#anyways the good news is it looks like I can still kind of draw hands after all

[peachcitt]

normally i never make resolutions because im of the opinion that you can change your life whenever you want and technically speaking any day of the year can be the start of a new year. that being said. my past year was kind of garbage.

so! i have decided to be more keen on new years resolutions, especially making ones that will hopefully make me feel better if something i can't control affects me negatively. i actually made a huge list of resolutions, more than i put here, that all kind of boil down to trying out ways to make my life more comfortable and fulfilling for myself and the people around me.

happy new year everybody i hope this year treats us all kindly :)

[gottagobuycheese]

I swear every year I split the hairs of deadlines worse and worse and I’m SURE someday it’ll kill me and I’ll maybe even learn my lesson but man how much do I have to suffer until then

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[moonstruckme]

pls hear me out 🙏🙏 vampire!james is recently turned and doesn’t feed cause he’s such a sweetheart he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

reader notices how weak he is and finds out he hasn’t been feeding and basically offers herself to him and it’s just really comforting and cute

Babe I hear you !!! I hear you soooooo clear (the voices omg, I was so excited to write this). Thank you for requesting!

cw: blood mention

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

James never had a problem with eating animals before he became a vampire. You pointed this out to him, once, but he only said it’s different. You suppose it is. The chicken nuggets he used to devour came to him cooked, fried, and with sauces, utterly unrecognizable from what they’d once been. There’s no separating the live-ness from what James has to eat now. 

You spy on him over the top of your book. He’s sitting on the other end of the loveseat with your feet in his lap, massaging your arches through your thick socks while he watches a football match on the telly. His dusky skin had paled after he was turned a few weeks back, but he looks even paler than that now. If he were still human you’d think he was anemic. It’s four in the afternoon, and your ball-of-energy boyfriend looks as tired as if he’s ready for bed. 

“Jamie,” you say, and he squeezes your heel to indicate he’s listening, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, lovely, yeah.” 

“Have you been feeding?” 

James stiffens at the term. “Mm, why do you ask?” 

It’s as close as he thinks he can get to a non-answer, and it’s an answer for you anyways. James can never stand to lie to you. It’s terribly endearing. 

You turn your foot to poke his abdomen. “I can hear your stomach growling.” 

His lips curve. He glances at you. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

“Really? How does it work?” 

“I don’t actually have a clue.” James smiles, which was your aim. He’s been far too downcast for your liking, his new condition entirely to blame. 

“Well, you’re looking pale.” 

“I’ve been pale.” 

“Paler than pale.” You set your book on the side table, moving closer to him. You sit with your feet folded under you. “Also, you haven’t been going out to feed like you used to.” 

James finally looks a bit sheepish. You smile and cup his face in your hand. Though he knows you know, James has still been a tad secretive about the vampire business around you. He sneaks out after he thinks you’re asleep. You’ll hear the front door open and shut when he leaves and then again when he comes back, the kitchen tap running as he cleans himself up. You wish he’d just use the shower. You don’t mind him walking through your bedroom with blood and dirt on him if it means he gets to feel clean when he slips back into bed with you. 

You rub your thumb over his cheek. “What’s keeping you?” 

He sighs. His face weighs a bit heavier in your palm. You think this must be progress, and you repeat your ministrations to his cheek to encourage it. 

“Everything’s hibernating,” says James, a quiet shame underlying his tone. “The…things I used to feed from are gone, and I’m not left with a lot of choices.” 

You hum. “Well, you’ve gotta eat, Jamie.” 

He hesitates, and you give him your sternest look. 

“You do. What about the deer?” 

“They’re harder to catch. And…I…I just feel bad, you know?”

You nod. Take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. Your poor sweetheart. You know James hasn’t killed anything he’s fed from, but even scaring them and potentially hurting them for the time it takes him to feed rattles him terribly. He’s too good, good and kind down to his core, but you know he’s going to have to find some way to cope other than starving himself. 

“What about people?” 

James’ eyes round behind his glasses. “Wha—no, I—”

“I wouldn’t mind you using me.” 

He seems to falter for a moment. His thick brows draw together in stages, from disbelief to confusion and back again. “Angel,” he says, “I couldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because, it’s—it would be—” 

“Or maybe we could try someone else. Someone bad, like a corrupt politician or one of those people who siphons money away from charities.” 

“No.” 

“Then we’re back to me.” You smile at him, one part teasing and two parts genuine. “James, I want to. I don’t like seeing you like this, and I really don’t think I’d mind it.” 

James looks like he’s still having trouble processing. “You don’t think you’d mind?” 

“I don’t,” you repeat patiently. “I’m sort of curious, actually. It could be fun.” 

He looks, to your surprise, like he might actually be considering it. He’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if it’d be fun, angel.” 

“That’s okay,” you promise him. “I want to do it for you. You’re hungry, yeah?” You try to make your voice serene and persuasive, your hand coasting up and down his arm. “Let me help.” 

James looks you in your eyes. You hold his gaze. After a while, the fight seems to go out of him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. 

“Oh, baby.” You kiss him on his cheek, your heart bulging. “You won’t. It’ll be fine. How do you want me? Hair up?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s good the way it is. I think, um, it might be easier if you were in my lap.” 

“Okay.” You grin, lifting your thigh over his so you’re straddling him. His hands settle on your hips. “Are you romancing me? Is this part of it?” 

James lifts the corners of his mouth, but you can see the trepidation lingering beneath his smile. You do your best to soothe it away with your hands on his shoulders. 

“I want to be gentle with you,” he says.

“I bet you say that to all your victims.” 

“Sweetheart…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You’re nervous. You kiss his nose in apology. 

“If I hurt you—if you don’t like it for any reason, I want you to squeeze my shoulder. Okay?�� 

“Okay.” You nod, trying to look certain. “Does it usually hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” James admits. “With animals, they don’t usually…move much after I’ve bitten them. I’m not sure if it stuns them or what.” 

“I’ll report back,” you say seriously. You glance down at the couch cushions. “Will it be messy? Should we go to the bathroom or something?” 

“No, I’m—I’ve gotten better at it. We should be fine here.” 

You smile at him, your pride genuine. “Sounds good.” 

James is starting to look worried again, so you kiss him. On the lips, as sweet as you can muster, and imagine all your love pouring through it. Then, you pull your hair to one side and bear your neck. 

His pupils splay out.

“Remember to squeeze my shoulder.” He sounds hoarse. One of his hands slips up your back to steady you beneath your shoulder blades. 

“I will,” you vow. 

James looks dazed, almost reverent. He wets his lips, and when he opens his mouth you see his tongue skim over pointed teeth. Some prey animal’s instinct sends a shiver of fear through you. Your blood hums with anticipation. But just before James’ teeth skim your neck, he pauses. 

“Jamie.” It’s soft, a murmur, a plea. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want with me.” 

He makes a quiet sound, like a sigh or a whine, and closes the gap. 

At first, it’s only like he’s kissing you. He’s exceedingly sweet about it, lips opening warmly over your skin, his tongue pressing over your artery as though testing the waters. He splays his palm wide over your back in silent warning before his teeth sink into you. 

There’s a sting, but you were ready for it. You keep yourself from wincing, from doing anything that would make James move away, and after a second the pain dulls. Everything does, except for the extraordinary feel of James’ mouth on you. 

“Oh.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, head lolling further to the side to give him better access. You want more, more of this, more of him. Your brain fuzzes and your heart pounds, every nerve in your body narrowing its focus to where James is sucking at your neck, lapping you up. 

You wind your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, and his palm coasts up your back comfortingly. You feel molten, spectacularly, transcendently languid, like you could press your fingertips to his shoulders and they’d melt right in. You don’t, not wanting him to misinterpret it as your signal and stop, but after a while James’ arms are the only thing keeping you from tipping sideways onto the couch, and he stops anyway. 

He finishes with a few chaste kisses, and you think giddily that you weren’t too far off about the romancing. 

“Y’okay, lovie?” he mumbles into your skin. 

You hum in reply. 

James presses one more sweet kiss to your neck, almost a thank-you. He seals the wound with his tongue. A giggle bubbles out of you, one shoulder coming up to ward him off. 

“Sorry,” you say to James’ surprised look. Your head is starting to clear. “That part tickled.” 

His grin splits his face, one part tentative and two parts relieved. “Yeah? Are you really okay?” 

“Super okay,” you promise him. You can’t help grinning. “You were right, it didn’t hurt. That was nice.”

James’ expression eases, some mix of relief and interest in his gaze. “Was it actually?” 

“Mhm. I would be your blood donor any time, really.” 

James scoffs, but he’s clearly elated. He strokes from your hip to your ribs with a big hand, trailing tender kisses up to your cheek. You’re thrilled to see how much more energy he already has. 

“I don’t know about that,” he says in between kisses. “I’d still rather not make you my victim if I can help it.” 

“I didn’t feel like a victim, if that helps.” Your words go mushy as he reaches your lips, but you keep talking, wanting to make your point. “I just mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe when you’re lacking in other options.” 

“Mm, maybe. What was it like?” 

“Like a really good kiss.” 

James backs up from you to give you a dubious look. “Better than the ones I give you normally?” 

You grin. “Maybe a little.” 

His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open, curving on one side. “Oh, yeah? Bold claims.” 

“I don’t know if you can compete with whatever vampire magic that was, Jamie.”

“My kisses are very magical. It seems like I may have to remind you how good they really are, though.” 

You shrug coyly. “If you think you can top that, you’re welcome to try. I mean, you’re really only competing with your—”

James is on you before you can finish.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 

‘’I left mine for you.’’ 

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

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[httpiastri]

18+ content, minors dni

‎‎ ‎ ‎

it's as if out of habit that one of your hands reaches down between your legs, pointer finger meeting your clit drawing out a low sigh from you. lando's too slow, you think – he's been working on undoing his belt and jeans for far too long now, so it's his own fault anyway. plus, he's been edging you on for what feels like years, fingering you and lapping you up but pulling away just before can come undone. you deserve some kind of release.

you knew you shouldn't have teased him tonight. you know how insecure he is when it comes to you flirting with his friends, especially oscar, and you know how jealous it makes him. and still, you just couldn't help it. the look on lando's face when oscar's hand grazed your thigh was almost too good to be true. but when you do something like this, you also have to take your punishment like a big girl.

do you understand it? yes. will you do it willingly without any complaints? most certainly not.

your boyfriend's eyes land on you when he has discarded his pants, and his hand immediately swoops down to grab your wrist, pulling it away from you. a dismissive 'nuh-uh' sound vibrates from the back of his throat, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. "patience, love."

you whine, the desperate look on your face making lando grin. "you're so mean to me," you mutter, shutting your eyes as if not seeing him will make time pass quicker and help you feel less needy.

but his trademark laughter meets your ears, and it doesn't make things any easier for you. it's a reminder of him, of everything you love about him, and of how much you want him – how much you need him. "oh, you think this is being mean?" he scoffs, a hand reaching for your bare side. "sweetheart, you haven't seen anything yet."

your breath hitches in your throat when his bulge presses against you, boxers already wet with his precum leaking onto them. he grinds up and down your cunt, your slick staining the fabric even further. it's too much already; you're far too sensitive to deal with this. "p-please-" you whine, buckling your hips to get more friction.

"what do you want, love?" a new, incoherent whine slips past your lips, and lando answers with a chuckle. "use your words."

"take... take them off..."

he leans back, and you instantly miss the contact. but then you hear him shuffle around a little and feel the mattress dipping. "as you wish."

you suck in a breath when you feel his touch again, the anticipation in your stomach growing as his tip drags along your folds. and when he pushes the tip right past your entrance, relief washes over you – finally, after so much teasing, you'll get what you wanted.

or, that's what you thought.

lando doesn't go any further. he pushes just a few centimeters into you before sliding right out again. then he repeats his actions yet again.

he's not being fair.

