#peachy chatterings

[flutterclouds]

New toothpaste protagonist’s name is Alear

[tiyoin]

📍pt 1 | pt 2.

no thoughts just thought about twst’s other mc

you were friends with yuu in your original life. two halves of a whole.

but you were shyer when it came to new people while yuu was more out going. so you couldn’t help but watch enviously as yuu started getting friends- a lot of them- right off the bat.

of course you were still best friends, always making time for each other no matter how hard it was to.

once a week you and yuu would spend the whole day together no matter who you ran into.

ace and deuce? great! they joined the party! but you wouldn’t even look at them nor talk to them out of pure anxiety.

of course you’d talk to them if they spoke to you first. have a little wave everytime they greeted you.

it took you 1 monthh to be able to be able to greet them on your own.

or! if the infamous leech twins were to interrupt your yuu time you would always cling to them as the two green giants would intimidate you.

didn’t help that you could feel their eyes linger on you either. your eyes always meeting theirs if they happened to say something that made you laugh out loud.

of course they picked fun at you for not talking, or barely talking.

“oh? y/n i didn’t know you could talk”

“ehhh, i forgot you were here”

was something you got on the daily. yuu would laugh it off and sling their arm around your shoulder, telling whomever about how much of a chatter box you were! always finished it off by cooing at you and saying ‘how you were shy’ around people, especially guys.

you were in hell to be fair.

although, you were able to make your own friends; like silver. you were the only ones not paired up for the joint potionology lesson.

silver because he was sleeping, and you because yuu was swarmed by their other friends and you went to the bathroom when he announced it was a pair up.

you had counted before and there was an odd number of people. so if you went to the bathroom everyone would have to pair up and when you came back you’d be able to work alone!!

sound proof plan right! turns out one of the leeches snuck into the class when they weren’t supposed to so your headcount was slightly off.

when you say next to silver you debated waking him up. looking to yuu nervously they shrugged, motioning you to wake him up.

but he looked so… peaceful. so you started doing the work on your own, like how you intended. you kept sneaking peeks at him as the minute hand ticked on.

crewel was too busy with another group (ace and deuce) to really bother with you or silver-

“oh-“

gasping, your head snapped to sliver’s as your startled eyes met his groggy ones. his eyes individually blinking as he yawned.

“are you-”

“we uh, got paired up for a project…”

he sat up right, clearly surprised as he looked around. seeing all the pairs hard at work, he looked at your chemistry set with guilt.

“i’m sorry for sleeping, i didn’t even know we were paired together. you could’ve woke me up”

you smiled slightly, shaking your head as you struggled to meet his eyes. “don’t worry about it, i was planning on working alone but counted wrong, and you seemed so peaceful that i didn’t have the heart to wake you”

he sighed, slouching over his seat “i appreciate it, but next time don’t be afraid to wake me up, okay?”

you nodded as you flipped the paper to catch him up.

it was nice talking to someone other than yuu for once. someone who wasn’t as boisterous and a handful. someone who didn’t have trouble follow them like a shadow. yeah it was different, but you’d take any different slice to mix up your mundane life.

you didn’t know if it was sliver, or an instant connection, but you both slowly drifted from the topic and started talking about sleep. your lack of and his overabundance of.

“you’re kidding?? you fell asleep on your horse?? i’m sorry- i shouldn’t laugh” your head threw back as you tried holding back your laughter. silver chuckled, cheeks and ears turning a soft peachy hue, he shifted his bangs between his thumb and pointer finger. silver was recounting the tale of when he fell asleep on his horse during an equestrian club practice, causing the horse to run off with him still attached.

opening your eyes a bit, you saw more than one person staring at you. matter of fact, it seemed like almost the whole room was looking in your general direction. instinctively, you shut your mouth and hunched over yourself as you cleared your throat. staring down at the paper, you erased a sentence before re-writing. your body felt like it was on fire as you bit your lip nervously.

fuck, that was humiliating.

“you should laugh more”

your eyes shot up to silvers. he had a slight smile as he looked at you through his bangs, he flicked his eyes down to keep writing which only lasted a moment longer as his eyes fluttered before he lifted his head.

“you always seem so… depressed”

“ouch” you grumbled, yet he kept going

“you wouldn’t be so alone here if you smiled and laughed more, believe me, you have a wonderful smile and a contagious laugh”

‘no shot he’s fucking rizzing me’ you gasped internally as you felt your cheeks get redder. you fought back the urge to fan yourself as you felt your clothing on your skin.

everything seemed too much, the lights, your clothes, the table, his eyes.

“are you okay y/n?”

you nodded, before quickly shaking your head as your breathing picked up.

1,2,3 1,2,3 you repeated to yourself as your fingers took alternating taps against your thumb.

“let me take you to the nurse”

“i-im fine, really, thanks” you blurted out, standing up before beelining it to crewel. even as your legs carried you swiftly through the isles, you felt eyes rake the back of your body, scan every part of your being.

lord you just wanted to burst out into tears. never late to the party, your vision blurred as tears threatened to slip from your waterline down to your cheeks.

change of plans, you walked past crewel who was busy helping yuu’s group to notice you quickly shuffling to the door.

opening it gently, you all but slipped through the crack. closing it softer than you opened it, you side stepped to the wall and just- breathed.

oh you thought it was cute breathing? HAHAHAHHA. wrong

gasping for breathe, you looked down the hallways. once reassuring that it’s all clear you speed walked down the corridor. you heard a door open behind you as you kept your pace, you didn’t know where you were going but you needed space.

“y/n!” your body jerked to stop, but you kept walking. you couldn’t recognize the voice and you figured ‘hey there’s probably like 20 y/n’s here, they’re probably not talking to me!’

“y/n! wait up!!”

looking back, you saw a blob of brown hair quickly make its way towards you.

slowly, like a deer caught in headlights, you made your way towards the blob. it was probably yuu.

right you were, as the closer they came the more you were able to make out their features.

“hey” you greeted, waving awkwardly as they slammed into you, arms wrapping around you tightly.

you squirmed uncomfortably, yuu being perceptive got the hint and flung off you like you had a disease.

“profesor crewel gave me permission to take you to the nurse! of course i had to convince silver not to go with us, but he wouldn’t budge! so he’s coming with your stuff after class!”

why they were so preppy after you almost had a panic attack (almost??) annoyed you slightly, yet you couldn’t blame them. they didn’t know.

silently, you nodded and started walking to the nurse again. you couldn’t see it, but yuu was waving to the small group that formed by the door; the first years. yuu only followed you once they all were pulled inside.

the majority of the walk was spent trying to calm yourself down. yuu stayed silent, trapped in their own world to give you time to reflect.

you were about to grab the handle to the nurses office when you noticed yuu walked right past you and the door.

“yuu you passed it”

“i know”

…

“wait you were serious about going to the nurse?”

you shrugged, i mean, what else would you do? crewel would skin you if he found out you skipped.

“i don’t wanna be made into a coat”

yuu chuckled, motioning for you to keep walking with them. looking between an inching away yuu and the red, ‘nurses office’ spelled out on the glass door, your feet moved on their own as your hand lingered on the knob.

yuu cheered as they walked back to you before guiding you in the middle of the hallway. far from the nurses door.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

you groaned, fisting your hair as you remembered what made you spiral. slamming your hands into your face, you grumbled out a response. yuu leaned closer, jokingly telling you to repeat it.

“he complimented me”

yuu stopped walking, hands hovering your shoulders as their eyes asked for permission to touch you. nodding, you were met with a gentle impact of their hands on your shoulders as they lightly shaked you.

“you started crying cause he complimented you??” they laughed, going on and on about your ‘crybaby rizz,’ and ‘how he looked like a kicked puppy because he thought he said something wrong.’

“i- i wasn’t crying!” you argued, but you both knew that was a lie as you cried easily at things.

that wasn’t the reason though… you wanted to tell them, yet when you opened your mouth to tell them what really happened, your throat closed up.

it wasn’t he compliment, but the fact that everyone was watching you. every single pair of eyes in that classroom put you under a microscope and inspected you like an amoeba when you laughed.

and the fact that most of them watched you storm out of the classroom in emotional turmoil made you want to claw your eyes out.

you sighed, knees buckling as yuu’s hands kept themselves purchased on your shoulders as you caught yourself.

“are you sure that’s it? you can tell me anything you know” they looked so worried, brows furrowed, smile long gone from their face, and their nose was even crinkled.

but no matter how strong your throat was, it would never be able to withstand the flood gates that opened once yuu said those magic words. “it just… everyone was staring at me- and i mean staring. like i was an animal they’ve never seen before at a zoo! last time i checked i wasn’t a animal on display! it just made me really conscious about… well everything”

yuu’s head tilted in thought “do you know why they were staring? did you do something?”

“… i laughed”

“… you… laughed?”

you nodded

“wait i’m confused, why the hell would they all look at you then”

“RIGHT” you yelled out, the knots in your back loosening the tiniest amount. no matter hard you tried to wrap your head around it, you laughing shouldn’t have been such a spectacle. yet it was.

“i’m never laughing again- OR going to that class again, i cant, ill die” you hunched over, curling into yourself as you dig your palms into your eyes as you let out numerous groans and sighs. even shaking your upper body for added effect.

yuu chuckled, patting your hunched over form “well i think you should laugh more, only for me though! cause i like it when you smile just at me!”

you rolled your eyes, commenting how greedy they were, and how one could get the wrong intentions based on wh-

“no i want you to get the wrong intentions. well, the right ones for me anyways. i’ll let silver have you for a bit, but make sure you only smile for me, ‘kay!” their arm slid down your back before it found the dip in your lower back.

freezing slightly, your eyes slowly trailed from the floor to yuu. their hand laid there for a moment, almost like they were engraining how you felt under their touch in their mind, before they quickly moved their hand back up to your upper back.

keeping you in their grasp, they started yapping as you two kept walking down the hallways.

they didn’t bother to wait for you to talk

you couldn’t notice, of course, but while yuu’s hand was in the small of your back a certain someone from class had interrupted the moment.

yuu being yuu didn’t tell you, as they were already gone when you started walking again.

—

i wrote this on the toilet.

why does no one talk about how AWFUL it would be if someone with social anxiety got transported to twisted wonderland 😭

like i’d have ZERO friends, expect for 1 or 2 people cause DAMN

[hollowsentinel]

Heck it. Day drinking

[suzukiblu]

A bit more of "Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids".

They finish eating, and Pa pays with the strange paper money and gets metal tokens back again. Are they a receipt, Kara wonders? Or are they some kind of money too, or something else altogether? 

For all she knows, this species eats metal and they’re some kind of complimentary snack. Probably not, since the clothing store handed them out too, but again, she doesn’t know. 

They go back out onto the streets of Smoll-Veel and head back towards Ma and Pa’s transport, but they don’t actually get there before–

“Jona-Than! Mar-Tha!” an alien voice calls from down the street, and Ma and Pa turn towards it. Kara tightens her grip on Kal reflexively and tries to keep smiling. An unfamiliar alien comes up to Ma and Pa and starts chattering excitedly, their face unnervingly animated and hands gesturing constantly. Kara’s never seen anyone speak so expressively but her own parents, and they had the decorum to do it privately. 

That doesn’t seem to be how things are done on this planet, though. 

This alien has flat brown hair and peachy speckled skin, and they’re wearing a long ankle-length robe but have bare arms and no undersuit, strangely enough. A lot of people on this planet just don’t seem to wear much clothing, it seems like. Kal burbles curiously at the new alien around his toy’s ear, and they look surprised and look from him to Kara, and then back to Ma and Pa. They ask something, Kara thinks, and she tries not to tense. 

Ma says something–Kara catches words that sound like “foss-turr” and “chyuld”, but nothing she understands, until Pa speaks up too and says something that ends in “Kent”. 

She knows that word, she thinks in relief, and points at herself. 

"Kent!" she repeats, nodding eagerly. No, she still doesn't know the aliens' language, but she's assuming being a farmer isn't a job that's too heavily dependent on language, and Ma and Pa will be likelier to let her stay on long enough to learn a bit more about this world if she helps out, she’s sure. 

Ma and Pa get the oddest looks on their faces, just for a moment, and then both look so incredibly pleased and give her the kindest smiles they’ve given her so far. 

They must really need another farmer around, Kara thinks. 

Well, that’s lucky for her and Kal, isn’t it? 

[dabisbratz]

LIPLOCKED — yuuji itadori+megumi fushiguro x male reader

w.c: 2.2k

cw: nsfw, vanilla! short, first kiss, fingering, rimming, polyamory, praise, cliffhanger (kinda) ending, slow n steady, brief mention of horror movie elements, ambiguous genitalia, virgin reader, bottom!reader, all characters depicted as 18+

a/n: i was writing this mid-paragraph when i realized we reached 2k!!! imagining that many ppl in same room, staring at me, is so terrifying… but i’m glad it’s you guys!! thank you so much!! it means the world to me.

