#//Love the idea of her little wings at her waist fluttering whenever she kisses a much taller partner; like they’re thing to help her reach

[intcrastra]

Love the idea of the little wings at Robin’s waist and head fluttering whenever she’s flustered.

[sarcastich]

Crown Made Of Barbwire

Everyone got their wings, sooner or later.

Feathers of every color, size, variation.

They start as two little bumps on your back, itching like a growing tooth, around the same time you hit puberty. A bit earlier for girls, a bit later for boys. They grow over the course of your teenage years, and stop once all their feathers have reached their full size.

Some people could fly with their wings, some couldn’t. Most people’s wings were two meters on each side when they were outstretched.

Peter’s wings had only taken two years to grow fully, and were beautiful, pure-white angel wings.

He’d never seen anyone with wings like his. All the other white wings were more like snow owls, speckled with browns and grays, or had underlying colors that gave the top feathers a tint.

He couldn’t quite fly with them, but they were perfect for gliding. He’d scale the tallest buildings in his area, and get a running jump off of them, plummeting for a moment before he got pulled up and flew around the neighborhood until his wings got tired. Of course, you couldn’t just fly anywhere whenever you wanted to. You needed permits, licenses, there were laws to uphold. Most people preferred staying on the ground, anyway.

But not everyone got to keep their feathered wings.

Peter had always heard stories of the burnt ones.

His aunt used it as a reason for him to be good, or when his friends were yelling about seeing criminals they’d allegedly seen out ‘n about.

“-Eat your greens or your wings will burn right off, Pete”

“-I’m telling you, man! His wings were all black and torn up, I’m not kidding!”

They were the result of corruption, evil, immorality, and sin. Once soft feathers scorched, charred, and turned into soot. They blackened and burned away, turning into a shadow of their past wonder, skeletal and black.

Peter had never imagined that one day he’d be standing at the Four Seasons, shooting photos for The Bugle, trying to get a good shot of the Tony Stark.

Peter was among the crowd of journalists and other photographers, rapidly clicking away, aiming his camera lens at Stark. Reporters were yelling out questions, waving wired microphones and recorders over the barrier between them and the walkway Tony Stark was walking down.

There was something about his wings that set them apart from a normal burnt set. Most CEOs, businessmen or just rich, successful, famous people had burnt wings.

But Tony Stark’s weren’t just burnt.

They had horns cascading from the tips to the forearms. The burning away of the pure white feathers had revealed bat-like structures. Stark had no idea why, or how. That was just how they were. Or so he’d told the public.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat when Stark focused on him, looking into his camera and flashing a well-practiced smile. Peter fumbled for a moment before he looked through the viewfinder and took several photos.

And again, he’d never imagined that he’d get a personal request for a photoshoot, by the Tony Stark.

He packed his camera bag with shaky hands, taking extra drives and lenses.

His boss had pulled him aside earlier that morning, and told him that Stark had reached out and asked for Mr. Parker to be the one present and in charge of the interview’s photos. Peter, of course, had accepted in a second. He’d be an idiot to decline. Tony Stark’s picture on his portfolio? What kind of artist would he be if he said no?

Peter stepped out of the glass lobby of The Bugle offices half an hour later and looked up from his phone, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a deep red sweater over a white collared shirt, the front tucked into his soft beige dress pants. He hoped his outfit wasn’t too casual for the occasion, but he didn’t really have time to change anyway.

Just as he looked away from the screen, a sleek black car pulled up in front of him. The driver’s window rolled down.

“Peter Parker?” the driver, a roundish man, asked.

“Y-yeah- yes!”

The man jerked his head towards the back seat door.

“Get in, kid.”

Peter did as told, nervously sliding into the car, barely moving when he sat on the leather seat, hugging his bag.

“Wh- Where’re we going-?” His voice came out a lot squeakier than he’d meant for it to.

“Stark Industries Tower, where else?”

Almost an hour later, the car stopped in front of the blue, glass building. The driver got out and opened Peter’s door. He hadn’t moved since he’d gotten in.

Getting out of the car and almost forgetting his bag, he mumbled, most of his attention drawn by the tall tower.

“Thank you- uh, mister- um-”

“Hogan. Happy Hogan.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

With a nod, he closed the car door and got back in, driving off. Peter took a deep breath, held his bag properly again and started towards the building.

After a short chat with one of the three receptionists, he was led to an elevator a bit farther away from the general area of the entry. He and a shorter woman entered the lift. Judging from her formal attire, Peter guessed she was an assistant. Her wings were far smaller than his own, made up of light blue feathers with streaks of royal blue. He kept his own wings contracted to offer her enough room in the small space.

“Friday, take us to the penthouse, and please let Mr. Stark know that Mr. Parker will be arriving shortly.”

Peter looked at her, confused until a soft tone went off and the elevator started its ascent.

She smiled at him before he let out a soft “Oh-” and averted his gaze.

With another soft tone, the lift stopped and she gestured for him to step out.

“Thanks-”, he started to say, but the elevator door was already closing behind him.

The elevator had opened to something like a living room area. Two sleek, white sofas were facing the rounded glass walls, with an ornate sculpture between them that looked like five giant bowls stacked on top of each other. Everything Peter could see was modern and minimal, with a white-gray aesthetic throughout the penthouse.

He looked around nervously, holding on to his bag by the shorter strap.

“Mr. Parker, welcome.”

Peter gasped and turned around with a jump, startled.

“M-Mr. Stark! Y-yes, hi, I’m Peter Parker, I-I’m here for the Bugle interview shoot?” He inwardly cringed at how he sounded, stuttering, his voice a lot higher than it usually was, clutching his bag for dear life.

Stark smirked at him. “I know, kid, calm down.” He gestured towards the sofas. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Peter stuttered out a thank you, and sat down at the far end of one. He kept his wings close to his body, feeling like he was taking up too much space, still hugging his bag to his chest. He looked up shyly, taking Stark in properly. His wings were relaxed as he walked to the sofa facing Peter, sitting down comfortably.

“Are you afraid of me, Mr. Parker?”

“N-No sir. I mean, you’ve obviously done s-some- uh-.. Not so great things- but uhm- You’re an icon, people admire you-”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Stark cut him off, motioning to the minibar that had very literally risen from the ground.

Peter stuttered out, “Oh- N-No, thank you, I can’t drink on the job-”

Stark poured himself two fingers of whiskey in a lowball glass, without ice, and gently pushed down the top of the minibar, and it reclined back into the floor, looking like another dark grey ceramic tile.

He took a sip, eyes trained on Peter.

Peter cleared his throat, relaxing a bit. “So, where d’you think would be best for the uhm- the shots-?”

They talked about light placement, the conversation somehow dragging over to technology and science, Peter engaging a lot more, and forgetting his nervousness eventually.

After about an hour, they got up, Peter set up his camera, and took his photos.

A behind-shot of Tony Stark with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, wings stretched out behind him. A side profile, while buttoning his suit, and various other shots.

Peter was on his knees, getting a photo of one of Tony Stark’s iconic shades on a small table, the city line stretching out behind it.

Stark had excused himself to take a call, and told Peter to take photos of anything that he wanted. Peter didn’t hear him step back into the room, too focused on trying to set his camera’s shutter speed. Stark quietly took long strides to him, stepping in front of the table.

“Oh, Mr. Stark-! I just wanted to take a shot of the glasses, they’re-”

He stammered into silence as Mr. Stark softly ran the back of his finger along his cheek. He held it under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Peter was blushing furiously, but couldn't make himself look away.

“Let me see your wings, angel.”

Three months later, Peter’s life had changed drastically.

He was decked out in the latest designer clothes, a skinny white Etro strap top to match his wings, baby blue Dolce & Gabbana shaded glasses perched on this nose, sitting by a marbled kitchen counter, a Valentino white leather clutch bag resting on it, and inspecting his manicured nails.

A man in an obsidian black suit entered the room, buttoning his jacket and running a hand through his hair, smirking.

“Ready, angel?”

Peter looked up, a cheeky smile on his lips. Wings fluttering, he slid off his high stool and made his way to him. He straightened Tony’s tie and pecked his nose.

“Yes, daddy.”

He leaned away, but Tony let out a growl, grabbing Peter by his waist and pulling him flush against his body.

Peter gasped, “You’ll ruin my outfit!”

“Angel, I bought it.”

Peter pouted, “Well yeah, but you gave it to me”

“I’ll buy you a new one, you spoilt brat.”

Peter giggled and cupped Tony’s face, looking into his eyes and leaning into his touch. “Y’know I love you, Tones.”

They kissed softly, Tony not letting go of his vice grip on Peter’s waist.

“Tony, we’re gonna be late... I want you to check the set up one last time-”

“Angel, I had you set things up. I trust you.”

Earlier that day, Peter had gone to the hotel’s restaurant on the top floor, under a different name and reservation. He’d checked the entire place for wires, mics, or anything that could put them in any sort of bad situation. He checked exit points, weak spots, and all the cameras. He’d been thorough.

He had taped a Glock 9 mm handgun underneath their side of the table, checking repeatedly to make sure it was fully loaded and had its safety off.

Peter grumbled a bit, before letting go of Tony, dramatically sighing, rolling his eyes and picking up his handbag from the counter.

“Well, we should get going anyway.”

Tony shot him a wolfish grin before grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.

“You missed something, i mio angelo.”

He tilted his head to the counter, a navy blue felt box sitting on it now. Peter was surprised. He knew it was a jewelry box, but he hadn’t asked for anything, and even though Tony loved showering him with gifts, there was usually some silly occasion he used as an excuse for it.

He curiously looked at the box, wondering what it was. Something beautiful, no doubt.

“Go on then, Angel, it’s yours.”

Peter stepped back up to the counter and set down his bag on the nearest stool. He pulled the box closer to himself before glancing at Tony, who was smirking at him, arms crossed against his chest.

He slowly opened it, keeping his eyes on Tony until the lid was completely vertical.

His eyes flicked down to the box, and he took in a sharp gasp, hands flying to cover his mouth. “Tony, you didn’t!”

Tony’s smirk grew into a full grin again as Peter rushed around the counter to kiss him, cradling the box in his arms, even though he could easily just hold it in one hand.

“Of course I did, mia carissimo.”

Tony took the box from Peter’s hands, setting it down on the counter. He pulled out the choker he’d gotten for his princess, with Round Brilliant cut, D rate diamonds in the center of Cushion cut diamonds arranged like figure eights.

Peter lightly grazed his own neck with his fingertips, already feeling the weight on his neck, even though he hadn’t touched the jewels yet. Tony held up the necklace.

“May I have the honor?”

Peter silently turned his back to Tony, holding his head high. Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s bare neck and gently ran his hand through Peter’s feathers, making him shudder before placing the necklace on his neck and fastening the tiny clasp. It didn’t have a chain at the end, it had a specific size. Peter’s size.

Half an hour later, Tony held the passenger door of his Audi R8 Spyder open and led Peter out, Peter giving him his hand like a princess, to the entry of the hotel. There was no swarming press, just the coming and going of guests of the hotel.

Handing his keys over to a valet, Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s hand.

“Relax, angel.”

They walked into the lobby hand in hand, people stopping to stare at them every few feet. Even if they didn’t know who Tony Stark was, they’d stop to look at the man with the bat wings and the boy who looked like an angel.

They didn’t stop at the reception, they walked straight to the private elevator that led to the restaurant, Tony’s security detail already armed and ready at the top. Once they got there and had been patted down and checked for weapons by Osborn’s security, Tony walked them over to their table.

It overlooked the city skyline, winking lights dotting the land underneath them. He pulled out a chair for Peter, getting a soft smile in return. Sitting in the chair next to him, he held his hand again. Peter shot him a worried look.

Peter kept his voice low, “I thought you said he’d be here on time?”

“Princess, he’s only five minutes late. His detail’s here, he’ll be here, too.”

Peter toyed with the table’s centerpiece while they waited. After about ten minutes, Tony abruptly got up, rebuttoning his suit.

“C’mon bambino, we’re leaving.”

Before Peter could get up, there was a short yell and a loud muffled thump from the elevator.

The glass wall beside their table shattered, rapid shots taking out most of the security team. Tony yanked Peter down by his suit collar, looking out at the building in front to try and see the snipes. The elevator doors ominously opened, a man in black armour stepping out. His wings were plated with metal.

It all happened in the span of two seconds.

He shot the remaining guards before training his gun on Tony. Before he could get a word out, Peter pulled the gun he’d hidden earlier. In an instant, he cocked it and aimed for the man’s head.

The assassin had been a split second too late in aiming at Peter.

Peter fired.

The shooter fell to the floor, dead.

Peter dropped the gun, falling to his knees, a sudden hiss sounding behind him.

His wings had burst into flames.

He yelled out, pain blooming in his wings and along his back. Tears sprung from his eyes and ran down his face, ash falling around him, smoke rising behind him as Tony rushed to his knees beside him, holding him as he cried into Tony’s shoulder, his agonized screams muffled.

In the matter of minutes, his angelic wings were gone.

[lady-o-ren]

The Dig 

Part Two (Because I was bullied into this . . .)

//Which can be read (HERE) for easier reading// And Part One (HERE)

In a little rented room above auld Geordie’s pub, Claire Beauchamp stood in nothing but her silk undergarments as she flipped open her weathered suitcase (once belonging to her dear uncle Lamb) she had heaved atop her bed. She rummaged through the contents, blowing at her curls clouding around her face, before pulling out a single dress of pale blue.

It wasn't something she usually packed whenever she went off on a dig but the dress had caught her eye in a department store window in London just before coming to Suffolk. She reasoned one never knew when the occasion might call for her to dress in something other than dirt stained trousers.

And never had she been more relieved by an impulse buy.

Or thankful for a rainy day that halted her excavation.

It was a chance to be with the Scot who thought her more precious than the iron rivets they discovered a few days ago, proof that the burial site they were knee deep in was a ship to honor a fallen king. She would've kissed him on the spot if it weren't for Foster and Pound.

The kiss however did come later.

After her and the lads celebrated with too many pints, she and Fraser went back to Sutton Hoo, slightly swaying with every step beneath the twilight, until their arms found their way around one another. Soon they were laying side by side in the grass and dirt, the air cool on their whiskey flushed cheeks, and she wrapped in his coat. Big and warm and enveloping like himself.

"We may very well be unearthing a legend here ," said Beauchamp, leaning back on her elbows, eyes closed facing the moon.

Fraser grinned.

" Beowulf ?"

She laughed and turned her gaze to him. "Arthur, King of the Britons !"

He laughed along with her, a deep and hearty sound, then joking all aside said  -

"Anglo Saxon, ye think?"

She nodded and rolled to her side, nearly pressing herself against Fraser's chest, heaving from a sharp intake of breath.

"I told you before that something grand and marvelous was buried here . . ."

"Ye did."

Then shyly Fraser said -

"Bha mi a ’bruadar mun bhròn mhòr. . . Remember that bit from my notebook?"

Her eyes softened and her features took on a pretty shade of pink remembering a great deal more of what that book contained.

How each page held a piece of his heart.

And laid a hand over his chest, against that fervent beat.

"Of course I do," she answered back, but frowned a little when Fraser bashfully kept his gaze to the small gap between them where a dandelion bloomed.

"Weel, I wrote it that night after we first met, from a dream I had. Sounds a great deal better in the gaelic though. . ."

Beauchamp raised her hand to cup his cheek, thumbing the fine cut bones beneath his skin, before pressing her soft warm mouth against his lips.

"Tell me," she insisted, when they managed to part and nudged her nose against his.

And so he did, voice low and more than a little breathless.

I dreamt about the mourning.

The deaths of great men. Terrible men. Old and young. Of Kings lost in battle buried beneath us.

They cried out to me and the Earth came to life and twisted her roots around me, dragging me inside her womb. Dark and cold, breathless like a cave.

But I wasn't frightened. I saw lights rushing around me, bright as the twilight sky. The souls that lie ahead. Surrounding us.

They brought me to you.

He shrugged sheepishly then.

Just before she kissed him again. Knowing she'd never want anyone more than she did right then and there amongst the swaying trees and spirits of auld.

This man whose soul spoke to her own.

Too bad a crack of lightning had to ruin the night.

But at least the rain blessed them with a day to themselves in apology.

Taking one last glance in the vanity mirror (that was about as big as her compact) and another quick check that her nails were clean of dirt, Beauchamp left her room and walked down the hallway to Fraser's, knocking softly against his door. When no one answered she pressed her ear curiously to the door hearing voices and knocked again, just a bit more louder, tapping the toe of her slingback  heels against the beaten wooden floor. With still no response (and patience never being a virtue she ever possessed) she flat out turned the knob finding it unlocked.

She poked her head in and found a room even smaller than her own and the source of the voices coming from a small red radio playing an adaption of a film from the windowsill.

- I might have known you were here. I had a feeling just as I hit the floor.

- That was your hat.

- Oh, Susan! Just look at it! Look!

Fraser himself was fast asleep and spread out atop the bed sheets dressed for a date to the cinema with his long arms crossed above his head and his big feet dangling off the edge of his too small bed.

Beauchamp stood watching him for a moment, filled with a sudden tenderness at his sleeping innocence . . . and a bone deep wickedness that gave her an idea. She closed the door quietly behind herself and flipped the lock, grinning as she did so. She then slipped out of her slingback heels and crossed the room in two short strides (the floorboards creaking with the pitch of a mouse beneath her), to carefully lay down beside him.

Fraser turned to her in sleep, a throaty murmur on his lips, and laid a heavy arm around her slim waist, gathering her heart to heart. She sighed happily and reached to caress a curl hanging low at his brow, admiring the color that reminded her of the scorching sunsets in Giza she basked in with her uncle so many years ago. Her fingers then threaded through his thick mane down to where they began to curl at his neck and was rewarded with an unexpected smile. Pure and sweet.

"You're too perfect for words, lad," she whispered against his wide mouth, but before she could seal their lips together his long blonde lashes fluttered open.

Fraser gazed at her sleepily, his smile only growing wider as the word Sorcha was adoringly breathed against her cheeks.

She wanted to ask him what that one meant. It might be her favorite bit of gaelic so far.

But then . . .

"Claire!" Fraser exclaimed, and nearly toppled them both out of the bed if not for Beauchamp clinging to his shoulders, steadying him above her.

"How di' ye - Why are ye -"

Beauchamp giggled loudly at his befuddled face and at his hair sticking up in all directions like a sunflower crown. She coasted her hands up the wide breadth of his shoulders to cup both his scarlet cheeks.

"You're door was unlocked, and you know how cold I easily get . . ." she playfully pouted, and tugged his face closer, enjoying how his skin felt like a glowing hot coal between her hands.

But Fraser pulled away.

"Claire. . ."

She sighed yet kept her amused grin.

"You're not a lad of sixteen, you know. You can have a girl in your room."

"I ken that," he answered back, with a defensive spike in his voice.

Beauchamp ignored his tone letting her hands wander to his chest, the muscles taut beneath his crisp white shirt straining to contain his racing heartbeat.

"We even spent a night under the stars together."

"That was altogether different."

Her eyes flashed with mischief as she toyed with the buttons of his shirt. "How so?"

"For one," Fraser breathed hoarsely, placing a hand over hers lest she get too carried away. "It wasn't all night, the thunder made sure of that, and we mostly were talking anyway."

"Mostly?"

"And two," he said firmly, ears pink. "There wasn't a bed either of us could fall out of."

"No, there wasn't," she agreed, deciding he'd had enough of her teasing (and only because she had never taken anyone seriously enough to go slow). "But you can still keep me warm, Fraser. Virtue intact. I promise."

He arched a ruddy brow, doubtful of the lass with cheeky hands and a red cheshire grin that could lure a man to break every sin. Yet he eased himself beside her anyway and in the only way that worked.

With their legs twined together, nearly flushed against one another.

And his big hand braced along her back, the fabric soft against his callused palm as he smoothed it up and down, feeling the gentle rise of her ribs as she breathed in absolute contentment.

“Better than sitting in the cinema don't you think?” said Beauchamp, as she nuzzled her face to the crook of his neck, warmed by his skin that smelled freshly clean. Yet she found herself missing the scent of a hard day's labor on him.

“Aye, much - wait!” Fraser shifted to his elbow. “We missed the film didn't we?"

Beauchamp, a little annoyed at being jostled, shook her head and tugged at his collar to settle her lad back down.

"No, there's still some time left. Cary Grant just lost his intercostal clavicle bone to a dog named George. . . Or was it a leopard named Baby?"

Fraser stared at her like she'd gone completely daft until he noticed the radio playing in the background and heard the inimitable voices of Grant alongside Katherine Hepburn.

- Now it isn't that I don't like you, Susan, because, after all, in moments of quiet, I'm strangely drawn toward you, but - well, there haven't been any quiet moments.

"Oh,” he chuckled lightly, dropping his head to the side. “I must've fallen asleep listening to Lux Theatre . What I meant was the actual cinema though.”

“I think Judy Garland is merrily singing down that yellow brick road as we speak. But don't be sorry," she said, with a kiss to the hard line of his jaw, before the words could fall from his mouth. "It would've been far too crowded anyway."

“But you got yourself all dressed up," he protested, as his eyes traveled down to where her dress had been rucked up tight over her breasts and waist (and where his hand involuntarily flexed over the winged flare of her hip) before hastily clearing his throat.

"Ye look lovely by the way, mo chridhe. More than lovely actually. . ."

That shy and tender smile of his was her undoing and made her feel light-headed and reckless.

"Either that clever mouth of yours keeps on with the compliments, Fraser, or . . ."

Her voice carried off as her knee glided up between his thighs and her arms clasped around his shoulders so that any thoughts Fraser had of being a gentleman were forgotten in a wanton blaze of heat.

Some time later, with Fraser's cheek pillowed against her breasts, breath hot and seeping through the thin blue fabric thoroughly wrinkled now, he groaned.

