#and jack passed with flying colors

[idjits-areus]

Jack: "You mean dying and coming back to life."

Castiel: "Yeah, we've all been through it. It's something of a rite of passage around here."

__________________________________________________________

This goes to show just how permanent death is such a nonexistent thing in this show. Cas literally calls it a 'rite of passage' like a child becoming an adult.

I can just see Cas going:

"Yeah, we've all been through it. Sam's died roughly 5 times. If we're counting Gabriel's 'stop the codependency' attempt, then Dean's at roughly 105. If not, then Dean's at like 7 deaths. As for me, I'm at roughly 4."

Then Jack just looking at Cas with awe and admiration, wondering if he'll die and revive that much too. The kid's actually excited about it.

Also, dying then reviving is your initiation into the Winchester family. Congratulations Jack, you passed with flying colors.

[peachhcs]

oohhh that was adorable !!

what do samy and will get each other for christmas?

sweet, sweet gifts

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

part 2 to sweet, sweet memories where some pretty special gifts are exchanged!

wc: 2.4k

merry christmas to everyone who celebrates today! here is the part 2 to probably one of my favorite fics i've written for this au! i know a lotttt of people have done the tattoo initials before, but i really wanted to join the trend and can totally see samy + will doing this for one another:) but happy holidays!!

au masterlist

both families were gathered around the living room taking turns exchanging gifts after the extravagant wake up and cleaning up all the silly string. the hughes siblings started first with their sibling gift exchange where every year they would pick names out of a hat like secret santa. the parents and smiths watched in amusement as the four huddled in a circle together.

"alright, go ahead and pass," ellen smiled and the siblings quickly exchanged their gifts to who they got. samy passed hers over to jack, jack passed to luke, luke passed to quinn, and quinn passed to samy.

"i fucking knew you got me," jack mumbled in a small smirk as he admired his sister's signature reindeer wrapping paper.

"what? you make luke tell you who he got so you could do process of elimination?" samy giggled.

"hey, it's hard when we live together," the middle brother defended himself and samy just rolled her eyes.

"okay, youngest opens first. open your gift," quinn poked her knee and the girl grinned. she quickly tore through quinn's vancouver blue wrapping paper. it was a rather big box so she wondered what he got her that could be so big.

when she got down to the cardboard box she grew even more curious, reaching for the scissors to cut into the heavy cardboard. finally, she got to the bottom where a white frame facing down revealed itself. the girl carefully lifted it from the box, flipping it over while jack and luke leaned forward to see what it was. quinn sat beside her nervously awaiting her reaction to what became a very sentimental gift.

"oh my god. is this all of my state wins and my recent win?" samy examined each of her game winning photo reactions collaged together into one big picture frame.

"yup, i asked mom for the pictures. i figured you'd want a huge photo of them all together," quinn explained and samy reached over to embrace him in a hug.

"thanks, quinny. i love it. it's so sentimental," the girl hummed and flipped it around so everyone could see better.

"wow, what a gift, quinn," jim nodded.

"it came out so well, i'm so glad," ellen grinned.

"good luck getting that back on the plane," luke snickered and quickly tore into his gift next. the others watched as he shredded the devils red wrapping paper—each sibling seemingly matching their wrapping paper to their team colors this year. jack had a big grin on his face which could only mean so many things from him because he was the master at gag gifts.

out came a little box and luke's eyes widened when he realized what it was. the other siblings leaned in to see, "holy shit, it's me!" the second youngest exclaimed.

he flipped it around so everyone could see him as a little funk pop dressed in his new jersey devils uniform holding his hockey stick. "oh my god! that's adorable!" ellen gushed.

"how'd you even do that?" samy wondered and admired her brother in a box.

"a few emails back and forth with the company. they were more than happy to do it," jack explained.

"this is actually sick, rowdy. thanks," luke patted his brother's back where they exchanged a small hug.

"his frontal lobe must be developing if he didn't get a gag gift this year," samy teased making her brother roll his eyes.

"okay you next," luke nudged jack and the boy quickly tore into the wrapping paper.

samy watched with a smile, hoping jack would like his gift. the reindeer wrapping paper went flying as the middle brother tore through it and luke caught a glimpse of the gift first, his eyes widening.

"no fucking way," jack said when he saw what it was. he pulled it out further so everyone could see the two water guns and now everyone's eyes widened.

"you always say how you want more water guns, so i went ahead and got some for you. you can use them on luke back in jersey or at the lake house," the girl explained.

"no, not at me. save that for the summer," luke quickly shook his head making everyone else laugh.

"this is fucking sick, thanks pop," jack reached over to hug her.

"glad you like them. i know yours wasn't really a gag gift, but i wanted to gag gift you back," everyone shared a laugh and finally, it was quinn's turn.

the oldest hughes was a pretty simple guy and never wanted much, so he looked surprised when luke pulled out a rather large gift for him. because he was such a simple guy, sometimes the siblings struggled what to get him because he never wanted much.

"now, technically i did get you, but we all kind of put thought into this," luke explained making the older boy raise his eyebrow. he glanced at his parents who only shrugged because they had no idea.

they watched in anticipation as quinn carefully opened his gift. it looked similar to samy's with the big white picture frame, but when he flipped it over, the older boy was pleasantly surprised with what he saw.

at the top of the frame was a picture of all of them together at the game quinn was officially named captain of the canucks. beneath the picture was one of his jersey's where the C was proudly displayed on the top right corner. all around the picture were hand written notes from all of his siblings telling him how proud they were of him. quinn's eyes quickly watered, not expecting such sweet gift. the others nervously watched his reaction.

"q, that's so sweet," ellen broke the silence first as she also examined the picture from over his shoulder.

"wee wanted to memorialize such a special moment for you so you'd have it forever and you know how much you mean to us," luke said.

"he's crying, i knew we'd make him cry," jack chuckled and reached over to rub his older brother's shoulder.

"this is the best thing i've ever gotten. i have no words," the older boy quickly wiped his tears to bring his three younger siblings into a hug.

ellen quickly pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the sweet moment.

once the sibling gift exchange was over, it was now time for everything else. colleen and bill handed out their gifts, ellen and jim distributed theirs, and there were a few extra gifts exchanged a long the way that the siblings got one another and between will and grace too. samy got her dyson air wrap as she predicted along with some more necessities she asked for like new mascara, lip gloss, face cream, and perfume.

after everything was opened, the dads worked to clean up the wrapping paper while the moms got to the kitchen to start brunch. samy and will shied away a bit from opening gifts from one another in front of their families, so they disappeared to his room for a second.

"i hope you like it, i literally talked with ryan and gabe about it for weeks," samy chuckled as she slid the two big boxes towards the blonde. he raised his eyebrow a little bit, his curiosity growing.

"hearing that makes me worried," will mumbled because they knew how much ryan and gabe also loved giving gag gifts.

samy watched as he dug into the first big one. the familiar white frame revealed itself which also seemed to be another running theme in the household with these sentimental picture collage gifts. will carefully flipped it over, wondering what would be on the other side.

"we know how much playing at boston meant to you, so gabe and ryan managed to pull a few strings to get your jersey. i printed the pictures and put them all together, so i guess it's sort of a joint gift from all of us? i was thinking you can hang it in your room to remember your time at boston and the legacy your family has to the school," the brunette explained the thought behind the gift and the boy was smiling again as he admired all of the photos of him on the ice or with his friends.

"wow, this is so sweet. i love it, thank you," will glanced up at her, a soft expression on his features which she quickly returned.

"i guess all of us were thinking alike this christmas, but once luke mentioned what he was getting quinn i wanted to do something similar for you," will leaned over to give her a tight hug.

"this is really special, thank you again. i love you," the hockey player hummed, kissing her cheek. he went to tear into the next box which was a bunch of clothes samy saw and figured will would like since he always told her how he watched to change up some of his style.

"hell yeah, i wanted this," the boy said when he saw the abercrombie and fitch sweatshirt and matching jeans.

"i hope they fit. i like kind of knew your size, but not really. i have all the receipts if you need to exchange," samy giggled.

"they're perfect, thank you," he kissed her cheek again. he began passing his gifts over to her until the youngest hughes stopped him. this last gift she was a bit nervous for because it was something she did on a complete whim and didn't know if will would like it or not. he raised his eyebrow when she stopped him for a second.

"i do have one more thing," she began which made the blonde glance at her in confusion. "hopefully you won't think it's stupid or cringey, but i've been thinking about doing it for awhile and i finally did it a few days after i saw you in san jose. it's just a little something..like..to remember you're always with me even when we're miles apart," she rambled a little and will just wondered in amusement what the last gift could possibly be.

when samy stood and began pulling her pajama waist band down, the boy's curiosity grew. was she about to show him her underwear or something? will definitely wouldn't complain if that was the case, but samy stopped about halfway down her hip. will looked closer and that's when he saw black ink marking her skin with 2 simple letters and a number. w.s. 2

his initials. his initials in her skin forever. his eyes widened in disbelief.

"holy shit, no way.." will reached out to gently brush his thumb across the somewhat fresh ink. he actually had zero words, yet it was the hottest thing he's ever seen.

"is it cringy? you can tell me if it is," the girl said nervously when all will did was stare at her upper hip bone. his fingers were delicate across her skin, so mesmerized with the way it looked.

"no way. i love it. i'm on you forever," he looked up at her, such a lovestruck expression on his features it made the girl blush.

"yeah, you are. it's like our own reminder that you're right here with me all the time," she ruffled her hand through his curls, a bit caught off guard when will leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the area.

"god, i love you," he mumbled.

"i love you," samy grinned.

"you know, i really do think we think the same because i also have a surprise for you," will said and stood up too. the brunette watched as he pulled down his own waist band where on the same exact side as hers was will's own tattoo on his hip except it was her own initials and #6.

samy's eyes widened seeing her boyfriend's hip. "no fucking way," she mumbled.

"i also got mine done a few days after you left san jose. we were probably on the same brain wave length or something, but i've also been wanting to this for some time or at least get your number somewhere. i guess the 6 is a tribute to my time at boston college too," the blonde chuckled, watching as samy reached forward to brush her finger over her initials.

"i was thinking about getting a 6 too, but i'm glad i didn't. i can't believe we did the same thing, that's hilarious," samy looked back at her boyfriend who smiled.

"no matter where we are or how far apart we get, i'll always come back to you," will cupped her cheeks, pressing a kiss to her nose before going in to her lips.

"i love you," samy mumbled when they pulled apart again.

"i love you," will hummed and then went to grab the rest of samy's gifts. she carefully worked through them, mumbling how will didn't need to get her so much. he never listened though because his girl deserved nothing less.

she popped open a jewelry box that had small s and w pendants hanging off a little chain. "you keep bugging me how you wanted a necklace," will poked her side and the girl grinned.

"i did, thank you. i love it," she kissed his cheek. he also got her san jose clothes since she always stole his (not that will minded at all, but he wanted her to have her own too).

when they were done, the couple just sat on his bed admiring their gifts and taking in the moment together. "these were all so sweet, thank you," samy said again.

"of course. i hope you like everything," will said and she quickly nodded.

"i love it all. you're the best," she leaned forward to embrace him in a tight hug.

there was a sharp knock on the door making them pull apart in surprise even though they weren't even doing anything. luke poked his head in, "we're going out to the beach if you lovebirds aren't just."

"we'll be down in five," samy said and her brother nodded before disappearing.

"are you gonna join our polar plunging?" the girl got up from the bed to find her swimsuit.

"i think i'd like to not freeze, so i'll sit this one out," the blonde laughed.

"okay, suit yourself," samy giggled. she quickly changed, pulling pants and long sleeve shirt over for now so she didn't freeze too much.

her and will were downstairs a minute later.

"last one in loses!" jack exclaimed and rushed out the door. the others called after him, quickly following while the parents just laughed to themselves, opting to also stay inside away from the snowy day.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

FARQUAAD MAKES A TRIUMPHANT RETURN, and with FLYING COLORS!!!! This is DEFINITELY a contender for the silliest thing I've ever drawn. And I'm well aware that I'm essentially jumpscaring everyone for no good reason. It's actually pretty funny. There was no build up to this moment. I wish I could say I'm sorry but I'm really not.

As a small act of mercy, I’ll give you a little bit of context. Earlier this year, I was on a BIG shrek kick. Like, deep in the shrek fandom. Obsessed with the characters. Lore. Watching the movies. (over and over.) And I had the idea to make prints of each shrek villain. So I did jack horner and fairy godmother. I started farquaad, but I never finished coloring him. Filling in the flat colors was just tedious and I didn’t feel like working on it anymore. But recently I closed commissions, and I want to work on prints again. So after working on a comm yesterday, I revived this bad boy. Once I saw it with fresh eyes, I tweaked the colors and worked on the lighting and such. And tadaa!! He’s all done and ready to be print-ified. Next is prince charming >:).

I hope I didn’t scar you too much. I’m actually pretty happy with this, even after all the months that have passed. Watching that clip of him in his bedroom brought back SO many memories of making this drawing. Piecing together the rough layout of his room, planning the perspective - there was a LOT of details involved, like the FGM one. I actually laid down on a blanket at some point and had my sister take reference pictures of me in all these stupid poses. UHHH Those are on my old phone though so I can’t share *Starts sweating nervously*.

I’m excited to add him to my store!! I’ll be sure to make another post when I have the prints all ready to go.

[shintaru]

Yeah, it's you (oh, it's you)

m.list ♡ taglist

Warnings: Wooin, drug use, high on adrenaline, orgasm denial, over stimulation, unprotected sex, fem receiving, cream pie, caught, public sex, not proof read, amateur smut writer

You warm up and stretch preparing for your race. You double check your bike making sure it’s in good condition to race. The teams racing are monster, ghost, & sabbath crew. It won’t be an easy match. After all sabbath crew plays dirty. Monster told you to sit this race out due to sabbath crews game play but you decided against it not wanting to be treated differently because you’re a girl.

Besides you just have to speed past them and you won’t get hurt right? You think trying to reassure yourself. Pulling your hair into a bun showing off the monster crew logo on your back. You put your helmet in and head to the race track.

Somehow you managed to be in between Wooin and his tall friend Joker. "shit" you think to yourself anyone who rides beside Joker falls off their bike, you're just a little relieved that you're no where near Hyuk Kwon aka grim reaper. You get chills just thinking about the way he rides.

The loud guy with colorful hair shouts the rules of the match to all the viewers. “Hey, why don’t we have some fun just the two of us when we win the race?” Wooin says giving you a big grin. You roll your eyes adjusting your helmet. “What makes you think I’d go anywhere alone with you, and we’re winning not you” you reply. “Is monster crew always like this?” Wooin says under his breath but loud enough for you to hear him.

A blaring sound goes off letting you know the race has begun. You stay behind monster trying not to exhaust your energy before you sprint the last stretch. Joker and Wooin speed up right beside you looking over at Joker you can see he’s getting ready to crash into you. He hits his bike against yours and pushes you causing you to lean too far to the side landing on Wooin.

“Can’t stay off of me already” Wooin says smirking “shut up” you reply “I’ll take off first” you tell monster, he nods his head speeding up himself. Slowing down as you come towards the curve you get behind Wooin and speed around him on the other side trying to avoid joker drifting around the curve you crash into Wooin almost knocking you both off bikes.

You’ve passed sabbath crew but you can feel them right behind you. You glance behind you widening your eyes when you see Wooin right behind you with his forked tongue hanging out his mouth. “Where do you think you’re going” he says. “He’s on something” you think to yourself referring to the red capsule you saw him pour into his drink before the race. You try losing him at the next curve but you can’t shake him off. Trying to think of a way to get him off your tail Hwangyeon Choi crashes into you trying to knock Wooin off his bike.

You really think you’re going to fall now but once again you end up leaning against Wooin’s shoulder. “What are you playing at?” You ask him. “I told you already, I want us to have some fun together after the race” he replies. You roll your eyes leaning off his shoulder once you got your balance back. Joker comes out of no where in front of you two keeping Hwangyeon Choi in check. Following him Hyuk kwon does his signature jack knife trick hitting Hwangyeon in the nose sending him flying off his bike.

Seeing as they are distracted making sure Hwangyeons crew isn’t hit on their heels you speed past sabbath crew trying to get as far away as possible from Hyuk Kwon. “Definitely don’t want to race against that lunatic” you think to yourself. You sprint the last stretch with you and Monster coming in first and second place either Joker and Wooin in third and fourth.

Hyuk Kwon got disqualified for his jack knife trick. He isn’t allowed to race in the next race as penalty. You can see Wooin is pissed. “Told you we’d win” you tell him laughing as you walk past him heading to the locker rooms. The rest of your crew stayed back to take pictures and monster started doing squats…“That workout maniac” you say shaking your head in disbelief at his determination before turning around and entering the locker rooms.

