#and the cheese just did me in fully

[pillowfriends]

my life is stressful rn and I just took a break from stressful things to read New Spring and started crying laughing about Moiraine looking in this dead guy’s pouch and only finding some half-eaten cheese covered in lint. so 👍

[ruinakete]

☽ ・WHAT MAKES A PERSONALITY.

a template ( created by the wonderful Ree ) for analyzing features of a personality beyond listing adjectives. written beneath a readmore because of length, not spoilers!

SELF-CONCEPT

VIEW OF SELF: highly upheld on a pedestal created by her late tribe and the hierarchy of Fell Churches. though clouded by a heavy sense of superiority, there is the slightest chance of self-awareness from her, though it is an introspection that takes time. what is important to her is that she, above anyone else, knows her heart and mind. no one else can claim to relate to all she has lived through and she knows this; though the level of tragedy she connects this with is debatable. likewise, her view of self is duller than her view of others, as she truly does not care for herself at her core. this is not self-deprecation, rather it is the monotonous feeling that comes from knowing that, at the end of the day, she is what her tribe and Sombron have made of her. there is nothing else and nothing more.

VIEW OF OTHERS: hardly memorable. unlike her, time will pass for them and they will die, so their only purpose is to serve until their last breath. will she remember their names? hardly, but the impact they have will outlive their body. as a direct result of her behavioral inconsistencies and traumas, she alienates herself from society and, thus, does not view humanity and other immortal beings in any positive light. they are only useful under a leash. they are only useful if they can be wielded as pawns. if they stray from their fated path, then they must be punished. it is as much a law as it is instinct. either way, none of them will equate to the space necessary in the void of her heart; what she needs is a family, and other people cannot give this to her.

VIEW OF WORLD: unforgiving. selfish. the world is cruel to those who surpass their fate and, thus, she bares her teeth and takes as much from the world as she thinks she deserves; which is everything it has to offer. in her eyes, the world is ever-changing and will not wait for you to mend your wounds, no matter how closely you hold it at heart. you will not survive if you are not the aggressor. her environment taught her that pain is love and such love, one strong enough to destroy what it has created, is punishment, in its own way. to love was to hurt until you knew nothing else; to grieve was to love with all your heart. if you sought love then you had to seek the pain that is obligated with it upon your faults. thus, all relationships of value between her and the world were, and will always be, transactional.

MOTIVATIONS & GOALS: serve as Lord Sombron's greatest follower until he sees her as fit to be the mother of his child. whether it be one or plenty, she hopes to bear them and give fruit to lives of her blood. upon birth, they are hers, as a mother and idol and god. and that, the idea that, one day, someone she brought into the world will revolve that very world around her, is what keeps her focused on the future. but somewhere, along the line, another motivation has formed upon her arrival; protect the Four Hounds and restore what they once were.

WHEY THEY VALUE MOST: family, both in the physical and metaphorical sense. the idea of having and taking from someone who owes you their entire life for giving fruit to theirs.

EMOTIONAL REACTIONS

REACTION TO STRESS: most, if not all, negative emotions end in her lashing out in an attempt to regain the control she once lost. so, when stressed, her composure falters; she becomes jittery, scheming, and distant. she'll refocus all of her energy on picking apart the stressor and, upon recognizing what it is, eliminating it without hesitation. this could mean directly destroying the stressor or completing it, but whichever it is, she does not ignore it. it, also, does not matter what this stress comes from; whether it be a responsibility, environment, or person. the execution, however, of this determination is usually heartless and selfish, as she will go through anything and anyone to calm the nerves of her heart.

REACTION TO FEAR: though fear, too, is a negative emotion, it does not necessarily end in an unwavering sense of hostility. to fear something is to think that it has the weight to actually affect you. and, thus, it is fine to say that fear isn't an emotion she's faced often in her thousand years of life. upon first face of this subject causing her fear, she's incredulous. confused or shocked, rather than frightful. but when the emotion sets in, she becomes quieter. curt. this silence is not submissive, lest it be in the face of Sombron. her following reaction will be to right what has been wronged; control. she will combat this fear with confrontation if the risks prove to be lesser, but she knows her limits and will not provoke the fear if it will bring her harm.

REACTION TO SUCCESS: to revel in her success is not rare. this is, usually, done in the form of taunting the losing party. however, her reaction to success differs between the success of herself and the success of those she deems as hers. for the former, she does not seek praise. it is not the acknowledgment she requires, as that is flawed and not taken at heart's value. if not from Sombron, then she does not want it. however, praise is what she requires when her pawns succeed. for them to win is a win for her, as it reinforces the greedy pride of being able to create something worth loving. otherwise, success, to her, is conditional and can always be revoked. it is not something worth celebrating by the masses. in fact, it could be argued that success makes her hungrier for the possible retaliation that will follow.

REACTION TO FAILURE: depends highly on who she fails regarding the event. in light of disappointing Sombron, her apologies are swift, curt, as there is nothing else to say. her willingness to right, again, what has been wronged is high and she will take no other answer unless she's given the other chance. there is no guilt, as she does not recognize such a feeling, but the feeling aches similarly. if in the case of failing herself, her reaction is duller. again, at her core, she has come to terms with the fate she's been given, so all she is to do is find her way back unto the path paved for her. she'll try again, more determined, but emotional reactions are little to none. she understands herself best and will right herself accordingly, aiming to engrain into her the teachings that made her who she is.

DEVELOPMENT

IDEAL SELF: is constantly changing, to the point where she cannot fully recognize where she, herself, wants to be. what amount of development would be enough? from whom would this development come from? all she knows is that the ideal life she sees fit for herself is that of a mother, as it was the only thing able to fill the void in her heart. key word: was. new events have shone a light on her ideals and hope to shift them. unfortunately, because of her lack of concern for who or what she becomes, as her fate will always be written before her, the exact ideal self is unknown.

AREAS OF GROWTH: as mentioned before, loneliness is still a factor she hopes to heal. being alienated from others, even dragons like herself, because of the behavior she adapted to in hopes of defending her heart will always prove her efforts futile. to grow requires the knowledge to understand exactly what is necessary beforehand. thus, her concept of what can heal her is false and flawed. it's simple and, if she does not recognize her emotions and pick apart the years of manipulation, all will be hopeless.

BARRIERS TO GROWTH: the inability to wear her heart anywhere that is not the steel bars of her ribcages; the continuous conquest of favor for Sombron; the inability to recognize how she has affected the world and vice versa; the inability to be truthful lest she fear bleeding out on the spot; and time wearing away at the familiarity she should have with her own emotions. there is a lot that stands as an obstacle to her development. none of it will disappear quickly, so she must approach it slowly and with patience.

[yo9urt]

my soul will be judged

[foilflingza]

hey, PSA. if youre a vegan that doesnt even like it when your food is /touched/ by meat. you need to tell the restaurant youre at /specifically/ to use meat-less dishes. we are Not taught to seprate meats from the veggies and, every so often, we'll get a complaint about it -__-

[cosmocove]

birthday doodle dump

[boyfeminism]

i hate when you feel bad because you have not eaten and the manifestation of that feeling is not wanting to eat

[sol-flo]

got the picayune dreams true end... it's cute...

[redflagshipwriter]

Batmom Cass : enter Barbara

Part one of 2

“You did good work,” Barbara said, in a casual tone. Proud.

Timmybird nodded and gave a flash of teeth in a smile. Didn't believe. It's nothing, look away. “Glad you think they'll pass.” He rolled his neck. “I don't want anyone to be able to prove he's Danny F.”

Cass watched their interplay casually, hair damp from the post-patrol shower and comfortably swimming in an oversized sweatshirt. She played with the ends of the sleeve as they talked.

“They can suspect it all they like, but it'd be hard to disprove this is a separate kid.” Barbara ran her palms over her wheelchair handles in an unconscious tic that meant she wanted to go, go, go. “Still, I like the idea of keeping him out of the public eye until we nail down what's going on in Illinois. This GIW group is bad news.”

Cass bit her lip and flexed her toes, uncertain. Danny was getting restless. And he was a teenager: he needed to be in school. He needed to learn, stretch his wings, grow.

But safe. He needed to be safe, first.

The trouble was she didn't know how to make him fully safe. She'd had him for four days now. Judging by the report of his death, Danny baby had been homeless and on the run for more than a month. He was hiding. Even when she was in the room, he was looking for attacks. Who was he looking for? Dad and mom Fenton? GIW group?

“-gonna hit the showers,” said her little brother.” Cash barely registered him heading to the batcave bathrooms. She was internally weighing her bat nosiness sense against her worry about pushing Danny for answers too soon.

“Am I good to meet him, Mamabird?”

Cass blinked back to awareness. “Mama bat,” she corrected. “Yes.” She cracked her lower back. Mm. Too much standing after patrol. She needed to move a little. “Breakfast. Baby wakes up soon.”

Barbara snorted. “I'll go to bed after,” she said wryly, because they had been flying and solving into the morning light. Riddler was out on the streets. “Did someone check with Alfred about adding me to the breakfast table?”

She didn't know. Cass hummed and flipped over to walk on her hands up the stairs. It sent a pleasant ache through her upper back. Stabilizing her core and legs was just the right amount of casual challenge to make her body feel better.

“Christ,” Barbara said quietly, and huffed out a laugh. The elevator dinged. “I'll see you upstairs.”

Barbara Batgirl beat Cass to the top. Cass huffed in displeasure at the loss and flipped back to her feet. She ducked into the first bathroom they passed to wash her hands.

Alfie was in the kitchen in his morning waistcoat and a thin, comfortable button up shirt. Casual day!

“Good morning, Miss Cassandra,” he said. The kitchen smelled like yeasty bread. Cass sneezed happily and peered around to see meats, cheeses, and fruits.

“Morning!” She chirped. “Barbara wants to stay for breakfast,” Cass said. Barbara wheeled in a moment later, sheepish.

“Good morning, Alfred,” she said. “If it's not too much trouble-”

“It's no trouble at all,” he reassured. “Miss Cassandra, would you add an extra place setting?”

Cass hopped to it, mimicking the placement Alfred had made. It was a nearly full table today. Timbird, Batdad, Dickbird, Cass, Danny baby, Damibat. And now Barbara bat.

She heard a jaw-cracking yawn before Danny swung open the door. “Good morning,” Danny baby yawned through his hand. His eyes were bleary. She watches with amusement as he shuffled in, face down. “Have a good ni-”

He stopped. Eyes on Barbara bat.

New adult, he was scared?

No. Cass rapidly calculated and shifted his shifting body language into emotions. Surprise, joy, love-love-lo-wrong! Not love! Sad. Wistful.

“This is my baby,” Cass said, pretending she didn't notice the reaction. “Danny. This is Barbara.”

