#and I’m realizing I’m not getting any younger…. I know I’m still young but if I don’t do something soon -

[rosicheeks]

i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

unexpected consequences

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, condoms breaking, pregnancy/breeding talk, unprotected p in v sex, established relationship, mention of marriage

“oh fuck, yeah.” you moan out, fingers gripping rafes shoulders. “right-right there.”

your moans are extra loud today, having been apart from rafe for nearly a week after he had business out of the country. rafe is just as pent up as you, thrusting harshly into your cunt to the chorus of his grunts.

“close.” rafe warns, but you could tell anyways by the swelling of his cock that he wouldn’t last long.

“oh my god, yes.” you moan out, back arching off the bed as your release pushes through your body, cumming with a final shout of your boyfriends name.

rafe drops his head into your neck as he cums inside of you, pushing as deeply as he can as your cunt pulses around him. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press soft kisses to his head while rafe pants through his orgasm, until you shift slightly and feel it inside of you.

“rafe, pull out.” you shove at his shoulder, causing him to look up in concern, but he slips his softening cock out.

“what is it baby?” rafe asks. you look down at the condom he always wears, where theres always a bit of white cum gathered at the tip, but this time it looks practically empty, like he just rolled it on.

“rafe.” you hit his shoulder, causing him to flinch and look down.

“wha-” rafe suddenly realizes the issue, rolling himself off the bed as he walks into the bathroom, no doubt to inspect the condom and tell you what you already know is true.

“it broke.” rafe says when he comes out a moment later.

“i know.” you admit, shifting your hips from side to side again. “i can tell.”

“im so sorry baby.” rafe says with a sigh, laying on the bed next to you but not pulling you into his arms, not sure if you want to be touched.

“its okay.” you hum softly, mind still reeling. “you didn’t know.”

“what are we gonna do?” rafe asks, knowing you’re not on birth control due to affecting other medication you’re on.

“well, i can take a plan b in the morning…” you say quietly. 

“or.” rafe encourages you to continue, able to tell that you aren’t finished.

“or we could wait and see. i mean i probably won’t get pregnant just from one time, right?” you shrug.

“what about if it does take? and you’re pregnant?” rafe asks, looking at your tummy.

as if you’re thinking the same thing, you lay your hand over your stomach, knowing that even if you are pregnant there is nothing in there yet, but the thought alone has you rubbing gently over your skin. “i don’t know.” you admit.

“i want to keep it.” rafe blurts out. “if-if you are pregnant.” rafe can’t take not touching you any longer, pulling you close to him and tangling your limbs together.

“are you sure?” you raise your eyebrows. you think rafe would be an amazing father, knowing how protective he is of you, and how he strives every day to take even better care of you. “we are so young.”

“i love you. i want to be with you, i want a family with you. why not start now?” rafe questions. he won’t admit it to you yet, but he’s been thinking about taking the next step, having even gone ring shopping to see his options. “besides-” rafe smiles, “why are you trying to talk me out of it? you’ve always wanted kids.”

you grin back at him. “i know.” you let a giggle free, feeling giddy about the possibility. you’ve always wanted to become a mom, especially because you have so many younger siblings. “so, are we doing this?”

“yes.” rafe says definitively, pulling you in for a kiss, a comforting one that you truly need.

“oh my god, im so excited.” you break the kiss to mumble against his lips.

rafe nods in agreement, lowering a hand between your bodies to touch your stomach. “probably too early to start talking to your tummy, huh?” 

“definitely. i mean, we don’t even know if i’m pregnant, it may take a couple tries…” you trail off, hoping rafe gets your intention.

“well, i will just have to keep cumming inside you.” rafe shrugs. “in fact, we shouldn’t take any chances and i should fill you up again right now.”

rafes hand lowers from your stomach to your thigh as he grabs your flesh and pulls your leg over his hip, spreading your thighs for him as your cunt rubs up against his quickly hardening cock.

“rafe!” you shout with a laugh, but don’t stop him as he begins to grind his cock into your core.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[m0nsterqzzz]

The Three Times Natasha Proposed to You and the One Time You Said Yes

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

summary: your girlfriend has a habit of proposing, and you have a habit of saying no.

a/n: I was gonna do this with katniss but decided it worked better with my favorite spy and also its been way to long since I wrote for herrrrrr ahhhh anyway, I LOVE HER YOUR HONOR

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The first time Natasha proposed to you, you had only known her for 18 hours.

You were new to the team. So new in fact that you only knew three people’s names at a table with eight people since the other five were too busy all day to introduce themselves. Dinner was awkward, for you at least, as everyone else was busy chatting about their days with each other. They’re laughing, the bond they all share clear as joy feels the air.

You don’t feel that joy.

It’s not like you’re not happy to be here; you’re insanely grateful that Fury was willing to see past your history and allow you to join forces such as the incredible ones around you, but you just don’t feel very welcomed.

You don’t blame the team. After all, it’s only the first day, and Fury already told you about the fact that most of the people on that team aren’t very warm and friendly. It does kind of bug you though, how now the people you’re not familiar with even seem to notice your presence in the group.

It’s just the first day. Things will get better. You repeat for the 100th time, eyes trained on the table as you spoon some more of the food that was in the kitchen when Jarvis called for you into your mouth. It’s chicken over rice, a simple recipe, but the chicken is covered in some type of delicious sauce that you can’t get enough of.

“Is the food okay? It’s my family's recipe.” A girl with brunette hair and jade colored eyes sitting across from you speaks, nervously smiling as she pushes her fork around the food on her plate. She’s young, younger than everyone else on the team, and it makes you feel a bit better about being new as you remember what Fury said about her only joining about half a year ago.

You give a hesitant smile, answering honestly; “Oh…yeah. I love it. It’s delicious.” 

The girl smiles brighter, reaching across the table to hold out her hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Fury’s told me alot about you. I’m Wanda.”

“All good things I hope.” You giggle before introducing yourself, and she laughs along with you before you both go back to eating. The rest of the team slowly introduces themselves, and out of the corner of your eye you go see the way Wanda cringes when they only do it after she gave an example.

Even if they only did it once the girl made them realize, you still feel a bit more comfortable here then you did a while ago.

You notice Wanda eyeing your rings as you guys continue to eat, so you put your hand on the table in between you too. Her eyes shoot up to you in surprise, clearly not knowing that you noticed it. “Sorry for the staring. I just…I really like your rings. I love wearing them myself and I’ve never seen any like that. They’re beautiful.”

That’s how you guys start up in a conversation about rings, and then a few minutes later you’re sliding off one of your rings to give to her. She seems like the nicest person here, and you can already tell you’re going to be great friends. When you get it off, it accidently flies out of your hand, bouncing on the table before it falls off and lands somewhere on the floor. You turn red in embarrassment at the way everyone falls silent, staring at you in amusement before a redheaded woman slides out of her seat and kneels down on one knee to search for the item.

You met her earlier when you went to the gym to train, and she even helped you learn a few awesome fighting moves before she left to let you do your own thing. You can’t deny that Natasha is beautiful.

The woman smiles when she finds it, grasping the metal in her hand before she turns to face you, still on one knee as she holds it out for you to take as if she’s proposing.

If she notices the way it looks, she doesn’t say anything until Tony, the man you met when he blew up a lab earlier, laughs and mumbles under his breath, “I’m not paying for that wedding.”

You giggle, watching as Natasha stands up and turns to glare at him before facing you once again and putting it on the table near your plate. “Shut up Tony.” She mumbles before sitting back down in her own seat, and you say before shoving food into your mouth when the embarrassment sets in, “I’m not ready to settle down. Sorry Nat.”

Everyone just chuckles, and you are left with a small smile and new found happiness.

The second time she’d done it, she’d almost had you fooled that it was real.

You and her had been dating for three months, and you guys were absolutely inseparable. You’ve learned a lot about her in the year you’ve been an Avenger, and she sometimes opens up about her past. Her little sister, the red room, Dreykov.

Anyway, Fury had sent you on a mission with her, your best friend Wanda, and Steve Rogers to go and steal a flash drive from a destroyed hydra base then find some place quickly to look at what's on it. He said to find the nearest place as people would already be on the search for us, so that's why you got Nat to pull over at a mall. Not for clothes or a new pair of shoes, but to go into one of the electronic stores and use one of their computers to read what's on the file.

It was easy until Natasha noticed one of the workers looking at Steve in suspicion as they see him inserting the drive into one of the computers, and you’re about to abort the mission before your girlfriend grabs your hands and tugs you to the middle of the store, dropping into one knee and glancing at Wanda. The witch seems to get the hint even though you don’t understand what's happening, but you do when the young girl uses her magic to make a ring appear in Natashas hand. It’s beautiful, but you can tell it’s just an illusion to fool the people around you as small red whisps surround your best friend's hands.

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” The redhead starts, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the store but too loud as to not seem unusual. “I know you’re having my brother's baby,” She continues with that most serious face you’ve ever seen, and you have to try your hardest not to burst out laughing. “But I can treat you better than he ever could.”

The whole crowd of people in the store are now focused on you, even the workers which gives Steve the time he needs to enter the hard drive into one of the computers and read what's on it.

“So what do you say hottie? You wanna do this or not? Marry me?” You stare at her for a few minutes, eyes glancing at the blonde haired man who silently laughs at the scene in front of him before sending you a thumbs up to show he’s done and you guys can go.

“No!” Everyone quietly gasps, all looking away as Natasha fakes offense. “No! What the fuck? What kind of proposal is this? I’m just trying to buy a new phone, Stacy! And you’ve got a huge barbecue stain on that sweater. This is truly the best you could do?”

You're having way too much fun with it as you scoff before gently slapping her, trying your hardest not to laugh at the way everyone gasps even louder while you storm out.

Your friends and girlfriend quickly catch up with you, and you all finally burst out laughing by the time you’re getting in the car and driving away from the mall right as some scary looking military vehicle pulls up to the building. “Did you have to slap me?” Natasha laughs out, the ring box Wanda had magically created is now gone as she sits next to you in the back seat. “I feel like you enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did enjoy it. I’m also just practicing for the day you do propose to me.” She lets out a fake annoyed groan, slinging an arm over your shoulder as she pulls you to lay against her side.

Despite the playful mood, you can’t help but feel a fluttery feeling in your chest and a warm blush coating your face at the thought of being married to this girl. Little did you know, she was feeling the exact same.

When she did it a third time, it almost seemed like it was second nature for her to pull out a ring box and propose to you. 

You had just got back to the Avengers tower after a lunch date, and she froze on the doorstep when she realized you were no longer beside her. She turns in circles, panic filling her when she doesn’t see you. She’s a spy for fuck sakes, how could she have not noticed something happening to you.

 Her panic fades when you pop out from behind a thick tree, a snowball made from the small amount of snow on the grass in hand as you send her a mischievous smile. She doesn’t have any time to move before you’re launching it in her direction, practically falling over with laughter as it hits her forehead and then breaks into pieces.

The redhead still seems a bit shocked, but she quickly gets over it as she groans with a grin and runs over to harshly tackle you to the ground. It knocks the wind out of you, but you’re both still laughing so hard your stomach hurts as she grabs some snow from beside your head and then lets it fall onto you. “You wanna play that fucking game? Oh we can play that game honey.”

You shake your head, but the bright smile on your face tells her that you’re not actually scared. “No. I’m sorry Tasha. We can talk this out.” When she makes a, “tsk…tsk” noise with her mouth, you use all your strength to push her off of you, sprinting towards your home even though you can hear the sound of Natasha’s boots hastily crunching the snow beneath them as she runs after you.

She wraps her arms around your waist, easily picking you up off the ground and spinning you around. As cringy as it is, your laugh makes her laugh, and the moment is so perfect as she slowly lets you down so she can look you in the eyes.

“Wait a second.” Natasha mumbles, before grabbing something from her pocket, telling you to turn around for a minute while she makes you a surprise. You draw shapes in the snow in the meantime, your fingers practically numb but by the time you’re done, every planet is drawn into the frozen canvas. “Alright. Turn around.” She speaks again, and your smile grows- if possible- at the sight.

She’s messily formed a ring with the wrapper from a straw at dinner, and now she’s balanced on one knee in the icy snow as she grins up at you. “Will you marry me, and be mine forever?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, finally holding at your left hand for her to put the ring on as you yell out, “Of course I’ll marry you!”

The russian girl laughs, once again picking you up to twirl you around before she sets you down to kiss you easier.

From a window high up in the Avengers tour, Wanda watches the interaction while drinking her tea and then closing her curtains. “When is she gonna do it for real?” She whispers to herself, already so done with the fact that Natasha has proposed to you three times, and yet she hasn’t been able to wear a pretty bridesmaid dress in her whole live.

The day Natasha proposed in the privacy of the cabin Tony’s letting you borrow for a weekend, twinkling lights dressing the living room and the dining table decorated with candles, rose petals and fancy wine that’s probably from Pepper, was the time you know she wasn't kidding.

As the sun sets behind the clouds, you and Natasha sit across from each other with your free hands hooked together beside your plates. The setting sun casts gentle rays upon your face from the window, illuminating your features with a golden light. You two share a quiet, comfortable silence for a moment before she looks up from her plate to you, a smile gracing her lips. You look at Natasha, heart beating softly in your chest from the soft, gentle atmosphere of the moment. She lets go of her fork to use that hand to grab ahold of your other hand, your fingertips intertwined gently. Your eyes meet across the table, and for a second it’s just you guys in the world. 

The girl then speaks, her words sincere and clear, as she makes her proposal. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I’ve wanted to since the first date we went on. I was scared though…..scared of finding someone I love in a world that could take it away so easily. But now….now I realize. It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to be with you for what time we have left, it’s worth it. So," she says softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling as she grabs a ring box from her pocket and opening it so you can see the diamond ring inside before standing up from her seat so she can get down on one knee next to the table. 

"Will you marry me?" 

The question hangs in the air as you gaze into the girl's eyes and processes the words. Your mind reels from the unexpectedness of it all, but you also can't help the surge of joy welling in her chest.

“Yes. Yes of course I will!” Her grin brightens, and she’s still kneeled as she wraps her arms around your waist to hug you as tight as she can. You join her on your knees so you’re on her level, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a passionate kiss. You would’ve married her the first time she asked, but you’re somehow glad you waited until now to say yes. This is perfect.

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[alt-vera]

— text me, texas ⁀➷

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joel miller worries that the girl he’s been seeing is holding out on him on purpose. she definitely isn’t.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ text me texas - chris young ❜

warnings: pre!outbreak joel miller. outdoor oral (m!receiving). praise. fond nicknames being used. deep throating. age gap. mdni.

❝ it’s breaking my heart and i’m starting to get the message… c’mon and text me, texas ❞

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JOEL MILLER COULDN’T KEEP HIS EYES OFF OF HIS PHONE.

　Whether he was working, or making breakfast for Sarah, his flip phone was always in his peripheral vision. He didn’t even know if it was intentional anymore.

　It’d been a week since he heard from you. A week since the two of you had gone on a nearly disastrous date. A week since he’d gotten a text from you reading, “Talk 2 U L8er, cowboy”

　Texas and Cowboy. You were the one who started the nicknames, jokingly calling him cowboy when he’d come into the ER for some stitches he’d earned during work. Joel knew he shouldn’t be hitting on the resident more than a decade younger than him patching him up, but he loved the way the corners of your eyes crinkled as he cracked a ludic joke, and the way the tip of your tongue peeked out of the corner of your mouth as you honed in on your work.

　This lead to him asking for your number as you discharged him, and you saying yes for a reason Joel couldn’t figure out. Of course, your residency schedule wouldn’t allow for a date right away, something that wouldn’t happen for another two weeks after your fateful meeting, but it did allow for an abundance of phone calls between the two of you.

　Something that had become so routine for Joel that, with their current absence, had caused him a week of fitful, sleepless nights. Missing his texas that wasn’t really from Texas.

　Even now, as he and Tommy shot the shit sitting on the back of Joel’s shoddy wooden porch, beers in hand and cicadas buzzing a backtrack for their conversation, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the folded black device sitting on the table between them.

　“Maybe she’d finally come to her senses,” Tommy suggested with a shit-eating grin as he took a sip from the glass bottle in his hands. “Realized she could do better than a dirty ol’ contractor.”

　“Don’t talk as if your shit don’t stink,” Joel replied gruffly, calloused hands picking at the peeling label of his beer. “You’re in the exact same boat as i am. How is Ashley, by the way?”

　“Fuckin’ a lawyer,” Tommy replied with a roll of his eyes, a much more forceful sip being taken now. “Hey, maybe that’s why she hasn’t called you. She’s fuckin’ her doctor-supervisor whatever it’s called.”

　“Or maybe she’s been too busy patchin’ up dumbasses like yourself.”

　Your voice cut through the summer air, stunning the two men as they turned around to look at you. You leant against the sliding glass door, tank top wrinkled from being in your locker all day and jean shorts hanging low around your hips. Your hair was wild from being thrown up all day, shining in the setting sun as a six pack hung loosely in your hand.

　“Texas,” Joel said weakly, stunned to see you there.

　“Cowboy, Ranger,” You greeted respectively, smiling as you moved to stand in front of the two as you put the pack on the table. “Glad to know you two still think about me when i’m not around.”

　“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Tommy mumbled, face ruddy from being caught shit-talking. He placed his empty bottle on the table, fishing out a new one from the pack you brought. “I’ll be drinking this one at home, Doc. Thank ya.”

　You gave him a two-fingered salute as he stalked off, taking his chair and popping the cap off your beer. Joel’s mouth hung agape before he snapped to his senses, hand running over his stubbly jaw.

　“Tommy, y’know, he was just bullshittin’,” Joel mumbled, eyes trained on you, looking for any sort of indication that you were pissed. “Y’know I don’t think you’d do something like that.”

