#i wanted to see how small i could draw him

[heesimp]

sunghoon who has to hide his rough dom side in sex from a new gf to not to scare her away but he has the worst corruption kink possible and therefore.. constant vile conversation with himself in his head while watching his pretty soft naive girl who has no idea of how much of a mean perv he is

sunghoon who cums at the thought of his girlfriend being a virgin

-

He shouldn’t be doing this because you’ll be out of the shower any minute.

Sunghoon would like to think he knows you well enough to know how long it takes for you to shower when you wash your hair. As he’s experienced only a handful of times before, it takes you a while to shampoo, exfoliate, soap yourself up before washing it away, and complete your post-shower hair and skin routine. You’ve got it down pat but it still takes a while. Sunghoon knows just how much time he has to jerk off before you come out.

“Fuck my cock like that,�� he whispers into the quiet air with his legs spread wide on your bedsheets with his pants and boxers shoved just below his balls. He makes a tight first with both hands and twists them. “I could make you feel so good if you let me.”

He really could. But he’s your boyfriend and he loves you, sure, but he knows he’d love you even more the minute you let him stick it in. Sunghoon is constantly so horny and hard that keeping this a secret from you is starting to tear him down. He eyes you like his prey when you’re in public and loves observing the way you interact with his friends.

You’re so innocent, drawing everybody in and making friends out of strangers. He almost feels bad for thinking about you with your back arched as he fucks you from behind.

“Such a small pussy.” Sunghoon grunts and thrusts his hips into the air to meet his hands. “Gonna let me fuck you soon, Y/N? Hm? I know you want it.”

And to a certain extend, he thinks you might feel the same way. But knowing you, Sunghoon thinks your nerves are getting in the way. You were hesitant to agree to let him take you out on a date because he had been previously known to mess around and keep friendly relations to a minimal with people he would sleep with. Sunghoon was ready to throw that all away the minute he met you by way of Jongseong and upon seeing you in the baby blue number he loves so much, Sunghoon deleted every girl in his phone that wasn’t family and girls he wouldn’t sleep with.

But even so, Sunghoon is so horny all the time. He’s not used to this abstinence and you shy away from sex scenes on TV or the mere mention of anything indecent. It turns him on more than he’d like to admit and if he’s an asshole for getting off on the idea of taking your virginity, he’ll deal with the consequences.

“I bet your pussy’s tighter than anyone I’ve ever had.” He moans when he cups his balls with his free hand. “I’m so close, baby. Please let me fuck you. Let me take your virginity. Fuck.”

He stands up and looks around for a tissue, stacking three on top of one another to avoid soaking your blankets. Sunghoon turns his wrist and angles the head of his dick towards the tissues before grunting and watching his cum cling onto the white Kleenex below until he’s all emptied out. Sunghoon gets rid of it and tucks it underneath your trash and calms himself down while laying on top of your bed.

You walk out looking like the innocent angel he knows you to be with a halo around your head. Your bare legs and wet skin make Sunghoon gulp.

[demonic0angel]

"If you give me a prompt I'll write it 😈" - Aight Bet.

Danny didn't expect his sister to have a pen pal, she said it's someone from nanda Parbat?? Danny doesn't know where the Fuck that is but everytime he sees the letter that was sent(those are some fancy lookin envelopes) he could feel rancid Ectoplasm lingering around them.

Jazz has already noticed but took no caution about it, Jazz said that she had a son, her name was Talia (No Mentioned Last name) and she was a very odd woman.

Danny listened to Jazz ramble on about her new "friend", Her son Damian which her pen pal had talked about and even sent a drawing of(how fancy). Danny WOULD investigate and dig deep into it since he's the ghost king and all but jazz explicitly told him not to.

....

Meanwhile, Jazz plans to meet her 'Penpal Friend' soon. She's very excited but still cautious, The way her friend talked about her situations was... Concerning to say the least and jazz shall use her psychiatrical expertise to help her!

[Danny is very concerned, Dan is Very Concerned 2.0, Dani says "Yuri."]

-A.E. 👻

(I’m gonna change the context of your ask a little so Jazz already knows Talia’s identity before she meets her again in person. Also, this got really long lmaooo)

Talia gave her a small nod when she saw her. She lifted her head to meet Jazz’s gaze as Jazz gave her a dazzling smile.

“Hello, Talia,” Jazz said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “You look lovely.”

Talia avoided her gaze and just hummed. She cleared her throat lightly and then said, gesturing to the hallway, “This way.”

Jazz followed her at a set pace and said, “It’s good seeing you again. How are you? Did you enjoy the candy I shipped over?”

Talia nodded. “Yes. I gave them to my son and he enjoyed them. Thank you very much.”

Jazz beamed. She did not ask the burning question in her heart. Was Talia alright? Her letters to her had become less and less frequent in the past year before the most recent message to her had been a barely disguised begging for Jazz to come see her.

Jazz didn’t mind; she loved seeing Talia, who was startlingly dangerous and hauntingly beautiful, but it still worried her. Talia was a strong woman, but she wasn’t invincible, even with that pool of rancid ectoplasmic bath water. (She shuddered just thinking about it. She needed to ask Danny to wipe them out before Talia could hurt herself again using them.)

“Where are we going?” Jazz asked, glancing around. They were inside of a nice, expensive looking condo in Spain.

Talia paused in front of a door. She hesitated before she said slowly, “Jazz… I have valued your friendship greatly. In the last few years, you have become someone very dear to me. However, as you are already aware, I am in a dangerous position in my home. I do not wish to endanger you, especially since you are a civilian. If you do not wish to take this journey with me, then… you should turn around now.”

Jazz chuckled. How cute that Talia thought that Jazz was a helpless civilian. However, it had been Jazz who had accidentally enforced that idea within Talia’s mind. It was a little too late to correct that notion though, so Jazz just shook her head softly and tried to look reassuring for Talia.

“It’s too late for that.” She reached out to hold Talia’s hand, scarred and weathered from fighting, squeezing slightly. “I will accompany you and help you however I can.”

Talia nodded again, looking away. “Thank you… beloved.”

Jazz tilted her head curiously at the title, but did not say a word. Talia then opened the door and Jazz’s eyebrows rose as she stared at a young boy with similar features to the woman beside her. He scowled at her, but it just looked cute with his round cheeks.

Jazz turned to Talia. She already had an inkling, but she wanted to confirm. “This is…?”

“My son,” Talia said, “His name is Damian. And I earnestly beg you to take him in for me.”

“What! But mother!” Damian stood up and shouted, while Jazz’s eyebrows shot up again.

Talia gave him a light glare. She turned back to Jazz and it was cute how she had to look up at her. “My father is increasing pressure on us, and he is training Damian even harder. If this continues, Damian’s life could be in danger. I would’ve left him with his father, but Bruce’s lifestyle is… not what I want for Damian. Please, could you take him in, beloved?”

Damian shut his mouth with a click and both Al Ghuls stared at Jazz with wide eyes, one beseeching and one shocked.

Jazz smiled and reached out to hold Talia’s hand again. It was really nice to hold, and warm too. “Of course. You don’t have to worry, Talia. Like I’ve said, you can depend on me.”

Talia beamed. “Thank you, beloved.” She flipped Jazz’s hand and kissed the back of it softly. Jazz blushed. It felt strangely… intimate? But who was Jazz to judge? Maybe it was a League of Assassins custom! Or something! She didn’t get to meet Talia often, usually just exchanging weekly letters, so how would she know?

Talia turned back to Damian, still holding Jazz’s hand and said, “She will be your new caretaker. She is very important to me and you can trust her with your life. Call her… mom.”

Jazz side eyed Talia, but did not dispute it. Maybe it was some sort of spy plan? Like a code name? It would make more sense when a woman and a young boy were together for them to be mother and son.

Jazz also turned to Damian and let go of Talia’s hand to walk over to him slowly, keeping an open posture and friendly smile on her face.

Damian eyed Jazz as she approached and then knelt down respectfully before him. She smiled. “Hello, Damian. I’m Jazz, and I hope we can get along.”

Damian looked at his mother. They had some sort of silent conversation that Jazz did not understand, before Damian turned back to her. “Yes… it’s nice to meet you too… mom.”

Jazz smiled. “I’ll take care of you.”

Damian sniffed. “I certainly hope so.” He tried to look haughty, but he was so short compared to Jazz that it once again looked adorable and pouty.

Yep. It was official. Her siblings were going to eat him alive.

Jazz looked back at Talia, who was staring at them both with a soft expression. Strangely, the gentle look made Jazz’s stomach flutter.

Weird. Was she growing sick?

Talia blinked, noticing her gaze. “Is there something wrong, beloved?”

Jazz coughed at the nickname again. Damian eyed her like she was a walking disease and Talia just looked more and more worried. “Nope! So, uh, what’s the official plan?”

She stared at Talia, who just blinked and hummed, pursing her red, kissable lips.

Yep. Definitely sick.

(Talia: Heh! Cool, calm, and collected, with a dash of vulnerability! I’m definitely showing my best side to my beloved, Jazz! She’s so much better than that emotionally constipated Bruce!

Jazz: *completely and utterly oblivious to any advances made by another woman* Wow, Talia is so pretty today too. Surely, it is normal to want to hold hands and kiss another girl because she’s so pretty 😃 I wonder why she wants her kid to call me mom? 😃

Damian: …. Two moms? Is this my birthday?)

[kiryoutann]

another sneak peek because i have yet to find it in me to post the full thing. warning(s): MDNI, sexual contents, graphic description of blood, wounds, burn scars, and violence. past-torture, possible dacryphilia.

“Those scars…” Your voice wavered, and you had to pause to steady it. “Were they from your time in the military?”

Watching those pretty lips tremble, tears marring your beautiful face, he felt a sickening clench in his chest. Part of him hated seeing you so sad, while another swelled with something akin to misplaced pride – that this angel was weeping over scars so old they had long since stopped hurting him.

Scars from battles the old Simon had fought years ago. Scars he had seen as part of his creation, marks he bore without feeling.

“Some from service, yeah. Others… more personal-like.” He said it nonchalantly. In his perspective, as proof that it didn’t hurt anymore, didn't need to numb it with ice like he did in the past—so, sweet thing, stop crying over him.

As if that were possible. He could tell you that it happened years ago, but it doesn't matter; it wouldn't lessen the pain even if your human life spanned a hundred centuries. Your tongue seared, heart sliced—someone touched the one you love with the most brutal violence they could choose in this world.

The image must have been absurd—the two of you completely naked in front of each other, yet instead of continuing, you weep over him. But now that you’ve seen it—those scars etched so cruelly and eternally upon his flesh—how do you look away?

"Why... why would anyone want to hurt you?” Your voice trembled, tracing that scar near his ribs that had caught your attention since you first saw it. It stood out, raised and knotted in a way that spoke of a cruel blade—making you wince at the thought of the pain. “Is… is this from your time in the military too?”

“Yeah,”

“What happened?”

Without any real weight, he said, “Got meself ‘anged by the ribs once,” in a light intonation as if it were some kind of joke.

But it wasn’t. My God, you wished it was, but it wasn’t, judging by the scars.

Despite his effort, it couldn’t mask the horror he’d experienced. Your breath hitches in a sob, your hand trying to cover your mouth. Your airway constricts as you imagine how it must have felt for him then. Hanged by the ribs, feeling your skin tear from holding your weight, flesh on display like they do in a slaughterhouse.

And he still manages to shush you, drawing your head to his chest in a tight hug like you’re the one who’s been through it all.

“Twern’t nothin’ – doesn’t even ‘urt no more.”

Pressed against his skin, you seek the usual solace that his heartbeat brings. But your heart remains unsettled, a lingering question nagging at your mind and tongue, refusing to let you find peace until it's voiced.

Raising your head slightly, chin resting upon his chest, you meet his gaze with red-rimmed eyes. "And... and the burn scars?”

“House fire during a mission.”

You know that’s not the full truth, but you don’t dare to press it, choosing to spare your heart from more details of his agonies.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” You said.

Simon gave a small hum in response. Reaching up, he wiped away your tears with his thumb. “Then stop cryin', love. 'Urts more to see yer pretty face all red and puffy.”

The hands around your jaw bring you closer. This time, he's the first to initiate this new kiss, closing his lips around yours with almost hesitant caution. And you want to cry—you want to cry from how gentle his touch is, and yet someone has handled him in the cruelest way possible.

[sneak peek of chapter 10 of "A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING."]

[kiwriteswords]

Something To Be Thankful For

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: With Thanksgiving in the US next week, I could not help myself! Started writing this one last week and debated on posting, but here we are. Enjoy! Grateful for this community! (Also needed to post this before I move onto writing some Christmas content, lol!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: Thanksgiving, fluff, domestic moments, holiday traditions, family dynamics, slow burn, new relationship, found family, mentions of grief, mentions of wine/alcohol, and food TW.

Sypnosis: When you accept an unexpected Thanksgiving invitation from Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, a simple holiday dinner becomes something more. Through shared laughter, heartfelt moments, and the warmth of a home-cooked meal, you discover the beauty of connection and the quiet joy of being exactly where you belong.

You were shuffling papers into your go-bag when you heard a knock on the edge of your desk. Glancing up, you were greeted by Hotch’s warm smile, softer than the one he wore in the field but still undeniably him. It was a smile you’d only recently gotten used to—the kind of smile that reminded you things between the two of you were no longer strictly professional.

The bullpen was quieter than usual. Most of the team had already left for the extended Thanksgiving break. Morgan had been the first to bolt, teasing everyone about having a “real” meal with family, while Garcia had dragged Reid out the door, insisting he couldn’t spend the holiday with nothing but his books for company. Rossi had a feast he was looking forward to slaving over, and you could still hear Emily groan at having to see her mother. JJ, however, was looking forward to the domestic Thanksgiving she was hosting. Now, it was just you and Hotch left, lingering in the familiar silence of the BAU.

“You’re not headed out yet?” Aaron’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful, drawing your attention away from your bag. He stood near your desk, hands in his pockets, his tie slightly loosened from the day.

“Just tying up some loose ends,” you replied, zipping your bag shut and brushing a stray hair from your face. “You?”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting from your bag to you and then back again. His expression was softer than usual, but his shoulders still carried that ever-present weight. “Actually, I wanted to ask what your plans are for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, nothing special.” You shrugged, keeping your tone light and breezy. “My family’s out of state, so I’ll probably just stay in. Maybe I’ll cook something small and watch some cheesy holiday movies. You know, the usual.”

Aaron frowned slightly, the crease between his brows deepening, and you immediately regretted how casually you’d phrased it. His concern was unmistakable, and it made your stomach flip.

“You’re spending it alone?” he asked, his voice a touch lower, softer.