"lando," you cry out, throwing your head back and arching your chest off the mattress. he doesn't answer, too absorbed in the view before him. and to think that he's the only one who gets to see you like this: whiny, needy, helpless. he thinks he's the luckiest man in the world.

he takes the opportunity right as he's presented with it; with the way your neck is exposed like that, how could he not lean down and press his lips to it?

his kisses are sloppy and slow, traveling down your throat and along your collarbones, leaving little lovebites in their wake. you hook an arm around his neck to keep him close and you begin to grind down on him, hoping he'll give in. but he just pulls his own hips back, pulling away from you instead of meeting your thrusts.

"i know i was wrong," you finally get out. "i shouldn't have flirted with him. but don't you think i've been punished enough already?"

he laughs yet again, and the sweet sound irritates you just as much as it turns you on. "hey," he says, pressing one last kiss to the side of your neck. "i want you to look into my eyes as i thrust into you, okay?" he pauses for a second, his breath warm against your throat. "can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

it takes all of the energy in your body for you to nod, before letting your eyes flutter open slowly. your gaze meets his instantly, and it satisfies him completely. you batting your innocent eyes up at him has always worked; you always get what you want.

[kurooh]

☆ fluff, with mha spoilers about hawks’ fate (ch. 385&426)

“c’mon, stay still, keigo,” you remind him softly, adjusting the angle of his head with a hand at his chin. “i’m not gonna poke your eye out, don’t worry.”

“it looks really . . pointed,” keigo replies, eyeing the tip of the eyeliner pen cautiously. “and anyway, how’re your hands not shaking that bad?”

“practice,” you shrug, “but your talking is breaking up my concentration, y’know.”

“okay, okay,” he zips his lips and pretends to toss a key over his shoulder. you simply shake your head at keigo’s antics, bringing the tip of the pen to his eye again. this time, he manages to control his flinch enough to not mess up the wing you’re drawing.

keigo had been born with his birdlike quirk, fierce wings, which came along with many other avian characteristics. his astute, piercing golden eyes were a good example of what came along with his quirk. more interestingly, his eyes had always had dark markings around them—sharp lines and wings to further add to his birdlike appearance.

since losing his quirk to all for one on that vile day, in a battle that should’ve been won, keigo lost most of those odd little characteristics, the markings around his eyes being one of them. (of course, he never lost his penchant for fried chicken.) now, as the president of the hero public safety commission, he’s tasked with talking to all kinds of different heroes who certainly know who he used to be.

“you okay, kei? i’m gonna move onto the next eye, baby,” you whisper, so as not to startle him when he’s already gotten this relaxed. he nods, lost in thought.

not long after getting the job, keigo rushed to tell you the excellent news, and ask a simple request of you. he’d looked at you with his striking eyes, the skin around them empty and bare.

“so, y’know the marks i had around my eyes? the black birdie ones?” keigo seriously described it to you as if you’d never seen them a day in your life.

“of course, kei. why . . ?”

“so, i’ve gotta go into work and talk to people every day. i’m still hawks, the cool cool cool retired number two prohero, just without the wings and eye makeup.” his voice drifted off as he patted around behind him, momentarily expecting to be met with the softness of his downy vermillion feathers.

you nodded silently, heart squeezing sadly for him. he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat, “anyway, i’d like you to do the eyeliner for me each day. i know, i know, it’s kinda ridiculous, but it would really mean a lot to me.”

keigo looks back wistfully, turning the memory over in his head a few times while you color in the wing and prepare to add the detail to his inner corner, all from memory. as the tip of the pen strokes over the delicate skin, he loosens up more, letting you nudge his face left and right without that nervous stiffness from before.

he notices the way your brows knit in concentration, the tight grip you’ve got on the eyeliner pen, and the lightness in which you use it on him. it’s ridiculous how something so small can mean this much—warmth rises to his cheeks and colors them something rosy.

“and . . done!” you exclaim, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “kei, you’ll love this.”

“lemme see the mirror, dovey,” keigo chuckles happily, gesturing for you to step to the side. as he stares into his reflection in the vanity, he can see red feathers surrounding his shoulders and the space behind them. a squint of his eyes has them fading away, and he clears his throat shakily to focus on the makeup.

behind him, you rest your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly as though you know what he’s thinking. the black makeup around his eyes and in the inner corners looks natural, complimenting his face perfectly. you’d managed to pull something this accurate off, just from memory—keigo sniffles, rising to his feet from the chair. he envelops you in a strong hug, tucking his face into your neck carefully so as not to smear your work.

“you did such a great job, dovey,” keigo whispers into your skin, fingers squeezing you. “i can’t wait for you to do this for me every morning.”

“really?” you ask, swaying a little with him in your arms. “my makeup skills are that good?”

“of course they are!” he exclaims, “but seriously though, thank you. i felt naked without the eyeliner.”

your cheeks warm and you giggle; keigo’s heart flutters with adoration, no longer grounded. he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, but he steps back curiously, fiddling around with the eyeliner pen. you gasp accusingly—he’d swiped it from you without letting you notice.

he flashes you a silly smile, dangling the pen from his fingertips with mirth sparkling in his gold eyes. “hey, mind if i try on you? we can match!”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3

Not So Secret.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.

You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.

Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.

“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”

When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.

“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”

“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”

She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.

“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”

“Carmy will go with you!”

Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.

“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”

Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.

“You’re okay with me driving?”

“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”

You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.

“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”

He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.

He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.

A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.

From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.

Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.

You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.

He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.

“Carmy.”

“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”

You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.

“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”

He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.

“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”

He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.

“I think you know.”

“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.

He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”

You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.

“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”

“Who bet on you? And who against?”

“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”

“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”

He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.

“Kiss me, Carm.”

He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.

You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.

“You should get your eyes checked.”

He tries to process for a moment.

“Huh?”

“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”

He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.

When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.

[323cutie]

the way you look at me. | jyh

pairing ୨୧ yunho x reader

word count ୨୧ 650

genre ୨୧ suggestive mostly... making out, beginning of a relationship, sweet talking (almost dirty talking)... i need yunho bad

warnings ୨୧ suggestive/light smut Maybe if you really think about it

author's note ୨୧ guys the yunhoism has been so bad recently. He would fix me. ugh

18+ mdni!!

If there’s one word you’d use to describe Yunho, it’d be comfortable.

Spending the last few weeks getting to know him – deeper, better than before – makes you sure. He’s comfortable. Teasing and flirty and funny and kind. The epitome of charismatic, the kind of guy who draws everyone’s attention once he steps into the room. At first, in the beginning, pressed into the corner of a booth with him while your friends made their way to the dance floor, you thought it’d be awkward. Overwhelming. He was a newer addition to your friend group and you’ve never been any good at the new people thing. Yunho was – is – handsome, and attentive, and witty. You spent the entire night talking to him, ended up pressed thigh-to-thigh in the backseat of a taxi, opened your phone once you were in bed to a goodnight message from a contact you’d never texted one on one before.

It took some more comfortable nights out with your friends, a few inside jokes shared in the groupchat, and a bit of personal growth on your part (you swear your ex didn’t mess you up, but evidently…). But you figure the time doesn’t matter. You’re here now.

Pressed into Yunho’s lap on your couch, hands in his hair. His fingers tracing shapes into your back, your thighs. Memorizing his lips with your own, kissing and kissing and kissing…

It’s only your second date. But the buildup has made it seem like it’s taken so long… and he’s so familiar already. You wanted to play the semi-mysterious, aloof role, but it’s impossible with him. You’re completely transparent, out in the open, clear. Maybe there was never any avoiding it.

Yunho murmurs your name in between kisses and breaths and you hum, unwilling to part. You manage to anyways, catching your breath as he pushes hair away from your face and grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger to direct your attention at him. (You’re melting.) “How far do you want to take this?” He asks. You can’t really focus on anything but his pink, kiss-swollen lips. “We can wait. I’m ready for whatever you are, honey.”

It’s insane. Completely impossible. You finally meet his eyes and they’re full of hearts and stars, and despite the control he’s established you understand in this moment he’s yours. He’s beautiful, and you want all of it. 

“Wanna go all the way,” you say, peeling the straps of your dress off your shoulders. Yunho’s hands land on your semi-bare thighs and he sighs when he catches a glimpse of the pretty white lace set you have on. “Wanna touch you. Feel you.”

He makes a noise in his throat like he’s trying to hold himself back. It’s the last thing you want. So you grab one of his hands and put it on your waist, just under your chest, his thumb brushing against the band of your bralette. “Yunho,” you all but plead.

It seems to do the trick. You don’t think he understands yet that you’d give everything to him if he just asked, but maybe it’s okay to wait on that part. He grips you a little harder and pulls you a little closer still, and you think you sigh when his lips meet yours again; stronger, sweeter, more sure. 

He’s confident in you, his hands all over like he’s known you his entire life. You can’t fault him – you feel that way, too. He ghosts one of his hands over your arms, your collarbones, your throat. The other makes itself busy in the space between your legs, initiating a slow grind that is every bit as delicious as it is torturing. Yunho smiles against your mouth when you moan.

“I know, sweet thing,” he coos. His voice is as sweet as honey but his fingers are setting a ruthless pace. “I’ll give it all to you, ‘kay? Now be good for me.”

[cowboy1ikereid]

the archer ~ s.r.

‘Dark side, I search for your dark side, but what if I'm all right, right, right, right here?’

Summary: When you focus so much on wanting to care for Spencer that you begin to lose yourself, and he notices.

Warnings: fem!reader x post prison!spencer, references to ptsd, reader bottles up her emotions and needs a good cry, spencer confronts her and then comforts her, a tiny bit angsty but mostly comfort, established relationship, spencer is a sweetheart who just wants you to communicate with him, reassurance, pet names (honey/sweetheart), reader is the archer coded, inspired by the archer by taylor swift

Category: Angst x Comfort

Word count: 1.3k

Author's Note: This is my first ever one shot/fic that I've ever uploaded, so please be kind and I hope you enjoy!! Feel free to leave me any advice. ily <3

It had been four months. Four months since Spencer Reid had last set foot into the BAU. Four months since he had been arrested in Mexico and sent to prison. Two months since you had seen him during the visiting hours when it was your turn.

He’d looked so worn down. Completely broken, and it broke your heart. You never imagined seeing him like that. Not the nerdy, sweet and intelligent man you’d loved so dearly. He became an entirely new person, but you didn’t treat him as such. You’d been your bubbly, cheery self as always. The happy mask slipped onto your face almost too easily considering your boyfriend was in a maximum security prison, and Spencer knew that. He knew you weren’t being genuine, but he didn’t have the energy to call you out on it. When you’d returned back to your shared apartment after the visit, you’d broken down that night, sleeping in his shirt and drinking from his favourite Doctor Who mug. He hated it when anybody else used his plates, cups or cutlery, but with you, he never seemed to mind… not when he was around, anyways. It was no different to a kiss, you’d supposed.

But that was two months ago. Now, Spencer had been free from prison for a month, and he was still adjusting to normal life. He was constantly on edge, and he couldn’t take showers by himself anymore. Not unless you were there. Whenever he ate, he wolfed his food down like he was afraid somebody would take it away - like somebody was about to tell him that lunch time was over. His life had been completely flipped around when he’d gone to prison, and you’d wanted to make sure everything was the same when he returned home. You wanted his surroundings to feel familiar. No more unnecessary change. But you were starting to think it wasn’t working.

Trying to keep so happy all of the time was taking a toll on you, but you were trying to do it for Spencer. He had enough on his plate, and the last thing he needed was to deal with your struggles, right? You thought that he was too absorbed with his own issues to notice yours, which you’d decided were much less serious in comparison, but he had noticed the darker side to yourself that you tried to keep under wraps.

You were reading a book on the sofa, glasses perched on the tip of your nose, hair thrown up into a ponytail and one of Spencer’s sweaters hanging off your frame when he approached you. 