You take your suit off leaving your slight sweaty body somewhat exposed you had under shorts and a bra under your suit but you don’t like wearing anything else underneath it gets too hot. Taking your hair down you open your crews locker just for it to slam in your face.

Turning around you’re met Wooin’s piercing gaze. “You think this is funny?” he yells startling you a little. “Well isn’t i?” You ask taking a step closer to him placing your hand on his chest pushing him back a little. “Get out so I can change” you tell him. You turn around to open your locker once again. Before you can put in the code Wooin has turned you around slamming you into the locker making you gasp as the cold metal touches your sweat drenched skin.

Wrapping his tattooed hand around your throat and pulling your face close to his “you don’t understand how angry and turned on i am right now” he says. You’re a little scared with how aggressive he is being with you. His eyes shift from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes. Dragging his thumb over your bottom lip dragging it down he says “let me taste you” you swallow nodding your head in response realizing that’s as close as you’ll get to him asking for your consent.

He wastes no time attaching his lips to yours. He drags his forked tongue across your bottom lip making you moan, he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth tasting you. Pulling away from the kiss you’re both still attached to one another by a string of your mixed saliva that lingers on the both of your lips.

His sticks his fingers in your mouth telling you to suck on them you do as your told. Pulling his fingers out your mouth he slides them into the hem your shorts straight into your underwear. You stop his wrist saying “Wait someone might see us!” He gets closer to your ear and says with a smirk “Isn’t that the fun of it, love?” Sliding two fingers between your folds pushing them into you stretching you out with a scissoring motion.

“Wooin” you moan out gripping onto his forearms for support. He lifts your right leg over his hip holding it there to have better access to you. He rests his forehead on yours still thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “You’re squeezing my fingers so tightly” he says “I’m gonna come” you moan.

Wooin grabs the bottom of your jaw holding it open “You don’t get to come until I say so got it?” He says while spitting in your mouth, pulling his fingers out of you he sticks them in your mouth swirling your juices and his spit on your tongue you moan and suck on his fingers.

You don’t know how you got here but you’re completely naked with your back propped up against the lockers legs wrapped around Wooin’s waist as he thrusts in and out of you with a savage pace. You’re sure your back will have bruises with how hard you’re hitting the locker with each thrust.

Tears stream down your face from the pain. “Slow down it’s too much, it hurts” you plea. “You don’t get to give me orders” He says while licking your tears from your face. He continues fucking you with his rough pace.

"you can take it like the slut you are, right?" Wooin says. You nod your head letting him know you’ll behave. You needed to come so badly so you listened to him.

He stops thrusting in you and carries you over to the bench laying you down. Walking over to sabbath crew’s locker he grabs his clothes from their duffle bag and puts them under your hips. “What are you doing?” You ask “making it easier, what does it look like I’m doing?” You may back on the bench as he pulls your hips to meet his thrusting into them. “Mhm, Wooin” you moan loudly at how deep he’s reaching into you from the new position.

“Someone is going to hear us” you say “If you don’t want them to hear, stop moaning my name so loud” he replies

“I see the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching just switch to sabbath crew” he says. Before you can reply Monster walks in “shit I’m screwed” you think but you feel too good to care right now.

“What’s taking you so long to get changed? We are supposed to train” Monster says walking in on you and Wooin.

He has one hand around your throat and the other fondling with your breast. Removing his tongue from inside your mouth “She’s busy” Wooin replies making eye contact with Monster continuing to thrust into you. Monster exits the locker room pissed at Wooin leaving you trembling beneath the sabbath crew member.

“Damn, I finally got to him” he says laughing. “Cum on my cock” he demands you cum with Wooin. His thrusts don’t stop after he cums making you shudder beneath him you can’t take much more. “Not stopping until I get another one out of you” he says. Your second orgasm comes much faster with Wooin following immediately after. His thrusts slow and come to a stop as he pulls out looking at his cum spilling out of you and says “what a pretty mess we made, told you we’d have fun just the two of us”

You roll your eyes “I’m probably getting kicked off monster crew” you say earning a laugh from wooin. “Looks like we’ll have more time together like this now that you won’t be busy with them” he says.

“Next time I’m riding you” you say pulling him into a kiss. He smirks into the kiss pulling you closer to him by your hips. “Deal” he says breaking from the kiss taking your phone he texts Monster telling him you’ll be switching to sabbath crew. You can’t deny you’ve always had an attraction to the sabbath crew member but you could never act on it. Monster crew being with sabbath? They wouldn’t have allowed it.

Dedicated to @cozyunderworld I hope this was how you pictured it when you requested it

Credits to the owner of the divider posts! I didn’t make them I saved them a while back and unfortunately I don’t remember who made them 😭😭

[impyssadobsessions]

I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

[baronessvonglitter]

All Through the Night

Agent Whiskey x f! junior agent!reader

Word count: 4.4K

Summary: after it's made clear that you're not welcome as a Junior Agent for the Statesman organization, Whiskey takes you under his protection for an unforgettable night

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, mentor/mentee relationship, forbidden relationship, vandalism, nightmares, 'only one bed', first time, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, no use of y/n

JACK DANIELS MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

When you're first introduced to your mentor Agent Whiskey, you're not sure if you'll get along with him. With others he seems friendly, casual, laid-back, flirtatious even. But with you he takes on a sterner tone, as if he's closed off, and from the moment you're paired up as mentor and mentee, he treats you with nothing more than solemnity. Throughout your training he doesn't praise you as you honestly wish he would, just gives a curt nod, arms crossed, mouth set in a firm line, eyes giving nothing away.

It doesn't really help that you come from a rival agency, igniting all kinds of rumors. None of the other trainees get close to you. You find it pointless to try to change their minds. You've been alone most of your life, so why try to make friends now? Especially when you're in competition with each other.

You rise through the ranks quickly, an apt pupil and adroit agent. With each test you pass with flying colors, you expect something more from Jack Daniels himself to show he's proud of your progress, even just a smile, a pat on the shoulder, but he remains as unmoved as ever.

The day comes when you're given your official agent name, and in a flurry of excitement you rush to claim yours, only for your expression to turn quizzical when you hear what your new alias is. "What the hell is a Gimlet?" you finally ask as you burst into your mentor's office.

Jack glances up at you quickly, obviously in the middle of an important call, and tells the other line he'll call them back. You pick up on the ghost of a smile that passes his lips before he catches himself and turns serious again.

"Sorry," you tell him. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "Classified information," is all he says. But you see the look of worry in his eyes, the way he casts his gaze upon you, you can't tell if he wants you to stay or needs you to leave.

"Was Gimlet your idea?" you accuse him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Nope. Wasn't my idea." As usual your heart does a triple beat at the sound of his deep voice, the Southern twang. Lately you've realized you've developed a little crush on him, but your education and your training are paramount at this point in your life. You can't be thinking about him this way, even though it's a hard feeling to suppress.

Uninvited, you sit on the edge of his desk, waiting for him to command you to get off. He doesn't. "Sounds like a Lord of the Rings character.. Gimlet.." you do a raspy little monster voice, and Jack crooks his eyebrow, looking like he wants to explode in laughter. "Sorry we can't all be as cool as Whiskey," you grin. "Oh, see that frown? Now that's what I call a Whiskey Sour."

He glares at you with mock severity and you take this moment to try to mess with him a little, to get him to open up.

"No-go on the Whiskey Sour, got it. How about 'Ten Gallon'? 'Billy the Kid'? 'Butch Cassidy?'" Teasing him is so much fun simply because you know he's an easy target, and it's as close as you've come to flirting with him.

He sighs in defeat. "You're thinking of 'Gimli.' From Lord of the Rings."

You shake your head, a smile bursting onto your lips. "Nerd."

"You really want me to lose this fight, don't you?"

"You've already lost, Roy Rogers." You playfully flick the brim of his hat.

A noticeable blush shows on his face as he straightens his hat, and as he clears his throat he adjusts himself in his chair. "So. You're using all the western ones, huh?"

"It's on theme, wouldn't you agree?"

He holds back a smirk. "Don't you have a codebreaking class to be in soon?" He stands up from his chair, adjusting his the waistband of his jeans, inadvertently drawing your attention to that area. Maybe you're imagining it, but it looks as though he's trying to hide the bulge evidencing his excitement.

Reluctantly you take the hint, getting off his desk. "So you're not going to tell me what that call was about? Shouldn't I be in the loop?"

Jack looks like he wants to spill the beans, his lips part as if to speak, and you can't help but imagine how soft those lips would feel against yours, what the slide of his tongue into your mouth would taste like. "All I can tell you is we're bumping up security on you. It's one of those 'the less you know, the better' type of deals, sweetheart."

It's the first time he's ever used a pet name for you and it sends the butterflies in your stomach in a frenzy. "Are you sure?" you ask, taking one more step towards him.

You hear him exhale, his dark brown eyes flickering with doubt. The moment between you feels like it could change everything. "I'm sure," he says at last.

You nod and start to leave, glad that at least a little progress had been made in that you got him to crack a smile.

"It's a cocktail," he says, and you turn back to look at him. "A gimlet.. it's made with gin, lime juice, and sugar."

A smile grows on your lips. "Sounds delicious.. but I really would prefer something cooler like 'French 75' or 'Absinthe.'"

"Adios, Junior Agent Gimlet.." Arms crossed, he signals it's time for you to skedaddle.

As you leave he can't help looking at your ass, the gentle sway of your hips. He's imagined all kinds of things since the day you were partnered with him, and he's managed to sequester those feelings from the way he's supposed to treat you. Times when you sought him out for his esteem, his recognition, he only fractioned it, hoping to keep the boundaries between you, make it easier on him to deny what he feels, but it's only made it worse.

Truth is, he's not only proud of you, but you've managed to get to him like no one has before. It's not just a protectiveness he feels towards you, but something deeper has grown. He hates to admit this to himself. And now, just before you made your animated entrance into his office, he was informed about a problem the agency was facing, one he couldn't share with you, at least not yet. Hell, even telling you to be careful would just set you on alarm, so he has to pretend everything is fine while you're unaware. While he's well aware you can handle your own, he just wants to keep you out of harm's way.

The rest of the day you can't help noticing that he's there, nearby. He's there when you're at lunch in the dining area, when you're studying in the library, when you're at weapons training. Not that you mind at all. You approach him towards the end of the day as you're headed back towards your dorm. "You're my security detail, aren't you?"

"You figured that out pretty quick."

"You're not exactly stealthy," you smirk.

"That stings, darlin'. But I'm not supposed to be stealthy. Just need to keep you safe."

"You're still not going to tell me why?"

He just shakes his head as he walks you to your room.

You sigh. "Are you going to stay out here all night? Like a guard or something?"

"If that's what I have to do."

It should bother you that you don't have much privacy, that your every move is going to be monitored. You assume it has something to do with your previous agency, but there's a small part of you that lacks the courage to address it. Looking at Jack, you wonder if he suspects you of wrongdoing, or if he's simply following orders.

"Good night then," you shrug. "Just remember: you'd be bored without me." Playfully sticking your tongue at him you slip inside your room.

"I'd go insane without you," he whispers just as your door clicks shut.

Not a few seconds later, he hears you calling his name, and he rushes inside to find you frozen, staring at your ransacked room. Upended furniture, your personal belongings thrown and scattered around. Drawers emptied and tossed aside. Your bed torn apart, your mirrors broken.

Questions form in your mouth but die on your lips. You have no idea who and even less idea of why. Jack immediately jumps into action, calling for a full sweep of the room for any evidence the intruder or intruders may have left behind. Meanwhile, feeling helpless, you stand out in the hallway, arms folded over your chest as the security team hurries in to investigate. You're asked to come in to check if anything was stolen, but seeing the few precious items you have still intact in your hiding place, you come to the conclusion that whoever did this was just out to scare you.

"Do they usually do things like this?" you mumble as Jack waits with you in the hallway. Some of the other junior agents are peeking out to see what's going on, and upon seeing your death glare they go back inside their dorms. "Seems petty to initiate someone by doing something so cruel."

"Sweetheart, I don't think it was no initiation," he says. "I'm pretty sure you don't think that either."

It finally catches up to you, the loneliness you've suppressed, the emotions you've had to swallow because you wanted your work to be your life. The friends you didn't make have now all turned to possible enemies. It's the loneliest feeling you've ever had.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," Jack tells you, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead. "I'm here. And I'm not letting you out of my sight."

You nod, grateful for his assuring words. "I thought I didn't care, but I just hate feeling so unwanted here," you swallow the tears that threaten to fall, having kept strong for so long.

Watching you like this is a dagger to his heart. You're usually so upbeat, so full of sass, and this incident bringing you this low really breaks him. He wipes your tears away. Your fear is normal, and even though he can't promise to remove it completely, he wants to at least make you feel a little better. "This is why I don't want.. just the thought of you being in danger.."

Your eyes grow wide as you stamp down the hope that he's speaking from anything more than a mentor standpoint. "Danger is what you're training me for.. why don't you want me near it?"

Jack clenches his jaw. He doesn't want to admit what goes against all rational thought, against all logic. He's protective because of how he feels about you. When did he become such a weak fool? He inhales and exhales slowly, hardening his features to hide his emotions. "I just don't like the thought of you getting hurt."

All you can do is absorb this information and store it away to think about another day. "I don't want to stay in there. The whole room feels.. violated." You cross your arms, shivering.

His mouth is dry as he asks, "Do you want to come spend the night in my room? It's safe, no one's getting in there. I'll keep watch the entire night."

Blinking, you grasp what he's offering. "Only if it's really okay with you."

"Your room is so you," you compliment, looking at the decor as Jack brings you inside his room. "Very masculine. Very John Wayne." The walls are decorated with buffalo prints and mounted longhorn steer antlers, and above you there are wooden ceiling beams, which draw your attention to the adobe fireplace in the corner of the room. Both woven and cowhide rugs lay at various places on the floor. You take from him the bundle of clothing and hygienic necessities you brought from your room and go into his restroom to quickly change and wash up for the night.

"So, where should I sleep?" you ask, emerging from the restroom.

"You take the bed," he says gruffly. "I'll take the sofa," he says, already making himself comfortable.

"You're sure?" You start to feel bad for disrupting his peace.

"Of course I'm sure. Where else you gonna sleep? The closet?"

You laugh a little, starting to feel more at ease. "In that case.." you tentatively climb into his bed, done in western prints, the headboard made of brown leather.

He watches you get into his bed. There's a certain gracefulness to the everyday action. Damn if everything about you doesn't arouse him. He has to take a deep breath to keep himself grounded. But it's his bed you're getting into, your skin touching his sheets, your head resting on his pillow. He clenches his jaw.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" you ask.

"I can stay awake all night if I have to. Make sure you're safe."

"Whiskey, you don't have to do that.."

A little smile crosses his lips. "Then I'll sleep once you're asleep."

"Once I'm asleep just get in with me. This is your room and I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed."

His heart beats double-time at your suggestion. There's no way she can possibly mean that he tells himself. "I'm fine here," he says, nearly choking on his words.

You nod against his pillow, which has his scent. "Well if you change your mind.. this mattress is heavenly." You close your eyes and shift your hips so you can lay on your side.

Damn it. That isn't something he needs to hear. He doesn't need your voice to sound so damn alluring like that. The way your hips roll as you shift position is sending his mind to places he doesn't need to go right now. He takes his eyes off you just to alleviate the flow of blood to his dick, which is already pretty hard.

It's late when he realizes you're finally deeply asleep. From where he rests on the sofa he watches you sleep, admires your beauty in the dim light of the room. He doesn't realize he's also fallen asleep until he hears you cry out in your sleep, your body tossing about. He jolts awake and goes to you, wraps his arms around you as if to shield you from your nightmares. "Sweetheart, wake up," he says gently. "I've got you."

You wake, shivering, your nightmare still looming large in your mind's eye until Jack's soothing embrace eases you back to reality. "It was so real," you mutter, taking a gulp of water from a glass that he offers you. "Would you.. would you get in with me? I just need to be held right now."

He hesitates only a moment before getting in on the other side of the bed. You slide over to make room, then scoot back towards him, allowing him to pull you close with his arm around you.

And damn it if he doesn't love the way you feel against him.

Not asleep yet, you let your body get into a comfortable place, basking in the warmth of his body, your hands resting on his, settled just below your chest. Without thinking about it, you trace the outlines of his fingers, his hands much larger than yours. His other hand is just above your hip, warm, pleasant.

Actually, 'pleasant' is too gentle a word to describe it. It's an intimate touch without being too forward. So many intrusive thoughts come to your mind. And in this rare moment of closeness, you let them win.

