he’d likely come onto her, but then again, most people did. Besides, it was nothing Taissa couldn’t handle, and her brother knew this well. Hence why he’d asked her to cover the drop. 

“Waiting to be let in.” He still didn’t move, the tall man merely standing there with his eyes roving her unabashedly. She was used to it, Taissa sighing. It took little for her patience to wear thin. “Miika sent me.”  

At that, he swung the door open far enough for her to walk through it, the tall, lithe blonde striding through, Niklas feeling his pulse begin to quicken at the swing of her hips. His dark lord below... that was one hell of an attractive woman.  

She looked like a porcelain doll, with her hair gleaming, pale blue eyes, tits that were definitely too big to be hers by nature, and lord, that ass. Those legs. Those legs in those stiletto heeled, knee high boots, too, once of which she unceremoniously lifted to rest on the hallway table, unzipping the boot and pulling out a bag before fastening it back up again with a swift tug.  

All he could imagine was how those heels would feel digging into his ass while he piledrived her against a wall. Yes. He could definitely go in for some of that.  

“Stay for a drink and a line?” he offered, his eyes once again touring her appreciatively. 

“No,” she spoke firmly, holding up the baggie between her index and middle finger, her glossed pout gleaming in the bright light of his hallway. “Money.”  

He lowered his head, staring from under furrowed brows. “You’re rude.” His assertion seemed less offended and more amused, though. Offense wasn’t triggered easily within him. 

“I’m busy,” she huffed, looking agitated. “Stop fucking me with your eyes and pay up.”  

He almost laughed at that. She was acerbic, she had bite. He liked it. “What if I fucked you with my tongue instead?”  

Taissa would be lying if she’d stated her insides hadn’t pinched pleasantly at hearing a man that attractive offer such, but her facade didn’t falter. “As I stated, I’m busy. I want my fucking money. Now.”  

Oh, she was something else, Niklas smiling despite himself as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the required cash, offering it forth. She sauntered to him slowly, all feline glide, except hers was less housecat and more panther, taking the assortment of notes and handing him the bag.  

Giving herself a moment, she let her eyes wander. He was thick without being massively out of shape or overly muscular, very tall, liberally smattered in tattoos, and god, he smelled good.  

“For someone who’s busy, you like to linger,” he noted, the air around them seeming to crackle as they became drunk in the pull of one another’s intense, unflinching stare.  

“Can’t be helped,” she spoke, her eyes flitting to his mouth, her fingernail trailing down over the side of his neck, setting his skin to quiver. “Your beard is just the right length to really enjoy riding your face.”  

Hooking her finger beneath the thick, silver curb chain around his neck, she yanked him close, her mint-scented breath fluttering against his lips, turning her head to place a bite upon his jaw. “Maybe next time, big guy. If you work for it hard enough.”  

She breezed out of the apartment just as rapidly as she’d entered it, leaving Niklas standing there with his cock pressing painfully against the front of his jeans. He’d never ran after a woman in his entire life, but fuck, the urge to at least power walk after the enchanting blonde was a tough one to fight.  

The only enchantress he was to have a dalliance with that night was the cocaine in his hand, though, of which he truly couldn’t get up his nose fast enough. This then left him with somewhat of a quandary; he was high as hell, and only had Katze for company. No. That wouldn’t do.  

Picking up his phone, he called the only other constant in his life, his friend Bjorn, a fellow native of Sweden he’d met a few years ago after he’d done some digital artwork for Shining. He was a good time, unpretentious, and could keep up with Nikas’s heady excess. The perfect partner in crime.  

Except, that was, when he actually answered his phone. 

“Pick up, you fucking cunt,” he spoke tersely, aggravated. “Pick up!” He wasn’t about to be defeated quite so easily, though. Just because he didn’t answer the first time... 

Four more attempts over the space of ten minutes where what finally pissed Bjorn Nilsson off enough to grab his phone from the table. 

“What, Kvarforth?” he demanded, sounding somewhat irate. 

“Nice to hear your voice too, darling,” Niklas teased, lighting a cigarette. “I have an eighth of blow and the urge to go drinking. You coming?” 

He fucking would have been, had his friend quit in persisting to repeatedly call. “Nah, man. I’ve got company. Company who has my dick in her mouth right now.” 

Niklas rumbled a chuckle. “Answering while you’re getting blown? Either she can’t be that good, or you just wanna hear my voice so you can come faster.” 

Bjorn couldn’t keep his laughter in. “Don’t play with me, daddy.”  

“So, are you coming out, or what?” He didn’t immediately reply, making a noise that sounded halfway between a groan and a thoughtful hum. “Out of ten, what is she?” 

“Six?” 

His eyes widened a fraction. “A six? You’re contemplating over a six?” How fucking rude of him. “C’mon, you can come out with me and score a ten. Lose the chick and meet me here in a half hour.”  

He made a point, Bjron supposed. “Alright, see you then.” Needless to say, the girl he was with didn’t hang around for long enough for him to come, insulted at his casual rebuff of her efforts. True to his word, though, just under half an hour later the front door was hammered upon by the pounding of two hands.  

“There’d better be a fat line in there with my name on it, you fucking sexy, bald bastard.” 

Fuck, he’d missed him, Niklas grabbing his face and kissing his forehead. “Of course. Get the fuck in, brother.” 

True to form, Bjorn had snorted one of the two prepared lines before Niklas had even arrived back in the lounge, wiping his nose as he sniffed heavily. Ahhh, quality blow. His friend never scored anything less. “So, rehab worked out well for you, eh?” 

As always, Bjorn was a sarcastic fuck. “It wasn’t rehab, and you know it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Rehab, mental hospital. Same difference. No fun,” he chimed, waving his hand dismissively. “You feeling better though? No more blacking out and seeing shit that isn’t there?” 

“None of that,” he confirmed, sinking his bourbon and pouring another, a measure for Bjorn too before grabbing the rolled-up note and snorting the remaining line of coke upon the coffee table. “Which is exactly what I wanted, to get that fucking bullshit under control.” 

“And the being a better person pledge?” 

Niklas side eyed him, lighting a cigarette. “I can be better and still enjoy myself, brother. Despite what my fucking therapist states. ‘Find your pleasure outside of narcotics and excess’, she said. Blah, blah, blah.” 

Bjorn raised an eyebrow, Niklas continuing. “I’m fucking great now the psychosis is under control. Plus, I’m only really a massive fucking asshole when I get completely wasted, so I won’t. See? Better person.” 

“Remains to be seen,” he grinned, earning a glare he cracked up at. “Oh, fuck off. I love you either way, man.” 

“You’re probably the only person who does. Drink up.”  

Bjorn looked mildly incredulous. “Hey, can you let me have my high hit me properly first?” 

“No. I want tequila and pussy. Stop being a bitch and hurry up, and trust me, if I can’t find anything decent regarding the latter, I’m banging you.” 

“Tease,” he snickered, picking up his drink and sinking it in one. “Alright, let’s go. I’m choosing the location, though.” 

“Fuck, no,” Niklas snorted, “you’ll have me in some fucking metal club. Nah. Not happening.” If he went anywhere beyond a late close bar, it was usually an underground hip hop club, or the Bandidos clubhouse. It was too much like taking his work home with him, frequenting a place where he’d be instantly recognised. Then again, the women there... the fucking women. Little effort, instant reward.  

It would be fair to say his hallway dalliance with the pneumatic, drug dealing blonde earlier had left him feeling somewhat restless there.  

“Where?” 

“Could you roll your eyes any higher, Kvarforth?” 

“Yes. Now, where?” 

“Roadhouse?” It was perhaps the biggest metal club in Tampere, the most obnoxiously loud and the least favourite of Niklas’s. Bjorn, however, loved it. Mainly because it was a meat market and the drinks were cheap.  

Well, if there was any other reason to go beyond scantily clad women and reasonably priced booze, he was yet to discover it. He would, though, for he had no idea that as he and Bjorn left his apartment, they were followed for the duration of the fifteen-minute Uber ride across the city.  

Yes. When Taissa Aho set her sights upon something she wanted, she went to great lengths to ensnare it.  

[crumbledcastle28]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Book Worm

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: a long day of work can always be cured by your mate.

Warnings: sleeping on Az, reading, softness, descriptions of skin and body heat, allusions to sex and arousal. Also kissing and cuddling, Az is sexy (duh), and the two of them have a communicating mating bond (I’m so lonely).

A/N: this is definitely a blurb, and not really well thought out, and maybe the most self-indulgent one yet haha but I still hope you all like it! Thank you for any support, and thank you all so much for almost 500 followers!! I truly can’t believe it. Thank you :). And Merry Christmas Eve to all those who celebrate!! I hope you all have an amazing holiday. I am grateful for each and every one of you.

Disclaimer: this gif in no way illustrates how Y/N is “supposed to” look. Y/N is completely up to your own interpretation! I just liked how the gif fit with the fic. Thank you for understanding!

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, or reblog, that would be much appreciated <3

Azriel Masterlist

Even though every inch of your mate was indescribably gorgeous, you always found his mind to be the sexiest thing about him.

The way he thought things through, only spoke when he felt it was needed, and observed everything with the sharpest eye you had ever seen was just…

It was so hot.

His intelligence was actually the first thing you noticed about him. How he spoke at meetings, thoughtfully and methodically, always bringing up details that everyone else seemed to miss. You could see his intellect behind his golden eyes, and his desperation to understand everything that went on around him. A need for it.

You related to that. Your own mind frantically reached for complete and total comprehension of the world around you, and it frustrated you completely when you couldn’t get there. Especially when it put the people you love at risk.

Thank the cauldron you mentioned the similarity between the two of you to Az. If you hadn’t, there was a possibility that you would have never found him.

Truly found him.

Your mate.

You should have known by the size of the bookshelves next to his bed that he was the one.

Every single cracked spine and folded page felt like a piece of Az’s soul. You found yourself going through the books when he wasn’t around, seeing what pages he marked, trying to dissect why exactly that page stood out to him. Maybe it was because the information was important to come back to later, or the plot of the book was starting to pick up, or the rare occasion of the two lovers finally confessing their feelings.

You loved it, not only because they were beautiful, but because every speck of ink belonged to him.

Your absolute favorite thing, however, was when he left little notes in the margins. Whether they were just definitions to an unfamiliar word, or a broad comment, or when he corrected the author’s grammar.

You cherished those leather-bound pages so much. More than you cared to admit.

And Az knew that.

You swore he put his books next to your shared bed just so he could catch you looking, or in his words, “snooping.” He would constantly tease you about it, but would blush faintly when you caught him doing the same thing to your own books.

Az was a blusher. It was so endearing, and yet another detail about him you felt blessed to know and feel under your skin.

Still, no matter how much you adored Az, it was almost nothing compared to how much he deified you. Especially at night, in his own bed.

One specific night stands out to you the most, and it makes your mating bond tingle with affection every time it pops into your mind.

It was so simple, but yet so perfect.

Az had gotten out of the shower only a few minutes before you were due to arrive home, and he decided to spend that time alone laying in bed and catching up on some reading. His hair was still damp, and he threw on only his boxers before climbing under the sheets. He had a singular lamp on, which encapsulated the entire dark room with golden beams. It was his favorite type of lighting, no matter the situation.

He especially loved how you looked in it, however.

The sheets were pulled up to his waist, allowing his taut stomach to still be revealed, and he propped himself up against the bed frame. He exhaled, finally feeling some sense of peace and serenity from the long week he had just experienced. Using his book to destress and escape for a while was exactly what he needed.

He got so lost in the feeling of the paper against his calloused hands, and the images he painted in his mind, that he didn’t even check the time until thirty minutes later.

Which meant you were over thirty minutes late.

He eyebrows creased up and his jaw clenched.

How could he not notice?

He sent a strum down the mating bond, and tried to keep it as calm as possible.

Almost home?

He waited for about a minute for you to respond, and he felt a sense of anxiety start to creep it’s way up to his shoulders.

You never came home late under your own accord. It either meant that work had been crazy good, or crazy bad.

And Az really hoped it didn’t mean crazy bad.

Almost, you said down the bond, and a deep exhale of relief came from his mouth.

I’m sorry Az, you said. I promise I’m almost back.

Don’t apologize Y/N, he said. I get it.

He, more than anyone, would understand.

His body relaxed back into the bed frame, and he continued his reading once again. He wanted you home, desperately, but he wanted you safe more than anything. And if you were safe, what else was there to worry about?

He let himself enjoy the words in his lap for a few minutes more, sending comforting strokes down the bond every time he thought of you, and you would of course send one back.

He had been listening for the little squeak of the front door opening, and your quiet footsteps to echo throughout the house, and he laid his head back in relief when he finally heard them.

His mate.

You opened the door to the master bedroom, and he could already see from the look of you that work had been crazy bad.

You looked as beautiful as ever, but when you closed the door and leaned your back against it, he could see the exhaustion settled in your shoulders and the outline of your swollen eyes.

He could read you just as well as the pages in his hand.

“Long day?” he asked, and you nodded. You had closed your eyes when you leaned your body weight against the closed door, but you could hear him marking his page and setting the book down.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you said with a chuckle, referring to his reading. He scoffed back, and you finally opened your eyes to see him.

He looked…radiant.

The sheets were still pulled up only to his waist, letting his defined muscles and gorgeous tattoos shine. He had obviously showered, which always made his hair slightly frizzy and fluffy. All you wanted to do was run your hands through it. His jawline was still as chiseled as it was when you left that morning, and his eyes were still as piercing.

You really loved him.

“Do you need help getting changed?” he asked, but you shook your head.

“Thank you, but I’m good,” you said, and walked over to your side of the bed. You picked up your pajamas, and moved to the corner of the room to get undressed.

Az picked his book back up and looked down at it, trying to subtly respect your privacy as you pulled your shirt over your head. You giggled.

“Did I say something?” he asked, still staring at his pages.

“Nope,” you said with a laugh. “Nothing.”

He had seen you naked hundreds of times, and so you thought his chivalry wasn’t needed, but still very cute. 

You got yourself completely changed into comfortable clothes, aka Az’s shirt and sweatpants, and admired Az reading for a few extra seconds.

You loved how focused he looked when he read. His face was completely neutral, but his eyebrows were creased every so slightly. His features looked carved from marble.

You called it his “focus face.” There was something so charming about a feared Illyranian warrior like Az being focused on a simple little book.

“I’m done,” you said, and Az looked back up at you with a wide smile.

He patted the bedding next to him, and you crawled under the sheets. You laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. His body was so warm. You didn’t know if it was from the shower or how long he had been laying in bed, but either way, you loved his body like this. It lulled you right to sleep.

You closed your eyes and said, “Read to me. Please.”

You felt Az’s chest rise underneath your head. “Are you sure? You seem tired baby.”

“Please Az. I just want to hear your voice.”

The skin on his chest under your fingertips heated up at your words, and you were willing to bet that if you opened your eyes, his face would be blushing as well.

You grinned.

“Ok,” he said, and reached for his book on his nightstand. He opened it with one hand, holding it in the air, and massaged your hair with his other hand.

“Are you sure you’re not just jealous that I got to read today and you didn’t?” he asked you teasingly.

You grinned. “Maybe,” you said, and he laughed.

“You’ve got to be the biggest book worm I’ve ever met.”

“You have exactly fourteen more books than me, Azriel, so I beg to differ.”

He laughed softly and brought your hand to his mouth to kiss, before he set it back down and started to read to you.

You had no idea what was happening in his book, and to be honest, you didn’t care. It was never about the book in moments like this. It was about hearing Az’s deep, baritone voice articulate each word, emphasizing and pausing when he saw fit. It was about the feeling of his hands in your hair and his warm chest against your face. It was about the deep breaths he took, and just how much his voice seeped into your skin. It gave you a blanket of comfort, and you felt truly at home.

It was never, ever about the book. It was always about him.

After a few minutes, you felt your body begin to fail its fight against slumber. You tried to stay awake as long as you could, soaking in this intimate moment with your mate that was long overdue, but it was no use. Your body started to win.

You were inches away from completely falling when you heard Az stop his reading, and set his book down once more. He gently lifted you off his chest and set you on your own pillow before he walked across the room and turned off the lamp. Total darkness surrounded you, and you knew this was going to be some of the best sleep you got in your life.

Az walked back over to the bed and slid under the covers. You felt his breath against your cheek, and he pressed a faint kiss to your cheekbone.

“I love you,” he whispered, and pulled away.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“That’s all I’m getting,” you said teasingly, and you opened your eyes to see visible shock on Az’s dark face.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he said in a whisper, and you only laughed harder.

“That ought to be the most anticlimactic kiss ever! I know you can do better—” you said, but were cut off when Az pressed his lips against yours.

It was passionate and hard, like he had something to prove to you. He glided his right hand over your side, and you pulled him in closer by the back of his neck. It only lasted for a couple seconds, but your heart-rate rose nevertheless.

He molded his lips against your own for one last searing kiss, before pulling away and mumbling against your lips.

“Was that better, baby?” he said teasingly.

Your deep breaths when he pulled away was proof enough that it was.

Bastard.

You nodded and smiled tiredly, and he smiled back.

“Now go to sleep,” he breathed against your mouth and pulled you against his chest. You snuggled into his warm body, and pressed a chaste kiss against his collarbone.

“Hey Az?” you said.

“Yes?” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

Tag list: (if you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! I’d love to add you!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[thecatprince]

How to say I love you without ever saying it at all

Read on AO3

Summary:  I love you. Virgil has always struggled with saying those words. Roman has been hurt by them one too many times. However some things don't need to expressed through words.

Pairings: Prinxiety

Warnings: Slight Janus and Patton negativity (Janus moreso than Patton), roman is very angsty, i think that is about it!

Authors Notes: Another Post-POF/FWSA Prinxiety fic? You’d better believe it! (This is the only thing I know how to write now aalhdjhakfjadhf) This is a little different from my usual style of writing, so I hpe you enjoy! If you like this fic then please leave a comment or reblog as that makes my day! 

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I love you.

Virgil had always struggled with saying those words. Something about the weight of them and what they meant and implied, felt too much and tended to cause him anxiety. He opted to show his feelings instead, showing his love and care through actions, doing and saying other things that help to convey his emotions towards others.

I love you, he said as he hung out with Patton, talking about feelings and eating cookies. I love you, he said as he listened to Logan talk about the latest book he had read. I love you, he said as he sat with Roman, allowing the creative side to do his makeup and paint his nails, talking about Disney and swapping nicknames as they did so. He never said any of those things out loud, but he always felt it, and he knew they knew.

--

I love you. Roman hated those words. He had once loved them, the way they sounded, the way it provided a sense of warmth, the weight of them and how they could easily express want, comfort, support, friendship and, well, love. That was, until those words had been weaponised.

“Oh Roman, you know I love you.”

Those words were cold, slippery, smooth and hurtful. Roman knew love, one of his functions was literally romantic love, and this wasn’t it. No one who loved someone would hurt them this way, poke at their insecurities, build them up just to knock them down, use them and then leave them in the dust. To Roman, those words coming from his mouth sounding meaningless. Cold. Fake. Sharp. Those words hurt.

Roman desperately wanted to believe Patton when he said he loved him. He wanted to run into Patton’s arms, have Patton hold him while he cried, comfort him with cookies and a smile. But Patton had stood by. He had let this happen. He had moved forward, understood everything quicker than Roman, had hurt Roman and then left him behind. He wanted to believe Patton loved him, but he didn’t even say anything while Janus stood there and tore him down.

“We love you kiddo.”

“You know I love you.”

Those words, used again and again, with no real proof of any actual meaning. Roman wanted to believe them, believe that they loved him and that he was loveable, but when he heard those words all he could think about was how much they had hurt him.

Roman had sunk out and had barely made it to his room before he broke down, shaking as sobs wracked his body, feeling weak, fragile and broken. He had felt useless, worthless, wrong and hurt. He had felt more alone than ever, used, broken and left behind by everyone who had said they had loved him.

Except for Virgil.