“Honey?” He said softly, sitting down next to you on the sofa and drawing your attention from your book. You looked up to him quickly, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you hummed in response. “Can I talk to you?” He continued, placing a hand on top of yours comfortingly. Just from his tone, you could tell it would be a serious conversation. One that you weren’t sure that you were prepared to have, but you accepted anyway. If he needed you, you’d be there for him. No matter what. 

“Of course. Anything.” You nodded, unintentionally releasing a deep sigh.

"Are you okay?" He said simply, his hazel eyes showing concern. You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer. He was a profiler, after all. If you lied to him, he'd be able to tell instantaneously. But you didn't want to worry him. That was the last thing he needed right now. You didn't trust your words, and so you nodded sheepishly, not seeming too sure. You used to vent to Spencer all of the time before he went to prison, but now you were aware that he had problems of his own to deal with, and to you, your own seemed far less important in comparison, so you bottled up your feelings and acted like you were fine, even if you weren't.

Truth be told, you didn't even know why you felt so down. It had just been a tough few weeks with Spencer returning and being so different, but that wasn't his fault. Life in general was catching up to you, and it was exhausting.

"Words?" He sighed, "Look, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You know that I won't make you, but.. I'm worried about you, okay? I know that you're not okay, and I'd appreciate it if you could stop acting like you were." Spencer said, with warm eyes and a soothing tone. Somehow, he always knew exactly what to say, and it always managed to surprise you even though he had an IQ of 187.

You didn't want to talk about it, not right now. You weren't ready to. But you were fully prepared to remove the mask that you'd been wearing in front of him for months. You looked to the side, and then back at him with your bottom lip trembling, not wanting to speak and instead letting your actions do the talking by shifting towards Spencer and leaning into the warmth of his body, where he opened his arms and wrapped them around you tightly, resting his head on top of yours so he could smell your sweet vanilla scented shampoo. Some things never changed. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, and he could feel the dampness of your tears that you were finally able to let loose.

The dam had finally burst, and you cried it out. You cried it out in Spencer's arms for a good half hour, and he let you, whispering sweet nothings and stroking your back comfortingly, not letting you go.

Eventually, when you were ready, you pulled away slightly but not fully, one of Spencer's arms still around you as he looked down at you, your eyes swollen, red and puffy. Your cheeks were tear-stained, but he was quick to wipe them with his thumb.

"Are you ready to tell me why you've been bottling up your emotions lately?" Spencer asked, although he had an inclination as to why.

You sniffled and nodded, wiping your runny nose with the sleeve of your sweater Spencer's sweater. It was probably gross, but he'd seen you at your worst, and this wasn't even close to it.

"I'm sorry, okay? I just.. I-.. you've had so much going on lately, and you don't need my problems on top of your own-" You said, but he quickly cut you off.

"Don't say that," He shook his head, "I will always be here for you to talk to. I don't care if you think I have too much going on, okay? That isn't your decision to make. We're in a relationship, sweetheart. I understand that you're trying to do what's best for me, and I love you for that, but what we have is mutual. That means we share things with each other. We communicate our feelings with each other. You don't keep them bottled up just because you think that what you're doing is right. I know that I've been through a lot in these past months, but I don't want us to change because of that." He stroked your cheek with his thumb, his words soft-spoken and gentle, like he always was with you.

You let out a teary chuckle. "You always see right through me."

"I can see through almost anyone, honey. You can't bottle up your emotions forever with a profiler as a boyfriend." He teased.

You smiled a little before your tone grew insecure and serious once more.

"...you're sure you don't mind?" You asked, wanting reassurance.

"Of course I don't," He kissed your forehead and pulled you in for another hug, resting his head on top of yours once more. "All of these problems we have... we can work through them together. One step at a time. It's us against the world."

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

TWST with Blood Mage reader (Part 2)

I didn't know I reached a hundred followers. Thank you so much, guys!

Warning: Gore and Slight Language

• Everyone in the room waited in anticipation for the Dark Mirror's statement in hopes of finally ending the ceremony, But the mirror did not respond. The mirror's stoic face suddenly expressed fear and a judgemental expression seconds later. The mirror then replied...

Dark Mirror: "...This soul... Does not belong in any of the dorms."

• The crowd in the room gasped in shock and loud whispers filled the room. Crowley stuttered in confusion and asked the mirror for the reason.

Dark Mirror: "...They have a powerful yet fearful magic that exceeds the average young student... Their flow of magic power fluctuates in every vein, bone, flesh... Too difficult to discern the difference between physical and magical strength..."

Crowley: "I-i do not understand, I... Is what you are trying to say is that they are... Dangerous?"

Dark Mirror: "... That may be. But they are also gifted in an art form of magic that not a single student can master..."

Crowley: "I-i see. Well... BloodMage! Yuu, was it?"

BloodMage! Yuu: "Yes?"

Crowley: "What kind of mage are you?"

BloodMage: "...I don't know myself."

Dark Mirror: "There is still room for improvement... They must learn to harness that magic... To control it... Until then, they cannot be placed in any dorm."

• With that said, the mirror's face disappeared. The students in cloaks stared at you in disbelief and stepped away from you. The way they are cautious is not new to you. They are always scared...

Crowley: "Oh! Woe is me, woe is me! What do I do? In all experience of being headmaster, I have never thought I'd encounter this kind of problem... Sh-should I send them back?"

Grim, escaping: "Fnyagh! If you're not gonna take 'em, then take me instead!"

Crowley: "What the-- Stop, raccoon! You shall not escape!"

Grim: "The Great Grim's ain't a raccoon! And I got magic much more powerful than that guy! Just watch me!"

• The little monster escaped from Crowley's lash and floated in the middle of the room. He puffed up his furry chest to inhale some air and blew enormous blue flames. All the students ran to evade his attack, some ran towards safety, others pull out of their magical pens. The fighting students struggle to contain him as Grim levitated from corner to another one.

Crowley: "SOMEBODY CATCH THAT MONSTER!"

????: "Aren't you the headmage?"

?????: "...Ugh, how troublesome..."

???: "Stop with your complaining. You know you can end this yourself. Doesn't that thing look like a nice plump snack?"

?????: "Nah, too much work."

????: "Headmaster Crowley, do not worry. You can count on me to capture it. Without hurting the poor thing, of course!"

????: "That's Azul for you. Always showing off and always reaping the plus points."

• While the so-called powerful students (you assumed) bicker with each other, you see the boy with tan skin and silver hair struggling to avoid Grim's attacks and tripped. Before Grim could breathe out another barrage of flames, you quickly stood in front of the boy and shield him from the fire... Besides, you need to use your magic anyway.

BloodMage! Yuu: "...Are you alright?"

?????: *cough*, *cough* "Y-yeah, I think so..."

BloodMage! Yuu: "Good. You need to get up."

?????: "Right. Thanks a lot for...for........ W-W-W -WHAAAaa!!"

• The boy paused mid-sentence as he took your hand to get up, only to feel... Something wet and boney? He looked up in horror to see flesh clinging to whatever's left of your right arm. Blood dripping down from your upper torso, showing your now scorched left shoulder its inner muscles and veins.

• The boy screamed in terror, drawing attention from bystanders and running students. Everything seemed to freeze in motion as they witness the gore that you displayed. The monster even stopped his ruckus to look at what he's done. Some students fainted, some ran to get the infirmary ghosts, some holding their vomit in disgust at your exposed bloody burnt skin which the ceremonial robes can no longer hide.

???: "G-GREAT SEVENS!"

???: "AAAAAHHHH!!!"

???: "CALL THE INFIRMARY GHOSTS NOW!"

???: "THEY'RE DYING!"

???: "EVERYTHINGISFINEEVERYTHINGISFINEEVERYTHINGISFINE"

???: "DON'T LOOK HERE!"

???: "I WANNA GO HOME!"

???: "CAPTURE THAT MONSTER IMMEDIATELY! HE KILLED SOMEONE!"

Grim: ".....W...What have I done..... Th-this isn't supposed to happen.... No no no........."

BloodMage! Yuu: ".......Cell Siphon."

Grim: "I-i-it was an accident--... F-FNYAGH!?"

• Now that you have access to your blood magic, you use your blood cells to cast a spell, Cell Siphon, on Grim. The monster is suddenly put in a trance as the blood in his tiny body forces him to come closer to you. Finally, your puddle of blood starts to levitate around you and formed into a makeshift cage for Grim.

BloodMage! Yuu: "Huh... That was easy."

• You were expecting Grim to fight back but the fiery feline only sit there in the cage with his ears drooped down, and his eyes not meeting yours. You approach the headmage and handed him the cage. The headmage's mouth is agape and his wide eyes kept looking at you and back to the cage, trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. You assume that everyone else is also holding the same expression.

?????: "I apologize Headmaster, but I'm afraid Malleus Draconian has forgotten to-- OH MY FUCKING SEVENS."

• The short fae entered the room, not expecting to see scorched walls, everyone standing in shock, and you looking at him like you didn't mind the melted flesh and eyeball still dangling from your face.

[bokettochild]

random LU hcs before I go to church

Legend likes to draw, and while he uses it for practical purposes (he's compiling a bestiary of his own) he also likes to sketch random crap he finds while traveling

Hyrule weaves. Not fabric, since that's a bit legthly and requires materials he can't get or keep for long, but he's very good at making baskets and the like! When the rest go to his cave, it's just full of woven items, including his attempts at weaving a freaking chair. Hyrule is going to become Pier 1

Sky writes poetry but never shares it with anyone. Groose used to laugh at it when they were kids, and so he's very self-conscious about it (and not very good anyways). He does come up with some really, really good pieces though from time to time!

Warriors couldn't read before he enlisted. He had to learn, and did learn rather quickly once he had to, but he still did very much not grow up with books. He is, however, very fond of oral tradition and somehow keeps a library's worth of knowledge in his head, since he never knew how to write it down before.

Warriors loves folk tails and will use any excuse given in order to share them with the younger ones

Wind is a very proficient mapmaker. he's terrible at drawing figures or anything, but he's very good at charting things out and putting them down on paper

Wind has a great eye for photography though! He and Wild sometimes play a game where they have to find a particular item and take a pictograph of it and then they'll have one of the others judge which one is better. Wild's candids are usually better, but Wind has a talent from framing and using the light to his advantage that outshines Wild's.

Wind likes composing little tunes with the Windwaker when he's bored. he has accidentally discovered several magical songs and their effects in this manner. Sometimes Time debates if just teaching his the Song of Storms from the get go would have been better in the long run, since it would have saved them getting soaked so much

Four has a fascination with artistic metalwork. He can't do it himself, and often times can't understand how someone thought up the idea in the first place, but it gives him great delight to see various metal pieces/tools/items forged together into the oddest art pieces

Twilight claims he's no good art of any kind, usually blaming "these darn big paws o' mine", but the secret is that he's a talented embroiderer, he just doesn't consider it "art" in the same way the rest do. Most Ordon folks add stitch-work to things so he considers it standard practice, not exceptional.

Sky is also very good at stitch-work of all kinds

When Sky and Twilight discover their shared skill-set, they absolutely use it for evil (start adding little patterns and things on their brother's stuff). Is this competitive? They're Links, you tell me!

Time claims not to be very creative, but he's actually quite good at art himself! Just drawing, as his paintings have a very childish sort of color combinations and the like, but he's surprisingly very good with shading and proportions!

All the boys play music, but Twilight's a good hand on the fiddle/violin (but only for short periods) and Legend has a surprising preference for the piano/organ. They'd make an excellent duet if they actually managed to know any of the same songs

Wild cannot and should not play instruments, Hylia help your ears if he does. He's also not that great of an artist (look for JoJo's comic of him drawing a new tapestry, it's hilarious). He likes the art the others make, but in general, the best he can do it just making designs and patterns that always seem to resemble Korok puzzles.