Closing your eyes you take a deep, silent breath as you take his hand from your hip and lead it lower, beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. Jack gives a little growl, indulging in the feel of your soft, smooth skin against his fingertips. "We shouldn't be doin' this," he whispers as his hand stills. You can feel the thumping of his heartbeat against your back. "We're breaking a lot of rules right now, just bein' here like this."

You can't help feeling a little guilty. You got yourself into this mess and all he did was try to pull you out. And now you were just a huge inconvenience, apart from also being a huge temptation. "No one would know but us," you tell him, turning on your side to face him. "I know you're my mentor, but I'm not a child. I want this."

He's quiet a moment, looking into your eyes, and for a moment you fear he will reprimand you, turn you down. It would be the worst embarrassment you can imagine. But then he leans in and kisses you, softly at first then with more pressure, and your lips part for his tongue as yours presses against his.

His hands make their way down your body, trailing across your skin as if you're the most delicate thing he's ever seen. Your hips rise up, inviting his touch, and damn it if he isn't ready to just rip your clothes off. Your body buzzes with exhilaration as Jack presses kisses down your neck, your chest, all the way down to give a kiss on your hip. "Is this okay?" he asks, breath shallow as his eyes search yours.

"Yes," comes your whimpering reply, and your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the border where your pajama shorts meet your thigh, and he slowly pulls them down. You arch your back, lifting your hips to help him, and your panties and shorts come off in one go as he slides them down your thighs until he removes them completely.

"I want to see all of you," he whispers, and you nod, pulling up your top, completely exposed to him. You watch him with wide eyes, awaiting his reaction.

Jack licks his lips, looking as though he could devour you. But he takes his time, his fingers slowly tracing up your torso, gently cupping your breasts and grazing his thumb across your nipples. Your sweet little gasp sends sparks firing in his eyes. "You're so sensitive to my touch," he whispers, as if witnessing a miracle. He laps his tongue over each bud, pursing his lips around it and groaning in need as you moan, lifting your hips to his. Even through his night clothes he can feel your heat, your moisture. "I need to taste you," he growls.

"Wait," you whisper. "I need to tell you.. I've never done this before."

This is something he doesn't expect. You always seem so sure of yourself, so direct in what you want, that he never would have thought you'd be inexperienced. "You really want me to be your first?" he asks, growing excited at the prospect of being with you.

"I want this.. with you," you assure him. "There's no one I trust more."

That's all he needs to hear from you. You're giving yourself to him, trusting him. "That means the world to me," he tells you. And with that, he doesn't hesitate. His hands move down your waist, across your hips and between your thighs. Spurred on by your shuddering sigh, he traces your slick folds with his fingertips until you beg him to finally touch you deeper. He eases two fingers in and out, his thumb tracing circular motions over you clit, barely restraining a growl as you eagerly clamp down on his digits. He watches, rapt, as you bite your lip to keep from moaning. He wants to give you more, to make you see stars while he's showing you what it can be like between lovers.

You feel like a god damn queen the moment he slips further down between your legs, gently raising them and getting himself settled. Heart hammering wildly, you gasp as you feel his tongue on your clit, gently sweeping over the sensitive flesh as he continues to work his fingers in and out. On a gasp your fingers grab his hair, causing him to growl and cup your butt with both hands as he resumes his attention on you, tongue flicking over your clit, along your folds, dipping into your crease, lapping up your sweet honey as if he's never going to have another meal ever again. Your blood grows hot and you're unable to even think of anything else but the burgeoning pleasure, and just when you think you might explode from need, the sweet, pulsing feeling takes over. You cry out loud, quivering as Jack makes you come.

He pulls away slowly once you're done, pressing gentle kisses on the insides of your thighs, working his way back up your body with his lips. "You okay there, darlin'? Need a minute to collect yourself?"

You nod, laughing a little, on the verge of giggles because your body has just experienced something so wonderful. "I'm good.. I'm perfect.." you manage to say, and there's a light in your eyes that affirms this.

"You are perfect, we are in agreement on that," he smiles, tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face, still flushed from your orgasm.

"Jack," you whisper, using his given name for the first time. "I'm ready.. I want you."

There's a delicious urgency as you help him remove his night clothes. His masculine build exceeds anything you have fantasized about him. His chest is broad with a sprinkling of light brown hair on his chest, and more of that curly hair leads from his navel down to his cock, which he encourages you to touch. It's thick, warm, heavy in your hand, growing more firm with each little stroke you give him.

You both have a need required to be met, but Jack wants to do this slowly, to build it up and make it the best possible experience for you. He has a strong desire to tear into you but he restrains himself, opting instead to kiss you softly, pressing himself to your warmth. He wants you to be a complete puddle for him to take care of once he's finished with you.

As he explores your body you explore his, running your hands over his muscled arms and back, savoring every part. You whimper as he pulls you closer, and your heart gallops. Before he loses himself in the moment, Jack reaches into his bedside drawer for a condom and carefully puts it on, then goes back to kissing you, gently nudging your thighs apart to make room for him. "If you want to stop, tell me," he says to you, and you reply with a kiss, eagerly bringing your body to his and he has no other thought in his head than to make you his once and for all.

Your eyes lock with his as he presses forward, easing himself in just a little at a time. Jesus, the pressure is so sweet, he's only an inch or so in and already he's stretching you. "I'm gonna take it easy with ya, cowgirl," he whispers, pulling out then easing back in, wanting you to be as wet as possible so you can take all of him. Your sweet, sharp little intakes of breath let him know you're feeling good, that you need more, and with each stroke he goes in deeper, until you're completely filled with him, as if you've needed him this way forever, as if you'd been born just to be his.

"You feel so good," you tell him, placing a kiss upon his neck, the skin of his throat rosy with the labor of holding back.

He sighs. eyes closed then open again because he wants to see you laid out beneath him this way. "God, you feel so right.." He moves his hips against you in slow, fluid movements, and in turn you take more of him into you, giving him a home within you. Jack's lips move over yours, then nuzzle your neck, tracing circular patterns over your breasts and back again, while your hands explore his broad shoulders, his brawny arms and the steady pacing of the pistoning of his hips driving against yours as the euphoria within your heart swells. "There's my good girl.. ah, such a tight fit.. but you're so nice and wet for me.."

"More," you gasp, nails lightly scratching on his back, and he gives you just that, taking your breath away as your bodies move together, quickly, towards your common goal. The electricity grows between you, the sweet, sweet friction doubles in your efforts, eliciting desperate moans and sweet gasps. Jack can feel the tension growing within you, the excitement building up to its greatest height. Jack whispers, "That's it, my sweet darlin', come for me.. oh I can feel you squeezin' all around me.." You whisper his name in a frenzy of desire, whisper it like a prayer as you feel the pleasure climb higher and higher. Without warning you shatter beneath him, crying out as you come.

Your sounds are the most divine music ever played. He can no longer hold back, gaining momentum as he brings himself to the tipping point, burying his face in your neck when he comes, releasing with a satiated exhale. You hold onto him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. He looks up and smiles at you. "You doin' okay, darlin'?" he asks. His body is still but he remains inside of you, wanting to keep the feeling a little longer.

"I think I can die happy having experienced that with you," you sigh, tracing the outline of his jaw.

"You're too sweet," he shakes his head, grinning like a fool as he kisses your lips. "And I'd be more than happy to do that again and again.."

"Oh?" Your heart jumps for joy. "I suppose I could find time for that to happen," you tease him.

Jack smiles and nibbles on your neck. "Good, because I can think up a few other things to try."

You blush, despite still being naked and entangled with him. "What kinds of things?"

"Things like new positions, new places.. maybe once you're comfortable you'll let me tie you down and give you a little tease.." he smirks. "You know, just a few thoughts," he says casually with a gleam in his eye before kissing you gently.

"Holy hell," you whisper, utterly turned on again as you return his kiss. "I can't wait.."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[dragonridernoobie]

Miko, Rag, Jack with predicon , liked predicon holoform is human but it best describes as an old person who have highest authority in the Yakuza/Mafia, as the kids comes over to visit the autobots the predicon made traditional Japanese food and helping them with work and also telling them if they all get a B or higher in their test they'll get something nice for them as a reward

Like any grandparents would

Hmmmm, i love this. Let's hope you enjoy this also.

TFPKids x Predicon Reader

When (Y/N) joined team prime, it was quite the surpise. Especially for the kids of team prime. Since meeting (Y/N), she has become a second guardian for them.

When ratchet finally developed a device that makes Team Prime have human forms, also known as HaloForms, the kids got to see (Y/N)'s haloform.

What they weren't expected was an old lady who looked in their early 60's, had a sweet voice and gray hair, and seemed to already have candies that only grandmas have. (If you know, you know)

Even though (Y/N) was old and not able to help Team prime with fights, she helped out by watching the kids. She did not mind one bit, though.

When the kids get to base, (Y/N) asked them about their day, checks their grades and helps them with homework that they have.

When they are sick, (Y/N) offers meals she knows how to cook. Soups that haven't been heard before that went known from the years of people passing it down or forgetting it.

(Y/N) was called dragon granny. She was happy with that name and took it with pride.

Jack

Jack came to base after a long day.

He was stressed and exhausted, and he failed a history test because he just couldn't understand how Rome fell.

When (Y/N) noticed Jack acting different, she asked what was wrong.

When he explained, (Y/N) told him none worries and offered to teach him.

By teaching him, she means taking him back to her cave were she has artifacts from diffrent points from human history.

There, she showed diffrent artifacts and the story behind them while explaining the story behind Rome.

Jack passed with flying colors when he retook the test.

Miko

When miko came to base, she started ranting about an old Japanese soup that haven't been made in thousands years since people forgot how to make it.

While she talked to bulkhead about this, (Y/N) over heard and asked Miko if she ment the soup oden.

Miko explained she wants to learn it since only a selective amount of humans know the recipe and it's slowly disappearing from history.

(Y/N) explained that she knows how to cook it. Since she has been on earth since 25BCE (don't correct me because I actually don't know if that's a real date so.)

For the next 3 days, (Y/N) showed miko how to make oden and made sure she remmbers.

Miko was so happy about it that she taught her parents back home.

RAPH

Raphael went to (Y/N) when he found out (Y/N) has been on earth so long she has seen the rise and fall of all civilizations.

Raphael asked questions about China, Japan, India, Europe, even Mexico.

He asked about how the civilizations back then acted and what they used in everyday life since he wanted to compare today's items

(Y/N) told she can just show him and brings him to her cave.

There, she shows him all the swords, old pots, armor, foods, etc. That was from back then that were offerings to her.

Since back then, people thought she was a god.

Raphael wrote down everything and definitely made his day.

[linkemon]

Raining chocolates (Jack Frost x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

[ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴠɪᴇᴡꜱ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇꜱ!

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

— Are they arguing again? — Tooth looked uncertainly towards the hall.

— Yes but at least the chocolate boxes are flying! — North caught the package mid-flight.

Satisfied, he tore the dark red, shiny paper. Inside he found a mixture of pralines. He was trying to decide which flavour he should choose when a snowball flew above his head. Unfazed, he decided to eat the entire package at once.

— Maybe we should separate them? — The fairy was nervously flying next to the fireplace.

— That's what I'm talking about! — The Bunny wiped the snow from his face.

Judging by the dirt on his paws, he had just jumped out of the tunnel. He didn't like the welcome snowball straight to the forehead.

— I do not see a problem. — Santa continued to eat the best nut chocolates.

He was interrupted by a loud bang.

He rushed towards the argument. The corridor looked like a battlefield. The entire batch of robots was lying on the floor. Dolls and blocks followed suit. The production machine turned off. There were screws and wires sticking out of it. The paint poured straight onto the carpet, dyeing it rainbow colors. Yeti, in charge of production, was sitting in the corner. He covered his head with one paw and stuffed chocolate hearts with the other. Two Guardians stood in the colourful chaos.

— Valentine's Day should be joyful! — Jack Frost was making a new snowball in his hands.

— Get on with your job! — [Reader] deftly dodged the throw.

— North, good to have you here! Tell her. Love is a beautiful, joyful feeling, isn't it? So the holiday should be like that too! — he said as if it were the most obvious truth.

— You know nothing! Who is the Spirit of Valentine's Day here? You or me?

The girl took out her bow. In a second, she reached for an arrow from the pink quiver. She was already drawing the string when a loud voice interrupted her:

— Enough of this! I don't care who started it — North added as the two prepared to explain. — You'll clean it all up. Every single toy, got it?

***

— You know what she once told me? — North put his arm around Jack. — That love is ten percent joy and ninety percent suffering. Do not interrupt me. — He glared as he saw the guard open his mouth. — She has good reason to think so. I don't agree with her but I don't question her work and neither should you.

They had already passed the main hall and three floors and the boy was beginning to wonder where they were going. It took him a while to understand the purpose of the strangely long trip.

North grabbed him by the hood and then unceremoniously pushed him over the threshold of the room. When the boy heard the lock click, he knew something was up.

— But it's a bit inhumane. — He heard Toothiana's voice from behind the door.

— They didn't act like humans when they demolished the quarters! And now they will sit there until they make up!

The winter spirit yanked on the doorknob. Unsuccessfully.

He turned around and saw what he feared most. [Reader] was sitting on the couch. She was slowly realizing the situation they were in. A closed room without windows made escape impossible. If they want to leave, they have to come to an agreement.

He walked over to the sofa and sat down on the opposite end from his companion. He stared stubbornly at the fireplace. Orange flames licked the pieces of wood. They produced unbearable heat. The winter spirit didn't like it. He would much rather have the fire extinguished but he had no intention of moving. [Reader] was getting cold quickly. Why did he even care? He convinced himself that it would escalate the argument and left it at that. Because there's no way he would care about her...

Out of boredom, he started counting the seconds. He wanted to estimate the time he would spend in the room. However, he quickly gave up. Instead, he pulled the nearest pillow, placed it under his head, and decided to take a nap.

— Did he bring you here too, saying he wanted to talk? — The spirit of Valentine's Day couldn't stand the silence.

— Yeah — he muttered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl shift uncomfortably.

— So maybe we can pretend we've made up and just leave here, huh?

The boy turned his head towards her. He hadn't expected it but the idea was tempting.

— I'm in. — He smiled mischievously.

He was already getting up from the couch when the plan backfired.

— I heard everything, you cheaters. You two should really get along! — Santa shouted from behind the door. — I'll know if you lied to me!

There was a slight threat in his tone.

— North, you weren't supposed to eavesdrop! — Toothiana's loud voice joined the conversation. — Don't disturb mind him, little ones! — she added sweetly.

For a moment, a scuffle could be heard. Then the sounds gradually faded away. Apparently they're gone.

Resigned, the boy sat back down between the soft pillows. Now the idea of using tricks stopped running through his mind. First of all, it would be suspicious. Secondly, although he didn't want to admit it, he was a little afraid of the Guardian of Christmas. His pleasant exterior concealed a weird man.

He decided to look at the room. Unfortunetely, it was empty. The brown boards were starting to get old. The wallpaper with a motif of red and green baubles was eye-catching. The thick, heavy curtains showed traces of dust. Frost preferred not to know the last time someone decided to swipe it out. Seeing the gray layer on the mantelpiece, he felt the urge to clean the room. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to kill time this way, he had no way to do it. The yeti probably took out the rest of the furniture. As always. Why were they doing this? Nobody knew that. When asked about this, the creatures grunted in their own language and continued doing their thing. For this reason, rearrangements in the quarters were frequent. Sometimes even the owner of the bed woke up in a different place than where he fell asleep.

Unfortunately, the tour did not kill the boredom. It was too short.

Jack sat behind the couch and started playing with his staff. He conjured two snow hares. He bet on who would reach the finish line first. He set his end point at the other end of the room. Later he started changing animal species. He wasn't having the best time but he couldn't think of anything else.

— Can you make buildings too? — [Reader]'s voice came from above.

She leaned out from the couch, looking at the frosty creations jumping, running, crawling, and swimming across the floor.

— Yes, of course. Any special requests? — He turned around.

It was a reflex. The Guardian of Fun did not refuse to give joy to others. Especially when it was within his capabilities. Only after a while did it occur to him that they were still quarreling, so maybe he shouldn't break away so eagerly.

— Could you make a hut?

Frost's first instinct was to create his family home but he suspected that wasn't the point.

— A little more sloping roof — added the girl — and an orchard on the left.”

The boy listened attentively, following the instructions. Soon, a snow model was created. The house was surrounded by a fence. Little cows and pigs were grazing nearby. They were also accompanied by a troop of hens led by a rooster. The Spirit of Winter had a slight problem with the flowers. He didn't know much and suspected that the garden turned out hopelessly. But he had trees in his little finger. Probably because he often jumped on them, playing with the wind.

— I guess that's all.