“Well, yeah,” you said lightly, trying to shrug it off. “I didn’t think traveling back for just a few days made sense. Plus, it’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

He didn’t respond right away, and his silence made you look up at him. There was something unreadable in his expression, a quiet thoughtfulness that always made you feel like he saw more than you ever intended to show. His lips pressed together briefly, and then his shoulders relaxed just a fraction. When he finally spoke, there was a quiet determination in his tone.

“Then join me and Jack.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Join us,” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice gentler this time. “It’ll just be the two of us. Jessica is with Haley’s family, and Sean… well, who knows where he is. There’s plenty of room at the table.”

“Oh, Aaron, I don’t want to intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He stepped closer still, and now his eyes held yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Jack would love to have you there. And so would I.”

Your throat tightened at his sincerity, and for a moment, you could only stare at him. This was Aaron Hotchner—stoic, composed, sometimes impossibly guarded. But now, he was standing in front of you, asking you to spend Thanksgiving with him and his son. It was more than an invitation—it felt like a gesture, an opening to something you hadn’t dared to hope for.

The two of you hadn’t discussed Thanksgiving before this. Your relationship was still new, so new that you’d intentionally avoided bringing up the holiday, not wanting to impose or create any kind of awkward expectation. But here he was, offering exactly what you hadn’t dared to ask for.

“You’re sure?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant.

“I’m very sure,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You shouldn’t spend the holiday alone. And honestly…” He paused, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “It wouldn’t feel right without you.”

Aaron could see the uncertainty flickering in your expression, but he also saw the moment it gave way to something warmer, something that made his chest tighten. He hadn’t planned to ask—not until he saw you standing there, zipping up your bag with a casual mention of spending the day alone. The thought of you sitting by yourself, piecing together a small meal, felt wrong in a way he couldn’t ignore.

You nodded, the weight of his sincerity breaking through your hesitation. “Okay. I’ll come.”

The relief that washed over his face was subtle but unmistakable, and his small smile made your chest feel impossibly light. “Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Sounds perfect.”

As the two of you walked to the elevator, silence filled the space, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You felt his presence next to you, steady and sure, and your mind raced with the implications of spending Thanksgiving with him and Jack. It was new territory, uncharted and a little daunting, but the thought of sitting at his table—laughing, sharing stories, carving turkey—filled you with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

Aaron glanced at you as you both stepped into the elevator, catching the faint trace of a smile on your lips. For him, the idea of having you there wasn’t just about avoiding loneliness; it was about inviting you into something that mattered to him. Jack needed to see that warmth, that joy again. And, quietly, so did he.

The morning of Thanksgiving arrived, and your kitchen looked like a crime scene—a deliciously fragrant, pumpkin-filled crime scene. Flour dusted the counter, a rolling pin was haphazardly balanced against a bowl, and the golden-brown crust of your homemade pumpkin pie was cooling on a rack, mocking you with its imperfect edges.

“This has to be perfect,” you muttered, frowning as you adjusted the spices in the filling for the third time. Despite your best efforts, doubt lingered like a stubborn stain. You didn’t want to bring just any dessert to Aaron and Jack’s Thanksgiving table; it had to be flawless.

But the pie wasn’t your only problem.

Your bedroom was a disaster zone. A few blouses were draped over the chair, rejected dresses lay in a heap on the bed, and a pair of black heels you’d pulled from the back of your closet sat mockingly on the floor. Every outfit you tried on felt wrong—too formal, too casual, or just not you.

After tossing yet another top onto the growing pile, you grabbed your phone and hit Aaron’s contact. The second you heard his warm, familiar voice on the other end, you started rambling.

“Hey, okay, so, uh, what’s the dress code for today? Like, should I wear a dress? Or maybe a nice top and jeans? Or should I do something fancier? I don’t want to overdo it, but I also don’t want to look like I didn’t try—oh God, what if I look like I’m trying too hard? Are we doing photos? Do I need to plan for that? Aaron—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, a soft laugh threading through his voice. “Take a breath.”

You paused, clutching the phone tightly as you exhaled. “Sorry. I’m just… overthinking.”

“I can tell,” he said, still chuckling. “But you don’t have to. Trust me.”

“How can I not overthink? It’s our first holiday together, and I don’t want to mess it up,” you admitted in a rush.

“You won’t,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “Honestly, you’re adorable when you get frazzled like this.”

Your cheeks heated at his words, and before you could protest, he added, “Jack’s still in his pajamas. And as for me… well, I’m not exactly pulling out a suit for dinner at home. Something comfortable is perfectly fine.”

“Wait���Jack’s still in his pajamas?” you asked, blinking in disbelief, looking at the clock on your nightstand.

“Yes,” Aaron said, clearly amused. “And he’ll probably stay in them until I convince him to change for dinner. So, whatever you’re comfortable in will be perfect. You don’t need to try for us.”

His words sank in, melting some of the tension in your chest. “Okay,” you said quietly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Now, how’s the pie coming along?”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon lingered in the air. “It’s… well, it’s not going to win any awards for presentation, but I think it’ll taste good.”

“That’s all that matters,” Aaron said. “We’re looking forward to it—and to seeing you.”

Your stomach fluttered at the warmth in his voice. “Me too,” you murmured, suddenly feeling a lot calmer.

“Good. I’ll be there soon to pick you up. Take your time finishing up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Aaron.”

After you hung up, you felt the lingering anxiety dissolve. You ditched the fancy outfit idea and settled on your favorite pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. Then, you went back to the pie, focusing on getting the filling just right while you waited for him to arrive.

When the familiar black SUV pulled into your driveway, you took a deep breath, balancing the still-warm pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag filled with carefully packed containers in the other. You barely had time to lock the door behind you before Jack jumped out of the car and bounded up to meet you, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi!” he chirped, his excitement palpable. He glanced at the pie in your hands. “Is that dessert?”

“It sure is,” you said, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. “And there’s more where that came from. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m always hungry,” Jack said with a dramatic sigh, making you laugh.

Aaron approached a moment later, his brows lifting in surprise as he took in the scene. You were balancing a picture-perfect pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag in the other, your face flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Pumpkin pie and—what’s in the bag?” he asked, his tone light with curiosity.

You straightened, holding the bag up with a sheepish smile. “Homemade stuffing. And a couple of bottles of wine.”

Aaron blinked, his lips curving into an amused smile. He had expected you to bring the pumpkin pie you raved about, knowing how thoughtful you were, but this was above and beyond. “You didn’t have to go all out.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” you replied, shrugging. “It felt weird to show up empty-handed.”

“And the wine?” he asked, his tone teasing as his gaze flicked to the bottles tucked in the side pocket of the bag.

“One red, one white,” you said, grinning. “You like red, I like white, and I’m not driving, so… why not?”

Aaron chuckled softly, shaking his head. You’d thought of everything. “Fair enough. Why not?”

Jack reached for the bag, eager to help, but Aaron gently intercepted it. “Let me carry that,” he said, taking the bag and pie from you. “You take it easy. We’ve got this.”

As he walked back to the car, his thoughts lingered on you. He’d always admired your attention to detail, but this? This was another level. It wasn’t just the food or the wine—it was the thoughtfulness behind it. You’d taken the time to think about what would make the day special, not just for him but for Jack, too. It tugged at something deep in him, quiet gratitude that he wasn’t facing this day alone anymore.

The drive back to Aaron and Jack’s apartment was quiet and peaceful, the kind of stillness that only came with holidays. The roads were nearly empty; the world seemingly paused for the day.

Jack filled the silence, animatedly telling you about how his dad had let him help with the turkey that morning.

“Well, I didn’t really touch the turkey,” Jack admitted, grinning. “But I got to pick the seasoning!”

From the driver’s seat, Aaron couldn’t help but smile. Jack was practically beaming, his excitement contagious. Aaron found himself glancing at you in the rearview mirror, the way your eyes lit up as you listened to Jack’s story.

“You’ve got a good sous chef there, Aaron,” you teased, glancing at him. He gave you one of those small, subtle smiles that you were quickly learning to adore.

The warmth of your voice settled something in him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading this day, how empty it had felt knowing Jessica was away and Sean was off doing who-knew-what. But now, with you in the car and Jack’s laughter filling the space, it felt… full. It felt right.

“Well,” Aaron said, his lips twitching into a faint smile, “he might be better at seasoning than I am.”

Jack let out a laugh, and you joined in, the sound weaving through the quiet hum of the car. Aaron’s chest tightened for a moment—not in discomfort, but in recognition. This was something he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for in a long time: the beginnings of a new kind of family, one that made the holidays feel like home again.

When you arrived at the apartment, Aaron carried your things while you shrugged off your coat. He set the bag down carefully and returned to you, his hands outstretched to take your coat. His gaze lingered a little longer, studying your face before trailing down to your outfit. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and warm. The sincerity behind it made your heart skip.

You glanced down at your outfit—a simple pair of jeans and a soft sweater—and flushed. “This? It’s nothing fancy.”

“I know,” he replied, his smile growing slightly. “That’s why I like it. You could be wearing sweats, and you’d still look great.”

Your chest fluttered at his words, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Aaron.”

He hung your coat with an easy familiarity, glancing back at you as if he wanted to say more but chose to keep it to himself. For a moment, the quiet in the room felt heavy with something unspoken, but then Jack broke the silence, bounding toward you with the same enthusiasm he’d shown when he first greeted you.

“Come on! We’re setting the table,” Jack said, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dining area.

“Lead the way,” you said with a laugh, letting him guide you.

Aaron stood by the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, watching the two of you go. Jack was chatting animatedly about napkin folding techniques he’d learned from his Aunt Jess, and you were smiling, nodding along with genuine interest. Aaron turned back to the kitchen, his chest tightening—not from stress, but from something softer, more hopeful.

The next half hour passed in a warm flurry of activity. While Aaron focused on the turkey, you and Jack worked together to set the table. Jack insisted on folding the napkins into what he called “turkey shapes,” even though they looked more like triangles, and you encouraged his efforts as if he were crafting masterpieces.

“You’re a natural,” you told him as he carefully adjusted a plate.

He grinned up at you, his pride clear. “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a playful wink, and Jack’s grin widened even more.

From the kitchen, Aaron glanced over at the two of you. His hands stilled on the turkey baster as he watched Jack eagerly showing you his handiwork, your laughter mixing with Jack’s excited chatter. The sight made something settle in him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time spreading through his chest.

He shifted his focus back to the turkey, his mind wandering to how easily you’d fit into their dynamic. It wasn’t forced, wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was natural, like you’d been part of their little family all along. He shook his head slightly, the faintest smile lingering on his lips as he resumed preparing dinner.

The apartment filled with the warm, savory aroma of roasting turkey, the clinking of plates as Jack adjusted the table settings, and the soft hum of conversation. Occasionally, you glanced toward the kitchen, where Aaron worked with quiet efficiency, a faint smile playing at the edges of his expression whenever he caught your eye.

Jack’s laughter echoed brightly, and Aaron chuckled softly in response, the sound grounding the space in warmth and comfort. It had been a long time since Thanksgiving had felt like more than just another day, but with you here, it felt different. It felt like something new, something he wanted to hold onto.

The table was set, the food was ready, and the apartment buzzed with a warmth that felt almost tangible. Jack had insisted on lighting the small candle centerpiece he’d picked out, proudly declaring it “fancy.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he adjusted the napkins for the third time, clearly taking his job very seriously.

Aaron carried the turkey to the table, the golden skin glistening perfectly, and Jack’s eyes widened in awe. “Whoa, Dad, it looks awesome!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Aaron said, his lips quirking into a small smile. His gaze flickered toward you for a moment, something softer lingering there before he gestured for everyone to take their seats.

As the three of you settled in, Jack’s excitement bubbled over. “Can we eat now? Please?”

Aaron shook his head, chuckling. “Not quite yet, Jack.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze warm as he looked between you and his son. “Before we start, I think it’s only right that we share what we’re grateful for.”

Jack groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “Dad…”

“Come on,” Aaron said with a faint smirk. “It’s tradition.”

Jack sighed dramatically, but you could tell he didn’t mind as much as he pretended. Aaron turned to you, a slight tilt of his head. “Would you like to go first?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but quickly smiled. “Sure.” You looked at Jack, then at Aaron, and for a moment, your words caught in your throat. “I guess… I’m grateful for this,” you said softly. “For being here, for both of you. This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of—a warm meal, good company, and moments that feel like home.”

Aaron’s expression softened, his gaze steady as he nodded. Jack beamed at you, clearly pleased by your answer.

“My turn!” Jack piped up. “I’m grateful for… um… pie!” He grinned mischievously before quickly adding, “And Dad. And you,” he said, looking at you shyly. “And for not having to eat Brussels sprouts this year.”

That earned a laugh from both you and Aaron, and Jack grinned, proud of himself. Aaron’s smile lingered as he turned his attention to Jack.

“Well, I’m grateful for you, Jack,” he said, his tone soft but steady. “And for this… for today. It’s been a while since Thanksgiving felt like Thanksgiving.”

His gaze shifted to you, and there was something unspoken in his eyes, a depth that made your breath catch. “I’m grateful for you,” he said simply. “For being here.”

The words were gentle but carried a weight that settled over the table like a warm blanket. Jack didn’t notice the brief pause that followed, busy trying to decide what part of the turkey to claim first, but you felt it—the quiet sincerity of what Aaron had said.

As the meal began, the conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the clinking of plates and utensils. The food was incredible, each dish perfectly cooked and seasoned. You found yourself marveling at Aaron’s skill in the kitchen.

“This is amazing,” you said between bites of turkey. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this together.”

“Dad’s a really good cook,” Jack said proudly. “He always lets me help.”

Aaron glanced at you, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks at the praise. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said quietly, his tone tinged with modesty.

The meal stretched on, each bite more delicious than the last, but it wasn’t just the food—it was the atmosphere. The apartment felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years. For Aaron, this was the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t spent alone with Jack since Haley passed. The ones before that—when he and Haley were divorced—had been different, fractured in a way he tried not to dwell on.

But tonight? Tonight was different. It wasn’t just the food or the laughter; it was the way you fit so effortlessly into this moment. It was the way Jack’s eyes lit up when you praised his napkin folding, the way your laugh softened the edges of his own grief, the way you leaned into this space like it was where you belonged.

Aaron leaned back slightly, watching you and Jack talk animatedly about the pie, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful but full. It had been years—years—since he’d felt this kind of warmth during a holiday. Not since Jack was a baby, not since he and Haley had been on the same page. This wasn’t just a good Thanksgiving. This was a piece of something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

For you, this moment was everything you’d dreamed of when you thought about falling in love someday. Not the grand gestures or big declarations, but this—the little moments. The laughter shared over a meal, the warmth of a family gathering, the simple joy of being wanted somewhere.

As the evening wore on, Jack began to nod off at the table, and Aaron scooped him up, promising him a slice of pie tomorrow. You helped clear the dishes, and the quiet rhythm of the task ground you both in the moment. Aaron glanced at you as you set the last plate in the sink, his expression soft.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“For being here,” he said simply, the weight of his gratitude clear in his voice.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you replied, “Thank you for having me.” And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like Thanksgiving was exactly what it was meant to be.

