#while there are a LOT of strings attached and it gets all a little complicated

[cressidagrey]

Something good and right and real - Chapter 2

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, discussion of magical jewellery

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

It was a rest day when she finally pulled out research she hadn’t touched in decades. 

Though right now, she had a reason to do it. A very good reason if she was completely honest. 

Azriel was her reason. 

He showed up on her doorstep, bruised and scratched to hell and there was nothing that she could do against it. 

Patch him up and put him on her couch and ply him with food after an hour, and then some more food until most of it had healed and he had gone home. Even when she hadn’t wanted him to. 

But she hadn’t been able to protect him. 

And that stung

Mostly because it had been well known that Oriana had excelled at using her skills for protection . 

That had been what she had concentrated on. 

They made art, not war. 

But Oriana…Oriana made protection. 

Oriana fitted every child in her family with a personal enchanted bracelet. She had always just used them to alert the parents if the kid managed to get themselves into a bad situation. 

But the start of it was there. 

And then there was…her own necklace. 

She touched the thumb thick gold metal necklace around her throat. 

Her wedding necklace. It had been soldered around her throat when she had been 18 and she had never taken it off. Traditionally a female would wear it for the mourning period after her husband’s death and then take it off. She hadn’t. 

She was still mourning. 

At least as far as her people were concerned. 

A very visible sign to everybody that Oriana wasn’t available for anything other than friendship. Not even companionship. No sex without string attached. 

And after Wynstan had died…Oriana had made that visible reminder of her marriage into something else entirely. 

Wynstan would have hated it. She was certain about that. But she was also furious with him. And it was…fitting. In a way nobody but her would realise. 

That necklace was fitted with her own enchantment.  

It would keep any male from touching her in any way that she didn’t want. It would keep her safe. And it would violently dispel anybody that disagreed with that . 

She had only ever done that once. And she knew that it had been fucking suicidial to do it like she had done, etching in the runes, while it was around her neck. It could have blown up. She could have died. 

She hadn’t cared. Not one bit. 

Now with a few decades of distance she knew how fundemantelly stupid it had been what she had done. It went against everything she had ever been taught. 

And it was also the one and only time that Oriana had created something that she had willently imbued with the power to kill another person. 

It wasn’t…It wasn’t what she should have done. 

And still she had. 

She had done that and she hadn’t apologised or felt bad about it. 

And now….

Now Oriana was playing with that thought again. 

If she could make something that protected Azriel…something that would keep him safe…if it was something that…something that would kill his enemies, so he didn’t need to be in danger…she would do so in a heartbeat. 

But she hadn’t worked on anything like that in decades and starting with something complicated was going to be…fundamentally stupid once again. 

So she started small. 

She was a trained goldsmith, but Oriana had spent a few year learning blacksmithing as well. 

And she used both that day, as she sharpened the iron into blades. 

Knifes and stiletto blades, still lovely, with stone encrusted hilts…more art than function…though the function was very obvious. 

Azriel’s shadows hung around as well. She sometimes saw them out of the corner of her eyes and it amused her more than anything to see them swirl around, freeze in place when they thought she saw them. They didn’t even try to be subtle. 

“I can see you, you know,” she said drily, her voice amused besides herself. “Did Azriel put you up to it?” That thought did give her a warm glow. She quite liked to think that he checked up on her like that. 

She couldn’t help but flinch violently, when the voice was suddenly there. Like a hissing right in her brain. Not a real voice, not something that anybody else would hear, she was quite certain of that. But it was there, and she just knew that it was the shadows. A part of Azriel and then not a part at all. Both and neither at the same time. 

No, Mistress. Master doesn’t know we are here, they told her. 

She was amused beside himself. Even when Azriel didn’t outright check on her, a part of him was obviously still worried, enough that…well…His shadows did check on her. Even against their master’s orders. 

“And still here you are,” she muttered on her breath, jsut as one tendril wrapped itself around her wrist again, seemingly sinking between the bunch of bangles she wore every day and she reached out, patting it fondly. 

What is Mistress making? they asked her, another tendril seemingly investigating the knife that she was still holding in her hand. 

"Knives," Oriana gave back drily. 

For Master?  Somehow that made them excited. They swirled together, poised like a dog that was just waiting for her to throw a ball. It amused Oriana to no end. 

“Do you think he would like knives?” she asked his shadows, wondering. She had seen the knife that he kept strapped to his thigh, the one weapon that he wore openly and it made her wonder. Giving a warrior a weapon wouldn’t be out of order, right? And still, she didn’t think that Azriel, Azriel who seemed terrified of the idea of her being scared of him would like the idea of receiving something like that from her. 

Maybe it would be less of a sign of acceptance to her and more something that made him think that being a warrior was all she saw in him. And it wasn’t. It was just a small part of the male that she was getting to know and she didn’t want to reduce him to that. It didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t fair. 

Master would like anything Mistress makes. The shadows assured her, but Oriana just hummed uncommitingly. Maybe not a knife. Not at first…something else. She just wasn’t sure what yet. 

“Is he alright?” she asked the shadows instead. “You don’t need to tell me where he is or what he is doing, just…is he alright?” she asked them and they seemingly hummed with pleasure. 

Master is alright, they promised her. 

Alright then. 

“You can keep me company if you want?” she offered to the shadows. “But I need to solder, and I don’t want to hurt you, so maybe move up my arm?” she suggested. She could swear she nearly felt the amusement from them as they wrapped herself around the necklace she wore instead. 

Her two lives, intertwined. 

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. 

“Comfortable?” she made sure and they seemingly hummed with pleasure. 

And that’s where they stayed, while she soldered and continued on with her knifes. 

Somebody is coming, Mistress, they said suddenly and their soft touch disappeared. She was quite sure that they bled into the shadows underneath her window, but she wasn’t certain. 

“Well, that’s --- practical, i guess,” she mumbled under her breath. 

Just seconds later she felt the ward pinged. A smile took over her face. 

“Well, hello there, little sister,” her older brother said as he came strolling into the forge.

While she had inherited the creepy eyes and a few wisps of shadows that clung to her legs sometimes, Cyrus seemingly had taken every bit the look of a High Fae. No shadows, no creepy eyes…but also absolutely no protection against fire. Oriana could walk through it. She could touch it with her bare hands like every other proper Tartera. Cyrus would just get burns for his troubles. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised anybody that he had left the mountain as soon as he was able, while she had been willing to play the role she needed to play. 

Still, they were both half breeds, half Tartera, half High Fae…out of touch with both worlds and belonging to neither in a sense. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” Cyrus quipped as he sat down across from her, watching her work. 

“It has been less than a week,” she gave back drily. “Literally. How is Briony?” Her sister-in-law was High Fae, dark-haired with pale skin and beautiful. Cyrus had been a mess when he had first met her and somehow he had convinced her to marry him. Oriana still sometimes wondered how exactly he had managed that. 

“She’s good. The kids are good too,” her brother answered the unspoken question. “But..” he trailed off with a pointed look. 

“But?” she repeated absentmindedly, grabbing a rag and finally starting to polish one of the knives she had made. It looked…well. Not perfect, but then she had always been her own sharpest critic. However, for something that she hadn’t done in decades…she was chalking this up as a win. 

“You want to tell what is going on?” Cyrus asked drily. 

“Nothing,” she responded deadpan. Nothing that he needed to know at any rate. It was better that way. 

“Don’t lie to me, Oriana,” Cyrus gave back with a roll of his eyes. “I know you better than that.”

He did. 

“Are you sure you want to know?” she asked him instead, laying down her knife to meet his eyes. “If you know, you can’t tell our sibling. Or Mom. Or grandma,” she warned him tightly. 

She wasn’t ready for everybody to know. Especially because she knew that whatever she did, she would have her scandal. 

Oriana Belmond, Third daughter of the First daughter, mated to an Illyrian warrior of all people. 

Her grandmother would have opinions . 

Her mother would have a bloody conniption . 

“Well, now I am intrigued,” Cyrus said drily. “You haven’t told me that in decades. The last time was when you wanted to leave the mountain.” Right. 

When she had put her whole family in front of a fait accomplice. Well, it had worked. 

Her mother had not been on board with it. Then she had thought that she was just throwing a tantrum. Close to a century later, that was still what her mother thought, completely ignoring that Oriana had built herself a life out of the mountain, right here in Velaris. 

She just shrugged. 

Cyrus hummed. 

“Alright,” he agreed. “I swear that I won’t tell anybody what you just told me unless a tie where you are certain that you want it known,” he offered. She was the one who sealed the bargain, promising to tell him exactly what was going on. “So what is going on?” Cyrus asked her. “Wanting to go back into the mountain?” he asked her. He very carefully kept the judgement out of his voice, even when Oriana knew exactly what he thought about that. 

“Not in my lifetime,” she said drily. For a visit, sure. Back to living there? Never. “I…I met my mate,” she admitted quietly, 

Cyrus stared at her, opening his mouth to response and then stayed quiet. She picked up her knife again, checking on her work. “You…” Cyrus started, then stopped. “Alright. That’s…” he stared at her hands for a moment before he sighed. “ Oriana .”

“Yes?”

“You met your mate and you are making knives ,” Cyrus pointed out, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What is really going on?”

“That's it. I met my mate,” Oriana repeated. “I met him, Cyrus.”

“And what happened to him that makes you think that you need to take up blacksmithing? Again?” he asked her drily. She said nothing. “What’s next? Are you going to start to go back to…” when she said nothing, again, Cyrus just stared at her. “You are,” he finally said flatly.

“It’s what I was trained for,” she gave back, crossing her arms. “I can’t spent the rest of my life making useless earrings and bracelets.”

“They aren’t useless, they are beautiful,” Cyrus disagreed sharply. “They are works of art. And we both know why you stopped being an enchantress in the first place.”

She couldn’t help but flinch. 

“Don’t bring that up,” she said tightly. It wasn’t…It wasn’t so much a sore spot as it was a gaping wound. 

“Don’t bring that up?” Cyrus asked incrediously. “You nearly died!” he snapped. 

Right. 

Ruby red blood trickling down her body. Spearing Pain in her stomach…Fire everywhere…the sound of an explosion…of magic escaping the prison it had been forced into. It was marked into her brain and Oriana could do nothing to escape it. 

She saw it all. 

She swallowed. Locking her memories back down. Forcing her hands not to start shaking. 

“That was all on Wynstan,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, it fucking well was,” Cyrus agreed sharply. “It was on Wynstan and it was on Mom. It was on Grandmother. It was on everybody but you, Oriana. Still…it happened. It wasn’t on you, but you don’t exactly have the best track record with males.” She didn’t disagree with that. 

“And you also don’t have the best track record of knowing when to cut your losses,” Cyrus continued, fixing her with a glare. 

Her hand strayed to her necklace. 

“You are still wearing it,” Cyrus pointed out his voice soft. “Why?”

She said nothing. 

Cyrus didn’t know about the enchantment on it. Neither did her mother. Or anybody else. Nobody else knew what she had done. 

Nobody else knew that she couldn’t just pry it off like it was usually done with wedding necklaces after the mourning period. 

Nobody but her. 

If she wanted to remove it…it wasn’t that easy to achieve. Not if she actually wanted to survive it. 

And she still didn’t know if she wanted to remove it. The enchantment? She could live with that. Before Azriel showed up on her doorstep it had not been anything she had ever really worried about. It wasn’t that she had a whole handful of suitors vying for her hand after all. And the few that had shown up over the years…well they had been nice enough to accept that she wasn’t very receptive to it. 

Still, the fact that she still wore her wedding necklace even when Wynstan was by now longer dead than he had ever been alive…Yeah. Yes, she wanted that off her. 

But recreating the enchantment she had made when she had been out of her mind with grief and trauma and pain…

it was something else entirely. 

The ward pinged and she felt Azriel enter the shop. She had very carefully altered her ward so that he would always be able to walk into her front door which wasn't exactly something that she allowed to lots of people. Namely Cyrus and Briony and that was it. 

She allowed him that though. 

Still, she swallowed as he entered and caught sight of her and her brother’s broad back. 

“I…I brought lunch?” Azriel brought out, caught aback and Oriana smiled at him. 

“Thank you.”

Her brother turned around and Oriana watched as he took in Azriel. 

Great. She hadn’t wanted that to happen until…well. 

“Cyrus, that’s Azriel. My mate,” Oriana said calmly as she left the forge to walk into her shop room, greeting Azriel with a bright smile that she wasn’t really feeling. “Azriel, Cyrus, my brother.”

Neither of them spoke. 

“Nice to meet you,” Cyrus finally said, his voice carefully even and Oriana wanted to roll her eyes at the posturing of both, of Azriel’s wings twitching like he was thinking about actually flaring them out and decided against it. 

Great. This is just what she needed. 

Instead, she picked up the bag of food he had brought with him, kept warm in a specially made warming bag 

“Likewise,” Azriel finally responded, his voice quiet. 

“Let’s go upstairs. I need to interrogate your mate,” Cyrus said abruptly and Oriana glared at him. 

“Cyrus,” she hissed at him, but her brother ignored her in favour of already climbing the stairs to her apartment. 

“Let’s hope he’s less of an asshole than the last one!” Cyrus called from upstairs and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Sorry, about that,” she apologised to Azriel. “I didn’t know you were going to come over before this evening or I would have warned you,” she said drily. Azriel shook his head. 

“No, I should have used my shadows to check that you were alone first. That was on me,” he disagreed. “Did your brother mean Wynstan with that?” he asked, sounding something like morbidly curious and Oriana sighed. 

“Yes. Yes, he does.” Well, she wasn’t going to get out of it now. “Seems like you are going to get an introduction to my family earlier rather than later. You coming?” she asked as she turned to walk up the stairs. 

To say that lunch was an awkward thing was an understatement. It wasn’t helped that Azriel had gone nearly completely mute and she was left playing mediator, between a ruffled Cyrus and a near-silent Azriel. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Cyrus finally commented and Oriana opened her mouth to respond but Azriel beat her to it. 

“If I have something to say,” he said calmly and Oriana bit back some amusement at her brother’s face, who looked like he had just bitten into a lemon. 

“Cyrus,” she said quietly, but her brother just crossed her arms, still glaring at Azriel. “ Cyrus .”

“You are Illyrian,” Cyrus said with a pointed look to the wings that Azriel kept tucked close to himself. 

There was a part of Oriana that really wished she would get to see them stretched out, that wondered how big they were like that…how it looked when he actually went flying and if…if the near iridescent leathery skiing that stretched between bones was soft to the touch. 

But she also hadn’t dared to ask because that just seemed like something intensely private. 

Still, Azriel nodded. 

“I do know how the lot of you treat your females. If you even think about treating Oriana anything like that I am going to kill you,” her brother then spat out and Oriana swallowed. 

Right. 

“Cyrus,” she said quietly. “He hasn’t done anything .” 

Her brother just held up his hand. “Forgive me, if I don’t exactly trust your word on that after what happened the last time,” Cyrus pointed out, his voice cutting. 

She couldn’t help but flinch. 

“I am serious,” Cyrus insisted.  “And don’t even think you are going to see me coming.”

Azriel inclined his head. A tacit agreement if there ever was one. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He had been really, really stupid. 

Because in all of his…thoughts about Oriana and her own admission that she had her own set of scars, he had never even thought about the fact that Oriana had her own trauma. 

It hadn’t even crossed his mind, until he first met her brother. 

They did look alike, with the same big eyes, the same nose, though Oriana seemed to have inherited more of the Tartera characteristics

Still, it was obvious that her brother had a very good reason to feel protective over her and it all tied back to her husband. 

Oriana herself had said that he had been a better friend than a husband but Azriel had never even thought about what exactly she meant with that. 

“I am so sorry,” Oriana apologised to him with a grimace when Cyrus finally left, but not with another glare thrown in Azriel’s direction. He could understand that. The way females were treated in Illyrian war camps was abhorrent. His own mother had been one of them. And even when Rhys had outlawed Wing Clippings as soon as he had come into power…it wasn’t like everybody listened to their High Lord, which was another problem entirely. 

A problem that they still hadn’t found a solution for. 

“You don’t need to apologise,” Azriel disagreed, watching as her brother left. “He’s protective about you. He’s your brother. I understand that.”

“He’s overprotective, that’s what he is,” Oriana disagreed with a sigh. “I…We should have probably talked about this before. I told him that we were mates, but we made a bargain that he isn’t going to tell anybody until it was a time when I am ready,” she explained to him and his eyebrows lifted when he realised that she had done everything in her power to keep them both safe. He hadn’t expected her to even think about it. 

“You are good at keeping secrets,” he said fondly and Oriana shrugged. 

“I am not ready to tell my family and have them build themselves an opinion about it. Not until we have figured out where we stand,” she told him. He could understand that. He didn’t want to tell anybody yet. He kept any thought of Oriana locked away between the thickest mental shields he had ever been able to build. 

Keeping her safe and far removed from anything and anybody. 