He didn't even notice when the Guardian of Love took a seat next to him on the hard boards. She stared as if enchanted at the image stretching before her. The smile that graced her face let him know that he had done a good job after all. There was a lot of melancholy in her look.

— It this your home? — he asked.

— Yeah... — She touched a small sheep in the middle of the pasture. — It was until... until I became... you know.

Dead. This word came to mind. Their friends would probably think about their jobs. They'd put it more like: Before I became a Guardian... They stopped being alive a long time ago. However, like him, she was relatively young. As young as you can be after several hundred years. She still remembered.

— I drowned. — He felt like his own voice sounded foreign.

Why exactly did he tell her that? After all, she didn't ask him anything.

However, he continued the story when he saw her break away from the model.

Jack still remembered the brown, worn-out skates. He rode them across the frozen lake. He was fourteen then. He was doing quite well. No one in the village could ride so nimbly. His younger sister was just studying. She took uncertain steps. She was getting better and better. After all, she was doing it under his supervision. And yet, that afternoon, it would all end. The crunch of ice that heralded disaster was still ringing in his ears. He tried to get Mary to jump aside. Just like in Hopscotch — a game he once invented. He failed and instinctively used the staff. It was enough to push her to safety. However, he landed underwater himself. The feeling of momentary relief was replaced by shock. He tried desperately to breathe. Jack couldn't find any support for his hands. The cold seeped into his bones. He was unable to get out of the icy water. The longer he fought, the faster he lost strength. Later, in a hazy memory, he still remembered going to the bottom. Jack was surrounded by darkness and piercing cold. He closed his eyes from exhaustion. The next time he opened his eyes, the Moon was above him. Then he was spared a second life. So much time had passed, and yet the memory was still fresh. Especially after he lost them to the Black and fought to get them back.

[Reader] wordlessly placed her hand on his own. She didn't say anything but he knew she understood. It wasn't easy to forget about your death. Nor come to terms with a lost life but watching the people he loved grow old and pass away seemed the cruelest thing to him.

— They sentenced me to beheading — she said in a quiet voice.

He didn't push. He had no right to do this. He was surprised when she continued.

The story began with an ordinary day in the countryside with her boyfriend. He was a serious candidate for a fiancé. He worked as a castle assistant. Frost began to wonder exactly how many years ago the Spirit of Valentine's Day had died. If she remembered such times, she must have been older than he had previously thought. Due to these thoughts, Jack lost the thread of the story until she started talking about the theft.

Thanks to his work, the boy easily stole a jewel from a rich lord's box. As luck would have it, the family brooch would attract the attention of every neighbour in the area. Lack of sufficient caution resulted in a denunciation. The devastated [Reader] didn't know what to do. Until he said he wanted to spend the money on a wedding. Something broke inside her. Ultimately, what tipped the scales was the fact that he had a family to support. She was just an orphan working on a farm. She decided to sacrifice herself. With a heavy heart, she went to the castle, where she confessed her guilt. No one asked how on earth she could do it, since no one would even let her into the salons. Yet the court seemed satisfied. No attention was even paid to the lies and ambiguities. They omitted the absurdities contained in them. Another head-to-head trial meant a quicker break.

From the whole story, one sentence stuck in Frost's mind: I will never love anyone like I love you. This is what the thief promised to the Spirit of Valentine's Day before she sacrificed herself for him. He sensed this would be important from the way she quoted it. As if she had engraved it in her memory, somewhere deep in her mind.

— Do you know what happened when I got a second life? — she sighed. — That I died just so he could marry another woman. He waited a week. Week. Apparently he was counting on my naivety and he succeeded. — She went back to playing with the snow model.

— I'm sorry. — He wasn't sure if a cliché could do any good.

Such sentences rarely brought relief. They were repeated out of habit. Probably because people had no words for certain situations.

— You don't have to be sorry. — She smiled slightly. — You gave me a lot of joy, as befits the Guardian of Fun. I was able to see the farm where I grew up once again.

— Have you been there?

— A few times. Today there are lots of apartment blocks there. It has changed over the years. —  She shrugged and looked at him. — Do you know why I told you all this?

He thought she was trying to repay history for history. And yet this wasn't the answer she was counting on. So he fell silent.

— Because I see love differently than you. Over the course of four hundred and fifty-two years, I have encountered so many different shades of this feeling that you can't even imagine. I consoled those crying after the loss of loved ones. I have seen mothers sacrifice themselves for the sake of their children. How people die from diseases, away from their loved ones. And also how they spend their old age together and overcome problems together. That's why I think I'm a better Guardian of Love than the Spirit of Valentine's Day. I help people celebrate what is important every day. This one day of the year is not that special. So please don't interfere with my work anymore, she concluded. — I'll stay in my quarters on the 14th. This holiday will be fine without me, just like before.

— Let's say I agree, although I still think you should go out and see people having fun... — He noticed how much she wanted to interrupt him —...but I won't question the way you work anymore. Okay? — He held out his hand.

— Okay. Now let's go shout some more. Maybe they'll hear that it's time to let us go. There is absolutely nothing to do here.

***

— If this is some stupid joke, I swear you'll get an arrow up your ass… — [Reader] muttered.

Jack didn't blame her for complaining. She was blindfolded, so he led her by the hand. He didn't think this through. He should have handed it over only at the bottom of the stairs. So he had to deal with an uncomfortable situation for three floors. He even offered to let them fly with a staff but the Guardian of Love wouldn't hear of it.

— Almost there! — He removed the cloth, revealing the headquarters.

He was glad that the yetis had managed to repaint the decorations. The blue color would spoil the whole effect. Now they could admire the rows of red and pink hearts. They decorated every corner. Soft pillows in the same color were placed on the sofa and in front of it. They also managed to repair the TV. Although there was never any reception here, the player worked flawlessly. Tooth was sorting through a pile of old films. Bunny kept complaining that she only chose romantic comedies. He preferred to see a bloody horror movie. Sandy was almost asleep standing up, sending sand hearts up from time to time. Behind him, on the table, there were mixed chocolates. North was stuffing himself with them, so Frost kept the rest of his food supplies in his room. Otherwise, they might run out quickly and the fun was only just beginning.

— Why doesn't this surprise me? — The girl rubbed her temple.

— Just so we're clear, I'm not interfering with your work. —  He rested his head on his staff. — I do my duty. I jumped at the chance and we're going to have a fun evening.

He gave her his trademark smile. He was surprised to see that she didn't yell at him after all. He was secretly pleased with it, although he hadn't counted on it. She also seemed to be having a good time with her friends.

Valentine's Day night passed quickly. Hardly anyone made it to the morning. After three movies, most Guardians were teary-eyed. Jack sat between the snoring Bunny and [Reader], who was sprawled on his shoulder. He was uncomfortable but he didn't move. He didn't want to wake anyone up. The movie was still playing. Frost didn't focus on the plot. Everything that was happening started to escape him a few scenes ago. He pulled a small heart out of his sweatshirt pocket. They handed out shiny pieces of paper to each other. Everyone had to write something nice about the other person. They promised not to read them until the next day but purely theoretically the new day had already lasted for several hours. So he smiled to himself, satisfied with this justification and opened all the Valentines one by one.

Thank you.

That one word let him know he had done a good job. Maybe next year he'll be able to take her out to celebrate with others.

PS Will you be my Valentine?

This sentence, in turn, sent a rush of heat through him. He was used to embarrassing others, not being  embarassed. And certainly not like this. The matter was explained by the other side of the heart. Marked with marker:

YOU'VE BEEN FOOLED!

He promised himself that he would never admit that she was right. In the morning he will pretend that he saw it after all. This was the plan. However, somewhere in the corner of his mind there was the thought of what he would do if it wasn't a joke...

[kariachi]

I've said it before, I say it a lot honestly, but I love the reasonable assumptions we can make about firelizards breeding and social habits based on what we see in primarily DragonsDawn.

Like, we've got the basic 'greens Rise a lot and don't tend their nests while golds Rise more rarely and fiercely tend their nests'. That's great, we love us some behavioral morphs in species. But then you also have to consider what would lead to such a thing, namely that both of these behaviors have to be successful, and successful in comparison to each other, in order for one to not completely take over from the other. Meaning that each option has benefits over the other.

For instance, in years or seasons where there's a large predator population, gold clutches are probably the most successful as they're the best guarded. But if you're dealing with horrible weather, or gods forbid a Pass, the fact green clutches are spread out far and wide means it's more likely one or more will survive, while a gold needs just one bad storm or Fall to wipe her whole year's breeding opportunities off the map.

But like, the most obvious one is a pure numbers game. If you don't invest in your eggs post-laying, that frees you up to get back into laying condition sooner and make more eggs. For instance in emus you'll see a female lay 5+ eggs in a single nest, but then she leaves that business to the male and runs off to eat well and find another guy to foist eggs on, ending up with sometimes even five nests in a season. But if you do invest in your eggs post-laying, you get more security in-so-far as assuring your eggs hatch. In emus the males do that, they get the best of both worlds there, but even more effective is to have multiple individuals looking out for the eggs.

Which is where their eusocial-style behavior comes in! By having the rest of the group dedicated to supporting the gold as she guards and tends her nest, the cost of nest tending is spread out, reducing the load on any one member of the group. The same thing happens with youngcare, which seems to be wholly communal, again reducing the cost for any individual member of the group. But eusocial behaviors are most efficient when members of a group are related, you don't want to waste your life raising young that don't share your genes.

Then you remember that firelizards form mental bonds at birth, bonds that they can break with no issue but that they can and do maintain throughout their lives. Taking this and the last paragraph into account, most likely collections of wild firelizards are mostly formed of sibling groups. Even if your bronze brother didn't catch the gold this year, helping with the clutch improves the odds he'll catch next year, and in the meantime you have plenty of opportunity with the greens.

This also probably plays into the fact they hum for all allied births. A green's nest doesn't get tended, but the young still need feeding at hatching. If you're a male then coming when you get the psychic 'birth here now' signals is an easy choice because there's the real chance these are your brother's offspring and his reproductive success is second only to your own. If you're a female, this nest is likely a sister's, in which case same deal, their success is only second to yours. On either side, having more babies around means a higher chance of any individual baby not being eaten by a predator, increasing the survival odds of your own children.

And then all this likely plays into the various male morphs and the color and size differences between ranks. I've mentioned elsewhere- the various male morphs are likely optimized to chase different female morphs. Blues can keep up with the quicker, more agile greens, bronzes with the slower, longer flying golds, and browns are a 'jack-of-all-trades' rank that doesn't specialize but instead can successfully chase either female morph, just with lower odds than the specialized males.

As far as size differences go, it's again all on the females to start. Golds lay larger clutches and defend them from things like wherries, they need to be larger to fit more eggs, to better defend their nests, and to drive off rival golds. Bronzes have to be large to keep up with the golds when they Rise. Greens specialize in laying more clutches and so likely smaller clutches, so they don't need to get as big and can instead focus on evading predators and even being able to lure predators from a freshly laid clutch without getting snatched up, small size is useful there. Blues are also small because it allows them the speed and maneuverability to chase greens. Presumably the reason they're larger than greens are is due for some reason to their being male, likely related to the complex genetics likely tied to rank*. Browns are in the middle because it allows them enough speed and maneuverability to go for greens, but also enough stamina to try for golds.

Color, meanwhile, is likely a camouflage thing. Blues, greens, and browns are all natural colors, perfect for making it harder for predators to notice you. According to the DLG firelizards come in a variety of shades, I wouldn't be surprised if there was even a degree of midtones between the various ranks. Golds and bronzes, meanwhile, I think are more likely a matter of reflective camouflage. A gold on a nest may be hard to look at in bright light, or at a glance appear to just be a patch of wet sand. If a gold has to leave the nest, more likely the sire would be left to guard it, and similar camouflage would fill a similar role. It might even, for some bronzes, give the impression that the larger gold is still on the nest, deterring predators that don't want to tangle with one. Since the smaller ranks are far less likely to be on a nest, more matte tones to mack dirt, wood, sky, foliage would be most effective.

It's all just fascinating and not quite like anything we have on Earth, though you can make parallels between several different Earth species. Absolutely love it.

[alpaca-clouds]

Something that will forever amuse me about BG3 is how the game goes: "Monsterfuckers, we gotcha!"

You can fuck a squidman, you can fuck a bear (werebear?), and you can fuck an incubus. Sure, I personally still do not like the last scene because it is so darn rapey, but... It is there. And it is content for the monsterfuckers.

And then there is also the fack that Halsin does confirm in some idle banter with Lae'zel to be himself a monsterfucker.

And... I think I just had a dialogue in the game that confirmed that some githyanki have a thing for fucking their dragons. Because Lae'zel talked to my romanced dragonborn durge and was like: "Don't worry about our dragons, we will reward them with treasure and other things. You have dragonblood as well, I am sure I will find something you'll appreciate too."

And, I mean... What can I say? Like the DnD world generally is just filled with a lot of monsters that will pass the Jack Harkness test in flying colors.

(Note to self: Monsterfucking March writing challenge?)

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ TWST Characters and the Orange Peel Theory ⊰ || Multiple Character Scenario

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮        Character(s): Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts, Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchi, Leona Kingscholar, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Jamil Viper, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoeinheit, Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt, Malleus Draconia (Twisted Wonderland)        Reader Type: Human, Ramshackle Prefect (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Nothing! I also always use the Japanese TWST Terms (Dorm Leader instead of Housewarden, Madols instead of Thaumarks, etc.) in my writing.        Genre: Scenario, Fluff, Attempt at Comedy        Word Count: ~1530 words        Scenario: What do the TWST boys do when you randomly turn to them, holding an orange in your palm as you ask, “Could you peel this for me?”        Author’s Note: I’ve been having a hard time motivating myself to work on requests as of late and, given the state of some of my friendships irl at the moment, I wanted to write about the TWST boys and whether or not they would “pass” the Orange Peel Theory relationship test (probably because I need some comfort right now lmao). For those who don’t know, the Orange Peel Theory is a theory that, if someone loves and cares about you, they will do the smallest of tasks for you with no fuss; this “test” is supposed to show whether or not the care and respect in a relationship are mutual (another one of these “tests” I saw was asking your friend or partner to tie your shoe for you). This was written to be read as platonic, but it can be interpreted as romantic if that’s your jam.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Looks at the orange in your hand before giving you a warm smile in return, taking it from your grasp and peeling the outer rind with no comment. He even offers to feed it to you, holding one of the pieces of fruit between his pointer finger and thumb as he gently brings it to your lips. Will only take a piece for himself if you give him explicit permission to do so; after all, he doesn’t want to ask to have some of your lunch since you looked so excited to eat the orange when you asked him to peel it for you (you were more excited about the fact he agreed to peel the fruit for you rather than the orange itself). Passes the test with flying colors.

Silver

Peels the rind from the flesh of the orange with a small smile while continuing to talk happily about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to your question. He doesn’t ask why you suddenly needed the orange peeled since it doesn’t really matter to him; you asked him for help and he was happy to deliver (he was even touched you were comfortable enough to ask him to do that for you). Passes the test perfectly.

Kalim, Rook

Peels the orange with a level of perfection you didn’t even know was possible. You’re left absolutely astounded when he returns the newly-peeled fruit in your hand with a smile, not a single ounce of pith left on the flesh of the orange slices; it was the best orange you’ve probably ever eaten in your life. He passes the test and you honestly couldn’t ask for a better person to peel an orange.

Ortho

Is a bit curious as to why you asked him to peel the orange for you since he’s seen you do it before, but he doesn’t say anything as he takes the fruit from your hand to peel it. However, he ends up overestimating the amount of strength needed to remove the outer rind from the flesh, so now the both of you are splattered in orange juice and pulp. Your laughter at the ridiculous situation makes what happened a fond memory rather than something to be embarrassed about. While he technically passes the test, you now have no orange to eat (it has been reduced to atoms). It’s the thought that counts, though.

Jack, Malleus

Agrees to peel the orange for you, but he does want a couple pieces of the fruit in exchange for his services; he doesn’t just do things for free you know. He peels the orange for a price, but it’s a reasonable deal at least. You agree to his terms and watch as he happily and easily peels the orange, humming all the while. Once the rind has been removed from the flesh, he takes three slices of the fruit for himself to snack on before giving you the rest. Even though he peeled the orange for you, he technically fails the test since he wanted something in return.

Ruggie, Azul

Plucks the orange from your palm, but asks why you’re not able to peel it yourself. Are you not feeling well or something? He then begins to ask if you’re eating an orange because you need extra vitamin C as he proceeds to ask if you’re coming down with a cold; he definitely overthinks why you asked him to peel your orange for you. So, while he does peel the orange and successfully passes the test, you’re starting to think that maybe he cares about you a little too much with the sudden worry about your well-being.