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[strnilolover]

Regarding prince!matt x maid!reader and Ik it nnn but… how did their first time go?? Like maybe they did it at night bend down on his throne or in the ballroom, I just wanna see if he’s got that game in him as a prince 😋😋

putting these both here since they’re about the same thing.

I think darling and matt’s first time is actually really sweet and gentle, and not in the open because that could risk them getting caught and they don’t want that.

Warnings : Smut, unprotected p in v (be careful), fingering, head (f!receiving), matt the much, missionary prince matt, soft sex, pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart), first time together (but not losing virginities!) and more?

It was late at night, matt had just gotten into his room for the night after running around and doing several things that were required of him. He was exhausted to say the least, walking over to his bed still fully dressed and flopping down on his back.

Darling was trailing right behind him into the room, closing the door behind her as she made her way and sat on the edge of his bed. Of course she had accompanied him the whole day — like she always did. It being one of the many things she was required to do as his maid. But, matt right off the bat didn’t always have her do the things she was supposed to do.

Matt groaned, his hand coming up to rub at his face. “Darling, could you draw me a bath please?” he asked, sitting up on his elbows to look at her. She smiled, giving a small nod before walking off to his conjoined bathroom.

She quickly grabbed out his towels, laying them on the counter before she wandered over to the more than averaged sized bathtub — starting the water and turning it to hot. Grabbing a thing of soap, she poured some under the running faucet — the bubbles quickly filling out on top of the water as steam started to rise in the atmosphere of the bathroom.

Darling smiled to herself, making sure everything was perfect and in order before she left the room — going to get matt.

Her shoes pattered against the flooring, approaching Matt’s bed as she leaned over his body. “Matt?-“ she whispered, seeing that his eyes were closed. But he hummed in response, peeking an eye open at her. “-uh your bath is ready..” she stated, getting ready to retreat and lean back. But before she could get very far, matt grabbed her — pulling her down on top of him.

He held her to his chest. “You’re always so good to me darling..” he said, rolling over and pinning her beneath him. Her cheeks flushed, hands coming up to grip his shoulders. “I- jus’ doing my job.” she muttered, but they both knew it was more than that.

He hummed, smiling softly down at her. “Uh huh, you sure?” he teased, and she just giggled nervously. He gave her on last look, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her temple before sitting up and climbing off the bed. She sat up on her elbows, watching as he walked toward the bathroom. But, before he entered — he turned his head, looking at her over his shoulder.

“You comin’ darling?” he asked, opening the bathroom door widely while he waited for her response. She furrowed her brows, now sitting up and sliding off the bed herself. “Coming? but i - i never go in there with you matt…to respect your privacy.” she mumbles.

He raised a brow at her, “Yes well…i’d like for you to join me this time if you’d like.” he says, turning now to face her fully. Her position remained by his bed, hesitating. “I’ve made sure to make it clear that i wanted to be left alone for the night to everyone else — no one will bother us.” he reassured, holding his hand out in the air toward her.

She stared at him, and then to his hand — contemplating it. Sure they’ve never seen each other in less clothing before…but — she took a few steps forward. Was she comfortable with it? she knew matt wouldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to.

Before she could think anymore about it, she walked the rest of the way to him — slotting her hand in his. Matt smiled, tugging her into the bathroom with him and closing the door.

His hand slipped from hers as he made his way over to the tub, leaving her to stand over by the door. His hand dipped into the water — testing the temperature before he turned back to her. His eyes softened, “You know darling, you don’t have to stay — you can leave at any time.” He said, stepping close to her once more.

She could feel her cheeks heat up as his fingers brushed against her hand, his gaze gentle. But, she shook her head. “No…no i don’t want to leave — just…just we haven’t — you know..” she trailed off, and he understood what she was saying. “I know, but you won’t be judged baby…you never will be.” he assured, guiding her closer to the tub.

Her heart fluttered, and she nodded. He stepped back and turned away, giving her space to undress herself — just as he did the same. When she was finished, she stood there, not sure what to do. “Are you alright darling?” she heard matt ask from behind her. “Y-yeah..are you done?” she asked in return.

“Yes — may i turn around?” he whispered, but there was no push in his voice — he wanted to make sure she was okay with this. “Uhm — yeah..yeah you can.” she whispered back, feeling herself grow warm once more. She could hear matt’s feet move, and then the silence that followed. She started to grow nervous — there was only ever one other boy who saw her like this, but it felt different with matt.

His feet moved his body closer to her, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body against her back. With a hesitant hand, he placed it on her shoulder — gently turning her around to face him. When their eyes connected, she could see just how flustered he was himself. “You look so beautiful darling.” he said, his hand coming up to brush her hair over her shoulder.

She couldn’t keep her eyes on his, wanting to look anywhere but. Though, when her eyes accidentally flicked down — she quickly drew them back up, eyes widening. Matt chuckled slightly, “it’s okay baby, here c’mon.” he said, holding her hand and helping her step into the tub. He got in after, setting into the water behind her.

They finally slipped into the warm water together, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. She rested against him, her head tipping back to rest against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her back.

Though despite the warm water being soothing, she couldn’t help but feel as though someone might just walk in at any moment. She wasn’t supposed to be with him like this — they both knew the risks.

Matt ran his fingers through her hair, soothingly. “Just breathe-“ he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “-i promise you everything will be okay…no one is going to bother us.” and with that, she allowed herself to fully relax.

-

As the bathwater settled, darling was the one who stood up first, carefully stepping out and wrapping herself in a soft, plush towel. The warm fabric was comforting, yet nothing compared to the feeling of matts gaze lingering on her. She glanced back, catching Matt’s eyes on her, his expression thoughtful yet unmistakably captivated. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, but she held his gaze for a moment before looking away.

Matt rose next and stepped out of the tub, mirroring her actions as he wrapped a towel around himself. Together, they walked quietly to his room.

It all felt — not real — somehow. Here Darling was, wrapping in nothing but a towel in matt’s room — the princes room. All while he is in the exact same position. Taking a bath together was one of the first…intimate things they had done, besides kissing and touching and hugging.

Yes there were times that she would have non-innocent thoughts about matt, who wouldn’t? But she never acted on them — not even when she could. She could feel the pull between them — he wanted it too, Matt could feel it.

She stood there at the foot of his bed, her back facing him as he walked out of the bathroom. She clutched her towel close to her chest, not really knowing what to do.

Before she got too deep in thought — Matt came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You’re so beautiful darling, you know that right? i’ll keep telling you until you know.” he whispered, bringing his face down to slot between her neck and shoulder, pressing a few light kisses.

She let out a sigh, tipping her head back. They’ve never gone further than some daring touches here and there — always being too busy or not having any privacy. It’s not like she didn’t want to go further — she did, but she was nervous. Should she stop him?…or does she want to continue?

Matt’s lips continued to pepper kisses along her shoulder, moving closer to her neck. She hummed — it’s now or never. Quickly, she turned herself around in his grasp, bringing her hands away from her towel and letting her arms wrap around his neck. Her towel now falling and pooling around her feet.

Matt’s breath caught, glancing down at her now exposed body — as if he didn’t see it a little bit ago. His hands found her hips, squeezing them as she leaned up to try and capture his lips with hers. But, leaned back — looking into her eyes now, and she pouted.

“Matt..” she whined softly, and he just shushed her. “Are you sure you wanna go further?” he whispered, groaning softly as she leaned forward and placed a small kiss on his collarbone. She nodded, “Please..we may never get another chance and — i’m ready, i want you baby..” she said, her words muffled against his skin as she continued to press her lips to him.

“Fuck darling…okay-“ he cut himself off with another groan, her teeth nipping his skin. She’s never heard him swear — and it made heat pool in her stomach — she wanted to hear it more.

She leaned away, looking up at him through her lashes. She wasn’t nervous anymore — no — she was excited. Matt looked down at her, smiling as his hands left her hips, tugging the towel free from around his waist and letting it drop to the floor as well.

Immediately, her eyes looked down — admiring how he looked, not getting a chance to earlier due to her nerves. And she gasped softly as she took him in..he was beautiful. Matt smirked at her expression, placing his hands on her hips again which snapped her from his thoughts. Slowly, he started walking her backwards until he had her laying on his bed underneath him. Darlings back hit the mattress with a soft thud, her eyes beaming up at Matt.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips — it was soft and affectionate but full of passion. She whimpered into his mouth, her hands coming up to tangle into his locks of hair, tugging softly. Matt smiled, moving away slowly to trail kisses down her neck and between the valley of her breasts. His eyes peering up at her, asking for permission, her eyes were already looking down at him and she nodded.

With that, he moved his mouth to the right — pressing tender kisses to her breast before taking her nipple into his warm mouth, his eyes closing. She moaned at the sensation, her hands gripping his hair tighter as he swirled his tongue around her nub. “Ah - Matt..” she moaned breathlessly, pushing his head closer to her — like she couldn’t get enough.

His eyes opened, pulling away with a soft pop, “Yeah darling?” his voice was rough now — the sound making her shudder. “P-please..need you..”

And — how could he ever say no to her? He hummed moving down the bed more as he continued to look at her. “Don’t worry baby..we’ll get there soon. Jus’ let me make you feel good, yeah?” he said, his hands being placed on her thighs before spreading them wider than they were before.

She whined, nodding her head in agreement. His stomach laid flat against the sheets, the hands on her thighs hiking her legs over his shoulders. “M-matt?.. oh-“ before she could say anything more, his mouth attached itself to her pussy — his lips wrapping around her clit, sucking softly as a free hand came up to run through her wet folds.

He groaned as her wetness coated his fingers, the vibrations making her moan louder than she intended to. Matt’s fingers teased her entrance as his tongue started to swirl patterns on her bundle of nerves.

Darlings fingers tugged at his locks, pulling his face deeper onto her. “Please..p-please” she muttered — she doesn’t know what she was asking for, but Matt seemed to have gotten the memo. His fingers stopping their teasing as he slowly slipped one in — her hips rocking forward.

Matt continued his ministrations, moving his fingers at the right pace — curling them to hit that sponged spot inside her walls. Her legs closed around his head — grinding against his mouth and fingers. “Baby..” she moaned in a warning, the pressure building slowly in her lower stomach.

Matt smirked, slowing down his tongue and fingers before stopping completely — pulling himself away despite the hold she had on him. She whimpered at the loss of contact, trying to pull him back. “W-wait..no-“ she started, but he cut her off softly.

“Shh darling, gonna give you what you want now, yeah?” he said, moving himself onto his knees — looking down at her. And — she looked absolutely breathtaking. Her hair sprawled around her and disheveled, her face flushed and dazed — she was so beautiful.

He leaned down, hovering himself above her. One hand being place by her head on the pillow as his other grabbed her leg softly, bringing it up to rest against his hip. “So pretty my love.” he whispered, and her face flushed more.

Matt leaned up again, taking the hand by her head and reaching down — grabbing his hard cock. He lined it up to her entrance, looking up at her once more. “Are you positive darling? If it gets to be too much we can stop at any point okay? all y’gotta do it tell me.” he said, wanting to be absolutely sure this is what she wanted.

“I’m sure…i want this — i want you-“ she started, reaching her hands up to rest against his chest. “-go slow please.” she whispered, and he smiled. “Of course.” he said, leaning back down to capture her lips in another soft kiss. His hips moving forward at the same time — pushing past her wet folds.

Darling gasped, the sound turning into a breathy moan against his lips. “Ah-“ she breathed, her hands moving to his back, nails digging into the flesh. “Fuck..doin’ so good darling — so good for me.” he moaned as he pulled away, pushing slowly until he fully bottomed out.

When he did, He stopped, waiting until she could tell him it was okay to move. When her glassy eyes looked at him and she nodded — he started to move, grunting at the way her walls sucked him in. He stayed close to her — his breath fanning over her face in pants as her did the same.

“s’good…feels s’good Matt.” she whined, digging her nails deeper into his flesh. He nodded, bringing his face to her neck. “Y-yeah?-“ he moaned as her walls squeezed him. “y’feel so good darling, so pretty baby — s-so good f’me.” he praised, his hips keeping their slow pace as she requested.

The pleasure coursing through her body was unimaginable..it felt so — good. He was gentle, making sure to not hurt her — he wanted this to be good for her. Eventually, the slow pace wasn’t enough.

“Matt — baby please, move — move faster.” she panted against his shoulder. Pulling away from her neck, his hips picked up pace — not too hard but just enough. The new speed made her head tip back against the pillow, sparks flying up her spine. Her mouth agape as little sounds escaped — Matt’s hands holing her close to him as he continued to move his hips.

“C’mere darling i-“ he muttered, reaching a hand up to her face and tilting it back to his. His lips crashing against hers — desperate, hot, and sweet. She returned the kiss, the knot in her lower abdomen from earlier returning as she panted into his mouth.

Pulling away, she whined — hugging Matt closer to her. “Matt — m’gonna..gonna cum — please..” and he nodded. “Me too darling…where — where should i?..” he groaned, his release fast approaching.

“In me, s’okay p-promise!-“ she squeaked at a particular thrust of his hips, her head throwing back, his tip grazing the spot inside her. Tears started to spill over her waterline — but they weren’t bad — they were good.

She babbled incoherent words, looking back at him as she grabbed his face and kissed him again. “Shit — Matt…coming, ha-“ and the band snapped, her release rippling through her body as she mewled. Her lips still attached to his, kissing him like her life line. “Love you, love you, love you.” she chanted over and over again.

The words seemed to trigger Matt, his teeth nipping her bottom lip as his hips stilled — spilling himself inside her with a moan. “I - love you too.” he moaned, pumping himself inside her until he came to a stop, his lips detaching from hers after he kissed her one last time.

Their breathing was ragged, bodies sweaty as Matt’s forehead rested against hers. After a moment, he moved, slipping free from her and rolling to the side. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to himself — pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Did so good baby..so proud of you.” he whispered, and she smiled through the haze, muttering a ‘thank you’ as she started to grow tired.

Matt noticed, smiling down at her as he slowly got up from the bed — moving to the bathroom as he grabbed a warm rag and some fresh clothes of his own to slip on her. Slipping back into the room, he made his way over to her and cleaned her up. Slowly moving the rag against her sensitive core, making sure she was clean.

He helped her into his clothes, slipping back into bed beside her — tucking her against his chest. She was almost asleep, her chest rising and falling with soft breaths.

“I love you so much.” was the last thing she heard from him before she drifted off to sleep.

© strnilolover

IM SO SORRY IF THIS SEEMS RUSHED. ITS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR A GOOD WEEK CAUSE MY BRAIN BLANKED WHEN WRITING IT BUT HERE YOU GUYS GO <3

[alloftheimaginesblog]

ready (klaus mikaelson)

plot: klaus always knew that one day you'd take him up on his offer.

character: female vampire reader x klaus mikaelson

inspired by something similar he says to caroline

"One day, love, you'll come to me. Might be in two years, might be two hundred but mark my words, you'll realise I was right along. I am the only one who can fulfil your wildest desires and your largest dreams. When you realise that, you'll come knocking on my door and then... well, love, then I'll give you the world."