“But you are ready for Cyrus to know?” he asked her curiously and she sighed. 

“He’s special to me,” she admitted. “We are close in age, just a few years apart…we both know how it is to not belong anywhere really,” she explained quietly. Azriel could understand that. 

He hummed in agreement.

“Are you going to tell your brothers?” she asked him, curious, but with no judgement in her voice. 

"No. Not…not right now,” he struggled to bring out these words. He didn’t want anybody to know. He wanted to keep it as close to his chest as he had ever been able to keep anything and he knew that that was ridiculous and that it wasn’t going to…always be that easy. And he didn’t even want to imagine the reaction when he finally did. “I am not ready for them to know.”

“Alright,” she agreed, reaching out to hold his hands across the table. He slipped his bigger one into her smaller one, her skin warm to the touch. She smiled at him. 

“Thank you for lunch,” she said softly, eyes soft, no flames anywhere to see.  “Sorry for destroying your romantic plans with my brother.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s alright,” he promised her. It was. There were going to be more lunches if he had his way. 

They went back downstairs into the forge not much later. By now, Oriana had somehow acquired a chair that accommodated his wings and put it in one corner, obviously making a space for him there and…somehow that quiet, unspoken act of acceptance made his chest painfully constrict. 

“What are you working on right now?” he asked her because he couldn’t quite put it into words and he needed to talk about something else so he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Like, kiss her right then and there. 

“Knives,” Oriana said brightly, holding out a knife to him, hilt first. It was definitely one of the prettiest knives he had ever seen. Very ornamental, with wavy lines, a bit like vines growing up the hilt. 

“Somebody told me that you would enjoy them,” she said with some amusement and he stared at her. What? 

“Your shadows. They came to visit,” Oriana clarified at the expression on his face. “Told me that whatever I made you would like it,” she said with some amusement and he just stared at her. 

What? 

Never in his life had his shadows ever talked to anybody but him. He didn’t even know that they could if they wanted to. He had used them to secure knowledge and to torture people…but he had never sent them to talk to another person. He had never even thought that they would do that, because nobody else could hear them when they talked to him but Azriel himself. 

And now they…talked to Oriana? Had a conversation with her?

“They talked to you,” he repeated, ensuring he understood that correctly. 

Talking. To her. To Oriana. 

“Yes?” Oriana said questioningly. “Is that wrong? Should I not have talked to them?” she asked him, sounding worried but he just weakly shook his head. 

“No, it’s…fine.” He grimaced at how that sounded. “They just…don’t do that. Have never done that,” he hurried to explain. “I didn’t even know they could do that,” he admitted weakly. 

“Huh,” Oriana made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. “Do you think it’s because I am…your mate?” she asked him hesitantly. 

“I have no clue,” he admitted frankly. It was as good a theory as any other. Probably the one that made the most sense. 

What is this about? He asked them sharply and the shadows seemed to be doing the mental equivalent of a shrug. 

Mistress is intelligent. We are not going to ignore her questions. They responded immediately. 

Right. 

Fair enough. Remember to keep my secrets. He gave back. It resulted in a sharp pulling back of them, rushing to wrap themselves around Oriana’s wrists and even around her neck. 

He could just stare. She didn’t even flinch as they threaded themselves through the necklace she wore. 

“You hurt their feelings,” Oriana said drily and he just stared at her. 

What? 

“Are you getting that from them?” he asked her and she shrugged as she lifted her hand to pat the tendril that was wrapped around her neck gently. It flexed and shifted like it was a snake that enjoyed being petted.  He just sighed. “Do you really want me to apologise to my shadows?” he asked her, not thinking that she was serious but she nodded. 

“Shadows have feelings too,” she told him pointedly and he sighed. He could argue that point. 

“I am sorry,” he said instead, aloud, more for her benefit than for the shadows. They seemed more amused by her antics than anything else. 

Oriana reached out to flick his nose. He couldn’t help but grin, grasping her hand and tucking her close to him, breathing in that scent of hers that was like a warm hearth on a winter day.  

He watched as the flames danced in her eyes, no longer the pure black that was always a bit disconcerting to look at, but the flames that he was sure were her natural state. 

He hadn’t really thought this too though, because now she was so close to him and he could feel the warmth of her boy and it felt…a lot.

“So that was all that you made?” he managed to bring out, swallowing and she shook her head. 

“No, I made something else as well,” she agreed. “You know how some females put these pin..sticks in their hairstyles?” she asked him and he nodded. He had seen that a few times, holding in place some sort of updos. 

She pulled a pair of them from her workbench, that made the knife she had made look like a toddler had made it. The tiny details on it were… incredible. They weren’t finished yet, he could see it…they seemed to need something else, maybe the addition of some stones, as settings were already soldered on. 

Still, the last thing he had expected was for her to slowly unscrew the cap and pull out a stiletto blade, that she offered him. 

He stared at it. Lightly curved and silver. Stabbing something with that would be…painful. And nobody would ever think that ornamental hair decorations were anything but that. 

“Beautiful and deadly,” he said softly. “You are a genius,” he told her, and she preened at his praise. He stared at them for a moment longer.  “When you are finished with them, can I buy them?” he asked her and she grinned at him. 

“Why? Do you have many pretty females to hand deliver gifts to?” she teased him and he swallowed. Right. 

“I…” he stuttered. “It’s for my brother’s mate,” he rushed to explain and she laughed. 

“I was just teasing,” Oriana told him fondly. “Any colour preferences for the stones that I still need to add?” she asked him, stepping back as she started to rummage through a couple of boxes that she kept underneath her workbench. 

“Red,” he said immediately. She arched an eyebrow at him in question. “It matches his Siphons,” he explained and she hummed as she selected one box in particular and then pulled out a smaller box from it, filled to the top with red stones in every shade, which she placed on her workbench.

“So…” she said, turning towards him, a grin slowly covering her face.“Should I start stockpiling blue gems for myself?”

The sudden stab of desire was so visceral that it took Azriel by complete surprise. 

His hands curled into fists on top of the workbench as he suddenly couldn’t stop himself from imagining how Oriana would look if wore stones in the same colour of his siphons set into something like the necklace she wore…and nothing else. He swallowed against a sudden dry mouth. 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked him, a tinkling of laughter in her voice as she stepped into his space, without a care in the world. 

He still expected her to flinch from him, but she didn’t. She was so close to him, the flames flicking in her eyes and he was quite sure that that was the moment when he fell in love with her like a ton of bricks. 

The first clues had already been there, for that female that took him home with her and fed him dinner, that patched him up and forced him to eat sandwiches she made, that was so clever and so kind and seemingly didn’t realise that she was either. Or maybe took it for granted. That treated him like he was just another fae that she met and wasn’t scared of him for even a moment. 

He could just stare at her, a little bit in awe. 

“Would you?” he asked her, allowing his hands to settle on her hips and her lips broadened into a smile. Would she wear that?

“I think I would enjoy everything that makes it obvious that I am yours,” she whispered. 

He kissed her. He couldn’t stop himself. The heat that ran through him as his lips first met hers was terrifying and exhilarating and a little bit magical. 

She opened up underneath him, a soft shocked gasp escaping her, just as her hands clenched in the fabric of the jacket he wore, as she pulled him as close to her as she could. 

He should stop. He knew that. He should have made their first kiss a chaste peck and left it at that, but he just…couldn’t. He couldn’t stop, not when her taste and her scent and every bit of her warm willing body was promising to be his solace. 

Finally, finally, he managed to force himself to pull back to lean his forehead against hers, to look into her eyes, flames flicking at him. 

“Seems like I got my answer,” he quipped. He had no idea where that came from, but the shocked laugh that escaped her, made him grin. 

She leaned up to kiss him again, twining her hands behind his neck. 

“You did,” she agreed. “I’ll go and find myself some blue gems.” There was a heady promise in her voice at that. 

And somehow he couldn’t wait for it. 

Still, she stepped back, picking up the hairpins she had been making before he had interrupted her so rudely and started to sort through her box of red gems. 

He picked up the first knife that she had made, testing the weight of it in his hand. The size was off, just a little bit. He wasn’t quite sure if it would fit her hands comfortably. 

“Do you know how to use it?” he asked her, mustering her body with less appreciation and more trying to figure out if she was trained in self-defence. 

She should be. She definitely should be. She needed to know how to defend herself because he wasn’t always going to be there to protect her and if something happened to her it would be…

He didn’t want to imagine that. 

Especially if he could rectify it. 

She was quite tall, probably even taller than Nesta, though her body definitely was on the curvier side, with a pronounced waist and full hips. 

She stared at him like he had gone insane. “See, that is the blade…” she started, amusement apparent in her voice. 

He shook his head. “Do you know how to defend yourself?” he clarified. 

“The pointy bit goes into the other person,” she quipped, though she grew serious at his gaze. “You know, throwing fire at another person seems to be quite the good way to stop them to do anything else to me,” she said, serious. “And if that fails…well, at least against most men, I have something else.” He raised an eyebrow at that. “I have a…personal enchantment of sorts,” Oriana explained, her lips set firmly.

He had never heard of that. 

“It’s…if anybody touches me with intent to…sexually assault me or rape me, they will be more and more violently repelled,” she told him and he stared at her. 

“I have never heard of anything like that,” Azriel said carefully. It was…it would be safe. In a lot of ways. If that could be replicated, he was quite sure he would put that on every female he knew. Just for peace of mind. 

“Because you must be idiotic to do it,” Oriana spat out. “Crafting it is stupidly dangerous.”

She didn’t need to say anything else. He could read between the lines. 

“You made it,” he said softly and she just nodded, setting a bright red stone in the tops of her hairpins. “What happened that made you…”

“Think I needed it?” she ended his sentence with a sigh, her anger dissipating already. “Wynstan died.” Her husband.  “I wasn’t about to be put into another arranged marriage, so I did what I thought I had to. In the end, putting one of my suitors on fire was enough, but I preferred to be safe,” she said darkly. 

The anger that welled up in him at that was…harsh. “They were planning on that?” he asked, his voice gravelly. 

“They had their reasons,” Oriana said, waving him off. He could just stare at her. 

“What could possibly be a reason for it?” He snapped. 

She laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. 

“The same reason why I was married off in the first place, Azriel. Political Maneuvring,” she said easily. “It could have been worse. Then, Wynstan was my best friend.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but finally swallowed it out. Something did tickle at the edges of his brain though. Then, Wynstand had been her best friend. Had that changed during the course of their marriage?

“So you wear that enchantment,” he said instead and she nodded. “How does it work?” he asked her curiously.  

“It’s intent-based. I wouldn’t suggest putting your hands on me if you are angry,” Oriana explained. “Or doing more than kissing me, at least until I have restructured it,” she mumbled under her breath. 

Oh. 

“It’s a chastity device?” he asked her and she grimaced. 

“Of sorts,” she allowed finally. “There is a price to pay for this kind of protection.” He didn’t doubt that for one moment. 

“It didn’t do anything to me right now,” he said carefully and Oriana sighed. 

“You didn’t want to do anything but kiss me,” she pointed out.  “And I wanted you to kiss me. So the enchantment didn’t need to do anything.”

“And if you didn’t want me to kiss you?” he asked her curiously. She grimaced. 

“You would have been shoved away…and then more and more violently repelled. If that didn’t stop you… you probably would lose a limb. Or your life,” she admitted, sounding less than pleased with it. 

“That’s…genius,” he said with wonder. It wasn’t like it would immediately go in for the kill. It would give ample warning. And really if somebody didn’t top after the first time they could live with the consequences. 

“You think limb removal is good?” Oriana asked him with a snort and Azriel just shrugged.

“If they don’t want to lose their hand, they should learn to keep their hands to themselves.” 

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Happy Ending | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Note: This has been ghosting around in my head for some time now because of the song "Wallpaper" by Megan Cromwell. I noticed that whenever I don't have the pressure of a request in the back of my head for a story it's much easier to write. That's why I wrote this rather easily and quickly. I just wanted to post something again lol. So yeah, have some good ol' super dramatic angst. I'll be more active again hopefully.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Unrequited Love, Mentions of NSFW Stuff, Trauma, Reader has some Issues

Summary: Ghost wants a happy ending but not with you.

Word Count: ~2k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Call sign: Vigil

"We can't do this anymore."

You had known from the start that sleeping with him was a bad idea.

Generally, people advise you against sleeping with a co-worker. Because it makes things complicated. Even more complicated when you're both in the military.

Because technically you’re not allowed to fuck, your actions could be clouded by emotions, potentially risking not only your but the lives of your fellow operators as well. But that little clause in your contract was printed in that tiny font, and so you decided to ignore it.

It didn’t stop you from getting involved with your lieutenant. You were never a big fan of rules after all. Your rank as a sergeant after so many years of service in the military said enough about that.

But at the start, you truly believed that a physical relationship with him wouldn't cause trouble to you or anyone else.

You thought you had it under control. At least in the beginning.

Yes, you had been attracted to him since your first meeting when you had signed your contract with Taskforce 141. Mysterious men were your thing, and he embodied such a man with his skull mask.

So yeah, you did allow yourself to daydream about him, and have some dirty thoughts every once in a while. It wasn’t like you were the only one.

You were attracted to him and you knew he was attracted to you. It was mutual and actually pretty obvious.

You could feel his searing gaze on you just a few days after you had joined the taskforce; the way his eyes trailed up and down your body. The looks he gave you were charged with want.

But attraction doesn't necessarily lead to a romantic relationship, right?

He was a good-looking man in your opinion; tall, rugged, buff, with muscles and fat in the right places, just the way you liked it.

His face couldn't be considered conveniently attractive yet that made it so much better for you. The arch in his brows, the dark eyebags, the scars on his cheeks, his cheekbones. He was your type. And his rough appearance fuelled the fire in your lower stomach and your imagination.

What was the harm in joining him in the sheets and having a bit of fun? It wasn't like you loved him.

That’s what you had asked yourself.

It was much better to get rid of your pent-up frustration with him instead of a toy or a rare one-night stand when you were off-duty.  And damn, was he good in bed.

Rough, fast-paced, keen to try out every possible position, and not shy of pleasing you. You could've expected it. He was a man who wasn't afraid to get down and dirty. Dirt, blood, sweat, and other fluids... It didn't matter.

Short summary: It was pure ecstasy every time.

You two had lots of fun together in lots of different positions and locations, and that was all it was. Just some fun.

No strings attached, as you both declared at the start. Just fuckbuddies.

"I'm not a relationship kind of guy, Y/N" he had told you after you had spent your first time together.

You had snorted because shit, you weren't either. Both of you were too broken and bruised by the baggage of your pasts. Your traumas would probably weigh you both down in the long run. So you were fine with the line he had drawn between you.

It was okay. No emotions, no obligations, no lovey-dovey shit, just a means to an end.

Just a meeting in your room after a mission, a phone call on your days off, then a quick meet-up in a hotel. Just pleasure. Not love.

Until it wasn't just that anymore.

You two had settled into a routine where he would join you in your room late every other night.

After you had pleasured each other enough, he would leave soon after, and somehow - with time, you began to miss the warmth next to you on your bed.

The feeling came slowly creeping, and it took you by surprise.

You never asked him to stay; you didn't dare cross the line. To ask for a bit more affection. But you wished.

That he held you just a bit closer during the act. That he remained next to you just for a few more minutes after it. That he kissed your scars, your lips. That he touched you as if you were something, someone precious to him. Someone important.

Sure, you liked it when he treated you like an unbreakable object when his grip left bruises on your body - in a way, they satisfied your need for more. They marked you as his. But just for once, you wanted to be treasured by him. To feel that you meant something more to him.

You didn't know when your feelings for him had turned into a fluttering mess in your chest. He wasn't just a means to an end anymore. You valued him. Not just as a soldier who had your back. Not just as a friend. But as a man, a partner. A man you wanted close to you. For the rest of your life. No matter how long that would be.

Because Simon had done something no one else had been able to do before.

He made you wish. For a future. A future with him.

He made you wish to be better, to be a little less broken. To pick up the pieces that had once made you whole. You wanted to be better. A better version of yourself. For him. To have a chance to be truly happy. To get that fairy tale life others dream about – you once had dreamed about when you were younger, your shoulders lighter.

His attention made you excel, it made you stronger, faster, harder. You were just better when he was around. A better soldier, a better woman, a happier person.

And you thought, no, believed that he understood that. That he helped you to be better. That you needed him. Not just in your bed, but by your side. As your other half.

You both were people of few words, so you thought that through your actions, your eagerness during missions, and your gentle touches during your time together, you conveyed all these feelings. That he got it, saw how you felt about him.

But you never spelled it out. Never said; I've come to love you.

Just let these feelings simmer under your heart, hoping that one day he'd get what you felt for him.

"We can't do this anymore, Vigil."

You'd love to say that it came as a surprise when he, one day, called you to meet up and told you these words.

But you knew subconsciously. Felt it. Long before he actually said the words, they were coming.