Virgil and Roman had never really gotten along in the past, often at each other’s throats, there desires conflicting in almost every scenario. But, slowly and gradually, they grew closer. It started small, talking about neutral topics like Disney or favourite foods, teasing each other in a friendly manner, and then slowly talking about bigger issues, what they wanted, their goals in life. They started to hang out, spend hours doing each other’s makeup and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas so much they could recite it by heart. And in the midst of the chaos, the pain and the insecurity Roman was feeling, Virgil came and helped him.

Virgil had seen the signs. The way Roman put up a wall of dramatics and theatrics to hide his insecurities, the way he insulted people to drive them away, the way he made fun of things he loved to lessen the pain when others did it, the way he continuously and repeatedly got pushed down, brushed off, manipulated and made mistakes. Virgil had seen the hurt in his eyes when someone rejected an idea of his. He had seen Roman flinch whenever Janus spoke. He had seen the raw pain and heartbreak in his face when he found Roman after Janus’ acceptance, seen the broken shell of a side who was formerly strong and proud and brave.

And Virgil knew. He knew that he had to save Roman. Because he had been down that path. He had thought no one had loved him, that they didn’t care or hated him, that they didn’t need him, or were better off without him. He could see Roman going down the same path and knew it was only a matter of time before Roman was gone.

So when Virgil found Roman alone in his room, body shaking as he cried, looking broken and weak, Virgil knew he needed to try and save him. He loved Roman, and he couldn’t stand to lose him, not after they had come so far. Virgil felt a need to protect him, to hold him and save him from the pain.

I love you, he told Roman as he held him close as he cried. I love you, he said as he rubbed circles on Roman’s back, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. I love you, he thought, as he listened to Roman talk about everything he was feeling and thinking, knowing that he was only scratching the surface and that there was so much Roman was hiding. I love you, he said as he whispered words of comfort to the broken figure in his arms, holding him as close to his chest as he could, afraid that if he let go Roman would just break apart and disappear. “I’m here for you.” I love you. “It’s okay.” I love you. “You matter to me.” I love you. “I’m not leaving you.” I love you. “You’re my hero.” I love you. “You are amazing.” I love you. “You deserve so much love and happiness.” I love you. “You matter.” I love you. “I care about you.” I love you.

Roman had eventually fallen asleep, and Virgil had stayed the night, as if needing to protect him from every invisible force that could hurt him as he slept. And he never left. Day after day he stuck by Roman’s side, helping him pick up all the broken pieces of his life, sharing all of their scariest and darkest thoughts and all of times they felt worthless, useless, unwanted, unloved. Day by day they grew closer and closer, and slowly, gradually, naturally, Virgil found himself falling in love with Roman. He had always loved Roman, ever since they had all saved him from ducking out, but this was different. Being in love with Roman was warm, gentle, sweet, welcoming and natural.

And every day he showed it. He showed it by listening to Roman bare his soul to him late at night, when things were said that couldn’t be said during daylight. He showed it through staying with Roman for every step of the way, both of them leaning on each other for support and building each other up, piece by piece. He showed it by being there for Roman through the good and the bad, listening to Roman rant about whatever Disney movie, gay cartoon show or musical he was obsessed with at that moment, and comforting him when everything was too much and he broke down crying.

But Virgil could tell that Roman never really understood how much he cared, never really let himself believe that Virgil could care for him. He could see it in the way that Roman’s expression faltered whenever Virgil smiled at him, the way he cautiously smiled back, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards slightly before returning it with a sad grin. He noticed the emotions swimming in Roman’s eyes when he looked at him, the almost raw desperateness and dimming hope, as if almost wanting to believe something but not quite letting himself do so. And every time he noticed it, it broke his heart, but he didn’t give up. He would wait as long as it took for Roman to understand how much he loved him.

And then entered Nico. And Nico, well, he was simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened to Thomas. The best because Nico brought Thomas such a sheer amount of excitement and happiness into his life that he had so desperately needed after the complete clusterfuck that was the wedding/callback situation. The worst because Nico brought change and change was scary. After this point there was no turning back. They were moving forward, into uncharted territory and it scared Virgil, more than anything. Not to mention the pain that they had felt at the last heartbreak, something Virgil wanted to avoid at all costs.

But Roman had looked so heartbroken, and he had gone through so much pain and hardship already, and he was just standing there, looking devastated and resigned. Virgil knew how much Roman wanted this, how much he craved this and how much he deserved it. Because Roman did deserve it. He deserved to be heard, to have happiness, to have his desires and wants and dreams be fulfilled, without being called selfish, bad, wrong, evil. What Roman wanted mattered, and Virgil could hardly stand the way he looked in that moment.

And so Virgil did the only thing he could do. And finally – finally - Roman understood. Roman looked at Virgil, the expression of brokenness and despair he had felt seconds ago morphing into one of disbelief and shock and eventually elation. Roman smiled, truly smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he let out a huff of laughter, evidently over the moon. All Virgil could do was stare as Roman transformed from the broken man he had known to the dashing, lively, passionate prince he had always been. And Virgil knew that Roman understood.

The push, for Roman. A silent I love you.

A hand on his shoulder. That look on his face. The highest of compliments.

I love you too.

----

 Thanks for reading!! Feel free to leave comments, reblogs or thoughts as that is greatly appreciated!!

[cappsikle]

you belong // fred and george weasley

Pairing: fred x platonic!reader x george

Summary: you feel hopeless and that you don’t belong, but the twins are there to lend a helping hand

Warnings: depressi hours - talks about not belonging, giving up etc. not proofread, ending is kinda trash.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: this is basically me venting about how i’ve been feeling recently. 

tags: @ryeryemilani @a-little-too-much just ask if you’d like to be added!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Why did it have to be this hard? It shouldn’t be, but it is. You tried, you really did try, but no matter how much so, you still felt like you didn’t belong. You don’t belong. It's been five years, and you still didn’t have anyone to call your friend. Sure, you hung out with some groups and talked to them occasionally, but you didn’t have a tight-knit group with anyone, no bond that connected you, and no one to turn to when you needed it. Yeah, it sucks.

You hated to admit it, but you’ve spent more nights crying over this than actually smiling. You didn’t want to, god you were so sick of crying, but when it feels like the world is doesn’t like you, doesn’t want you, it’s hard to keep the tears at bay. And that’s where you found yourself on this night, sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring out into the fire as tears cascaded down your face.  

Today had been a particularly hard day. It’s not like anything really happened to cause this, but the feeling of self-hatred was more intense than usual. There was just this heavy weight in your chest, a pressure that was holding you down, keeping you entrapped in your mind. You couldn’t escape, your thoughts chasing wherever you went. You were annoying, you weren’t good enough, no one wanted you.

The pain in your chest increased as the intensity of your thoughts. You don’t even know why you tried anymore. Why try to make friends when no one wanted you around? Why try to be friendly when all you got were the back of people’s heads?

You were losing hope. Hope for having a valuable friendship, hope for a bond so strong that nothing could come between you, hope for a life that you felt was worth living. You glanced at the clock, the hands showing it was 1 am. You sighed to yourself as a few more stray tears slid across your blotchy cheeks. You supposed you should head off to bed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your mind started spiraling again, spouting insults to yourself, that was until you heard two sets of feet pattering down the stairs, breaking the solitude. You faced the fire again, squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your body against the couch in a pathetic attempt hide yourself from their view.  

///

Fred and George had planned to wake up in the middle of the night and brainstorm some new product ideas they would create in the future. So, as the clock struck 1 am, both sat up, grabbed the needed equipment and made their way down as quietly as possible. What they hadn’t planned, however, was the lone figure sitting on the couch, curled into themselves. They both stopped in their tracks, looking at each other before continuing to descend the stairs. Maybe if they kept quiet you both could just sit without disturbing each other.

That was, until they heard you let out something akin to a choked sob. You covered your mouth with your hand, hoping to whatever god was out there that the boys at the bottom of the steps didn’t hear it. Your prayers were left unanswered as you heard them walk closer to the couch.

George and Fred glanced at each other a second time, a look of concern and curiosity crossing their features. Had they known what you were doing down here, they wouldn’t have disturbed them. But, as their presence was known, they knew they couldn’t just leave when someone was in a state such as this.

Slowly, the twins made their way to the back of the couch, George reaching out to gently grasp your shoulder, which you practically jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,”

“It’s okay...” you brought your hand up to your chest, trying to slow down your racing heart. You hadn’t expected the strange boys to take notice of you, and you definitely didn’t expect them to come over and talk to you.

You looked behind you at the pair of redheaded twins. The one with his hand on your shoulder, that was George, and the one standing next to him was Fred. You don’t exactly know how you were able to tell the twins apart, but you just could. It was possibly due to the many years of close observation, not that you’d admit that to anyone.

Fred, the shorter of the two, spoke up next, “are you alright over here? We heard you crying."

You shrugged your shoulders at his question, why would he care? No one else did. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

George took his hand off your shoulder, much to your delight, and opted to sit next to you instead, Fred following suit on the opposite side of you. “C’mon, love. What's up?”

You wanted to say something, you really did. But you knew once you started speaking, they’d get bored or annoyed and leave. That's happened way too many times to count. Again, you shrugged your shoulders and brought your hand to rub your arm, trying to rid the internal chill spreading through your bones.

“It’s just... I’m lonely,” you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap, not wanting to see the looks on their faces. “I don’t have any friends, no family here, and I’m all alone. No one to talk to, no one to hang out with-” you don’t know why you kept practically spilling your guts to these strangers, but it felt so good to finally tell someone other than your teddy bear all the pent up feelings you’ve had for years.

George leaned back a tad to meet his eyes with Fred, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. The twins new who you were, well, they knew of you. They've always seen you around, occasionally accompanied by different groups of people, but other than that you always seemed to be alone. Had they known how you felt, they would’ve spoken to you ages ago.

After a few deep breaths, you kept talking. “I just feel like maybe there isn’t any point in trying anymore. No one cares about me, no one even looks at me. I’m just a background character in everyone’s story. I’m always chosen last.” you couldn’t help but let more tears fall from your already red and puffy eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe them away.

George took notice and hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder whilst Fred placed a hand on your knee and squeezed gently. In a state like this, you wanted nothing more than to push them away, but the warmth they provided just from those simple touches alone brought a comfort you had never felt before.  

They didn’t know you, yet their hearts yearned for the chance to make you feel better, feel happier. They wished they could take away this pain and make you happy. And that’s what they intended to do. George rubbed your shoulder and let you cry, looking over to his twin yet again, sharing a knowing look.

Fred spoke up first this time, bringing your attention to him, “look, we may not know that well, but we sure as hell want to!” you look at Fred with a deadpanned look and chuckled to yourself.

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“We’re not,” George cut in, “truth is, we’ve always seen you around and you genuinely look like a great person,” Fred nodded his head in confirmation “we’d love to get to know you.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but sooner or later something will happen that’ll leave you guys ahead and me left in the dust. That's how it’s always been.”

George shook his head as Fred spoke up, squeezing your knee gently to bring your attention towards him, “we vow to never let that happen. We vow to make all your days' worth living-”

“-to make you see that you’re important-”

“-to bring joy and laughter-”

“-and, we vow to show you that you belong here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. What could you say to something like that? You were touched, your heart beat just that little bit faster in your chest. They seemed serious, and honestly, why would they lie? You felt a small, almost invisible, smile grace your lips. You'd never had someone say any of these things to you. But you still had your doubts. You had to make sure.

“Are you sure you guys really want to do this?”

As both Fred and George looked at you, hearts reaching out, they sealed their promise with a sentence spoken in unison, “we’re sure.”

And you know what? They were right, and they did what they said they’d do. It took time, of course, a lot of it, for you to finally feel like you had a place in the world. The three of you quickly became inseparable, doing absolutely everything together. It did take you some time to warm up to them, but with their joyous laughter and constant upbeat energy, it was almost impossible not to love them, impossible to not want to be around them all the time.

However, when those bad days came, they were always there to reassure you. No matter how hopeless you felt, or how difficult it was to get out of bed, Fred and George were always there, lending their hands and hearts out to you, throwing you a rope when you needed a tug. You never really said this to them, but you truly believe they saved you. They saved you from believing life wasn’t worth it, from seeing the world as nothing but grey and dull. They brought the colour to your life.

So, yes, you did finally have people to talk to, people confide in when you needed it, and you finally created a bond with someone. You finally had those people who wouldn’t turn their backs on you, who strived to make your day full of laughter, to make your heartbeat faster. You finally felt like you belonged.

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

The Ever Handsome and Always Charming Dean Winchester

Title: The Ever Handsome and Always Charming Dean Winchester

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel 

Rating: Everyone :)

Tags: fluff

Summary: Just a cute little something I wrote for a friend :) @thebridgekid <3 A perfectly simple Dean and Cas wedding!

AO3

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

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     Cas looked around the church they were standing in while they waited for the man they were there to meet, one of the Fathers of the church. It had been a while since he had been in one, since he had been in a house built for his father, at least not since he had decided to take off and leave his creation to fend for themselves. Being back inside one was… odd, to say the least. He was still angry with his father for leaving, for abandoning them when they needed him the most, and all those years before he had taken off while the planet almost died several times over. 

     “Agents,” the Father they were waiting for walked up to them, “how can I help you this fine day?”

     “We were wondering if you could give us some information on a member of your church,” Dean spoke, easily slipping into his agent persona, “Mark Marsden. He went missing a few days ago and was last seen here. Just wondering if we can ask you a few questions.”

     “Of course, Agents, if you'll follow me to my office we can speak there.”

     The Father led them through the church and through another set of large double doors, the room on the other side packed full and decorated to the nines.

     “I'll ask you to be quiet as we pass through,” the Father whispered to them, “one of our young couples is getting married. We’ll keep to the side and sneak into the back.”

     They both nodded, following the Father back to his office, but as they did Cas kept his eyes on the scene at the front of the church. He watched as they passed as everyone in their seats had their eyes glued to the couple at the front, many of them dabbing tears from their eyes as the Pastor spoke of their joining in the eyes of God. As they reached the front of the room where the Fathers office was hidden at the back, Cas remained outside the door while Dean went inside to ask the questions he needed to ask, and watched the remainder of the ceremony. He stood silently at the side and listened as the young man and woman recited their vows to one another, the longing he could see in their eyes as they did reminded him of green eyes staring back at him. 

     Dean finished up with the Father and left his office just in time to catch the end of the wedding, and just in time to see how intensely Cas was watching it all. The couple at the altar exchanged rings, and it didn't miss Dean's eyes when Cas clasped his hands together, very clearly rubbing his left ring finger as he did. And as the wedding came to a close, Dean's eyes were on Cas as the couple kissed to seal the deal. Cas had yet to take his eyes off of them, and the way Cas was staring at them when they kissed, there was something in his eyes that Dean had never seen before, a look that had him wondering if maybe…

     The couple pulled back from each other and the church erupted in cheers and whistles as they walked hand in hand down the aisle and outside, their guests following them out. It was enough to pull Dean out of his mind, so he pushed off his spot on the wall and walked over to nudge Cas with his elbow. 

     “Ready to go, man? We gotta go tell Sam what we found out.”

     Cas just nodded and followed Dean out of the church and back into the impala.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     They found themselves back in the church not too long after. They had gotten another small lead on their suspect from before, but they needed the Fathers help again, so here they were. Though this time the church was empty. The wedding party had long since filed out, surely to head to their reception, but Cas found himself being drawn to the altar at the front, standing at the bottom of the stairs just below it. He was only a few steps away from where the young couple had been standing not too long ago, professing their love for one another in the eyes of his father. 

     “Well, the good Father’s not here, no one is actually. We must have just missed everyone…” He stopped, finding Cas standing there, staring up at the flowery archway with that same strange look in his eyes from before, “Cas…?”

     “The idea of being joined with another being,” he began, eyes not moving from the archway in front of him, his voice almost a whisper, “to prove the strength of your bond, in front of the eyes of my Father... It's one that I never thought would matter to me but, after watching the wedding today I find myself feeling that perhaps it does matter to me.”

     “Cas,” Dean smiled to himself as he moved closer to Cas, standing beside him now, “are you, in your own weird way, asking me to marry you?”

     Cas still didn't turn to look at Dean, but let go a small smile himself, “I know my Father is not truly here, but wherever he is, he is always watching, listening. And our bond, Dean, is stronger than any bond ever formed or created in this universe. If any bond should be recognized by the eyes of God, it should be ours.”

     “So you are asking me to marry you,” Dean reached out and took Cas’s chin between his fingers, turning him to face him finally, “so why don't we do it right now then?”

     “Right now?” Cas quirked a brow at him.

     Dean shrugged, “You want to prove our bond in the eyes of God right? And like you said, he's always watching. So whether we do it here and now, or somewhere else, who cares?”

     “But there is no minister to officiate the joining.”

     “Do we really need one?” He asked, and Cas tilted his head in this typical Cas fashion that Dean loved so much. “The whole point of having a minister is because they are connected to God, right, but you're an Angel, one of God's children. I don't think it gets any closer to God then that.”

     “So right here, right now, just the two of us, you wanna get married?”

     “If you want to, Cas, then yes,” he nodded, his smile growing brighter and wider with every second, “we don't need anything big or fancy with hundreds of people we barely know. Just us, that's all we've ever needed.”

     Dean took another step closer to Cas, laying his head gently on his as he asked, “So, do you want to marry me, Cas?”

     Cas’s smile grew so impossibly wide he thought he might explode. Never had he ever thought he would be here, about to marry the love of his life. “Yes,” he breathed against Dean's lips, “I do want to marry you, Dean.”

     “Okay then, let's do this.” 

     He turned and held out his arm to Cas who took it instantly, and then he walked them up the few steps to stand at the top under the archway. Once they were there, he turned and took both of Cas's hands in his own and readied to make this Angel his in their own private little ceremony, just the two of them. Little did they both know, it wasn't as private as they had originally thought it was.

     Sam had entered the church not too long after Dean and Cas had. He saw the impala out front and knew they were both still there, and had walked in just in time to see the two of them walk up the steps together, and come to stand face to face under the archway. He had come to tell them that he had found a major break in the case and that they no longer needed the Fathers help. But when he found them up there together like that, holding hands and very obviously doing what he thought they were doing, he didn't have the heart to interrupt what he thought was a very long time coming. So he opted to stay quietly at the back of the room, and leaned against the wall to watch unnoticed by them.

     “So,” Cas spoke after a few moments of just staring at each other, “where do we start?”

     “Let's skip the, ‘we are gathered here today’, and jump straight to the vows.”

     Cas nodded eagerly, “I would like to go first, Dean.”

     Dean smiled at his eagerness and nodded in return, “Sure thing, Cas.”

     Cas squared himself and took a deep breath, holding Dean's hands a little tighter in his as he began, “Dean, I knew from the moment I laid a hand on your soul in hell that I was lost. I have been alive for millenia, and yet in all my many years, nothing has ever changed me the way you have in such a short time. The brightness of your soul, and the strength of our bond have made me into a better Angel then I ever thought I could be. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me finally feel loved and whole. I wouldn't be who I am right now without you, Dean. I love you.”

     Dean wasn’t one to cry at these kinds of things, not usually, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little choked up at Cas’s words. He knew that the Angel over the years had caused a monumental change in himself, but he never realized how much he had done the same for Cas.

     “Ok, my turn,” he cleared his throat before he spoke, holding tighter to Cas’s hands and feeling the tears welling in his eyes, but he didn't care, “in my life I have thought, many times, that I knew what true love felt like, but as soon as I saw you walking through those barn doors for the first time, I knew that all those other times I was so very wrong. The profound bond we share is something I have never felt, ever, in my entire life. And I don't think anyone, past, present, or future, will ever be lucky enough to feel the way we do, how strongly we do, through that bond. And I know it took me a long time to admit it, because we both know I'm a stubborn ass, but I have always known that I never want to be without you, Cas. I'm not the same when you're not around, I feel empty when you're gone, even if it's just for a few hours, I never want to be without you. And with you in my arms forever, I know I will be the happiest man on Earth. I love you, Cas.”

     Neither of them could resist any longer as the tears forced their way past their last defenses, streaming down their cheeks. “And now?” Cas forced past the lump in his throat.