It had been three and a half years since Klaus Mikaelson had said this to you. Three long years. He'd came into your life as a villain, you were supposed to hate him. He had killed, harmed and tortured so many of your friends (and his sister had tortured you a fair few times) and yet, he was always so delicate and gentle with you. He'd been interested in you pretty much ever since he came to Mystic Falls. You'd hated him... or at least, you tried.

He had gotten under your skin all of those years ago. He'd saved you too many times to count. He had shown you kindness and compassion, had recognised you for who you were; Klaus had seen you. You'd gotten to see a glimpse of the human side to him, not the scary big bad wolf, you'd started to see him. And when he left, with an invite extended your way, it took everything in you to say no.

Klaus hadn't stepped foot in Mystic Falls since he left and yet, every few months or so, he would write to you. Seldom did you respond but you enjoyed reading about his travels. Each time he wrote, he would send photos of the new place he was visiting usually with a list of reasons as to why you'd love it there with drawings he'd done and every single time he wrote, he attached a plane ticket to whatever destination with your name on it. You never used them, instead they gathered dust in a drawer which was full of his old letters. Klaus also always wrote exactly where he was staying at the end of the letter so you knew exactly how to get to him. Periodically, you'd go through and read some of them. They always smelled like him and had the same send off each time.

'Unequivocally yours, Klaus'

You knew that if you needed him, he would be there immediately. He had promised you as such. And the one time you called for help when Caroline got bit by a werewolf, Klaus couldn't be there in person but he sent Elijah with a few vials of his blood (extras for any future emergencies). He would do anything for you and all he wanted was the chance to show you as such.

So when this month's letter arrived with details of his new adventure complete with a plane ticket to Italy, you decided to take the chance you'd regretted not taking three and a half years prior. Your friends were oddly supportive which surprised you but Bonnie had told you she wanted you to be happy and if he's what made you happy then so be it. Damon wasn't impressed but he rarely ever was. Stefan urged you to your happy ending. Caroline approved, she'd seen the way Klaus would've done anything for you so even though she didn't like him, she knew that he was the real deal. Elena was supportive, she'd gone for the 'bad guy' in Damon so she understood the inner conflict and told you that it was okay to let yourself be happy.

So, you packed a bag and headed to Italy.

Getting there was the easy bit; the hard bit was finding the courage to knock on the front door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stood on the grounds of what you could only describe as a small castle. It was beautiful, with glorious gardens and fragrant flowers. You swallowed hard before taking a breath, this is what you came for, and you knocked three times.

After a few seconds, you could hear someone's voice approaching. Klaus.

"-I didn't ask you to go to such lengths, brother, though I have to say I do appreciate it-"

He opened the door and his expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete shock.

"Elijah, more important matters have emerged, I'll speak to you later." He hung up, pocketing his phone quickly. He looked good. The Italian sun suited him, turning his hair a shade blonder and making his blue eyes pop, "(y/n)..." A slow, wide smile spread onto his face.

You swallowed hard, "Hi, Klaus."

He stepped aside, silently inviting you into his castle, and with a small smile you breezed past him. He closed the door and led you through to a grand room with various couches and paintings. You looked around incredulously, "This place... it's incredible."

Klaus smiled, "I told you that you'd like this one."

You looked at him and felt nerves bubble in your stomach. You'd came all this way and now... you didn't know what to do. Klaus eyed you curiously, trying to gauge how you were feeling, "Do you need something?" Oh, how he hoped that you were here for him but he had to be sure.

You shook your head, finding words too hard to find, and instead looked back to the paintings, "These are beautiful, did you do these?"

Klaus appeared at your side, making you jump slightly, "Sorry, love," he smirked. He was so close to you, so near that you could smell his cologne. Your heart raced. His hand reached out past you to touch the painting, "I painted all of these, yes. This one is my favourite."

"The colours are lovely," you nodded.

Klaus smiled, quickly vanishing and then returning to your side, "Here, look in the mirror and then look at the painting."

You frowned at him but complied regardless of your confusion. He handed you a small hand mirror which you looked into and then at the painting, "I don't get it," you said to which he urged you to look again and then you realised, "my eyes."

Klaus grinned, "There we go, love," he beamed proudly, "my favourite colours and shades to use. They crop up a lot in my paintings. Go, look," he encouraged you forwards, "take a look and you'll see how often you feature in my paintings."

For a moment, you walked around the room, soaking in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints of your eye colour in every single one of his paintings. It touched you causing you to feel warm inside and you couldn't understand why. You looked at him. He stood on the other side of the room watching you with awe filled eyes, "But why?" You asked softly with tears filling your eyes, "Why me?"

In an instant, he was in front of you, chest touching yours, with his eyes locked with yours, "Oh, love," he whispered, hand reaching out to graze your cheek softly, "It's always been you."

You looked up at him, "You asked me if I needed something earlier." Klaus's brow furrowed and his hand stilled - fear; fear that you weren't here for him, fear that you needed something and then you'd disappear again. "I do need something, Klaus."

"Anything."

"I want... I need you." Your admission was quiet but he heard you loud and clear, "For years, I've regretted saying no to your offer to come with you. I want to live, Klaus. I want to be free. I want to be happy and that means letting myself be happy with... you."

"Me?" Klaus asked.

You nodded as your own hand found its way to rest on his chest, "I'm ready to fall in love with you, Klaus. I just hope I'm not too late."

He grinned, wider than you'd ever seen him smile, "You're right on time, love," he said before his lips crashed to yours. And for the first time ever, you let yourself give in.

[astrobuggy]

I really want Lunar to find stuff about himself now that he is living alone

For example(s):

□ They start to actually express themselves willingly now that they know nobody's in their vicinity that they could accidentally harm

■ Lunar starts to actually enjoy living by himself. Finding that there are benefits to it (he can finally have a whole room to nutella without being judged 😤🙌)

□ He finds a job he actually enjoys and is excited to go into whenever the hour comes

- Like an organization that helps teens (I saw this in a post, and I love that idea heavy!) with problems like emotions or family problems. And he's actually so happy to be there since now he can freely express himself since they aren't kids (exactly kids)

- Or Lunar opens up a small business that becomes a local store that the community he's built it around knows him and his store immediately whenever it's mentioned. Like a flower shop! Lunar does have nature powers at this point. Plus, it'd be such a great way to practice his powers

- Combined idea >:D! Lunar opens up a flower shop as a side hussle while his main job is the organization. And during his working hours at the shop, the teens he looks after come around his shop and just hang out with him there. Assisting him with the workload the shop provides. Lunar teaches them how to plant and take care of plants. Lunar does actually pay them a decent amount for the work they help him out with (I kinda see the business booming since Lunar can literally create flowers and change its colors willingly, only if the plant wants to). They come around so often that Lunar made them a hangout area at the back of the store. They appreciate it heavily (they try not to give Lunar such a hard time as payment)

■ Lunar finds a group of friends outside of the pizzaplex (FINALLY 😭🙏)

□ He starts to actually have a hygiene cycle. Lunar finds out he enjoys baths over showers. He finds bubble baths and bath bombs very enjoyable and fun to play with. And now he smells like vanilla with a mix of blueberries

■ They find hobbies other than gaming and watching shows (or nutella commercials 😐) Like gardening or even baking (shit, maybe even drawing, like how he used to during 2022)

I just need Lunar to be happy during this arc. PLEASE 😭🙏🙏 Ik I ain't getting that with the shit he's dealing (the astrals)

[hannahbarberra162]

A Negative Outcome, Part 3

On Ao3

Summary: the aftermath

TW: panic attack, whump, mentions of post-strangulation

Your POV

You came to slowly, curled up in a ball by yourself in Thatch’s gigantic bed. You wished he was still with you but given how busy he always was, he was likely needed elsewhere on the ship. Taking stock of your aching body, you determined that Marco hadn’t been in to see you yet. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you fell asleep in Thatch’s lap but it couldn’t have been too long since you figured Marco would want to transfer you to the infirmary and attend to your injuries as soon as he was able. You tried rolling your head on your stiff shoulders, quickly determining that it had been a mistake to try. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and your neck hurt to move in any direction. It wasn’t broken, but it sure felt like it was. There was no part of your body that didn’t ache or hurt in some way and you just wished you could go back to sleep.

Sniffling, you cracked open your eyes to see if the light was still coming through the porthole window. Fluttering your lashes open, you saw the moon shining through the small window, shining a patch of moonlight onto the bed. You heard voices getting louder as they approached the room. Listening in, you already knew who they belonged to.

“ - hurt, physically. She’s sleeping right now, maybe let her rest?”

“I can’t, I need to examine her. Otherwise I would,” you heard Marco say, almost remorsefully. You shivered at his voice, not wanting him to get any closer to the room. He had saved your life, you were in his debt for that. But the only reason he’d had to save your life was because he kidnapped you in the first place. He only saved you because he  still needed your blood, it wasn’t exactly altruistic. You shut your eyes again, willing Thatch to win the argument and for Marco to let you be. Of course, like always, you didn’t get your way when it came to Marco. The creak of the door and clomping of boots alerted you that the men were in the room, the footfalls drawing closer and closer. Thatch’s warm, calloused hand rubbed between your shoulder blades where they poked out on top of the blanket.

“Hey Sweets, wake up for me? Marco needs to check on you,” Thatch said softly, the bed dipping where he sat down near you. You rumbled from your throat, unwilling to express any words from your sore throat. Rolling over in the bed, you saw Marco’s pinched face staring down at you from across the small room as he lit some of the lamps along the wall. In some small way, you were glad that you couldn’t talk so you didn’t have to say anything to the doctor. Propelling himself forward, Marco’s flames flicked along his skin as he sat on your other side, sandwiching you between himself and Thatch. He tugged on the hem of your shirt, something he’d done many times before to assess you.

“Up,” he said in a simple command. Thatch’s face soured immediately as you crossed your arms to pull the shirt above your head.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Thatch snapped at Marco, anger evident in his furrowed brow. You glanced at Thatch, uncertainty keeping your hands in place from removing your shirt. Marco raised an unamused eyebrow, not used to sharp words from his brother. Thatch sighed and apologized, “sorry, I didn’t mean to…just, try to be more sensitive, yeah? She’s been through a lot.” He moved a few feet back, giving Marco a little more space to work.

You didn’t want to be in the middle of an argument between two Commanders, so you lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra. It didn’t embarrass you that Marco was seeing you like this - he’d seen it hundreds of times already. But Thatch’s reddened face made you acutely aware of your relative nudity, bringing a matching blush to your cheeks. You stared at a spot of blood you’d left on Thatch’s comforter as Marco reached for you, causing you to flinch back. 

“Hey, it’s alright, it's just Marco,” Thatch said, rubbing a soothing circle on your bare back. You nodded sullenly, allowing Marco to move your head where he wanted so he could see your neck. You weren’t sure exactly what the parameters of his powers were, but Marco looked tired in the low light of the lamps, his heavy lidded eyes looking like they would close any moment. Your feelings towards him had complicated significantly now that he’d saved your life. But he’d also put you into the position that your life needed saving, so you weren’t all that sympathetic to his exhaustion. 

“Why don’t you just, y’know, heal her?” Thatch asked, watching Marco tilt your head. You were used to Marco manhandling you but you wanted nothing more than to push him away and scoot backwards into Thatch’s lap again.

“Can’t do too much right now. Teach was a lot stronger than he let on. A lot stronger. Pops had to get involved to…end the issue. I don’t have excess energy at the moment yoi. After I sleep and eat, I’ll be able to. She’s not going to have a stroke and doesn’t have brain damage, those are the main things to watch out for. I can do a little right now but everything else will heal with time or when I get to it tomorrow,” Marco said, speaking to Thatch rather than to you. You felt like...well, how you always did when Marco was in his clinician element. Like you were a tool he needed to keep in working order rather than an actual person.

“Can you swallow?” Marco asked, finally addressing you. You wobbled your head in a “so - so” movement with a small frown. “Talk?” 

“Hurts,” you stated in a hoarse whisper.

Marco hummed, touching the front of your neck, his long fingers wrapping around the side to palpate the bruised tissue. You started breathing faster, the sensation of something enclosing around your throat so familiar, so close to what had just happened. You tried to close your eyes and calm down but you couldn’t get a breath in anymore, your airway was cut off, you couldn’t breathe, it was happening again, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t see, you felt like you were dying - someone picked you up and set you back down a moment later. You struggled to get away, pushing at the arms that were holding you tightly against a burly chest. If you stopped struggling, you’d be killed, you had to get away you had to.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhhh. Hey, it’s alright, you’re here with us, don’t cry, it’s just me and Marco. Just Marco and Thatch, you know us, right Sugar? It’s OK, you’re safe, you’re fine, shhhh, it’s ok…”

Marco POV

Marco watched you clutch onto Thatch’s chef’s coat like it was a lifeline, the cook soothing you as you shook and sobbed in his arms. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s intention but watching you be comforted by Thatch made Marco feel even worse than he already did. He was tired physically, the fight with Teach taking a significantly longer amount of time and effort than he’d anticipated. Marco had to involve several of his brothers and even Pops to finish off Teach. He was glad for it - whatever his former brother had been planning was maniacal, Marco was sure of it. He hadn’t had to fight that hard in a long time, maybe since the Roger Pirates. So he didn’t have much in him to help you physically right now, though he wished he could. He’d already had to heal many of his brothers, himself many times over, and all that after heavy fighting. 

Marco saw you taking deep breaths at Thatch’s urging, the Commander hugging you tightly and stroking your hair as you sat in his lap, tears still freely falling. You were going to be alright physically, even though you looked gruesome. Teach’s strangulation had popped the blood vessels in your eyes and there was a large amount of petechiae dotting your face from your forehead down to your cheeks. Your neck was bruised and swollen, it needed icing every half hour if he didn't heal it. He wanted to heal you as much as he could then collapse face down in his bed and forget everything to do with you.

Marco held himself back when dealing with you, he knew you didn’t like him. And why would you? He’d tricked you, brought you to the ship, basically enslaved you, and kept you as a living source of blood for a powerful stranger. He’d justified it to himself many times - that you’d practically saved Pops’s life, that they needed you, that you’d built an immunity to so many diseases that it only made sense to keep you, that maybe you would only be with them temporarily. But when he tossed and turned in his bed late at night thinking of you sitting forlornly on the chair as your blood was taken, your vacant eyes staring off into the void, he knew there was no justification. He’d never tell you, but he didn’t like seeing you just as much as you didn’t like seeing him. You were a constant reminder of his failing, of his lapse in moral judgment. He was just as trapped as you were in the choices that he’d made. If he could make Pops better by himself and drop you back on your home island, he would in an instant. 

