#still can't write certain accents

[kyot092]

Monty Ranting about Himself (?)

Just another random thought on Monty, but I ended up imagining Monty being disgusted at some versions of himself.

And then I made this, and he’s ranting about the greedy versions of himself (possibly from another universe, who knows?..)

(not me doing this while doing fronnie week day 2 and 3. 2 is still delayed)

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf monty #fnaf bonnie #fnaf freddy #fnaf glamrock bonnie #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf montgomery gator #montgomery gator #glamrock bonnie #glamrock freddy #still can't write certain accents

[creamecafe]

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒

Summary: You can't help but make fun of Hobie for the way he says things differently from London.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

Warnings: none just major fluff

a/n: I high-key low-key hate this but had to write something for my little rebellion Hobie

"Wait wait so you call chips crisps?"

"Yes" Hobie sighed, rolling his eyes.

This wasn't the first time you asked about certain words in England than how it works where you live. It was fascinating how Hobie and you called things and lived differently.

"It makes sense that you call chips crisps because their crispy, but why do you call french fries chips? Their not crispy at all. They got soggy because their soft."

"I don't bloody know, I just have been used to calling that my entire life."

"Well I was raised calling them french fries and I'm gonna stick to that."

"Do you even know they were not made in France, they were made in Belgium? The dominant language of southern Belgium is French, and that's where they got the name from."

"What do you say for popsicle in England?" Holding your laughter and excitement

"Ice lolly."

"And to ask that you would like a popsicle?"

"Could I please get a ice lolly?"

You started laughing after he had said that. His accent was so funny to you

"You sound like a young boy in a school uniform from the 1930s."

"And you sound like a real bully making fun of how I say things." Hobie pretends to be upset but can't help but smile because of how cute you look when you laugh.

"But I know I can't be mad at you love." He rises a bit from the couch and kisses you on the cheek.

You turn your head and kissed him more on the lips. Hobie puts his hand up and cups your face. He then guides you down onto the couch lying you down on your back. Now the kiss was getting more heated.

But you guys had to stop to catch your breath. After Hobie pulled away from the kiss, he just smiled at you.

"Would you like to get McDonald's?"

"Yes I would like to get some chips." You smile stupidly thinking you were funny. You were it's just Hobie didn't appreciate it.

"Haha, real funny."

You chuckle at this and just spend the rest of the night eating McDonald's together still making fun of how he says things from back home London.

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 | 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

#creamecafe #marvel #mcu #spiderman astv #astv #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown fanfiction #gender neutral insert #gender neutral imagine #gender netural #gender neutral reader #astv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie headcanons #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown my beloved #hobie spiderverse #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie my beloved #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk #spiderpunk fanfic

[its-ares]

— Headcanons

Request by @val246s | Hello!! I’ve been following you for a while and reading your stories, and so I was nervous to request but would you mind writing headcanons about the cod men with a shy reader?

Shy Male reader

Simon „Ghost“ Riley

- Simon trusts you, which is unusual for him, but there's just something about you that makes him trust you.

- Late in the evening when you sat outside and looked at the stars, he sat down with you and at some point Simon started talking about his childhood

- Simon knows that you are shy and find it difficult to socialize. Sometimes you can't even look him in the eye

- He always tries to involve you. He trusts your opinion and you manage to get rid of your shyness every now and then

- When Simon saw first hand how the other recruits treated you, he stared at them with his Death Stare and with his Manchester accent condemned them to run 100 laps and then they had to come to his office. Safe to day that they didn't look at you again after that

John „Soap“ Mactavish

- Total sweetheart

- Soap has become a really good friend over the time. He sometimes likes to make fun of you because you're so shy, but you know that he doesn't mean it in a bad way

- He always tries to help you and you know that you can always come to him, no matter when

- Once you got yourself a coffee and something sweet from a coffee shop, but the barista gave you the wrong order. When you tried to say what was wrong you couldn't get any sound out and your face got really red. Soap helped you and since then you both sometimes do exercises on how to overcome your shyness in certain situations

- someone makes fun of you? Soap cussed them out in his thick accent and everyone is just silent

Kyle „Gaz“ Garrick

- Also a total sweetheart

- Despite your shyness, you hit it off with Gaz right away. You feel safe with him and he always offers you a shoulder to lean on

- It took you a while to open up to him, but then you both became inseparable.

- Inside jokes

Captain John Price

- John knows a lot of people. The ones who think they are something better, arrogant, selfish ones and so on and. But John has never met anyone like you in his time as captain

- You were so shy but still strong. Although you sometimes had problems asserting yourself, John was always there to help you

- Your number 1 supporter

- Anyone who makes fun of you because you're shy, John makes them run laps until they can't anymore

- You liked the quiet moments with John best. When you two sit outside together, John smokes his cigar and you just appreciate each other's presence

#cod x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon riley x male reader #ghost x male reader #john soap mctavish x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #john price x male reader

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Callouses on his gentle hands was absolutely adorable! It kept making me thing of a continuation of the sorts where some years pass and the reader actually enlisted in the military earning the code name Bird too without Price having any knowledge. Only to show up when he's a captain maybe even to be part of 141 or something important.

Idk if this is a possible request as I don't want to bother you but it would be amazing if there was some well timed banter and just generally happy.

Again your writing is so good it leaves me speechless I love it so much! 👁️〰️👁️

Calluses and Milky Scars

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: It's been years since you've seen or heard from John and yet you still can't get him out of your head. But can a chance meeting rekindle old emotions? (18+)

Word Count: 16.1k

Warnings: Angst, typical violence & gore, talks of human trafficking, vulgar language, eventual fluff, banter, smut, honestly I think I wrote switch!Price without even realizing it, p in v sex, fingering, teasing, breeding kink, etc.

A/N: Imma be honest I hate the first part of this duology - it was one of my earlier works - so I made this as standalone as possible. So if you don't wanna read the first part (please don't) you can still understand this one just fine by itself. (this is also an excuse for more smut practice). Anyway, enjoy! Part 1

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

They only saw the glint of a blade, the metal reflecting the light of a mist-filled night back into the whites of their eyes. You could see the result of your form in their terror-stricken visages as, one after one, they succumbed to the ministrations of your unyielding determination. 

You had forgotten when the act of taking a life had become so easy for you. It was as natural as breathing, now. Elementary. Your fingers could pull a trigger just as fast as they would raise for a handshake or a wave. There was little need to be shy about it – your days as a victim were far behind you, and ‘Bird’ was nothing more than a callsign uttered under hushed breaths. Said behind back alleys by Human Traffickers with fear-slick eyes. 

It was no longer uttered in a deep British accent, the word making your skin tingle and cheeks heat. No matter how much you longed for it to be.

You were a Captain in the military now. Working hand-in-hand with the CIA under the direction of a certain Kate Laswell. You even commanded your own Squad that specializes in getting others out of the very situation you had been in years ago with no mercy or hesitation. 

Revenge, you decided, was most likely why this was easy for you. 

You enjoyed it. 

“Perimeter clear, Captain,” Wren speaks into your earpiece as you step over the bodies at your feet, boots splashing through puddles of blood so starkly contrasting the grass it makes you smirk.

“Move up.” A balaclava covers your face, and sweat dribbles down your brow before you blink it out of your eye. 

Around your chest, the M4A1 sits with its familiar weight, and you wipe the life-fluid from your crude combat knife before sheathing it at your thigh. You had taken out three stragglers at the South End of the current Targets territory, your blood singing sweetly in your veins at the prospect of finally crossing another name off your list. 

“Eagle,” Your voice bounces off trees and low shrubs, and you continue forward as your fingers press the button on the old-issue radio. There were better versions nowadays, and you got teased for still using the ancient one you have currently strapped to your chest, but it was sentimental to you. An old friend had given it to you for safekeeping a long time ago…How many years now was it since you had seen or heard from John Price? Ten? Fifteen? Who could really tell, anyhow? Time moved quickly, and you ran through it even quicker. 

Your sharp eyes flick out over the view as you exit the brush, standing on the top of a large ridge – a series of warehouses lit up with large spotlights below your perch makes you frown. 

“Let’s get this started then, shall we?” You mutter, shifting your feet and rolling your shoulders. “Blackout in 3.” 

“Roger that, Ma’am.” 

You watch the guards walking like obsidian ants below, your predatory gaze missing nothing – you spot the mannerisms fairly quickly; who limps, who favors their left over their right. Who’s sleeping on the job. A first victim was almost immediately chosen as you tilt your head and feel the chilled breeze on your visible skin. Your Unit knows the procedures you’ve ingrained into them and they’re watching just as closely and predatory as you are. 

All four, including you, are stationed in a circle around the area, with Eagle, the man with the sniper rifle, taking point far off into the trees on a higher portion of the topography. Three seconds of prep time come and go quickly. And so do the lights.

A series of muffled pops and a shattering of glass break the night into chaos, and then the illumination goes out entirely. The area is plunged into an inky darkness of your own command – you revel in it. And then the screams begin. 

“Take ‘em.” You mutter through the open channel, and your feet then propel you forward, dodging trees and jumping downed branches as you skid down the slope. Your heart beats with adrenaline, the hunt making your nerves twitch. 

In your grip, you ready your weapon, flicking off the safety as shots begin to ring out over the land. Eagle was taking off the ones he could, but if you had to guess, Shrike was already in the fray, letting her face get bloody from the close quarters she favored. You only hoped the woman wouldn’t go overboard this time. Thrush was usually the one to help keep her head on, but the man was across the territory with his own hostiles to wipe the board of. 

You fire at the first shadow with a light finger, watching it drop and pivoting to pull the trigger at two more before they knew what was happening – too panicked by the sudden assault seemingly out of nowhere.

“Shrike,” Your voice wafts over the buzzing line, “mind yourself. I don’t need you put on Suspended Leave again.”

“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” Thrush’s light voice meets your ears as you take cover behind a vehicle directly in front of one of the warehouses, “I’m making my way to her now.”

“Ah, Fuck off, Thrush!” Shrike growls, and there’s a distinct sound of someone’s gurgling last breath in the background. It makes you let out a huff of demented laughter. “I know the limits!” 

“I don’t think she knows the limits, Ma’am,” Eagle grunts over the call, and a shot sizzles past your head and takes out a charging man that was making his way to your hunched and hidden form. “I really don’t.”

Rushing forward out of your cover, you chuckle breathlessly as Wren’s dignified voice pipes in.

“I’m making my way to the main building and getting set to download the data. Target’s nowhere to be seen, Captain.” Your lips thin under the fabric and you grunt, feeling a bullet graze your bicep. Ducking in an instant, you set your feet and fire, running past before the sound of the body slamming to the ground behind you can reach your ears. A burning heat enters your arm, but you barely acknowledge it. 

“Eagle, cover her until I get there.”

“Affirm.” 

“Shrike, Thrush, report. How’s the other warehouse lookin'?” Your body skids across the ground, and your hand connects with the warehouse you needed to clear before making your way to Wren and the Mainframe. 

Half of the Op was data retrieval, and the other was taking out a human trafficker only named in his file as Buck – bastard’s been running for a long time, and you needed to leave him a bloody mess before he kept his ‘business’ going. Laswell only sent in your Squad because she knew you could get it done with an efficiency no one else could. Nearly a perfect success rate got the attention of people worldwide; your waiting list was long of the places the CIA wanted to send you and your team. 

But you didn’t care, as long as your own list was getting checked off they could fly your ass to Antarctica for all it mattered. 

“Our warehouse is cleared out. Must not have expected us…they were running around with their heads chopped off.”

Shrike snickers. “Just like chickens.”

“Good. Join up with Wren and make sure she can get the download completed. Copy?” You grasp the large metal handle and growl, locking your arms and pushing with all of your strength. The weight makes your thighs shake, but you only open it enough for you to slip inside, gun at the ready as breaths puff from your mouth.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Boots shuffle over the concrete floor, and your ears twitch in the quiet darkness at the crunch of stray gravel underfoot. Your finger shifts slowly to the trigger, glaring into the nothingness. 

It was silent. 

You heard it then, like a spike to the heart – the panicked breathing; the sounds of shaking lungs and grasping hands. Sounds all so familiar it made you pause, mind for an instant blanking at the implications. 

There were people here. Drowning in fear.

You could see them in the corners, scores of bodies piled on top of one another to find some semblance of comfort. Their eyes wink in the moonlight of a single window in the roof, and the stench nearly makes you want to gag. Blinking, you lower your gun, feet shifting to stand straight like a statue; heart racing. These people weren’t supposed to be here, and already vicious comparisons to your own rescue by a certain man a long time ago invade your mind. Calluses seem to burn your hands under your gloves, and a gentle imaginary prod at an injury on your forehead makes the milky scar ache. 

He readies the wipe in one of his hands, the other coming up to your jaw. When you tense he freezes, but as soon as the hesitance leaks away from you like a wave, the slow motion returns to his limbs; his fingers come to grab at your chin, gently holding your head in place. When you place more weight into his hold and release a deep-chested sigh of content he quirks a dark eyebrow.

“This might sting, Doll,” John whispers.

“That’s alright,” You mutter back, staring into his beautiful eyes as the wipe comes into view in the side of your vision. “Not your fault.”

He only releases a puff of air from his lips before adding the smallest amount of pressure to your forehead, running the wipe over the red and swollen flesh. 

Taking a deep breath one of your hands goes to your radio stiffly. Eagle needed to know about this so he could send a message to Laswell – get an immediate Medical Evac for these people. 

In your hyper-focussed state, memories you wished would stay away rear their head; infect your intuition and common sense. You missed the click of the safety until the barrel of the pistol was level with the back of your head. Freezing, your fingers tense over the device, your body going rigid and muscles tight as the people in the corners gasp and cry out into the night. 

A panting man stands behind you and you feel his hands shaking as the barrel digs into the balaclava’s fabric.

Well, that’s unexpected.  

“Show me your hands,” He breathes heavily, and you feel his puff of air echo out over the open space. Tinged with fear. Dripping with adrenaline. 

Your lips pull back into a steady, hidden, smirk, head tilting as your hands slowly drift from your radio and let your weapon hang from its strap around your chest; feeling it bounce off the various packs and supplies you carry with pride. They splay beside your head, fingers lazily loose and leather gloves squealing into the night. 

Selene herself holds her silver breath, the winds sucked down into Hades as Cerberus breaks sinner’s bones with his savage jaws and blood-slick teeth. It was silent. 

Born and bred to violence, there truly wasn’t a better place for you to be than in the CIA. This was Hell, but you could play that black-clad ruler’s game just the same. You’d been dodging him for years.

“T-toss your gun to the floor.”

“You know that won’t matter.” You look behind you, side-eyeing that shaking would-be threat. Phobos lives in his very being. Coward. Pathetic. Red-hot anger lights your nerves, iris narrowing to black slits. This thing – he was little more than an entitled boy in a man’s body. Using others for his gain just like others had used you. This was your Target. 

This was Buck. 

“So this is the one who made an empire on the suffering of innocents.” You mumble, unafraid and unbothered with a scoff. “I really expected more than a man who plays with his food.”

Yes, the adrenaline was running in your veins; you were human. It was natural. But the way the wailing birds rampaged in your chest wasn’t – you should be afraid, not angry. Not enraged to the point you were shaking; fingers twitching for your knife. For spilled blood to coat the earth.

Phobos was this man’s ruler, but that Fear God’s father was Ares. And Ares was yours.

“I…I said drop your fucking weapon you bitch–!”

Your opposite hand knocks Buck’s wrist to the side and your body twists. In a single fraction of a second between the loud misfire that hits the floor and the ringing in your ears, the knife at your thigh finds purchase in his pliable neck. Crimson sprays over your eyes; staining the balaclava as your body falls to the ground as you jam the blade deeper – all the way to the crossguard. 

Buck grumbles wetly from under you, hands coming to weakly grasp at your arms and attempt to pry your unyielding body from him. His grip is as strong as a child’s, and as blood spurts from his mouth and entry wound, you slap your free hand over his face and twist the knife. Strangling the hilt in your grasp, you viciously jerk your limb, sending the edge sliding over his neck; cutting tendons and arteries. Creating a red-lipped smile from ear to ear that explodes with gore. 

Buck was already dead before the puddle over the ground grew an inch in diameter. 

Ripping your weapon out, you shove your boot into his chest and push off, stumbling to your feet as you stare down wide-eyed. Your digits shake, but the flickering of your gaze goes from the dead eyes to the open mouth of the corpse. Flicking your wrist, you splatter more blood on the floor to rid some of it from your blade before sheathing it. 

Gripping your radio, you speak clearly into the line. 

“Eagle this is the Captain – get in contact with Laswell immediately. Civvies in the far South warehouse. Ask for Medical Evac.” 

Say to bring only women, you want to growl but refrain. That was impossible to manage.

You stare at them now, the innocents, and see your own path reflected in the many colors and the feral glints in their irises. In the way their bodies huddle like cats with their backs flared. If life had been different, would you still be in a situation like this – waiting for your own John Price to break you out? It was a difficult question. Far more challenging to answer than why the body behind you was staining the concrete with blood and tears. 

…What would have happened if he had never kneeled down before you that day? Offered you his hand stained with calluses and gunpowder residue? 

You blink at the thin bodies, gaze flowing to each and every one in turn. With a slow motion you begin forward, hands at your sides and visible; you draw the memory to you. The one you think of often.

You had stayed there in fear, curled up in the corner, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Until John.

“Ma’am,” He had said, kneeling on one leg while his hands clutched his M16 to his chest, the muzzle still smoking, “I’m Lieutenant John Price in Command of Unit Bravo. You’re safe now.” 

Unit Bravo? Safe? You had wondered, looking up at the man with confusion. How can I be safe?

Nonetheless, when he offered you a hand, you had taken it, looking in awe at how gently he gripped your limb in his own; John’s limb completely swallowed yours and yet held you like delicate glass. 

You stopped before a woman far too young to be in a situation like this and kneeled. She watched you with a shaking body, the others curling away in fear. They didn’t know you, and so they feared you. Taking a breath, your hand raises, and the woman’s eyes are laser-focused on your form. 

I should make myself smaller, you think. And so you do. 

The fabric is sweat-heavy; laden with dirt and other substances, but you grasp it without hesitation and peel it off of you. It sits in your hand with the weight of the past in the thick polyester threads. Swallowing down saliva at the breeze that hits your face, you watch the lady blink at you, her gaze filled with confusion. 

An easy smile comes to your face; if they hadn't just seen you murder a man, they would not believe you to be the same person. Yours was not the face of a killer – of someone who twists the knife deep and revels in death. It was soft beside the scar above your eyebrow, easy to look at. Innocent.

A simple Bird, no. A vulture perhaps suited you better, if they were to get into specifics.

You clear your throat and they all flinch. 

“Ma’am,” Your voice carries. Again, not the voice of a monster. But even Ares marries a beauty. Could you not be a spawn of them? Beautiful and utterly bloodied by the rules of war? Oh, yes, that’s what you were, you had to be. Nothing else would make any sense. But they gravitate to you nonetheless – war and love often go hand in hand. Especially when one killed the ruler of their torment. “I’m the Captain of Raptor Squad. You can call me Bird, if you want. It’s alright. We’re gonna get you out of here and get you some help, okay? You’re safe now.”

The woman can’t help but nod sheepishly. 

Who says no to an offspring of Gods themselves?

—

The helicopter ride back was silent, with everyone tired and covered in more blood, dirt, and sweat than they can recall. Buck’s body was stuffed into a black bag and sitting in the walkway at your feet – you needed it for positive identification back on Base. You had shuffled back into the balaclava, taking comfort in the security and anonymity it lent. Below, your eyes watch the word whizz past, one foot limply hanging off the side thousands of feet above the ground; you swish it back and forth like a child and allow yourself to think. 

You had joined the military only a few years after John had rescued you – much against the wishes of your therapist, but seeing as you were of sound mind, it wasn’t that difficult to enlist. The brown-haired Brit had sent you letters for the first three months after you had left the Base you had been recovering at and then, inexplicably, they had stopped. No letters, no contact. The radio – along with you – was too far away to get a signal; that was how it ended.

Not with a kiss or a soldier’s goodbye, just nothing. Silence.

But you never held it against him. Perhaps, you reasoned and partially believed, he was already dead. At the end of the day, he had been a great motivator for you, and over the years your fists and skills had propelled you to top ranks. Laswell had been in contact soon after you had been promoted to Lieutenant and Raptor Squad had been formed when you had chosen the most violent and perfect bastards to join it. 

From there it was win after win and the CIA soon counted this team as one of the most lethal in its roster. You’ve been all over the world. 

More than I could imagine I would become in a concrete corner and locked in a cage. 

Your eyes watched the expanse of forest outside, but there was still something missing. Why had John just…stopped? It was the one question you could never answer. 

Did I really not matter to him at all? Around your vest, your fingers twitch as the helicopter bounces on airwaves. Blue eyes still haunted you – the ones that held silver starlight hostage. How they used to soften with care when they looked down at you. John shouldn’t have mattered this much to you. 

Why can’t I just let go of him?

You bite at your hidden lip with sharp teeth, peeling back the skin as Wren shifts in her seat beside you. She speaks into the comms to avoid yelling over the drowning sound of helo blades and you lock your eyes on her form.

“You might want to look at the info I retrieved from the Target’s mainframe, Captain. Didn’t Laswell mention she had a separate Task Force going after someone named Casilda Kalpana? She’s mentioned in this file.” Wren hands you her tablet, and you hold it in one of your hands as your hard eyes slim down the screen, taking in compiled sources. 

Casilida Kalpana was on your list of Targets to take care of, but Laswell had given the job to another Task Force – designated TF-141 – for the small difference that this woman had ties to multiple terror organizations. Raptor Squad was no stranger to that, but Kate had also stated that the Captain of that group had been incredibly instant on taking it himself. 

Your head tilts in memory.

“Kate, I’m not understanding why you think we can’t handle it.” You huff, shaking your head with an exasperated expression. “It’s no different than anything we’ve done before.”

“I have no problem with you participating, but the Captain pulled in a favor. Said he ‘felt obligated’ or something like that.” You pull a face, and Laswell glares at you from behind her desk. “Bird, I really don’t have the time to argue today – I’m stuck with stacks of papers because Keller decided to get himself lost again.” 

“I’m not trying to argue, Kate.” Holding up your hands you chuckle and roll your eyes. “The only thing that matters is that the Target ends up six feet under at the end of the day. You know what it means to me.”

The Agent looks up from her papers and pauses for a moment, a pen placed between her digits, and her eyes soften around the gray edges. 

“I can personally assure you, Captain, that this Task Force will see it done…Now hurry up and get ready for your own mission – I hear South America is warmer than usual this time of year. Pack a cold drink.”

The words in the file make your stomach churn; leading to your eyes widening. You flip the tablet back to Wren and radio Eagle who’s blankly watching Shrike and Thrush play rock-paper-scissors across from you.

“Eagle,” the man’s head snaps to you and he blinks, “Patch through to Laswell. Tell her to gather Task Force 141 in the meeting room on Base and wait for me. Under no circumstances should they be allowed to leave on the Op for the HVT Casilda Kalpana. We’ve got vital intel.” 

Eagle nods and gets to work on a secure call to Kate, as you turn to Wren, clapping her on the shoulder and leaning close to speak into her ear over the noise. 

“Good work, Sergeant. Get all that transferred onto a flash drive for me, yeah?”

“On it, Ma’am.”