[rigginsstreet]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker

the upside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit.

the downside of dating steve harrington was that he was hot as shit. and also kind of a bitch.

it's billy's fault, really. he should've known better when dating a guy nicknamed king.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana, though, is that secrecy is a requirement, which billy doesn't have a problem with. the thought of publicly displaying his affections makes his skin crawl. he's got no problem doing it with the girls he pretends to be interested in because that's all it is - pretend.

but when he really means that shit... it's a harder pill to swallow.

and none of this really bodes well with steve harrington's style of dating. billy knows from his brief overlap of being in town while harrington and wheeler were still a happy item that the guy likes to be clingy, needs constant attention and validation of his affections and he wants to put it all on display for the world to see. and billy can't give that to him.

so he goes looking for it elsewhere.

the one good thing about being gay in indiana is the secrecy, but that rule doesn't extend to billy's sister or his best friend.

heather was never supportive of billy's taste in men. warned him plenty of times that steve was a dick and a leopard doesn't change its spots. but billy had waved of all concerns by saying they weren't even in a serious relationship and that heather didn't know steve like he did. heather and steve hated each other, of course she was gonna see the worst in him.

max was supportive. at first. until dustin started coming around with stories of steve and the new girls he was picking up, gloating about him like he was some golden god of women. and max would come fuming into billy's room asking if he knew about this shit, and billy would sigh and explain to her that it was just steve keeping up appearances to throw the scent off their trail.

"oh, is that why he had his tongue down tina's throat?" max accused.

and billy would have to pretend like he wasn't embarrassed. like he was in on the joke.

the thing with billy is that he doesn't let himself fall often, because when he does it's like a ten ton boulder down the side of a steep cliff. and shame isn't a color he wears well. he's gotten enough of that for a lifetime from neil, and since he's thankfully fucked off now, billy doesn't want to face it ever again.

which is maybe why he snaps at tommy's party.

he came here with steve, but now he's currently watching him dance with some chick with ten pounds of hair and double the makeup. laughing his preppy little ass off as she gyrates her dainty little lady parts all over him.

and yeah, billy can handle a bitchy attitude and some temper tantrums. and he can even wave off vague flirtations that he only hears about secondhand.

but this shit? right in front of his face? that's where he draws a line in the sand.

so he crumples the red plastic cup in his hand, not caring that beer spills out from the top, spotting the hagans' carpet, and throws it full force at the wall beside him, causing those nearby to jump, probably wondering what the hell set him off, if there's gonna be some grand billy hargrove performance.

but no. they'll just have to make due watching his ass walk out the door.

-

billy's sitting on the steps outside his house the next day, smoking a cigarette, when the beemer pulls up.

it's half expected, half not. billy braces himself for a fight anyway.

"you ditched me last night," is what steve says once he's up the sidewalk, a few feet in front of billy. he doesn't sound mad really. maybe a little offended.

billy sucks on his cigarette. blows out the smoke, his eyes never leaving steve. "got hit by a sudden wave of nausea," he says. "didn't wanna ralph in front of the party. didn't think you'd notice."

"why wouldn't i notice? we came together. i was looking all over for you."

billy shrugs, taking another pull of his smoke. "you seemed preoccupied."

it looks like steve's playing a tape in his head of the previous night, trying to pinpoint what exactly the fuck billy's talking about until it must finally click. "man, are you talking about that thing with cindy?" he laughs. like billy's fucking joshing him. "that was nothing!"

billy finishes his smoke, flicking it into the grass before standing up. "yeah, well, it something to me." he turns to walk up the steps, leaving this conversation - and steve - behind, but he's stopped with a hand on his arm.

"aw, billy, c'mon-"

"don't!" billy spins around, hands shoving steve square in the chest. watches his face go from jovial to nervous in two seconds flat.

good. the prick should be fucking nervous.

"you think you can walk around doing whatever the fuck you want like you own this town, but guess what? you don't! and you sure as shit don't own me!"

steve watches him with wide eyes, clearly out of his depth. this isn't the meeting he came here for. billy doesn't really give a shit. "billy, i-"

"i stood up for you, motherfucker," billy seethes, shoving steve again with two pointed fingers. "you know how many times heather's tried getting me to leave your ass alone? how many times max has threatened to castrate you because you can't keep it in your fucking pants?"

"i haven't slept with anyone else!"

"i don't care!" billy bellows. he's making a fucking scene. he hopes the neighbors aren't home. "i'm prime fucking real estate, baby! back in cali i had guys lining up the fucking block to get a piece of this! you think i just give this up to anybody?" steve opens his mouth, but billy cuts him off. "don't answer that! i defended you, asshole. and you make me look like a fucking idiot."

"i didn't think you cared..." steve says after a moment of stunned silence.

and that stuns billy. but he recovers quickly. "of course i fucking care. i wouldn't be doing this-" he gestures between the two of them, "-if i didn't."

"well you don't exactly express feelings very well." it's mostly teasing, billy thinks, but still that undercurrent of signature harrington bitch. "but-" he takes a step closer. "-if you're serious about this, then i am, too." another step.

"i swear to god if i have to sit through an 'i told you so' speech from maxine or heather because of some shit you pull-"

"is this your way of saying you love me?" steve grins, all cocksure and obnoxious, closing the distance until he and billy are standing toe to toe.

"don't press your luck," billy breathes in the space between them. "i'm serious, steve. i don't do thi- this is new for me, alright? and, i don't know if you've noticed, but i don't really handle rejection well."

"yeah, no shit," steve chuckles. "i'll be on my best behavior from now on. scout's honor." he holds up the three finger scout salute in mockery, but billy thinks, hopes, there's a sincerity in his eyes that he can hold him to.

billy rolls his eyes, mainly at himself for wanting to kiss the idiot right now. he almost does, too, until he remembers where they are and prying eyes could be watching.

he settles for another shove, this time to steve's shoulder, before turning back towards the house. "c'mon," he says, nodding his head towards the door. "nobody's home. you can give me a proper apology."

billy hears footsteps behind him before he even gets his whole sentence out.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hii you dont have to do this but can i request a part 3 to ethan x camgirl where they start talking and meet up. Thanks🫶

The ending kind of sucks, but it's already 1.8k and I'm tired of writing this fic so I'm posting anyway

Warnings: 18+, smut, p + v, virgin!Ethan

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

What were the odds that you and Ethan both lived in New York? You didn’t attend the same college — he was at Blackmore and you at NYU —, but it was still a damn good coincidence. It was also almost unbelievable that you never bumped into each other when you visited friends at Blackmore.  

After weeks of messaging back and forth — a few late night sexting sessions —, you decided to finally meet in person. It was nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time.  You couldn’t wait to see those sweet dimples and bambi eyes…and kiss the hell out of him. 

When Ethan got to the party, he felt dumb for asking you to meet him there because these frat houses were always jam-packed with people, but you were already on your way. It was too late to change the plans.

He stood in the room, deep brown eyes glancing around at the sea of faces, trying to spot someone who matched the beautiful girl he saw through his screen. What he hadn’t thought of was that looking for someone at a part could be like searching for a needle in a haystack. 

‘’Ethan!’’ Chad called out, walking up to his roommate with a red rub in his left hand. ‘’We’re missing a player for beer-pong, you in?’’ 

Chad must be truly desperate to ask him to be his beer-pong partner because he knew how terrible he was at the game. 

‘’Sorry, but I have to decline,’’ Ethan said. ‘’I’m waiting for someone.’’ 

A teasing smirk curled at Chad’s mouth. ‘’Someone, uh? You mean a girl.’’

Ethan rolled his eyes, fighting the blush on his face. ‘’Shut up.’’ 

The night went on, the frat party roaring with energy, and he finally spotted you in the midst of the crowd. You had on more clothes than he was used to seeing on you, but you still looked gorgeous — you always did. 

He made his way over to you, a shy smile drawing on his face as he got closer. 

You pulled Ethan into a greeting hug, feeling like you were past formal greetings. He saw you stuff your fingers in your cunt as you moaned his name, shaking his hand would feel strange. 

‘’You smell good,’’ Ethan said, your sweet perfume enveloping him, a nice change from the strong weed odor that filled the living area. 

You chuckled. ‘’Thanks.’’ You pulled back and raised your eyes. ‘’I didn’t expect you to be this tall,’’ you remarked in turn, surprised by Ethan’s height. 

Being around you felt surreal to Ethan. He had to pinch himself a few times to make sure he wasn’t in one of his wet dreams. But you were really there, sitting beside him on the couch, your knee brushing his leg every time you laughed. 

‘’You okay?’’ you asked, noticing Ethan shifting in his seat. 

‘’All is good,’’ he lied, his face forcing a smile. 

‘’You sure? We can go and get some air if you want.’’ 

‘’I don’t need air, it’s just— I don’t want you to think I wanted us to meet so I could use you for sex, but my dick has been rock hard since that hug and it’s getting really uncomfortable.’’

You looked down to see the tent in his pants and laughed softly. ‘’Why didn’t you say so?’’

‘’Because it’s embarrassing...’’ he mumbled, wishing the couch would swallow him.

Leaning closer, you said quietly. ‘’Would it be less embarrassing if I said I’ve been dying to leave and have you to myself?’’ 

No other words were spoken. Ethan just stood and you grabbed his arm as he guided you through the bodies of partygoers. He kept his head down and smiled at the ground, the feeling of your hand curling around his bicep sending butterflies in his stomach. If a simple touch ignited this kind of reaction from him, what would happen when your hands will be touching lower on his body?

The walk to Ethan’s dorm felt like a thousand miles away. The chilly night air nipped at your bare legs as you strolled through the dimly lit campus pathways, holding on to his arm the whole way. You couldn't wait to be inside and finally kiss him.

You barely made it inside the building lobby that you had pulled Ethan down by the front of his polo shirt and captured his lips with your own. He gasped against your mouth in surprise, not expecting that kiss, but quickly recovered and kissed back until he was out of breath. 

Grabbing his hand again, you hurriedly took the stairs to the third floor — as instructed —, and watched with amusement Ethan unlocking and shutting the door with a clumsy eagerness. 

‘’Come here, pretty boy,’’ you said, pulling Ethan down and kissing him again, gentle but deep. 

You could kiss him all night and never get tired, but the elephant in the room was nudging at your thigh and you just had to give it some attention. Without disconnecting the kiss, your hand wandered south down Ethan’s body, pausing right over the lump in his jeans. He let out a strangled moan at the contact, and it made you smile into the kiss.

‘’Should we take care of that?’’ you asked, dragging your mouth to his jaw while you rubbed him over his jeans,  touching him where nobody's ever touched him before, where he'd only dreamed of you touching him. 

Ethan’s head tilted back and you only saw it as an opportunity to kiss a line down the side of the neck, adding to the new sensations. You kept on stroking him slow and long until he couldn’t take it anymore, pleading once again. 

He peeled off his jacket, leaving it in a lump on the floor while you did the same with your sweater, leaving you in your lacy bra. You had picked it meticulously, hoping Ethan would be the one to take it off you tonight. 

‘’Fuck, you're gorgeous,’’ he murmured to himself, watching you closely.

You pulled at his polo shirt, and when he raised his arms to discard it, you looked at him appreciatively. He was hiding so many good things underneath those preppy clothes. You ran your hands along his chest, the smooth muscles that spread across his stomach and his chest and his arms. 

‘’You’re not bad either,’’ you replied, triggering a light blush on his cheeks. 

The rest of your clothes came off in a disordered fashion, trying to get naked as fast as possible. Once the goal was reached and everything was on the floor on the chair, you glanced down and smirked, admiring what you had only ever seen through a screen. Big enough to make you feel full, and pink and leaking at the tip.

‘’Looks even better in person than on camera.’’ You wanted to kiss it, but instead wrapped your fist around his cock, slowly going in up and down motions. Moans and pleas fell from his plush lips, causing more pre-cum to leak from the tip. ‘’Please what, baby?’’ you asked, gently caressing the line of his happy trail with your other hand. ‘’Just tell me what you want.’’