Three boys step into the crisp, winter air with miscellaneous bags draped over their strong arms. Railings are decorated with a thin, frozen chrysalis, where you catch a small glimpse of yourself in passing. Not too bad— nothing compared to your boyfriends, though. With their pretty faces and pretty eyes… Pretty lips and pretty hair. It’s gnawing at you.

Wafts of chilly air against your poorly concealed skin keeps you alert, a tremor racking down your spine as your boyfriends—Yuuji and Megumi—walk before you. There’s something on your mind, lilliputian embers of shame etched into the details as you watch them walk, confident strides that guide their movement. Megumi’s dark hair bounces with stride, his pale hands stuffed into the pockets of his black sweatpants and chin buried beneath the collar of his matching zip-up. Should’ve worn a coat.

Your teeth chatter, loud as they click against each other— but neither seem to notice. Maybe it’s the growing distance as you trail behind, chewing at the insides of your cheeks. You scan their bodies from behind, try to imagine the muscles of their backs rippling while they walk— how the tendons in Megumi’s hands flex and bend as he curls them into fists. The broadness of Yuuji’s shoulders, how his strong legs bend with each step. The cotton-candy tufts of hair that look soft and smooth… the way dark hair curls up at each end.

You’re approaching Yuuji’s home, in the heart of Sendai city, where the trees adjust themselves and prepare for spring's welcome. There’s a high blush at the apples of their cheeks, peachy and pink, that decorates their boyish faces. Your eyes linger to their lips, shiny and moisturized, as they move to speak. You want to press your lips against them so badly, kiss them, but…

You don’t know how.

There’s a worry to your lips, plump and pouty as you clasp your cold hands to your chest. The tremble isn’t just from the cold, there’s a shiver dancing down your spine as you imagine their lips on yours, warm and inviting and wet. Heat tugs at your skin, and despite the cold air being pushed past your body, you’re warmer than ever.

Yuuji invites you inside with a smile, already shuffling to kick off his shoes before he’s even through the door. A small smile pulls at your lips, admiration blooming in your eyes as Megumi walks through with a solemn nod, and invites himself in.

Have they kissed before? Eachother, at that? Your eyes follow Yuuji’s movements, the way he jumps onto Megumi’s shoulders and grins when the man suggests a future trip to a hot spring. They’re impossibly close, Yuuji’s lips ghosting over Megumi’s flushed cheeks with barely half an inch to separate them.

A frustrated whine exudes from your throat as you stand in the doorway, body stuck between hot and cold as the wind blows against your back— but your front ignites with heat.

What do you say? Hey, Yuuji! Just wanted to know if you’ve made-out with anyone before! Hey, Megumi, wanna lock lips? Hey—

“Hey, honey? You okay?” Oh, Yuuji. His voice is kind, still a pretty chirp that remains syrupy sweet as he waves his large, scarred hand above your face. “Your eyes look… Funny. C’mon, don’t stand in the cold.”

You stare back dumbly, eyes glassy as he pulls you forward and shuts the door behind you. Megumi’s seated on the couch now, remote in hand as he flicks through his choice of horror movies. His cheek envelops his palm in lukewarm warmth just before he lifts his head, sniffling as he soaks in copious amounts of air through his nose. The muscles of his cheek tense, having been squashed against his palm for a despicable amount of time. But it seems he’s caught your gaze, the tiniest fragment of a smile gracing his lips. He’s inviting you to sit.

How long have you been standing around?

Sit you do, unzipping your coat and folding it into a neat square as Megumi makes room for his boyfriends. you hadn’t noticed it before, it’s much warmer in Itadori’s home. Warm, tinted with yellow and full of something that makes you feel sleepy. Comfy. Vulnerable.

You want to tell them.

Yuuji settles next to you, so you’re between them. You feel your body sinking into the faux leather by the minute, a hazy edge dancing along your eyelids as you make yourself comfortable, comfy enough to fully relax. Their warmth is so inviting, holds you close like a childhood blanket, feels soft against your skin. You can’t help but rub your eyes, nodding your head despite the oh, so exhilarating display of fake blood and guts projecting on Yuuji’s flatscreen TV. Guess being a sorcerer really does get you somewhere.

“Are you sleepy?” Megumi asks, tearing his gaze away from the particularly teamy cutscenes of two characters—who look oddly perfect, might you add— shedding their clothes as they make-out. Would that… Be the same for the three of you?

“No, not that…”You’re quick to shake your head, pushing yourself up by your palms. They dig into the respective thighs of your boyfriends, punched sounds escaping their mouths as you sit up— much more alert now. They quirk their brows in unison.

You need to tell them.

“I don’t…. get…it?” The words tumble from your mouth, uncoordinated and enveloped in confusion. There’s a beat of silence as you gesture to the TV, watching the camera pan down milky thighs. It’s like a metaphorical record stops, scratches dead-center as your boyfriends whip their heads around to fully look at you. Your eyebrows are furrowed, gaze stuck on the embroidery of Yuuji’s pink letterman jacket. You’d rather look there as opposed to their faces, sure their handsome features are compacted into disgust.

“You don’t get ‘it’?” Yuuji echoes, an amused lilt in his voice as he nudges Megumi with a leather-clad elbow from behind you. The raven-haired male grumbles, blinking at you with an unreadable expression. “Like, sex, you mean—?”

“Or kissing?” Megumi cuts in, eyebrows pinched as his hands make fists against his sweatpants.

“Here,” You must be dreaming, you’re sure of it, because Yuuji’s hand is on your face— your cheek, and your vision is distorted by his handsome form. He’s close, too close, and his body heat permeates off his skin like a broken heater. Too hot. “Let us teach you.”

You nearly jump out of your skin, a tiny sound parting your lips as Megumi’s lips press against your cheek, soft and sweet and gentle. Zero hesitance behind it, almost as if he’s been thinking about it as much as you have. You deem it impossible, you’ve spent many sleepless nights imagining their lips on yours, how perfect they’d fit, how syrupy their tongues would taste… how the muscle would feel. Your stomach churns.

You let out a breathy sigh before your brain can catch up to your heart, the thrum loud in your ears as Itadori swivels you around to face him. You may as well be on Megumi’s lap, draped on his thighs as Yuuji inches forward to close the space between you.

“So we’re your first?” He says, pink hair bouncing as he leans down to focus his gaze on your lips. His tongue briefly darts along his own, wet and bubblegum pink. It’s like your senses have been put on overdrive, every touch is sensitive and lingering. Megumi’s fingers trailing up your arm, Yuuji’s hands resting at your waist. The sound of their breathing, quiet and hitched… The ambiance of the t.v., full of suspension and anticipation, much like your racing mind.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you nod.

Yuuji’s pupils blow wide, cinnamon eyes glistening as he blinks down at you. His laugh is breathless and rushed, like he’d been holding it in, and Megumi seems to share whatever similar thought is racing through the man’s head. Like clockwork, you feel their lips at the corners of your mouth, pillowy and feathery as a warm hand ghosts over your neck and holds you in place. It’s a grounding feeling, the warmth of pale palms against your throat.

You can’t help but hold onto the wrist anyway, fingernails barely scratching the surface of skin. Megumi’s hand, you’ve deduced, runs slightly colder than Yuuji’s. Rougher, too.

But his kiss isn’t any less soft, quite the contrary. It grows softer by the second, and you feel like putty in their hands as they begin to take turns pressing gentle pecks against your lips, slow and steady. Megumi tastes like salted caramel, a contradictory flavor that dances on your tongue and leaves the moment it arrives. Yuuji tastes like fresh bubblegum at the center of a lollipop, with sugar that lingers in every crevice of your mouth.

You can’t help yourself, stuck on the new feeling of a kiss, as you cup their cheeks and pull yourself in deeper, messily raking your tongue over teeth and gums. It’s messy, a trail of spit connecting your lips every so often… but it feels good. What were you so nervous about?

As if it’s now your turn to get down the mechanics, Yuuji is quick to lean over and press a chaste kiss against Megumi’s plush lips, full of half-taken breaths and quiet groans.

“‘Gumi..” You breathe, loud and shaky as your eyes flutter open and your heart stutters in your chest. The butterflies in your stomach have soon left, swallowed by heat and electricity that makes your thighs involuntarily spread. “Yuu..”

“Shit.” Shit. Megumi makes an effort to shield his face in his bicep, which glows a bright shade of red and blazes with heat. It’s your expression— eyes glazed over and expectant—that has him so worked up, the way your eyebrows sinch and your mouth falls open, desperate for air. Desperate for him. Yuuji, shameless as ever, has his hands under your shirt, inching his fingers upward to play with the sensitive bud of your nipple, coaxing a few more sounds out of you. It was just supposed to be a kiss, but..

“I can teach you more stuff,” He breathes, eyes fixated on the imprint of his hands underneath your shirt. He should rip it to shreds. “We can, if you want. I’d say I’m a pretty good teacher!”

He watches a smile form on your lips, a bit dazed and delayed. If he could, he’d look right into your brain, see what’s got that pretty head of yours turning into mush. But he can’t, so he instead settles for lightly punching your nipples between his fingers, rolling the bud until you’re arching further into his hands and nearly off Megumi’s lap.

“Hm?”

“Yeah,” You rasp. “Please, please.”

The boy’s grin grows, stretching wide across his face as Megumi leans down to envelop you in another kiss. Hot and wet, his tongue glides over your own as Itadori makes busy tucking the hem of your shirt under your armpits. He watches your body writhe, squirming under his gaze and pervading heat while you buck your hips into the air. It’s clear you’re not even aware of the action, the way you’ve lost yourself in Megumi’s lips and have yet to come back to the surface. If a simple kiss gets you this worked up then…

“Yuuji!” You moan, loud enough to frighten yourself. Your legs are hiked up onto his shoulders, spread embarrassingly wide as he spears you open on his tongue. Itadori licks a fat stripe down your perineum, lets his spit pool and slide down your ass until he’s circling the cute, puckered ring of muscle that consistently winks back at him. “You said you’d… teach me.”

“Shh, sh. See? I’m teaching you..” His voice is muffled between your thighs, and barely coherent as his tongue slips past your rim. “Look, can you see?”

“Mm-mm, s’too deep inside—!” You squeal, gripping Megumi’s forearm for support. Realistically, you know if you really wanted to watch his tongue disappear inside you all you’d have to do is sit up on your elbows, maybe even ask Megumi for help. But you’re not thinking realistically, if you’re even thinking at all. His eyes are murky and dark, emerald turned clover, as his hand grips the base of your sensitive, twitching cock. Your body can't help but convulse, trembling in Megumi’s arms as he holds you still.

You can feel his erection on your back, right where your spine curves to meet your neck, and an overwhelming part of you wants to turn around and emulate the movements of his fist pumping your own.

“Need you to do something for us..” Megumi says, eyes lazy and eyelids heavy as he looks down at your twisting face. “First official part of your lesson.”

And then you feel fingers. Yuuji’s working you open, slipping in a long, wet finger that you can’t stop your hole from fluttering around.. It’s too much. You’d only gotten your first kiss like… what, thirty minutes ago?

“M’gonna—”

“Go ahead, keep goin’, You can’t tell which half of that sentence is for you, but it doesn’t really matter. Your thighs tighten, toes curling as you moan into your dark haired boyfriend’s arm. You’re close, so close, about to reach the peak that you’ve only ever been able to dream about, and—

“Look at Yuuji, pretty,” It’s commanded straight into your right ear, dances around in your empty brain until your gaze snaps downward, and umber eyes meet yours. “Watch his tongue go in n’ out. Be a good boy for him, let us teach you.”

You’re cumming.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Rage Monster

John Winchester x daughter!reader, Sam and Dean x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you have a bit of a “girl rage” moment, and the men don’t know how to react.

It was just one of those mornings. Everything, from the sound of your alarm to the sound of Sam and Dean’s chattering, was driving you absolutely insane. There was no particular reason for it, you just couldn’t deal with…anything.

“Hey kid, ready to go?”

Especially this. Driving all day in Dean’s car with his annoying music, stuck in a confined space with three men.

You were tired of it, to say the least, and you weren’t sure you could handle it today.

“Y/N?” John’s voice broke through your consciousness, and you looked up. “C’mon, it’s time to go.”

“Fine,” you hadn’t meant for the word to come out so aggressively, but based on John’s reaction, that’s how it came out.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam cut in before John could respond.

“Peachy,” you rolled your eyes.

“Someone’s grumpy this morning,” Dean said.

“Maybe because my brother’s a douchebag,” even though you mumbled it, you knew everyone in the room could hear.

“Hey, that’s enough!” John barked. “What is the matter with you?”

“Could you guys get off my case for five minutes?”

“Go wait in the car,” John demanded. “If you’re not gonna watch your tone, then you’re not gonna speak, understand?”

You knew you should quit while you were behind, but your anger was now more potent then ever.

“Fine! Any minute I get to spend away from you guys is a blessing!” You stormed out of the room, slamming the motel door behind you.