Deuce, Riddle

Demands to know why you’re asking him to peel your orange for you since he’s seen you do it plenty of times before (keep in mind, he’s asking this while actively peeling your orange for you)! He then proceeds to ask if you’ve been eating properly and taking care of yourself if removing the rind from a piece of fruit was too strenuous on your human body; he even offers you to come and join him while he trains since his vigorous routine would be sure to give you enough strength to peel the orange on your own. He passes the test, but is the lecture something you truly want to have to sit through?

Sebek

Knows and is aware of the theory since he has seen it circling around on social media as of late, but he’s happy to peel the orange for you nevertheless. He even thinks it’s super cute how you asked him out of all your fellow classmates to try this viral test with (he’s actually kind of honored)! He of course passes the test since he already knew about it, but he would have gladly peeled your orange for you even if he didn’t know about it; you’re just that special to him.

Cater

Also knows about the theory from social media, but doesn’t really want to get his hands all sticky and potentially ruin a nail while trying to remove the outer layer of the fruit. Thankfully, he came prepared in case you asked him to do this “test” since he’s not one to disappoint, pulling an orange peeler from his back pocket as he separated the rind from the flesh. However, if push came to shove, Vil wouldn’t be against ruining his nails or getting his hands sticky with orange juice if it meant he could show you how much he cared for you. Passes the test since he doesn’t mind getting a little messy if it means he can express his appreciation toward you through small gestures such as this.

Vil

Takes the orange from your hand to peel it for you, but will be teasing you about it the entire time. Why are you suddenly not able to peel an orange, hmm? Why didn’t you ask another one of your friends? Were you waiting specifically to ask him of all people? My, now aren’t you adorable! He technically passes the test even if he’s kind of mean about it. Keep in mind that he will bring up your strange and sudden inability to peel your orange up in the future to tease you.

Trey, Jade, Lilia

Agrees to peel the orange, but is a little curious why you picked an orange to eat for lunch since you usually preferred having one of the apples he’d bring (he even started bringing an extra one just for you). A little bit upset you didn’t want an apple today, but he peels the orange for you with only a single comment about your lackluster choice of fruit for the day. Passes the test and peels the orange with no problem, but he’s kind of disappointed you didn’t want an apple; he can peel an apple faster than he can peel an orange.

Epel

Straight up says no and that he knows you’re capable of peeling it yourself. Why would he bother getting his hands all sticky just for you to be able to eat some fruit? If you want it, you can go through the mess it takes to get past the outer rind. However, he immediately notices your shoulders sag in disappointment as you bring the fruit to your body before you begin to peel it yourself. He rolls his eyes and lets out a huff before snagging the orange from your grasp, peeling it himself before handing the fruit back to you without a word. Technically fails the test, but at least he peeled it for you after seeing how downtrodden you looked.

Ace, Leona, Jamil

Nods his head and takes the orange from your hand but, alas, he can’t even peel the orange. You both knew he wasn’t exactly the strongest or healthiest individual on campus, but neither of you thought it was this bad. After his pride is wounded and his face is a deep shade of red, you gingerly take the orange from his grasp and peel it yourself, offering him a piece of fruit in the hopes it will cheer him up. Passes the test even if he was unable to garner enough strength to actually peel the orange; he makes you promise not to tell anyone about this.

Idia

His reaction truly depends on how he’s feeling at the moment. If he’s in a bad mood, he’d either tell you no or – if someone had done something that day to really piss him off – crush and/or throw the orange. If he’s feeling a bit playful, he’d pluck it out of your hand and hold it high above your head while you pleaded for him to give you your snack back. However, if he’s in a good mood that day (and if he’s not trying to hide his slight soft spot towards you), he’d gently take it from your hand and peel the orange with ease, handing you back a perfectly peeled fruit for you to eat before asking if he could have a piece. He either fails the test exponentially or passes it with flying colors; it honestly all depends on his mood at the time.

Floyd

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part one

It’s the way that I am BURSTING with excitement about posting this fic 😈🫣

Warnings: nothing here really, just talk of Haley and Jack’s deaths

Don’t forget to follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be notified when a new chapter is posted!!

One: All along we called it normal — “The News” by Paramore

“Please say your name and rank for the record.” The tape clicks. Across from you, Strauss sighs.

“Supervisory Special Agent Y/N L/N,” you reply confidently, “with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.”

“How long have you been with the BAU?” Strauss asks.

“Four years.”

She takes the seat across from you, crossing her legs, and opening a file folder. “Did you work under Agent Hotchner the entire time?”

“Yes ma’am,” you reply, lacing your fingers together on the table. “I did.”

“How would you describe your relationship to Agent Hotchner during this time?”

“Professional,” you say firmly, knowing exactly what she is trying to get you to say. “Strictly professional.”

+++

When Hotch returned to the BAU’s offices, he headed straight into a meeting with Strauss. She didn’t know he was coming, and a meeting wasn’t scheduled, but he knew if he went straight to his office that she’d call for him immediately. He thought he might as well beat her to it.

He stepped off the elevator and turned toward Strauss’s office. She locked eyes with him through the glass walls of her office, her expression frozen in shock.

“What are you doing here?” Strauss asked, right to the point, barely letting Hotch shut the door first.

“I’m here to get back to work,” Hotch replied, just as blunt.

Strauss was unamused. “Did you even think about the retirement offer I showed you?”

“I did. I’m declining it.” It was a nice offer, really, but it made no sense. He’d have more free time than ever before, but he didn’t need free time. He needed to be occupied constantly if he was ever going to make it through this mountain of grief.

“It’s been two weeks,” Strauss stated. “You need a month of bereavement, Aaron. Minimum.”

“You’re getting two weeks,” he said with a defiant shrug.

Sensing a losing battle, Strauss caved, settling on a compromise. “You’ll need to pass a psych eval with flying colors, then.”

“I will.”

“Today,” she said. “You’re going to wait here until they arrive.”

Hotch put up no fight. “Alright.” He turned and took a seat on her couch while she placed a phone call, ordering an immediate evaluation.

It took an hour for the psychologist to arrive, and they appeared to have rushed there. In truth, Strauss made the situation sound much more dire than it was.

Hotch stood and shook the psychologist’s hand, already securing a good impression before the evaluation had begun. Strauss led them down the hall to a conference room for some privacy.

Hotch hadn’t been in many psych evals, but he was well aware of how they work. Passing this one was easy, much to Strauss’ displeasure, and he was cleared for work by the afternoon.

“I will be watching you, Aaron,” Strauss warned.

“Don’t you already?” he quipped, pushing through her office doors.

+++

The team was in a frenzy when Hotch walked through the BAU’s glass doors, wearing his usual suit and tie, briefcase in hand. Like nothing had happened.

“Is that…?”

“Already?”

“Why is he here?”

You lifted your head from your paperwork and stared, jaw dropping ever so slightly as Hotch walked past your desk. Your eyes followed him up the stairs to his office, unlocking the door and flicking the lights on.

“Did you know he was coming back today?” Emily asked from her seat next to you.

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from your boss. “No. Not at all. Hasn’t it only been two weeks?”

“If that,” JJ said.

“Is he even allowed to be here?” Morgan asked.

“Standard bereavement time is three to seven days,” Reid quoted, chewing nervously on his nails. “But it varies based on the relationship to the deceased. He should’ve gotten at least a month, or maybe two, since it was Haley and Jack…”

“He definitely shouldn’t be here,” you murmured to yourself mostly, but Emily voiced her agreement.

“He needs more time,” she said quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. “We know he’s a workaholic, but this is…”

“Way too soon,” you finished, and JJ nodded.

Rossi exited his office next door and walked into Hotch’s, immediately embracing him in a hug. You couldn’t hear what they said, but Hotch cracked a small, barely-there smile. It was more than you expected.

Hotch turned his head and locked eyes with you, and you looked away, embarrassed. You really shouldn’t stare. You just didn’t expect him to be back so soon.

You returned to your work, feeling like a kid caught red-handed. Minutes passed before you started to hear Rossi and Hotch’s voices a lot clearer, as they walked down the stairs into the bullpen.

“Hey,” you heard Emily say, smiling gently.

“Long time no see, boss,” Morgan joked lightly.

You lifted your head again, seeing Hotch say a small, “Hi,” and nod. He looked down at you, offering another nod.

“Hey,” you murmured. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” Hotch said, directing his answer to the entire team. “I’m glad to be back. I need something to keep me busy.”

You nodded solemnly. You figured that was the reason, but it didn’t make it any better. You still felt like he should’ve waited a few more weeks at least.

“Well, we missed you,” Rossi said, filling the silence.

Everyone murmured their words of agreement, even you. You probably missed Hotch more than anyone else, but it wasn’t a competition.

“I have some cases to review,” JJ said, gesturing in the direction of her office. “I was just about to bring them to Rossi, but if you…”

“We can review them together,” Rossi offered, nodding with Hotch.

“Sure,” Hotch said. “Just bring them up to my office.”

“Coffee?” Rossi suggested. “I’m sure the pile is as high as ever.”

Hotch seemed strangely comforted by the fact, and by everyone’s attempt to behave as normal as possible, as everyone would have worked before Haley and Jack’s death.

The two men fell into easy conversation, as old friends tend to do, and headed over to brew a fresh pot of coffee. JJ headed to her office to retrieve the case files. Emily, Reid, and Morgan shared looks with you before sinking, defeated, back into their chairs.

Garcia came through the glass doors, her empty mug in hand, and stopped in her tracks when she saw Hotch standing in the small kitchen.

“Sir,” she said. “What are you doing— I mean— Welcome back!” She hugged him, unable to help herself.

“Thank you, Penelope,” Hotch offered a tiny smile, hugging her back.

Garcia set her mug down on the kitchen counter and came over to share her confusion with the rest of the team.

“I saw his psych eval get posted,” she whispered hastily. “What is going on?”

You shrugged. “He said he’s ready to be back.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Babygirl, we know,” Morgan shushed her. “He won’t listen.”

You snorted, knowing that was the truth. Above anything else, Aaron was stubborn. You didn’t know why you didn’t expect him to pull something like this. In fact, you felt stupid for not seeing it coming. You should’ve known.

You gave him a few weeks, depending on how many cases came through that needed the BAU’s attention, but nothing more. He’d realize he needed a break eventually, and then he’d most likely take a month off.

Or he’d retire. But you didn’t want to think about that.

You wanted him to have his time to grieve and heal, but you didn’t want to lose him entirely. The BAU wouldn’t be the same without him.

You were not alone in that sentiment, either. Garcia asked you a few days earlier if you thought Hotch might take Strauss’s retirement offer. You didn’t know what to tell her, not really. If he did, you’d understand. But you’d miss him even more than you had these past two weeks.

+++

Your relationship with Hotch had always toed the line of being inappropriate, ever since you began at the BAU a few years ago.

After his divorce from Haley was finalized and she seemingly wanted nothing to do with him, you felt less guilty about your lingering looks. The guilt evaporated entirely when Hotch began sharing the looks, and added small touches.

At first, it was nothing to concern yourself with.

He always sat next to you on the jet, so these times were no different — although he began sitting closer. Thighs nearly touching, forearms brushing, always bordering on too much, but never enough to raise any suspicions.

His fingers brushed against yours while he handed you files, your bulletproof vest, or a piece of evidence. He started putting his body in front of yours when gunfire was involved, even though you both had the same level of protection on your bodies.

And when he could, he paired you with him for interviews, interrogations, or general splitting of the team. The two of you never shared a hotel room, but he and Rossi always get their own rooms. You did notice, however, that your room was often next to his.

You were tempted, many times, to knock on his door, but you never did. Foyet’s terror began, and then Hotch’s family was targeted, and his attention was torn away from you.

Not that you blamed or resented him for that, of course. It made perfect sense for Hotch to turn his focus to his ex-wife and his son when a serial killer was after them. Disappointment crept into your body, but you pushed it away. Bigger problems were at hand.

You comforted Hotch as best you could during those times without crossing any lines.

“We’ll get him,” you remember saying one night, among other things that you probably shouldn’t have uttered. But your words worked and he thanked you for talking to him, even though you’re sure Rossi and others said similar things.

We’ll get him, you all had said. We’ll catch Foyet.

And you did, but there was no “we” involved. Aaron knew where Foyet was going and was already headed there by the time the team figured it out. He was on a one-man mission, no matter what anyone says to try and make it seem less so.

With Hotch back in the office, feelings were resurfacing, though you tried quieting them. The circumstances now seemed even more inappropriate than before, so you kept yourself under a close watch.

It didn’t help, though, that Aaron had gone back to his old ways.

When the team boarded the jet for the first case since his return, you took your seat first, expecting him to sit elsewhere, but he took the seat directly to your right, effectively boxing you in. Not to mention, he was closer than he had ever sat, and you didn’t know what to do with that.

So, you behaved as normal.

“Alright,” you exhaled. “Let’s figure out what the hell we’re dealing with here.”

The case was standard, reminiscent of a thousand others you had worked on already. In a way, you were glad that this was the first case Hotch was back on. You thought maybe it would help him to work on something so familiar.

Your hopes were confirmed when the jet landed, and the team headed to the precinct. Hotch was behaving as his usual Unit Chief self.

+++

It didn’t take long for your relationship with Hotch to get back to where it was, and for it to take the step further that you wanted it to way back then.

It only took two cases, three months, for you to be in bed with him.

You didn’t knock on his door like you always wanted to. He knocked on yours.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, your lips just barely touching his cheek. He hovered over you, his arms bent at the elbows and resting on either side of your head. His entire body was pressed into you, the weight comforting.

His heavy breathing filled your ears. “I know.” He rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re drunk,” you said, not upset by the fact, just aware of it.

“I’m not,” he said, shaking his head, but you could smell the alcohol on his lips. You could taste it.

He wasn’t lying. He had one drink, one glass of whiskey, but that was it. He wasn’t drunk. He was buzzed. He’d remember this in the morning. And he wanted to.

“If you’re not,” you murmured, “then what are you doing here, Aaron?”

He lifted his head, his eyes raking over every inch of your face. “What I’ve wanted to for a long time,” he said. “If Foyet hadn’t come back, I would’ve…”

He shook his head, and you shushed him, wanting him to stop this train of thought before it continued. “Don’t. Shhhh, don’t, we don’t have to talk about that right now,” you cradled his face in your hands. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

He nodded. He thought for a moment, regret and shame passing over his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, even though you hated it, even though you really wanted to. But you knew it was the right decision for the night. “You should sleep.” You paused, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You should stay.”

“Can I?” he asked softly, like he knew he shouldn’t. “Just for tonight?”

“Yes,” you murmured. “Stay.”

He did.

[the-s1lly-corner]

yes that's It! can I ask for varIous creepypastas of your choosIng, wIth the reader usIng the orange peel theory on them? If you want to of course.

Slenderman, Splendorman, Hoodie, Laughing Jack w/ the orange peel test

speed writing this before the nosebleed starts- i can feel it and i am locking in- i can now say ive put my sweat tears AND blood into my writing notes: reader is gn, short post cws: none

SLENDERMAN

it takes him a moment to think about what youve asked for him.. you want him to peel the fruit for you? dont you have hands..?

he does do it after a second before you ask again, the question just took him off guard for a moment

surprisingly, he doesnt peel it as neatly as his brother does, but he still gets the job done without making too much of a mess

passes the fruit into your hand, and waits for you to ask for something else if hes still needed

passes, i think, even if he doesnt understand why you need help with it... im sure he'll get it some day!

SPLENDORMAN

more than happy to do it! peels it off with a claw with little effort, even gets it all off in one go- it looks like a cute ribbon! tosses it into the trash so you dont have to

takes it even further and splits it into individual slices and even picks out the weird thready white bits... unless you like those bits, then he leaves them for you!

asks you if you want him to peel another orange for you- or better yet, are you hungry? he can make something for you thats more filling!

passes with flying colors

HOODIE

give him a moment and he will get to you as soon as he can!

peels it off as neatly as he can and discards the peel himself, you dont have to bother yourself with it

that being said... hes still wearing his gloves when hes doing it... he seems to forget to take them off a lot of the time- these are the same gloves that hes running around with and getting messy in

so... eating the orange after hes peeled it for you might not be the best idea, and you fight back the grimace on your face when you realize that his hands are sticky now too, on top of being covered in god knows what

passes because he does it but good god you need to convince him to take his stuff off around the house

LAUGHING JACK

stretches his arm across the room- remember, clown stuff- and yoinks the orange from your hands... look you dont even need to take the time to walk over to him!

has... never peeled an orange before so hes going to be a little messy... not to mention his claws, which make the entire ordeal even harder

resorts to puncturing the fruit and tearing the peel off, leaving the fruit a mangled dripping mess in his palm as he passes it back to you with a smile on his face- not one of malice for tearing up the fruit, but out of genuine pride that he got it done

passes on the technicality that he did it without resistance and gave it his best shot

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 1: Yandere!Hawks

Quirk Use Laws? Pretty much forbid anyone NOT a Hero from Flying. Even if they have wings. Even if they were born with them.