Barbara must have noticed Danny's reaction to her. She didn't move closer, lifting a friendly hand from across the countertop.

Danny looked haunted. Danny looked small. “It's nice to meet you, Barbara,” he said. Weak smile.

She had to talk to him, Cass realized. She had to talk with him today. No more delaying. After breakfast, she would talk.

[bee-wg]

Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face. 

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it. 

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded. 

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.” 

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence. 

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.” 

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number. 

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it. 

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer. 

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team? 

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.” 

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-” 

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to. 

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home. 

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour. 

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?” 

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people? 

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual. 

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space. 

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“ 

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled 

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites. 

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food. 

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said. 

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog. 

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

[okwonyo]

（ 标题 ） MIDNIGHT WISHES.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀something wakes you up in the middle of the night.

( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) ୨୧ f .. r 7OO fluff established relationship ── flirting kissing skinship not proofread ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

jiah says ⠀⦂ ⠀because it is mine, and i am sure, someone else’s birthday today ! happy birthday to us 💌

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

the darkness of your room welcomes you as your eyelids get less and less heavy. you try to blink away your tiredness, fighting to keep consciousness although your bed is begging for you to go back to your dreaming state.

you groan, sitting down. the relaxing feeling taking over your body for a minute when you stretch your neck ends up being the thing fully waking you up. 

there is a song coming from your window. like something is tapping against it and if you felt like being paranoid you could swear your name is being called out there.

your gaze makes out the numbers on your numeric clock, “mid—” you start and with a sigh you finish, “—night.”

the sound outside gets louder while you reach for the lamp on your nightstand. your heart jumps in your chest when you see a shadow in front of your window. you have to close your eyes tight and open them again to realize it is real and is also—

“jake?” you say your boyfriend’s name in disbelief, jumping out of your bed to walk quickly to the window. opening it, you ask, “what are you doing he—”

hot lips collapse on yours as soon as the window is fully opened, he stumbles on his feet as he gets in but he would rather fall face flat on the floor while kissing you than letting you go.

after he gets in your room, he embraces your waist with one arm as his free hand holds the back of your head.

you kiss him back, of course, because you are completely sick. cupping his face, you let him tilt your head to the side to have a better access to your neck. he walks you both to your bed and when the back of your leg hits, your body falls on it, his falls on yours. 

he goes to kiss your cheek, leaving several pecks on the same spot. you smile while biting down your cheek, you already know you are looking like an idiot.

the ghost of his kisses remains as he holds himself on his forearms, “happy birthday,” he whispers. he kisses your nose, “my beautiful girl.” 

you open your mouth to say something; right, this is why he is here. the realization hits you like the sun on a summer day, it makes you tear up like when you stare at ir’s ray’s for too long. you close your mouth, smiling shyly. 

your knuckles brush against his cheek, “thank you,” you say. 

the tears in your eyes get heavier as you hold his gaze. you end up looking away, this is not a battle you can win, you accepted that a while ago. you have never heard your voice being so soft before,  “did you stay awake just to tell me that?”

he kisses your cheek again, “of course,” he goes to the opposite one, “i’ll give you your guft after school today, m’kay?”

you nod, eyes dragging over his form. jake is well dressed, as always. his hair is perfect and he smells nice, which would feel like the usual if it wasn’t the crack of dawn. which contrasts with you being dressed up in pink pajamas (what can you say? pink never goes wrong!). 

“were you dressed like that today?” you question him, fidgeting with the cole of his button up shirt.

and as if his only presence wasn’t making you lose your sanity enough, he has the audacity to blush when he answers your question. 

 “ah, no, i dressed for classes already because i assumed i would…” his voice gets progressively quieter as he speaks. to the point you don’t hear him anymore. 

“you thought you would stay for the night,”  you intended to turn that sentence into a question but it ended as an affirmation. your cheeks heart from how hard you are cheesing when your boyfriend shyly nods. 

he avoids your gaze for a while before your palm finds the back of his neck, “good,” you tell him before kissing him.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Alastor's reaction to "Bitch, what's for dinner?!"

There is no way in Heaven or Hell this man is every saying this to you. He'd be terrified of his Mama hearing him from Heaven and coming down to reinstill the fear of God into him. Wooden spoons and switches hurt when wielded by a righteously angry woman. Not that his mother hit him often (his father did more than enough).

And you value your life and your relationship with him to try it. In fact, it probably doesn't even cross your mind to test it.

You're not even sure why it's trending. It is a really sweet video and highlights the lingering effects of abuse, but for people to recreate the video is odd to you. I mean, maybe not, because you see a lot of cosplay under the sound, and you'd be lying if you didn't agree with some of the ships being perfect for this audio. But like, you don't want to recreate it with Alastor.

So how would it come up?

Well, you and Alastor are sitting together, it's later in the evening, he's reading his paper and listening to radio and you are sitting quietly beside him, phone volume and brightness on low so you can watch a few videos, the compromise you made with Alastor about technology being near him.

The sound comes across your feed paired with yet another couple re-enacting it and from the corner of your eyes you see Alastor's ear twitch as the door slams on the video and the man shouts at his girlfriend.

The second she responds with the timid "grilled cheese" his head snaps towards your phone, the video glitches, and your phone shuts off (at least he's stopped breaking them).

"How distateful. And to be comfortable with others seeing him behave so brutishly. Clearly, men today need to be taught manners, their poor mothers. What an embarrassment to have your child turn out so disappointing."

You lean against him and pat his arm.

"If you'd have waited until the end, you'd see it's just a trend. People yell this at their partners to see how they'll react, if they take that abuse or not, and if they do, they always reassure them to never let anyone speak to them that way. I think it's supposed to be cute and supportive."

Alastor rolls his eyes, muttering about how nonsensical that is. You get your phone working again and decide to put on a true crime podcast to listen to before getting up. It's your turn to make dinner, so Alastor's your helper and dishwasher tonight. You wait for him to finish his page, set his paper aside and stand, his arm going gently aroind your waist as you two stroll to the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway and turns to you.

"For the record, I should hope I would never stoop so low as to treat you that way, but if I do, or if something I say or do truly upsets you or harms you....please do not refrain from telling me."

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "Just telling you? Usually those videos end with their parnters granting permission for their partner to slap them."

Alastor chuckles. "If you feel it's necessary. Though I'd prefer we just talk."

"I'd prefer that too. And same goes for you, always tell me if I've crossed a line."

"Of course, my dear. Now, I'll demonstrate the proper way to phrase that question."

He takes your hand dramatically, lifts it to kiss the back of it, and guides you fully into the kitchen. "What are we making for dinner, mon cher?"

[leonw4nter]

A Dinner For Three

Husband!DI!Leon x F!reader

“Honey, it’s time for dinner. Time to get up,” your husband’s soothing voice gently tugs you away from the prying hands of a deep sleep. You slowly drift back into consciousness but you don’t open your eyes just yet, trying to linger in the border between sleep and the waking state for just a little longer. His calloused yet careful hands gently brush the strands of hair that veiled your eyes and nose away before moving to rake his fingers through your hair, trying to get you to finally get up and join him for a meal. You feel the couch dip around your waist area, prompting your lids to lift open. Your drowsy gaze falls on Leon who is now sitting beside you, a large hand placed on your leg as he gives it gentle squeezes in the way he knows you like while a pleased grin curls the tips of his lips skyward.

“Can’t I have dinner later? I still wanna sleep,” you drowsily mumble as you scratch at your arm, a little itch bugging you.

“I made you kimchi fried rice with two fried eggs and some boneless fried chicken with snow cheese,” he responds in an encouraging tone as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

At the mention of these meals, your mouth watered and you shot up. Well, as much as you can sit up with an eight-month old baby bump and the world suddenly spinning at the sudden movement of your body. Leon rushes to be closer with you, helping you sit up as he scans your face and body. He knew that you easily get dizzy now that you’re eight months into the pregnancy so he made sure to move you as slowly and carefully as possible so as not to trigger your nausea, helping you sit up while propping up some pillows behind you to give you time to regain your bearings before fully standing up.

“Someone got a little too excited,” he chuckles as he helps you sit up and recline into the pillows he placed behind your back. “Thought you wanted to sleep a little more.”

“Not when there’s a promise of fried rice, egg, and chicken,” you weakly chuckle while caressing your bump as you try to get your vision to stop spinning. Leon stayed by your side, observing you if you needed anything. After asking and then confirming that you didn’t need anything from him, he got up and walked over to the dining room. A few minutes later, he came back with placemats to place on the coffee table in front of you. He decided to bring along plates of dinner with the utensils to you, not wanting to make things more difficult or tiresome. Dinner was still steaming and the delectable aroma wafted through the air, your stomach grumbling in response to the feast in front of you. Tears sprung to your eyes, unable to hold back on the strong emotions brought about by raging hormones. A soft sniffle and a faint ‘aw’ catches Leon’s attention, turning his head to you. He quickly puts the plates he brought down, moving towards you and kneeling in order to look at you. His hand wipes a tear from your eye, a tender smile of his own playing on his lips though he looks worried.

“Something wrong?” he softly asks. “Why’re you crying?”

He moves in towards you, enveloping you in a delicate hug as he carefully sways you back and forth while he rests his head on your chest, his ears picking up the faint beats of your heart.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “My emotions are just… everywhere. I’m like– really hungry, happy, sentimental, and- and the fact that you moved dinner here instead of making me walk t-to the dining room– and also because I love you so much and you love me too,” you rambled with a sniffle in between.

He pulled back and peppered your tear-streaked face with kisses, his prickly stubble brushing against your cheek with each kiss planted before taking his time to admire his glowing wife, wondering what the hell he did in his past lives to deserve someone like you. “Must’ve stolen from the rich and given to the poor to have the greatest wealth in the form of her love,” Leon thinks to himself.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Very much,” he quietly tells you as he presses your foreheads together. “So, how about we have dinner now?”

You nod enthusiastically, smiling and chuckling as he helps you get down from the couch and into the floor, the ground beneath you lined with a soft towel laid on a pillow. He also got another pillow from the couch, placing it behind your back so you can recline and ease the weight you’re carrying. He gently rubs and presses on your lower back, letting you move into a much more comfortable position for eating. He takes your plate and adds in food, occasionally looking towards you as a way to silently ask if the servings he plated is enough already. You nod and take the plate from his hands, only to add in a few more servings to your plate as an excited gleam sparkles in your eyes. He chuckles and fills his own plate, his gaze occasionally flitting towards you. He takes his own spoonful of rice but not without shamelessly gawking at his wife sitting beside him; the way she lets out little happy squeals and does a pleased little dance is a sight he could watch forever. With each savory bite of the meal she so enjoys, Leon realizes that his life is similar to the dish in some form– a blend of different flavors, textures, experiences, and emotions elicited that led him up to this pure moment.