This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it? You sigh deeply, tilting your head back as the sun starts to slowly rise over the land, bathing it in an orange glow that spreads out like fire. The large Cargo plane following behind the Helicopter would carry the innocent victims of Buck back to Base, and you fight the urge to get in contact with the pilot's headset to ask how it was going for them. It was hard to not get attached – especially when you knew what was probably going through their fear-stricken brains. 

Left wondering in silence, your fingers pick at themselves over your gloves, peeling at frayed threads and durable fabric. As the minutes stretch into hours, you lift a hand and run a digit over your scar, caressing the skin as the forest pulls back and buildings emerge. Turbulence overtakes the helicopter, and your hand grabs the net on the side of the wall to steady yourself as the descent begins. 

Settling your nerves, you wait until the ‘all good’ from the cockpit before you hop out, signaling with your finger for your Squad to follow close behind. Someone else would come and grab the body bag – it wasn’t your problem anymore. Your feet pound the Tarmac, and you can’t help the look you send up to the sky, watching the cargo plane on the horizon as it comes closer. Frowning under your covering, you re-focus. 

I need to stop thinking about it – I always get like this with civvies. 

It was hard not to. You only wanted to bring them the same comfort that John had brought you. 

God, stop fucking thinking about him! His phantom haunts your every step like the two of you were Orpheus and Eurydice – only one of you wasn’t dead in the first place. One had left; abandoned you to the wolves. You had said you held no bad feelings towards the Brit but was that true? And if he was really dead, would you ever even know it?

Your feet carry you forward as the helicopter blades slice the air, making your clothes ruffle and shake under the combat vest and around your ankles. 

The last time you had contact with the brown-haired man, you had been reading his letter in a free-of-charge home given to you until you could get on your feet and secure a job. John had been sent back to the UK on another assignment, leaving you a nervous wreck surrounded by people you didn’t know the intentions of. You had been excited to go to the mailbox at the time – even if being outside still made you nervous. Everything was just so big to you back then. When your fingers had opened the small metal box and found the white letter with the elegant script on top, you felt a smile rip open your face. 

But the contents had been less than they usually were. Stiffer; formal in a way you had yet to associate with the man. He had always been nice to you. But maybe he had grown past that – you feared that thought.  

“This’ll be my last letter for a while, Bird. I’m going Black. Make sure to remember to go outside and drink water for me, yeah?” 

-Price

There had been the start of another sentence before it had been scribbled out and then had been it. No updates; no return address this time so you could write him back. And then you had bever received another letter until you had gotten fed up with your life going nowhere and enlisted. John Price had disappeared, and whether he was dead or halfway across the world you knew not. 

He had been the only man you had trusted until Eagle and Thrush had become a part of your group. Still, even now, the opposite sex made you hesitant – you didn’t like being alone with a man you didn’t know. Your line of work didn’t help that notion, either. 

“Bird,” Shrike’s voice brings you back, and your eyes slide to your side to look at the smaller woman. You hum in question. “What was in the file Wren downloaded? And who’s Task Force 141?”

“All in due time,” You mutter back, your hand opening the front door of the main building. No one was bothering to remove their gear or clean themselves – they all understood from the way you were walking faster that this was important. “And as for TF-141, I have no idea. Never met ‘em.” 

Wren coughs, and Shike looks over as Thrush and Eagle listen silently, the former handing a cigarette over to the other.

“One-Four-One is a Multinational Special Operations Unit comprised of operatives from all over the globe. Much like what we do, but on an infinitely larger scale. I believe Laswell asked our Captain to join it a year ago…” Wren trials, not bothering to look up from her tablet where she still reads through files and other intel from the mission.

Thrush’s eyes widened. 

“Holy shit, really? And you passed it up?” 

“Obviously,” You snort, itching at your bicep where the bullet graze still sits in dried blood and dirt. You repress an annoyed hiss of pain. “Why do you think I’m still stuck here with you lot?” 

“Awe,” Shrike coos, scrunching her nose, “She loves us.” 

“Loves to hate us,” Eagle whispers. You send a half-serious glare as Wren chortles to herself. 

“I can always ask Kate for the offer again.” A loud uproar makes people in the hallway turn and stare, and you laugh under your face-covering, chest light. 

You all arrive at the meeting room door and you don’t bother knocking, shoving your way inside with Shrike still giggling behind you. There’s the presence of five others in the room, and one stands at the head of a large table, a blank projector behind her in dim lighting. You don’t bother looking at anyone else – still keeping that habit of being nervous around new people. 

Laswell sighs as she looks you over, crossing her arms over her blouse. 

“We're all here, Captain. What was so urgent that you had to show us?” You slip past her and head to the computer atop a wooden stand, hearing whispers and muttered comments as your groups disperse around the room. Heavy stares that peel back skin like batter nearly make you sweat. They were boring into you, making your heart race. 

They’re waiting for us, you remind yourself. 

“Wren.” You call steadily and a second later you’re catching a well-aimed flash drive without looking and plugging it into the computer. 

Before touching anything else, your hands reach up and grasp the balaclava, tearing it off your head in one quick motion and hooking it onto your belt. It was rare for you to wear it on Base.

A sharp inhalation of breath makes your fingers over the keys pause, but you only blink and return to typing – pulling up file after file. The air in the room was already tense, but whatever had just happened was setting off alarm bells. 

Who are these people? What just happened?

Nonetheless, you get to work and turn to Laswell with the intel on screen.

“You’re going after a useless player. Casilda Kalpana is only a pawn in a much larger scheme.” Kate’s eyes snap from one digitized document to another as you continue, staring at her and no one else with a blank expression. “If you had sent your Task Force, they would have died. They already knew you were coming.”

“Well,” a distinctly Scottish accent makes your fingers twitch, but still you don't look as a comment is said into the air, “I’d have to disagree with that, now, Hen.” 

Blood and sweat stain your skin, and you’re covered in more of it down your gear. Your gloves are stiff with dried crimson and even the small amount of interaction you had on the computer left stains over the keys. But you still find the energy to roll your eyes. 

“Can you fight off upwards of one hundred hostiles while trying to sneak through a city so inhabited that it's practically a human ant hill? No offense, but if you answer that with ‘yes’ you may need a psych eval done.” 

There’s a pause before a small masculine snort echoes out. 

“Shut your gob, Garrick.”

“Laswell,” you remain on topic and the woman looks at you with inquisitive eyes, “The only way forward with this is cutting the head off the snake. I say we go one above Kalpana and take out the ring leader.”

“Abel?” Kate’s eyebrows raise, “Bird we’ve been looking for him for years – I don’t know what you expect us to do with noth–”

Your finger hits a key, and the next document pops up. 

“You can thank Wren for compiling the sources. Lots of emails to go through on the helicopter ride. Some not as fascinating as finding coordinates for a Target.” 

“You can say that again,” said woman huffs from the back of the room, “you know how many kinky photos these people send to one another. Shit’s disgusting.” 

The Scot speaks up again, “really? On a scale of how bad it was – one to ten, Bonnie.”

“Fifteen. I need my eyes bleached.” 

There is a gaze that doesn’t leave you; it hadn't since you had walked through the door. It is hard and unrelenting. It does not falter or blink away. 

It makes you nervous. 

Sucking down a deep breath you try to focus on what everyone is saying, but it becomes more difficult with every second. Your hand reaches up to your head, scratching at your scar as the presence follows your actions. 

Who is this? You wonder, but clench your jaw and listen to Laswell speak.

“--reliable is this source?”

Shrike answers from near the door, chuckling, “very, Ma’am. Rarely do these people sugarcoat things. Small brains, you understand?”

“...At the very least I need more than a location and a vague date. Bird,” your head turns slowly away from the floor, “can you give me a week?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“A week?” You frown, eyes narrowing at the blonde, “He could be off in the wind by then. Do you have any idea how much this guy runs – I’ve been tracking him down ever since I joined, Kate. This is the most I’ve gotten in that entire time.” Splaying out one of your hands for emphasis, everyone hangs off your words. “He’s the source of all of it. When you cut a snake up, the head can still bite, sure, but at least you know where not to step. Kill Abel now, and all of them are left bloody in the dirt. Ready to be picked off.” 

Before the stoic agent can say anything, the radio on your chest sizzles to life and you forget about the hot eyes and the thick air. 

The people from the warehouse. 

Hand snapping up, you turn your head down into it, facing forward as your eyes stiffen. 

“Cargo plane is clear for landing, Ma'am. Just thought I’d let the Squad know.” 

“Thank you, Cadet. I’ll be there momentarily to help out…” You blink, “Try to make sure only female medics work on them but make do if you have to.” 

“Copy that. I’ll spread the word.”

“Rog.” You don’t bother to take the USB from the computer before you turn away – they’ll all go over it while you see to the Civvies. 

“How many this time?” Kate asks seriously as you slip past, her body pivoting to orient herself as you pass.

“Warehouse full.” You grunt, itching at your bicep and shuffling to the exit. “Less than last time.” The agent knew better than to try and stop you. 

“That’s an old radio you’ve got.” The British accent makes you falter for a second; it was deep, aged like a fine wine that coated the vowels with clipped authority. Familiar for some reason, but you took no notice of it. “Must be one helluva long story, eh?” 

“Very long,” You say as your nimble hand connects with the door, “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to tell it–”

Your body freezes as you send a quick glance to the voice’s owner; stance suddenly locked tighter than a bank vault as your optics find familiar blue eyes. 

…John? There was suddenly a violent silence in your head, a sheet of white paper held in front of your brain to block it from firing. 

He looked older, but then again, it had been years. Many years. But the build of his face hadn’t changed so much to a point you’d be unable to recognize those blue eyes. Oh, that blue. Like deep water and sea foam on a cold shore. Was it possible to know someone only by their eyes? You had to argue that, yes, you could. Because the man sitting down at the table, flanked by three others that all watch the interaction with confused eyes, is not the Lieutenant you remember.

The beard was new – shiny brunette like his hair under his bucket-hat-covered head – along with the stature. Before, Price had been large, sure, but now he was built like a bear. Your tense eyes slip over the tight compression shirt covering his arms, the bulk of his thighs as he shifts in his chair to stand up firmly. John clears his throat, and your face heats under the flesh, but upon the doorknob, your fingers strangle the metal. He was taller. 

In your chest, the aggressive pounding of your heart rivals a cheetah.

What the fuck is he doing here? You can’t help but glare when the man frowns, his eyelids half-down in a studying look as his eyebrows push in. Like he was just as surprised as you were. Hesitant. But I’m not the one who disappeared. I’m not the one who made the other think they died.

When your face shifts to anger, John freezes, his hands coming up to cross and grip the collar of his beige combat vest looking about as awkward as he can. When you huff out a breath through your nose, his feet shuffle shoulder length apart. Ever the soldier – waiting for a lip-lashing. You watch the wrinkles on his forehead with growing hatred. 

“Bird, I…”

Breathe.

“Well, this just keeps getting fucking better and better.” Without another glance, you wrench the door open and shoulder though, tossing it back with a decent enough force to make the wall rattle as you disappear down the hall. 

But he won’t leave your thoughts. John Price. Alive. Here. 

What kind of game was this? 

Your hands are shaking at your sides when the door, already far down the hallway, opens quickly. But the feet are not heavy. Wren slides up next to you, her feet pumping. She doesn’t say anything, just walks next to you as your eyes shutter closed and you take a deep breath. 

“You up for helping out in the med ward?” You force yourself to say, hoping to distract yourself as your face once more moves back to a picture of innocent calm. 

How can he be here? Fuck…h-how? John was part of the 141 for this entire time? Did he know I was here? He couldn't have, no. But what if he did…

Why didn’t he say anything?

“I’m certainly more inclined to lead my abilities to the nurses, Captain. You’ll find no resistance from me.” You liked that about Wren. She never pried about things she knew you didn’t want to talk about. 

“Good. They’ll need them.”

—

“John!” You laugh, hands coming up to your head where the Lieutenant had placed his beanie, the chill outside had made your nose hurt and your breath puff out in clouds. 

Standing just outside the main exit of the medical ward, you grab the fabric as your face turns up to the tall man at your side. He had just shown up from a meeting, and the door closed behind his back as he locked his arms on his vest collar and set his feet shoulder length apart. 

“Well now, what’re you doin’ out here?” It was rare for you to be out of the building – open places still scared you. “You alright?” 

But you needed to think. 

Stiffly smiling, you try to hide your running thoughts from the man who narrows his deep blues at you. He shifts closer, and you can feel his heat melt into you, making your shivering slow for a moment. He made all of it better.

John huffs.

“You’re about as easy to read as anyone, Bird. Go on, then.” 

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” You play with your fingers, skin pulling tight. “I’m just overthinking everything.”

“You’re nervous.” He states, glancing ahead with a tilted head and a raised brow at no one. 

Under your feet, the snow shrieks as you shuffle, looking to the ground and sighing deeply. There was no point in hiding anything from him and his damn hawk eyes. 

“It’s just…I’ve missed so much, y’know?” Your teeth bite your lips as you feel his firm eyes on you, locked onto the side of your face and caressing your visage with their path. You blink out over the base, seeing everyone move from one place to another with a purpose in their steps. “I have no idea what I’ll do with myself all alone.” 

Whispering out the last sentence, you look at the ground, lips in a line. 

It’s a good while before the Lieutenant speaks, and he sighs deeply before he does. You don’t suppose he’s ever had to deal with something like this before. But he’s learning. All the others at Base and in Bravo Unit had been surprised that the two of you had formed such a tight bond in the limited time you had known each other. John Price wasn’t known to be the easiest person to speak to – especially when traumatized victims were on the other end. His stoic and quite confident attitude was the main deterrent, usually, but his hard eyes and face that rarely showed any emotion were a close second. 

But to you, he was the nicest person you had ever spoken to. He never made fun, poked, or prodded, and he certainly didn’t act mean or bossy toward you. John was kind and warm; gentle when you got to know him. 

And you quite liked his company. 

John’s sigh puffs out over the air, and you grab the sides of his beanie and pull it farther over your head to cover your ears. You send him a curious glance and watch his fingers tighten, one eyelid creasing farther than the other when he looks at you in turn. Locking eyes, you can’t help the small smile that twitches your lips, liking the natural handsomeness of his face. You wonder what a full beard would look like over his cheek beside the current scratchy stubble that you had always known.

His eyes flick to your lips, and his teeth grind against each other for a moment before they snap back to your face. 

“They’re sendin’ you out in three days, yeah?” John asks, scratching at his jaw with three fingers before settling his hands back into his vest. 

“Yeah.” You affirm, smile turning to a frown. The man tenses minutely beside you before clearing his throat.

“Well, where they shippin’ you off to? Someplace nice I’d imagine. Heard somethin’ about bloody Oregon, but they wouldn’t give me much more than that.” You tilt your head at that, expression turning amused.

“You asked?” 

“‘Course.” He raises a brow, and his eyes crinkle down at you. “You expect me not to?”

Face suddenly hotter than the sun, you blink rapidly, snapping your head to look out at the base once more. You may have imagined it, but John’s chest jerks in velvety chuckles you miss due to the ringing in your ears. 

What was happening to you?

A small silence wraps its arms around you before you gather the ability to speak again.

“I think it was Washington, actually.”

“Hm, that it?” John frowns to himself, “Lots of people, Love. How are you feelin’ ‘bout it?”

“I don’t really get a choice,” you chuckle, licking your chapped lips as your pulse rises, “whoever has space was kind enough to offer it, how can I say no to that?” 

“By tellin’ ‘em you don’t want to.” Price shuffles so he’s standing in front of you, blocking the people you were watching. He splays his hands at his sides and waits, blinking with a loose jaw. You nod an approval, though feel confused. 

His hands go to rest on your arms, holding them incredibly light; barely applying pressure but you lean into him anyways. You enjoyed it when he touched you like this – the only person you would allow to do so besides nurses. Your tension softens into pliable clay when he watches you. 

You could get lost in them, you knew, his eyes, if you stared for too long. There was an undeniable attraction to the man that you wanted to push away, but couldn’t help yourself. John was everything to you – he brought you books to read, sat with you as you ate in the cafeteria; he sat up with you when you radioed him about nightmares in the small hours of morning. 

That memory made you giddy. Price would stay in his barracks – unable to leave because of curfew – but would speak to you over your shared channel. Use that soothing tone of his to make your eyes flicker back into slumber until he hears your soft breath over the line and sighs. 

John’s throat releases a grunt, bringing you back to the present. He was staring at you softly, a small smile on his lips. You try not to suck in a soft breath. How long had you been staring at him?

“Focus, Bird.” You can’t stop the mute giggle on your tongue. 

“Sorry.” 

The Lieutenant's head tilts, and his usual expression shifts back. He studies your face, eyes sliding over to the bandages above your eyebrow. 

“If you don’t wanna go, tell ‘em, okay? No one can force you to do anything.” He sighs. “I need you to understand that.”

“...Where else would I go?” You mutter, keeping your eyes locked. “It’s not like I have a home, John.” 

His eyes snap away to look at the wall behind you, narrowing. The expression makes you grin, finding it funny when the man thinks so hard. John blinks, cycling back to stare at your lips. 

The air heats and in your chest, you feel your heart beat just a tiny bit faster. Grumbling, Price peels back and releases you before his hands travel up to his beanie. He pushes it down farther, lightly ruffling your head in the process. 

“Hey!” You huff, annoyed. Your hands flap above your head, shoving his digits away as his chest jumps in low chuckles. “Jerk.” 

You shove the fabric from your eyes and beam. 

“Couldn’t help myself, Love. Here, let me.” John’s hands find your chin, fingers so delicately, brushing the chilled flesh that immediately warms at his work. One limb stays, while the other goes to fix the position of the hat.

Sucking in a slow breath, you look up into his eyes and blink as he focuses on your head with a concentrated furrow in his brow. How did he always manage to make you feel safe? Take away your worries as if they had never existed? If there was one man on earth that could make all of this better, it was the one standing right in front of you.

It would always be John.

“Will you keep in touch?” You whisper, nervous for the answer, and his eyes momentarily snap to yours as his motion slows. A pause.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.” 

“Hm, well then, I'll write ‘til you tell me to stop.”

—

The reports make you want to bash your own skill in. In the dim light of your office, you sit into the deep hours of the night in your chair, spare reading glasses on your nose to help you force away the blurriness from fatigue. You had spent the whole day with Wren in the medical ward helping the civvies get settled and the nurses with the workload. Such a large influx of patients had set them back for weeks, but it couldn't be helped. They weren’t the people to push anyone away – you knew that firsthand. 

You were still in contact with a few nurses from your own stay all those years ago. Good people.

Swishing another of your signatures on a confidentiality document, you slide it to the side and stifle a yawn with the back of your hand before picking up the next file. Your fingers flick the manilla paper open to where you plan to write gruesome details into the blank lines of the sheets inside, and you just begin to let your ink bleed into the paper when your mind suddenly runs to a brown-haired Brit. Pausing, you blink sleepily before pulling the pen back and setting it on the table with a long sigh. 

“Fucking hell.” A groan escapes your lips. This had been going on for hours. You’d try to start something and then the thoughts would get blocked by that damn man. 

He was even more handsome than you remembered him. Lightly tapping the tabletop with your nails, you can’t deny the heat that had entered your body when you had seen John again. The coarse beard. The writhing muscle of his thighs paired with that tapered waist. 

He had aged beautifully down to the very atoms of his makeup to a point it made your breath go thin; pupils widened in a primal display of need. It was pathetic. But the carnal attraction had always been there along with the normal crush. There was something you had learned a million times over – it was never going to be anyone else but John Price. Even so, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You’d had plenty of boyfriends throughout the years – small flings that never lasted. 

None made you feel as secure as the once Lieutenant’s simple presence had. Wren had told you in the med ward that he was a Captain just the same as you, now. Captain Johnathan Price. If anything, it made you mad that the title had a nice ring to it.

Your face twists into thinly-veiled annoyance. What gave him the right to come waltzing back? You thought he was fucking dead. Instead, you had been ghosted so bad you joined the goddamn military to help cope. Fuck, maybe your therapist had been right all along.

You’re just about to let off a spring of audible curses when a knock on your office door makes you flinch, eyes scrunching before sense finally finds you again.

Can’t I wallow in peace? You ask yourself, hoping Shrike hadn’t gotten into a fistfight at the local bar in town again. I swear I need to put Thrush on watch duty for that woman. Maybe Eagle’ll convince him for me. 

“Come in.” You stand as the door opens slowly, hinges echoing out as you slide the reading glasses off your face and toss them down. “I swear if Shrike got suspended again I’m going to hit her over the head with the code-of-conduct manual.” 

Snapping your fingers and cracking your neck, you huff when no one responds before turning to the door.

“What’s going–Oh.” 

John stood in the doorway, wearing nothing more than a thick black cotton shirt that covered his large arms and hugged just the perfect amount over his triceps. It showcased his large shoulders before being tucked into his cargo pants. For once in your life, you think you’ve seen him without some sort of hat on his person. 

Freezing, you stare wide-eyed at him. John frowns from where he lets the door automatically shut, nodding his head towards you firmly in greeting as your heart kickstarts. His large hands enter his pockets like some guilty teenager as you gape at him. 

John clears his throat. 

“Bird.”

“Get out.” You deadpan, not bothering to hear the man out. Price groans, head tilting to the side to glare at the wall as his jaw clenches.

“Love, would you let me explain–”

“No. Frankly, I’ve had enough adrenaline rushes for one day, you damn jerk. Now, get out of my office.” You begin making your way from around the table; pulse flying through every point in your body. 

You can’t be here, John, you clench your fists, please, you can’t be here. 

Annoyance sparks in those blues that you love to stare into, but all you do is go to stand right in front of the man with a violet frown that he mirrors. 

“Bird.” He says again, setting his feet.

“John.” You raise a brow and cross your arms. The Brit growls, gaze flicking away with a heat to it before wafting back like fog over water.

“What’re you doing here?” He says slowly, trying to keep the peace between the two of you.

“Well,” under your arms, your hands shake, “what the hell do you think? Working the same as everyone else. Or at least I was trying until you showed up.”

“That’s not what I bloody fuckin’...” John trails off, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath and letting the tension in his shoulders loosen. His hands exit his pockets, and you stare as they splay by his waist. “Please, Love. I’m not trying to argue with you.” 

“Arguing is the least of what you should be worried about.” Grumbling under your breath you lick your lips as his eyes lock with yours. 

There was something there you couldn’t name, but it sat on the tip of your tongue – perhaps close to the emotions of guilt and horror that left the Brit’s jaw tight and his eyebrows constantly furrowed. Had he really never expected to see you again? 

Yes. You figure with a heavy heart and a spark of hurt. Had you really been so discardable? In your mind, you had thought that you meant something to him. But maybe that was just another lie. 

Letting out a scoff, you roll your eyes before looking away.

“Weren't really many options for me.” You concede a small portion of yourself if only to get him to leave so the way he makes your lungs sputter and face heat can cease. The others would make fun of you for this. A pointless crush on a man you hadn’t stopped thinking about for ages and held a great deal of resentment toward. When would the self-sabotage end with you? “Thought it was a better way to help others like me.” 

You turn back and raise an expectant brow. “Happy now?” 

John just continues to stare, lips thin and pulling under his beard hair as he raises a hand to itch at his jawline. A growl digs at your throat. 