‘’I want you.’’

You leaned in to kiss him again, and this time the kiss was hungry as you guided him back to what you assumed was his bed — the letterman jacket on the other bed gave it away. You moved back and brought Ethan down with you as you lied on the typical college boy dark blue sheets. Some curls were falling in his face, reminding you of the shy boy you met months ago during a private session. 

You tucked his hair behind his ear, smiling softly at him. ‘’How do you want me?’’ 

On top. 

Connecting your lips for a quick kiss, you then grabbed a condom — which he had bought for the occasion — and switched positions so you were straddling him. Pushing up on your knees, you gripped the base of his cock and lined him up with your entrance. You could tell that Ethan was nervous, his breathing pattern faster than a few minutes ago. 

‘’It's okay. I got you.’’

You pressed gently, the tip barely sliding in, making Ethan grab the sheets and throw his head back from the overwhelming rush of new sensations. Slowly, you sank down onto him, inch by inch until he was all the way inside of you, and sighed. He felt so much better than you imagined. 

Ethan’s grip on the sheets tightened as a long moan drew from his mouth. ‘’Fuck, that feels good,’’ he whispered, his eyes still shut, scared that if he open them and see you sitting on his cock he’ll burst.

Taking a small pause to adjust, you tilted his face down to yours and leaned down, capturing his lips with your own as your breasts pressed against his chest. His eyes snapped open, only to close again and release the sheets to run his hands everywhere he could reach on your body. 

Once it was comfortable enough, you started moving your hips the same way you often did in your videos. Except this time, it wasn’t a dildo. 

Ethan groaned, squeezing your thigh and moving his other hand to your chest as you moved on top of him. He cupped your breast, and then tentatively squeezed your nipple. It sent a bolt of need through your core, settling right between your legs.

‘’Do that again, baby,’’ you encouraged, and moved your hips again, a long languid movement. ‘’You can be rougher.’’ You gasped, pressing your fingers over his, pinching and twisting your nipple the way you liked. It hurt in the best way. 

You continued moving your hips as Ethan played with your body, his mouth soon replacing his hands on your nipple, causing more mewls to ripple through. 

It wasn't long until Ethan began getting sloppy and whiny, silently letting you know he was close. Virgin men didn't last long — you knew —, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t use your own hand to speed your orgasm instead of making Ethan feel bad for finishing fast. 

You rubbed at your clit until you started to feel that coil tightening in your belly, getting close to the edge and, by some miracle, successfully reached your high closely together, echoes of your pleasure mixing as you clenched around Ethan’s spurting cock and milked him. 

When you were finished, you rolled off him, falling back on the mattress. You should get up and go pee, but Ethan curled up next to you after disposing of the condom, wrapping an arm around your middle and you didn't want to get up yet. He pressed his face against your soft breasts, a beaming smile on his lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. 

‘’I’m really happy I spent my dad’s money on that private session.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble  @luiise  @planetkt  @vampyrgoff  @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover  @Danniackerman  @angelxxrose  @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222

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[yuri-is-online]

Can I request a kind of song fic? You know the song national anthem? The part where it says "red, white, blue is in the sky. Summers in the air, and baby heavens in your eyes". Can I have that with the first 3 dorms? Love your writing!

The familiar tone of cicadas and flushing greens bring about a stereotypical image of summer, and with it the reality of nearly a full year away from your world. No one has said it out loud yet, but it really does look like Twisted Wonderland is going to be your forever home, so it really is time you start thinking about what you want your future to look like...

And someone really seems to want a staring role in it.

I don't listen to Lana at all so I spent a brief moment wondering why someone was requesting I do a song fic based on the American National Anthem. Anyway I listened to the song a few times and came up with an idea, and then another, and another and I am so sorry this took forever. I hope you enjoy. notes: they/them used for Yuu, all scenarios are meant to take place over summer break, and contain a lot of summer themes. Going to the club and making out with Cater, possessive Leona, and mentioned vehicular manslaughter with Floyd. Other than that pretty tame. For other fic please look to my masterlist here.

Heartslabyul

Riddle

Riddle doesn’t know much about happiness now that he thinks about it.

He assumes he was happy when he played with Trey and Chenya all those years ago, and his mother had always been so insistent that true happiness came from doing well in his school work, and Riddle can say he gets something like happiness from his grades.  But then if that is “happiness” then what is this?  It doesn’t feel like it deserves quite the same word as what he feels like when he gets a good grade, and he certainly doesn’t get the same feeling of “happiness” from Trey as he does from you.  There’s a sting of pain to it that compels him to smile, to stay as close to you as possible when you speak.  

“I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

That was where the pain had to have come from, but you’re here with him now and he knows you won’t be going back to that great somewhere you had come from and being next to you still hurts.

“Here.”  You tap your metal sparkler ignites his and you smile, wide and free in an attempt to encourage him to enjoy himself.  You must have noticed how tense he is, something that doesn’t change as he tries to force his focus on the sparkler.  It’s simple, short, putting out a bunch of yellow sparks that he swears it shouldn’t have the strength to.  It’s a lot like him, he supposes, he holds it out and up further and watches it spark down, the burnt edges sagging under their own weight as it rages against the night sky and tries to rival the stars.  “Are you going to draw anything?”

“Huh?”  He’s supposed to be having fun.  Are you disappointed in him?  No, you seem to have expected this, you're reaching for new sparklers and fumbling looking for something.

“If you twirl the sparkler through the air it’ll leave light behind.  It looks like drawing shapes.”  You take the risk of nodding towards Ace and Deuce, who he thinks are trying to draw their card suits from how Ace is pointing and Deuce’s face and laughing at the brief flicker of a spade he thinks he sees.  “It won’t stay for long but it’s still fun.”  A lighter, he recognizes the click before he turns back around to you and sees you fumbling with it.  Your hands must be cold, he can’t be happy with that but the strange feeling surges and compels him forward with the gentlest of fires he’s ever conjured.

“You’re the expert, so I’ll trust your advice.”  You jump slightly with the sparks and laughter, saying something he doesn’t hear as he takes his sparkler and joins you in drawing little hearts in the air.  It has to be a silly thing he’s said for you to laugh so much, but he means it so.  If he lets you point out the fun things, he thinks as you toss your second set of spent sparklers into the bucket of water and hold out the next for him to light, he can busy himself with the practical.  And maybe together you can both learn to enjoy that thing called happiness you both don’t know much about.

Trey

“Don’t you think you are being unfair?”  The words come out even though it has got to be pointless to say it; Trey has to know why else would his smile be so “strained,” why else would he be so determined to keep from making eye contact?  And furthermore he has to know you know, that’s why he is standing so close to you despite this new no eye contact rule.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  He continues looping icing in detailed patterns across a particularly complicated cake that you have to stop and stare at in wonder, could you ever get that good?  Trey must have a great deal of patience to do such technical work, shame he has also decided to use that skill to test yours.  You huff and look at your own work, Trey has to know you’ve been looking at him, people can feel the weight of other’s eyes right?  Let’s see how he functions without your attention.

Fine, you assume he’ll be fine, he’s always so unbothered by anything you do.  Cater has always insisted otherwise, but you swear he’s uncaring too. 

“Maybe you should intern at a cake shop.”  You do your best to mimic his voice and he chokes on his laugh, it takes a great deal of strength and perhaps patience that rivals Trey’s own to not turn and look.  His laugh is so genuine you could mistake it for joy.  “That’s what you said.”

“I did, didn't I?  Good advice that.”  His voice is a bit closer now, you try not to think about how that’s possible, you were already working so close to one another how could he get even closer without touching you?  Why do you want him to touch you… 

“Why didn’t you just invite me here?”  That has got to sound more pathetic than it does biting, it certainly feels that way.  “I applied to three separate places, and before I even completed the first line on your little questionnaire I got a call back from them congratulating me on getting hired here.”  Trey doesn’t so much as flinch, you see him in the corner of your eye, pretending to adjust his glasses and inspect your work.

“Maybe I wanted some plausible deniability.”  He’s so sincere you finally look at him and only sort of regret it when you see his triumphant smile.  “But someone got a bit too excited about a friend from NRC finally visiting and chased everyone else off.”  You snort.

“I can’t imagine Cater’s never wanted to come here, what with how he talked it up so much.”

“He has mentioned it once or twice.”  Trey adjusts a strawberry on a cupcake next to you, out of nerves more than need as he wonders over how to word what he wants to stay next.  “But I am glad you decided to come.  I was worried you would say no.”  You snort and Trey laughs slightly as he watches you squirm in indignance and tries not to focus on your lower lip’s quiver.

“Why on earth would I say no?  I’ve been curious about this place since forever.”  There’s flour on your apron he wants to smear on your face as an excuse to touch you and ignore the aching annoyance in his chest.  I don’t want you to be curious about the shop, everyone is.  I want you to be curious about me.

“Well there are more interesting ways to spend your summer than next to an oven.”  He says it nonchalantly as his thumb lingers on your nose just a bit longer than it should and your annoyance fades in place of something he doesn’t know but wants to oh so badly.

“Well maybe I just didn’t have anything better to do.”  He loves how pretend annoyed you get with him, the way your nose twitches and your eyes dart to look anywhere but him.  “And maybe I’ll not have anything better to do this winter or next summer either.”  He loves the security he has to indulge in those little things, even if you can’t ever go back to your old home.

“Oh?  That’s a real shame.”  He finally moves his thumb down your cheek and curls his fingers just under your chin to force you to look at him, to beg you to see a new possibility in his eyes.  “I can fix that.”

Cater

Cater inviting you places wasn’t a new thing, but you had really expected it to become an old one once he hit his fourth year and didn’t constantly see you irl and have to pretend he was as invested in your friendship as you were.  Was that a cruel thing to think?  Sure.  Did you hate yourself for it?  Absolutely.  Was it partially a product of your overwhelming fear of the consequences of opening up to someone with abandonment issues when you were all but guaranteed to permanently abandon him in a way that was so much worse than any of his previous friends?

Well now you were just being way too serious for the type of trip you were currently on.  You’ve never seen so many flashing lights outside of a nightmare but Cater certainly looks like he’s having the time of his life on the dance floor with Lilia and Kalim while you sit next to Trey being “boring” in the corner.  Not that you shouldn’t be at the club, you've just got a lot on your mind and no place to think it. 

“You don’t have to sit here with me if you want to.”  You apologize and Trey laughs, surprisingly not at all awkward.

“I’d make a total fool of myself, and I don’t want to end up on magicam being called someone’s dad.  Again.”  He swirls his drink in his hand and you look down at yours; you’re at a beach if you didn’t remember because of the stray sand in your shoes you would know by the little umbrella in your cup and the cheekily unbuttoned hawaiian shirt that displays the beads around Cater’s neck as he makes sure to fill your entire vision and steal your breath.

“Yuuuuu, c’mon dance with me.”  He grabs both your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and pulling out to the floor with the force of his voice as much as his grip.  “Can’t let you stay in the corner allll night, I’d be a bad senior!”  You think you hear Kalim and Lilia say something to Trey, but Cater’s so close to you, you can’t really hear anything, not even the music or the last call from the bar that sends you and your friends into the street stumbling back towards the hotel Kalim had insisted on booking.  “They’re certainly having fun.”  Cater hasn’t  let go of your hand, thumb circling your palm before finally resting nearby your pulse point.  “Sort of a shame to call it quits now.”  So he says but you can see the night’s been getting to him.  

“If you need a break I don’t think anyone will blame you.”  You squeeze his hand and a little of Cay Cay’s smile returns to Cater’s face as he squeezes back.  “Do you want me to let you sleep when we get back to the rooms?”  

He doesn’t respond immediately.  Those serious thoughts from before bring you back to reality and you finally see how far behind you’ve lagged from the rest of your group.  