It occurs to him that this is their first dinner in their new home, having moved out of an old duplex due to safety concerns. The inside of their home is still unfurnished, boxes full and empty in every nook and cranny; the rooms would be void if not for basic furniture like chairs, tables, and their shared bed in the bedroom. This dinner would be their first and hopefully not the last to come in the years that this house will serve as a shelter to Leon’s family. He smiles at the realization, looking to his right to see his wife coming back for more. It warmed his heart to see how something simple and mundane like a warm meal satisfied you, your eyes all dewy and your soul satisfied by the good food. He couldn’t help but inch closer to you, bringing a hand to your growing bump and gently patting it.

“I’m glad you’re eating well, hon.” he softly whispers. “I’m happy that the little one is eating well too. I’ll continue to cook good food to keep you and our child happy, my dearest. Even when our baby grows up, I’ll continue to make sure everyone’s happy with the food they’ll be eating.”

You turn to him and grin, cheeks puffed up and full of rice and chicken. Even in this state, when you look funny and maybe even a little disheveled with your hair sticking out in all directions, he still looks at you like you’re the most marvelous view he’s ever had the chance of stumbling across. He opens his mouth as you move a spoonful of fried rice towards him, closing his lips around the spoon with a pleased hum.

“I know I look gorgeous, Leon, but you gotta get some bites in. Continue staring later,” you sweetly tell him.

He can’t wait for the moment when he’ll be able to do the good ‘ol “here comes the airplane” feeding trick for his baby.

NOTE - Will make note pretty short coz I'm eepy and wanna go to bed :)) Grades tomorrow morning, very terrified hopefully my grades aren't super low👍This fic was not proofread and was done in a cafe while waiting for my ride (finally understand the appeal of doing work in cafes; felt smart). EDIT: It's now the morning after I uploaded this and I decided to fix some things coz I feel like something was lacking and turns out I forgot to give credits, so I added that one right away. I'll try to write something a lot longer soon because my fics have been short lately 😭😭 I also watched a few clips of 'Welcome To Raccoon City' and now it's one of my comfort crappy movies. Like it's bad and that makes it GOOD. Anyways, thank you for reading my fics, I appreciate it very much :)) I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!! The heart dividers were made by @firefly-graphics , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[theeveninghour]

All My Dreaming | Part 2

Summary: After accepting the mating bond, you and Azriel explore some missed opportunities. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

A/N: Thank you for the love on All My Dreaming!!! Not to be horny on main but I couldn’t stop writing for this story, here’s ~8k more words of extremely sweet and very nasty Azriel. I really wanted to write a fun scene with Mor and the gang Rita’s but couldn’t find a place for it in the first part, so y’all are getting it here. There is like, so very little plot here, I just wanted to write a few more scenes and give some additional backstory on these two because I think they’re cute. Also, I love writing little vignettes for this storyline so I might post a few more, much smaller (lol) snippets of them as an epilogue! 

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

WC: 8.4k (i have no self control)

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, cunnilingus, face sitting, more love declarations, Cassian being a lil flirty in flashbacks, soft dom!Az, little hints at jealous!Az, the slightest amount of angst, talk of previous abuse (but nothing too descriptive) and slight breeding kink because Az has one (I feel this in my bones). Azriel is down astronomically bad for the reader in this one y’all. The last 2.7k is literally just porn lol 

Part 1

True to his word, Azriel kept you in the meadow until dawn. The sun beginning to paint the night-sky with sepia hued pinks and oranges. You’d long since finished the wine, eaten half the bread, and most of the fruit and cheeses. He laid against the quilt, wings spread magnificently as you laid against him, thigh over his abdomen, head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing idly at the tattoo inking his chest. He hummed contentedly, and you ventured your eyes up his, finding his gaze already on you.

“Can I ask you something?” You tested the waters of this new thing; bond, love, cocoon that enveloped you. “Anything,” he smiled. “When did you know?” You asked softly. He furrowed his brow. “That I loved you?” He asked and you nodded, turning your upper half to rest your chin on the hand that had stilled against his chest. He laughed. Mother above, he laughed so warmly that it made your eyes crinkle and lips spread into a grin from the sound alone. 

“You’re going to hate this,” he said as a preface, smiling, dimples appearing as he looked to you, “but it was a few weeks after you joined us, and Cassian mouthed off at you about being late to training.” You raised a brow. “You fell in love with me, while I was being…….degraded?” You asked, a little deadpan. “No,” he shook his head in correction, still chuckling. “It was what you did after.”

Cassian kept a strict training schedule. He trained in the early hours of the morning on the balcony at the House of Wind, ate breakfast, then moved to outdoor weapons and flight training off the banks of the Sidra until the early afternoon. He was strenuous and strict in his routine, as was Azriel. You’d begun training with them the week before, and if you were totally honest, you weren’t fully comfortable with the two brothers yet. Cassian was rough around the edges, brutish, with a mouth that often got him into trouble. Azriel was quiet, observant in a way that unnerved you. You’d caught his eyes following you often and you hated the warmth that pressed into your cheeks when he did. 

Rhysand had warned them to give you time to adjust. You’d been brutally attacked by Beron’s dogs only a few months ago and forced to live in the wilds for nearly six weeks, eating foraged fauna and what game you could kill with a makeshift spear you’d carved using sharpened obsidian and a walnut branch. Your body grew weary in those weeks; endless fear, starvation, and sleepless would do that. You were still a jittery little thing, like a wild animal, jumpy when Amren or Mor managed to sneak up on you by accident. 

Azriel recognized these symptoms and allowed you a leniency he didn’t normally offer his trainees, but trauma, physical and mental, took a toll on the body as he well knew. He’d gifted you a golden hilted dagger on your second week with them and asked if you knew how to use it. You held it in your palm, noting the blue stone that sat in the bolster and double edged blade that you could see your reflection in. You looked a little gaunt, but your cheeks held color again, your lips were fuller, no longer dry and chapped from mountain winds and cold nights. 

“I know how to use a blade Shadowsinger,” you said in an even tone. You didn’t call him by his name then. You also called Cassian ‘General’ to his face, and ‘asshole’ behind his back. “Most females learn to use them,” you followed up, “out of necessity.” Azriel hated to dwell on those words, hated to think about what you’d gone through before Beron, what your father had done. He nodded once, and placed a sheath and belt down on the table next to you before taking his leave. 

You’d awoken late for training that day, the sun had rose to a bright position in the mid-morning sky and you knew you’d never hear the end of it from Cassian. You dressed slowly into your training leathers, belting your dagger around your hips and took a deep breath. You walked to the balcony, noticing the males absence and winnowed to the training grounds at the Sidra. Cassian’s eyes found yours immediately and he sheathed his broadsword, turning to look at you. Azriel was perched on a fallen tree stump nearby, and his eyes traced your face, noting the darkened circles there. He’d heard you screaming in your sleep last night and his heart ached at the sound, his shadows slinking off to find you. 

“So you didn’t forget,” Cassian said, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Tell me something, little girl, do you even want to be here?” He stressed the word want in his sentence in a way that had both you and Azriel narrowing your eyes. “This is the third day this week that you’ve been late to training, and the second that you’ve missed morning warm ups altogether.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I’m beginning to think Rhys was wrong about you.” Azriel went still and he felt a bit of rage creep up his spine at his brother’s harshness. 

In the blink of an eye, you’d unsheathed your dagger and thrown it at the Illyrian general. It whizzed past his head, nicking his cheek, and landed in the training dummy behind him. “Fuck you,” you’d growled teeth bared, as you shifted a stance that begged for a fight. Cassian turned and pulled the knife from the dummy’s eye socket, before throwing in the dirt at your feet. “A little to the left next time you try to kill me,” he smirked. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have missed, asshole,” you said as you fixed him with a glare and your jaw ticked in anger. Cassian’s face broke into a shit eating grin and he laughed, which made you sneer with frustration.

“Good to see you’re still alive in there,” he said smiling, “I was hoping we’d see that spark.” Your anger dissolved as fast as it built up. You reached down to pick your dagger from the dirt and sheathed it at your waist. “Seriously, Cassian, fuck you,” you said and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before stalking off to train alone. Cassian sighed and went to follow you but Azriel rose to feet to stop him, stepping into his path. “Let her calm down,” he suggested, placing a hand to his brother’s arm. Cassian sighed. He knew he was being rough with you, but it the only thing left he could think to do. “We’ve tried nice, brother. Tough love worked on Amren, maybe it’ll work on her too,” Cassian spoke softly before trotting after you. 

A few paces off you’d begun firing arrows into a target carved in the bark of an elm tree, teeth grinding. Cassian was right in his intent though, you had to get out of your own head if you were to move forward. You pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocking it on the bowstring and pulling it back until the bow met the pile at the tip. You heard him coming before you saw him.

“Listen, I’m just—” you heard Cassian’s voice and turned then, aiming and firing in his direction. The arrow flew through the air towards the General. The feathered fletching caught the bun at the top of his head, pulling hairs loose, before the tip burrowed into the tree behind him with an echoing noise.

“Mother above, you could’ve killed me!” The General shouted, face blanched. Azriel’s lip quirked up and he looked to you again, you were smiling, closed mouth but smiling, and he felt his heart grow warm at the sight. “I told you, asshole, I don’t fucking miss when I’m aiming to kill.” 

You laughed aloud, cheeks warm as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest. “I’ll go around threatening Cassian more often if it gets me a mate in the end.” The male at your side chuckled warmly and his hand found yours on his sternum. “He still talks about it, you know?” He offered with a shake of his head. “It was precisely the kind of thing Nesta would’ve done too.” 

You smiled back. “Good to know you Illyrians have a type.” He looked to you then and he smiled, eyes tracing your lips, nose, lashes, and the Winter white hair haloing your face. “Not a type, just blessings from the Mother,” he murmured softly. His hand trailed up your arm and pushing your hair off your shoulder and down your back. You blushed, warmth blooming on your chest and running up your neck to your face, painting your skin pink. 

 “Gods, who knew you had such a silver tongue,” you said chastising, looking to where his fingers played with yours as they rested on his chest. “You used to be so quiet,” you added, letting a small laugh escape you. Azriel shrugged and pushed up on an elbow as his hand left yours to run up your arm and cup your cheek. “Good to know you’re still thinking about my tongue,” he whispered before kissing you for the millionth time that night. 

It was mid-morning when Azriel ported you both to the River House. It was surprisingly empty, and you made your way to the kitchen to seek out food, still in the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled on your body. Rhysand had stocked the kitchen it would seem, as you found an array of fruits, vegetables, and meats in the cold storage there. 