Dean was the first to break the silence.

“What the heck was that?”

…

John was the first one to venture out to the car, instructing the boys to stay in the motel.

He stayed silent for a long minute after he entered the Impala. If it was one of the boys, he would’ve started talking right away, demanding an explanation for that kind of behavior. But he’d learned somewhere along the line that things turned out better between you and him if he let you think things out.

Of course, if the next words out of your mouth were something sassy, he wouldn’t hesitate to set you straight. But he had a feeling that you weren’t as angry as you thought you were.

“I’m sorry,” your voice broke the silence, and John expertly hid the smile that threatened to creep up. He wasn’t about to let you off the hook so easily, and he certainly wasn’t going to let you see his relief.

“What was all that?”

“I don’t know,” John nearly cringed at the sound of your voice, which was thick and high-pitched. You were trying not to cry. You didn’t often cry, so he usually didn’t have to worry about it, but every once in a while it would happen, and he didn’t know what to do.

When the boys got emotional, it usually ended in some kind of loud argument, which he knew how to handle. Your emotions, however, sometimes came out differently.

“I’m gonna need something better than that.”

“I really don’t know,” you fisted your sleeves in your hands, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It—I just…I’m sorry, really. I’m just…tired, I guess.”

This was a pathetic excuse, and both of you knew it. But John was almost certain that you were being honest with him.

“Ok,” he said finally.

“Ok?”

“Well, no, what you did was not ok,” he admitted. “But I forgive you. But I don’t ever wanna hear that tone again, understand?”

“Yes sir,” your voice was clearer now, but you kept your face dropped down against your knees.

“If you’re feeling like that again, just say something and we’ll leave you be. But there’s no excuse for snapping like that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hey, look at me,” John finally let a ghost of a smile show on his face when your eyes met his, and you reciprocated it. “Well now that this is all cleared up, I think we should hit the road. But I think you should take a nap back here, alright? I’ll tell Dean to turn his music down, and we’ll leave you alone for a bit.” This was both a way to keep tensions down, and perhaps a way to get you to think about how you’d been acting. John was pretty proud of that little bit of parenting.

“Ok,” you agreed.”

John smiled again.

“Ok.”

[impala-dreamer]

Tell Me about ...the hair swipe

Begging For It

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Sexy and Delicious, 18+

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It was such a simple gesture. The sweep of fingers through long dark hair; the subtle shake of his head as the hair fell back into place. It was an unconscious motion that he barely took note of, just something that his hand decided to do now and then. It wasn’t important, it didn’t mean anything. It was just something that he did. 

Something that drove her absolutely wild. 

Y/N watched from across the big living room as Jensen pushed a hand through his hair again. He’d been letting it grow out lately, and he’d never looked more handsome. Occasionally, he’d threaten to cut it, so shave the beard, to go back to trying to look younger, but Y/N wouldn’t have it. She’d beg him to keep the hair longer, refuse to let him dye the grays from his chin. He was stunning in every way, eye crinkles and all. 

No stranger to his beauty, Y/N had no trouble ever looking at her man, but there was something extra in that hair swipe. There was just something about it that drew her attention, blocking out the world around them. Something so intimate in the way his fingers slid through his hair that made her heart race and her breathing slow. She wanted his hands on her body, wanted those fingers sliding through something even more luxurious and warm.

The party was loud. Someone was strumming a guitar off in a corner, and friends were chattering around her, but Y/N was lost to it all. She existed in a soft, pink bubble of arousal, the feeling growing stronger the longer she kept her eyes on him. 

Jensen could feel her staring and looked up with a shy grin. “What?” he mouthed, eyes narrowing in curiosity. 

Y/N bit her lip and cocked a brow. She lifted her glass to her lips and sought out the tiny plastic straw without looking. “I want you,” she replied silently, accentuating the pucker of her lips and closing them around the straw. She took a sip and the vodka and lime mixed on her tongue. 

Jensen licked his lips and looked down at his lap. He had a way of making himself seem so small and vulnerable while drawing her in deeper. He lifted his eyes and looked at her through a curtain of hair. 

She took a deep breath as the racing pulse settled between her thighs.

He lifted his right hand and her eyes went wide. 

He pushed his fingers through his hair and her composure snapped. 

He barely knew what was happening as she rushed across the room. The dregs of her drink sloshed from the glass and dampened his knee, but she covered it up quickly as she straddled his lap. 

“What’re you do-”

She swallowed his words with a heavy kiss and rolled her hips over his dick. Her free hand tugged through his hair and pulled, making him moan deeply into her mouth. 

“Fuck…” 

When she pulled back, his eyes were glazed and his lips were full, shining from her kiss. 

“You’re making me crazy,” she whispered, leaning to lick at his ear. “Playing with your hair all night like you’re not begging me to pull it.” 

Jensen sucked in a private hiss and set his hands on her hips. 

If anyone was watching, they’d see how his fingers tensed there, wanting to reach further down and grab her ass, tug her closer, and rut up into her. But, they stayed put, locked around the soft curve of her waist. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he lied, turning circles with his thumbs underneath her shirt. 

The secret touch made her skin sizzle and she yanked on his locks once more. 

Jensen bucked his hips unconsciously and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Um-” 

Y/N smirked against his ear. “Wanna find an empty room?” 

He shivered and his grip tightened. “Fuck yes, I do…”

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[ohtobeleah]

Best Worst Christmas // Jake Seresin

Summary: After some life altering news. You confide in Hangman which leads you to ticking off something incredibly important on your bucket list.

Warnings: Terminal illness. Mentions of death. Dark humour. Jake Seresin x Reader. Angst & fluff—Jake being just the best version of himself.

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: TRUST ME TO DO THIS. Because we can’t have anything nice here. Even at Christmas time. Got this idea from Bianca’s story line from Shameless. Not your typical happy go lucky Christmas fic.

Slow motion. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. From the way Bob brought the lip of his glass of lemonade up to his mouth to hide his infectious smile to the way Bradley twirled Phoenix under his arm and pulled her into his side. Dancing to whatever song had been blaring from the jukebox. 

Slow. Slow and silent. You couldn't hear a single thing beside the high pitched ringing in your ears that sounded like just the right pitch to break the glass of the windows out front. No laughter, no music, no mundane chatter from other patrons littering the Hard Deck on this oh so average Friday afternoon. 

Except there was nothing average about being told just forty five minutes ago that you were dying. Merry Fucking Chrismas. 

“I'm sorry, Payback.” You shook your head softly as you blinked a few times, the ringing in your ears clearing as everything seemed to come back into real time, sound and all. “What did you say?” 

“I said you don't look so good, Jake mentioned you left early for a doctor appointment off base, you good?” 

“What is Hangman doing with my name in his mouth?” You spat before you took what was left of your beer into your mouth, skulling the burnt amber liquid like there was no tomorrow. For you there really wasn't all that much time left. Paying attention to how your liver processed alcoholic beverages had become an afterthought. “But yeah, I uh– I did.” 

“Something any of us should be worried about?” Payback had always been a kind and gentle soul. You envied his passion for all things Christmas. His ugly Christmas sweater told you everything that you needed to know, his was down bad for the holiday season. “Nut?” 

“Everything’s just peachy keen Fitch, you don't gotta worry about me.” You tried your best to hide the ever mounting pressure you felt in your chest through a pained smile and soft gaze. “But–” You held your empty glass up as you twirled around on the barstool you'd been sitting on. “I'm tapped so I'm gonna grab another beer and then you and I are gonna have a game of pool once shit for brains is finished showboating.” Reuben followed where your eyeline had evidently landed and low and behold there stood none other than Jake Seresin, claiming his title as undefeated pool champion with a grin so prominent on his face it made you feel sick to your stomach. “Be right back.” 

You slid off the stool and fixed the ‘Christmas’ dress that had been sticking to the back of your thighs. It wasn't anything special, just a red mid length dress that fit the Christmas attire that had been mandated but Reuben Fitch himself. Head and only member of the party planning committee. It wasn't anything special, but at least the dress was red, right? 

You'd been excited for the staff Christmas party for months up until the moment your doctor had sat you down and handed you a one way ticket to the afterlife. You thought maybe the reason you'd been feeling so unwell over the last few weeks had been an imbalance in your birth control or a shift in seasons or just something, anything other than what your final prognosis had ended up being. 

“What can I get you Nut?” Penny asked when she saw you leaning against the bar, card in hand, swinging on the barstool. “The usual?” 

“Uh can I get a double Jamison please Pen, on the rocks if you could.” Penny got to work fixing up your order as Jake slipped in beside you. Not turning his head in your direction as he fished his wallet out from the back of his jeans as he sat. The stupid matching Chrismas shirt he wore with Bradley looked ridiculous on him. Only Bradley Bradshaw could pull off a Christmas themed Hawaiian shirt. It wasn't Hangman's usual attire, it looked idiodic on him in the best way possible. 

“Another beer if you can Penny, extra tenner on the bar for you too.” Jake was, if anything, a charmer at heart. But despite his ability to smooth talk his way out of any situation and into anyone that had a hole he could put it in, you couldn't stand him. “You seem even more shrewd than usual this afternoon there Nut, not feeling the Christmas cheer?” and he couldn't stand you either. Or so you both led on. 

“Bit me.” Penny slid you the class, brown bourbon had never tasted so good before as you downed the double shot you ordered before slamming the glass back down. It wasn't the best move you could have made because the second you swallowed? Your stomach churned. “I gotta go.” You were quick for a woman who could barely walk in heels, racing towards the nearest exit without so much as causing a scene. Leaving Jake in your dust as he almost gave himself whiplash trying to crain his head fast enough to keep up.

“Wait, hold on the parties just getting started?” Jake took the beer bottle from Penny, being gentleman enough to say a quick thankyou her way before making a dash after you towards the front door. “Nwet hold on!” Your call sign had you as the Goddess of the sky. The name originating from Egyptian Mythology, but for some reason or another that had been shortened even further. Everyone just called you Nut for short. 

“Not now Hangman, I’m serious I’m not fee–” You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence before you were throwing up the contents of your stomach in the nearest pot plant on the front deck. Down on your knees as your hands gripped at the ceramic. Coughing and splattering as Jake put his beer down on the railing and balled your hair into his first to keep it from falling into the backsplash. 

“Alright, I'm cutting you off killer, how much have you had to drink?” Jake crouched down beside you as you sat back on your heels, whipping your mouth on your forearm. “You good?” 

“Get me another drink and I'll be even better.” You had heard loud and clear what Jake had said but just chose to ignore it. You didn't have much choice anymore. Jake just looked at you like you were on another planet. His eyes wide as his mouth fell slightly open in shock. There weren't many people who could render Jake Seresin speechless–but you always seemed to manage. 

It was the same look he gave you whenever you'd get into a heated argument over training sessions or whenever you’d go head to head in another one of your PTI’s latest workouts. The same look he gave you when you said you were fine when you had to miss the last few days of flight training, the same look he gave you when he found you making your doctor's appointment in the rec room between his runs. He looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky just for him and once he’d finished admiring them you'd knock them out of the sky just to watch them shatter before him. Unpredictable and oh so beautiful. 

“Uh, no–I'm not gonna get you another drink when you're throwing up in Pennys plants.” 

“It's not the alcoholic, Jake.” You sighed out in response as you pressed your palm to your forehead. 

“It most definitely is I can smell it on yo–” You didn't know why, out of all the people you could have told first. Your Parents, Your Commanding Officers, any of your colleagues that seemed more and more like family every day, you chose Jake fucking Seresin to drop the biggest life ending bomb on. The worst Christmas Present ever. Deep deep down you knew exactly why. But there was no time left to figure it out now. 

“Jake it's not the Alcohol.” You cut him off, shutting your eyes as tight as you could because you couldn't look at him when you told him. “It's cancer.” 

“What?” When you opened your eyes again Jake's expression had softened to something you’d never seen before. “What do you mean it's cancer?” This couldn't really be happening could it? You wouldn't be cruel enough to play such a sick joke on him. But with the way you were looking at him right now? Jake felt his heart collapse into his stomach. The love of his life had cancer? “What do you mean by cancer Y/n?” Jake repeated as he brushed your hair away from your shoulder. “You aren’t being serious right now are you?” You didn’t respond right away because you were stunned at the saddened and stunned look Hangman had been stricken by.

“What I mean by cancer is that I have a shelf life.” You tried to make the moment a little more lighthearted. “A cosmic fuck you when you were just getting started huh.” It was the hardest thing you'd ever done, to sit in front of the man you loved to hate and hated to love and tell him you were dying. You hadn’t even had a chance to see what you could have been. You'd both been too caught up playing the long con that you'd wasted whatever time you had. 

“What's the uh–?” Jake didn't know how to ask as he stood with you and moved over to the nearest table that was clear and free. “What's the prognosis?” 