But he couldn’t.

Most of all, Marco hated seeing you flinch away from him every time he was about to touch you. As a doctor, Marco was used to people welcoming his presence, seeking him out when they were ill or sick, or simply not feeling their best. His healing hands were an immense source of pride, almost as much as his beautiful feathered form. Every time you shrank back from him as he reached for you, a small part of him died. He wondered sometimes if it was his humanity, the part of him that prevented him from turning into one of those pirates. Sure, he’d killed many people over the course of his career as a Commander but it was always in self defense or to protect others. He’d never done anything as blatantly immoral as kidnap a civilian and keep them against their will while using their body for his own needs. There wasn’t really any other way to cut it - it was wrong. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to use you, he needed your blood for his Captain, his father.

And now he’d fucked up - again. He’d told you that as long as you followed his rules and lived within the confines he’d set for you that you’d be protected. That you’d be safe. That you’d learn to like living with them on their pirate ship. It wasn’t his fault Teach was a traitor but it wasn’t yours either - it was an unfortunate series of events that almost culminated in your death. Marco looked at your small body being cradled by Thatch’s larger one as he coaxed you into calming down. He almost felt like he was intruding on a private scene, something so tender and intimate that it wasn’t meant for the eyes of others. He wasn’t sure if Thatch remembered he was in the room anymore with how absorbed he was with you. Marco cleared his throat and locked eyes as his brother continued to pat your back and rock you.

Thatch himself was looking worse for the wear too. After he’d quickly swept you away to safety and gotten you to sleep, he’d cooked a massive amount of food to feed the hungry troops. There were strong feelings of betrayal and anger coursing through the crew and adding hunger to the mix would have been cause for upheaval. He’d whipped up a veritable feast for everyone, trying to keep some of the negative feelings at bay at least until Pops filled everyone in with what had happened. After all that, he’d immediately returned to you, bumping into Marco on the way. The two Commanders were going to have to rest soon, he just needed to wrap things up with you quickly.

“I’m going to try healing her throat but that’s about all I can do right now yoi,” Marco said to his brother. You didn’t acknowledge that Marco had spoken, still clinging to Thatch, who nodded. 

“Honey, Marco’s coming back over here to help you a little more. Let’s put a clean shirt on, yeah? The one from before is too dirty I think,” Thatch signaled for Marco to bring him a shirt from his own drawers. Marco walked over to the dresser and quickly sorted for one of the chef’s smaller shirts, handing it over to Thatch. Thatch dressed you like you were a doll, putting your arms through the holes as the large shirt engulfed your smaller form.

“Sit pretty like I know you can, yeah? Just for a moment, just for a tiny moment then Marco’ll be done, he’s gonna help you then you can be done for the night, we can go back to sleep if you want, just one little thing more, you can do that right?” Thatch murmured endlessly to you, turning you around gently in his lap so you were facing outward. Marco advanced slowly, giving you time to adjust to his presence. You tried to turn back into Thatch’s chest but he held you facing forward gently, trying to keep you from panicking while also keeping you in position for Marco. Marco half wished that Thatch was always around when he needed you, this was easier on both of you than having to do it himself. 

“Let Marco help you, Sweets. Just one last thing from him and you’re done, lift your chin, there you go, I’ll help you, see - it’s not so bad. C’mon after this, we can get a treat from the kitchens together, I’ll make us special tea -” Thatch kept up the one sided dialogue as he used his fingers to keep your chin raised so Marco could access your throat. You were whimpering but not overtly struggling against Thatch’s hold so Marco seized the moment and quickly put his hand against your swollen throat. He was able to produce a small amount of healing flame, enough to decrease the swelling so you’d be able to talk and swallow. After he released his hand Thatch did too and allowed you to curl into a ball in his lap. 

“All done, I’m so proud of you, you did so well, you’re looking better already. Do you want me to get tea for us? Bring it back here?” You nodded your head slightly with your eyes closed and Thatch kissed the top of your head. If Marco was less exhausted he might have something to say about it but for right now, Thatch could have stuck his tongue down your throat and Marco wouldn’t care. Marco left the Commander’s room but stuck around outside the door, waiting for his brother to exit.

“Thank you for taking care of her. Someone’s going to have to stay with her for the next day or so around the clock just to make sure no other complications arise yoi. I know you’re tired, I’ll ask Deuce to come and relieve you. She’s not going to want to stay in her room but maybe the two of them can borrow mine - I can sleep in hers or in the infirmary,” Marco was rambling his thoughts out loud, trying to coordinate everything quickly. Thatch put his warm hand on Marco’s shoulder with a soft smile.

“She can stay in my room, I don’t mind. I’ll bring her to the kitchens with me tomorrow morning, she can help. Go sleep, Marco. I left food for you in your room, not sure if it’s still hot though. Everything is fine, I’ll see you in the morning,” Thatch replied, pulling Marco into a bear hug. Marco leaned his head against his brother’s shoulder, grateful for the emotional support. Today had been rough and he didn’t want to think about tomorrow. 

Your POV

You sat on the counter of the main kitchen, dangling your legs as Thatch and the Fourth Division bustled all around you. He had brought you to work with him that morning and assigned you small tasks like cracking eggs or stirring bowls. You knew his division could handle this all easily and he was giving you busy work but you honestly didn’t mind. After you’d seen Marco the previous night, Thatch had made you chamomile tea and brought you sleeping medicine. You’d taken both and were in a deep dreamless sleep within fifteen minutes, cuddled up next to him in his bed, his large arm bringing you a sense of security and safety. It was warm, cozy, and like the chef, smelled faintly of mint and oregano. You could have stayed in that bed for the rest of your life but unfortunately that wasn’t the plan that Thatch laid out for you.

“Here, try this, Angel Cake,” Thatch said, raising a forkful of quiche to your mouth. You smiled at the stupid name and opened your mouth, accepting the delicious food easily. He’d been back to his antics the whole morning, calling you silly pet names while feeding you bite by bite. It was the most you’d eaten in a while, now that you’d thought about it. Your throat didn’t hurt as much as yesterday but you didn’t feel like talking, so you’d been silent as Thatch took care of you. 

You wanted to find some way to thank him for everything he’d done for you. You knew it wasn’t his job to take care of you or to make sure you were ok, that you were really Marco’s responsibility. You appreciated Thatch’s attention and effort, it almost felt like someone actually cared about you. You weren’t naive enough to think that it was completely sincere, you knew that they just needed your blood to take care of their Captain and that it wouldn’t do to have you comatose. Still, having the Chef hand feed you warm food wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to you on the ship.

You had just finished taking a bite of a still-warm chocolate chip scone when you saw the tell tale puff of blond hair that signaled Marco had entered the kitchen. You instinctively stiffened and for Thatch’s iconic hairdo in the kitchens. He was too far away for you to get to before Marco reached you, so you stayed put, silently willing the chef to come to your aid. Marco approached you, his eyes assessing your damaged face and neck. The bags under his eyes had receded, you supposed he had rested during the time you had as well. 

“Let’s go. It’s time,” he said softly, reaching for your hand to help you off the counter. The scone in your mouth felt like lead as you swallowed. You looked at him with wide eyes, shaking your head rapidly. Where was Thatch? You tried to look beyond Marco for your friend but the Phoenix blocked your sight with his large body. You started breathing quickly, sure you knew what Marco was going to tell you. 

“I know you don't want to, but Pops is on a strict schedule. He’s getting medicine today so we need you, I’m sorry,” Marco said, almost apologetic. You shook your head repeatedly, pulling your feet up onto the counter. You weren’t going today. You weren’t. He couldn’t - how could he make you - you weren’t even recovered - no. No. No. Not today. Marco reached for you again and you pulled your arms further back, further away from the doctor, further away from the room and the blood and the screaming and the - 

“It’s not - ugh, come on ,” you heard Marco say as you jumped off the counter and ran as fast as you could down the narrow length of the kitchen. You didn’t care how he felt about you or how childish you were being. You couldn’t do it today you just couldn’t. Why didn’t he understand? Wasn’t he a doctor? Why couldn’t he give you even one goddamn day - at least just the morning - to relax and feel like an actual human instead of a living blood supply? 

You sprinted as fast as you could, your breath coming in short bursts as you tried to outrun the Commander. The kitchen crew were too absorbed in their own work to try and stop you before you'd pass their stations. You ran down the length of the kitchen, nearly reaching the door to the stairs when hot arms grabbed you around the middle and picked you up into the air. You tried going completely limp to get out of their hold but whoever it was wasn’t letting go. Looking up, you saw it was Ace, the second division Commander. You’d met him a few times when Deuce had been hanging out with you in the infirmary. He was alright, but you didn’t know him that well. 

“Whoa, easy there,” Ace said, frowning at you. You redoubled your efforts to get away now that Marco was nearly beside Ace, trying to elbow Ace in the stomach. “Oof, you’re wiggly. Reminds me of - ow! What the fuck!?” Ace exclaimed as you bit his bicep, nearly drawing blood. He wrestled you into an easier hold for himself, holding both of your wrists in one of his large hands. You were clawing, pushing, anything you could do to get away, like a wild animal snared in a trap.

“Can’t hurt that bad if you’re able to bite hard yoi. Thanks, Ace. Saved me the trouble of catching her. Enough. It’s time to go,” Marco said, taking your wrists from Ace. You tried yanking them away desperately but Marco had a tight grip on you. “Ace is going to put you down and you’re coming with me, yeah? I know it’s going to be a hard day, I know. It isn’t good for anyone that you need to donate blood today. But it needs to be done, Pops can’t wait another day or change his schedule,” Marco said. You weren’t sure who he was talking to - his words certainly didn’t make you feel any better. A retort was on your mind, though not your lips, as you were interrupted by Ace.

“Eh, I don’t know Marco, she seems kinda off,” Ace said, not releasing you to the ground yet. You were still trying to get out of his grasp but the Commander was holding firm.

“Yeah. But Pops -”

“Don’t make her go today,” you heard Thatch say from behind Marco. He wasn’t yelling but his loud voice was rife with displeasure. Marco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“She has to. You can’t just stop chemo -”

“Just one day off, Marco. She nearly died yesterday. Have a heart, look at her,” argued the Chef. You hoped Thatch’s words reached Marco but you were familiar with how Marco operated. He wasn’t going to change his mind for anyone or anything. He was going to say that a day without giving blood would “set a bad precedent,” which is what he told you when you’d asked for your birthday off. Marco looked you up and down with an assessing gaze. 

“No. I’m sorry, I can’t. Don’t make it worse than it already is,” Marco said as Ace put you on the ground. You took a deep breath in order to try to run again but were quickly thrown over Marco’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You pleaded at Thatch with your eyes, the chef returning your sad stare with a twisted frown.

“Shelby and Rory - take over lunch. I’ll be back for dinner service,” Thatch yelled over his shoulder, taking off his apron. Your eyes widened as he unbuttoned his chef’s coat, leaving him in casual clothes. “I’m coming with, Sugar Pie, don’t you worry,” he said with a smile, giving his hands a final wipe off on his discarded jacket. He reached for you and you extended your arms so he could lift you off Marco’s shoulder with ease. Marco sighed again but you didn’t care about his feelings on the matter. 

“You wanna walk or you want me to carry you?” Thatch asked, bouncing you in his arms like a small child. You wiggled until he set you down, but kept your smaller hand in his as the two of you walked to the infirmary. You twined your fingers between his, enjoying the comforting squeeze the chef gave.

Marco POV

Marco was grateful Thatch had diffused the situation earlier that day and stayed with you for as long as he did. It ended up being 4 hours of you sitting on his lap under a blanket in the chair as he talked to you and told you stories. You still hadn’t said anything but the chef had been able to coax a small giggle out of you a few times as he whispered into your ear. Marco had known Thatch a long time and the lingering touches and glances clued Marco in to Thatch’s infatuation with you. It was also understandable that Thatch wasn’t pushing you given the circumstances, only giving you kisses on the crown of your head, forehead, and hand. The blush that rose in your cheeks when he did suggested your own interest. Marco wasn’t going to butt in as long as the budding romance didn’t interfere with your blood donation schedule. After Thatch had left, you’d deflated a little, content to watch the sea outside the small port side window.

Marco had come back to take the needle out after your final donation of the day and heal you. You were surprisingly calm given the tumultuousness of getting you into the chair and the IV in your arm. You didn’t speak as you watched him, almost detached, remove the needle and begin the healing process.

“I’m, ah, sorry for this. It really was necessary,” Marco began. He felt the need to apologize to you even though he knew it wouldn’t change anything between the two of you. You shrugged, not looking at him. “Pops needs - it has to do with the medicine he gets, how often it needs to be given. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have - I would have let you rest today.” You didn’t even spare Marco a glance as he finished healing you and replenishing your platelets. “I know you don’t like me -”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, Marco,” you said quietly, still gazing off at the endless sea. Marco was surprised to hear you speak for the first time since the murder attempt but was eager to hear what you had to say. Maybe you finally understood his perspective, or had at least given it some thought.

“I fucking hate you.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 14

Hey guys! Welcome back! So this chapter is getting a little heavy on the angsty side, so just a heads up.

Things have been going great for all the stories especially the Christmas one.

This will be the story that keeps its usual schedule next week. Every other posting day will be finishing up the Olympic Swimmer one. So be on the look out for that.

Also super long chapter!

Steve tries out some hobbies, Joyce pushes, and Steve gets depressed.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Steve would like to say he got right on the job search the next day, but he really didn’t. He woke up refreshed and feeling good about himself. After a run on the treadmill and big breakfast he had already talked himself out needing to.

But instead he decided that he wanted to learn new hobbies. He had the money and pretty much unlimited time so why not?

The first thing he tried felting. Yeah, he had a lot of money, but he wanted to start with something cheap in case he got bored with it.

Taking the kit out of the box, he already ran into a problem. The leather finger gloves were much too small. Like he didn’t have fat fingers or anything but they were much too tight to fit on even his pinkie fingers he turned them inside out to see if he could make them bigger somehow.

He only succeeded in ruining the finger gloves. He tried rubber thimbles as replacements but still the sharp tool would pierce even the tough rubber.

The kit sat abandoned in a corner of his hotel room until one of the porters saw it and asked if he could have it. His sister did the felting all the time and she was having trouble finding colors she liked.

So Steve let him have it. Three days later the porter came back with a bright yellow canary and a female robin. He proudly displayed them on his nightstand next to the phone and alarm clock.

Robin loved them, but refused to take the robin. She said they shouldn’t be separated at any price.

Steve loved her a little bit more when she said that.

The next thing he tried was painting.

That lasted all of six hours before they got handed off to Will. It was a beautiful oil, acrylic, and water color set, with all the paint brushes and pallet and metal wood-handled pallet knives.