“I guess Rhys was serious about quarantining us here,” you laughed before looking over your shoulder to find your mate, leaned against the counter, watching you with warmth. “If I cook for you again, are you going to ravish me?” You asked jokingly, pulling a knife from the block to begin prepping carrots for a quick stew.

He pressed forward then, coming behind you to push you into the marble, bringing his lips your shoulder and his hands to your belly. “I plan on ravishing you either way,” he said, lips tracing to the hollow below your ear, a spot that made you whimper as he’d found out the night before and catalogued in his head. You pressed your hips back against his, loving the feel of his body against your own.

 “Very interested in that, though I think it’ll be easier on a full stomach, so maybe go bathe while I cook,” you said, turning your head and nudging your nose into his own. He laughed again and the noise set your heart to skittering. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having him like this, so free and warm.

You’d seen Azriel in every form. The warrior that fought with skilled precision, teeth bared as he cut down his adversaries; the Spymaster that tortured, maimed, and killed Night Court threats; the brother that took his friend’s teasing in stride, lips quirking silently as he shook his head. You’d never had him like this though, laughing and full of affection, touching and grasping so freely.

His hand found your chin and you knew he’d heard your thoughts again from the look in his eyes. His fingers stroked up your jawline, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. “There is no one in this realm, on this continent, male or female, that has as much of me as you do on any given day,” he whispered before he pushed away to stroll out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You let a shaky breath go from your chest. He was trouble. 

Later, after you’d both bathed and eaten until your bellies were full, you sat at the dining room table, sipping a glass of wine. “You asked me this morning when I knew,” he started, setting down his wine glass as his index finger began tracing circles into red table cloth next to it. “When did you know?” You laughed and took another sip of wine, you’d need it to keep up with him. “Mine’s not as violent,” you fixed him with a pointed look and he smirked.

You took a deep breath, “it was several months later, at Rita’s.” He laughed warmly in disbelief. “What?” Surely you weren’t serious? “What in the Cauldron could’ve happened at Rita’s to make you fall in love with me?” His eyes were twinkling under the fae lights. 

Mor had begged you to go and you’d told her no at least thirteen times. You’d grown fond of the blonde as had she with you. She’d helped you immensely in your first months with the Night Court. She knew what it was to be hollowed out by trauma, particularly trauma that extended from those in the Autumn Court. She also knew bad fathers. You were grateful to her and you’d opened to her in a way you’d hadn’t yet with anyone else in Rhys’ Inner Circle. 

“Please?” She tried again, “We can go into the city and get you a dress, I’ll even pay for it!” You rolled your eyes, “You won’t give up until I agree, huh?” She’d laughed then. Her laugh was the kind of full bodied female laugh you hoped you’d get back some day. “You already know me so well, Little One.” She nudged your shoulder, before patting your cheek and leaving you alone to dress for the day ahead.

Little One had started a few months prior when you poked fun at Cassian during a dinner. You’d been ready to maul the General in your first weeks, but you’d settled into a peaceful truce. He’d been talking loudly about the female he’d been with the night prior, all bravado and innuendo. “Amazing you were able to land her at all with that ego,” you’d muttered taking a sip of your wine. Amren sat across from you and her lips quirked as she looked your way in silent agreement. She and Cassian were also at odds often. Cassian slid his eyes to you and they narrowed as you feigned innocence, setting your glass down and looking to your nails. “Did you just mock me, Little One?” He asked, head tilting as he watched you pick at a cuticle. 

You met his eyes and raised a brow. “Tell me Cassian, is what they say about Illyrian wingspans true?” You said, eyes glancing to Rhysand and Azriel, both looking thrilled at this development. “Cause as I see it, you look to be outmatched.” The room went quiet before Cassian bellowed a loud laugh, bringing a hand to his chest. “Cauldron save us, she’s got jokes,” he snickered and your lips curved into a smile. He turned to you then, lips smirking. “For the record, it’s not the wingspan that matters, it’s how you use it.” His rebuttal caused you to let out a breathless laugh as you picked up your wine and rolled your eyes. 

Mor had dragged you into the shopping district of Velaris to find an appropriate dress. The first store was a bust, and the second was looking to be the same. “Come on, Little One, there has to be one you’re interested in!” She’d said, voice going a little whiny on the tail end of the sentence. You’d scanned the boutique again, and noticed a dress hanging in the far back corner that was looked like threaded starlight. “That one,” you pointed and her eyes slid to it before her lips broke into a knowing grin. “You go to the dressing room and I’ll grab it,” she offered and you’d nodded, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. 

She’d brought you the dress and you shut the curtain in her face as she laughed. You’d undressed slowly, eyes scanning skin as it appeared. Your eyes zoomed in on the heavy scarring at your legs, Gods you hated those markings. Once the dress slid on, you pulled up the zipper at the side and adjusted the bust line.

You loosed a loud breath, it was…. generous in the amount of skin it showed and the style screamed Night Court. You turned and realized the back went down to your bottom, showcasing the two dimples at the small of your back. The slit at the side came all the way to your hip. ‘Cauldron, this isn’t a dress, this is a scrap of fabric,’ you’d thought. 

You turned and opened the curtain stepping out to find Mor looking at you with an open mouth.  “Are you sure you aren’t into females?” She’d asked. “Because I’d love to keep you to myself tonight.” You’d blushed and laughed heartily. “Is it good?” You asked cautiously, turning in a circle. “Good? Little One, the males will be on their knees,” she said eyes twinkling with mischief. 

You’d bought the dress despite the insecurities and gone home the House of Wind to get dressed. Mor had sent Nuala and Cerridwen to you to help with your hair and make up and you’d thanked them profusely.

As the moon rose for the night, you stood in your quarters staring at the mirror on the wall opposite your bed. You had looked lively again, your cheeks were fuller and the hollows under your eyes were less bruised than they had been months prior. You sat on a bench at the foot of your bed and started to pull on your heels, a leg shining through the slit of the dress. 

Once you’d buckled the strap your shoes, you stood, a little wobbly. It’d nearly a year since you’d worn heels and the last time you had, you were set to be engaged to the Autumn Court princeling. You refused to dwell on that and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping into the hall.

Cassian was exiting of his room as you were shutting your door and your eyes met down the corridor. He let out a wolf whistle and began walking your way. “Well, well, well,” he started and you braced for his comment, “don’t you look pretty enough to eat.” You grimaced and looked at him before scoffing, “pig.” His laughter made your lips curve into a smile. 

You strolled down the steps to find Rhysand and Azriel waiting there. Rhysand looked to you and smiled warmly, “You clean up nice, Little One.” Azriel’s eyes found yours next and his jaw dropped, then shut quickly, muscle ticking. A gloved hand at his side set into a fist and he could hear the knuckles crack. “I think she’ll be fighting the males off tonight,” Mor piped, appearing next to you, “wouldn’t you lot agree?” 

Rhysand and Cassian hummed their agreements but Azriel’s eyes couldn’t look away from your form. The dress draped your body like liquid starlight, the slit at your hip had his fists clenching at the desire to touch. Mor walked you past the males and he caught glimpse of your exposed back and something primal reared its head shouting at him to grasp, lick, bite until you were covered in his marks. Cassian flanked the Shadowsinger and whistled low, eyes following you. “I’ll have to find her on the dance floor tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming as they traced your retreating form. Azriel, though he loved his brother dearly, wanted to rip his throat out for even glancing at you. 

Rita’s was littered with intoxicated fae. Mor grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel made their way to the section explicitly reserved for their use. As you stood at the bar with Mor, a male came up to you, leaning into your space and asking your name.

The male ventured a touch to your arm and you leaned away, disliking the overt physical attention. As he spoke, a gloved hand appeared between you and Azriel pushed his way into the space without apology or acknowledgement. “Hey, I was talking to her!” The male tried to protest loudly before Azriel turned and fixed him with a devastating look, causing the male to wilt before putting his hands up in surrender and walking away.  

You stumbled out a laugh as he turned back to you. “I think you may have hurt his feelings,” you said smiling, looking to the Shadowsinger. He eyes were already on you again, tracing your face, and hair, the long line of your neck. “That’s much too bad,” he said, signaling the bartender over and you both ordered a round of drinks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” the words came out of Azriel in a rushed whispered, as if he’d forced them out against his will. You turned to meet his eyes and your face warmed at the look there. “I was so nervous to wear this,” you breathed, “the last time I was in a dress and heels like these, I was engaged to marry a Vanserra.” You let out a small, cynical laugh. “Gods, I’m so glad I left.” 

Azriel softened then. “He didn’t deserve you, Autumn didn’t deserve you, I hope you know that,” he’d said, gloved hands laying flat on the bar top, the length of his middle finger grazing your own. You wanted to reach out to them, to ask why he wore the gloves around you, but you resisted. 

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m also glad you left, I’m glad you’re here most of all.” You met his hazel eyes again and traced his face. He was likely one of the most beautiful males you’d ever seen and he was being awfully sweet with you. He looked to Rhys then, the High Lord likely speaking into his mind. He smiled turning back to you, “Rhysand says he’s also glad you’re here,” he said mockingly and rolled his eyes. You laughed, a small tinkering thing, that made Azriel’s heart beat quicken. “Thanks, Az,” you smiled broadly at him and he knew for sure and certain you would ruin him.

You turned to your drink then as the bartender sat it down in front of you. You picked it up and took a long sip. If Azriel kept looking at you like that and speaking to you in hushed tones that made your heart race, you’d need about five more of these. 

You heard him take a deep, steadying breath at your side, turned to look at him, brow furrowing slightly. You were ready to ask if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Cassian said he was going to ask you to dance tonight,” he ventured and you snorted. ‘Of course he did,’ you thought with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “Would you allow me to be your first?” He asked, holding out a gloved hand. 

You looked to his hand then back to his hopeful hazel eyes, and you blinked a little slowly, a little disbelievingly. Just when you thought you figured him out, he threw you for a loop. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. As your body moved with his, you couldn’t help but wish for forever in this moment, forever in his hands, and his eyes. Mother above, you were in trouble. 

“That dress was pure sin, Little One,” Azriel smirked. “And I told you, I am quite fond of dancing.” You huffed a laugh and looked to him, a little bashful. Azriel laughed softly again. “Cassian pouted for days after that night,” he spoke, “he was mad I stole you away.” You wondered if Cassian could tell how utterly smitten you were after that night. “I think he was a little infatuated with you in those early days too.” 

You grimaced. “That’s much too bad,” you said, echoing his words from centuries prior. You stood then and stepped towards him to halt at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. “I always had eyes for you, baby.” 