His calls had been less frequent, his visits rarer, and to your confusion, his eyes began to look different whenever you saw him. They looked clearer, and happier.

Only after you saw him at the party after your successful operation in Chicago did you understand. He did look happier.

But not because of you.

And only then did you realize that your brain had played a trick on you. You were so consumed by your feelings for him that you didn't realize how big the rift between you two had gotten.

He laughed.

Simon Riley laughed heartily for the first time since you knew him. Not just one of his usual chuckles that he reserved for your or Soap's jokes.

No, true deep laughter that came from deep within his chest.

And all because of a joke that the woman next to him had told him.

You didn't know her; you had never even seen her face before. She was a complete stranger to you, and yet Ghost rested a hand on her hip as if she belonged to him. As if she was his fucking girlfriend.

Soap looked at you, then who you were staring at.

"That's Ghost's new lass, I heard. Can't believe that guy found someone before us, eh? Surprised me too, I tell ya."

His words were like poison, and you tasted bile in your mouth. So much made sense to you now.

"Why not? I thought you liked it?! I enjoy it every time."

"That's not relevant anymore. I'm just telling you, Y/N. This thing is done. I won't come here anymore."

"But-"

"Let's just forget this happened, alright?"

"...."

"Okay."

You hadn't even been able to argue. Or tell him your feelings.

After all, you were the one who said you could never be in a relationship with him or fall in love with him. It was pathetic to get back on your words and admit it in front of him.

So you just shut your mouth and accepted his words for the time being.

A tiny voice in your head whispered that you could tell him your feelings later when he calmed down a bit. When he started to miss you.

You knew the whole situation with Hassan was getting to him and the others, so you cut him some slack. You thought he would change his mind. Believed it. Blindly.

But now, here you were. Looking like a fool. Feeling like one. Being one.

And the thing was, you couldn't even say anything to him.

He was the one who made you happy. Who made you want to be better. Less traumatized, more whole.

You could see in his eyes that she was that to him. Not you.

So, what right did you have to intervene?

You wanted him to be happy, after all.

How could you deny him that? You both had gone through so much.

She seemed to be the complete opposite of you. She basically glowed in the room, her smile radiant, and her aura was light as if the world had blessed her to never know hardship.

Her frame was soft, and her skin unblemished, untainted by the cruelty and darkness that existed in the world.

You couldn't help but compare yourself to her.

Your cracks, the marks of your trauma, made themselves known through various scars on your body. Your hands were rough, covered with old blisters; so unlike hers, and you were all jagged and sharp edges, while she looked so cute and bubbly.

You could see her appeal, and it hurt to think that way, but in another world, in different circumstances, you could see her as your potential friend. She just had the appearance and aura of someone who people gravitated toward. A soothing soul.

In that sense, you could understand Ghost. Why he searched her side. But you fucking hated it.

As lovely as she seemed, right now in this bar; you couldn't help but despise her.

She took him from you.

A voice whispered in your head. The ugliness of that thought made you want to throw up, because didn't it prove that you weren't completely right in the head?

Ghost wasn't your property. He had his own free will, and just because she appeared didn't mean she stole him away.

After all, he never belonged to you anyway.

This was probably why Ghost didn't chose you, you thought to yourself. Your ugly jealousy and possessiveness were rearing their heads.

I wouldn't choose myself either.

You felt like crying, but you couldn't even do that.

You hadn't cried for years now, and although the pain in your heart was worse than any of the bullet wounds you had received during your career, not a single tear welled up in your eyes.

You were truly broken. And the man who could fix you wasn't at your side. He would never be.

You looked at the two of them once more. An ugly thing clawed at your chest, begging to get out. Your vision turned red. You clenched your fists.

You had to get out of here. Now.

"You okay, Vigil?" Soap asked next to you, noticing that you seemed a bit off.

"Yeah. I just- think I didn't turn my stove off. I got to go."

You mumbled before you turned around and hurried to the exit of the bar. Soap tried to protest, but you were out the door before he could even finish his sentence:

"But you just arrived- Damn... off she goes."

He sighed and looked towards that woman and Ghost. They made eye contact. As if Simon was already looking at him. Or you.

[karekuat]

Artist Support

Hey! Are you maybe interested in helping out a trans Indigenous artist for a little bit?

Due to complicated circumstances with my usual day job, I'll be out of work for the entirety of December, so as a result I'm going to try and make it through the month by being sustained by my art. I'm starting to prep for the lack of income now, so as a start I think it would be really cool if y'all wanna either tip or donate to help me or get a commission depending on what's more viable for you!

Typically I do comms through my Discord server to keep it all organized, but since I'm really just looking to get this out and known I'm open to DM orders.

I'm most comfortable with detailed monster or creature art, but I'm willing to do character chibis or portraits, and while I'm not fully at my best with anthro art yet, I'm also willing to do that.

Complex armor and gun designs okay!

My prices vary on complexity of the individual piece

( ↑ Click for Better Rez ↑ )

If you'd also just like to support me with no strings attached or wanna give some Holiday gifts, I do have a Kofi tip jar!

I also have a brush pack that I'm creating in the works, so if you're a procreate artist interested in a bone-style brush pack, I will be making more updates on that as I work.

RB's would also help me out a lot ^^;

Thank you!

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 21 of ? | masterpost

word count: 4066 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I blinked, seriously caught off guard. That was too much to take in at once. First thing slamming me was anger—what did she mean by her and my dad being here to pamper me? Weren't they the ones who kicked me out? Cut off all ties? And now, they popped back into my life, not because they missed me or anything, but to wheel and deal for the family name and business—that was their concern. Concern that grandpa's "empire" wouldn't last with me at the wheel. Concern that I wouldn't know the ropes when the time came.

✦ summary: Nore's sense of normalcy unravels as her parents resurface, offering support for her dreams—with strings attached.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, complicated/kinda abusive family dynamics

✦ a/n: Hello! This part was a bit longer, and focused more on Nore's relationship with her family. I hope it helped understand her character a little bit better! I haven't included all the "lore" regarding her parents in the chapter directly but I recently made a post here explaining it a bit for anyone who's curious! I haven't been able to write a lot because I had some power/internet outage problems at home, but now that everything's back to normal I hope I can update more quickly! And we'll have some more James x Nore interactions on the next part :) Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!

✧ nobody's daughter, she never was, she never will / be beholden to anyone she cannot kill ✧

The next few weeks weren’t exactly easy.

Dave and I usually kept our relationship light; we rarely argued, and if we did, we patched things up quick. We got each other too well and just couldn't stand being apart for too long. We were young. We were in love. At that time, no issue seemed big enough to mess with that.

But this time, it was different . It's not like Dave was giving me the cold shoulder, but I could tell he was still feeling the sting from everything that had happened with the album and his songs. He started isolating himself more and more, hanging out at David's place for long stretches, diving into his new band. When I tried talking to him about what was going on, he'd just smile and steer the conversation elsewhere. It was like all that easy, spontaneous intimacy we had from the beginning was vanishing, slipping through my fingers like water. 

And it freaked me out.

Being away from my cousin and my friends didn't make things any easier. I knew they had my back, but it's not like I could spill my guts to them over the phone about Dave. Since I'd left home, I'd felt sad and angry a bunch of times, but by September, I was more down than I had been since I first moved in with Cliff. Still, I held onto the hope that things would get back to normal soon.

Little did I know what the end of the year had in store for me.

It kicked off with a surprise phone call one evening. It was nighttime, and Dave and I were catching a break, chilling and watching some random movie on TV while sharing a cigarette and a beer when the phone decided to ring.

"I'll grab it," I said, jumping up from the bed. Dave gave a nod, his brow furrowing as he focused on rolling another joint for us to share. I rushed to the living room, picking up the phone. "Hello."

"Ellie?" a voice I knew too well replied, making my heart race and my jaw drop in surprise. "Is it really you?"

"Dad?" I blurted out in shock. In the whirlwind of my new life, getting a call from my father after nine months of radio silence was probably the last thing I expected.

"Hey, Ellie! So, this number is really yours. How've you been?"

"I... I'm okay, but... Dad, what's going on?" The words tumbled out, confusion turning into genuine concern. If he was calling out of the blue, something serious must have been up, right? I couldn't think of any other reason.

"Can't a dad check in on his daughter?" He said it casually, like it was no big deal. I furrowed my brow, annoyance quickly replacing my concern.

"You haven't said a word to me in months," I shot back, my voice shaking a bit, my eyes threatening to fill with tears as a whirlwind of emotions churned in my chest — first of all, anger. But then hurt. Confusion. And pain.

I glanced up at the sound of footsteps, spotting Dave leaning against the bedroom door frame with a lit joint in his hand. He gave me a questioning look, his concerned brown eyes checking out my state. I sighed, motioning for him to hold on. He came over, wrapping an arm around my waist and planting a gentle kiss on my shoulder, which managed to coax a small smile from me.

"So, Ellie, your mom and I..." my father hesitated on the phone, sounding a bit unsure of himself. "We were thinking that maybe we've been too hard on you. We just got back from London..."

"You went to visit grandma?" I snapped, my anger surfacing in the way my voice cranked up. "That's what this call is about, huh? I'm guessing she wasn't thrilled to discover you kicked me out. Bet she and grandpa gave you a reality check!"

"We went to celebrate your mom's birthday. And yes, we saw your grandparents," my father went on, his tone getting a bit sterner. "We were just thinking... It would be nice if you and your boyfriend could join us for dinner sometime. You know, your mom misses you..."

"Oh, bullshit."

"She does. Eleanore, it was her idea to send you that motorcycle as a gift. She thought it might lift your spirits a bit. Maybe you'd swing by..."

"She's always pulling that stunt!" I grumbled, annoyed, cheeks warming with irritation. "I can't be expected to read her mind. And for the record, I didn't ask for whatever gift she sent my way!"

"I get it. Ellie, I get it," my father reassured, clearly trying to ease my frustration. "Look, I think she regrets laying it on you like that. Especially after talking to your grandma... She just wants to fix things."

"Then why didn't she just call me herself?"

"You know how your mom is. She thought maybe you'd be more open to hearing me out. And, hey, it's not like I don't miss you too," he said, explaining. I took a deep breath, still annoyed but conceding that my father had a point. I could have a conversation with him, but if it were my mom on the line, I might've just hung up. "Ellie, she's trying, alright? It's more effort than she usually puts in. Give her a chance..."

"She didn't give me any chances. Why should I be the one handing them out?" I questioned, my voice now getting choked up as my anger gave way to the underlying hurt I was feeling. My father sighed, seeming uncertain about what to say.

"You can come next weekend if you want," he finally replied, straight-up ignoring my question and making me groan in frustration. "I'll ask Marcy to whip up that pumpkin pie you like, what do you think? Mull it over, alright?"

Then, he hung up, leaving me with a heavy heart and an anguish that had been haunting me for months but that I just didn't want to face. I slammed the phone back on the hook, maybe a tad harder than I should have.

"Hey. What was that?" Dave asked, leaning his chin on my shoulder and pulling me closer, his arms around my waist. I sighed. "Was it your dad on the phone?"

"Yeah," I murmured, my voice trembling a bit. He nuzzled into my neck, planting a soft kiss on my smooth skin, his lips moving up to my cheek for another kiss.

"Babe, you know you can talk to me if you need to," he whispered. I sighed, pulling away a little to meet his gaze, a mix of concern and seriousness in his eyes. I managed a faint smile, the hurt in my chest blending with the happiness of having, even if just for a moment, the old intimacy between us. "What happened? What did he say to you?"

"I just... I hate this!" I finally let it out, a tear rolling down the corner of my eye and making its way to my cheek. Dave cupped my face in his hands, wiping it away with the tip of his thumb. "My family’s always doing this. They act like the stuff they do to me, the way they treat me, doesn't matter. Like it doesn't hurt me! It's messed up."

Dave sighed, pulling me closer in a comforting hug. I knew he didn't have all the words, but I could feel him trying to ease my pain. I sniffled, a few more tears streaming down my cheek as I buried my face in his chest.

"My dad invited us for dinner... Both of us, him and my mom," I laughed bitterly. "It's funny, isn't it? They kick me out of the house, and then they think they can invite me to dinner, like everything's normal. Like nothing happened."

"And do you want to go?" he asked, softly, his hand soothingly stroking my back. I shook my head with a sigh.

"I... I don't know. I think that's the worst part," I admitted, pulling away and meeting his gaze. "I'm so angry, but I still miss them. I think that's what hurts the most."

"That you can't help but love them, even though some of the things they do hurt you?" he murmured, and I felt my heart tighten at the bitterness in his voice. "Maybe you should go, Nore. Maybe it's a good chance for you to patch things up with them."

"I don't know if I want to do that," I whispered, and he gave a slight smile.

"Yeah, I get it. Come here," he pulled me close again, his lips meeting mine with an unexpected hunger that sent warmth through my body. I clung onto his arms tightly, my nails leaving small crescent marks on his fair skin, while his lips moved down to my neck, kissing a spot that Dave knew would make me sigh and shiver, forgetting, even if just for a moment, anything but his body against mine. He pulled away, his familiar crooked smile on his lips making my heart race as he lifted my chin with his hand. "You can think about it later... How about coming back to bed with me?"

The car screeched to a stop in front of the big light-yellow house. I sighed, feeling more jittery than I'd like, despite the chill evening and the sun setting, casting warm hues all over the landscape. I knew my decision to visit my parents in Long Beach with Dave's car was a bit of a rebellious move against their expectations, and I hated it. They probably anticipated me rolling up on the motorcycle they gifted me. Instead, there I was, with my boyfriend and his car — two things that could potentially give my mom a nervous breakdown.

Dave raised his eyebrows, whistling softly as he checked out my parents' garden.

"You fancy-ass kid. So, this is where you used to live?" He chuckled and playfully nudged my arm, but I could tell he was a bit surprised. He seemed to catch quickly onto my nervousness; his eyes instantly turned serious when he saw my expression. "Hey," he said, his hand gently holding mine. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. Okay?"

I nodded. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure why I agreed to visit my parents or let Dave come along and meet them. Maybe, despite all the drama and hurt, there was still a part of me that missed them. Perhaps deep down, I hoped they'd be proud of me — for standing on my own all this time, for finding someone who cared about me and loved me. For not turning out to be the failure they expected when they kicked me out, assuming I'd come running back at the first sign of trouble.

But deep down, I knew that wasn't happening.

"It's okay," I squeezed Dave's hand, attempting a confident smile. "We're already here, right? Let's do this."

Dave and I stepped out of the car, strolling across the well-kept garden until we reached the front door.I paused for a moment before ringing the doorbell. Then, the door swung open, and my dad appeared, beaming when he saw me, the blue eyes I got from him shining.

"Ellie!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. I blinked, a bit confused, but returned the embrace. He pulled back with a smile, seeming only then to notice that Dave was by my side. "Oh. You must be David?"

"You can call me Dave, sir," Dave smiled, shaking my dad's hand, but I could see he was a bit nervous.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dave. I’m George." my dad smiled, a bit more serious than before. "You've arrived just in time! Marcy is almost done preparing dinner. Let's go inside."

Dad walked in first, and I followed suit. Dave strolled by my side, holding my hand gently. He leaned in, whispering in my ear:

"Ellie? So, is that what your parents call you?"

"Just my dad. And I hate that nickname," I murmured, and he laughed.

As we strolled into the house, Dave scoped the place with raised eyebrows. The living room was cozy and rustic, sofas, armchairs, and rugs thrown together just right. In the corner, a shelf showed off my dad's vinyl collection. From there, you could head to the dining room through the side door or hit the garden through the glass door at the back. Upstairs, you'd find my parents' bedrooms, my old room, and the library where my parents spent most of their time when they were home.

"Ellie, why don't you give Dave a tour of the library? I'll summon your mom for dinner; she was introducing the new gardener to the plants," he said, jokingly. 

"Oh... Sure," I mumbled. After being away for so long, everything felt way larger and unfamiliar than it should — especially after bouncing around from the little room I shared with Cliff to Leanne's house and then my cozy spot with Dave. I watched my dad head out the back door. Dave linked his fingers with mine, sensing my nerves, and stroked the palm of my hand in soothing circular motions with his thumb. I raised my gaze and met his brown eyes, locked onto my face. "So, wanna check out the library?"

"Actually, I had my eye on something else," he grinned slightly, and I blinked, intrigued. "Your room," he clarified, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I want to see how you lived, you know? Before I showed up and changed your life forever."

I chuckled, rolling my eyes before tugging him along by his hand, leading the way to the stairs. We climbed up to the first floor, strolling through the lengthy corridor, passing several doors before hitting the last one right at the end. I twisted the knob, relieved to find that the door wasn't locked.

I sighed as I swung the door open, taking in the sight of my old room. The room was spotlessly clean and organized, meaning that my parents at least kept the place tidy. Next to the window, my bed was neatly made with the same sheets I'd left in a mess before heading to San Francisco. Above the headboard, posters of bands and movies adorned the wall. The door in the corner was open, showing my private bathroom.