It lasted that long was because that was the time it took for Steve to set everything up, including an old sheet Rosa let him have, start painting and promptly knock everything over. The water, the paints, the easel. Everything. He broke the easel, knocked a hole in the canvas, and smeared paint all over the apron he had bought just for the occasion.

Will was happy to receive the paints, but in turn he gave Steve a simple notepad and pencil and taught him how to draw.

Steve liked that.

It was just for doodling and making silly pictures so it didn’t make him feel like a failure. He went to the bookstore and bought a bunch of books on how to draw certain things. Animals, the human figure. He even found this great reference book on clothes sorted based on the English monarch who was in power at the time the were wore.

Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

One day while he was over at Will’s talking art and whether or not kneaded erasers were worth the pain they caused if you dropped, Ellie introduced him to a new hobby. Will was against the things, Steve was for.

Jonathan huffed, “That’s probably a class issue as Steve here can afford to replace them and Will can’t.”

Steve and Will stared at each other in complete shock, but had to admit that Jonathan was probably right.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve huffed, “that’s fair. I guess I really didn’t think about it because it’s not my money I’m spending.”

“Have you tried looking for a job?” Joyce asked. She didn’t like that someone was paying to keep Steve safe. As nice as it was, in her experience the well tended to dry up when you least expected it to.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Byers.” Which he had. Yes, he had been focused on trying to learn things that would keep his mind from atrophying, he had also been looking. “If they seen me coming they take down the sign or if they don’t get to it in time, they say it’s an old sign and that they forgot to take it down.”

Joyce’s shoulders slumped in sympathy. The rumor around town is that because Mr. Harrington was the landlord for a lot of the properties that the businesses were on, he had threatened to raise their rent if they gave Steve a job.

Something that all the adults promised not to tell Steve so that he wouldn’t get so discouraged as to not try at all.

But surely Clint Harrington didn’t own every business in Hawkins and she told Steve so.

“No,” Steve huffed. “But he’s friends with ones that he doesn’t. I’m going to try the mall next. Most of the them are franchises and have their main bosses outside of Hawkins.”

She let out a little sigh of relief. It showed that Steve was trying and actively thinking of these types of pitfalls.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “What have you got there, Ellie?” he asked trying to shift the focus off of him for a moment.

Joyce was watching Ellie while Hopper was at work.

The young girl held up long satin strings of embroidery thread. She had three shades of pink, a white, and a red. She tied the ends to a safety pin that was pinned her leg.

“I’m making friendship bracelets for me and Max,” Ellie said proudly. “The pink is for me, and then I have these colors for her!” She held up blues and purples.

“That’s way cool!” Steve said scooting over to sit next to her.

Jonathan and Will shared a smile. Steve was lost to the shiny allure of friendship bracelets.

“I could teach you if you like,” she said with a smile. “I also have boondoggle!” She held up shiny plastic strips. “I make key chains and other things that need to last a lot longer than the thread.”

Steve really lit up, but then frowned when he saw out intricate it all was. “I’ll never be do anything that fancy.”

Ellie sat closer and pulled out a little paper that she had in her caboodle. “I couldn’t at first either, so I went to the library and took out a book on all the different ways you could plait and how to do boondoggle. Then I copied a couple of the pages I wanted to try.”

She handed it to him and pointed to the easiest. “That’s the one I started with and it will probably take a little bit to get the spacing right.”

Steve tilted his head. “Is this like braiding hair?”

“Yes!” Ellie said excitedly. “That’s right. I forgot you braid Max’s hair all the time. So then it will be easy for you.”

Soon they were off in their own little world.

Joyce watched with her arms crossed and a concerned expression. Jonathan spotted her and shook his head. He stood up and went to stand next to her.

“You’ve got to let it go, Mom,” he said gently. “You aren’t his mom and even if you were, he’s still an adult. As near as anyone of can tell, whoever is footing this bill isn’t in it to exploit Steve, just making sure he’s taken care of.”

Joyce breathed out through her nose as she tried not to snap at her son. She didn’t know that as a fact and Hopper’s reassurances weren’t enough. She hated having to take his word that whoever this was wouldn’t harm Steve. And that galled.

“It’s all the expensive gifts,” she tried to explain. “The car, the unlimited credit card, cash drops weekly, the gold necklace, the hotel. It’s just not right, it’s not decent.”

Jonathan shook his head. “What about all the non-expensive gifts? Things this benefactor thought Steve would like or get a kick out of? Like that little canary with top hat that he keeps on his dashboard? Or all the music tapes they send, thinking Steve might want to try something different. Hell, according to Steve until they left the country, they talked once or twice a day. That doesn’t sound like someone out to hurt him.”

She let out a shuddering sigh. Because Jonathan was right, that didn’t sound like someone trying to use Steve. “I know.”

Jonathan patted on her shoulder and then went into his room, probably to call Nancy. Another person like his mom who worried Steve was being taken advantage of. But even if he was, that was a lesson he was going to have to learn the hard way.

On his own.

Will had long since left to go hang out with Mike while Ellie and Steve made friendship bracelets. He made four. A black, red, and dark grey one for Eddie, a red, a brown, and a light grey one for Robin and two yellow, white, and black ones. So he could one each to Eddie and Robin.

“Those are really pretty, Steve,” Ellie congratulated him. “Those are some interesting color choices.” Spoken as though she was silently judging, but too polite to say so.

He blushed and held up the first one. “This is for my special friend, they are his favorite colors.” Then he held up the second. “And this is for Robin. The colors remind me of a female robin and the last two represent who I am now.”

Ellie blinked for a moment as she took in the information. “I can see that now. Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“I get my thread at Melvand’s,” she said serenely, “if you wanted to continue to make more, that’s where you would go to get your own.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Ellie.”

He didn’t stay much longer than that, now that both of the other boys were gone, Joyce was keeping too close an eye on him with Ellie. He knew it wasn’t the gay thing as she didn’t mind Will being around her. And it wasn’t being a barely legal adult considering she would gladly leave Jonathan to look over her.

Nope.

It was entirely because she didn’t know who Steve’s mysterious benefactor was. And the thought of this unknown, probably male, person might hear about Ellie later? Yeah, that’s where she drew her invisible line.

Which was bullshit, like with Robin’s mom, Eddie wasn’t going to prey on little girls. He was freaking out about Steve might be underage when they met in the club. But it wasn’t like he could tell Joyce that. She might revoke his time with Will and Ellie if she learned he had been underaged drinking that night. The night Eddie saved him.

Steve went up to his hotel room and flopped face first into his bed. He was tired. Tired of all the questions about finding a job and getting out from under Eddie’s thumb. Like Eddie was financially abusing him or whatever.

He just wanted to bring people to his hotel room and show them all the little things Eddie sent him just because he walked into a gas station and saw something cute he thought he would like. The keychain from Kansas City with his name on it. The bright yellow shirt that said “I don’t take no shit” and had the Iowan state bird of the American goldfinch. That one came with a little note explaining that it was a canary, but the black on the wings reminded Eddie of the deliciously tight black leather pants.

Steve blushed for hours after that one.

He wiggled onto the bed and crawled under the covers without having taken off any of his clothes. Maybe he could hibernate until Eddie got back in America.

~

Steve managed to bury himself under the covers before the porter with the felting sister ripped the blanket off from over his head.

He stared blearily up at the porter. “Martin?” He struggled to sit up, but flopped back down on the pillow in distress. “Just leave me alone.”

“It’s Marty actually,” the porter huffed. “The only people that call me Martin are my boss and my mom. You’re not either.”

“Marty, I just want to go back to sleep.”

Marty pulled the rest of the blankets and yanked Steve off the bed. He went with a startled yelp. He leapt to his feet to fight him, but he saw that Bob and Rosa were standing by his bed with looks of concern on their faces.

“I have the shower running,” Bob said, “you will get in there and at least clean off the sweat you reek of. Then Rosa will change the sheets. Marty will bring up some food while you are showering, then the three of us are staging an intervention, because this isn’t like you!”

Steve opened his mouth to refute that statement, probably something about how no one called the whole time he as sulking.

Bob pulled out a stack of messages. “I have thirteen messages, and that’s only because the answering machine is full.”

Steve looked behind him and sure enough the machine was blinking complete with a full tape.

“Oh.”

He meekly went and did as he was told. He was only going to do a perfunctory wipe down because they were waiting for him, but once he got under the water it felt so good that he began to thoroughly scrub himself down. Normally going without a shower for a couple of days really didn’t do much, but because he had barely moved to pee, he was covered in thin layer of sweat.

He washed his hair and got out of the shower. He dried himself off and put on the long robe Eddie had gotten him. He opened the door and was instantly hit with enticing aroma of chicken noodle soup. He moved out of the bathroom to the main room, lured by the scent of real food.

The sofa was full of the hotel employees so he grabbed his bowl of soup and spoon and sat down on the armchair curled up as small as he could make himself.

“You frightened us, mi corazón,” Rosa huffed. “You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t ordering food. The only way we could tell you moved at all is that occasionally the cup in the bathroom would be wet or you would be on the other side of the bed.”

Bob nodded. “We were told to look after you, money was no object. That’s what we were told, but you turned out to be kind and generous and frankly better than ninety percent of the patrons here. You treat us like we’re human, so it became our pleasure to serve you. So when you weren’t opening your door to anyone or answering your calls, we knew something was wrong.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered into his bowl. “I just got so tired of everyone trying to find out who is bankrolling my life style and telling me to get a job that I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“It’s none of their business,” Rosa huffed. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have this life. I know your papa wants to hurt and all this for you protection, but it seems to me your friends just see the money you...” she snapped her fingers. “What’s the word?”

“I’d use ‘splash around’,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Ehhh,” she knew it wasn’t the word she was looking for but it would have to do. “They see the good. Not the bad. They see new car, but they weren’t there to see you give up your old car. They see the fancy hobbies, but they don’t see your big room and no one to fill it with.”

“She’s right,” Marty said. “I don’t think even the girl that comes with your gifts from Eddie Munson quite understands the crippling loneliness and isolation you have to be feeling right now.”

Steve sniffled into his soup. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know how to impress upon them how dangerous this all is for me. Like the only ones that remotely understand are the Hendersons and that’s because my dad showed up on their doorstep. But even then I don’t think Dustin quite grasps the enormity of it all, but then he’s thirteen so...”

“The only reason your father hasn’t penetrated hotel security,” Bob said with a grimace, “is that the owner, Dr. Sam Owens hates business men like your father. Otherwise, his hold over this town would have extended to here, no doubt about that.”

“So this is what’s going to happen,” Marty said, “if you need to sneak out and just go for a drive to get out of your head, call Bob and he’ll arrange it. If you need someone to talk to ring up Rose or myself. We’re here for you. We understand that Mr. Munson is out of the country right now and it makes it harder, but we’ve got you, okay?”

Steve nodded and said weakly, “Okay!”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts

[chaoskull]

Lawrence Alma-Tadema - Ask me no more

Carelessness to Respite

Roboute Guilliman x gn!reader

Summary: Guilliman is neglecting himself, as his spouse, you cannot let this keep happening further more.

This is for you Guilliman addicts, ENJOY!

Guilliman had been stuck on his office for far too long, reviewing reports, ordering resources, and writing his signature. It had become a default movement for his hand, to glide a pen through paper drawing his name for hours.

"You've been at this table for how long?" Your question was left unanswered, as his focus was entirely on the words in front of his eyes. You clear your throat, the sound disrupting his concentration.

"Don't you want something to eat or drink?"

He waits a second to see if you're merely trying to stop him from his work. "If it isn't too much to ask, I could accept a beverage."

There was a gleam in his eye, one visible at times he felt true enjoyment, you were surely the only able to find. It is rare to see it, ever since he had awoken from his wound, the arduous task of keeping the imperium together had left him exhausted.

Leaning over his shoulder, you take a look at his desk. A sea of documents, you recognise a few names, mostly Sicarus, probably complaining. "That's a lot of papers, my husband"

He let out a deep, tired sigh. You were concerned over his well being, there had been a time where he was far more attentive to his health.

"I'll be back, and you had enough recaff for today" You say as leave him with a kiss to his forehead. He gave you a tired but appreciative gaze as you left, slowly drifting back to the pile of papers and reports, turning his attention back to work.

When you returned, he was still reading through the paperwork. "I wonder when you will take a break" you comment as you place a glass of wine and plate, it had a much bigger sized loaf of bread with sweets to accompany, on his desk.

"Thank you, my love. But I'm afraid I still have a lot of work that needs done." He takes the glass to take a sip and pulls the plate out of his way.

"No, first you eat" You insist, ordering him to stop his irresponsible behavior, snatching the pen he held in his hand and placing it on a holder.

"And what will you do if I don't?" He challenges you, amused by actions, he lets you continue this scene, waiting for a comeback.

"Something you won't like, now eat" I push the plate closer to him. He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head, he ran a hand through his eyes to remove some of his fatigue, you were right, he felt terrible inside, so he obliges. "If that is how it is, I'll eat"

He reaches out and picks up the glass of wine again, taking a long drink. Grabbing a slice of bread, he took a bite. Slowly he starts to feel more relaxed, enjoying the small halt from his work.

You sat beside him, on the armrest of his chair, if not you wouldn't be able to get so close to his height, you had watched him finish his entire meal, not letting him neglect himself, as he had for so long.

"I hope you know I won't leave your side ever again" You whisper near his ear, he was done eating by the time you said it, and so this time, as he looked at you, a smile formed in his lips.

Content with the primarchs reaction, you catch him slightly off guard bringing in an embrace. He holds you with as much enthusiasm, as he deflates himself, his head falling into your shoulder.

The day had ended and you were still helping him finish his reports, you had to usually beg him to do so, but this time it wasn't needed.

Surprisingly, no one had come into his office that afternoon to end the moment of you two together.

It's a short little thing, but I hope you liked it!

[dearggntlereader]

mattheo riddle x reader mattheo realizes hes in love with you. TW: kissing some cursing and as always picture does not represent the readers looks

are we in love? . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Mattheo has loved you for as long as he can remember.

He loved you when you sat next to him in potions, eyes shy and frame small. He smiled at you then and introduced himself, starting a fabulous friendship. He loved you when you grew into your personality, getting more and more comfortable around him. He loved you when you let out huffs of laughter at his antics, followed quickly by a roll of your eyes.

He might have loved you a little less when you were dating that gryffindor bloke. Actually, no. He might have liked you less but he loved you all the same. He still loves you.

He loves you when you just woke up, eyes tired, lazy smile and messy hair. He loves you when your shooting glares at him in class, hissing at him under your breath “Focus, riddle. You’re distracting me.” He loves you when you're cleaning him up after a fight, causing him pain and wincing in tandem with him every time the cloth meets his face.

But is he in love with you?

Draco would scoff “obviously, dickhead.”

Blaise wouldn’t even grace him with an answer, only smiling in that ‘i know something you don’t’ way of his.

Pansy would bark out a laugh “you’re so stupid, riddle!”