You trailed a hand up his arm to his shoulder, then back to the shoulder joint of his wing, tracing the bone up to the clawed crest. His breath guttered out of him as he closed his eyes, brows furrowing at the sensation that zipped down his spine and settled in his lower abdomen. 

“One more question for you,” you said softly. “No,” he growled out, “I’ve had enough questions, I want to have you again.” His eyes opened and looked to you, scarred hands grasping your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there. “One more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” you offered. He raised a brow. “Whatever I want?” He questioned and you nodded. “Even if I want to bend you over this table and take you from behind until you come all over my cock?” 

Your eyes watched his predatory gaze and a feline grin appeared on your face. You laughed again, “considering that’s a win-win, I’ll gladly trade for that.” He laughed too and rolled his eyes in fondness. “Fine,” he conceded, “one more question, mate.” His hand traced back, grasping the flesh of your ass through your thin silk housedress and you gasped, “then I get to have you in every way I want.”

You had to shake the lust from your thoughts, focusing on the question that had been circling your mind since your return to River House. “Why didn’t you to tell me of the bond?” You asked softly, hand resting on the arm that held you. He took a deep breath, he should’ve expected this eventually, but in all honesty, he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible. 

“I just mean,” you took a shaky breath, growing a little nervous. “It snapped so early for you, and I—” you swallowed, “I wouldn’t have turned you away, surely you must know that?” Your eyes found his and he saw the imploring look there, brows slanting as your eyes swam with emotions. He took a grounding breath and his hand traced up your hip to your back as he pulled you in to bury his face in the soft of your stomach. 

“I was scared,” he said, though it came out muffled. You combed fingers through his hair soothingly and he tilted his head up to face you. “You were—” he stopped himself, “you are the single most magical thing in this realm.” He spoke softly, as if he was scared he’d burst the bubble of newfound love that had surrounded the two of you in the last few weeks.

“When I was a child, my half brothers tortured me,” he started, eyes wincing. “They did this, you know,” he held up a scarred hand. You nodded, Rhysand told you of Azriel’s brothers and father years ago when the subject of Windhaven came up and how you would likely not be sent on any missions there. “For my gift with shadows, they’d called me every name under the sun, insisted I was a bastard child, beat me, shunned me, cast me out. I was alone until Rhys and his mother took me in.” Your eyes teared up when you thought of how isolated he must’ve felt, how damaged. You knew feeling well. 

“When I knew I loved you, I resolved myself as unworthy of your gaze, your touch, anything,” he sighed and his hands pulled from you to fall in his lap. “I figured I’d been alone for centuries up until that point, and it was likely I’d be alone forever.” You pulled one of his hands into your own and brought the knuckles to your lips. “I love you,” you said softly, lips resting against the marred skin there, “I hope you know that.”

He looked to you and he smiled, a small watery smile as his eyes closed and he nodded his head. There was that gift again. “You know,” he said, “more than your beauty, or strength, I admire your courage and vulnerability. I think that’s what scared me the most.” He spoke softly again, wanting to preserve the shroud of gentle love that surrounded the two of you. 

“I saw how you were with Mor and Amren. How you cared for Cass, despite his explosive anger when Rhys went Under the Mountain for fifty years. How you attended Rhys when he returned in shambles, traumatized and broken.” He looked to you, eyes shining. “You took it all in stride with such….. care and endless love and I—” he paused, bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of your heart, of your attention, so I took what I could get. Your glances, your smiles, the teasing at dinners. I took it all and I made myself content with it,” he shuttered out a fragile, broken breath, eyes falling to the shadows that gathered at his feet attempting to console their master. 

“I’ve loved you in secret for two centuries, Little One, I’ve loved you so much my chest ached and I thought I would die from the unsung bond that resided there. My soul would know yours in any life. At the ends of the earth in total darkness, it would still find you.” He let out a shuddering breath, “you’re the other half of me.” His eyes found yours then and the look there made you feel overwrought with emotion.

You and Azriel had been friends for two centuries. You laughed and cried together. You’d shared meals and secrets, dances and fleeting glances, little chaste touches. You’d told him of your father, of Beron, showed him your scars. You’d pined for him for just as long and to know he’d silently yearned for you in return, your heart felt like it might break apart.

“The bond snapped for me during the war,” you offered him a small secret of your own and his eyes found yours, going wide at the revelation.

The second war with Hybern had been a brutal thing. Feyre and Cassian had taken to recruiting help out of the Ancient Prison on the northern shore of the Night Court due to Prythian’s limited numbers. You’d known it was a suicide mission going in and you’d nearly been right. You’d fought alongside death gods and monsters alike in a battle that would be legend for ages to come.

“I wrote you a letter before we left for battle,” another secret, but for him, you’d bare your soul. “I was going to tell you then,” you continued, “I’d been in love with you for 189 years at that point. I was so far gone for you but I’d assumed, that if you wanted me, I would’ve known. You would’ve said something, anything. So I put it all in a letter, worried I wouldn’t return alive.” His breath hitched, remembering the sight of you impaled on a sword, bleeding out in his arms.  He’d taken the soldier’s head off their body as penance and it still didn’t feel like enough. You let out a small gurgling laugh, throat tight, eyes wet with tears. “Sometimes I can’t believe I did.” 

You took a steadying breath and leaned to kiss his forehead, his eyes closing from the contact, mouth humming. You leaned your cheek on the crown of his head, your thumb rubbing soothing circles in the space behind his ear. His hands went around to your back, nose and cheek resting against the cradle of your chest as he listened to your heart, still beating strong beneath. The two of you were the sort of image that artists carved into marble, the picture of lovers so inseparably bound that they were one eternally, in every life. 

“In that letter I apologized for not telling you sooner, said I didn’t need the Cauldron to know it was you my soul sang for. That you were the one the stars had fated me to meet.” He clenched his eyes shut from where his head rested on your rib cage. Every word you uttered was like a poultice to his damaged soul, filling the cracks that had been there since his adolescence. 

He was wrong when he’d thought you’d ruin him. No, you’d save him, from the darkness that encroached his mind, the insecurities that lingered there. You were a flower blooming against all odds in the shadows, and he’d do anything for you. All his wasted centuries of dreaming had been given a name and form in you.

“I’m glad I ran from Autumn that day, glad it was Rhys that found me in the wilds, glad it was the Night Court that saved me, but more than anything, I am glad that every step I’ve taken in this life has led me straight to you.” Your hand dragged forward, over his cheek, to gently tip his chin up to face your gaze. “May you never doubt the depths of my love for you.” You kissed his forehead then before moving your lips to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose. His eyes fell shut and his hands came to hold on tightly to your wrists for fear he’d float away. You kissed his cheek, and eyelids, before making your way to his mouth. 

This kiss was just as electrifying as the first and he pressed his insistent mouth to yours desperately. He pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth and took your gasp as the opportunity to slip his tongue against your own. He could kiss you for a millennia and he would not get enough. He wanted all that you had to give and everything after that too. Nothing, not even flying, could compare to how his heart sped when you kissed him like this. He poured centuries of yearning into it.

He pulled off of your mouth and kissed the corner of your lips before leaning back to gaze into your eyes. “I’ll need to tell Rhysand not to expect us back for a few months,” he said, hand coming up to brush a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. Your brain, still two paces behind from that kiss, registered what he was saying and you let out a breathless laugh. “Months? Thought the frenzy was a few weeks?” You replied, still smiling, tears drying and he shrugged, fingertips tracing the skin at your collarbone. “I’ve got two centuries of love to make up for,” he stated softly before smiling in a feral, cunning way, “and I plan on taking my time.” 

Azriel ported you to the bedroom and you’d laughed, “I can walk you know.” He smiled, leaning down, kissing your cheek. “Save your energy, Little One.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you to stand between his legs. He allowed himself to look at you, unhurried, a little predatory. You did the same, eyes passing over tanned skin and freckles, tattoos and scars as your gaze made it’s way down to his hips, where you notice his length pressing tightly against the front of his pants. Your eyes trace back up to his, cheeks a little pink, only to find him smirking. 

“Are you ever going to be sated?” You laughed. You pulled the hem of your dress up to lean over him and settle a knee next to his hip as you crawled into his lap. He hummed, pulling your hips to his own. He traced his nose along the skin of your throat, inhaling your scent, committing to memory as he nosed the silk strap of your housedress, pushing it down your shoulder and pressing his mouth to the skin there. “For you? Never.” His tongue laved at the length of your throat, as he made his way up before bringing his mouth to yours.

This kiss was slower than the one you’d shared in the dining room. Tongues entwining, teeth biting. He dove deeper, sucking against your tongue before licking along the bow of your upper lip. He rocked his hips up to meet your own, his cock sliding against your slit in a way that had you gasping. His hand pushed your gown up over your hips to your waist and his gaze fixated on the center of your hips, you’d forgone underwear after your bath. “No panties?” He breathed into your mouth. “Maybe I should’ve taken you on the dining room table after all.” 

You laughed, rutting your hips against his own, loving the sound that rumbled in his chest. You pulled the little silk dress up and over your head, baring yourself entirely to his gaze. “There will time for that,” you said, voice laced with promise, “but I’d like for you to take me in a bed, properly.” He gave a little laugh then, bringing his face to your own, teasing at your mouth again. “Under the stars wasn’t romantic enough?” His hands found your hips and fingertips pressed into the flesh there. You were sure you’d be bruised all over come tomorrow. 

He leaned back pulling your hips up his abdomen. “C’mere,” he commanded, jerking his head in instruction as he laid flat upon the bed, wings spreading in full. He looked like a god this way, but the way he looked at you, muscles rippling as he tensed, jaw ticking, hair debauched, love bites down the tanned column of his throat from your mouth, eyes heavy lidded with lust; if he was a god then certainly you were his goddess. He growled then the noise escaping him unbidden as he hauled you higher to his chest, your hand shooting out to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“You are a goddess and I am but a hopeless disciple,” his voice had pitched deep with want, desire alight in his eyes and you thought you might never tire of seeing him this hungry for you. His fingers dug into your thighs and he hooked your knees to pull you higher. “Let me worship you until I find absolution.” He pulled you to his chin, teeth nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. His found your eyes again and he nodded to you. “You’re going to sit on my face, sweet one, and I am going to feast on you like the goddess you are.” 

Your breath left you in a shuttering broken gasp, and you leaned up, shuffling the last few inches. His arms wrapped around your legs, caging you to his face as hands came around to open your cunt to his view. He let out a primal noise that had the air leaving your lungs in pant and your hands grasped the headboard in some pitiful attempt at grounding yourself. He nosed your clit before pulling you down on his mouth, suckling at you like a man starved. 