“Stage three Pancreatic–well basically stage four but—” Silence fell as Jake sat beside you completely stunned. His mind was running a million miles an hour, thinking of all the times you’d smiled at him. Beamed his way whenever he taunted you or teased you for something stupid and meaningless. You took everything like a champ because you could dish it out in return. He’d learnt to expect an elbow to the ribs whenever you had this one particular look in your eye. 

“And what's the going rate for stage three?” Jake wanted to hear you say at least something promising, but that wasn’t the case at all.

“Two Percent, Doc said even that was being generous.” His heart stopped for a moment. This wasn’t happening, not to you. Not to the one woman he had ever loved.

“Okay but what about chemo? What about other treatments that could surely raise that number up right?” 

“Oh, I ah–I don't wanna do any treatment.” That knocked the wind right out of Jake, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Like the entire world had just been knocked out from under his feet. “I saw what it did to my friend's mother Cathy, she spent whatever time she had left being pumped full of poison, because of it she became so weak she couldn't enjoy the things she could have been while she still had time.” 

“You can't not try Y/n.” Jake had moved as close to you as he possibly could. So much so it was easy enough for you to accept your own mortality with your head resting gently on his shoulder. “It's probably really selfish of me to say this but I'm not ready to just let you go.” 

“Please, spare me the hallmark card sympathies Seresin.” Scoffing, you took the beer bottle Jake had been sipping infrequently on. Taking a gulp of the yeasty beverage. “I don't need you treating me any differently now that you know I'm practically worm food.” It was the way Jake looked at you like he couldn't believe what you had just said. Did you expect him not to laugh or something? Strifally back a laugh so pure Jake waited for you to crack first, the symphony of highs and lows that sounded like the most prim and proper orchestra surrounded him as you laughed with him. 

“When did you find out? You seem to be dealing with the inevitability of it all well.” 

“About fifty minutes before I told you.” The smile had been whipped clean from Jake's face once again. The laughter that had just filled the atmosphere around you both now replaced with silence so heavy you were sure you had just been buried alive. “I haven't told anyone, and I wasn't planning to either.” 

Although you and Jake pretended most days to loathe each other's existence, there was no real animosity there. It was simply a childish act. Your mother had told you at an early age that boys who pulled your pony tail on the playground at school must have liked you. So you learnt play rough too, showing your affection by taunting and teasing between lingering eyes and daydreams of what it would be like to be with Jake as more than just whatever the fuck you were. 

“Why did you tell me? I mean I thought I would have been the last person on earth you would have spilled your darkest secrets to.” Jake felt nothing but content when you let your head fall back to his shoulder. He decided this time though to wrap a comforting arm around you—drawing you further into his side. 

“Believe it or not you were the first person who came to mind when I was told.” You'd thought about what Jake would say. If he’d even say anything at all when he found out, if he’d change the way he treated you or if there would be a small part of him that would be relieved that you wouldn't be around to annoy him anymore or challenge him whenever he thought he was better than you. “I thought maybe you’d be a good person to tell because you wouldnt look at me like I was weak.” 

“If there’s one thing you are, it's not weak.” Jake shook his head as he finished the remains of his beer. Standing as he offered you a hand. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.” 

“What? Where are we going?” You didn’t protest all that much—knowing what Jake had in mind was probably better than wallowing in self pity. You took his hand gracefully as he guided you to stand, meeting his gaze yet again. 

“We’re gonna go back to your place—“ 

“Oh, as if you would.” You cracked a smile as Jake looked at you a little confused. “I’m dying Hangman, don’t get that confused with desperate.” It wasn’t that you wouldn’t, you would in a heartbeat—but the feeling you got from your back and forth taunting just made the prize all the more worth it. Jake just stood in front of you, eyes trailing from your gaze to your lips then back to

Your eyes. Committing every last detail of your face to his long term memory. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, but we’re going back to yours.” 

“I told Payback I’d play a game of pool with him.” You explained as you tried to push past Jake, all he did was grip your wrist, stopping you from getting any further away from him. “Jesus Christ Jake what has gotten into you?” You stood there questioning his sudden need to be overbearing. 

“You just told me you have terminal cancer and you’re asking me what’s gotten into me! Jesus Y/n.” Jake let go of your wrist as he ran his hands through his hair, extinguishing a frustrated sigh as he looked anywhere but directly at you when he let his guard down. Nothing good ever came with Jake Seresin let his guard down, so he didn’t do it all that often. “I was just told the woman I’ve been obsessed with for the last year is dying and there’s literally not a single thing that I can do to stop it!” You let your walls down almost instantly at the confirmation, softening your shoulders and letting yourself just enjoy the satisfaction of the moment you thought would never come. Jake knew you were thinking—he could practically see the cogs turning in your head as you stood before him smirking a bashful smile. Suddenly doe eyed and willing to step a little closer. “What?” Jake scoffed as his lips curled into a smile that matched yours. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“So you’re obsessed with me huh?” 

“That’s your take on this whole situation?” 

“Oh yeah—“ Wrapping your arms around the back of Jake's neck you drew him all the more closer as his hands instinctively went to your hips. “Because I didn’t have to admit that I’m obsessed with you first.” You really didn’t give him a second to respond with some witty remark on how he was just saying it because he felt sorry for you—instead you let your lips press against Jakes softly. Testing the waters before diving into the deep end. Pulling back as you slowly opened your eyes. “It’s not fair of me to ask you to love me, especially knowing what you know—“ It was Jake's turn to cut you off before you could try and talk him out of spending whatever time you had left right by your side. His lips connected with yours as his hands came up to cup your cheeks as your tongue danced with his. Savoring every second because you’d always wondered what type of kisser Jake Seresin was. The answer? He knew what he was doing. 

“Doesn’t mean I won’t.” Pulling away momentarily Jake tan the pads of his thumbs across your flushed cheeks. “How long?” Jake didn’t really want to know the answer but he knew deep down it wouldn’t be long. 

“Anywhere between six months to a year.” It broke your heart the way Jake dropped his chin slightly at the realisation. “Depends on my lifestyle.” 

“Then I’m gonna be by your side for the next six to twelve months.” Jake promised as he held his hand up to wrap his pinky with yours. “Till the end of the line.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

Not a single person had seen you or Jake leave the Hard Deck unannounced. Payback had texted you a few times before you decided enough was enough and sent him a quick message saying you were with Jake before placing your phone on do not disturb. 

“Okay so you’re sure this one has the built in lighting?” Jake asked just one more time as you both stood back and looked at the piles of broken down Christmas tree that you’d sectioned into piles on your living room floor. 

“For the millionth time, yes—“ You’d leant Jake a pair of your ex’s old sweatpants that you’d forgotten you had until he was long gone. They fit snug, but well. In true Hangman style though? He was parading around your house, shirtless. Sweats hanging low leaving very little to the imagination. 

“Okay well, let’s start by fanning these prongs out before we attach anything to the trunk.” You’d changed into your Christmas pajamas—a cartoon version of the grinch saying it’s about to get naughty right across your chest. Jake had thought your house would be full of Christmas decorations by now—always the life of every holiday season. But when he stepped through the threshold and saw you hadn’t been bothered he knew that had to change. 

Especially if there was a possibility this could be your last Christmas. 

“You got your tree up yet?” You asked as soft melodies of Christmas songs played from your speaker, filling the living room as you and Jake sat on the ground amongst a sea of fake Christmas tree. Jake nodded softly as he worked to fluff out the prongs. 

“Yep, had it delivered the first of November—got a real one this year.” 

“Yeah you would be the type of person to have a real tree wouldn’t you.” It’s not that you had anything against it, it’s just that a real tree always seemed like so much work. “But if I get the chance to see next Christmas, I’ll get a real one.” 

“We can go Christmas tree shopping, new ornaments and all.” Jake offered as his pile grew a little faster then yours. “How come you hadn’t put your tree up yet?” He asked, perplexed. “You’re always drowning on about how the holidays are your favourite time of year.” You didn’t answer right away, you were going to make up some lame excuse but then you remembered Jake Seresin was the o my other person besides you general practitioner that knew you were dying. You could tell him. 

“I just haven’t really had the energy to.” 

“The cancers the reason you haven’t been flying as much isn’t it?” 

“Yep.” You popped your lips at the P. “Probably won’t be too long now before I’m stuck behind some desk in the admin building doing some mundane Johnny pencil pusher projects.” Sighing, you reached for another set of prongs. “Even a swivel chair will eventually make me gag—I don't know how much longer I’ll be able to withstand G’s and barrel roll.” 

“Well damn Nut, who’s gonna keep the top of my head from popping off?” Jake teased as he came to sit beside you, leaning back on the couch as he legs fell either side of you. Your back to his chest as he took the prongs you were working on from your hands and finished it himself. “You’ve always kept my ego from inflating.” 

“God help the crew when I’m dead and gone.” You chuckled softly as you left your sink into Jake's embrace. “You’ll just have to remember who’s the goddess of the sky, I’ll still be around to kick your ass.” 

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna manage that killer?” 

“I’ll wiggle your ear whenever you do something stupid.” You grinned, reaching up and around to wiggle Jake's earlobe. “Like that, whoever you get a little too hot headed, you’ll feel me.” 

“Deal.” Jake smiled softly as he kissed your shoulder from behind. “Now, while I’ll sit here fanning these things out, why don’t you make a list of all the things you wanna do between the next six to twelve months?” 

“Like a bucket list?” You asked softly as you lulled your head back to catch the glint in Jake's eyes. 

“Exactly, whatever you wanna do, I’ll help you do it.” You really couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Settling back against Jake you started listing off things in your notes app. 

“I wanna get a tattoo, something stupid but meaningful—maybe even just something funny.” You’d end up getting a matching tattoo with Jake a few weeks later. Both in the same spot, on your tricep just above your elbow. Two hands pinky promising—till the end of the line written in calligraphy.

“Solid plan, I approve, what else Nut?” Jake reached for another pile to fluff up, almost having made his way through all the pieces. 

“I wanna skinny dip at the beach, at night, or even when the suns just starting to set.” Jake takes you. You both strip down and race towards the waters edge. You wrestle and fight until you're hooking your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. Kissing him like you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. His hands hold you up by your ass—and you squeal when a rogue wave knocks you both down. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

“Shameless Y/l/n, but deal—what’s next.” You add about six different things onto your list, telling Jake every single one as you both stand to place all the pieces of your tree together. Deciding that you were both committing to the entire project together. Making a trip into your garage for the ornaments. 

“Maybe I should have a threesome?” You held the ladder at the bottom of your manhole Jake had climbed up into to fetch the seasonal box. “Yeah, never had one of those before but maybe it’s worth checking out.” 

“Two guys or one guy and one girl?” Jake handed you the box before he jumped down with a soft thud. “Or you and two girls?” You just raised a brow in response. “Hey—“ Jake was quick to hold his hands up in surrender. “I dunno what your sexual preferences are! I’m just being inclusive.” He sent you his signature shit eating grin. “But uh, pencil me down for whatever you decide.” 

“You wouldn’t be included in the girl on girl fantasy.” You gained back as Jake took the box back from you, walking side by side down the hall back to your living room. 

“But you’re saying there’s a chance I’d be included in the other two choices.” You never do end up having a threesome, it never actually makes the list. “Can’t say I haven’t dreamed of that a few times.” 

“Really? Funny that, I had a dream that I dropped you down a well just the other night.” You didn’t even look Jake's way as you fished out a few ornaments and started hanging them on the tree. Jake followed curiously. “And get here you are dreaming of having sex with me?” 

“I definitely like my dream a lot better—“ You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you shook your head, turning on your heels to fetch more ornaments. 

“I’m not having sex with you Hungman.” Jake raised his eyebrows in response to what you’d called him over your shoulder. “Isn't that what they all call you?” 

“Seems a little rude, and also short sighted.” He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your neck as you tried to pull away. Secretly enjoying the affection you could have been experiencing for a whole year before now. “Add it to your list.” 

“I’ll reluctantly add it to my list.” It didn’t take you and Jake all that much time to finish decorating your Christmas tree. Stepping back to admire your work, you turned on the lights and dimmed down your overheads. Jake held his fist out for your to fist bump before he drew you into his side. You had told Jake you’d add to fuck him onto you bucket list—he even watch your write something down into your notes. But it wasn’t that. No—it was something much better. 

“Best worst Christmas ever, don’t you think Nut?”

“Best worst Christmas ever Hangman.” Turning into Jake you kissed him once again, only for a fleeting moment. “Thankyou for this, just being here—I felt like I was drowning at the bar.”

“Like I said, till the end of the line.” Kissing the top of your head, you asked Jake to say the night, it was the first time Jake Seresin had slept in the same bed as a woman and he didn’t fuck her. All he did was hold you till you fell sleep—and that’s when for only a few brief moments he let himself cry. He loved you, truly. 

***~***~***~***~***~***

Eighteen Months Later //

“Are you thick or are you fucking stupid Rooster!?” Jake barked as he walked down the tarmac towards his wingman. “I said break right and follow back and under—talley two at five o’clock low means exactly that!” Jake was seeing red. “Do you wanna get yourself killed in a real fight?” 