Society isn't fair. Never has been.

It doesn't MATTER if you have wings fully capable of carrying you through the skies. Of that freedom so few could only dare dream off. You didn't offer yourself up on the alter of Heroics or the meat grinder of Villiany. Stay on the fucking ground.

You haven't flown since childhood.

Not even so much as gliding. Have gotten in TROUBLE time and again for daring to fully extend them, just to stretch. Long learned to ignore the screaming, begging, jibbering mess of instincts that just... just BEGS you. Pleads with you. To just for a MOMENT...

No one would ever have to KNOW!

.......yeah. Yeah sounds like a lie to you, too. But you can't blame um. It. That part of you. You weren't built for this.

Literally.

Your wings are fucking massive. You've lost count of the times you've clipped door frames. Wall corners. Furniture. They're not DAINTY. Not pretty little short term flight wings, built for flitting about and bright colors. They are TANKY. Meant to carry you and carry you and CARRY YOU. Hold weights most couldn't lift.

You got a LOT of pressure to be a hero as a kid.

Now you most just get a lot of pressure to HAVE kids. Lots of um. Gotta pass on the quirk! Be a good little broodmare! Since, you know, YOU failed to give us what we wanted. It's messed up.

And it's not happening.

Not in a society like THIS. Honestly, you'd get your tubes tied if you COULD FIND A DOCTOR TO DO IT. But again! Quirk. Broodmare. Pop out winged babies. Like HELL you will. Not when they'll never get to fly. Not when it's a life of forced combat for the state or being chained to the ground.

You? You can bear it. You're strong enough. You've HAD to be. But you're not gonna let them do that to any hypothetical kid of yours. You'd sooner fucking die.

Speaking off? Some fuckers never learn. Another "life was mean n unfair so I'm gonna take that out on everyone weaker then me, instead of aiming for the people actually responsible, cause I'm a COWARD" mother fucker. And LOOK! How original! He has bom-...

Wait, FUCK-!!!

The bastard HAD bombs. You, along with most of the idiot "hero chaser~♡!" Crowd you were trying to get PASSED, got thrown back. At least it didn't hit directly. Those up front would have died. Which? From the sounds of panic? Is finally starting to OCCUR to those idiots.

You DON'T SAY? Really. Getting near open combat? Dangerous? Fucking Shocking!

Still, you pull yourself up off your back (fucking OW, you don't sleep on your back for a REASON). Fling your hand forward to let your talons slam onto the concrete (not like it can get any MORE fucked up, who's gonna notice a few holes?) then lever yourself up and forward.

You let the, admittedly, incredible strength of your jacked upper body, do more the just roll you upright. You GRIP. Push off. Muscles rolling under your intentionally baggy clothes as you move, like the apex predator you both are and pretend not to be.

Cause there's kids. There's ALWAYS fuckin kids at these things. They want to see the Heros(~☆™). Want to BE them. Have no goddamned idea how dangerous what they're doing IS because everyone around them treats as safe, normal.

But it's NOT.

And now those kids are hurt and on the ground.

They are scared, confused, and don't know what to do. The adults around them more concerned with saving themselves then protecting the most vulnerable amongst them. You shove passed. It's EASY.

With your wings? With the muscles that came WITH them? The size you got from either your Quirk or just dear ol dad? You are a TANK. If you say move. They MOVE.

You get to the kids. Raptor eyes and sensitivity to blood, perfect for hunting, picking out prey. Even BETTER for picking out boo-boos. That's right everybody, big bird lady, here with band-aids and the reassuring Adult Voice Of Command In A Scary Situation. We're all okay. Everybody together now.

You assess the damage. Not great, could be worse. At least they aren't preschoolers. You nearly got ARRESTED that time for almost punching a cop. The one with the badly twisted ankle can't stand. You haul him up under an arm. You'd toss him over a shoulder, but he'd be exposed.

Time to- The children scream in terror. Your head snaps around, towards the fight. What the HELL have they been DOING?! How has it gotten-!? One of the Villians attacks is headed directly at you and the kids.

FUCK Vigilante Laws. You're not dying today. Neither are these kids!

Your wings snap out to their full size.

Curving like a deep, earth toned, fortress of feathers around you, as you raise them to shield yourself. You activate Strong Bird. (Your dad had Strong Man, your mom had Pretty Bird. Yeah, they thought they were clever when they had a really REALLY powerful avian Quirked kid. Gee! What to name THAT quirk?)

Your wings, already powerful, become nigh unbreakable in their strength. You can't hold it long. But you don't NEED too. Just to tank a hit... that never comes.

You don't know what's happening and you don't CARE. Amateur hour out there nearly got these kids killed TWICE. So the wings stay up. C'mon fledgling, everybody back up, nice 'n slow. Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart. JUST like ducklings.

Of course, while the kids get EMTs? (As they should) You get the delightful threat chorus of the City's Finest. Serve and Protect, everybody! You'd grin and bear it... but you kinda have fangs. Lil baby ones. But APPARENTLY they count as "threatening a police officer". Quirkist mother fuc-

"Problem, officer?"

Too close! Hand on shoulder! AAAH, FUCK! You jump. Wing slaming out in reflex, trying to dislodge the "suprise attack". You didn't hear his come up behind you! SILENT MOTHER FUC-!!! You whip around to the sound of snickering.

Delighted eyes more suited to a corvid then the raptor they're attached too, mock back at you. The Avian/Winged Quirks of Japan Golden Boy. Mr. Model himself. Fuckin Hawks, in all his fuckboi glory.

".....I'm not apologizing. You snuck up on me." You growl, FULLY ignoring the offended noise the officer next to makes.

You... do NOT like the corvid grin, Hawks is giving you. He seems fully aware of it.

The longer you both lock eyes... the more your feathers puff up. Shoulders slowly rising to damn near your ears. S...Stop That! I'm BIGGER THEN YOU! I could take you! You... you WANNA GO, you flighty lil shit!?

He reachs forward. Telegraphing his moves. And...?

Tugs at a flight feather.

YOU PUNCH HIM.

The Judge is very understanding. Your lawyer, paid for by Hawks, somehow gets you community service at his agency. (You wish you punched him harder. But those are INSIDE thoughts.) It? Wouldn't be so bad... if he wasn't such a little corvid CREEP.

Always trying to startle you. Endless wing tugging. Staring contests. Stealing your lunch. Stealing BACK your lunch once you've stolen it from HIM. Moving your SHIT. It's like he's TRYING to set off Every Single Instinct You HAVE.

You're gonna kill him.

This is your Supervillian origin story. Mr. "Ooooh~ isn't it a SHAME you can't fly? I can fly!" LORDING his FUCKING LICENSE over you like a [censored in untranslatable Raptor swearing]!!!

If you find! ONE MORE! Of his FUCKING FEATHERS!!! In your shit?! You are gonna running tackling him out the nearest WALL. And frankly? You don't CARE what magazine he's in now! Stop SHOWING YOU! Stop filling your desk! Stop SITTING on your desk! Yeah, yeah, world's greatest hunter. You caught a purse thief today. Woooo. Good for you.

We're it not for the many, MANY witnesses? These Talons would...

"Love to see ya TRY~" the asshole croons, leaning forward, into your space. "You're fast. But I'm FASTER! But hey, maybe ya manage it! Go ahead. Big strong grip, you might even catch me~ DO you WANT to catch me, my lil hunter?"

Condescending FUCKER. What, because he's a hero, you're no threat AT ALL?

You slam your hands down on your desk, either side of him, to pull yourself to your feet. To TOWER above him like a wrathful avian god. You're so furious... you don't notice the way his eyes dilate. The shudder that goes through him.

The way his calculating golden eyes follow you as you storm away, a titan of feathers and wrath, from behind his ever fixed PR mask.

He steals another pen.

He knows it's going to aggravate you. As is the doodling on you paperwork. The swiping of several random pages. The moving your paperweight. Wing tugging. Pay attention to me. Mischief and danger. It's just a passing whim, he tells himself. He'll get bored, he lies. We have nothing in common!

(Cages come in so many shapes. Is your's as unbearable as mine?)

[infinity-mars]

Play With Me

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!reader 

Word Count: 8.5k+

Rating: Explicit Smut (18+ only) 

Summary: You go out for a night of fun and encounter an alluring cowboy that does everything he can to capture your attention.

Also posted on my AO3 !

You loved to dance. Those moments when your heart fluttered in your chest made you move like you could fly, relishing in the feeling of power it gave you. You weren’t particularly graceful or always on time, but there was a certain magnetic thrum in the air that bent you to its will all the same. 

From outdoor dance clubs to private velvet-roped lounges, discothèques, raves and rooftop bars, you’ve tried to see it all with your friend Kate by your side. 

The cool air nipped at you both as you finally walked inside the club, the heat of passing bodies a welcome feeling. The lit room had a hushed glow as people made their home for the night in plush seats off against the far walls. 

You imagined that the venue was similar to what Alice saw when she went down the rabbit hole and found herself in Wonderland. The bar certainly had the right name, you thought, the people walking around just as colorful as the children’s story. 

The bartender was quick and you were thankful, even though the drink he made was weaker than you preferred. Vodka burned as it hit the back of your throat, aided by the scoff that found you at the man chatting up your friend. 

Kate always had a thing for slightly pathetic men, like she could eat them alive. You were used to her routine by now, her colorful storytelling one of your favorite things to listen to over your morning coffee.

Honestly, you were both horrible together: you pitied the unsuspecting bystanders that listened in. Laughing at an old story she loved to tell at your expense, you didn’t see him at first. 

You wish you could go back to the moment he came crashing into your orbit, not noticing the person on your left until he made himself known. 

“Now what is a pretty bee like you lookin’ so bored all the way over here?” a gravelly voice spoke, the man’s lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes looked over before your brain could catch up, and what you saw certainly sidetracked whatever thoughts had possessed you before. Wearing a black leather jacket that swam in the neon light of the bar, he almost seemed to glow in a classic white shirt that tapered on his slim waist.

“I’m enjoying myself just fine thank you,” you retorted, taking a generous swig of your watered down drink to hide the rush of nervous energy that possessed you. You were used to beginning the chase, and it caught you off guard to be taken by surprise. 

How refreshing.

 A small grin flickered across his face at your answer. His dark hair and broad shoulders only made him more mysterious, the lolling drawl of his voice making you curious despite yourself. 

Men would approach you with the fashionable audacity they all liked to carry around with careless hands hoping for a quick fuck. Sometimes you’d indulge yourself, but the enjoyable heat of another person wasn’t worth it if they never shut their mouths. 

Your vibrator and weighted blanket made sure of that.

You were undecided if this man fit into that category though.

“That’s not what I see.”

“Hmm, what do you see then, if you know me so well?”

The man shifted his foot and leaned in closer, the subtle spice of his cologne clinging to his suede collar. The way he wore it was effortless, and you wanted to grab onto his jacket to either bring him closer or shove him back, depending on what he said next.

“I see a woman that’s bored out of her mind trying to convince herself she’s not, drinking alcohol not worth the proof on the bottle,” he explained, voice dipping lower as you turned to fully face him, finally meeting eyes that never strayed from you.”You want more than whatever junior over there could ever offer someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Oh honey, I know I walked into that one with both feet. You’re just fishing for compliments now, aren’t ya?”

“Mmm, are you going to tell me what I wanna hear or are you going to buy me a drink?”

“The shit they mix here ain’t what you deserve, I saw that bartender mixing those drinks. Take a sip of this darlin’, and tell me I’m not wrong,” the man tempted, readily extending a sleek silver flask to you that was attached to his belt buckle. How scandalous .

The promise in his expression emboldened you. He had taken a drink from the flask himself before offering it to you in invitation.

“What’s life without a little risk?” His eyes seemed to ask.

You took the chance, the warmth from his hands lingering on your fingers as you took the flask from him.The delicate gold choker on your neck glinted in the light as you swallowed.

Taking a swig, you absorb the flavor. He knew his alcohol, and from the confidence of his statement nothing less than top shelf mattered. You could certainly respect that, wondering if his lips would have the same taste if he kissed you.

“You’re not wrong, it’s very good. I’ve always been partial to whiskey myself.”

“Just good? What you have in your hand is a rare share of Statesman Whiskey, made straight from the source in Kentucky,” he retorted, almost offended if not for the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Something you had said passed a test you weren’t yet aware of.“Even as a Yankee you must understand the quality of that. I knew you would.”

“You caught that, did you?” 

“I don’t miss a thing, and you have most certainly caught my undivided attention.” 

You shifted completely to turn your back on your friend and her man of the hour, uninterested in the conversation that no longer included you. 

This man was right about one thing: you had been bored, and hopefully he would measure up for the evening. He didn’t shrink at your gaze.

It was nice to be approached for once with an interest that could mirror your own. 

“I don’t know how you fit that ego of yours inside this place. This doesn’t exactly look like your scene if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles at that without taking offense and coyly tips the brim of his hat in your direction, smiling with a flash of tongue at your choked laugh that's just for him. 

“Let’s just say I’ve gotten a lot of practice over the years. Even more talking to gorgeous girls like you. A buddy of mine wanted me to check out this new place to meet up sometime for work .”

The queer way he said that wasn’t lost on you, but you figured it was just an inside joke of some kind. 

“You know that a honey bee can sting when it's threatened right?” 

The way he widened his stance in victory as you focused on him was intentional, the insufferable action the kind of cockiness you usually wanted to smother with your own if not for the way it oddly suited him. 

“Oh, that doesn’t deter me one bit. I’m sure your sting is just as sweet. I happen to like that.”

The grin peeking out from beneath his mustache looks genuine. You’re intrigued, looking at him now in consideration. As you checked him out from head to toe, one thing stood out rather prominently. 

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just really happy to see me right now?” 

New York might be a concealed carry state but he looked like one of the only men on the premises actually packing heat in all of the ways that matter. The well fitted dark blue denim hugging his thighs left very little to the imagination. 

He was tailored to torture you inch-by-fucking-inch.

“Why don’t you come dance with me for the next song and find out?”

Oh you definitely wanted to shut him up. Preferably with something else to keep that mouth of his busy. 

“No.”

“No? Give me one reason why not and I’ll leave you alone. You can take someone else home tonight and leave ol’ Jack behind.”

“So that’s your name then? Jack,” you reply. His eyes droop at the sound, half lidded and unhurried in the way he examines the way you say his name. 

You finally introduce yourself, like you hadn’t been bantering with the man for a while now. 

Like you hadn’t been imagining what he would look like after spending a night with you, scratch marks down his back a parting gift that'll make him think of you every time he moves.

“If you are so obliged, it’ll be the name you’ll be screaming later and that’s a promise,” he vowed, chewing on a mint he popped in with a cheeky wink thrown in your direction. On any other man that would be a turn-off, but you looked down and saw the way his hands clenched around nothing as you observed him. 

Jack was his own harbinger of surprises it seems. 

The second of silence that follows sears under your skin, charged and frantic for more friction. A quick reply caught on your tongue that you held in, keeping it for later: never let it be said that you didn't like flirting with delayed gratification every once in a while.

“How do you know that I don’t have someone already waiting in my bed for me?” You asked. Jack’s eyes were arresting, lingering lower on your chest for a few moments before looking into your own to answer you.

 He gave a satisfied hum when he found whatever he was searching for.

“I think the way you’re staring at me is all the answer I need.”

You’ll give him credit, he was saying all of the right things. Or at this point, you wanted them to be, your attraction only tipping in his favor.

“Now what is a Southern boy like you doing here? Not to be a cliche, but you’re a long way from home.”

“Oh, I’m just like anyone else. I work at the Statesman New York office, traveling a lot when I’m needed elsewhere. What do you do when you’re not talking to vagrants like me in strange bars?”

“I’m a romance novelist, dabbling in a lot of things really, you know how it is.”

“Hmm, now that sounds interesting. What words must form on that clever tongue of yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you flirted back. 

He began speaking again, the story he launched into exotic and altogether hard to believe, but it wasn’t the words that reeled you in. It was his large hands waving temptingly close that distracted you. You could care less about the time he almost died in Marrakesh after offending someone’s wife.

You’d commit the story to your memory later when the pleasant haze of him faded away.

His tale came to a close as you glanced down and laughed at the stereotype that for some reason didn’t surprise you.

“Can you even dance in those boots for anything other than a two step?”

“I can do a lot more than that.”