"I wish we weren't in a room above a pub that reeks of cigarettes and wee."

She hummed softly, her fingertips stroking the back of his head, twirling around his curls. Admiring their beauty.

"Where should we be then?"

Fraser lifted his gaze to hers, blue eyes glimmering with that undeniable emotion that should've scared her yet it only made her want to claim him forever.

"A woman like you. . ." He smiled. " In a tent somewhere outside the ruins of a temple or in a cave in the Himalayas."

Her chest bounced with sparkling laughter.

"How about when this is all over and our names are the talk of the town, you take me anywhere you please. Preferably with a bed we can both fit in."

It was a tantalizing thought yet Fraser couldn't help but think of Scotland. Of his home Lallybroch. With her hand in his passing through the centuries old stone archway as his lady of Broch Turach.

Someday, maybe. God willing.

"I can think of a place," he murmured, and tightened his hold around her lush frame and pressed a daring kiss of hope above her heart. Felt her shiver beneath his mouth.

- I've just discovered that was the best day I've ever had in my whole life!

- But I was there!

- That's what made it so good!

And together they drifted off listening to the rain and the silly, sappy music.

I can't give you anything but love, baby.

That's the only thing I've plenty of, baby.

Dream awhile, scheme awhile

We're sure to find happiness . . .

//

A/N: There’s a lot of notes so I’ll keep them to ao3. And there’s probably mistakes galore but I needed to post this before cringe settled in and I deleted it, Thank you for reading!

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•The Grey Area•

Part One: •Fallen Angel•

Summary: You're Enji Todoroki's prized possession, his Angel. Given this name because of your pure, white wings. Your quirk is truly unique, until you come face to face with Enji's new friend and hit man, Hawks. His presence shakes you, his abilities intimidate you. The roll he plays in your life? That's up in the air.

Pairing: Keigo Takami x FemReader, Endeavor x FemReader

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, descriptions of death, sexual themes and implications, mentions of harassment, (Eventual smut, as well as other warnings- they will be at the beginning of each chapter.)

Word Count: 4,471

A/N: I'm gonna write this shit til I get sick of writing it. Not to suck my own dick but I am in love with this story idea so we're just gonna keep rolling til it feels right to end it lmao.

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Silk may be the worst material ever invented. It slips and slides and hides absolutely nothing. Your lungs deflate as you slide your hands down the front of the horrid thing you've been asked to wear. It was laid out on your bed for you, with a small note that said, "Get dolled up for me." It isn't signed, it doesn't need to be.

It's a note from the man that more or less owns you. He likes to say he takes care of you, you like to say he holds your leash. At the end of the day, coming to him was what you needed to do to survive, so you did it. You shake the thoughts of how you came to be here from your head, ignoring the dreadful remnants of a time when you were desperate enough to turn to him for protection.

Enji Todoroki lives one of the most complex double lives in existence. He’s a magnificent hero, topping the charts and staying there. He saves lives, lets his flames shine bright, he's a beacon of hope.

He’s also an incredibly feared underground crime lord. When the flames are off, he's no longer heroic, he's no longer honorable. He's bloodthirsty, his friends are few and his enemies are many.

Keeping these two realms separate is quite the task, but he pulls it off with his vast wealth and by calling in the seemingly limitless favors from those he’s helped out of sticky situations.

The supposedly heroic faces you’ve seen slinking around his estate were jarring at first. The mighty do indeed fall, and they tumble right into his lap. They’re always after something, a loan, various narcotics, maybe some illegal steroids to increase their performances.

Enji loves a bargain, he loves to string those poor saps along until they’re too confused to agree to anything that’s reasonable. It’s horribly entertaining, as backwards as it all is, you’ve grown fond of the way he befuddles every hopeless individual that finds themselves desperate enough to seek out his help.

Usually, you’re there by his side. You block out the conversation as you serve drinks, laugh at the bad jokes, and most of all, look pretty. Your job is to be his greatest manipulation tactic. Give the suckers something to drool at, get them drunk, stay out of the way so Enji can lock in whatever deal he’s making.

You ruffle your hair, straighten your dress, and take one final glance in your mirror.

There’s a familiar tightness in your chest when you acknowledge the real reason you’re used as something to gawk at.

Your wings.

Two broad, unruly, attention grabbing, white wings emerging from your shoulder blades. Little speckles of brown and black exist among the sea of white feathers that fall all the way to the floor. The feathers at the tips always look pitiful, since their entire existence is spent dragging the floor.

They’re useless things, heavy and cumbersome and completely nonfunctional. You could probably fly if you wanted to, if somebody would teach you. You never stood a chance at that though, your parents couldn’t even begin to do so, and Enji certainly won’t waste energy on it. No, he likes having you on the ground. Safe and sound, much more convenient to keep you without a cage.

The bones of them often ache, obviously needing to be used, desperate to do their job. They most resemble the wings of a Barn Owl. Along with the wings, your quirk provides you with exceptional vision and hearing. Sometimes it feels like a sixth sense, like you can tell when things are going to happen before they actually do.

This, of course, makes you invaluable to Enji during his meetings. You’re able to pick up on nervous ticks, listen to the whispers, and tip him off. He does love keeping you around for that, you’ve assisted him innumerable times, and he always rewards so generously. He keeps you comfortable, spoiled even, anything for his Angel.

Enji’s Angel.

It was never very official, he just started calling you by it, and you started answering to it. In your younger years it was almost affectionate, slightly comforting. Now, it’s a scarlet letter, a stage name, belonging to somebody who doesn’t quite exist.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The meeting is absolute torture. Some schmuck is sitting across from you and Enji, blubbering his way through some bullshit about how he’ll have the money next week. You’re perched on Enji’s lap, reclining against his chest with your chin up high.

You’re all sitting around a large oak coffee table in Enji’s office, drinks in hands, guns in holsters.

“I swear, the guy I know, he owes me, he says he’ll have the money by this weekend, maybe even sooner!” The sniffling client begs. He’s a pitiful little man, all short and greasy looking, with bulbous eyes that sit above a large aquiline nose.

“Oh, how reassuring, my money is in the hands of a friend of a liar,” Enji sneers, voice low and menacing, “Doesn’t that put you at ease, Angel?” His hand snakes around your waist, making his claim on you evident to everyone in the room.

The client brought two goons with him, both sit on the lavish loveseat, watching with putrid envy as Enji’s hands roam across your middle.

You run your hand up his massive chest, making a show of adjusting your hips in his lap. You flash your eyes up to his and roll your shoulders, wings rippling as you do. The room is taken over by a heavy, consuming silence.

You survey Enji’s face, void of flames for such a serious event. You hear hearts beat faster, breathing quicken, idiots, every one of them.

“No, I don’t think it does, sir.” You purr, hand playing with the collar of his grey dress shirt.

This whole charade used to make your skin crawl, feeling eyes burn into your flesh, knowing that if Enji weren’t here you’d be laid out on the table while the pigs around you took turns.

You expressed this once, crying and shaking as you begged Enji to stop bringing you into them. His only response was to demand that you tell him whenever somebody was making you uncomfortable, and he would gladly take care of it.

It only took one client, one dense motherfucker who put his hand on your thigh. The second his hand was on you, Enji put a bullet in his head. You watched the blood splatter, and the body hit the floor, but ripped your eyes away after that. You turned into Enji’s chest, clutching him as you realised it was all your doing, Enji had killed for you.

Since then, you vowed to maintain a facade of confidence in these meetings. If Enji were to kill, it would be because of his own corrupted motives, not for you, never again.

You no longer let the bile rise in your throat, you don’t look away from any perverse gaze. You keep your nerves steady, and you stare the bastards down.

One of the goons shifts in their seat, making Enji shoot him a warning glance as you continue to fiddle with his shirt.

“I don’t think it’s wise to leave so much money up to ‘maybe’ and ‘this guy’.” You sigh as you slide off Enji’s lap, keeping your hand on his chest as you slink around to stand behind him. He gives you a knowing look, full of admiration and pride, he does love watching you perform.

Show time.

You flutter your wings out to the sides, stretching them, making a spectacle of them. All three of the men watch with comically amazed expressions. Their jaws may as well be on the floor, you slide your hands onto Enji’s broad shoulders so you can rub small circles into his muscles.

“I agree, I don’t like all this ‘maybe’ bullshit.” the energy in the room thickens as he speaks, falling into heavy silence in reverence of the power his voice exudes.

"Angel, will you grab us some more drinks?" You draw yourself up tall, ignoring the eyes that gorge on your decolletage.

"Yes Sir." You lean down to place a sweet kiss on Enji's cheek, flashing a little too much skin for his guests.

"Isn't she lovely, gentlemen?" He wonders out loud, looking up at you fondly.

No, not fondly, possessively, greedily. There's no loving tenderness that comes with fondness.

The men nod quietly, all afraid to cross a line, none willing to speak out of turn.

"Do a spin for them, sweetheart." He grabs your wrist and pulls you around to his side.

Your cheeks and ears run hot as he lifts your arm for you to spin, leaving space for your wings. You give a smooth twirl, feathers and dress flowing around you with a subtle woosh.

"Men would kill for her, don't you think?" Another round of silent nods, another wave of tense energy.

"I have." It's a warning, loud and clear.

He waves his hand in your direction, dismissive and bored.

"Go on, Angel. I have to have a private word with our guests." You glide out of the room gracefully, walking slowly enough so they can all watch you leave.

You swallow the terrible feelings rising in your gut, knowing damn well how rarely people leave that room alive after a "private word". You find your way to the kitchen easily, a tray of drinks already prepared on the fine granite countertop.

Enji's estate is nothing short of magnificent, all expensive foreign materials, gold fixtures and crystal chandeliers. All supplied by his mass of illegally acquired wealth.

One of the sweet little maids nods at you, gawking at your wings as always. You have a strange relationship with the staff at the house, they always treat you like some skittish animal. Afraid that you're unpredictable, even dangerous.

It's always seemed odd to you, but you've grown to understand it. None of them know where you came from, nor how you ended up in Enji's good graces, let alone a cherished prize to him.

On your way back down the hall, you hear the shouting of men, not an usual occurrence, but this time it makes your blood run cold. It sounds much more… painful, then usual. Cries for help mixed with curses and strangled yells. You freeze when the door rattles with such force, the only explanation can be that a body was thrown against it.

Then, there's silence. Silence, followed by sick laughter. You know Enji's voice too well, his rich tone fills your ears, but there's one other. Did he have an accomplice? It's not uncommon for Enji to have all his bases covered, so it's possible one of the goons was a double agent.

Your feet find their function again and you pad quietly towards the door. You take a second to breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the inevitable bloodshed you're about to witness.

You rap your knuckles on the door very quietly, wouldn't want to disturb the dead.

"Angel? Is that you?" Enji's voice calls as his laughter settles, the other man went silent as soon as your hand met the wood of the door.

"Yes sir." You say, trying to keep your voice soft but still wanting to be heard.

"Oh shit, get this out of the way."

A body.

You hear something slide then drop, and your chest squeezes with guilt. One day you won't have these feelings, one day seeing someone drop dead will evoke no more feeling than watching dead hair fall to the ground after it's trimmed. At least, that's what Enji tells you.

The door cracks open, a wall of a human standing on the other side of it. Enji beams down at you, the smallest amount of blood decorates his gray collar.

"Why do you always get so messy when I leave?" You tease, despite the sick feeling in your gut.

"It's a messy business." He counters, holding the door for you to step into the room. You expect the slit throats, the smell of blood, and the horrid joy in Enji's face. What you don't expect, is the creature poised in the corner of the room.

A creature with wings. No, not a creature, a man. With menacing, vibrant, crimson wings. His face is nothing but sharp serious lines, highlights of gold with intense shadows. He's covered in slim fitting black clothing, giving him a tactical and militant look.

He looks so powerful, and so beautiful. The only thing you can think to compare him to is a fallen angel, heavenly, but haunting.

In his hands, he holds a… sword? Then he steps further into view, and you see the blade shift. A feather. With a smooth, deadly twitch of his wrist, he flicks the rigid feather. It sends blood splattering across the floor where he stands.

His glowing eyes watch you, waiting for you to react, maybe waiting for you to scream, run away and hide. You can't, though, you're entranced. He has wings. Your own twitch behind your back, suddenly feeling even more cumbersome and useless after seeing how athletic and beautiful his own are.

As gruesome as the scene is, he's magnificent, stunning in such an overwhelming way. His eyes rake over your body, but it doesn't feel perverse, it feels like he's sizing you up, estimating your abilities.

Because he is.

"Angel, this is Hawks, he's a very good friend of mine." Enji explains, relaxing back into his chair as you and Hawks continue to watch each other.

You would never know it, but his breath hitched the second he saw you. Enji had told him about his Angel, but his description did you no justice. To Hawks, at least, you look capable, intimidating even. Your wings are equal in size to his, but compared to your smaller frame they look so fierce.

Neither of you has seen or heard of someone with a quirk like yours, or even remotely similar. So you stand there, amazed, in fear, sizing each other up.

"Isn't she something?" Enji's voice pulls you out of your trance, your eyes finally breaking from his friend's.

Hawks just hums, eyes still locked on your form as you set the tray of drinks down in front of Enji. He pours one for himself, then one for you, and one for Hawks. You take a glance around at the gore surrounding you, and shake your head at the drink.

"Not tonight, I'm tired." You try to sell it as best you can, but Enji sees right through you.

"Her stomach isn't very strong yet, sensitive little thing." He says to Hawks.

When you glance over to him, his reaction unsettles you. He grins, a broad, breathtaking thing. He's amused, embarrassed for you. How silly of you to be so bothered by a fucking murder scene.

Aside from the dead bodies, you can't stand another second under the predatory gaze of Enji's new friend. The whole scene makes you more uncomfortable than anything has in a long while. It's very apparent by Enji's lack of weapons, and by Hawks' feral appearance, that Hawks is some kind of hit man.

"Get some rest, then." Enji says dismissively.

You kiss him on the cheek, earning a rare smile from his usual straight lips. There's no affection behind your kiss, but there is loyalty, and he knows that.

Doing your best not to seem like you're in a rush, you keep your head down and walk steadily towards the door.

"Nice to meet you, Angel." His voice is like caramel syrup, dripping over you and heating you up.

You hate it.

You give him nothing but a turse nod then duck out the door, trying to keep your heart in it's cage, trying to keep your hands from shaking. What the hell was that?

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You spend some time in the library before heading to bed. The fireplace crackles and pops, casting beautiful, dancing lights on the dark oak bookshelves. It's not a massive library, but it's decent. Full of books that have been collected by Enji, but not read. You do the reading, he does the acquiring.

Not tonight, though. Tonight you just sit, you sit and overthink. You can't seem to shake the uneasy feeling this "Hawks" character gave you. He was so primal looking, so unhinged, so… beastly.

The contrast of his beauty is what keeps punching you in the gut. He was nothing short of stunning, like a marble statue brought to life by an enchantress. That's even without his wings. God, his wings. He must look spectacular in the air, so majestic.

You stuff the thought down, deep down. The longing in your chest is enough to make your eyes sting with tears. Flying. A feeling you've never known, but the instinct burns beneath your skin. You wonder if even knows how lucky he is…

You grab onto those thoughts before they run away, standing to your feet with a stretch and a ruffle of your own wings.

You just need sleep, you need to shake this off. Enji has plenty of "friends", plenty of lowlifes and murderers that he keeps close. Hawks is no different, he'll linger for a bit, then disappear under mysterious circumstances, and you'll never hear his name again.

The thought should bring your comfort as you travel to your bedroom, but as you wander through the halls, your chest aches. Somehow, the idea of not knowing all you can about this stranger makes you itch. Which in turn, makes you detest his presence even more. There's no reason for such a fascination… aside from your resemblance to him.

The sound of your bedroom door latching behind you does bring you some piece, lifting some of the weight off of your lungs. Until you hear the slightest ruffle echo from the direction of your window.

The hair on your neck stands on end as you draw your wings up to their full size. Your shoulders are rigid, fists clenched as you whip your head around to identify the sound.

"Do you always sleep with the door unlocked?" That sugary voice falls on your ears once again, raising goosebumps all over your body.

You don't answer, you only watch, inching backwards towards the door. There could be only one reason one of Enji's friends would corner you like this, the thought makes your heart beat to the point of nearly breaking through your chest.

He's perched on your windowsill, feet dangling into the room, wings relaxed behind him as the wind catches his scarlet feathers. The curtains away around him as they catch the cool breeze, the whole scene gives him an almost ghostly look, especially with the pale light of the moon as the only illumination in your bedroom.

"Easy, kid." He slides off lazily, arms crossed as he saunters towards you, "I just wanted to talk."

His lips quirk up into an easy smirk, something that makes your insides stir.

"Talk quick, then get out." You snap, pressing your back against the door, drawing your wings in around yourself protectively as your arms wrap around your chest. He stops nearly a foot from you, his own wings spread wide, almost like he's showing off.

The energy is thick, pressing on your lungs as you watch his face. He looks down his nose at you, not judging, but observing. His eyes are lit with a patient look, something soft but relatively unreadable. His proximity overwhelms you, even up close, you're hard pressed to find a single flaw.

There you stand, shrouded in scarlet, him in white. Both waiting for the other to speak, or move, or even breathe. Desperate for some evidence that you were both real and not some apparition sent to mock your poor mortal brain with an image of unparalleled perfection.

Wild, dazzling, gilded eyes search your face. Predatory pupils slit as he takes in every detail he can. His chest rises, and he speaks. He utters a simple, "They're beautiful." and everything shatters.

A cadence of feelings builds within your chest, tuning up like an orchestra. All unorganized noise, arching and mixing, impossible to focus on anything in particular.

Then the most beautiful part, the settling of the chaos. All of the instruments find their notes as they fade out. The anticipatory silence settles within you, preparing you for the moment when they all roll into the first cord of their symphony.

You don't feel right taking the name Angel, not after this, not after you've seen one. Your reverence for his beauty is short lived, though. As soon as you remember the way his eyes were wild with bloodlust, the way he had taken lives with his own feathers.

Admiration is replaced with apprehension. However, the strongest feeling is curiosity, morbid, forbidden curiosity.

You shove the compliment to the far corners of your brain, ignoring the fire it stokes in your heart.

"Talk or leave." You say shortly.

"Not a fan of flattery?" He asks, quirking a thick eyebrow.

"Not a fan of coercion." You reply, arms drawing tighter around your chest.

Hawks pauses for a moment, considering your answer.

"What are you a fan of?" His smile grows a bit more as he turns away from you on his heels, looking almost bored. You stay glued to your door, wrapped around yourself, completely frozen.

"Well, I'm usually a fan of not having my room invaded by murderers." You sneer, attempting to ignore the way his body moves so elegantly as he investigates your room with fabricated intrigue.

He scoffs a bit at your feisty retort, looking over his shoulder to give you quick up and down with his eyes. He wanders back to the window, back to you as he takes a look out.

"A murderer. That's a bold accusation, sweetheart." He turns around again, backlit by the moonlight.

"Can you use em'?" He asks, nodding behind you.

The question bites at your insides, it twists your guts up onto angry knots.

You shake your head, you can't say it out loud, you can't admit it.

His face falls the slightest bit, less amused, more aware. Perhaps he feels sympathy, imagining a life without the freedom of flight.

"I see." He says quietly, "A dove?" He wonders out loud.

His prying starts to eat at your patience, you already feel intruded upon by him sneaking into your bedroom, and now he wants to dissect your anatomy? Yet, you still find yourself drawn to the conversation, hanging on his words, hoping to gain information about him in exchange for information about yourself.

"Owl." You say simply, easing off the door a little so you can spread your wings some, "The markings give it away."

He nods, taking in the messy brown and black speckles at the tips.

"How did you do that with your feather?" You ask, works spilling out a little too fast.

Both of his eyebrows shoot up, surprised by your sudden engagement in the conversation.

His only reply is by drawing himself up by his shoulders. Then, miraculously, one of his feathers flies from his wing, darting straight for you until it pauses in front of your face. You flinch slightly before it pauses, then you stand transfixed, watching the small crimson blade levitate before you.

You want to reach out and grab it, find the string that's holding it up, find the answer to this magic trick.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He says, full of confidence as he sways back over to you, "You can touch it." He says gently.

So you do, you take it into your hand gently. The texture is shocking, it's soft and silky, much more pleasant than your coarse and textured feathers.

"How?" You ask, amazed by his abilities.

He shrugs and turns around again, pacing back to the window. You take a mental note of his inability to stand still for longer than a few seconds.

"I just… can." He says it so matter of fact, like it's the obvious answer.

Now that he's more relaxed, not holding a feather dripping with blood, he seems almost... Friendly? He certainly seems less frightening, less aggressive and formidable.

You hold the feather in your palms, waiting for the next trick.

"Keep it." He says as he settles back down onto the windowsill, sitting like he was when you first found him.

He stretches an arm around to brace on the outside of the window frame, leaning back into the open air of the night. For a brief moment you panic, knowing you're on the third floor, but then you just feel stupid for being concerned for a person with functioning wings.

"Why?" You ask, closing in your hands as you look up at him.

His smile is devilish, he rolls his shoulders back and lifts himself up to his feet. He crowds the large window, filling it with his lean body and those powerful wings.

"In case you need me." He winks and gives you a lazy, two finger salute before letting himself fall away into the sky.

Your chest lurches as you dart to the window, desperate to see him in action, desperate to see someone fly.

By the time you reach the window, though, he's nowhere to be seen. Evaporated into the stars, not even the sound of beating wings left as evidence.

You glance down at the feather in your hands, and notice it twitch to life before it floats up to hover in front of your face again. Your chest fills with an absolute mess of unorganized, chaotic feelings that you can't even begin to pull apart and make sense of.

The feather flicks under your chin, tickling the skin there with its pointed tip. You snatch it roughly, irritated with the teasing, perturbed by his nonchalance. You slam the window shut before huffing over to your dresser, you rip a drawer open and shove the feather between your clothes.