“John. Leave.” Not able to help yourself, you spit out, “if you wanted to quit talking to me all those years ago – you could have just told me instead of making me think you were fucking dead.”

The man’s head immediately flinches back, face scrunching in genuine confusion as his mouth parts. Under his shirt, you see his heart skip a beat.

“What are you sayin’ Bird? I never did anything fucken’ like that. What are you on about?” He shakes his head, “you stopped answering me.”

“The fuck are you saying? No, I didn’t!” Reeling back, you throw your hands above your head in a display of surrender; about to slink back to your desk and try to forget the heat of John’s body and the blaze of his eyes. “God, I give up on you and your stupid accent. I have reports to get done without your presence making me want to vomit.” 

“Oh, my presence,” The Captain throws out a humorless chuckle that makes you want to cry. “Eh, you’re angry at me – you have every right to be, Love. I fucked up,” He growls, teeth gnashing, “But don’t fuckin’ lie to me. That is not what bloody happened – I never stopped writing you.”

“What the hell do you mean that’s not what happened?!” Your scream surprises you, with your voice bouncing off the wall like a demented banshee was in the room. You snap back around on quick feet and stalk over to the man. John’s eyes widen at the enraged tone and he blinks in shock as you continue, backing up a single step when you get in his face. “I waited and waited for you to send another letter – I waited months for nothing! Do you know how that felt, John? To-to go over in my head that maybe you never made it back from that Black Op at all? That you were dead somewhere in a fucking jungle or a desert or anywhere? I tried to get in contact with everyone, and nothing panned out. They wouldn’t tell me shit. So don’t stand there and say it never happened like that, because that is exactly how it happened!” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears are dripping down your chin, hitting the floor with muffled plops.

 John is slack-jawed, eyebrows all the way up on his forehead and orbs stuck on you – on your obvious panic. His breath is heavy, and you feel it spread over your face from how close the two of you were; you had ended up pointing a finger right into the Captain’s peck. Under your harsh press, your flesh felt his pulse flying off the rails. Your nose scrunches as you sniffle, aggressively ripping your limb back to your side. Oh, but he had been so soft under you; his skin beneath that fabric reacting to your own by pulsing to life. John’s tongue wetted his lips. 

Scoffing, you take a step back, but the man speaks before you can get far enough away. It was quiet, how he said the words, and his expression was one of genuine confusion and concern. His eyes were brighter than the moon – that gray space rock put to shame by the rolling beauty of his optics that reflect light far better than she ever could. Gentle Selene, how did it feel to be beaten by a man covered in more death and blood than anyone? Who’s skin is tough and callused so perfectly that a child of Ares wants to feel those fingers caress her in forbidden places. Oh, to be kissed and loved by him. To be worshiped like a god. 

“What in the hell are you talking about?” It was nothing more than a gasp, and you see his fingers twitch to touch you; to hold you to him as if nothing had ever happened.

“John, I’m not repeating myself.” You sob down a breath, looking away and shrugging pathetically.

“Bird, listen to me. Eh, eh. I…I never stopped sending you letters, yeah?” Blinking, you turn back to him and frown dumbly, your eyes furiously dancing from one wrinkle of his forehead to another. A minute passes where you feel more tears drop to the floor. 

“...What?” Confusion laces your eyes, “but I never got anymore after…” 

You trail off, letting the sentence die as your heart does. 

What does he mean he kept writing letters? I…I waited and I never got any. None of this made any sense, but the man in front of you was never one to lie. Ever. 

John takes a step forward and you tense. He freezes, face hard and jaw set beneath his beard. You can tell he’s still confused – just as you are, but his attention is fully on you.

“Can I touch you?” He asks lowly, hands outstretched but never even grazing your shaking shock-filled form. His thick fingers are all separated, the digits lightly curled inwards to the palm. Those hands. Would they even feel the same as they did back then? 

But did that matter? Neither of you was the same person anymore. Both of those people had been lost in the annals of history – their story was already over and done. The pages turned. Cover closed. 

Those two kind people had died. They were buried together under the ground, bones turning bleach white and wrapped in vines; nothing more than a ghost of a dream.

“Bird?” John whispers, his head tilting down to look at you closer as his chin bumps his chest. His feet move carefully as his hips shift and you feel his body heat like a noose around your neck. Your resolve was slipping, but it had already been fraying when you had first laid eyes on this changeling – this person wearing the Lieutenant’s face and eyes. 

John.

You nod without looking at his creased eyelids, and he slips you into his firm hold without a second thought. 

“Oh, c’mere, Love.” Standing heavily, you breathe in a deep breath as your head meets his chest, body wound tight. How many times have you dreamed of this? Finding him again despite all of it? It felt…wrong. 

You had been sure he was dead. How was he not dead? 

“Little Bird, I’m so sorry.” Your eyes widen, and a sharp gasp is ripped from your mouth; lips instantly begin to shake and pull tight. 

No, you want to scream, no don’t say that to me, John. Don’t do that to me.

But he mumbles it again into your hair as his hand cups the back of your skull, weakly swaying back and forth in this dim office surrounded by blood and death. His body is like a rock all around you, and as your arms rise to wrap around his waist, you hear his breath shutter down over your forehead; his lungs hitch. 

“I thought you died.” You hate the whimper that gets muffled by his shirt as you nuzzle into it. Hate it with a burning passion. When was the last time you had let yourself break like this? Left staining someone's shirt with tears and muttering fears into their chest. But this wasn’t someone, this was John – John had promised you he would come back for you, always.

And so John just holds you tighter and kisses your forehead. He lets you cry. He makes you feel safe where no one else ever could. 

The man – a triumphant Orpheus – keeps you close until you can breathe firmly again. Only then does he carefully peel back, and you catch a glimpse of his soft face. The face that you missed ogling as you walked beside him. His hands go to cup your cheeks, thumbs slipping to wipe away tears that clog your vision with his quick eyes falling to study your visage; you liked when John took care of you, even if you knew you could handle it yourself now. 

He made everything better. 

Peering into his eyes, you catalog the new aspects of his face as your breaths mingle, bodies close and intimate. He had more wrinkles than you remember, and his eyes were even more cold. John’s beard was perhaps the change you liked the most besides the nicely trimmed head hair. 

“MacMillan.” He grunts out and you frown as he continues with a sigh. One of his arms goes to slither around your waist, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t be separated for one more second. “He didn’t like that I was writing you, Love. Said I’d been too distracted. Must have stopped the letters from gettin’ out…bloody fucken’ bastard, he is.”

You hum, content for the first time in a long while. John’s chest moves against yours – pressing into it and making you ache with every fast puff of air. Noticing the rapid movement of his heart, you look deeply into his expression and find his pupils blown wide, a deep heat taking root around the room. 

“If I had known, I would have found a way to give ‘em to you myself.” Your body tingles, and your fingers dig into his skin from around his waist as your noses nearly brush. He doesn’t pull back. “You know that, don’t you? I’d have hopped on the first damn plane – shown up on your doorstep. Gear and all.”

“Now, I would have paid to see that, Captain Price.” He purrs, and the vibrations of his chest make your eyelids flutter. “Standing on my porch like a husband who came home from war. Pity.”

Chuckling breathly, you can’t help but giggle back, leaning into his hold on your cheek. You don’t remember ever feeling this happy. 

A moment of stolen breaths and wandering touches ensues; beating hearts that make muscles writhe and inner tensions reach a breaking point. Finally together again after so long apart – there were so many things to say to each other. 

“Hm, Love?” John mutters as his nose bumps yours, making your head lightly tilt to the side to make his lips brush yours with every panted gasp. You lick your lips and accidentally slide your tongue against the side of the Brit's mouth; you watch his eyes darken with a smirk. 

“Yes?” You wonder aloud, eyes hooded, and his gaze narrows on you – a blatant enticing accusation making John’s skin thrum with electricity. 

“Can I kiss you?”  A breathless grumble. 

“Yes.”

Your lips meet with a clash of hellfire and a song of lust, sparks like jumping embers lighting across lit flesh. Digging into his waist, you enjoy the way John’s ribs flare with large lungs as his teeth clatter into yours, the way his grip on your face trails to your neck, digging and making you gasp into his mouth when he slightly presses into your pulse point. 

He chuckles pridefully before reconnecting his face to yours, feeling your heart pound outside of your body. The two of you were so close to one another that it was nearly like you were trying to melt into one being – an amalgamation of calluses and milky scars; violence and unspoken words. 

The both of you had been waiting for this for years. Ages.

A swipe of his tongue over your lips and suddenly your mouth is wide open, letting the muscle delve into you before retreating once more; leaving strings of saliva as you let him separate. Face hot and breath panting, you both stare at one another with swollen lips, red and bitten. There’s a small moment of quick inhalations and banging chests before your nails suddenly dig into the small of his back, dragging him forward once more as he heaves under your hold. 

No need for talking, you could get everything you wanted to say across just by how you bite into his bottom lip, how your knee brushes his crotch and leaves him jolting into you. Groaning into your mouth. 

John’s fingers kneed your flesh, every brush like a cattle prod. Without even realizing it, both of you had started to back up, your feet skimming the floor as one of your hands went out behind you to connect with the desk edge. 

“Lift.” You mumble into his mouth, and not a second later the man’s large hands grope at your thighs, squeezing once before he effortlessly manhandles you upwards. Your legs spread and go to wrap around his waist, locking at the ankles and producing a deep churning in your gut.

When your backside lands on the desktop, your lips have traveled to lay nipping kisses on John’s neck and under his ear; hand now over his abs and dragging down while your nails leave him shivering. He grunts and clenches his jaw when you bite into his flesh, the delicious tickle of beard hair brushing your nose as you watch with feral satisfaction upon the flush on his complexion. 

The Captain’s hands run up and down your hips fervently, mapping out the flesh above your loose sweatpants. Before long there’s the feeling of pressure forming above your core, a deep imprint of tented cargo pants leaving a familiar feeling of passion leaking out into your panties. The both of you were utterly addicted to the other. 

“Eager?” You breathily wonder, teasing, leaving another hickey on John’s pulse point as he side-eyes you with blown pupils. Your gaze only catches a flicker of a smirk before his hands suddenly bore down into the skin of your thighs and his hips cant into your core. 

Gasping out a moan, your fingers twist into his shirt, face falling onto his shoulder. 

“J-jerk!” You keen, face hot, and mouth open to help you suck down air before he does the same motion again, liking how you look when his erection rubs the right spots. Shaking, you feel John leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on your skin, beard coarsely stimulating your already warm skin. Under his unrelenting hold, your legs quiver to try and move faster.

Smug bastard, he was enjoying this.

“Now, then, who’s eager?” A confident superiority was stuck to the tone like the slick was making your underwear stick to your slit. It felt dirty, but you liked when he talked like that – tried to use your words against you as his own pleasure was making him go slack-faced. 

How would it feel to have him moving inside of you? Leaving you sobbing from pleasure as your shared release dripped over the floor and his veins caught your ridges just right? 

Your back arches into him, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling as his hand presses into your tailbone to angle you upwards into him as he groans into your shoulder and stutters his animalistic pace. The feeling was unlike any other you had experienced; you could feel the electricity every time he stimulated your clit, leading to involuntary jerks on your part and thin breaths. There was barely time to suck down air over the lightheadedness. 

“I-” Your voice cuts as cold wetness slides down your folds, and you shiver despite boiling. “I think you’re the one rutting into me like a bitch in heat, John.”

“Well, you’d be right,” he growls, and your fingers slide down his shirt before you can slip into his pants. The Brit sucks in a sharp breath and his other hand, once on your thigh, goes to slam onto the desktop in a quick motion when you play with the strap of his boxers. “Fuckin’ minx.”

You smirk, angling your head to the side to watch his normally stoic face begin to break when your nails trace the trail of hairs that lead down. Close but not close enough to where his cock strains violently; twitching as the telltale leak of precum stains his underwear and pants. You doubt your appearance down there is any better. Everything sticks to each other so tightly that you were slightly worried your desk would need a deep clean. 

John’s eyes are closed tightly, teeth clenched tight when your nails trace circles along his prominent ���V’ line while his abdominal muscles tighten to an attractive degree of internal yearning. Around his waist, your legs are vibrating with eagerness, your skin so sensitive it was like every nerve was being fired. Oh, you liked that look on his face more than anything.

“You’ve got to say it, Love.” You watch as his biceps tighten and strain, hand over your desk clenching into a fist behind you. Your hand dips lower in his boxers as your core begs for something to fill it – anything to make the cum drip out of you and give overstimulated aftershocks. Your other limb goes to pop the front button of his cargos as your sweaty face angles itself to connect your nose with the Captain’s larger one, smashing against it desperately. “Open your eyes, John. Tell me what you want me to do.” 

Breathing over his visage, he flickers his eyes open with a small struggle and you almost moan at the heaviness of them as they gaze at you. He says nothing to you, but his digits at your tailbone leave their position to mirror your own actions. Your confidence stutters when John deftly pulls at the string and slips his rough pads under your panties, stopping on your body where you wait on his. 

Your eyes slightly widen and your heart beats impossibly faster. 

So that’s what this is…some kind of cat-and-mouse game? Alright.

The desk is uncomfortable under you, but you find you don’t even care anymore. Staring into John’s unblinking eyes you raise a brow. 

“Not saying anything?”

“I’ll leave it to you. Do what you wish, Princess.” Your fingers experimentally skim to the base of his cock, playing with the hairs and feeling his fingers mirror, stopping just above your aching clit and barely touching you. This would be easier with the clothes off, less awkward angles if you would just fuck each other like you both desperately wanted. Raw and fast, no time to breathe before starting another round to make up for lost time until the two of you were too tired and sensitive to even rut into each other without passing out. But the two of you were too currently obsessed with battling wills – this was a game that made you even wetter, and him harder. 

But, fuck, it physically hurt not to have his dick inside of you right now. Maybe a substitute could work? 

Your fingers grip him inside his boxers, and before you can laugh at his throat-strangled moan of carnal pleasure, his own are delving into your drenched heat relentlessly. 

“Fuck!” You whimper, hips jerking as your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back. He has the audacity to steal your laugh from you and throw it back as it puffs out over your cheeks. 

When John feels the drowning wetness stemming from your slit and he curls his digits, he can’t help the vile smirk that infects his lips; a raised eyebrow, and a comment on his hot breath.

“All this for me, hm?” You don’t answer, too lost in the blue of his eyes and the sparks that emulate at having another living being pulsing over your tight walls. 

“S-shut it.” Groaning, you pant trying to move your hips before he growls in front of you, making you pause as your hand around his cock twitches.

“None of that, now.” There was no amusement in his eyes, but a steel-like determination and a demented tilt of his head as his forehead connected with yours. “We’re gonna help each other, yeah? Make it a little game of who can get off first. Can you do that for me, Dear?” 

Where has your confidence gone? Has it leaked out of you? 

You whine as your eyes crinkle, desperate for something on your clit despite the feeling of being stuffed by two of John’s large fingers. John frowns, and his thumb hits the perfect bundle of nerves like he could read your mind. Writhing, you feel your eyes wet with pleasure-tears.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your mind is going so fast that it’s blank, only able to focus on John and how his hips sputter to try and fuck himself on your hand. He was just as needy as you were, skin flushed and muscles tight under his clothes.  

“C’mon, Love.” He groans, nipping at your wet and red mouth and pulling at your lip as his calluses rub in small sparking circles, trying to get you to respond. Your hips careen forward to chase him. “Where’s my sweet Little Birdie gone, eh? She’s so wet for me, can’t have lost already. Listen, now, okay?” 

He begins to fuck you with his fingers, moving painfully slow in and out, pushing and prodding as you moan and gasp when he runs over the tense walls. But you do listen – God, how couldn’t you? 

“You hear that?” Your eyes widen and your hand tightens over his cock like a vice. Your own cunt was so soaked that every motion of John’s fingers made an obscene squelch, and your walls tighten in retaliation around him as he groans deeply, feet shoulder length apart. “There she is.”

You match his pace with your hand, collecting his precum at the tip and spreading it down the shaft as you both get each other off with fast breaths and locked eyes. 

“T-that’s a girl.” John can’t help the way he moves faster, eager to release the strain on his balls, his fingers rapidly moving and thumb pressing tightly as you squeeze around him. “Fuck.” He growls, hunching over you and taking a peek down to where your sweatpants and panties strain to hold his hand inside as you work him. “Fuck,” he repeats, “such a lovely fuckin’ cunt of yours. Grippin’ my fingers like a damn noose, you are. Can’t wait to—”

A strangled whine breaks through his clenched teeth when you twist your hand, creating a rhythm of your own that makes sweat break out on John’s forehead. 

“Bloody…” his head falls to your shoulder, where you lick and bite at the side of his ear with hard teeth, thighs burning as you jump every time his thumb weakly stutters over your clit. Your ankles dig into his tailbone. 

“C’mon, John,” you gasp, sweat trailing your spine and soaking into your clothes as the sound of rabid slopping echoes off the walls along with loud moans and guttural grunts. “This is what you wanted, right?” He bites into your shoulder through your shirt. 

The Brit was close, you could feel it in the fast careening of his hips; the way his dick in your soft hand was twitching and covered in just as much wetness as your splayed slit was, where John’s fingers continue to spread you violently wide. But his motions had faltered, but still, that tightening in your belly was there even as he slowed at his impending release. Your pleasure stemmed from seeing him lose it under the twist of your wrist and the lick of your tongue under his ear.

His groans were getting louder, body hunching in around you as the desk knocked into his knees. 

“Little more,” you like the way his beard burns your neck flesh, how his body pulls you even tighter against him so you won’t take away his climax at the last second. “C’mon, let me feel it.” He gasps and twitches a whine stuck deep before it is expelled from his lungs as he shakes like a leaf against you. 

He shoots his cum down to stain his boxers and cargo pants and you look down in a daze to look at the patch, but his locked fingers inside of you involuntarily curl all the way up, pressing into that spongy spot as you clit it pinched so tight your eyes widen. Before you can stop it, you're moaning out loudly and breathlessly, back arching and releasing just like that. Spazaming, it’s cutting through you like a knife, filthy stickiness coating John’s hand in a thick layer in an instant as your walls clench.

The both of you shake into one another, bodies coated and clothes wreaked – fingers and hands not willing to part from the other's wreaked pants. 

Whining, you force your flicking eyes open and feel John breathing heavily into your neck. Sucking down fast breaths, you lick your lips and state, perhaps a little smugly, “I…I win.”

A panting moment of sweat-coated silence. 

John starts laughing, deep bouts of shaking movements that make you follow. In the dim office atop a ruined desk, you both lean into one another, clean hands digging into the others’ clothes and hair. The lingering pleasure was addictive. 

“Fucken’ hell…yeah, Love, guess you did.” The brown-haired man pulls back, and your hand falls from his cock and lands in your lap. You unlock your ankles and shiver when his fingers brush inside of you when he takes them out, teasingly running over your overstimulated clit and huffing, amused when you whimper pathetically and slap his hand away. Glaring, he smirks and you roll your eyes. Raising a brow as sweat falls from your nose, you shift over the wood and stare at John as his hidden emotions wash over you in the form of blue water.

You can’t really think that I’m done with you? You want to say.

“What do I get, then?” Your thighs twitch, legs still splayed around his wide hips. He frowns teasingly.

“What’s that?” 

“I won, didn’t I?” Staring intensely, both of your hands go to hold you up behind you, leaning back so you can place weight on them. Already, your slit is aching again, your navel pounding as the room smells like sex and messy release. “I want a prize.”

“That how it works, then, Captain?” John sighs, crossing his arms and puffing his chest as your leg moves up and down his thigh, “You expect to be rewarded? Hm, you’re in the wrong profession, you are, Love.” 

“No,” you smirk, “I’m not.” 

Reaching, your fingers grasp the bottom of your shirt, feeling John’s eyes bore into your skin as you pull the article over your head and let it hit the floor. You hear his breath get shallow, and, disliking how the cum staining your lower body feels, you lift your hips and slide both your panties and sweats to your ankles with a quick motion.  

Looking up at John, you smile innocently, only clothed in a bra.

���Take off my shoes for me?” His blue eyes are barely visible anymore, black already taking over as his piercing look stays on your shiny cunt like a dog with a bone. You see his breath get shallow and the hard-on under his clothes once more grow larger. “John?” Prompting him to move, you take one of your hands and spread your folds. 

The man’s hands twitch, feet shuffling, but other than that he stays stone still until you speak once more, even if he’s almost physically vibrating at the sight of you. 

“I’ll let you clean me up if you hurry up and get my clothes off.” His large hands snap to your laces, untying them expertly and pulling them from your feet so they clatter to the ground. The remaining fabric follows. 

Giggling, your breath gets caught when John’s fingers trail up your ankle, his free hand going to lay firmly at your opposite knee. Using one of your hands you reach up and unclip your bra, slipping it off your shoulders. The reports on your desk are all most likely ruined – you’ll need to rewrite them tomorrow – but for right now you’re transfixed on the sight in front of you. 

John looks into your eyes and utters, “you sure you know what you’re doin’ Sweetheart?” 

“Take off your shirt.” You smile in return, your fingers going to slip into your eager cunt, still burning from John’s long-gone relentless digits. Your eyelids flutter at the fire. “And your pants. I wanna feel your muscles movin’ when your tongue cleans up my cum.” 

His chest is heaving like a wounded animal, and you whine when you curl your own fingers in your heat, wishing it was John’s dick. Fuck, you needed him to hurry up already. Your digits couldn’t satisfy you as he could – when you had been stroking him you had marveled silently at the girth, the sizable veins that pulsed in your grip when you squeezed. 

Watching like a hawk, John slowly moves and pulls off his shirt as you lazily fuck into your wet entrance. You spy his large pecs and nicely shaped waist as chiseled abs make your mouth water and lips part in soft puffs of breath. The coarse hair over him was the same shade as his beard, and you followed the trail with greedy eyes until it disappeared below his unbuttoned and stained pants. 

Your chest gets just a little bit together; cunt tightening dangerously.

“You’re droolin’, lovely,” John smirks down at you, “careful now, don’t wanna finish on yourself. Just makin’ more of a mess for me, hm? Naughty.” He strips off his pants and boxers, kicking his boots off, and you stare wide-eyed at the spring of his dick, noticing the way it hits against his stomach with a molten red tip. 

You would have gotten on your knees and sucked him off, but he beat you to it. 

The Captain forsakes his own needs and does as he’s ordered – he kneels to the ground and levels his face where your cum stains your skin and nudges your fingers out of the way. He begins to lick along your thighs as your wet hand goes to slick his hair back, gripping the strands and observing the phenomena below you with a slack jaw. 

Oh, hell. 

He stares at you as he does it, cataloging the flesh that makes you jump and the places that leave you shaking with need. His tongue sucks and bites, but never goes where you want it to, instead, he just spreads your legs farther and makes comments as you grunt above him.

“Such a mess, Princess…I’ll have to take care of you.”

“That’s it, Love, fuck my face – try and get off. Good girl.”

“Fuckin’ delicious, that is, eh? Here, have a taste.”

You’re left a shaking mess by the time the remnants of your orgasm are traded for saliva, his muscle slurping up every droplet without complaint as his fingers leave bruises in your thighs from how tight he has to hold them to keep the limbs apart. This wasn’t going to plan for you. 

Whining and whimpering, you ache for him, your lower body throbbing as more slick begins flowing. At this rate, he was going to suck you raw and leave beard burn all over your inner thighs. 