     “And now,” Dean let go of Cas's hands for a second to wipe at his eyes, then to reach down into his pants pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. Cas’s eyes went wide as Dean opened it to reveal a beautiful silver ring, with a feathered line of black running through the center. “I've been carrying this around for a while now. I made it myself, but I wasn't sure if weddings or marriage was something that was for us, so I haven't said anything yet, but I was going to give this to you regardless of what we decided, at some point when I got the nerve up to give it to you,” he shook his head with a light chuckle and pulled himself out of his rambling, then held out his hand, “anyways, give me your left hand, Cas.”

     Dean’s shaking hands reached out to take Cas’s and clumsily slipped the ring on his finger. He admired it on Cas’s hand for a moment, before bringing his hand up to his mouth and pressing a light kiss to the ring. Cas smiled at the action, bringing his hand up to his face to admire the ring himself before something dawned on him that kind of upset him, “Dean, I do not have a ring for you.”

     “It's alright, Cas,” he shook his head, still smiling at his Angel, “I don't need one.”

     “But,” he frowned looking down at the ring on his finger, “this ring symbolizes that I am the other half of your bond, you have nothing to symbolize that you are the other half of mine.”

     “Okay, how ‘bout this then,” he took the ring off his right hand that he always wore, and gave it to Cas, “we’ll use this one as a placeholder for now, and then when we get back to the bunker you can make one like I did.”

     Cas smiled and accepted the ring, slipping it onto Dean’s left hand, copying Dean's action and placing a sweet kiss on it. “There, now everyone will know that you and I belong to each other.”

     “And now we have one more thing to do,” he took both of Cas's hands in his again and pulled him a little closer as he asked, “Castiel, do you take the ever handsome and always charming Dean Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

     “I do take you, Dean,” Cas took another step closer, now chest to chest with Dean, “and do you, Dean, take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

     “I definitely do, Cas. And now I pronounce us-”

     “Wait!”

     “What?” A small surge of panic shot through Dean.

     “Last names,” Cas stated so simply, and Dean let out a breath of relief and a slight chuckle, “I don't have one, what do we do?”

     “What do you want to do? It's your call.”

     Without any hesitation, Cas blurted out, “I want to take yours.”

     “I was hoping you would say that,” Dean whispered and leaned in to press their foreheads together, “in that case, I now pronounce us husbands, Mr Dean and Castiel Winchester,” Cas smiled at the use of his new full name, “and now I’m gunna kiss my very handsome groom.”

     “Please do.”

     Dean took no time in closing the small gap between them and pressing his lips firmly against Cas's, his husband. And as his lips moved in perfect sync against Cas’s he couldn’t think of anything else except finally, finally Cas was his husband, finally they were married, and finally he was Castiel Winchester. Forever his Angel.

     Sam had managed to remain quiet and unseen for the entire little ceremony. It was perfectly Dean and Cas, a secret wedding, just the two of them. And even though Sam wasn't supposed to be there, he was honoured that he was able to bear witness to the most perfect wedding he had ever seen. 

     He stood there long enough to watch them seal their joining with a kiss, and when it was obvious that they weren't going to be separating anytime soon, he decided to slowly back out of the room and let them have their time together. Besides, while they were distracted with each other, he had some work to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     They stayed in the church for a while, standing under the archway, kissing, holding each other, calling each other husband. Dean wasn't sure how long they had been standing there when things started to get a little intense. Their kisses turned heated and hands were starting to wander, so Dean pulled back from Cas who chased him with his lips, and was disappointed when Dean pulled back even further. “Cas, wait a second,” Dean laughed at the whine he let out while still trying desperately to get to his lips, “Cas, let's go back to the motel, we can lock Sam out and have a mini honeymoon.”

     Cas stopped trying to chase after Dean and pulled back to look at him. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at him and all he could do was nod enthusiastically while practically dragging Dean towards the front doors of the church. “Yeah, let's do that!”

     “We should let Sam know that we are married now,” Cas added as they exited the church and made way for the car, “but after our mini honeymoon.”

     Dean stopped dead in the middle of the parking lot, causing Cas to jerk to a stop beside him and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Something tells me he already knows,” he groaned and ran a hand down his face.

     Cas turned away from Dean and looked over at the car, and yeah, Sam definitely knew. The impala was completely decked out from hood to trunk. There were white streamers and paper doves all over the hood and roof, the entire ground surrounding the car was littered with confetti, empty beer cans from the trunk had been strung to the bumper, and the back window was painted with the words ‘FINALLY hitched!”

     They slowly walked up to the car, not exactly sure what to do about it, or how to even get in. Dean eyed a piece of paper stuck under the windshield wipers, and just as he grabbed it the devil himself drove by in his own car. He honked wildly at them as he passed, waving his hand out the window, then sped off down the road and out of sight. 

     Dean just shook his head and groaned, “Oh god,” as he opened the note and read it out loud, “Honestly, it's about time guys! Seriously! I'm really happy you both finally did this. I stopped by the church to tell you guys that I had a new lead on the case but I ended up being just in time to see your private wedding, and now you have an official witness. Also, don't worry about the case, I got this one. I made you two a reservation at an actual hotel in town, the Royal Stay Hotel, in the honeymoon suite, you can check in any time. The reservation ends Monday afternoon, so enjoy your four days off! Have fun newlyweds! Love, sam."

     “That was very nice of him,” Cas looked up at Dean, trying to gauge his reaction and smiled when Dean did too.

     “Yeah, it was. We’ll call and thank him later, but right now I just want to get you to that hotel room and get this honeymoon started!”

     “Should we get going then?” Cas smirked at him, giving him the same wiggle of his eyebrows that Dean had given him before. Dean just laughed and opened the door for Cas to get in, then ran to the other side to hop in. 

     He put the car in reverse and turned to pull out of the lot, and got a look at the back seat, “Oh my god,” he sighed, but couldn't even help the laugh that escaped him, encompassing his whole body as Cas looked back too.

     Sam had not only taken the time to decorate the outside of the car, but also the inside. There was more confetti and streamers in the back seat, along with bottles of champagne, several cases of beer, and a very unnecessary amount of condoms scattered all over the back of the car. 

     It took them awhile to stop laughing at the state of the back seat, both had tears streaming down their faces before they were able to catch their breaths again. And after their fit of laughter, Dean leaned over the seat to put his hand around the back of Cas's neck and pulled him in close. “You know, he is right about one thing.

     “What's that?”

     Dean smiled, leaning in to rub his nose against his husband’s, “Finally.”

     “Finally,” Cas agreed, and moved in to kiss Dean soundly once more, before taking his hand while Dean drove out of the parking lot.

End

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A/N: Hope y’all enjoyed it, always more to come <3 And if you wanna be tagged for furture Destiel posts just let me know <3

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 10

Word Count: 3,308

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders (more to come)

Notes: I want to thank everyone that reached out to say how much they enjoy this series and that they wanted to keep reading it. It meant a lot and I read each comment, ask and reblog. You guys are the absolute best!!! I’m not sure if I tell you that enough, but I truly love all my readers and followers. So with that being said, here’s part 10. Happy Reading to all! 

You were feeling quite better after your little tryst with Mat at the stadium. In fact, if you were being honest, he'd made you forget about anyone else that you'd been with since the bubble. Well maybe not everyone, but you were definitely feeling like your old self again. Grabbing a glass of wine, you drew a bubble bath so that you could just soak your cares away. You even lit a couple of candles to give the room that nice glow. As you sunk into the warm water, you could feel all the stress of the last several weeks, just melting away. That was until your phone rang.

 You grabbed it off the side of the tub, flipping it over to see Tyler's name. When his number had popped up the last couple of days, you'd hit decline. However, this time you accepted his facetime. "Hey, Ty."

 "(Y/N), baby, where have you been? Are you dodging me on purpose?"

 "No, I would never." The lie slipped easily off your tongue. It wasn't that you were avoiding Tyler. It was just that you needed some time, and apparently Mat Barzal to get back to yourself. Maybe if Tyler was here, it would've been him to do that, but he wasn't; he was in Edmonton. "I've just been super busy here, though Carly convinced me to take the day off."

 "Well, you deserve the day off. Though I thought you were avoiding me, now that you can't win that bet."

 Ugh, sometimes you hated how cocky he was. "Are you sure I lost?"

 A look of betrayal crossed his face and it had you regretting saying anything. "Are you saying you slept with Crosby?"

 "That's for me to know."

 "And for me to try and find out." He finished the thought for you.

 "I thought you wanted to cancel that bet anyhow." You distinctly remember him saying something about that in one of your conversations. "Or now that the Pens are out, is it a different story?"

 "No, I'm still for canceling it. I don't see why we both can't win." There was a twinkle in his eye and you had to wonder what he meant.

 "Do I even want to know what you're thinking?"

  "Hear me out," he said bringing the phone a bit closer to his face and you had to laugh at the seriousness you saw there. "What if the next time we're together, it's just not a twenty-four-hour thing? What if it's a lot longer than that?"

 "What exactly are you asking Ty?"

 "I don't know. That maybe we just sort of, spend more time together. I miss you."

 His sad little puppy dog eyes were getting to you, but you still found yourself saying. "But we're friends with benefits, Ty. We've always been that."

 "Well…maybe we should change that." Oh well, this was new, though you weren't sure how he wanted to change it. Most of the year you lived in two separate countries. And this year, who knew when he would be back in Canada. He may end up having to stay in the states.

 "And how would we do that Ty? We're literally in two separate places."

 "Well, if we're still in the playoffs when things transfer over to Edmonton, why don't you come here and we can talk about what we want to do then."

 This is definitely a conversation that you wanted to have face to face, and not over facetime. "And what if you're not in the finals?"

 "Wow you have no faith in me, do you?" Ugh, you regretted saying that but you wanted to know what the alternative was, especially if you still were in the bubble and he was out. At any rate, I'll fly straight from here to Toronto to be with you. I figure I could just stay in your suite until the bubble is done. " It would probably work since he was already inside of it in Edmonton.

 "You seemed to have it all planned out. Don't you?" You needed time to think about this, after all this was Tyler and you weren't sure the man was capable of doing a full-blown relationship, or if you even wanted to.

 "I mean…yeah kind of."

 "Are you sure you're not saying this, just because you're lonely and I'm the only one that will listen?" While things had seemed different with him over the last couple of weeks, you were still a bit skeptical of his motives. Besides, you weren't sure what kind of spell Sidney had weaved on you but you'd just gotten over that or had you, and to give that kind of power to Tyler could be deadly.

 "Look, I'm going, to be honest. There are a few women here that I could be with, but I was thinking about this, you and me, long before I was trapped in this bubble. I told you before you're the only woman that could make me settle down." There was a seriousness not only to the tone of his voice but also the look on his face. You wondered what yours was giving away, and tried to mask your features.

 "Well, I think this is something we should talk about, but definitely in person." At least this would let you stall so you could decide what you actually wanted to do, and you could still have some more fun while you were in the bubble. "So I'll agree to you either coming here or me going there once the conference finals come around."

 "That's all I can ask for, baby." His cute smile was definitely a turn-on and mentally you put that in the pro column for possibly being in a relationship with him. "Hey, where are you? Because it looks like you don't have a top on?" And that right there was what went on the con side.

 "I'm in the tub, remember I said before Carly convinced me to take the day off."

 "Oh, I definitely should've been more observant before," he stated his eyebrows raising up. "So, um…why don't you shift that camera down a little lower." You were waiting for him to say that, but you really didn't mind. Your times with Tyler were always fun and you were sure this would be no different. You found yourself moving the phone, just enough to show him that you were covered in bubbles though a taut nipple did peak out. "Mmm, what I wouldn't give to be in that tub with you. Those bubbles are lucky son of a bitches for getting to caress your skin the way they are."

 "And where and what might you be doing?"

 "Same place I always am, laying on my bed, just dreaming of you, but now I get to actually see you and it makes things so much better." He could be such a smooth talker at times. "Why don't you slide that one hand down baby. Just like if I was there." It was easy to just listen to his directions. His voice and the warm relaxing water turning you on. "You know I'd run my hands all over your body until I could slip it between your beautiful pussy." The fact that he could do these things to you over the phone, made you long for when one of you would be out of this bubble and you could make it a reality. "Just glide a finger back and forth between your cunt baby." A sigh left your lips. "That's it, just like it was my hand doing it. Now, rub your clit. I know how that turns you on. Just slow circles, babe, not too fast. Can't have you cumming just yet."

 "Mmm…it feels so good Ty."

 "Wanna rub it a little faster for me?" His breath hitched as he spoke the words and you obeyed his words with ease. "Slide a finger inside, babe."

 "OOOhhh," you moaned out, your head going back and water starting to slosh around as your hips jerked up.

 "That's it…god your so gorgeous." Water dripped off your skin, as you grew flush from the heated water and your ministrations, and you could only imagine what you looked like as you tried to hold the phone steady and not drop it in the tub. "Let it slide in and out of that pussy." Your fingers followed his command. You could tell that he was stroking his cock, as his free arm came in and out of view of the screen when he pumped it. It turned you on even more, as you worked your pussy over. "Are you getting close babe?"

 "Yes," your voice now echoing off the bathroom walls.

 "Press your thumb on your clit." He knew the action would make you cum quickly, so he must have been close as well.

 "Fuck, Ty." Though you'd already had one orgasm earlier, your legs felt that familiar tingle as your second one of the day started to build.

 "That's it, baby, keep going. Cum for me."

 "Oh…yes…Oh," a mixture of incoherent moans came out of your lips, as you started to climax. You could hear water, spill over to the floor, but you didn't care.

 "Fuck (Y/N)," you heard Tyler say and you could tell he was cumming with you. There was silence on the line for several heartbeats as the two of you both tried to recover. "God, I have never seen anything more beautiful than when you cum."

 "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

 "What? Of course, it is." He sounded offended by your comment. "Why wouldn't it be?"

 "Well maybe because it seems like I'm not beautiful other times."

 "(Y/FullN), you are the most stunning person I have ever seen and it doesn't matter if you have nine hundred layers on or nothing at all. I will tell you that you're the most beautiful woman in the world, every day if you let me." He was definitely trying to score points now and you had to say it was working.

 Now, you kind of felt like you were fishing for a compliment. "Ok, I take it back." You said with a giggle. "You know, you're pretty amazing yourself there."

 He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I know."

 "And conceited," you teased.

 "It's not conceited, it's confidence baby." You rolled your eyes, but you supposed it was true. The man was so sure of himself that it practically oozed out of his pores, though you knew that deep down he still needed reassurances as we all did.

 "Ok, Mr. Confidence, well this girl needs to get out of the water now that I'm officially a wrinkled prune."

 "I'm not stopping you. Just keep the phone where I can see you." You shook your head, but still somehow managed to get out of the tub and dried off with him still on FaceTime. The two of you stayed up for the next couple of hours just talking about anything and everything. For once in his life, Tyler held nothing back from you and by the end of the night, he knew that you'd been fooling around with some of the guys that were in the hotel, but he didn't seem to care. All that mattered to him was that in the end, he still had a shot with you. It was refreshing and not the Tyler you were used to. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you started to wonder if things with him could really work out in the long run.

 The next morning, you woke up invigorated from your day off. Carly had known exactly what you needed and you headed downstairs bright and early to thank her, only to be sidetracked by Logan. "(Y/N), thank god you're here. The place is a disaster. I don't know what to do."

 This was not what you needed to walk into after your day off, but knowing Logan it was probably some minor problem that you could fix in a minute; two if there was an actual problem. "Calm down. Take a deep breath. I'm sure whatever it is we can solve the problem in no time." He did as you said and you could see the tension just roll off his body. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

 "There's a busted water pipe on floor eighteen and it's flooded one room and going into another, but you're right it's not that big of a deal."

 "NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL! Jesus, Logan, why didn't you say the hotel is falling apart." You quickly wiped out your phone as you headed up to the eighteenth floor, calling maintenance as you went. Luckily, they were already shutting off the water by the time you got there. "What the hell happened? This is practically a brand-new hotel." The pipes barely had dust on them, let alone rust or anything that could corrode them. The room where the pipe had busted was a complete disaster. There was water everywhere, down the walls, completely soaked into the mattress, even in the ceiling. Wait, now that you looked at the ceiling there was a huge hole in it. Who's room was this? The eighteenth floor was one of the ones the Canes were staying on, so it had to be one of them. They were a rowdy bunch, but you thought they kept their antics on the ice.

 "We shut the water off, (Y/N)." Frank one of the maintenance men told you. "But it's gonna take a day or two, to fix it, as we don't have the supplies here. I'll have to shut it off to the other two rooms next to it as well. Luckily, the damage seems to be only in this room."

 "Thanks, Frank, I owe you one for getting it shut off so quick. Have Carly help you get whatever you need. She's good at putting a rush on things."

 "Will do." You looked around surveying the damage. There would have to be new furniture put in this room as it was utterly destroyed, along with the carpeting and the bedding. And then you spotted it. A hockey stick laying on top of the bed, the end coated in plaster.

 Some of the players had gathered outside and if you hadn't been in such a rush to get here, you would've looked at the room number for who to go after. After your relaxing day yesterday, today was turning into a disaster. Carly, somehow pushed her way through several hulking men to get to you. "Frank just told me." Her eyes got big as saucers as she took in the damage. "Holy fuck." Those words seemed adequate. You grabbed her by the shoulder and she seemed to shake herself out of a stupor.

 "What room number is this?"

 "Eighteen twenty-three." Slowly you turned around looking for the guilty culprit, and there he was, all six foot four of him standing there in saturate clothes and looking quite sheepishly. Joel Edmundson, the crop top king, if you recalled from your conversation yesterday with Carly. The only thing was he wasn't the only one that was drenched, standing beside him were Dougie Hamilton and Andrei Svechnikov. "Just breathe," Carly whispered. "Getting upset will do nothing, plus you've got bigger problems."

 "Bigger problems, then a gaping hole in a roof with water soaking the room."

 She shrugged her shoulder innocently. "Well, if Frank is right and we're going to need a couple days to fix this. You need to find three rooms in what's already a completely booked hotel." Damnit, she was right. You were already at max capacity and didn't have a room to spare. You realized that it was a great opportunity for the hotel when they'd been chosen to host the Stanley Cup Playoffs, but you were really starting to wonder if the NHL had a personal vendetta against you when it made the decision to keep this hotel completely occupied the entire time.

 "What am I going to do?"

 "You could send them over to Royal York."

 "Are you kidding me? I'd sooner cut off my left arm, then send them back there." It wasn't that Royal York was a bad hotel, but there was definitely a little rivalry between you and the manager over there. It was a friendly competition on who could handle all these NHL players, but you wanted to be the victor here.

 "They could always move into the suite with you. You have two extra rooms, though someone would have to double up." She eyed all of the men standing there silently outside the room, just waiting for you to explode. "Or someone could always sleep in your bed." She nudged you and then whispered low. "My votes for the crop top king." As much as you didn't want to admit it, he did sort of have that quality about him that appealed to you. Shit, what were you doing even thinking about her suggestion?

 "Two of them can room together, especially after making this mess."

 "Hmm, probably. Just don't rule my suggestion out."

 You gave her a look, the one that said you wouldn't be entertaining that thought, even though there was part of you that wanted to, then stepped out in the hallway to speak to the guys gathered there. "I'm sure you gathered that we have a bit of a…situation here. We're going to need to shut the water off in three rooms for a couple days." The three culprits all shared looks back and forth with each other, and you truly had to wonder what the hell they were trying to do that broke the damn water pipe. "If you're in room twenty-one, twenty-three, and twenty-five we're going to need to relocate you." As you said the names, you realized that the guilty party just so happened to be the same guys that needed to be relocated. "If you could just pack up your things, I'll get someone here to move you."

 All the other players dispersed to their rooms, and finally, Joel came up to you. "Look we're really sorry. We understand if you have us sleeping in cots in the basement or something for the next couple of days."

 He sounded so sweet and, well innocent wasn't the right word, but maybe sincere, that you found yourself saying, "No, we'd never do something like that, but I will need two of you to stay in the same room. There are two queen beds in the one so it's not like you'll have to share."

 "That's not a problem, Svech and I can room together." Joel offered, putting his arm around his teammate.