　You laughed heartily, which put Joel somewhat at ease. He melted into his chair just a bit, taking a quick swig.

　“I know, cowboy,” You teased the nickname. Your shorts rode up a bit as you shifted, and Joel fought himself not to stare. “My attending’s been up my ass this week, sticking me in the ER til i ran out of ice packs and stitchin’ thread. That’s why i’ve been so M.I.A.”

　Joel ignored your addressing of your silence, instead quirking his lips up into a teasing grin. “Meet any patients as charming as i was?”

　“Nope,” You replied, taking a swig of your own. “No one can beat the one and only Joel Miller.”

　Joel angled his body more towards yours, “Is that why you took it out of your busy schedule to come see me?”

　“Actually,” You said, wrist twirling as you stretched your soreness, “I have tomorrow off, so i thought i’d pay my dear cowboy a visit, seeing as i left him in radio silence for the past week.”

　“Yeah, darlin’, you can’t do that to an ol’ man like me,” Joel sighed, tracing the wood of his chair. He was never good at being vulnerable. “Made me think you were off, i dunno…”

　You picked up where he trailed off. “Fucking my doctor-supervisor whatever?”

　Joel shook his head, crows feet prominent as he squinted. “No, just that maybe… there was someone else.”

　“If you ever can’t call,” He continued, “You can always text me. Even though i don’t know how to text back, you can always… text me, texas.”

　“Well maybe I can make it up to you…”

　A sly smile danced on your lips as you sank from your chair and onto the balmy wood of the porch, crawling between Joel’s already spread legs. Your fingers traced the pattern on his bet buckle, doe eyes moving to stare up at him. “Sarah’s sleeping over at a friend’s house, right?”

　“Yes,” Joel’s voice came out as a broken sigh. His fingers came up to trace your jawline, rough pads leaving tingles on your smooth skin. “Y’know you don’t have to make it up to me, texas.”

　Your head cocked. “But i want to.”

　Those four simple words made Joel practically fall apart at the seams.

　You felt him relax into his chair, which you took as a signal to continue. You delicately palmed him through his tightening jeans, a groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you did so. More confident in your actions now that you knew he was enjoying himself, you unbuckled his belt and jeans, pressing kisses to his clothed member.

　Joel’s fingers danced through your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as you pulled down his boxers, cock springing up against his dark tee to meet the gentle summer breeze. You spit into your hand, stroking him before smoothly taking him into your mouth.

　Joel could stare at you all day, Texas sunset painting your skin with warm hues, your cheeks hallowed as you took him the best you could, hand stroking what you couldn’t. It took everything in him not to bust the moment you got on your knees in front of him.

　“That’s it, darlin’,” He cooed, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as you took him deeper, throat bobbing against him as you tried not to choke. “Just like that.”

　You pulled away for a breath, and he leant down and kissed you. Your palm still stroking the head of his cock as his tongue swirled with yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, the tang of precum mixed with beer.

　You pulled out from the kiss, smiling as you turned your full attention back to his cock, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth as you focused on making him cum, just as it did when you did his sutures.

　Your muscle tickled his slit as you took him once again in your mouth, wrapping around him as you continued to go down. He groaned, large hand putting gentle pressure on the back of your skull as he encouraged you to take him in farther.

　“You can do it, baby. You can take it all.”

　His encouragement spurred you further, nose coming to meet the wiry hairs at his base as he fully went down your throat. You sputtered around him, but he held you in place, hips bucking up into your mouth.

　“Fuck, darlin’, i’m cumming.”

　His warning came out broken as he moaned, hot seed travelling down your throat and leaking out the side of your mouth. You pulled off once he was milked, using your thumb to collect the fluid that escaped, licking it clean.

　You tucked him back into his boxers and laid your cheek on his jean covered thigh, smiling up at him with a lopsided grin as he fondly played with your hair, tucking it behind your ears and massaging your scalp.

　Joel couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, lips curling as he playfully rolled his eyes. “That was one hell of an apology, texas.”

[forever-rogue]

Spidey Senses

AN | You never fight with Peter, sometimes things change. Luckily, you love your Spider more than anything❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re thinking too loudly.”

You remained silent as you gently wiped away the dried blood from the gash on his shoulder. You hadn’t said much to him since he came home but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him. You always took care of him, that had never been a question. 

When you were done patching him all up, you moved to rinse out the blood from the washcloth under the hot water, watching as the water went from crimson to clear. You felt his eyes on you the entire time. 

“I don’t think you want to hear what I’m thinking, Peter,” you caught his eye in the mirror, a heavy frown on your features that caused him to hang his head with a heavy sigh. You turned to leave the bathroom, but he caught your wrist, fingers wrapping delicately onto your soft skin, “Peter. I just want to go to bed. Please.”

“Tell me,” he insisted softly as you closed your eyes and sighed heavily, “whatever it is, just let me hear it.”

“Fine,” you turned around and faced him; Peter could see that your eyes were already wet with unshed tears, “fine - you want to know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that…you need to slow down, Peter. You keep coming home hurt and it’s only been getting worse lately. I know it’s selfish to say but do you know how hard it is to see you like that? I…you have Miles - New York has Miles. He can handle himself and he can and will ask for help if he needs it. But maybe it’s time to let him do more and you can…just slow down a little. I just want to know that you’re going to come home and that you’re going to come home alive.”

“I am Spider-Man,” his lips were drawn into a harsh line as he narrowed his eyes at you, “I can’t just slow down. And I can’t just leave Miles with everything, he’s still young, and he’s still learning. This is who I am.”

“You were young once too and there was no one around to help,” you reminded him, “and you were okay. He has you and he’s a smart kid; there are things he can handle. I’m not saying that you can’t or shouldn’t be Spider-Man, Pete. I would never say that.”

“Then why are you saying anything?” he stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning lightly, “you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t get that I can’t just walk away from this.”

“You’re right,” you’d pulled back slightly from the harsh tone in his voice; he’d never talked to you in such a harsh tone before, “I don’t know what it's like. But I do know what it’s like to love you and I know how hard it is to watch you work yourself into the ground - it’s absolutely horrible. It’s just…we’re not getting younger, Pete. We’ve talked about getting married and starting our family - how are we going to do that when you’re gone so often and hurt?”

“You don’t…” he ran his hands over his tired face in exasperation, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking for. I’m fine. If it’s just because you don’t want to deal with me anymore, just say it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” you angrily swiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “I love you, Peter. I want a future with you, but I can’t have that if you’re not around for it! Maybe it’s still hard for you to accept that people care about you and only want the best for you. You take care of everyone else, but you have to let people take care of you too.”

“If I needed someone to take care of me, I would say something,” he hissed softly, “I’m fine, everything is fine. If you’ve got such a problem with it then maybe…maybe we shouldn’t be together then.”

Your mouth dropped open from the sheer shock of what he had just said. Something was going on with Peter, even if he wasn’t willing to admit to it. You gnawed on your cheek in order to keep from crying or making any sort of sound. You held up your hands in defeat and walked into the bedroom. Without even thinking about it, you went to the closet and grabbed out a duffle bag and started piling in some clothes, not paying attention to what was getting thrown into the bag. 

“I think I’m going to leave and give you space for a bit. We’re not going to figure anything out right now,” you whispered in a broken tone. Peter’s stomach lurched as he watched you pack; how did things escalate so quickly? He wanted to take it all back; he wished he would rewind the last half hour. 

“Don’t go,” he tried to stop you gently but you shook your head, “honey.”

“I don’t want to fight,” your voice was so gentle that he might not even have heard it if it was not for his enhanced senses. Peter sat down on the edge of the bed and watched you pack, feeling helpless and pathetic. He shouldn’t ever have talked to you that way. He was stupid. Stupid.

“Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I’ll see if I can stay with MJ or Harry or something. Don’t worry about it, Peter. It's fine."

He fell into silence as he watched you pack your necessities without any rhyme or reason. You really just wanted to get out of there and away from him; that killed him.

Once your bag was packed, you paused in the doorway and turned to give him one last look. The corner of your mouth pulled up into a sad little smile, but the light never reached your eyes. He gave you a small nod but neither of you said anything. 

He listened to your footsteps as you left the house and got into your car. Peter had really fucked up now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You wanna tell me why your girlfriend’s been staying with MJ for the past couple of days?” Miles turned his face away and busied himself with fiddling on the sleeve of his suit. He’d noticed that Peter had been in a mood lately and then he saw you at MJ’s when he went to pick something up from her. Miles was a smart kid and it wasn’t long before he put the pieces together. He was just curious - and concerned - about Peter. He’d never seen him down like this before and he hated it, “j-just curious.”

“Miles,” he yanked the mask off his face and leaned against the door. The two of them were on a random rooftop, keeping an eye on things despite the quiet night. He turned to face the younger man and Miles could see how tired and run down he looked, “it’s…been a lot.”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but you can talk to me Pete,” he nudged his arm and offered him a meek smile. Peter had been there for him for so long and through so many hard times he wanted him to know that he was there for him as well, “but if you ever need someone to talk to…”

“Thanks Miles,” he reached over and gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze, “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Pete,” Miles hopped onto his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm going to worry even if you say not to."

"You're a good kid," he offered his protégé a half smile.

"I'm not a kid anymore," Miles huffed in response, "and you're getting old."

He half expected a laugh to come from the older man; instead all he heard was a small huff seemingly in agreement. Peter paused for a moment before meeting Miles' eyes, "that's the problem, isn’t it?”

"Whaddaya mean?" all sorts of bad thoughts crossed his mind. What if Peter was sick? Or something bad happened? What if-

"I know I'm getting older and things are different than they used to be," he leaned his back against the wall before whispering your name, "she brought it up the other day - that I'm not getting any younger and that I should…let go a little bit. I didn't take it well and we got into an argument and I said dumb things I shouldn't have."

"She's not wrong," Miles sat down in front of Peter and shrugged, "I mean it, its the same for me too. She just wants you around more, Pete. She’s put up with your ass for so long now. Have you apologized for what happened?"

 "No," he grimaced, "I haven't. I don't know what to say. I mean, I basically told her we should break up. I didn't mean it."

"Of course you didn't," he snored in amusement, "you're disgustingly in love."

Peter smiled at that; it was true after all. You were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life, he wanted everything with you, "I just don't know what to say. Or even if she'd want to listen. Maybe she's done with me."

"You're so stupid," Miles scoffed as Peter couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him, "she's not breaking up with you. She's just waiting for you to get your head out of your ass."

"Yeah?" Peter wanted to believe Miles was right, desperately so, because he couldn't imagine a life without you. That was not a life he wanted in any way.

"Parker," the younger spider stood back up and pulled the mask over his face, "get up and let's move. You're getting too pathetic for me."

"Yeah, yeah," he watched as Miles jumped off the roof, moving to follow suit. His body was more tired and stiff today; it was like everything you had lovingly pointed out was slowly coming to light. Peter sighed softly at the thought before concealing his identity again. 

He followed after Miles, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. At the end of it all, they all came back to you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You've been moping around for days now," MJ wasn't wrong. You'd shown up at her apartment in the late night hours after your fight with Peter and she'd welcomed you without hesitation. Although only small details of what happened had come to light, Mary Jane Watson was a smart woman and had more or less put the pieces together, "are you either going to tell me the whole story or just continue being sad?"

"Shut up," you groaned playfully, throwing the big couch blanket over your face, "its nothing."

"I know you, and Pete, and you're both terrible liars," MJ pulled the blanket away, a knowing little look on her face. You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top of them before letting out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, “c’mon. What’s wrong?”

“Pete and I had a fight and it got a little heated,” you confessed, “he came home hurt and I was upset and it just…turned out all wrong. I told him that I hated seeing him hurt and that I thought maybe he should consider slowing down his…duties a little bit. He didn’t take it well.”

“I’m sure it was just the moment,” she always had this calming aura around her and you already felt a tiny bit better, “it’s not like Pete to argue or…be mean.”

“I know,” you could count the number of times the two of you had what you would consider an actual argument on one hand, “I think it just went a little far and I’d thought it was best to give him some distance. He…umm, and I know he didn’t mean it but he said that if I wasn’t okay with him being Spider-Man then maybe we should break up.”

“He actually said that?” her brow furrowed as you nodded meekly, “that’s not like him…but you know he didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” you sure hoped it was true anyway, “it’s just because I care about him, you know? We’ve talked about maybe starting to grow our family and I just wonder how he’s going to handle everything he normally does on top of having a baby. Plus, I hate seeing him get hurt and so exhausted all the time. I don’t want to take anything away from him, I just want him. I want him home and safe and cared for. And I hate the idea that he thinks I’d ever want him to stop being Spider-Man.”

“If he has any sense he’ll know that,” the redhead promised, “it might just take a minute for him to catch up. He is a man after all.”

At that you laughed, a full and true laugh that you hadn’t experienced in what felt like ever. You’d give Peter his space, but you hoped that at the end of the day he would come home to you, or rather, you would go home to him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You almost jumped out of your seat at the kitchen table when you heard the loud and heavy knocking at the door. Scrambling out of the chair you darted to the door and peeked into the hallway to see who was at the door. To your surprise, you found a very anxious Peter Parker standing there. Your heart skipped a few beats as you hesitated on whether or not to open the door.

“I know you’re there,” he said softly, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

"What are you doing here, Peter?" You kept the mostly shut, leaving just enough room for you to poke your head out. It had been almost a week since you'd seen him and he didn't look much better than when you'd left. Your expression softened, any residual anger melting away. You could never stay mad at him.

"I wanted to talk to you," he almost choked on his words as he allowed himself to steal a peek at you, "and I want you to come home."

Home. The house that was one May Parker's was now his - yours. Together you had taken the good old memories and made even more of your own. You loved it there, and you loved it even more with Peter. 

“I think we should talk before we make any decisions,” part of you wanted to jump into his arms and squeeze the life out of him and kiss him and everything, but you didn’t. Instead you opened the door a little wider and motioned for him to come inside; MJ was out but you figured she wouldn’t care.

“I love you,” he blurted out before he even stepped inside, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink. Your mouth opened in surprise but you couldn’t deny the fact that it warmed your heart. There were still bits and pieces of the boy you’d fallen in love with so many times under there. 

“I love you too, Pete,” you motioned for him to follow you as you walked into the living room, taking a seat on the couch across from him. He sat down slowly, hesitantly, trying to get a read on you. But you had your best poker face on and weren’t showing your cards in the slightest, “you know that no matter what, I’ll always love you.”

His shoulders shagged with relief at your revelation; not that he had really doubted that but sometimes reassurance was needed. He nervously played with his hands, trying to gather his words; he had so much to say but wasn’t sure if he could manage to get it all out. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and you reached over to give his hands a small squeeze. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, “just talk to me.”

“I’m sorry for how I acted that night,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I didn’t mean it when I said I thought that maybe we should break up. I don’t want to break up - I want you.”

“I hope you know that I never want anything but the very best for you,” he closed his eyes and nodded gently. Of course he knew that, you’d never given any reason to doubt that, “I never wanted to upset you, Pete.”

“I know,” he swallowed, a thick lump welling up in his throat, “I’ve always known that. It’s just that…I don’t know if I can just slow down and leave Spider-Man behind.”

“Peter,” you moved closer to him, your voice so soft and gentle that it almost made him cry, “slowing down doesn’t mean you’re leaving Spider-Man behind. You’re always going to be Spider-Man, nothing is going to change that. But it’s okay to let go a little and trust that Miles will be there for the city. And maybe some else in the future, maybe a whole gang of spiders. But you’ve been doing this for a long time, Peter. You deserve to rest too, you know.”

He looked up at you, teary-eyed and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, hugging onto him tightly; had the hug been reversed he would have probably crushed you but you wanted him to know how much you loved him, “I’m sorry.”

He melted into your arms, nuzzling his face into your neck, his breathing growing ragged. You rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. His tears soaked into the cotton of your shirt but it didn’t matter at all to you -  all you wanted was for him to know he was loved and safe. 

After a while of holding him you pulled yourself out of his tight grasp and took his face in your hands, brushing away the drying tears on his face, “hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you. I’m not forcing you to do anything, I’m just giving you my opinion of what I’m seeing. Ultimately, it’s up to you, Pete. But you have to take care of yourself too. Will you at least try that? If not for you, I’ll be selfish and ask you to do it for me.”

“I will,” he turned his face so he could place a kiss into the palm of your hand, “I do want to marry you a-and start our family. Like we’ve always talked about.”

The way your eyes lit up was enough to indicate to him that whatever decisions he made or steps he took to make that future a reality would be worth it. You were worth it. You leaned in and kissed him tenderly, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he promised, “I think you’re right about what you said and I think deep down I’ve known it too. It’s just so hard to admit it in a way.”

“It’s not saying goodbye,” you reminded him, “it’s just slowing down a little bit and taking moments for yourself.”

“I’ll work on it,” he decided it was a vow that he was going to keep it, “but if I’m ever an idiot, just remind me that I’m an idiot.”

“I have no problem with that,” you grinned excitedly, “my sweet Spider.”

“And I’m sorry,” he ran his hands up and down your sides, squeezing them gently, “really. For the things I said and how I acted. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that at you.”

“Apology accepted,” you took his hands in yours and held them tightly in turn, “thank you.”

“Will you come home?” he was nervous to ask but all he wanted was for you to be back home with him; it felt so strange and foreign without, “I-I understand if you don’t want right now but-”

“Of course,” you cut him off with a finger to his lips, “I want to come home. Plus, I think MJ will be glad to get rid of me moping around all the time. I missed you a lot, Pete.”

“I missed you so much,” he crushed you to his chest, causing you to laugh softly, “I can’t wait to have you back. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Me too, Pete,” you burrowed yourself into his warm body as much as you could. You were already home. Peter would always be your home, “I love you, Spidey. My Spidey."