“J-John,” you plead, disheveled as your hand grips his hair tighter, biting into the brown whisps. You were going to climax without him even entering you.

“Hm?” He groans out, licking a long stripe over your entrance but never sinking into it. Your body shivers and jolts, chasing that friction but he moves away too soon. You nearly sob. No, no, no. I can’t take it. “What is it, then?” 

“Fuck me.” You feel the twist of his lips more than see it.

“Yeah? That what you want?” 

“I swear to God, John–!” He stands so quickly that you yelp, legs wrapping behind him as his arms go around your backside and hike you into his hold. 

Moaning loudly, you feel the press of his cock over your slit, whining and immediately trying to shift in his grip to attempt to slip him inside of you with a twisted face. But the Brit’s hand on the small of your back is tight, keeping you trapped against him. 

“Not yet.” He growls in his ribcage, and you connect his forehead with yours and force yourself not to beg as he narrows his eyes at you. But you're not a fool, you can practically hear his cock trying to move against your heat; his thighs quivering. “Fuckin’ hell – you’re impatient. Your whole squad like that?”

“You’re a damn tease.” You huff, rubbing and pressing your nipples over his chest hair to stop the throbbing in them. “Ruder than I remember. Didn’t even let the girl suck you off.”

“Then you’re gonna hate what I do next.”

Your confusion bleeds into your expression as he situates himself in your desk chair, leaning back into it with a groan and squeezing you in his arms. His dick slaps at your backside when he lets you go and just stares. Furrowing your brow, he tilts his head down at you as your arms rest on his pecks, playing with the hair there and tracing scars.

“Go on.” The Brit prompts with a tilt of his head toward you, a nonchalant expression on his face that makes him look more like he used to – outwardly not caring but studying every move and twitch of your body.

He watches you like a wolf.

“What?” Questioning, your head pulls back as your legs fall limp at his sides to dangle above the floor.

He huffs. “You said you wanted your prize – take it, then.”

“...b-but…”

“Go on. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

You glance down, utter exasperation showing on your face, “how am I supposed to…?” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out, Love.” John’s hands go to sit on the armrests, fingers swishing as they hang off the ends. Your face burns, annoyance filtering into your veins as your eyelids crease. 

Trying to prove a point, you stave off the awkwardness of the angle and shift upwards, using John’s broad shoulders as a way to lift yourself up. Taking a shallow breath, your breasts are shoved into his face when you free one of your hands, going to grasp him to line the joining up. You feel him distantly nipping at the supple flesh, his hands over the rests jerking as his legs open wider under you. When you grab him, he grunts, and your nails leave crescent marks on his skin as you clench your jaw as it rests on his head. Huffing, you jerk him off a few times to make his body writhe before, in one fell motion, letting yourself fall onto his dick. 

You both let out sounds that are more animal than human, deep wails and keens that shake the office walls. 

“Fuck, John,” you make noise like a damn porno, head slotted in his neck as you shake and jolt this way and that with rapid nerves that shoot down your arching spine.

He was tearing you open – ripping you apart with the spearhead that curves so deeply you struggle to breathe correctly. Jesus, was he in your throat? Gasping, you feel so full in such a unique way it leaves you addicted, your cunt so tight around John’s cock that the walls inside of you quiver with every small movement. When he gasps out breaths with his closed-tight eyes, you notice the way your body convulses, red-hot pleasure rocketing to your brain and pumping endorphins before clenching around him. 

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit, I can feel his goddamn veins digging into me! Your small mewls of pleasure spill out even as you both stay still to adjust. Sex had never felt like this before.

John spasms, hands immediately snapping to your thighs to keep you there as he wheezes. 

“Fuckin’....christ!” Blinking rapidly, you bite into John’s neck to ground yourself, hips rocking despite his pleas. “So tight. Squeezin’ my cock just perfect. Take it, Love. Fuck, c’mon, take it.” 

Your slick and his precum make it easier, the wet squelching once more resuming at a faster pace than before. You release his skin, intent on chasing after the orgasm building around this man’s dick that hits every spot like it was target practice.

“John, feel so good,” you moan, breathing loudly as the Brit watches you take him like it was nothing. 

“H-hell.” He groans long, hands helping you jump when your legs shake too violently every once and a while. He’ll have blood dripping from his shoulders from how hard you dig into him, but watching your cunt swallow him over and over again is payment enough as a ring of milky white forms at his base. “Look at you. Fuckin’ good girl. Keep it steady, now.”

“P-please,” you sob, eyes shiny as your walls ache – your needy clit was burning. John watches wide-eyed; blues boiling. “Clit. I need…” 

Trailing off you connect your lips to his when one of his thumbs goes to your nerve bundle, quickly working at it in tight circles that molds your lips onto a silent scream. John whimpers when your pussy clamps, his senses all covered in you – your scent and how your tits bounce so beautifully – a second later he can’t help himself any longer. 

His feet plant themselves to the floor, and he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth as his hips rapidly thrust, skin on skin the only sound above high moans and muffle pleas of release. 

It was far past words anymore, just feral animals seeking an earth-shattering orgasm at the other’s hand. Drool was slipping down both of your lips, splattering down chests and cheeks as sloppy kisses miss marks. 

So close. So close.

The snake was coiling, walls shaking and alternating between squeezing too tight and letting John hit as far into you as possible. You suddenly wail into his hot mouth, eyes rolling back when he angles his thrusts back towards himself as he slouches in the chair.

“There it is. Bloody bastard.” John hits it again, leaving you collapsing onto his chest as his hands go to wrap around your back, large arms using you to stay still as he pants ferally, eyes wild as they stare down at your blessed-out expression. Fuck, were you even able to speak anymore beyond whines and gasps? The clench of your pussy?

“Don’t worry, Love,” One thumb still plays with your overstimulated clit, making tears splatter his chest hair and get stuck as every sliver of skin that’s coated in sweat and joined slick. “I’ll make it up to you, yeah, I’ll fuck you proper later.” 

Your eyes roll back, back arching into him. God, was this not fucking you properly? But then again, John was a gentleman at the end of the day – his idea of proper was probably a bed and a glass of water on the nightstand. 

But this was so much better. The neediness of it, the emotional release besides the physical. John could fuck you anywhere at any time, as long as you got to hear him speak to you like that. Breathless, whiny like he never was and probably never will be outside the company of just you – even after being separated, you knew he was never one to do things like this.

“Tell me you’ll let me cum inside this cunt, eh, Love,” his accent is stronger as he gasps, raspy, with muted growls, before his head tilts back behind the chair’s backing. He speeds up until you were sure the chair was going to break in two, the material squealing. “Let me breed you like I always wanted to, yeah? Watch that spent cunt drown before I pump back in and stuff you full again. Please, Bird, let me…Let me…!”

You're about to lose it, hands raking down his chest and legs numb before you can gasp out a single sentence before the rope snaps.

“God, John, don’t…don’t let any go to waste.” You moan and slot your head under his jaw, feeling his beard bristles burn your nose when you finally let the snake strike. 

Freezing, your lower body jolts as if connected to an electrical line, walls constricting around the foreign entity inside of you as it continues to chase its own high. One firm thrust, two sloppy ones, before a groan so loud you feel it reverberate in your heart enters the heavy air. There is an undeniable fullness to your womb that shoots deeply into your being, splattering your thighs and staining John’s abdomen. From there it’s small instinctual thrusts as your ringing ears twitch at the sound of cum dripping on the floor. Panting, you can’t help the fucked-out way your mouth parts to release a satisfactory sigh at the feeling of euphoria in your brain and cunt. 

It felt like you were floating on air when John finally started rubbing a hand up and down your back, shaky fingers hard and sure as they trace old marks. 

Still short of breath, the two of you revel in each other's company with palpitating hearts and half-lidded eyes. Still slotted under his jaw, the brown-haired man mutters softly.

“New?” As he taps a bullet wound on your right side that’s been healed for years now. 

“Hm,” uttering softly with a hoarse voice, you smile weakly with warm cheeks, “old. Three years.” 

“...I have a lot to catch up on, then, yeah?” 

“Very much. But don’t worry, I’ll be patient.” He chuckles, making your form move with him. You take a deep breath, finally feeling yourself come back to earth, albeit on unsteady feet. 

A good bout of calming silence forms before you speak through a haze of fatigue. It had to be late by now – incredibly late. Maybe just using the pullout bed would be better than doing the walk of shame back to your barracks. John could join you here, you decide internally. 

“How did you know I’d even speak to you in the first place?” You ask as the man shifts under you, lightly lifting your black and blue thighs as you begin to whine quietly; he shushes you with a calm presence. Delicately pulling out, he lets his spent cock exit your red and swollen hole as more combined fluid falls from you to run over his hips and pool below. Resettling you, he brings a hand to the back of your head and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“The radio. You kept it.” You grin shakily, feeling him run his fingertips down your spine, finding more milky scars and caressing them with callused hands. 

You’d have to tell him all of your stories later, and in turn, he’ll tell you his. There was a lot to learn, but this certainly wasn’t a bad spot to start. Nuzzling farther into his neck, you sigh dreamily as his pulse sings you to sleep like a lullaby. Before you drift off you whisper out a reply that leaves John shivering. 

“...I guess I did, didn’t I?”

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TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @antigonusyuki, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @lora21, @330bpm-whiplash, @michirulol, @john-pricee, @cl0wncxre, @jade-jax, @anna-banana27, @lothiriel9, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @bespectacledhuman, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @wolfyland07, @shoe1412, @jaimiespn, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaut2029, @shmaptin, @levietc

(if anyone has any idea why some aren't working I would love to know lmao)

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[wanderingxiao]

Hi hi, I love ur writing it satisfies exactly what I'm looking for

If you dm can I request Kazuha just absolutely wanting our touch and can't go without it like his sex drive is high and hmmghhh yeah, he would like send you videos of him touching himself whenever you asked for a video of him, whenever you stop touching him for a second he starts to get whiney and cries :P

Darling~

Kazuha x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: sub! Kazuha, male masturbation, mentions of sexting, suggested unprotected sex, poss. OOC Kazuha

A/N: I’ve never written Kazuha sooooo hopefully this is okay?? 👀 I did my best! Enjoy please!

You were like a drug to him. Your heart was enough to send him into heaven, your touch enough to send him to hell. You were an addiction he could never get enough of. He was completely and utterly smitten with you, there was no other way around it. You were bad for him, everyone could tell. But just like a drug he kept coming back. Unable to sate his gluttonous desires.

“Please, I need you, h-hah~ It’s unbearable…! W-Want your hands on me… p-please, (Y/N)!” Kazuha’s cheeks were dusted a rosy red, his lovely white hair accented by a dash of crimson sticking to his sweaty forehead as his thumb shakily pressed send. His other hand was fisting his weeping cock, aching and throbbing, desperate for your blissful touch. At this point he couldn’t get himself off without you.

He knew you were at work. Did he care? Fuck no. He needed a hit and he knew you would always cave in and come home anytime he sent you a video of him touching himself so lewdly. Of course, there were certain weeks where he couldn’t bother you, thankfully, this week wasn’t one of them. He tossed his phone aside after he sent the dirty texts attached with a video file, his face coming to bury into your pillow, inhaling your scent sharply.

“Ahh, hah, please. Need to so bad~ I m-miss you so much…! Ngh-! It hurts…” His whines were utterly humiliating. Tears welling up within his crimson lust filled eyes while his hand was beginning to become slick with his pre-cum. The wet and slicked up sound of his fist moving echoed through the room, accompanied by the rustle of the sheets as his body twitched and writhed on the bed, aching for you to sate his burning needs.

As expected, he heard the front door opening and closing, hurried steps approaching the bedroom getting louder and louder. The anticipation was enough to bring him closer to his climax. The thought alone making his eyes roll back. The door flung open, your bag being dropped to the floor before your professional blazer was thrown to the floor haphazardly.

“Look what we have here? Can’t even get yourself off without me? Cmon, Kazuha… you can’t be that desperate for me can you?” Your words made him shudder. He loved and hated that beautiful teasing tone you held when in the bedroom. “Haha, even the bed is already stained… you’ve made such a mess, baby. Do you think you deserve to be touched?”

“I-I’m sorry! I c-couldn’t help it…” Kazuha whimpered softly, his hand stilling before scooting back on the bed to allow you to crawl over him. He could hear his heartbeat within his ears, his abdomen doing flips as he watched with bated breath as your hand approached his throbbing cock. Your index finger poked at his balls, before sliding your finger up the underside of his leaky erection. “M-More-! Please!”

“So whiny, Kazuha~ I’ve barely even touched you properly.” Before he knew it your hand retracted from his drooling arousal, causing him to whine at the loss, his eyes beginning to well up with needy tears. His lips parted, drool slickened and swollen, whimpering out a small haiku. “J-Just like morning dew, I weep a-and wait for your warmth… t-take-“ His voice wavered, a small tear escaping his eye as he finished the heartfelt haiku to you. “Take me to heaven…~”

Your heart skipped a beat, cheeks flushing lightly. You should be used to his poetic and “pure” down to earth side, but hearing such a heartfelt Japanese poem leave his gorgeous lips, you caved into his desires. Your hand cupped his balls before going down to kiss the tip of his cock, rubbing your face lovingly against it while Kazuha could do nothing but moan and throw his head back against the pillows.

“So sweet, Kazuha… my precious little darling~ I’ll give you what you want, m’kay?” He could only nod frantically in response, his hips bucking up to rub his throbbing cock against your face urging you to suck it. You obliged to his unspoken request and took his tip into your mouth, flicking your tongue up and down his slippery tip before swirling your tongue around the underside. His body trembled beneath you, his knuckles turning white from gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“N-Ngh-! Hah! Please!” Your hand massaged at his scrotum, your cheeks hollowing to suck on his tip before bobbing your head slowly, taking more and more of his generous length into the warmth of your mouth. He was melting by the second, and you could feel the way his balls tightened and his length throbbed and twitched under your tongues spell. “W-Wait I’m g-gonna- ahh! -cum! C-Cumming!”

You were so good with your mouth he couldn’t help himself. Coupled with your searing touch, your magical mouth, and his masturbating before you arrived he was so close to coming undone so quickly. His face flushed red, his mouth pooling with saliva as he cried out in pleasure. His slender fingers entangled into your hair, bobbing your head faster against his length before he pushed you down harshly with a loud moan.

Thick ropes of cum spewed into your mouth, the salty taste immediately hitting your tastebuds. You moaned at the sensation, loving the way you could feel every little twitch of his sensitive tip spurting ribbons of his seed. His body twitched violently feeling you moan against his sensitive cock, his body overwhelmed by overstimulation from the amazing blow job you’d given him. You could feel your pussy pulse and your clit throb in need at such a lewd display.

You pulled your mouth away from his sensitive length, streaks of his cum spilling back onto his cock as your mouth left him. He could see the lewd drips of his cum from the side of your lips, newfound arousal flipping his stomach and bringing his cock back to life for another blissful session. You could only giggle in response before licking your lips and pulling your dampened panties off from underneath your pencil skirt.

“How cute, ready for round two, darling~?”

Hopefully it was okay! Thank you for reading! 🥰❤️

#kazuha #kazuha smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha #genshin smut #WXrequests

[agendabymooner]

mamma mia (again) ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc)

“they ask me why i’m so hot, ‘cause i’m italiano.”

summary: a series of video clips, but it’s only just danny ric being in love with a certain lester alessandro.

content warning: hint or two of suggestive comments (nothing detailed or graphic), use of explicit language, filler blurb or something, danny being a simp for few videos straight (“have my kids” type beat), lester being an etsy and pinterest enthusiast, literally posted this blurb from my phone so they’re crazy about their image limits 😩

note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE 105 FOLLOWERS?! UHM? seriously, i’ve never been so happy. i honestly only started posting these because i have them ingrained in my brain and won’t let go until i write or make something. just indulging my imagination you know? enjoy xx

masterlist

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏

【VIDEO ONE — daniel ricciardo is a gatekeeper】

[1st image: yeah, i dunno. everyone just found out that i made it official with my girlfriend and i’m pretty sure i just saw lando weeping in his room. max was the second to react to it and i’m so sure he recoiled. he did say that he didn't want to know what happened in imola few months ago.]

[2nd: interviewer: what happened in imola few months ago? daniel: *chuckles* wouldn’t you like to know - nah, i’m messing about. nothing happened in imola besides from me retiring to my bed early. i think we were both drunk when i posted that photo and i know it looks lewd but there's no way we could've done anything questionable.]

[3rd: d: but yeah. we didn't really want to catch that much attention until maybe i don't know... when we're married or something *chuckles* i: keep it a secret until the wedding? d: yeah. but charles, the absolute fool, posted videos during the concert with me in the background. It would've been real nice if no one caught onto it until we had a mini ric running and racing, you know? just to wreak havoc.]

【VIDEO TWO — daniel ricciardo talks about lester’s love language in his gq video】

[1st: i got this journal from lori. it has my initials "DR" on it for daniel ricciardo*laughs* it's one of those many first gifts that i’ve gotten from her throughout our first few months of dating. her love language isn't just shitting on my life -she has every single aspect of love language within her and this is one of them.]

[2nd: when she gave this to me, all she said was "you can write out your thoughts if you can't let them out through your mouth. *giggles* "she clearly had her thoughts sorted out that time especially when she showed me a page with an embossed phrase or nickname, "tasso di miele" - it means honey badger. she apparently bought the custom embosser from etsy and almost fought tooth and nail just to get it in time. *laughs even more* i love her so much, i honestly wanted to cry that day.]

[3rd: lori actually has a laptop with *laughs* itunes on it and she still got some playlists from 2010-2014? yeah. she’s put a lot of old taylor swift songs in my ipod during the christmas break. my favourite album right now is speak now. she loves red.]

【VIDEO THREE — lester hates ashy hands confirmed】

[1st: daniel: i think i should just cover my hands with gloves all the time. lando: that literally has nothing to do with anything that we're about to do. d: lori tells me that my hands are rough whenever she holds them.]

[2nd: l: or you know... you can just use a hand lotion all the time because your hands dry up real fast? d: ah that's true. i wonder if that's why lori just casually put a bottle of hand cream on my travel bag. the thing smells nice though. it’s chamomile.]

【VIDEO FOUR — it’s okay to spoil your partner; even if it’s an accent chair from her pinterest board】

[1st: d: lori just sent me a picture of an armchair from ikea. l: why was she randomly in ikea, by the way? I saw the text. d: window shopping. but anyway, she saw this armchair that she had on her pinterest board. she asked "pretty or no?" with the green velvet chair. l: what did you tell her?]

[2nd: word to word? I texted her "LOL you should see the accent chair I've gotten you for our flat in monaco." l: are you serious? *laughs* d: she wouldn't tell me what she wanted for her birthday. I only got a brief idea when she left her phone in my pocket once and gave me a free access to her pinterest boards.]

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[jaylleoo14]

An Indirect confession 

Unbeknownst to his knowledge of those simple words

>GN!ReaderxJade

A/N: For those who don't know, in Poetry there’s this thing where if you ask someone if the moon is beautiful it basically is an indirect way of saying “i love you.” And if the other person agrees then they are basically reciprocating and its mutual, so I guess you can get the gist of where this is going >:) muehehe (also sorry if the writing is kinda dry 😭My brain juices were not juicing 😔) This is also pretty lengthy so I apologize for the long read ^^;

[wc] 12.2k words

[disclaimer] Jade 

[characters] Jade, Ortho, Deuce, Jack, Grim, Floyd, Azul

Normally students tend to avoid going to Octavinelle, the dorm that seems notorious for its shady under swept deals and the students residing there seeming to be all hushed and tight lipped about certain information. Some things they shouldn't know, yet they do and it makes you wonder how exactly they get such information. Yet one thing is undeniable, and it's the fact that they have a great cafe which tends to be overpriced, but usually of befitting prices for what they serve and provide. 

Mostro Lounge, a chic sea themed cafe which is managed by Azul Ashengrotto and runned with students from all other dorms who seek to make extra cash. Its meals and tableware, everything from the music to the decor and the overall vibe was perfect for one to leisurely dine in and perhaps hang out and study. The calming hues of blue and purple, a shimmering accent of silver which compliments the place helps create a nice pleasant place and provides a great aesthetic. It surely did look pretty and elegant, the food there being just as delicious and the drinks delightful as the jazzy music sets in the vibes. 

Nov - 12, XXXX

It was during the colder season where the sun usually starts to set earlier and the days would be shorter, the nights getting longer to be able to view the starry sky. Although not too late, the moon had already risen and was in full view. You sat near the glass wall where a full display of the waters were open and of view to you, nothing letting it shy away from watching eyes. Nothing roamed in the waters as you can make out, the only thing lighting up the dark void passed the glass being the lights illuminating the room you currently were dining in. Different colored corals and sea plants can be seen wavering around on the floor-the currents making it wave around slightly, its movements kind of enchanting you as you zone out for a bit watching the steady pacing. 

“If you aren’t going to eat your food then I call dibs!” Grim exclaims right at the same time he snatches up your plate of food, to which you ordered some simple and light vermicelli noodles. The bowled plate is taken away and you didn’t even seem to mind honestly. The soothing jazz music, the calm night in the lounge, and the background noises of side conversations from other students which can be heard as the workers walk by to drop off their orders or bust their tables. It was almost lulling you into a state of drowsiness, the temperature just right for you to even take a nap right here and now. 

“Tonight is very nice, don't you think Grim?” You say almost absent mindedly as you continue to stare at the empty waters. Your form is still like a doll as you keep your eyes on the glass pane window. 

“Because you’re treating me out for food? Heck ya! Nyahaha!” His response only prompts you to roll your eyes and a smirk spreads across your face as you sarcastically shake your head. 

“Yea well maybe I won't next time. After all, what are the chances of you getting all full marks on Crewel's potionology test?” Grim can only respond with a confident and upbeat response, ensuring that he is bound to continue to excel and this was just the beginning. You can only scoff but in all honesty, you can't deny that you were indeed proud of him for being able to reach a perfect score. 

And if it weren’t for Jade’s help Grim wouldn’t have done so well. 

“Are you enjoying your night here in our humble dorm, Prefect?”

Speak of the devil. Jade comes up with a hand placed over his chest, giving you his signature smile as you turn to look at him, your head no longer facing the pane glass wall. Grim is engrossing himself in the food, perhaps the reason why he isn't feeling too timid with his presence at the moment.

“Surprisingly.” Your answer was short and blunt, but it was enough for Jade to chuckle a little as he finds amusement in your rather tired honesty. 

“Well I’m pleased to know that you are enjoying yourself in our lovely sanctuary (y/n),” his usual politeness being one of his main outward characteristically point. A yawn escapes from your mouth, placing a hand over to try and show courtesy and politeness as you nod your head to his response, not being so responsive. 

“You seem to be quite exhausted, Prefect, perhaps you should start heading back. Or if you want, we can lend you a room. For a certain price of course.” You don't even need to look at him to know that he has this sly little smile plastered on his face until Grim interjects before you can respond.

“Nyah, we actually prefer to go back to Ramshackle now that we are done eating, right my henchman?” 