Enzo would argue that he merely likes your presence, but he is just as stupid with emotions as Mattheo himself is. So, that doesn’t help.

Theodore would shake his head with a soft laugh and knowing look, “What do you think?”

He could never ask Tom about this.

So seeing as most of the people he holds dearest would say yes or atleast insinuate that, that should be his answer.

But then he thinks back to the start of your friendship. When you smiled at him with still crooked teeth, grabbed his hand with zero elegance for a handshake and he felt the same tugging at his chest he feels now.

And he wasn’t in love with you then.

He barely knew you, nothing to be in love with.

And now he knows you. He knows you when you're happy, feeling on top of the world just the same as he knows you sobbing into his chest, refusing to leave the bed for days on end.

The same feeling is still tugging at his chest, urging him to look at something he just can’t find.

It’s tugs become stronger every time he looks at you, a weird feeling in his stomach bubbling up with more force whenever you smile at him.

Just as you are now.

Everything inside of him is screaming to tell you something, to do something. But, what? 

“...you know?” your voice trails off, looking at him. 

You were standing between rows of books, holding an Astronomy book in hand. Surely you were ranting about class to him and whilst he would usually love to listen, he didn’t register a single word.

You're frowning slightly and he has to fight the urge to lift his fingers to smooth out the wrinkle forming between your lovely brows.

He loses the fight.

Your skin is soft under his fingers and your frown is replaced by something much softer. 

You’re looking at him with a mix of surprise and intrigue. The slight gleam in your eyes makes Mattheo want to lean in and kiss your pretty, pouty, perfect Lips. He wants to bite them until he draws blood, wants to tug at them to see them bounce back. And god, how much he wants to feel them on his skin, on his Lips, whispering soft secrets into his ear.

Stop.

No.

He was not in love with you, right?

A voice that sounds an annoyingly amount like Draco floats around his brain, “Then why the fuck do you want to kiss her, fuckface.”

He mentally tells Draco to ‘shut the fuck up’ before directing his Attention back to you. His eyes flit from your mouth up to your eyes.

Fuck.

Oh, god- he’s in love with you.

Your pupils are blown wide, dark and dilated, fixed on his Lips- just as his had been a second ago. Your eyes aren’t filled with lust or heat, simple adoring. And isn’t that just ten times more devastating. You're looking at him like you love him and all of a sudden Mattheo is falling. 

Or maybe he’s been falling for a while, falling for you, into you. Losing himself in your love, in your words and laughs and eyes. 

Most likely, he was always falling.

From the moment your eyes first meet, eyes are the windows to the soul after all. He is so in love with your soul. He wants to melt into you, curling around your spine and spilling into your veins, until you couldn’t possibly force him away.

But if he can trust the look in your eye, you might not want to force him away. Even if you had the chance.

He feels your mouth before he realizes he moved. Your lips are already parted when he meets them, inviting him in. Only a split second passes before you kiss him back, sighing into the kiss.

His hands settle on your waist and as the kiss picks up, they start roaming all over your back. Your hands fall into his hair and everything clicks into place. 

He can faintly hear the heavy Astronomy book fall to the ground beneath you two.

The haziness falls away and all Mattheo can feel is you. Your hands, your mouth, your skin, your body.

He’s convinced you were created for him just as he was for you, the way you fit together turns the falling into floating. 

Mattheo doesn’t want to meet the ground ever again, not if floating feels like this.

Okay so, this is based off something @dustie-faerie commented a while ago and after some playing around and writing and rewriting we ended up with this<333

[moowmoon]

NIGHT CONFESSIONS

— aaron hotchner x toretto!fem!reader

— summary: in a cleared night, aaron shares what would be his perfect life if he leaves the bau.

— c/w: i think none?

— w/c: 1.1k

— a/n: hi! how are you guys? this is the first work of my toretto!reader universe (the reader is also part of bau)! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts, my ask box is always open to talk/share things! ! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there are any mistakes!

The night seemed to have been painted by hand, the clear sky displayed a sea of twinkling stars that stretched as far as the eye could see. The full moon cast its silvery light over the clear field, drawing soft wisps in the grass that moved slightly with the breeze. The fresh air carried the subtle scent of the earth and the wildflowers that surrounded the secluded lawn.

Aaron walked ahead, holding a wicker basket in one firm hand, while the other held her hand at his side. His steps were calm, almost soundless, as if he feared breaking the tranquility that this moment produced. Next to him, she held the blanket, adjusting it on her arm, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"This is it." he announced softly, stopping beside a perfect clearing, surrounded by trees whose branches swayed in an almost imperceptible rhythm. He placed the basket on the ground, turning to pick up the blanket and observing for a moment the delicate smile she gave him, full of warmth and complicity.

"It's even more beautiful than I imagined," she said, looking up at the endless sky, where a few stars seemed to twinkle just for them.

Aaron smiled, a rare expression reserved only for the most special moments, but full of sincerity. "I knew you'd like it."

He took the blanket from her hands and opened it carefully, spreading it out on the soft ground. The sound of the fabric meeting the grass mingled with the whisper of the wind as they lay down, ready to let the night envelop their conversations and comfortable silences.

The two of them sat on the blanket, observing how the world seemed to have shrunk to fit only in the clearing that Aaron had meticulously chosen. The basket was open at the side, revealing a small feast that had been carefully prepared. He poured the wine into two simple glasses, the red liquid reflecting the soft moonlight. As he handed her one of the glasses, his fingers brushed hers briefly — it was a deliberate touch, small, but so full of tenderness that it made them both smile softly.

"I can't believe you brought this." she said, holding up a small container with an amused smile.

Aaron glanced over and raised an eyebrow. "You like cheesecake, don't you?"

"I like it, but the last time we ate together was during a case. Have you forgotten that we were on duty?"

He let out a low laugh, a rare, almost musical sound. "I don't forget the most important things," he replied, his joking tone hiding the genuine affection in his words.

As they lay side by side on the blanket, the two of them watched the starry sky above, a spectacle of bright dots scattered like dust of light. The silence around them was broken only by the soft sound of the wind between the trees and the occasional murmur of some nocturnal creature.

Aaron, who was resting with his hands intertwined behind his head, kept his gaze fixed on a more distant constellation, which he vaguely recognized, but couldn't remember its name. She, next to him, was lying on her side with her head resting on one hand, watching him with a small smile on her face.

"What are you thinking?" her voice was low, almost a whisper, as if she didn't want to disturb the serenity of the night.

He took a few seconds before answering, his eyes still fixed on the sky. "I sometimes wonder what it would be like if things were simpler." Aaron turned his head to face her, his face serious but his eyes gentle. "If I could leave everything behind. The pressure of being the leader of the BAU, the weight of each case… and just live."

She didn't respond immediately, absorbing the rare moment of vulnerability. Aaron was always the strong one, the stable one. Seeing him open up that side of himself was a privilege.

"And what would you do?" she asked, curiosity tinged with tenderness taking over her heart.

He let out a short sigh, almost a muffled laugh. "Maybe I'd buy a small house somewhere quiet. I'd spend my days tending the garden, with Jack. Reading. Cooking." he paused, his eyes returning to the sky, as if he were seeing that future projected onto the stars. "And, of course, I wouldn't do it alone."

She felt her heart squeeze at the confession. She slid her hand down to meet his and intertwined their fingers. "I think you'd get on very well. And, if I can, I'd like to be there with you."

Aaron turned his face to look at her, his eyes reflecting something between surprise and gratitude. "What about you? What's your dream?"

"My dream is simple," she replied, smiling softly. "To buy a house near my family and build a life there. Me, you, and Jack, all together. That's enough for me."

A comfortable silence once again filled the air between them. The vulnerability that ran between them needed no explanation, just the certainty that they were both there, exactly where they were supposed to be.

The night continued to envelop them in a gentle embrace. The world around them was completely silent, as if absorbing any external sound that dared to disturb the moment between them. 

Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes discreetly studying her. There was something almost ethereal about the way the moonlight caressed her face, highlighting each feature with a delicacy that seemed to have been stolen from a dream. He allowed himself a rare smile, so small that it almost went unnoticed.

"You know," he began, his voice a hoarse whisper that seemed to blend in with the sound of the night. "It's nights like this that make me believe that maybe I'm doing something right in life."

She turned to him, her gaze full of curiosity. "What do you mean?

Aaron looked back up at the sky, taking a deep breath before replying. "For everything I've been through, everything I've seen… meeting you, having moments like this, makes me think that there are good things waiting for me. And you're one of them"

The silence returned, but this time it was thick with the force of what had been said. She reached out, gently touching his face, before pulling him into an embrace. They moved even closer, their bodies aligned together, each other's warmth protecting them from the chill of the night.

"Do you promise we'll do it again?" came a low, almost hesitant voice.

Aaron closed his eyes for a moment, resting his cheek against his shoulder. "Whenever you want."

And so, with the starry sky as a witness, the bond between them grew even stronger, like the roots of a tree that grows slowly but steadily, destined to last.

[chososwifey24-7]

Handsy

Synopsis: You wanted to go get a fun little skull tattoo to have fun for the spooky season. When you walk into the tattoo parlor, the last thing you expect to see is a sexy man. And he doesn't expect to see such a pretty girl.

Cw: nsfw, mdni, needles (tattoo gun), smut, public sex, fingering, fondling, nipple sucking, cum eating , slight aftercare.

You'd always wanted a tattoo. You have piercings so a little needle and ink wasn't anything to fear right?

You'd looked and looked at designs and one stood out to you. Not only because it was close to halloween, but it looked esthetically pleasing. Just a small little cartoon skull.

It looked like something you'd doodle on your calculus papers in college. Just about the size of a quarter, slightly bigger. It wouldn't take terribly long, and it was cute.

Calling the tattoo parlor and setting up the appointment was the easy part. It couldn't be much harder to walk in and get that tatto done, right?

At least that's what you told yourself as you entered the tattoo parlor the day of your appointment.

You looked around the shop, everything from pictures that people made to bug cases filled with all kinds of jewelry. From earrings to nose ring to belly button rings to nipple piercing. Any piercing you could imagine was there.

All the equipment, all of the jewelry, all of the showcasing of things they had really made the place look cozy.

You could hear the faintest sound of music from possibly a room in the back. It sounded like rock music, but you could only pick out the guitar, so you weren't one hundred percent sure.

That's when you heard the footsteps approaching, and a boy with salmon her walked out behind the counter along with another salmon haired male.

One was much taller and more muscular, with tattoos lining every inch of his upper body. The other boy looked smaller, still muscular, but more bright.

"Heya! Welcome in. How can we help ya?"

They younger, smaller, boy said with big shiny eyes. He looked sweet. The guy behind him looked through some of the stuff upfront before quickly leaving back to the back.

"Oh, I had a tattoo appointment scheduled today. It's with Choso? I believe that was his name."

The boys' face lit up immediately, and he waved you into the back.

You followed him and eyed all of the displays on the walls, looking at some of the designs and some of the different art pieces. Not all drawing, but crafted by hand. It was esthetically pleasing to look at .

As you made it to the back, there was a man sanitizing a table and pulling out different items. Two, almost, buns sat atop his head. Hair was sticking out, and honestly, it pulled together his style.

He had a tattoo running over the bridge of his nose and sleep deprived eyes. Everything about him just screamed hot and emo.

Not that it was bad, but rather sexy and alluring.

The young boy with pink hair called out to the man in front of you.

"Yo! Choso, your appointment is here! Thought I'd bring her back for ya."

He said with a chipper tone and a happy attitude. His smile truly was quite bright. You wondered what a kid like him was doing in a shop like this.

"Oh, thanks, Yuji."

His baritone voice struck your ears like his voice was a call. It was almost like a call just for you, but that had to be crazy right?

When he looked at you, you watched the way his pupils dilated. His mouth was hung open slightly, and he just looked you up and down.

His gaze made you feel hot, but you soon shoved those feelings away. He was just your tattoo artist for christ sake.

He patted the seat you'd be in and gave you a gentle smile, and you hadn't even noticed you'd been standing there for a hot minute. Yuji was gone and Choso was worried he had frightened you.

"Come on over, I don't bite, I promise."

He said with an ever so gentle chuckle. You gave him back a small smile and went to go sit down.

"So you emailed me what you'd like as your tattoo, but you never actually told me where you'd like it."

"Well, you see, I wasn't sure, but I'd think it'd be super cute if it was just right on my ribs, maybe up closer to my right side of my... chest."

You hesitated slightly, saying chest, and he gave you another small laugh.

"No need to be shy. I've given some people a tattoo right above their ass before. Saying 'boob' won't kill me."

You nod again and bite your lip gently. Before taking a deep breath.

"Well then, I'd like to have the tattoo on my ribs just to the side of my right boob, so not on it."

He nodded and got to work, getting some of the ink and sanitizing stuff.

"Alright, that makes more sense. But for that, I'll need you to remove your shirt and your bra, please. I'll go close the door so we have privacy, and don't worry, everyone around here knows to knock."

You nod, and as you face him, you notice maybe you're not the only one embarrassed. A light pink dusted Chosos cheeks, and he tried to hide it by turning away.

Taking off your shirt and slowly unclasping your bra, you finally got everything off. You laid down on your side and waited for choso to come back.

As he approached the chair, he slightly leaned back to the top half so that you could fully lay down on your side. His face still dusted pink, and his eyes respectably looking at the ground.

He put on his gloves and put some numbing ointment over the area of wear the tattoo would go. After that, he waited for it to dry before he sat down.

"You'll feel my hand on your hip when I rest it. Besides that, my other hand will be on the tattoo gun, and we'll get this done soon. Of course if you're alright with that?"

He says, his sweet voice hitting your ears once more. You simply nod and he chuckles.

"I need words."

This felt more intimate than it needed to be. Maybe this wasn't the right call? Maybe you were just overthinking, but this man was just so fine. You couldn't help but take in a shaky breath before exhaling and answer.

"Um, yes, yes, that's alright with me."

You stuttered out, and he gave you a gentle pat to your hip. Before starting up the tattoo gun and getting to work.

The tattoo hadn't taken more than about thirty minutes for how small and simply it was. Choso just wanted to get all of the details correctly. He sighed as he finished and put over a protective cover.

You had turned over after he finished trying to readjust without even thinking or remembering that you hadn't had a shirt on this entire time.

Choso flushed red as he cleared his throat and looked away.

"Damn."

He muttered under his breath, but you had heard, and you looked at him surprised. Before that face had turned to a sly smirk.

"Do you find me attractive choso?"

You said with almost a haughty tone. He looked at you and nodded.

"Words, choso."

He licked his lips, eyeing you up and down. Seeing you like this made him hard just thinking about the things he'd do to you.

"Yeah, I find you sexy, not just hot."

You hum in approval at his words and eye him to and down too to gauge his reaction to your body language. You may have just met the man, but holy did he look like a satisfying fuck. Looked like he could please you good and well.