“Ease up, we’re alive and we still have the fastest time on the leaderboard—Coyote, Payback and Fanboy are nowhere near us.”

“That’s not the point, Bradshaw! You just didn’t fucking think!” Jake was seething, his face was red and if Bradley looked close enough? He swore he could see steam coming out of Jake's ears. “Something’s gotta be in there—it can’t just be air in that thick—“ Before Jake could finish, he felt a tugging sensation on his left earlobe. Shutting up instantly as he reached up to tug at the phantom sensation. 

“Nut got your ear?” Bradley asked as he tapped Hangman on the shoulder, Bradley had been the one Jake confided in when you finally passed on. He didn’t believe in the afterlife until he couldn’t let you go. “Mum used to say dad would whistle around the house, she’d smell his cologne too.” Bradley caught the sun catching on Jake's wedding band. You’d both decided fuck it one night and high tailed it to a Vagas to get hitched. “She’s probably trying to tell you to stop yelling at me!” 

Christmas had long passed and Jake still had his dead tree up. Something about taking it down meant saying goodbye and he wasn’t ready to do that. You’d only just managed to make it to new years before deciding you just couldn’t do it anymore. But you were wrapped to have two best worst Christmas’s under your belt. 

Jake held you close till you took your last breath, you weren’t in some hospital somewhere hooked up to all sorts of machines. No. You were down by the ocean, in Jake's arms. Talking about how you were so thankful to have completed everything on your lift. The final one being the most important. 

“Here—“ Jake remembers you saying softly as you handed him a letter. “I wrote them down so you’ll never forget everything you did for me.” 

Jake scanned the page of about fifteen different things you had done together, the last one though he never knew you wrote. He couldn’t help himself as he held you a little tighter, a little closer. He framed the letter and placed it on his bedside table—The tick next to number fifteen his favourite thing of all. 

Number 15: Know what it’s like to fall in love on the worst, best Christmas ever.

[stevesbestgirl]

Would you ever write for tangerine 🍊 Cause I would disintegrate of joy

Peachy

Tangerine x f!Reader

1922 words

Warnings: major spoilers for the first third of Bullet Train- for real, this follows the plot super closely, so please watch the movie first (I super recommend), mention of a dead body, alcohol, Tan being a flirt, maybe a little OOC Tangerine, but really he's just soft on reader, pet names, sexual content, swearing, thigh riding, reader really just says "fuck it, he's hot"

You gave a squeak of surprise as a disheveled-looking man crashed into the snack cart, pinching your fingers against the plastic seat edge. You ducked your head, stifling a curse.

“Hey, why don’t you watch where you’re goin’, mate? Bloody fucking hell, it’s not hard to watch out for a pretty lady, is it?”

You glanced sharply across the aisle at the man who had spoken, a chestnut-haired stranger with a neat mustache and sparkling blue eyes. The man who had bumped the cart muttered something in Japanese and continued on his way. While the girl staffing the cart was distracted, the handsome stranger across from you palmed two packages of cookies, tucking them in his coat and sending you a quick wink, as though you were in on the secret. 

You forced your gaze away, back to the open book in front of you, though you couldn’t stop a little smile, even sinking your teeth into your lower lip. 

“What is he, fucking blind or something?” he redirected his conversation back to the man sitting across from him, who had lighter hair and a darker skin tone. You stole another glance at the pair; they were wearing matching tweed overcoats, which was rather cute. You made a conscious effort to not eavesdrop, but he spoke to you directly again, “You alright then, love?”

Nodding quickly, you forced words out before you could fully process the fact that he was still talking to you, “I’m okay. Thank you- for speaking up, I mean.”

“Well someone’s got to, don’t they? Can’t have a pretty thing like you getting all banged up, can we?” That pulled a smile from you- a real one, which he seemed to appreciate, “Now that’s what I like to see.”

Your stomach was light at his attention and you found yourself wanting more of it, "What should I call my knight in shining armor?"

"Name's Tangerine." His companion made a comment you couldn't make out and received a glare, "And this here is Lemon. And what's your name then, sweetheart?"

“Do I get to pick a fake name too?” you teased.

Lemon laughed aloud, “I think I like her.”

Tangerine leaned across the aisle, offering you one of the offending snacks from the cart, waving away your protest, “You were reaching for something, weren’t ya? Before that prick came banging down the aisle.”

“Really, I’m fine, I promise-”

“Look love, I don’t even want this. If you don’t take it, it’s going in the bin.”

Reluctantly, you accepted his offering, though you raised an eyebrow, "If you didn't want it, why'd you steal it?"

Tangerine opened his mouth to reply, but Lemon beat him to it, "Because he needs therapy."

That made you laugh, "Don't we all." Tangerine glared at Lemon, like he'd stolen something from him. You smiled at him again, “Thank you.”

“You grateful enough to give me your name then?”

“Oi-” Lemon nudged Tangerine, “Sleeping beauty is awake.” And indeed, the young man with face tattoos seated beside Tangerine was coming around. You had assumed they weren’t together. 

Your heart sank a bit as they both redirected their attention, seeming to forget about you; you missed when Tangerine stole a glance back at you, having already resumed your reading. You didn’t have to make too much of an effort not to eavesdrop this time- they kept their conversation low, easily slipping under the constant din of chatter and the rattle of train on track. 

At least, until an argument started. Tangerine was the first to escalate and soon the pair were shouting numbers back and forth at each other, counting off some kind of tally. You decided that now was a good time to get yourself a drink.

The bar was unstaffed; you grabbed a glass and mixed yourself a drink, taking a seat by the window. You considered leaving money on the counter, but Tangerine had given you a dangerous little confidence boost. He was gorgeous- and he was trouble. He made you want a bit of both. You finished your drink as the train pulled into the station, leaving the glass on the counter and heading back to your seat. 

At least, you went in that direction, only making it down a car’s length through the traffic of disembarking passengers. Once the aisle cleared, you were left facing the only other person still standing, Tangerine. His brow was furrowed as he scanned the car, not seeming to find what he was looking for.

“Everything alright?” You stepped a little closer, almost bumping into him as he began moving forward, still gazing around.

His gaze snapped to you with such intensity that you started back, but he quickly softened, catching your elbow to steady you, “I was wondering where you got to, sweetheart.”

You gestured over your shoulder, “Thought I’d get a drink. Although maybe I should have waited for you- you kind of look like you could use one.”

“Er- yeah. One of our things is missing- a briefcase. You mind helping me look for it? Maybe I can get that drink on the way.”

“That’s awful about your things, of course I’ll help you look.”

“Knew I could count on you, love.” He captured your hand in his, warmth encapsulating your fingers and flooding your cheeks as he brought you with him down the aisle. “Now, it’s a silver briefcase, with a train sticker on the handle.”

You trailed after him, scanning the cars and finding nothing. By the time you reached the bar again, Tangerine was visibly frustrated, releasing your hand to smooth back his hair. 

You paused a second before resting your palm on his bicep, "Don't worry, we'll find it."

When he glanced at you, there was a glint in his eye, but his gaze flicked up over your shoulder. You glanced back; there was a man leaning up against the window, slumped like he might be sleeping. 

Tangerine took your hand from his arm and squeezed it softly, "Gimme a second, love."

He marched over to the man, giving his shoulder a shake, "You mind giving us a minute here, mate?"

But the man's head lolled, making his center of gravity shift. The body slipped from the seat onto the floor of the car, revealing a knife wound on the chest and dead eyes beneath sunglasses. Your gasp was lost under the curse from Tangerine. Stumbling back, you bumped into the bar, making the glasses rattle on the wall.

Tangerine didn't move to comfort you right away; he watched the way you struggled to look at anything other than at the body, the way you tensed when you failed. 

Then he approached slowly, his hands raised, "Alright love, I'm gonna need you to relax for me alright?"

"How are you so calm?" His eyebrows drew in, making him look rather guilty and your stomach twisted, "It's not really your briefcase we're looking for, is it?"

He planted his fists on his hips, blowing out a breath, "Of course it is." He sounded offended that you would even ask. "Let's put it this way: that briefcase belongs to a friend of mine. And if I don't get it back and return it to him, he's going to be very, very angry with me, understand love?"

"Oh my god, you're a thief."

"I am not a thief," he protested adamantly."I'm an assassin." And whether you like it or not, sweetheart, it looks like you're involved now." 

He expected you to cry, to be completely honest. Or he thought maybe you'd hit him- it wouldn't be the first time that had happened. But he didn't expect you to grin, "Does that mean I get a code name?"

"Er, sure." He cupped your elbow, "You're taking this very well. You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." You raised an eyebrow, "I thought you wanted to find that case."

Tangerine lifted a brow, seeming impressed, "How about pumpkin?"

"Pumpkin?"

"For your code name, love, keep up if you can," he grinned.

“I’m going to choose to believe you’re trying to be cute and not commenting on my weight.”

“Alright, fair. Clementine ain’t too bad though.”

“If you call me Clem, I swear-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep working on it.” He snapped his fingers, “Got it- Peach.”

You crooked an eyebrow, “I don’t hate it. Give it a go.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in that signature smirk of his just before he leaned in, pressing you against the bar with one hand on your hip and the other on the counter behind you. “C’mere, Peach,” he breathed the words up your neck, his nose tracing the line of your jaw before he cupped it in his palm, ghosting his lips over yours.

And then he smirked again at the way your lips parted in surprise, making heat rise in your cheeks, "Not bad, hm?"

"Alright Tan, you've made your point," you huffed, placing a hand flat on his chest.

He captured your wrist between his fingers, "And now we're getting cozy with each other." His voice was almost a hum, barely audible over the train, but you heard him clearly.

Your breath seemed to catch in your throat as you met those sparkling blue eyes and then his lips were on yours. His hands slipped over your waist to cup your hips, pulling you toward him as though he didn't already have you pinned to the bar. 

Not that you minded, wrapping an arm around his neck, you threaded fingers into his hair and held him just as tightly. His soft lips explored yours, surprisingly gentle compared to the way his hands were groping at your waist. 

He slotted his leg between your thighs, grabbing your hips with both hands, "We've only got a minute now, love, so I need you to do exactly as I say, understand?"

You nodded, the breathy affirmation leaving your lips not sounding much like you, "Yes Tan."

"That's a good girl," he breathed, sending sparks right to your core just before he dug his fingers into your hips, grinding you over his thigh. At the sounds of your strangled moans, he smirked, "You like that, Peach?" One hand left your hips to cup your jaw, his thumb grazing your lower lip as he lowered his head to your neck again, tongue tracing over the sensitive skin there and he continued to guide you along his thigh.

"Come on now, pretty girl, be a peach for me, will you?"

He chuckled softly at his own joke, his mustache tickling your neck, but the humor was lost on you as your breathing grew rapid, the pressure of his thigh between your legs making you gasp with each movement of your hips, guided by Tangerine's fingers on your hip, which were sure to leave marks when he let go.

You cried out, your hips moving in time with his guidance without your direction as you chased your release.

Biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, Tan hummed, "This is only just the beginning, sweet Peach. Because you belong to me now." He slipped his thumb into your mouth as you rode his thigh, the taste of him on your tongue sending you over the edge.

"Tan, T-" convulsions racked your body as an orgasm swept through you, slackening your muscles and leaving you panting against Tangerine's chest.

He cupped your chin, stealing a kiss from your lips before he smiled, “Come on then, we’d better get moving.”

[dracoxmalereader]

I Hate Him

Draco x Male Reader

Context: Reader can be read as whatever house (?) But he is friends with the golden trio, so I was kinda writing it with Gryffindor!Reader in mind. Can take place in whatever year, I didn't write it to take place at any specific time in the canon other than 'at a time where things are not in active chaos' so do with that what you will. <3

Summary: Draco Malfoy hates you, he really does.

Requested by: 🤡🎻

Word Count: 452

Chatter and conversation swam in the air of the great hall. The candles hanging in the air above were moot against the aggressive sun of an approaching summer beating down in through the large windows. 

Though lively, Draco found that the echoes of joy paled in comparison to the booming sound of your laugh at the table across from him. He watched you, lazily picking at the food in front of him. A smile dug into your face and your head reeled back with every bout of giggles that Harry Potter and his stupid friends pulled out of you. How funny could they even be? How ridiculous your sense of humor must be.

He watches as you swat at Harry’s shoulder in amusement, huffing through his nose at the anger that boils under his skin. 

“Are you alright Draco?” Pansy Parkinson lays a hand on Draco’s shoulder, and he jerks back like he’d been stung. 

“Peachy.” He sarcastically mutters, rolling his eyes before returning his glare to you. 

Pansy’s eyes scan the table across, eventually landing on you seemingly having the time of your life with a certain trio of gryffindors. You were red in the face with laughter, visible tears pooling in your eyes. Draco’s inexplicable anger suddenly made sense.

“Ah,” Pansy started. “L/N, right? Is that his name?”