That made him beam brighter than the sun, “I love you too, honey.”

[www-jungwon]

in which jake has no idea what to get his little sister ( he left it last minute ) and you're the sephora worker who got stuck with the last shift before the holidays ୨୧

tw. swearing, stranger!jake has a younger sister au, christmas mentions, yn is sooo embarrasing wc. 958

out of all the ways you’d planned to spend your friday evening before the holidays, working was not one of them. but eunchae had begged you to cover for her, and she covered your shift before thanksgiving.

you glance at your watch. only 30 minutes before closing, which means you should be able to just scroll on your phone in the back. no customers ever come in–

the click of the glass door interrupts your relief.

your first thought, of course, is fuck. who goes to a sephora 30 minutes before it closes? do they have any human decency? and your second thought is, fuck.

the guy who walks into the store looks to be in his 20s, with soft brown hair that frames his face, adorable eyes, and pink pouty lips.

he looks around, sweeping his hand through his hair–his hand is so hot–before his eyes land on you.

you’re too busy contemplating whether or not you just felt attraction to a stranger’s hand to answer him the first time, only snapping out of your thoughts when he walks closer.

“oh, um, sorry, welcome to sephora, what- i was- your hand- i mean, what were you saying?”

his eyebrows cinch briefly in confusion, but he shakes it off (thank god), “hi.” he has the most attractive australian accent you’ve ever heard. “um, i was, like, wondering if you could recommend me a gift for my little sister? i- well,” he laughs sheepishly, and you almost fall onto the ground, “i haven’t gotten her a gift yet,”

“oh! um,” you pause, still trying to focus, but he must take your silence as a bad thing.

“yeah, i feel awful, but i’m just really busy- you must think i’m a horrible brother, i mean- sorry, you don’t care.”

“no, nonono, i do c- i mean, um, yeah, i can- uh, help you..find..a gift.” your voice trails off into silence at the end of your sentence.

he either doesn’t notice the weirdness or chooses to ignore it, his eyes lighting up. “that’s so great! thank you, so much.”

“ok, um,” you start trying to think of a gift for his younger sister and then realize you’re an idiot. “oh, i kind of- uh, sorry, how old is she?” it took you 20 seconds to ask how old the person you’re recommending a gift for is.

“oh!” he laughs, “sorry,”

“no problem,” you’ve never answered anyone so fast in your entire life.

“she’s 16.”

you blink, because that seems really young for how he looks and is he younger than 20 what the fuck, but then he sees your expression.

“5 years apart.”

“oh, no, i didn’t- you didn’t have to- sorry, um, what kinds of things are you looking for, for her? like, makeup, or perfume, or ma- something else?” you literally almost said makeup twice.

“um,” he laughs, “i’m not really sure. i just know that whenever she comes back from the mall she has a sephora bag every time, so i came here in a panic.”

“ok, well is there anything specific you’d like to get her?”

he hesitates again, “sorry…is there anything you’d, like, recommend? what you’re wearing is kind of pretty- i mean, sorry, i didn’t- mean to say that-”

you breathe out a shocked laugh. “well, i’m not sure if a 16 year old would like any of the things i’m wearing, but maybe the glitter eyeshadow, or, like, the lip gloss.”

“um,” he trails off, “sure.”

“ok! do you want to come look at them, or should i just get the same ones?” your only reflex now is to ramble, in fear of him realizing how flustered he’s made you (although you’re sure he already has).

“just the same ones is fine,”

“ok, wait right here then.”

your heart is beating out of your chest as you grab the items, he called you pretty–him, the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your life–well, technically he called what you’re wearing pretty, and he only said ‘kind of,’ and you should really calm down. except your heart doesn’t seem to agree.

you arrive back at the desk, pulling a sephora bag from underneath the counter.

“oh, sorry, do you want me to wrap this for you?”

“no, that’s fine, i usually wrap things myself, like, as a tradit-i mean, sorry, you don’t care.” that’s the cutest thing ever.

he laughs, “really?”

you almost trip over the desk because there’s no fucking way you just said that out loud.

“um,” you look away, the pitch of your voice raising, “your total is 2700 dollars.”

he blinks. “two- two thousand-”

“i mean! i’m so sorry, i meant, 27 dollars…and 95 cents…” you turn away in embarrassment, and he laughs.

his laugh. his laugh is the prettiest sound, lighting up your heart even though you’re so ashamed you can’t even look over.

“sorry, i’m not- i’m not laughing at you.”

you turn back to glare at him. “yes you are.”

he grins, and you almost fall backwards again at how pretty he is.

he pulls out his wallet, and is that a black card?

“ok,” you hand him the bag, “thanks for shopping with sephora, and i hope you enjoy your holidays.”

he grabs the handle, his fingertips brushing your wrist, and you drop the bag, his hand jerking to catch it.

“s-sorry.”

“no problem,” he looks at your nametag, “y/n.”

he looks back up at you, grinning, “my sister will love these.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll tell her all about the pretty girl who chose them for me, who thinks i’m cute.”

you glitch, you actually glitch for a second, can’t move or think or anything, and then he’s gone, the door shutting.

your phone chimes with a text from eunchae.

thanks sosososso much for covering my shift im rlly sry, merry christmas

merry fucking christmas indeed.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

part of winters of us, an advent calendar : day 006

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !

enhypen tl @cutesiepatootsie @sammm5225

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in conversation.

Kabukimono was becoming more and more human by the day. Were it not for the puppet joints on his body, anyone would have thought he was a real human. However, there was one thing he still struggled with.

Conversation.

He did enjoy talking to other humans, but unfortunately, sometimes he did not follow along properly. Sometimes he did not understand when someone was joking or not. He may not understand the figurative language one might use. (You clearly remember the day he came home and asked you what Niwa meant by the statement “Kabukimono’s like an open book!” How does he have any resemblance to a book?) He may not know what to talk about, having had a very different life from a human’s, and his own interests being different from their own.

Such were the troubles of the young puppet. But you were here for him, as well as assisting him with his conversation skills. You were happy to help him, but you were also happy to have a set portion of time for just talking to your lover. And now was one such time. 

“Well, hello there, love,” you giggled as the first thing Kabukimono did when he came through the door was hug you from behind. “Welcome home.”

“I’m back,” he mumbled into your clothes as he tightened his grip around you. 

“Looks like someone’s tired,” you observed, reciprocating his embrace. “Still hard at work, I see,” you smiled at him in encouragement. Ever since you were attacked that one time, Kabukimono had taken up an interest in swords, and Niwa and Katsuragi had begun to train him every day. Though the puppet did not enjoy violence, he had come to realize that sometimes it was necessary… for protection, at least. You weren’t sure of your feelings when you found out he was beginning to realize the cold truths of this world.

You’ve even heard that he performed a sword dance. But when you asked him to perform it for you, he said that he wanted to master it with perfection before showing you the final product. You smiled and said you were rooting for him, making him blush.

“I’m going to protect you, [Name], that’s why!” Kabukimono resolutely declared as he let go of you and smiled. You found his determination cute.

“I know you will, love. I’m counting on you,” you winked. “Now, why don’t you go get changed? I’ll get the bath ready,” you patted him on the back and sent him along his way while you began to prepare the tub. A nice warm bath would surely soothe the aches and pains he had.

You and Kabukimono had been in a relationship for a long time now, and baths together had begun to become normal. It has taken a while, as showing your lover your body was a huge step in the relationship and a very intimate thing in general. Even Kabukimono understood the meaning of such a thing, initially being shy at first too. But now he had grown to love it, liking the feeling of you washing him and vice versa.

And now the two of you were together in the tub, soap and rag in hand as you cleaned him first. His long hair had been tied up in a bun, which he looked really cute in. His normally flawless skin had a few bruises on it from sword-fighting, but they would heal in no time, being a puppet and all. Kabukimono was going on about what happened during his training, but then he started recounting a conversation that only added to his speaking woes.

“When the three of us were taking a break, Niwa and Katsuragi started talking about how I reminded them of their younger selves.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You asked as you made sure his body was coated in soapy foam.

“It was! I liked hearing about their stories from the past. But then they started talking about a bunch of things I didn’t understand… and then other people started joining in and saying a lot of confusing things about things from so long ago,” Kabukimono sighed, before his voice dropped to a low tone. “And… and to make it worse, I don’t have anything nice to say about my past like the rest of them,” he confessed softly. You didn’t respond immediately, instead calming him with your soft touches.

“Maybe you need to move the conversation in another direction,” you replied thoughtfully as you washed out the soap with water.

“But how? Everyone was so happy reminiscing about their past… I don’t know how I could change it from that,” Kabukimono fell back into your chest, sloshing the water around. “It’s… awkward, I think. Is that the correct word?” You smiled and nodded, moving the wet strands from his face.

“Well, perhaps try talking about the future next time,” you suggested.

“The future?”

“The past is something we can only look back on, but the future is something we can build together. Despite the circumstances in the past and present, one can always look forward to the future. The future is changeable, at the very least.” The puppet seemed to be thinking about your statement. “Do you have anything you want to do in the future, Kabukimono? Any plans?”

“Plans?” He echoed. To be honest, Kabukimono hadn’t exactly thought about that stuff. He was already very caught up with living day by day with you. As long as he had you, he thought, he didn’t particularly care about what happened. Living life like this forever would be his ideal future. You were, quite literally, his world. However, Kabukimono knew he couldn’t say that to Niwa and the others. He’d come to learn that constantly talking about how much one loves their partner all the time wasn’t something most people did…

“I don’t think so, [Name],” Kabukimono decided on that response. “At least not yet,” he quickly added, not wanting to sound idiotic. You merely chuckled as you continued to hold him in your chest.

“Well, that’s okay. You still have lots of time to figure out what you want to do. And sometimes you don’t need to talk in a conversation. You can just enjoy yourself by listening to others. I’m sure the others would be happy to help you think about any possible plans.”

“What about you? Do you have any plans for the future?” The only thing Kabukimono knew, was that he wanted to be part of them, whatever they were.

“Me? Maybe when the time comes, I want to go see the other nations.” This made him perk up a bit. He too, wanted to see the world, after being mostly confined to his creator’s dark workshop, a lonely domain, and then the small village.

“You mean, all the places we’ve read about in the books? Mondstadt and Sumeru and Snezhnaya?”

“Yup! And Fontaine and Liyue and Natlan too!” You shared in his excitement. “We can listen to the bards play their poems and tunes, drink a cup of Sumeru’s special coffee, perhaps watch a trial in Fontaine… it would be so much fun,” you sighed dreamily, adoring the thought of such a fun vacation. You just didn’t think about the money aspect though.

“But would we be okay in Snezhnaya, though? I still don’t understand how people survive in that kind of climate.”

“Ah, you still haven’t seen snow, have you? Well, I guess we’ll have to visit Dragonspine before we go there then, to get you accustomed.” Oh, you couldn’t help but imagine the curious expression on his face once the eccentric felt a drop of snow melt on his nose.

The two of you chatted more about these plans, which probably seemed a bit unrealistic and impossible for the likes of you, but it was comforting in a way. To plan the future with the person who’d be with you for the rest of your life.

“You know, once you leave this tiny village, you’ll meet all sorts of people. No person will ever be the same as the next.”

“That’s amazing! I want to learn all about them. Do you think they’ll be as nice as the people in the village? Or are they like those bad guys?”

“That’s… hard to say. You’ll just have to learn to navigate your way through people, both good and bad.” Kabukimono nodded his head in understanding.

“And I’ll have you too, [Name]!”

“Yes, and me,” you smiled as you kissed his cheek. “But you know, you might meet someone better than me eventually-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Kabukimono interrupted you. “That’s not true. No one could ever be as wonderful as you,” the puppet interjected wholeheartedly. He really did mean that with every ounce of his being. Not even the Gods themselves could compare to you, in his honest opinion. “You’ve taught me so many different things. I don’t think I’d know anything without you! You’re the only person I want to be with. No one else, ever.” It seemed like he was pretty passionate about this.

“… That’s reassuring to hear, Kabukimono.” And then a silence overtook the bathroom. Although the two of you had been in the bath for far too long, neither of you felt like getting out, for that meant that this moment would end. Though you wanted to show your love even more.

You then kissed the Electro symbol on the back of Kabukimono’s neck, something that always made him stiffen for a few seconds no matter how many times you did it. It was a sensitive spot, both mentally and physically. A reminder of who he truly was, his unerasable past. Yet, somehow, he could hear your unspoken words. That though his past will always be a part of him, the future is his path to coming to terms with it and accepting who he is. His path to make his life to be what he wants it to be, no longer needing to worry about what a God wanted for him. 

“Regardless, I look forward to the future with you, my dearest love. I know there is much good and happiness to come, Kabukimono,” you gently wrapped your arms around his chest, lovingly holding him in your embrace. You did not comment on the tears flowing down his face, allowing him to let out his emotions freely.

The puppet never really understood his creator’s ceaseless pursuit of eternity, but now that he has you, a person to come home to every day, a person who will comfort him during his times of worry, sadness, happiness, fear, and more, a person who will have the most meaningful conversations and also idle chit-chat with him, he is beginning to understand her motive. He does want this to last forever. Even if it’s just the same routine every day, Kabukimono does not want it to end. He hopes it doesn’t.

However, no matter how one fights against it, eternity will not last forever. People are ever-changing, and everything comes to an end, eventually. Such is the nature of life, something the puppet will come to learn soon.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie TarttxFem!Reader

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader 

Content : tenderness, flirting, friends to lovers, love triangle, jealousy 

Word Count : 1.7k

Plot Summary : Out at a quirky themed bar with the team, Jamie approaches the reader to apologize for what he deems as dickish behavior. Flirty words turn to a tender moment, but the reader doesn’t realize someone else is pining after her. 

A/N : This was a fun piece to write! Still on my Jamie Tartt bs, bc I love him so much. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy it, and let me know if you would possibly want a part 2??

Music drifted through the speakers in the tiny, hokey, Southern American themed bar, and you sighed, eyeing Ted and Beard singing along jovially. You took a sip of your sickeningly sweet sweet tea, just the way you liked it. You had come along to London with Ted and Beard to continue your job as their personal assistant. Let’s face it, they needed help keeping up with everything that needed to be kept track of, and you were the one for the job. Sure, you were younger, but you had proven yourself a capable office manager back in Kansas. 

Your view of the two men was obstructed by another, admittedly more handsome man. Jamie. Your breath hitches slightly, and you cover it with another sip of your drink. You had grown a friendship with the young player, and considered him someone you could go to for anything and everything. What Jamie didn’t know, however, is that you had deep feelings for him, and care about him more than anyone else. 

“Hi Jamie!” You chirp, setting your empty drink glass on the bar. Jamie peers at you, looking at the drink you had sat down. You rarely drank alcohol, so this was a rare form for you. You follow his gaze, snorting slightly. “It’s sweet tea, no alcohol. What brings you to my dingy little corner of the bar?” You ask, stepping a bit closer to him, feigning needing to hear him better. 

“I came to apologize.” He says, his lips close enough to brush your ear. You pull back, eyebrows knitting together out of concern. 

“Apologize for what?” You ask, going through every interaction you had with him recently, coming up short. “You’re worrying me, Jamie.” You say, studying his face. 

“I feel like I’ve been a prick lately, and I’m sorry. I’ve been stressed about the Man City game, and you know me dad-”

You hold up a hand to stop him. “Jamie, you haven’t been a dick to me at all, ok? I get that you’re stressed, and your dad sucks. But you haven’t been any less kind to me than you’ve always been.” The hand you held up moves to squeeze his hand. 

“You’re too good for me, love.” He says back, lifting your hand to his and kissing your knuckles slightly. You try to pretend that your heart didn’t skip a beat, and you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Please. You flatter me.” You wave your hand away, as if to say he needn’t mention it, that’s what friends are for. 

But Jamie moves closer to you, your torsos almost pressing into each other. In this dingy bar, the low light accentuates Jamie’s handsome features, and you gaze up at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“I really mean it. Even when I was bein’ a little prick all the time when you and Ted and Beard first got to Richmond, you were nothin’ but nice to me.” He shrugs. “And I never thanked you.” 

“You really don’t have to thank me, I’m glad I forced you to be my friend.” You flash a grin at him, which makes him laugh, looking away from you slightly while he absorbs your presence. When his gaze finds yours again, it’s considerably softer. 

“Darlin’, I was putty in your hands the first time you bossed me around.” You snort incredulously, and he laughs. “I was. You got on me arse about being on time and it kicked me into gear.” 

“You were stressing Ted out, and a stressed out Ted is a stressed out assistant.” You confirm. “Jamie.” You say, looking at him. “Did you really come to seek me out just to tell me you’re glad I yelled at you the first week we met?” 

“Of course not. I needed an excuse to come talk t’you.” He murmurs, absentmindedly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You never need an excuse to be near me.” You breathe out, and you’re faintly aware of a slow, sweet country song playing in the background. You clear your throat, drawing back slightly from him, “I love this song,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to change the subject at hand. 

"You're as smooth, as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine..." the old jukebox plays, and you close your eyes a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond, he takes your hand delicately and leads you to the small dance floor. Your heart pounds, wondering what this change in Jamie is all about. Of course, the two of you were friends. But he had never been so tender with you. You were usually the one giving hugs, patting hands, brushing hair away…did he actually mean to be this sweet and touchy-feely with you? Or was he drunk? Jamie draws you close, holding one of your hands to his chest while the other wraps around your waist. He rests his head against yours and murmurs something you can’t quite hear. 

“Hm?” You manage to squeak out, a little more high pitched than you meant to be. 