Below the window, my study desk, with drawing and painting materials meticulously arranged. In the corner, a shelf with my books, records, and tapes, plus a TV and stereo. It stung a bit to look at it, to reminisce about all the time spent there; everything was the same, but I didn't feel anything like the girl who once called it home.

Dave seemed to understand the contemplation in my silence; he rested his chin on my shoulder, giving me a tight hug from behind before planting a kiss on my cheek.

"Nice room you got here," he remarked, and I laughed, a bit shakily, realizing tears were welling up in my eyes. Despite that, it felt good not to be alone. To have him there with me.

We quickly stepped apart when we heard a knock on the door. I turned around and found Alice, my mom's assistant, eyeing us with her serious gaze, her curly blonde hair pulled into a ponytail so tight it made me uncomfortable just to look at it. Of course, she would be here, I thought with a twinge of annoyance. She smiled, a cold and almost robotic smile.

"Welcome back, miss. Your mother is waiting for you in the dining room," she said, then turned and left, seemingly not even acknowledging Dave's presence.

I sighed, annoyed, feeling the anxiety in my chest rise in a wave of panic that subsided as soon as I felt Dave's fingers intertwining with mine again. He smiled at me reassuringly.

"Let's go," he murmured. "I guess it's time for me to meet your mom."

I stepped into the dining room hesitantly. It was funny how being near my mom always kind of intimidated me; she was everything I'd never been able to be, everything they expected me to be. I bit my lip as I spotted her, and she turned in our direction. 

My mother was probably the most beautiful woman I'd ever known, tall and statuesque like a model, with long, wavy black hair that reached her waist, a slim and charming face, and serious dark brown eyes. I was nothing like her — much more like my dad, shorter with brown hair, blue eyes, and a much less glamorous body.

"Eleanore," she murmured, with that familiar distinct accent blending Scottish and French. She walked toward me, holding my face in her hands, a faint hint of affection gleaming in her eyes before being replaced by disapproval. "Oh, God, what happened to your hair? Did you cut it yourself?"

"Leave the girl alone, Clémence," my dad spoke, sitting in one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, casually reading the day’s newspaper. He looked up, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "She's old enough to know how to take care of herself."

My mom pursed her lips slightly, then let go of my face. She shifted her attention to Dave.

"You must be David," she spoke resolutely. I could see the disapproval in her eyes shifting from me to him, like he was a pet she didn't really like but had to put up with. If Dave caught onto that, he hid it well. For the first time since we had met, he was completely serious, which probably meant he was a bit on edge. "Well, come along. Dinner is ready. We were waiting for you."

We sat down for dinner, and my nerves were all over the place. I could hardly taste the food, and it seemed like Dave was in the same boat. I reached under the table, giving his knee a reassuring caress. He shot me a smile.

"So, Dave... You're one of Cliff's friends, huh?" my dad asked.

I noticed Dave's jaw tense a bit, but he managed a polite smile.

"Yep, we used to share a place. That's how I got to know Nore."

"And what do you do? Are you a musician too? You know, I have a pretty large vinyl collection here at home. Love music. Always wished I had the time to pick up the drums," my dad kept the conversation rolling with a grin, and I could see some of the tension in Dave fading away.

They chatted about music for the rest of the dinner, and slowly, I started to ease up. Mom stayed pretty quiet, her eyes bouncing between me and Dave like she was trying to figure us out. But Dad seemed genuinely interested in getting to know my boyfriend better. By the time dessert was served, I almost felt like we were a normal family again.

When we finished eating, we cruised back to the living room. Dad and Dave went straight to the vinyl collection, and Dad put on a Led Zeppelin album, the music filling the living room softly. That's when Mom got up, giving my arm a light touch.

"Come with me, Eleanore," she said in a low voice before heading to the garden. I hesitated, glancing at my dad and Dave, still deep in their conversation, then decided to trail after her.

We wandered through the backyard garden, the flower beds and trees soaking up the gentle glow from the property's lamps. Mom sparked a cigarette with a sigh, and we drifted in silence until we hit the pool area. She eased into one of the lounge chairs under the covered spot before looking at me.

"Take a seat," she motioned to the chair right across from hers.

"I'll pass," I muttered, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you always have to complicate things?" she asked, and a surge of anger bubbled in my chest. Classic mom move: the woman who couldn't go an hour without emphasizing how I was a screw-up.

"Does Dad know you picked up smoking again?" I asked, a bit acidly. She looked up at me, a small, cold smile playing on her face. I knew my mom; she could front like she was flawless, but she had her flaws, just like I did. At least I owned up to mine.

"I smoke when I need to focus.You know how insane the end of the year gets at your grandfather's company," she shot back, sidestepping my question. "Or you would know if you cared about the family business instead of living in your love fantasy."

"My relationship is not a fantasy," I frowned, and she scoffed.

"If you say so," she flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it with the tip of her heel. "So, you know your dad and I just got back from Europe. I talked with your grandfather, and we came up with an idea... Oh, please, Eleanore, spare me that face. You haven't even heard what I have to say!" I tried to hide the displeasure that surfaced on my face. Nothing good ever followed when my mom claimed to have an idea. Never. "Well, as I was saying. Your dad and I think it's time for you to invest a little more in your future."

"Not this again," I grumbled. "Mom, I don't want to go to Law School!"

"I'm not asking you to!" she retorted, her tone sharp and irritated. Then she sighed, as if making an effort to calm down. "Look, we know you love art. You were part of the Theater Club in school, and you enjoyed your drawing classes so much! But I don't want my daughter to just finish high school and call it a day. It wouldn't be suitable ."

"And what's your deal, then?" I asked, getting a bit defensive. Until now, Mom didn't seem to be pushing me into anything specific, but I knew she never dangled anything remotely cool in front of me without expecting something in return.

"Your father and I are willing to pay for any course you want, at any university you want. What do you say?" she asked, a slight grin playing on her lips, but her eyes stayed icy. "You can study wherever you want! You can be close to your cousin, your new friends, your... boyfriend. Pursue the arts career you want. But," she raised an eyebrow. "you have to be aware of your role in the family business. So, you'll get involved in the day-to-day routine, learn the ropes, and be ready to handle everything when your father and I aren't around to pamper you. Fair deal, right?"

I blinked, seriously caught off guard. That was too much to take in at once. First thing slamming me was anger—what did she mean by her and my dad being here to pamper me? Weren't they the ones who kicked me out? Cut off all ties? And now, they popped back into my life, not because they missed me or anything, but to wheel and deal for the family name and business—that was their concern. Concern that grandpa's "empire" wouldn't last with me at the wheel. Concern that I wouldn't know the ropes when the time came.

On the flip side, it was kind of a tempting offer. I mean, having my parents backing my dreams would be awesome, even with a few strings attached. I used to dream about more than just ringing up customers in record stores; I missed the days when I had time to create , to be part of something. But, if I went for it, what would it mean for me and Dave? Would we drift even further apart?

I didn't want to dive into that mess. Too many details, too many what-ifs.

"You don't have to figure it all out now," Mom said, her tone soft, like she was reading my mind. "Whenever you want, Eleanore, you can come back home. We'll work things out then, okay? Just take your time."

With that, she got up and casually walked back inside, leaving me to grapple with my thoughts.

[three--rings]

You Should Watch Moonlight Chicken

Welcome to my formal rec of this show, which has stolen my heart so completely over the last few weeks.

What is it?

Thai BL series from GMMTV which has just finished airing (as of March 2, 2023). The characters all revolve around a chicken rice diner called Moonlight Chicken. It's got eight episodes a little over an hour each.

Couples:

Jim and Wen:

The main characters and couple are Jim (left above) and Wen (right). They meet when Wen passes out drunk at Jim's restaurant one night and they end up talking and flirting and then going home for a "no strings attached" one night stand.

Afterwards Wen is determined to attach strings but Jim holds firm to his "no complications" rule. Wen starts working part time at the diner in a not-at-all-sneaky plot to win him over.

Heart and Li Ming:

The adorable teen couple of Jim's nephew Li Ming, who he is raising, and Heart, a boy who has been extremely isolated since becoming deaf three years ago. They quickly develop a friendship and learn to communicate and it's heartwarming and adorable right up until it deal with very real issues of ableism.

Other characters:

Alan

He's Wen's not-quite-or-maybe ex. It's complicated. The show might be just as much about Wen and Alan as Wen and Jim, but theirs is a breakup story.

Gaipa:

He's a young friend of Jim, with a massive crush on him. Unrequited love and his relationship with his amazing mom is his focus. Standout performance from the actor.

Saleng:

The token straight. I felt bad leaving him out, okay? He's a good boy.

Okay but what's it ABOUT?

Life. Love. Relationships. Growing up, healing, building community and family even in the face of adversity.

Could you elaborate?

Okay look, the way the plot of this show was sold was "One Night Stand leads to complications when one of them already has a boyfriend?!? Drama!" Which is downright misleading. I showed up for messy gay drama and got a profound piece of queer cinematic art about the struggles of modern life and love and relationships.

This is honestly not your typical BL series at all. It really does feel a lot more like serious drama, queer film, etc than what we are used to. (I'm not saying it's ALONE...just rare.) It feels like a director/creator coming into their own and really stretching their abilities.

The cinematography is gorgeous, creating a quiet and pensive mood throughout. The acting is remarkable, excellent across the board with some real stand-out performances from the "side" characters.

The plot flirts with melodrama/soap opera turns but it always comes down on the side of grounded, realistic takes. I'll just say there are some moments that really hit me because they reflect experiences I've had in my life so well.

This show is very Adult to me. And by that, I don't mean steamy or sexy. It's really not, despite the first episode. It's a very chaste show, all things considered. I mean Adult in terms of These are Problems Adults Have. Dealing with the ending of relationships, getting over past relationship trauma, dealing with grief and loss, figuring out what you want in life, having to be there for your ex because they need you and you still care, etc. Just life, sometimes messy and painful, but ultimately beautiful.

If you can't tell I could go on for a while. But honestly, even if you're not a BL watcher normally, I recommend you give this a try. It's a feel-good show that will make you cry.

Okay where do I watch it?

Good news! The show is available for free on YouTube in its entirety! Just look for the GMMTV official channel.

Content Warnings under the cut to avoid potential spoilers but they will remain vague

Having sex while under the influence of alcohol but fairly lucid, cheating as a topic, breakups, ableism and parental neglect as a result, death of a partner, death of a parent, motor vehicle accident aftermath, age gap relationship(s)

[bugflies00]

rainduo's relationship is also very important because niki is like. the very first person wilbur had a close relationship with that wasn't his little brother or that he wasn't romantically involved with

this sounds like a very convoluted way to say she was his first friend BUT LIKE it's not really that because he's Had friends. he was sortof friends frenemies lovers rivals with quackity. tommy's his lifelong best friend. but all those have strings attached in a sense- with quackity it's obviously just very complicated, and he holds a lot of guilt and also a bit of resentment towards tommy for a bunch of reasons, despite how much he loves them both.

and this is not to say his friendship with niki was always smooth-sailing either, they've argued a lot and for a while she decided to completely step away from him (because she got sick of constantly getting caught in shrapnel from his self-destructive tendencies and constantly being pushed away) but they eventually grew back together and she forgave him.

but my Point is that having a relationship that was strictly a friendship, that didn't have those expectations like romantic love or family (especially family who's in your care like tommy) was Vital for wilbur. and they're there for each other in a lot of ways that others can't.

for niki, wilbur's someone who's always willing to hear her out and treat her normally, that means teasing her and annoying the shit out of her because he's an ass, but never treating her like she's fragile. and he always listens to her and that's the thing she wants the most, really, to feel like someone's actually interested in her and her goals and interests beyond just someone who's nice and sweet.

and for wilbur, niki is someone who's always able and willing to call out his bullshit but who never judges him. she's kind of a guiding force in a way, because she's got her head on her shoulders much more than he does, and she's obviously a very kind person. and he admires her a lot for that because she's also been through some shit, and yet she's still kind, not just to him but to everyone

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Can you ramble about gochi usa for a few paragraphs?

I think Gochiusa exists in kind of an interesting place within the meta of cute girls doing cute things anime, right. Cause a lot of cute girl anime have some sort of gimmick apparent within the very premise in order to stand out from the crowd, which can feel like a necessity given just how many cute girl anime there are. Sometimes it's a band, sometimes it's a sport, sometimes it's a hobby of some sort, hell sometimes it's that they're an isekai. You don't really get cute girl anime that just are cute girls doing cute things these days quite as often, it's always fairly specialised.

It shouldn't be said that Gochiusa doesn't have anything like this - your main hook in the synopsis is that it's primarily set within a coffee shop, and the two main characters' names are puns on hot drinks to lean into that. But that's kinda nothing, right? They're not fishing, they're not rifle shooting, they're not writing manga, they're not dedicated to one particularly complicated board game, they just kinda have part-time jobs. And the show is very much aware of that. So despite the coffee shop being part of the premise, the series as a whole rarely leans into it. It's mostly just cute girls doing whatever. Part of this is cause of its age - the manga started in 2011, even that long ago there was less competition and less need to set yourself apart from the premise alone. But it's still kinda noteworthy that it's a relatively modern cute girl anime without a core thing to set itself apart.

And that's where we get to the fun part. Without needing to be dedicated to one specific thing, Gochiusa kinda gets to do anything it wants without any real disconnect. They'll go to the pool, to the festival, to the halloween party, to the christmas party, to work, to just regular old school. There's no strings attached. It's just kind of normal. And since it doesn't need to justify anything it does, it can focus on just being really entertaining the entire time. The characters are adorable, the jokes are consistently funny, the slice of life is ultra-relaxing, the fuckin town it's set in looks like this

(stole these screenshots from here)

And while Gochiusa does all these normal things as pleasantly as other cute girl anime could only dream of, there's still a little bit of magic in the setting, of all things. Main character Chino's grandfather is currently in the body of a small fluffy rabbit. It's implied that other main character Cocoa accidentally did this when she was joking about casting spells as a child. It's not assumed that this is normal or anything, but for how supernatural that actually is it feels fairly incidental when you're watching the show because hey, who cares about the mechanics of this background magic when Cocoa and Chiya have got English homework to do?

It also needs to be said that a particular area Gochiusa excels in is that really every core character has a well defined relationship with one another, or in other words, there's no dynamic that goes unexplored. This is something that more cute girl shows struggle with than you'd think, but it goes a long way to sell you on group friendships and making the characters believable and shit. How differently does Syaro interact with childhood friend Chiya than she does with her crush Rize, or newly met friends Cocoa and Chino, you know? This even holds true for a good amount of the supporting cast too, whom happen to also be fun enough to carry scenes on their own without making me miss the main characters at all.

I'll say very briefly that the show does have a particularly rough aspect to it early on by way of some rather tasteless fanservice. It is thankfully only of the oldest character, but it's still far from necessary and pretty early on the series realises it doesn't need to operate like that in order to be enjoyable for the audience. So that gets phased out quick.

Past this point I start running into the issue of struggling to convey why I think something is especially good, because fuck me is it easier to talk about obviously bad stuff than obviously good stuff. And that's even harder with Gochiusa because nothing about it screams "yeah no I'm obviously good in an easy-to-describe way". It's a cute girls doing cute things anime without much of a gimmick, in written text format there are few ways I can come up with to actually sell that. And yet, the show's just really really good lol. On my most recent rewatch which was followed by season 3's airing, my face muscles started to get tired from smiling ear-to-ear every episode. Saying that out loud by the way makes me realise season 3 was almost 4 years ago - maybe I'm due for a rewatch lol.

Also as one last brief thing, Chino is just one of my favourite characters in any anime I've seen. Cute as hell design and I especially love her hair, that helps, but she also just has a nice simple character arc that happens across the series, without ever being overstated or anything since hey, Gochiusa is chill like that. Said arc is mainly one of a quiet introvert girl opening up and becoming more confident. She still enjoys her alone time and has solo hobbies the series respects, but she's also capable of taking initiative and making more of her own friends and such. It's nice. Also Gochiusa isn't immune to the passage of time so a lot of this stuff takes place over the course of Chino graduating from middle school and going into high school, which is something the anime hasn't fully gotten into yet but which a season 4 would cover, I imagine. Hopefully that can come soon - the series always does well enough to where I assume it'll happen one day.