“I hate L/N.” Draco grumbled under his breath. Pansy wasn’t convinced. 

“Are you sure? It’s not just because he’s hanging off Harry and his friends?”

“You calling me jealous?” Draco finally turned his attention away from you, brows raised and a sneer etching into his expression at Pansy.

Pansy raised her hands and shook her head dismissively, opting not to anger Draco further. He looked back at you just as another bout of laughter escaped you. It felt like he’d been punched.

“I hate his stupid crooked teeth,” Draco bit out, venom lacing his words. “I hate his ridiculous haircut,” He watched you and the trio get up out of your seats and looked you up and down. “I hate his knobby knees, I hate him.” He let out a strangled sigh. 

His eyes stayed trailed on you, even as you playfully shoved Harry, the four of you all walking together towards the archway out of the great hall. He curled his hand into a fist, digging his blunt nails into his palm until it hurt, trying to distract himself from the pang of white-hot envy that twisted in his stomach.

Draco Malfoy hated you, and he hated himself for the way he desperately wanted you to be laughing with and hanging off of him instead. He rolled his eyes again and turned away, not ready to watch you leave.

Draco just hates you so bad guys, he totally doesn't want to hold your hand that's preposterous! What do you mean he wants to make you laugh just like Harry does? No he doesn't! (He does)

I been updating my Ravenclaw!Reader story on wattpad and ao3 but I've been too lazy to make the covers for them on pixlr so I'm just now getting around to doing that and posting them here TT so expect two chapters of that sometime in the next 3 hours. <3

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @dracoshusband @hyperactivepest @esperfraud

[flutterclouds]

Oh to be a creature in a vintage animal xenofiction novel illustration

[kicktwine]

“Ch’ari. What are you doing.”

The aetheric silhouette that is the Warrior of Light freezes in the middle of hobbling across the hallway. “I am… getting… a drink?” He says. 

“Oh?” Y’shtola raises an eyebrow. 

His aether flickers. The shape inches forward slowly, as if she were a dinosaur and couldn’t see him if he moved really slow. “I am… getting a very specific drink. From… Othard.”

“Are you now.” 

“…You are getting me a very specific drink from Othard?” Ch’ari tries. 

Y’shtola reaches behind her for her staff, and Ch’ari turns and scuttles as fast as his body will take him back into his room where he’s supposed to be. 

-

Alisaie scowls. “I am bored.”

“No kidding,” Ch’ari whines. “When are we allowed to leave?!”

“I am allowed to leave tomorrow. You will be staying here until you have resolved not to be a fool and throw your life away for a victory lap,” Alisaie snaps, and then her expression turns down. “Or at least until you can walk again.”

“Seems hypocritical to me. They’re letting you out early.”

“I’m almost healed!”

“By the loosest definition.”

“It wasn’t even a wound, Ari.”

“Hm.”

“Look—“ Alisaie says, pride in being Not Bedridden stoked by his dismissals, and pushes her way out of her bed at Dawn’s Respite to march over to Ch’ari’s bed, indignant. And still, notably, a bit shaky, after concentrated lightning magic left her too hurt to stand. Ch’ari still thinks they’re all stupid, every Scion, right back at them, for not tending to their own injuries well enough to heal themselves before pouring almost the entire Ragnarok’s worth of aether into him. Stupid, dumb, idiots. They’d already saved the universe at that point. We don’t need eight incapacitated scions when we could have had just the one. 

“You look like a baby amaro,” Ch’ari says, instead of voicing any of those thoughts. “Like a newborn foal. Damnation, looks like you’ll have to stay here and keep me company.”

Alisaie flicks him — gently, even though he’s not even got a head wound. “Ari. I promise we’re not going anywhere. And you know if you asked him to, Alphinaud would stay with you for days reading fantasy novels or textbooks at you for entertainment.”

His ears droop. “I know. But he needs to sleep.”

“And so do you.”

“And so do I,” Ch’ari grumbles in concession. “I am just not used to not moving. I want to kill something.”

Alisaie coughs out a startled laugh, and Ch’ari grins. “Gods, as do I, but we have our orders! Two weeks. No travel, no fights.”

“Sneak a coblin in here when you get out of this joint and I’ll pay for your sweets for a month.”

“Not a chance.”

-

“Not that I doubt your s-sSS-killed hands, Krile, I would never. But do bandages need changing thisoften?”

“In this specific case, yes,” Krile says, clearly not willing to entertain him while he chatters distractingly. “Might I remind you you were falling apart before we got to you with healing magics, and therefore you will be suffering the consequences for as long as a normal wound takes to heal naturally.”

“Peachy,” Ch’ari groans. He should have been better at avoiding that dumb voidsent Zenos summoned, but it always hid right out of his line of sight until it pounced. Clearly, a cheater, even if its master wouldn’t do a thing like that. Nah, he’d challenge him head-on, evening the playing ground until it was just strength against strength, no tricks, no unfair advantage. Pure, untouched adrenaline, bloodlust, the hunger for feeling alive. 

… Ch’ari will not miss him. But he will think of their encounters as long as it takes him to find something like it, if he ever does. Which is exactly what the prince wanted, drat. He should have taken Zenos to the Gold Saucer. Maybe he’d get really into chocobo racing instead of death matches. 

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by a sharp tug in his ribs. “Ow!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Krile says, already casting a light soothing glow over the sticky mess there. Ch’ari buries his head further into the pillow with a groan. 

The door creaks. “My, someone sounds grumpy they’re being tended to,” comes a voice, and Tataru trots in with a small box in her hands. Ch’ari’s ears perk up. 

“Am not grumpy, I’m injured. What’s that?”

“Medicine,” Tataru says bluntly, and then gets a sly grin. “And a handful of pastry fish, fresh from the oven.”

“Tataru you’re my favorite. Have I ever told you you’re my favorite? You are. Hands down,” Ch’ari says, already sniffing the air to catch the smell, his tail whacking the edge of the bed. “I don’t even care that it’s bribery to get me to drink that foul tincture, I love you.”

Tataru laughs, bright and open, and even Krile huffs a bit in amusement. 

-

Alphinaud is asleep when he wanders into the main rooms, and Ch’ari considers dropping something onto the table to wake him up, but decides against it. He’s not all that sure how mana works — or mana overexertion, or… well, Lyse called it a chakra, but Ari isn’t a monk, and he’s not sure what straining or breaking one of them entails. He just knows the kid needs to sleep a bunch to get his aether back, and Ari shouldn’t be startling him so bad he breaks something again. If that’s how that works. He’d rather not risk it. 

Instead, he wanders over to Estinien, who is brooding in his Dragoon Corner. Also seemingly asleep until one eye cracks open, trained on his approach. 

“Dragoon,” Ch’ari says.

“…Cat,” Estinien replies in greeting. Ari snorts, the joke he made about having nine lives clearly amusing or at least annoying the Elezen to this day. 

“Guarding your nest, are we? I didn’t think we’d see you stick around this long.”

Estinien grunts. “Aye. Under normal circumstances I’d rather be off by now. But as long as…” he frowns. It’s always difficult for him to differentiate between draconic instincts and his own, and then subsequently translate them into human words, something he and Ch’ari have only spoken of briefly when Nidhogg’s lingering presence wanted to clash with what was left of Hraesvelgr in Ch’ari’s body. Simultaneously feral and overtly made of higher thought, the presence of the dragon is as long-lived as the beasts themselves. “As long as my ward is in need of protection, I will stay,” he settles on. And then his expression squishes, pained. “And… the pink one threatened me if I were to leave without a clean bill of health.”

Ch’ari laughs, then covers his mouth quickly to muffle it. “Ah, the jailer. No escaping that.” 

“Indeed.”

-

“Raha, you need any help with anything?”

G’raha looks up from his books, surprised. The Warrior is standing over his shoulder, swath in bandages and a simple shirt and slacks, his tail swishing. “Do I need any help with anything?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no, I don’t think so… resigned to being monitored as we are, I have no new tasks which require my attention, and so…”

“Let me rephrase,” Ch’ari interrupts. “Please do you need help with anything.”

G’raha blinks. And then splits into a smile, ears giving a quick one-two wiggle. “My friend, I am quite sure we can find something to do. Something very calm and stressless, but something nonetheless. What is your opinion on magic circles?”

[neopuppy]

alpha step brother jaemin 😏

you went for it💀

warnings. step-siblings, thigh riding, kinda fluffy 👻

“aw mannn,” Jaemin pouts, releasing a loud dramatic sigh from the kitchen. the frown pulling his face down enough for you to notice from across the way.

“what’s up?”

he saunters over to the living room, plopping down to occupy the empty space at your side. the Alphas warm bare arm brushing against yours raising goosebumps to erupt across your forearm.

“my date cancelled on me! I reserved these haunted house tickets weeks ago!” his lower lip juts out even more as his vocals grow higher in pitch. not typically one to whine, it amused you to see your playboy step-brother upset over getting ditched last minute.

“I’m sure you have plenty of Omegas on speed-dial ready to jump at a chance to have Jaemin Na swoon over them for the evening.”

his lip quirks, tilting to look at you with cartoonish large eyes innocently blinking. “what about you?”

“ah, no.. you know I can’t handle scary stuff like that.”

“pleaseeee?” he grovels, dipping his chin to rest on your shoulder. the waft of his peachy scent tickles at your nose, flinching away to hide the deep inhale you take in. “Alpha will protect you from the monsters.”

Jaemin laughs, pushing you more to agree to accompany him. the alleged date he had planned now forgotten about, because he never really had a date. the idea that monsters ready to jump at you from every corner should be the least of your concerns sets a smirk on his lips.

“I promise I won’t let any of those monsters touch you.”

it shouldn’t be this scorching hot with October right around the corner, but rolling heat waves following out of summer into fall have you sweating as you stand in line. panic circulates throughout your gut faster, an immense fear worsening the amounts of perspiration secreting from your pores. groups of screaming attendees heightens your worry the longer you wait, squinting at the flames that rise above the exit each time crowds bust free shouting as they run from the house.

“you’re looking a little nervous there.” Jaemin’s low tone startles you, jerking in place as you wave him off.

“it’s..I mean— fuck, why did I agree to this?”

“because you love me?” his usual menacing smile feels comforting for once, making you force out a laugh to calm down. “listen, when Halloween’s over, this house isn’t even here anymore. it’s all for fun, harmless fun, alright?”

“easy for you to say, you watch Horror movies out of enjoyment.” you glare at him, nudging against his side regretfully as sweat smears on your arm. “that’s some serial killer shit.”

“you wouldn’t get it.” he grins, nodding ahead now that you’re the first in line. “you don’t need to be scared, I got you.”

he positions you to stand in front of him, the large expanse of his palms belting your waist to press your back against his built chest. the heat radiating off of him only making your head spin more between anxiety and lack of cool air entering your lungs.

the pseudo zombie butler at the entrance welcomes you in, belting out a boisterous manic laugh as you pass the threshold. each step you take into the dark hallway more of a struggle than the last, shaking too hard as you gingerly pat the toe of your shoe on the ground to be sure of your next step.

“it’s ok, it’s ok.” Jaemin coo’s near your ear, hot breath fanning down the side of your face the more he leans in, engulfing your frame with his like a shield of protection. “you think I’d let anyone hurt my little sister?”

step-sister… you’d correct him if your teeth would stop chattering long enough to let out anything other than a scream as costumed figures continue to jump out of dark holes shouting. the sounds of chainsaws revving up combined with ghoulish screams and murderous theme music resounding from speakers around you has you screeching.

“I can’t!” you cry out, twisting free from Jaemin’s hold to hide your tear streaked cheeks in the comfort of his muscular chest.

“hey hey,” your step-brother sighs, nuzzling his nose into your hair as his weighty hands stroke up and down your back. “what did I tell you? don’t you trust me?”

he waits for the feel of your head nodding against his chest, pushing your hair back to clear a space for himself. tilting your chin up, his nose trails lower to graze along your scent gland in a comforting way shared between siblings. “Alpha would never let anyone harm you.”

scenting calms you enough to regain your mind for a minute, quickly soothed by fields of peaches taking over the darkness around you.

Jaemin’s thigh nudges between yours to hug you tighter, his eyebrows lifting up curiously with another press forward. the heady strong scent of arousal twitching his nostrils the more he adjusts a space between your legs. “You must not be that scared..”

his smirk traces down your cheek, burning hot to the touch as his palms glide down to cup your bottom. a firm grip placing your core directly on his flexed thigh to bounce you up and down.

“Alpha..”

“you like it, don’t you?” he taunts, flicking the tip of his tongue out to tease at your parted lips. “Alpha protecting you from the boogeyman, dripping down my thigh like some stereotypical innocent virgin in a horror film.”

he’d laugh if he wasn’t so turned on, grinding you faster on his thigh to get you off. planning how to escape the haunted house easily, the sooner he can lay you out in the backseat of his car; the sooner he can have you screaming your head off once you’ve realized you never got away from the real danger.