“With your shiny belt buckle and Stetson I’d almost think you’re compensating for something,” you teased. A flash of delight lit up his face at your observation, the smirk he sent your way something just north of sinful.

“Everything is bigger in the south darlin' and besides,” he trailed off, hands coming to slowly cage you in against the bar but not quite touching you. “Let’s be honest here, we both know you like what I’ve got underneath.”

You lean forward, a breath of air suspended between you as your mouth almost ghosts over his. Maneuvering out of Jack’s reach, you reach up and take the hat off his head.

You had no doubt he would have stopped you if he had actually wanted to, those large hands of his able to easily overpower and hold you down. 

You suppress a grin at the thought.

Putting the large hat on your head, you brushed out your unruly hair to make it stay firmly in place. His eyes unfocused for a moment before looking at you with renewed intensity, his jaw ticking to the side as he takes you all in. 

You loved the chase, but at that moment you were tempted to end the flirtation and leave the bar to see if those fingers would fill you up as well as they promised. 

“Come on, show me your moves," you dared, steeling yourself as you joined the growing crowd beginning to take over the dance floor. He convinced you. "Do your worst, Jack.”

A remix of one of your favorite songs set the pace as it moved through you. The bass was rich and dark in your veins as you danced, Wonderland falling away in the fury of bodies all around you. The charge that flitted low in your abdomen was one that threatened to crack you in two as Jack brought you back, your ass grinding into him after each beat.

It would be so easy to turn around and let yourself melt into the heat of him.

 But riling him up sounded like a lot more fun. So when the beat shifted so did you, one hand removing the hat from your head as the other reached behind you to bring him down to your level. 

“You know, there’s a saying I heard before that if you steal a cowboy’s hat you’re either fuckin’ or fighting, and darlin’ I don’t have any weapons on me right now. So what’ll it be?” He asked, his voice against your ear making you lean into his palms. 

You felt like smoke, weaving around him as you continued to dance.

“Mmmm, doesn’t a combination of both sound just as good?”

The reactive tightening of his fingers on your hips was just what you needed. The both of you were lost, the music loud enough to cover up how hard your heart was beating.

Jack runs his nose along your neck and jaw until he nips at the vein, the heat of his breath making your own decision for you.

Turning, you reach up and finally kiss him. It wasn’t a quick affair, the push and pull between you both a fight to see who would give in first. You wanted to memorize the feeling, imagining the burn of his facial hair on your thighs as you rode his face. 

You’d even wear his hat while you did it if he asked nicely. 

He tasted like mint and mussed hair dangled in front of his eyes, lightly brushing your forehead as you mingled together. 

You were both insulated in the crowd, kissing each other until you were hardly even dancing anymore. 

Ready to leave the liquor and low lighting behind, you stopped Jack in his tracks. Backing him into the wall of the hallway you ventured into, you did so firmly, hands holding him hostage as you clung to the lapels of his leather jacket. 

The hunger he saw reflected in your eyes pinned him in place, and that alone made him want to ruin you. 

Leaning up in your high heeled boots so that you could kiss his cheek, the remaining lipstick you wore smeared onto his skin like a brand, the red lip print left near his opened mouth telling him that you were dangerous.

Better yet, his favorite kind.

“Follow me cowboy,” you rasped, leaving goosebumps in your wake as you lightly skimmed over his skin with your teeth. The fever consuming from now was one he hadn’t felt bubbling in his blood ever since his last mission months ago.

 He craved it.

Jack vaguely connected that you were an unstoppable force to his immovable object, ready to crash into him like the paradox you were presenting yourself to be. 

When he had clocked you from across the bar earlier he had admitted to himself that you weren’t the usual type of woman he jumped to charm into his bed. You had looked wholly unimpressed with your surroundings before, swirling the ice in your drink as the yuppie next to you preened like a toddler with a captive audience. 

The oncoming storm he’d read in the lines of your body told him another story, however, one that swept him into you and past the redhead that had been trying to catch his attention since he’d walked in. 

The shadow of something wicked had made Jack eager to align your passions with his own.

Impatient at his composure as he thought of this, you hooked two fingers into his belt loops and tugged him off the wall and into you, that jolt he felt from before electrifying below his skin as you pressed against him. 

Reaching down and lightly cupping one of your hands over the denim of his jeans, you felt him squirm the longer you dared. 

 His dark brows furrowed at your forwardness, wanting to taste you again.

Your hands were firm on him, brokering no argument for the sly agent to persuade you with. He admired your drive, easily taking the momentum from him and twisting it to your desires. You kept surprising him, and by the way you delved into his mouth you weren’t afraid of showing him this side of you.

You wanted him to say something, anything, so this time you squeezed with intent, the hiss in your ear headier than the alcohol on his breath.

His cock twitched under your hand, and god it was power . 

You enjoyed him like this: slightly wild but contained, a groan threatening to break through clenched teeth as you felt him up in public so casually. 

You kiss him possessively in that dark room, drinking him up and daring him to consume you in turn like he promised. He might have approached you first, but you were going to finish what you both started.

It was desperate and messy and loud but neither of you cared.

A couple walked close to the both of you, forcing you to break from him in the narrow hallway to let them pass. Your absence made Jack swiftly reconnect himself with your body, his large hand sliding down into the pocket of your jeans to roughly squeeze your ass that had been grinding on him only moments before. 

Leaving his hand where it was, he used it to direct you outside into the street. The nighttime air filled your lungs with relief, cooling the sweat that dampened your neck.

“You're positive you don’t wanna go back to my place? I can assure you the view from my floor is nothing to scoff at.”

“While that might ordinarily be tempting, Jack, your apartment doesn’t have any of the toys that I like to use,” you retorted. 

You could already imagine flashes of the night ahead of you at your apartment. 

“A pity then, I just know that you pressed against my floor to ceiling windows when the sun rises would be a pretty sight indeed.”

“Let’s enjoy tonight and plan on that for next time.”

Shame was not an emotion that Jack entertained often and he wasn’t about to start now, leaving your lipstick where it sat proudly on his face. A few people stared at him in the street, but no one stopped your brisk pace. 

At the last crosswalk he pinched your ass in retaliation when you turned to kiss him harshly, nipping his chin as you leaned back onto your heels. As if you were dry kindling struck by lightning, his hands trailed flames in their wake, each touch only hastening your steps forward.  

Exposed brick, industrial lighting, and high ceilings were what attracted you to your building when you first moved to the area. Your small loft on the upper floor gave you the privacy you craved, the cityscape around you comforting in the way it always kept moving. 

While waiting for the elevator Jack untangled himself from you to lean against the wall on your right. He stood there appreciating you as a few of your neighbors walked around the lobby, Jack tipping his hat to them as they passed.

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it at some point to kiss him earlier.

“Prettier than a peach,” he murmured, his hand reaching to smooth over his mustache in thought. He was earnest, the mood shifting into something unnamed as the elevator dinged. You huddled into him as people came and went.

"You know," you began, "I'd look even prettier with your hands wrapped around my throat."

 He coughed into his hand, not wanting everyone else in the lobby to see how tight his jeans suddenly felt. You laughed.

You both stumble into your apartment, the size of Jack overwhelming as he backs you into the closed door. His mouth was persuasive, like a switch was flipped now that you were both away from everyone else. 

He left bruising kisses on your neck, completely unyielding in his quest to mark you wherever he could reach. His hands were on the back of your head, holding you in place as he gripped your neck just so. 

For a long suspended moment you were frozen, wanting to regain the ground you refused to lose. But hell, could this man kiss the thoughts from your head. 

Then, all at once, heat spreads through you, thawing you into action. 

Holding onto his jacket with your fingers you tilt your head back with a breathless chuckle, making Jack look into your eyes. You take up one hand and grip his chin, the other drifting to caress the lipstick mark you shamelessly left on his cheek. Pressing down on it with more pressure to show you meant your next words, you wanted him to listen. 

He smirked into your touch, a cocky sort of grin showcasing his dimple that felt entirely warranted as your breath stuttered in your chest. 

“Go sit on the couch,” you ordered. Kissing you once more before moving away, a filthy moan left you as his tongue darted out for a taste. His eyes didn’t look away until you turned your back, shedding clothes in your wake until all you had left on was the lace you were wearing.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sure thing baby, pour me a bit of whatever you’re having.”

You didn’t leave him for long, reappearing with strong liquor and the type of lingerie that made you feel like you could eat a man’s heart in the marketplace like Beatrice once said.

The warmth from the drink you’d sipped in the kitchen enveloped you as it licked up your chest— you were in your element now.

Grounded in your body, you took a deep breath. 

Emerald lace and satin embrace you, assured in the sway of your hips as you walked over to your cowboy. Handing him his drink and swiftly straddling his parted thighs, you let him take you in.

 You don’t know when he became “your cowboy,” but it sounded right, for the night at least.

Say what you will, but Jack was flexible with a change in plan. He just had to bide his time, finishing the finger of bourbon left in his glass before setting it aside.

The way you spilled out of your lingerie had him drowning in you. Champ once told him that he was an adrenaline addict, chasing every mission that got his heart racing. He wasn’t wrong—you couldn’t function as a successful Statesman agent without a dash of daredevil in you.

And he just loved the way you moved.

His mouth descends on you again, leaving you once to gulp in a desperate breath before attacking with renewed vigor. 

He hoarsely spoke your name, and it was the best thing that had left his lips all night. You wanted him to say it again but this time underneath you, unbidden and desperate at the way you pulled it out of him. You slid your tongue into his mouth and brought up a hand to roughly yank at the hair on the sides of his head, until he bowed his back and leaned into you for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You asked, snaking your hand underneath the cup of your brassiere to shove it aside and caress your breast, a groan breaking through your composure at the way Jack bucked into you. Though his breathing was measured and even, his lips parted at the sight of your nipples pebbling in the cool air. 

“You know, when I saw you at the bar I knew I had to talk to you, take you with me when I left,” he murmured, quiet in his admission as it rang true on his face. 

“Mmmm, honey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but...you’re in my apartment at the moment, on my couch no less, drinking my bourbon,” you answer just as quietly into his ear. You graze over it teasingly with your teeth just to see him shiver. “And I’m wearing a matching set right now. So who really took initiative tonight, hm?”

Jack laughed almost in disbelief at your words, his body responding for him. It’s an honest sound, one that makes you kiss him deep enough to taste his tongue in the back of your throat.

Ultimately what you saw in his eyes was patience. And that was hotter than anything else he could have done. 

 You sigh his name, letting your head fall forward as he seeks out another kiss from you. 

“This is just the preview. I want it all, and I know you do too,” he breathed against your lips. “Now are you going to let me touch you, or do I have to watch you fuck yourself on my thigh before I can taste you? You can only tempt a man so far.”

“Is that a threat or a challenge I hear?”

“I did promise that you’d be screaming my name, and I take that job very seriously. You'll hear no arguments from me.”

“You sure you can handle me like that, cowboy?”

Jack was wavering somewhere between wholly aroused and perversely indignant. No one questioned him like this, in the bedroom or otherwise if he could help it.

 He hated how it turned him on like this. 

You’re not sure what emboldens you to tease him; your resolve only heightens the longer he looks at you, as if you could spill over into him and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

“I have never been more sure than I am right now.”

He knew how to fire you up. In many ways, you were both quite similar.

Restless and insatiable. 

Purposefully running your hands down his chest only to stop your exploration at his belt, the rumble in his chest was one of approval as you scratched at his abdomen through his shirt. 

You enjoyed yourself when pleasure could mix with a bit of pain, and you had an inkling that Jack did too. You wanted to deny him, reduce this enigma of a man into a begging mess before the sun came up. But your own need to be touched by him won out, and damn him for kissing you like that—as if you were the antidote to a fatal poison he had drunk in an effort to forget you. 

“You can touch me, Jack, but there’s something I want to do first.”

You meet his gaze for a brief moment as you pause in this position on top of him, being perfectly still when all you wanted was to hold him close until there was no space for questions or distractions.

An understanding passes between you both. Your body buzzes with nerves, synapses firing as all thoughts focus on the man holding you.

He grabs at your hips, whispering encouragement in your ear as he guides you to settle flush against his lap with your legs on either side of him. The zipper of his jeans and his belt buckle rubbed into your clit hard enough to make you shiver.

“ Fuck… ”  

Jack  scrapes his teeth over your jaw. Barely there. More of a breath across your cheek than anything. 

You reach back and unlatch your bra, throwing it away as he cups each breast in his calloused hands. Arching into his attentive mouth as it reached your skin, you threaded your fingers in his hair, messing up the hat flattened strands and tugging on them harder when he bit down teasingly. 

Letting your nipple go with a wet plop, he leaned back into your hands on his head.

“God, I am so fucking hard thinking about licking into that pretty pussy of yours, bet you taste real good,” Jack groaned. You answered in kind, kissing him again to swallow his words.

This was just the warm-up.

“I’m going to cum just like this against you, but if you move any more then I won’t be quite so kind later. Wanna make you earn it. I’m a generous lover, Jack, but a fair one,” you simpered, grinding almost cruelly against the hardness of him that you could feel throbbing through his pants. “You want me to be nice, don’t you?”

“Oh darlin’, I’m sure you’re sweeter than a saint,” he grunted, words stuttering as you brought his head up closer to yours, lips touching but not quite. Rotating your hips, you sigh into his mouth as you move against him. 

True to his restraint so far, he kept himself in place, his breath hot against your cheeks as your pace quickened. 

“Mmmm, can’t wait to have you inside me,” you sighed, his muscles straining beneath your fingers. Shuddering at the feeling of him under you, your first orgasm was creeping closer as it began trickling down from the tips of your fingertips. “D-don’t want you to cum until I’m done with you.”

Jack’s mouth opened partly in awe as you grinded on him with even more force. 

He had a hidden strength to him, and by the way his arms flexed around you he could have easily moved you under him at any time. The fact that he didn't demand it was arousing.

Fuck you were wet.

Tilting his head slightly, he enjoys the view of you on his lap using him for your own pleasure. Your tits bounce as you move, and he’s torn between telling you how perfect they are and moving just slightly to bury his face in your softness. He whimpered silently as you pulsed around him, able to feel it over his clothes as you threatened to unravel.

“Oh, look at you,” he exclaimed, voice a low rumble that stokes the fire in your belly. “Just like that, baby. Fuck, come on. Take what you need from me.”

He says your name once, fervent and taut, barely able to keep himself in check. The fact that he was still almost fully clothed made him need more . You were all warm skin and curves and he wanted to feel every second of you wrapped around him.

He tensed his thigh and shifted slightly but you didn’t notice as you rode out the waves of pleasure rolling over your clit.

It was exquisite and hurried and not the end goal but you didn’t mind. You had wanted to see if he would listen to you. If he could take what direction you gave him. It was an entirely different high you’d surprisingly discovered in your twenties, having a man in your control, making him beg with just your body. 

And yet, Jack did not beg for himself. The look in his eyes was expressive enough. Still he didn’t move, and that was what finally pushed you over. 

Gasping in shock, your orgasm softly washed over your skin. He eagerly watched, memorizing the way your mouth hung open at the feeling of him grabbing your hips with bruising force to drag you over him once again.

When you finally opened your eyes Jack was already looking at you, and you did not shy away. His hair was tousled from your hands, lips swollen, eyes bright—you savored him like the Kentucky whiskey on his breath. 

“Mmmm, you were so good for me,” you praised, voice heavy in your mouth as you recalled how to speak.

As you came back down he chased your lips, taking his time to touch you the way he could now that you’d fallen into his chest. His mouth was a wanting, wretched thing, tracing a path from your lips to your chest. 

You pulled back for a moment. “Do you want to switch to the–”

“I’m not done yet,” he interrupted, bringing you back into a heated kiss that had you whining into his hold on you. He slips his tongue in your mouth and seems to slow time licking into you just so, making you shiver. 

His hands were frenzied in the way they glided over all the flesh he could reach. 

You would torture him no longer.

His blunt nails traced over your spine, and you wanted to ask him to do that again. 

“Now you are a rare gift, my dear,” he hummed into your mouth. “I would hate for you to be tired already.”

“Oh, you don’t have to question my stamina,” you slyly answered. Even now you are still hazy in your bones, tethering yourself to his firm grip on your ass. “Worry about your own.”

The chuckle that leaves him is telling, and you clearly feel his frustration rolling off him now that you can think in complete sentences.

You kiss the corner of his mouth and swiftly hop off of his lap, trembling for a moment as you right yourself. There’s a slight damp spot from where you were sitting on his white shirt that had been hanging over half untucked from his jeans, but you’re too drunk on endorphins to feel embarrassed. 

You did that .

Your heart stuttered for a moment at the raw ache you saw in his face. Hooking your fingers in the slim waistband of your panties, you then cast them aside. 