Actual last thing just for fun

The dads look like this lol

[kfanopinions]

Choi Wooshik as a boyfriend (astrology based)

okay so i couldn’t find a birth time for him at all so I used the standard 12PM for his birth time. please know that some of this information may not be as accurate as it could have been. as per usual this is for entertainment purposes only so take everything with a grain of salt. thank you and enjoy 💕

pisces moon || aquarius venus || aquarius mars

before getting into this i want to preface that his moon and his venus kind of contradict each other in the aspect that one side is sorta the romantic/sympathetic/perceptive (pisces moon) and the other side (aquarius venus) is like WAAAAAHHHHTTTT???? O.o so please keep this in mind while you read. it's probably a mixture of everything all in one ^^ geez men are already complicated why do they have to be even more complicated -_-

hi, it’s me, i’m the problem it’s me he will most likely not feel very emotionally reassured in his relationships with his pisces moon. he just worries about everything and anything

i got you babe his pisces moon makes him aware (intuitvely) of his partners needs. it's almost scary how he can predict what his partner wants/needs/feels before they even verbally express it. that being said he may not act on it

feet firmly planted on the ground he's a very down to earth kind of guy and can relate to people's pain/sorrow very well

"i like angela, pamela, sandra and rita..." so he may end up cheating if he's 1.) around crappy/lousy people (he can be easily influenced by the people he's around) 2.) if his parents don't have the healthiest relationship he may fall prey to what happened with them aka divorce/cheating 3.) if he's a sociable person (his aquarius venus likes to be social too so he may have lots of friends) but the majority may be women and if he seeks solace and comfort from these women... yeah he may cheat on his partner. AND 4.) if his partner doesn't give him the love and support he needs

i do want to note that points #2 and #3 are both with his venus sign as well

"soooo romantic~~~~" his love and feelings run deep and he displays this by being on the slight romatic side (i say slight because of that aquarius venus)

helpful hand he's the type to want to help out the people he loves and help people in general

simple and kind-hearted

a little fight never hurt anyone so he might be a little bit of a pushover for the person that he likes. his pisces moon will put his feelings to the side and do everything and anything that he can to make sure that his partner is happy and enjoying themselves. so yeah... while this sounds nice his feelings matter too

if you ask i will tell along with being perceptive he's also a deep thinker but won't voice out his opinion/thoughts/views unless he's asked to do so and boy will his partner be blown away

loves witty conversations and would love to discuss this and just have fun talking with his partner

eccentric tastes his aquarius venus may have interesting hobbies or he may end up liking very unorthodox things

did i say romantic? yeah his aquarius venus isn't mushy gushy oh baby i love you so much. his idea of loving someone right is probably with an intellectual debate XP

detached with his aquarius venus and his aquarius mars he can have a detached/disinterested vibe about him so this is something to keep in mind

competitive like my mom always says 'just let the guy win. even if you know you can take him to the cleaners...let him win... it might hurt his ego if you beat his a** to badly' yeah he might be a pouty sore loser XP

below the cut (18+)

if you are not over the age of 18, do not interact this section is not meant for you. thank you

promiscuous man... perhaps... may not be as sexually promiscuous as one would think. his aquarius mars doesn't really "need" it as much as other signs and he's also pretty detached anyway

no strings attached this is could be something he prefers as opposed to an actual relationship. possible friends with benefits type of relationshp

open relationships anyone? again this is from the mere aspect of not wanting to be tied down to someone and needing to be there "emotionally"

talk talk talk that's all they want no but seriously he may actually need to have his mind busy while doing the deed so a conversation could happen

spontaneous and "interesting" k*nks

ankle massage... giving the ole calves a massage too... i'm just saying *wink wink*

s*xting/phone s*x

[hazbincalifornia]

Better

Chapter 53: Loona has a chat with Stolas.

Ao3 link

Blitzo blinked awake in a bed that wasn’t his own. The springs didn’t creak as he pushed himself up with a groan, which in itself was unusual- usually, when he woke up somewhere weird, it was some grimy apartment with somebody drooling all over his chest. Now, however, he was alone but for the lingering scent of sweat and preening oil. Stolas had been here.

Glancing around, memory filtered back in- right, right, he was at the new apartment. The walls were still sparsely decorated. He’d thrown up a few pages of doodles from the office with tape, but they lay lonely atop the paint- he needed to get frames, or at least fun stickers.

“It sucks,” Loona said from around the corner.

Blitzo leaned forward before shifting off the bed, trying to step lightly. He eased himself around the door to see Loona sitting on the couch that was partially angled away, toying with something in her paws with Stolas next to her.

“What sucks?”

“Besides you sucking his dick?” Loona said, and Blitzo couldn’t help a half-grin at how easily she retorted, tail swishing back and forth. That was his Loonie, all right.

Stolas cleared his throat, brushing away a dotty flush. “Er, yes, besides that.”

“All of this. The apartment is nice, sure, but all of this has been a huge fucking mess.” Her shoulders shifted as she continued to move something around. “Neither of us are ready for a fucking baby, even if he thinks he is all of a sudden. Babies are stupid, useless lumps that just cry and shit and hate you and cry more.” There was the slight warble to her voice that mostly came after she’d had a few drinks but sometimes when she was just thinking more than usual, but he was too far away to smell if there was any alcohol on her breath. “It sucks.”

At that, Stolas sighed. “It’s been… difficult, I won’t deny that, but I intend to be there to help him. I know he sees you as his daughter, and I don’t intend to get in the way of that.”

“Yeah. Don’t.” Her arm jerked, and when a flash of gray flew up and fell back down again, he realized she was tossing around one of the horse dolls that he’d made of her. “Shit’s complicated, we don’t need you butting your head in about it.”

“I won’t,” Stolas said, shifting around on the couch. “Is there anything that I can do for you, though?”

Loona thought for a moment.

“I’m not going to complain if you give us more free shit as long as there aren’t strings attached, but I don’t want the kid left behind. Blitzo tries, but kind of sucks at being a dad a lot.” Red fingers tightened against the wall. “You’ve been one for a while, right?”

“Seventeen years. I was a few years younger than you, I believe- how old are you again?”

“Twenty-two.”

“I was eighteen going on nineteen when we had Via. She’s been the light of my life, and I intend to be there for the new child as well.” He paused. “Blitzo said that you came from an orphanage, or something of the like. Nothing like that will happen to them, I can promise you that.”

“They’d get torn to shreds, a freak like that,” Loona scoffed.

“That would be… not good,” Stolas said, somewhat lamely. “I… I hope that you can have a… constructive relationship with them.”

“I’m not going to kick the crap out of them, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She held up the doll before squeezing it, distorting the shape slightly as her claws dug in. “I don’t want this. I liked how things were. But you know what, if he wants a fucking baby, that’s his fucking business as long as he doesn’t kick me out, right?”

Stolas reached out his hand before it dropped. “He was worried about you.”

“Yeah, which was why he decided on keeping it without even asking?” Loona’s head bobbed a little, and Blitzo swallowed, shoulders tensing. He knew it, he knew that this was still going to be a problem, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, think think-

“He’s… impulsive at times, you should know that,” Stolas said, and Blitzo barely suppressed the urge to hiss even though it wasn't like he could disagree. “But he pushed against the thought of keeping the child for months, so he must mean it now that he’s taking this seriously.” He paused. “Where did you get that little doll?”

“Oh, this thing?” She tossed it over to Stolas, who had to fumble to catch it. “He’s made like eight of them.”

“That’s sweet of him. He made one for my Via as well.” Stolas turned the horse over in his hands. “I don’t know if you plan to remain with him for long.”

“I’d be pretty dumb to give up on free rent and free rides,” Loona said, looking away in the way she always did when she was lying about something.

“Do you see him as your father?”

Her ears fell low as she growled. “I told you, shit’s complicated. He wants to be a dad, and I- look, he doesn’t know what to do to be a dad except smother me and drag me to work with him, considering what little I’ve figured out about his dad sucked ass. That kid is going to be even worse off since at least I knew some life lessons from that shithole they called the Foundation, but that’s not my problem, alright? Smothering the shit out of a baby will just result in a spoiled brat, but it’d be better than treating me like I’m five.”

Blitzo swallowed, fingers drumming on the wall before he stilled them. He didn’t want her hurt, that was all. Was that so wrong? This was a different kind of hurt, but he’d been trying not to make her deal with the shit he’d had to.

“She’ll be your sister,” Stolas said quietly, and her gaze fixated pointedly on something in front of her.

“Yeah. Sister. I’ve never needed one of those before, and I don’t need one now.”

“You don’t have to need a thing to find value in it,” Stolas said. “I know what it’s like to feel like something is closing in on you, and not having any choice in your own fate. But Blitzy cares deeply for you, and he’s come around to caring for the baby.” His voice softened in a way that made Blitzo’s heart skip a beat. “There’s so much beauty in him, and how much passion he has for life, taking it by the neck and strangling it until it submits… there’s enough of that lust for life and love inside of him for all of us, little h-Loona.”

Her ear twitched, and her tail smacked against the cushion as she pulled her legs up. “You’re the fuckin’ baby daddy, sure you think that. This whole thing is a mess, don’t pretend it isn’t-”

“Of course it’s a mess!” Stolas interrupted, raking a hand through the feathers atop his head. “If it wasn’t a mess, I would have moved both of you into the palace months ago, my wife would have already been gone, and we would have planned this from the start, not had it happen from a drunken hookup. But it’s here now, and all we can do is try to make things as right as we can.” He held the doll up, examining it in the light. “I want the child. I’m going to be there for her to support her and I’m glad that he is now too, but… I regret the fact that it’s hurt you and my Via.”

“Yeah, well, you should,” Loona said, but tilted her head as he kept looking at the doll. “You should have seen the first one he made, the head was like the same size as the body and it kept falling over. He cried like a little bitch-baby when I tried to throw it away, so it ended up in his office, I think.”

“Even things that are a little lopsided deserve love,” Stolas said. “I think it’s charming that he makes these little creatures, and that he’s made several for you.”

“It’s just something to do. He draws all of us, this isn’t all that different.”

“It’s still sweet,” Stolas said, before setting it down on the coffee table. “...You’re more than just a little toy to be tossed aside.”

“What?” She bristled. “The fuck did he say to you?”

“He hasn’t said anything of the sort, but I’ve realized some things, and you remind me of him.” Stolas met her eyes. “You mean a lot to him. I don’t want the baby to interrupt that.”

“Like you’d know anything about that.”

“I know more than you think.” He stood up. “He’s doing his best. Sometimes it’s a messy best, yes, but none of us are exactly scrubbed clean.”

“Right,” Loona said, but as she folded her arms, he could see her tilt her head slightly, thinking. Stolas moved to ruffle the hair between her ears before (wisely) thinking better of it, offering her the doll again instead.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I hope that the child won’t lead to the two of you losing each other.”

“It wasn’t gonna,” she muttered. “I’m not getting kicked out that easily, I just wanted him to fucking say something before choosing this for both of us. I'm sick of him acting like I'm just a blow-up doll of a kid so he can pretend he didn't fuck something up in his life.”

“I think it surprised him as much as it did you, but he’s trying to make up for it now,” Stolas said, and she pinched the doll to try and get it back to its normal proportions.

“We’ll see.” She paused. “It’s kind of ugly-cute. You should see the one he made of you, it’s ugly as shit.”

“He’s made one of me?”

Loona just snorted out a half-laugh and told him to ask, and Stolas watched her for a moment before turning towards Blitzo and catching his eye. Blitzo barely resisted the instinct to let out a squeak, ducking back into the bedroom. “Perhaps I will. I’ll see if he’s awake yet.”

“I’m gonna see if I can figure out the new TV,” Loona said, and Blitzo heard the couch creak slightly as he pushed himself up on the bed. Oddly enough, the sound was almost comforting- something being slightly lived-in helped to break up the sense of everything being scrubbed-new.

Stolas ducked under the doorframe. “Did you have a nice rest?”

“Not bad,” Blitzo said. “It’s still going to take some time to adjust to not having roaches crawl up my ass- they were great as budget vibrators, y’know.”

Stolas muffled a laugh of his own before sitting down. “How much did you hear?”

“...A lot,” Blitzo said with a sigh, slumping backwards and feeling his belly settle like a lead weight. “Being a dad is fucking hard, and I just- I don’t want to fuck her up worse than she’s already fucked up.”

“Which one?” Stolas asked, and Blitzo groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Both of them. Loona mostly, she was so twitchy those first few months I wanted to go back and burn the fucking place to the ground, but the little squirt too. ” He rested one hand on his stomach. “Babies are dumb and impressionable and-”

Stolas leaned forward and pecked a kiss on his lips. “And you’ll do your best, I’m sure.”

“I was.” His hands fell to the sides as he stared up at the ceiling. “I was doing my best, but she still only calls me dad when something’s gone wrong. Shit’s complicated.” He planted his palms, arms wobbling a little as he shoved himself back up. “I want to be the dad that both of them deserve.”

“You think that I knew what I was doing?” Stolas said. “I was eighteen and things weren’t-” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Weren’t great with Stella. But through it all, Via became an anchor, and trying to focus on what she needed… she’s become a wonderful young woman, even though this has been a bump in the road. You started later than I did, that’s all- and I’m sure that once she’s born, that love that you have for your Loona will shine through for both of them. You care. That means more than you think.”

Blitzo’s fingers curled before he nodded, once and then harder a second time. “Yeah- yeah.” He looked down at his stomach. ”Your daddy’s gonna be better for you and your big sister. I’ll- I’ll try not to smother her as much, and I’ll teach you to be the coolest little bitch this side of Greed, and I’ll be the kind of daddy you can be proud of, promise. That sounds good, right, cupcake?”

It took a few seconds before there was a little nudge, but he smacked a kiss where the movement had come. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

[bats-after-dark]

XIAOBAO WHIMPERING WIFE, the man has a wife kink, it's essentially canon and this point. And yes to buying Huaien everything! That he doesn't even need! Because all Huaien needs to be content is to be at Xiaobao's side, but I can so well see him become overwhelmed by the general indulgence of it, like what do you mean he's not only getting what he needs to stay alive, but love and all of these extras too? (Also, Xiaobao should lovingly suck him off while he's dressed as the wife, you know, just by pushing the robes aside a little. No need to undress for that.)

I have a lot of thoughts about painplay! But they’re very undefined. I think there's a lot of potential, but that things could be complicated because of Xiaobao's whumpy past, and I think it was implied that he was left with some chronic pain he needs medication for. Idk why my sex vault fodder is getting emotional again, but it would probably mean a lot of him if he got a break from all that and it was Huaien giving him the pain, in moderation of course. But I don’t have any clearer ideas.

Xiaobao desperate to get on his knees and suck his wife off! Yes!!!! He is not getting Huaien to their bedroom; everyone is just going to have to deal with possibly walking in on them in any possible room, hidden in an alcove AT BEST. (Huaien finds all the gifts kind of overwhelming and weirdly emotional. At first he’s convinced it’s performative, some kind of guilt from Huaien giving up being emperor and Xiaobao having yelled at him, like, two times. No, nope, Xiaobao is just a wife guy.)

Speaking of taking a hard right turn into feelings town, I do think Huaien gets incredibly emotional abt all the little gifts. No one has ever gifted him anything without strings attached before. Even Xiaobao’s early gifts were effectively meant to win Huaien over. But these are just…gifts because Xiaobao loves him.

Ohhhhh, painplay as pain that Xiaobao has control over! As a way of exerting control over his body and also a certain surrender to Huaien, knowing that he will take care of him and he’ll feel better afterward. Mmm, I can see it! (And also just sometimes smacking Xiaobao’s ass while Huaien is fucking him for the hell of it. XD)

[x-ceirios-x]

Ebony Neave

General

Name: Blaine “Ebony” Neave

Nickname: Ebony

Age: 17 (v1-2)

Gender: cis male

Race: human

Symbol:

Affiliation(s): Team NCRM. ruby’s group, formerly Beacon Academy

The Character’s Appearance

Height: 6’3”

Eye Colour: blue-gray

Hair: black, cut short in the back but some bangs hang in his face. Usually parted in the middle. Very straight hair

Complexion: medium-light tan

Picrew 1 2

About The Character

Status: active huntsman, alive

Occupation: huntsman, former student

Handedness: ambidextrous. Will use this to drive people nuts when taking notes

Clothing: white shirt, black bomber jacket, dark blue/black jeans 

Outfit Colors: whites, blacks, browns, a little blue for the jeans

Accessories: silver dog tags, black aviators, has his ears pierced in a few places & has an affinity to occasionally wearing rings

Personality

A generally charming guy, and he’s easy to get along with. He’s pretty much an open book and enjoys getting to know as many people as he can. Ebony has a certain wanderlust and wants to travel everywhere he can, as well as learn what he can. Upon first meeting, he doesn’t seem like the academic type, but he genuinely loves learning, despite his average grades. He’s never gotten along well with school and prefers to learn things practically than from a book. He’s confident and knows he’s attractive, and uses this to chat with girls (and occasionally guys). 

Likes: water, swimming, being outdoors, sparring, practical exams

Dislikes: reading & homework, generally dry/hot places

Fatal Flaw(s): Naivety. He doesn’t really understand how the “real world” works and his want (almost need) to keep everyone happy all the time makes him a little easy to manipulate. 