His tongue pressed flat against your clit and you thought you might break apart. You were sensitive from the night before and you had to actively try not to rock down against his face. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled you forward, hands grasping your hips and rutting you against his hot mouth. You couldn’t help the shuddering moan that left your throat and he hummed along with you, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine. 

He circled his tongue in a pattern, quick flicks then slow drags of friction that had pleasure zipping through you until your thighs were twitching, nails digging into the wood of the headboard, hips rocking on his mouth. He nosed at your clit as his tongue slipped down to circle your opening, collecting the wetness that gathered there, groaning at your taste. His lips returned to your clit and he sucked it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, speeding the flicking of his tongue until your hands were shaking and your moans keened to a higher octave. 

“Azriel,” you gasped, a trembling hand found his hair, nails scratching. “Az — fucking Gods.” You looked down to him between your thighs and he watched you, the definition of sin. His cheeks had grown pink, brows furrowed, hazel eyes gone molten as he nuzzled his face into you. He unhanded your thigh to slide back to your ass, fingernails digging into the ample flesh there before he released it and his open palm came into fierce contact with the cheek. You jolted at the impact and the sound that left you was the highest, most trembling whine he’d heard come out of you. He catalogued it in his mind for later. 

His hand soothed the skin at your behind before smacking the skin again, the contact rippling across the flesh like a tiny earthquake. Your hips tilted against his chin faster, more desperate and your moans grew closer together, a little more frantic as you felt yourself approaching your peak. His tongue circled you again before he sucked the button into his mouth and began a steady, insistent pattern. 

You could feel the pleasure focusing, your lower belly tightening.  “Az— I swear I’m—” you gasped and your head fell back, exposing your chest and neck to his greedy view. “I’m going to come, baby,” you whined deep, hips canting in tight circles, desperate for release. He hummed an affirmation and his hands grasped your hips to guide your through it. Your release hit and the moan that left you was shattering.

You leaned back, hands finding purchase on his chest, as he pressed kisses to your thighs. “Gods,” you gasped, falling to his side as you moved off of him and pressed a hand to your chest, catching your breath. “Fuck me,” your eyes shut for a moment and you felt his lips pressing tender kisses to your eyelids. He kissed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, before whispering devastation there. “I told you my love, I want to take you apart slow.”

His lips came to your chest, pressing a kiss to the jugular notch at the base of your throat between the clavicles. “There is no war,” kiss, “no mission,” another kiss, moving south to the globe of your breast, “no threat this time.” He breathed into your sternum, tongue tracing the skin of your cleavage. 

You were right that Azriel was mouthy. Mother above, now that the gates had opened, he was bent on taking everything from you and you would let him. You would let him shatter you to pieces, trusting he’d put you back together again. 

“You’re wearing too much,” you complained, fingers pulling at the waist of his trousers, which seemed to have grown impossibly tight around his hardness. Your hand pushed under the band and fingers grasped him firmly, his gasp escaping directly into the skin over your heart. He rutted into your hand, mouth coming up to your own as he kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue.

You pulled back from the kiss and fixed him with an imploring look. “Can I put my mouth on you now?” You asked softly, batting your eyelashes a bit, just shy of begging. He felt desire rip through him, his cock giving a jerk. A growl released from his throat. “As much as I want you on your knees for me,” he breathed deeper. “As much as I want to fuck this pretty little mouth,” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you leaned forward to pull it between your lips, tonguing the scarred skin there as you sucked. 

His eyes fixated on the action, pupils blown wide.  He pulled his thumb from your mouth and spread his hand to grasp your neck at the height of your throat, “I thought our bargain was every way that I wanted you?” He watched your eyes flutter as he squeezed from the sides, your breath hitching, cunt growing wetter. He could smell your arousal and the feral need of the newly minted bond had him feeling utterly primal. “And right now, I want you on your hands and knees, begging as I take you from behind.” His voice had pitched deep, and you thought you might never recover from this. 

His hand traced down to your wrist, pulling it from his cock and then he patted your ass. “Be a good girl for me.” Your breath came out shaky and you nodded, scrambling to turn around and bend down to present yourself for him. A pleased hum settled in his chest as he stood to slip off his trousers before kneeling behind you. He ran his eyes up the expanse of your back, the scars that now resided there. He’d kill anyone who threatened you again, he’d take hands from their bodies if they touched you.

He watched your shoulders roll as you adjusted your weight, and he was reminded of every backless gown you’d worn in the last two centuries. How he had never allowed himself to touch you in the way he wanted.

He ran a scarred hand up the center of your back, leaning forward and grasping your neck from behind, bringing you up and into the long line of his front. His nose trailed your shoulder and his lips found the spot below your ear again. His teeth came in contact with the flesh there, biting then pressing his tongue into the skin to soothe the sting. The little whimper you let out made him smile, he loved you like this. His other hand reached down to guide his cock to your core, hips dragging the length through to slick there. His brain catalogued each sound that you made, he was mapping you out slowly, learning your body and memorizing all. 

The hand holding your neck released its grip, and he pushed you back forward, your hands trembled as they came to hold your weight.

Before leaving you, his fingers gathered your hair and he wrapped the length of it around his hand once before fisting and pulling, causing a low moan to escape you. “Hold on, little mate.” His voice ground out and he guided himself into your warm cunt, pulling back once, then twice to work you open until he sheathed himself fully.

His hips were flush against the flesh of your ass as he ground in and your breath began to come in pants. You were so in over your head and you loved it. He laughed, ‘I heard that, my love,’ he spoke into your mind. ‘Let me know if you want to stop.’ You nearly laughed aloud. ‘As if,’ you repeated your words from the night before.

His hand tugged at your hair in response as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hard and deep. Your back arched and your arms threatened collapsed. He began a slow and steady pace, rutting to the hilt and pulling out before slamming back home, skin slapping against skin. You could hear the loud suck of your cunt on every pull, the noise itself was desperately erotic, and Azriel fucking loved it. He wanted you like this like always. He wanted to stay in the warmth of your cunt for the rest of his days. He picked up his pace and groaned when he felt you clench around him as a wanton moan escaped you. 

His hand released your hair and he leaned over your form, kissing your shoulders, holding you tightly as he pushed back to the hilt and ground in, small cants of his hips causing your breath to tremble.

“Azriel, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” you spoke quietly, head falling forward. He laughed darkly, biting at the skin at the top of your spine. His hand grasped the front of your throat and brought you back up into him, mouthing at your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine,” he ground out, hips pushing faster. His other hand found its way to your front, tracing down your soft stomach to rub slow circles at your clit. “Tell me you’re mine and let me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You groaned feeling your orgasm crawling up your spine, cunt tensing. “I’ve been yours for two centuries,” you gasped out, breathless, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He growled out something primal, but you continued, delirious with pleasure as his fingers and cock broke you apart. “I’ll give you anything.” His fingers tightened at your neck and he slammed to the hilt, grinding in. 

“Anything?” He questioned, voice shaky with need. “Would you let me take you apart? Would you let me ruin your sweet cunt daily? Would you let me fuck a baby into you?” Your mind blanked and your voice pitched into a deep moan, a base desire possessing you. “Yes,” you nodded, breathless. “All of it,” you gasped, “anything for you, mate.” His eyes pinched shut, a low whine escaped somewhere from the pits of him. Mother above. His fingers squeezed your neck and he picked up the pace, fucking you faster. You shook with each impact of his hips, your breath leaving you in small whines. 

The scarred tips of his fingers worked your clit faster. “You’ll give me anything?” He questioned again, breathless, pace faltering as his own release tightened at the base of spine. “Come for me, my love, come with me.” Your breath caught at your throat as your cunt tightened impossibly around him and he groaned deep. You called his name as your climax hit and he keened a low whine, hips grinding into you, his seed painting your walls. 

He released your throat and gave a shaky laugh as he grasped your chin to find your mouth. The kiss was utterly depraved and your walls fluttered again, making him groan into your mouth. You pulled back and your eyes found his over your shoulder. “A baby, huh?” You spoke, voice a little wobbly. He wanted to shrink under the weight of your gaze, the question there. “Not yet,” he spoke softly, “but if you do decide to gift me with a child, I’ll be the luckiest male alive.” You smiled and kissed him, softer this time, heart singing at the promise there.  

He pulled out of you and let you collapse against the bed, rolling over to rest at your back. His eyes found your cunt and he watched with rapt obsession as his release leaked from you. You traced his gaze and a laugh escaped you. “Come here, my love,” you spoke softly, opening your arms. “I want to get some rest before you go feral again.”

He smiled, laughing lightly before crawling up the bed to where you awaited him. He settled into your embrace, head resting on your chest while his restless fingers began idly tracing the skin of your arm. Your fingers set to combing through the strands of his hair and his eyes closed, pleased with gentle intimacy of the action. “I love you,” he spoke softly, exhaustion beginning to creep in on him. You smiled, fingers trailing to his back, caressing the skin at the base of his wing. “As I love you,” you whispered, “more than anything.” He hummed and nuzzled to the skin of your chest as darkness overtook him. 

[jjksblackgf]

cherry flavored | jjk (m)

pairing — jeon jungkook x reader summary — You bet with your boyfriend that he can't handle more than five minutes of your tongue, but Jungkook never turns away from a challenge. You'll make sure to keep him in his place. genre — smut, pwp, established relationship rate — 18+ word count — 1.6k warnings — explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating.

The empty bottles of wine filled the center of the dining table, and the cheese platter was almost gone. Jungkook, with an arm around your shoulder, sat by your side at the dinner table, and your friend group filled the rest of the seats.

The laughter surrounded the apartment, and your friends filled you with joy.

“Can I help you clean up?” One friend asked you, and through her eyes, you could see she needed to talk.

“Sure thing,” you agreed. She asked your friend Alicia to join you in the kitchen before she started to talk.

“Guy, I need your help,” she said, nervous.

“Shoot,” you prompted.

“I’m dating this guy, and he’s got the biggest stamina ever!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know what to do. I need to get some sleep,” she finished whispering. You had to giggle at that.

“What is your dating life?” Alicia asked her, finishing the last of her wine. “The last guy didn’t know how to make you cum, and now this?”

“Everything in excess is bad for you, you know.”

“You need to control the situation,” you said. “Get him as hard as he can and only let him finish once you’re satisfied. That’s how I do it with Jungkook. Less than five minutes of blowjob and he’s done for. I usually do that when I want to speed things up.”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook appeared in the kitchen with some more plates for the dishwasher. 

“Did you figure out what they are talking about?” Jeremy, your coworker, butted in the conversation, walking into the kitchen too. 

“This one right here,” Jungkook said pointing to you, “just said that sometimes things need speeding up,” he said, frantic. 

“What things?” Jeremy asked.

“In the boudoir,” Alicia clarified.