 "I'm sure a lot of your stuff is ruined, from the water. I can have housekeeping take care of all your laundry, but if you could just grab your other things."

 "Sure, no problem. Just give us like twenty minutes and we'll be ready."

 The three of them disappeared while you made phone calls to housekeeping, letting them know to make this a priority and that they would also be needing to clean up the other rooms in your suite over the next few days. Sure enough, twenty minutes later they had all their gear gathered up. "So, where are we headed to?" Dougie asked as you all stepped into the elevator. You hit the penthouse floor button.

 "My suite." Glances were exchanged and you didn't miss them checking your body up and down appreciatively. "You'll be staying with me until your rooms can be cleaned up."

 "If I would've known that, I would've broken the pipe earlier," you swore you hear Joel mumble, and you had to laugh. The next couple of days were definitely going to be something. You just weren't sure what kind of something.  

[dimensionwriter]

Wings of Love

Male Dragon x GN! Reader

Warning: None, just usual fluff

Word Count: 3,266

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Remember to like, reblog, and comment. Thank you.

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Rain drops lightly dusted the small village. The village was filled with children running around with their mouth open trying to catch raindrops, parents trying to run errands, and elders idly chatting with each other about the olden times.

The forest outlined the right side of the village with small random openings where most villagers go during times of boredom or special occasions. To the left, for miles upon miles there were fields that the farmers used to harvest all the village's food.

But far off in the distance, there sat the tallest mountain that was covered in black charcoal rocks with no signs of life on it. There thrive no plants nor animals, for they may know what lies it in.

Centuries ago, the village told tales of how there lived a monstrous dragon that was almost as tall as the mountain. Teeth bigger than yourself and so sharp that it could shred you as if you were wet paper. Wings strong enough to lay trees flat in a forest for miles with only one flap. It's skin was eerie green that allowed the beast to blend in with the tree, that way it was easier to capture any foolish child that wandered into the forest. Soulless black eyes that showed signs of no morals, for a beast like itself didn't need them.

That was the story that every person brought into the village was told. Until the beast actually came from the mountain to the village. As expected, the village was thrown into shambles with screams of scared children, worried parents, and fearful men.

As the villagers prepared themselves for the worst, the dragon simply lowered it's head. The villagers grew weary of the supposedly neutralizing action.

The dragon opens its mouth to reveal those flesh shredding sharp teeth. There was no doubt that this was the dragon from the tales. It was him, with his head bowed.

He began to speak softly in broken English. He spoke of wishing to end the fearful image of himself and instead hope to reside peacefully with the humans. All this said with his head still bowed.

That day is now celebrated as Dragon Birth, for it was the beginning of an era of peace between the supposed monstrous dragon and the village.

Due to the agreement of peace being made, the dragon showed itself a lot more to the village. At first, they still feared him, but as the time went on and the children grew into adults and the leaves all fell from the tree, the dragon became a part of the village.

"History of the Dragon Village? Trying to look up our history," someone joked, pulling the book out of your hand. You blinked slowly trying to get your eyes adjusted to looking at shape instead of words.

Today felt like a great day to just sit under a tree and enjoy the nice warm weather. On your way here, you stopped by the library to just pick up a random book to enjoy while you just simply existed in nature.

Brandon, the idiot who decided to snatch your book out of your hand without having the audacity to save your page, was the son of the butcher in the village. He could sometimes be very eccentric, but was overall a nice company to come around.

"Can't you read something, I don't know, more interesting," he asked spinning on his bare feet in the grass. He started walking off in a direction opening the book. Letting out a fake cough, he began to read from the book.

"The once weary villagers begin to see the dragon as a protector over the village. As a change in view, the Sunset Village changed their name to Dragon Village." He stopped as he doubled over in laughter.

Grabbing at the bark of the tree, you lifted yourself off the ground. Brandon continued to laugh as he stumbled over to you. You gave him a curious smile to try to understand what could evoke such a joyous reaction.

"This village sucks at naming things. Uhhh, we see the sun going down, so why not name it sunset village? Perfect. Wait, we befriended a dragon now. Whelp, change that to dragon village. What about when the dragon dies? Are we going to become ex-Dragon village or We had a dragon village."

A snort of laughter slipped out at you from Brandon's overexaggerated faces. He always told jokes with such a passion for it. This is what made his company so welcoming.

"How about, he gone village?" you joked along bumping his shoulder. He bent over backwards as laughter spilled out of him. He grabbed his stomach as he continued to repeat your new village name. Brandon was so easy to make laugh, but one could not help but feel proud at getting such a reaction to a joke you made.

"I haven't laughed that hard all day," he said wiping the tears from his eyes. He handed you back the book with a smile on his tan skin. Brandon was known to be the handsomest boy in the village. He was, but he just didn't interest you.

All males and females knew he was hot. But, he just seemed plain. Being absolutely honest, none of the villagers caught your eye. There were some nice people, but no one you were willing to marry. Sadly, that time was coming so soon.

"I came over here to tell you that my mom said she got some new flower seeds if you're interested," he said, turning his head to the sky. His light green eyes reflected the tiny wisps of clouds flowing past.

"Really, tell her I said I'll come over by noon," you said showing your excitement as you slowly lowered yourself back to the ground. Brandon's mom sometimes asked you to help her with her garden since she's too old to do it now. And it somehow resulted in her being your flower partner. She always came to you about any new flower she saw or read about or received. It was absolutely adorable.

Brandon gave a curt nod before spinning on his heels and running back into town. He was always so full of energy no matter where the sun stood in the sky.

Flipping through the pages of the book, you tried to find where you stopped off. It ended with the agreement of peace between the dragon and the village.

Just as you saw the paragraph you stopped, a huge gust of wind blew the book out of your hand. That wasn't no normal air gust. That was the winds from something that could flatten miles of trees with a single beat of wings

The dragon hasn't been seen in days. You thought maybe it took to hibernating early or was flying around the world. If you had the ability to, you would.

Lifting your head to the sky, there it was. The protector of the village, Kaos the dragon. He was more majestic than this silly history book could put into words.

He landed a couple of meters away from you, near the edge of the patch of open space. His body was full of muscles, even though he was centuries old. His green scales are just as vibrate as always.

His legs folded underneath him and he laid his head gently on the ground. He tails rose up before laying down over his side.

Was he resting? Is he okay? Of course he is, he's a dragon. Maybe you could ask him?

Tucking you book into a small bag you brought, you begin to sneakily make your way over to the dragon. You were sure if he wanted to, he could sense you. But not a single scale on his body has moved.

His breathing was quite calm, not quite as heavy as you thought. He appears to be sleeping. Does he really trust your village so much as to just choose a random place out in the open to sleep?

His scales seemed so sharp and firm, but the way they move with his breathing seem to make them appear as liquid. His entire body seemed to be a weapon, but he carried himself as if he was nothing more than a delicate flower.

To be honest, you've always been curious about your town's protector. You were one of the unlucky ones who never got a chance to talk to him. During your youth, while all the children were playing with Kaos, you stayed in your house studying or working. As you got older, you found yourself with a packed schedule. So your only interaction with Kaos was walking past him or seeing him off in the distance.

This may actually be the closest you have ever been to him. And it's truly a humbling experience.

"You can touch them if you're curious." A soft grumbly voice spoke out. His voice reminds you of hearing thunder miles away. Something so powerful, but with restraint.

"Sorry," you yelled, stumbling away. How did you notice you woke him? How foolish of you. Obviously, he's a high class predator who would be disturbed by a prey coming closer.

"It's fine. Are you a traveler from far away?" Kaos asked, lifting his head closer to you. His snout was covered with a long scratch going from the tip of his nostril close to his left eyes. His eyes seem to hold all the night within them. A marvelous creature.

"Oh, no. I grew up here," you said, feeling disappointed at not being noticed. Kaos knew everyone who resides in the village. But he doesn't know you. Of course he doesn't.

"Oh, I sincerely apologize," he yelped, getting on his feet and turning his entire body in front of you. He stood so much taller than you. You were barely the height of his legs. "How could I forget a villager?"

"It's not your fault. I never really interacted with you before today," you admitted shyly. His head tilted to the side and he lowered himself to the grown. Cautiously he folded his legs under himself, but kept his neck and head up.

"Well, that's a shame. You seem like such an interesting person," he said smiling softly at you. How can a beast seem so gentle?

"Oh, I'm not really interesting. I mean I am nothing but a mere human from a small village," you said splaying your hands out to your home village. You didn't hate your village. You honestly loved every person in here. But some days, the only interesting things in the village seem to be how time moves so slow.

"Humans are absolutely wondrous creatures. You are always changing and moving. Every obstacle you face, you take it head on," he spoke with such pride in his voice. He really viewed humans at high status. But why for?

"How about this little human? Since I somehow missed getting to know you, would you mind entertaining this dragon for an afternoon. I would love to hear about you."

You open your mouth to tell that he would obviously be bored. But the way his head tilted and a small smile spread onto his mouth. It made you stop yourself.

"Um, guess I should start from the beginning. I do apologize if I bore you," you stuttered out. Kaos let out a laugh that reverberated through your soul.

"You humans can never bore me," he mumbled, nudging you gently with his clawed finger. You let out a flustered laugh of your own at the indirect compliment.

So, you spent the rest of your afternoon talking to Kaos on your existence. He asked you all about your hobbies and even went deeper on why you enjoyed them.

The sun slowly went down the horizon and painted the sky in an array of colours. Even though the sky looked absolutely beautiful, it was nothing compared to the soft pink glow reflecting off of his earthly green skin. How can something so dangerous look so pure?

"I do not understand how you assumed you would bore me," he whispered, craning his neck to look at you again. You looked down in overwhelming embarrassment.

This magnificent creature paid attention to whatever you said. You were sure that the tale of your boring and tedious life would cast a sleeping spell on him, but he was alert the entire time. How could he care so much about a simple human like you?

"I mean, probably compared to your tales, mines dull in comparison," you said brushing him off. He shook his head at you with a small smile stretching up his snout. The pink light reflected off his teeth making them shine like freshly buffed jewels.

"My tales consist of me living in a cave and sleeping. And a few of me flying around in the air. I think the most interesting thing that has happened was a tiny bird attacking me." A small giggle escaped your mouth before you could stop it. The thought of Kaos' face as the bird attacked him was just too humorous .

"Apologies," you said, trying to stop your laughter. A playful smirk painted onto Kaos' face as he stared at you through his peripheral.

"It's fine. I can laugh it off now. The little rascal was angry because the wind from my wings caused him to stumble through the air. It really was a shame that he had sharp talons," he grumbled with his lips pouted. You didn't know it was possible for a dragon to pout, but now that you did, you could put it down as one of your weaknesses.

He reached one of his paws up and rubbed at the scar going down his snout. Wait a minute…was that scar…and the bird?

You didn't mean to laugh as hard as you did. By the way Kaos jumped at you sound, told you that he wasn't expecting the laughter. The giant green tail stood at attention for a few seconds before falling back down.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, but a few giggles still managed to escape past your lips. Even though the laughter was unexpected, it still left you with this happy fuzzy feeling that seemed to be spreading throughout your body.

"I'm sorry, sir," you giggled softly. You uncrossed your legs and let your body fall softly onto the cool grass. The sun had almost completely disappeared under the horizon, but it barely registered in your head. "My mind came up with this hypothesis that it was… simply a bird that caused that scar on your face."

His paw lifted up again and ran against the scar. He seemed to be careful of the claws on his fingers and used more of the soft pads.

"Sadly, you hypothesize true," he grumbled tilting his head away from you. You don't think he took into how much space he occupied, because even with his head turned, you saw a good portion of his face. And you almost didn't believe your eyes when a slight purple hue began to spread onto his cheeks.

"A bird did that to you!" You exclaimed in disbelief. Kaos nodded his head in embarrassment before trying to hide his face under his folded arms. The purple colour darkened due to his confession and trailed down to the top of his neck. The scales in that area were a lot thicker, so it covered up the spreading colour more.

"I didn't want to hurt the tiny creature, so I tried my best to blow a little air on him to get me to leave me alone. Next thing I know, one of his talons is heading straight towards me." A small puff of air escaped from his lips from his light laughter. It was a good thing that he could laugh about this now.

The moon light filtered through the clouds in small sprays of spotlights. One appeared over Kaos, highlighting his warm green scales in a soft blue light. Seeing him in this new lighting made him feel more real. You've always held him on a pedestal, but he's just an average… dragon.

"Human," he purred out, turning his head towards you. He was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath fanning against your cool skin. It felt so nice and safe to be here. Quite ironic how you felt this way while being surrounded by such a majestic and powerful creature. "It should be close to your time of rest. Is it not?"

Your eyes glanced up at the moon rising even higher into the sky. However, your eyes preferred to look into the midnight black eyes of Kaos. Their radiance shined brighter than any star or moon in the sky.

The corner of his mouth lifted up. He pressed the tip of his nose into your foot. The nudge was so light and careful, but the playfulness was present.

"Go home. Please, rest." How could you resist him when he looked at you like that? The scales around his mouth slowly glistening from being pushed along with his hooded eyes

You had to push down the desire to throw a tantrum and wrap your arms around Kaos and beg for him to stay. You are not a child. You just need to be mature about this.

Silently, you reached over and pushed your borrowed book into your bag. A few of the pages' edges were wrinkle due to the powerful wind from Kaos' wings. Even though you were still there with him, it felt nice that there was something you could remember this meeting by.

"It was nice of you to entertain me for the evening. Thank you so much, Kaos," you whispered staring down at the ground. His body shifted around until he was facing you.

"You do plan on visiting me again tomorrow, right?" You couldn't help the shock expression that came onto your face. This moment truly felt like a dream and he would allow you to indulge in it for longer. "I have many sun and moon passings to make up for."

You couldn't stop the smile coming onto your face. Nothing but pure happiness flowed fervently through your veins. Good thing the darkness covered your current state, seeing as you could feel the heat rushing to the tip of your ears and across your face.

He lowered his head a little and nudged your stomach with his nose. A laugh escaped out of you at his actions. "You are tempting me to converse more with you. Go now, human. When you return when the sun rises, I will be right here."

You nodded while taking a step back. You began your quick journey back into the town. It was barely visible now since most of the candle lights were now out in their houses.

Before reaching the edge, you spun around towards the clearing. Standing at full height with his wings lightly beating in the silver moonlight was the magnificent Kaos. But even with the distance, you felt a little closer to him.

You gave a parting wave before running back into town. The sound of your feet hitting the rocky pavement was the only sound around.

Although, you barely notice as you let the full smile come onto your face. A few victorious jumps may have happened, but the only witness was the moon and calm spirits of night. For nothing could ruin this joyous moment for you.

"Wait a minute. Brandon's mom!"

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I'm so happy about this story. I've always wanted to write about a dragon and I did it. It may have took me almost a year to finish it, but here it is. I'm kind of proud of how this came out.

Thank you so much for reading. Please leave a like and comment about anything. I love to read comments. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.💜💜💜

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 10 (Finale)

“Under the Knife” - Part 10 (Finale)

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3,800-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, talk of violence, talk of death

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: Well, we are finally at the final chapter. This has been such an incredibly challenging story to work on, but I have learned so much from this process that will no doubt help shape my future stories.

Thank you to all of the readers who have liked, reblogged, commented, messaged, and reached out to me. This has been the best response I’ve gotten on a story and it has filled me with a level of appreciation that I wasn’t expecting. <3 

With the sappy stuff out of the way, please enjoy the final chapter of “Under the Knife.”

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled​ @germansarechill​ @rentheanonymous​ @liadamerondjarin

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“Taking into account that Henry Urik was left-handed, I was able to throw my head back, causing him to falter, and then lean to my right in order to escape his grasp and not have my throat sliced open. This gave me enough time to get back to the table and get my hands on the gun.” 

“Unfortunately, the gun was empty. It’s common for killers to use unloaded or fake guns as intimidation techniques with their victims. My mistake gave Henry enough time to stabilize himself and grab hold of me again, resulting in a mild concussion and being knocked unconscious until a few hours later. Luckily Dr.Lecter was able to fight, thus saving me until Special Agent Crawford and his team could come.” You looked around and saw a few people taking notes while others just nodded their heads. Checking your watch, you saw that you had a few more minutes left to fill up. “And with that, I have time for one or two questions before we leave.”

The lights faded up a little bit, nothing too harsh for you. You quickly scanned over the larger than the normal crowd in your lecture hall. 

The fact that you, a survivor of the Virginia Scalpel, were giving a lecture on the case had attracted the minds of not only your normal trainees but the higher-ups as well. 

It was a slightly dizzying feeling to see the faces of management in your lecture hall, but that could also be the still healing minor concussion from a serial killer slamming you into a table a little less than a week ago. Either way, you took this time to sit on your desk and drink some water as you pointed to one of the trainees in the first row.

“I don’t want to bring up anything too triggering, ma’am, but I--”

“Kid, if I wasn’t okay enough to jump back into the shitstorm named Henry Urik, I wouldn’t have agreed to be here today.” A scattering of chuckles echoed through the hall. You were glad to hear that your lighthearted comment helped ease the tension in the room. “Please, continue. I’ll be okay, I promise.” The agent nodded and took a breath, whatever they were going to ask must have been weighing on their mind enough to scare them. You could tell that they were trying to hide it, but your ability to read people's subtleties was strong.

“Thank you, ma’am. I wanted to ask for your advice. What should we be aware of if we’re ever in a similar situation with an unstable or unpredictable suspect? What do we do?” 

You nodded and thought for a moment before you responded. You had a feeling that this type of question would come up now or through an email later on. Fiddling with your ring, you spoke.

“To be honest, you have to be able to assess everything at the moment. I may have seemed to have a handle on the situation externally, but internally? I was a quivering, frantic, and terrified mess. With Henry’s focus being solely on me, I knew I couldn’t just sit there. I knew that if I froze, it could have cost not only my life but also Hannibal’s.” You took a deep inhale through your nose before continuing. The thought of losing Hannibal hurt your heart. “My advice: really focus on the suspect. What are they saying? How are they saying it? What are they doing? Are there any mannerisms o-or phrases that hint at any sort of soft spot?” 

You held up a finger and turned to your computer, scrolling back through your presentation until you found the slide you were looking for. It was a diagram showing how all of the victims tied to Henry as well as Henry’s symptoms. You turned back towards your class.

“While I knew a majority of this information before my encounter with Dr.Urik, I only knew the facts at face value. When he and I talked about his experiences with all of these doctors, Henry let his anger and annoyance towards these men out. His voice changed from the seemingly calm and confident man that had just had a gun pointed at me, to a frustrated patient who just wanted answers that he believed in.”

“Now if we want to talk about more physical tells, that is the premise for another lecture entirely. You can tell a lot about a person without either of you having to utter a word.”

You looked at the trainee, they were watching you, truly listening to everything you had to say. From the almost unnoticeably tensed jaw to the stiff posture, this future agent was using all of their power not to tremble in fear at the thought of being in a scenario like this. You saw the fear in their eyes.

“As long as you breathe, remember your training, and let yourself fully assess the situation at hand, you’ll do the best you can do. Trust me, there were two very distinct moments that night where I thought and accepted the possibility that I was going to die. That’s a risk we all take with this job. But I focused on what I could do next and kept going. And that’s what you’ll learn throughout your time in training and in the field. You cannot stop, you have to keep going.”

You ended with a smile directly to the trainee to try to calm their nerves even a little bit. They visibly took a deep breath and nodded, giving you a quiet “thank you” before writing something in their notebook. Your saw movement out of the corner of your eye. Will and Hannibal were now standing off to the side, letting you know that you were almost done. Will was more rigid than usual. You assumed he heard the part about accepting death and he did not like that thought. 

Hannibal caught your eye as he tapped his watch. Nodding, you looked back to the class, prepared to dismiss them. That was until you saw a hand near the back. Before you could say or do anything, the man with the raised hand spoke. 

“How were you able to confirm the Scalpel’s motive? What stood out with him that made him suspect number 1?” You took a slightly larger breath as you realized it was one of the assistant directors speaking. Blinking a few times and gathering your thoughts you tried to sound as professional as you could. 