It felt like an afterthought after what you had both just done, but the way Jack looked at you was anything but unappreciative. 

What you inspire in him is so erotically charged that he is momentarily struck dumb by what you do next.

Falling onto your knees you look up at him through your lashes, taking the flask attached to his belt buckle, the surface slightly wet from your release making it slick in your hands. It was silent in the apartment, the only sound Jack’s breathing as he watched you drink from the flask that he favored so much. 

You could taste yourself around the metal and lipstick and whiskey. A theme of the night it seemed.

Awareness flows down your spine at Jack’s gaze. As you take one more pull, his hands reach up to card through your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail, reaching for you with a finality that has you arching into him.  

You lead him into your room, wishing you had cleaned up a bit before tripping on the rug, laughing as you both stumble into your metal bed frame. 

“Now Jack,” you begin, bracing yourself for the next conversation you rarely walked into without some gut feeling bracing you up. “Do you have a safe word?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did he was entirely focused on you. 

“I do, pretty girl. It’s sweet tea.”

The way his mouth caressed each syllable with that slow southern drawl shouldn’t have been as damning as it was.

“How do you feel about ropes?”

The way he lit up was thrilling. He looked away with unfocused eyes, enjoying a private joke that only he knew. It was the expression of a man that delighted in his own mystery. 

You couldn’t deny that a part of you was burning to know what he locked away. He prowled with that hidden energy, and knowing what you’d experienced of him so far, you would have to work for a proper taste.

“I happen to be quite gifted with whips and a lasso if I do say so myself. I’m rather versatile in that regard. Rest assured it is not my first rodeo.” 

“In that case cowboy, I want you...to tie me up,” you said before grazing your thumb across his bottom lip. He nodded slightly surprised, with the way you had directed him earlier he had thought you’d wanted to tie him up instead.

 It wasn’t like he couldn’t escape from some ropes if he really needed to.

He had been amazing under you before, but you wanted more. You wanted him to take your body and make your need dissolve on your tongue as you cry. You wanted it to hurt.

Jack felt like you could read his mind, look into the very heart of him and learn all of his desires. Palming himself over his jeans, he imagined the warmth of your mouth and had to stop from outpacing himself.

You walked into your closet with purpose, toeing on your favorite pair of stiletto heels as you grabbed your selection of ropes from where they’re hidden.

His eyebrow ticks up at the sight of you naked with only your Louboutins on, the black ropes in your hands are just as daring. He waits for you to settle onto the pillows of your bed before methodically tying your hands to hooks in the wall on either side of your headboard.

 It took him a few moments but his knots were sound, loose enough but tight on your wrists so you couldn’t break free. You were grudgingly impressed with how fast Jack could work when he was motivated, filing it away where you could exploit later.

He throbs at the salacious painting you rendered, spread out and glowing in the warm lighting of the room. With your opened legs you were vulnerable and slick and soft. 

Jack didn’t want to wait any longer before losing himself in you.

He shifted down to lay himself between your parted legs. You swiftly stopped him with your left leg extended fully out, the stiletto of your heel digging into his lowered shoulder as he kneeled on the bed. The startled look on his face made you tease him, grinding it in a little further before moving it down his chest to stop at the length of his cock straining for freedom. 

Pressing down.

The choked groan that he involuntarily let out was painfully erotic. You wish you could record it and hit rewind.

“Hold your horses, Jack. You have far too many clothes on. Strip for me first before you get what you want.”

To his credit he didn’t jump up and frantically discard the remainder of his clothing. Like you before his expression turned calculating, methodically shifting off the bed and taking off his shirt and discarding his pants along with his underwear. All are then folded on your nightstand, neat and pricise to minimize wrinkles.  

You swallow at the way he ignores your anticipation, but it brings no relief. 

His skin is tan like the rest of him, belly soft and strong before a small trail of dark hair leads down to the base of his cock sitting heavy against his stomach. 

You imagine tracing your tongue over every inch of him seeing where he’d fracture and break in your hold, only to put him back together again when he asked.

He was incredibly distracting like that when he wanted to be.

Captivated, your eyes stop back at his chest, small faded scars criss-crossing his skin, one worryingly close to his heart that had you straining for a closer look. His muscles ripple as he moves, the veins of his arms as formidable as the rest of him. 

Jack was focused as he finally settled low on the bed, fingers ghosting over skin as he hitched your legs over his shoulders. Kissing and nipping at the inside of your thigh, he took in a deep breath and let out a little hum, puffs of air hitting your pussy as he adjusted.

He leaned his head on your left thigh and looked up at you briefly.

“You remember the safe word, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded, almost drunk at the heat of him crowding you. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes Jack, I remember it’s sweet tea. Now are you going to eat my pussy like you mean it or do I need to get myself off again?” You answered, tapping your leg down on his back knowing fully well how it would rile him up.

He grins at you savagely, leaning down the remaining space to lick a long stripe all the way up your folds. 

You buck into his mouth, your already sensitive clit coming alive again. He moves his arms to cage your hips in his hold, bringing you flush to his tongue by grabbing onto your ass. 

He was nestled between your legs, mapping your body with licks and handprints. Your half-formed praises and keening whine made Jack a mess of a man, grinding into the mattress as he drank up everything you could give him.

He loved your voice and the way it scattered into nothing when he sucked your clit into his mouth. He made no pretense at staying quiet, noisy and whole in his destruction of you.

Coming up for air, his mustache glistened, cheeks red from his own harsh breathing against your cunt. His lips were wet and you wanted to taste yourself when he kissed you. He reaches down for a moment and pumps himself harshly, tightly fisted and the sound he lets out...you feel it like a pulse.

His nose brushes you as he dives back in. If he could sink underneath your skin you would burst. 

He slides two fingers inside, your muscles clenching around him as far as he could go. Curling his fingers upward and holding them there, a hot fusion of unnamed pleasure and painful awareness zips through you. You can't help but squirm underneath him.

There it was.

Jack wanted you to call his name until he no longer connected it with himself, an uncontained force that compelled him to do whatever you wanted if only you'd say his name like that again. 

Wanting. 

“Fuck, when you say my name like that I just burn all over,” he murmured. “You gonna cum now, baby?”

You hum distractedly, the coiled tether in your abdomen snapping when he doubles down just right. He eagerly laps at you as your pussy flutters, climbing higher and higher until plunging you into nameless bliss. Each limb feels liquid as you touch down.

Jack keeps sucking and licking you without stopping and you can’t cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that slip through. He adds a third finger and continues to move through each aftershock that bounces through your body.

“Come on. Lord—when you sound like that I don’t want you to stop. You’re not done yet, I know you can give me another one. Look at the way you take me in.”

You wanted to dodge his mouth as he sucked on you again, even the gentle way he prodded at you felt like too much. You weren’t going to beg yet, even for a man like Jack. Despite your discomfort you felt yourself stir again, weaker but no less corporeal, as he pressed down hard on your clit with a pressure that made your breathing pick up.

With effort you rocked into him once more and strained to lock your legs around his head, squeezing when he nipped at you. A handful of minutes later you were boneless and spent, legs trembling as he drew your pleasure out.

 He moaned at the feeling of being utterly surrounded, desperately sending you over again so that he could breathe. 

You couldn't think past the wall of sensation you were being held against without mercy.

This orgasm was harder than the last, a juggernaut that only built on the first. A few silent tears trailed down your face, so overcome that his facial hair burned similar to the hand shaped bruise already forming on your hip. 

You close your eyes so tightly that sunbursts bloom behind your eyes as you breathe through it.

Standing up to catch his breath, he used some of the slick on his fingers to slowly cover his shaft, aching from being hard for so long already. From the sheer size and weight of him that you can see, you’re glad for the bottle of lube on your bedside table, though you’re so wet it probably didn’t matter.

Jack settles himself over you, tugging you up into a fierce, messy kiss, teeth and tongues and harsh breaths traveling from his mouth into yours. 

You were so relaxed that the stretch of him affected you only for a moment as he buried himself inside you. The gasp when he moves catches in your throat, a ghost of all the pleasure he had given you just moments before leaving your body.  

 His voice stutters as he slowly thrusts inside of you, setting a steady pace. “Should keep you right here just like this, make you cum until you forget your own name. Would you like that? Take care of you like no one else will?”

You swear, picturing his words as they traced themselves down your body. As heavy as the feeling of Jack resting his weight on you was, you thrived on it. Your arms felt strained from being tied, but he curled around you just so, keeping you both connected for as long as possible.

Jack’s arms flexed as he adjusted to reach for you, extending his fingers until they pressed into your parted lips.

Swirling your tongue around his two fingers, you could taste yourself on his skin. He then leaned down and used them to press into your clit. It had you closing your eyes, too overwhelmed to speak through it. 

You didn't have any smart comebacks in you now.

His unrelenting tempo jostled the bed against the wall. Moving back to lean on his heels, Jack pistoning into you at this new angle was overwhelming but you simply didn’t care. He yelled out in a voice you almost didn't recognize, hoarse and wet as it ripped from his chest.

“Come on Jack, cum in me,” you panted. “ Fuck , I know you’re close. Can feel you aching for it. You’ve been so patient. So good . ”

You intentionally clench around him like a vice, and it has him tumbling into his own release moments later with a startled shout.

Satisfaction seizes his veins in a chokehold.

He collapses into your chest, the both of you covered in a slight sheen of sweat that was beginning to dry in the cool air.

Whimpering slightly as he pulled out, he worked through his own lethargy to take care of you.

He leaned up and undid the knots holding you hostage. Immediately your arms flop onto the mattress, the burn of your muscles just adding to the mental catalog of sensations you take stock of. With Jack resting on your chest you card your fingers through his hair, the both of you too out of breath to say anything for a few moments. 

The weight of him on top of you kept you grounded.

Warm. Languid. Eyes drifting closed at how heavy you feel. 

“You are gonna be the death of me, woman.” 

“Mhmmm, if that’s the case then I’ll wait to tell you my proposal then. Wouldn’t wanna kill you before another round, Whiskey.”

He lifts his head from your chest at that.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, eyes unreadable as they scan your face. You didn’t care, the words light in your mouth as they leave you.

“Whiskey. You taste like it. And if you think this is the only time I take you to bed, then let me inform you: I still need to drink my fill of you.”

He scratched at his mustache for a moment in thought before he smiles, the most genuine of the night that makes his eyes crinkle with laughter. There it was again, that secret in his expression that has you eager to ask what he’s hiding.

“You’re a very perceptive person, honey. I am thoroughly surprised by you. Tell me what you have in mind when I come back.”

He jumps out of bed to walk into your en suite bathroom, his ass distracting as you watch him fumble around before returning with a warm washcloth to clean you up.  Each brush of his hands on your body is gentle, reverent even as it glides over you. He kisses where your hands had been bound, asking if he was too rough.

You almost laughed. 

You liked it that way. 

Something inside you wanted to stay in the moment, gazing at each other in the dimly lit room. Not forever, just a little longer. You imagine him walking away from you out the door, and it puts an unpleasant feeling in your gut, like you wouldn’t see him again.

You had the sneaking suspicion that if Jack didn’t want to be found he’d disappear.

“So I was thinking,” you began, finally tossing your stilettos off the bed to lay under your quilt. “I have an ungodly expensive espresso machine that makes a decent latte and fresh beans in the kitchen. How about we take a quick nap and then fire it up before round two? I heard once that drinking coffee makes the sex even better.”

“Don’t you mean rounds three and four?” He teased, that ego of his purring at the thought of how much you spasmed and shook around him.

If you weren’t so relaxed you would have probably grabbed onto his balls in response, made him swear around that crooked smile of his.

You'd learn how he liked it and edge him until he melted out of his damn cowboy boots. The thrill of him was delicious, and you hadn't gotten to take a true bite out of him yet.  

“You think you can go another round later and finally ride this prize stallion?” 

That makes you slap at his shoulder. His laugh diffused whatever seriousness lingered and you readily agreed, the both of you winding down as exhaustion hits.

 As his arms settle around you, you imagine the potential of a future with this man of mystery.

 He had barely scratched the surface of what made you wild, and you wanted to change that. Leaving Wonderland with him tonight was an event you were eager to repeat. 

[jqmalikhsgib]

astrology

four

you were currently in the kitchen making breakfast for you and jack. jack was still resting in his bed.

its been two months of taking care of jack and its been the best two months ever. jack was an easy child to take care of. he mostly played with his toys and watched cartoons. from time to time you’d get jack to do something educational—besides his homework of course—and he enjoyed it!

today you and jack were heading to a museum. you’d promised him if he got an ‘a’ on his spelling test you’d take him to see the dinosaur bones this weekend. he passed with flying colors! you had been proud of him. instantly putting the test on the fridge for display.

when you finished breakfast you walked upstairs. you gently knocked on jacks door. he was sleeping peacefully. you smiled before walking over to the small boy. running your fingers through his blonde hair.

“jacksters? come on, baby. breakfast is ready.”

jack slowly opened his eyes. “hi, yn!” he said quietly.

“hi, jack. come on, let’s eat, hmm?”

“carry me?”

you laugh before picking the eight year old up. you head downstairs. you sat jack down before making him a plate of eggs, toast, grits, and a glass of orange juice.

“eat up!”

you sat right beside him. you both sat in silence as you ate your breakfast together. for the next couple of hours you made sure jack washed his face, brushed his teeth, and got dressed for the day. you got ready right after.

once you both were well dressed, you allowed jack to watch cartoons for a little while. you still had time to go to the museum.

when it was time you help jack out his shoes on before walking out the door.

“you excited, buddy?!”

“yeah! its been a long time since daddy and i went to see the dinos!”

“yeah?”

jack hums. “last time we went is when mommy was here.”

you frowned. your heart breaking for jack. you knew he missed his mother. you made sure to tell him wherever she is she’ll always love him whenever he missed her and aaron wasn’t around.

jack would tell you she’d like you. you had no idea why, but that made your heart feel full. knowing that if haley was here she’d take a liking to you.

aaron had opened up a little more about his life with haley. she sounded like a lovely woman. always taking care of aaron and jack’s needs. putting them before herself. even after the divorce. she still adored her family.

she was a saint.

“okay, buddy! we’re here. ready?”

jack nods enthusiastically. you laugh as you get out of the car and help him out as well. when you got inside you watch jack as his eyes widened. you smiled.

jack seemed to be extremely excited. the both of you walked around. when he gets near the bug area he makes a face.

“bugs are gross! daddy says he ate a caterpillar once as a dare in high school. he got sick and had to go to ‘mergency room.”

you made a face. picture a teenage aaron eating a caterpillar wasn’t what you thought you’d ever had to picture. of course he did though. teenage boys are dumb.

after about two hours walking around the museum, jack got a little tired. you decided it was time to head back to the house.

you placed the small boy in his car seat before driving back to the house. when you get home you see aaron’s car outside.

you pick a sleeping jack up and walk back inside. you see aaron in his office. you nod your head when he sees you. he gives you a smile before you head upstairs to set jack down.

“how was the museum? i thought id be back in time to go with you. i know how much he wanted me there. sorry i couldn’t make it.”

you shrug your shoulders. “its fine! we had a good time. he told me you ate a caterpillar before.”

aaron groans at the memory.

“yeah. i caught him trying to eat one. i had to stop that from happening before he ended up getting his stomach pumped in the hospital. if i could go back id scold my younger self in being a dumb idiot.”

you laugh. “im sure you weren’t that bad.”

aaron scoffs. “i was the worst! always doing something just to get my dads attention or my mom to give me some physical affection. it was pretty fucking stupid.” aaron shrugs his shoulders.

he did do some crazy shit in his day for his parents affection. his dad was an attorney. he was a pretty good one at that. he wasn’t really around his family. he’d be off ‘working’ for someone.

reality was, he’d been cheating on his mom for years. it wasn’t like he didn’t know. he wasn’t hiding it. its why they had another child in the first place. sean was suppose to be the baby that fixed his parents marriage. aaron and his mother knew deep down his father wasn’t gonna change.

he was a manipulative, narcissistic, arrogant man who mentally abused his family until he got sick.

his mother was no better though. she’d been raised in a high class society. she was just as arrogant as his father. she thought haley wasn’t in their ‘class’ to be apart of this family. its the main reason why aaron cut ties with his parents.

last he heard his father got better and he’s still an cheating asshole while his mother keeps up this perfect family image.

young aaron was lonely and wanted his parents love. he’d do anything for it.

“i know what that’s like. wanting your parents attention.”

aaron gives you a sad smile.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“should we order a pizza for dinner?” you asked.

aaron hums.

“sure.”

you smiled before grabbing the phone and ordering dinner.

shitty fucking ending but i want them together already!!! —which is gonna happen sooner than you think ;)—