“Alpha, I’m—“ your heavy panting echoes louder than any of the horrific sounds surrounding the two of you. too caught up by the bulging biceps rippling under your palms, the consistent jerk between your thighs smearing a mess inside of your shorts. clit overly-sensitive from the rough friction dragging back and forth.

“if you scream, I’ll fuck you right here.” he says, voice gone hoarse from straining his arms to fuck you down onto his leg faster.

“Alpha!” it’s more of a hiss, half lost and muffled between his pecs. shivering from fear and pleasure hitting you hard at once.

Jaemin sighs, stilling to allow you time to calm down and catch your breath. he’d have to force you to sit and watch a scary movie with him next time, maybe now you’d get it.

[covencupid]

We've Never Met

CW/TW: Violence, stalking, manipulation, amnesia/memory loss, minor character death, harassment, police mismanagement, eventual smut.

Pairing: Danny "Jed Olson" Johnson X F!Reader

Tags will be updated as needed.

Summary: They called you the "Miracle of Lily Lake" after you woke up from your month-long coma. You were alive after a brutal attack on New Years by a vicious killer that had targeted the residents of the sleepy town of Lily Lake, Texas. They say it's a blessing not to remember what happened that night. After several futile attempts to aid authorities, and countless therapy sessions that ended equally fruitless, you concede to the loss of your memory. Maybe it is better that you don't remember. He's gone after all. After you were found, there were no other murders that followed. It ended with you.

It was time for a change. Lily Lake held the remains of a life you could hardly return to. No one knew how to treat you, everyone wanted to be the one to wrestle a memory out of you. When the opportunity arises for a fresh start you welcome it with open arms and make your way to sunny Florida to give yourself a chance at a normal life.

Lily Lake was too much of a close call for Danny. The bitch totally went off script. It was time to ditch Texas. People were far too neighborly, and these state troopers hid in the long stretches of uninhabited land like lions in tall grass. Nope, fuck that.

Danny has started over in Roseville, Florida and everything is going peachy-fucking-keen. His job at the paper allows him to have one hand on the crime and the other on the reporting. Everything is coming up Danny in his new habitat, until he spots a far too familiar face, back from the dead and slinging coffee in his favorite coffee house. What the fuck?

A/N: Before you begin I would like to thank y'all for the support. When I say I'm rusty, I'm rusted, sat unused in a shed rusty. I will try to be diligent about tagging, but please don't hesitate to bring up anything you'd like tagged. I hope y'all enjoy. This chapter is pretty much all exposition, but we're getting to the meat soon. BIG HUGE FAT THANKS to @mamamemequeen for feeding me with inspo and reading this first. The title and this story is inspired by the Neko Case song of the same name. Listen to Neko. She will change your life.

We've Never Met

I

February 1991

        The cold chill of a soul snakes its way up the breathing tube into your lungs. With a lightning rod of pain electrifying your senses from within, this is what it feels like to be born. But there are no awakening cries from you, only a blearily shifting gaze that seeks to make sense of the blurs and sounds that are developing around you. As the soft edges harden into complete shapes, you pick up on the chorus of bell tones and chimes that heralded your arrival into this room. The world seemed to form beneath your weight that felt at once painfully dense and nearly ephemeral. While your senses flickered to life, your mind began to take stock of the room you found yourself in. 

       Your eyes scanned the clean, clean room. The blinds have been drawn closed but thin ribbons of light streamed into the room. The realization that you were in a hospital room hit at the same time as your throat felt the tube hitting its walls. The panic at the sudden awareness of your senses made your heart race. With a chorus of bells, two nurses burst into the room. There was a moment before they rushed to help you where they seemed to be just as shocked as you were to be in that room. 

What followed was a stream of questions that made you feel like an alien being interrogated after landing on Earth. Every answer you gave seemed to disappoint and prompt another question. After your back and forth with representatives from Earth you were left alone in the clean room for some time. You could hear excited chatter outside the door. Through the windows you could see the scrambling, scattering movements of the team of nurses that were previously fussing over you. They dispersed like a swarm of insects would under the flash of a sudden light. The moment of peace that followed was punctuated with an encroaching feeling of dread, but you couldn’t exactly place where it was coming from. As it stood, finding out the source of your anxiety was the least of your concern when your body felt like the meat had been wrenched from the bone and put back together in the wrong places. The dim light still felt like it shone too bright. You looked down at your arms to find them littered with cuts and bruises in the places not covered by a cast. The more you looked at them, the less you felt certain that they truly were your arms. 

Did your arms always look like this? Underneath the injuries, did they always look like that? What did your arms look like before? Before? Before what exactly? Something had to happen. If it did, and it most certainly did, you had to remember. You would remember, right? You could not possibly forget something that made you feel as though you were turned inside out. But where was the memory? Your mind desperately tried to grab at nothing. You tried to refer back to a blank space in your head. There was nothing to pull from. There was nothing but the clues of your wounds to make sense of. The click of the door being opened broke you from your steady spiral.

You looked up to see three men eyeing you with what looked like a mix of reverence and trepidation. The man in the clean white coat, the doctor, walked ahead of the two other men. He wore a warm smile and spoke in a measured, reassuring tone. 

“(Y/N), my name is Dr. Ortiz. I’m very glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, I’m ok.” The pleasantry rolled off your tongue without thinking. No, definitely not ok. “I’m not, I mean-” you took a moment to process what exactly you wanted to say to this doctor. Of the millions of questions racing through your head, none came to mind. Each complaint and doubt that bubbled in your mind died in your throat. You stared blankly at the doctor hoping he could look at you and just know, as a doctor, what was wrong with you and how to fix it.

“It’s ok, you must have a lot of questions, and we’re here to help.” Though you felt a bit more at ease at the warm reassurance from the doctor, that nagging dread kept ebbing in from the corners of your eyes. The doctor turned to his left and gestured to the man closest to him. “This is Detective Keller,” the detective responded by flashing a tight smile that did not reach his eyes. “And this is Lieutenant Garza,” the doctor gestured to the man on the detective’s left who opted to sport the same rigid smile while eyeing you closely. The doctor pulled a chart by your bed and flipped through the pages before exhaling a breath he didn’t seem to know he was holding. “What is the last thing that you remember?”

Well fuck.

Your mind went back to grasping at unseen straws. You had memories. You knew the sky was up, the ground was down. You… worked. Yeah, you worked, you had a job. At… somewhere. You remember your mom, her yelling at you before a winter dance your sophomore year of high school, her making you an easter basket of alcohol when you turned 21. What was in between? You remember drinking coffee with your sister when she bought that fancy espresso machine. That machine, she bought it with her bonus money. She got a bonus because… what did she do? She sold stuff? No, she wrote something? Advertising! She wrote copy, and she’s really good, and that year your old jeep broke down on the highway and you called your sister scream-crying about how much you loved her and how scared you were. Right, you loved rides in that thing. The Jeep. You remember going inside the car while it was raining hard. There was something wrong. It smelled wrong. Strong cologne, a presence you can taste. But there was nothing after or before. When did that happen? You held loose pieces that weren’t enough to give a satisfactory answer.

“I remember things, like my family and stuff. I don’t remember how I got here, if that’s what you meant.”

The men exchanged looks, a whole conversation had before you with eyes only.

“(Y/N), we know this is probably all very confusing, and we will answer any questions you have about what I’m going to tell you,” the detective inched closer. His tone was soft, but his face remained cold and speculative. “You were attacked in a home you were housesitting. We believe it was an assailant that we suspect is tied to a string of break-ins and murders around Lily Lake. What we know is that there was a struggle starting on the ground floor that moved to the second floor balcony. Is any of this sounding familiar? Any details you remember?”

Attacked. Assailant. Murders. Struggle. Balcony. Nothing.

“I was housesitting? For who?”

The men exchanged looks again. Silent disappointment shared between them.

“Kenneth and Delilah McGary. They told us you’ve house-sat for them before. We have reason to believe that you were not the intended target for this attack. Mrs. McGary had reported strange, threatening phone calls in the days leading up to the attack. The McGary’s believed that Delilah McGary was being targeted so they decided to make a sudden trip to the in-laws for the new year out of fear for her safety.” The lieutenant finally spoke up.

The names did not sound familiar, nor did any of the details that they claimed you lived through. Still, you felt a tug of resentment knowing that it shouldn’t have been you. It should be whoever Delilah McGary was. She should be the one that is lying broken in this bed. She should be the one trying to piece together her life. There were no words that would properly translate the rage you felt towards a woman you at one point knew, and the person that wanted to kill her. The person that existed in the shadows of your memory, sheltered in the dread of whatever it was that you lived through. Instead of words, a blur of tears muddled your vision before falling freely down your cheeks.

The men spoke in their silent language for a moment before the lieutenant took a seat by your bedside. “This is a lot. I know.” Lieutenant Garza’s face broke from its neutral demeanor to shift to a weary gaze. You hate the look of pity he gives you. “But if there is anything, anything at all, that you recall from that night. No matter how insignificant it may seem. Any stray detail you may remember. It’s ok if nothing comes up now-” you cut him off.

“The new year- you said it was the new year. When it happened, I mean.” You couldn’t remember the holidays.  Who had you spent them with? Why did thinking about the new year make the hairs on the back of your neck rise and make you feel as though your brain would come to a head through your skull and spill out. 

10…9…8…

“Yes, we believe that the perpetrator used the commotion of all the fireworks and parties on the block to cover his attack.”

Right. The fireworks. 7…6…5…

“Thankfully you had been found not too long after midnight after a neighbor happened to see you on the ground from their second floor window following your fall off the balcony.”

The fireworks. The balcony. The fireworks. The balcony.

“The witness had said that she had seen you holding onto something, possibly a hood or a type of mask, but we were not able to find what she saw. Maybe the perp retrieved it before fleeing the scene?”

4…3…2…

Balcony. Fireworks. Mask. Balcony. Fireworks. Mask. Balcony. Fireworks… that smell. Someone on the block had started their fireworks early. It scared me, but at that moment I felt something else. I smelled it first, that overwhelming presence. Cologne, just like the one in the jeep.

”New Years alone and nothing to do...”

1…

“Poor bunny.”

[666herescared]

Peach Treats(ClingPeachesAU)

This is a bit of a random fanfic for LMK that I came up with. Wukong tricks Mk and friends into eating peaches of immortality. ClingPeaches=Clingy Wukong BTW.

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 Everyone was surprised when Monkey King invited them to his place on the mountain. Mk thought he was trying to get closer to his friends, so he (mildly) pressured them into coming, despite their protests. When they arrived, the monkeys didn’t rush to greet them, opting instead to sit in the trees and chatter amongst themselves. The monkey kid glanced at them and saw looks of concern on their faces. Why did they look… almost apologetic? What didn’t Wukong tell them?

  The atmosphere livened up a bit once they actually met with the king. He seemed cheerful, and was wearing casual attire. He looked so much more approachable; a hot pink hoodie with a logo and the words, ‘Feelin’ Peachy’ in place of the armor they usually saw. Pigsy approached immediately and asked why the monkeys were acting off but the king brushed it off as, “They’re like that sometimes’ instead of giving a proper answer.

  Inside of the sage's hut, he had already set everything up for a ‘Monkey King: The animated series’ binge; Bowls of chips were placed on the couch and there were bottles of drinks on the coffee table. Honestly, the oddest thing was when Wukong said he had a batch of peach treats in the oven.

  The day went as planned for the most part. Everyone was enjoying themselves and Monkey King wasn’t even slightly offended by the jabs Mk and his friends made. He seemed to be in such a bright mood, nothing could bring it down. His successor was shocked when he started grooming him, but he relaxed into the comforting touch easily. The day just couldn’t get better.

  Eventually, the treats were done and Wukong brought them out. There were two trays of twelve treats each. Definitely enough for the six people there. They were peach shaped snacks with graham cracker crust and peach pie filling. They definitely looked delicious!

  Mk was the first to take one, but he forgot to let it cool down first, causing him to burn his tongue on the yummy treat. His mentor chuckled and mentioned that, "you gotta let it cool down first" before pulling the younger onto the couch with him and wrapping him with his tail.

  Second was Mei, waiting for about a minute before taking one and blowing on it to cool it down. She was enraptured by the flavor and complimented the king, not noticing how his eyes shined with glee. Or maybe she did notice, but just couldn’t tell why it was there. 

  Third was Sandy, who ate one, hummed with delight, and washed it down with a sip of his tea. The sage was definitely pleased by this, for what reason, well… You probably read the description. 

  Anyways, number four was Pigsy, closely followed by Tang. Even their refined palettes had to admit the deliciousness! Wukong let out a chuckle at Tang’s satisfied smile and Pigsy’s backhanded, “I guess it’s okay..” The king’s grin could not be beat.