“Well, we originally were looking for an active doctor. Someone who could have access to the equipment and drugs needed for these killings. But then we realized that it could be a former doctor who was now a patient of these doctors.” You gestured to the slide projected behind you. “As for motive, we could only theorize until we talked to Henry himself. And while talking to him face-to-face last week revealed a lot, we cannot actually confirm anything when it comes to his psyche.”

“But you said it yourself, he was frustrated at the answers that these doctors had given him. So wouldn’t the Virginia Scalpel murders be crimes of passion, making his motive emotional overload?” The man spoke. You were thrown off just a bit, but found your way back to correct wording.

“They actually weren’t crimes of passion. Those are usually impulsive and emotionally driven. The Virginia Scalpel crime scenes, especially that of Dr.Pencalt and his wife, showed us that Henry was methodical and purposeful.” 

“Yes, there could have been an emotionally charged aspect to it. He was upset with these men. I theorized with Dr.Lecter and Special Agent Crawford that these killings could have been some sort of pain relief for his headaches. The act of slaying these men took all of his focus, alleviating the pounding in his head.” 

“At one point, he said that killing was a form of mercy and life could be considered torture. So he could very well have just wanted to spare them from this mortal coil. Or maybe Henry saw these murders as a way of honoring them. Maybe there was even a thrill-seeking aspect that he got a kick from.” You stood up from your spot on your desk, feeling yourself getting a bit weary after so much talking over the last hour or so, and tried to politely wrap this all up.

“Where I’m going with this is the fact that we can theorize all we want-- Hell, we can even settle on what we believe his motive was. But that’s all it’ll be: A belief. We will never truly know because Dr. Urik was found dead in the woods behind his former office building, stabbed a handful of times, and had enough of his own paralytic drug in his system to take down an ostrich.”

They were out of your sightline, but Hannibal and Will both smirked at how well you had handled the situation. It wasn’t often that managerial positions were proven wrong in front of a classroom full of people. However, both of their smiles slowly fell as the assistant director continued.

“I guess his death is a breath of fresh air, right? You can sleep at night knowing that the Virginia Scalpel is no longer out there. No more target on your back.” The assistant director tried to say that as a lighthearted joke. Something to lighten the mood. But you forced a pained smile and spoke your mind.

“Yes. I am thankful that I don’t have to worry about a scalpel cutting into my cheek again, or almost slicing my throat, or finding Dr. Lecter chopped into pieces in his bed or maybe even Henry breaking his pattern and going after the last bit of family that I have left. I guess sleeping should be easier, shouldn’t it?” 

You looked directly at the man as you spoke, the gravity of your situation and the insensitivity of his statements hitting him. You shifted your gaze to the trainees that were in the first few rows and continued, straightfaced. 

“But I am curious as to what he would have to say and how that perspective could have helped us catch others like him. I hope that you all can find that same curiosity as I do. If we can catch them and talk to them, we could learn what makes them tick and get information that could help us catch the next one before it's too late.” You let a beat of silence pass, letting your words sink into the minds of the young ones. “Thank you all for your time. For questions regarding the Virginia Scalpel case, please contact Special Agent Crawford and he will see if you are authorized to view the file notes. If you need to reach me for any reason other than the Virginia Scalpel case, you all have my email. Stay safe out there.” 

You turned away from the class and shut down your computer, trying to gather your things as the room applauded. You raised a hand as a way of saying “thank you but please stop” and they all filed out of the room. 

“I think that went well despite Assistant Director Ass-Hat’s commentary at the end there” Will made his way to you, grabbing your jacket from the chair behind you and holding it in his hands, gripping it tighter than normal as if doing so would solidify in his brain that you were here and safe.

“Thanks. For someone with a shaken brain, I think I did pretty good today.” You joked back at your brother. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the beginnings of his brain spiraling with worry. 

If he was being honest, Will still hasn’t fully gotten over the events of last week. It was his exact fear almost coming true. And while he was forever thankful that you were alive today, he was worried that this near-death experience wouldn’t be enough to stop you from continuing to work active cases. The fact that you wanted to give this presentation so soon after you were released from the hospital validated his worry more and more.

“I still think it’s too soon for you to be back here.” 

“If you had your way, I would never step foot near this building again, Will.” You joke over your shoulder as you slide your laptop into your bag. “But I also think that that is just your way of trying to get me to be a 24/7 dog sitter.” Will huffed out a breath that sounded like a dry chuckle.

“I’m not saying that, but if you ask Winston or the others, I’m sure they would be all for that idea.” 

You finally turn fully to Will and lightly smack his arm. His face fades from a small smile to an unmasked face of worry as he looks down at the jacket in his hands that he is still fiddling with.

“I know this isn’t going to change your decision on whether or not you stay with Jack’s team, but I really don’t like that idea.” 

“You said the same thing the first time we had this conversation.”

“Yes, but that was before you got seriously injured while working a case.”

“I wasn’t seriously injured.” Will was going to interject, but you kept talking. “But I understand. What we do is dangerous. But I’m going to say the same thing I said last time: I have the chance to save lives, and that is a good enough reason for me to stay.” 

Before either of you could continue, Hannibal finally made his way over. His hand landed comfortably on your lower back for a long moment to alert you of his presence. 

You and Hannibal had talked about your mutual feelings for one another and agreed to start exploring a romantic relationship. That being said, you haven't told Will yet. Luckily, the gesture from Hannibal was easily passed as friendly to your unknowing brother.

“The assistant director wanted me to pass along his apology, (Y/N). He didn’t mean to insult you with his statements.” You waved your hand dismissively.

“I know he didn’t mean to. But it was a nice excuse to hand a ‘powerful male’ his ass in front of a whole room. I’m sure his ego will bounce back in no time.” You let a devilish smirk grace your features, earning a smile from Hannibal and a chuckle from Will. 

Hannibal looked to Will and saw how he was holding your jacket. Hannibal just offered his hand.

“I can take that, Will. You should go. You don’t want to be late for your own lecture. I will make sure your sister is safe.” 

The hospital discharged you, but you were still healing. The cut on your cheek was almost healed, but you kept a bandage on it to be safe. A scar would surely form, permanently reminding you of your first case. Most people would associate it with the fear of impending doom by the hands of a serial killer. But you were actually okay with it. You saw it as a reminder of what you were able to survive.

The most inconvenient thing was that you weren’t allowed to drive yourself. Between the healing concussion and the medications you were on, driving was not the safest thing. So Hannibal and Will took it upon themselves to compare schedules and be your drivers. 

When Hannibal had afternoon patients or had to work late on something, you would stay with Will. On days where Will was needed at work, you would stay with Hannibal. Sometimes you would stay in their homes, and sometimes they would crash on your couch. Well, Will would crash on your couch. Hannibal would share the bed with you, protecting you from anything that would try to get you physically or mentally. 

Even when you decided to stay at Hannibal’s home, you felt safe. The dining room was a bit haunting. But you knew that no matter what, if something felt off or if you were in any sort of danger, Hannibal would step up and help the best he could. 

Your boys (and the dogs) made sure you were safe no matter where you were.

 If there was anyone Will trusted to watch over you, it was Hannibal. He was the reason you weren’t the Scalpel’s ninth victim.

Will just nodded and struggled to hand over the jacket. Your heart ached because you knew how easily concerned he got when it came to you. But you could also see that he was trying to let go of some of that worry, letting himself see that Hannibal was a safe man to have in your life. You closed the gap between you and Will and wrapped your arms around him, feeling how tense and distraught he was. 

“I will text you as soon as I get home, alright?” Will nodded his head as he squeezed you just a bit tighter. You squeezed back, knowing he needed the reassurance. He pulled away and you patted his shoulder. “Don’t give your kids too much shit today.” 

You both snorted, knowing there was some truth behind the joke. Will said goodbye to Hannibal and left the room, leaving you and Hannibal alone. 

As much as you wanted to hurry up and get out of here, you had to lean against the desk as you zipped up your bag, really feeling your lack of energy now.

“Are you alright?” Nodding, you took a sip from your water bottle before speaking.

“Yes? Did a lot of talking and thinking today. I think I’m starting to get tired.” You let a chuckle-esque exhale come through your nostrils. “Gotta build my energy back up.”

Hannibal stood in front of you, gently placed your jacket down on the desk, and took one on your hands in his. To any normal person, it just looked like he was holding your hand to comfort you. But you knew him. He was gathering data: Pulse, temperature, if your hands were clammy, and whatever else he could find out. But he was also holding your hand to comfort you a little.

After determining your vitals to be manageable, he lifts his hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek for a moment.

“I think it's time to go home and rest, don’t you?” Hannibal proposed. You nodded and grabbed your jacket from next to you.

“My place or yours?”

“Your choice, my love.” You couldn’t help but smile at the new and special sobriquet that Hannibal had started using more frequently. Hannibal kissed the back of your hand before helping you stand up, putting your hand on his arm to guide you out.

“I think my place tonight. And maybe we can stop at the store on the way and you can finally show me how to cook something worthy of the esteemed food artist, Hannibal Lecter?” Hannibal smirked at your dramatics.

“Do you think you’ll have the energy for that?” 

“No. But I’d still like to try.” You leaned towards Hannibal and felt a pleading smile make its way across your face, knowing Hannibal was already going to agree to your idea. He still pretended to think it over before nodding. 

“That sounds like a lovely evening.” You felt yourself wiggle just a bit out of happiness, Hannibal smiled at the cuteness of the motion.

Hannibal reached out and touched the doorknob, but before he could open the door, you were distracted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. When you looked at the caller ID, your feet stopped moving and your heart dropped. You couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or excitement. Maybe a weird mix of both.

Hannibal turned to you, watching your face carefully as you answered.

“(Y/N) speaking.” 

“How you feelin’, (Y/N)?” You hadn’t heard Jack’s happy voice in a while. You weren’t sure if this one was real or fake. So you proceeded with caution.

“I’ve been better, but I’m also doing a lot better compared to a few days ago.” 

“Good. Good...” Crawford trailed off, his mind obviously on something else. 

There was an awkward silence. You knew Jack was trying to figure out how to phrase something without stressing you out after the last couple of weeks. You knew what that something was and you appreciated the effort to try and not overwhelm you, but you didn’t like this small talk part. So you took a deep breath before kick-starting the conversation that you knew Jack was trying to ease into.

“I get the feeling that this isn’t a social call, is it, Jack?”

“No. It is not, (Y/N). We have another odd case that we could use your help with.” 

You felt your thumb subconsciously go to wiggle your ring. You knew this conversation was going to happen eventually, but even knowing that didn’t lessen the anxiety you felt. Hannibal stepped closer and took your hand in his, lightly running his thumb across your knuckles. You knew he was trying to ease your mind with the small gesture. You mouthed “Thank you” to him and smiled. 

Jack continued before you could say anything. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now. But the sooner the better.”

“How about I get back to you tomorrow afternoon?” You stated more than asked. Jack agreed to that and hung up. Hannibal could see that you weren’t stressed but you also weren’t excited. 

“I take it Agent Crawford wants to borrow your mind again?” You nod your head, going back and forth in your mind about whether or not to take him up on his offer again or let yourself rest for a bit longer. “What’s stopping you from saying yes?”

“Not much to be honest.” You look at Hannibal and see him watching you, ready to react to anything you say or do. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“Could you be my partner, Hannibal?” You ask and almost fear his response. You didn’t want to be a burden. But very quickly you are met with that lovely rare smile of his. 

“It would be an honor to be your partner, in life and on a case.” You smile as you lean towards him and he meets you halfway, pecking your lips softly, his hand smoothing its way to your back. The two of you pull away and he ushers you out of the room. “After all, someone has to protect that beautiful and reckless mind of yours.” 

You shot Hannibal a look as the two of you walked to his car, ready for one more relaxing night before jumping right back into the chaos.

[shehath-awakened]

Beautiful Deaths: chapter three

A/N: here it issss, ahah. sorry this took me so long but thanks for hanging in there. finally came up with a title yayyy. once again thank you to all of you who are reading, liking, reblogging and commenting! i really love writing this and i hope you love the chapter :)

The following day, you shifted into the form of one of Rosa’s ex-girlfriends under the guise that you were ‘picking up some of your stuff’. this was Rosa’s idea and honestly, it was the best idea you both came up with after an entire night of brainstorming. 

***

“So, can you make yourself look like anything?” she said after the third drink. She was sitting backwards on an armchair with her legs up in the air, her head hanging off the seat. You were lying on the open floor on the rug looking up at Rosa, so your heads were nearly touching.

 “I guess, within reason. I haven’t tested it out that much. What’s your idea?” you looked at the upside-down detective, her black hair cascading to the floor. She told you her plan, her eyes not leaving yours for a moment.

 “How does that work anyway? The shifting? How do you do it?” you looked back up at the ceiling contemplating her question. In all honesty you didn’t really know. When you did try to work on your abilities, something could easily go wrong, and it had. Oh so many times...

 “I can't explain it,” you stated after a pause. “all I know is that if i think really hard about what I want to become... it just happens” you said with a shrug.

***

“God it’s weird to see you as my ex” Rosa exclaimed as you climbed off her bike when you had arrived at the precinct. You couldn’t help the slight hint of a smirk that came to your cheeks over this remark paired with the detective’s eyes moving over your body.

Taking off your helmet you looked over to her still holding the smirk and began walking into the building.

 “It won’t be for long, I just need time to come up with a more permanent solution” you loved the life you had built for yourself and you weren’t going to give it up that easily. Other people might wonder why you were being so paranoid, but, to your knowledge, your powers were unlike those of mutations, making you the only person in new york- potentially the world- with abilities like yours. You couldn't risk Shield taking you in for experimentation. The squad had been briefed on your temporary appearance the night before so none should be shocked when you walked into the bullpen. This, however did not stop Hitchcock forgetting and attempting to hit on you believing you were actually Rosa’s ex-girlfriend.

 Once that had all been sorted out, you and the squad met in the secret location Jake had come up with at the agreed upon time of 9:30 am. Of course, he had decided to come up with an overly elaborate code for everyone to solve revealing the location within the precinct which, unsurprisingly contained multiple Die-Hard references. No doubt Gina helped captain Holt with those sections as he was also there when you and Rosa arrived.

 “Great everyone is here” Jake began as you entered the covert room. “now, before we get to the boring stuff, tell me how awesome the clues were”

“Jake” Amy gently chastised him.

“right, (y/n)’s life is in danger yup” the detective corrected himself quickly.

 “unfortunately, we haven’t come up with a solution yet.” He continued, now looking directly at you. “Shields have such major ties within government and the NYPD that they’d be able to scout you out in a heartbeat.”

 “Is there not any way you can talk to them (y/n)? See what they want?” Boyle spoke up.

 “it’s too risky.” Rosa stated matter-of-factly. “we don’t actually know why they are looking for her, what if it's malicious?” she had an edge to her tone you noticed, what was it? Protectiveness? From then on you stood in silence whilst the squad bickered about what was the best plan of action. You were beginning to feel as the walls were closing in on you and your mouth had gone very dry, very quickly, that wasn’t good.

Once again you feel eyes on you as you look up and see the squad staring at you. You really needed to stop zoning out like that.

 “(y/n)? you okay?” Serg looked at you with concern in his eyes but also with that tint of fear he gets whenever Rosa is having one of her moments. You looked down and saw what the squad were staring at, your body had a green glow surrounding it. You realized that you had possibly been too deep in thought, you'd lost control before but twice in the past 24 hours was a new high score. You took a few deep breaths and the glow was gone as if it had never been there.

 You hesitated, not trusting yourself to speak without vomiting, this had all escalated so damn quickly. Why did you ever have to throw that goddamn chair?

“I-uh-um… I need some air” and with that you left the room stalking up to the bullpen and then onto the roof grabbing a glass of water on your way. For a while you just sat and looked over the streets of Brooklyn.

 How did I get myself into this situation? You internally cursed yourself. That was when you heard the door open and shut behind you.

 “(y/n)?” Jake's voice pulled you from your thoughts, you could hear that his voice, just like Terry's had been, was laced with concern. You turned around to see him slowly approach you as you would a distressed animal so you gave him a smile to let him know he could join you.

 Jake came to sit beside you with both your legs dangling off the ledge. You don’t know how long you two sat there in silence until you broke it.

 “I don’t know what to do.” You said, now using your own voice instead of the distorted one. “maybe Charles is right, maybe I should just go and speak to them? See what they want?” You wanted to sound brave but the quiver in your voice gave you away.

 “No. No I won’t let you do that. You heard Rosa. We have no idea what they really want with you”

 “It can’t be worse than running” you turned to look Jake in the eye. You were truly exhausted from all those years of hiding, pretending. He looked defeated, it hurt him that you were in this situation. Facing the impossible. You went to rest your head on his shoulder, relaxing for the first time in what felt like years. Jake captured your hand in his, holding it as though you would slip through his touch. Again, you sat in silence. You closed your eyes and listened to the traffic below you. The whirr of car engines, the sound of their horns, the civilians down below. Eventually you zoned in on the breathing beside you, the rhythmic intake and release of oxygen. You attempted to match Jake’s breathing to yours, perhaps in effort to be closer to him or to become invisible to the world.

 “Okay, I’m going to go back in there.” Jake broke the silence this time. “the squad and I will come up with something, I promise. We won’t let you down (y/n)” he gave your hand a squeeze and told you to come back inside when you were ready. You sat for a little longer, finishing your glass of water and then decided to return to the bullpen. 

*** 

 As soon as you re-entered the building you felt off. You couldn’t explain it but there was this surge of energy nearby, almost as though the air was filled with static electricity but only you could feel it. You looked around the bullpen and saw nothing out of the ordinary, that is until the elevator doors opened revealing a certain god of mischief.

“shit” you cursed under your breath and attempted to quickly make your way back to the squad. You had nearly made it out of the bullpen but you suddenly found yourself face to face with Loki. Disguising your voice once more you spoke to the god.

 “excuse me” you mustered your courage to look him in the eye hoping you had hidden yourself effectively enough so he couldn’t recognize you.

 “I do apologise miss—”

“Pryce, Jocelyn Pryce” you gave the name of your cover as Rosa’s ex.

“miss Pryce” Loki replied “I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the lavatories”

“Sorry, I don’t work here, you can ask one of the officers and they’ll be able to tell you” you said keeping yourself from running away at full speed like every sinew in your body wanted you to. “if you’ll excuse me I have to get—” you attempted to walk past but before you could take another step you felt his hand on your upper arm, not harsh, but firm enough to keep you from getting free.

 Still looking ahead of himself Loki spoke again.

“enough games lady, I know who you are. I simply want to have a chat” he said gently, but loudly enough for you to hear.

 Of course he knew, he knew yesterday when you were appearing as a fucking dog. Your heart began beating a mile a minute, you tried once again to walk away but Loki still held you, unyielding.

 “I wish you no harm, detective. The avengers do not even know I am here. I simply have a few questions I need answered.”

“so speaks the literal god of lies” you retorted your voice once again fading back to normal. Loki chuckled and looked you in the eyes.

“this is true, but something tells me you are a good judge of character”

You held his gaze, looking for any nuance of dishonesty in it. He was right, ever since you were little you had been able to read people extraordinarily well. It’s what made you such a good detective.

“okay” you finally gave in. “but not here” you looked to see if anyone was watching and took hold of his shoulder. Loki gave you a puzzled look but before he could comment you had teleported the two of you to where the rest of the squad were while also dropping the disguise.

 As you began to teleport the two of you however you felt a strong pull, no, more like a tug. Before you could react, you found yourself materializing right outside the avenger’s tower.

***

“what the hell, Loki?!” you growled under your breath. You got ready to teleport back to the precinct but Loki held you just above your elbow.

“I wouldn’t try going back, we just teleported a long way and from what I can tell you do not have the power right now” he warned. Loki was right, you even tried to don your disguise again but were too drained even for that. You glared at him.

“why the fuck did you bring me here? You said you only needed to ask a few questions” you tried getting away but he still held your arm and not moving.

“I had those questions answered for me when you began to teleport us. I wasted enough time stalling the avengers and had to bring you here, it is my job after all.” He answered, nonchalantly, which only angered you more.

“yeah and since when did you care about rules or orders, huh? I can’t be here, do you not get that?”