“I said, I always want to be near you. I know you only think of me as a friend, and I get it, but I wanted you…”He clears his throat, “wanted you to know.” He finishes. 

You pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I only think of you as a friend?” You say softly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t.” 

Jamie knits his brows together. “You don’t?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “No! Why would you think that?” You look into his eyes again, and the sight of you making eye contact seems to instantly soften his gaze again. 

“Because you’re…well, you.” He says. “Always seemed too busy to get involved with an athlete, not to mention one that you’re friends with.” 

“I must be good at hiding the fact that I am desperately drawn to you, then.” You say, causing Jamie to smile and press a kiss to your temple. “Jamie.” You say. 

“Yea?” He responds, rocking the two of you gently to the music. 

“Kiss me.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Keeping a hold of your hand pressed to his chest, Jamie draws his face back to look at you. When he sees that you’re being serious, he presses his lips to yours. Slow, sweet, longing. You bring your free hand up to rest lightly at the back of his neck, and when he breaks the kiss, you keep it there. It’s intimate, familiar. 

Jamie pulls you close again, resting his head against yours. “I guess this makes us more’n friends, yea?” He whispers in your ear. 

You laugh, nodding along. “I guess so.” You reply, blushing happily as the two of you danced in the low light. 

“Good luck gettin’ rid of me, love.” He says playfully, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh. 

A low growl escaped the burly man’s lips as he watched Tartt slowly spin you on the dancefloor.

You seemed to be deep in conversation, and he feels Ted and Beard both looking at him. 

He sighs, setting the beer bottle in his hand down on the bar with a clink signalling the cowboy hat clad bartender to swap it out with a fresh, full one. 

“I heard a growl there, Roy.” Says Ted, who then looks over Roy to catch Beard’s attention. “What’s got this one more riled than a junkyard dog, Coach?” Beard jerks his head towards you and Jamie, swaying slightly to the music, and Ted breaks into a smile. 

“Well hey, isn’t that nice?” Ted says, earning a glare from Roy. “By that look I’m collecting that you don’t think that’s nice.” He states. 

Roy just grunts again in response, lifting his bottle to his lips, his eyes watching you. 

Beard shrugs. “Seems like you might have a crush.” 

Ted nods knowingly. “Well, I could have told you that, Beard. You seen the way Roy looks at her when she comes into our office? Like she’s the sun, I’m telling ya.” 

“Oi, shut it, you two.” Roy interjects, “and don’t pretend I can’t see the sly look the two of you are about to give each other. I’m not in denial about it.” 

Ted and Beard look at Roy, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. Rushing him would just get them a “fuck off!”. So they had learned to wait. 

“The thing is- I know she’s special. And clearly Jamie does too. Clearly we have the same taste in women.” Roy grunts as he watches Jamie pull away to look you in the eyes. He clenches his jaw, trying not to appear more jealous than he already was. “She’s just…she’s great. And I like her, okay?” 

Ted and Beard exchange another look and Ted clears his throat slightly. “Listen Roy, we know she’s great. Wouldn’t know which way was up without her, but maybe you should actually try talking to her if you want her to like you.” 

“How do you mean? I talk to her!” Roy says indignantly. 

“Grunting in response to questions she asks you isn’t considered talking to her.” Beard chimes in, Ted nodding along and pointing to his long time friend. 

Roy isn’t listening though. He’s watching Jamie lean in and kiss you, your hand reaching to cradle the back of his neck. It felt like everything stopped. He didn’t realize just how much he liked you until he saw you happy with someone else. Thinking that should be him. And that made him feel like an utter prick. 

“Fuuuuuccckkkkk.” He groaned. This was not good. 

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

+1 Chance | Short/Oneshot

In which some people get an extra life.

Tags/Warnings: pro Esports!Kook, Teenage crushes to ???, SFW, Short, Open ending, all around fluffy

Length: 2.2k Words

A/N: Yes I'm still writing on existing stuff dw. Just a random valentines day drabble. Not proofread.

—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—

You met Jungkook in summer, many years ago, when the sun was hot and your friends turned out to be nothing but situationships.

You’d been seeing the hints of their friendship not being of honest nature for a while now- but as a young girl barely about to graduate a year later, you didn’t want to be alone during your allegedly best years of your life. So you ignored the warnings one after another, always found excuses as to why their behavior was totally justifiable and normal, even if deep down you knew that you were just trying to convince yourself of that.

And then, you met him- a guy showing you honest kindness for nothing asked in return.

It was hot, sun burning, and you’d tried to get out the pool- but your small strawberry floaty had kept slipping from underneath you, making it hard to find the strength to get out of the large pool in your ‘friend’s’ backyard by yourself- when suddenly, a hand had grabbed the red item to keep it still, so you could properly hold onto it for a moment.

“Here- let me help.” He’d said, black nail polish chipped. And you’d taken on the help, too tired to really care about the fact that your friend had told you to just ignore her brother’s ‘weirdo friends’- him clearly being one of them. “Want me to help you get out? The sun is pretty hot right now, you should get out soon.” He had worried a little, and you'd nodded, pushing yourself up on the ledge after having let go of the floaty, finally having been able to escape the pool with his help, as he made sure you wouldn’t slip or end up back inside because of your strength leaving you.

You weren’t sure back then where your friends even were at that point. But somehow, it was like a moment of realization- a clear sign you couldn’t ignore any longer. “your uh.. friends went to watch a movie upstairs now, in Kate’s room..” he says, watching you sit down in the shade, drying yourself with a towel you brought.

“..thanks.” you’d mumbled. “I.. Probably should go home now.” You’d shrugged, feeling ashamed and embarrassed to ever having trusted these people at all. All they did was use your kindness and clear need for just someone to talk to and befriend- and you’d willingly accepted that, blinded by the glimpses of happiness they’d made you feel every now and then.

They knew how to manipulate you- keep you happy and clingy enough with occasional treats never given too often.

“I mean.. I can drive you. It’s late.” Jungkook had offered you. “But we’re also missing a fourth player for mario-cart right now, down in Kate’s brother’s room.” He’d jokingly told you- something that had given you hope.

“..but won’t it be weird?” You’d worried. “They don’t know me.”

“Well, everyone’s a stranger when you first meet them.” Jungkook had laughed, as he gave you a towel from close by, both of you having slowly walked back into the house. “I’m Jungkook. Just in case you didn’t know. “ He’d introduced himself, smiling like he’s the sun itself.

And little did you know that on that day, as you gave him your name, you both also set the foundation for much more than just a friendship.

—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—

“So you two have history?” Your friend asks, sitting across from you on your hotel room floor, both of you occupied with making sure your freshly applied nail polish dries well. You’re on a weekend trip for just the two of you, to take some time off the stressful life and to nourish your friendship a little.

“Not really.” You shrug. “I wouldn’t call it that. More so.. An awkward friendship when I was younger, before I moved away.” You answer, explaining your situation as to why Jeon Jungkook, one of the current top e-sports players had greeted you when you randomly ran into each other today in the hotel hallway.

“Oh, so he was the guy you had a crush on when you were younger?” She teases, never forgetting anything it seems like- not even a random confession during a childish game of never-have-I-ever. “I knew it. Damn, you were so close! Imagine your life if you’d bagged that guy.” She swoons, having made it known time and time again that she wouldn’t pass up any opportunity to ‘get her hands on those abs’ if she ever had the chance to do so. You know this is simply a joke, but still, her words do make you think.

How would your life have turned out if you got with him?

Would he have chosen to go against his parents’ advice to just keep his hobby as, well, a hobby, or would he have accepted their wishes to instead study something more steady, to earn a position in a stable company? You’ll never know- but despite that, its still interesting to just humor that idea for a moment.

“Hey, maybe there’s still tickets for the tournament!” Your friend chirps up, having noticed her nailpolish having dried by now, phone fetched and disconnected from the charger as she swipes and inputs her passcode to unlock it. “Or I’ll ask if we can have my brother’s tickets, since he didn’t go..” She mumbles, texting him most likely now.

“It’s.. I don’t know, we wanted to go out for dinner though.” You mumble, checking your polish for any imperfections. “You don’t even like gaming that much.” You also add, teasingly so. She rolls her eyes.

“Just cause I don’t play them, doesn’t mean I cant enjoy watching someone play them instead.” She argues. “Also, you can watch the game- I'll watch the pretty boy.” She winks, making you laugh with her, when she receives a text, phone falling out of her hand for a second before she can pick it up again. “Oh- he said we can have them!” She chirps up, clearly excited. “As far as I know they’re free seating- so if we’re early, we get to choose where we wanna sit and watch.” She explains, texting him some more while you contemplate.

This is dumb. He probably has a girlfriend, a life of his own, hell- you have a life of your own now, far away from him. There’s no reason for you to try and test your luck like this, but you’re also a fan of the game he’s competing at. So, maybe..

Yeah. You’re totally not doing it for him. You’re just going to watch the gameplay.

What’s the worst that can happen?

—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—

It’s not even the next day yet, but you already see him again.

On your way down to the reception desk, mission clear in your head to muster up the courage to ask for another pillow instead of sleeping uncomfortably like this, you’ve barely exited your room when your eyes meet again in the hallway.

He says your name. His voice has gotten deeper after all those years, you notice. You nod, and he smiles, the turn of the corner of his mouth pulling your attention to the twin piercing he has placed there, silver rings piercing right through his skin. “It’s been a while.” He offers, hands in the pockets of his pants. He must’ve been out with his teammates, smell of faint cigarette smoke clinging to him as you walk a bit closer.

You nod. You feel awkward, all dressed down like this, having gotten reader for bed hours before, trying to find sleep without the extra comfort another pillow would bring you. “how are you?” He asks, and again, you nod.

You hate this. You’re still terrible at talking to people. “I’m good.. and you?” You answer, avoiding eye contact. Of course he’s obviously doing good- great even, about to bag thousands of prize money tomorrow when he’ll surely win the tournament.

“Good. Great even, now that I.. anyways, do.. What’re you doing here?” He wonders, clearly happy to initiate smalltalk. “vacation or work?”

“vacation. With.. a friend of mine.” You tell him, toes digging onto the fluffy slippers you brought on this trip for yourself. “like.. a girl’s weekend.” You explain, and he nods.

“Yeah.. guess you gotta leave the men at home sometimes to unwind.” He jokes.

“hmhm. Well, she had to- I don’t, you know, have anyone, so I’m flexible.” You tell him, and that seems to make his eyes sparkle almost like you’ve challenged him. Which you didn’t- so why does he look so energized now.

“Cool! I mean.. yeah.” He nods to himself, before he seems to realize something. “Oh hey, if I interrupted you or I’m holding you in a conversation, don’t mind me! You look like you were on your way somewhere-“ he starts, pointing down the gall to the elevator. “But uh.. if you wanna go down, there’s a bunch of drunks down in the lobby, just a warning.” He offers, making you deflate.

“Oh.” You hum, defeated. Well, maybe you cal roll up your sweater or something.

“If you.. I can go with you, if you’d like.” He offers. "I’m still pretty fit. Still boxing. So.. I can be your meat-shield basically.” He jokes, making you giggle, his eyes brightening up at the sound and sight.

“I.. that would be nice, actually.” You accept, and he happily walks next to you into the elevator at that, faint music drowning our the heavy buzzing of the mechanics.

“so uh.. how’s your family?” He wonders. “is your dad still making your mom’s life harder every day?” He jokes, but you shake your head, smiling fondly.

“No, they surprisingly settled these days. They’re.. on a trip themselves. For valentines day and all.” You explain, and Jungkook nods.

“romantic.” He teases, and you giggle, nodding along.

“they.. ask about you a lot. It’s kind of funny.” You tell him. “I can only ever tell them what I see online though.” You shrug.

“You.. know what I do?” he wonders, and your eyes widen as you look at him.

“are you kidding me? You’re the top player at my favorite game.” You say, making his expression moron into one of both wonder- and slightly bashful.

“I uh.. didn’t know. Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” He laughs it off. “I.. have a tournament actually, tomorrow.”

“I know.” You nod, elevator doors opening. “I’ll be there. With my friend.” You say.

“Oh wow.” He chuckles. “I better win, in that case.” He.. flirts? As he walks towards the reception desk with you- drunk group of friends luckily only being loud, but not aggressive. “where will you sit?”

“its.. free seating, so I’m not sure.” You mumble, before you ask the lady at the desk for another pillow for your room number.

“I could probably reserve some good seats.” He says, and you smile.

“You really don’t have to.” You reassure him, when he suddenly asks the lady for something else as well- a flower from the last bouquet left over from the hotel’s valentines sale for the guests. She happily gives it to him, free of charge, before she tells you that housekeeping will bring you the pillow shortly, before she resumes her own work again, letting you and Jungkook walk back into the elevator.

You’re not sure what you think of this- but junkook has liked flowers back then, so why wouldn’t he still like flowers now. Or, maybe he’s staying here with his girlfriend, and he’s just wanting to gift her something on his way back to her- it’s valentines day, after all.

“I’ll.. can I have your number? To text you where you’ll sit tomorrow.” He asks, and you nod, walking into your room to fetch your phone, showing your number for him to type into his own, screen cracked a little in one corner. “awesome. Now then, the only thing I gotta do is..-“ he starts, slipping the phone in the pocket of his pants. “-ask you to be my valentine?” He wonders, holding the flower out to you. "Don’t have to say yes. I’m a big boy, I can take rejection.” He jokes.

“Can I.. ask why?” You wonder, and he grins, shrugging.

“I feel like, maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.” He simply answers. “..giving me a second chance, to ask you out for real this time.”

“wait.. you mean-“ you stammer, and he nods.

“I had.. kind of a huge crush on you back then. And, seeing you again.. it all just.. flared up again. Exactly the same way.” He confesses. “I’m not.. asking for something big. Just one date- and we’ll go from there.” He asks, and you slowly take the flower from him, smile on your lips as you think about his words. Fate, huh? A universe’s second chance? What are the chances?

You decide you don’t care.

“okay.” You answer him,-

And his eyes sparkle brightly, while he smiles at you like you’re the sun.

—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—i

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Hannibal (TV)/Silence of the Lambs, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; parenthood, kidnapping, mentions of violence. basically don’t tell these guys you want a kid ig

♡notes; another sparse selection but i don’t think Billy Lenz is allowed within 100 yards of a school so it is what it is

also I hate how much I’m starting to love Bo oh my god

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Vincent Sinclair

> he’s a nurturing man- to his brothers and you

> hell he babies Jonesy too

> even so, he’s shocked when you mention offhandedly that he’d make a good father

> he denies it vehemently

> even as the golden child he grew up in hell

> no way he’d know how to do any of it right

> but you just gently laugh and shake your head, insisting but not pressing it

> it makes him think

> and think and think

> he didn’t know much about kids, but you’d be a great parent

> and you wouldn’t lie to him- maybe he’d be at least an okay father

> families don’t come through often

> and when they do, Lester leaves them be

> if they ever get to Ambrose on their own, the town stays off- none of the Sinclairs want anything to do with harming children

> but mistakes happen, and Bo is freaking out

> a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes was sleeping in the back of a car while he took care of her parents, and he didn’t realize until far to late

> she’s maybe 3, and awfully scared and quiet- but when they bring her in the house she walks right up to you and Vincent

> she hugs your leg and finally smiles when Vincent kneels down to show her that Jonesy is a nice dog

> Bo is in shock when you volunteer to adopt her, but Vincent is in quick agreement

> she’s nonverbal, but you look through her family’s things to find out her name - Lilly Henson, or something to that affect .

> Lilly Sinclair has a much better ring to it anyways, doesn’t it?

Bo Sinclair

> he’s the type that if you mention that you want a kid to this man, he asks what color

> he is endlessly devoted to you

> and while he never wanted a kid before, he’s always so insistent you make him a better man

> so some snot nosed brats would complete the picture perfectly

> he’s not super serious about it, not really

> you have plenty of time to plan for a family

> and he’s the type to want biological children if possible- he’s so used to white picket fence suburbia-type ideals

> when a car pulls up to the gas station, he stops when he sees the infant car seat in the back

> he’s about to tell the parents to move along- but then he sees the second matching one

> something - probably his overinflated self worth - tells him he’d be a much better father to twins that these chucklefucks

> and you want a kid anyways! would two be much better

> they’re not identical- he’s not not disappointed by the fact, but they’re still adorable

> a boy and a girl a bit over a year, with big brown eyes and infectious giggles

> he’s beyond proud when he strides in with them

> “daddy’s home!”

> he thinks you might actually kill him this time

> but then Charlotte - the girl based on what’s embroidered on her blankie, reaches for you and you melt

> you’re still scolding him as you happily take Theodore too

> but he knows you’re beyond thrilled

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s always wanted a successor

> quite frankly it never had to be his child - or a child at all

> he thought about taking younger serial killers in the making under his wing more than once

> to teach them the art of culinary cannibalism and the finer points of flaying people

> but it’s far too dangerous - especially with you around

> you’re the one thing that trumps his egomania

> so he lets it be for the time being

> but one day, he takes on a special case at work

> a young boy who recently lost his parents very violently

> he’s in kindergarten, and expresses most everything through his rather advanced drawings

> you don’t interact with his patients- even though he works from home you’re pretty skilled at dodging them

> but on the way out that afternoon the little boy- Peter, his name is, runs out before his social worker and smack dab into you

> she apologizes on his half profusely but you’re so sweet with the boy

> you pick up his dropped drawings and comfort him- he’s quite upset he may have hurt or angered you

> he gives you a huge hug and Hannibal can see the fond, parental look on your face

> after that it’s quite simple to draw up the paperwork

> he’s already in foster care, and it only takes a few false documents to make the courts think that Hannibal’s custody is the best place for little Peter

> you learned long ago that it’s best not to question how or why Hannibal does something when he gets like that

> and either way you’re content with your new little family

[throneofsmut]

BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 9

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

A / N: I’m back !! sorry for being so inconsistent and inactive but i hope you guys like this part.