“Once I’m done with my drink, then we’ll head back,” and just as you said, you reached over to cup the blue wine glass that was filled halfway with a fruity and sweet concoction of juices that danced on your tongue when you took a sip. Wanting to occupy yourself with something, you play around with the metal tube as you proceed to enclose your lips around the straw to take a generous sip of the beverage. Its taste was able to freshen you somewhat as you closed your eyes and relaxed a little on the leather seat, the smell granting you a satisfied hum. Grim next to you could only whine for you to hurry up - not wanting to stay any longer in the presence of one of the eel twin, but just to play around spitefully you purposely started to drink a lot slower and Jade can only watch as he’s always done and squint his eyes a little as his smile widens. 

Jade’s attention is brought onto the glass wall that he noticed you were staring at before, looking up only to be met with the glimmering silver that soaks into the waters swaying waves. The full moon looks back down at him as he continues to stand in front of your booth, continuing to sip your drink as Grim starts to lay next to you to take a nap.

“The moon is quite beautiful tonight, don't you think Prefect?” He says it ever so calmly, saying those words as if to spark another conversation with you. Though it only prompts you to start coughing and hacking as you accidentally slurped in your drink a bit too fast and it ended up going to the wrong pipe. You’re practically hurled over, hitting your chest as you wipe your mouth and Jade can only watch with wide eyes.

“Nyahh!? What happened?!” Grim springs up from the sudden jerking motion of your coughing figure and you clench the ledge of the table sitting at the end of the cushion.

“My, did I say something out of the ordinary (y/n)?” Once you look up to find his full attention on you, you can only try to calm down and inhale a breath as his display of a friendly smile bore into you. Why are you making such a big deal? It’s not like those words had any meaning in this world, so there's no need to be making such a big deal (y/n)!

You’re quite embarrassed honestly, especially because you thought he just confessed right then and there. But of course, that can't be the case because those words don't mean anything in this world like it does in yours. Quickly reaffirming yourself in your head, you let out another cough to clear your throat and catch your breath. 

“A-Ah, no uhm, I thought I misheard you is all haha. But ahem, I would say that tonight is rather lovely haha.” And you try to regain your composure as you divert your eyes and finish up with your drink. A small hum can be heard from Jades tall figure as he places his fist over his mouth. “Well, I see you are rather more awake now. Pray do tell what you misheard, I am curious to know what got you so worked up dear Prefect.” 

Your cheeks are only decorated in more of a slightly deeper shade of red, and suddenly the straw is very interesting to look at as you twirl it around in between your gloveless fingers. “You won’t get it, it won't make sense anyways. Just some nonsense.” You can only wave your hand dismissively and he can't help but grow even more intrigued as your brows furrow and you continue to brush it off.

“How unfortunate you can’t seem to try and help me understand, even though I went through all the trouble to help you and Grim with your studies. I find that rather unfair especially since I see that you two have bore fruit in your success due to my aid.” 

His words help you gain back your composure, resteeling yourself as you straighten your back and shoot him a placate smile. “Hmm? Whatever do you mean Jade? I’m paying you back by visiting you and dining at the place you work at so you can gain income. I think that’s plenty enough to repay you.” He only squints just slightly at you in response and you’re pretty sure you can feel as if you’ve triggered something in him be it good or bad - that's something you don't really wanna find out though.

“Oya? You came to see me specifically? I don't see it as a valid reason enough considering that's how one would usually repay others when they are indebted to them.”

You slightly pout at him, and as usual Jade always seems to counter your attempt of being sly and snarky with his own silver coated tongue. “Whaaat? Are you saying my visit isn’t enough for you? How could you, even though I came all this way just to see YOU specifically.” You lean into the cushion almost dramatically and animated to further emphasize your offended playful nature. 

He seems to be fairly accustomed to your playfulness and responds accordingly. “Although you claim to come over to Octavinelle to come visit me specifically, I account this is the first we are talking since you made your appearance. I believe Floyd has interacted with you more than I have today.” 

“Okay well point is, I still came over for you. And to express my thanks I was helping the profit of the Mostro Lounge. Not only will you benefit but Azul would greatly appreciate my patronage! Plus, Floyd is happy knowing I'm here. See? Everyone’s happy!”

Finding the littlest details possible, you make it as important as ever. But Jade is not fooled by your little over exaggeration and nitpicking. Of course, one would know another's tricks well when they themselves do it. And he seems to find great entertainment from the way you carry on with this drag. He truly does feel a sort of fondness for you with the way that you are. Not that he’s ever said however. 

“Are you assuming that I am satisfied with what you’ve offered me?” When you look up at him you can see the way his eyes look more meticulous now, as if he’s observing your every move. Dissecting you piece by piece as he awaits for your response, patiently waiting for when he could strike and counter your words. You leave your mouth slightly agape for a moment thinking carefully for what your next words were to be, carefully trying to see what you could say in response - however the pressure of having to hurry and say something quick overrides you because if you don't, then it would be like you couldn’t match up to him. Not like you could ever, but it wasn’t a nice feeling when you let others know they have a winning upperhand. And he seemed to relish knowing that you were feeling this pressure from the way he was looking at you.

“I am assuming you aren’t dissatisfied with it.” Putting up an undeterred front, you do your best to try and keep a steel-like straight face as you stare at his mismatched eyes. 

With the way his eyes go back to their non-disturbing look you can only assume you satisfied him with your play of trying to be undisturbed. The tension is then suddenly broken when Grim lets out a complaint, saying how he’s tired already and that he just wants to go home now. Sprawled over your thighs as his back lays against them as if he was putty, an unprompted sigh escapes your mouth and you pick up grim in your arms, standing up as you begin to excuse yourself. 

“Goodnight then Jade, I’ll excuse myself now.” 

“And as is the same to you, pleasant dreams to you Prefect.”And with that, Jade goes ahead and picks up the empty porcelain dishes and the glass cup, remnants of eaten food and a little puddle of liquid to show it had been put to its intended use. 

‘I came all this way to see YOU specifically.’ Your words replay in his head as he walks back to the kitchen, a slight sulky pout on his face to which no one is able to witness. 

“I wish you could say that more often my dear (y/n).” Setting them down into the sink, the water runs as he turns on the faucet. The pressurized water splashes as the dishes make contact and he can only stare down at it as he begins to think of you. A little susurrus naturally slipped out under his breath as the sound of running water deafened his words of one sided longing. “Hmm, it seems that they were trying to avoid agreeing about the moon… ” 

On the walk back to your dormitory, Grim looks up at you from where you hold him in your arms. “Hey Henchman, did Jade say something funny back there?” 

Looking down at him, the pale ashen color of the moon's rays blanketing you both as it illuminates your path, you can only give him a slightly wide eyed response. “It’s nothing. Just something from my world is all. What he said about the moon, it means something in my world…” Your voice can only trail off as you think back to the incident, the familiar expression of embarrassment starting to bubble up again as your face heats up to which you can't help but bury your face in Grims fur as you recall what a stupid reaction you must’ve given. Grim is grumbling and complaining as you indulge in his fuzziness, seeming a bit shocked and confused from your sudden outburst. “Yer squeezin’ me ahhh!”

Loosening your grip on him, he lets out a dying wheeze as if he finally escaped from a crushed boulder on top of him. The sound of your shoes walking softly on the ground fills the air aside from the huff you let out as you try and sort yourself out. 

You’re overreacting here (y/n), Jade doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know what those words mean! And even if he did it’s not like you love him either. Though that simple phrase was enough to have you thinking about him the entire walk back, perhaps going to give you some sweet dreams just as how he wished you back when you left. 

He definitely knew what he was doing-as the leech he is-was able to slither his way into your thoughts as planned and stick there. Something similar to a parasyte as one can compare. The way he just sticks in your head as you now roll in bed, constantly replaying his words. Why do you keep replaying these words? Why does your heart race when you replay the scene in your head over and over again and you remember how his voice sounded? Why were you starting to make random scenarios in your head, visualizing him and you wa- SNAP OUT OF IT (Y/N)! 

Sure no ones ever said those words to you before but you have to remember that it means nothing! So what if the moon is beautiful? That's all there is! You must be crazy if you think you may be coming down with something regarding that little slimy eel. He doesn’t know what those words mean anyways, why would he say that to you?

Point is, he doesn't know. End of discussion!

. . .

He knows. 

Oh he soooo knows, though you don’t know he knows. At least, not yet.

Moving the pawn over to create space for the castle to move, Jade makes his move while hovering over the wooden chess pieces. Closely calculating every piece carefully despite there being no other attentive player on the other side. Not wanting to catch your attention like a snake hunting for its prey, he goes ahead and advances forward quietly.

Nov - 6, XXXX 

“Deuce! Jack! W-wait up for me, please!” You tiredly try to jog towards Deuce and Jack, though you would say it's less of jogging and more so walking at a jagged pace. Sweat drips down your form, drenching you and stains of sweat are pitted on your underarms and chest. You slow down, bending over as you place your hands on your knees to catch your breath. The sun's rays washing over the lands as you three stand beneath it, its heat adding onto more of excretion of sweat. 

“N-Never again. You two are trying to kill me!” Huffing and gasping desperately, Deuce comes over to pat your shoulder in hopes of comforting you. His hand placed softly atop of your draping shoulder as he slightly bent down to your crouched figure. “Sorry (y/n), I didn’t consider how today's club session would be like for people who aren’t accustomed to running so much at a consistent rate.” You can tell by the tone of voice that he genuinely felt guilty having you get put up with all that running, and Vargas being Vargas was not so lenient. 

“My feet are in so much pain. It feels comparable to wearing heels the entire day, I hate this so much.” A feigned sob is ushered out and as the reliable person he is, Jack comes over to try and comfort you as well. “I can lend you an arm if it helps. Really, you should have expected that much running at least when you offered to come participate in the track and field club.” To be fair, you only came because Deuce wanted you to check out the club in hopes that you’d be interested in joining. So you gave it a shot.

Never again. Jack shakes his head as if scolding a little child and the sound of him clicking his tongue can be heard, his brazen feathered white locks of hair swishing from side to side as he jerks his head. 

“I can lend you my arm as well! Please don't hesitate to ask for my help if you need it (y/n)! I’ll gladly let you rely on me.” Deuce’s sweet fluffy voice reminding you of a newborn hatched chick makes you soften up a bit, and despite being so sweaty you went ahead and latched onto Deuce as his offer seemed much more friendly and welcoming. He seemed to not mind it though, and Jack seems to not care whether or not you planned on relying on him. Though you acknowledge his outwardness to help. With a settled huff, you three began to walk down the dirt path that maps out the campus. 

“Maybe my feet hurt because I don't have the proper footwear.”

“Your preparation skills are even worse than I thought (y/n).”

“Look, what's done is already done okay? No need to keep saying stuff that would get me into a dour mood Jack.”

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to restate the obvious then if you’ve already acknowledged it.”

His words just make you hit him slightly on the arm, not in a hurtful way but a hit that was as light as when the waves would crash onto your feet in the sand. He didn’t mean to sound ill willed, but he has his ways of showing concern for those he cares about. He grimaces for a bit but simply overlooks it knowing that was just your usual play, noticing the way his ears would twitch from your usual playfulness - you guys had a comfortable dynamic and it showed.

“If you don't have any proper footwear, we can go stop by Sam’s shop and buy you some.”

Deuce suggestion diverts your attention back onto him, your arms still linked together as you lean on him for support while you stagger off, giving him a reaffirming nod. He seemed pleased to be of help to you, as if fulfilling the role of a good friend. 

 “Yea, let's go. I need to buy me some new socks anyways.”

“Socks? Not shoes?” 

“I don't think the problem is with my shoes. Although it may not be all the best to comfort me in running, it still gets the job done.”

Jack can only look down to observe your shoes as if to analyze what you said is true, trying to identify whether or not your words support your claim. His yellow sunset gaze which could be compared to how the sun's rays shined is heating you all right now as it bores down on you.

“Jack, before you say anything. Don't.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don't look at my shoes, I’m poor okay. I feel like you’re secretly judging me.”

“Not exactly judging per say.”

“See! That doesn't make it any better.” A light chuckle originates from Jack as he playfully looks over to you, a small smile soon cracking on his caramel skinned face as his voice dies down. 

“How are you feeling Prefect?” A firm hand is now gripped on the other side of your shoulder, the feeling of your sweaty and sticky body meshing with your clothes as your scent muddles in with the fibers making up the cloth hugging your figure. Deuce has been walking alongside you now for the entirety of your guys walk as you head towards Sam's Shop, still quite a distance away. Feeling the need to check in on you, he continues to firmly lay his hand on your shoulder to better comfort you. 

“Deuce, you’re so considerate. I feel like I might just let out a heartfelt sob for how sweet you’re being right now.” You let out a feigned exasperated sigh - in response though Deuce’s reaction is one of surprise which you could feel without even looking at the way his body stiffens a little.

“E-Eh? This really is nothing though (y/n), you’re in pain after all. It would only be natural to help someone in need.”

“True, but you know this really helps a lot. I’m in so much pain, I practically don't wanna walk anymore.” 

“You’re over exaggerating a bit,” A little quip response from Jack makes you pout and shake your head to show you denied it. 

“Not true! Gosh if I had a significant other or something I'm sure they wouldn’t mind carrying me! Ah the convenience of having someone like that.”

“Do you really think they’d do something like that for you?” 

“Would you do that for your significant other?”

And without a second thought, he immediately answers. Only then does he seem to find how meaningless his question was upon answering yours. 

“I think having a significant other would be nice, but I don't think that's something I am trying to actively pursue right now.” Deuce chimes in his own thoughts and you let out a little laugh which also chimes just as beautifully.

“I think you’d need to be better at talking to girls first before you even consider trying to pursue one.” Light hearted laughter airs around you as you lean into his arm, your shoulders bumping up rhythmically. 

“W-wha-!”

“The last time you talked to a girl, or tried to court one - if you can even call it that - was the ghost that kidnapped Idia.”

Deuce sputters out, feeling a sense of embarrassment as you tease him about his interactions with the ghost bride, his face burning a bright red like the cards in which glossed a new coat of red paint on white roses. Besides you both, Jack takes into consideration your walking speed. He truly was showing consideration in his own way and it was something you didn't mind at all, in fact it made you feel appreciative for what he was doing. He would be leaving the two of you in the dust if he wanted to, only showing that he does indeed care about you. Deuce does the same of course, considering you are latching onto him for support as you stagger about. 

“I would understand why Deuce would just freeze up like that. When it comes to expressing those types of feelings it’s always better to actually be sincere about it.” Jack has always been more on the serious side, always viewing the perception of love as something that should last forever between you and your partner. A sense of loyalty and something not to take lightly of.

Love has many different meanings to it. A vast broad way to make a connotation of sorts which could be related in any way whatsoever. Something that you blatantly already knew of course. “Ok mister love counselor, I get that part alright? Besides, it’s not like you have to actually say you love them, I think it’d be harder to believe if you did say ‘i love you’ though.”

With his ears flattening with your sarcastic remark he should’ve known better than to say something that has at least more than once been thought about. 

“She didn’t require you to say ‘I love you.’ As long as you were a good enough candidate to fit her unrealistic, old fashion, and cliche ideal standards then you’d be good to go.”

“Okay but I meant it in a general sense. Not just for the incident with Eliza.” 

“What do you mean?” His question beckons to be answered as his tail waves from slight confusion, Deuce also sharing a similar if not more confused look. 

“Well if someone told you they loved you in a romantical sense, would you believe them?”

“Am I supposed to doubt them? That’d just be rude and disrespectful to their feelings.”

“Me personally, you could say it would also depend on who's confessing to me.” 

“That's true too Deuce. I could say the same. But I don't know. How could you believe someone who would confess such strong words towards you? I find it a bit surreal.”

“Has anyone ever confessed to you (y/n)?”

“Shut up Jack.”

A low snorkeling chuckle comes out unprompted as he muses himself in your dejected response and Deuce can only shake his head a little from the way the two of you have been slightly bantering with each other. Usually it would be Jack to be the one shaking his head, but you tend to bring out the mischievous and playful side of him. 

“I’m going to take this personally and hope that you also take me not taking your arm personally too.”

Jack is visibly taken aback with your proclamation as his ears perk up. “How childish!” 

“No it's not! You basically just told me that I'm not attractive!”

“Don't put words into my mouth!”

“Or! Perhaps you do have secret admirers and they are too scared to confess (y/n)”

Silence fills the air as you both have failed to think of such a possibility during the small moment of your little bantering, both your heads turning to look at Deuce who gives you guys a more serious face.

Relaxing a bit as Jack and you jaunted down, you go back to your usual casualness as the three of you continue your way to Sams. Your destination is not too far off as you three have been filling the time with conversation, making the walk feel shorter than usual. “Oh that might be true for most people. People may just be scared to confess to others.” 

“I mean you can always indirectly confess you know. A lot of people do that instead of outwardly confessing.” 

Deuce's eyes widen a bit with a type of child's curiosity and it only prompts you to further expand on what you meant. “Do you mean like a love letter?” Jack inquires and gives off from your earlier proposition. 

“Yeah, basically. Or you can say something to convey your feelings to them.” 

“Such as?” Deuce with his ample experience seems to show quite the interest despite stating some time ago that pursuing someone was not something he was actively trying to do. Though he still valued it as something to consider for future references in the case that a situation were to spring up and prompt him to initiate. 

An endearing smile scrawls on your face as you peer over to Deuce, Jack also listening intently as well. All this talking seems to have distracted you from the pain in your feet, but despite your hold on Deuce’s arm loosening you continue to keep your arms linked together anyways as the cool breeze comes to freshen you three up.“Well, there is this saying in poetry back in my world some people were fond of using some time ago. You basically ask someone if the moon is beautiful, and that's basically saying that you love them. If they agree with you then that's them reciprocating your feelings.”

“Ah, really? That’s some interesting and creative way of doing it. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to tell at all and only see it as a regular question though.” Deuce still nonetheless finds it rather intriguing. “Really? I’m sure there must be a saying similar to that here.” As you make it up to the shop, finally arriving after what felt like a short time despite the lengthy conversation, you find a familiar face. 

“Oh, is that? Ortho!” Waving over to Ortho, he reciprocates the friendly gesture and waves back. Seemingly, it appeared that Ortho just came back from some shopping from Sam's shop, quickly walking over in a spring-like gait.

“Ah! It’s (Y/n)(L/n), Deuce Spade, and Jack Howl! What a pleasant surprise to see you guys. Are you guys planning on getting something from Sam's shop?” His friendly personality was warming as usual and he was one of the people here whom you got along fairly well. 

Finally latching off of Deuces arm you decide to give it a try to stand as you also intend to approach Ortho with a welcoming and friendly smile. No longer leaning your weight on Deuce to help support yourself, you wince a little but endure the pain as you apply your usual weight onto your feet. Ortho seems to automatically notice and with the way his brows furrowed to show concern, Deuce and Jack come from behind standing close in the case that something happens.

“Ah prefect, you seem to be in pain! Your pain receptors and heart rate along with your tissue sensors seem to indicate you have a sense of soreness on your feet! Have you been over exerting yourself perhaps?” And as usual, due to Ortho’s inbuilt sensor indicator he seems to be all the more observant about your throb. 

“Aha you could say that. I joined Deuce and Jack in their club today so that's why. So here we are to buy some comfortable socks for me in the near future if this does happen again.”

Your lighthearted laugh doesn't seem to shake off Ortho’s concerned looking face however, so he offers to try and heal you up with some ointment packed on him. You’re grateful really, but you don't really feel all that comfortable taking your shoes and socks off right now in front of your friends after a hearty run.

“Oh no thank you Ortho. I really appreciate it but I’m sure I’d be better with some rest after. On another note, how about you search something up for me?” Your sudden change in topics catches Deuce’s and Jack’s attention as they both stare at your back as if knowing what you plan on asking. 

“Oh sure! If you insist so then I’ll leave you be then Prefect. What is it you wanted me to search up? I can get it in a blast!” His enthusiasm felt infectious and it quirks a small smile on your face despite the enduring pain. His body language conveying as such similar to how a human normally would if not for his obvious robotic decals and constructure. 

“Could you see if this saying means anything? ‘The moon is beautiful, isn't it?’” In a docile manner he quickly gets to it and with a few audible beeping computerized clicks he announces some articles and other works of literature where such a line would be found; similarly fitting the words or having the words exactly but not in a way to express someone's affection for another.

“Ah, I see. So your world really doesn't have that saying around.” You didn’t sound disappointed per-say, but you didn’t really expect much either. Upon noticing your lack of reaction, Ortho tilts his head curiously. 

“What were you hoping to find Prefect? I’m sure whatever it was we can find it together!”

Shaking your head lightly you only cross your arms and let out a slight sigh. “You see, back in (y/n)’s world, that saying is an indirect way to say ‘I love you,’ something you say to confess your feelings apparently.” Jack comes from behind and now to the side of you as he makes his presence more prominent. With an intrigued shine in Ortho’s eyes, he grips on his grocery bag slightly and brings a delighted fist up over to where his mouth would be. 

“Ah! On the way here were you guys perhaps talking about ways to confess to someone?”

“Er, not exactly. The topic kinda just happened as we were talking about how to indirectly confess to someone in general.” Deuce also comes in to step up from behind and by your side now as he too makes his presence more prominent. 

“Oh I see, the topic of love and confessions! How wondrous, should I search for some other ways to indirectly court or express your feelings towards someone?” 

Bringing a hand up to stop Ortho, you give him a little small smile to assure him that it wasn’t needed. “Thanks for the offer Ortho, but that was all I wanted at least. Everythings rather copacetic right now anyways haha.” 

“Anyways, we should better get going since I have some plans later.” Jack begins to announce as he proceeds to walk up and you soon follow after in a wobbly state, though still managing, as Deuce follows behind intentionally there to look out for you in case you’d need assistance. 

“Aww well alright then, it was nice talking to you guys. See you some time!” And with a fleeting goodbye wave, the three of you go ahead and approach Sam’s shop. Ortho now off with a tune playing as he goes down the dirt path road back to Ighynide. 

“Oh? How fascinating. To think such simple words convey tremendous feelings, fufu. Perhaps I should try saying it to them sometime when I have the courage.” Near the building of Sam’s shop, a ludicrous tall shadow looms behind a fairly covered tree.

Sneaking behind one of his towers, Jade picks up one of his pawns and sets it forward, diagonal to yours. Now swallowing and taking out one of your pawns he’s able to decrease your chess pieces. Moving your king further back out of sheer blindness and fear, all to which you know you should protect, Jade proceeds to think of his next move; now eyeing the knights in the back row which was still perfectly not in use aligned with his king and queen. 

Nov - 6, XXXX

“Sometime ago from the mirror chamber over to the botanical garden I saw Jack, Deuce, and my darling pearl (y/n) coming from the field as I made my way. I must admit, I indeed felt irked that they were clinging onto Deuce like that. However I kept my composure and decided to stay hidden and observe, something that I have always reaped benefits from.”

“To continue along, as I was listening to what they were talking about it appears that they were on the subject of how to court someone indirectly. Oh what a valuable insight to what my dearest has to say!”

In the botanical garden there sat the infamous student, Jade Leech. With no one around in the greenery place, there he sat talking to his mushrooms to which he cared for tenderly. In the placement of actual companions who could listen to his lovesick woes and scheming little ploys, it seems that he much prefers talking to his own plants which grow healthily from his careful attentiveness and candid affection. 

“Would my little shrooms care to know what it is my dearest had said?” To no response from the fungi planted in its bed of components, he only lets out a more passionate look to compel more. 

“The only thing they talked about was this saying back in their world. The person who asks if the moon is beautiful is quite frankly another way to profess your love in poetry. If the person who you asked it to agrees then they basically are reciprocating your mutual feelings. Isn’t that lovely?”