You slam it shut as the raging sea of emotions beats against your chest, drowning your lungs as well as any cognitive brain function.

You can't make sense of any of this shit, you can't imagine how anyone could have ever made it up to your room without Enji's knowledge. Unless… he was let up… but that doesn't make any sense. None of it does. It's all so cloudy, you feel thousands of questions swarm your brain, and you don't possess a single answer.

The only thing you know for sure, is that you have to find out more about this fallen angel, you have to find out more about Hawks.

[chockfullofsecrets]

Star Wars: Gentler, Harder

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: He waits for Poe to twist around before continuing. “You were kind of being one, weren’t you? Teasing Rey like that.”

Finn’s got a mischievous look on his face, one Poe hasn’t seen on him before, and for all that Poe knows he’s not supposed to be moving he feels his stomach flip like he’s just entered a spiral dive.

Rey’s voice is far too close on his other side, sounding livelier than she has since he’s met her. “Does that mean we have to tickle him now?”

Wordcount: 2.6k

A/N: @ticklesofcolor event fill for @ticklishnonsense! Prompts were a combination of “Poe really loves getting tickled and has to ask for it” and “Finn gets taught how to tickle someone” - I am looking at those CR prompts, believe me, but I thought it would be fun to try something new too :)

---

“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes!”

Poe’s still not over the way Finn beams every time he sees him - he startles a little, probably on just enough symoxin to dull the rest of his senses along with the nerves, and breaks into a smile so brilliant against his dark skin that it’s hard not to squint. “Poe!”

He sounds like he’s still excited about having actual names to call. Poe tries not to think about it too hard.

Rey, curled up on the other side of the medical bed in, does her best impression of not looking expectantly at him. Poe grins and holds out a nutrition bar that she snatches and squirrels away somewhere in her dangling wraps faster than he can follow. “Good day?”

“Yes,” she says, perfunctorily making room for him to sit. She and Finn are close, he knows, and they’re never far from one another if they can help it - they do have enough spare beds that their two newest recruits shouldn’t be sharing one, he’s checked - but she’s not much for cuddling, and over the past few days they’ve worked out an unspoken agreement that Poe gets to crawl in between the two of them whenever he comes by. “Finn’s doctor says he’s almost ready for the next round of surgery, but he still shouldn’t be moving around.”

Poe squirms into a sitting position against the uncomfortable starchiness of the singular medbay pillow and looks Finn over as the two of them attempt to quote jargon about vertebrae and internal splints at him. He does look well, bandages aside, but it looks like clapping his shoulder still isn’t a good idea- instead, he settles for smacking a kiss against the coarse corkscrew curls that are just starting to grow out of Finn’s military cut. It’s a good look on him.

Finn interrupts himself to laugh and punch Poe gently in the shoulder with his good arm. “What about you, pilot? Do anything crazy today?”

A metric ton of paperwork, mostly. “Wait, wait - Rey, what about you?”

She frowns at him, same as every time he’s asked. “I still don’t think there’s anything wrong with me that would keep me from doing mechanic work-”

Finn shifts behind him. Poe twists back to him and catches his wince just as he gets close enough to whisper loudly, “She’s only had two headaches, I’ve been watching her all day.”

“Finn! I’ve been watching you,” Rey insists, wide-eyed. “If they let me out, I can start getting supplies for us, and - Poe Dameron, stop looking at me like that-”

“Like what?” he asks, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

“The-” She gestures tightly in the general direction of his face, which only makes him laugh harder.

“Okay, okay, I just-” He fishes another nutrition bar out of his jacket and breaks it into three, holding out a portion to either side. “We have enough supplies for you and Finn, Rey. It took me four days to recover from whatever Kylo Ren did to my head - not saying you can’t do it in less, but I know how it felt and you need rest. The General herself said so, and she knows more about the Force than anyone here.”

Rey stuffs the food into her cheek and sinks back into herself, rubbing a little self-consciously at the dark circles under her eyes, and it’s hard to stop himself from reaching out to her, unwelcome as it might be given that they’ve just met and he’s technically the reason she’s not waist-deep in machinery right now. He’d tell her about the little manifest of speeder parts and a run-down X-wing he’s been saving for her to look at when she’s well, but he’s a little afraid that it’ll make her even more restless. “I nearly escaped an enemy base by myself and no one will even let me check the hyperdrive strain on the Falcon, but people keep coming in here and asking Finn for - for intel, whatever that means.”

“First Order secrets,” Finn intones, and lets out a semi-hysterical laugh. Poe’s heart lurches. He’d do anything to keep these two protected, safe, but for the cause-

He can do his best to cheer them up, at least, even if he’s feeling a little wiped himself. “Well,” he says, flicking Rey’s knee playfully, “we all know which one of you went around calling himself a ‘big deal’ in the Resistance, so-”

“Poe Dameron,” Rey hisses, rocking forward and launching a flurry of insistent pokes at his belly, “I’ll - I’ll take the Force and - Poe?”

Poe is - he’s not that ticklish, or at least that’s what he tells himself, but prodding at his soft spots is mean and he’s already half-sunk in laughter as he instinctively scrambles away from her.

Finn makes a startled sound just to his right, and he realizes abruptly that someone’s going to get hurt if he doesn’t stop flailing around. “Rey - Rey, wahahait-”

She pulls her hand back, brow furrowed. “What was that?”

“Wait, are you ticklish?” Finn asks.

Every nerve in Poe’s body sings at actually hearing the word. Clearly, it’s been a while.

Rey looks even more confused. “Ticklish?”

“The laughing,” Finn clarifies. “It usually happens when you poke someone in a ticklish spot.”

“Oh.” Rey looks adorably contrite. “Sorry, Poe, I didn’t know you were - ticklish? There?”

Goosebumps prickle at the back of his neck - they just keep saying it - but there’s a sudden, disappointing clarity at the realization that they’re not actually going to keep tickling him if he doesn’t say anything. “Oh, uh, I don’t mind, really I-”

I like it, he finishes in his head, but the words catch, warm and embarrassed, in the back of his throat and he just coughs instead. He scoots gingerly back towards Rey and tries again. “Um. I’m used to it, it’s not like Jess hasn’t used it against me when she thinks I’m being a brat.”

“Well,” Finn says, and that’s not a tone Poe’s ever heard from him before.

He waits for Poe to twist around before continuing. “You were kind of being one, weren’t you? Teasing Rey like that.”

Finn’s got a mischievous look on his face, one Poe hasn’t seen on him before, and for all that Poe knows he’s not supposed to be moving he feels his stomach flip like he’s just entered a spiral dive.

Rey’s voice is far too close on his other side, sounding livelier than she has since he’s met her. “Does that mean we have to tickle him now?”

He whips his head around just in time to see Rey pounce on him. She pins his legs neatly with hers, one wiry forearm bracing across his chest and the other pressed lightly over his mouth, and Poe abruptly feels trapped.

He should probably be more worried about that.

“You’re loud,” she tells him matter-of-factly, her sharp chin inches from his ear, “and if you don’t stay in once place you’re going to hurt Finn. Tap out if you want me to let you up.”

His fingers are twitching. He flattens them against the mattress.

She makes a satisfied sound and turns - he can’t see Finn past her, but it’s unlikely that he’s gone anywhere in the last thirty seconds, at least. “So now we just - poke him?”

“Kind of,” Finn says. “But Rey, you’ve gotta have a hand free-”

Rey’s hand flexes briefly over his mouth. “You do it, then.”

Finn sounds uncertain. “I can barely see his face from over here; it’ll be hard to tell if I’m doing it right.”

Brown eyes abruptly fill his field of vision as Rey looks back at him. Poe holds his breath, anticipating, as she presses her thumb to the corner of the silly, helpless smile working its way over his face and grins - a brief, childish thing he’s only seen her wear in the hangars.

“I’ll tell you, then.”

Poe squeaks.

Suddenly there are five little points of warmth on his right side, tickling mercilessly over the tender line just under his ribcage. The zinging sensation shoots over his chest, up under his collarbones, and-

He dissolves into gasping laughter, arching up into Rey’s arm before he can even think about laying still. “Oh,” he gets out, “oho - ohnohoho-”

Part of him expected that Finn wouldn’t really know how tickling worked, being in the First Order and all. That part of him is currently experiencing instant, severe regret as clever fingers work their way into the grooves between his lower ribs, forming into pincers and kneading just firmly enough to make him twist and squeal. “Ahaha - aaa! - no - eheeeh-”

He kicks free, for a moment, heels dragging frantically against the bed. Rey makes a frustrated noise and kicks back. “Finn, gentle,” she orders, “it’s too much for him.”

Poe’s somewhat offended by this unflattering evaluation of his abilities - at least, until Finn makes an affirming noise and the kneading lightens to a soft, barely-there fluttering of nails against his skin.

Then, he’s just desperate.

It’s. It’s not even enough to make him laugh, is the thing - he’s just wheezing out breathless, hiccupy giggles into Rey’s palm as Finn wanders his way up his ribcage, pausing occasionally to rub gentle circles when he stumbles across somewhere especially sensitive. It’s hell.

“Rey,” he tries, muffled, making the herculean attempt to unfist his hands and nudge her in the shoulder. “Rey.”

She looks down at him, questioning, and he gives her his most pleading look. He knows she can read his desperation clear as day, he knows-

She blinks. “Keep going,” she tells Finn, “I don’t think he’s sorry yet.”

Finn, bless his non-evil heart and inability to hear Poe whine in fruitless protest, laughs and pets the soft, trembling skin under Poe’s arm with one careful fingertip. “Really? C’mon, Poe, what’s it gonna take?”

This, apparently, because Poe is ready to say anything in the entire karking galaxy to get them to actually tickle him - the only thing worse, he thinks, would be if they stopped.

He whines again and squeezes his arms against his sides as tightly as he can, hoping beyond hope that it’ll make Finn take retaliatory measures. Rey just tsks and moves her hand away from his mouth, and he sighs in relief in the brief, blessed instant before she clamps down on his forearm and pulls his arm up.

Solves the audibility problem, at least. “Finn,” he pleads, wheezing between the snickers being forced out of shivering lungs, and wow, that’s not how his voice usually sounds. “Fihihihiiiiinn - Finn! Dohon’t - just - please, I can’t-”

Finn sounds amused. “Rey, you think he wants us to stop? Sounds pretty sorry to me.”

“No,” Poe says hastily, and promptly shuts his eyes before he can see their reaction to that. “Just - do it right, come on-”

There’s sudden, piercing doubt in Rey’s voice as she loosens her grip on him. “What do you mean - Finn, are we doing it wrong?”

He has to say something, but what-

And then.

He can’t see them, but - but he can feel, just for a moment-

The thing brushing up against the edges of his mind is instantly, quintessentially Rey - grit and stubbornness and a rusty, childish mischievousness all swirling, with the bitter concern of being wrong briefly at the forefront - it skims over his thoughts like sand over desert dunes, not graceful but gentle, nothing like Kylo Ren’s digging and bruising intrusion -

It. It kind of tickles.

He laughs, sudden and startled, and with Rey braced over him it’s impossible not to hear the pleased sound she makes in response. “Oh, I see.”

The Force, Poe realizes, is a kriffing snitch.

He cracks an eye open and fails entirely not to blush at the way Rey’s beaming triumphantly down at him. “Poe,” she commands. “Tell Finn what you want him to do.”

He sputters. “What? I thought that was your job. And you can’t use the Force, that’s not fair-”

She beams even wider. “There’s more than one way to make you sorry, Poe - come on, tell Finn which one you like better, tell him!”

“Wait, you used the Force?” Finn’s confusion only makes him blush harder. “Poe? You can tell us if you want us to stop, you know-”

“I don’t,” he blurts out, and immediately has to close his eyes again as every ounce of blood in his body rushes to his face. “I - I want - Rey, I can’t-”

“Say it,” she orders, and he wonders if that’s the Force echoing in his ears.

Well, if he’s going to be pressured into saying it, might as well be by the galaxy’s newest Jedi. “Can - can you t-tick-” Come on, Dameron, lo que no me mata- “-oh, kriff it, just tickle me harder, please, I can’t take it-”

He trails off, breathing hard, and Rey pats him twice on the cheek like a proud tía before slapping her hand back over his mouth. “I think he’s going to be a lot louder now. Finn?”

Ten fingers wriggle their way into his right armpit, and Poe yelps.

It’s not any more bearable than the fluttering and tracing, except that it is, and Poe can’t help but relax into the helpless laughter as Finn prods and pinches his way all the way down to his hip before working his way back up under his arm. He lingers at Poe’s ribs, kneading between two particular sensitive ribs and giggling as Poe tries to shove his mean, mean hands away with arms that have all the strength of a used bacta patch. “Eheheeeeh - ha, aaaaa - hahaha, nononoplease-”

“He says no,” Rey conveys over his head.

“No?” Finn says, teasing. He lightens his touch just enough to make Poe shriek in panicked frustration before going right back to kneading. “Aw, Poe, I thought you said this is what you wanted!”

Poe’s pretty sure there’s a solid four inches between the bed and his spine, with how desperately he’s arching his back and wriggling to escape the awful teasing, and as Rey wrestles him back down Finn’s fingers slip onto his belly.

He screams.

There’s a moment of complete, terrible stillness as Rey looks down at him with utter delight. “Finn!” she chirps. “Do that again!”

“Hm? Right here?”

Poe feels something warm and wriggly slide between him and Rey, up under his shirt where it’s come untucked with all the struggling, and promptly makes the executive decision to tap out before he ends up earning himself a ticket to the medbay with more psychic damage.

“Wait, he’s-”

“Rey, he wants-”

Finn and Rey both pause, Finn’s hand unmoving on his belly. Rey inches her hand off his mouth. “Poe?”

“Tapping out,” he wheezes. Rey gets halfway off him before jerking back to lean on his shoulders, fixing him with a mock-stern look that nearly has him breaking down into nervous giggles all over again. “I will get to fly the Falcon again, right?”

Poe tips his head back onto the bed, gulping down air. “I get the feeling I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to, but yes. General’s even got it listed under your name in the manifest, now.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh. I - I have a ship?”

“You’ve got a ship,” he confirms, and loses his breath all over again as she darts in for a fierce, joyful hug. It takes a bit of doing, but he manages to shove his way to enough of a sitting position to lean the both of them up against Finn, wrapping their arms together in a joyful tangle.

It feels right - like fighters flying in formation, like the spiraling balance of the Force the few times he’s been witness to it.

His cheeks are red and sore from laughter, but he can’t help smiling.

[hiccstrxd]

Revelations

This idea ocurred to me last year, i started it on august and i’m only now finishing it lol. This one shot takes place during the battle in htty3 and then it time skips to a little bit after the dragons had left. This wasn’t proofread so there might be a few mistakes. 

This is obviously a self-indulgent hiccstrid fic because i just love them way too much. 

It has been crossposted on AO3 as well!

xx

“I think that’s the last one, let’s head back now!” She yelled over all the commotion, dodging a flying axe going her way that dangerously missed her by mere inches. She sprinted for a run then, trying her best to evade any threats and deeply hoping her legs wouldn’t give up beneath her. 

The more she ran, the more the tightness in her chest increased— the lack of air in her lungs suddenly became a restraint. She mustered what was left of her strength and put two fingers in between her mouth, blowing out some air. Almost immediately, she heard Stormfly’s familiar squawk from above, the Nadder landing gracefully on the decaying ship’s deck in the midst of chaos. 

She grasped the saddle tightly and in one swift motion pulled herself atop of the leather seat. Stormfly took off right after, the already cauterized wooden surface in which they were standing promptly shattered after her dragon’s strong impulse. 

She faintly saw the other riders mounting on their dragons, trailing not too far behind her, but her main concern was to get back to the cliff on time. 

“Come on, girl!” Astrid pressed herself forward trying to gain more speed, the high steep getting closer with each flutter of wings. She could hear distant cheering, the often roaring of some dragons that were nearby, blasts that soundly went off in the distance, and lastly, collective muffled screams. 

And then silence. 

The hasty change of atmosphere left her perplexed, with a strange feeling of dread, almost stopping her midair. At once, she became alert, looked around for any threats and squinted her eyes for better focus. 

And for a few seconds, her heart stopped. A loud gasp deliberately escaped from her lips. 

No. 

He was falling. Gravity pulling him downwards with such velocity that seemed inconceivable. 

She saw him plummeting down to certain death with Grimmel clinging to his flying suit. She saw Grimmel relentlessly tearing apart every bit of the handmade wings that were until that point unharmed. She saw Grimmel clutching his prosthetic as a last attempt to survive when he lost his grip on his shoulders. She saw Grimmel bring down Berk’s Chief and her entire heart with him. 

Suddenly a new sense of strength overcome her and she urged Stormfly to fly even faster. The Nadder, sensing her rider’s distress, complied with little coaxing, letting out a soft squawk as a way of comfort. 

Her eyes began to sting, a few tears threatening to fall down, prickling her lashes but she wouldn’t let them, not now. Her hands started to ache from gripping the saddle tightly, her legs feeling numb from squeezing her knees firmly against Stormfly’s sides as to not fall off and also as the only other thing keeping her from doing anything drastic.

She kept her gaze forward — even if it hurt seeing such scene display before her — it served as a motivation to keep on going. But despite her dragon’s effort, they were still too far away. He was too far away. 

Her mind wandered to all those things that could have been, if circumstances were to be different, if their day-to-day life weren’t an occupational hazard of some sort. Visions of a future that just seconds ago seemed so plausible we’re being snatched out of her grasp with such cruelty, leaving a bitter aftermath in its wake. 

Thoughts of warm embraces, tingly touches, blinding smiles, tinted cheeks, tiny fingers—

Her breath hitched. 

Her heart constricted. 

Her vision blurred and breathing became even more difficult than when she was running away from the turmoil in the ships. 

But dwelling on it wasn’t an option, time was at stake — no, time was only an appendage of the bigger picture and she wasn’t about to push her luck on that one.

An instruction fell from her lips, voice coming out more strangled than she cared to admit. Astrid was about to encourage Stormfly to keep flying forward when suddenly a white blob came at high speed towards the free-falling pair, its front paws taking ahold of one very stubborn, selfless Viking. 

And she couldn’t remember another time when she felt as relieved as in that particular moment. 

She never brought it up and nobody actually knew, aside from the gang, that she was well aware of what had transpired that fateful afternoon. There were some hushed whispers whenever she entered a stall and odd hand motions meant to silence whatever was going to be said about the matter and the sorrowful looks —oh, the looks— that were sent her way when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

She had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes at all of it because it was silly, so utterly silly. There was absolutely nothing to feel gloom for, everything was alright (well, that wasn’t entirely true, the dragon’s depart to the hidden world was still a very painful memory) but they better drop the subject before she shows them herself just how well she’s managing. 

Hiccup was fine, he was safe, she wasn’t going to lose him just yet, they were going to get married after all, he couldn’t—

But he almost did.

And it was in that moment, during one of her throwing practices in New Berk’s uncharted woods, that she finally let everything sink in. And this time, she didn’t even try to choke back the sob that escaped her lips nor withhold the tears from freely cascading down her cheeks. 

She faintly heard the calming rustling of leaves from the trees above her and the distinguished uneven sound of a metal prosthesis and a boot stepping on branches and fallen leaves.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you nonstop—“his sentence was cut short the moment his very vivid, expressive green eyes landed on her and she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth because he wore his heart on his sleeve and he was caring, selfless Hiccup and she loved him, accident prone or not. 

His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes held now a softer gaze and from where she was standing she could already see the wheels on his mind turning, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

She faintly registered his movements, steady footsteps approaching her slowly. In a matter of seconds he was enveloping in a tight hug, one of his hands cradling the back of her head while the other was wrapped around her waist and there was nothing she could do but hug him back just as tightly, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

She always took pride in her ability to conceal her stronger emotions. She dealt with them as the strong shieldmaiden she was raised to be, always facing them head-first. But, she thought, there’s nothing wrong with letting your walls down once in a while. Preferably not too often though. 

“I thought I had lost you.” she managed to say in between sobs, muffled by the fabric of his shirt and so low that she almost thought he didn’t hear her. But somehow he did because his grip around her tightened as did hers around his torso. 

Astrid decided against of adding the for sure at the end since, she believes, it’s heavily implied. There were many times in which she was very close to losing him through the years, but this one seemed so much real, so much dreadful.

Neither of them were sure of how long they stayed embraced in the deep ends of New Berk’s forest, but they certainly didn’t care either when the sun started to set on the horizon, a chilly breeze rustling the leaves up on the trees, signaling that the night was upon them. 

She took one last deep breath and slowly untangled herself from the hug. He took a small step back and raised his hand to gently wipe the remaining tears gracing her face. She leaned into his touch, bringing her hand upwards to lace their fingers together and smiling softly when he brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle lovingly.

Gods, she loves him.

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

kickstart my heart

The sequel to boys boys boys that has been requested. You were right, peeps, we definitely needed some Sam/Bucky fluff. So, here you go.

This can also be found over on AO3.

*

1

Sam’s so absorbed in his text conversation with Sharon—there’s always some crazy shit going down in Madripoor—that it takes him a while to notice that Bucky hasn’t returned with their refills yet.

The coffee shop isn’t busy, so he quickly spots Bucky by the register, and has to snort when he realises what’s going on. Bucky’s got a hip propped against the counter, casual and loose, and is smiling sweetly at the barista, dimples out in full force. Sam’s too far away to hear what’s being said, but the barista’s cheeks are flushed, and as Sam watches, his hand slowly, carefully moves closer to Bucky’s until their pinkies just barely touch.

It still catches Sam by surprise, sometimes, to see Bucky like this, confident and at peace with himself. Laughing freely at whatever the barista is saying, eyes crinkled at the corners, and smile flirty when he answers back with something that has the barista duck his head, giggling shyly.