I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep, but it couldn’t have been for long because from the window in Eris’s cabin — our cabin — I could still see the night sky and lit bonfires in the distance. We were still in the same position we were in when we had finished fucking.

Me on top of him with him still inside of me.

Eris still had a hand on my hip while the other rubbed lazily across my back.

I slowly push up, my hands braced against his muscular chest, “How long was I asleep ?” I whispered, my voice still thick with sleep.

He didn’t respond, he only gave me a small smile and continued to rub his hands along my thighs.

“How long was I asleep ?” I asked again, and noticed a hint of red in his cheeks. “You were asleep too ?”

Eris let out a small laugh, “Until you started squirming trying to get more comfortable.”

I let out a small laugh of my own, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up before I go back.” Something like anger and pain seemed to flash across his face, his eyes, at the last four words he spoke.

“Before you go back… Under the Mountain ?”

He nods. Once. Tightly.

My hands cupped his face, making him meet my gaze, “I don’t want to sleep then. Let’s spend our last night together.”

Those amber eyes, his eyes, searched my face, for what I don’t know, but then he was kissing me. Wordlessly he pulled away and then he was carrying me to the bathroom and sat me atop the counter.

I watched him as he filled the tub with water, added soaps and oils to it. Grabbed bottles of hair products and towels before setting them on the chair near the tub then carrying me to the tub and placing me in it. He followed in right after and silently washed my hair and my skin. Placing soft kisses as he went and I did the same for him. When we were done he dried us off and then we dressed.

I was waiting for him to finish lacing up his boots and he caught me yawning, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, little flame ?”

“I’m sure,” I nod. “Do you have any food here ? I’m starving.”

“No, but, there is an orange grove and grape vineyard a mile back.”

I arch a brow, “What kind of grapes ?”

“Green.”

“Autumn or Spring ?”

“Autumn,” he smirks, “why ?”

“I haven’t had Autumn grapes in years and they’re my favorite.”

He laughs softly, “So, no, oranges ?”

“I mean, I love oranges too but, I don’t want to peel them. I hate how my hands feel after. And Autumn grapes are always crispy.”

He walks up to me, placing his hands on my hips, “I’ll peel them for you.”

But before I get a chance to respond he leads me out of the cabin and the crisp autumn night breeze hits my face. Eris puts his arm over my shoulders, tucking me into him and my hand fists the back of his tunic as if he’ll vanish. As he leads us down a trail, towards the vineyard and grove.

“So your favorite color is blue and autumn green grapes are your favorite, you love oranges. . . What else ?” Eris asks.

“What do you want to know ?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“I don’t know anything about you. So how about a question for a question ?” I offer.

“All right, fair enough.”

“What’s your favorite color ?” I ask.

“Red.”

I snort, “That’s not surprising.”

“Family ?” He asks.

“My mother died when I was young and my father doesn’t know about me… at least he acts like he doesn’t.”

My mate leans down and places another kiss atop my head, “I’m sorry, little flame.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “Anyways, what about you ?”

“My mother and father are both still alive. No sisters. Six younger brothers, but two died years ago.”

“Lucien told me about that. Where you. . . one of the ones—“

“One of the ones holding him down while his lover was executed ? No.” He looks over his shoulder, “Who do you think got word to Tamlin and slowed down my other brothers ?”

“Does Lucien know ?” I ask.

“If he does, he doesn’t show it.” He answers. “What about you, any siblings ?”

“No,” I breathe. “But, after my mother died, another family took me in and they already had three daughters. They became my family or the closest thing I had to one. The three of them were like my sisters — they are my sisters.”

“Older or younger ?”

“All older.”

“Are you close with them ?”

“Uh, no, not really. Just with the youngest one out of the three. The two oldest ones were closer to each other and the third one and I were closer.” I confess and some part of me wishes I had tried more to get along with Nesta and Elain. To get closer. Since I might not have the chance to later. “What about you and your brothers ? Are you close with them ?”

Eris lets out a bitter laugh, “Gods, no. When we were younger I tried to protect them from our father, before he could turn them into cruel, sick bastards—“

“Like him ?”

“Like him,” he nods. “Then when we got older, I had to keep them in check,” another bitter laugh, “while playing the cold, cruel and calculating heir of autumn.” He stops. Then moves to stand in front of me and struggles to meet my eyes. “You’re going to hear things about me, if you haven’t already and—“

“I’ve done things too,” I tell him. “And I’m going to do more.”

I’ve already made my peace with doing whatever I have to do to kill Amarantha and those who get in my way. For my mother, for the summer court faerie, for Lucien and anyone else she’s hurt. And for me.

“What are you talking about. . . what have you done ?” His large hands cup my face, tilting my head up, making me look at him. “Talk to me. . . please,” he says. Softly. Gently.

“We become monsters, to survive monsters.” I say deathly soft and Eris’s brows furrow as he searches my face for more answers, but it’s too late. I’ve already put on the cold mask I’ve worn for years.

“What happened ? What have you d— What are you going to do ?”

I shook my head, “I won’t ask you what you’ve done or what you’ll do and neither should you.” I hardly recognize my own voice. Except for the coldness of it. The sharpness of it.

Eris let go of my face and took one, two, three steps back. Away from me. Then he runs his right hand through his hair before covering his mouth with the back of it. He lets out a shaky breath, “Do you not trust me — did I do something ?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I look at him. Really look at him and realize that his hands are shaking, his heart is racing and his breathing is uneven.

He’s nervous. Scared.

Scared of what I’ll say and the fact that I haven’t said anything is only making it worse. I blink once and I can see myself through his eyes. My head is cocked in a way that is more animalistic than anything. Like a predator sizing up its prey. I blinked again and I was looking at him through my own eyes again.

I shook my head, “No, Eris, you haven’t done anything.” I tell him, hoping to soothe his nerves.

He let out a sharp breath. His hands have stopped shaking and his heart isn’t racing anymore. “So you don’t trust me.” He’s says it more to himself than to me.

“I never said that.”

“Then what is it ?” He says feigning nonchalance, but I can still hear the doubt lacing in his words.

“There’s no point in me telling you, when you’ll see it,” I admit.

He prowled closer to me until we were chest to chest, needing to crane my neck back to look him in the eyes because of our height difference. I forgot how tall he was — how powerfully built he was.

A muscle in his jaw feathered before he spoke, “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re talking about, then tell me something real.” Not a request, a command.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. His brows furrowed and his eyes widened, that wasn’t at all what he had expected me to say. “I’m scared of how you’ll feel when you find out about the real me. . . When you see the real me. Who I am.”

It’s no secret that none of the seven courts are really friends, but my mother used to tell me about how feared she and her brother were. Her twin. He is the most powerful High Lord in history and she is — was — the most powerful female in history. And how feared their inner circle was.

My mother was second in command to her brother. His third in command is more powerful than them but her power is different. Otherworldly. Their cousin is his fourth and she has the power of truth. The general of his armies and his spymaster are the most powerful Illyrian’s in history. Each needing seven siphons to hold the raw killing power they possess. And his spymasters is a shadowsinger.

I inherited my mother and her brother’s magic and then some from my father, but I had also been born with fire. I used to ask her why I had fire and she didn’t, if she was from Night and my father wasn’t from Autumn or the Day Court. And she would simply kiss the palms of my hands and say, “Is the sun not a star ?”

She always told me I was blessed by the Mother and the Cauldron for having so much power. But, as I got older I realized it was because I’d been born with a target on my back. Which was why she trained me the way she did.

I let out a few sharp breaths, trying to will away the tears pooling in my eyes, to no avail. “When you find out what I did and. . . what I’m going to do. What I can do. What I will do.” My throat working as I spoke my last fear, eyes squeezing shut, “I’m scared that you’ll die because of me. Just for being my mate. . . and I won’t be able to do anything about. ”

My eyes are still squeezed shut as I felt Eris gently, so gently, tuck my hair behind my now rounded ears. His fingers tracing the rounded curve of them so softly. And it’s all I can do to not flinch beneath his touch.

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he whispered, “The real you. . . the real you, that has pointed ears.”

Not exactly a question, but I nodded my head anyways.

“Can you show me ?” His voice was gentle like his touch had been moments ago.

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

“Can you tell me, why ?”

“It’s a blood spell.” My voice was barely audible, I only knew he heard me because of how close we were. “My mother made it so that only someone on her side of the family could undo it. I can’t do it.” I left out the part that there’s only one person alive in the entire world that could do and I don’t even know if he would do it. “I can show you my true form for a couple seconds, but the p—“ My voice trailed off as I remembered how much pain I’d felt when I showed myself to Raihn. How it intensified until it was all I knew. Until it nearly killed me.

“But, what ?”

Eris’s voice brought me back to the present and I shook my head, “But, the pain I’d feel, would be all consuming. Searing. So hot that it felt impossibly cold, until it killed me. . . I’ve only done it once before and was surprised I survived. I doubt I would survive it a second time.”

The only reason I survived then was because Raihn had channeled some of his power into me. And continued throughout the next couple days. Since the blood spell suppresses my powers. I can only feel that I still have my magic, but I can’t access it. Except for one, but it’s not much. It feels like a drop instead of a vast ocean like it used to.

“Why are you scared of how I’ll feel when I see you ? Did the blood spell affect your physical appearance ?” Eris asked.

I nodded my head, “I still look the same, but my coloring is different. This isn’t my true hair or eye color.”

“Do your sisters know ?”

“No,” I breathed, “and they’d probably hate me. For lying and being fae.”

“Look at me.”

I shook my head.

“Little flame, look at me.” His voice a plea and prayer.

So I did.

“Because you told me something real, I’ll tell you something real,” his throat bobbing, “You're capable of hurting me in ways I'm not sure you've even begun to fathom. I might be skilled enough to land a death blow, but you alone have the power to fucking destroy me. And I would let you because you are everything to me. Do you understand that ?” His voice raw with emotion.

“Yes,” I said softly.

I didn’t even realize I had started crying again until Eris was wiping them away. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, you’re my mate. Mine.”

I had no more words for him — my eyes saying what I couldn’t put into words. A new sort of vulnerability as I laid myself bare for him. Eris. My mate. Mine. A challenge thrown down. Waiting to see how he would react.

Eris Pov:

How many others had run from this part of her, not being able to handle all that she is ? I hated them all merely for putting the question in her eyes.

I love her as she is. All that she is.

I wouldn’t run from her. No, I only met her stare as I let her see all of me too. Her throat bobbed before her lips curved up into a smirk. My eyes falling to her lips, tracking the movement and then back up to her eyes. Without even thinking my hands settled on her hips, her cheeks flushing from my touch, her pupils flaring.

I see you, I silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it.

Likewise, her smirk seemed to say.

Dragging my eyes from the smirk that made the floor a little uneven. I gripped her hips a little tighter with hands that were surprisingly shaky. Then my mouth was on hers. Claiming her.

I begrudgingly pulled away from her when my stomach growled, quietly cursing myself while she laughed at me. “Come on, let’s get the grapes and oranges.”

****

Eris winnowed us back to the cabin, his arms full of grapes and oranges along two plates piled with meat and sauce and bread, and a bottle of red sparkling wine — he said he would hold it all.

Eris was hesitant to take it, but Bayne — the owner of the vineyard and orange grove — insisted. I was the one that had knocked on his door. The last time I saw him I was eight years old, yet something like recognition flared in his eyes when he took me in. It took him a moment to respond when I asked if I could pick some grapes and oranges, but he said yes and went back into his home. So Eris and I went about picking them when he came out with two plates in hand. Startling when he saw I was with Eris.

It didn’t help that, Eris immediately stood between us. I walked around him, to hand Bayne a few gold coins — more than what was needed — but he had always been kind to me and my mother. He politely declined and insisted we take the plates. I inclined my head in thanks and took them, Eris’s voice cut between our silent interaction. “Why ?” he asked.

Bayne never took his eyes off me as he said sadly, “She reminds me of someone. . . of an old friend who passed a few years ago.” An old friend — my mother.

Eris didn’t say anything else as I handed him the two plates I was holding and placed the gold coins in his hand and thanked him again. Then Eris winnowed us back to the cabin. And we ate our plates in comfortable silence. I sat atop the kitchen counter and he remained standing, next to me.

He finished his plate before I did and kept true to his word. He silently went about rinsing the grapes and peeling oranges before plating them between us. And once I finished my plate, he took it and washed, before pushing the plate of fruit closer to me. I moaned at the taste of them and he laughed softly. “Good ?”

“So fucking good.” I said around a mouthful of orange, which earned me another mirthy laugh from him.

****

We had moved back to the bedroom, my head settled on his chest, his hand playing with my hair as the other rested on the small of my back.

I huffed as I looked out the window.

“What’s wrong, little flame,” he asked.

“It’s almost dawn,” I grumbled. Which meant it was almost time for him to go back Under the Mountain.

He kissed the top of my head, “We’ll see each other again. Soon.” He promised.

And he had no idea how true that was.

But, right now, I wanted him. No, needed him. I needed him. To feel him, incase I wouldn’t have the chance to again.

He didn’t stop me as I moved to straddle him. Not as I pulled at his tunic — a silent request for him to take it off, and he did. He didn’t say anything as I leaned down, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest. The only thing I heard was his heart pounding, when my fingers lightly skimmed where his skin and his pants met. I wasn’t sure he was breathing and just to see what he’d do, I palmed him through his pants.

Eris barked a curse.

I laughed quietly, kissing his chest again, and then swirled my tongue around his nipple, teasingly, letting him know what was to come.

And when I laid my palm flat on him again, “You’re mine,” I breathed.

Eris’s breathing started again, jagged and savage. Feral. I flicked open the top button of his pants. “I’m yours,” he ground out.

Another button popped free. Then the third, but then I felt him before I heard him.

Raihn.

“It’s nearly dawn,” his deep gruff voice sounded in my head. He was pissed and now so was I.

I growled and Eris just stared at me confused. I shook my head him and before I could tell Raihn to go back to the Manor, his growl shook the entire cabin and seconds later he had broke down the door and was in the bedroom. Snarling and baring his teeth.

It was all Eris could do to put me between him and the wall. His body a solid wall between me and the white wolf. Raihn’s eyes fell to the dagger Eris was clutching, his knuckles white from the grip. Then the wolf’s eyes tracked the hand Eris had placed on me protectively. Raihn cocked his head, his snout twitching once, twice, scenting us. Scenting Eris and he growled, baring his teeth in a snarl.

Eris readied himself for the massive wolf’s attack, but before he could do anything I snarled at Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you !” Raihn only growled in response.

Trying to make my way to him, but Eris was holding me back, Raihn noticed and took a step forward. He snapped at Eris in warning and Eris to his credit didn’t falter, he only readjusted his grip on his dagger. I rolled my eyes, pushing past Eris, standing right in front of Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, “I told you to stay in my room, you know it’s not safe out here for you. They’re hunting you !”

He let out an annoyed huff.

“And you can’t just barge in like that, where are your manners ?” I scolded him like a mother would a child — my hands now on my hips — and he whined. I turned back at Eris, shaking my head at Raihn, and he was just gaping at me.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 10 part 11

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis @thescooby-gang @annblvd @poetryinshadows @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @esposadomd @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @glaciuswduo @laceandsuch @hnyclover @spookyboogyuniverse @kennedy-brooke @minaethrym @lili-flower03

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[sweeterthansammy]

ONLY YOU - JON SNOW

Summary: After being accused of wanting another woman instead of you, he makes it his mission to let you know that he wants you…and only you.

Warnings: This is all over the place but it makes sense in my head :D. Completely made up the last name for the sake of the fic. Now for real warnings - One (1) quickie, unprotected sex (be smart y’all), vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), face-sitting., love-making ig, overstimulation, basically porn, very light touch of breeding, one (1) use of the word ‘whore’, marriage (yes that is a fucking warning but it’s not that complicated in this fic), feelings (ew), mild language, cheating accusations, mentions of not being able to conceive, one (1) very brief mention of Jon crying (yes this is also a warning)

A/N: Hello my darlings! My laptop is still being repaired so please bear with my shitty typing as well as possible typos. I just recently started watching GOT and I HAD to jump on the opportunity the second I laid my eyes on Jon…… considering that I’m only a few episodes in, I did not follow anything too canon considering that I don’t want the details to be too off.

Word count: 4.2k+ (this is the most I’ve written in forever LMAO)

not my gif!

Daenerys Targaryen. The most wanted woman of all in any of the kingdoms. She was undoubtedly envied by many, you included. You were a very close runner-up, but it didn’t help much considering your family’s constant comparisons between you and the younger girl.

You were nearing twenty-one and you had yet to be set for marriage, your parents frowning upon the idea that you wanted different things in life. Sure it might be nice to carry on your family’s legacy and become the heir, being their oldest of seven girls, but it wouldn’t be all that nice when you’d get threatened by others to give up your title as queen.

You’d met Jon when your parents had gone over to the Stark residence for a ceremonial dinner. He’d been out front, swording away at a dummy. You removed the flask from the garter that sat under your dress, sipping the bitter whiskey. You’d leaned yourself up against the wall, eyeing the dark-haired alpha as he blabbered away to his uncle Benjen.

He stole several glances, his tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek when he realized your gown parted more and more to allow some air under the fabric.

“I shall go with you when you leave, Uncle Benjen. My father will say yes - ask him!”

Trying your best to not eavesdrop much more, you began to wander off. His uncle couldn’t stop the perverse words that fell from his tongue. You glanced over your shoulder, shooting the older male a wink, careful as to not show too much of your face as he’d only seen your silhouette. He took off, heading into the castle to rejoice with his brother and several lords, leaving you in the presence of the young man.