“I want to hear your voice.”  The dull fear of abandonment snakes through you both and coaxes out Cater’s words he’d probably wouldn’t have ever said if you weren’t staying and he was completely sober.  It hitches in your breath as he looks at you, Cater’s real unguarded smile on his face as he lets the boardwalk lights shade him in their perfectly imperfect artificial shine.  “I want to hear you say we’re besties out loud again, I want it to be real.  Because I’m mad I screwed things up before thinking you’d be gone when you’re so desperately real.”  You wave the others on ahead, they shake their heads with knowing looks as you stop and lean into Cater, pressing your foreheads together and staring deep into each other’s eyes searching for something neither wants to admit was always there.  “You don’t deserve to be stuck here.”

“You don’t deserve to be stuck in your own head.”  He flinches and you reach to touch his cheek, could you kiss him here?  Would that be moving too fast?  “I’ll be just fine, Cater.”  

“But I want to keep you stuck here with me.”  He mumbles, and makes the move to kiss for you.  Your arms move around his neck and your hands thread through his hair, pulling him close as he never dared to be.

You’ve got all sorts of things you want to say out loud, just for him to hear.

Ace

“It’s so hot.”  Whines Grim, his bright smirk completely betraying his intent as you try not to sigh too loudly as you look over the prices at this ice cream stand Ace had convinced you to check out.  “I reeeeeally wish we had an ice cream sundae right now, don’t you hench human?”  

“You already had half a watermelon earlier,” you mutter “if I get you a whole sundae you might get sick.”  He won’t.  Grim almost never gets sick.  You’ve seen him eat and rank literal dirt.  But still you already are going to be carrying back the groceries Ace’s mom asked for and didn’t need something difficult to carry.  Thankfully there always seems to be something for cats in the Queendom of Roses because the seller helpfully pipes up that he has a tuna flavored push pop that Grim immediately begs for instead.

You consider getting the same one for Ace, but his childish joy when you pass him a cherry popsicle before opening your own is almost worth the missed joke.  “Aww nice, about time you paid me back for everything I do for you.”  Almost.  You roll your eyes and take your share of the grocery bags, half heartedly fighting for Ace to let you take more of them.  He won’t let you, nodding towards Grim in way of an excuse as if the little monster ever lets you take his paw.  He’s been doing a lot of things like that while you’ve been staying with his family, it’s actually been sort of nice.  There has been a sort of domestic give and take between you two for a long time now that you think about it, probably since the first time he tried to sneak his way into your bed, that has translated into something like a routine.  His family has been nice enough not to say anything about it but you know they see it too.  “Hey you have work tomorrow right?”

“Yeah.”  You try to blink your way back to a more normal state of mind.  “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nah I’ll just text you if I think of something when I’m on my way to pick you up.”  Ace says it so nonchalantly you have to wonder what old Ace would say.  The one who made fun of you for not having magic and ditched a girlfriend without saying anything for being boring, or did you never actually know that guy and got lucky enough to meet the ace of hearts instead?  

“Ya don’t always gotta walk them.”  Grim snorts, unimpressed as always in a way that never fails to make you smile.  “Yuu isn’t gonna disappear!  Headmage said they were here to stay.”  Ace rolls his eyes and you laugh.  For some reason he never fails to take bait from Grim.

“That’s not what it’s about, dummy, walking alone is dangerous.”

“Yeah Grim,” you teasingly scratch his little head “besides the only one who isn’t going to be around forever is Ace.”  

“Do you really think I won’t be around forever?”  Ace actually looks offended, sounds it too and you find yourself indignant.

“You’ve got to have a life eventually.”  You shrug.  “Deuce and me, school, that doesn’t last forever.”   “You can be a part of that life too you know?!”  It’s not the closest to a confession you’ve ever gotten from Ace, but it’s certainly the loudest.  “Look, I get you’ve got a lot going on in your mind right now, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  I’ll sit outside that door waiting for you to be ready, and I’ll still be there even if that day never comes.  If you’re really in trouble I’ll bust down that door, just because you’re forced to be here doesn’t mean you’re alone.”  You wait.  You wait for the back track, the joke, the step back into the comfort of the friend zone but it doesn’t come.  He looks you in your eyes and keeps walking forward towards home.  “You have me, you know?”  You’ve always had me.

Deuce

Sometimes you forget how abnormal Deuce is.  Probably because it’s a normal sort of abnormality, if any such thing exists, that doesn’t involve magic or monsters and you would have been able to wrap your mind around no matter what time and place you had met in.  But that doesn’t mean Deuce is not capable of doing or saying things that surprise you.

“Let’s make a pillow fort.”  He says, the familiarity of his joy the only thing that’s keeping you from screaming about his words.  “I’ve never made one before, it’ll be fun!”

“Oh I refuse to believe that.”  You laugh but refuse to protest, Ace isn’t here to bring down the mood and there’s no way Grim would deny something that he thinks is guaranteed to involve popcorn from the few times you’ve camped out in the Ramshackle Lounge and watched TV together.  And to be fair that’s also your plan for tonight, Deuce has a bunch of movies he’s been determined to show you since you agreed to stay over for the Summer.

“Well maybe back when I was a kid with my mom.”  He certainly has enough blankets for it, but then what self respecting house doesn’t have a few extras?  “I’ve never had a friend stay over before…”  If you were in a different mood, if his flushed face wasn’t so cute, you might tease about how you had been here before with Epel, Ortho, and Silver but there’s a tone to the way he says friend.  It’s the way he makes sure to lie as close to you as possible in your little fort and watches you as much as the movie that tells you that he feels, even if he doesn’t think, that this is somehow different.  “Have you?”  He asks it late, as the credits roll on your third or fourth movie and Grim snores.  “I thought maybe we could do something normal for once, but I forgot to ask.”  You laugh and roll your head onto his shoulder and allow yourself to really think about things.

“Thank you.”  It’s the first thought you have, surprising you both.  But should it?  There’s something warm and comforting about being with Deuce.  Natural even.  “I can’t say I’m happy but I feel closer to home than I have in a while.”  Deuce squeezes your hand and rests his head on top of yours.

“I’m glad.  I- know I shouldn’t be but I am sort of happy you’re still here.”  He wants to say he’s happy you are staying, but he knows he can’t.  It would be too cruel and Deuce knows he can’t really understand the depth of what you’ve lost or make up for it with sleep overs or movie nights.  But he does so want to try.  “I promise I’ll do my best to make your time here worth it, I meant what I said during Starsending.  I want you to be there when I get my badge, I want to make you proud of me too.”  

“I’d say I’ll be the loudest in the room but I’ve met your mom.”  You sleepily quip and he laughs.  “And I’m already proud of you, Deucey.”  His half open mouth freezes, his thanks stuck in the softness of your voice as he wills himself to sleep to sear the sound into his brain.

“Sweet dreams, Yuu.”  He’ll make this a summer worth having, he swears it.

Savanaclaw

Leona

“You cannot have driven me out here just to nap.”  Leona’s head is heavy and warm in your lap in stark contrast to the cool greenery that shades you from the rest of the palace.

“Can’t I?”  He opens his eyes to look up at you with a gleam that’s just so smug it makes your heart flutter in what you have to work very hard to convince yourself is annoyance.  “Because I could have sworn I just did.”

You aren’t sure why Leona invited you.  That one time you had visited the Savannah before had been because Grim demanded, not because he wanted you there.  Or at least that’s what you had thought but this time you had received an invitation, and though it had been worded more like a demand (must be a cat thing) it had been surprisingly thoughtful in its accommodations.  Grim certainly had been happy enough to accept on your behalf even before Crowley had agreed to let you go.

“I’m just surprised you would want anyone with you to nap at all.”  You had been afraid to touch him when you saw him, but you swear he wants you to play with his hair with how he purposely spreads it out, like he’s displaying for you.  “I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

“Maybe I would have been.”  His bluntness is only dulled by its predictability, there’s something almost relieving about it if you’re honest.  Everyone has been so insistent on saying they are happy you have stayed and just as eager to avoid talking about the specifics that worry you.  Not Leona, he keeps his green eyes focused on you, striking right at the heart of things.  “But you aren’t half as annoying as everyone else, even if you could stand to fight for yourself a bit more.  Why do you think I invited you here anyway?”

“...so your family wouldn’t bother you about your duties?”  He laughs, loud and free and so forceful he shakes your entire body with its pride.

“Well you’re half right.”  He reaches up and pulls you down, rolling to the side so you’re lying in the bit of ground he’s warmed and caged in the safety of his arms with nowhere to run from the obvious truth.  “You’re here because I want you to be.”  The way he says it, the touch of his forehead against yours and the lull of his heartbeat, it’s like he’s daring you to think of your entire existence in Twisted Wonderland in terms of him and him alone.  And he knows it, he has to he’s too smart to word his sayings in a way that would misconstrue his meaning.  “What’s that shit you herbivores are always yammering on about?  ‘Finding your family?’  Well I found you so you’re going to stay right?”

“Are you offering me citizenship, your majesty?”  Because you have to make this a bit of a joke otherwise you’ll let him in on just how much power over you he really has.

“I’m offering you a home.”  He’s surprisingly serious.  “It’s dark, a bit shit, but you already like those sorts of places if your dorm is anything to go by.  And you’re so annoyingly sunny I’m sure it’ll perk right up when you settle yourself in.”  Just like he does as you move to hide your face in his chest, your breaths matching in the safe lull of slumber under the jungle’s starry sky.

Ruggie

“Man, I love Summer!  People are just so much freer with their cash, y’know shishishishi.”  Ruggie cackles as he settles himself into a booth, still somehow full of energy despite the day you’ve both had while you slump across from him.  “Peak tourism season means loads of opportunities for work!”

“I know Leona said this place was popular but I guess I didn’t realize just how much.”  Ruggie had been so proud to show you this barbeque place after your first night working at the resort with him, and you had been more than happy to know it on nights like this when you had worked overtime meeting some really pushy customers' needs for what felt like way too little money.  Even though this gig paid pretty well some people just weren’t worth shit, something Ruggie knows all too well.

“Yeah, nothing on Sage’s Island ever gets this busy.  You holding up ok?”  Ruggie’s always like this while he’s on the job, you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean too much by it, that he’s just checking up on you from a place of mutual understanding but it still feels good.  Good enough that the smile you manage is genuine.

“Surprisingly, yeah.”  You could really do with some more sleep than you are going to get when you return to Grim tonight, but then you always could.  “What about you?  You always look twice as busy as me and that’s saying something.”

“Aww, you worried about little old me?  Kiiinda weird Yuu!  I’m the senior here, I'm more used to this.”  He’s the same smug Ruggie, brimming with enough confidence and infectious determination that perks you up just a bit.  Or maybe it’s the fact your food’s come and you are determined to snatch up the utensils and cook before Ruggie can and use it as an excuse to keep all the best cuts for himself.  He doesn’t jump to fight you tonight though, instead he looks contemplative.  “Hey, are you sure you’re ok with how you spent your Summer?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”  The meat sizzles on the grill, dampening the seriousness of the conversation with its pops, and Ruggie tries to focus on it but it’s clear he has been thinking about this for a while.

“Well, my invitation was kinda late.  I was really surprised you didn’t want to spend your Summer hanging out with your friends.”  You don’t say anything immediately, wondering how best to respond to someone who, admittedly, has never really admitted to being your friend despite you both regularly flirting with that and a much deeper concept.  

“I mean I do.”  It’s best to be honest with him, he won’t accept anything else even if it hurts to see you refuse to look at him as you flip the meat to cook its other side and continue thinking out loud.  “But I’m going to be stuck here forever, I want to get a head start on some security.  I can’t live in Ramshackle forever.  And besides…”  It’s best to be honest with him, you reassure yourself as you take a deep breath and give him the cut you know he’ll like best and stare deep into his eyes.  “I was happy to hear from you and get a chance to see you again sooner.”  His ears twitch and his eyes widen, words fumble out of his mouth without any real meaning as you both silently agree to table the conversation and eat your meal.  The best meals aren’t rushed, and the best connections allow themselves the time they need to grow.  You know you’ll both be ok, you promise yourself you will make sure of it.