Bucky’s always been gorgeous, Sam will freely admit that to anyone but the man in question, but Bucky content and happy is something else entirely.

“Do not ruin this place for us,” Sam warns, just loud enough that he knows Bucky’s enhanced hearing will pick it up, “they have the best carrot cake in the city, man.”

Bucky never looks away from the barista, but he does flip Sam off behind his back, so he definitely caught it.

(Watch out for the break!)

Chuckling to himself, Sam picks his phone up again. Sarah’s sent a series of adorable pictures of Cass and AJ, and Sam is gushing over them like the loving uncle he is when a steaming cup is set down by his elbow. He looks up as Bucky drops into the chair across the table, eyes immediately zeroing in on the plate in his hand.

“Special delivery,” Bucky teases with a quiet laugh, and pushes the giant piece of carrot cake towards Sam. “You’re welcome.”

Sam’s heart flutters traitorously.

2

“I am a trained medical professional, Sergeant Barnes, I can assure you that I know what I’m doing.”

Bucky doesn’t stop glowering at the doctor, looming over her back as she finishes up with the stitches on Sam’s forehead. Sam hisses when she ties off the last one, and Bucky breathes out something that sounds suspiciously like a growl.

The doctor doesn’t seem fazed. Sam shoots her an apologetic smile anyway.

His wrist is badly sprained, she tells him while she puts it in a brace, and he’s bruised pretty much all over, but there are no more serious injuries to worry about. As soon as he’s cleared to leave, Bucky’s right there with an arm around his waist, snatching the bottle of painkillers the doctor holds out with a glare.

Sam can see the doctor trying very hard not to roll her eyes.

He nods off on the drive home, head on Bucky’s shoulder, and barely wakes up enough to stagger up to his apartment with Bucky’s guiding hands on his shoulders. He’s deposited on his bed, dozing lightly until Bucky returns a few minutes later with a glass of water, and helps him sit up enough to swallow one of the painkillers.

The last thing he hears before he falls asleep again is Bucky tugging and cursing at the laces of his boots.

It’s dark out when Sam wakes up again, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, and panting wildly. His hand is trembling when he rubs it over his wet eyes, and he has to clench his teeth against the sob he can feel bubbling up his throat.

He startles when his bedroom door creaks open, and watches in sleepy confusion as Bucky makes his way across the room towards the bed. Bucky is warm and solid when he reaches out for Sam, hands gentle as he pulls Sam close, and Sam is too exhausted to question anything, just lets himself be tucked against Bucky’s side, head on his chest.

Bucky tugs the sheets up and over them without a word.

Sam breathes out shakily, fingers curling into Bucky’s shirt, and closes his eyes again.

3

Joaquín’s face as he walks out of the plane is very telling.

“So, the good news is,” he starts, grease-streaked hands on his hips, “I can fix the engine. Well. I think I can. Probably.”

Sam and Bucky exchange a sceptical look.

“Rude,” Joaquín sniffs.

Sam quirks a brow at him. “I’m assuming there’s some bad news, too?”

“There’s always bad news,” Bucky mutters, which is, more often than not, true.

He shrugs off his combat jacket, and Sam gets momentarily distracted by the way his damp undershirt clings to his abs. Joaquín clears his throat, mouth pursed in amusement when Sam turns back to him.

Sam narrows his eyes at him. Joaquín just grins back.

“Well?” Bucky demands.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, so,” Joaquín grimaces, “I don’t actually have the parts I need—”

Sam and Bucky groan in unison.

“—but! But I managed to get through to HQ, and they’ll airdrop everything I need.” He pauses, looking shifty, before he adds, much quieter, “In about eight hours.”

“What the fuck,” Bucky hisses, at the same time as Sam yells, “Eight hours?”

Joaquín spreads his arms wide, gesturing around them. “Well, I mean. We are in the middle of the jungle, you know?”

Which, unfortunately, is also true.

With not much else to do but wait, they decide to set out and explore the area around the crash site. The plane is stocked with emergency rations that will last them for a while, but they’re low on water, and in this heat, that could become a problem pretty soon.

The universe, mercifully, decides to give them a break, and they find a small lake after only about half an hour of searching. Sam whistles appreciatively, and Joaquín actually pumps his fist, whooping, “Nice!”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but immediately starts kicking off his boots.

“Uh,” Joaquín says, unsure, peering into the seemingly calm lake. “Do you think that’s a good idea? We don’t know what lives in there.”

Bucky only snorts at that. “I think I can handle an alligator,” he declares, pulls off his shirt, and, with a wink in Sam’s direction, dives headfirst into the water.

“So.” Joaquín eyes Sam with a mischievous little smirk on his face. “What’s going on here? Anything you wanna tell me?”

“That you’re way too nosy,” Sam shoots back, but has to smile when Joaquín just laughs, and nudges their shoulders together.

“You seem happier, though, lately,” Joaquín goes on. “Both of you. So, you know. Good for you, yeah?”

Bucky choses that moment to resurface, wet chest glistening in the sun. Sam can’t help but stare, just for a moment, as Bucky stretches his arms over his head with a happy little sigh.

Next to him, Joaquín starts cackling.

Sam decides to push him in the lake.

He’s pretty sure Bucky will save him if there really are any alligators.

+1

Sam is picking up cups and paper plates around the yard as the party winds down, absently humming along to the music that’s still playing softly from inside the house. The sun has set a while ago, but it’s summer and still pleasantly warm outside, and the faint glow from the porch lights is just enough to see where he’s going.

It’s quiet and peaceful, and Sam smiles to himself as he ties off the trash bag.

Last year, on the 4th of July, he’d stood in front of hundreds of people, talking about Steve’s biggest achievements and sacrifices as if his loss hadn’t still been fresh for him, too. As if he hadn’t been grieving for a friend, instead of an international icon and hero.

This year is different, though. Today has been good. Very good.

Sam had, politely but firmly, denied to speak at any memorial services or ceremonies, had announced that he would be incommunicado for the week, and had packed up his shit to spend the holiday with his family in Louisiana.

His wings are stowed away, his phone is off, and he won’t have to talk to anyone from work for at least another few days.

Well. Almost no one.

Bucky’s just vanishing around the corner upstairs when Sam steps into the house, Cass in one arm and AJ in the other. They’re definitely getting too big to be carried around like this, something Sam’s back reminds him of whenever he does it these days, but something about seeing Bucky do it has Sam feel warm all over.

He can hear one of the boys murmur sleepily, and then Bucky say something that has both of them giggling tiredly.

Sam breathes out shakily.

It’s no wonder Sarah’s been making fun of him ever since he arrived with his unannounced guest in tow.

“Hey.”

When Sam glances up, Bucky’s standing on the stairs, only a few steps up, watching him with his head tilted curiously. “The boys want you to go say goodnight to them.”

Sam nods, absently licking his bottom lip. Bucky’s eyes track the movement.

“Buck,” Sam whispers, and when he holds out a hand, Bucky takes it without hesitation, letting himself be pulled close. “Can I—”

Bucky’s, “Yeah,” is pressed against Sam’s mouth, his lips soft and warm. Sam kisses back for a moment, before resting their foreheads together with a shuddering sigh.

“Wait up for me?”

Bucky nods, pecking him on the cheek. “Okay.”

He squeezes Sam’s hand, lingering, then lets go to join everyone else in the living room. He says something, too low for Sam to make out, but it makes Sarah laugh, loud and excited, and Bucky chuckle deeply in response.

Just a regular, normal holiday weekend with his family, Sam thinks as he moves up the stairs, absently touching his cheek.

All of his family.

[zodiyack]

Butterflies

Requested by anon: Hey love, if you’re up for writing some Kol Mikaelson then could you do one where it’s set before they’re vampires and Kol’s still a witch and fancies a village girl at the time. Just lots of innocent fluff between reader and Kol, and it being a really adorable relationship. Maybe they’re even promised to marry.

Pairing: Witch/Pre-Vampire!Kol Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, me not proof-reading

Words: 1,733

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I may’ve strayed from the request, I’m not sure, it feels like I did but I also just convince myself random things quite a lot- Anyways, I hope you guys like it and I hope, whomever requested this, that you got what you wanted (meaning I hope you like it 😅)! and, historical error, i have no idea when rings n stuff were a thing

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Y/n walked through the woodsy forest stealthily, reminding herself to not give into her urge to run as the branches already snapped under her feet. Sneaking out was the easy task; managing to stay out was a little more advanced. However, by now, Y/n was a pro. She snuck out almost every night.

As did Kol. Their parents approved a great deal of their relationship, but that didn’t prevent them from wanting to spend more time with one another. During the day, Y/n was usually busy helping Esther gather herbs and food or helping her mother in whatever chores she had. Kol was either helping around, practicing witchcraft, or doing whatever he wanted.

Most of the time, one would be doing work and the other would be watching from a distance, always with a smile on their face. If one got hurt, the other would be there within a second, by their side and asking if they needed anything. Hugs and kisses, other forms of PDA included, were exchanged whenever possible; a day where there wasn’t work, a small break, passing each other while heading to wherever they were going.

Villagers, both children and parents, spoke of the two in adoration. Couples and people who weren’t spoken for often expressed a slight envy mixed in with their thoughts of admiration for the two.

They were whispered about even as children. A girl, born unto a human family, and a boy, born unto a family mixed of witches and humans, always near each other. The people of the town would be lying if they claimed they weren’t rooting for the Kol and Y/n. Now becoming a man and a woman, and having expressed their feelings, the gossip of the two only grew.

But as soon as the sun said goodbye and the moon, with it’s twinkling children, said hello, they were together as much as they wanted. Even so, it wasn’t the kind of sneaking out one would expect from two love-struck village kids. The couple, innocent to the public, had nothing to hide.

“Y/n?” Kol whispered. She followed his voice until her form met a chest. It was warm, and the arms connected to the torso wrapped around her softly. “There you are.”

She pushed him slightly, giving herself enough room to pull his head into hers for a long-needed kiss. As their lips molded together, stress from the day left their bodies. Much to their displeasure, they had to separate in order to breathe. “What are we going to do tonight?”

Kol pulled away from her completely and turned to retrieve a torch he’d prepared. He returned with a wide smile upon his lips, now visible in the orange-yellow-mixture colored flames.

“You’ll see.” From there, he grabbed Y/n’s hand with his free one and started to lead her to a surprise location. The further they got, the more Y/n recognized the path. It was no surprise location at all. It was the little fort they’d set up many years before.

It’s wooden base and walls still held, tied together by enchanted twine and other building materials they could find in the nature around them. Back then, Y/n and all the Mikaelson children would play in it, but now, it was just her and Kol. It seemed like they were the only ones who even remembered it. But Kol didn’t have a problem with that; he rather liked having it to Y/n and himself.

“Sit,” He opened the door and gestured to one of the chairs, “you’re going to love this.”

“Am I?” Although Y/n’s question held the meaning of doubt, her laughter showed her genuine reaction.

“Eh... Okay...I hope you’ll love this..” Kol closed the door behind him and sat in the chair opposite to Y/n. He grabbed a small pouch and poured it’s contents into his hand. Y/n moved her head in an attempt to see what the bag had held, but Kol flashed her knowing grin. He shook his head and held his hand close to his chest until she moved back.

Slowly, he breathed in and out, focusing into what he was doing. His hand opened carefully. With a small smirk at Y/n, he wordlessly told her he was ready; the golden dust began to glow as it formed a butterfly and flew around Y/n, causing her to giggle.

It landed on her nose and flapped it’s wings softly. She stayed still, not wanting to scare the beautiful creature off despite it being magic rather than a real butterfly. She’d never seen one up close; so she relished in the moment with the faux version.

Whilst Y/n was distracted with his magic-trick, Kol dug through his bag as quietly, yet quickly, as he could. The frantic look on his face was replaced by a loving smile when he found the item he’d been searching for.

The butterfly made up of golden dust flew away from Y/n, still holding her in a trance; her eyes following it as it fluttered about. It crumbled back into dust and landed on the ring Kol held between his thumb and pointer finger.

“What is that?” She was stunned by both the magical creature and the ring it just helped create.

“It’s...a gift. From me to you...well...it’s not that simple.” Kol’s ring held a miniature version of the butterfly. “I want to ask you something.”

Y/n was truly entranced by the ring, but she still functioned nevertheless. Her head snapped up and her eyes doubled in size. “You’re kidding.”

A small chuckle escaped Kol, “No, my love, I am not.” His lips parted to speak once more, but a tackle knocked him off his chair and the words out of his throat. They both laughed loudly, thanking their past selves for asking the town witch for a silencing spell. The look she gave them all made them choke on their own laughter.

His arms wrapped around her torso and held her closer to him. The sound of her giggles and the feeling of her smile against the crook of his neck sent shivers down his back and multiple little golden butterflies to his stomach.

Though their laughter had ceased, their contact remained. Neither of them had separated from the other. They stayed there for a bit. It just felt right. Their intimacy felt right. The feeling of their hearts beating rapidly in their chest felt right. Their smiles felt right. Their refusal to part felt right. The entire night just felt right.

Eventually, they did end up parting, only it felt like hours had passed. Y/n stood up and pulled Kol up with her. He opened his hand and reached for her left one with his unoccupied hand.

“We’ve fancied each other for a while...” Kol studied her face, watching for any negative facial expressions. “Tonight, I brought you here to ask you the question that’s been on my mind nonstop, preventing me from doing any work aside from spells like that,” he referenced the butterfly, “and others I’ve made up for you.”

“You made that up?”

The youngest Mikaelson looked down shyly. “Yes.”

“It was beautiful!” Her exclamation was quiet and soft, but still all there.

“I’ve never been more distracted in my life. And as my mother had to be the one to point it out to me; I suppose if you say yes, I owe her a great deal of gratitude.” He scoffed through a failed attempt of preventing the corners of his mouth from lifting. “So. With this ring, gifted to me by my mother, and it’s magical components, which I’ll explain, I ask you, Y/n L/n, to...become a Mikaelson?”

Y/n nodded eagerly, allowing him time to slip the ring on her finger before surging forward and crashing their lips together. Her arms wrapped behind his head, one hand holding the nape of his neck, and his own holding her waist against his body firmly.

The butterflies in their stomachs that danced around happily had no effect on them now. They became good-feelings, feelings that let them know their love was still alive and thriving.

Y/n and Kol ended up cuddling to sleep, the night still innocent and pure as they discussed their future whilst laying on the sloppily-crafted-bed in the fort. The two agreed that one day, whenever it came, they’d marry and have children. Kol didn’t hesitate when it was his turn.

His tone expressed his excitement as he explained how he wanted to teach little witches how to use their magic and to clean after themselves to spare their mother the trouble.

Kol’s smile held as he finished his story of wishes, watching Y/n fidget with the band on her finger. “You want to know what the magic is for now?” She nodded. “So, the butterfly appears when I’m near. It’s spelled to sense me, as well as you.”

“Why me?”

He grew nervous, but continued, “Well...like we were discussing. If we were to have children, it would sense them too, and the butterfly would show.”

“Smart.” Y/n glanced at Kol. Though her responses were short, she made sure to reassure him in whatever ways she could. Spending years with him, Y/n learned to notice when he was hiding something; be it emotion or other things.

“Thank you, darling. I have to say, it was inspired by my fear of losing you.” He felt her head, which was lying on his shoulder, turn towards his and continued speaking out of embarrassment. “That’s a story for another day. The butterfly turns into a normal looking knot in the ring when I’m not near.”

She glanced at her ring and bit her lip. “I love it. But...I do have one question.”

“Yes?”

“How would you be able to know when I’m around?”

Kol chuckled and played with the necklace hidden under his tunic. It’s charm was a matching butterfly, no detail differing from her ring. “Already ahead of you, love.”

“And why the butterflies?”

He paused. “Well...uh...” Red flooded the witch’s face, his smile growing, “I thought it should be something important. And um... You, my dear, give me butterflies. Their happy little wings fluttering about in my stomach. How do you do it?” His smile showed his sarcasm, already having knowledge of the answer. He couldn’t even hide it. He could not hide it and he didn’t care, for it was the butterflies that would not let him.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Fourteen: The One With Her Brother

Warnings: Mention of childbirth

Word Count: 2644

The cool air around the waiting room shrouded a twelve-year-old blonde by the name of Lily Osborne. Wrapped in her cardigan-covered arms was a five-year-old Rose, the younger sister of the eldest Osborne. Just to the right of her sat two conservative grandparents, only moments away from learning if their third grandchild from their daughter would be a girl or boy. So far, the two had only been gifted with granddaughters, two from their other son William, and two from their daughter, Alicia, the mother of the two girls awaiting their newest sibling. Lily had already been through the grief of a new sibling with the little girl that sat in her arms, but it sadly didn't transfer over to the second blonde born from Alicia and Abel Osborne.

The small creek of a door just beside the many uncomfortable chairs stationed behind a small half wall and all four of the family member’s blonde heads popped up. Lo and behold though, it was merely a group of nurses seemingly leaving from their shift. Four collective sighs created harmony throughout the robin egg blue maternity wing waiting room. A heavier head leaned back onto her shoulder and Lily placed a gentle kiss on the bright blonde curls that sat atop of Rose's young head like a mop. Glancing down, Lily saw her little sister’s eyes flutter shut and she let out a gentle sigh, running her fingers up and down the child's thin arms. Just moments later, however, the doors opened once again and a panting Abel Osborne came shooting out with a bright smile plastered on his rugged features.

"Do you guys want to come to meet your new baby brother?"

-----

For as long as Lily could remember, being Cedar's older sister was one of her most sacred pride of joys. Or just being an older sister in general. Especially being so much older than the younger two. Her parents were amazing, sure, and they always did their best with raising the three children. But when it came down to more personal issues and handling things like bullying, friends, or middle school, Lily was their go-to. And she cherished that fact. It was like having her own child, but without a majority of the responsibilities, the mother faced. It helped scratch that maternal itch Lily had since a baby.

Whenever her parents weren't able to, Lily walked Rose and Cedar to school. She was even his emergency contact for high school after their parents, same with Rose. when Cedar began high school, Lily was in her last year of university before beginning med school and handling a one-year-old baby boy and an unhelpful husband, she travelled down to Long Island with Hunter, and joined Cedar for his orientation day when their parents were on a business trip. Everyone thought she was his mother, and the two made a bit of a joke out of it.

Just below a year before that, when Lily and Scott were scrambling together a wedding, it was Cedar who had helped her choose a wedding dress that made her feel beautiful, even while she was four months along in her pregnancy. She was tempted to try and convince Scott to elope, feeling as though she wouldn't find a dress that gave her that moment that made her face light up when she saw herself in the mirror. Luckily, Cedar helped her achieve it.

-----

She didn't want to go, really. It was the last place on earth that Lily wanted to be. Every morning when she looked in the mirror she felt huge. She thought her thighs were getting too big. That her cheeks were getting larger and she felt puffy. All because of the beautiful life growing inside of her. It wasn't her fault. She was four months along in the pregnancy she was handling at the age of 22, all while planning a fairly rushed and impromptu wedding to the father of her unborn child. Even though, if she would admit it to herself, she knew deep down this wouldn't work, and that he wasn't good for her. But she'd never say it out loud.

But today, well, today she just felt awful.

Today was the day that she would be picking a wedding dress. After a whole week of yelling at Lily, her fiancé, Scott, managed to get her to drop the idea of eloping, and instead, funnelling money into a wedding. On top of handling pregnancy and her last year of university. Lily had originally planned to handle this feat alone, feeling self-conscious about having anyone else there. But with her parents and brother now living in her basement, with her brother staying with them over the summer before he would go back to Long Island and stay with his grandparents until Lily gave birth, and their parents would move back home, well...her brother was the only one she couldn't get to stay at her home when she went out.

The boy had just turned 11 and was a pretty stereotypical pubescent boy. But with a much closer relationship with his sister than most kids with the age gap that the two had. Lily depended a great deal on her relationships with her siblings, for she never really talked or even spent time with girls or boys her age outside of school when she was younger. Of course, moving to New York City and over the past few years, she had expanded her bubble.

As the youngest and oldest Osborne sibling arrived at the quaint wedding dress shop in Soho, Lily wished to turn around and avoid any sort of questions about the growing bump that was prevalent on her stomach. Being at this store was the last place Lily wanted to be spending her Saturday afternoon. But alas, the tug of a boy’s hand on her sleeve persuaded the blonde to enter the shop alongside him.

After answering dreadful pregnancy questions from the shop owner, Lily had found the dress. But her hands cupped the growing belly of hers, and those green eyes grew sad as she looked in the mirror. The dress was a spaghetti strap, heart-shaped neckline, lace flower decals dancing across the organza type material, and sliding from her waist in an a-line style. it was loose, flowing, and hid any real evidence of a pregnancy. But Lily knew. She knew what was growing inside of her. What she would look like within two months when the wedding would be taking place. Her stomach even more swollen.

Cedar slowly stood from the couch and walked towards his older sister, taking her hand and looking up at her with the eyes that made Lily realize just how lucky she was. And with a shy nod towards the owner, Lily had found her dress. All thanks to the young blonde boy she called a brother. And those soft eyes.

-----

Ten years later, the two were still as close as ever. Or so she believed. He stood at her wedding party at her and Scott’s wedding when she was twenty-two. He was there when she gave birth to Hunter. God, she remembered the day she went into labour so vividly. And the boy who had informed her distracted parents, and who pushed through the labour alongside his sister, before the actual birth began. She remembered that day so vividly.

-----

Her hand gripped onto the pen she was using to take notes from her online lecture. Being the top student so far in her first year at Medical School had its perks. The professor's offered her online lectures and videos, while she handled the pregnancy. Her brother and parents had taken over the basement, as they came down from Long Island to take care of their daughter, who was very obviously in a neglectful marriage. The cool winds of November whispered secret thoughts to Lily, the window of her office allowing them in.