“Tisn’t quite the scene for a lady. You should be inside with everyone else.”

“Nor is it the scene for the son of a lor-“

“Lady Stark requested that I didn’t join them for the dinner.”

“Oh, right. Jon Snow, is it? The bastard?”

You finally turned to face him, his eyes widening in their sockets.

“Honorable Y/N Burke. You shan’t be in the presence of an unwed man, young lady.”

“There are many things that I ‘shan’t’ do,” you mimicked air quotes. “But, you’ll find very soon, bastard, that I don’t care much about the things that I shan’t do.”

He eyed you for a moment longer, his sword firm at his side. You had yet to conceal your flask, offering him a sip before taking one of your own.

You watched as his eyes glanced over the way your lips encircled the opening, a drop of the liquid dribbling down the side of your mouth before your finger swiped at it, sucking the digit into your mouth.

Then he lost it.

He pounced on you in just a matter of seconds, groaning as your tongue mingled with his. The exchange of tastes - the whiskey warm with a mix of whatever sweetness you’d treated yourself to beforehand, and his bare whiskey. You could almost taste his musk but it must’ve only been the way his scent overstimulated each of your senses.

His hands, which had made themselves up to your face, dropped to your waist, pulling your lower halves together as he felt up on your body.

“Goodness- we can’t get caught, Snow.”

Your breath picked up into heavy pants, his fingers dipping into your undergarments as he swallowed all of your moans.

“Just be quiet, darling, and they won’t know a thing.”

He teased your clit with a grin plastered to his face. He yanked your underpants down, mimicking the move with his own clothing.

“Jon-“

“Sh, sweetheart-“

He hoisted you into his arms, not hesitating to plow himself into you. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to fight each moan from leaving your mouth. A high-pitched squeal sounded from your throat as his hand accompanied his rather vulgar pace.

“Fuck-“

“Remember what I told you, sweetheart,” he grunted into your ear.

His arm circled itself around your waist, stabilizing your squirming figure. His head tipped back, a groan sounding from his throat before his forehead met yours.

“Jon, fu-“

Before you could finish your statement, you felt the pulsating of his cock, his seed dribbling down your legs. He fucked you through his high, dropping his thumb to your cunt so you’d finally come around his cock. Your body shuddered as your climax hit you, your hands clutching onto him for dear life.

He pulled his garments back up once he’d placed you on the makeshift railing. You remained silent for just a bit longer until you broke said silence.

“Look, Jon- Lord…Snow, I’ve heard of your desire to leave this land and become a Night Watcher. I just….”

For once you had not much to say despite wanting to spew so much out.

“I know of your oath and the things you must accede to.”

“What are you getting at, Hon Burke?”

“If…if I am to carry your child, and I know the chances are slim because it’s only been once-“

“As you said, it’s only been one time. Don’t speak nonsense. This never happened. Are we clear?”

“But-“

He turned to you, helping you redress yourself with a sigh. He couldn’t miss the way your demeanor faltered just a tad, his own softening drastically.

“It’d be in both of our best interests to pretend that this never happened, sweetheart.”

And so you did as he said.

Despite wanting oh so badly to miss your menstrual cycle that month, it’d worked out for the best - you’d told yourself. You’d only known the lad for a few minutes tops but he remained on your mind for years following.

Upon his leave, you were devastated. Watching with teary eyes as the man you knew you wanted so much more with was leaving. Your mother watched as you quickly wiped a tear from under your eye, sniffling quietly.

Two years down the line, it was nearly impossible to avoid the fact that you’d have to step up and become queen rather soon.

“Mother, I am not stepping into that role until I get a proper proposal!”

“You’re too picky, Y/N! We’ve been waiting - for years, we’ve been waiting. You’ve gotten thirty proposals, all of which you’d turned down for the darndest reasons!”

“I’m not picky! I am awaiting someone that will settle for more than what the stupidity of this society offers. My king-“

“Has arrived.”

That voice. His voice.

Immediate tears were brought to your eyes as you found Jon standing in your doorway.

“J- Sir Jon Snow. Am I dreaming?”

“No, m’lady. ‘Tis truly I.”

You resisted every fiber in your body that urged you to jump into his arms and snog him right in front of your mother.

“Lady Burke,” he bowed.

Your mother offered a tight-lipped smile before leaving the pair of you to catch up.

“I didn’t think I’d see you for another ten years.”

Your smaller arms pulled his body into yours, embracing his warmth despite his cool armor.

“Jon,” you hummed, nuzzling yourself further into him.

“Y/N,” he copied your actions, smoothing his hand over your hair. “I couldn’t do without you for much longer.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe considering how quick you left after fucking me,” you quipped.

“I’m sorry, darling. I truly am.”

You met his lips in a soft kiss, your fists clenching around his coat.

“How’ve you been holding up?”

“I’ve just been dandy.”

Lies.

“Sort of glad I didn't have your child.”

Lies.

“Tried to get back out there after you left.”

Lies.

His arm tightened around you at the last of your statements.

“Tell me, Hon. Am I marrying a whore?”

“‘Marrying a whore’?” you were flabbergasted. “One - never call me a whore again. Two - who said we are to be wed?”

“Me.”

The simplicity of his statement baffled your mind.

“You? My father would never let me-“

“Marry a bastard. But, darling, as I remember, you’d told me something two years ago. You don’t care about the things you shan’t do and that shall include claiming me to be your king.”

“Well, why do you wait, my lord?”

He held you tight to his chest with his pupils blown.

“Tell me you’ll be mine, sweetheart. This is my proposal to you. We shall leave this land and rule our own kingdom together.”

“I do accept your proposal, my dearest, but I believe it isn’t that easy.”

“Nothing is easy, especially this. If your father is to deny our marriage and your leave, we shall go nonetheless.”

You grinned up at him, shaking your head as you laid your head on his chest.

“Then I shall marry you, my king.”

As expected, your parents didn’t have the merriest of a reaction when it came to notifying them of your leave with the man who’d notoriously been known to be a bastard. They were disappointed you wouldn’t be running their kingdom but they were relieved to see that you were finally off to be married. They hesitantly approved of the young man’s proposal, sending you off with him.

On your ride to your new castle, miles from your parents’ kingdom, you couldn’t help but question your husband-to-be.

“Why did you leave?”

He eyed you.

“The Night Watch. Why did you leave, Jon?”

“I know my status as a bastard would’ve done me well over there but I couldn’t take it. Being away from you, my family. It was eating at me day and night.”

“Then…why’d it take you two years to come back?”

“I didn’t know how to tell them I’d be leaving. It took me a long time to muster up the courage for that.”

You allowed yourself to remain silent until he placed a hand on top of yours.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I regret ever setting myself up to be away for the rest of my life, but now I’ve got you and that’s all that I need.”

“You sure have a way with words, don’t you?”

His lip quirked into a gentle smile, his hand squeezing yours with tenderness.

In just a couple of weeks, you were settled into your new home with your husband. It was now time to host several dinners and welcome all to your land. You were beyond ecstatic but it wasn’t until the guests actually arrived that you became wary of those around you.

Daenerys had made quite the entrance into your home, every one entirely forgetting that you existed for a moment. The Khal trailed behind her, offering head nods to those that personally greeted him.

Your heart stammered in your chest beyond your control. You isolated yourself from the crowd, tears cascading down your cheeks as your breathing grew jagged.

Your husband seemed to be infatuated with the platinum blonde-haired girl. You couldn’t blame him but it was killing you. He hadn’t torn his eyes from her, nor did she. She seemed to eye Jon for a bit too long, keeping great eye contact with him as she bowed.

“No need for that,” he chuckled, greeting Drogo with a firm handshake.

He waited for you to greet the couple, not sparing a glance at your seat until he hadn’t heard your voice whatsoever.

“Y/N?”

Chatting and eating resumed, Jon’s leg bouncing anxiously. He watched like a hawk, eyes wandering about the crowd.

“Lord Snow, I don't think Lady Snow is feeling all that well.”

Upon hearing your name, you wiped the last of your tears, seating yourself at your husband's side yet again.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

He held your face in his palm, eyebrows furrowing at your puffy and reddened eyes.

“Nothing, my lord.”

You spoke the words with such harshness that it pierced his heart.

“What-“

“Ah, Lord and Lady Snow! Why don’t you make a toast?”

“I don’t think-“

“Of course, Benjen. We shall give a toast!”

You stood with your goblet, Jon staring at you with confusion clear in his features before standing on his own two feet.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. Lord Snow and I are delighted to be sharing such a special moment with you all. We wouldn’t have wanted it to be spent any other way. Jon?”

He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke.

“I’m sure I’m supposed to be thanking you lot but if it weren’t for my beautiful wife here, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you and for that, I thank her. I thank her for trying to understand me, for being the greatest human on earth, and for standing by my side regardless of what. I’ve known the shame of being a bastard for my whole life but she’s willing to bear the embarrassment of being wedded to me.”

His speech went on and on and on. It didn’t seem to end but your heart fluttered at his words. He grasped onto your hand when you turned away from him, your eyes catching Daenerys’. You shook those pestering thoughts from your mind, repeating ‘stop it, stop it, stop it’ over and over in your head.

That had only been the first of many instances, though.

You were distraught. It’d been months since you and Jon were lawfully wedded yet it seemed as if you couldn’t conceive. Your parents were applying pressure, sending ravens to your kingdom every day after, asking when you’d bear children.

After a dinner you’d put together at your castle, you lost it. Jon had spent nearly three hours lingering near the Khal and his Khaleesi. For only two minutes, he held you at his side while conversing with the couple. You’d shimmied yourself from his arms, entertaining the younger Stark children.

Robb had witnessed the way in which you embraced your inner child, chasing the kids around as they screamed their heads off. You shooed them away with a motion of your hand. With a hand on your hip, you watched them run off, your heart aching at the thought of never having children.

“Any luck yet, m’lady?”

Robb chuckled as you flinched in the slightest.

“My goodness, Robb. No, no luck yet. However, we already have names picked out, as well as runner-ups for godparents.”

“Oh really?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, spinning to face the brunette.

“If you’re so desperate to hear it, then yes, you are a candidate for our children’s godfather.”

He took your hand into his, landing a kiss on your knuckles as you giggled endlessly.

“I knew you always loved me,” he dramatically expressed.

You raised a brow, badgering him, “Say that with caution, Stark.”

“Or what? Lord Snow will behead me?”

“I might.”

The older boy wrapped his arm around his brother’s neck in a cub-like embrace.

“Goodness, Jon. Leave your brother be,” you scolded him, watching as his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

The dinner was called to an end rather soon, but a few of your guests straggled about - Khaleesi Daenerys amongst the few. Your eyes were like daggers as you watched Jon converse with the younger girl. You were drawn from your thoughts the moment Robb placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Now, Y/N, I am well aware that you think my brother is mad over this woman - or at the least, having an affair with her. But I can assure you, nothing of that sort is happening at all. He’s only trying to make am-“

“I’d like to hear that from him, Robb. If he’s just trying to make amends with the Khal and everyone then that’s on me. But it doesn’t help that the Khaleesi is that fucking gorgeous. She has these big doe eyes that scream ‘help me’ or ‘fuck me’! I don’t know which one it is but I’m afraid that Jon will play the hero and be the one that fulfills any of her needs.”

You were seething in the corner with Robb at your hip. He tried assuring you repeatedly but you were quite a stubborn queen.

After everyone had left for good, you wasted no time in heading straight to bed. You wanted to avoid Jon to the best of your ability but you simply couldn’t outdo the king. Before you could step foot out of your bedroom with your things in hand, Jon stepped in front of you. He backed you into the room, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shut the door.

“What’s your problem?”

You tried to not break under his intense gaze, your eyes bouncing from his own to everywhere in the room.

“What is your issue, Y/N?”

His voice was too quiet for your comfort.

“Are you…having an affair with Daenerys, Jon?”

The words that left your mouth sent a genuine fit of laughter racking through his body.

“Are you being serious?”

“Answer the question.”

His laughter died down, his body gravitating towards yours.

“Of course, I’m not having an affair with Daenerys. What makes you ask this?”

“The way you look at her kills me, Jon. When she’s here, it feels like I don’t exist! Why do you think I disappear for hours on end- you know what - you don’t even realize that I’m gone because you’re too immersed in your interactions with her! It’s-“

His hands found themselves on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him, though gently.

“If I was having an affair with Daenerys or anyone else, do you think that I’d be in the same bed as you every single night? All of those things I said about you months ago were nothing but true. You were probably too busy being upset with me to hear most of it but I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you.”

“Then why do you look at her the way that you do? There’s so much compassion and-“

“I look at her that way because I feel bad for her! She talks to me because she feels as if she can’t trust anyone else, not even her own brother. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel less important. You’re the most important person, the most important thing in this world. I care for Daenerys’ well-being but I don’t care about her the way I care about you. I love you and I know I don’t say it enough but I do!”

He panted as he read your face.

“So you’re not cheating on me?”

“No, and I never will! I only want you, Y/N Snow. Only you.”

His lips met yours, your shoulders falling as relief washed over you. You allowed your hands to get lost in his hair, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as your lips moved in tandem.

“Tell me you love me.”

You hadn’t noticed the few tears that stained his cheeks until he spoke against your lips, your heart aching in your chest.

“Jon, my darling, I love you more than you will ever know.”

His arms tightened around you, lifting you from the ground as he pecked your skin.

“It seems as though I have to make up to you for the rest of my life,” he chuckled against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you loving me alone is enough of an apology.”

He laid you gently on the bed, undoing your bodice in an impressive amount of time. He held back no longer, suckling on the skin that was graciously presented to him.

“Jon,” you hummed.

He imitated your actions, putting a ministration to his movement once he’d reached your underpants. After kissing, biting, sucking on your skin, his lips were red and plump. They met yours again, the taste of whatever wine you’d been drinking just hours prior still lingering on your tongue.

He worked his hands into the sides of your underpants before pushing them down your legs. You whimpered against his tongue as his fingers stimulated your clit.

“Darling,” you gasped out, his fingers dipping in and out of your cunt.

He used a leg to pry yours apart, reveling in your angelic sounds. He propped himself up on his other arm, hand holding his head. With your hands tugging at his clothing, you pulled him in even closer.

His face disappeared into the nape of your neck. The way in which he breathed against your neck caused your skin to crawl.

His nose nudged at your jawline, a dumbstruck grin taking over his features once he felt your walls pulsating around his digits. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the next words that flew from his mouth.

“Lannister had told me he imagined you sitting on his face long before my proposal. I nearly slayed the son of a bitch until I realized you weren’t mine then. Why don’t you come on my face, sweetheart?”

“W-what?” You stammered out - half shocked at the proposition and half processing the fact that he was still fucking you with his fingers.

“My pretty girl doesn’t want to sit on my face?”

He jutted out his bottom lip, on which you pressed a kiss, uttering an ‘I do’. Your legs squirmed a bit more until you came. Your back arched off the mattress as you gasped and cried out. He slid his fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked on your blissful features.

“You taste heavenly,” he murmured, wiping his saliva-slicked fingers off on his bottoms.

His words made your cheeks heat up, using whatever strength you had to push yourself onto your knees.

“Are you sure about this, Jon?”

“A million times over - yes, I’m sure about this.”

He laid himself down, your legs trembling as your cunt hovered over his face. He brought you down in seconds, not being able to resist the temptation.

His tongue expertly worked your cunt as it’d done several times before. Sitting on his face, however, brought a new sense of pleasure to you - his nose bumping your clit every so often as the entirety of your cunt grew soaked. The mix of his saliva and your release sent you spiraling once more, the core in your lower half tightening before you could say anything.

His tongue softly fucked your desperate hole, a glass-shattering moan sounding from within. You couldn’t hold back any of it. You needed to let the whole damn castle know that your king was treating you right.

“Jon!”

One hand dropped to his hair, the other fondling your breast. Your eyes dropped to his, your body giving out at the sight of his disheveled hair and his eyes just begging for your come.

Your body shook gently as you came in his mouth, eyes screwing shut once your head had lolled back. You’d lifted yourself off to the side, your husband chuckling at your already fucked-out state.

“How was that?”

His fingers traced patterns on your skin as you came down from one of your many highs for the night.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” you breathed out, your arms reaching for him once he’d brought himself to his knees.

You watched as he undid his bottoms. The intense eye contact he held with you was a telltale sign that you needed to help him out of his clothes before he exploded.

“I won’t be rough tonight,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, feeling the burn of his gaze on your face as you undid the buttons of his shirt. Your insides grew fuzzy, becoming giddy at the fact that this was truly your husband. No one, nothing could ever take him away from you.

He stood nude before you, pressing his back to the headboard before patting his lap. You climbed onto him in a matter of seconds, your hands already stabilizing themselves on his shoulders. Your knees bent at either hip, legs akimbo to appease his girth. You pumped him a few times, running his tip up and down your fold before sinking onto him with a cry.

“Has it been long, my darling?”

You nodded, offering an airy chuckle as you struggled to take all of him.

“Gods, I’m beyond s-“

You hushed him with a kiss on the lips, your hips beginning to rock back and forth once you’d hit his base. His hands fell to your behind, your back arching as he hit that spongy spot inside of you. His name left your mouth like a mantra, chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ following right after. Your mouths found one another in a slobbery mess, a clash of teeth and tongue as the rutting of your hips became more desperate.

“Stop apologizing, my lord. I- holy shit, I love you,” you choked out.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

His forearms held onto your waist, using this as leverage to thrust himself further into you.

The pace of his hips, the words exchanged, the looks on both of your faces. Just outside your door, guards exchanged knowing glances, clearing their throats at the sounds that came from the both of you. They seemingly grew louder, Jon taking the opportunity to let the words flow from his mouth - “I shall put a baby in you tonight.”