Jack

“Jack, what is this thing again?”  You ask slightly exasperated, not with the product or with him, just yourself for still not remembering the types of snack foods available in a basic convenience store after a whole school year in this world.  For once, Jack doesn’t complain or pretend he doesn’t want to help, just dutifully walks over and looks at the package before putting it back on the shelf.

“It’s a type of chip, you liked this flavor better.”  He adds it to his basket and you sigh, mutter an apology Jack doesn’t acknowledge verbally, instead touching your thigh gently with his tail.  “Is there anything else you want to bring back to Sage’s Island with you?  If you don’t remember until you get back…”  I won’t send it to you.  That’s what he wants to say, but he cuts himself off before he can.  He can see your mind auto filling it in as you think, and he curses himself silently.  What a fool he’d been, “I won’t need to do that I’ll just know” he hadn’t counted on lying to himself about how he felt.  His mother had, she’d even laughed about it when he had tried to stumble around asking to let you visit.

“A soulmate is something you work for, Jack.  It’s not given to you, you have to earn it.”

Jack likes to think he works hard.  His grades are good, he’s in great shape, his unique magic is truly a gift and he isn’t taking it for granted but you.  You’ve got two separate drinks held up to the light, neither of them are exclusive to the Shaftlands.  You could get them at Sam’s any time but you are squinting as if you have truly never seen them before and he guesses that’s because it’s true.  Why is it so hard to just speak to you?  Is it because you're human?

“If you want something limited, those are over here.”  He takes what you were looking at anyway.  “My sister really likes this one.”  I think you will too, it’s a lot like what you get from the vending machines.  You nod and add it to the basket, turning towards the canned goods and insisting on getting some “fancy” tuna for Grim with a smile that stirs his soul and reassures him of what Jack knows is true even if he can’t speak about it.

“You think he’d notice even if it was different?”  You are shaking your head as you look at the can, making jokes but not bothering to pretend you don’t care.  It’s maddening, how bright you shine for those you care about and how little he can do to give that shine back to you.

“You can’t tell him how much it costs, otherwise he will insist it is.”  That works, you laugh and his tail goes crazy, unable to hide how important your laughter is to him.  I love you.  That’s what he wants to say.  “You should come back next summer.”  But he doesn’t, he rubs his neck and looks at the shelves and thinks it so loud he swears his heart is halfway out of his chest.  There’s a soft look in your eyes that he wants to think says you hear it, but he knows that he can’t take it as an excuse.  Next summer I’ll say it.  I’ll say it every day that you’re here, I promise.  Your smile is everything he needs.

“I look forward to it.”

Octavinelle

Azul

There’s a picture on your phone you don’t think you were meant to see, but magicam lets you delete photos and Azul hasn’t done that yet.  It’s been an hour, the little opened notification sits there taunting you both but still he doesn’t do anything.  Not send a follow up message or delete the photo or anything and FINALLY you’ve had enough so you do something beyond reckless.

You call him.  And he answers.

“Prefect!  Always a pleasure to hear from you.”  Azul sounds so infuriatingly put together you want to die.  You bet he’s sat in some sort of fancy office, leaning back with a smug look on his face while you hug a pillow close to your chest, still in your pajamas seething with nerves over his little mistake.  “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Did you mean to send me a picture of your menu for orientation?”  You cringe at how upset you sound, because you really aren’t exactly.  It’s silly to hope Azul would talk to you over the summer at all, and if he did of course it would be about business.  That’s what talking with Azul is always about.  “Oh and hello I guess.”  But it still pays to be polite if for no other reason than the melodic laughter that you get to hear at what you're sure Azul sees as a cute mistake.

“I would have called you if I hadn’t.”  He sounds like he is reassuring a child, but still pauses to keep you off your game before he continues.  “I was expecting you to give your opinions on it, you have to have some don’t you?”  

“Not for free.”  You snort and he laughs again, slightly more awkwardly this time and you wish you could say that you didn’t feel bad, that you were as cold and calculated as the sea but neither of you are really.  It isn’t wrong to want something is it?  Azul is pro-greed, so surely he would understand you teasing him a bit to keep him in your life for just a bit longer.  “Do you need my opinion for something?”

“Just to hear it.”  Azul has a way of being so damnably dismissive about things it drives you insane.  Just once you want to hear him say- “Besides, it’s been a while since we talked and I thought it would be a good ice breaker.”  You choke on your own thoughts and almost break your jaw trying to keep him from hearing.  “You’ll be there I trust?”

“Orientation?”  Your throat hurts and it shows in your voice, that stupid octopus has got to be so smug right now it would be so insufferable to look at.  You definitely aren’t thinking about it and it definitely isn’t making your struggle to breathe worse.  “Or the Lounge?  Because it’s not like I’ll have anything to do really if you want help or something… I am sort of curious about those house themed drinks, that's a stupid good idea for an orientation by the way.”

“I knew you’d get it!”  Azul sounds so excited it’s almost pure.  “You’ll have to come by beforehand so I can show you how to make them, it took so much time to get the correct flavor pallet for the Savanaclaw and Ignihyde ones you have no idea-”  

And just like that he has you, he has you!  You’re listening and talking to him through all of his explanations, probably sitting somewhere under a tree well put together with Grim on your lap and… smiling he hopes?  While he is curled into a small ball in his room trying to pretend he knew this would work out exactly like he wanted the whole time.

You’ll be there.  When the bell strikes and the mirror opens its gaze on NRC once again he won’t have to be nostalgic for flames and mayhem because you will be there.  And this time he swears he’ll catch you for good.

Jade

It’s the last day of school and yet you have nothing to pack and nothing to do.  The usual excitement that accompanies the final freedom of summer is sort of lost in that void of being unable to go home, and as ashamed as you are to admit it you think you’ll go crazy if you don’t have anywhere to go next summer.  You already felt so overwhelmingly lonely when you first got the news, and you have heard these things get better but it doesn’t feel like it will.  Even the knock at your door fills you with dread, you don’t want to ruin Ace and Deuce’s excitement with your bad mood.  But that’s not what you see when you open your door.

“Hello prefect.”  Jade Leech is tall, so tall he fills up the frame with his stiff figure that you always have noticed for how proper it is but today he seems even more rigid than usual.  Guarded is the word you would use if you could ever picture him being afraid of you.  “May I come in?”  You nod and shut the door behind you both, your idle curiosity drowning out the danger signs as neither of you move or speak.  Jade’s hands stay folded in front of him, yours stay at your sides as you wait.  Wait wait wait for what you don’t know, hadn’t the twins told you they visited their parents over this break?  His mother sounded lovely, why would he want to keep her waiting?  “I was wondering…”  He closes his eyes and brings his hand up to his chin as if he is deep in thought but it reads more like it is taking a lot out of him to say what he wants to “Would you be interested in climbing Mount Moln with me sometime?”  Your breath catches in your throat, the memories of your trip to Harveston still somewhat fresh and inviting in their domesticity.  You hadn’t thought he would remember that little conversation you’d had, but he does.  His wide smile when he opens his eyes to see your fluster screams it’s haunted his dreams as much as it has yours.  “I do seem to recall you expressed a desire to climb it, and since you will be staying with us for the foreseeable future I thought I would take my chance on the proposal.”  Did he have to word it like that?  It’s doing things to your heart.

“I did say that, didn't I?”  You try to center yourself by closing your eyes, it’s always a bad thing to appear desperate around him but your mind insists on remembering.  The feel of the snow, the smell of the woods and the bonfires, and of Jade whether he would believe you or not.  Of the excitement in his voice when he named all the plants he knew, of the funny look on his face when his sled misbehaved, so passive as if it was happening to someone else and not him.  And of the shiver of excitement at his ideas on how to sabotage the other team, whispered quietly in your ear so as not to alert Epel in an effort to convince you of his position.  Or maybe now that you look at him he just wanted the excuse to be close.  “Yes.  Yes.  I would like that very much.”  Jade’s smile stretches to something as dangerous as it is thrilling as he takes his long desired excuse and closes the gap. “I will see you next week then.  Make sure to pack your things.”  You splutter and he takes a deep breath to savor the look as he traces your cheek and takes your weak protests in stride.  He never did say you would be going to Mount Moln this summer, you need to train after all.  Jade Leech intends to take his time with you, assuming you’ll let him of course.

Floyd

“Hehe Floyd and shrimpy, drivin to the beeeeach.  What’ll they do?”  

“Stay in their lane and watch the road.”  Crewel has to have added a “fuck” in there that he didn’t voice if his death grip on the car’s grab handle is anything to go by, and if you are honest you wish he had, it would make this whole experience much more bearable.  You have opted to hold Grim instead, prayer was also an option but that wouldn’t keep Grim from trying to harass Floyd.  He’s laughing now, saying something to Professor Crewel you can’t quite place, maybe adding a new verse to his little song that admittedly sounds kind of catchy.  Floyd has a very nice voice you swear he only ever uses to make fun of people, not that you could see him ever doing anything with it since that would take too much repetitive work.  “Pull off the exit here and make sure to park WITHIN the lines this time.”  Crewel snaps and you find yourself finally at a merciful stop, and unable to free yourself and Grim from your seatbelts fast enough under the guise of “getting your things” from the trunk.  

You aren’t fast enough to avoid Floyd.  He’s there as soon as you open the trunk, tell tale smirk on his face.

“Well shrimpy?  I’m waitin’”  He’s giggling, the only thing that’s keeping him from kicking his feet is their need to be on solid ground to keep him upright.

“You suck.”  You say completely deadpan without a hint of irony.  “Congratulations I didn’t know anybody could do it that bad.  Why did you want to try learning to drive again?  They don’t have cars under the sea do they?”  Floyd seems amused by your attempt to steam past your little insults, choosing to ignore them for now and shrug as he takes the umbrellas out of the car and closes it.  

“It seemed fun.  Beakerfish is always goin on about ‘em and Pops says they get stupid expensive.  Why’s that huh?  You humans sure do like buying shit just to break it.”  He doesn’t move immediately, like he’s waiting for something and determined to block your way until he gets it.  So you take a deep breath and lie to yourself that it’s just this one answer.

“Floyd, most people don’t wreck their cars on purpose.”  It should be the most obvious thing in the world, but still he doesn’t move.  His smile gets wider and his eyes blaze with determined focus, for some reason he gets closer to you, one hand resting above you on the car to loosely cage you against it.  He has to know what he’s doing here too, Floyd’s a lot but he’s not stupid. “Aww really, shrimpy?  There’s so many movies and games ‘bout it you’d think that’s the whole point of havin’ em.”  He giggles exactly like he does before moving in with a squeeze, bending to whisper in your ear as if Crewel isn’t just on the other side of the vehicle still holding that damn crop and just looking for an excuse to strike.  “That’s not all they do in the movies though, huh Yuu?  Maybe I wanna take you someplace nice,quiet, and all alone for once~”  And just like he’s gone, back to bothering your professor who you know is chastising himself for agreeing to chaperone this trip while you try desperately to catch your breath.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 30 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-The next night he surprises you, when after dinner and your nightly glass of wine, he jingles his keys at you. “Still want to go for a ride?”

He’s been different, since the sketchbook incident. Despondent, and quiet. At first you thought maybe he was just hungover, but it lingers, and you sense something is on the horizon.

Good or bad, you cannot say.

Desperate to go outside and thinking that driving the car can only improve his mood, you agree.

He locks your door, of course, giving you a pointed look of fuck around and find out as you settle into the seat beside him. You simply bat your eyelashes innocently, winning a begrudging little laugh.