“actually this exactly where you need to be. Believe it or not, the team means you no harm, nor does shield. They wish to help you in fact.” This answer just made you scoff.

“help? Tell that to the enhanced that end up on the raft”

“from what I have witnessed today my dear, you are not simply an enhanced” he looked you dead in the eye and you stop attempting to get out of his grasp. You looked up at him, how could they know the difference between your abilities and that of the enhanced? They had seen you throw one chair. Of course you knew the difference but you sure as hell were not going to let them know.

“wait, what? What do you mean? Of course I am. What else would I be?” you laughed at the absurdity of this whole situation. In response Loki looked down at the floor then back at you.

“not here” is all he said. “I understand I haven’t done much to earn your trust, but I can tell you that the avengers simply want to help you control your powers”

“I can control them fine myself” you retorted defensively, in actual fact you knew you couldn’t. you had been lying to yourself for so long; it had been fine when you were little but as you grew, so did your powers but your knowledge on how to use them stayed the same.

“Stark has technology that reads energy surges in the city, we know about the lack of control.” Loki said dryly “

“oh,” this moment would have been comical if not for the threat to your freedom “I'm learning to control it. i just need t-“

Loki interrupted you by taking your hands in his cool ones, looking you in the eye.

“y/n what you need is a teacher. Your magic is powerful, strangely so for that of a midgardian. the avengers, as much as I loath to say this, can help…” Loki paused, debating whether to say anymore. “... I- I can help”

You looked into his emerald eyes, hoping to find some form of dishonesty so you could just go back to your old life. There was none. If it weren’t for Loki still having your hands in his they would have most definitely been shaking.

You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“okay” your voice came out barely as a whisper. “let’s go.” And with that, you walked into the elevator.

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[kinakoscenario]

Alastor x Demon! Reader ( SCENARIO ) Christmas Miracles.

꒰Alastor  ♡ Reader. ꒱ ゝ Hazbin Hotel

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘

New to Hell and struggling to let go of your mortality, you decide to convince your boyfriend to celebrate Christmas in Hell. 

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Request status in bio! Please check it before dropping something in my inbox. ♡ 

Thank you in advance for hearts, comments & reblogs on my work (◍＞◡＜◍) it’s always super appreciated.

› Alastor |   © Vivziepop ╱ I am in no way affiliated with Vivziepop & do not own the characters in this work unless stated otherwise.

Headcanons & Writing  | © Kinakoscenario ( Tumblr )

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𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄.  ↷

Hey, hey! Merry Christmas to those that celebrate it, I really wanted to do something with Alastor being soft and sappy with a Christmas-loving reader ;; w ;; i hope you enjoy this! 

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◍ To most everyone in Hell, Christmas was nothing more than an afterthought. Once you were dead, time was barely something that was monitored at all ━ It’s not like anyone was going anywhere. It was already over, what did you have to look forward to? What was the point? The only countdown that really mattered was the annual purge. Not really a holiday, not really something to celebrate. Hell didn’t have many (if any) holidays.

◍ You were a new arrival down here, just scraping a year now ━ It felt like no time at all since your last Christmas. No one would have thought it would have been the last one you celebrated with your family, alive and well. Not even you. 

◍ Each day you felt your humanity slipping further and further away from you. You were no longer a human and that was difficult to face. It wasn’t actually like you even deserved to be here! Wrong place, wrong time some may say. You were sacrificed by a cult. The leader of which… Well, it wasn’t something you liked to think about. 

◍ Maybe… Celebrating a human holiday, even in Hell, might make you feel a little less, you know, dead? It was clear to those around you that you were having trouble adapting to your new life and were still desperately clinging to the life you once had. You still wished to celebrate birthdays, you were afraid of the dark / bugs / spiders, and you would find yourself breathing out of habit. You didn’t need to, none of your friends did… they all said it would be a habit you would drop with time. 

◍  They all kept preaching to you that with acceptance, it would get easier. 

◍  During your time down here, you had become particularly fond of a certain overlord that was sniffing around the hotel. To your surprise (and everyone else’s) it seemed he had become rather fond of you too. It wasn’t an official relationship, he just seemed to tolerate you more than he tolerated the others. With the occasional romantic gesture. 

◍ You were the first person that made him feel something he didn’t quite understand — like a squeeze in his chest. Emotional intimacy was not something he was at all used to! But he was trying to get there. Have mercy on anyone who thought they could upset you and get away with it… Alastor had made it apparent that he would show no mercy to anyone who dared upset you. 

◍ With these newfound emotions, Alastor also had a hard time letting you down or saying no. So when you had brought up to him that you wanted a Christmas, as much as you had expected him to laugh in your face and flat out give “no” for an answer, he considered it for a few moments. His hand outstretched and took your face between his thumb and forefingers, crimson orbs focusing on your very best puppy look. The fact you felt like you needed to give him that look amused him. At least you didn’t see him as a push over just because he had made life in Hell a little easier for you, and you were still very much putting some effort and thought into the things you requested of him.

◍ “Dear, does our setting not take away from the entire meaning of Christmas?”

◍ He had tried to understand your request. Alastor could only remember one time he had celebrated Christmas, and it wasn’t in Hell. It was as a boy with his mother, sat by the fire on the 25th, the two of them bed-headed and still in pyjamas. A fond memory of his, though he didn’t remember the day well other than those few moments. He couldn’t even remember what laid within the decorative paper once he’d torn it open. 

◍ You knew Alastor wasn’t a demon who had ever had much interest in ANY holiday, whether it be celebrated in Hell or not, and even though many referred to him as “a mortal soul”, you found it hard to believe the demon you had grown to love was EVER human. Perhaps wielding a human body… but you doubted he truly understood what it meant to be alive. 

◍ After a few whimpers spilled from your lips, your small hands gently clasping against the wrist of the hand that held your chin, you noted that his shoulders bounced in a chuckle — perhaps in a frequency too low for your ears to pick up on. 

◍ How could he say no to you, to that face? That adorable little whimper. He let go of your chin and returned his hand to its place atop his microphone. You could practically hear the gears turning in his brain, weighing up the options. Should he let you have this? Would it be something beneficial for you?

◍ That was usually how he decided what demands of yours he would give into, and which ones he wouldn’t. Would it be beneficial for you, would it help you adapt more to THIS life? 

◍ “I just want to feel like me. Every day I feel my humanity, the person I used to be, slipping further and further away from my grasp. Like if I reached a little farther I could hold onto it just a little longer. I’m not ready to let go of it all yet, Alastor… This all feels like a horrible nightmare. The only silver lining to his dark cloud has been you…”

◍ You were practically biting back tears as you spoke, explaining why you desperately wanted to celebrate such a holiday. He was quiet once again, perhaps revaluating his first decision. 

◍ He hated seeing you upset. He hated seeing you cry. Not that you liked throwing a little pity party to get your own way, he was very susceptible to what we’re real tears and which were crocodile tears because he hadn’t given into you. He said yes. Yes to your very own Christmas in hell. 

◍ A flick of his wrist was all it took, a flash of green melting away, leaving behind heaps of perfectly placed faux snow, twinkling Christmas lights and reefs hung on every door. It was like something from a Christmas movie, the very scene before you unlocking some childhood memory you had forgotten you even had — the time you went to the Christmas light gardens at the snowy park with your parent(/s).

◍ You twirled around, the awe clear on your face as you took in the picture perfect sight. “Perfect” was really the only word to describe the scene before you… you felt your grin falter ever so slightly. Of course he noticed.

◍ “ You do not like it. “ 

◍ You felt yourself wince at the comment, a comment you were sure was supposed to come out a question. But he was right … you didn’t like it. There was nothing comforting or homely, loving, about this. 

◍ In a desperate attempt to prove yourself wrong you spun around once again, searching for the smallest piece of misplaced snow, a reef without a candy striped bow, a light that was out of sync with the rest or that didn’t work at all — you couldn’t find a single fault with it. 

◍ “ It’s not that I don’t like it!”

◍ “Then what is it?”

◍ “I was just hoping that the Christmas would feel a little more homely, and not as much magic would be involved. The fun part is putting UP the Christmas decorations! Sure they won’t be as perfect as this… but that’s what makes Christmas special. It’s a holiday you build together.”

◍ The smile on his mouth never faltered. Never, ever. Not even when you were rambling about the Christmas you wanted to put together yourself — with him. With the Hotel staff, your friends. The demons you had come to love over the last few months of residing there… 

◍ Another flash of green, the hotel walls were bare with nothing but Charlie’s family portraits littering the walls once more. However, the same decorations were crammed into boxes, red, green and white spewing out of the bursting cardboard. 

◍ You seemed happier at the sight of the tearing boxes than you did at the Christmas wonderland he had created for you in mere seconds. Some things just couldn’t be reached with magic. 

◍ It wasn’t long before the word had gotten around to the rest of the gang that you and Alastor were putting up Christmas decorations — They decided to join you. Charlie seemed the most enthusiastic about it! 

◍ In order, they joined Charlie & Vaggie ( together, coming back from business elsewhere ), Angel, Nifty and the last to join was Husk, who had earned himself the nickname of “Hinch” ( Husk / Grinch ). He was not in the Christmas spirit, however Nifty couldn’t reach the top of the portraits to hang tinsel from them! He enjoyed watching her struggle for a few moments, then it got sad. So he decided to step in and help! You think he liked it really.

◍ And what good would Christmas be without Christmas music, Santa hats and funky hair accessories, and ugly sweaters? 

◍ Alastor was not a fan of the itchy, red sweater. He also wasn’t a fan of the jingling reindeer horns that were placed on his head and the light - up red nose clipped to the tip of his, courtesy of Angel. But… he tolerated it for an hour or two. 

◍ He thought you looked rather adorable in a sparkly Santa hat … 

◍ It took hours to decorate the seemingly endless floors of the Happy Hotel, and by the end it was getting worse and worse. Even you were putting less effort into your own plan! It looked nothing, nowhere near, anything like what Alastor had created for you. The faux snow was too sparse in some places and over flowing in others, tinsel was messily draped and thrown everywhere and on every string of lights you could spot at least one that didn’t work. It was perfect! 

◍ Having left with Angel about an hour before you guys finished up the last few floors remaining, Nifty had baked Gingerbread demons. They were like gingerbread men, only some of these had limbs missing, extra appendages, and funny faces drawn on with icing. Angel was having fun drawing boobs on them. 

◍ You decided to watch horror movies in place of Christmas movies, since finding Christmas movies for rental in Hell was like looking for a needle in a Haystack. Hot cocoa, gingerbread demons, you were content on the lap of your love, one arm lazily holding your waist.

◍ None of you had gotten each other gifts, due to none of it being expected or plans, so instead you shared the happy memories you had! Happy memories in Hell were few and far between, but you were glad everyone could think of at least one to share. Even Husk joined in with this one!

◍ The night drew in, it got later and one by one the Hotel Staff retreated to their own rooms. It was just you and Alastor now… still perched on his lap, the cold dregs of once-hot cocoa remaining in your cup, you nestled your back into him. His arm tightened around your middle protectively, a purr sounding against your right ear. It always made you shudder. 

◍ “Thank you for making today special, Alastor.”

◍ You turned on his thighs to face him, smiling pink-cheeked up at him. He pressed a claw to your lips, his other arm leaving your waist momentarily. A flick of his wrist, a small flash of green — he was holding a piece of mistletoe. 

◍ You swore you felt your heart leap in your chest, whether that was even possible or not, you felt something. You felt a twinge of excitement and anxiety. You knew what he was after, and you had been hoping for this for a while too. 

◍ “May I?”

◍ His voice was much softer, a hand cupping the side of your face gently. Lips parted and ready for him, you gave a single nod before his mouth was pressed to yours. The kiss was slightly clumsy, yet it was passionate and needy. One hand on your face, the other half-heartedly holding up the piece of mistletoe as he melted against your mouth with a purr of pleasure.

◍ That was the first time he had kissed you, and for someone who didn’t know what he was doing too much, you had loved every second.

◍ “Merry Christmas, my sweet.”

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Another World - TDC Holidays - Day 1

It’s here! Please leave reblogs and comments bc they’re really good motivators, thanks!

DAY 1

AU: FUCK THE FDF ENDING (ALSO, MAMA CAMILLE)

POV: ARSINOE

What started all of the events that followed was, unsurprisingly in Arsinoe’s opinion, her almost mother-in-law’s fault. Although, she thought that about many things in her life as it was now. Kat, Mira and her had been sitting at the breakfast table looking over napkin colour (Arsinoe was struggling to keep her eyes open honestly) when Ruth had flaunted into the room, holding some party invitation. She had seemed too satisfied with it, which had piqued Arsinoe’s interest.

“Who’s that from?” Arsinoe had sounded out around a yawn, smiling at the disapproving look she was given.

“Lady Camille and Lord Philippe of Dumont, Centra. Their son is finally being presented to high society,” Ruth had said. Arsinoe had frowned. Those names were ridiculously familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Mirabella spoke instead.

“Ruth, is Camille a very common name here on the Mainland?” She asked. Mrs. Chatworth frowned in consideration.

“No, I suppose it’s not. Why do you ask, Mirabella?” She inquires. Mirabella looks at both of her now attentive sisters before turning back.

“It’s just that, well, Camille and Philippe are the names of our mother and father,” Mirabella says. Realisation dawns on Arsinoe. Of course that was where she had heard those names before. Mrs. Chatworth looks over the three of them with a gentle but angry look on her face. She always became righteously mad whenever the triplets bought up their lack of parents or their treatment on Fennbirn, her motherly instincts making her fuss over them more often than Arsinoe would like.

“We should go and see whether it’s them,” Arsinoe says, gaining surprised looks from Ruth and Mirabella as she cracks one of her knuckles, “oh, and this one,” she picks up a napkin before standing and stretching.

“I thought you weren’t paying attention?” Kat asks with gentle mocking. Arsinoe snorts.

“I wasn’t, but I know the colour scheme for my own wedding Kitty, it’s not that hard to find the right one,” she says with a shrug.

“You want to go see if they are our parents? Why?” Mirabella asks, slight concern in her voice. Arsinoe cracks another few knuckles and her neck.

“I don’t want to talk to our mother, she’s the worst, but I think I’d at least like to meet our father.”

~

After much discussion, they decided to go. The gala was packed with people in black tie but the hosts were nowhere to be found. The mansion (although castle was honestly a more apt word) they were in was making liberal use of what was essentially a ballroom. She scoffs in indignation when they enter, plucking a flute of champagne from a passing tray.

“A castle? Honestly pretentious,” she whispers, her red-painted lips smiling sardonically at her sisters.

“I’d buy you a castle, A,” Billy leans over her shoulder to kiss her cheek and steal a sip of her drink, making her blush. Both of her sisters feign retching and move away from them into the throng of people. Arsinoe hums gently as he stands beside her and takes back her champagne.

“If you put the salary Jules gives you into buying me a castle of all things, I will leave you at the altar,” she says and he places a hand on his chest, feigning a wound. She takes the hand away from his chest and kisses it gently, a smile on her face.

“No castle then. I might just buy a cottage in the woods, how does that sound?” Billy says, stepping closer until they’re chest to chest. She leans up slightly and kisses his cheek, before rubbing away the slight red left there.

“That would be perfection.”

“Arsinoe?” Arsinoe turns to the unfamiliar voice calling her name like a question, coming face to face with a woman who she is unable to look away from. She was older and had deep wrinkles in her face, but the colouring of her hair and eyes was unmistakeable. It was the exact same as Arsinoe’s own, as her sisters.

“Hello, mother,” Arsinoe says, approaching her with a hand to shake.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Queen Camille says and Arsinoe raises an eyebrow sourly.

~

“So I’m the dead one but the other two had a shot? Rude,” Arsinoe hmphs, slouching back against the chaise she was sharing with her sister’s in the library Camille had dragged them off to. Camille sat across from them with her hands folded and under Mirabella’s icy expression actually manages to look penitent.

“Mirabella was powerful and Katharine would have had the Arrons,” Camille says quietly. Arsinoe scowls.

“Yeah, whole lot of good the Arrons did,” Kat says bitterly, rubbing a place on her sleeve where a scar was underneath. Arsinoe reaches behind Mirabella’s back and takes her hand gently.

“You purposefully took steps to have two of your children killed so one could live. That’s the work of someone truly sick,” Mirabella said, with enough acid to make their mother flinch. She looks ready to continue her barrage when the door opens and two men enter the room. The first is tall and older with salt and pepper hair and warm blue eyes. Arsinoe can’t miss the slant of his nose that she’s been looking at on her own face her entire life. Their father then. Next to him stands a boy just younger than them with brown hair and his father’s blue eyes. He smiles at Arsinoe when their eyes meet.

“Mum, who are these fine ladies?” He says and Arsinoe shoots a sourly amused look at her mother.

“This your son?” Camille nods and Arsinoe turns to him. “Hi, I’m Arsinoe, this is Katharine and Mirabella. We are your older sisters,” words couldn’t describe the stages of shock both men’s faces went through.

“Girls, your father Philippe and your brother Charles,” Camille says weakly. Arsinoe gave them both a gentle smile. Neither of them deserved her ire. She doubts they even know what Camille did to them.

Charles recovers first and smirks at her. “Wicked scars, sis,” Arsinoe smiles despite herself before she glances at her father, whose eyes are looking awfully teary as he sits on the coffee table in front of them.

His eyes trace their faces before he’s pulling them into his arms, hugging them so tight Arsinoe huffs a laugh.

“Stay for the party, would you, my darling girls. I would hate for you to leave,” he offers when they break apart. Arsinoe shares a look with her siblings. Mirabella nods.

“Okay, we’ll stay,” Mirabella answers and Arsinoe catches her shit-eating grin too late to stop her from continuing, “I’m sure Arsinoe’s fiancee will try to get your blessing before the night’s out,” Mirabella finishes and her father looks at her in surprise.

“Mira,” she groans, dropping her head into her hands to hide her bright red cheeks, much to the amusement of her sisters and brother.

“Well he must be an alright bloke, that’s one hell of a rock on your finger,” Charles says and she lifts her head to point a finger at him.

“You, little brother, are on thin ice,” he just laughs.

Tag List: @poisonerrose​, @nataliaarronn​

[my-fan-side]

Unconventional

A/N: Okay, so here’s the Eris-Nesta Friendship (but still Def Nessian) Fanfic that I’ve started drafting about a couple months ago, but went back to it just last week while cleaning up some of my file in folders.So anyway, I hope you guys like it. Thanks for those who have liked, reblogged and have shown interest on this fic. I appreciate it very much and you have no idea how much that means to me. :)

Chapter 1

When Beron Vanserra died, the crown was instantly passed to his eldest son Eris. How he died and to whose hands he had, was never questioned by anyone, any more. What everyone was concerned, and intrigued for that matter, was what’s in store for the future of Autumn Court under its new leadership.

The dead was honored, traditions was observed, the people of the Autumn court grieved, and High Lords from all other courts sympathized with them. But as they say, the end of an era, is a beginning of another. And so, after all the of mourning, a celebration is very looked forward to.

“Invitations! We’re all going to a Ball next week!” Elain came in bouncing towards her family and friends lounging on the townhouse’s foyer. Everyone looked up to her, and to her red head mate who carries a couple of boxes in his arms beside her.

“Already?! Just a week after his father’s death, and a gathering to celebrate his crown is already happening. Eager much, is he?” Mor snorted with a mix of amusement and irritation as she took one of the invitations and stroke its elaborate design.

“Well, He is already the High Lord of Autumn. He already became one, the moment Beron took his last breath. This is Coronation Ball is just for formality.” Rhysand pointed out as he sat beside his mate. Feyre was admiring the red and gold intricate swirls on the invitation as well. It is beautiful, and if the invitation alone looked this extravagant, she could only imagine what more the actual party would be.

Elain finished distributing the invitations and was now seated on the sofa beside Nesta and Cassian. She frowns on the inner circles’ reactions though. She expected them to be at least a little bit excited for the ball, since it’s been a while since they’ve attended one from a different court. She thought that the animosity between the group and Eris has already subsided. She won’t say it out loud, but she thinks it was a relief to all of them when the throne was transferred to him. They all knew that if not for Eris, some of the treaties between Autumn and Night court wouldn’t have pushed through. He has shown good faith these past years, so she’s not really sure what to feel on their reactions. Maybe she still hasn’t truly understood how deep does the scars run among these people.