And so the night proceeded. Jon didn’t let up until you physically couldn’t go for another round, making sure none of his seed left your womb.

It was a relief to know that your king, your lord, your love wanted you and only you.

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[dearharriet]

About Time | Chapter 1

james potter x reader time travel au | 3k words | contents

page 1 | next

00:00 — 1 JANUARY

James waited until he’d fallen into his childhood home, half-plastered and sad and staring himself in the eyes through his bathroom mirror. His gaze seemed colder, lonelier than usual, and when he splashed his face with cool water it chilled him to the bone.

He’d never been unsettled by solitude, never minded much retreating to an empty bed at the end of a long day. Until then.

That’s when he knew he had to go back.

+

“Pardon me.”

The voice from behind you was so sudden and deep that you jumped, whipping around clumsily to meet it.

“God, you startled me!”

Laying eyes on the man responsible, you instantly released any ill-will you had.

“Hi, sorry,” he said, and you were already quite smitten.

He was young, though surely not any younger than you. Handsome too, in a dismantling way, like he might take you apart if you were an old clock, just to see what made you tick.

And if he wasn’t young and handsome, he’d still gain a little credit just in looking so guilty for spooking you.

“Hi.”

This was January, and you were out on the veranda, so your breath escaped you visibly. You were aware of it trickling upward as the handsome man smiled shyly and introduced himself.

“I’m James.”

Leaning up against a white banister, you snuggled further into your shawl, watching him. He was a few steps above you, and taller by a lot anyways, so it posed a bit of a strain.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lovely name,” James commented, not missing a beat. It surprised you, but you rallied easily.

“And yours.” You sipped your drink, and when he hadn’t formed a response, decided to elaborate. “Classic.”

James ducked his head in a dashing sort of way, adding a little humility to the lethal mix of attractive traits he contained.

“Yeah, but don’t let it take any precedence. It's strangeness across the board for the rest of me.”

Your lips curled up at the corners.

“For some reason I think that’s true,” you teased, eyes shining with mirth.

There were lots of ways to be flirted with, several of which left a bad taste in your mouth and a loneliness that felt unquenchable in your chest, but this you liked.

James spoke like he was on his toes, constantly steeped in anticipation. If possible, he seemed to savor every moment while simultaneously rushing into better, deeper territory.

He came further down the steps then, and you appreciated the relief on your neck. The smell that drifted off of him was like honey and biscuits, perpetually warm on your senses, even in late winter.

“So how do you know Marlene,” James asked, and you felt the tightness of excitement in your chest realizing that he was going to stay and talk to you.

“Work,” you told him, “she’s a madwoman. Flirts with all the customers.”

James kept a polite distance from you, gravitating toward a patch of light from the windows. He wore a tailored suit that was primarily night blue, which somehow fit him with both strict lines and a charming rumpled messiness.

You wondered if he’d get any easier to look at.

“That sounds like Marly,” James agreed, looking fond. A tiny needle of jealousy pricked you, which was ridiculous, because if this were Marlene’s boyfriend she’d have been shouting it from the rooftops.

Clinging to that affirmation, you asked, “you two are familiar?”

Each of James’ hands held the opposite bicep in a half-hearted cross, aiding a small shrug.

“We went to school together.”

You nodded, growing envious for new reasons.

“That seems to be the theme around here. I’m sad I missed it.”

James smiled warmly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Would it make you feel better if I told you it was boarding school? We had to share dorms all year.”

Fiddling with a ring on your finger, your gaze skipped to the square orange portal that led to the party inside. The window was one on the back wall of the parlor, and it became devastatingly easy to pick out the school club from the others inside. Marlene lounged beside other sharp girls and well-dressed guys, all of them laughing and bickering like siblings. You craved to be at the heart of it more than anything.

“Co-Ed?” you asked abruptly, tearing away from the vibrant crowd to see James’ face contort.

“No,” he laughed. “I roomed with Sirius, Remus and Frank.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Four to a room?”

James’ laugh thickened, his spectacles glinting white as his head tossed back. His amusement was acerbic, corrupting your bewilderment until it was lost to a goofy smile.

“I do feel much better, thank you,” you said. “Private school sounds awful.”

“Well, don’t rub it in, now,” he chided lightly.

An army of wind marched around the corner of the estate then, fighting through your thin shawl. James’ eyes traced your shivering frame as he stepped ever closer.

“Erm, hey, I was wondering—”

The patio door opened, delicate glass inlaid with iron, and yet your moment with James seemed the thing to shatter. A fair-skinned man stepped out, a hunt in his eyes, and you hoped whatever it was for wasn’t James.

Nyx-dark hair moved like shadows over the night sky, reflecting the party inside glossily. His head turned, and then he was laying eyes on your companion.

“James!” The man said, his poised effect splitting down the middle, revealing a collie’s energy. He motioned for James to meet him up on the landing. “C’mon mate, Remus has a plan.”

James shook his head simply.

“Do it without me, yeah?”

Something territorial swept over James’ friend’s face, and he suddenly looked you over. You were embarrassed to only warrant a millisecond of his attention.

“Bollucks,” he declared, challenging James to disagree. “Let’s go.”

Then he returned swiftly inside, leaving both French doors and your chest swung open. James sighed, the weight of a lost battle on his shoulders, and found your eyes again.

“Sorry, that’s Sirius,” he explained, and you supposed that would make sense.

“The roommate,” you provided. James nodded.

“I swear he’s nicer.”

You wouldn’t say you found him rude, just unfriendly. He certainly seemed warm, as did everyone at the party, but to a select few people. A select few that didn’t include you.

You said, “I’m sure.” If James thought someone was nice, they probably were. He seemed a good judge of character. Unless you had very poorly judged his character, which you wouldn’t put past yourself.

James winced. “I have to go. But, um—”

“James, mate, come on,” Sirius called from inside, and then he and another, taller man poked their heads out to check his progress in detaching himself from you.

“Alright, one second!”

You’re not sure why you said it, perhaps the people pleaser overriding your system, but you said, “it’s alright, James. You can go.”

It didn’t make him look any less torn. His head whipped back and forth between you and his friends, trying to find a solution.

Of course you wanted him to stay, but you didn’t want to hold him hostage, so you tried your best to look supportive of whatever he chose.

In the end, he stepped close to you, brows pinched with regret.

“I won’t be long. Will you—would you stay?”

You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, choking back the clawing barrage of disappointment.

“‘Course,” you said.

James blew out a breath, relaxing his tense posture.

“I really swear it. Back before you can say ‘private school,’ yeah?”

You laughed weakly, taking a long look at him for memory.

“Yeah.”

Reluctantly, James backed away from you, then turned to climb the steps toward his friends. They were sagged with impatience, hanging onto his every step the same way you were, except for different reasons. In a way, you were more jealous of these two than you were of Marlene, because they were like James’ brothers. They knew him better than probably anyone, you guessed.

James hopped up onto the landing and glanced back to you, frowning slightly. The light from inside caught his lenses just so, hiding his eyes from you, and that small detail alone felt like the end of all things.

Then, Sirius and his accomplice took each of James’ arms and hauled him inside, shutting the doors behind them.

Shivering again, you watched the three of them appear in the window, heads bowed together in conspiracy. James looked different there, like something out of a movie. He snapped right into place with the rest of them, glittering and masterfully made.

It was clear he had a world of his own—one that you would likely never penetrate, no matter how badly you wanted for it, no matter how long you waited in the cold.

Marlene would forgive you for running off, but you’d never forgive yourself if you got sick for a silly dream, so you left the party and made peace with the what-if that was James.

+

James fell headfirst out of the cramped coat closet, cursing as his legs tangoed and lost to a tall pair of rain boots. In his fall, he took down with him three raincoats and a hanging organizer (six hats, a bucket of gloves, and five and half pairs of sandals).

He was already tired and fuming when he entered the closet, and now he felt he’d completely lose it any second. Disengaging from his fight with evil clothing, he scooched on his bum to the scrunched up hall runner that paved the Mckinnon’s entry.

Near the end of it someone cleared their throat, and James looked up to see Fabian and Gideon Prewett, the nosiest blokes in the world. Fantastic.

“Look who we have here,” said one twin, the other smiling wickedly, ready to pick up the second half of their routine snooping.

“Off for a snog-sesh with someone, are we, James?”

Battling to his feet, James let out a long-suffering sigh, already moving their way.

“Yeah, your mum,” he snarked.

As they both laughed, James prepared to push between them, but they parted before he had to. He walked through their flank, relieved yet nervous—the typical reaction those two elicited.

Leaving them behind, the narrow hall forked off into several different rooms, offices and kitchens and a library. James played here even before he was in school with Marlene, so he knew every corner like it was his own home. He headed for the parlor.

Even for someone who had never been in the house, finding James’ destination would be easy. All they had to do was follow the music.

In the parlor, chaise lounges were hardly visible under old school friends and their families, the walls lined with business partners and gossiping aunts. Smaller children ran amok, like birds weaving between a forest of mingling adults. The hearthfire hissed and spat, bound to take down at least one fashionably dressed lady before the year was over.

James swept his gaze over the bobbing heads and flying hands, looking for someone in particular. Sirius’ thick black hair beat like a raven's wing near the back of the room, so that’s where the bespectacled boy went.

On his path, Remus stood glued to a wall, looking very antisocial. He pinged from one crutch to another, taking up new residence at James’ side.

“Where’d you run off to?”

“Had to take a piss,” James said casually. He’d grown accustomed to small lies like that, since no one knew about his little habit.

Remus didn’t question it, just picked through the crowd to where Sirius was.

“Padfoot,” James called, and he didn’t have to say anything else. Sirius excused himself and met the two of them without question, a silent understanding that forged the undercurrent of their friendship.

James led them all into another hall, one closer to the crystalline patio doors.

“I heard,” James started, “that Marlene has a pot stash somewhere ‘round here.”

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, and James knew he had them. Even if they came up dry, the two of them would snoop just to snoop, and Remus obviously wanted away from the party anyways.

“Whereabouts do you think it is,” Sirius asked, looking at a mounted painting like it might be involved.

“Dunno,” James said, “but if we split up I bet we’d find it before the new year.”

Sirius grinned, and it spread onto Remus’ lips.

“I can take downstairs, and you and Pads can go up,” Remus said.

James shook his head.

“No, you two can go.” The two of them gave James skeptical looks, but he shrugged. “I have heavy footsteps, they’d hear me up there.”

Sirius’ expression cleared, and then he was nodding along. “Right.” He took Remus’ arm in his grasp and pulled him along. “Let’s go, Moony. I bet we can find some before Prongs.”

James heard Remus object that, “it’s only in one place,” before their conversation was lost by distance. Then, he turned around and pushed through the back doors, praying you were where he left you.

You were. Just like last time, your back was turned to him. You were staring at the clear sky, gripping your wrap close to your chest. James remembered that he’d startled you before, so he latched the doors as noisily as possible. You still didn’t come around.

He supposed that was for the best, actually, since he’d changed something already. He crept down the steps, feeling terrible for sneaking up on you, and wondering what you might’ve been thinking about that kept you so distracted.

“Pardon me,” James begged, and you spun around in shock.

“God, you startled me!”

James smiled, and your eyes trailed all over him. He couldn’t say he minded, since he was doing the same.

You reminded him of a mouse—shy but necessarily bold, holding yourself up outstandingly well as a stranger in a roomful of friends. That was, until you dipped outside and didn’t return.

“Sorry, hi,” he apologized, really meaning it this time. As expected, you smiled shyly, golden champagne tilting in the glass you held.

“Hi.”

A swath of mist escaped your mouth with the exhaled greeting. James had to remind himself that you didn’t remember the first time this happened, so you wouldn’t know his name.

“I’m James.”

You leant back, neck craning to keep his eyes. James stepped down to accommodate you, and your brows smoothed.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“That’s a pretty name,” James said, getting bolder. It was hard to hold himself away from you.

You dropped your head then, smiling primly at the stone steps.

“Thank you,” you said, instead of complimenting James in return.

James blinked. What happened?

“Yours—”

“I’m—”

James paused as you both spoke at the same time, looking at you the way someone might look at a tricky puzzle.

“Sorr—”

“You can—oh.”

Fingers pressed to your mouth, you looked at James, a tentative smile in your eyes. James sighed, and then laughed strangely. He motioned for you to go ahead, only to find your hand unfolding into the same gesture. Both of you stared at each other for a beat before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You go,” James said finally, smiling. You just shook your head.

“I don’t even remember.”

James squinted at your rosy cheeks, his lips picking up at the corners. You could lead a horse to water, he supposed.

The temptation to learn more about you began to win him over, so he bent a few rules.

“So you work with Marlene, I hear,” he spoke, fibbing ever so slightly.

You smiled a bit, none the wiser. “I do, yeah.”

James looked inside, checking for dark hair or an itchy sweater, but Remus and Sirius were still missing. Good.

“What’s that like?”

Brows furrowing, you followed his gaze.

“It’s…interesting. She’s really nice, but she—”

“Flirts with all the customers?” James supplied, peeking at you out of the corner of his eye.

You stared at him for a tick. “Yeah. You must know her?”

“Childhood friends,” James decided, nodding. When he turned back to you, you were raking your eyes over his dressy outfit, lip caught between your teeth. Your eyes found his, and you looked away. James thought he saw a flush to your cheeks.

The wind whipped around the corner then, and James began shouldering his thick jacket off, finally doing what he’d wanted to do before.

“You must be crazy,” he said, coming closer. “It’s freezing out here.”

You braved a look at him, and alarm sunk into your features.

“No, James, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“Don’t be polite, lovely, you’re shivering. Here.”

James slowly held his coat over your shoulders, leaning back to watch you carefully. He saw the moment you accepted his offer, sinking back into the warmth the garment still held.

“Thank you,” you breathed as James pulled away. He shoved his cold hands into his pockets, now looking to conserve heat.

“‘Course.”

Though his hands weren’t on you anymore, James stayed just as close as he was moments ago. He could smell the champagne in your glass. He glanced around to the garden, to your feet on the step, just below his.

“D’you want to head inside?” he asked. “It’s almost midnight, I think.”

Your lips turned up, and James hoped to God he’d get to kiss them.

“That sounds lovely.”

+

James flipped his phone open, the small screen giving off just enough light in his dark room to make him squint. He was wondering what you’d put for your contact—a smiley face, maybe, or a heart? He hoped you put a heart. It took his brain far too long to catch up to reality.

With a shock of gut-twisting dread, James realized he’d been so wound up over kissing you that he forgot to ask for your phone number. Your phone number.

He groaned, glancing at his bed longingly, but he knew he wouldn’t fall into it very soon. He’d go back a hundred times before he slept that night if it got him one date with you.

thank you for reading! xx | masterlist

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[topguncortez]

Not a Good Experience | B.Bradshaw One-Shot

part of the Older, Wiser, More Experienced fics

synopsis: Bradley has been acting strange, and you want to get to the bottom of it.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: arguing, verbal fighting, throwing glass (not at anyone), cursing, mentions of cheating, name calling

“I was late for dinner, so what?! That doesn’t mean you can act all crazy!” Bradley yelled at you. 

“I’m not acting crazy! I want to know where you were!” You yelled back. 

His face beat red from yelling. The veins in his forehead were popping out and his knuckles were white from clenching his fists. This argument was unlike any other, it had lasted a lot longer than usual. You weren’t sure when your relationship with Bradley had taken such an ugly turn, but you weren’t liking it. 

You had supported his career from day one sticking by his side; staying up late waiting for him to call when he was on deployment, putting your studies on hold, and waiting for him to come home. You ignored all the comments and stares at you as you stood by Bradley’s side at the Hard Deck or Naval events. It was hard being so much younger than Bradley, but you had somehow figured out a way to fit right in with the crowd. It was one of the many things Bradley had loved about you. 

You also weren’t ever one to cause arguments for no reason or any reason at all. Bradley found it quite odd that you never tried to pick a fight with him about things. For being so young, you were probably the most easy-going girlfriend he had ever had. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you had reached your limit. For the past couple of months, Bradley had been brushing you off. It started with being late for dinner and not texting you he was going to be late. Then, it turned to leaving the house early in the morning and not so much as whispering goodbye or leaving you a note like he usually did. You knew that he was busier now with his new position and promotion, but you didn’t think it was at the point where he’d forget something so important as your one-year anniversary. 

It wasn’t that Bradley was late to your anniversary dinner, it was that he completely didn’t show up to it. You sat at the restaurant, in that baby blue dress, he loves so much for three hours. The waitress even gave you that sad look and a bottle of wine on the house. Bradley had told you he would be pushing it to make it on time, going over flight plans with Jake. You had called Jake, in tears as you ran out of the restaurant trying to avoid the sympathy looks from strangers. 

“He’s not with me,” Jake said, “He left the hangar hours ago.” 

It felt like a slug to your chest as you heard Jake’s words. You tried your best to give Bradley the benefit of the doubt, and not let your mind go there. . . but you couldn’t help it. He was staying out later, coming home at odd hours, answering his phone, and walking away to a private spot in his house. And you swore that he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume a couple of nights ago. 

Bradley had rushed home the second he checked his watch and realized how late he was. He stopped by the local flower shop and begged them to unlock the door so he could buy you a bouquet of purple roses. He had practiced a speech in his head of what he was going to say to you, but when he walked through the door and found you sitting on the couch, still in your dress and a glass of red wine in your hand, he knew that he wasn’t getting out of this easy. 

He didn’t, however, expect you to yell at him. He had never, ever, seen you like this.

“You have been lying to me for weeks!” You yelled at him, “And how dare you stand there and belittle me!” 