"And if you'd allow me permission, I'd love to show you just how sexy I find you."

You nodded, and with that, he was on your lips.kissing them like a mad man, and his hands reached down and fonfled your breasts, gently on the right because of your newly placed tattoo, but he still gave you the attention you deserved.

His lips soon found your neck and your collar bone and soon your breasts.

"Oh fuck,"

He spoke in-between kisses to the valley of your breasts.

"Ever since you walked in here, you caught my eyes, and damn baby, I needed you like this."

Those are the words that left his lips before they were attached to your left nipple. His mouth sucking like he hadn't had a taste in years. Your back arched, and he grinned against your nipple.

One of his hands gently snakes down to the heat between your legs. Your cunt throbbing for more and you moaned for more. Craved his touch.

"Choso please."

You begged. You needed not beg anymore because choso delivered in an instant.

Undoing the sweats you were in, he snaked his hand into your underwear and began to messily rub against your soaked clit before traveling his hand down to your sopping hole.

Two fingers entered you and began to thrust into you violently. His mouth now moved over to your right nipple sucking and looking up at you.

You moaned, almost a little too loud, so choso ever so gently placed a hand over your mouth as you both continued.

Choso had begun to rut his hard on against the chair, and he moaned whilst giving you the attention you craved.

But when his fingers had curled just right and hit your G-spot, you almost came undone right there, the knot that had been building in your stomach so close tosnapping.

No, that's not what did you in. It's when choso began to whisper dirty thing into your ear while his palm grinder right against your clit and his finger hit your spot just right that you came undone on his fingers.

You moaned into his palms while he dang praises of good girl, andsweetheart, into your ear with that deep voice. He wiped the tears from your eyes with his thumb and gave you a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Removing his hand, he placed his fingers onto his tongue and groaned with satisfaction. Tasting your essence and your cum was just wonderful. Euphoric even.

He had grabbed a few worm paper towels and wiped you down gently before helping you get back into your bra and into your shirt.

"What about you? Don't you need to get off?"

You ask gingerly almost concerned that he wouldn't be able to get off on his own.

"Don't you worry, the sight of your face and the taste of you will linger long enough for me to take care of this problem."

He leaned in close to your ear and whispered what he was going to say next.

"Next time, I'll have you on your knees to assist me."

"Next time?"

You ask with a burning hot face. He just nodded and handed you a slip of paper.

As you walked out of his tattoo room, he gave you a gentle slap on the ass and blew you a kiss. You reached the front desk and were met with Yuji's bright smile.

"So how was everything?"

He asks with that happy go lucky tone, and you just give a smile and tell him it was great.

The tip you left was enough to show. And the number you left with. Was even greater.

[vladdyissues]

so i keep thinking about just how thoroughly knocking vlad up would fix a lot of his issues (or it does in the series as my ass would write it). i also keep thinking the timing is SO bad on giving him any in the canon

SO

TIME TRAVEL

-Danny (late teens) is given a chance to change the past

-he decides to go and antagonize Vlad a few years before canon to distract him from murder attempts on Jack. draw his wrath onto himself and displace his previous rage target. that's a nice safe range of time travel right? how badly could he possibly throw things off when he already exists and is most of the way to who he was when he was starting out?

-small side effect--he catches Vlad's full attention. he hadn't planned to go after Jack and Maddie for a few years yet, when everything was lined up, meaning Danny is the ONLY one he has eyes for right now. it's a level of intensity he was not ready for

-Vlad, meanwhile, is unprepared for how he feels to see another half-ghost. he had been ready to go those whole 20 years totally alone, preparing for that perfect moment of sweeping Maddie off her feet. now it's a little difficult to focus on the big picture. he needs to figure out EVERYTHING about this stranger

-over a course of about three months, shit gets romantic. and physical. not necessarily in that order

-Danny realizes he's THOROUGHLY fucked the timeline as WELL as his archnemesis, so actually tells Vlad the whole story--he can't stay in the past forever, but his memories of being here and doing this will sort of... snap into place when this timeline's danny reaches the right age. Here's events between then and now, here's things he would like to still happen, here's things he never wants to happen

-he does NOT expect Vlad to wait and they're still in that spicy in-between part of enemies-to-lovers so Vlad sure as fuck isn't promising that, but he's certain he isn't obsessing on taking Maddie from Jack anymore, so looks forward to the option of picking up where they left off

-(dick so good it can fix homicidal rage)

-Danny goes back to the new future at the end of those three months since much longer and he'd start forgetting relevant details in living a day to day life and ohhhhh fuck, fuck, FUCK WHAT DID HE DO

-meanwhile in the past Bitter Reunions happens and Vlad has no desire to do anything to Jack or Maddie besides introduce them to his adorable tiny four, soon to be five year old daughter Danielle, with whom he plans to move to Amity Park soon when she starts kindergarten. openly offers to train Danny with no strings attached, he's just invested in making sure he survives for at least a few more years

-(jailbait wait, but make it sci-fi)

-Vlad is much more chill about things with an attainable goal and a small child that needs him at his best

-he doesn't see his Danny in this newbie, but now he knows the future, knows that if he's just patient and helps Danny out now, HIS Danny will come back to him

-when the timelines eventually sync, THERE'S THAT FULL, INTENSE, ATTENTION AGAIN

-as well as several years of memories of becoming intensely attached to Dani and Vlad being an infuriating jackass without being an antagonizing one, keeping some of that hateful spice without actively committing crimes against everything Danny values. in fact, his help was still instrumental in pulling things off

-Vlad has been waiting for this Danny for some time now, full-on obsession building up steam, so if Danny wants it to not happen, he had better say something about it

-he does not. he kinda dreaded losing it on snapping forward, actually. and Vlad managed to thread the needle of training him and building a bond with Dani without totally shifting their relationship's tone

Time Travel makes me cry because my stupid ogre brain is not good at parsing temporal phenomena but the parts I understood were excellent and make perfect sense. And the thought of Jack and Maddie being surprised (and maybe relieved, because 20 years without a peep from Vlad and suddenly a party invite? Kinda unnerving. Is he still mad?) to find their old college friend is a happy single father to an adorable little girl who—wow, Jack, doesn't she look so much like Danny when he was that age?—is just 💯💯💯

And Vlad knowing that there's something wonderful (a relationship, family, love, connection and understanding like he's never felt before) waiting for him at the end of this journey if he can just be patient would, I think, do a lot to tone down his villainous proclivities.

Vlad's essential problem is that he's so desperately lonely and impatient that he can't see beyond his immediate need to satisfy himself. He can formulate elaborate plans, yes, but he doesn't really plan for the future beyond those plans. He's totally still living in the past (at least until this AU happens), metaphorically driving a car with the pedal to the metal but looking nowhere except the rear view mirror. And this AU totally breaks that and gets him looking ahead, invested in the present again. I love it.

[raveninfog]

Secrecy.

Authors note- hi everyone! I’m pretty new to all this and this is my first shot at writing. I’ve always been a spectator, just waiting on amazing authors to update their fics to reading one shots in the middle of the night cause I can’t sleep. I’ve always had ideas in my head about how I’d write and I decided to finally give it a try. Hopefully you’d all enjoy it. Also with that being said, please don’t be afraid to give me some advice on how I can get better as time goes on. 🫶🏼

Enjoy my loves!

Warnings- flirting, light swearing, nicknames, based in the late 40s. Kissing. Sneaking around, Best friend’s older brother. Sergeant James Barnes. Reader is 20 while Bucky is 24.

Genre- Oneshot! Fluff! Best Friends Brother.

You were sitting there at the dining table with your best friend Rebecca. Working on a school project you had to finish with her for your history class. Books laid out in front of you, papers, pencils. The sound of the front door opening was heard since the dining room was right by the front door of the small home. It was him, Rebecca’s older brother bucky. He was home from the base quite early today.

You’ve had a crush on him for a while, how couldn’t you? He was a sergeant, in the military, about to go fight in the war in a couple months. That crush reciprocated from Bucky, it had seemed like he felt the same way about you too. Which later came out to be very true. So you two had a little secret, a little secret relationship..no one knew about.

Not even Rebecca.

As you saw Rebecca get up and go to the kitchen to grab some snacks, Bucky came up behind you. He knew this was the perfect time too. The kitchen wall blocked off the area of the living room you were in. Your head turning to the side to where he was as you heard him, before he leaned in and kissed your lips passionately. His lips met in a fiery clash, soft yet insistent, moving with a rhythm that spoke of longing and urgency with yours. The warmth of his touch was intoxicating, every brush sending shivers down your spine. It was the way your lips fit perfectly within his, moving in sync, that made everything else fade into the background—a perfect balance of softness and intensity, leaving you two breathless and wanting more.

His lips were pliant and eager, parting slightly to deepen the connection, to draw the you closer. There was a slight pressure, firm and deliberate, as if to imprint the moment into a memory. The sensation was both tender and consuming, each movement speaking of unspoken words, of desire that couldn't be contained.

You were caught off guard of course, especially when you had turned your head and there was your boyfriend. You felt his lips on yours, before closing your eyes and kissing him back. The way he had bent down and had his hand on the back of your head, tilted upwards to get a good angle of your perfect lips on his . The warmth of your own breath and his mingled, and the world around you two faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your hearts and lips together.

“Is this how you say hello?...” you whispered to him in between kisses, when you pulled away just slightly for him to capture your lips again in a split second for a moment.

You could feel him pull away, to see if Rebecca was still in the kitchen. Hell, he could hear Rebecca going through the cabinets to find snacks or something.

To his luck, she was still in the kitchen. You had felt his lips right back on yours once again without even saying a single thing to you until he had finally pulled away to speak. He rested his forehead against yours, his thumb moving onto your cheek bone and caressing it gently before his thumb slid down to your bottom lip doing the same.

His lips curled into a soft smirk, his perfect little doll he absolutely adored with all his god damn being. It was almost surprisingly how Rebecca didn’t notice her big brother look at her own best friend with love in his eyes for you.

“What else do you want? A little love tap?” He teased you as he ran his thumb against your chin now.

You finally felt him pull his hands away from you, standing up straight as he fixed his uniform and took a shuffle back just in time as Rebecca had made her way back with some tea she had made. God, Rebecca was so oblivious to the point where it felt too easy. Too easy to the point it felt god damn suspicious.

“Let’s get this project over with so we can go to bed, unless you want Bucky to drive you home Y/N.” Becca said, setting the mug of tea in front you before taking a seat in the chair. Her face having a clear look of annoyance at the papers in front of her.

Bucky turned his head, looking at his little sister because he took a glance at you and cleared his throat a little.

“Why not tell dad to drop her off?” He spoke up. It felt like torture to say that, but he knew he had to play the game of keeping the relationship a secret.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked at her older brother before snickering at him.

“Well hello to you too, Why wouldn’t you wanna drop your girlfriend off?”

“WHAT?!” You and Bucky say in sync, shock spreading on his face while your cheeks turned completely red.

“What do you mean wha- oh come on, did you guys REALLY think I was that stupid..you guys aren’t exactly the best at hiding things. Especially since you two are always making out somewhere in the damn house.”

Buckys cheeks turned red as he rubbed the back of his neck, he honestly didn’t know what the hell to say to his little sisters revelation about her knowing everything. Clearly you were embarrassed, not to mention shocked about your best friend knowing. God you knew you and Bucky weren’t ever gonna hear the end of this. Not in a bad way really, more in an annoying way where she’d bring it up at every occasion she sees.

“Uh well…I-If that’s the case then yeah..I’ll drop Y/N off…unless she’s sleeping over.” Bucky said, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Ugh pervert..” Becca muttered in disgusted.

[brodygold]

Because He’s Hot

(All characters are 18+)

Jared was never one for sports. Or people in general for that matter. He was a shy introvert among shy introverts. Being gay made things even worse in his small, tight knit community. He was expected to look and act a certain way, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was a true outcast and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Being in his senior year of high school, he couldn’t wait to move away and never see anyone here again.

Sometimes though, life doesn’t give you what you want. As Jared sat outside at the bus stop on his way home, a stranger came up and sat down next to him. Grumbling to himself, Jared turned to look at him.

“Damn,” he thought. “He’s hot.”

The stranger was everything Jared liked in a guy: tall, athletic (if the shiny gold soccer jersey he had on meant anything), and had a great smile that could light up any room. His smile was so warm and welcoming, Jared almost forget he was going to tell the guy to leave him alone.

“Hey there. Name’s Brody. This bus heading to the soccer field?”

Jared gulped, not remembering how to form words for a second. He normally wasn’t one for talking to strangers, but thought he might as well answer him. Brody was hot after all.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. It does.”

“Great. Thanks man. I was supposed to catch a ride with my teammates but had something come up. You going to the field for tryouts?”

Oh that’s right. Jared remembered the jocks at school mentioning something about that. How some group called the Golden Army was in town holding tryouts to get people to join. There was no way he’d be caught dead around that group though. Right?

“I’m good, thanks. It’s not really my scene.”

“That’s alright bro. What is your scene?”

Jared paused and looked away at that. Well he tried to at least. Brody’s perfect smile was still drawing him in. God, those lips looked so kissable.

“Don’t really have one…” he eventually squeaked out.

“Well, if you want to, we’d love to have you, bro. We could be your scene. You could be a real bro.”

The idea almost made Jared laugh. Him, a bro and a jock? Who knew this handsome man was also funny? Still, a thought creeped into his mind. If he tried out, he could avoid his annoying parents and see this stud even longer.

“Might as well. What do I have to lose?”

Brody clapped Jared on the back. Jared blushed at the contact. “That’s the spirit bro! I got the perfect thing for you actually.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a golden jersey, shimmering in the sunlight. He held it out to Jared, who took it in his hands. It was so soft, almost melting in his hands.

Was he really about to put on this jersey just because some guy told him to?

Yeah, because he’s hot, Jared thought as he put it on over his hoodie.

He felt a tingle as soon as he put it on. He didn’t notice how his hoodie and ripped jeans vanished and turned into a pair of black soccer shorts, leaving him slightly chilly in the crisp fall air. Nor did he notice his skinny arms and legs becoming filled with muscle or his chest becoming two pillow pecs. His shaggy hair become a perfect sporty cut, the color turning from blonde to brown.

He was too busy staring at Brody and his smile. He certainly didn’t notice Brody’s eyes glow bright gold, drawing him in even more.

Jared memories and mannerisms disappeared the more he stared. The quiet, nerdy, outcast of a guy turned into a true social butterfly, hanging out with his bros any chance he got, on or off the field. Even the name Jared felt like a distant memory, being replaced with Jackson, a perfect name for a hot jock.

Brody’s eyes finally stopped their golden glow, a knowing smile on his face.

“You ready for tryouts, Jackson?”

“Hell yeah, Captain bro! Let’s go!”

Jackson felt so pumped for tryouts and knew with Brody by his side, the two could accomplish anything.

Why? Because they’re hot!