Lucien opt not to comment and just rearrange the two boxes he was carrying by the table. He is used to these peoples’ dislike toward his brother, he doesn’t blame them, there’s history there. Still, he and his brother managed to establish a civil relationship for a while now. He wouldn’t say that they are now best brothers, but for now, at least they were on the same page on being at least friendly. At the beginning he bears it for their mother, but as time passes by, Eris managed to show them that he is a better male than his Father was.

“Well, Elain is right! It’s been a while since we all visited another court for a celebration. We have been busy these past few weeks. So, I, for one, is very excited to go party!” Cassian winked at Elain and it made her giggle, Nesta snort, and the rest of the gang shook head and roll their eyes.

“Speaking of. Nesta, this is for you, for the party.” Lucien handed the box to her.

“For me?” Nesta took the box unsure what to make of it.

“Yes, the other box is for Elain.”  Lucien confirmed and handed the other box to his mate.

“Hey! What about me?” Feyre protested with a pout from the other side of the room.

“Uhmm. Well, the one for Elain is actually from my mothers. A late birthday present since I’ve mentioned to her that last week was Elain’s birthday.” Lucien explained carefully, hoping not to upset his first Archeron friend. Meanwhile, Elain blushes on receiving that gift. She knows what’s in the box, she has already opened it when they were still on the Autumn court. It was a beautiful long dress, perfect for next week’s occasion.

“Uhhhh, so is this an advance birthday present for me too? From your mother? Because my birthday is still a couple of months from now, and I wasn’t aware she knows about it?” Nesta asked with raised brows. She’s confused on why Lucien’s mom would give her anything at all, what more, a present?

“Actually, it’s not exactly from mother. That – is from Eris, sort of. He told me to give you that.” Lucien said with a raised brow and a smirk. Elain bit her lip trying not to laugh. Not because of Nesta’s snort when Lucien said it was from Eris, but because of the rest of the Inner Circle’s reaction. They were all rendered speechless looking back and forth between Nesta and the gift box. Azriel and Amren with narrowed eyes. Rhysand with raised brows. Feyre and Mor probably didn’t even noticed their mouths agape. And Cassian, Nesta’s mate, who’s face went from shocked, then confused, then angry in just a matter of seconds, was frozen still.

Nesta, however, seems to be unaffected and probably amused on their reactions as well. She took the cover of the box, saw a card atop it and read it. What’s written made her snicker. And before she returned the card inside the box, Cassian grabbed it fast and read it aloud.

“Nesta.

Here’s a dress that I hope you’ll wear on my Ceremony. I know I can’t tell you what to do, I’ve learned my lessons. But, just because you’re from the Night court doesn’t mean you’ll wear black and white only. Or Gray like you usually do. Really, you should spice up your wardrobe a little, will you?

Eris.”

The letter sounds teasing enough that they can’t help but wonder how close Eris and Nesta have really become. And why the heck they didn’t know about it. Well except Elain and Lucien.

Cassian’s nostrils flared, and crumpled the piece of paper with Eris note. He was about to say something, when Nesta punched his arm, not that hard really, just to make him stop seething.

“Will you stop being territorial. Gods! It’s just a note!” Nesta rolled her eyes at his mate.

“Sweetheart, this...” he raised the crumpled notes towards Nesta. “…is just a note. “But that—”  he point his fingers towards the dress that’s still neatly folded inside the gift box. “--is not! Why the heck is Eris giving you a dress? And since when are you two friends? Why did I not know this? Wha—” He wasn’t able to finish his blubbering. Nesta put a finger on his lips to shut him up and answers his questions calmly.

“One, he’s giving me a dress because he wants to--- for some reason. Two, I can’t remember exactly when we started to get along, but it’s not like it happened the instant I have visited Autumn court as an Emissary. And three, well… I don’t know why you didn’t know. I guess it just never came up. It’s not like we talk about him that much. Do you want to talk about him?” Nesta finished her statement coolly and with a raised brow towards Cassian.

“No.” He grumbled, he’s annoyed and mad. Too many questions running through his mind.

“I do!” Feyre answered back. “I want to know how you are friends. I mean, you go to other courts too, but it’s not like you have close friends from every courts?” she said and then crossed her arms. She can’t believe her sister is actually friends with Eris. And they must be closer than just the casual acquaintances, because he was literally giving her gifts.

Nesta tilted her head towards Feyre and answered her evenly. “And how are you so sure I don’t?” She crossed her arms too and face her younger sister. Like a challenge. The others kept quiet eyeing the two having a staring match.

Then Nesta sighed and leaned back towards Cassian’s arms. “I don’t get why you’re all bothered about this. I can have friends outside this circle and this court, you know? Like you do.”

“We never said you can’t or don’t.” Rhysand clarified.

“Of course. Of course.  I guess it just caught us off guard. We didn’t know.” Feyre let it go and leaned back towards her mate as well. “But you do?!” she then turned her attention to her other sister. Pointing out that among all of them, she isn’t surprise with this.

Elain nods her confirmation. “Well, keep in mind that I usually used to accompany Nesta if she has to go do her work in Autumn, and she chaperoned whenever I go there to meet Lucien there, back then. So, sometimes it’s the four of us who spend time together.” She continued and then shrugged it off.

“Yes, and I’m polite enough to leave them and give the two of them some time alone.” Nesta nods her head pointing to Elain and Lucien. “Because I may be overprotective, but I’m not going to hinder on what makes them… getting to know each other better.” She gave them both a soft smile which the couple returned happily.

“But my brother is stubborn enough as well and decides to not leave Nesta’s side, when she gives us space. You know, Eris might not be the sharpest knife in the bunch, but he knows what he’s saying when it comes to Court Trades and Treaties. And to be honest, when I saw their clash of words on that topic for the first time, I immediately thought that it’s either they’ll kill each other eventually, or miraculously be the best of friends in the end. Well, I guess miracles do happen.” Lucien finished and laughed at that. Elain laughed with him, she thought of that too. Nesta just wave off the statement but that little smirk was undeniably on her face.

“I actually agree with that.” Amren spoke for the first time since the discussion started. “Eris is…cunning and dangerous, yes. But he’s also clever and have the set of skills one leader must have. Just like some one we all know.” She raised a brow and a sly smile towards Nesta. “Maybe that’s why they get along. Besides, whether we all admit it or not. We are glad it was him that have inherited that crown among the Vanserras. We all know it was what’s best for the Autumn court.” She said then finished the wine she was holding.

Cassian was openly glaring at Amren, which the other felt but totally ignored, because how could she actually defend that bastard? However, he can’t say anything else to contradict her statement though, because he knew it was the truth. And everyone seems to think the same because there was a quiet stillness after Amren said her piece.

“Anyway, count me in! Because it will definitely be one heck of a party.” Amren smirked and pointed her wine glass towards Lucien and Elain’s position, her statement seems to finished the conversation.

Tags: @sjm-things @moonbeammadness @maastrash

@typicalmidnightsoul 

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part four

summary: carmen actually steps foot inside her own house after discovering her daughter isn’t the only teenager living there. the hurricane hurtling toward the island matches the tempest in sailor’s heart as she finally gets some long-overdue words off her chest that her mom isn’t very happy to hear and two friends inch closer and closer to crossing that metaphorical line.

word count: 6.6k+ (oops, i did it again 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect, gambling addiction, child abandonment, being kicked out of home, fluff, swearing, underage drinking, flirting, having shitty dads, mentions of weed, star wars, and sailor’s unhealthy addiction to nutella, mention and direct quote of the percy jackson and the olympians series (again), subtle nod to new girl (i love seeing how many references i can make lmao)

a/n: first off, i just want to thank each and every one of you for your likes, reblogs, and especially your wonderful comments! they mean to world to me, seriously ❤ now, here comes the dramaaaaa! we get to dive into sailor’s complicated, turbulent relationship with her mother (sailor, like john b, has a very big, very real fear of being abandoned by people she loves because of her dad) before heading toward the canon timeline of the show. the quote about the sea near the beginning is from jaques cousteau, legendary french naval officer, marine explorer and filmmaker who co-created the aqua-lung and paved the way for modern scuba diving. he also pioneered marine conservation and discovered the wreck of the hmhs britannic, sister ship of the rms titanic! so overall, he was a pretty cool dude and i feel that he’d be a personal hero to ocean-loving sailor (maybe even kiara as well, considering her love of the environment/conservation).

unbetaed as usual so all mistakes are my b.

gif credit to @toesure (who has the most beautiful gifs, ngl)

~Masterlist~

part four: high tide

The sun’s just peeking its rays over the horizon, painting the deep blue sky the softest shades of pink and orange. Calm, steady waves lap against the shore and over Sailor’s bare feet as she stands alone on an empty and desolate beach, the only signs of life coming from the seagulls squawking overhead. The air is thick and sticky with early morning humidity, the type that makes it hard to breathe and frizzes the hell out of her wavy hair, and she can already feel moisture starting to collect on her skin.

Why’s she here again? She can’t remember a reason and come to think of it, she can’t remember exactly how she got here, either. Did she drive? She turns her back to the ocean and its entrancing pull to look for her truck but finds the surf shop is the only thing she can see clearly, the world surrounding it blurred in an incomprehensible mess of color; the sight should’ve caused anxiety to take root in her chest but somehow she finds herself unbothered, relaxed. Somehow, she feels at home.

“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

Sailor’s head snaps to the left at the sound of a painfully familiar voice. A tall, redheaded man now stands in what was only a few seconds ago an empty space, smiling out over the water with the brilliant colors of the sky reflecting in his green eyes.

“Dad?”

Ryan doesn’t seem to hear the incredulous tone in her voice or even the fact that she spoke at all as he turns to face her and asks a question of his own, “It’s true, don’t you think?”

Of course she does. The sea has had her under its captivating, magnetic spell ever since she first laid eyes on it when she was a toddler, a baby, even. Her parents always said she wanted to spend every waking moment at the beach, combing the sand for shells and staring out at the water, imagining what new discoveries were waiting for her in its depths. Her mouth moves on it’s own as she replies, “You know I do.”

It’s not what she wants to say at all. She wants so badly to yell at him, let out her frustrations and hurt and pain ‘how dare you leave us’ ‘what did I do wrong’ ‘why haven’t you come back yet’ but finds that she can’t form the words. It’s like she’s watching a video, or maybe reliving a memory -oh. It feels like a memory because it is one, she recognizes with a start, of the week before he took off and abandoned them for the very first time, leaving behind a gaping, bleeding wound that neither Sailor nor her mother ever managed to properly stitch back together.

Ryan’s smile widens. “Always got your eyes on the horizon, Starfish. Just like your old man.”

Her heart clenches at the old, familiar nickname that she hasn’t heard in years, like she’s looking at a favorite pair of childhood shoes or an old t-shirt from a family vacation long past and realizing she doesn’t fit in them anymore, that she’s moved on, and surprisingly, it doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would.

“Come on,” Her father says and when he reaches out to her, Sailor finds herself reaching back with a much smaller, eight-year old sized hand that’s swallowed by Ryan’s larger, calloused palm. “Think you can go fifteen feet today?”

“Fifteen? I’m gonna go twenty!” She declares confidently in her most grown-up voice, giggling when her dad beams and hoists her little body up into his arms, the stubble on his face tickling her skin as he plants a kiss on her cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

He runs into the surf, tossing a laughing Sailor into the ocean when it’s waist deep before they wade out, further and further until the sandy floor drops away from their feet and they’re left treading water.

“Ready, Starfish?”

“Ready!”

The sun breaks over the horizon and casts its golden light on the pair, turning their hair an identical shade of fiery red just as they dive below. She has to work harder to keep up with her father’s longer strokes but she does it and reaches the bottom the same time he does; he smiles widely and reaches out to quickly cup her cheek, pride shining clearly in his eyes and she beams back before turning away to scan the floor for any worthy shells. Finding a knobbed whelk a few feet away, she swims over to grab it before pushing off toward the surface, Ryan following close behind. The sun becomes brighter and brighter the closer she gets and just when her head breaks through the waves-

Sailor wakes.

The early morning sun shines across her eyes through the curtains as she stares up at the surfboard above her bed, the very shelf were the whelk from that day still sits, proudly displayed with her other finds. Yawning, she runs her hands over her face and blinks away the last threads of sleep still clinging to her lashes, along with the memory of her dream. Moments like that with her father were rare. Ryan was a blast to be around when he was happy doing something he wanted to do, like diving for shells, hitting up the bowling alley for a few games, or taking his old, beat up boat out into the marsh to fish for hours on end (never something mundane as doing the dishes or folding the laundry, no, those were children’s jobs and being an only kid, those responsibilities fell to Sailor.). Moments like that were when she felt that -naively, foolishly- her dad was actually proud of her, that he wasn’t horribly inconvenienced by her having the audacity to be his daughter, to be born, that maybe he loved her as much as she loved him.

Cold from a sudden shiver that runs through her body, she rolls onto her side to seek out the best human space heater she knows but her arm only finds empty sheets lacking warmth, her hand reaching for someone who’s no longer there. She frowns and sits up, fingers automatically running through her sleep mussed waves in a semi-futile attempt to fix them into something less resembling a bird’s nest. A quick check of the phone she doesn’t remember plugging in to charge reveals its just before 7 in the morning and her confusion over her missing bedmate only grows; JJ’s rarely ever conscious before 9 AM at the absolute earliest and almost never by his own volition unless surfing’s involved. Even Binx is gone from his usual spot at the end of the bed, leaving her truly alone in the tiny room.

On the floor alongside his boots, the backpack she never noticed him having yesterday is still where he dropped it with its zipper open wide, while his phone rests next to hers on the bedside table and Sailor feels an almost embarrassing wave of relief wash over her knowing he’s still here, that he didn’t just up and disappear in the middle of the night, that he stayed (of all the times he’s come to her before, only once did he leave before dawn and, after she’d frantically tracked him down at John B’s place, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face at the thought of him returning to the lion’s den that he called home, he held her close and promised to never do it again.). She pulls herself out of bed and crosses the room to pull on a random hoodie from the closet before pocketing her phone and padding into the hall, the wooden floor cool under her bare feet.

A demanding meow comes from the kitchen followed immediately by a vexed, “Binx, my dude. For the last time, you can’t have this.” JJ’s bright laugh echoes throughout the room when Binx meows again, this one more insistent than the last and the redhead smiles, quietly shuffling forward to lean against the wall. He doesn’t notice, instead holding a finger to his lips as he shushes the cat sitting on the counter beside him, then turns back to whatever he’s doing. “Be quiet, dumbass! You don’t wanna wake your mom up, do you?”

“I don’t know, sounds to me like he might need my help.”

He startles at her teasing voice, nearly dropping the butter knife in his hand as she steps forward and scoops Binx into her arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Is mean old J not feeding you, Binxy? That just won’t do!”

He rolls his eyes but the grin tugging the corners of his mouth upward betrays his amusement as he says sarcastically, “Yeah, I’m the bad guy for not giving the brat Nutella. Great.”

With a laugh, Sailor gives the cat another loving scratch behind the ears before gently setting him on the floor and hoisting herself onto the counter beside JJ, her legs swinging back and forth and lightly brushing against his side. “So...you’re up early.” She says, watching him scrape the last bit of Nutella out of the jar and smear it on some toast, another piece already made on the plate at his elbow.

“Yeah, I woke up and couldn’t go back to bed.” He shrugs, tossing the knife in the sink and the empty container into the trash; her stomach does a little flip when he brings his hand to his mouth and licks away the chocolate left behind on his thumb, then continues, “Sorry if I woke you up. I tried to be quiet but that shithead over there wouldn’t shut up.”

He nods his chin in the direction of a lounging Binx, stretched out on the back of the couch in the sun and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. I-” She shrugs, too, and meets his blue-eyed gaze. “I guess I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“Bad dream?” JJ asks, holding the plate of toast out to her and she takes a piece with a grateful smile as she replies, “I’d call it more of a bittersweet memory.”

They both fall into a comfortable silence while they eat until he suddenly asks another question around a mouthful of breakfast, “About your dad?”

Sailor freezes mid-chew, her father’s green eyes flicking away from her best friend’s face toward the floor as she swallows thickly, her free hand anxiously clenching the fabric of her shorts. After a long, pregnant pause in which they finish their food and he puts the dirty plate in the sink, she finally says softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

She apologizes again, staring down at the floor and swinging her legs back and forth, her bare feet hitting the cabinet with dull thuds.

“For what?” His brow furrows in confusion while he takes a step forward to stand between her legs, one hand reaching to hook a finger under her chin and lift her head so he can look her in the eye, the other resting on her knee. “Seriously, help me out here ‘cause I’m confused as fuck.”

“Because I feel guilty, okay?” She starts, eyelids briefly closing as she takes a deep breath before snapping open again and continuing before he can interrupt, “Here I am, getting upset over a stupid dream I had about my gambling addict dad that ditched me when your dad does that,” -she points to his bruised ribs- “and this,” -her palm rests on his cheek, thumb skimming over his scabbed lip- “and God, I just-”

“Whoa, hold up there, Sail.” JJ cuts her off, his free hand joining the other in cupping her face, “Just because your dad never hit you doesn’t mean you don’t have something to be pissed about. He abandoned you, stole your mom’s money, and made you feel like shit! You have a right to be mad as fuck about it.”

“But-”

“But nothing! We’re not having a fucking competition about who has the shittiest dad,” -He smirks devilishly, brushing a wayward red curl off her forehead- “because they both suck major dick. End of story.”

In spite of herself, Sailor snickers as she winds her arms around his neck and pulls him close, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder while his own arms slide around her waist. “We should start a club.” She jokes lightly and feels his snort of laughter against her ear in response.

“‘Shitty Dad Society,’” He declares proudly, “I call being president.”

“Well, I’m your VP! Binx’s our secretary- shit, I’ll be treasurer, too ‘cause I don’t trust you with any type of financial situation at all.”

He laughs again, hand tightening its grip on her waist and she smiles into his neck as he says, “That’s fair. We should make shirts.”

They settle into another comfortable silence after that, both more than happy to relax in the other’s arms and just be. It’s one of her favorite things about..whatever they are, the ease, the contentment, the familiarity felt when they’re together are sentiments she never, ever wants to lose and a thought, an exciting, dangerous thought pops into her head: what if he never has to leave?

“Come live with me.”

“...what?”

Oh, fuck, she just said that out loud, didn’t she? Brain, enter panic mode. The redhead abruptly pulls out of his embrace and buries her already blushing face into shaking hands, closing her eyes tight for good measure, stammering between her fingers, “Nothing, nothing! I said nothing!”

“Pretty sure you said something,” His hands encircle her wrists and gently pull them down to her lap. “And it wasn’t ‘nothing.’”

She stares down at their entwined fingers resting on her thighs, the backs of his hands deliriously warm against her exposed skin and grounding her to this (scary, exciting, vulnerable) moment, and blurts out in a rush, “I said, come live here. With me.”

JJ doesn’t speak, but the way his hands almost imperceptibly tighten their hold on hers -she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t already been looking- compels her to raise her head and meet his eyes; the indescribable depth of the ocean is behind his gaze, as well as the barest hint of pure, brazen hope, and it says everything his mouth won’t.

“Remember yesterday, when you said you don’t know how much more you can take?” She asks. At his tight nod, she weaves her fingers even more intricately with his and admits softly, “Well, I’m not sure how much more I can take, either.”

Sailor’s eyes sweep over the cuts on his face with all the gentleness of a lover, his lip first, followed by the one on his cheekbone before meeting his again. “I can’t...I can’t see you hurt like this anymore.”

Blue stares into green for an insurmountable stretch of time, long enough that she starts to think that she should’ve just kept her big mouth shut, until he finally whispers, “Seriously?”

“J, I’ve never been more serious about something in my entire life. I can’t let him do this to you anymore.” She finishes with a shrug, “My mom’s never here, anyway. It’d be, uh, really nice to not be alone all the time ‘cause as much as I love him, Binx doesn’t count.”