“Well! What do you expect me to do?! And what the hell were you doing on base at night? You know you can’t be there!” Bradley said.

“Because I wanted the fucking truth, Bradley. And I got it. Tell me where you were!? You told me, Bradley, you promised me that you wouldn’t do this to me! That you were better than all the rest and I believe you, so just tell-” 

“Oh my god!” Bradley groaned, running a head down his face, “You’re acting like a child!” 

You froze as you stared at him, his brown eyes filling with regret the second the words slipped his mouth. 

“I-” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him. You weren’t even thinking when you picked up the glass vase of flowers he had gotten you and threw it down on the floor. The shattering of glass was deafening as Bradley jumped, while you stood there barefoot, letting the glass and water sprinkle on your feet. You looked up at him, his eyes were wide as he looked from the mess and then to you. 

“Jesus, you really have fucking lost it.” Bradley laughed to himself, “This is why I spend my time with Tessa-” 

He clamped his jaw shut as soon as he said the name. You took a shaky breath, as tears clouded yours. She had a name, making everything you had speculated even more real. Bradley took a step towards you, but you held your hand up stopping him. You bit your lip and wiped your eyes. 

“I think I-it’s best if you stay with Jake tonight,” You suggested and Bradley nodded. 

You listened as Bradley’s footsteps drift out of the kitchen and up the creaky wooden stairs of your home. The bedroom door shut, and Bradley started shuffling around to find himself clothes for the night. You took a deep breath and knelt down, looking at the glass that was shattered around the floor and started to clean it up. You paused several times as your vision got too blurry with tears to continue. Once you had everything cleaned up, you made yourself a cup of tea, and sat down at the table, looking out into the still dark of the night. 

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, walking over to you, his backpack over his shoulder, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to go to bed upset, cause I know you won’t sleep. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” You nodded and Bradley kissed the top of your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I’m sorry too,” You said barely above a whisper. You watched as Bradley walked out the front door, the image being burned into your eyes. You had watched him leave a thousand times, but for some reason, this felt different. You saw his car pull out of the driveway and turn down the road towards his brother’s house. You didn’t move, letting the sinking feeling of the quiet house soak into your skin. 

———————

“She threw a glass?!” Jake asked as Bradley, recounted the argument between you and him.

“Not really, more like held it above her head and threw it down,” Bradley answered. He was stretched out on Jake’s couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand, “And then I mentioned Tessa.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot…” 

“I know,” 

“Did you explain who Tessa was?” 

“How the fuck do I explain who Tessa is without telling her the whole secret. ‘Oh hey, babe I’ve been sneaking around with an engagement party planner so I can propose to you.’ ” Bradley said and sat up from the couch, “I feel like I just fucked everything up.” 

“Sounds like it,” Jake said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Bradley shot him a look and he held his hands up in defense, “Hey! I’m not the one who called their girlfriend a child. You already know how she feels about being called that” 

“I know,” Bradley sighed, “I just. . . She was just- I don’t even know. I’ve never seen her that upset and it was making me mad that I was making her mad and I just-”  

“Fucked up.”  

“Yeah,” Rooster leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling, “What do I do?” 

“Exactly what you are doing now. You let her have the night, let her think things through, and go back tomorrow. Talk it out. You two have been through so much together, this can’t be the end,” Jake explained and Bradley nodded, “I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too long, your mind needs rest.” 

Bradley nodded, “Night, man.” 

Bradley finished his glass of whiskey and then set it down on the table. He pulled his phone out and contemplated sending you a message, but decided against it. He locked his phone and set it down, before lying down and getting comfortable for the night. 

————————-

The next morning Bradley did exactly what Jake had suggested and went out to buy your favorite flowers. The morning rain felt refreshing as he pulled up to his shared home with you. Bradley checked himself in the rearview mirror, making sure he looked his best. He picked up the yellow and orange roses he had gotten, and sniffed them, making sure they smelled fresh. 

“Okay… here goes nothing,” Bradley said to himself as he pushed the car door open and quickly ran into the house, trying not to get soaked by the rain. He unlocked the door and shut it quickly. 

“Sugar!” Bradley called out. 

He looked around the first level and didn’t see you. He checked his phone, noticing it was still morning, you might have not been up yet. A smile crawled its way to his face, as he climbed the stairs, two at a time, the thought of surprising you dancing in his head. However, when he pushed the bedroom door open he was met with the sight of a perfectly made bed as if no one had slept in it. 

Bradley moved quickly from the main bedroom to the guest bedrooms and saw the same scene. Perfectly made beds. He began to panic, what if something had happened to you last night after he left? Bradley pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing your number, only for it to go straight to voicemail. He called the same number three more times, getting the same result each time. He sent Jake a frantic text, telling him you were missing. 

Bradley paced his bedroom, the flowers now laying on the bed, as he was pulling at his hair trying to think of what could’ve happened and who to contact. He pulled up the call feature on his phone again and almost called 9-1-1 when he looked up at the doors to their closet. He slowly put his phone down and walked to the closet. Pushing the doors back, he broke down. 

“No… no… no, no!” Bradley cried as he ran over to the dresser, yanking open the drawers to find them in the same state as the closet.

Empty. 

He pulled open cabinets in the bathroom, drawers to her vanity, desk drawers in the office, and pantry cupboards. Everything that you owned was gone. 

Bradley felt like the house was suffocating him. He ran down the stairs and out the door, slamming it shut. He ran all the way to Jake’s house, which luckily for him was just two streets over. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. Everything that he had ever known was just gone… 

“Bradley?” Jake asked, barging into the house, “W-what happened? Where are you? I just saw your-” 

“She’s gone,” Bradley said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“S-she left me… she left me, oh my god, she left me.”

taglist form - I can't believe I need to say this. . . but you have to put your Tumblr username to be able to be tagged.

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388  @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27  @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines  @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @Munsonswhore86 @happypopcornprincess @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @callsignharper @genius2050

note: and DO NOT ask for a part 2 because there won't be one. it's a ONE-SHOT for a reason

[firehosebvck]

leap of faith - aaron hotchner

title: leap of faith

summary: sometimes, all you need to find true happiness is to take a leap of faith.

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 1668

warning(s): mention of haley and underage drinking

a/n: so the idea of this story came from the amazingly talented @greg-montgomery's scenario here. all credit for this idea goes to them. if you want some really good hotch fics, please go check them out! i thought it was so cute and just had to write it. hope you guys enjoy!

This is not how I pictured my Tuesday morning at the office going, you think to yourself as Penelope crosses out yet another name from her lists of your potential suitors. With the help of JJ and Emily, she had managed to compile thirty-two names, and more than half of them have already been scrapped. Before today, you had refused every time they had brought up the idea of setting you up on a blind date. That was before you realized that the feelings you held for your boss, Aaron, were far from friendly. You knew that nothing would come of what you were feeling, so you came to Penelope’s office and told her that you would agree to one date.

“What about this one?” Penelope asks as she swipes to the next picture. This guy was not bad-looking, by any means. He looked young, had hazel that glittered with mischief, and there was a boy-next-door charm to him. Something about him seemed so familiar, though. You couldn’t quite place it. “His name is Thomas, he’s twenty-seven, and he works in the Cyber Response department.”

“He looks like a younger version of Hotch,” Emily remarks from her place to your right.

Penelope tilts her head and seems to consider this. “Huh. Now that you point it out, I can’t unsee it.” She looks at you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

Truthfully, you could see the tiniest bit of a resemblance between the two of them, but you know that this man would never compare to Aaron—Hotch. But you know that nothing will happen between you and Hotch. So, you see this as the perfect opportunity to start moving on. “He’s cute,” you tell Penelope. “I’ll give him a chance.”

Letting out a giddy squeal, she scribbles down his number and hands it to you. You text him as soon you leave Penelope’s office, introducing yourself, telling him that your friend from the office had told you about him, and asking him if he wanted to go out sometime.

Sure. Thomas writes back after a few minutes, Does Friday at eight sound good to you? There is a new Mediterranean place a few blocks away from my office I want to take you to.

It’s a date! I love Mediterranean food. :)

--

Friday comes faster than you expect it to. You’d made sure to bring a change of clothes and a bag of your favorite makeup to save you the half-hour drive back to your apartment to get ready. The dress you’re wearing is a little red number, courtesy of Emily, with a slit up your both your thighs and tiny straps holding it to your body. The first time you tried it on, you didn’t think your body would fill the dress out as well as hers did, but it fit like a glove. You felt confident in the dress; you felt sexy. It was the motivation you needed to not back out of the date.

You’re touching up your lipstick when a voice brings out of your thoughts. “I thought you left hours ago.”

It’s Aaron. “Hotch.”

He tilts his head, and the cute little frown he wears when he’s confused appears. “What are you still doing here? You should be at home getting some rest.”

“I have a date tonight, and I didn’t want to drive the thirty minutes home to get ready when the restaurant is only a couple of blocks away,” you explain, and he nods. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know how I let the girls talk me into going. I mean, I trust them with my life, but…” You laugh quietly to yourself.

“They just want to see you have fun and not focus on work all the time. We all deserve time to ourselves every now and again.” A small smile of his own comes over his face, and it makes your heart stutter in your chest. “At least that’s what Penelope told me before she tried to set me up on a date of my own.”

Your quiet laugh turns into incessant giggles. “Oh, I would’ve loved to see how that went.”

He shakes his head fondly. “Penelope meant well, but the woman and I didn’t click. Plus, I think it was too soon after my divorce from Haley. I wasn’t ready to let myself date again.”

You nod. “I understand that.” You stand from your chair and smooth out your dress with your palms, looking up at your boss. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Aaron tells you, but there’s something in his expression as he says it. You don’t know what to call it.

“Thank you.”

“I should let you get to your date. Have a good night, Y/N.” He turns and makes his way back to his office.

You are on your way out of the bullpen when—and you don’t know what compels you to do it, either—you look back at Hotch. The blinds to office are pulled open, but you notice a shift in his posture. His shoulders are drawn tight like a cord that’s about to snap, the expression void of the playfulness that was there not even two minutes ago.

You dig your phone out of your purse and text your date. Hey, Thomas! It’s Y/N. I’m sorry that this is so last minute, but something came up at the office. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. You walk up the stairs to Hotch’s office and knock on the door. “Y/N?” He asks when he opens the door. “Did you forget something?”

You shake your head. “No. My date cancelled on me.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s fine, it was only a date. I don’t think it would’ve worked out anyway.” You look past his shoulder into his office. “What are you still doing here?”

He lifts a file folder into your line of sight. “Paperwork for our most recent case. I wanted to start on it before we’re called on a new one.”

“Do I mind if I join you?”

He purses his lips in confusion. “Of course I don’t mind, but all I’d be doing is paperwork. You’d have more fun watching paint dry.”

“Well, since my night is now free, all I’d be doing is taking a shower and having a hot date with my couch and a bottle of wine.” You smile at your boss. “Besides, I wouldn’t be watching. I’d be helping.”

Hotch shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Hotch, I mean this with every ounce of respect and admiration I have for you, which is a lot, but please just shut up and let me help you.” He lets out a laugh in surprise. “I know that I don’t have to help, but I want to. Please let me.”

He steps to the side to let you come into his office, and you take a seat on his couch. “So, what can I do, boss?”

He smiles at his place from behind his desk. “Will you read me my notes from the file next to you? I’d like to put them in the report.”

You nod. “Sure thing.” You pick up the file to your left and flip it open, Hotch’s notes scribbled onto post-it notes stuck to the paper. “You ready?”

--

“No way,” you exclaim through your fit laughter. “No way that happened!”

The table in front of you is littered with takeout boxes. You and Aaron sit next to each other on the small couch, your knees grazing. Aaron’s half-empty container of beef Lo Mein sits in his lap while you hold your nearly full container of veggie fried rice.

“Well, it did,” Aaron’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “I’m sure there’s still evidence of it lurking somewhere on the internet.”

“I just… I have a hard time believing that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the FBI Behavioral Analysis, jumped off the roof of a two-story house into a pool.” You spoon more of your rice into your mouth.  “It’s so out of character for you.”

“In my defense, I was sixteen and thought I was invincible. I may also have been drunk.”

“Huh. Aaron the troublemaker? Never would have pegged you that way.”

He tries to hide his smile under a bite of his Lo Mein. “There are a lot of things about me that will surprise you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

Aaron tilts his head. “You know, now that I think about it, I never found out if that punch had been spiked or not.”

This causes you to dissolve into giggles.

--

“So, Y/N,” Emily asks as she walks through the bullpen the next morning with Penelope and JJ in tow, “how did it go last night?”

Penelope bumps her shoulder into yours. “Yeah. I want to know everything!”

Morgan looks up at the three of you from his desk, and Spencer does the same from his own. “What happened last night?”

“I was supposed to go on a date last, but it got cancelled last minute,” you tell them and then look between Penelope and Emily. “So, there’s nothing to tell.”

“That sucks,” JJ laments. You shrug and tell her that you weren’t really worried about it. There’s a lull in the conversation until you spot Aaron walking past the bullpen to his office.

You smile. “Morning, Aaron!”

He turns to you and returns your smile. “Morning, Y/N.”

Penelope, Emily, JJ, and Derek all turn to you once Aaron is out of earshot. “Aaron?” JJ asks, a tone of pleasant surprise coloring her voice.

You shrug nonchalantly, a small smile coming to your lips. “I’m solving a mystery,” you tell them before making your way to your desk.

The four of them share looks of bewilderment before Spencer speaks up. “You guys didn’t know? I could see it from a mile away.”

[runnning-outof-time]

Thanks for sending another GIFt my way, Cia!! 🥰 I know I say it every time, but these little surprise presents put the biggest smile on my face! I decided to write a little something with John on this one because I’m currently in Tommy land with my requests and wanted a little break. I…I’m not quite sure what it is, but it was fun to write. Enjoy!

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Stop Showing Them!

John Shelby

Warnings: death-threats jokingly made

(Y/N) gets the embarrassment of a lifetime when she finds her boyfriend showing his family her childhood pictures.

“What’re we all doing in here?” Tommy Shelby questioned as he entered the living room of his family home to see that it was packed with people.

“Come take a look at this, Tom!” John waved him over with one of his hands while the other balanced the large book he was holding.

“What’s that?” the older of the two questioned, his eyebrows furrowed as he moved to his brother’s side. It didn’t take him long to realize that what John was holding was a picture book, full of pictures of a young girl. He couldn’t help but laugh at some of the things John was explaining to him.

“And you see this one is…”

“What have you got there, John?” (Y/N)’s voice came from the archway to the kitchen, cutting John off and making the room go silent.

“Nothing…” John trailed off, shutting the book quickly, making it let out a loud clap.

“John…” she looked at him with a deadpan stare, like a predator that had eyes set on its prey.

“There ain’t nothin’ in this book, love,” he insisted, trying to smoothly transfer both his hands and the book behind his back. His attempts failed though, so he just awkwardly held it at his side, like a schoolboy would hold his materials between classes.

“Then why are you hiding it? Hmm?” she questioned him, popping her right hip out so that she could rest her hand on it, her eyebrows raising as she did so. John let out a sheepish chuckle, looking down at the ground as he nervously scratched his top lip with his thumb. “John Michael Shelby, tell me what’s inside that book,” she demanded now, her voice flat.

“I’d give it up, John, before you make things any worse,” Polly suggested from where she was sitting, an amused smirk present as she watched the couple go at it.

“She’s going to give you hell if you don’t tell her, John,” Ada added in, also invested in the situation that was unfolding.

John looked from his aunt and sister to his brother, who was still standing by his side. He hoped that Tommy would have some guidance, but he knew he was on his own the second the elder Shelby sibling raised both of his hands. “This isn’t my war,” he mumbled, unable to stop himself from chuckling at his younger brother’s misfortune. John sure knew how to get himself into the worst of situations. He was going to have to get out of this one by himself.

“Well?” (Y/N) asked again, waiting for him to give her an answer.

“Your mum gave it to me…the last time we visited her,” he offered some details, but not the ones (Y/N) was looking for.

“What’s in the book, John?”

“It may or may not be pictures from when you were younger,” he spoke quickly and in a low voice as he scratched the back of his neck, hoping all of the things he was doing would have made it hard for her to hear him.

“You’re kidding,” she gasped, telling him that she heard his words loud and clear as she rushed over to grab the book out of his hands. “John!” she shrieked as she flipped through it, seeing all of the embarrassing portraits that had been taken of her throughout her younger years. She immediately knew that this was the book that her mother had kept of all of the ‘mess-ups’; of all of the purposefully terrible pictures.

“It was your mum who gave it to me,” he stated, holding his hands up in surrender while trying hard to conceal the grin that was threatening to break onto his features.

“I can’t believe you went and showed them to your family though!” she exclaimed, trying (and failing terribly) to not let her flustered nature show.

“It was so hard not to,” he defended himself.

Arthur and Michael walked into the house then, and were immediately confused by the situation that greeted them. “What’s going on in here?” Arthur was the one to ask.

“(Y/N)’s got some pictures from when she was younger…she was just showing them to us,” John stated, a smug grin now present as he gave them a botched description of what was going on.

“No, that is absolutely not what was going…John!” she stopped herself when John took the book from her hands and began walking over to where the other two men were standing.

“Wanna see them?” he asked, glancing behind him and hurrying up his step when he saw that she was following him.

“Stop showing them!” she exclaimed, smacking his shoulder and grabbing the book back from his hands just as he started showing them the photographs. “I’m going to kill you, John Shelby…and I’m going to use this book to do it! Ugh!” she exclaimed, wielding the book as she showed him what she meant.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me that, sweetheart,” John brushed her statement off, grinning at her.

“I can’t believe you,” she huffed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as a smile tugged the corners of her lips upwards.

———

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @valentinabloom @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite

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