Strengths: long range combat, communication, talking his way out of tough situations

Weaknesses: close quarter combat, video games, essays

Weapon

Weapon Name: Arciere

Weapon Description: glorified water gun. His weapon is in two pieces that attach to become a bow. The string and pieces that hold it to the rest of the bow come off and attach to his belt, and with the pull of a lever it turns into a gun that he loads with water. His semblance makes his ammo so he rarely runs out. 

Relationship With Others

Reputation: People generally enjoy talking to him. He gets decent grades and teachers like him when he’s paying attention, though they don't appreciate his enabling of Coal’s antics.

Friends: His friends enjoy his company and he’s typically the life of the party, while also being a voice of reason. He’s not likely to get into too much trouble, but a little danger is good for the soul. He’s an enabler and will let people do stupid things and help pick up the pieces later. 

Team: The people closest to him. He and Coal get along famously, with Ebony being able to talk him out of trouble pretty often. He feels like Matina is hard to read, but he cares about her like a little sister. Roza…his feelings about her are quite complicated in the beginning. Lots of good complicated feelings though. Over time, they become more than just teammates and partners, but fall in love and no one’s ever made him happier. 

Enemy(ies): He’s a skilled fighter and doesn’t back down from a fight, so if a rival is challenging him, he’ll be ready to go. 

The Character’s Abilities

Agility: 6/10

Swordsmanship: 7/10

Long Range Accuracy: 9/10

Defense: 5/10

Offense: 8/10

Aura: 7/10

People Skills: 9/10

Semblance: Water manipulation. He can create shapes out of water near/around him, pulling water off or out of things nearby. He uses it mostly to make ammo for himself, but also to entertain friends with miniature dolphins flying around the room. 

History

Ebony grew up in one of the smaller towns inside Vale, dreading the school year and enjoying summers like any average kid. Typically, he spent summer at his aunt's house, swimming and playing in the lake she lived on. There wasn’t an evening he came in without his fingers pruned into raisins, and he didn’t want it any other way. 

He decided, after years of filling his head with fairy tales and stories from his mother, he wanted to become a huntsman around 12, wanting to live a life of danger and adventure. Whatever he got wrapped up in along the way, he could figure it out later.

Trivia

Really good swimmer & was a lifeguard over summers as an older teenager for some extra money

More to be added

[fireandiceland]

wake up ladies (gn) new brainrot dropped yesterday and I still dont have many coherent thoughts but..

Gil runs into Arthur and Allen making out in their usual smoking spot behind the school and he's like "oh uhm okay.. sorry, I will.. okay" and is about to leave when Arthur grabs his arm and stops him because "oh we're not like.. together. It's just.." -looks at Allen searching for help- "It's just practice!"

[crumbledcastle28]

Javier Peña: Touch

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: just a collection of little things Javier does for you to prove his love. He’s never been good with words, but he makes up for it in touches.

Warnings: allusions to sex and masturbation, lots of lovey dovey stuff, kissing, swearing, protectiveness, the reader is the (eventual) wife of Javier as well which I love, and Javier is hot as always. This is kind of all over the place (and the intro to the date is kinda long sorryyyyy) but I hope you enjoy!

A/N: Happy New Year!! Thank you to everyone who made 2021 so special. Amazing things are coming for 2022 :)

Also, I just wanted to say that my requests and asks are open!! If you’d like to share an idea or just start a conversation, I’d love to communicate with you. I can’t promise the requests will be done immediately, but I’d love to hear ideas and meet new people.

If you’d like to leave a like, reblog, comment, or ask, I’d love to hear from you <3

Din/Javier Masterlist

As cheesy as it sounds, Javier never understood the simple, yet priceless pleasures of physical intimacy until he met you.

He never had the desire to show affection in public, or purposefully stay in bed longer just to feel your sleeping frame next to his, or press his face against yours just to give your cheek one last kiss.

It was something about everything that you were, and everything that you did, that made him just desperate to be close to you. He wanted you all over him, and your scent to fuse with his no matter where he went. He practically worshiped the ground you walked on.

Him and you. You and him. It was like your skin was his kryptonite.

But it definitely didn’t happen overnight.

Holding hands

While Javier would consider himself relatively smooth with women, your first date made his stomach flutter and his jaw clench more than he expected it to.

You had pulled him in from the start. Everything from your body to your clothing to your somehow perfect face sent a blaring alarm off in his brain.

Fuck yeah. I need to talk to her.

He worked his way over to you, introduced himself with his rich, slightly southern accent, and from the first look into your eyes, he was hooked.

He didn’t know if he wanted to fuck you, marry you, or honestly, all of the above.

The two of you proceeded to make pleasant conversation throughout the night, in which he made a few “more than friendly” moves that you politely declined. Including an offer to spend the night as his place.

If only you knew how often you’d tease him for that.

Instead, you proposed a date.

“You know, like a thing two people do when they’re interested in each other? They actually talk? Like, over dinner? Are you familiar with this practice?” you asked him sarcastically.

“Yes,” he scoffed. “Yes I’m familiar.”

He wasn’t. He was full of complete bullshit. He hadn’t been on a date in…years?

“Well then, I’m sure we could work something out,” you said.

And that was that. You were going on a date.

What the fuck did he get himself into?

He doesn’t go on “dates.” Javier Peña was not known for romantic, candle lit dinners. All he was down for was sex, and that was that. Both parties involved would leave satisfied, and they would move on with their lives. Relationships and feelings were something that Javier just didn’t have time for, let alone the emotional capacity.

Sex was just…easy. Fun. Quick. A stress reliever. If he could fuck out his feelings, he wouldn’t have to actually feel them. Having strings attached would just make things too complicated.

But yet, there he was, knocking at your door at 6 pm on a boiling hot Colombian Friday night, to take you out to dinner. His treat.

He thought that what he was feeling was dread and embarrassment at the fact that he was completely inexperienced in this

It wasn’t until he saw your beautiful figure open the door that actual excitement bloomed in his chest.

And the date just took off from there.

He made you laugh, he bought you dinner, you told each other stories, you walked along the hot cement streets as the sun set, and he led you to your door. Smiling like an idiot.

“This was fun,” he said, standing behind you as you slid your key into your apartment door.

“It was,” you said, and turned back to face him.

“We should…do this again. If you’re up for it.”

“Yes,” you said, noticing how tense he looked. “Definitely.”

And that’s when the nerves hit him like a truck.

Should I…kiss her? I want to kiss her. Good God I want to kiss her. But maybe that’s too much. It’s definitely too much. Just because she’s known you for a few hours doesn’t mean she wants to kiss you Javier, Jesus. Will you calm down for fucks sake—

“Thanks Javi,” you said, and slid your left hand into his right. “I’ll call you.”

You gave it a gentle squeeze, before turning around and closing your door softly.

He just…stood there. Completely stunned.

He had to get your hand back into his. He had to feel the pressure of your slightly smaller hand in his calloused one, and feel the little hairs near your wrist with his thumb. It was so soft, like silk and satin somehow had combined onto your skin.

And from that day on, physical touch slowly started to become something Javier Peña, the Javier Peña, started to crave.

Kisses

A first date turned into three, a ten minute phone call turned into over an hour, and a casual relationship turned into dating.

He was actually dating you. And he couldn’t have been more anxious.

It was like he wanted it all at once, but at the same time, he wanted none of it. Holding your hand felt like some huge step, when it was actually only dipping his toe in the water. He tried to keep it slow, mostly because he didn’t want to fuck it up, but he was beyond desperate to get his lips on yours. Feeling the heat and breath of your mouth against his stared at him daily, like some sort of challenge.

And when you were the one who kissed him, it was like his first kiss all over again.

He was completely caught off guard, and didn’t even return the pressure until you pulled away and looked into his dark, coffee colored eyes. You could see the shock on his face at the mere peck, and you started to pull away in hope that it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big fucking deal.

Javier pulled you back in for a deeper kiss by your waist, and you gasped at the contact, but you then smiled into the kiss, and moved your mouth against his own.

He kissed you and kissed you and kissed you, never wanting it to end. If he didn’t have to pull back for air, he wouldn’t have.

If your first kiss proved anything to him, it was that he was in way deeper than he expected, and his kisses only got better as your relationship progressed.

Again, Javi wasn’t the best with his words. You knew that going in, and so did he. He wasn’t proud of it, and he did try and work on that throughout your time together, but he did the best that he could with what he had.

It could have been anything from a small peck on the lips before leaving for work, or deeper kisses as you were watching a movie, or letting his tongue enter your mouth as he made love to you. Either way, Javi fucking loves kissing, and not even just your mouth.

One of his favorite things to do is forehead kisses and face kisses. He loves seeing how you get all flustered after he presses a bunch of kisses all over your face, and he especially loves the little groan you release if he hits one specific spot on your neck. He has your body mapped out head to toe with his mouth, and he will kiss anywhere and everywhere. Especially your stomach and thighs. He finds every single part of you sexy. Every single part.

And if he isn’t kissing you everywhere, he is feeling you up everywhere. Any possible way he can stroke or massage your body with his hands, he is there. He loves to lick your neck and massage your breasts at the same time, then slowly work his hands down your body.

Even if it isn’t a sexual situation, he wants to kiss you. Light kisses against your jaw when you are half awake are very common, and he loves to wake you up by giving you a hickey.

He just loves making you relax, and kissing you is one of his favorite ways to do that. He sees it as talking to you through his actions, proving to you just how much he loves you by kissing you harder and more passionately. What he can’t explain through his words, he can explain through his tongue.

But more on that later.

Anxiety

If there’s anybody who can understand when you’re anxious, it’s Javi. The man is a DEA agent. He gets paid to be observant.

On top of that, Javi is just a ball of anxiety anyway. He internalizes the vast majority of it, but his job and his stress tends to fester one way or another. He hates it.

So when he sees it poking its ugly head into you, he does everything he can to stop it. Everything.

He knows how much it burns from the inside out, and pollutes the brain with so much shit some days that it makes you almost break. He doesn’t want you to carry it all, so he refuses to let you.

“Talk to me,” he mumbles against your neck. If you want to talk, you’ll talk. If you don’t, he will work out the anxiety himself.

Whether that be through deep massages, scalp rubs, sex, showers, hot meals, or anything in between, he’s there. It’s like an instinct for him. He doesn’t see it any other way. His woman doesn’t deserve the kind of ghosts that plague him.

He notices your anxiety in private especially well, but seeing it in public was something that he learned overtime. This was mostly because you were just so damn good at hiding it.

Yes, Javi loved touching you more than anything, but PDA has never and will never really be his thing. Its not that he hates it, he just wants you all for himself. Call him selfish, but he doesn’t want any other man to see the kind of faces you make when he kisses you, or hear the giggly laugh that you release when he hugs you extra tight and lifts you in the air. He wants you and only you all to himself and his heart and his mind.

But when he sees you anxious, all concerns of vulnerability basically go out the window.

He first noticed you picking at your fingers when you were both out to dinner at a pretty loud sports bar. The two of you loved the food there, and the bartenders were always incredible, but this particular night was a bit more rowdy than the rest. It didn’t really bother him, he was used to noise and shouts, but it seemed to be getting to you. Your shoulders were tense, and your thumbs kept picking at the skin around your pointer fingers.

His eyebrows wrinkled, and he brought his mouth close to your ear.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling away from you to look into your face. His facial hair rubbing against your earlobe sent some chills down your spine.

“Yeah, I’m fine. More than fine,” you responded, but had a hard time meeting his gaze. Your hands rubbed up and down your jeans awkwardly, and Javi had an idea.

He placed his right hand on your somewhat bouncing knee, letting his fingers wrap around it fully, and pressed down ever so slightly.

He had touched your legs before (and the word “touched” is putting it lightly), but this was a foreign feeling for you. Like I said earlier, Javi doesn’t really do PDA. You understood that, and didn’t have a problem with it. So the fact that he was touching you this softly, and this openly in a crowded bar like this…

It meant a lot. It meant beyond a lot.

“Are you sure?” he asked one more time, making sure to keep eye contact. His brows stayed raised, as well as his big eyes with a begging expression, and a small smile floated across your face.

“I’m sure,” you said, and he nodded. He sat back on his seat, but kept his hand on your knee, even letting it drift up slightly towards your thigh.

It wasn’t for sexual touching, or even his own nerves, it was all for you. For you to know that he was there, he understood, and one glance in his direction would be enough for him to leave with you.

Let’s just say that little habit stuck around, and it became a surprise when he didn’t have his hand encompassing your clothed thigh in public.

Sleeping

Once again, cuddling in bed was something that Javi was just not accustomed to.

Before you, he would have sex with a woman, they’d exchange cash, and they’d go their separate ways. Getting off and leaving almost immediately was just an instinct for him.

And so the first night you slept next to him was almost more intimate than your first time having sex.

You started the night relatively close together on the mattress, but not touching each other. Your bodies faced each other, with you on your right side and Javi on his left, and it took only about twenty minutes for Javi to notice your breaths become even.

Javi wasn’t even close to falling asleep.

He made sure you were completely still before he opened his eyes, and he was met with something more priceless than he could even describe.

There you were, hair sprawled out on the pillow, mouth opened just slightly, forearms crossed in front of you, with deep breaths escaping your nose. The darkness of the room framed your silhouette perfectly, but not too much where he couldn’t see actually see you.

He could see you. He had always been able to see you.

He sucked in a deep breath, and let his eyes fall shut, letting the moment finally sink in, so much so a light mist came over his eyes.

There was so much warmth being spread across his chest, and no matter how many deep breaths he took, they were never enough to fill his lungs.

You were breathtaking. His absolute favorite view.

You mumbled something incomprehensible, causing him to widen his eyes and fear that he had woken you, but you instead inched your way closer to him. He instinctively opened his arms, trying to make sure he didn’t touch you, and your warm hands made contact with his bare chest. You tucked your head underneath his chin, and he had no choice but to slowly wrap his raised arms completely around your form.

He closed his eyes again, feeling his heart pound, and it only raised more when you pressed a chaste kiss against his chest.

“Goodnight Javi,” you mumbled, and pressed your body to his fully, feeling every inch or his skin against yours.

He gulped. “Goodnight.”

Javier Peña was once again speechless.

After that night, his body literally refused sleep unless he was touching you. Whether that be through spooning, your head on his chest, holding hands, you completely on top of him, or him completely on top of you (his personal fav because of your amazing scalp massages. His hair would be so supple), he needed you next to him in some capacity. Especially when he wakes up in the morning.

Everything from your warmth to your scent just relaxed his endlessly tense body into rest. You somehow had the capability to get him the most riled up, but also the most calm.

God he fucking loves you.

His Personal Favorite

No matter what he says, his favorite thing in the world is when you touch foreheads.

It first happened when you were laying in bed one night after a particularly bad day. His leads got him nowhere, and the violence and turmoil that he was forced to work under was seeping into his psyche. He said he didn’t want to talk, which you respected, and he just wanted to sleep. He fell asleep on his right side, and you fell asleep on your left, facing him as always.

He was barely on the precipice of falling under, before he felt the faintest catch on his nose, and smooth skin press against his forehead.

He fluttered his eyes open, confused and exhausted, but he saw your face through his blurry eyes, and blinked sleep away as best he could.

He realized that all you were doing was pressing your forehead against his, so lightly that he barely felt it, and he almost let his emotions overtake him when you did. It was the smallest gesture, but he knew you just wanted to comfort him and show him that he didn’t have to carry it alone.

And that memory became one of his most cherished.

He started to do that with you when he just didn’t have the energy to explain what he was doing or what happened or what he wanted to say. He would just hold your cheek, bring your forehead to his, and rub his nose against yours. You would breathe against each other and close your eyes.

It was the most intimate thing he did with you, but it was also his favorite.

Sex *SMUT WARNING*

Here is what we all have been waiting for.

There is no denying that Javier Peña is amazing at sex. It’s his favorite thing to do you with, but not for the reasons that he loved sex before.

Before, it was his favorite thing to do because of how much it got him out of the present. With you, he loves it because of how present you make him.

Sure he loves a good quickie, and he can get a little rough with you in the bedroom when the both of you are up for it, but love making is his favorite.

Slow, gentle thrusts into you as he kisses you passionately and runs his hands over your hips. Licking and sucking hickeys on your neck as you leisurely bounced on his dick, feeling every inch of you stretch for his length. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he brings you to orgasm. Eating you out with a vengeance, and refusing to stop until you beg him to. Making you hit orgasm over and over until you almost pass out from exhaustion.

He worships every inch of your body when he can, and the best sex for him is the one that can’t be done in twenty minutes. He has spent entire weekends in bed with you, just making love to you in every position he can.

He loves doing it in the shower too, and he loves to wash your body and your hair after he marks you with his come. He loves to see your eyes roll back as he has you against the wall, keeping your arms above your head with his right as his left keeps you lifted in the air.

On the couch is another one that he loves. He adores getting so lost in your body that he can’t even bring you to the bed. He wants you so badly that he just has to get your clothes off right there and then, he doesn’t give a fuck if it’s on the kitchen floor. He loves his bed the most, no doubt, but he will make love to his wife whenever and wherever you want it.