No response. If someone were to witness this surely they’d think that Jade would be a little crazy. Not like he’ll let anyone see him in this state though. Lest if they do then pray to the sevens that they would be able to see the next day come.

Adjusting the lighting to perfectly fit the conditions to aid its growth, Jade lets out a beaming smile as he thinks about the two things he tends to show more prominent love aside from his familial relations. You and his mushrooms. 

“If I continue to engage in social interaction with (y/n) then I am positive the likelihood of them returning my feelings would be higher. I’ve been doing so for the past few months now, perhaps I should start planning my confession.”

Sitting on a bench, he slumps in his folded arms ensuring that his head or arms were away from the bedded fungi; the edge of the earthy wooden table. Flashes of your face and scenarios playing in his head arise like a continuous movie film on repeat, the sound of your laughter and the feeling of his heart racing in his chest felt like he was immersed in the movie he was watching. Oh how he could replay them over and over again, a goofy love-stuck smile curling on his face as he buried it deeper into his arms.

“Jade! There ya are!” A sudden voice calls out to him and he springs up from surprise. He didn't hear anyone come in, just how long has he been in his own little world?

“Ah Floyd, what are you doing here?” Standing up from where he sat, he began to approach Floyd as he was coming over towards his way as well. A prime smile on his face yet he looked brighter than ever. 

“Azul needs ya. You’ve been gone for awhile, thought ya went out to the mountains again,” swinging down with a huff as he sits himself on the bench, he leans his head back to give him a rather laid back smile. “Good thing you were in here though, wasn’t plannin’ on tryna get you back all the way from the mountains.” 

“Oh my, did I perhaps lose track of time? Thank you for letting me know Floyd, I'll be sure to hurry along then.” The materialistic multitudes of sound coming together as Jade brushes and pats himself come together to accompany the brightful air around him. “Ah? Yer bein’ all smiley Jade, is it cus of these damn mushrooms or somethin?” 

“You could say it’s part of the reason, Floyd.”

With a click of the tongue and his brows slightly twitching, Floyd bounces up with a swift swing of his legs and starts walking alongside Jade. “Ugh, is it shrimpy again?”

“Gasp! How did you know?” As Jade makes a feigned gasp and his hand placed over his mouth, Floyd can only roll his eyes and shake his head from his fake and obvious display of faux surprise. “Urgh, keep yer lovey-dovey thoughts to yerself. I aint tryna hear all that sappy and weird stuff again.” 

“Oh dear, and here I thought you actually secretly liked to hear my woes Floyd.” With the both of them now walking off, Floyd and Jade start to talk about other affairs as they head back to Mostro Lounge.

Without realizing it, you move your castle over and take out his pawn resting on the black squares making up the chessboard. Too infatuated with his own plans, he fails to see you make a move with your knight and you proceed to place it on a white square. Ready to defend what you have left or ready to steal his pieces. 

Nov - 8, XXXX

The indifferent sounds of inharmonious male voices fill up the school halls as they go by their constructed schedule of schooling. Classes are left empty momentarily as students leave to head on and transition over to their next subject whether it be magic history or astrology, or perhaps they may skip and find the chance to slack off. 

A diversity of students are scrambling around and covering the school grounds, if seen above it might be like seeing a field of colorful jelly beans laid out on a structured maze platform. Stepping out of the classroom which is labeled at the top “1-A,” you and Grim along with many others go by the schedule as well; stepping out of the classrooms to head on over to their next classes. 

“Raaah~! I almost fell asleep there. Can you believe we’re gonna have an upcoming test in Crewel's class?!” 

A yawn can be heard and ushered out from your little fur ball of a companion, Grim. Resting on your shoulders you can only respectively share the same tired stare on your face as you step out into the school corridors. “We have a day or two maybe to study for it, it should be enough time to cover what we need to go over.” 

The wintery dim skies makes the air around you a bit more chilly than normal, making you feel a little drowsy even. “Mrmgh, why’d we have to get out of bed ~? It was the perfect temperature to sleep in!” As he then closes his eyes while resting on your shoulder, you can only give a sigh and roll your eyes as you make your way over to your shared class. With heavy eyelids and heavy limbs dragging your feet, you lazily make your way past the cluster of students. 

“Yea no kidding, I wanted to sleep in too. Any second longer and I would’ve succumbed to the comfort of our bed.” Bringing your hand to your face you start rubbing your drowsy eyes. “God the weather is so perfect to sleep in. A cold morning is so nice.” 

“I agree, I feel rather closer to home the more the temperature drops.” 

“WHAT THE FUC-/ NYAHHHHH!”

As you and Grim jump up into the air - his fur all frayed and animated looking like those Halloween black cats up on display windows during the spooky-season sales - Jade stands behind the two of you with a casual smile on his face. 

“Fufu, well I see you are rather more awake now.” Alongside him stood Floyd and Azul, the most recognizable sea trio ever. Floyd seemed to also be in a sleepy state as his slanted eyes were closed and his stance being all lazy and slump-like. Azul, ever the dashing man he is, looks back at you with a formal smile. 

“I must agree with you there Jade. Although the weather cannot nearly compare to the temperature at home, I find the cold to be rather comforting.” 

“W-What the hell Jade? Don’t pop up out of nowhere like that.” As you place your hand over your chest, the feeling of your heart beating rapidly due to the fright can be felt and heard in your eardrums. “Apologies, my intention wasn’t to scare you, Prefect.” Although you can't be too sure if he really was genuine with that apology, the look on his face said otherwise. And with a slightly scoffing click of the tongue you fix your posture and stand up with a straight posture to address him. 

“What do you guys want?” After you’ve calmed down, you press your palms on your hips, giving him a more stern expression. Grim is practically still recovering from the sudden scare as he clings onto your leg. “Oya? Asking us what we want? Why aren’t you a generous one (y/n).

“Indeed, if that's the case then I would like-”

“You know damn well that's not what I meant!” 

“Oi, shut it will you? Yer loud voice is botherin me.” Floyd speaking up in irritance causes you to divert your attention onto him and you flinch back a bit, making note of controlling your volume. Coming up to stand in front of Jade now, your attention is now placed onto Azul, his pristine air around him calling for professionalism. “To be quite frank, we heard your little call of distress just now and would like to offer assistance.” Smiling ever so politely as he places his hand on his slightly puffed up chest, you can only feel a sense of dread for what's to come. 

“You want to help us study for our upcoming potionology test? Why? What’s in it for you?” 

Feigning a shocked and offended look, Azul shakes his head slightly and you continue on just stare at him with disinterest. “Why, out of the goodness of my heart of course! I’m just trying to help my dear friend, yes? I’m just trying to show my comradery because friends are supposed to support and help each other.” Hearing his words make you snicker, and Jade can’t help but be amused a little at the show displaying your interactions with Azul. 

“Hmm? Shrimpy and little seal needs help with their studies? Oooh count me in~ hehe” Finally feeling awake with a sense of amusement, Floyds demeanor shifts to a more sneaky and cunning air around him. “Wait, I didn't even agree to this!” Grim lets out a similar statement as well, picking him up into your arms as you hold him for a sense of comfort. 

“Now now no need to be so rude. We merely just want to help.” You know damn well that he has other intentions other than to simply just “help,” and what other perfect way than to try and take advantage of the fact that you two had an upcoming test. “No way, I'd rather have someone else tutor us.” 

“Oh how your words and hostility wound me (y/n),” bringing a finger to swipe at his fake tears Azul then moves to the side and switches back up once again. “Very well, if you refuse to take my assistance then why not choose between the Leeches to tutor you?” 

Giving him the most “Are you serious” look ever towards Azul, you divert your eyes to look over at Jade and Floyd who stood beside each other. It was like you were in a bachelorette/bachelor show right now having to pick between which twin you wanted to date as Azul was the host. “W-Wait I never-”

“Time’s ticking Prefect, unfortunately we all have classes to attend so hurry won't you?” 

WHY IS HE PUTTING ME ON THE SPOT?!

Grim being firm with his whine and response simply says he doesn't want either and jumps out of your arm, scrambling off to class without you, seeing that you really were left alone in this situation. Thanks so much “companion.” Darting your eyes back and forth to Jade's polite yet somehow eerie aired smile and Floyd’s amused and up-to-no-good lazy smirk, you frantically blurt out one of their names without much thought. 

“J-Jade!” It wasn’t an easy pick, but in all honesty at least this eel can try and be tame for the most part. So scratch that, it was a rather easier and obvious pick. With a pleased smile on his face, Jade simply places a hand over his chest as if he was glad to have been chosen. “I will do my best to tutor you well then Prefect. Thank you for choosing me.” Ding Ding Ding! And it seems that (y/n) chose contestant number 2! Jade Leech! 

“Ehhh? Why didn’t ya pick me shirmpyyyy? It would’ve been so much more fun. Oh well, I’m not really feeling like tutoring ya no more anyways.” 

You guess calling Jade was a good call, but the slight glint in his eyes causes some uneasiness in you. Letting out a slight chuckle and a one-sided crooked smile, you look up to Jade who now as well stood in front of you. “Aha, yea.. I look forward to it as well.” As you make up your quick plans of when and where to meet, you four all go your own separate ways to head over to class. Thinking to yourself, you really had no choice or say in this with the way they gave you no options whatsoever.  

“Look at you looking so chipper Jade.” Floyd slightly remarks as out of the three, Jade's smile is ever so radiant. 

“Yes, I'm quite pleased that the plan went rather well.”

“‘Pleased’ is such an understatement. You seem more ecstatic to say the least, like how you are always with those batches of mushrooms.”

“Urgh, don't even mention 'em Azul. It's already enough having to hear him talk about his mushrooms and “Shrimpy this” or “Shrimpy that,” blergh.” 

“I’m glad to know I am not a direct victim of his ramblings with you in my stead.”

“Oh how you both wound me so.” And as the three walk off in the opposite direction, the show of bachelorette/bachelor has ended with you and Jade going to meet up for your little date. With Grim being there of course, but under Jade's care he is a rather easy case to take care of and Jade will ensure that things will be under control now. 

The first drops of snow in your heart flutter down as the first lingering thoughts of Jade come hither to rest in your mind. And as Jade proceeds to move his knights in places to ensure his next move winds up being a success, slowly breaking down your wall of pawns to get to the heart of what makes you stay in the game, to obtain your king and end the game. Slowly but surely, his methodical and strategic thinking would lead him to success and only then, would he be able to have your king. A game of chess to where you don't know you’re playing as he stares down at the chessboard.

I’ve been seeing him more often lately… A lingering thought nestles in as you make your way over to class.

Three pawns down, no moves made, and a clear break through heading towards your unprotected king. An open line is presented and clear for him to make a bold break for it. With slight hesitation as he's about to pick up his knight, he then draws back his hand and proceeds to bring his king up instead. 

Present Day 

Nov - 15, XXXX

“Hey Henchman, is it just me or have we been seeing Jade a lot more often recently?”

“Glad to know you’re finally noticing Grim, I've seen him around much more frequently since a couple months ago too. It’s quite…. Odd honestly.” 

I kinda wanna see him some more though…

 “You think he’s trying to get something from us?” Perched on the top of your head, Grim tilts his head forward a little to try and make curious eye contact with you. With his pitchfork-like tail wagging around in the air, you casually make your way down the stairs from NRC’s main building to head back to Ramshackle dorm.

“I hope not. Not like I'll just let him anyway, man I hope we don't see him again.”

I wonder where he could be right now… could he… be busy? It’d be nice to see him again…

With a lift of your foot, another step is placed off the hard slate wooden stairs as you now continue onward. Classes have ended and an assortment of dispersed students with colors consisting of their respecting dorms filter through the halls quickly. Some going back to rest in their dorm rooms, others maybe attending after school club activities, or perhaps some going to pursue their other hobbies. Whatever time is available, every student here uses it to the fullest.

“Ya could say that again. If he comes by again then I’ll just blow out my flames and cook him dry! Nyahaha!”

His arrogant laugh makes you roll your eyes as a soft smile forms on your face, slightly shaking your head with Grims weight on top. “Hah, sure, whatever you say Grim.”

“It's THE Great Grim!” 

With a flick of your wrist and a scoff, you couldn't bother to resay his name just for his own satisfaction even in a sarcastic manner. Tilting your head in a mischievous manner, you feel the weight of Grim scrambling and jumping off with a hoarse yelp coming from him. As he lands on his paws, you let out a giggle watching his scowling face directed towards you. 

“I was trying to look at the sky, but you were in the way, Grim hehehe.” Knowing that was not at all the case, before Grim could retort he pauses and it causes you to stop in your tracks as well. Standing on the gray pavemented pathway near the open ended exit from which you both came from, you looked down at Grim a bit curiously. “Grim? Why’d you stop?”

Now on all fours, Grim perks his head up as if tailing an annoying fly around his head. With more cat-like animatics, Grim starts swirling his head just slightly and sniffing as if he can see a delicious aroma in those cartoon episodes. “Somethin’ smells good…” 

The cold weather makes it hard for odor particles to pass through due to the more compact molecules, however you can tell just how drawn Grim is to whatever may be causing the smell. Taking a big inhale, you try smelling whatever it is that Grim may be smelling, your chest puffing up as you take in a big amount of air in your lungs. 

“I don't smell anything Grim, what are you-”

“Ah! Over there!” It seems he has found the source of whatever it may be he was smelling, pinpointing it rather quickly as he scurries off. “Ah! Wait Grim! Where are you going?!” Before you can follow suit, not so far off a voice calls out and grabs your attention. 

“Ah, good evening prefect.”

Turning your head around, you’re met with no one but Jade. His voice divulging you and making his presence known. Although so suddenly and randomly, you can’t help but feel a sense of tingling in your chest.

Jade!

“J-Jade! What are you doing here?” Changing your position from almost sprinting off, you shift yourself back to face Jade instead to properly converse with him. Upon looking up at him, you note the clouded and dull gray skies as it soars vastly. 

“Classes have ended some time ago, I was merely on the way back to my dorm. I would assume that it’s the same for you, yes?” Jade stood comfortably, not another layer of clothing on him in sight to withstand the colder weather while he sticks to nothing but his usual uniform wear. You, on the other hand, had a thicker jacket on top of your uniform to help adapt to the temperature around. 

“Well, I was. That was until Grim ran off somewhere again. Hah, seriously I might as well forget about trying to chase after him. He can come back whenever he wants.” With a defeated sigh, you slightly slouch forward with your arms swinging from back to back. 

“Hmm well if that's the case, may I walk you back to your dorm?” 

You’ve been getting used to how casual he’s been lately, considering the amount of times you’ve been seeing each other through mere “coincidences.” Though recently whenever Jades around you can't but help to have that lingering feeling of wanting to stay with him just a bit longer. Whenever he leaves he immediately fills up your mind whenever you allow it to and you can't help but let your mind wander. Is this perhaps…?

“Hello? (Y/N)? Are you spacing out?” With his hand waving in front of you to snap you out of your daze, your unfocused stare comes back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Huh? What?” 

How adorable…

“I asked if I could walk you back to your dorm. If you aren’t feeling well then-”

“Oh no! I’m perfectly fine! I just spaced out for a bit haha. But uhm, I don't mind if you did accompany me back.”

In the way you responded allowed you to give you a sense of freedom to where you aren’t actually giving him a direct and decisive response. More so an indecisive one. Slightly fidgeting with the hem of your jacket you give him a lightly aired chuckle to ease up the atmosphere. 

“So I would say you want me to accompany you back, correct?” 

“Well I didn’t say that I didn’t want you to accompany me”

“You’re rather indirect with what you want (Y/N).” With a slight tut, shaking his head like a common motion of showing one's dismay you can only rile backup to defend yourself with reason. 

“No I'm not! I said I didn’t-! Hah, whatever. Fine, I would like it if you were to accompany me back to Ramshackle Jade.” 

“Fufu very well then. It would be my pleasure too.”  Seriously, he seems to always have a way with words. Putting you on the spot like that so easily and casually. 

But at least we’d be able to spend time together again.

The two of you make your way back over to Ramshackle, following the usual pathway you commonly take when out of classes. The silence lingering between you both causes you to fidget some more as you try to make it obvious you're not at all bothered by it. Staring straight ahead while you see Jade in the corner of your eye next to you as you both walk along-side each other, you can only wonder why he isn't saying anything. Usually Jade makes conversation with you whenever you two are together, perhaps he just isn’t feeling all that talkative. An unfamiliar tension is slightly there, one that wasn’t there before and you can't understand why but to only question it. 

Perhaps it's the cold, but you feel your cheeks slightly growing a little red. What other reason could there be? Next to you Jade remains silent while peacefully walking next to you, and without your knowledge, he smiles just slightly feeling a slight of anticipation.

“Curious, but do you maybe know why Grim ran off (Y/N)?” Jade finally breaks the silence by asking a question, you feel a slight relief in your chest. 

“Aha, I don't know. He said that he smelled something good… Maybe food? Probably someone is snacking around here and he may be a victim to Grim’s antics and persistence haha.”

“That is not the case” Looking over to Jade who sounds so sure of himself, it quizzes a question out of you. “What do you mean? How can you be so sure?”

“Why, I would know of course. Because I was the one who placed some salted steamed fish near the bushes.”  

“What? Then why’d you ask?!” With a nonchalant smile on his face it can only be contrasted to your taken back and startled reaction. Placing a hand on your back, Jade continues the path while guiding you along to continue further with him. “Wait, more importantly why did you do that?”

Jade stays quiet, that smile still on his face as he continues to keep his hand on your back. Wait, now that you think about it you two are going off course and straying from the usual path you take to head back to Ramshackle. With your heart quickening in your chest, you can only start to nervously sweat at where this is going. “U-Uh Jade? Where are we going? What are you doing?” 

As his eyes slowly turn to look at you, his head still facing forward however and his smile ever the same, you can't help but to shiver a bit and get a feeling that whatever he’s planning isn't going to go well. “Oya, there’s no need to be so nervous now. I thought we might take a detour to enjoy the weather a bit more.” 

“No but uh, you didn't answer my ques-” Suddenly bringing his hand from your back to wrap around your shoulders, he draws you close into his side and it prompts you to stop your walk and just freeze from the surprise. “Why? Well I simply wanted to be alone with you of course.”

Your whole right side of your body is pressed up against his left side. With wide eyes, you don't dare to look over to Jade, refusing to let him see your sudden flusteredness. Your heart is beating so loud that you’re hoping that he can’t hear it as well. His arm around you almost longingly, the sudden stillness as you both don't move a muscle, and the sound of your heart beating at a rapid pace as if on a roller coaster. You really wish you could say that the whole reason your face is red is because of the cold and your body temperature just suddenly dropped! But it would make more sense that you’d be blue and purple then red… So then why exactly are you-

“Oh dear, look at you getting so red in the face. Do you perhaps like the weight of my arm around you?” You didn’t even notice, too occupied in your own thoughts and spacing out, that Jade had proceeded to lean forward to be face to face with you. “Wha-!”

A pleased smile is formed as he sees you snap out of your thoughts and he leans back up and adjusts his arm around you to let it sit more comfortably. Looking back up at the scenery the sky has to hold, he holds you ever so lovingly and affirmably. 

“J-Jade what is- what are-! What’s going on!?” Matching the weather, you freeze stiffly in his hold, unfamiliar to his loving touch. It was rather unusual for him to make such a bold and tender move, a foreign feeling yet for you to adjust to. 

The sky is covered in splotches of clouded gray cotton, the meek shine from the sun is still blocked by the airy cold sheet of gas yet still blinding to look at. Inhaling the dewy air that gives oneself a sense of refreshment, Jade closes his eyes and tilts his head up to admire the brightened gray scale that vasts above you both. 

“Tell me, Prefect,” beginning to speak calmly, you try to distract yourself from your close proximity and focus on what he had to say next. “The moon is quite beautiful, is it not?” 

“What?” Killing your stiffness, you’re found to be quite dumbfounded and caught off guard. “What are you talking about Jade? It’s still daytime and the moon isn’t even-”

Pausing, you let his words sink in. The moon isn’t out. His arms are around you. You both are together, secluded. You are alone with him. No Grim. No Deuce. No Floyd. No Azul. Just you and him. 

Badum. Wait, is he…

Badum. Did he just tell me…

Badum. Badum. Badum. He knows what that means…

Badumbadumbadumbadumbadum! He just told me he loves-!

“Cat got your tongue? I hope that isn’t the case, it was the only reason why I sent Grim away from us after all.” His thumb is soothingly rubbing circles into your arm while he keeps you in place, ensuring you don't spring up or leave from his hold in any way. This was like his own way of trying to calm you down, fully aware of how thunderstruck you may be at the moment; the motions of his gesture somewhat helping. 

“Jade.”

“Yes?”

“Back in the lounge…. You….”

“Yes, indeed. I said the same thing then as well.”

“Then you… Are you saying- that you… Did you just…”

No longer looking at the sky, he turns his head to give you his full undivided attention, waiting for you patiently to make your conclusion. Still refusing to look him in the eyes, you droop your head lower just a little as you feel yourself getting smaller in his arm. Bringing your hands together, your fingers start to fiddle with each limb and cloth it can find near its reach, usually playing around with the hem of your uniform under the blanket of your jacket. 

Slightly opening your mouth, your brows furrow and you swear you can feel your knees go slightly weak if not for the support of his arm grounding you. “I…”

This man is playing with me right now. 

Without even having to look, you can just feel his eyes on you. Finally reverting back to your more casual self, you shake your head with a sigh feeling more calm. “Hah, okay Jade I love you too.”

“My, what a bold confession there.” 

“At least I didn’t confess indirectly.”Finally looking up at him, you give him a bit of sass as you roll your eyes and a chuckle escapes his lips. His grip becomes slightly more firm and if you were to lean on his chest, you can swear that his heart was beating just as loudly as yours. 

“You’re finally looking at me, my dear Pearl.” His eyes soften as you look into his olive and golden eyes, his voice laced with such affection that it makes your body feel tingling with how much warmth it held despite the cold air. “Pearl…” Slowly repeating what he said quietly, letting the words sink in further more, your eyes widen and a slight sparkle glosses over. His other hand comes over and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb against the softness it brings. “Yes, my Pearl.” Jade droops his head lower till your foreheads touch, releasing his hold on your shoulder to then cup the other side of your face. Your cheeks might just be comparable to that of a hand warmer, but you can't help it. Not when he’s being so tender like this. Not when he’s locking eyes with you while giving you the most love-stricken smile ever. Not when you two are so close. “The moon is very beautiful right Jade?” You softly lull out, the growing thoughts of him filling up your head space.

“Very, it really is beautiful.” A little giggle ushers out, a giddy smile and tender hands. A loving look and a fond voice. A dovey feeling and a pacing heart. There, on the side of the public pavement road, stood two lovebirds where the trees bristle through the wind and hide them both perfectly. “It’s very enchanting if I must add. The moon that is. In fact, its shape and glow is similar to one of a pearl. A very beautiful one indeed.”

Tilting your head a little closer, your foreheads staying connected as he continues to hold your face and your hands on his, his words only make you quirk a wider smile. “You know, you’re making my heart beat very fast right now you know that? If I die because of you, you’d be put behind bars.” 

“Hmmmm, really now? And what makes you so sure I'd allow them to catch me so easily?” 

“Why do I like you?”