  When he went to pick one up though, the one he grabbed was snatched by an uninvited guest. “Sorry, Monkey King. I just had to see what everyone was so happy about.” Macaque stated, taking a bite out of his and being shocked by how good it was. He glanced at Wukong, about to make a snarky comment, when he was stopped by the other’s eyes shining in delight. “What… What flavor are these again?” The shadow asked with suspicion and dread on his face.

  “Peach. Obviously. It’s my favorite fruit!” The sage responded, his smile not dampened when the darker monkey jerked away from him.

  “What?...” Macaque muttered, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on Mk. “Kiddo.. Please tell me you didn’t have any!” He sounded distressed.

  The monkey kid said, “I had one first. What’s wrong?” with concern for the other. 

  The black furred monkey jerked his eyes to all of them; Each one filling his face with more concern until he gripped his head and looked down. “Stupid. Stupid!” He berated himself, hitting his hands against his head. “I should have warned you!”

  Mk tried to get up and approach but the Monkey King’s grip was too strong. “Warned us about what?” He asked, glancing at his mentor. Still smiling. Never even wavered.

  Macaque seemed nearly hesitant, with dread in his eyes, but he worked up the courage to say it. “Never trust Wukong’s peaches.”

  The king laughed, laughed, at the warrior’s dismay. “C’mon, Macaque! Longevity peaches never hurt anyone!” The rest of the room fell still. Mk could feel his throat close up. “After all, I made all of them immortal! They aren’t gonna lose each other! They’ll be fine!” The king held his successor closer as the younger processed the statement. 

  It was true. If those peach treats made them immortal, all of Mk’s friends were immortal too. A lot of dread still lingered despite that though. Maybe it was because he would still watch everyone else die, even if everyone in that room was now safe. Mk might not have had a biological family to speak of, but his friends sure did! 

  He glanced at Mei, panic clear on her face even though she was covering her mouth. What would her family think? What are they gonna do to Wukong? The image of Mei growing up and watching her family die flashed in Mk’s mind as he shifted his gaze to Sandy.

  Sandy, the gentle giant, friend of the forest, and team therapist… looked like he was gonna cry. How would he handle that? He already had so much survivor's remorse from his time on the battlefield, and now he was gonna deal with that sort of thing every time anyone dies in their fights. Immortality is no picnic. Wukong was the one to tell him that, so why did he do this?

  Then there were his parents. Pigsy was holding a crying Tang in his arms with so much fear in his eyes. He knew them. He knew they got attached to people easily. Pigsy, shockingly enough, became friends with a lot of his regulars. Mr. Tang was also friends with half his class. Knowing how much they would mourn- Hey! When did Mk start crying?

  Tears fell from his eyes as he came to the realization that- he was still in Wukong’s arms! He tried to pry the demon monkey's arms off, but he just tightened his grip even more. He glanced up at his face and saw that- that he was still grinning! Like he didn’t know how much pain he was gonna make them go through! Mk started desperately trying to escape his mentor’s hold, but it only got tighter, and tighter, until- “Why are you tryin’ to run, bud? I’m not gonna hurt you or nothing.”

  The sage finally looked around and he scoffed- Fucking scoffed!- at everyone’s faces of betrayal and fear. “I can’t believe you all! I worked my ass off to get those peaches and yet none of you look thankful. Really rude, y’know!” He said, like they were the ones acting off.

  “Wukong, Wukong! What have you done?!” Macaque asked, incredulously. “I know you don’t wanna lose them but- but this is too far! They have families! Friends, outside of each other! And yet, you think they’re the ones who are in the wrong?!” He sounded angry yet terrified at the thought. 

  The stone monkey seemed to consider the statement for a moment before saying, “If they were close with those people, they would talk about them! Honestly, I can get more! I mean- not too many or I’ll raise suspicion, but I doubt they have that many friends.” as though he couldn’t comprehend their emotions. 

  He probably couldn’t, honestly. The rest of that night was a blur for Mk; mainly consisting of tug of war, with him as the tug rope, but no one could overpower the great sage. Even if Macaque came close, he still couldn’t rip the king’s cub from his arms. Mk was too out of it to even realize he had shifted into monkey form, and that's without even starting on fighting back! He only came to realize what had happened after; when the king was holding him close and whispering comforting words, the thought crossed the wrong person’s mind.

  “What have I done?”

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Alright! Please tell me if you liked it; if you didn't. It would really help out. Also, feel free to make whatever you want in this AU! Just make sure to credit me if you do! I'd love to see whatever you all make!

Have fun, and happy scrolling!

[under-the-aspen-tree]

A Moth To You (Chapter 2 - Endings, Beginnings) Aegon II Targaryen x (Bastard Velaryon) Reader

Series Summary: After a year travelling abroad, you have been called home to Kingslanding by your mother, Rhaenyra. Turns out your family has grown in your time apart.

Word Count: 1.9k

The crimson of rooftops looked like flecks of red dirt in peachy sands from where you flew above Kingslanding, circling the city from the confines of the clouds. The journey to Westeros was an easy one, with the ship mooring at Dragonstone so that you had time to bathe and rest before separating from Rhaenys, your cargo safely chasing behind you when you took flight on Cerys. You were eager to fly once again, legs and stomach aching from days on the boat, and try as you might you were eager to see your family once again. Cerys, your young dragon, was delighted at the opportunity to roam the lands of her birth once more and had spent the journey dipping her scaled talons in and out of the seas before soaring up towards the hazy cloud lines.

Cerys was a great beast of five-and-twenty, older than yourself and larger than your brothers by nearly twice fold. Her scales were of a beautiful milky white with flecks of silver that marked her underbelly. She was such a perfect shade of cream that even Cregan Stark had found himself delighted at the sight of her curled up in the snows of Winterfell at the beginning of your tour, remarking on how well she took to the icy terrain. 

Now, her colouring was the perfect illusion as you drifted through the skies, awaiting the moment you would be forced to make an entrance. You knew your family would have some idea of when you would arrive, that they would be patiently standing within the dragon holdings beside The Red Keep, but for some reason, you couldn't face them. It had all seemed so quick. One moment, you were breezing through the days with the sun on your skin and your worries in the breeze, the next clad in thick riding leathers, your hair twisted back in knots and layers with that life almost 500 miles behind you.

Stirring you out of your thoughts, Cerys let out a light snarl, rumbling your saddle as you twisted the reigns to circle the city once more, the beast growing tired. You had departed from Dragonstone before the sun was more than a quarter way through the sky and it was now gone noon. The winds had thankfully assisted your travel, but you were certain you had been in flight for almost nine hours. Your skin was dry and tired, your throat parched, and Cerys must have felt even worse having carried the weight of the journey for all this time. 

"I know girl, I know," You said, stroking your hand against her scales. You looked out once more towards the East, imagining how simple it would be to turn back, before running your dry tongue against your lips and tugging at the reigns. Cerys dipped her head gladly, stretching out her wings as you began your descent. The rooftops merged from flags to mosaics, and then into houses as you soured further and further down in swooping circles. The wind rushed in your ears and, even tired, you let out a laugh at the feeling. Even from here, flying above the city, you could smell the familiarity of the lands. There was a comfort in home, even if you had wished to stay away. Cerys circled twice before flapping her wings against the wind, the holdings beneath you. You could just about make out the white hair of those waiting, the flapping of coats and dresses as Cerys made her descent, before rocking in your saddle as she hit the ground with a gentle roar.  "Okay," You whispered to yourself, heat pouring to your cheeks as you heard the chatter of those waiting for you. "I can do this."

You took your time unbuckling yourself from your saddle before resting your feet on Cerys wings. Your legs ached from hours of sitting and it took a moment to stretch some life into them as you slowly stepped down and back into solid ground. A hand reached out to assist you, and you grasped it before realising who it even belonged to.

"Jacaerys!" You gasped, catching sight of the mop of dark hair resting against the boy's forehead. Well, boy was a sweet word for the man before you. The Jacaerys you had left behind over a year ago was shorter than you by a head and a half, with angular shoulders and an almost elvish face. Your brother had certainly grown in your time apart. He stood like a man now, with the sturdy strength of a swordsman and eyes that had to look down to behold you. He took you into a welcome hug, lifting you off your feet slightly.

"(Y/N), It's been too long," He laughed into your ear as he set you back down, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. "I hope your travels were easy."

It had always been so easy with Jace, perhaps because you were the closest in age. He was born less than a year after yourself, though always seemed determined to fill the role of older brother. Throughout your childhood he had protected you in every way he could, even if sometimes you had to chastise him afterwards for being so imposing. Once back in his arms, you had no idea how you had ever left them.

"They were lovely thank you," It was as though every concern you had was washed away at the sight of your brother, every dreaded thought seemed silly, though the pleasantries were off-putting. "How is everybody?"

"You can ask them yourself," Jace said with a knowing glint in his eyes, gesturing behind you both.

Your mother stood proudly, her hair twisted in elaborate braids away from her face, with one hand on Lucerys' shoulder and the other wrapped around Joffrey. Behind her, with his chin up and his hair longer than you remembered it being, was your great Uncle, Prince Daemon. You practically had to tug Jace to keep up with you as you faced your family.

"Mother!" You cried out, burying your face in her hair and breathing in the smell of nectarines and lotus that you loved. It had been so long since you felt her arms around you, seeing her kind eyes and gentle face. You hadn't realised how much you missed it. Luke and Joff came next, though you had to lean down a little to hug the latter. You were shocked at how much they had changed in your time away, with the only faces remaining the same being your mother and step-fathers. 

Finally, stood back beside Jace, you finally had the chance to speak to them, and everything came rushing out. "How are you all? How is the king? How is the dragon riding coming along? Are you all sword fighting? Why did you want me home?" Your mother had to place a hand on each of your shoulders to prevent the onslaught of eager questions, but her eyes were alight with a smile.

"You will have a chance to ask anything, and I'm sure your brothers are very excited to hear about your adventures themselves, tonight. The King and Queen have hosted a feast to celebrate your return."

You clamped your mouth shut, cheeks going red as a smile broke through on your face. "Yes, mother."

"Jace," She turned her attention to your brother, pushing your shoulder slightly to face him. "Could you lead your sister to her chambers to rest before supper?"

Jacaerys stood proud and offered out a hand to guide you. It was only now that you realised you were in dire need of a bath, leathers drenched in sweat and skin smelling of dragon. You took his hand and smiled farewell to your family before joining him on the path to The Red Keep. 

"We're all well," He informed you as he led you across the grounds, smiling as you beheld the keep. It hadn't been so long since your last visit here, but it was as though you were seeing it for the first time. You had forgotten how high it reached, how far it spanned, and just how many people were there. Back in Pentos, it all seemed a lot quieter. "The King is deteriorating, but not more so than is expected. The Queen is well, but it is our Uncles you must watch out for." 

He gave your side a knowing nudge with his elbow at that and you laughed. You had almost forgotten about your extended family, so caught up in seeing your siblings. The last time you had seen them, they had barely said a word to you, with Aegon looking frustrated with being forced to make an appearance at your departure. Your childhood with them had been a bittersweet one, with your eldest uncle doing his best to completely ignore you, or sometimes pull your hair if given the chance. Aemond was kinder, but the incident at Driftmark changed something within him, and you found yourself lumped into the hatred he bore your brothers. Helaena was sweeter, you had nothing but fond memories with the girl, even if you had little in common. You shook aside the thoughts. Having repressed them all for over a year until now, you could hold them aside for a little longer. 

"How so?" You inquired, giggling. You knew Jace had never gotten along with your Uncles, and they perhaps hated him even more. You had spent many days watching from the sidelines as they played at swords, bashing each other to the ground at every opportunity.

"Well, Aemond HATES me," He started quite dramatically. "And he hates Luke even more so. He won't ever say it directly, but he talks in these weird riddles as though I won't realise what he actually means when he says-"

As Jace complained about training and dinners, your eyes wandered to where a group of people watched your entrance, servants bowing as you came into view. But there, at the front of the gathering, stood two quite noticeable men, though if not for their bright silver hair, you would have scarcely recognised them. When you had last seen your Uncles, they were still on the cusp of youth, yet their differences were even greater than your brothers.

Aemond stood prouder than you remembered, with a sheet of icy hair that fell like water down his shoulders. His eyepatch was stark against his pale skin and his lips were twitched upwards in something close to a smirk. He watched you like you were beneath him, and there was something almost cat-like in his regards. Poised, careful, waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

Beside him was Aegon, the elder of the two, yet slightly shorter still. Where you remembered a skinny boy with unkempt hair and a youthful face, the man that now regarded you was filled out. Cold eyes, wavy hair cut to his chin and pushed behind his ears and an arrogance that had grown remarkably. If Aemond looked at you like you were a mouse, then Aegon watched with the primal intrigue of a wolf stalking prey. They were your family, you had known them since childhood, and yet the glint in Aegons eyes sent chills that ran down your spine and remained there until long after you left them behind. Their purple eyes followed you all the way across the gardens before Aegon turned his head to whisper something into his brother's ear. Even you could hear the cold laugh that rang out clear across the grounds at whatever he had said.