As Lily went to finish off a note about the fetus in a woman growing, her own decision to take a different approach. A popping deep within her set off a relay of gasps as water trickled down her leg, staining the loose dress she wore over top of her swollen stomach. her hand smacked itself across her lips as a small squeak escaped from her throat. A pair of footsteps ran themselves into the office, catching Lily's eyes as he spotted the water dripping down onto the floor.

"Mom! Dad! Start the car! Lily's water broke!" Cedar exclaimed, holding onto his sister’s hand. The same hand he'd be holding for the next few hours.

—————

Maybe it was the feelings of betrayal that hit Lily the hardest. Before her then sat one of the most important people in her life, handcuffed to a table, waiting to be interrogated by police officers for attempting to break into her ex-husband’s apartment where her child sat, scared to death of the somewhat familiar tone of voice. Or it may have been the disgust that churned deep within her stomach as she came to the realization this was not the same sweet and innocent boy she had last seen a mere few weeks ago when visiting her parents. A boisterous and somewhat playful smile far gone from his face that was now carved full of deep stress lines, with bruises evident on the thin skin below his eyes. This wasn't Cedar Osborne. This was a mere shell of him.

"Sir there must be some sort of mistake," Lily laughed softly, gesturing towards the glass, "That's my brother he would...he would never hurt my son or try to. He's a nice kid how would he—"

"Ms. Osborne, I know this is a shock but this is the man that was caught trying to break into your ex-husband’s apartment." The detective said in a calm tone, "He confessed to it. We just can't get any evidence as to why he may have done it out of him...which is why we called you."

Lily stared at the man in front of her. Her crossed arms dropped to her sides as a look of pure shock took over her previous exasperated and confused face. He wanted her to interrogate her own brother? Try and get him to confess information about a crime he tried to commit against her son. Why Lily wanted nothing more than to smack the living daylights out of the police officer. But then again nowadays she has had this happen often.

"You did not just ask me that!?" Lily exclaimed, "He is my brother, and I know my brother, officer. There has to be a mistake. There has to be! And until you figure out what that is I will not be questioning the same boy that sat by my side at my son’s birth when my husband wouldn't. He is not capable of this. My son is the most important thing to that man and you dare think that he would scare him?" Lily exclaimed, chest heaving.

The officer fell silent. The look in his eyes said it all: he knew this woman wouldn't be interrogating this man. With a curt nod, the police officer spread his arm to guide Lily from the room. Her shoulders moved up and down at a rapid pace as she stormed from the building, her heart racing inside of her chest and pounding in her ears so loudly she couldn't even hear the loud noises from the New York streets. Typically, Lily would wait for an opportunity to cross the sidewalk to her car, but today, she bulldozed through the group of people, fumbling for her keys. The moment the ignition turned on, the tears fell.

The tears ran down her face non-stop as she drove through the streets of New York. Sobs wracked her body as she continued to shake. Lily had no way of comprehending the fact that her own brother was the culprit arrested for attempting to break into her ex-husbands home. Sure it was known that the entire family had a distaste towards Scott Harvey, but the Osborne's were a far from violent family. Docile and subservient almost. It was only when Lily pulled into her driveway when a memory fell on her like a ton of bricks.

-----

'Here Comes Santa Clause' played over the speakers as the Osborne family bustled around the cozy home of Lily's parents’ home. Children played and adults laughed over wine as the previously mentioned woman and her brother slaved away in front of the stove as they prepared Christmas dinner. The two quietly chatted while working on their respective side dish, patiently waiting for the turkey in the oven to finish so they can begin to eat.

"Hey, how's work been going for you?" Lily hummed, working her arm as she continued to mash potatoes.

"Oh yeah," Cedar responded in a gentle tone, "I actually just left the company." he continued, failing to elaborate to Lily as to why on earth he would have left the job as an electrician at a power company that supplied most of Long Island's power.

"Really?" the eldest Osborne huffed, halting her movements and turning to her younger brother, "What happened to your dream of being an electrician?" she wondered, head tilting to the side a bit.

"Offered a different job, better pay," he stated abruptly, turning his back to Lily as he finished mashing the yams that he had been working on.

"I see...where are you now?"

"Dinner's ready!" Cedar yelled, ignoring his sister’s question and pulling the freshly finished turkey from the oven.

-----

Lily felt her heart sink as she recounted the events of the Christmas that had just passed close to a year ago. Her hand slapped itself over her mouth as she came to the realization that her sweet and innocent brother may have very well found himself in a sticky situation. Her mind ran to the worst place she could think of...what if he was working for a hitman agency? No that couldn't be right. HE may be sneaky but Cedar wouldn't be capable of murder.

Shaking her head, Lily pulled her hair back from her face and allowed her breathing to regulate itself once more. God, she felt like everything she knew to be normal was crumbling around her. Everything that she had become accustomed to was falling to pieces and there was nothing she could even do about it. If Cedar was getting invested in solicit and illegal activities, Lily knew she would be the last person he would admit it to. The two had a relationship based on kindness and loyalty...and it broke the blonde's heart, the idea of her baby brother falling into the traps of something horrible.

Stepping from the car, the cool and brisk air of the season chilled the raging heat the flared in Lily's face. Locking her car, the young mother unlocked her front door to hear music playing and the dog going wild. Furrowing her eyebrows and stepping out of her shoes, the blonde made her way down the hall towards the living room where the loud noises were coming from. When she rounded the corner, the sight made all of the pain and sorrow she was just wallowing in mere moments ago fade into distant memories.

Hunter was stationed on Bucky's back as they flailed around to an outdated Justin Bieber song that the blonde boy sang at the top of his lungs, igniting the howls of Joey. With a giggle, Lily dropped her coat and bag and made her way towards the pair, joining in on the singing and dancing. For once, Lily allowed herself to step away from the burden of anxiety and enjoy the moment in front of her.

Her eyes locked with Bucky and she knew, that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

[jade-masquerade]

Jonsa Halloween Day 2: singing to the stranger, begging for his kiss (colors)

Written for @jonsa-halloween Day 2: Colors

The hall was awash with color, and from her vantage point at the back, Sansa could see it all.  

 The flicker of flames from the candles fashioned by House Waxley illuminated on the stone walls, autumn scents of rich nutmeg and cinnamon-roasted apple and mulled spice floating on the air. Pumpkins, the largest of all those grown in Westeros she’d heard, adorned the tables, flanked by squashes and gourds for the smallfolk to take home after they’d done their decorative duties. Strings of sewn leaves that matched the colors of those outside stretched from sconce to sconce,

 And in between, the crowds themselves were a vibrant departure from the plain dark cloaks and furs of grey and black. Whereas usually house sigils provided the only bits of color in a sea of monotony, now there was nary a sigil in sight, unless one counted Ser Hubert Hersy wearing outrageously oversized white wings and holding a chalice in hand or Ser Uther Shett dressed as a seagull.  

 The costumes of many women were even more elaborate. The likenesses of Shiera Seastar, Princess Nymeria, and Sharra the Witch Queen filled the hall, interspersed among horned unicorns and mermaids and wood nymphs. Girls of all ages wore the floating fabrics of Lady Alyssa Arryn, tears of shimmering blue and silver painting their cheeks, even while they were all smiles. Sansa would have once envied them their extravagant appearances, spending years coveting the bright yellow and blue of one of the branches of House Flint and the pretty violet lilies of House Fenn, bored by the dull white and grey of House Stark.  

 She smoothed over the dress she wore now, all dyed grey, a simple bodice that fit her snuggly and a skirt of wool flaring outward from the waist. Alayne would have looked down at such a drab shade, and truth be told, Sansa would have too, but that was the color of freedom now, of anonymity. With her darkened hair and her unadorned silver mask, she thought even she herself would be hard pressed to recognize herself in such a guise.  

The most flamboyant costumes of those up on the dais caught her eye—huge hoop skirts, towering hats, and embellished cloaks made of velvet and satin and exotic furs. Across the hall, seated among them, Alyssa Stone dazzled in Alayne’s silk dress of mockingbird gold and her ornate mask imported from Braavos. They looked similar enough, and in the darkness with the ale flowing freely, Sansa knew anyone would be hard pressed to tell the difference, yet she still worried the deception would be discovered.

 “I would die to be a lord’s daughter, even just for a night,” Alyssa sighed weeks ago as they sat sewing the garlands of leaves after Sweetrobin’s host of Winged Knights had exited the room with the little lord, each taking a bow before Alayne as they did so. 

“Littlefinger isn’t a lord here, not truly,” Sansa had said, sharper than she should have. “He’s only regent for Sweerobin.”

 “Close enough!” Alyssa said. The handmaid snatched Alayne’s mask from her wardrobe, which Littlefinger had gifted her with earlier that morning, and held it up to her face. “It was your suggestion for the feast to be a masquerade, after all…”

 It had not taken much more convincing than that, the mere inkling of an idea, and so when they’d dressed earlier this evening, Sansa had let down her hair in simple curls and Alyssa pinned hers up in elaborate twists anchored by a golden comb inset with glittering black diamonds, and when they’d emerged from her chambers, no one had been the wiser.  

 Once Sansa had dreamed of harvest feasts and masked balls, and while she still did revel in the magic of it all, in those dreams she had danced, she had fluttered her lashes at the knights who drew here interest, and she had shared sweet kisses with them. She had never imagined she would instead be trapped beneath the watchful eye of a man who called her daughter yet wanted her for himself or be pestered by an intended suitor who saw her as merely a conquest, with whom there would be no love, only desire until his interest waned. In those dreams, she had been among her true family, and in the comforts of her home, and she had always been Sansa, never Alayne.

And so for tonight she decided to call herself Jeyne, a common enough name not likely to arouse any suspicions, the name of her closest friend from Winterfell whose memory still pulled at her heart. Sansa vowed she would find her someday, once she escaped this place. Jeyne had shared those same dreams with her, and Sansa remembered the faces she’d pull whenever her friend sighed over Robb, how they had tittered together over Lord Beric Dondarrion, and how Jeyne had once squealed when Sansa admitted she wondered how Ser Waymar Royce most liked to be kissed, earning a sharp glare from Septa Mordane.

 Now, though, those intentions seemed positively innocent. Sansa would be lying if she said she had not thought of far more than gentle kisses nowadays and if she denied being curious about the things Myranda spoke of. She craved the brief, easy whirlwinds of romance the older girl and her handmaids shared in hushed whispers, to merely experience what exhilarations of youth had been stolen from her when they took her father’s head and Cersei’s demands turned her captive. She wanted a single night where she did not have to play this game, a moment where she felt liberated, no longer the little bird kept in a cage. She knew it was silly, maybe stupid even, but she could not help but hope for a kiss and perhaps more with a man she found dashing, a man who cared little or not at all if she bore a bastard name, a man who wouldn’t laugh at her blushing the way Harry sometimes did when she pushed away his insistent hands or turned her cheek to him.  

 The feast cleared quickly despite the many rounds, and soon the musicians struck up “Fair Maids of Summer” in celebration of the true end of the season. Sansa watched a couple dressed as Jonquil and Florian take the floor, another garbed as Lady Shella and her Rainbow Knight soon following. Alyssa danced with Ser Harrold, and the fact that it seemed he couldn’t tell the difference only confirmed what a dolt he truly was. They would giggle about this later, Sansa knew; Alyssa had become a true friend in the time they spent together, as true a friend as Alayne could have anyway.

 Sansa herself set her sights on the handsome knights and men-at-arms seated at the long tables on the floor and below the salt. Some she recognized from the tournament where Sweetrobin had crowned his Winged Knights, but Harry had filled her sights then, and most of them wouldn’t have dared to look askance at the daughter of Lord Baelish or cross Ser Harrold by intruding on his betrothed. She was no longer confined though; now she was free to choose, and she eagerly drank them in.

 The seven sons of House Sunderland all equally striking, even dressed as the seven drunken oarsmen. She admired Ser Cadwyn Egen and his riot of blonde curls, Ser Osbert Woodhull and his sweet smile, and how Ser Robbett Ruthermont so tall she would have had to crane her neck to glimpse his face if he held her in his arms. And then there were some things about them she liked for no reason at all it seemed: the way Ser Symon Crayne wore the collar of his shirt open to expose his chest, how Ser Landon Hunter looked exceptionally good in his tight huntsman breeches, what it would sound like for Jace Stone, a bastard son from one of the Templeton branches, to whisper in her ear with his deep voice.  

 She avoided Ser Morgarth and Ser Byron as she made her rounds. Ser Byron was good looking enough, but Sansa didn’t trust him more than her arm could reach, and the risk of recognition there would be too great anyhow. There were plenty of others, who came from lands afar and would return there after this night, and it did not take long until she was swept into the throng by Walder Upcliff.

 He wore a high-necked cloak and a white mask, and she could smell ale already on his breath. She tried to engage him in cordial conversation, but Walder seemed far more interested in glancing down her dress than meeting her eye. With his leering smile and the way his hands dug into her hips to hold her closer than she would have liked, Sansa was grateful when the song changed, and he evidently lost interest in the slow, mournful rhythm of “Fallen Leaves.”

 She participated in dancing the steps of the next few songs, a reel and a quick number where she spun from one partner to another, laughing breathlessly.    

 “Ser Andar,” she said, looking up at the knight with whom she’d had the fortune to finish the previous song. Ser Andar was every bit the picture of gallantry and comeliness, with his wavy golden hair, broad chest, and hands that spanned her waist. “It’s so lovely to see you this evening.”

 He frowned. “Beg pardon, have we met?”

 “Oh, I’m Lady Elesham’s handmaid. Jeyne,” she said, catching herself. “I admired your performance in the tournament of the Winged Knights. It’s a shame Lord Arryn did not choose you for his guard. I can think of no one more deserving.”

 He did smile at that. No matter how stoic he was, it seemed he enjoyed flattery as much as anyone else.  

 “You’re so strong,” she said, running her hands along the muscles in his arms.

 “It’s only sword work,” he said. “It requires none of the great effort needed to tend your lady, I imagine.”

 She giggled, reaching up to touch her hair. She found herself not minding so much if Ser Andar found it fit to study the bosom of her dress, and she found herself very much wantonly wishing to draw his attention to the curves of her body there.

 His attention seemed elsewhere though, either that or he possessed a remarkable streak of honor that no other man could manage to compete with, for he steadfastedly maintained his gaze on some point over her shoulder.  

 “Excuse me,” he said as the last chords of “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” faded, and he disappeared in the direction of one of Sweetrobin’s Winged Knights.  

 It was no matter, though. Sansa turned, and she whirled right into the arms of another.  

[sundimus]

Request for Fado! 21. “This. This makes it all worth it.” / Lacenet or siblings. (Went with Lacenet for this one!) /// Hallownest has not had a festival in a long time.

Back then, the festivities of the kingdom were the most anticipated events that the common bug would spend days and weeks and months looking forward to. A time where friends and family would all celebrate and feast together - a time of bonding and enjoying the joys that life has to offer. Hornet remembers growing up with the celebrations. While Deepnest had it’s own cultural celebrations, she had always been involved in the kingdom’s festivities as well. She remembers the excitement and the joy of it all - the lights and music and food that brought every comfort and feelings of camaraderie. The Pale King had even allowed Pure Vessel to carry Hornet around so she could participate in the activities herself, ever her steady babysitter. Hornet thinks back fondly at the memory of her forcing her sibling to take her everywhere she could possibly go - very demanding in a child-like way. Hollow had never complained back then. Of course, they wouldn’t have even if they wanted to, but Hornet can only hope that they had just as much fun back then as she did; even if they had tried to not feel it. It was during those times that she had felt closest to them, after all. But then the Infection happened, and all causes for celebration had been halted indefinitely. Enough time had passed and enough people had died to where most of the meanings behind the festivals had become lost. Hornet had been too young to remember them herself, but she figures that either Hollow or Lemm might know some meanings if she were to ask. However, time does heal wounds eventually. Elderbug had mentioned how he missed the annual Flower Festival - a time where, back when Dirtmouth still grew flowers and plants before the stasis, everyone would come together to eat and dance and converse with each other. He missed the sense of community and trust. Having loved the concept, Ghost and Ghoul had the idea to throw another flower festival again, despite flowers no longer being able to grow in Dirtmouth. But her siblings are stubborn, and had immediately traveled together to Greenpath to not only pick the flowers they can find there, but to also get Sheo’s help in crafting paper flowers to use as decorations. She sits on the ground in front of their shared house, waiting patiently for them to come home. “Are you excited, darling spider?” A soft sing-song voice sounds next to her, and an even warmer presence settles down beside her. “For tomorrow?” She looks at her girlfriend, who gives her a smile in return. “You mean for decorating this bleak and dull wasteland with flowers? I can’t wait.” She hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic - a part of her is genuinely enjoying the thought of participating in another celebration together with her family. Lace laughs softly at her comment. “Well this “bleak and dull wasteland” is your home now, so -” “Our.” “Hm?” “This isn’t just my home. You live here now, too. This is our home.” Hornet reaches over to grab one of Lace’s hands. “Me and you. Always.” “Oh... right,” Lace blushes, but squeezes her hand tighter, moving a little closer so their shoulders touch. “Always.” Any other words vanish for the moment, the serene quietness of the town and the brisk coolness of the air covering both of them comfortingly in the night. Neither of them say anything, each lost in their own thoughts. Hornet’s mind drifts to her mother, and how she might react to her throwing another festival so early after the death of a kingdom. She wonders if Herrah would approve and if she might have even wanted to help decorate the place as well. Maybe she’d even want to indulge in the activities herself. She wonders what it would be like to dance with Herrah properly for the first time. She knows she shouldn’t dwell on possibilities that have no chance of ever coming true, but she can’t help it. She wants to dance with her mother. “I’ve never been to a festival before,” Lace speaks up first, her voice cutting through the silence. “Pharloom doesn’t have festivals?” Hornet asks, a bit surprised. She figured that Lace’s vibrant and out-going personality would be naturally attracted to something like parties. “There is, but...” Lace shrugs. “I wasn’t allowed to go to any of them.” “Ah. My apologies, then.” “Don’t feel sorry for me. It was just one of those things, you know? But that’s alright - tomorrow means that I get to spend my first ever celebration with you. Seems worth it to me.” Hornet feels heat rush to her face, but squeezes her hand. “Yes. That makes it more special, I suppose.” “The party will be fun. I’m sure of it. Everyone laughing and having fun and being alive, despite everything that has happened. That all counts for something, right?” Hornet agrees. “It might make everything be worth it in the end.” -.x.-.x.-.x.- The “festival” itself had been put together fairly decently. The fake flowers that her siblings had made with Sheo were strung between the houses, a bunch of different bright colors almost lighting up the area. The real flowers they had picked had been woven onto handmade bracelets that everyone had been given to wear, should they choose. There definitely wasn’t as many people around that Hornet had been used to seeing at the Palace festivals, but a lot more had appeared than what she had been expecting. Of course Elderbug, Bretta, Cornifer, and Iselda were all present, along with Cloth, Myla, Tiso, and Quirrel. Ghost had brought Umbra to the party as well, and Hornet could see their bright wings flutter around the area excitedly. The Grimm troupe members are also celebrating with them. “How rude we would be should we ignore such a joyous occasion,” Grimm had said. Hornet suspects that Hollow is somewhere with him at the moment. Their presence is considerably welcomed - Brumm’s music seems to be echoing around the area, providing a great atmosphere for everyone involved. Hornet can see Ghoul and Elderbug dancing to the sound, although Elderbug’s “dancing” seems to be him just rocking back and forth slowly. Even though he likes to complain about too many people in Dirtmouth - specifically about the Troupe in general - Hornet has never seen him look happier. She’s not surprised that Ghost had managed to make so many friends and allies. Her smallest sibling certainly had an aura about them that was very gravitational. She feels arms wrap around her and instinctively tenses, ready to draw her needle, but the all-too-familiar laughter she hears from the “attacker” stops her. She turns around to see Lace’s gleeful face, and she relaxes instantaneously. “Nice to see you too, Lace.” “And it is always a pleasure to see you, spiderling,” she replies, moving her arms to wrap around Hornet’s neck. Hornet rests her hands on Lace’s waist, and they start moving their feet in a simple, slow, one-two dance. They don’t focus on anything else around them, their eyes solely locked onto each other. In the distance, Hornet thinks she can hear Ghost shrieking, but everything seems to drown out as she gets more and more lost in Lace’s warmth. She moves forward and rests her head on the other girl’s shoulder, engulfing her in a hug just to hold her. “Is the festival worth it now?” Lace laughs. “Yes,” Hornet replies softly, closing her eyes. Her voice holds a gentleness that she is not accustomed to just yet. “This makes it all worth it. I love you.” She feels Lace stiffen, and she pulls back slightly to look at her, suddenly worried that she had gone too far or had admitted her feelings too strongly. To her surprise, and somewhat relief, Lace doesn’t look upset. Instead, she looks shocked, and, if Hornet had to guess, hopeful. “Did you mean that?” Lace asks, her voice holding an excitement so prominent that it almost sounds breathless. “Yes - yes I did,” Hornet responds, now feeling a bit embarrassed. She has never said “I love you” to anyone other than her family before - she remembers learning the meaning as a little girl and shouting it to her mother and Hollow whenever she saw them, but that was so long ago. This is the first time she’s told someone who she was genuinely in love with that she loved them. Lace is the first person she has ever truly fallen in love with. That fact both excites and terrifies her. Lace visibly brightens even more, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Oh, Hornet! That makes me so happy to hear! I love you too; of course I do!” She feels a surge of courage at Lace’s response, and she blurts out her thoughts before she can stop herself. “May I kiss you?” Lace’s smile turns softer, and she lays a hand on Hornet’s cheek. “Yes,” she whispers. “Always.” They kiss surrounded by laughter and music and countless stars.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Halloween au

Instinct

(yandere Incubi Bruno Bucciallati X Female Reader)

warning... mentions of Satanism

A cold breeze blew as you watched the first rays of sunlight touch the land from your porch, a warm drink helping you warm up. You never really got up this early but you wanted to see who your new neighbour was. Who knows it could be a good plot idea for a novel, it would stray a little different to your typical writing choice of a mystery novel but you just never know.