Javier is a love maker.

Hugs

Talk about a man who melts into hugs. He just completely folds. It just goes back to his lack of physical affection.

He didn’t start with full body hugs. The ones he gave were more awkward side ones, which made you giggle. But full body hugs quickly took their place.

He tucks his head into your neck, sucking in a breath of your hair, and wraps his arms around your waist. He rocks you back and forth in the hug, and sometimes lifts you in the air if he’s excited, but he just completely liquifies in your arms.

Wedding Ring

After the two of you were married, the hand holding and kissing of the knuckles was intensified by 10,000.

He would just catch a glance at the sparkly diamond on your hand, and all the memories of the best day of his life would come flooding back. The way you looked at him as you walked down to him, looking like an angel among women. Your vows to have him and him only for the rest of your life. How you cried as he said his own vows, and the feeling of your lips on his when the officiant said the words.

He loved rolling his thumb on the ring, and looking into your eyes when he did it. He would then pepper soft kisses all over your ring finger, and smile so wide his eyes squished. He loved when you did that to his hand as well.

His wife.

Honorable mentions

- he also loves when you straighten his ties for him, and he kisses you when you do it just to piss you off. “I can’t see when you’re kissing me Javi,” “I don’t want you to see me. I want you to kiss me.”

- he also sticks his hand in your back pocket and wraps his arm around your chair when he gets territorial in public. These are specifically for when he can see another man eyeing you up, and he will have none of that.

THE END

Taglist: (if you’d like to be added to the Javi or general taglist, please let me know!)

@leahkenobi

[townofcrosshollow]

Twine Sugarcube 101

AKA, all you need to make a Twine game (I swear to god)

I’ve seen a lot of people go “Twine is too complicated for me :(” and give up before they’ve even started. And that makes me sad, partly because they’re giving up on a really cool hobby, and also because that’s false! It’s absolutely not too complicated for you!

I think the problem is that people look up Twine, see the documentation, and go “There’s way too much there! I can’t learn all that!” Well guess what- you shouldn’t learn all that, at least not yet. As a beginner you can skip pretty much all of this:

(Ignore <<linkappend>> too, forgot to crop that one out)

That’s a lot more manageable, right? Below the cut, I’ll let you know how to use all those remaining important things to make your story! Warning- it’s quite long! You might want to read it in sections! And while I’ll try to keep it entertaining, it’s also a coding tutorial, so... y’know. Might not be the most exciting read if you aren’t trying to learn Twine.

Welcome to below the cut!

First off, make sure your story format is set to Sugarcube 2. On the right side of the home screen (with all your stories), click format and choose the one labeled “Sugarcube 2.x.x” then open a new story with the green button! Here’s what you’ll see and what it all means:

Passages are all like individual web pages that you navigate between to play the game. When they’re linked together they’ll be shown like this:

Anything you write in a passage will just be shown on screen as plain text, no code required! But if you want to make anything more than just one passage with a bunch of text, you’ll have to link passages together with...

Links!

A link is composed of two parts- the text you see on screen, and the name of the passage you’re attaching it to. These are enclosed in [[double square brackets]], with a vertical bar | or a little arrow -> between them. If you want to show the passage name instead of alternative text, you can just put the passage name in square brackets alone! So this in the editor:

[[Visible text|Passage name]]

[[Visible text->Passage name]]

[[Passage name]]

Will look like this in the story:

Visible text

Visible text

Passage name

And all of them will lead to the passage labeled “Passage name.” You don’t even need to create the passage- when Twine sees that you’ve linked to a passage that doesn’t exist, it’ll add that passage for you.

That’s all you need to know! Technically, all you need to do to make a Twine story is add those fancy links between passages. If you add your awesome writing skills, that story will be super cool!

...but you want to do some fancy shit, right? Well let me introduce you to the next step up in complexity,

Variables!

“Variable” is a fun, code-y way to say “a bit of information that can change.” You could say they... vary.

Variables are useful for keeping track of information. If the player chooses to be blonde instead of a redhead, you might want to bring that up again- but you probably don’t want to write an entirely separate story based on that choice, right? So instead you save that information as a variable.

In Twine, variables are written as words with a $ in front of them. So my hair colour variable might be “$hairColour.” If you just write the variable out without any code, Twine will print the information you put into the variable. So if $hairColour is set to “blonde,” this...

She had $hairColour hair.

Will become...

She had blonde hair.

The value in a variable can be a boolean (ie. true or false), a number, or a string (like “blonde” or “any other string of characters”). They can also be fancy stuff like arrays, but we won’t be touching on that.

You can use variables to keep track of a lot of things! For instance...

How much money the player has

Whether a player has a key

What the player’s name is

I keep mentioning the value of a variable or “setting” it, but how do you do that? Well, one way is to add it to a link. If you want a link to set hair colour to blonde, for instance, you could write [[Blonde|Next passage][$hairColour to “blonde”]]. Clicking on that link would forward the player to “Next passage” and set the value of $hairColour to “blonde.”

There is a better way of doing it, however, but we’ll need to talk about...

Macros!

A macro is a snippet of code that runs when you put a special code word inside these <<spiky boys>>. You can write your own macros with JavaScript if you’re smart, find them on the internet if you’re even more smart, or just use the ones that come built in with Sugarcube.

The ones we’ll be talking about, and the ones that are the most important for most Twine games, are <<set>>, <<if>>, and <<link>>.

<<set>>

The <<set>> macro allows you to, you guessed it, assign a value to a variable. For instance, if you want to set $hairColour to blonde... well, that’s all you need to do! It’s just:

<<set $hairColour to “blonde”>>

It’s important to remember with the <<set>> macro that strings (collections of different characters) require quotation marks around them to show the code that it isn’t a number or a true/false value. If you put quotes around a number and try to do math with that variable, you’ll get a big ol’ error message.

If you’re using numbers, you can also use JavaScript operators in place of “to.” Each one will perform a calculation on the variable if that variable is a number, and then replace the variable with the result. If you want to add $5 to the player’s $money, you could use this:

<<set $money += 5>>

The “+=“ will add the number on the right to the variable on the left. “-=“ will do the same for subtraction, “*=“ for multiplication, and “/=“ for division. Easy enough, just don’t forget the = sign after the usual symbol!

By default, the <<set>> macro will be executed as soon as the page it’s on loads. Sometimes that’s useful, but sometimes you would rather the player click a link that sets a variable- like if they choose a hair colour. You might also want the same link to set multiple variables, like subtracting money and giving them an item when they use a shop. How do we do that?

<<link>>

The <<link>> macro is also pretty simple. All it does is create a link, and when that link it pressed it executes whatever is inside of it. Here we’ll be using it with <<set>>, but you can use it with all kinds of different macros and even nest some of them to do really complicated stuff!

As an example, we want the player to click “buy key,” give the player the key, and subtract $5 from their money. Here’s how we do it:

<<link “Buy key”>>

<<set $key to true>>

<<set $money -= 5>>

<</link>>

The text the player will click is in quotation marks, and after all of the macros we need to execute we have to close off the code by adding <</link>>. Easy, right?

But other than printing them on the screen, what can you actually use those variables for? Well, for that we’ll be using...

<<if>>

The <<if>> macro is my favourite, hands down, because it’s an easy way of accomplishing hard stuff. Simply put, <<if>> will check if the thing you asked about is true, and if it is, it will do whatever you put inside of it.

Here’s a simple example:

<<if $key is true>>

[[Use the key|Progress]]

<</if>>

Whatever is inside the <<if>> macro will be executed if the “if” statement is true. In this case, the link “Use the key” will be printed on the screen only if the player has the key. This also applies to code- if you put a <<set>> macro inside, that macro would only set a variable if the player has the key.

Now here’s a more complicated example, to show everything the <<if>> macro is capable of. Here we also want to check if they’ve already opened the door, and display alternate text if they have no key and the door is locked.

<<if $key is true>>

[[Use the key|Progress]]

<<elseif $doorOpen is true>>

[[Walk through|Progress]]

<<else>>

You need to find a key.

<</if>>

I’ll break it down line by line to tell you what each thing does.

<<if $key is true>>

This line is the only necessary one- it checks whether $key has been set to true. You can check for any value that a variable can be, like a number, true/false, or a string. You can also check for other things with this macro- for instance, “isnot” will check that the variable isn’t equal to the value on the right. “gt” or “lt” will check if the variable is greater/lesser than the value on the right, and “gte” or “lte” will check if it is greater than or equal to the value.

<<elseif $doorOpen is true>>

This line allows us to check for something else within the same <<if>> macro. Once the game has checked the original <<if>> and found that it is false, it will move on to checking each <<elseif>> until it finds one that is true. You can have as many <<elseif>>s as you need, and they can check the same variable or different variables, but only the first true one will be executed! And, of course, you can’t use <<elseif>> on its own- it’s stuck to the <<if>> macro!

<<else>>

This line is the last resort- if the original <<if>> and any <<elseif>>s have all been false, the game will execute whatever is after <<else>>. Because of this, there can only be one <<else>> line within any <<if>> macro! If you don’t have an <<else>>, nothing at all will be executed, so whether you include one depends on the situation.

<</if>>

This closes off the <<if>> macro. Nothing special, but very important! Put it after the last piece of code or bit of text you want the macro to control.

Phew. That’s it! That’s all I wanted to show you!

Now, HOMEWORK!

Okay, not homework, just practice. Here are some things you can try building to practice all these tools and get comfortable with how they work!

A store system with different items for different amounts of money

A character creation screen, followed by a description of your character (with variables!)

A puzzle that requires you to choose the right answer to proceed

If you have any trouble, need to ask any questions, or if something in this tutorial wasn’t clear to you, please let me know- you can DM me or send me an ask anytime and I’m happy to answer any Twine questions you have. I hope this was of use to you, and have fun making games <3

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 17 | April 18th – April 24th

Welcome to week 17 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

«Last Week

Week 18»

My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week

Forever & Always: Stage 1 - Denial | Pt.1 » Bucky Barnes x Witch!Reader & Platonic Avengers x Reader — Y/N “Birdy” (nicknamed by her family), comes from a long line of witches and warlocks, living her days at the New Avengers Compound, alongside her friends. The Avengers are part of her family and her family is always welcome to the compound. Things for once seemed to be going well now that all was right from the attack on Thanos, everyone was alive, all was forgiven, friendships were thriving, that all ended when Birdy’s brother came calling with sad news, their mother had suddenly passed. These are the stages of grief Birdy faces, through the loss of her best friend, her protector, her mother.

His Favorite Day » Chris Evans x Reader — Chris’s favorite day of the year is your birthday.

Bucky Barnes

One-Shots:

*No Hidden Messages by @jobean12-blog » TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Sam sends you a picture of Bucky and the endgame is priceless. | Honestly I love me some dominant Bucky, and if Sam had sent me that picture I would have dropped my phone and been like yep that my babe. I was thinking something more dirty but I’ll keep that thought to myself. 😉

Sucker Punch by @buckyblues » Boxer!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader — Bucky thought he knew what was his, until he accidentally let it roam free. | Someone come dump a cold bucket of water on me please?

Someone Like You by @startrekkingaroundasgard » Bucky Barnes x Hydra Agent!Reader — Taken from their SHIELD prison cell, the reader finds themself alone with The Winter Soldier negotiating for their life. | I really enjoyed reading this, the sass of the reader and how Bucky handles them. It’s just so perfect. Nicola says there is more to come for this pair and I’m so very much looking forward to it.

(Mini) Series:

Happy & So Happy by @mrwinterr » Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader — You meet your favorite artist and get more than what you bargained for. | The smut in this is hot and by the end you are hoping the reader gets a happy ending not a tragic one.

*A Tender Heart 💜 Pt. 3 by @river-soul » Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader — You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpected fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit. [A/B/O dynamics and explicit sexual content, 18+] | I feel the love that is radiating from this story and I really love it and the little bit of smut we get in chapter 3 is perfect!

the (after) party by @buckycuddlebuddy sequel loft music » fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader — “why don’t we have this thing they call goodbye sex? one last time.” he leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear. “i’ll make it good for you.” | In some strange way it was therapeutic to read this but at the same time I felt bad for the reader in the first part. Second part you are rooting for her but still feeling bad. I will say the smut in this is perfect.

Just Like Dad Pt. 3 🦾 Pt. 1 🦾 Pt. 2 by @ladyfallonavenger » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky finally confronts Steve and moves forward with his life. | Very sweet ending and I loved it.

Sweet Dreams 🥞 Pt. 4 🥞 Pt. 5 🥞 Pt. 6 🥞 Pt. 7 by @jedimastermelkor » Bucky Barnes x Reader & ? x Avenger — Your daily routine involves waking up in the morning, going to work and sulking at night. But then you meet the man you’ve fantasized about for your entire life, Bucky Barnes. At the same time, you’ve caught someone else’s eye and his first step in winning you over is to cook you breakfast. But will you be welcoming of that person’s affections? | I like how she named the puppy Pancake and the first thing the mysterious avenger gave her was pancakes. I don’t want to give too much away but things are getting really good and you find out who the mysterious avenger is in chapter 6!

Steve Rogers

One-Shots:

*Caught by @giorno-plays-piano » Bluebeard!Steve Rogers x Reader — If he kept you warm, saying words of love to you every day while he looked you in the face, you’d marry him even if in a year he hanged you just like all his wives in the dungeon of his castle. | It’s dark but in a soft way and it’s so good. I highly recommend you go and read it.

Drabble Request by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader — We find out how Steve and Reader met before they ever got in a relationship. Takes place before Tell Me What You Want. | I loved this so much, I was laughing and pictured this whole piece so vividly in my brain. Also I just want a part where Bucky teases Steve about that night in front of reader making her giggle, maybe at the wedding?

(Mini) Series:

*Yuánfèn 📖 Pt. 4 by @writerwrites » Steve Rogers x Reader — When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart? | I always look forward to the updates on this story. It brings me so much comfort and the relationship that is blossoming between the reader and Steve is beautiful and organic. I highly recommend this.

Misc.

Headcanons:

*Just Like Her Old Man by @rebelwrites » Chibs Telford x Reader — I asked for: Parents get called into school for a meeting due to their daughter fighting, and trying not to be proud. Taking them out for a treat after the meeting. | It turned out so great. If you knew me at my Sons Anarchy Days, you know I loved Chibs the most. This feed my love for him even more. Thank you Heather!!

One-Shot:

*A Simple Solution by @sweetlyscared » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader, Andy Barber x Fem!Reader x Ari Levinson — You and Andy had a purely sexual relationship for several months, and you’d started to grow attached to him. Unfortunately, life has a way of complicating things, and a chance encounter at a bookstore had you stuck between a rock and a hard place. | We all owe a huge thank you to Sweet Lee, for writing and posting this. She wrote our dreams out so perfectly, and if you haven’t thought of this now you can. It’s just so hot and good, I for one am very thankful.

(Mini) Series:

*Give In 🐈‍⬛ Pt. 23 🐈‍⬛ Pt. 24 🐈‍⬛ Pt. 25 by @overr-written » soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | I love this series so much and the lengths that the chapters are. I really am going to be sad when this is over. I don’t ever want it to end. 😭

Seal Team

One-Shots:

Imma Take Care Of Your Body by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — Reader is the only female member on Bravo who also has a no strings attached relationship with Rebel. | Let me just say this is hot, like really hot. Give me a glass of water and let me cool down. Thank you Heather for blessing us with this.

Tier One Babysitters by @bravo-four-seal-team » Seal Team; Ray Perry x Naima Perry — Ray and Naima ask the team to watch 6 month old Jameelah. | I promise you will be laughing.

You Are Perfect by @rebelwrites » Clay Spenser x Reader — Clay tells you everything he loves about you. | As a big boned girl this meant a lot and has me wishing for a Clay Spenser to call my own.

[ptersparkers]

the art of eating pussy (5)

summary: upon realizing you lack skills in the bedroom when a touron asks you out on a date, you turn to jj, a self-proclaimed sexual deviant, for help.

warnings: smut, y’all. 

notes: i haven’t been in the right headspace to right recently and wanted to give my reads something of quality and substance, not something to rush just for satisfaction. behold, chapter five.

co-authored and co-written with @storiesbymads​. SHOW MY WIFE SOME LOVE.

add yourself to my taglist + series masterlist 

JJ’s hung up. 

You’d been spending less time at the Chateau in favor of spending time with Trent since it was the last week that he’d be on the island. His mind was racing, conflicted with the thoughts of your mouth on Trent and his lips on your neck. The night of the party had been the worst moment of the week and his jaw hurt from clenching by the time he ended up crashing out on John B’s couch. JJ always drank to forget and that night wasn’t an exception. 

He knew it wasn’t just about sex with you anymore. It wasn’t about the opportunity for him to get off by the hand of someone else. It wasn’t about him taking advantage of you. There was nothing complicated about the two of you in the bedroom. 