“In fact you don’t. You professed you love me not too long ago.”

“You’re right, unfortunately. I do, in fact, love you Jade Leech.”

Months of preparation, months filled with longing, months filled with shadowed moves, months filled with perseverance and patience, Jade Leech has finally accomplished what he’s worked for in one swell swoop from you. A kiss to the lips from the person who he always loved from the sidelines, now here in his hold as they reciprocate his mutual feelings. 

Can we stay in this moment forever?

Watching you with the way you close your eyes just to kiss him, can he just stay in this moment forever? Forever to see the way your lashes sprawl out, long enough for him to count each and every piece of hair. Forever to feel your lips against his, long enough to remember the sensation and feeling of your soft lips. Forever to engulf himself in your natural aroma, long enough to have a sense of peace when he smells your scent. With his eyes open, even in the kiss he can't help but to just close it. Not when someone so beautiful is right in front of him. The first to place a kiss and the first to draw back from it, you quickly turn back around and bury your face in your hands. 

Ah, they're getting all shy now. I wish it would have lasted longer…

“Ohmyfuckinggodijustkissedhimmmmm!” Whilst squealing in your hands Jade comes over and wraps his arms around your hunched figure, fully embracing you as he starts to feel gushy himself and nuzzles his cheek on the crown of your head. A big goofy silly smile on his face. 

“Oh what’s wrong my dear Pearl? You’re so red that it can rival Riddle's hair.”

“Hah, I wonder who’s causing such a symptom.” Removing your hands away from your face, you turn your head to meet Jade's beaming smile and red cheeks with your slight pouty and red face.

“I would gladly like to proclaim that I was the cause of such said symptoms.”

“Gosh why did I even-”

Turning his head closer to yours as he leans over your shoulder, his voice suddenly becomes low and serious. The way he can suddenly change the mood with his tone tickles your ear and sends chills down your spine in a good way. His arms around your figure hugging you securely like a vine wrapping itself against a gate. 

“I want to be the only one to make you feel this way, to have you look this way, to have you react this way. I would gladly like to be the reason for it knowing your affections for me are genuine. Just for you, I’d love to be that reason.” 

… 

“Fufufu, oh? To think your face couldn’t get any more red. Look at you, oh how wrong I was~”

“Jade you little-!” 

Turning around to engulf him in the same manner, you bury yourself in his chest. There you go, now you can confirm for real that his heart was indeed beating just as fast as yours. Standing still to hold each other in your arms, your red and burning face finding shelter in his bosom while he radiates a silly smile with red coated cheeks, you take the time to remember how things even came to be the way they are now. And as the two of you indulge each other, far off in Ramshackle dorm Grim is looking around to see if you’ve yet arrived. 

Moving his king up now in front of yours, thinking you’d make no move, he’s caught off guard as you pick up your king and take his. After all his chess pieces have eaten yours, nothing left but your king stood hopeful for him to take. Yet what a surprise of events that your heart took in the final move. It was a checkmate, and in the palm of your hand you gently held his king close to your heart. 

tag! - @thehollowwriter @pandaforcexd @officialdaydreamer00

I hope you guys enjoyed this read, sorry it took forever!

#twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #jade leech twst #jade leech x reader #jade leech fluff #twst jade #azul ashengrotto #leech twins #floyd leech #deuce spade #jack howl #ortho shroud #twst fluff #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland jade leech #jade leech x yuu #octavinelle

[myvampyrez]

'Ello luv, it's been a while since I saw someone writing for DMC ugh, miss when dmc(5) was trending... What a good time!

I don't know if your requests are open or not, but catch up with me!! Our pretty girls and boys with a vampire!reader! Or or— A WITCH! BOTH

Like, you choose if it's a bunch of headcanons, blurbs, a full one shot with a character or not, I just really want to see it!

Well, obviously if you can do it honey, if you can't it's fine <3

dmc crew dating a vampire 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

devil may cry x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

this was actually my first request on this blog!! i don’t know why i put it off for so long bc it’s literally so cool?? i ended up just doing a vampire instead of witch/vampire witch so i hope you guys enjoy considering my phone crashed trying to copy n paste this from my notes to tumblr 💋

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

blood (but in the vampire way ykyk), fangs and mentions of sharp teeth, intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in v’s,

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ you are literally so hot in DANTE’s eyes, you could honestly do no wrong.

❥ i think you guys already know what i’m gonna say..

❥ if you feed on blood or need it for some sort of sustenance, dante will gladly volunteer. he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.

❥ although, i’m not sure if vampires much like demon blood..

❥ eh, oh well. dante will still think it’s attractive, especially if you have fangs or some sort of sharper canines.

❥ only downside to being a vampire and dating dante is that you’ll occasionally hear a super bad transylvanian accent. like.. really bad.

❥ but!! if you’re also a demon hunter like him— and you have some cool freaky powers like draining blood or energy from empusas or really just any ability that’s useful, it’s heart eyes all around from him.

❥ you could be covered in blood or feasting on something and then you’ll spot dante in the corner wielding devil sword dante after defeating like seventy fuckin other demons and he’s just.. mesmerized.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ VERGIL’s much more curious about your species. do you have any weaknesses? are the fictionalized versions of your kind portrayed accurately? what are you exactly?

❥ luckily he’s a lot more quiet about his curiosity compared to, maybe— nico. his staring is intimidating, though. when he sits with you or near you, he’ll usually just study you. maybe it looks like he’s judging but he’s really just analyzing your appearance. especially if you have any distinctive features.

❥ if you have that dark ruddy aesthetic, he’ll likely admire from afar even if red isn’t exactly his favorite color.

❥ if you really needed it, he’d let you feed off of him although it’s definitely not his first choice. he’s not really a fan of being bitten, especially if you need to bite his neck or something like that.

❥ probably finds some esoteric artistic poem or painting with an underlying meaning of having to do with vampires and thinks of you every time he looks at it.

❥ his gothic poetic side is showing

❥ ugh i just wanna kiss his scowl so bad but i also wanna punch him.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ nero literally thinks it’s so cool.

❥ he might be a little wary once he first meets you? like are you gonna tackle him rn and sacrifice him with your own lil blood ritual?

❥ but once he finds out you’re docile or that you pick and choose on whom you feed on, he’s like, “oh okay that’s cool”

❥ probably like dante where the only version he knows of vampires are the hollywood adaptations of them. so like.. he’s confused if you can go into sunlight? or you can eat certain foods? or if you can go near churches??

❥ he, too, thinks you’re super hot. however!! very iffy about you drinking blood or feeding in front of him. not like it grosses him out but it’s kinda.. weird to watch for him?? idk.

❥ another thing is that he doesn’t want you biting him at all. he’s like vergil where he’ll be baffled if you even ask, except he’s super hesitant to offer himself unless you’re super injured and in dire need of it.

❥ just step on him to shut him up atp

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ V’s goth ass won’t shut up about how divine your species is and how fascinating he finds you.

❥ curious on your feeding habits and what you essentially need to survive, tries to find any and every book that he can about vampires so he can learn about you even more.

❥ he’s like those people who romanticize the 1800s or the salem witch trials or greece or ethel cain or lana del rey while kicking their feet and posting about it. he will find a way to make the situation poetic, trust me.

❥ finds it amusing if you’re annoyed by griffon’s teasing and threaten to eat him first if you were to ever go rogue, you might even be able to get a close mouthed chuckle out of v.

❥ utterly fascinated by just your very being, even if it’s just mundane traits. especially loves to see your fangs, dunno why but they’re just aesthetically pleasing to him.

❥ considering he’s kinda like a deteriorating human that’s basically turning into a husk, i wouldn’t recommend feeding on him unless you plan to kill him—which who would wanna murder our emo bae right here? (capcom)

❥ the type of person to roll his eyes at false folklore and representation because he’s literally in love with an actual vampire?? how dare they portray you like this??

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓛ADY — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ LADY also finds you super hot!!

❥ also interested because she’s probably never seen a vampire outside of media— so it’s a nice change of pace rather than being face to face with demons all day.

❥ despite all this, after the initial introduction, i’m not sure she’d care too hard? like— sure, you’re considered a supernatural being and all that.

❥ and although she thinks it’s super dope, i feel like it wouldn’t matter as much to her. she’s seen and done a lot of things at such a young age, i feel as though she’s almost desensitized?

❥ she’s so badass she can’t even care. she’s literally respected by dante, whom is titled ‘the legendary devil hunter’. (dmc5 did her dirty with her lack of part in the storyline 💔)

❥ she’ll respect any of your needs, and ngl also thinks you biting into her neck is hot.

❥ kinda surprised that you’re able to go out into sunlight even if she’ll never tell you that 😭

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓣RISH — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ another one who doesn’t care that much. it’s not like TRISH is dismissive of your species and where you come from, but she’s literally a full on demon who’s probably seen everything.

❥ you guys r so hot though, like the ultimate power couple.

❥ oh, and if you’re a devil hunter, too? you guys r gonna kick sm ass together. she’ll invite you to roll around with her for a while rather than with dante, although if you’re associated with devil may cry then that’s fine too. she’ll put up with dante’s ass just to visit you more often.

❥ i don’t recommend feeding off of trish?

❥ idk how vampires take to drinking demon blood

❥ but shit, if you have that red aesthetic and are just a total femme fatale (or other gender equivalent to that), trish is in charge of your outfits now.

❥ don’t even fight it, you will end up in the outfit regardless.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ICO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ oh boy

❥ if you’re lucky enough to survive the first meeting with NICO and you end up actually being in a relationship? you are def a trooper.

❥ when you’re first introduced, she bombards you with questions.

❥ where did you come from? do you have powers? are you like a demon and are there more of you? if so, can she harvest parts for a new bio-weapon? do vampires reproduce the same as humans? are you gonna suck her blood??

❥ she’s just a curious lady cut my girl some slack

❥ she thinks you’re so cool though!! wants you to tell her everything you know about vampires so she can log it. even if you’ve been in a long term relationship, she still can’t help but ask more questions.

❥ but!! as cool and hot as she thinks you are— like nero, she does not wanna see you feed and does not wanna be fed on!! (except.. maybe just one time to see how it feels.)

❥ ugh she just loves you sm please indulge her

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc5 #dmc4 #dmc3 #dmc dante x reader #dante sparda x reader #dmc vergil x reader #vergil sparda x reader #dmc nero x reader #nero sparda x reader #dmc v x reader #v dmc x reader #vitale x reader #dmc lady x reader #dmc trish x reader #dmc nico x reader #nicoletta goldstein x reader #ODOTTIE *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.* #kiss kiss

[pray4saint]

SAPNAP PLS nsfw headcannons.... him taking the bdsm tests, what's his sex drive? I just know he presses himself against you every time he passes you, but does he follow through ;)))

FOUND UR ACCC YESTERDAY and I'm acc in love like we both love dteam and marauders it's such a rare combination and I've never seen anyone love both before! ( like me LOL) do you take anons? 🥺

sapnap nsfw headcanons

masterlist & descrip. rated r. 16+. dirty talk. sapnap taking the bdsm test.

a/n. i would be happy to write more horndog texan for you / the only other person i know who writes mcyt & marauders is my younger cousin but they're fifteen so we don't interact online but lmk if you'd like their @ (& yes, i do take anons, the current anons i have are 💚 & 🦥)

as you said anon, sap absolutely presses against you when he passes by you, even when there's plenty of space to just go around, he does it to rile you up

does he follow through?? sometimes he does it for buildup for later that night, to make you all whiny and needy for him

but other times when you call him out for it, it's a 25/75 of if he won't follow through or he will (just to clarify, 25% of the time he won't, 75% he does)

when you call him out and he follows through though.. it's rough, it's kinky, it's dirty and it is hot and heavy

i mean more degradation when you call him out, more slapping if you're into that, hair pulling, messy, sloppy kisses

”god, such a slut for me aren't ya?” he pulls his lips from yours, a string of saliva thinning the farther he gets from your mouth, and it finally breaks when he licks his bottom lip. ”sap, please-” ”isn't this what you wanted babe?” he tangles a hand in your hair, ”to be fucked senseless under me like a whore?” he tugs at your hair, making you whine and beg him to just fuck you already.

sapnap's sex drive i'd say is above average, but not by a whole lot

i think if he can, he'll find a way to fuck you every day or every other day, but if you're not feeling it or you have your period or you just don't want to, it's not the end of the world for him

his sex drive is based solely on his attraction to you; when he was single he had a low sex drive but when you two started dating it jumped wayy up

OH OH OH my brain goes brrrrr for this shit: when you've been going at it for awhile, his southern accent becomes more pronounced with every word he says

”fuck- darl' you're doing so- s'good f'me.” his breath fans hot against your ear and down your neck and he fucks into you, drawing moan after moan out of you.

lots of praise this way, about how well you take him, how perfect you look under him or on top of him, about how much he loves you and how good you treat him

i think despite his above average sex drive, he still likes taking his time, teasing you, building up foreplay, because it all adds to the experience for you and that's all he really wants, for you to be happy

sapnap believes in being begged, for anything really, to be touched, to be fucked a certain way, to cum, yk he just gets it

also some sub!sapnap for you // sub!sap who begs to be touched when he's horny and if you say no he just can't help it, he'll touch himself even if he isn't allowed to

sub!sapnap, rutting into you while he begs to be praised >>>>

”m'i doing good? please tell me i'm doing good..” while his pelvis presses against yours over and over again. ”yes- sap fuck, you're doing so good, such a good boy for me.” his hips begin to stutter at your words.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

#pray4saint #dteam #dream team #dsmp #mcyt #sapnap #sapnap smut #sapnap x reader smut #dteam smut #dream team smut #mcyt smut #gn!reader #mcyt x reader smut #sapnap headcanons #saint's inbox !! #saint's nsf !! #ns.sap #dsmp smut #dsmp x reader smut

[doubledown]

Yall already know the drill no MLM fetish people as for minors go while I'd prefer you not to interact I cant control what you do

So this is abit of a specific fic for a certain someone ( you know who you are pooks 💕 )

The reader is Latino with a brown complextion feel free to imagine them in whatever shade you want

The reader will be male and masc terms will be used for them

Some Spanish will be in this used in this fic but a translation with be provided so dont worry about havin to go to google translate

This will most likely be around 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation

ALSO I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE so uh if its not like canon him I'm sorry 🧍‍♀️

Degration, Hook up, Hand job, Public Sex, Cheating, S_lf h_rm ( not described implied tho ), HEAVY Voice Kink

HEAVY on criticism. Trying out a new writing style since I noticed that the one I currently due really doesn't stimulate my brain enough which leads to writer's block. SO YEAH LMFAO HAVE FUN ( P.S THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITEEE AND IT IS KINDA LONG SO SEAT BACKK AND ENJOYYYYYYY )🧍‍♀️

-------------------------------------------------------

Your mama says I'm a fool

And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't

stop thinkin' 'bout you

I'm tryin'

I'm tryin' not to forget my words

'Cause when I'm around you, I tend to keep

changin' my mind

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miguel murmered as the smell of heavy whiskey and cheap liquor crowded around him. He wasn't a drinker at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Well.....not until today. Everything was just going to shit. So he figured he drown himself in something other then self destruction and exhaustion. At least this would kill his worries for awhile after all what's the point of multiverse travel if you couldn't do somewhere where you were unknown? A place you could simply escape without anybody finding you or judging you for your actions. Nobody to put a strong and dominate front for. Just simply unknown and out of touch. " What's on your mind to drink tonight? " The bartender asked abit of a friendly smile on his face. Miguel honestly didn't know what to choose so he just said the first brand of liquor that came to mind. " Just a few shots of fireball.." He said resting his arms on the bar. " Alright hot shot your drinks will be ready in abit. " The bartender said quickly soon off to go take other orders while simultaneously making drinks. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed in all honesty but he had seen it done by failedly by parker. He always tended to try things that really didn't suit him. The bartender looked up and Miguel heart almost sunk in his chest when he spoke. " Buyin a drink or did ya miss me y/n? " The bartender asked leaning over the bar giving a peck on the lips to you.

He couldn't look. He wouldn't look. Yet the gentle rumble in your voice was something that always had a hold on him. " Why not both? " You teased catching onto your lover's lip in your teeth before letting go with a smirk. " You know what I like cariño. " [ darling/dear ] Cariño. Cariño Cariño Cariño Cariño...Even after years away from each other the word still made him his heart burn. Just the way your accent just drove him mad was something that he couldn't even begin to explain. Yet he knew it wasn't his place to feel that way nor right. You two were seperated now. But he wished that things had gone very differently.

" Miguel......Surprised to see you here. " You said your tone neutral but he could feel the hiss of anger in your eyes. You two broke up on a rather...messy note. Things were just too much and miguel wasn't excatly helping with being fuckin spider man and shit. You didn't- No. You couldn't do it. You weren't gonna live in fear that somebody may one day hurt you because they may have followed him home or some shit. So you suggested he retire from doing the whole superhero thing. And he didn't at all take it well. The two of you argued about it for days which turned into weeks. Things were said and one thing led to the other and soon you two weren't even remotely related anymore. He choose people he didn't even know over you. And it stung like hell. But you moved on and forward. And to see him in such a low state....it....it messed with you abit. It brought back some things that you really wished you had buried lower..

" Y/N. It's nice to see you again. " He said with a small smile. You had always been rather...eye pleasing to put it appropriately. Everything just fit so perfectly on you. Every feature on your face to every hair on you head was completely and utterly put together so...Intoxicatingly. And your voice....fuck your voice.... " Ah Im guessin you guys have past? " The voice of your lover pulled him away before his thoughts had a chance to tip off. " Yeah. He's an old friend. " You said simply without bothering to look at the other man. You already you tired from work and really didnt want want to deal with your partner gettin all pissy that your ex is here. " Just a shot of jack daniels Mí Corazón. " you purred. [ My heart ] You knew what your voice did to Miguel. You know what you could gain from him just with a few soft I love yous or just simply saying his name the way he liked. He was a slut for words. Literally. And you had no sympthay for him left in you to care. After all it seemed more like a personal problem then anything. Sucks to suck.

You sat down next to Miguel resting you arms on the bar slightly leaning just enough for that slight arch in your back to show. It was wrong you knew that. Quietly seducing your ex while your partner was right in front of you. But after all you had to return the favor. Finding those texts from all those different guys. You wondered how many times he had fucked some guy while on shift. More importantly how many of them were here now. Miguel was weak when it came to you. He always had been. And the way he shifted in his seat when ever you spoke or the way he seemed so dazzedly focused on your features only proved that he still was a little whore for you. But you weren't gonna simply just give him what he wanted. No. That be too merciful. He needed to beg. Like bitch in heat. He needed to beg like fucking him was a need. Like he couldn't survive without you stuffing him full of what he knew craved.

Miguel cleared his throat and diverted his eyes to his drink as the bartender brough back his drink. " I didn't know you were into liquor. " You said with abit of a curious tone. When did he start drinking?? He always had hated the smell of alcohol at least you thought he did. He used to get onto you about drinking all the time goin on and on about how it could mess up your liver and such. Yet here he was puttin his feelings into a cup. Crazy how things change. " And I thought you didn't fall under stress. " He muttered taking drinking it down in a quick motion. He gagged slightly before swallowing a rather displeasing look on his face. " What? The bite too much for you amor? " [ Love ] You snarked a teasing smile on your face. " No. It's just stronger then what I'm used to. " He mumbled clearly embarrassed by his own reaction. The wound between you too was still fairly fresh. Even more unattended then you both thought. The dismissed jab from Miguel only just proved it.

You swished your drink around not even really wantin it in all honesty. It just felt all surreal and awkward having him around. It just didn't feel natural anymore. And you hated it so fuckin much. Your thoughts were brought out by your rather oblivious boyfriend giving you a kiss on the forehead. " Hey sorry to interrupt you in your space but I gotta head out for a bit. A friend from work needs help movin some furniture. " He said with a smile. " Don't worry about the bar ken is already gettin ready for his shift. " He continued giving you a finally peck before leaving. So that's how he did it. He made a lame ass excuse and left before he could be asked questions. Huh. It was the only thought that came into your mind. At this point feelin guilty was out of the picture entirely. After all if he could go have fun why couldn't you.

You leaned up slightly your left hand grazing the other's thigh as he stiffened. He looked at you confusedly and you simply looked at him for permission. You had always been abit of a fan for open things. It obviously took him a minute to realize what you wanted to do and the clear surprise look on his face almost made you laugh. Yet odd enough he moved his seat abit closer to you despite it. " Hm. Seems like somebody missed old times. " You hummed to yourself teasing his cock through his jeans. He shifted in his seat as he rested his hand on his forehead trying his hardest not to thrust up for attention. You slowly but carefully unzipped his jeans and the entire time the poor man was figiting in his seat. " Desperate much? " You murmed loosely as you teased the head of his swollen cock.

He huffed sharply as he shifted his weight toward your as you wrapped your pretty hands around his cock and pumped it at a rather fast pace. A small whimper came from his throat as you stroked him precum dripping as your pace became relentless. He put his head down on the bar ledge his one hand covering his mouth trying so hard to quiet his soft rambles of pleasure. He twitched and pulsed as what seemed like hours to him as his responses simply got harder and harder to hide. At this point he was pratically mind numb with pleasure and being a whiny mess of a man. Yet you weren't done with your pretty boy just yet. Things were simply getting started.

#dom male reader #sub character #sub miguel o'hara #top male reader #male y/n #dom reader #submissivecharacter #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #lowkeywannabendhimover #LOLENJOYY #YesIdidleaveyallonacliffhangersorrynotsorry🤞🙄/j/lh

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

but he doesn't know who i am

Summary: Vision learns about Wanda's 2am gym visits and the nightly meetup you'd been anticipating with the witch becomes... something else.

I really can't write summaries: basically Vision's introduction to the series and him meeting R 😭

Word Count: 1357 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: back at it again with the self-doubt Part 4 of 'Half of My Hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

“Miss Maximoff, are you quite alright? You are usually not this tired from training.”

Wanda sighs, forcing a smile as she turns towards the approaching synthezoid. 

“I'm fine, Vision, thank you. I just had a late night.”

“Were you having nightmares again? They can be common for quite some time after going through traumatic events, such as what you experienced with your family and city.”

“I wasn’t,” Wanda snaps, in a tone which comes out harsher than she had intended. She presses the base of her palm to her eyes in a show of exaggerated tiredness in order to hide the growing anger in her gaze – she knows Vision is trying to help, but something about his phrasing, combined with her limited sleep, draws out her ire. Wanda is overcome by a sudden desire to be talking with you instead, you would understand. While Vision clearly pities her for her life’s tragedies, you know what it’s like – you’ve experienced it. Vision wants her to forget her nightmares, whereas you replenish her mind with the happier moments, even patching her near-forgotten memories with your own recollection of events. Vision is telling her to make a life in the present, but you help her rebuild the foundations of her past.

Wanda tries to bury the comparison; the android is trying his best to understand, and she has only had one full conversation with you since you reunited, so could she really say that all conversations would be like that? She hopes they are, since memories of the five hours of carefree talking still linger fresh in her mind, tugging the corners of her lips upwards whenever she dwells on it.

“I didn't have nightmares,” Wanda continues at last. “Not last night. I went to the gym and lost track of time” – not quite a lie – “it's nicest at 2am, I think, always quiet.”