For a moment you had a strange scene play out in your head. A woman that you knew was your mother flailing against two men that held her away from you. She yelled incoherent statements as they grabbed a knife out of her hand. Your father picked you up, cradling you in his arms as he yelled at her.

You shook yourself out of your trance. You liked to believe that it was just a morbid imagination but it very well could have been an early memory. You had no memories of your mother, most of them had probably been locked away by after so many years of therapy but you had learnt a few unsavoury things over the years about her over time like her connections with witchcraft and satanism. You had no reason to worry about her since she was killed in an asylum riot a few years back.

You were just about to give up and hop back into bed until a car pulled up in front of the house and the door opened. You felt you heart flutter as you saw the beautiful male step out. With hair that was darker then any black you had seen before, eyes that were like the clearest ocean and sunkissed skin. You couldn't help but admire this man, it was like he had been sculpted by the gods' and been sent down to grace your eyes. You were absolutely speechless.

"Bon giorno Senorita, your up very early!" He greeted you with a smile on his face.

"And good morning to you to sir" you said as you set your drink down and walk to him.

"My name is (Y/n) (L/n)" you said as you held out your hand.

"Well mine is Bruno Bucciallati, it's a pleasure to meet you" he replied as he shook your hand.

"Do you need any help with unpacking?" You asked him.

"I've already had most of of the furniture has been brought inside already but I wouldn't mind a little help with a few pieces before the last bits of furniture are dropped of" he responded with a small smile before strutting to his door and unlocking it with you not far behind.

🎃🎃🎃

You had never been inside the house so it had been surprise to see how amazing the interior. It had a fifties layout but it was brought into the present with its modern appliances and somewhat daring wallpaper and paint choices of black, white and gold.

Throughout the day you helped Bruno unpack boxes of little things like tableware and small appliances.

"So where do you want this?" You asked Bruno as you picked up a vase.

"Over there" he said while point to the mantle piece above the fire place.

"So what made you decide to move here of all places?" You asked the ravenette.

"I just wanted to move to somewhere that was quiet" he replied.

"Well you chose the right place, I'm sure you'll have no trouble here" you said in a sweet tone as you placed the vase on the mantle piece. You looked at the clock and realised the time.

"Oh wow it's already eight pm! I should get home now, well it was a pleasure to help you out today" you said as you rushed to the door.

"Good bye then (Y/n), I really enjoyed your company" he said as gave you a bright smile that seemed to make your heart race.

"Same" you responded before leaving.

Bruno sighed as he slumped down into his loveseat. He flicked a few strands of his ebony hair before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side, allowing a pair of bat like wings to stretch out, his eyes changed from a saphire blue to a bright gold, a tail began to swing from side to side and a pair of goat like horns formed on his forehead. This was his true form, he was an incubus. A Demonic creature thats whole existence revolved around deflowering young virgin women.

He could smell your pureness, it was stronger then when he first met you. It threw him into a ecstasy driven high, it was like a drug to him. It made his mind wonder, he could almost feel himself touching your soft skin. However something inside of him told him no, some part of him wanted you to stay the very same.

"After all these years" he sighed as a rosy hue dusted his cheeks.

🎃🎃🎃

You knocked on Bruno's door with one hand while holding a tray of scones. As the door opened a smile appeared on Bruno's face.

"You sure have a lot of time to spare, don't you?" He commented as he let you in.

"A lot of people in this town do" you replied as you walked into his house and placed the scones on the table.

"This house is getting better by the day" you said as you had a good look around the room before walking to the vintage sofa and sitting down.

"And I have you to thank for that, a woman's touch always make house feel like home" he replied.

"I think everything will be unpacked in maybe another three days" he continued.

"So which room are we doing today?" You asked.

"The bedroom" he replied in sultry tone that made you almost melt, wait why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? You had only known this man for a week yet your legs seemed to turn to jelly whenever your skin touched his or when he was close.

It wasn't like you had any romantic interest in him, thou you did have to admit he was extremely attractive, what you felt was like someone controlled you, it was almost instinctive.

"What's wrong (Y/n)?" He asked with concern in his voice as he placed his hands on your shoulders, causing you to shiver under his grasp.

"I... I want to be honest" you began.

"Go ahead"

"I've been having these strange feelings around you... It's like something is pulling me towards you, it wants me too..." You continued.

"Oh god I can't believe I'm going to say this..." You sighed.

"You don't have to say a thing, I completely understand" he said.

"Really?"

"Yes, it's only instinctive that a woman is attracted towards a man that they think will protect them" he explained as he wrapped his arms around you, his hot breath tickling your neck. You were just about to ask him what he was going on about before he cut you off.

"And I promise you I will protect you this time" he said as he kissed your cheek.

"What?" You gasped as you pushed him away and looked at him, his saphire blue eyes now a deep, ominous, glowing gold.

"Do you not remember me?" He asked as as he slowly approached you with his arms spread wide in an affectionate manner.

"N... No" you stuttered as you felt your back hit the wall.

You squeezed your eyes shut in fear. Suddenly the wall seemed to disappear and you fell back only to be caught by a strong pair of arms. You looked to see that Bruno had caught you and that you were now in your attic. He put you back on your feet before search the though all the packed boxes, muttering inaudible words under his breath until he found a little chest, one which you had never seen before. He opened the chest and showed it's contents, you didn't know what it was but it looked like a flower made out of glowing glass. It had been a present you had been given by the same man on your ninth birthday.

"You surely couldn't have forgotten this?" He asked as a pair of horns protrude from his forehead and his tail swung in anticipation. Then it finally hit you.

"You... You were my mother's friend" you shuttered.

"I wouldn't say that... She was the worst woman I had ever met, even to my standards and I'm a demon" he explained. You really had no words to say, this conversation was some you had never imagined you'd have.

"She was going to sacrifice you, her own daughter..." He continued.

At this point your mind was flooding with memories that you had sealed away for so long and this demon had appeared in so many.

"My mother's dead so what do you want from me?" You asked as backed away from him once more.

"I told you, I want to protect you and now because she's dead I don't have to worry about her commands" he explained.

"But why me?" You asked.

"I love you, since I first saw you in that wenches arms as a newborn I knew that I needed you" he said before disappearing, only to reappear behind you and pull you by the waist until your chest was pressed against his.

"That's disgusting" you hissed.

"It only sounds disgusting because of the circumstances" he replied.

"I will not have a relationship with you!" You yelled.

"I'm afraid your body will go against what you say, us Incubi have our ways of getting inside a woman's head... But I'm sure you already know what I'm talking about" he said as he pressed his lips against yours. You tried to move you face but he had already placed his free hand on the back of your head, forcing your head still.

After a minute or so he finally pulled back and spoke.

"The sooner you come to accept my feeling the easier everything will get"

[ask-the-apocalypse-kids]

Feathers

Summary: It's Clementine’s fifteenth birthday. It's time for her wings to finally grow in, only problem, she has to deal with five long days of searing back pain. Thankfully, her boyfriend and girlfriend, Louis and Violet, are there to help her.

Au: Modern, wings

Warnings: Blood, body horror

Clem thought she would be ready for the big day. Her fifteenth birthday. The day her wings would start growing. But when she woke at three in the morning with unbearable back pain, she knew she wasn't ready.

The day before, Clem was excited to get her wings. She wouldn't stop talking about it with her mom and dad, Carley and Lee. They would just smile and say how proud they were of her. Going to bed that night, the only thing on her mind was getting her wings. She fell asleep with an excited grin.

The peace didn't last. At three o'clock in the morning, Clem woke up to an intense, sharp pain in her back. A scream of pain left her lips, waking her parents. In moments flat, they came running into the room, Lee with a bat in hand. The moment they saw Clementine curled up on the bed, tears streaming down her face, they understood.

“I-It h-hurts.” She cried. Carley went to her bed and looked at her back. Just what she thought. The skin around her shoulder blades were being stretched out and ripping in some places. “The process is starting.” She told her husband. “I'll get the pillows and blankets.” Lee said, walking out of the room. “Okay sweetie, we're gonna help you build a nest.” Carley explained. “N-nest?” Clem whimpered. “It's gonna help you through your process.” Her mother explained.

Lee soon came back with nearly every pillow and blanket in the house. Carley carefully picked Clem up from her bed while Lee set the pillows and blankets up in a circular fashion. Once he was done, Clem's bed had been turned into a small nest like cocoon. Carley carefully placed Clem into the nest before crawling in with her. Lee soon followed. Clem curled up to her parents, the searing pain in her back making her whimper.

The night was long and painful. Sleep didn't come easy. Clem spent nearly an hour and a half crying loudly due to the extreme pain. All her parents could do was quietly comfort her and hold her tight. By the time the sun finally rose, Clem was finally asleep. Carley carefully crawled out of the nest, she needed to make a phone call. Clem whimpered in her sleep and clung to her dad.

Carley pulled out her phone and called Clem's boyfriend and girlfriend’s parents, seeing if they could stay over for the week. Thankfully their parents agreed. About an hour passed before they showed up.

Waving goodbye to his parents, Louis walked into Clem's house with Violet by his side. “Hi Mrs. Everett.” Violet said as they walked inside. “Where's Clem?” Louis asked as he took off his shoes. “She's upstairs in her room.” Carley said quietly. They both nodded and walked upstairs.

As they climbed the stairs, they could hear Clementine’s quiet cries. It broke their hearts hearing her in such pain. They walked down the hall, approaching Clem's door. The crying was louder now and more heartbreaking. Louis looked over at Violet before knocking on the door. Three simple knocks.

“Come in.” A deep voice called. Violet opened the door slowly. The room was dark, lit only by the hallway light and the soft glow of fairy lights that hung over Clem’s bed. Entering the room, they saw that Clem was curled up to her father in the nest on her bed. She looked so small and frail. She was shaking and crying quietly. Louis and Violet felt their hearts shatter.

Lee looked up at them. “Thank god you two are here.” He sighed. “She needs you two.” He told them. Louis and Violet both nodded. Lee slowly moved from the nest, giving the two the space. Louis crawled in first, laying behind Clem. She whimpered a bit before snuggling up to him. Louis wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Violet crawled in next. She curled up in front of Clem, wrapping her arms around her middle. Lee left them alone.

“Hey darlin.” Louis hummed, taking a hold of Clem’s hand. “How are you feeling, peaches?” Violet asked her. “H-h-hurts.” Clem choked out. “I know darlin. It's gonna hurt for a while.” Louis told her. “It's just five days, Clem.” Violet added. Clem slowly nodded, her eyes stinging from crying.

Another wave of pain overtook Clem and she let out a shrill wail. Louis and Violet sprung into action, holding Clem close and whispering comforting words to her. Her quiet sobs were heartbreaking. Louis looked at her sadly before an idea came to him. “Darlin, can you lay on your stomach for me?” He whispered to her. Clem sniffled and nodded, turning to lay on her stomach.

Sitting up, Louis pushed Clem’s shirt up with his hand. With gentle fingers, Louis massaged her aching back. Clem closed her eyes tight at the pain before suddenly relaxing underneath Louis's comforting touch. She could still feel the pain, but the nice feeling of Louis’s warm hands on her aching back was enough of a distraction.

Violet scooted closer to Clem, placing a small kiss on her cheek. Reaching down, she slowly and softly ran her fingernails up and down her back, lightly scratching. Clem finally felt a little bit relaxed after hours of nonstop pain and crying. Her eyes fluttered close and she drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

...

Clem slowly woke up between Violet and Louis. She yawned quietly and nuzzled her face into Louis’s neck. “Morning sleeping beauty.” Louis hummed, a smile on his lips. “Morning.” Clem mumbled, her eyes half closed. “Sleep well?” He asked her. Clem nodded tiredly. “Well you should probably stay awake, Clemster. You've been asleep all day yesterday and all through the night.” He told her. “I have?” Clem looked up at him. “Yep.” He nodded.

“Five more minutes couldn't hurt.” she said, resting her head on his chest. “Hey, no. You're gonna get up and eat some breakfast.” Louis told her. “I don't wanna.” She whined. Louis sat up, pulling her up with him. “Well you're gonna have to.” He said. “Says the person who sleeps in till noon nearly every day.” Clem sassed. “Was that sass? Are you sassing me, little miss?” Louis said, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“You're damn right it was.” Clem smirked. “Ohoho you are in trouble now.” Louis chuckled, pushing Clem back against the bed. “You should know I hate sass.” He explained, sneakily placing his hand on her side. Clem's eyes widened when she realized what he was going to do. “Louis, don't you dare.” She warned. It was already too late.

Louis started lightly tickling Clem’s sides. Sweet giggles bubbled out of her lips. “Louis!” She laughed. “Yes, clemster?” He smirked. “Stop!” She squealed and squirmed around in his grip. “I don't know, should I?” He teased her. “Please!” Louis couldn't help but laugh himself at how adorable she was. He stopped tickling her and kissed her nose. “You're adorable, darlin.” He smiled, hugging her. “You're a jerk.” Clem huffed, hiding her face in his chest. “I love you too.” Louis said.

Clem perked up when she heard the door open. Looking over, she saw Violet walk through the door. “Morning, peaches.” She smiled, closing the door. “Morning, bunny.” Clem called over to her. Violet walked up to the bed, three bowls in her arms. “Fresh made oatmeal, you're favorite.” Violet said, handing a bowl to Clem. “Thanks.” She smiled, taking the bowl. Violet nodded and handed the other bowl to Louis.

“How are you feeling?” She asked Clem. “Still very sore.” She mumbled, eating her food. Violet nodded. After finishing her food, Clem put her bowl on the bedside table. Louis and Violet soon followed. The room was filled with silence. Clem soon broke the silence. “Guys?” She said quietly. “Yes, darlin?” Louis hummed. “Can I have a wing blanket?” She asked, her voice quiet as another wave of pain slowly started.

Louis and Violet both nodded with warm smiles. Louis stretched out his large wings from under his shirt. Laying on his stomach, he rested his wing over her. Clem smiled softly, running her hand over the dark brown and white speckled feathers. Violet crawled onto the bed, stretching out her black and white wings and laying one of her wings ontop of Clem.

Clem let out a soft sigh. This was a regular thing they did when they cuddled. Whenever Clem would have a nightmare, Lou and Vi would just rest their wings on top of her and she would be calmed in minutes. Clem loved wing blankets. It made her feel safe, knowing that her boyfriend and girlfriend were close by. Letting out a small yawn, she looked up at them. “I love you guys.” She whispered before drifting off to sleep.

-four days later-

Clem woke up the final morning in extreme pain. Her eyes flew open and she let out a strangled gasp. Sitting up, she bit down on her tounge to keep herself from screaming. Reaching over, she shook Louis and Violet awake. The two sat up immediately, looking at Clem. “What's wrong?” Violet asked her. Clem tried to speak but a yelp left her lips. “It's time.” Louis whispered.

Tears filled Clem’s eyes as she laid back. “Go get some towels, I'll help her get ready.” Violet told Louis. He nodded and left the room. “Peaches, I'm gonna need you to lay down on your stomach.” Violet told her. Clem looked up at her girlfriend with tears in her eyes. “Please do this for me.” Violet whispered. Slowly, Clem nodded and turned over, burying her face in the pillow.

Violet pushed Clem's shirt up, exposing her entire back. Violet could see the two large wings moving around under Clem's thin skin. They were ready to come out.

Louis came back with an arm full of towels and crawled onto the bed. Violet took some of the towels and placed them around Clem. This was gonna be messy.

Several hours had passed by. Clem was in absolute agony. Louis and Violet were doing everything they could to try and comfort her. But thankfully the final hour was upon them.

“We're almost there, darlin. Just hold on a bit more.” Louis told Clem. She weakly nodded, trying to keep her breathing even. Violet was keeping an eye on her wings. Clem's skin was paper thin, ready to break at any moment. With a towel in her arms, Violet was ready to catch any blood that goes flying.

“This is it!” Violet said as Clem's wings started to move rapidly. Louis held Clem's hand, wincing at how strong her grip was. The seconds seemed like hours to Clem as the pain increased in intensity. It kept building and building and building until…

There was a loud crack a splash of blood. The pain ceased and Clem collapsed into the pillows, feeling the warm blood run down her sides. Violet had caught most of the blood on the towel. Moving the towel down, she saw Clem’s wings. They laid on top of Clem, twitching slightly before they were stretched out.

Clem slowly sat up, looking at Louis and Violet. “You did a wonderful job, darlin.” Louis smiled. Clem looked back at her wings. They were light brown with white and grey specks, similar to that of a barn owl. Blood was glistening off the large feathers. They were beautiful.

“Bet it was worth all the pain?” Violet asked with a small smile. “Totally worth it.” Clem smiled. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” Louis said, helping Clem off the bed. Louis took her to the bathroom where he washed the blood off her wings. After her bath, Clem played around with her wings. Moving them and flapping them. Clem knew she had a while to go before she could learn how to fly. But with Violet and Louis by her side, it will be worth the wait.

A\N: There will be a part two to this coming soon.

[melodyofmuses]

@awreckageofstarss

Hiccup woke up feeling warm and content in a way he’d never felt before, and yet strangely numb. His left arm was completely numb and yet he was too comfortable to even think about shifting. A slight movement in the bed made Hiccup’s eyes snap open, gaze instantly falling to the woman in his arms. It wasn’t a dream, he had slept with Astrid in his arms all night after he inked a dragon onto her back. A lazy grin slipped onto his face, loving the way her golden locks had fallen out of her braid to spread out over his chest.

The inventor lay there for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of holding the girl he loves in his arms. Eventually Toothless decided he’d lain in bed long enough, trudging over to nudge his rider. “All right Bud, just gimme a minute, okay?” Green eyes watched the dragon take a step back, sitting expectantly at the end of the bed.

Toothless had been up since before the grey dawn had broken, green eyes fixed on the humans in the bed. He knew the importance of spending time with your mate, which was why he had allowed Hiccup to sleep in a little longer, but the sun was beginning to rise and he needed to stretch his wings. Impatiently he settled at the end of the bed, luminous eyes demanding Hiccup get out of bed already.

Snorting at the impatient dragon Hiccup gently slid out from under Astrid, reaching for his prosthetic to attach the metal appendage. Peeling the blanket back he took a look at her marking, her skin looked like it could use a little more saliva and bandaging the whole thing might be a good idea to prevent her shirt irritating the tender skin. Leaning in he pressed a kiss to her lips, his fingers lightly tracing the dragon on her back from nose to tail.

“Mmm, is this how I get woken from now on?” Astrid smiled, almost rolling onto her back before she realised she didn’t have her bindings or a shirt on. Blue eyes fluttered open to gaze up at Hiccup. “’Cause I could definitely get used to this.” Reaching for the blanket, she tugged it to her chest before sitting up.

Hiccup couldn’t help the goofy smile on his face as she pulled him in for a proper kiss. “Mmm, morning to you too Milady.” Capturing her lips once more he tugged her into his arms, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he stood up and carried her over to the chair. “Hey Bud, think you can give her a little lick for me?”

The black dragon rolled his eyes at their antics, but at least it meant he was closer to having their flight. Dragging his tongue over the blonde’s back he watched the boy take a seat behind the girl. Green eyes watched the boy tug the blanket free, hands carefully winding bandages all the way up the girl’s back until the whole design was covered.

“There, that should do it.” Next was her hair, Hiccup gently combed her hair out before re-braiding it with all the flyaways and loose strands tucked back into place. He knew she could do it but he wasn’t sure how sore she would be, and he really didn’t want her in pain while she attempted to do what he could do for her. “I gotta go take this useless reptile out for a flight. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Astrid sighed, leaning back into his warm body as his arms wound around her, his lips placing a lingering kiss to her neck. Then he was gone, tugging his shirt and riding gear on as an excitable dragons bounced around the hut. “Have a good flight.” She called after them as they left the hut, leaving her to dress for the day and head down to the main hall.

For the next two days Astrid went to Hiccup’s hut, or he came to hers, morning and night to cover her back in dragon saliva and clean bandages, before Astrid brightly told Hiccup the tenderness and irritation was gone. Slipping into his hut Astrid grinned at the young rider getting ready for bed. Quiet footsteps meant he hadn’t heard her come in, his back turned to her as he removed his shirt, only for her to gasp at the sight of bandages on his right bicep and left side of his chest. “Hiccup, why didn’t you tell me Ryker hurt you?” They had fended off a hunter’s raiding party the day before.

“M-milady!” Hiccup spun to face his valkyrie, surprised by her presence. “I-it’s not what it looks like, I promise. Ryker didn’t do this.” Fingers fumbling with the bandage on his right arm, he slowly unwound the bandage to reveal his personal crest of a Night Fury on his right arm, lining up exactly where it sat on his armour. “I uh- I was inspired by your marking and decided I should have a couple of my own.” Moving to the other bandage, Hiccup removed the cloth covering the left side of his chest.

Blue eyes widened, a shuddered gasp as she saw what was there. Emblazoned on his chest, directly over his heart, was a Deadly Nadder. It’s head was low, wings unfurled, and tail raised, ready for battle and guarding his heart. “Hiccup, I- .” There were no words, it was beautiful and she knew he’d done it just to prove he belonged to her.

“You have me, Astrid, all of me. Now and forever.” Bold steps brought him over to the Valkyrie, one arm looping around her waist while the other lifted her hand to rest against the Nadder. “Carve out my heart, it’s your name written there.” She wore his personal symbol, not the Haddock family crest, his, and now he would wear hers. His heart beat for her and her alone, of that he was certain, just as he knew she would guard it with all the ferocity of a Nadder.