“Oh, my man!” Jeremy shouted, hugging Jungkook sideways. “Be my personal trainer, man. I need that stamina,” Jeremy slurred his words and the girls giggled. 

“That’s rich coming from you, since you can’t take your hands off me,” Jungkook said. His face was full of emotion. Betrayal and cockiness were the most prominent.

“I can too,” you countered. Your friends just stood there, turning their heads from you to Jungkook and back.

“Alright, prove it. We’ll clock it. Whoever lasts longer wins.”

“You’re being such a virgo now,” Alicia commented.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. And with that, you shook hands. 

Even though your friends were fully entertained, they had to leave eventually. Jeremy wished Jungkook good luck, and he rolled his eyes. The dishes were clean, the wine stained tablecloth was in the washer, and you were done.

“High five for the cleaning crew,” Jungkook said, already offering both of his hands. You complied, and he used the opportunity to pull you to his chest and kiss your lips. “Shout out to us.”

“Shout out to us,” you agreed, pecking his lips.

“Want to go to the boudoir?” He asked, mocking Alicia’s tone. “I want to set a record from the jump.” You had to roll your eyes at that. “I promise I won’t gloat.”

“Let’s see how you perform,” you challenged.

You woke up after a blissful night, still riding the high of an orgasm before a good night’s sleep. 6 minutes and 12 seconds. You were ashamed. If you were to guess, you’d say at least 10 minutes. But he’s good. Really good. With a tongue of the gods.

Jungkook shifted in his bed, stretching loudly and with a sinful smile. He woke up feeling himself. He didn’t gloat with his words, but his expression alone had you fuming. You had to beat him. You’d have to pull out the big guns. To the drug store you went.

The day passed quickly, and in the late afternoon you came back from work ready to rock his world. You entered the bedroom and heard Jungkook turning off the shower. That was good, less clothes to take off. He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips and one drying his hair. His hair… His wet hair… It had you drooling. But you had a job to do.

“Wow, look at those pecs,” You said, sitting in the bed. You had the most fantastic view of his body. The light of the sunshine hit the droplets of water that were traveling through his torso just right. Mouthwatering. 

“Like what you see?” Jungkook said, wiggling his eyebrows and flexing his abs slightly. He walked closer to peck your lips. You used this moment to run your hand through his hair and hum in appreciation. Jungkook was really feeling himself now, smirking through the kiss.

Perfect time to enact your three step plan.

Step one, flatter his ego.

Step two, engage his competitiveness.

Step three, win

“You have somewhere to go?” you asked, holding his arm before he could go get dressed.

“Not tonight. Why? Feeling inspired?” he asked, jokingly stroking his abs, drying a few water droplets with the tip of his fingers.

“Actually, yes. I’m feeling pretty lucky to have left my end of the bet for tonight. You look so hot with water dripping on you like this,” you said, ogling his body and biting your lower lip. He gave you a breathy laugh.

“Say more words like that.”

“I’m ready to admit defeat. I just want to cherish you all night long,” you whispered. Wait for it…

“Wrong turn. I have the stop watch ready to go.” Bingo. “I am nothing if not a man of my word.”

“I guess that’s fine by me, too.”

“Where do you want to do the honors?” he asked, and you patted the bed, pulling him closer. He sat down, and you pushed his shoulders back, he fell down on the mattress and you straddled his lap with confidence.

“Bossy. I like it.”

“I can tell” you said, feeling his cock getting harder against your jeans. He was so easy. But getting him hard wasn’t difficult, getting him off on the other hand… But you had a good plan.

“Ready?” he asked and you pulled out flavored condoms out of your pocket.

“Yes, sir!”

“Condoms? I’m clean,” he joked, and you rolled your eyes.

“They’re part of the experience.”

“Condoms!?” he asked louder. “The things known to delay sensation of all mankind?”

“Not when I suck the flavors off them, they don’t.”

“Flavors?” he asked, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Get the watch going,” you smirked. He took a deep breath and pulled out the stopwatch.

“You’re on,” he said, pressing the top button.

You kissed his neck first, taking advantage of his position, and he closed his eyes. Maybe concentrating on not cumming, maybe enjoying the experience, maybe both. You grinded your crotch against his, and you noticed his breath get faster. 

You trailed kisses down his torso, savoring the many water droplets. You got off the bed and removed the towel easily. You opened the first condom, putting it perfectly. You saw Jungkook’s eyes shot open, and you knew he was curious about your methods.

“Which one is that?” he asked, trying not to sound so interested.

“Mint.”

“Refreshing,” he commented. He physically prepared himself, balling his hands into fists and taking a deep breath.

You had this, though. You used all of the pressure of your cheeks, wrapping your lips around him completely and bobbed your head slowly. You caressed his inner thigh in the process. Not much composed, Jungkook groaned and hissed, and you could see he was doing his best not to cum.

The flavor was gone in about two minutes, and Jungkook sighed in relief when it was time to change it. He ran his palm through his face, taking another deep breath, but you still hadn’t pulled out all of the tricks up your sleeve.

“Time for cherry,” you sang. Your secret weapon. Jungkook loved all things cherry flavored. The fruit, pies, jam, chapstick… So when his head shot up, and his eyes were about to jump out of their sockets, you knew you made the right choice.

You didn’t give him time to fully process it, your mouth engulfed him again, as deep as it could go. You made sure to use your gag reflex to your advantage, closing your throat around his tip, and retrieving it with a loud pop. The saliva trail left behind left you moaning his name.

“Jungkook, I want to taste you, baby,” you said seductively, and he whimpered, closing his eyes shut.

And you continued with your technique, ruthless.

One more.

Two.

Three.

When your lips wrapped around him for a fourth time, he pressured against the back of your head to keep you there. Your throat closed around him once more, and with a final grunt, he released you.

He panted hard, and you quickly grabbed the stopwatch, pressing the top button to mark your time. 5 minutes, 53 seconds.

He did last five minutes after all, just not longer than you.

“You played dirty,” Jungkook accused, seeing your inappropriate smile.

“Dirty is my middle name.”

Your friends were once more gathered around your dinner table. Jungkook was refreshing people’s drinks while you served the desserts. Cherry pie.

“How’s things with what’s-his-name?” you asked your friend, not bothering to remember his name.

“I took your advice to edge him, and it worked like a charm. But it’s not going to work, he’s too needy now,” she answered.

“Go figure,” Alicia commented.

“Hey, how was the bet by the way?” Jeremy inquired.

“Mind your business, Jeremy” Jungkook said, and the table erupted in laughter.

“How long?” Jeremy pressed.

“I lasted 20 seconds longer,” you gloated.

“Score!” Jeremy high fived you, and Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I thought you promised not to share.”

“I promised no such thing.”

[caputvulpinum]

It's funny. Maybe it's the way and the place I was raised but Spanish is, and always will be, the holiest language of Roman Catholicism. Ecumenical Latin, Greek, even Aramaic, the original languages the Bible was written in--I get it, I really do. But I wasn't raised in Christianity reading, hearing, singing Ecumenical Latin, Greek, or even Aramaic. And while a lot of it was in English, I'll admit, my strongest memories of my time in religion will always be in Spanish.

There's this musicality to it that I don't think I know how to fully comprehend how I can explain. Because it isn't about the musicality, really, though religious Spanish is a beautifully lyrical language. If I'm being perfectly honest, it's that I hardly speak any Spanish at all. I would often go to Spanish mass with my best friend growing up because we'd hang out on Saturdays and I'd go back home Sunday afternoon--after I went to church, of course. I didn't comprehend the language in the slightest (though I learned some through rote repetition, of course). But hearing the passion, the adoration--in the truly Biblical sense of the word--of the voices of the (my) abuelas around me raised in song, Señor, ten piedad, Cristo, ten piedad, Señor ten piedad de mí? How could I forget that in my life?

Maybe it's the history of it, y'know? Maybe it's the little ember of Marian heresy I'm convinced exists in the heart of it. Sure, Jesus and the Father and all that, but I mean, it's practically sacrilege to act like it isn't the Mother who rules the house of God in Guadalupe, right? I still remember the smell of the tamales I was too picky to eat. Every week for years. After a certain amount of time it became habit and sublimated, misplaced pride rather than any actual desire to not try them. I still never did, though. Somewhere inside me there is a little boy who made his first friend in the world and a second family refused to let him try and pretend that he wasn't that. Maybe one day I'll forgive him for not knowing any better and being too scared to try new things. Who knows? Maybe one day he'll forgive me for growing old. I tried pizza for the first time a couple months ago. Twenty-eight years of fear and pride and resenting all the other little boys for loving something but hating me. It's just bread and cheese and pepperoni, kiddo. Ain't nothing to be afraid of. Ain't nothing to be afraid of.

[tonyspank]

FIRST PLACE

Summary: You and your fellow cast mates play Spill Your Guts or Fill Your guts with James Corden.

Warnings: kissing, gross food and yea

"Hello, everyone!" James Corden announces to the crowd. "Here we have a wheel of all of the food you may or may not eat." You, Jenna, and Mason look at the wheel as James continues, "We've got cow blood & pork tongue jelly. Our lovely favorited, the bull penis."

The crowd laughs. Jenna quickly looks away, her face turning pale. Mason shakes his head as his eyes widen with shock while you laugh. James notices their reactions and grins, "We also have bird saliva, bug trifle, jellyfish, a giant water scorpion, and many other items."

You, Jenna, and Mason look at the foods placed in front of you with disgust. James smiles proudly, marveling at the wheel of food. He giggles, looking around at the three of you before announcing, "Welcome to the world of exotic cuisine!" Jenna let out a groan, Mason playfully rolled his eyes, and you just shook your head. You all had no idea what you were in for.

"Is that whipped cream?" You ask your host, pointing at the 'bug trifle'. James grinned. "No, that's not whipped cream. It's a special blend of cream cheese and grasshopper larvae." Your mouth drops open. You stare at the trifle in horror. "Uhh... I think I'm going to pass on that one."

"Just because you said that, I'll make sure to pass it on your turn." You smile gratefully as Mason shakes his head in disagreement, "That's totally unfair!" Mason looks at you and says, "I hope he replaces your bug trifle with the cow and pork jelly." You laugh and shake your head. " I think I'd rather take my chances with the bug trifle!" You and Mason laugh and Jenna joins in, finding the sound contagious.

"Y/N!" The crowd roars at the mention of your name, and you grimace. "This question is for you." James looks at you, holding the card in his hand. "But before we get into that, we'll have to choose your dish."

James looks at you, holding the card in his hand. "But before we get into that, we'll have to choose your dish." You take a deep breath and give a nod. You can feel the anticipation of the crowd, "I choose... bird saliva!" James picks, a playful grin on his face.