Jumping from a moving car doesn’t exactly appeal to you, anyways.

The loud grumble of the engine as he starts the car is a tactile experience, something you feel in your bones as surely as your ears. He smiles a little as your lips form an “O” of surprise.

You hate to say it, but once you hit the roads with The Black Keys on the radio, the windows down in the summer night, thoughts of watching for an opportunity to escape completely slip your mind. Riding in a fast car down the star-lit mountain highway is bliss, and you hold his hand between shifting gears.

You are surprised when he pulls to a stop at the very mountain outlook where he brought you on your birthday. The river in the valley is a ribbon of quicksilver in the moonlight. Before you can even think to try your door he grabs you up with a hand in your hair and his lips on yours.

You make out like teenagers in the front seat, and it is as sweet as it is maddening. Your own body has begun to forget that you need a full week of rest, his tongue in your mouth and his strong hands on your body inspiring that unhelpful ache between your legs. By the time he is finished with you, he has dragged you into the driver’s seat with him, and you are starry eyed and panting, your hair wild and your lips swollen from the fury of his kisses. He seems to like looking at you in this state, his mood completely elevated by the time he starts the car and drives you home.

He holds you close that night, and you find an insane part of you wishes he would try to debauch you again, just a little bit.  

-Yet as your week of reprieve starts to draw to a close, you cannot help but dread it. It is like you are living with a ticking clock in your brain. Maybe John was kind enough to put his beast back in a box for you…but you’re certain the darkness of his was only momentarily slaked, not slain.

It will wake again.

On the eighth day he wakes you with sweet kisses on your cheek and neck, and you think to yourself, here we go.

But he just asks what you would like for breakfast, and slips out of bed.

You can hardly believe it happened.

Later, while you are in the shower he slips in behind you silent as a wraith, making you jump a foot when he touches your waist.

“Jesus Christ you scared me!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though you can tell he’s really not at all, as he ducks his head to kiss you with a little smile. You start to tremble as you wonder what new ways he’s thought up to torture you in the interim. His soapy hands all over your body are a marvel, somehow both soothing and agitating all at once. By the feeling of his erection pressed into the curve of your spine, you can tell he’s not unaffected, but he does not try to further seduce you or take what he wants, just kissing you before exiting the shower.

Standing under the warm stream of the rain head, somehow he leaves you feeling cold and alone.

You wonder what new game this is, hardly believing he’ll actually leave the choice up to you.

It goes on like this for days, and you are constantly on edge, waiting to be devoured every time he touches you.

This is almost as exhausting as being caught up and fucked properly.

As it goes on you are eventually living in agony again, existing in a state of constant, always present, red-thrumming arousal that begins to eat away at your sanity.

This diabolical man will be the death of you.

In the end it is you who cannot stand it anymore, and you know it is a victory for him but goddammit you are only a woman made of flesh and blood.

After lunch you are snuggling together, laying down on the couch. He is reading to you, but you're barely listening. You are distracted by his feet, which are bare, and elegant, and ridiculously large compared to yours. You can't stop stroking them with your little pink painted toes.

If he is moved by this, he makes very little sign, though once in a while he punctuates his sentences with a slight smile you find absolutely maddening.

You interrupt him mid-page with a kiss on his neck. He stops dead to look down at you, a question in his soft brown eyes.

You kiss him again in answer, this time on the mouth, and John Wick might be a lover of books, but just this once he disrespects one with abandon, throwing it in the general direction of the coffee table.   

It bounces before hitting the floor, dead on arrival.

You don’t care, because his mouth is on yours, and his hand is sliding up your ribcage to cup your breast in your pretty designer sundress, and you want him so much that you have ceased to care if it is wrong or right or somewhere in the gray.

When he so-generously slips a sinewy thigh between yours you grind on him like a cat in heat, hardly recognizing the sound that falls from your mouth.

It is quickly devoured by his lips again, and then his nipping teeth make their way down your jawline, to the soft curve of your neck.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he groans against your skin, and you wonder what price you’ll have to pay for it later when you answer:

“I missed you too.”

He pulls back to look at you with something like wonder in his shining dark eyes; the tender way he cradles the side of your face in his big hand tangles your heartstrings up in painful knots. But before either of you can ruin it with more words he is on you once more, claiming you with another probing kiss that curls your toes. He frees your breasts by undoing the buttons at the front of your dress, and it was not without some personal machination that you decided that morning not to wear a bra. His clever tongue on your nipples is your reward, and you whimper as he teases your tight buds.

You are nothing less than relieved, when his hand disappears beneath your skirt, running up the inside of your thigh to impatiently push aside your panties.

When he finds you soaking wet he growls into your mouth, circling your clit with slick-soaked fingers. You whimper in answer, clinging to him in your need, pulling at his shirt ineffectually. With those expert fingers dipping inside you and toying with your bud he brings you higher and higher, before pulling away. You scream a little, knowing you sound feral, and beyond caring about it too.

It makes him smile, a wolfish curl of lips that lets you know you’re about to be devoured.

“My fierce little kitten. Do you need me, baby?”

“Yes,” you answer, somewhat begrudgingly now. You are hoping against hope that he’s not going to play games with you today. That maybe you can just…be together, for once, without all the rest of this man’s dark baggage weighing you down.

He pulls his shirt over his head, and like always you seem to lose time staring at him, so taken by the sight of his broad chest and bare arms, scarred and tattooed as they are.

“You still like what you see?” he asks, with a surprising note of vulnerability.

“Yes.” You run your hands over his pecs, up the column of his neck to stroke the soft hair behind his ear, and his eyes slide closed. He doesn’t even make you call him Sir...and you hope this is promising.

You watch with your hands behind your head, your breasts free of the bosom of your dress, as he unbuttons his jeans and shimmies out of everything. The magnificent sight of him bare before you makes you sigh with some unnamable satisfaction, and you reach for him with open arms.

He seems to like the sight of you with your hair mused and your skirt up around your hips. He does not undress you, just slides your panties down your thighs, looking down at you as though you are something precious to behold. You are wound so tight that that look alone almost makes you cum.

With your legs wrapped around his slim hips he slides inside you, the stretch and glide of his big cock the most wonderful thing you’ve ever felt. He moans in your ear as you pull him deeper still with your heel digging into his firm buttock. You lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you up, and the muscles of his powerful back under your hands as he moves. You enjoy it as he takes what he wants from you, just reveling in the feel of him, but when he sits up to prop you on his lean thighs and circles your clit with his thumb while he’s inside you—oh.

This could be the gate to heaven, and your nails dig into the pillow behind you as he fills you with the most impossible pleasure, one flick of his thumb at a time. That scintillating tension builds between your legs, nigh unbearable in the promise of its glory. “Fuck, please, John,” you beg, because you have waited so long and you have walked through hell to finally get here.

You could murder him, when the rhythm of his touch slows. “You ready to say something for me, beautiful?”

Not this shit again.

“No,” you whimper, thrashing against the smooth leather of the couch. “No, don’t do this to me now.”

“I need to hear it,” he insists, sounding almost as desperate as you this time. “Need you to say that you’re mine.”

He’s finally done it.

After all this, John Wick has finally found your breaking point, and as it turned out it was all at the tip his thumb.

Suddenly you are filled with everything.

Everything he has put you through the past weeks. The emotional rollercoaster of the anger and the fear, the joy and sympathy and heartbreak and love. He makes you feel everything but he denies you this because you refuse to admit you are a thing to be owned by him? You are the molten core of a volcano—this is the final pound of pressure that makes you explode.

“You want me to say something?” you demand with a snarl. You try to twist away, but his hands are iron on your thighs, keeping you joined. Maybe he’s merely inside your pussy, but a part of you feels as though he’s in your very soul, and it’s not fair how he’s made his way inside you. Inside your mind, your heart, your body.

None of this is fair.

“I hate you!”

His handsome features pull in the most thunderous frown imaginable, but before he can reply you go on, “I hate you for making me love you, for dangling that in front of me then switching it for whatever the fuck this is! And I hate it that I cannot stop loving you after everything you’ve put me through! Why isn’t it enough that I love you?”

Again you fight like a wild thing, until the only way he can restrain you is to lay his body completely over yours, pinning you with his solid weight, holding your wrists over your head with an iron grip.

Those blazing dark eyes feel as though they will burn a hole in you. Raggedly he breathes through his nose, staring you down.

You’ve done it. This mad man is finally going to hurt you. This man who you loved, who you do love, is going to make certain you never see the light of day again. You shake in your fury and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks. You cannot stop them anymore than you can bring yourself to close your eyes to look away.

“Say that again,” he growls, and you are certain you sense your end in those words.

You can’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“I hate you.”

“No. The other.”

You could weep, and your voice cracks.

“I love you.”

You watch as he wars with himself, weighing your words, running the full gamut of wonder, anger, disbelief…and acceptance.

His mouth crashes over yours, and gods help you, but you meet him head on with a desperation you didn’t know yourself capable of. He is filling you again, lifting your leg with his knee and sliding deep as he can inside your needy cunt, and it is glorious.

“Fuck,” you whine, hiking up your legs nearly to your chest to bring him closer, tighter, more. He manipulates your body like a master, reaching between you to toy with your clit again. It’s so wonderful that your answering moan sounds more like a sob.

He strums you like your body is an instrument he was born to play, taking you to the shining edge to the merciless rhythm of his thick manhood burying inside you. You half expect him to pull back again, but he only watches you, watches you with those eyes that miss nothing while he grants you that ultimate pleasure at last.

Your orgasm is vicious in its intensity, ripping through you like a firestorm, your back bowing so hard you fear your spine might crack, a scream torn from your throat that surely echoes all the way down the mountain. He is right behind you, thrusting hard while the clench of your pussy pulls him over the glorious edge too. He grips you so tightly there will be bruises. The tremors of his last thrusts tease you with a splendid agony, ropes of his hot cum filling you to the brim.

When at last it is done he collapses on top of you, only propping himself just enough so as not to smother you. You bury your nose in the bend of his neck, hiding in the soft waves of his dark hair, shakily breathing in the scent of him.

When finally he can move again he sits up just enough to see you, the tip of his straight nose touching yours. “It’s enough, for now,” he tells you, and you close your eyes with relief, craning your neck to press your lips to his. He kisses you with a tenderness that breaks you all over again, your eyes filling with fresh tears.  

The quiet that follows is like the hush after a battle, neither of you capable of sleep, but not really capable of motion either. It is a long time before he rolls onto his side, pulling you into him again. “I love you, y/n. I love you more…than I can possibly tell you.”

You sigh, burying your face against his chest.

“It’s ok,” you whisper. “Just…don’t hurt me, and we’ll figure it out. Ok?”

You feel him nod against the top of your head, though he says nothing in return.

Again you bask in the quiet together, your limbs deliciously tangled, until you feel a cold snoot on your back.

You turn to find dog resting his head on the couch by you, his tail wagging as he gives you the puppy dog eyes.

John snorts at the display, reaching out to scratch his ears. “He thinks we’re making him a puppy,” he huffs, clearly amused.

You laugh at the thought. “Fat chance, buddy,” you tell the hopeful pooch, turning in John’s arms so you can pet the dog.

Then you freeze, as you wonder if you’ve disclosed something you shouldn’t have.

John’s lips touch your shoulder as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against him again. “It’s alright, y/n. I know about your IUD.”

“How?”

He sounds sleepy, as he answers. “I hacked your medical records. Well…I paid someone to hack them.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to know if there was anything in your history we needed to get ahead of.” He says this like it is the most natural, most acceptable thing in the world. And yet, after what happened with Helen…somehow it is also touching.

He really has managed to warp your sense of right and wrong.

“Invasive much?”

“I’m an asshole. I know.” He doesn’t sound sorry in the least, and you can tell that he is moments from falling asleep.

In that moment, you decide you feel safe enough, and content enough, to follow suite.