His eyes become stormy at that casual admission of loneliness for just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment before brightening into their natural blue, the same color of the sky on a clear day as he says simply, “Okay.”

“Seriously?” It’s her turn to ask it now and the smile that breaks over her face when he nods is one of unabashed relief; without thinking, she leans closer and presses her forehead to his. “Good.”

He smiles, too, and briefly lets his eyes fall shut at the contact as he jokes, “Just so you know, Flynn, I’m probably not gonna be the best roommate.”

“Please,” She giggles, freeing one of her hands to playfully push at his shoulder, “I live with the most spoiled, demanding cat in the world. I think I can handle you, Maybank.”

The teasing smirk on his face makes her heart beat a little faster. “We’ll see about that.”

Sailor decides to pretend she didn’t hear his loaded comment (she’s not quite ready to open up that particular can of worms just yet), instead pulling her phone from her hoodie pocket to check the time. “Alright, here’s the deal: in one,” -she glances at the time again because holy shit does she have the short-term memory of a fucking chimp- “two hours, we’re going shopping and, hey, don’t give me that look!” She laughs at the pained expression that crosses his face, “If you’re gonna live here, get ready to put in the work.”

JJ offers her a lazy salute with his free hand and she rolls her eyes, trying her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he says coyly (again, damn him!), “Yes, ma’am.”

“Until then, though,” The redhead continues, hopping off the counter to grab his hand and starts pulling him toward the hall to her room, “We have a book to read and you have some Greek to mispronounce.”

“Fuck, you’re bossy.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

-

It goes like this: for nearly three weeks, life for the pair is pretty damn good. The summer days pass the same as they had been, either spent lazing around with the rest of the pogues or working their variety of jobs -Sailor at the ice cream parlor, along with her weekly shell dives and the beginner surf classes she teaches for The Sandbar, JJ at the country club and doing whatever odd jobs he can find around the island- as June slowly bleeds into July. They find themselves doing everything together: shopping, cooking dinner, sharing her tiny room, and it’s so painfully domestic, so natural and so right that it hurts to wrap her head around it.

If their friends notice, none of them comment on it, even though she sees the looks sent their way whenever they both hop out of Sailor’s truck together (most are curtesy of eagle-eyed Kiara, but Pope and even the ever oblivious John B raise their eyebrows a few times). At night they continue to read through the Percy Jackson series, taking turns reading aloud each evening and for a short, blissful time, they let go of the burdens weighing heavy on their shoulders. For a while, everything is close to perfect.

Typically, predictably, it doesn’t last and when shit finally hits the fan, it happens in epic fashion because nothing is ever easy when they’re involved.

It happens a few days after the Fourth of July. It’s late-afternoon, Hurricane Agatha brewing off the coast causing the clouds to streak faster through the sky and, with the rest of their friends working or otherwise occupied, the two teenagers decide to spend a day lounging at home, getting in a few more chapters of The Battle of the Labyrinth and drinking the beer left over from a night of partying at John B’s house.

“’Jumping out a window five hundred feet above ground is not usually my idea of fun,’“ Sailor reads as she relaxes on the couch, book in one hand and can of PBR in the other, the wind blowing in through the open window ruffling her hair, “‘Especially when I’m wearing bronze wings and flapping my arms like a duck.’“

“I’ll drink to that,” JJ says, briefly lifting his head from her lap to chug the rest of his beer before settling back down, feet propped up on the couch’s arm. They’re both a little buzzed, having lost count of how many drinks they’ve downed but she’s had enough to make her start giggling at his comment as she struggles to keep reading while Binx, fed up with the noise, jumps down from his spot behind her and slinks down the hall to find some peace and quiet.

“Damn you, stop it!” She laughs harder as he pulls a ridiculous face at her pronunciation of Daedalus, then shoots her an impish grin and she responds by ‘accidentally’ dropping the paperback on his face. Both are so caught up in hysterics that they don’t notice the sound of a car pulling into the driveway or a key unlocking the front door.

“Sailor!”

The girl freezes at her name, green eyes widening at the sharp tone of her mother’s voice. Slowly, she turns her head to look over her shoulder where she stands, arms crossed, and she’s so shocked Carmen’s actually looking her in the eye that nothing comes out of her open mouth but an oh so eloquent “huh?”

“What the hell is going on here?” The older woman demands, moving around the couch before either teenager can react, and her eyes narrow when she catches sight of JJ’s head on her daughter’s thigh and the empty beer cans on the end table. “Are you two drunk? Get up, now.”

He hastily does as she asks, eyes downcast to the floor and shaking hands clenched at his sides; ignoring her mother’s glare, Sailor deliberately reaches over and rests one palm on top of his as she says tightly, “Nice to see you home for once, I’m surprised you remembered where it is.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it but she can’t find it in her fuzzy, alcohol-numbed brain to care when Carmen reels back like she’s been slapped before she seems to compose herself, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Sailor Giselle, don’t you dare talk to your mother like that!”

The redhead feels something inside her snap and she glares up at the only parent she has left, all but spitting her next words, “Then start acting like my mother! This is the first time I’ve seen you here in four months!”

“I had to come home after Rachel told me you were shacking up with some boy! Do you have any idea-”

“Rachel?!” Sailor explodes at the mention of their obnoxiously invasive old biddy of a neighbor whose sole mission in life is knowing everyone’s business, “God, that hag just can’t keep her nose out of anything can she?”

Carmen crosses her arms once again and glowers at her daughter. “You know how hard it is for me to be in here, Sailor. I asked her to keep an eye on you for me and I’m glad I did.”

The teenager stares at her in disbelief before barking a loud, humorless laugh. “Let me get this straight: you asked our neighbor to spy on me so you didn’t have to come home...so you didn’t have to actually put in some effort?” Carmen opens her mouth to defend herself but before any words can come out, Sailor continues, throwing her free hand in the air, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“This is my house!” Her mother thunders, not noticing the way the silent blond boy flinches at her yell and how her daughter tightens her grip on his hand. “This is my house and I can do whatever I damn well please, including having someone look out for you when I can’t.”

“When you won’t, you mean.” She scoffs, shaking her head in thinly-veiled disgust, “I’m doing just fine on my own, no thanks to you, Mom.”

“Does ‘doing just fine’ mean living alone with this kid?” Carmen spits and when she glances at JJ like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe, Sailor’s finally had enough and takes a step toward the older woman with a furious glare.

“Will you just let that go? God! He’s my best friend and he needed somewhere to stay, that’s it!”

“I don’t care.” Turning to JJ, she demands coldly, “Go pack your shit and get out.”

“No.” Green eyes hardening into chips of emerald, the redhead grabs his other hand as he goes to leave the room and steps in front of him protectively. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Carmen pinches the bridge of her nose, her voice low as she threatens, “I swear to God, Sailor, either he leaves or I’ll make him leave.”

When she feels his whole body go rigid behind her, she knows her mom’s won this particular battle and before she can even turn to face him he’s disappeared down the hall to her room without a word. Sailor whirls to face her like the wind outside, red hair flying over her shoulder like a whip as she seethes, “How dare you.”

The older woman sighs like she’s the one hurting and crosses to the window before closing it with a firm hand. “Drop it, I’m done arguing.”

“I care about him, Mom, you can’t just kick him out!”

“I said drop it! I don’t give a shit how you feel about him, I’m not having your homeless boyfriend mooching-”

“Jesus Christ -his dad beats the shit out of him!”

The words ring out like a bell, loud and clear and impossible to ignore. Carmen freezes in the middle of picking up a discarded can, tan skin turning pale as she stares, mouth slightly agape, at her daughter; the girl stares back unflinching, and despite her heart’s rapid staccato in her chest, her next words cut like a knife.

“He’s not homeless, okay? But his dad hits him, all the damn time. You’re not gonna stand by and let that happen, are you?”

Her mother’s eyes soften -for a fleeting moment, she looks like her old, caring self again- before they harden to steel, the open expression on her face slamming closed with all the force of a screen door in a hurricane.

“I’m sorry -really, I am- but that’s not my problem.”

Sailor flinches at the icy edge in her voice and looks down at the floor, jaw clenched tight as she tries to blink away the sudden burning behind her eyes. “I...I don’t know you anymore. My mother would never say that.”

She hears Carmen heave another deep sigh as her footsteps slowly head toward the front entry, “You and I have a lot to talk about when I get back from work, Sailor.” She says, followed by the snatching of keys and the door handle turning. “And that boy had better be gone when I do.”

The redhead looks up from her feet, watching the door slam behind her mother’s retreating form before hastily making her way down the hall to her room and like that morning, the wave of relief that she feels when she sees JJ still sitting on her bed, realizing he’s still here, is downright embarrassing but she’s well past the point of caring. In a flash, Sailor’s in his arms, face pressed against his neck as she cries, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Sail, you’ve gotta stop apologizing for things you can’t control.” He whispers when she eventually falls silent and she can’t stop the rough laughter bubbling in her chest, even as her whole world feels like it’s falling apart around her.

“Sorry.”

His own laugh is short and low in her ear, and then he’s pulling her closer as his hand draws soothing circles on her back. She lets herself relax for a brief moment, eyelids fluttering closed at his touch, before she takes a deep breath and pulls back to look him in the eye, hands carelessly wiping away the tears on her cheeks, “Help me pack.”

“...what?”

“When she kicked you out, she kicked me out, too.” She says matter-of-factly at JJ’s confused look while she abruptly kneels, pulling her old suitcase from under the bed and heaving it up onto the mattress.

“Okay, so she didn’t actually kick me out but she might as well have!” The redhead strides to her closet and starts picking out her favorite clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the bed as she fumes, “God, I even told her about your dad -I’m sorry, shit I did it again- and she said she didn’t care! Not to mention she had our neighbor spy-”

“Sail!” She’s so caught up in her rant that she doesn’t notice when JJ moves to stand beside her, and only when he puts his hands on her shoulders does she stop short, a Kildare County High School sweatshirt dangling from her fingers; she can feel him watching her and when she flicks her gaze up to meet his, she’s not at all prepared for the tempest of emotions -admiration, pride, empathy, something else she can’t name- all crashing like the surf behind his eyes.

Blue. Oh so blue. It’s been her favorite color ever since she knew what colors were and she thinks her favorite shade has to be the one she finds in his eyes: bright, clear, and ever easy to drown in if she’s not careful.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He says it in such a casual way that it’s impossible to think it’s not as intentional as the fingers that slowly tuck a stray curl behind her ear and the thumb that brushes along her flushed cheek.

She just shakes her head with a tiny, bashful smile and her words are an echo of a quiet, rainy night all those weeks ago, “I’m just doing what feels right.”

They fall into an easy rhythm after that, one that helps them both sober up as they fill her suitcase to the brim with everything Sailor thinks she’ll need for a long stay, wherever she ends up. The Chateau makes the most sense of course, but with the DCS breathing down John B’s neck recently, she’s not sure how viable of an option that is but there’s one thing she knows for sure: there’s no way in hell she’s coming back here any time soon. It hurts to leave her shell collection behind -for a brief, dark moment she toys with the idea of tearing the shelf down and smashing them all until they’re turned to dust but she pushes that thought away- so she takes her favorite, the lightning whelk that reminds her of JJ and that day on the beach, and gently tucks it away in her backpack to ease the sting, as a promise to one day return for the rest.

“Jackpot!” JJ exclaims and she looks up to find him on the floor by her chair, pulling up the loose wood board that hides her secret stash of booze and money and reaching in to snag a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels, holding it above his head with a triumphant smile.

“Shit, I forgot that was even in there,” She replies as she kneels beside him and snatches the whiskey from his hand before he can take a swig, slipping it into her backpack, “Not yet.”

“Oh, come on,” He laughs when she rolls her eyes at his pout and reaches into the dark space to pull out an old plastic lunchbox, along with a small flask that gets thrown in her bag without a second glance. “Boooo.”

“Patience,” She teases, opening the cracked lid to take all of the cash inside and stuffs it into the ziploc bag that doubles as a purse (“it’s cheap and waterproof, what more do I need?” was her argument when Kiara asked her why she didn’t have an actual handbag), which she then stuffs in her backpack. “We can get drunk after we get out of here.”

“You had me at ‘drunk,’“ He slides the floorboard back into place after Sailor tosses the empty lunchbox inside and then stands, pulling her up alongside him with his hand in hers, the other reaching out to grab the handle of her suitcase. “Ready when you are.”

The redhead takes one last look around her room, from the assortment of shells and pictures on one wall to her poster of Bethany Hamilton on the other and everything in between -her sanctuary for the longest time- before turning away from the familiar comfort of the old to face the enticing uncertainty of the new. “Let’s go.”

After a quick stop in the bathroom to grab her shampoo, conditioner, and toothbrush -no way in hell is she gonna share any of those with the boys- then the kitchen to grab some food for Binx and the cat himself from the back of the couch (surprisingly, he doesn’t put up much of a fight), they head outside and throw her suitcase and their backpacks in the bed of the truck along with her surfboard.

“John B’s probably gonna be pissed about the cat,” JJ says, leaning against the passenger door with his arms crossed, smirking as she gives him a flat look and unceremoniously dumps Binx onto the bench seat through the driver’s side window.

“Well, John B’s just gonna -stay, Binxy!- have to get used to it. I’m not leaving him behind.”

Across the street, Rachel perches on her porch as she watches the two teenagers with her beady little eyes and Sailor, feeling particularly defiant, grins wickedly. “J, watch this.” Waving to the woman to catch her attention she calls over the wind, “Hey, Rachel!” before slowly extending both middle fingers toward her, one at a time. “That one’s for my mom and this one’s for you, you nosy bitch!”

He instantly joins in and both hold their hands high, cackling with laughter, until the old crone scowls and slithers back into her house like the snake she is. “Good riddance,” the redhead says, opening the truck’s door and sliding behind the wheel, “Let’s blow this joint.”

“Joint?” JJ asks, climbing into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him, Binx instantly curling up on his lap, “Did you say joint?”

“You and weed, I swear...” She laughs and goes to start the engine before she realizes she’s grasping at an empty ignition and lets her head fall against the steering wheel with a thunk, “Son of a bitch, I forgot my keys. I’ll be right back.”

Going back inside isn’t as hard as Sailor thought it would be, but leaving is a whole other ball game. She snatches her keys from the bathroom sink where she left them and heads back toward the front door; she’s just passing by their family portrait when it hits her: this is it, the last time in who knows how long she’ll be here. It’s now or never. She thinks of it as a weight on her shoulders, one that’s been dragging her down for far too long, like Atlas holding up the sky, but unlike him, she’s going to break the chains and set herself free.

In one final, sudden burst of years of anger and hurt and frustration, she rips the picture from the hook and smashes it to the floor, sending pieces of glass and wood skittering down the hall before striding from the house and all its memories without a backwards glance, slamming the door behind her with a resolute bang.

-

Surprisingly, John B doesn’t give a shit about the cat when they show up at the Chateau but he does give a shit about Sailor and her well-being after they give him a quick rundown of the afternoon’s happenings.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sail?” He asks as he and JJ carry her bags into the house and deposit them in the spare room, the redhead trailing behind with Binx in her arms.

“That’s the age old question, bro,” She deflects with a shrug, taking a seat on the bed and setting the cat down beside her; he instantly takes off to explore his new home as she continues, “Who actually knows if they’re okay? What’s okay to one person can be completely different to another-”

“Sailor, seriously.”

She glances back and forth between the two boys -two sweet, caring boys- watching her with twin looks of understanding and relents. “Look, I’m still kind of...processing everything, alright? I’m not exactly sure what I’m feeling and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for me to find out but I promise you,” She says softly, looking them both in the eye, “I’ll let you know if I’m not okay. Deal?”

JJ shoots her an enthusiastic thumbs up while John B opts for a simple nod and she grins before pulling the bottle of Jack Daniels from her backpack with a flourish. “Good. Now, I think we could all use a drink.”

The trio (and Binx, house thoroughly explored) bums around the living room while the afternoon slowly turns to evening, the wind outside getting worse with each passing hour the storm moves closer, passing the bottle back and forth until none of them are anywhere close to sober. What started as a game of truth or dare quickly dissolves into straight up truth as they get remarkably philosophical about what animal they’d want to be (an eagle for John B, a wolf for JJ, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, a dolphin for Sailor) and then have a deep, animated discussion about the best Star Wars movie and why it’s The Empire Strikes Back. Later, when the whiskey’s down to a few sips left and their collective demons have retreated to the very back of their minds, JJ drunkenly suggests playing strip poker and both Sailor and John B have to remind him that none of them a.) know how to play poker or b.) even own a deck of cards.

“Damn it!” The sly grin falls from his face when he realizes they’re right and he dejectedly sinks back into the couch, head coming to rest on the redhead’s shoulder. “I wanna see you take your clothes off, Flynn.”

She laughs loudly and grabs the bottle from his hand before taking a big sip and passing it to John B. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Maybank.” Whiskey, she found out few months ago, hits her hard: her filter? Gone. Blushing? Aside from the flush in her cheeks from the alcohol, gone. Self-consciousness? As long gone as her father. She’ll flirt her heart out without giving a single shit and it’s both a blessing and a curse, as well as an endless source of secondhand embarrassment in the morning.

“That’s okay, you know I like a challenge.” He declares with a wink, cracking up when she plants her hand directly on his face and pushes him off her shoulder as John B snorts and downs the last of the liquor without either of them noticing.

“Jesus, get a room,” He uses the empty bottle to point down the hall, then sets it on the side table with a hollow thunk as he leans back and stretches his arms above his head. “There’s one right there.”

Sailor gives him a swift kick in the shin with her bare foot for that, plus the shit-eating grin on his face. The trio lounges around for a little while longer, relaxing in a whiskey-induced haze; the redhead finds herself nodding off every so often, slipping back further and further until her head finds a place to rest on JJ’s lap and her legs end up on John B’s. The feel of fingers running through her hair is so feather light that she can barely keep her eyes open and before she knows it, she’s down for the count.

When she wakes some indefinite amount of time later the room is dark, the only light coming from the moon shining through the windows and John B’s gone from his spot by her feet, Binx curled up in a ball on the cushion instead. JJ’s dead asleep, hand stalled in her curls and the sight of his head tipped back against the couch with his mouth slightly open is so damn endearing that she can’t help but smile, even as she reaches a hand up to gently shake his shoulder.

“J, wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” He groans, free hand sluggishly pushing her arm away. Sailor sits up and swivels to face him before shaking him again, giggling quietly at the way his head lolls from side to side.

“Come on, the bed’s way comfier than this.”

Sleepy blue eyes open to give her a heavy look that screams both gratification and longing and so much hope as he quips, “You just want me in your bed again, don’t you?”

She reverently rolls her eyes but reaches to grab his hands anyway and pulls him to his feet, both swaying in place before they find their balance. “And if I do?”

The corner of his mouth rises in a small, adorable smile as his fingers entwine with hers. “I’d say that’s right where I want to be.”

“Well, you’re in luck ‘cause that’s where I want you to be, too.” Still a little bit tipsy, her words are honest, sincere, and as she leads him down the hall, she realizes that old saying is true: drunk words are sober thoughts. After three weeks sharing a home, a room, a bed, she just doesn’t think she can sleep without him anymore and that belief doesn’t quite scare her as much as she thought it would.

Lying wrapped up in his arms in the dark, Sailor finds herself dreaming of a future -as much of a future an impoverished, quasi-homeless, not-quite alright, not-quite-seventeen year old can dream of- with the damaged boy that holds oceans in his eyes.

-

A few miles away, Carmen Flynn sits on her daughter’s bed with a broken picture frame in her hands as she cries, all alone in an empty house with no idea how to make things okay again.

-

let me know what you think! also, fun fact: sailor compares her short-term memory to a chimp because studies have shown that chimpanzees are the absolute worst at remembering things, not goldfish as we previously thought (they can remember things for at least five months, compared to chimps who, despite their similarities to humans, forget things in about twenty seconds). sailor, being a zoology nerd, would definitely find that fascinating and make it her mission to educate the masses that goldfish aren’t that stupid jj finds it both adorable and kind of hot

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