Blue eyes gazed up, almost overwhelmed by the intensity of his devotion. The girl had to remind herself to breathe she was so lost in the power of his stare. “Hiccup, she’s beautiful.” Carefully her fingers traced the skin just beside the Nadder, before laying the lightest of kisses to the inked form.

“Yes, you are.” Hiccup murmured softly, fingers lifting her chin to kiss her as he’d been wanting to all day. A few more kisses peppered her face before he finally pulled away, taking a seat and calling Toothless over to lick his markings. “Okay Bud, do your thing.” He sat still for a moment, letting the dragon cover his markings with saliva before he felt Astrid step forward and bandage them back up. Smiling, he followed the blonde to his bed, removing his prosthetic and settling down for her to use his chest for a pillow while they slept.

The next morning brought a flurry of commotion. After the most recent hunter raid Hiccup thought it was a good idea for them all to return to Berk and visit their families. They had been away for a while now and it would do them some good to spent time with their family and friends. It would also give them a chance to grab any extra provisions they might need while trading some items they’d acquired on their travels. It also provided the perfect cover for Hiccup to take care of a personal matter.

The riders reached Berk just in time for lunch, the famished riders quickly removing their packs so their dragons could feed themselves before joining the vikings for the noon meal. Stoick appraised his son as they ate, there was something different about his son, but he couldn’t seem to put his finger on it. All he knew was something was different. Before he could pull Hiccup aside, Gobber whisked the boy away to the forge, rattling off a list of jobs he needed the lad to help him complete while he was there.

Gobber had left to deliver a sharpened sword while checking on an ill dragon, leaving Hiccup to man the forge. It was nearing dinner time, so people stopping by to make requests had long since died away, leaving Hiccup plenty of privacy when a certain Valkyrie dropped by to distract him. Leaning against his workbench he sighed into the kiss, arms wrapped around the spirited blonde, fingers burrowing beneath her top until he could drag them tantalizingly against her bare skin. Her own hands had long since slipped under his shirt, her fingernails scratching lightly against his chest and stomach as he made her whine against his lips. Gods did he love this, being able to hold her and kiss her whenever he wanted. Dipping down to suck teasingly on her neck Hiccup suddenly bolted upright at the sound of Gobber’s voice.

“What the bloody Hel is goin’ on in ‘ere?” Hiccup jerked away, eyes wide like a startled rabbit while Astrid disappeared out of he closest door, leaving Hiccup to face his godfather alone. “What did ye do? I know dragon tails an’ that was a bloody Night Fury on her back. So tell me, what was yer personal symbol doin’ brandin’ that lass like a cheap yak fer sale?”

Hiccup winced, he had really hoped Gobber hadn’t seen that. “S-she asked me for a marking, and she chose one of my sketches and asked me to do it for her, so I did it.” Hiccup replied softly, he really hated actually having to explain this, it was just so...personal. “A-and it’s not just her, Gobber.” With a sigh, the lad removed his shirt, letting his godfather see the Night Fury on his arm and the Nadder proudly inked on his chest. “B-but that doesn’t matter, because I’m asking Dad to write up a contract tonight.”

Gobber’s mouth dropped open, Hiccup was asking for Astrid’s hand? “Well why didn’t ye say so?” The one-legged viking strode forward, crushing Hiccup’s lanky form in a bear hug. “Odin’s beard, it took ye long enough. I’ll admit, I almost lost hope, but ye got there in the end, an’ that’s what matters.” Finally releasing the boy he bent down to get a better look at the markings. “That’s some good work there lad. What did she say when she saw that’ ‘ey?”

Gasping to fill his lungs with air after his Godfather’s crushing hug, Hiccup panted out a laugh. “She loved it. Actually she uh- she kissed it.” Cheeks flushed bright red as he remembered the way she’d spent that night letting him know how much she loved it. Hel, his lips were still burning from her kisses, and it just made him long for her even more. “I love her Gobber, and better yet, she loves me. Thor, what are the odds of that happening, huh?”

The canny old blacksmith roared with laughter. “Lad, ye weren’ subtle. Anyone wit’ eyes could tell ye loved ‘er.” The groan that left the love-struck boy just made Gobber laugh even harder. “And e’er since ye brought that dragon o’ yer’s around, anyone could see she was jus’ as head o’er heels fer ye. Ye two were jus’ too oblivious ta notice.” Intelligent Hiccup certainly was, observant, not so much. Gobber loved the boy like a son and he was ecstatic that he’d finally managed to woo the woman of his dreams. “Now put yer bloody shirt on an’ go get that contract. I wan’ godbabies ta spoil!”

Nodding his head, Hiccup grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head. Taking a moment to make sure he didn’t look as if he’d had a roll in the hay before heading for the door. “Oh, an’ Hiccup.” Gobber’s voice stopped the lad, turning to face the blond viking. “Do ye think ye could do one o’ those markin’s fer me?”

A bright grin crept onto Hiccup’s face. “I’m sure I could come up with something for you. How about tomorrow afternoon, after you close the forge?” Gobber nodded his agreement and Hiccup turned, racing for Haddock Hall. It was time to talk to his father about making his intentions towards Astrid official.

As promised, the moment the forge closed Hiccup set up his workbench to do a marking for Gobber. The older blacksmith loved the design Hiccup had come up with for him. It was based on the viking symbol for a blacksmith but with dragons curled around it. Taking one bulging bicep in hand, Hiccup began to sketch out the design in charcoal.

“Hey Babe.” Astrid greeted, kissing Hiccup’s cheek while setting a plate of food down beside him as well as a pitcher of water. Hiccup wasn’t much of a drinker, especially when he was working. “I figured I better grab you something before all the good stuff was taken.” A much larger plate of food and a large tankard of mead was set beside Gobber, much to the blacksmith’s enthusiasm.

“If ye hadn’ already asked fer her hand, I’d tell ye to marry ‘er.” Gobber grinned widely at the lass, watching as she pulled up a chair beside Hiccup, taking the cloth to blot the design while Hiccup worked. “An’ congratulations on finally pinnin’ the lad down an’ forcin’ him ta make an honest woman o’ ye. Don’ gimme that look, we both know she made the first move.” Gobber directed the last comment to Hiccup, his stare daring the lad to say otherwise.

Astrid chuckled, history would dictate that she made the first move, and she guessed technically she had by asking Hiccup to mark her, but she had to give him credit for actually making a move this time. “Actually, Hiccup kissed me first.” Astrid replied, earning her a pair of raised eyebrows from Gobber, the bushy blond caterpillars threatening to disappear up into his helmet. “Technically I was asleep for the first one, but he claimed the second one too.”

“Thank you, Milady.” Hiccup’s dry wit rolling off his tongue as he leaned over to claim a quick kiss. “For defending my honour and virtue as a man.” Taking a quick bite of his dinner he returned to his work, thoroughly enjoying the playfulness of their newly found relationship. Had he known his bond with Astrid would only become deeper and more honest, he would’ve bared his soul to her ages ago.

Rolling her eyes at his sarcasm Astrid took a sip from Hiccup’s cup. “So I shouldn’t tell him about how you professed your undying love to me then?” Hiccup’s head snapped to face Astrid, green eyes wide as he gaped at the girl while muttering a ‘Thor no!’. An act that only seemed to embolden the girl.

“Oh Odin, now that’s a story I need ta hear.” Gobber crowed with glee. Ripping off a giant mouthful of roast chicken he stared at Astrid with eager eyes. He was an old romantic at heart, especially when it came to his godson, and he wanted to know what Hiccup said to make the young Valkyrie swoon.

The next day word had gotten around, Gobber no doubt boasting about the new ink resting under the bandage wrapped around his massive arm. Snotlout had been the first to approach Hiccup, his cousin demanding a Monstrous Nightmare all over his back. Right up until Hiccup showed him a needle, then the boy had muttered something about being needed for chores before scurrying off.

Fishlegs had been next, the husky lad stammering out a polite request for a Gronkle. Smiling, Hiccup had nodded his head to the workbench now set up for Hiccup to ink his fellow vikings. The young rider was actually becoming quite good with a needle, and his penmanship was exemplary. Passing Fishlegs a roll of bandage he instructed the larger boy to have Meatlug lick it twice a day and then redress the mark until it felt better.

A couple of other vikings were waiting for Hiccup to mark them, among them Gothi, the Village Elder. Gobber peered over to translate the old woman’s scratchings before Hiccup kindly inked the symbol of a healer into the woman. Gothi’s toothy grin at his work was more than enough for Hiccup as he asked Toothless for a drop of saliva before dressing the site and helping Gothi up.

Hiccup was actually doing quite well with the marking, every viking who had requested one had left a few coins behind as a thank you. The whole endeavor was really starting to make Hiccup smile, to know that so many vikings wanted his art on their bodies. His good mood lasted right until Ruffnut sat down and indicated exactly where she wanted her marking to be situated.

The young rider stared at her, eyes wide in horror as she indicated an area he would only ever consider inking for his wife. “No!” Hiccup stood up, his arm pointing towards the door, requesting she leave immediately. “That’s it! No more markings! For ANYONE! I’m done!” Packing up his tools and his ink, Hiccup grabbed his sketchbook and left not stopping until he was in Toothless’ saddle and high up in the sky.

Slipping into his Haddock Hall, Hiccup started at the sight of his father’s gaze waiting for him. “I heard you refused to do any more markings for people. Left a lot of vikings quite upset.” Hiccup’s head fell, the last thing he needed was his father’s disapproval, yet somehow he’d found it.

“Ruffnut wanted one...down there.” Hiccup grumbled, slumping down onto the chair across from his father, noting the plate of food set aside for his arrival. “I just couldn’t do it, Dad. The only person I want to see down there is Astrid.” With a groan the boy dropped forward onto the table, face pressed into the timber.

Stoick’s eye crinkled with mirth as he stared down at his son, finally letting out a hearty chuckle. “Aye, which is a good thing. Shows character. It’s also one of the reasons her father was so eager to sign your contract.” The vast Chief smiled as his son’s head lifted, eyes wide with hope as Stoick placed the signed document on the table between them. “As of this mornin’, Astrid is your betrothed and Ah’ve already paid her bride price.”

This was better than anything Hiccup could’ve hoped for. His father wasn’t mad at him, actually he seemed proud, and he was officially betrothed to the girl of his dreams. “Dad, thank you. This- this is everything I ever wanted.” Finally sitting up, Hiccup slid his meal over and began to eat. He’d missed dinners with his dad.

The Chief smiled down at his son, grateful Hiccup had finally gotten everything Stoick had wanted for him. Seeing his son happy and with a woman he loved, who loved him back, what more could a father want for his child? And seeing the man that Hiccup had become, he couldn’t be prouder of the man who would eventually succeed him. “So, would you reconsider your decision about markings for your Chief?”

Wide green eyes stared at his father, did he really just ask for a marking? “For my Chief, no.” Hiccup replied, a soft smile covering his face as he  glanced at the mountain of a man. “For my Dad, always.”

A loud guffaw filled the room, a wide, toothy smile on the Chief’s face. “You can tell me all about your betrothed while ye do it. I want ta hear all about yer grand proposal, how did ye win yer Lady Fair?” Stoick’s beaming face looked down upon his son before opening his vest in preparation. “I-I want something ta help me remember yer mother. Put her close ta my heart.” A large, stubby finger tapped his chest, indicating the spot he wanted.

Hiccup thought about the Nadder covering his own chest. “I know what you mean.” Grabbing his charcoal, he began to sketch out a design. This was for both of them, and he was going to make it something his mother would be proud of when she met them on the fields of Valhalla.

[bamby0304]

New Year’s Kiss

Summary: Crushing on someone can be complicated at the best of times. But crushing on your friend's dad? On the man who had brought you into his home when you needed it most? That made it a little more complicated. The fact you had no idea if Chris felt even the slightest bit interested in you, made it so much worse. But with a new year on the way, maybe things were about to change...

Pairings: Chris x Reader

A/N: My love for Chris was unexpected, but hit me hard, so I couldn’t resist writing something sweet and cute. This fic is based on an imagine by @we-write-imagines :):)

Word Count: 1,400+

Warnings: Fluff :):)

Bamby

It's New Year's Eve. Usually you would stay home, parties weren't really your thing since you moved to Beacon Hills. It was kinda hard to enjoy the night life when you were paranoid about anything and everything possibly supernatural lurking in the shadows.

Unfortunately for you, Allison Argent was dragging you to her best friend's party.

The Argents had welcomed you into their home a few months ago. They taught you everything you might needed to know about hunting and whatnot, but kept it simple so as not to spook you too much. You were grateful for their kindness and hospitality.

Over the last few months you'd grown to be good friends with Allison. She was sweet and gentle and very caring. She treated you like a sister. Considering she'd lost a lot of friends and family lately you felt very honoured that she had welcomed you in so quickly and openly.

Chris Argent- Allison's father- had been just as welcoming. Despite losing so much he brought you in as if you'd been part of the family since the day you were born. He made sure you always had everything you might want or need. He made sure you were always prepared for any situation. He always made sure you felt at home.

At times Chris could be a little over protective when it came to you. For the first few months you thought he was being ridiculous. You thought it was an insult to your own capabilities. But as time went by you began to wonder if there were other motives for his actions.

Over time you came to like Chris. A seed had been planted, and had then sprouted into a full-grown crush. You had it bad.

Now, everything he did made your knees buckle, heart race, palms sweat and stomach flip. You had to fight from swooning whenever he smiled. You had to keep yourself from blushing whenever he offered you a compliment. You had to keep yourself focused whenever he was around.

Part of you wondered if it was wrong. He was a widower, a father, the man who had brought you into his home without question. Did that mean there could be nothing but friendship between the two of you? Was it wrong of you to feel the way you did?

Millions of questions always plagued your mind. You were constantly scolding yourself, trying to forget about the crush. But, try as you might, there was no getting rid of it.

"Here."

Sitting on Allison's bed, your legs folded underneath you, you looked over to see her stepping away from her wardrobe, her arms now full of dresses.

"Can't I just wear jeans and a shirt?" You asked, not wanting to wear one of her dresses. "It can be a nice shirt. I'll even let you pick out a sparkly or lacey one."

She simple shook her head, smiling from ear to ear. "Nope." Laying the dresses on the bed she then grabbed your arm and pulled you up until you were standing in front of her floor length mirror. "Tonight, we're gonna go all out. I need to get over Scott, and you're going to be my wing-woman."

"I thought Lydia was your wing-woman?" you noted.

"Not tonight," Allison sighed. "She's got a date." Turning, she grabbed one of the dresses and held it out in front of you. "So, tonight you're all mine. And, hey, maybe we'll find you a guy, too." She beamed as she turned her attention back to the dress.

You gave a silent sigh as you thought about the night coming your way. Dancing, drinking, flirting. None of it was exactly appealing. But Allison knew you could never say no to her, so there was no escaping your fate.

The night had actually been okay considering Scott had showed up and almost ruined Allison's time- unintentionally though… how was he supposed to know seeing him would affect her the way it did?

You yourself had a pretty good time as well. You chatted with some people, danced with Allison a little, smiled, laughed, and in the end, you even did the whole countdown thing.

When everyone turned to the person next to them, sharing their New Year's kiss, you turned to find you had no partner. It had stung for a moment, but you quickly moved on, not wanting to spoil the night.

Eventually it was time to go home. You hadn't been drinking just so you knew you would be able to get home and sleep in your own bed, instead of crashing in one of the spare rooms at Lydia's. It took some convincing to get a slightly tipsy Allison into the car, but you managed after a while.

When you got home she slipped out of the car and headed inside. But it was clear she couldn't quite find her footing. So, you wrapped an arm around her waist and walked the two of you inside.

Having put Allison to bed, you headed for the kitchen wanting to eat a little something before going to bed. You kicked your heels off on the way, letting your feet relax after being in those torture devices for hours. You pulled the clips out of your hair, loosening the tension in your head.

Rubbing at your temples, eyes closed, you hummed a relieved sigh as you stepped onto the cool tiles of the kitchen floor. Reaching for the freezer, you pulled out the ice-cream and set the container on the counter before getting a spoon out of the drawer.

Standing there, leaning your elbows on the counter, picking at the delicious dairy dessert, you were in your own little world, too distracted to notice when someone else walked into the room.

Movement caught your eye. Looking up from the ice-cream, spoon hanging in your mouth, your eyes locked onto Chris. He'd paused in the walkway, taking in your appearance.

You straightened up and pulled the spoon from your lips, looking down at yourself in embarrassment.

The dress Allison had made you wear was short, falling a few inches above the knee. It hugged your waist nicely, had long sleeves that reached your wrists, and showed a little bit of cleavage. It was a rose gold colour, all sparkles and glitter. Very pretty, and very unlike you.

The fact your hair was now a mess, and your shoes were somewhere in the house, left on the floor, made you feel even more insecure about how you looked. You couldn't stop yourself from flushing an embarrassed shade of red as you began to fidget on the spot.

"I thought I was the only one awake." Your voice came out soft, shy, unsure.

Chris didn't respond though. All he could do was continue looking you up and down, that unreadable expression still on his face.

"I'll just…" Gesturing to the ice-cream, you quickly packed it up before turning to put it away.

When you started for the exit, hoping to get passed Chris without further embarrassment, he stopped you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

The touch of his skin on your ignited a fire inside you, one you always had to fight to control. You were sure it was wrong of you to have those kinds of feelings for him, and you were sure there was no way they would ever be returned.

He lifted his free hand to your chin, tilting it up so your eyes would meet his. As they did you felt yourself sucking in a sharp breath at what you saw.

Suddenly you could read the expression on his face. Looking into his gaze, you saw a look in his eyes you'd never seen before. It was a look of awe.

There was a moment of hesitation where the two of you silently asked the other if this was happening, if you were really going to take the next step, and if the other wanted it just as bad.

Chris moved first, leaning down slowly and carefully, his eyes looking down at you lips as they parted in anticipation. The fingers wrapped around your wrist let go as his hand moved to hold your waist, the other now cupping your face.

Eyes fluttering closed, you felt yourself melt away as his lips brushed against yours. The touch was so gentle, so sweet, so caring. It spoke a million words, a million promises. In that moment you knew Chris had felt the same way as you had, for a long time now.

Leaning into him more, you felt his lips mould against yours as if they were made for your lips alone. You couldn't stop yourself from melting into him even if you wanted to.

It was a perfect kiss, and a perfect way to start the new year.

Bamby

[teamkaiforever]

24/7

(requested by @memesandfanfics) Kai Parker x Reader word count : 5 959 warning : smut summary : based on the song ‘24/7′ by David Correy | Kai is staying at Reader's grandparents' house for the summer, along with her cousins. Reader's grandpa is an old friend of Kai's father. note : i tried my best , but i am afraid it differed from the song a little more than intended    KEEP READING AFTER THE CUT😈😈😈 *not my gif _________________________

2.17AM - 3 Days After Kai’s Arrival Y/N sat on the window in the small bedroom she and her cousin got to share for the summer. Moonlight seeped through the window along with a cooler night breeze as she opened her diary, tucked away safely a picture of her and Kai between the pages and began writing. Writing everything always helped her clear her head, though this time – it seemed quite impossible.

Dear diary, Summer is only beginning and I have no idea how I will make it through the next two months with the guy I am in love with sleeping down the hall and my cousin, who is also in love with him, sleeping five steps away from me. Every time I close my eyes I am back in that hot August day last year, laying on the old tree stump with Kai by my side. I remember it as if it was yesterday, how he cupped my face with one hand and leaned in towards me. How our lips met for the first time and butterflies flapped their wings in my stomach.How his soft lips touched mine lightly at first and then he had put his arms around me holding me towards him. I remember his blue eyes piercing into mine and everything had felt perfect, but then he had to leave and none of us ever spoke about it. However I know he rememberes. It’s in his eyes every time we look at each other. I kept my distance today and saw it hurt him but what else was I supposed to do when Amy rushed out of the house to welcome him, jumping into his arms like I wanted to. And now I am losing sleep because I can’t stop thinking about him. How his eyes lit up when he saw me, the way he smiled from ear to ear and those dimples. How every time he says my name butterflies flap their wings in my stomach , how my skin turns on fire at his slightest touch. He uses every chance he gets to wrap his hands around me and even though Amy pays so much attention to him, it appears he just wants to spend his time only with me. Which is only making it harder to keep my distance because that’s what I want too. To be with him 24/7, 365 days a year. Whenever I fall asleep, that’s exactly where my dreams lead me. To his arms. Right where I want to be but I guess the Universe decided it would be more entertaining to make both me and my cousin fall in love with the same guy. Probably a way to punish me for being what I am. Y/N tapped the page with the pen and scratched the second half of the sentence to a complete blank so no one could read it and she continued writing. I just wish he’d tell me if he feels something about me. If he does maybe I won’t feel guilty about wanting what I want.