"That's not too bad," says Jenna, who is sitting next to you. "Let's see." James fully lifts the card. "Y/N! Who is the worst celebrity you've ever had to interact with?" Jenna Mason, and James turn to you expectantly.

You smile, "Umm... Wow! I'm really on the spot here." You could think of millions of names, but did you really wanna go through with the gossip? You look at the bird saliva that's now been spun in front of you, and then back at James.

Mason speaks up with a smile on his face, "Just say her." He jokes, pointing at the brunette beside you. Jenna's mouth widens in shock. You just laugh, and everyone joined in. "You got me, Mason. It's Jenna." You joke, turning to her and giving her a smile. After thinking about it, you can't do it. You lift the glass and indeed take a sip of the bird salvia.

Jenna grins and shakes her head, amused. Mason's face lights up as he cheers. James laughs as you swallow the liquid, gulping down the water right after. "I just wanna know why you drank that instead of saying a name!" Shaking your head you place down your glass. "Never again."

Mason laughs, "That was a brave thing to do." Jenna nods in agreement, "That was really courageous of you." James pats you on the back, "Well done, mate!" You smile, lifting up your hands in triumph. " You look around with a smug look on your face and say, "Oh, it was nothing. Just another day saving the world."

Everyone laughs and applauds your bravery. You playfully take a bow and bask in the glory of the moment. Jenna now picks up a card, holding it to her chest. "Mason, Mason, Mason." She repeats as her eyes scan over the food choices. Mason hums in acknowledgement, watching his co-star scan the items. Jenna smiles as she finds what she is looking for, "I chose the giant water scorpion for you."

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you!" Mason holds his hand over his heart, "I thought we were co-stars!" 

 Mason laughs, his mouth widening into a smile. Jenna's eyes twinkle mischievously begins reading the card. Mason listens, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who was the most annoying person on set?"

Mason looks around the room, his eyes meeting each of the crew’s. He points a finger and says, “Time to dig in!” Everyone laughs but it soon turns into shock as Mason quickly stuffs the scorpion in his mouth.

"It was probably Y/N," James jokes and you shake your head laughing. Mason swallows the scorpion in one gulp. Everyone stares in amazement and disbelief. Mason then says, "That was the most annoying person on set!" You can't help but laugh at Mason's comment. He looks around, a satisfied grin on his face. Mason then stands up and takes a bow, as everyone else applauds. He sits back down, picking up a card.

"Jenna, I want you to eat the bug trifle." Jenna thins out her lips and James laughs, "Any who! You've recently signed a deal with Adidas." Jenna nods in agreement and the crowd cheers, you lift your hands clapping along with them. James smiles, "You should be proud, it's a great accomplishment. You should celebrate with a bug trifle!" Jenna thins out her lips and James laughs.

Mason tilts his head with a nod at James' joke before raising the card again. "How much did they sign you for?"

Jenna doesn't spare Mason a second glance, the spoon already in her hand. Mason raises his eyebrows and James speaks up, "Really? Not even an estimate?" Jenna slowly shakes her head, scooping a spoonful of the trifle. "Don't forget the little roach too." You say, pointing at the roach onto of the trifle. Jenna shoots a glare your way, then turns back to her trifle. She takes a bite, her expression unchanged. Mason lets out a sigh and James just shakes his head.

Though she tries to stay strong but picks up her bucket, spitting it all out. "She thought she was a champ!" You laugh, looking at the crowd. They all begin laughing and Jenna searches around for her water, "Where's my water?" She asks. You hand her your own and she takes a sip. 

 She smiles at you and thanks you for your kindness. She then turns to the other people in the crowd and gives them a thumbs up. "I'm good!" she says. The crowd cheers as she straightens her back, and now it is your turn to grab a card. "Mr. Corden." He hums, smiling. "I want you to devour..." He raises an eyebrow at your choice of words earning a giggle for Jenna. "The jellyfish!"

You both laugh at the absurdity of it. "Or! 'I get to see what your last three texts with Justin Bieber were about." James pulls out his phone, nervously looking down, finding 3 texts worth showing. He slowly hands his phone to you. "Justin says, hey man how are you? It's been a while." You smile, glancing at the crowd. "James says, pretty well. I have a few things planned for the show. How is everyone on your side?"

James nods, remembering when he typed this, but he doesn't remember Justin's response. "Justin replies, thumbs up emoji." James grins, pleased, as he takes back his phone. "Nice lil convo there," Mason says and you nod in agreement. James pockets his phone and turns back to Mason. "Thanks, it was nice catching up with an old friend." 

Jenna picks up a card, smirking at you. You inhale a breath, "Throw it at me Ortega." Playfully she lifts the card in her hand throwing the card at you and you catch it with one hand. "Hey, show off," Mason laughs and you smile, feeling a bit of pride. "You know it," you reply.

She jokingly snatches the card back, using it to point at the cow blood & pork tongue jelly." Jenna grins, "Wanna try it? I heard it's really good." You make a face, "No thanks, I'm good. I'm sure Mason's game for it though." Mason laughs, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'll pass too," he says. Jenna shakes her head reads the card, "Y/N."

You smile at the girl sending her a peace sign, "Rank these kiss scenes from worst to best." You drop your face into your hands, the crowd gets louder by the second.

The girl looks at you stunned and you can feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. You really didn't wanna eat the dish in front of you. "Mikey Madison in Scream V, Alexa Demie from Euphoria, or me... in our new movie." She laughs, and you take a deep breath, "Umm!"

Mason's eyes widen. He then thinks of an idea, "Wait! Hold that response." He holds up a finger, taking his phone out of his pocket. He starts to type something. You can see the excitement in his eyes.

He looks up at you with a smile and says, "We can't leave her out!" He was going to call Mikey! She was a sweetheart and you really did enjoy your kiss scene with her. She was a talented actor and kisser! Mason quickly Face-Timed Mikey, who answered on the fifth ring. "Hello?" She says, her soft voice playing through the speakers.

You throw your head back groaning as Jenna and James wave at the camera. "We're on The Late Show right now and Y/N's about to rank her best kisses from worst to best!" James cheers as the audience erupts in laughter. You try to keep a straight face, but can't help but laugh at the ridiculous situation.

You take a deep breath and start to rank your best kisses from worst to best. "Um... Alexa because my character was a rebound. Ummm..." you glance at Jenna who looks back at you amused, and then at Mikey who smiles softly.

"Jenna because! Spoiler alert, you kiss Chad right after and then Mikey! There! Boom!" You stand up from your chair and the crowd screams. Mikey laughs and Jenna rolls her eyes in good humor.

Mason says his goodbyes to Mikey as James closes out his show, "There you have it everyone! Y/N's best kisses from worst to best! Make sure to check out Scream VI in theaters now! Have a great night!" The crowd erupts in applause, and Jenna and Mason stand up waving at the crowd, you do the same blowing kisses as well.

You take a bow with the cast and head backstage. Jenna and Mason thank you for joining them onstage, and you all hug one another. You make your way offstage, filled with a sense of accomplishment. As you walk back to your dressing room, you can hear the cheers of the audience still echoing in your ears.

You smile to yourself and bask in the glory of the moment. You can't believe how far you've come and how much you've achieved. You know that this is just the beginning of a long journey.

Half and hour pasts and you're sitting down in your dressing room, scrolling on your phone. Your fans didn't know you had a TikTok as you scrolling through the app on an alt account, sometimes interacting with them. You hear a knock on the door and you quickly put your phone away. Jenna appears from behind the door, a smile on her face.

"Oh! There's second place," you joke, standing up. Jenna laughs and says, "Our kiss scene deserves first place." What does it matter if I kiss Chad after? You're literally a homie hopper." You raise an eyebrow, "You cannot call my character a homie hopper as you admit to kissing their best friend in the same sentence."

Laughing, Jenna rolls her eyes, stepping closer to you. "I deserve first place." You smirk, "That's not how it works. It's all about believability and you can't portray a character like that and expect to win." Jenna sighs, "Fine. I'll concede, only..." She steps even closer, now having to look up at you. You feel your heart beat increasing, the air between you thickening.

Jenna looks at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, her lips twitching into a small smile. "If you let me get a rematch." She finishes. She holds your gaze, awaiting your response. You feel a smile tugging at your lips, and you can't help but agree. "Alright, you've got yourself a rematch."

She steps back and you furrow your eyebrows. I thought she was going to kiss me? You think to yourself.

"Y/C/N," Oh. She actually wants to redo your scene. You step closer and she smiles but quickly removes it, getting back in character. You hum, tilting your head at the shorter girl. "I wouldn't- I wouldn't be hurt if you left." You furrow your eyebrows as she looks away, her eyes resting on the ground.

You sigh, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why would I ever leave you Tara?" you ask softly. You can feel the tension between you, but you know that it's only for the scene. Or is it?

She shrugs, her gaze returning to yours. "Because my life's messy. First you get tased by my sister and then you get chased around a bodega by Ghostface." You try to make a joke, but she doesn't laugh. Instead, she turns away, her shoulders heavy. "It's like I'm cursed," she says quietly. 

You reach out and gently touch her arm. "You're not cursed," you tell her. "You just have a lot of bad luck. We can get through this together." She looks up at you and finally smiles, her expression softening. Your hand moves to her cheek, caressing it softly.

She leans into your touch and takes a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, she feels a sense of peace. The gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. You both lean toward each other slowly. You both close your eyes and your lips meet.

You feel the warmth of her lips and the warmth of her body. In that moment, all your worries and stress seem to melt away. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her closer. You can feel her heart beating in time with yours, and you know in that moment that everything will be alright. You stay in that embrace, feeling the warmth and peace of that moment, until reality slowly starts to come back.

And scene. Well Chad was supposed to walk in after, but... hey!

You begin to pull away put Jenna pulls you back into another kiss, with more intensity. You kiss her back with the same intensity, her tongue finding it's way into your mouth. She eagerly explored every inch of your mouth, her soft lips pressing hungrily against yours.

You responded eagerly, your hands exploring her body as your tongues entwined. You felt her hands roaming around your own body, a sensual exploration that left you trembling with desire. You each felt a warmth that spread throughout your bodies, the intensity of the moment pushing you further and further. You both pulled away, breathless and smiling.

Suddenly the door opens. "Hey, guys!" You and Jenna jump after at Mason's voice. He looks between the two of you, confused. Mason takes in the scene, then grins and shakes his head. "Uh, nevermind, I'll come back later." He backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Huh, he did end up walking in after. 

"Jenna Ortega, you've now been awarded with first place." Jenna jumped with joy and screamed. You shake your head at her acting, she then jumps into your arms, placing her hands on both sides of your face - pulling you into another award winning kiss.