“Ah, I see,” Vision says, seemingly oblivious to the Sokovian’s inner turmoil, “shall we focus on powers together this session then, if you’ve already exercised in the night? Overworking on the machines can lead to-”

“Yeah, Vision, that sounds good,” Wanda interrupts, not wanting another explanation, “let's work on powers.”

»»————-　★　————-««

You’re lucky that the Compound is sparse in the early hours, because you’re certain you look like an idiot having to fight a grin every time you let your memory wander back to the night before – five hours spent talking with Wanda, yet it had been so comfortable that it hadn’t felt like any time at all. And to top it all off, she had been the one to ask you to do it all over again, with her enthusiasm so explicitly shown that it had left no room for doubt in your mind; she had enjoyed the night just as much as you.

So you smile all through your patrol route that night, watching the clock tick closer and closer to the promised 2am until, eventually, you round the corner and she comes into view.

“Wanda!” you greet cheerily. She’s leaning against a pillar and looking down at her phone but her head shoots up and, upon seeing you, a beaming smile spreads across her face.

“Hi,” she says, and there's once again an awkward moment where neither of you know the right move or what to say. Do you hug her? Kiss her cheek? You'd like to, but, once again, you're interrupted before you can take action.

“Ah, Wanda, you're still here!” a voice calls out. Wanda’s gaze drifts behind you and you abruptly swivel in place to see who is interrupting your time together. Whatever you expected, it isn't this.

Despite the English accent in his voice, the man was decidedly… not English, or human for that matter. The red, humanoid figure floats his way towards you, with the yellow jewel embedded in his head glowing softly.

“Vision, what are you doing up?” Wanda asks, clearly familiar with the man as she takes a step forward, while you take a step back to the sidelines.

“My sleep cycle is only designed to replicate that of a human’s, it's not actually necessary for me.”

You consider asking if he needs to recharge, and how long his batteries last, but you think better of it, not wanting to insult anyone close to Wanda.

“You said this morning that you go to the gym at this time, so I thought I might join you. Then you won't lose track of time and be tired during training, like today,” Vision continues. The same pang of guilt as last night hits you again, since it was your fault that Wanda stayed up so late – Wanda's request to meet again had pushed the responsibility to the back of your mind, but if she's complained about the tiredness to her teammates, then perhaps she had wanted to sleep earlier, but only stayed around and asked to meet at 2am out of politeness, to fit your schedule, rather than her own.

“That's kind of you, Vision, but, uh-” she glances briefly at you, and it's like Vision only just realises you're there too.

“I'm Y/N,” you interrupt, holding a hand out for the newcomer to shake. He looks over at you somewhat indignantly, as if shocked that you would interrupt Wanda's answer, but you know her well enough to know she had been stalling for her next words. Wanda’s relieved reaction to your words is only further confirmation of that.

“Vision,” he introduces, “do you two know each other?”

You glance over to Wanda now, unsure what she wants to reveal to the robot. She takes the hint and seamlessly continues the conversation on your behalf,

“Y/N and I grew up together, back in Sokovia.”

“Oh, and you both ended up here. What a coincidence.”

“Yeah.” You laugh awkwardly. Although there's still the comfort of Wanda standing by your side, the conversation feels stilted and forced with Vision in the room. “I should probably get back to my patrol,” you say after a few more minutes of discussion – which felt more like an interview of Vision against you and Wanda.

Wanda nods her head and shuffles closer to you, but Vision speaks up before she can.

“Yes, Wanda and I should probably get started at the gym too; then you won't have to be up too late!” he says, the last part directed to Wanda only.

Her eyes flick between you and Vision again, the choice of who to go with and who to disappoint suddenly presented before her. Her head is low and she’s fiddling with her rings again, so you make the choice for her before she next speaks.

“Vision is right; I'm sure you both have to be up early for training tomorrow so don't let me keep you.”

Wanda’s head shoots up at you with a wide-eyed glare and you duck your head to avoid meeting her eyes; if she could see into them, then maybe she would see that you didn't want her to leave, that you wanted her to come around with you and talk like the night before. 

But to say that would be selfish.

Wanda and you aren’t 12 anymore, you both have responsibilities beyond each other and you can’t allow yourself to get in the way of that for her. Wanda is an Avenger now, and you have to remind yourself that the eyes of the world rest on her, constantly judging and scrutinising her performance in the field. She needs public opinion of her to stay positive – that comes from good performance, and good performance comes from properly training with her teammates. You’d kept her from the gym the night before, and caused the tiredness which had impacted her training enough that had taken note; you couldn’t let that happen again. So you pretend to want her company less than Vision, make the choice so she doesn't have to, and walk away with nothing more than a forced smile and a wave, even when you catch the disappointed look on Wanda's face as she watches you leave.

It's for her own good.

You'll always do what's best for Wanda.

next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @holiday-house-of-m @emiliaisdead @wonderingnerd @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @chasethemoon

A/N: I might give up on the gifs at the start, I'm gonna run out at this rate 😭 Anywayyyy, shortish chapter and sorry for the delay! Been a busy week of avoiding my uni work. As always, reblogs and comments are amazing and keep me going, and I hope to have the next part out soon :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #ikan homh

[sarucane]

Stede Bonnet's Stories (S1)

My favorite theme (right now) in OFMD is storytelling, and how the characters' stories shape the narrative and one another. In OFMD, stories are how people connect to one another. How they figure out their place in the world around them, how they form communities, how they grow and change. Because stories are also how the characters come to understand themselves.

In the first season, Stede is the loudest and most determined storyteller of them all. He's literally paying someone to follow him around and write his story; he's built the entire ship and outfitted it to create a certain story; he's wearing mad, impractical clothes in a harsh climate to express his personality.

On the one hand, this is a dumb thing to do. The crew can't read the library he's provided for them; his clothes (and incompetence) make his first "raid" a disaster; the pirates are plotting mutiny very quickly indeed. And his attempts to "toughen up" wind up nearly burying the crew in a larger, imperial story of race and class.

On the other hand, it's an immensely brave thing to do. Stede doesn't really try to be "like Blackbeard." He doesn't disguise his accent, wear ugly clothes, or make an example of someone on the crew to show his "iron fist." He is trying to do something genuinely different. To be a gentleman and a pirate. To tell a story that hasn't been told before. And to create space for others to tell a story: when Wee John voices criticism, Stede hands over his own fabrics to the crew and encourages them to "express yourselves." Between the bedtime stories and Stede's lie about Nigel (which is revealed very quickly afterwards), the crew decide they'll try telling his "new" story with him.

At first, the weakness in Stede's story seems to be that he's telling it in the wrong place. That his fiction is too far from reality, which is going to crush his story (as so many stories have been crushed throughout history).

And that is a problem, and his misjudgments wind up with him being betrayed by pirates and almost executed by Spanish naval officers. But it's a solvable problem, with help.

From the moment they meet, Ed and Stede are at their best when they tell stories together. When they work together, they figure stuff out about themselves, they connect with one another and with the crew, and they find a way to write the third story in a world that tells them they have only two options (gentleman or pirate). They make ship into a lighthouse; they bring a kraken to life and finally beginning to understand it; Stede uses his ship's mast and Ed's trick to outwit Izzy; a treasure map yields actual 'treasure'; the ship is invaded by the English, but everyone emerges safe and alive.

But it doesn't last. Because the real weakness of Stede's storytelling isn't the context. It's that Stede doesn't believe it himself.

Stede is doing all this to try to be both a boy worthy of respect from his father, and a boy who picks flowers. He's still defining himself by the terms of the world he came from. By running away, not running towards something.

So, when Chauncey confronts him with his own "monstrousness," Stede believes him. It's all his insecurities come to life. And he believes Chauncey when he says Stede's "brought history's greatest pirate to ruin."

If all Stede will ever be is a "little rich boy," then he needs to stop trying to be something else. Because telling that story means hurting others.

Stede's wrong. Telling a story, even when you don't fully believe it, changes you and the people who listened to your story. And when Stede gives up on his storytelling, the causes and effects circle round: Stede told stories. As a result, other people told stories. And even if Stede stops telling stories, or tries to tell different stories, other people won't.

Stede lied when he confessed to Nigel's murder. Said he deserved to die for leaving his wife and family. But he doesn't die there, because Ed tells his own story about grace, and the crew takes Stede's mad stories as their own.

And because of what Stede did, Mary Bonnet was able to tell her own story, fully and on her own terms. And to believe in it completely. Ed and the crew were able to tell their stories, too--which comes near to an actual transformation.

In the end, it doesn't matter that Stede didn't believe his story. He changed anyway. He created space for other people to change, to tell stories that unraveled his own lies, that saved him from himself. And he awkwardly, finally, figured out what story he wanted to tell. His own truest story.

And to escape the truth he's accidentally been trapped in, Stede tells a story that inverts what he did before. At the beginning of the season, Stede was telling a story that no one believed. That only he even really tried to believe. But in the finale, he stages an elaborate fuckery to tell a story that everyone believes--except him, and the people who matter. Truth materializes from the fiction.

Stede's stories set so many people free. And in the end, when he's brave enough to lie his way to the truth, Stede's stories set him free, too.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #legit i could go on about this for agggges #just about every ep has a storytelling moment or 4 #there's all these nuanced ways the stories affect the plot and each other its so complicated and i love it

[box-milk]

Why did you go

Genre~ Angst

Pairings ~ none

Warnings~ death, mentions of blood , avengers are dicks, bad writing and grammatical errors.

Part 2 of 'before I go'

Yelena jumps with a start at the beeping of her watch on her bedside dresser. Frantically, yelena fought against the blankets as she recognized the familiar beeping that she's only heard once.

Not bothered by the fact she was still just clad in shorts and a sports bra, she grabbed the watch before frantically running out of her room, not noticing she almost ran into a certain archer.

A confused Kate calls fell on deaf ears, so she quickly followed behind the distressed woman. The sight causes her to let out a silent gasp. Through her own tears, kate can see and hear Yelena's disparate pleas for you to open your eyes. They never did.

Kate scrambles to her knees scantily crawling to your bloodied figure, hands grazing the discarded heart, causing the young bishop to almost throw up.

"No, no, NO!, this can't be real." The young blond says as she fruitlessly tries to wake your cold figure. "Do something, kate bishop!." Yelena begs the still girl near her.

Kate just sat, eyes wide and slowly shaking her head cause she knew there was nothing she could do. By now, Yelena's screaming would have woken the remaining avengers that hurried to your door to see what the commotion was about.

Nothing in their training would have prepared them for the sight of a bloodied, usually kept together yelena and a stoic kate now standing unmoving at your desk, then your unmoving body. Natasha made the first brave step completely into the room and looked at your body over her sister's shoulder.

Despite all of the other Avengers' views of you, she never really formulated one of her own for you she kept distance but watchful eyes since yelena and Kate are quite fond of you and she needed to protect her sister. Just in case.

Never in her life would the red head widow wish a fate like this on you. "Yelena... what happened?" The older of the sisters asked brows furrowed, unable to move her eyes from your corpse.

"You guys happened." Kate's emotionless voice bounced off the silent room.

"What?" The star sprang hero asked at the door. "All of you fucking happen". Kate huffs staring deeply into the super soldier's eyes. Steve would never admit it, but despite his robustness, the girls stare sent shivers down his spine.

"You can't possibly be blaming us for this, kate," Wanda's accented voice laced with sleep questions. " That's rich coming from you witchy".

"Excuse me," the witch folds, her arms in defense gaze set on the angry archer in front of them. Kate raises a sheet of paper before tossing it to the feet of the Avengers, and Clint picks it up and only assumes the writing on it is yours and begins to read.

" Even if all you did was be kind to yourself and then a friend today, you refilled a purpose in life, and that little is better than enough ♥️ "

I learned that at the carnival today, and it seems maybe I can't pay my kindness in outings or meals since you all don't trust me, so I hope this will suffice.

My only goal in life was to have my heart somewhere safe and where better than the earth's mightiest heroes.

~y/n

Everything is silent. Even Yelena's sobs have stopped, and the air is eerily chill. "This is...your fault?". Natasha shivers not hearing a trace of evidence Yelena's been crying.

"Yelena-"

"Shut up". The blond girl stands and takes your body in her arms before turning to walk out.

"Yelena".

"No" is all yelena says before she leaves the room with your body in her arms.

"Y/n can't honestly expect us to believe that we led her to these extremes. she was hyra. " The red-headed witch complained

"Wanda, that's enough." Natasha sighs, running her hand through her hair.

"Guess what? So were you, and the only difference is you did it by choice." Kate berates the witch. "You don't know anything about me kate". The younger redhead says with a red hue around her eyes.

"I know you're about to show me exactly what someone from HYDRA does." Kate grits completely blinded by the anger that envelopes her.

Wanda stops immediately in her tracks, and her eyes return to the normal hue as she holds her breath. "You..don't honestly believe I would..hurt you, right? I wouldn't hurt anyone"

"Telll that to the people in legos"

"You don't know anything about that, kate." Wanda says through gritted teeth.

Kate walks until she's completely in front of the distraught witch and brings her mouth directly in line with Wanda's ear. "I don't know, but what I do know is if I could, I'd snap that collar back around your neck and kill you myself if I could you hypocrite"

"That's enough kate". Clint, who heard everything, tugged the girl roughly away from the crying red head. "Get the fuck off me barton"

"I'm not your enemy kate"

"Shut up Clint don't act like you're on some moral ground. You had a second chance for an assassin with a ledger dripping in blood of innocents but couldn't find one for a kid that's shown nothing but love? Really? Fuck you." Kate angrily rips hand out of the older archers hand.

"Kate, that's not fair." Clint says as he watched his red-headed best friend's face fall, then immediately hardened.

"Neither was the way y/n was treated, but it's too late for that isn't?". The young archer her glared at everyone in the room before angry storming out.

•°•°°•°•°°°•°°•°•°•°•°

"Why did you do this? Why did you go?" Yelena cries as she stares at your cold body, laying on the bed in the med bays morgue. The young woman knew there would be no reply but was still deeply hurt by the silence.

"Cyka! I'm your friend, you're supposed to tell me when you're hurting. Gut-wrenching sobs leaves her lips as she hits your chest half heartily, hoping it would bring you back.

"I'll never forgive you"

"Yelena, Bruce needs to prep her for burial." Natasha says hesitantly when she entered the room. She knew better than to try offering comfort to her sister when she's like this.

Yelena lets out a dry chuckle despite the tears. "Here you go again, letting people take things from me."

"Yelena-"

No,Natalia, this has got to be right up there with the worst things you let happen to me.

Yelena stands and walks until she's in Natasha's face. "And guess what romanoff, all my forgiveness for you has run dry."

Natasha watched as her sister's eyes held no emotion, and she immediately knew no amount of fixing with make amends.

"Fuck you". Was the last thing yelena said before brushing her shoulders roughly with Natasha's before leaving the room and her life completely.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kate bishop #wanda x reader #kate x reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #yelena x reader #yelena belova imagine #kate x y/n #kate bishop x y/n

[orange-artist]

OP languages for the wip game I’m intrigued 👀👀👀

Oh boy! Good choice! My unfinished fic where all the OP has different languages and I actually wrote all the different languages in the different languages (based on the languages my friends speak)

Have some excerpts:

Shank sailed in with fluent but accented Linish and another fast lilting fluid language flowing off his tongue and Luffy all but demanded to learn it. Shanks was happy to oblige and found that Luffy picked up languages fast. Xilanese, Shanks explained, was the most common language in the West Blue. The language was the closest to the infamous poneglyphs of legends in syntax and writing systems. Luffy takes to Xilanese like a duck to water. It's helpful that most of the Red Haired pirate crew knew the language to a certain degree so Luffy didn't have a shortage of practice partners. Maomao they call him. Little anchor, Luffy learns eventually and throws a halfhearted pouty fit about it.

Roronoa Zoro didn't learn Linish until he ended up at Koshiro’s dojo. He never had a use for it. Tonichi-go served him well up until that point but Kuina has explained that if he ever wanted to be the World’s Greatest Swordsman he would need to learn the common tongue. Apparently Tonichi-go was called Azumani in Linish, which Zoro thought was stupid and weird. Why call it something different?

"Say it!" He shouts. "给我说你想活下去！Say you want to live!" He demands of her. 活? Live? Robin can't describe the feeling that wells up in that moment. The clenching pain in her chest as a sob builds up, but not of the typical sorrow and agony filled type. Intead, inexplicable joy and a sense of freedom bubbled out with her tears. Years of being alone and being unwanted manifest in that moment of helplessness as she watches her crew, her friends declare war against Enies Lobby. For her.

Then I was going to drag my friends together and make a podfic of it....I still want to do that so

#my writing #wip ask game #orange asks

[starsinmylatte]

Hi, can I ask for F, G, and R from the smut headcanons (for the hot blue man) and maybe also Y if you want/have enough time? Love your writing, keep up the fine work (of giving us Thrawn girls things to feast on)

Thank you, Anon, my beloved!! I have a solemn duty to feed my fellow Thrawn Girlies (gn) 💜🥰

Original smut headcanon post here

Other letters I've answered: Q, S, Z || E, M, and W

Warnings: There really aren't any for this one besides NSFW. It's sweet and intimate here, besties.

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

Any first with Thrawn is going to be so deeply passionate. He isn't one for random flings, and I don't think he's much for escort services (although he'd respect the profession). For him to truly find release in the arms of someone else, he'd have to trust them, and that in itself is an incredibly tricky thing given his position. Needless to say, anyone Thrawn is having sex with is important to him and has been for a time. Because of that, he is absolutely determined to show them how much he cares.

Every touch, kiss, and caress is filled with hunger and Thrawn's pure desire for intimacy with you. The sex isn't necessarily gentle, it's more reverent. He doesn't treat you like you'll break because he knows you won't.

I feel in my soul that there are probably multiple rounds, but the very first one is Thrawn trying to manifest his feelings for you into a physical form of intimacy. It's slow and intimate lovemaking, but the implication behind it is obvious... your souls are entwining as much as your bodies are.

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

Thrawn is the type to break the pace at which he's fucking you to take a devastatingly slow roll of his hips, press a kiss to your temple, and murmur something to you in Cheunh.

When you learn more of his native tongue, you realize that he's telling you how beautiful you are. Thrawn calls you his beloved, precious, and more, whispering all that you mean to him and just how amazing you are against your skin.

He's also the type to hold your hand while he fucks you, lacing his fingers through yours while you cry out in pleasure.

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

His eyes glow brightly when the two of you are alone and he wants physical intimacy. Thrawn is able to hide it (to an extent) when others are around or if the timing isn't appropriate.

That being said, it's also very similar to how they glow when he's excited or intrigued by something. Only like three people probably know him well enough to tell the difference, so he is able to find an easy excuse.

Thrawn also gets handsy when he's in the mood, his voice gets a little deeper, and his accent comes back. Even if he can't get as handsy as he'd like, he still manages clandestine touches of your hand or shoulder. They are touches that seem mundane to everyone, but you know exactly what they mean.

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Alright, there's a certain level of "light sleeper" you have to be when you can be called on at any moment for an emergency (ask me how I know this lmao), and Thrawn is basically on 24/7 call as a Grand Admiral.

That being said, his sleep patterns are interesting. He sleeps better next to his beloved, especially after sex.

Thrawn, the infamous tactician and Grand Admiral of the Seventh Fleet is a clingy cuddler. He needs to feel his beloved is safe in his arms and his preferred sleeping position is any that allows him to fully wrap himself around his partner.

When Thrawn is alone, he tends to wander into his office at 0200 when he has an important thought, or because he needs a fresh perspective on a piece of art he's studying, but when his beloved is sleeping next to him, he's a little more conscious of what is imminently important and what can wait until morning. Thrawn's desire to not disturb his lover actually backfires into him taking better care of himself, too.

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #blue man hot #lyria rambles #star wars #chiss #thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x y/n #star wars fanfiction #star wars fan fiction #star wars imagine #fanfic game

[zcorners120]

first of, you writing is amazing. your posts are written on a really engaging way, i just never want them to end. don’t know if you’re into writing for marcus armstrong or oscar but maybe something with one of them? being one of the f1 driver’s sister and seeing one of them on the f2 paddock? or friends with other f2 driver?

thank you so much, that means alot to me and im very flattered <3 i personally havent written for either but i will write this one for oscar, im not completely sure about his personality and mannerisms but ill give it my best go!

oscar piastri x leclerc!reader MASTERLIST

synopsis; visiting charles for his race you accidentally stumble across the f2 paddock and meet the eyes of someone very interesting..

warnings; none

The hustle and bustle of the different mechanics, reporters and drivers in the paddock made you miss seeing Charles race. You clung onto your lanyard holding the paddock pass, trying to find your way to the F1 garage area.

As you walk around, clueless, you stumbled into a quieter area, still busy but not comparable to the chaos in the previous area. You saw that there were similar racing cars around, but not the same teams as F1.

"Prema, Trident, Hitech?" You whisper to yourself, confused.

As you let your eyes gaze around, trying to find someone familiar, you didn't realise a pair of big brown doe eyes, analysing you in adoration. As you stood there with your hair perfectly styled, nervously playing with your lanyard you saw a fan calling you over.

"Y/N, over here!" She called out, frantically waving and smiling as you approached her.

"Hiya, what's up?" You smiled, posing to take a quick picture.

"You look absolutely amazing, can I have an OOTD for tiktok?" She grinned, filming you and a certain person with his brown eyes staring at you from behind.

"My blazer is from ASOS, just a simple black one. My jeans are studded with rhinestones from ZARA, and my shoes are Prada." You explained calmly, pointing to each individual piece. {yes i know, slightly copied Isa's look from the Dutch GP ;)}

"Thank you so much, have a great time cheering Charles!" She hurried away, her eyes beaming.

"Wait, how do I get to the F-" You tried to ask, but she was out of earshot already.

"Bit lost there Leclerc?" An Australian voice speaks out from behind you, as you turn around to be met with the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen.

"Holy sh-. Uhm, sorry yeah I am." You nearly swore at the sight of him, but quickly regaining your consciousness.

"Oscar Piastri, can I ask how you've ended up in F2 and not F1, with your brother?" He introduces himself, his delicious accent making a grand appearance.

"He split off to talk to someone and I may have wondered off." You smiled at him, as he began walking and nodded his head for you to follow.

"As much as I'm sure you'd love to see me race, I can imagine your wanting to find Charles right?" He jokingly shows off his ego, as he wades through the bigger crowds to the Ferrari garage.

"Yep. I wouldn't mind seeing your skills though, I'm sure they're very impressive." You wink at him, breaking out into laughter afterwards.

"How about I show you my gentlemen skills by asking you out on a date for Saturday?" He turns to you, as you lean against a wall next to the Ferrari garage.

"Of course, I'm looking forward to it." You replied, as he came closer to you.

"Ay Piastri! What're you doing with my baby sister?" You hear Charles' yell out, coming towards the pair of you.

"I'd start running now." You laugh, watching as he jogs away through the crowds, smirking at Charles.

"I saw you laughing, you can't laugh with other boys." Charles deadpans to you, his protective side coming through.

Growing up with three older brothers meant that they were all very overprotective with you and boys, and made it abundantly clear which lead to situations like this one.

"I'm going on a date!" You sing-sang to him, watching as he tutted and shook his head.

"I'm going to need Arthur's help on this one." He whispered to himself, walking after you.

#oscar piastri #formula 1 #fanfic #charles leclerc #f1 fandom #prema #prema racing team #ferrari prema #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f3 one shot #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #marcus armstrong