*      *     *  Kai laid awake in bed thinking … about her. He wanted to see her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. There weren’t many people he connected with or cared about or even felt something towards but with his Y/N, things were different. They had this almost instant connection and he knew what they had is special, he knew that much and wasn’t willing to let go of it. Even if it seemed like she doesn’t want to see him anymore and acts all shy around him all of the sudden. A sigh left his lips and he got up, quietly making his way out of his bedroom and two doors down to her room. He’d definitely get in trouble for sneaking into the girls’ room in the middle of the night if he gets caught, but he didn’t care. Every fiber in his body was pulling him towards her and he needed to see her, maybe wake her up and confront her because he knew for some reason she is acting like she doesn’t like him anymore. And he knew that wasn’t true. His hand hovered over the doorknob for a few long moments before he heard movements from the inside and he quickly disappeared into the shadows. A moment later the door opened and Y/N walked outside, in her PJs and barefoot as usual. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed the door quietly before heading down the stairs. Kai didn’t even have to think twice about following her to the living room and into the kitchen. He watched her open the fridge, slightly bending over to get the lemonade from one of the lower shelves and then grab a glass from the cupboard.     “Can’t sleep?” said Kai, almost making her jump up. “It’s understandable. I know you don’t like sleeping alone in your bed. You are welcome to share mine , I won’t mind.”     “So full of yourself.” she said trying to walk past him but each time he blocked her way.     “You are avoiding me.” he stated. “Why ?”     “Not avoiding you, just want to go back to sleep.”     “You are such a bad liar.” he said, a smile tugging a the corners of his mouth. “You weren’t sleeping. Your eyes are wide open and you have never been more awake in your entire life. Why are you avoiding me? Have I done something to get you upset with me ?”     “Kai –”     “Don’t Kai me.” he slowly backed her against the kitchen counter, placing both his hands on either side of her to keep her from running away. “Why do you act so weird around me? All shy as if you don’t want to see me. Last year when I got here you could barely wait for my father’s car to disappear from view to jump into my arms. This year you barely even looked at me.” Y/N left her glass behind her while trying not to think how his body pressed so firmly against hers and she could feel his heart racing. She refused to meet his eyes for more than a second while trying to figure out something to say and her mind went on a full overload when he placed his hands on her waist lightly brushing his fingers against her bare skin, the feeling coursing trough her body like an electric shock wave.     “Come on Y/N. I know you like me.” he said resting his forehead on hers. “And I know you remember – last summer when we were at the tree stump in the woods and I leaned in –” his lips almost touching hers as he spoke. “– and kissed you.”     “I don’t know what you are talking about.” she replied, her eyes darting between his eyes and his lips.     “You are lying.” he smirked seeing her nose crinkle again, just like every time she lied. “I can prove it.” He gazed into her eyes and his lips crashed against hers, sending a dozen butterflies in her stomach. The feeling spread through her body like a tsunami and he pulled her so close to him she could feel their hearts beating as one. For a moment she let go and tangled her fingers in his hair then pushed him away, placing her hand on his chest holding him an arms length away.     “Y-you can’t do that.” she pushed him off her and almost ran upstairs, trying to calm her breathing and heart rate. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth still feeling the lingering feeling of his lips on hers. He had kissed her. What did that mean ? She made her way to the second floor when Kai grabbed her wrist, spun her around and his lips crashed against hers again. He backed her against the wall pressing his body firmly onto hers and pinned her hands over her head so she couldn’t push him off again.      ”Stop lying to me and stop lying to yourself. There is something between us and you know it.” he said breathing a little heavily, resting his forehead on hers while snaking his hand around her waist pulling her towards him. “Don’t deny it. Your kiss already gave you away.”     “I told y-you – I don’t like you this way.” she wiggled her hands free and pushed him off her, taking a step down the hall. Barely a second later he grabbed her wrist again, spin her around and smashed his lips against hers pulling her towards him. For a moment Y/N pulled him close too and then pushed him off again but he wouldn’t give up and pulled her back for another kiss leaving her completely breathless.     “Sure you don’t. That’s why your heart is trying to leap out of your chest and your cheeks are flushed. That’s why you returned the kiss all four times and that’s why you are looking at me with those googly eyes right now. Makes total sense.” Y/N opened and closed her mouth trying to find any words to say to him, scrambling for any will power to push him off. Instead, she allowed him to shove her against the wall again, leaning in to whisper in her ear.     “I want you and I know you want me.” he whispered, pushing his crotch against hers. “You know what else I want? I want to rip your clothes right in the middle of this hallway and have my way with you until the sun comes up.” Y/N opened a closed her mouth feeling her skin turn on fire at his words, Kai’s hot breath hitting her face intoxicated her and clouded her mind completely. He pinned her hands over her head and brushed his fingertips against her hip all the way up her body without taking his eyes off her for a second. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second and her back arched off the wall towards him and he pushed his crotch against hers again.     “Kai , l …Let me g-go.” she stuttered not willing to look him in the eyes knowing the second she does she wouldn’t be able to push him off again. “Please –” Why did things have to be so complicated, why couldn’t she just – let go and be with him like she wanted? He wanted her just as much as she wanted him and if there was no one in the house, they probably would’ve ripped each other’s clothes by now. But if couldn’t happen, not with her cousin sleeping a door away and her grandparents being down the hall.     “Only because you said ‘please.” he brushed his nose against hers for a second and took a step away from her. Y/N studied his face for a moment and quickly made her way to her bedroom. Her shaky hand hovered over the doorknob for a few long moments before she felt Kai’s breath on her neck, whispering in her ear.     “I wish I could take you with me in my room –” he brushed his fingers against her inner thighs all the way up to her heat. “ – and spend the rest of night and every night after that with you.” *      *     *

(5 Days After Kai’s arrival)   “Aren’t you coming with us?” wondered her grandma while everyone was getting ready to go to the lake for the day. Y/N shook her head glancing at Kai. “I don’t feel very well, grandma. It’s probably from all the sun yesterday. Don’t worry, it’s nothing a day inside and cold lemonade can’t fix.”     “You can’t stay here all by yourself –” interjected her grandpa.     “I can stay with her.” said Kai immediately. “Keep an eye on her in case something happe– ”     “No.” protested both Amy and Y/N together.     “You can’t miss the barbecue by the lake. Grandpa is going to teach us how to fish –”     “I already know how to fish plus we can’t leave her all alone here.” he said concerned. “What if someone breaks in? I will never forgive myself if something happens to her and I could’ve prevented it.”     “Such a sweet boy.” said her grandma leaning in towards Y/N. “He is a keeper.”     “He sure is.” Kai grinned at her and a devilish spark flashed in his eyes for a second. “I’ll go help grandpa with the picnic baskets. Excuse me.” About half an hour later Y/N sat cuddled up on the couch with a book on her lap and a glass with lemonade watching her cousins and grandparents go through the door while Kai held it open, smiling innocently at every single one of them.     “Have fun. Save us some of the barbecue.” called out Kai before closing the door behind them. A long moment passed and he took a peek through the window before turning around with a devilish grin on his face. “Finally. I thought they’d never leave.”     “What are you doing ?” she wondered, watching him pull his shirt over his head. He tossed it on the comfy chair, leaned in towards her and grabbed her lemonade from her hands drinking all of it at once.     “Ahh, that was so refreshing. Did you make this one? It’s so much better than the one your grandma made.” he grinned. “And to answer your question — it’s really hot in here.” Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes at his suggestive look, trying to keep her focus on the pages in front of her and not on his bare chest or the way he was looking at her with that mischievous look in his eyes that she loved so much. He sat on the couch next to her, pulled her legs onto his lap and slowly brushed his fingers against her bare skin all the way from her ankles to her inner thighs. A tingly feeling spread through her body like a tidal wave, waking up every fiber in her body and he continued to do that going higher every time until his fingers got to her heat and she gripped his wrist.     “Why are you here ?”     “What sort of a question is this? You said you weren’t feeling well and I stayed to make sure you don’t die of a heatstroke,” he said as if its the most obvious thing in the world. “You seem perfectly fine to me though… More than fine actually. You look beyond hot with that loose ponytail and those perky short shorts, I just want to mmmmm –”     “You know, you talk too much,” said Y/N glancing up from her book, her gaze falling on his bare chest. “It’s distracting. Like really distracting. I am trying to read and you are making it so hard to concentrate.”     “Fine. I’ll stop talking. There is something else I want to be doing with my lips anyway.” his voice dropped a few octaves and he moved a little closer to her. “Like kiss every square inch of your body while my fingers trail every curl of your body before I get between your legs and make you scream my name until you can’t breathe.” Y/N opened and closed her mouth trying to find something to say, coming up empty every time. Her skin flamed up at his words and Kai grinned at her, continuing to crawl over her. No matter how much she tried to focus it wasn’t possible, not with his hot breath on her face clouding her mind completely. Every time she moved back on the couch pulling away from him, he crawled right after her, trailing his fingertips up her up inner thighs, their lips almost touching as he spoke.     “How long are you going to pretend you are not dying on the inside ?” he wondered, his eyes drifting between her eyes and her lips. “You are dying for me to grab you and have my way with you.”     “Am I ?” Kai hummed, took the book off her hands and left it on the coffee table next to the empty lemonade glass without taking his eyes off hers for a second until he almost climbed on top of her, slipping his hand under her shirt glazing his palm against her bare skin.     “We both know you can hardly control yourself around me. It’s just us.You don’t have to pretend you don’t want me. I know you are obsessed with me.” Y/N took a shallow breath trying to ignore how his fingers quite literally drew fire lines on her skin everywhere he touched her. “Who’s pretending?” Kai brushed his nose against her cheek and pushed his hand between her legs parting them a bit, leaving wet kisses on her neck. He nibbled on her earlobe listening to her moan quietly when his fingers found their way to her heat. “Then why haven’t you slapped my hand away yet ?”     “I um –” she gulped. Kai grinned at her and got up, taking a book from the bookshelf. Y/N took a shallow breath trying to calm down her heart rate/breathing and tried to return her attention to the book. He sure was persistent. For the past few days, he was using every opportunity to drive her out of her mind and get her to break and she was this close to the breaking point.       “I wonder what this book is about.” he thought out loud, making her look up. “Oh wait – me !”     “N-no,” said Y/N , her eyes widened and she started to get up. “You can’t read that !”     ”Dear diary, it’s 5 am and I haven’t had a wink of sleep thanks to Kai who decided to steal my sleep for yet another night.” he started to read out loud, running around the room with her diary while she tried to catch him. “You know I really like how you spelled my name in tiny hearts. It’s so adorable.”     “Give it back.” she reached for her diary but Kai eluded her at the kitchen door and flipped another page.     ”I swear, one more second and I wouldn’t have been able to control myself. How long can I fight this for my cousins’ sake? I want him. I want him to kiss me and hold me in his arms 24/7 and never let me go. I want him to do all those things he whispered in the dark and more.” he looked at her and continued reading heading towards the stairs with her at his tail. “And tomorrow the hell continues because all day he will be right there and I will have to pretend that seeing him shirtless with water dripping down his bare chest doesn’t affect me at all.”     “Stop.”     ”‘That Amy stealing him from me doesn’t bother me one bit when in fact after all those midnight surprises from him, it is bothering me like Hell.’ Aww you got jealous,” he smirked at her. “That’s kinda hot.”     “Me? Jealous ? Don’t flatter yourself, Parker.” Y/N finally snatched her diary realizing they were a few steps away from his bedroom. He had tricked her but she didn’t care. Electricity floated between them when their eyes met, the tension building up as he slowly backed her against the wall a step away from his bedroom door. He brushed his fingers against her cheek, trailing her lips with his fingertips and couldn’t help but notice how her knees literally caved in. Her back hit the wall and Kai braced his hands on either side of her, caging her in.     “Amy can’t take what already belongs to you sweet cheeks. Haven’t you figured that out yet. ” he cooed resting his forehead on hers. “I want you. It’s driving me nuts how much I want you. My skin is literally on fire every time you are around. Do you have any idea what you do to me without even trying?”     “Kai – ”     “I never feel anything for anyone but for you – I feel everything and it’s driving me out of my mind. Why are you always in my head? How are you always there lurking in the corners of my mind, sneaking into all my dreams –” his lips almost touching as he spoke. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch. “Feel this? This is how you make me feel and I bet if I slip my hand in your panties – you are just as excited as I am.” Y/N bit her lip feeling his hard on and all thoughts about him she had locked away flooded her mind at once. It felt as if she was drowning in all of them and only he could pull her to shore. Their eyes met and it felt as if literally sparks flew between them. For a long moment neither of them said or did anything, then their lips crashed together and they practically went through the door in their hurry to get inside, unable to get their clothes off fast enough or keep their hands away from the other for longer than a split second.     “So hot.” he bit his lip looking her up and down as he pushed her roughly onto the bed and crawled over her until their eyes were on the same level. He gazed into her eyes and his lips crashed against hers while her legs wound around his waist pulling him towards her and his crotch grounded harder against hers, her fingers tangling in his hair. Every kiss, every touch felt like a match being light up starting a wildfire and there was no way to extinguish it now. Only fuel it more. A second later she lost her bra and rolled on top of him, her fingertips exploring every inch of his chest while her hips rolled on his crotch at a steady pace feeling him getting harder with every move. All this time fantasizing about this moment and it was finally happening and after this, there was no way they’d let each other go.       “You are driving me completely out of my mind.” he moaned, placing his hands on her hips helping her move a little faster on him. “I want you more than ever right now.” Y/N grinned at him, their lips crashed together and he rolled on top of her so fast she didn’t have time to blink. His crotch pushed hard against hers making her moan into the kiss and his lips found their way down her neck, sucking on a spot on her collarbone marking her as his. He listened to her moan softly as he cupped her breasts, swirling his tongue around the left nipple and then around the right without taking his eyes off her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, lightly gripping on in as her back arched off the bed and her eyes fluttered closed.     “Who’s driving who out of their mind ?” she moaned. His touch felt like pure magic, transporting her to places she never thought it was even possible to go. Both of them getting lost in the other with every second. He brushed his fingertips across her inner thighs all the way to her panties teasing her folds through the fabric. Her skin went up in flames when he pressed his mouth on her heat, inhaling and exhaling sharply, getting her breath caught in her throat.    "I can’t wait to taste you –” Kai bit on the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs with his teeth without taking his eyes off her for a second. For a moment he pressed his lips together, looking at her with hungry eyes as she laid there completely naked before him now.     “Absolutely breathtaking.” he said with a devilish spark in his eyes. His fingers brushed up her inner thighs and against her clit spreading her arousal around before he leaned in, parting her legs wide. He licked a bold stripe across her heat, slurping some of her arousal, letting out a moan as he did sending the vibrations directly onto her clit as he enveloped it in his lips and began sucking and tugging on it.     “OH fuck –” she moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair, pushing his mouth further. Every move of his tongue drove her crazier but none of it compared to the moment he pushed a finger inside her, going into the last knuckle slowly curling it around feeling every inch again and again until his finger was joined by another. Kai loved how her body responded to him, how every curl of his fingers made her back arch off the bed more each time and how she tug on his hair a little harder but what he loved the most were all the sounds she was making. He listened to her moans mix with whimpers and his name constantly rolling off her tongue until she was almost screaming while his fingers pumped faster inside her.     “Mmm you taste amazing.” he moaned, nibbling on her clit for a few seconds unable to tear his eyes away from her, continuing to devour her with hunger. Her walls clenched around his fingers and her hips pushed down on him craving more of him. “So tight around my fingers. It will feel amazing stretching you out later.” He could feel his briefs tightening around him more and more with every sound coming from her lips and could hardly wait to make her his. Her back arched of the bed and her eyes rolled in the back of her head while her orgasm approached fast. “Kai I am s-so close -” she moaned. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed for a second feeling fire coursing through her veins with every curl of his fingers. She looked down at him and could swear it appeared as if the Devil himself had decided to pay her a visit and burn her alive. Her walls clenched around Kai’s fingers a little more intensely while her heartbeat and breathing raced with each other, trying to match and failing every time. Every sound she made only spurred him to pump his fingers faster until her orgasm tore through her body and she came screaming his name.     “You look so hot falling apart under my touch.” he cooed, leaving kisses on his way up her body until their eyes were on the same level and their lips collided in a deep passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss she rolled on top of him, straddling him at a steady pace and his hands found their way on her hips making her move faster. Their lips moved hungrily against each other, both of them pouring every suppressed emotion for the other into the kiss. Y/N traced his jawline and dipped her head leaving wet kisses on his neck, down his bare chest without taking his eyes off him for a second until her lips reached his lenght. She pressed her mouth on him through his briefs, letting her hot breath on him before her fingers hitched around the waistband of his briefs and she pulled them off. Her eyes widened a little and she bit her lip seeing his hard lenght flop onto his stomach.     “What?” he wondered seeing her mesmerized look.     “N-nothing. Just – enjoying the moment.” she smiled and leaned in licking a bold stripe all the way from his balls to the tip. Her fingers wrapped around his thick shaft and Kai bit his lip, propping himself on his elbows not taking his eyes off her for a second as she blew a light stream of air onto the tip.     “I am losing it because of you.” he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second. “Who knew you were this naughty ?” Y/N hummed, running her tongue on the underside of his thick shaft while her free hand fondled his balls gently. Her eye contact was driving him nuts but he lost it completely when her thumb rubbed in slow circles on the tip gathering the pre-cum on it and he saw her taste him on her lips.     “I thought I wanted you badly before but – if I don’t make you mine now, I am going to lose it.” he moaned. Y/N swirled her tongue around the head continuing to stroke him at a steady pace. Soft moans tumbled off his lips and he tangled his fingers in her hair, watching her take just the tip between her lips. He wondered why he had waited for so long to confront her about everything. There had been so many opportunities but he had somehow missed all of them.     “Oh shit –” he moaned. Y/N nibbled on the tip for a few seconds, taking him a little further in her mouth every time.He watched her bop her head up and down on him, moaning/humming some song sending the vibrations directly onto the head. Y/N took her time teasing him and driving him out of his mind until he couldn’t take it anymore and pushed her head down on him, making her take him all the way for a few seconds before letting her continue on her own. It was driving him nuts how she looked so innocent doing all those naughty things. “So hot with your hair stuck to your face like that –” Kai watched her unable to tear his eyes away for a few more moments before he pulled her up until their lips collided, rolling on top of her without breaking the kiss. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and pinned her hands over her head, rubbing the tip of his thick shaft against her clit, lightly pressing it against her entrance watching her lose it.     “I want you.” she moaned. “I need you.”     “You need me to what baby girl? Tell me.” he continued to tease her without taking his eyes off her. A few more seconds like this and she’d lose it completely. His eyes were completely black with lust and just the way he was looking at her was enough to push her over the edge.     “Fuck me –”     “Mmmmm say it again.” he cooed, slowly sliding just the tip in, watching her bite her lip.     “Fuck me Malachai.” A low growl escaped his lips and he entered her with one hard deep thrust withdrawing slowly and going in harder and deeper each time, hitting her spot almost from the start. He rested his forehead on hers, his hot breath hitting her face with every thrust clouding her mind more and more. Something flashed in his eyes for a moment and he entered her so hard knocking all the air out of her lungs, making her body jolt forward almost hitting the headboard.     “Don’t call me by my full name.” he warned, thrusting inside her a little rougher. “Bad things happened when people do that.” Y/N’s eyes rolled in the back of her head and a louder moan left her parted lips when he filled her to the brim again, picking up the pace with each thrust. What did he mean by ‘bad’? She knew he wasn’t fond of his full name but she loved it. She loved how it rolled out of her tongue and could repeat it over and over again for hours.     “Bad ?” she moaned. “What you just did felt so good, Malach-” Kai’s lips crashed against hers not letting her finish while he continued to pound relentlessly inside her, hitting her spot every time. Each thrust that followed was rougher than the last, leaving her craving more. Her walls tightened around him a little more intensely and it felt as if he wanted to bury his entire self inside her and even though he couldn’t – he kept trying. Sounds of flesh on flesh filled the room, mixing with their moans/groans and the sounds of the hitting the headboard hitting the wall.     “Fuck you feel so good around me.” he groaned, gripping her wrists. His lips smashed against hers drowning her in a passionate kiss, but there was something different this time. His eyes opened instantly, widening in surprise seeing the red glow under his palms where he was holding her. “Damn Y/N –” Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, feeling a pinch on her wrists where his skin touched hers. Whatever he was doing in that moment was driving her out of her mind and almost pushed her over the edge. Her walls tightened around him almost at the same time his lenght twitched inside her and Kai picked up the pace even more, barely leaving half a second between each thrust. He pressed his lips against hers slowly trailing them down to her neck, sucking on another spot she wouldn’t be able to cover no matter what.     “Fuck I’m s-so clo-se.” she moaned.     “Hold it. Wait for me.” he groaned, continuing the pound her senseless. Kai intertwined their fingers together, resting his forehead against hers, trying to figure out how he hadn’t found out her little secret earlier. Y/N’s eyes rolled in the back of her head and she held onto his hands tighter than ever, listening to their moans colliding in perfect harmony. Their lips touched, drowning their loud moans when he came in hot spurts inside her with her orgasm following shortly after. He never stopped or slowed down, riding through both their highs before collapsing on top of her, both of them trying to catch their breath.     “Well, well … you kept your little secret well.” he said out of breath.     “Wh-what are you talking about ?” she wondered as he rolled onto the bed next to her, refusing to look at him. Kai turned to his side and brushed his palm against her cheek making her look at him. A few moments later there was this slight pinch on her cheek and her eyes fluttered closed. “How are you doing that ?”     “Your grandparents will so get upset but –” he suddenly got up and ripped one of the pillows, dropping all the feathers on his bed under her semi-stunned, semi-curious look. Kai hovered his hand over the feathers, slowly lifting his palm making the feathers float in the air around her and she shot up into seating position, reaching for one of his t-shirts near by.     “You are a witch !” she smiled wider than ever, quickly putting on his shirt. “Oh my God ! And you never told me ?”     “You never told me.” he retorted.     “I um — ” she ran her fingers nervously through her hair. “– I don’t really tell anyone. I mean – it’s from my father’s side. No one here knows. My grandparents don’t even know.”     “I knew you were special but damn ,Y/N.” he brushed his fingers against her cheek, kissing her gently. “This summer is going to be so much fun. Just you and me –”     “You mean, you, me, my cousin who has a gigantic crush on you and her brother who keeps giving me the evil eye every time you touch me –” she started to say but Kai didn’t let her finish.    ”Just you and me.“ he repeated, pressing his lips against hers. “I um – I am sorry about reading your diary.”    "My diary..“ she trailed off.    "Wait ,were are you going ? Y/N ?” Y/N slipped from under him, walked outside the room and picked up her diary. Quickly she closed the door and grabbed a pen from the desk before sitting on the bed next to Kai.He watched her with curiosity, wound his hands around her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder while she began writing. Dear diary, this is going to be the best summer ever … _____________________________ MASTERLIST - SMUT MASTERLIST - FLUFF