But outside of the bedroom, JJ’s head was spinning every time you said goodbye or forced him out the door because your parents were home. He didn’t have to think when he was with you; JJ knew what you wanted and knew what to expect. He knew that his time alone with you was the product of these lessons but that didn’t mean he had to think of this time as anything but passionate. When his tongue wasn’t down your throat, he was thinking about the tight feeling in his chest that left him wondering what was going to happen once you told him it was over because he didn’t want this to end.

JJ hadn’t thought about the lessons ending until he saw you tucked underneath Trent’s arm at the party. This whole situation wasn’t friends with benefits and he knew it, which is why it messed with his head so much. Yes, there was the whole “no strings attached” ordeal, but this wasn’t just one of you calling the other for sex. This was much more complicated. You were one of JJ’s best friends but the only difference is you’d seen him naked, intentionally. 

His thoughts are preoccupied with the idea that once the lessons end, you might still be with Trent despite him no longer being on the island. JJ would have to go back to being just friends and he’d have to pretend that he never saw you naked. He’d have to pretend he didn’t revel in the thought of you trembling beneath him. The other Pogues, to his knowledge, had no idea that the both of you were fooling around and he didn’t know if it was something he wanted to disclose. On one hand, he wanted a second opinion on whether or not this was something healthy. On the other hand, he knew what they would say; that JJ didn’t care about catching feelings and it was unlikely that he would consider succumbing to being a boyfriend. He knew he’d expressed his disdain for relationships in the past, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

You ended up skipping out on the last two beach sessions in favor of Trent. Pope had decided to stay behind on the sand with JJ while Sarah, Kiara, and John B. enjoyed themselves under the warmth of the sun and the contrasting coolness of the ocean waves. Pope could sense something was amiss when JJ was the first to propose having a relaxing afternoon and hadn’t shown up with his surfboard tucked underneath his arm. 

“Something’s up,” Pope stated. “Something’s been up for a while and I didn’t want to say anything about it until I knew for sure, but something’s definitely up.” JJ shook his head. 

“It’s nothing.” Pope nudged JJ with his shoulder. 

“C’mon, man. You don’t want to surf, your mind is a million miles from where you are, and not to mention, this entire week you’ve been moody.”

“I’m not moody,” JJ muttered with a scowl, flicking at a clump of sand near his foot. Pope’s mouth formed a knowing smile. JJ sighed. “Okay, I’ve been moody.” 

“What’s up? Is it your dad again?” 

“No,” JJ replied softly. “I just think life is bullshit.”

“We all think life is bullshit.” 

“Feelings are bullshit.” Pope’s ears perked with interest. 

“Feelings?” JJ looked at Pope before looking back at the view in front of him, watching as Kiara had playfully splashed Sarah with ocean water. He wished he could feel that carefree. 

“They suck,” he began. “I think it’s stupid that people are allowed to feel something for people and not know if they feel the same.” 

“Are you talking about someone?” JJ paused. 

“No,” he replied. 

“Okay...” Pope trailed off. JJ sighed once more.

“What I’m trying to say, is, I wish we weren’t cursed with not knowing where the lines are blurred and I wish we could all say how we feel without consequence.” 

Pope sensed that JJ was trying to speak metaphorically and project his emotions on a secondary situation. He nodded, trying to follow the blond’s train of thought. He pursed his lips as JJ spoke and wanted to understand what he was saying to the fullest extent, but the boy decided to let JJ talk. 

“Have you ever thought about getting off this island?” JJ asked after a few moments of silence. 

“What kind of question is that?” Pope asked, laughing. “Of course I do.”

“But really,” said JJ. “Not just getting off and seeing what it’s like. I mean, like, what you’re gonna be doing in twenty years and the people who are going to be in your life.”

“Sometimes,” Pope replied with a casual shrug. “I try to take things one day at a time. I never want to overwhelm myself.”

“Lucky you,” JJ muttered. “I see myself off of this stupid fucking island by the time I’m thirty. I don’t want to live in a place where I feel trapped and can’t say what I want to fucking say.”

“I want to be able to forget about the Kooks,” Pope chimed in. JJ nodded. “I kinda want to live in San Francisco.”

“I’d probably live in Europe or something,” JJ said. “Don’t know where but I’d want to experience life as far away from North Carolina as possible.”  

“You sure you’re okay?” Pope asked. He knew he wasn’t. 

“Yeah, man,” JJ replied. “Just got a lot of things on my mind.”

The idea of fooling around with anyone that wasn’t you hadn’t crossed JJ’s mind. He’d been to Boneyard keggers since the lessons began but the notion of flirting and bringing a girl back to the Chateau was way off his radar. The Pogues didn’t take much notice but JJ wondered if they knew something was amiss or if they’d say something about it if they did. If he was able to realize he hadn’t slept with anyone since he began “teaching” you, then they might have. JJ knew their worlds didn’t revolve around him, and the boy was still as goofy and troublesome as ever, but there was a seeded doubt that made him awkward whenever he was around his friends if you happened to be there. 

It wasn’t that his stomach felt queasy or that his heart was racing. He’d be lying to himself if he admitted that. His head was clear when it came to how he felt about you and he wouldn’t hesitate rushing to your house if you called him for another lesson or if you just wanted to kick back with him in your room and jam out to vinyls you pulled out whenever you felt nostalgic. Before, he would never have considered approaching your side of the island but now he didn’t feel as small as he did when he didn’t have a reason to be there. Your parents were familiar with your friends and didn’t mind JJ stopping by, which gave him more of an incentive to visit you when he had had enough of the Chateau and his friends’ loud personalities. 

JJ knew his head was clear when it came to how he was feeling. The only part that clouded his judgement was Trent and dealing with the different friendship he’d have with you. He was sure that if the Touron wasn’t in the picture, things would be much easier for him. Trent’s dark and slick hair reminded him of greed and filth. His boisterous personality reminded JJ of everything he never wanted to be and he couldn’t understand why you’d pay attention to him for longer than a quick glance. The Touron was casually cool, the type of person who wanted to say they were able to rub elbows with the socialites of New York City by posting it on his social media accounts. You, on the other hand, were down to earth and courageous about your future potential. He couldn’t fathom why you were so attracted to someone who was your opposite. 

Your head had been spinning too. Trent was the perfect gentleman and he hadn’t given you a reason to not trust him. And yet, every moment you spent with him reminded you that you weren’t spending it with JJ. You couldn’t understand why you’d been thinking about his shaggy hair when he wakes up or the way his eyes squint when he laughs a little too hard. Trent was giving you his full and undivided attention, and you always felt guilty when you needed to force yourself back into reality because you had been zoning out, daydreaming of being anywhere else. 

But JJ never seemed to be anything other than friendly with you. You opted to disregard how he acted during the lessons, summing that up to pent up sexual frustration and a genuine interest to help you out after years of teasing you. You weren’t completely naive; you knew this was a way for JJ to get himself off, much like it was for you. The only difference between JJ taking advantage of you versus not was the fact that you wanted him to teach you how to make others feel good and how to make yourself feel like a goddess in the bedroom. You weren’t exactly sure why there had been a lack of awkwardness between the both of you despite him being your best friend since birth. There was never a question of doubt from JJ when you asked him to help you learn. There was no laughing when you admitted your lack of knowledge. Perhaps that’s why your initial doubt disappeared the first time he asked you to kiss him.

Trent had apologized for the beach date when he’d gotten startled by strangers parking next to him and promised you he’d make it up to you. He came through on his promise after you got worked up before your dinner date. You arrived at the hotel he was staying at while his father attended an event on the other side of Figure Eight and his hand glided up the side of your dress. Trent wasn’t rough nor was he gentle; he was giving you what you thought you wanted but it didn’t feel as skilled or as tender as when JJ’s fingers were inside of you. With JJ, your orgasm approached as if JJ already knew everything there was to know but Trent took his sweet time making you cum. 

You always cursed yourself for letting your mind wander innocuously to JJ when Trent’s lips were on your neck or when his fingers were toying with the hem of your clothing. There wasn’t much going on between you and Trent, sexually, despite him wanting to take it further. You were lucky enough that Trent verbally expressed his willingness to wait, but you wondered if that wait time had an expiration date. You wanted to make sure if it felt right before you were able to deliver on a promise. You knew that your lessons with the blond would come to an end the moment you two had gone all the way, or until you were ready to experience sex without JJ, and you always moved that thought to the back of your mind to avoid thinking about it. 

By now, you felt guilty for spending the majority of this week with Trent. Kiara had texted you a few times but understood wanting to spend time with him until he left. As far as you could tell, neither John B. nor Pope cared too much because they were happy their youngest friend was happy with someone. JJ, on the other hand, you couldn’t read. You didn’t understand why it was so difficult for you to reach out to him first or comprehend him, which you were usually good at. Suddenly, you were overthinking the way he talked to you and if he chose to sit next to you or someone else. You were overthinking his lingering gaze either on your thighs or some girl who walked past him with a weird knot in the pit of your stomach. 

You kept telling yourself none of that mattered because you had Trent and you were sure you knew how you felt. Trent treated you right, was willing to wait, and never made you feel second best for not being as sexually promiscuous as he was. Yet something was lacking and you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

You tried not to think about it on your way to the Chateau. The screen door slammed shut as you walked into the living room to try and save yourself from the downpour of rain. After Trent had dropped you off when his father had called him during the middle of a movie marathon, you opted to see the Pogues and spend some time with them once you realized how many times you had declined their offer to hang out. You saw JJ already sprawled out on the couch, seemingly all by himself. 

“John B’s out with Sarah,” he said casually, pushing himself up onto his elbows to give you some room to sit down. You nodded a thank you, crossing your arms over your wet torso in an attempt to warm your shivering body as you sat down. Glancing down at your chest, you silently swore as you noticed your red bra was, in fact, very visible under your white shirt. 

“Nice bra,” he chuckled, trying not to ogle too long. JJ hoped his comment didn’t make you feel awkward; he was having a hard time talking to you because he didn’t exactly know where he stood with you. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled but you couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks. 

“So…” JJ trailed off. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a few days.” 

“I’ve been good,” you nodded. 

“And Trent?” he asked, attempting, and majorly failing, to hide the venom that laced his tongue. You mistook this as annoyance.

“Good,” you said, not wanting to talk about him anymore. JJ cleared his throat, his teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw, as he shifted on the couch so that he was sitting upright and facing you. 

“You've been putting my lessons to good use?” he asked. He didn’t know why he’d asked. He had no desire to hear about you with another guy. 

“You could say that,” you said. Were you really putting them to good use if you weren’t enjoying yourself with Trent nearly as much as you had been with JJ? You couldn’t tell JJ that Trent’s hands on you just sent your mind spiraling back to him or when Trent’s lips were on yours, it reminded you of that first night you started the whole thing. 

“Oh? Does he make you feel good?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Because it’s not worth it if you’re not getting something out of it, too.”

“Uh, well-”

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he asked suddenly. He knew he was asking the question more for himself but he was desperate to have you again. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to show you how a real man treats his girl. 

“What?” you were taken aback by the forwardness of his question. You watched as his eyes dilated, flicking back and forth from your lips to your chest. 

“You know what I mean,” he said. “You need to be shown what it’s like to be taken care of.”

“But you already-”

“Just let me do this for you,” he snapped. “Please.”

“Okay,” you said before turning your body on the couch to face him. You hadn’t stopped shivering since entering the Chateau not too long ago and your goosebumps increased as you watched JJ move closer to you. He used his right hand to pry your knees apart, positioning himself between them. Your heart rate picked up as he leaned forward to press his lips against yours, the cold air hitting your wet skin when JJ pushed the soaked fabric of your t-shirt up so that it rested just under the hemline of your bra. 

“Up,” he mumbled against your lips, the vibrations forcing a soft moan out of you as you broke the kiss to lift your arms above your head. You let out a small laugh when your shirt made a sloshing sound against the ground. It stopped as soon as it started, however, because you felt JJ start applying open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones. 

Feeling his body pressed up against yours stirred up all the daydreams you’d had every time you’d gotten intimate with Trent. You’d been in this position before with him, but somehow it felt better without the pretense of a lesson. You were under the guise that this wasn’t just about teaching you what you liked and what you didn’t. Part of you wanted to believe that this was more than a lesson you’d acquire from JJ’s depth of knowledge. JJ’s kisses trailed lower and lower until his teeth started toying with the waistband of your shorts. The throbbing between your legs was growing steadily and you let out a sigh of relief when he finally dipped his fingers into the waistband and tugged the wet shorts down your legs with effort because of the rain, dropping them on the floor with your shirt. 

“JJ,” you whimpered as he took his time moving down your body. He slipped his hands under your knees so that he could place them on his shoulders delicately before he laid out on the couch with his face centimeters away from your nearly bare pussy. 

He let out a soft laugh in disbelief at how incredibly soaked you already were. It was practically coating your thighs at this point and your cunt was aching in anticipation for his touch. All JJ could think about is how you let another man see you from this point of view, which was enough to give rise to JJ’s ego. His mission was to make you feel so good that you’d think of him the next time Trent put his hands down your pants; he wanted you to remember this moment and know what it was like to be eaten out by someone who was determined to make you orgasm like a holy grail. 

JJ’s jealousy didn’t cause him to act rashly and dominate the situation. He started by pressing fluttering kisses to the side of your knee, his eyes flickering up to see you watching him intently. JJ began by tenderly kissing the inside of your thighs, making comments about how soft you are and how you smelled so sweet. He does all he can to make you squirm underneath his touch, loving that your gaze didn’t leave him even if you tried. JJ pressed a kiss to the waistband of your underwear and you whimpered at the thought of him being so close to you in a way that was more intimate than before. 

He chuckled when he heard you whimper again and moved his mouth to kiss along your clothed entrance. You knew JJ’s game all too well and you knew he’d take his time teasing you until you were begging for it. It took a while to come to this conclusion, but you figured out that you enjoyed the slow pace before the big finish. JJ had taught you that when you reached an orgasm, it was less about the other party getting off by getting you off. The point of your orgasm was to make you feel like a queen in the bedroom, not like a used toy to get someone else off. 

So when JJ used the pad of his index finger to move your underwear aside and toy with your cunt, you didn’t bother begging for his mouth. Instead, you closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his warm hands on you. JJ looked pleased at your reaction and wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could. His finger moved in slow circles before hitting a sensitive nerve that caused your hips to rise, to which JJ laughed and pinned you down in the cushions. 

JJ pressed two delicate kisses on your entrance. His mouth was being coated in your slick and he licked his lips, closing his eyes to savor the way you tasted. His body inched forward in an attempt to be as close to you as possible before licking a stripe with his tongue pressed flat against you, causing you to let out a deep moan in satisfaction. 

JJ’s tongue worked like magic, as if he already knew all of your weak spots and was discovering the different sounds you could make by his tongue. His hands were gripping your thighs and his eyes would look at his meal before back up at you, and you had taken the liberty to use your hands to tug on his hair when he had hit a pleasure point. 

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered against you to himself, proud of how loud and unapologetic you were being. He swore that if the Pogues had walked in the door, he’d stop eating your pussy and show them how pretty you looked underneath him. But he knew they would all be at Kiara’s until the storm passed. 

His motions were delicate until he recalled the thought of you and Trent together in bed. His tongue began to dart in and out of you at a faster speed with every increasing thought. Giving Trent a handjob. Trent stripping you out of your bra and underwear. His fingers inside of you. His tongue down your throat. His cock in your mouth. His cock in your - JJ’s - pussy. He knew he was irrational and wrong to think that last thought, but in this moment, your pussy was his for the taking and he was going to make your orgasm like your life depended on it. 

JJ’s grip on your thighs became tighter and you felt locked underneath him. Your toes curled and your hips bucked at the pressure and pace at which JJ was eating you out. His head was moving like he was catching every last drop of your wetness before going back for some more. JJ had taken the liberty to lift his head and spit on your entrance before diving back in, his tongue so deep inside of you that you almost considered asking him to use his cock instead. 

“JJ,” you muttered, tugging on his hair. 

“Just cum, baby,” he urged. “I’m ready for you.” 

You obliged and it didn’t take you that long to release. JJ lapped the white pearls that were spilling out of you and his eyes were rolling to the back of his head as he realized this was the first time he was seeing you, and tasting you, from this angle. JJ’s jaw was becoming sore but he paid no attention as your legs spread wider against the couch and your body moved to the rhythm of his tongue. 

When you were coming down from your high, JJ couldn’t have imagined anything hotter than the sight and sound before him, but your fingers reached down to your aching core in oblivion and began toying with your clit as your breathing steadied. JJ watched in awe as your fingers moved in slow, delicate and circular motions, your bottom lip in between your teeth and your eyes shut. His mouth hung open at how totally, completely, and utterly fucked you were in this orgasmic haze and was pulled out of this fantasy when you tugged your hand away and reached for a tissue to clean yourself up. 

JJ couldn't think of anything to say and neither could you. You settled on watching a movie in silence. 

***

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